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THE DAWSON WEEKLY JOURNAL. 13Y CHRISTIAN, HOYL & CO. §\vsm dalnliln fourual, Published Every Thursday TERMS— Strictly in Advance. Three month* () 0 75 Six months $* 25 Ono year $ 2 nates of •Advertising : One dollar per square of ten lines for the first insertion, and Seventy-five Gents per square (or each subsequeut insertion, not ex ceeding three. 4 Oue square three months ♦ 8 00 One square six months 12 00 One square one year 20 00 Two squares three months 12 00 r.*o squares six months 18 00 T#o squares one year 30 00 Fourth of a column three moths 80 00 Fourth of a column six months 50 00 Half column three moths 45 00 Half column six months 70 00 Ono column three months 70 00 Ona column six months 100 00 Liberal Deductions Made on Contract . Advertisements . ■WMMMiimiMHWiWinmntniimimtimr*— Legal Advertising. Sheriff’s Sales, per levy, $2 80 Mortgage Fi Fa Sales per square 6 (X) Citations for Letters of Administration, 3 00 •i « *« Guardiauship, 3 00 Dismisiou from Apministration, 6 00 •• “ Guardianship, 4 00 Application for leave to sell land, 6 00 Sales of Land, per square, 5 00 Sales of Perishable Property per squ’r, 3 00 Notices to Debtors and Creditors,.... 3 50 Foreclosure of Mortgage, per square, 2 00 Estray Notices, thirty days, 4 00 Job If *ork of every description eve cuteduitb neatness and dispatch, at moderate rates. RAIL -ROA_D GUIDE. Southwestern Railroad. WM. HOLT, Pres. | VIRGIL POWERS, Sup Leave Macon 5.15 A. M. ; arrive at Colsm hns 11.15 A. M. ; Leave C’olu-'bus 12 46 P. M ; arrive at Macoo 6.20 P. M. Leaves Macon 8 AM\ arrives at Eu (aula 5 30, P M ; Leaves Eufaula 7 20, A M ; Arrives at Macon 4 50, PM. # ALBANY BRANCH. Leaves Smithville 1 46, P M ; Arrives at Albany 3 11, P M ; Leaves Albany 9 36, A M; Arrives at Smithville 11, A M. Leave Cuthbert 357 P. M.; arrive at Fort Glins 5 40 P. M ; Leave Fort Gains 7.05 A M. ; arrive at Oulbbert 9.05 A. M. JHacoii A Western Railroad. A J. WHITE, President. il. WALKER, Superintendent. BAY PASSENGER TRAIN. Leaves Macon . • • 780A. M. Arrives at Atlanta . . . 1 57 P. M. Leaves Atlanta . . . 6 55 A. M. Arrives at Macon . • ■ 1 SO P. M. NIGHT train. Leaves Macon . . • 845 P. M. Arrives at Atlanta • • 4 50 A. M. Leaves Atlanta * . • 8 In P. M. Anives at Macon . . • 125 A.M. Western & Atlantic Railroad. CAMPBELL WALLACE, Sup’t. DAT PASSENGER TRAIN. Leave Atlanta ... 845A. M. Leave Dalton .... 2.30 P. M. Arrive at Chattanooga . . 5.24 P. M. Leave Chattanooga . • 8.20 A. M. Ariive at Atlanta . . . 12.05 P. M. NIGHT TRAIN. Leave Atlanta . . • 7 00 P. M. Arrive at Chattanooga . . 4.10 A. M Leave Chattanooga . . 430 P. M. Arrive at D.lton ... 7.50 P. M. Artive at Atlanta . . . 1-41 A. M. gastotfa ®nrag. DBS. HQDNETT & PERRYMAN HAVIiYG formed a co-partnership in the practice of jtfedicine, offer their Pro fessional services to the public, and as expe rienced Physicians in all the branches o f their profession, confidently anticipate that iheir former success will insure a liberal share of practice. 71ie cash system having been established in everything else, all bills will be considered doe as soon as a case is dismissed. Ovrica—Until further notice, in the front room ot the "Journal’’ building, up stairs. W. H HODNF.TT, J L. D. PERRYUAS. Dawson, Ga , June l;tt C. B. WOOTEN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Bateson, Ga. J*n'« 1868 1, DR, R. A. W A KNOCK, OFFERS bis Professional services to the citizens of Chit kasnwhatchee and Its vicinity. From ample experience in both civil and Military practice, he is prepared to treat strecessfslly, eases in every department of his profession. janl6’6Btf bylntgofs hotel. (Opposite The Passenger Ptpot.) ®ACOj|, - - GEORGIA* TS Nuw open for the reception of visitors A Having spared no expense in furnishing this House new throughout, and determined that the Tabic and Bar shall be inferior to none in the Sooth, I feel confident that