The Dawson weekly journal. (Dawson, Ga.) 1868-1878, March 14, 1878, Image 1

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THE DAWSON WEEKLY JOURNAL by J. I). IIOYL & CO. guuson oStct'klw d'ouiuul published eveky Thursday. I -KiUflS— strictly in .frfrme. Throe months ? 75 gi i months 1 *5 One ye ir L ZZ l ;—Tlie money fomd ,e”li*ing considered due alter first inser tl°A’lV'-'-uaerr,ents inserted at intervals to be thread as new each insertion. An"additional charge of 10 per cent will bemide on advertisements ordered to bein gerted on a particular page. Advertisements undej,tbß head of “Spe- Votices” will be inserted for 15 cents nor line, for the first insertion, and 10 cents L line’for each subsequent insertion. Advertisements in the 44 Local Column, willbe inserted at 25 cent* per line for ihe (j r jt, and 20 cent'per line for each subse quent insertion. M All commonicfttions or letters on business ptended for this office should £e addressed 0 “The Dawson Journal ” legal ADVERTISING RATES. Sheriff sales, per levy of 1 square $4 00 Mortgage sales, per levy 8 00 Tar sales, per lew 4 OO Citations for Letters of Administration 4 00 Application for Letters of guwdia ship 6 Application for Dismission from ministration.... . 10 00 Application for Dismissiom liom Guardianship 6 00 Application for leavo to srtl Land— )tic eq each additional square.... 400 Application for Homestead S 00 Notice to debtors and creditors ... 600 Land sales, per sqtare (inch) 4 00 Sale of Perishable property, per pq 3 00 Estrav Notices, sixty days 8 00 Notice to perfect service 8 00 Kale Nisi, per square 4 00 Rules to establish lost papers, per sq 400 Rules compelling titles, per square.. 4 00 Rules to perfect service in Divorce cases 10 00 The above are the minimum rales of legal advertising now charged by the Press of Georgia, and which we shall strictlv adhere to in the future. Wo hereby give firislno lice that no advertisement of this class wil b? published in the Journal without the fee in advance, only in cases where we Lave special arrangements to the contrary #voff3£ioMl Gterfl*. __ N. B. Barnes, a REPAIRER OF •WATCHES, noers, and Jewelry. Office on Mnio street Dawson, Ga. Satisfaction guarantee!. Charge* teas •nable. sop 6,6 m. J. 11. QUEIIKT, JAB, G TANKS GUERRY & PARKS, pfjißjjs apd Colplor? at LaW, DAWSON, - GEORGIA. —:o: I)RAOTICE in the St*te and Federal lOourm. Collections m.tdi? a ppcoiiitv.— /romp mess and dispatch guarantied end insured. Nov ltf 8. F. SIMMOBS, ltl’l at Lai* X Ileal tjtate fg’t, Dawson, Terrell Comity, Ga CTF. ;laL tentiQn ziven to collections. O conveyancing c|fd investigating: titles t# Real Kttate. Oct. 18, tf JAMES ICKKI-. ATTQRSEY AT LAW, MORGAN', Calhoun Cos., Georgia. J)USIKE3S intrusted to my c*re will he ) promptly attended to. Special atteut iau "ill be given to collections. T. TT. PICKETT, Atfy & Counselor at Law, OVHOE w'th Ordinary in Conrt House. All business entrusted tc his care itt receive prompt and efiioient attention. J.iltt J. lIKCK, Attorney at Law, organ* Callionti County*CJa. ill practice in the Alba? Circuit and elec w' ere in the State, by Contract. .Prompt ut> tentiou given to aU business entrusted to his fare. Collectiofia a specral'ty. Will also in* titles and bv or sell real Estate in walhaun, ILifrer and Party Counties, mareh 21-tf L. G CART LEDGE, Attorney at Law Morgan, - . geoiegia. \\ ft.L ?ive close attention to all busi ' ness euti uated to bis care iu Albany *"“• 4-1 y L- C- IJOYIJ, Attorney at Law. Dawson, Georgia. 0. H. MILLER, AT I.AW, -Uorgan, Ga. Wo®ce in Ordinary’s Office. 030,3 m J - JANES, ATTORNEY at law, CAWS oy, - GEORGIA. 1 ov<ir JW. J'h nst ou’s store. Jan 7 Medical card OR JNO. aTgUDDEN, tvi £V y ' : GEORGIA > \ I , ’ "is proteasional services to the tt.na°j P*U*®nn. AH call, promptly iu. * 0 ' Erst side of the pahlie Sept 20, tul Mil cnuilcu DO, trine. There s come a sing’lar doctrine, Sue, Into our church to-day: 1 W cur’us are what the new l OUng preacher had to say: I hat literal everiastiu’ fire ' V as mostly in our eye; lhat sinners dead, if they desire, Can got another try; '* u " armer eliine ti v , . world could be proved; •TT ’ii' ° hlM l’ fear some tirno Hell get his doubts removed. I’ve watched my duty straight an’ true, And tried to do it well: Pai t of the time kept heaven in view, An part steered clear o’ hell; An now half of the work is naught, it 1 must list to him, And this ere devil I have fought r \\ as only just a whim! Vain are the dangers I have braved, 1 lie sacrifice they cost, For what fun is it to be saved If every one else is lost? Just think! Suppose, when once