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gatuson SSlwfelri Journal, Fabliihod Ever; Frida;, c. & J. E. CHIUSTIAN EDITORS AND PUBLISHERS. XJC HJttS— Strictly In (Three m0uth5................. .$1 (X) ttix montbß #2 on <Oae rear.... fs 00 Aisles of •Advertising : One dollar per square of ten lines for the Best insertion, and Seventy-five Cents per square for each subsequent insertion, not ex ceeding three. One square three months | 8 00 Oue square six month 12 00 One square oue year., 20 00 Two squares three months... 12 00 Two squares six months 18 00 Two squares one year 30 00 Fourth of a column three moths 80 00’ fourth of a column ait months 50 00 Half column three moths 45 00 Half column six months 70 00 One column three months 70 00 Ota column six months. 100 00 Job W*ork of every description eye anted with neatuess and dispatch, at moderate rates. HOYL & SIMMONS, ATTORNEYS AT UW, rijtwbojr, - - geohga.a. *.. 0. HOTL. jan2slv. R. V. SIMMONS. C. B. WOOTEN, ATTORNEY ATj r LAW, 21y "Dawson, Ga. «J. P.~ALLEN, wvtch and lEPAIRER JEWELER. Dawson, G-a., IS prepared to do any work in his line in the very best style. feh23 ts J. <u. s. smithT GXJN SMITH and Machinist, 0.1 U'Sft.r, : Georgia. Repairs all kinds of Guns, Pistols, Sewing Katrines, etc., etc. 2 ly. W. c. PARKS, attorney at Law. Mat Sly n.W'SO.Y\G.I. C.W.WAR WICK. •A'lorney at Late and Solicitor in Equity. m.HITIiI'MI.EE - - - GEO., WILL practice in Lee, Sumter, Terrell and Webster. Law L t 6ti c L 'll HOKG.iX will practice iu all the ll* courts of the South western, in Irwin al the Southern, Coffee and Appltts of the Brunswick, aud most of the com ts of the I’a taula Circuits. t'Wee on Washington Street, opposite the ICj,*. as office, Albany, Ga. mevll ly lAWCARD. undersigned will at'end to any legal A business entrusted to hie care, in South* western Georgia. Office at Cntb»*rt, Randolph co., Ga. niayll,ly K- U- PLATT T. ±t. STEWART, attornev at law, Cuthlert, ndolph Cos., Ga., All l.nsiness entrusted to bis care will be faithfully attended to. June 1 L. DOUGLASS, Attorney at Law, June 1 C VTHBEItT, G.t. J. E. HIGGINBOTHAM, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Jsorgan, Calhoun Cos., Ga., Will practice in *ll the Courts of the South western and PataulaCircuits. June 1 E. H. SHACKELFORD, ATTORNEY AT LAW, CAMILLA, Cos., «a., A GKNT far parch.*** and tale o LAND. June 1, 1806. DR. S. G. ROBERSON, SURGEON! DENTIST Mu;4 Cuthhert, Georgia. J C L MARTIN GENERAL iNwRASCE AGENT AND EXCHAN6E DEALER, JE IJFVFtLwf t •.Alabama Represents a paid Capital in A No. 1 Companies of *99,000.000. TakfS iFire, Inland, River, Marine, Life, and Acci dent risks. Losses promptly adjusted and paid. »pr 27-ly. LSXOT BROWW, THOS. O. STK7T A UT. DROWN &STEWART, Ware House a n<l COMMSSIOA MERCII HITS, at Sharp A Brown’s old stand, p.nrsar geougi.i. We are determined to u*e our utmost en deavors to give entire satisfaction to all who may favor us with their patronage ! and as far as possible to be to them, in this depart ment, (what we have often felt, and what eve ry planter must feel that he needs) ju-t and efliahle friends. That we may be better ena bled to carry out this design, we have secured as business agent, the well known and reliable Capt. John A. Fulton. Just balance," is our motto. Afarch 8 1867. ~wTr. & N. M. THORNTON Practical Dentists, Opt wsojr, «.f. HF" Office in Harden's now building, West Bide, Depot Street. Dec. 14 , WILL SELL! FtJRKITURE, Buggies and Rockeways at Cost for the Cash, as I wish to close pot that branch of my basineas. Apr'l lltb, IW7-jm E. B LOYLES3. THE DAWSON JOURNAL. Vol. 11. Home and its Influence*. A writer of some celebrity has truthfully abservod, thut the throe sweetest words in the English lan guage are Mother, Home, and Heaven. Os the joys, the influences, and tho at tractions of home, poets have sung in | their most harmonious strains. Around i it, in childhood, in the prime ot life, | and in old age, cluster the heart’s pu rest and best affections. Like a bea , con of light to the way-worn traveler, ! it guides the weary to a haven of rest, j It needs no palatial mansion, no highly | ornamented grounds ; nor indeed is it I necessary that wealth shru'd at all ' surround us to muke our homes hnp- I py. Loving hearts, and lips that biealhe naught of anger or unkindness, should belong to the home circle There tho influence of woman is felt by the little band that gathers eaoh day and night around the cheerful hearth stone, where pleasant stories, useful reading, and conversation be- I guile the hours. As mothers and wives, women exert an immense influ ence over the destiny of men. The chivalrous heroes of ancient times made the approbation of woman, the incentive to glorious deeds of arms.