I can offer to my old patrons and the public ail that they can wish in a Hotel. Call and see me. J. L. BYINGTOff, Octg3m Late of Fort Valley, Ga. ADAMS. WASHBURN l CO. FACTORS and Commission Merchants, OFFICE No 3 Stoddard’s Lower Range, j“0 30 ts SAVANNAH, 6A. Uorreapondent at Dawson, Ga., 8. R. WESTON u* *; Os Katonton, Ga. • K. IPaebbiiru, Os Savannah, Ga. A. Adami, sis Amorim*, oa. Dawson Business Directory. Dry Goods Merchant*. PRATT, T. J. Dealer in all kinds of Dry Goods. Main Street. ORR, BKOWN ft CO., Dealers in Fancy and Staple Drv Goods, Main st., under ‘‘Journal” Printing Office. SIEMIL, S. .71. A BRO., Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods, Clothing, Boots, Shoes, Hals, Trunks, Ac., Main st. IOVGESS A GRIFFIN, Dealers _J in Staple Dry Goods and Groceries. J/tin Street., _ Roberts J- w. ft co.,Deai era in Fancy and Staple Dry Goods,and Groceries, North West corner Public Square. PEEPLES W. M., Dealer in S'a pie and Fancy Dry Goods, Loyless’ Block, Main street. I7FXTON, J. A., Dealer in Bacon, Flour, Meal and Provisions generally, at Sharpe & Brown’s old stand, M tin st. KOOD, R. 11., Dealer in Groceries and Familv suoulies generally, next door to ‘Journal” Office, Main st. Cf REEK ft 81711TIONS, Grocery 3 and Provision Dealets, South side Pub lic Square. FTARNDNI A SHARPE, Dealers in Groceries and Provisions, opposite Public Square, Main st. Alexander a parrott, Dealers in Dry Goods, Groceries aud Provisions, 2nd door Irom Hotel, J/ain st. WOOTEN, WM., Dealet in Groce ries and Piovisions, Loyless Block, Main street. LWYEESS, J. K., Dealer in Groce ries and Provisions, Jfain st. L. TIICKI K A BRO., Gro • cer and Commission J/en hauls, J/a.n Street. __ Druggisl. (NIIEATHA 41, C. A., Druggist and J Physician. Keeps a good supply of Drugs and Medicines, and prescribes for all the ills that flash is heir to. At bis old stand, the Red Drug Store, Main st. Warehouse*. A. A., at Sharpe A Brown’s . old stand. Main street. Loyless a griffin, ware house aud Commission Merchants, Jfain street. millinery. WiLLunsoN, mss mol- LIE, keeps constantly on hand the latest styles of Hats, Bonnets, Dress Trim mings, Ac., Loyless Block, Jfain st. Watch Repairer. 4 LLEN, JOHN P., will repair . Watches, Clocks, Jewelry, J/usie Books, Acco and ons, Ac , always to be tound at bis old stand, on North eide of Public Square Livery Stable*. I7ARNEM A SH YKPE, Sale and ' Liverv Stable, Horses and Mules for sale and hire Horses boarded. North eide Public Square. Fringe, n. g. a j. K,saieand Livery Stable, and dealers iu Horses and Muits. Carriages, Buggies and Horses for hire. Horses boarded on reasonable terms at their new Stable on Main st. Tobacconist. LEWIS, W. TANARUS., Keeps constantly on hand, all grades of Tobacco, at Alexan der A Parrott’s, Main street. Gunsmith. S7IITH, J. G. S., Dealer in Guns, Pistols, Caps, Cartridges, aud sporting goods generally, Main st. Saloon. WARD, PATRICK, Dealer in fine iV Wines and Liquors, Cigars, Ac., J/uinst. Tannery and Shoe Shop. Lee, w. w., Shoe Afanulaetory, on South side Public Square. ORR, BROWN & CO —ARE— SELUWG GOODS VERY CHEAP! Ict our fried r remember that wc keep al ways on hand such a supply of GOODS as the times and the place demand, which WE WILE # Sell On Reasonable Terras, Home-Made Shoes. Os the best article, at ORR, BROWN & CO'S. Dawson, may 28th 1868 ; 3m. B. A PORTER. JNO. D. HUfOINS. PORTER & HUDGINS, WHOLESALE & RETAIL PRODUCE K i\» COMMISSION MERCHANTS, third street, (Opposite Southern Express Office.) Macon, Ga jud< 25;.fin DAWSON, CjtA., THURSDAY, OCTOBER SIO, 1 §OB. POETRY. THE UNFINISHED PRAYER. “Now I lay me,"—“Say it darling “Lay me," lisped the tiny lips Os my daughter, kneeling, bending O’er hir folded finger-tips; “Down to sleep’—“To sleep,” she murmured, And the curly head drooped low; ‘‘l pray the Lord”—l gently added, “You can say it all, I kuOTt.” “Pray the Lord”—the words came faintly, Fainter still—“My soul