I view The heaven I've toiled to win, A lot of unsaved sinners, 100, Come walkin’ grandly in! An’ acts at home, same as if they Had read their titles clear; An’ looks to me, as if to say, We’re glad to see you here? As if to say, while you have be’tt So fast to toe the mark, We waited till it rained, an’ then Got tickets for the ark ? Yet there would be some in that crowd I’d rather like to see ; My boy Jack—it must he allowed, There was no worse than he 1 I’ve always felt somewhat to blame, In several different ways, That lie lay down on thorns o’ shame To end bis boyhood days; And I’d he willin’ to endure, If that the Lord thought best. A miuuite’s quie hot temperature, To clasp him to my breast. Old Captain Barnes was evil’s son— With he.erodoxy crammed; I used to think he’d be the one , If any one was dammed: Still, when I saw a lot o’ poor, That he had clothed and fed, Cry desolately round his door As soon as he was dead, There came a thought I couldn’t con trol, That in some neutral land, I’d 1 ke to meet that scorched up soul And shake it by the hand. Poor Jennie Willis, with a cry Of hopeless, sad distress, Sank sudden down, one night to die, All in her ball room dress; She had a precious little while To pack np and away; She even left her sweet, good smile— ’Twas on the face next day; ' Her sottl went on unclothed by even One sticli of saving grace; llow could she hope to get to heaven And start from such a place? Hut once when T lay sick an* weak, She came and begged to stay; She kissed my fadded, wrinkled cheek— She soothed my pain away; She brought me sweet boquets’ of flowers As iresh as -her young heart— ■ Through many long and tedious hours . She played a Christian part; And ere 1 long will standnin’ The ringin' saints among, 1 11 try to take some water down To cool poor Jennie’s tongue. But tears can never quench my creed, Nor sinooih God’s righteous frown, Though all the preachers learn to read Their Bibles upside down. I’ll hold mine right side up with care To shield mine eyes from sin, An’ coax tiie Lord with daily prayer, To call poor wanderers in; But if the sinners won t draw nigh, An’ take salvation’s pain, I'll have to s' and an’ see ’em try To dodge hell if they can. — —— leivcstigiitiou on Butter. Good, fresh butter posi-esses the well known Agreeable taste and a slight smell of milk, while rancid butter smell* very disagreeably. The lattdr maybe converted* into an eat able food by treatment with water, in which case the soiuhio rancid parts are lemoved. The taste and color oi tho butter drpond upon the class of animals and the fodder used. Its color is oftou adulterated by means of small quantities ot beet loots orother plants possessing coloring power. The coloring matter may be detected by treating the butter with strong al cohol. Butter fat is a complex sub s'ante, containing varying proportions oi eight different acids. Bure butter dissolves reacily in other lortning a c'oar lemon yellow liquid while hog 6 lard, beef fat, mutton L.t and ta:low form turbid milky solutions. 'I he fat of pure butter when saponified with sodajye, yields a soap less hard aod firm than that produced by adulter ated butter. DAWSON, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MARCH 14 1878. A YOUNG WIFE'S LESSON. “Indeed, Charley, I don’t think yon ought to expect it of me!” ( lara Arden stood coloring, and evidently annoyed,in the midst of her pretty little drawing room, while her husband leaned against one of the pulled damask chairs, pulling uncon sciously at his long beard. “It won’t be too much, Clara,” said he. ‘Tcnwiek is too sensible a fellow to expect any great perform ance from so young a housekeeper as you are.” "That’s all nonsense!” said Mrs. Arden. ‘A es, but Clara, darling—” “1 here’s no use wasting any furth er argument on the question,” said C lara, setting her lips together - . ■AV lien you invited him to dinner without consulting me, you made a very grave mistake.” “But what am I to do? I’ve asked him, and there is no alternative!” “A es there is. Do as other gentle men do, and invite him to the res taurant—that is, if you must keep this headlong engagement!” “But I never did such a thing in my life before!” said the perplexed Cli alley. * “And I hope you never will again!” retorted Mrs. Arden, with some acerbity. “That is, so far as invit ing without any sort of forethought goes!” Ti e color rose to Charlie Arden’s cheek!” “Clara,” said lie, “if you had asked people here, my only thought would be how best to welcome them!” “You are not a housekeeper,” said Clara, coldly, “with a sick cook and everything in