— Yet such renown she covets net; but prefers that her influence shell fall gently on those around her; for this her name will figure less in history and furnish less food for romance than for merly. A sentiment purely feminine , leads her to regard home as the legi timate sphere of action, and the pure morals of her children as her greatest crown of jlory. Washington, when in the youth of his renown, enjoying the highest honors within the gift of his country, ascribed his ruccess to the teachings of his mo’her, and to | the good influence thrown around him when a boy. Home is, or ought to be, a place too pure and sacred for boisterous revelry. The young man, unless he is lost to all sense of honor, never sullies the presence of his mother or sister with profane language or un gentlemanly bearing. The gentle influ ences that are thrown around us in our childhood’s home, will prove a shiela nguins: many temptation'. When care bts left its sigret upon the once radi ent brow of the wayward young man, he looks back to the time when he was cherished by a mother’s love and shielded by a father’s strong arm ; ho now recalls their holy teachings, and yielding to his re awakened better feel ings, he is saved. Homj should boa place where the best emotions of the heart are cultivated, and where the sweet face of innocent childhood greets us with a happy smile. So far ns it is in tt e power of parents, they should make home beautiful, “make it an Eden of beauty and gladness,” thus leading the thoughts of the infant mind from nature up to natures God. ‘ Make it a temple of holy revealing*, Andtove its bright angel with shadowing wings." It is sad to contemplete the many thousands of homes throughout our beautiful South whose household gods , are broken, and heorfti-stones made j desolate. The memory of what made 1 those places dear, will cheer the hearts J of the surviving occupants, and enable them to enjoy more perftctly a home in heaven. Earth prevents the eyeef mau no scene more fair than a hsppy home when all the Christian virtues are taught by precept and example. Over such, ang«la will pause in their mis sions of love and gace on them With admiration. When age has dimmed our eyes and paled the roses on our cheeks, we may adopt the sentiment of the follow ing lines, alluding to the influence of home, ’Twill like the Oder of each blossom, Live in onr hearts where'er we roam, As wheo we slept qp one fond bosom, And dwelt witbin our happy horns. Miss Florence L. Aldeuoff, Aldehoff t Institute, Dawson Ga, The nzAD of a Dead Man Tries to Speak.— A poor fellow was guiiotin- 1 ed here a few days after our arrival, j According to the custon his hoad and j body was given tQ the surgeons for the i advancement of science.’ An expert- 1 meet was tried with the head with a very interesting result. They injected ' into its arteries, fresh air and blood ta- ; kon from a dog, and shortly af the head > gave uumistakable signs of life. The ! color returned to the cheeks and lips, | the eyes open ad, the lips moved •&aif , attemdting vainly to speak, and the en tire face bore the resemblance of ac tive life. So soon as the operator ceas ed to inj ’ot tho life blood of the dog, the appcarynces of death rabidly sue- ■ cetded. It was earnestly held by the eminent surgical gentlemen in atten dance, that during the oboratjon the ‘ brain was in full and natural action, ! and that the lips tried to utter the last j thought wbish fonnd resting place in the mind of the condemned. Paris Correspondence Petersburg Ga zette. DAWSON, GA., FRIDAY, MAY 1~, 1867. THE VAHFIKE; Or Acted to the Lite. BY ALFRED HARKS. How delicious, after the crowd and bustle of the city, are the first few hours of a walking trip iu the country. My hea t had been moldy and lonely for a long time, until one sultry day in ••Sep tember I received a note from Mark barn, asking