to keep;” Tber the tired head fairly nodded, And the child was fast asleep. But the dewy eyes half opened, When I cl. sped her to my breast, And the clear voice softly whispered, “Mamma, God knows all the rest.” 0, the trusting, sweet confiding Os the child heart I Would that I Thus might trust my Heavenly Father, He who h#*rs my feeblest cry. LOVER’S qiIABKELS. Well, let him go, and let him stay, I do not meau to die; I guess he’ll find that I can live Without him if I try ; He thought to frighten me with frowns So terrible and black ; He’ll stay away a thousand years Before I call him back. He said that I had acted wrong— And foolishly beside ; I wou’t forgive him after that — 1 wouldn’t il 1 died. If 1 was wrong, what right had be To be ao cross to oie? 1 know I’m notan angel quite— -1 don’t pretend to be. He had another sweetheart once— Aud now wutn we tall out, He always says she was not cross, And bat she did not pout; It is enough to vex a Saiut— It’s tuoi e than 1 call bear— I wish that other girl ol bis Was—well, 1 don’t care where. He thinks that she is pretty, too, Is beautiful as good ; I wonder If she’d get him back Again, now, il she could ; I know she would, and there she is— She lives almost in sight; And now it’s after nine o’clock, Perhaps he’s there to night. I’d almost write to him to come— But then I’ve said 1 wont — I do not care so much, but she Shan’t have him, if 1 don’t; Besides, I know that I was wrong, And be was in the right; I thiuk I’d better tell him so— I wish Le’d come to uight. A NIGHT WITH A MANIAC. BY A YOUNG PHYSICIAN. The nriniac was a giant. He bad broken his heavy chains sa Samson broke the withes; had torn open the door of his cell—torn the keeper liter ally in pieces—burst the outer door — killed the watchman with a heavy iron bar, that he wrenched from the door and escaped with his formidable wea pon into the city. The tow n was aghast with the news; and we s uden s at the hospital and dissecting ro m who were connected with the asylum, bad to nervu our selves to beip capture the escaped wild beast I had gone to the dissecting room alone, and was about to commence using the knife on a subject. There was a storrn raging, and with a low sob the wind swelled through the long aisle of forest trees and dashed with ihe gathered force of an ocean wave against the dead house. S mui'ane ously, a band struck the light door and the yell if am, nine rang through and through my brain Above the door, through a small ventilator, the face of ibe madman and the murderer peered at me. ■‘Hu 1 ha! 1 have caught you at last —here—and alone. 1 have been wait ing for you. You took me once didn’t you? Ha! ha! Let me in.” The coolness of imminent peril brought my powers to action I hold his eye an iuslant; but it was evident that he was too wild for that; h,s blood was up, and it roved with eugtr feroeny thtough the room and over the frail walls. With the light bound of a Repaid I gained tue door, and shot the double btut A gleam if rage darted Ironi his eye, but be laughed : "Ha, ha 1 You tbiuk that you wio keep me out.” He leaped to the ground In an iusiiißt the light was out. "Wait,’’ I cried. “I have a weapon in my nand as keen as a razor. It is poisoned by the body I have been working on. Burst the door and I will plunge it into your heart You may kilt me, but I will kill you also, as certain as there is a God 1” The swarthy giant shook tDe door until its hinges creaked and groaned beneath bit baud. Then laughing again low to bimseif he muttered ; ‘‘Fool 1 I’ll ou wit yiiu yet.” And stole est io the dt.rkn°ss I beard him, for an instant, pressing against the wall of the buildiog and it swayed and bent inwards with his weight, 'lhen silence. The dm of tny pulses made thunder in my earn, as l tried to hear hie stealing tread, and the sobbing wind rose anew with wierd shriek, and made tny efforts fruitless. A thousand times I beard hie low, devilish, murderous laugh. A thou sand times I felt his brawny strength against the door, and saw bis wild luce Icok down on me through the gloom; but still he did uot coins. 