disorder.” “Pshaw!” said Mr. Arden, as he went out, closing the door behind him, with more emphasis than was absolutely necessary. “Men are so selfish, so inconsider ate,” she said to herself. “As if I would brave the criticism of Oscar Fenwick, who has dined at Paeisian restaurants, and knows half a dozen aristocratic families, where they keep men cooks, and battlers, and regular dining-room servants. It’s quite out of the question, nncf so Charle may as well understand first as last. If Bridget not ill with the inter mittent fever, I might, perhaps, have tried to get up a dainty little dinner: but as it is, no one but a man would expect it of me.” So Mrs. Arden adjusted her pretty shining braids of brown hair in the glass, and nestled down in the oor ner of the sofa, to forget the weri spme trials and vicissitudes of real life in the pages of the morning pa pers. It waslate in the afternoon whep a visitor was announced, with rather starling abruptness, by the red-armed maid—maid 01-alb work—who was trying to supply the vacant place of the disabled Bridget, according to the best of her ability. “Please, mam, it’s Mrs. Marley.” Clara started up, half ashamed of being caught in her morning robe so late’ia the day. “If it were any one birt you, Mrs. Marlcv,” said she, laughing and blushing, “I should apologize for my shortcomings. ’ As it is, you are just in time to take off your things and stay to dinner with me. lam alone to-night, and j our society will be a real charity.” “Why, where is your husband?” asked tho visitor, in surprise. “J lining out.” “W here f ” “I don’t know. The fact is, he met an old college friend this morning, and iu a burst of inconsiderate hospi tality—so like a man, you know—in vited him to dinner. Of course, I re fused to ratify the invitation. What could I do, with Bridget ill in bed ? So I told hhn he must take his friend to a restaurant, or some such place. He a scented with rather bad graee. I must confess, so here I am, alone.” Mrs. Marley was a pretty, fair-com plexioned lady, with hair as white as snovr. One of these gentle, hopeful, motherly sort of persons, who are in. valuable to their friends. She shook her head as she listened to Mrs. Ar den’s story. “Don't you think I did right,” ! Clara asked, impulsively. “Just con sider how I an) situated!” “It would have been some trouble and responsibility,” said Airs. Mar ley, “to superintend the preparation of such meal as you would like to ask your husband’s guest to sit down to; hut I think I should have advised you to try.” “But why?” “In the first place as a compliment to your husband.” Clara shrugged her shoulders. “We are old married people now,” said she. “Only think, it is nearly three years since our wedding day— and all this sentimental billing and cooing is worn out.” “Real sentiment between husband and wife should never wear out.” said Mrs. Marley, mildly, “Depend upon it,' my love, your husband will appre ciate any delicate attention now quite as much as in the days of your en gaged life. But this is not all. Let me tell you a little experience of my own. I had a brother once—a very dear brother. He died of delirium tremens:” “Ob, Mrs. Marley!” Clara Ardeu placed a spmpathetie hand in that of her friend, for she saw that the pret ty old lady had grown pale and trem bled. “Yes, my dear,” went on Mrs. Marley. “He had a gay, pretty, young wife, who disliked the cares of housekeeping—and it was an un derstood thing between them that any gentleman guests whom it fell Clement’s lot to entertain should be taken to some hotel or restaurant. Well, my dear, you knowhow it the wine flowed freely—there was no feminine presence to restrain the fit!se idea of good fellowship. Clem ent acquired the fatal habit of indis. criminate drinking, and the upshot of it was that he filled a drunkard’s grave. Perhaps I was uncharitable, but 1 have always thought that had his wife made her home agreeable to her husband and his guests, things might have ended different ly.” “But, Mrs. Marley,” cried Clara, much shocked, “this is quiet a differ ent thing.” “I do not say that it is not, Clara. I only want to warn you against the rock on which my poor sister-in-law’s life was wrecked. Of what use is all our sad and hardly-won experience, if not to caution others a little ?” Clara was silent for a moment or two, and when she spoke again, it was on quite a different topic. Mrs, Marley stayed and dined with her off' the cold joint and simple salad, and went home at about eight o’clock. And then came the long and lone ly evening, during which Clara sat by the window, wai ing and listent ing for every