mo to take a holiday and visit him at his mother’s villa. I per suaded myself that I wus overworked and wanted rest, and determined to ttke Markham at his word. I sat down and wrote U o lines, telling him that I should walk down, starting that very night, and that he might expect me as soon as twenty rniies a day and a zigzag road would bring me. In ten minutes I put up a few things to send before me, packed a knapsack, and then shoul dred my traps and rushed from the hor rible gloom of my ehambors, and in an other hour found myself on a country road, doing my first stage in the moon light. I absolutely danoed with delight, it was so glorious to be free once more I was walking through a woody country and frit a pleasure I cannot a- scribe iu reminisccDsoes of childish terrors awak ened by tho strange forms that moon light showed among the trees. When I oame to a break in tho woods, I lean ed over a gate opening into meadows that stretched far away, all gleaming in the light which lends beauty, delioate but mysterious, and almost unearthly, to the most common objec's. As I lean ed, I listened; not a sound, except tb.- tiukling of a sheep bell; now aud then the bark of a dog, baying the moon, or a village churchbell striking the hour. But soon I saw, breaking over the horizon, dis'ant lightning, which worn cd me that a storm was approaching. I had still some miles to go before I could reach the end of my first stage, so I pressed on again. Before an hour had passed the wind had risen aid was swaying the tree tops overhead iu tte narrow arched lanes, and soon the moon was hidden, and 1 felt the firtt slow, heavy drops of rain. Half and; zzled at times by vivid flashes, and splashing through puddles already formed in the oart ruts, I hastened forward, but it was nearly miduight when, drenched to the skin, 1 reached the little town of It did not take me long to bunt up the market place and to find out the li:d L'on, wiiicb I knew to be the 1 est ion. It was not qui'e sreasy, however, to gain admittance ; but at last a sus -1 icious porter, after a parley from a win dow, leisurely d'seended, and having narrowly examined me, admitted my claim to a night’s ludgiug, and ret about showing me to a room. I tallowed him as he went along the passage, past rooms with their names painted over the doorways, uu stairs and aloug the gallery which 0 er'o ked the oouriyard. “You’ve got a theatre here then?” I said, as my eyes fell on a bill wafered to the wall. “Yes, sir,” said the porter. ‘-Yes sir, they do say a* how Miss Barry is a n uncommon good actress. Sho has only been here a week, and the oompany wont stop long, for there ain’t many people to fill a theayter, except the young chaps from G , likewise some gents from the university.” I stopped to look at the bill—a long, narrow document, which announced the appearauce of Miss Hurry in the “Thril ling melodrama of the the Vampire!’ I smiled as I read the bill, which not only set foith the performers’ names, but gave in a tew words the leading characteristic* of the personages of the drama. “Sir Grenville Llburne (he is a swar hy baronet, of ancient lineage, poor, but haughty, proud and revenge ful); MarsdeD, the Vampire!!! (a de mon who renews his life by diinking the blood of maidens.)” “That’s her father,” interposed the offic ous porter. “Isa (a lovely girl) “That’s true enough,” out in the por ter. “She’s fit for* better theayter nor this here. There’s a city manager com iDg down to-morrow on purpose to see her.’ 1 finished the bill, went into my room and takiug off my clothes, gave tho por ter particular instructions to have them well dried against the morning. But alone and in bed in the hugo room, only half lighted by the candle, left burning and flickering the gU6ts of wind which made their way to it, I found it impossi ble to sleep. There I lay, wide awake, listening to the thunder, which still muttered in tho distance, and to the wind, which seemed to gain fresh strength every now and then, as it came dashing fall against my windows. Then I watched the fl ckering shadows of the bed hangings, and fro-u that I fell to thinking of the playbills and oft ho hid eous subject of the play. As I lay turning in my huge bed. I confess that I wished tho town, the thea ter and its bill had been anywhere but in my