1 tried to thick be hud abandoned the design and slunk off diaconraged ; hut I kuew it was not so—l knew he was crouching in some corner on the watch, to spring upon me when I passed. Could I stand there all uight ? No, certainly not. An h<ur more und Hur ry Leigh (my young wife’s brother) would come and see me—come uncon oiousof the danger, until a bloodhound at his throat would choke the bravo young life down there forever. f hstened io the intervals of the now fitful storm to hear if he was breathing near me. I put my soul in the sense of Hearing, but no human shadow of sound greeted it. When the storm swelled again I drew the bolt and looked into the night; a black pall bung over the earth and sky. I had as good a chance to pass turn in the obscurity ns he to oatch mu. W itb my knile in my teeth und the massive thigh bone of a negro to fell him with, it 1 must, I drew off my shoes and stepped out into the darkness. A sudden whirl of the tem pest almost took me off my feet, and a briek, di lodged lrom one of the chim neys, grazed my head in its passage, and broke in half on the f avement. With baled breath, and a step like the tread of a panther scenting his prey, I parted the thick darkness and turned my lace toward the hospital.— He might be either here—at any step along me passage—or hid in the angle of the wall at the dooi through which I must enter This seemed most prob able; but there was another door known only to tbe doctors i thought 1 would elude him. W T itb infinite caution I began to scale the high wall, dreading horribly lest some euddcc break in the sky might reveal me to tbe wild eyes that watched for me—but no. Safely passing the summit I threw my leg ovtr the desoint, and—felt my foot seized. It wes but the clingiDg tendril of a wild vine, skirting tha wall. Graspiug my knife in my right hand, I crept along the bushes tor fifty yards, thens ruck across the lawn lor the ,-ide entrance. The darkness per plexed Hi'-, but I thought I was steer ing straight. Suddenly my foot struck bricks. Wbat this? 1 tried to rec oliect. There was no pavemeDt round that part of the hospital 1 pushed on uncertainly, and feeling a weight in the air, put out my hands to grope for some c;ew to my wherea bouts. I was in an alley—fluuked with stone walls above my head It gave a sudden turn. In au instant 1 knew I was id tbe subterranean passages of the asylum. I turned to retrace my steps—the opaque density of some heavy body crouched between ine and the outer air. I beard its stiffed breath ing—its stealthy tread approuebing me. My God ! he had followed me from the very door of the dead-house here ! A s ruggie for life with a mad man in these narrow, gloomy vaults — to he in tbe | 00l ol one’s own heart’s blood in this undiscovered tomb—and my young wife Constance !—’twas maddening. For an instant my brain was on fire. Then I thought there m ght bear, tx it—other devious windings in which I couid elude my deauly pursuer. Go ing deftly backward, I turned the i.n gle iu the wall, and then plunged at tne u ; most speed of a young and ac tive man along the pas-age. instantly I knew 1 was pursued. Meeting an other cross path I struck into it in an opp>osi e direction The maniac in stantly foil- wed me. What a race through those cavernous depths of the m idliou. e ! VVhat tragic pitfalls might lurk at every step ? whut black and stagnant poo s lie waiting to engulph me ? what deeper depth of icy biuck- Dess into w hich to fall—and fall lor- The pnssage grew narrowet. We were, perhaps, under the very ceDtre of the building, and furthered frum the lrom the outer air. *1 had tried to breathe noislessly ; the effort exhaust ed me. J knew nothing of the laby rinths; could on y guess at our posi ti n by the distance from the entrunce I bad counted the turnings we had made I thought I could retrace them. My strength was tailing. I wus fleet est but be was most enduring. Presently he w< uld ruu me down. It wus a tertible venture, but the ne cessity was imminent. 