soufVd, nervously impa tient for her husband’s return. “Of course, he is not the sort of man to drink too much,” she told heY self, over mid over again; “but—but I nm almost sorry I whs so obstina'e iihou' not asking Air Fenwick to din ner. It would not have been so very much trouble, after all, and I think Ohatley was vest'd about it.” Niue o’clock struck—then teu — then elveven —and Clara sprang up and began pactng tho room in her nerousnees. “Yes I passed him. A policeman has just walked him off to the station house, So you were frig burned eh ?” Clara’s face wasradieut as she turned up the low jet of gas. “I am so glad you have cooie Char ley” said she. “I have had a great many compunctions of conscieuceThis afternoon, 1 didu’t make Air. len wick wtdeomo to the best I had in tho house instead of sending j'ou off to a icstauiant.” “V\ e went to Leoude’s” taid Char ley. “The dinner was stylish enough but nothing better thau you could have given us at horns.” “Aud Charley” ud led Clara softly “tho nrxt time you mvite a friend to dine with you, you way be certaia that my welcome will be ready.” “That’s my cwn dear little Clara,” tatd Charley. And the harty satis faction in his lace we a reward for any sacrifice she might be calhd u • on to make. “A fellow likes to foel you know when he meets an old chum that he has a home to a-k him to, anil a wife that will meet him with a smile.” “But I am sony about Mr. Fen wick.” “Never mind. He will be in town again one of those days and dun we’ll show him what a home-made dinner is—eh, Ciarra ?” And Oiaru’s smile answered him. She had had iter lesson. She was not likely to forget it. “I wish he would come !” she cried wringing her hauds. “I wish be would come!” Jit*: then there was some disturb ance in tlie sheet; and glad ut all hazards to escape from her own harrassing thoughts, Claia threw open die window and thiust out her head There was a little crowd at the cor ner of the street, and she could dis tinctly hear the jeering voice of the little street Arabs crying out, “It’s only a drunken man! He 10, mister, you’l find your hat in the gutter! Ca“’t you tel! where you live? Go and ask an officer.” Clara’s head turned cold as ice. Could it be possible? Was this poor, staggering creature, whose uncertain step afforded amusement to ° mob of hoys, her noble husband ? Had lie so far forgotten himself and her’? And if so, at whosi door lay the fault? Nearer anti nearer came the little crowd. Clara drew in her head, and closed the window. She could not bear to have the dreadful probability confirms' . She stopped her ears ; she tiurried tier face in the pillows oi the sofa. “W hv, Clara, little wife, what’s the matter 1” It was Chailey’s voice—not the maudlin accents of semi-intoxication, hut the fu'l deep tones of the man sh“ felt she could vat honor, as well as love and obey. She looked up with a little hysterical laugh. “Olt, Charley, I was so frighten-d 1 A drunken man in the street, you know—” llow tlic Utilized Him “Your husband is sick a good deal of late, isn’t lie?” remarked a south ern Illiuois woman to another, one day this week, “Ye3” answered th wife, “he’s got tuk down mighty harl with them ’ere agorehak‘B agin.” “I shud think it ’ud bo sorter dis tressing’ like to have him ’round tho house,” remarked the other sympathz ingly, “spec’ly when yer bouse-cloat.- ic. ” “Wal se it wud be,” replied the wife in self consoling tones, “but when he’s git inter one of his chills and I want the rag carpet eliuk, lie’s a powerful smart hand to Hitch into it.” Then the other woman wended her way home, envying her neighbor the knack she had of utilizing her hus band.— Chicago Eoenina Journal. —— mm*- • I'll Pay you I’or Tlittl. A hen trod wn a duck’s foot. She did not mean to do it, and it did not hurt much. But the duck said, I’ll pay you for that!” So the duck fl wat the hen ; but as she did so her wing struck an old goose who stood close by. “I’ll pay you for that !” cried the gr.ose, and she flew at the duek ! but as she did so her foot tore the fur off. a oat who was just then in the yard “I’ll pay you for that l” stied the cat, and she flew at the goose ! but as she (lid *o her tail brushed the eye of a sheep who was near. “I’ll pay you for that !” cried the 6heep, and he tan at the ca’.j: out as he did so his foot hit tho foot of,a dog, who lay in tiie sun. “i’ll pay you for that? cried he, and fie ran at the sheep ; but as he did so his leg struck an old eow who stood by the gate. “I’ll pay you for that!’’ cried si o and she tail at tiie dog ; but as she did so her horn grazed the skin of a horse who stood by a tree. “P;l pay you tor ;hat” cried tie hOi’se, and ne ran at the cow. What a run there wag ! The horse fl -w at the cow, aud the cow at-the clog, aad the dog at the she *p, and tlm sheep at the cat, and the cit at the goose, end the goose at the duck, and the duck at the tien. What a noise they made to be sure! “Hi, hi! What is all this?” cried tie man who had the care of then) ; “I cannot have this noise. You may gtay here,” he said to the hen. But he drove the duck to tie pood, and the goose to the field, aud tb cat to ’he barn, an 1 the sheep to her fold, and the dog to the houso, and the cow to the yard, aud the horse to his stall. “i’H pay you lot that!” sail the 1 man.