road that night. At last, how ever, I got tired of turning over and ovor, and my candle dying out, after many fi'ful leaps, which startled mo not a little, I fell asleep. I awoke late, feeling heavy and oui of humor, aDd my temper was not at all improved by fiuding that tor the present there was no chance of getting further on my road. All above was one dull mass of clonds, from which the ruin stili poured in torrents. I breakfasted slow ly, wrote a fey letters rendered ncoessa ry by my abrupt departure, and then looked out into the market pl»ce at the puddles; when tired of this, I turned for consolation to he literary resources of the coffee-room, but fouud nothing worth reading. Utterly miserable—for my clothes, despite my injunction, had fctjien wretchedly dried—X had afire lit, and sat before it till the waiter came ’n to ask mo when I would dine. As din ner, carried to tho pitch of repletion, ap peared to bo the readiest means of ren dering mysolf impervious to meteorolog ical influences, I ordered a repast which taxed the resources of the Red Lion to to the utmost. I hud scarcely sat down to it when a carriage drove to tho door, and shot out a large man, who entered with much bustle and a loud tread. It was the “city manager” of whom the porter had told me. In him l was glad to recognize Potts (let mo veil his per ■ sonality under this discreet pseudonym), an enterprising lessee, known to me slightly through Markham, who had written for his theatre. Ho recollected me, and we dined together, fla con fi mod tho porter’s account of the object of his visit, and asked me to go with him to the theater. I accepted, for there was something intensely amusing to mo in the lively talk of the manager, his anecdotes and knowledge of the world. The rain had ceased, aod it was now a lovely afternoon, but still so wet unuer foot that I thought I would stop at It another night; so we sat over our wine—he talking, I listening and laughing—till it was time to be iff It was not the fact of the theatre be ing a wretched one that so much sur prised me, as that D——— should have one at a'l. Os ali the unhappy investments in brick and mortar which ha7e ever tome under my observation, that was deeideu ! y one ot the very wors\ Nevertheless, traveling com panies did occtsional y take it for a while, though I should not like to af firm thflt any of them ever got u livintr out of it. The performance had begun before our arrival, and it was with some diffi culty that we lound any one who would consent to take our money and admit us. The ill-lighted, emp y look of the house, with its tawdry decora tions, all faded and rnoldered, was wretched in the extreme. My atten tion was far too much occupied by tho chit-chat of Potts to alow of my noticing particularly what was passing on the stage; but the acting 1 knew was ludicrously bad, for it excited in us so much merriment that an irrup tion into our box of the L> pop u:ution was at one time threatened.— But alter a while appeared the young actrrss, whom Potts’ account had made me anxious to see. Ceitainly, 1 had rarely beheld more exquisito beau (y of face and figure, or more intelli gent ac in. Her dress, too, was sim pie, and even poor, yititgave evidence of a refined taste, w hich surprised me iu a girl so situated. Tho managerial eye of Potts saw her capabilities at a glance, and for a while our merriment was icstrained, only to be re awaken ed, however, by the eti'rance of the supposed vampire. “Her father ” said Potts; ‘ decayed gentleman, poor old fel ow; won’t let his daughter act without birr.” It required all my sym pathy to retrain from langhing out right at the absurd antics of the poor old man, who had to sacrifice many a prejudice before he cou’d consent to allow his daughter to employ her tal ents as a means of livelihood. I have almost forgotten the olot of the piece; but it was in tho filial act, if I recollect rightly, that the lovely girl was to become the vampire’s victim.