1 would try it Ga-boring ail my lorce l darted like an arrow on into the darkness, 'i be suddenness ol my increased speed baf fled him. I succeeded iu put ing silty yards between us, gained and turned the nest angle, then drawing myself against the wall, with every nerve and muscle strained in preternatural ten sion, with the mighty heave of my chest crushed into silence by an iron effort of despairing w ill, I wailed for turn to pus* me. 1 heuid bim come rushing on with new strength through the blackness, reach the anglt, turn it, string bis mass.ve body ugainst the jutting stones. I heard bun spiing like an animal on along the track. I felt hi, hot bre th like s earn—the foain of his set jaws flung atro s my face—and he slopped I felt ttiai he was fteliny Jer me! —that he was crouching on the stones. 1 saw the red lire ol bis eye balls glare up to me through the dark ness. 1 felt the touch of his icy flesh on my hand. Like lightning ha raised himself, and throwing his vast weight against me, pinioned me to the stones. All the mad rage of a man at bay surged upward to my brain. I c.a-ped my knife convulsively, and seized bim by the throat, reso.ved to die hard. It wus hairy—it was shaggy. Tho hands against my chest bad a thick coat of fur. I clusped nim to my breast. It was Liou—my dog Lion * • * ♦ * “Great Heaven, Winter Keene ! What kept you the whole night in that cursed dead nouse ! It is near by; the door bus been open this two hours, and Herbs and King have been asleep, I wus getting on my boots to look for you.” “What in the name of common sense did you let this dog out ufter me ? Will you D ll me that ?” “Why, he howled like a maniac, and clawed the door till if I had been sus picious I should have thought you in somedangei, und could not keep him in.” “Danger I Well, we can’t talk now. Rouse yourself; I have hud an inter view with your maniac, and he is prowling round the grounds after me no* . Call up the men. I must go after Phillips immediately ” “My God 1 you don’t say so 1” “Yes; don’t waste a second ” In five minutes the whole force of the hospital was out in the grounds.— We took him iu the angle of the great door, crouched behind the jut’ing wall waiting Jor met He drew his lips back over his teeth, in the dumb ferocity of a mad brute, as he saw roe, and his eyes settled into a dull, lurid gaze, impossible to describe, as he hissed out : “Ha ! this is twice— twice you tri umph, wait till the third time ’’ Around the blazing grate in the closing hour of tne tempest-tomed night, we shook hands over the glad ness of our re-uniun, and after the sto ry was over, and the horror first, and the laughter after (at the close of ray adventure,) and Derby and King bad loft, and watching the young winter day rise over the hills, there was some thing very like tears over the bold, bright blue of his eyes as he pointed to the granite walls of tbe madhouse, and said: “Constance would have gone then, Winter, and died, and mine would have been a heavy life after From tbe New York World, Oct. 15th. COTTON. Egypt as a Producer of the Great Staple. Tbe cable announcement of a heavy yield of cotton in Egypt is of great im portance to the people of the Southern States and to our people generally. The Herald thinks not, but that sheet is no better authority on cotton than politics. When it expresses contempt for Egypt as a cotton-growing rival, it betrays lack of knowledge, for it is a fact which no one properly informed will dispute-not oven Commissioner Welles’ mao Atkinson— that, of all the competitors who have takcD tbe field against ns. Egypt is by all odds the most formidable. And when it states that tbe cotton of thatconnty is “a poor, short stsple and dirty article,” it asserts what