- A wmry trclibidiep bilttbnus oil Tom periiiioo. A lecture was de ivered at the Cathe dral last evening by the Archbishop of Baltimore at the request of the Ro man Catholic total abstinence societies, on “The Virtue of Temperance.” The Ci ngregadou packed the seating and standing c pacify of the edifice. Del egation of total abstinence societies from several of the Catholic patishes were present in regalia and a number of c’etgymen occupiod seats in the sanctuary- The lec'urer eloquently depicted the evi : s and horrors of intemperance and portrayed the diunkard through his \arious cours-s of misfortune, povetty an 1 crime. The poverty of the inehrialo squat) lerer was charac terized as of the most contemptible ort. Ad utkard lowers himself be low t' 6 brute who slakes his thirst, while the former maddeus his blood with strong driuk. Insanity is one of the greate.iis resulting from iniouj perance. The report of an insane institution shows that one-half the inmates owe l their insaiuity to strong drink. In Massachusetts to show the need of an insane asylum it was said that 32,000 persons in that State alone were driven to insaui'y by alchohoh'c intemperance. The drunkatd is too often Die slave of blasphemy lustful brutality at home and neglectful of the payment of his debts. Intetnper_ once has filled prisons and penitenti aries and the worst crimes were the offs ping of the madderning drink.— The worst crime of Be ahazz tr was reserved until he was in a state of in toxication. Alchoh'd has slain more than ti e sword of theconqueror or the greatest pes ilence. Their choice was to he teraperernce or intemperance, honor or dishonor, life or death. The Archbishop exhorted his hearers to the practice of temperance. If they find that indulging in a lit tle leads to excess, then the oniy r rmedy was total abstinence, “for he who loveth the danger shall perish Iherein ” The solicitation ot fiieuds should not shake thorn from their purpose. They should guard against certain quack medicines called “flit ters,” an insidious means of distribut ing alcohol —“using the livery of Heaven to serve the devil in.” Temperance should be advocated by work and example, and by asking and inducing others to join temper ance societies. He exhorted parents to set the example of temperance aud yirtore for their children, who under such influences will be a credit to the American republic, and of whom they may he equally as proud as was that Roman mother of the Gracchi, who, whtn asked for her jewels presented Iter children.— Baltimore Sm. A Gambler’* Varying I.iick. A gam 1 ler told this story to aCinein nati reporter : “There used to be on actor here who was a great gambler. His name was Johnny Mortimer. Ho was a member of the stock company at Pike’s iu 1862. He was a magnifi cent dresstr. and prided himself ot> being the boat dressed oan in town. Oae December night I saw him, after the play was over, come into a house at the corner of Vine and Fifty. He was dteßsed to perfection—overcoat, shining plug, cane, watch, big chain —everything gorgeous aud tho best. There were no players.aud the game was idle, but he made them open up for him. He bought S2O worth of ctiips, and lost. He changed in S2O more, and lost. He lost all his mn - ey and then offered his clothes. He was all owed 820 for his overcoat, and lost than. He passed ov r Ins coat oud got $lO worth of chips, awl iost. He played in his watch and chain, his vest, his hat, his cane —even his shoes ani panta'oons—and got desperate He asked me to go and got something for him to drink to keep him warm and get an old barrel for him to walk home in. He then {offered his necktie m his last chance land was allowed fifty cents fbr it. I His five chips won, and he sti tu k a ■ streak; won his cloths back and came near breaking the bank.” It is stated that at the WhiteHous G thev.sing good •id-fashion hymns on Sabbath eveniugs.