— When the curtain rose, she was dis covered alone. After a short solilo quy she reclined on a couch, and the plot of the piece required the entrance of her father after a short pause. He came, and never to my dying day shall I forget the fearful impres sion caused hy his appearance. My professional studies had made me ac quainte 1 with all the fearful forms which death assumes; but the hue of the face which was before me l bad never met with. I had not dreamed that it was in the actor’s art to pro duce so awful an appearance, which seemed the result rather of the abso lute withdrawal of aU color—l hardly know how to express my meaning— than the production of any external application. No words of mine could describe the terror of tiis deejJy sun ken, heavy eyes, and his stealthy, nois less tread. A habit of observation, which had become a second nature to me, compelled me for an instant to withdraw my gaze from the ghastly figure stealing a ong the stage, and to glance round the theater. The effect of the apparition was ap palling. Children, wild with terror, eluDg to their mothers, scarcely less terrified than they ; while strong men hid their faces in their hands. I look ed at Potts, the cool man of the world. His sell possession prevented him from betraying what the firmly set mouth told me he could not wholly suppress. Every sound io the theater was hush ed, and it was amid a silence as that of death, in which I could bear the rapid beating of iny own heart, that the vairq ire sto eto tho couch of the recumbent girl. What vague f rebod ing deepened the terror with wbioh I watched his up; roach to the girl, I know not; but I felt that to turn my bead for an instant, or to open my lips, would be utterly impossible. I would have given woilds for tho power to cry out; but every musclo was powerless, as if under tho domina tion of a speli, and my gaze was fixed uncontrollab y on the actor, as he beDt his head toward the neck of tho seem ingly sleeping girl. An instant later, and with a cry like tha. of a death stricken creature, she sprang from the couch, totteied toward the footlights, and fell huddled together on the stage. Had she, too, become suddenly en dowed with some wondrous fuculiy which gave to the acting of a novice a pow-'r beyond that of the high 0.-t at tainments of art 7 The reality of her fearful cry, the mann, r of her fall, and a dark pool under her head told a dis ferent tale. Released, I krew not how from the fascination which had held mo a moment before, I leapt from my seat, clambered over the footlights, and ru'sed the girl’s hoad on my knee. A gush in her small delicate throat shcwetl that all was too real. Potts’ had followed me; with his uid I car ried tho girl into a dressing-room where I gave her all the assistance in my power. “Her father !” I said to on actor, who followed us ; “where is he? he must not escape ” The man rushed out of the room, but returned a few minutes later to tell me that he had found the girl’s father lying utterly unconscious on the floor of his dressing room His man ner terrified me. “What do you mean ?” I said “It was not he !” he whispered in a hoarse voice; ‘he had not finished dressing for the part !” “Shut tile stage-door,” I auid. “Is there any way besides of leaving the theater from the stage ?” “None.” “But we were too late; before the alarm was giver., the other had gone out, with a handherekief to his face. ***••• * I have little to add to my story The girl’s beauty, her gentleness and intelligence had awakened in me a strung feeling of interest, and I willing ly gave up my holiday to pass it at her bedside. I was in love with the girl whom a strange and awful fate had thrown in my path. I tended her with all my skill, and when I was com pelled to return, and to leave her to other care, it was arranged that I should eve'y day have news of her; and that us soon as she could possibly bear ’.he removal she should te brought to London. A recovery from her wound seemed possible, when she was attacked by fits of such a charac ter, that their continuance, I knew, would be fatal. It would be too pain ful for me to dwell cn the agony of these attacks, during which tho recol lection of that ghastly fa te was always prisent to her. A month after I left her 1 learned with bitter grief that all was over. My abscence spared me a terrible shock she died raving mad in a lunatic asylum. A rigid inquiry left no doubt on my mind of the father’s complete inno cence. His a count was, that w hile dressing in his room he happened to turn toward the door, when he saw before him a figure dressed in all re spects as he was to have been, but