is not correct. Cotton has ling been the most impor tant item of commerce among nations This country held an uninterupted mo nopoly of tho article up to the commence ment of the war. A large portion of Eogluod’s commercial greatness grew out of aud depends upon it. To give em ploymeot to her 3,000 mills, 33 003,000 spindit sand 1,000,000 operatives, she has looked to our Sea Island and Gulf State plantations. Io a single year she actually paid out $412,000,000 for a supply. These facts sufficiently indicate the importance of our possessing the mo nopoly of supply, and of doing all in our power to regaia the ground we lost by war. That result i« certainly not to be reached by misleading cur cotton planters as to their real situation To them that there is nothing to fear from Egypt is a fallacy. There is much to fear; but it is certain that, under a sta ble political government, perseverance and well directed labor will eventually place tbe South fir:t again on the list of suppliers, aod make cultivation of tbe s aple in Egypt too unprofitable to be continued. There is a point beyond which it be comes more profitable for that country to send England breadstuff than cotton It is to that point our planters must force this rival’ Were it not for the fact that rhe cannot devote beyond a given acreage to cotton without being compelled to import the cereals for home consumption, the rivalry would be emioenily threatening. The commer cial returns of the World’s markets tell I as bow prosperously her ootton interest has thriven siuce 1861. There is no wisdom in affecting contempt lor the staple she produces; nothing to be gained by assuring our planters that our own staple is so greatly superior that no other growth can stand beside it in the mark et)* Let trs not disguise the fact that the Egyptian staple ia a good one; that it oommaods a good price; that it is all bought; and that it has been thought worth while to introduce Egyptian seed on our own plantations for trial. It has been demonstrated that our Sea-Island variety, the gest growD, cannot be pro duced in any other quarter of the world excepting along tho region of the Nile. { Proof that the Egyptian staplo is held high may be found in the fact that the seeds commonly selected for experiman tal cultivation in new asd favorable lo- Cdliihs are the American and Egyptian I and the value of the latter has been at tested in Peru, where the plant grows thriftily in tour months, while the native plant only yields in eight. When the Sultau encouraged cultivation iu Moroc co, in 1863, Amerioau and Egyptian seeds were imported from Eagland, which jointly produced an artiole claim- ed to be equal to the American in qual ity. But the the actual cotton opera tions of Egypt since 1861 arc tbe best test of her importance as a competitor, aod the results of wbioh she is capable of io an emergency. And it must always be remembered that England is dissat* •sfied with her dcpendeuco upon Amer ica for raw cotton, and will lend all possiblo aid to tLat country which offers her the prosyect of iodenpeodeoce of us. Egypt furnishes that natiofr with tho followiug amounts in the years named : 1861 41,000 000 lbs. 1862 59,000,000 lbs. 1863 93,000,000 lbs. 1864 125,000,000 lbs. 1865 177,000,000 lbs. These figures are official, and may be trusted. Io 1864 England paid Egypt ovei $64,000,000 for ootton. Tbe year before the war she paid her less than $7,000,000. There is a lesson in these figures. How far tbe preset)* crop of that coun try will interfere with our sales in Brit ish markets will depend en circumstances but one thing is certain—that we shall be importantly affcoted by it in several ways. It ill becomes us to affeet an in difference for competition that we can net afford, and it is in every respect more sensible for the South to set about reoevering her lost ootton status in all earnestness, and with a sincerity that shows her appreciation of tbe trne