- This i all right and iu tk'S one teel kindly toward the President and family. But the New York Sun comes along and flings a brick through the window by saying that they never sing “When I cau read my title clear.” VOL. XIV. —NO 3. A C:j; erf ill Woman.* Wha' a blessing to a household is a merry, ehearful wo matt—into whose spirits are not affected by wotdays, Or littiedisapp'iintments, or whose mills of human kindness does not sour in Ihe sunshine of prosperity: Suoh a woman in the darkest hours brightens | the house like a piece of sunshiny weather. The maggetism of her smil es and electrical brightness of her looks and movements infect every ono The children go to school with a senso of something *o he achieved ; her hus band goes into the world in a eonquer er’s spit it. No matter how people an noy and worry him all day, far off her presence shines, and he whisper# to himself, “At home I aha) find rest.” So day by day she literally renews bis strength and energy, aud if you know a mur with a beaming face, a k.nd heart, and a prosperous business is nine cases out of ten you will find be has a wife of this kiud. A Powerful Tempkbxnce Sehxox. —Neither love, nor self-respect, nor the roy 1 purpis pledge, noranyither creature, coul l keep Aquilla Toland from getting drunk. Last Chrisrnns he signed the pledge and promised his wife to keep it at all hazards. Ha resisted temptation for several weeks, and when his wife and child left Decatur, 111, on a short visit to rela tives in a town in Ohio, ho renewed his vow, swearing ho would keep it or die. On Friday of last week he shot himself, after writing to his dear Lydia these huet :‘T have failed to keep my pledge, and, oh, you don’c know how hard I have tried; and now I have concluded not to disgrace you any further, and the horrible wtiy I rid you and dear Bessie is very repulsive to me, ss 1 know it is to you and all my relatives - But my conclusion is final; so farewell" While I was in town this week aud a part of last I was very drunk every day, and, although it is a fearfully humiliat.- ing ackiiowledgracut to make, I con sider it the most manly way.’ Ha charged bis wife to pay all his bar bills and debts except one—-$l9O to B!&k, lost at pro! while the knight of the royal purplo ribbon was vety drunk. Going lo “Stick.” Three or four days ago a genflemc. passing tip Griswold street washated by a very courteous, but very hard up tramp, who said ; “Will you give n. money enough to enable mo tn pur chase 5 dish of fried oysters ?” “Fried oysters! Great lands! Bit you are mighty particular for a p m nilessmarij” exclaimed thopedestr “So I am—so I am. I was brought i that way, sir. I'm out of money, hm - gry us a wlf, and want tried oytr .< and their appropriate surroundings. flo didu’t get them. Next day lo wa* encountered on the postolil s eps, looking more hungry than the day before, aud the gentleman iuquu.r ed : “Have you concluded to come down to beef and potatoes yet?” “No, sir—l still stick for fried oy ,- ters,” was the reply. At dark that night the high-tom I tramp encountered the same man in grocery on Woodward avenue, awl without watting to be questioned l. began “I still call for fried oysters.” “And you haven’t got ’em?” “No, sir.” “And you are about asnear atarv <1 as you want to be?” “Nearer, sir. In fact, I am aim r. to die 1 1 was born a gentleman, I'., t naturally high-toned, and I want •• die decently. We will skip over tier subject of fried oysters and I will >-ic you to lend me a pairo? red woolen. Ail Eggs-lrawrdiiiury Feel. A few days ago n party of young gentlemen in this place in ordei to get up some amusement, propos' and to buy two dozen eggs for a certain fellow if he would agree to such them. He said he would endeavor to amnsa j them, a* it had been several div-t S since he hail had a “square maH”', t '••ggs. The b- ya “get ’em up.” -n 1 the egg sucker buckled down to lo* task. After he had disposed of <wu> or three eggs someone iem:i v t that one of the shells cortf une l , little “chick” but H didn’t ha-.e any ; effect on the sucker and he cmtin | ued to dispose of the eggs until sucked the two dozen, and then t.i.-fc i m“> two eggs ni' re in order to u.*k | up lor that which he left stick ng on ! the insice of the shells—making twenty-six in all that he euckob Tlnr biyssay that the champion | ei’s stomach and dn’t seem to “uii u" ut ail, and they are coufi lent that li. could have devoured two or thre-doz en more if they could have mu- ei eJ |up the nickels to “get ’em up” again. What an awful thiDg it would he for this fellow to come in contract with a hen’s neit fall of eggg ! —II; vki.sciU* JJispifch. •