with a face so awful that he fell sense less He recollected nothing more till on his recovery, ho found persons standing by him. The most careful investigation tended to corroborate this statement, but failed to produce any other evidence. From the first I had refused to believe iu the father’s guilt, aud after the death of his daugh ter I was instrumental in procuring him employmeni in the city. In the hope < f finding some clue to the mys tery of that awful night I had him con stantly watched ; every step he took was dogged, a 1 his actions were recor ded, but nothing to alter my opinion was discovered. I did not require this confirmation ; I knew how ho had lov ed his daughter; knew how his life was bound up in hers; I noted his im patience at the slow approach of death, and it was with a feeling of self re proach, which the sense of a duty ful filled could not stifle, thut I followed him to his gravo< From the Brooklyn Eagle. Waterfalls— The Cregurinc Question. Woman, notwithstanding her weak ness for waterfalls, is to he trusted. But I notice that storekeepers who trust her generally send their bills in to husbands. This ought to be an insult to the sex, and when women vote I hope they will have spirit enough to resontitand make it a misdemeanor punishable with the eocfiscatioß of the debt. Speaking of waterfalls, do you be lieve the story about the “gregarines 7” Or is it the invention of a scientific enemy 7 Not having a microsoope in tho house, I examined Eliza Jam’s water fall through an opera glass, but was un able to disoover any animate objects. I then tried animal instinct, end placed the wa'erfall before our dog Cic ero, who, as l have already informed you, is a pup of much canine sagacity. He seized upon the waterfall with fe rocity, and the way he made the hair fly was a caution to insects. If there were any gegarine around they must have been asten'shed. Eliza Jane was wroth when she dis covered the wreck The experiment cost me seventy five cents for anew waterfall, and Cieero got a licking for his share in the experi* ment. The ladies are not to be scared out of their waterfalls by any such scientific nonsense. But they have changed their base, and wear the waterfalls on the top of their heads cow, balancing their hat on the top of their nose. By and by the waterfall advances, tho ladies will wear their hats under their chirs. Which is none of onr business. Yours, festively, Court O'Lanus. A Yankee and a Southerner wore playing poker on a steam boat “1 haven't seen an ace for some time ” remarked tho Southerner “Web, I guess you hain'-t,” said the | Yankee, “but I eon te ! l you where they are. One cf th m is up your ' shirt sleeve there, and the other* ar»•» the ton nt ■— l .. ...y UOO 8. TVo. 17. Tlie Incognita. I remcmler one night going to a masked ball given at the theatre during the Curnival. During the evening a young and apparently elegant worn; n oame toward *me, attired in a domino and mask, and putting her arm within mine, aoaosted me thas : “ The signer has not found her whom his eyes sock.’’ Now I was seeking no one in partic ular, so inferred that I was not speaking to any one acquainted with me and I replied, “Tho signora oau jest nt my disappointment; docs she wish it Da J ’’ “Disappointment belongs to most men who trust women; to all who trust men. ’ “The signora,’’ I urged, “is too young and lovely to have discoved that her- Belf ’’ “I have not complained; the heart is silent on its own sorrows, signor Cap itano.” I was only a lieutenant, hut the Tsea did not displease me. “Bignora, if it were in my power you should never have reoson to fe. 1 sad,” I answ, red Aud so this light badinage continued for st.mc little time. J besought her to tell me who she was, or to unmask ; but this she declined to do, and iD return told me so many little matters üboat myself and my daily habits, that loould not imtigiue how she oould possibly have learned them, aud became thoroughly intrigue. As she was very obdurate, I wished her adieu, when she pr mised that if I would stay until the conclusion of the ball, she would unmask. For want of something elso to do, and also, perhaps, from curiosity, I stayed, and about three in the morning I posted myself at ike door to watch the people as they left, and soon espied my incog - nita. She