char acter of the situation, that for her to rely upon past power for present pro teotson. Affairs have changed and she has experienced crushing discourage ments. Her labor system has been total ly revolutionized; even worse, it has been destroyed, and she has been forced to devise anew one. la the midst of her prostration, Congress, in defiance et all tbe principles of political economy, aod with utter disregard for tho nation al good, levied a tax upon tbe stsple that would have been a daath-bkvw to its cultivation bad it been much longer retained. These drawbacks must be overcome. It oan scarcely bo believed that this section is no worthily yielding to them, and yet that would seem to be the fact from tbe reports constantly re ceived here that tho cotton area is more and more being given ovci to wheat and corn. The south can not reasonably to recover bcr»olf at once. Restoration must necessarily be gradual; and during its progress, periodical and temporary relapses must bo Icoked for. The ulti mate result can not bo doubted. We are bound to bo master of the ootton market if we use our advantages judiciously. To recover lost ground at a single stroke wo must throw a full crop into the marke*; nothing less will suffice. The planters of the South must bend all their energies to effect this If they exert themselves they will win, if not they will lose The prize is certain ly worth the effort. The losses on a short crcp one year will be compoDs.tcd by the gains on a fail crop the next one. Above all, it should bo remembered that the reign of Rtdiculism will Dot last forever, atd that there is a period com ing when we are to produce an annual orop of 5,000,000 bales, to manufacture it for ourselves, and thou convey the fabrics to the great markets of the world by American means of transportation. Eogland may set that down as a fixed fact. Let the S.itrtb keep her eyes npon it, and steadfastly labor on in the fulfilment of her sure and prosperous destiny. A Scene in Court —An individual possessing unmistakable evidences of African extraction, was arrainged tor larceny. The Judge, ae right, was dignified, but with severe presence ‘Are yod guilty or not guilty Y be in quired. ‘Sur Y ‘Did you steal these clothes V be re- peated. ‘Golly boss, ’clar I never done it ’ ‘This man says you did.’ , ‘He ain’t nothin’ but white trash.’ ( ‘And what are you ?’ ‘Me? Why don’t yer know me? I r, and wid you in do pern scion. 1 help ed to tote you home when yer got tired dat night —don't yer ’member mo now Y There was the ‘suddeoest’ no! pros in that darkey’s ease that judicial arv ! nala afford an esarnp'e of. So much for the advantages of good society.— N. 0 Pic. The Rural World siys that a hog sweats not like a home or a man, but through his forelegs. There is a spot on each leg just below the knee, in the form of sieve. Through this the sweat pass es off, and it is necessary that this be kept open. If it gets closed up, as is | sometimes the case, the hog will get 1 sick, he will appear s'iff and cramped, and unless he gets relief it will go hard ■ with him. To cure him, simply open the pores. This is done by robbing the sinrt writ a corn cob, and washing with warm water. Is it any indication that the city has no farm yard attributes when the snow will not "lay f” Yol. 11l iVo. 38. I Tbe letter of William Smith, tbs colored orator who addressed tbe oiti tens of Dawson a few weeks ago, has 1 made its appearance. Smith l shows tip Radioal sympathy for tha oolored man , “ovor tho left." We copy his letter from tbe Macon Tefegrapk. ■? As yon see 1 by this communication 1 arn at the great headquarters of Radical ism in America. You know t started on invitation to vieittbe State of Maine but since arriving here and seeing whsl ebanoe a colored man has in the North, I have concluded to return home. And now 1 want to show my oolored friends what they may exptot on their travels in the Rtadioal States. I arrived at Atlanta just before day. It was a cold, damp morning, and I Win a stranger in a strange place. I asked someone where I could find z place to stay until light, and was pointed to the National Hotel, the headquarters of Gov. Bullook and the Radioal party iu Atlanta. After all the passengsnrwere through registering, I went np to the elerk, puffed of my bat and asked him eould I stand by bis stove till daylight. He looked st me, saw that I was colored, and replied: “No, no, this is no nigger hotel—we have no negroes here but a few waiters, and if we could do any bet ter would soon get shed of them.’* I told him I did not ask to stop at his hotel, hut I was a stranger and only wanted to stand by the stove in the cf fioe, till it was light, He said, ‘‘go out and stand by the door, and when the porter gets throngh with his bsggage he will show you a nigger hotel.” 1 left immediately aod was pointed to tbe United Btates hotel, which they told me was the Democratic headquarters and was kept by a Southern man. 1 1 asked the clerk, there, Could I stand by bis stove till it was light? and he said “Ob, yes, my good fellow, and she them carpet bags and trunks and make you up a bod. You can get a right good nap before day-light.” And here you see the diff rence between a Southern mao, as he has been used to ns all his life, and the Northern man who is not used to us and docs not like aw. I left Atlanta cn the nine o’clock morning train for this place, and all ! the way along I met with the same dis- f rejer; wherever I spoke to a Southern whiteman; he gave me a kind answer, but I could tell a Northern man Lot more from his looks, than the way he treated the colored people* When 1 got to Washington, I was tired out and wanted a dram. So I went to a bar-roctn, as I would do in Macoo; and asked for ons. The bar keeper iookod at me—raised bis eyes and said, says he, “No niggers are al - lowed to drink at this bar. Says I, ”1 axes your pardon—l am a stranger, a travelling about and I wants a drink mightily, anl would you please tell mo how 1 cwrgetone ?’’ Says he, "Thar’s a perlieeman at 'ho door, and if yon givo him tie money he will buy one for yon.’ Then I went to the door, and pulled off my hat and stated what I wanted. Says he, give me fifty cents, which I did.— Then says bej you stand here. Then he went in and soon bronght out a little wbi-tkey ia a tumbler, and I drank it in the street* Then I stopped a while to see if there was any change coming, and he says, says he, what is you waiting; for? Brys Ia little change, if you please Says be—chango hell—we djrs’t wart on niggers for nothing up hero. | Then I next encountered a gentleman in a high place, holding office of both trust and honor under the United States Government, and I assure yoa he talked very plain. Says he, we Northern peo ple have no use for negroes. We are willing yon should be free and have freed you, but as for yonr equality no tions, they ar« all stnff and nonsense. Do yon reckon I would tske yoa inside my house ? Do you reckon yon conld sit at my table? No, yon eould not come inside my gate. Yon negroes mast learn to keep ponr place* The South is the best p'ace for you to live in. If yoO oorne North you will starve, for we have no place for yon here. These few anecdotes will tell yen, my colored friends, what the Northern sympathy for ns means. It is all a po litical bobby and thare’s nothing in it. It won’t give yon a pla-e by the whita man’s fire—or a morsel at his table—or a bit of whiskey in his bar-room, or • kind word, except he wants to nee job. There’s more kindness for the negro among our old masters in the South, in a day, than there is in a year among the people op this way. Tho Southern white men are yonr best friend*. Btand by them and don’t , mind this Northern talk. : I remain, your humble servant, William Smith. * i “The child is fa.her to tboman.”Not r invariably; we have known it to be the mother ot the woman.