wsdkcd up to me with a u.oßt coquettish air, raised her mask, and dis closed the not unoourtly visage of—my washerwoman. She was childishly di verted at her sucocss iD playing me i ff— much more than I was myself. Remedies for Prisons —Cases cf poisoning often occur in which life might be saved, and hours of agouy averted, if we only knew what to do in season. If a poison burns the throat and acts violently opoa the stomach, swollaw a half pint of sweet oil, or melted batter or lard, and within five minutes take half pint of warm water in which has been stirred a tcaspoouful of ground mustard and salt. The oil arrests the action of the poison, and the mustard, etc., oauses vomiting. If the poison swallowt and docs not bum the thtoat and act with instant violence but causes sickn ss, slupor or faintness, swallow the whits of thtee eggs, ils i a quantity of the strongest cuffee it b pos sible to make, and in a few minutes take the warm water and mustard and salt, 89 before mentioned. An eminent phy sician says that with tho prompt use of oil, and white of eggs and strong coffee, and the emetic as above direeted, the fatal results of any poison likely to fall iD the way of man or child, may be Al ways averted. The remedies am iD themselves, harmle s, and might all bo ta<:en into the stomach at once in any quantity, without damage to the system; and they are things that we always have at hand. But while using these things, don’t fail to send fora physician. And above all, and first of all, don’t have any poison around. An Incident —The Pioyune relates the following: But while this eagerness to beoome voters is manifested by a great many, still there are others who ominously shake their heads anddroliDe participa ting in public affaire. It is often very mousing to listen to their conversations, hc.d at street corners. Yesterday even ing a buDch of colored men got into a warm discussion at the corner of Oaron delet and Lafayette streets. One or two wore earnestly endeavoring to persuade the others to “pitch in” and register. A tall, gaunt looking negro, with a white wash brush iu his ' and, positive ly deol-ired he would not. That be knowed how “niggers” were ; he bad bein on the plantation. A negro “dri ver” when begot a whip in his hand, was always worse than the white over seer. The speaker got hot on the sub joot; said be knew the “nigger’’ in the city, and he didn't want them to boss him ; he wanted them to stay just where they belooge 1, aid not to be putting on airs; if the niggers “got a bos-ing'* bim, he was gwine to leave—emigrate —instaD'er. Ihe maj >rity setmoi to agree with tho tali darkey, and the crowd di-persed, our whitewash friend moving down tho street by himself but still shaking his bead and earnestly gesticulating, Beautiful Answer,—A pupil of the Abbe Sicprd gave the following ex traordinry answer: ‘What is gratitude 7’ ‘Gratitude is the memory of tho heart.’ ‘What is hope 7’ ‘Hope is the blossom of happiness.’ ‘W hat is the and ffcrcnce between hope and desire 7’ ‘Desire is a tree io loaf, hope is a tree in flower, and enjoyment is a tree in frui'. ‘Wbat is eternity 7, ‘A day without yesterday nr to-mor row—« line that has no end ?’ ‘What is time 7’ 'A line that has two ends—a path whieh begins iu the cradle and ends in the tomb.’ ‘What is God ?’ ‘The neocssary being, the sum of eter nity, the machinest of nature, the eye of justice, the watch maker of the uni verse, the soul of tho world.’ ‘Does God reason 7’ ‘Man reasons beoause he doubts, he I he deoi<t<— “- * vi 0 is omnie i cent.; He never doubts —He therefore never reasons,’ Fan, Fact anti Fancy. Mi cry loves company, and so dot* n marriugenb'e young Inly. A negro preacher once observed fa his henrers at the close of his sermon as follows: “My obstinulous bradren. I find it no more use to pi each to yon dun it is for a grasshopp er te wew ’nee bin kluss ” A promiscuous appetite—a Western editor says he want* “grain, pork, tef row, candles, whiskey, beeswax, Knen, wood, and everything else tbet be can eat ” A brother editor 'ells us that whew he was in prison ft>r libelling a justice of the pence, be wns requested by the jailor to give the prison a puff. An affected singer at a concert the other night, was told by a wag m the audience “to come out from behind hie nose and sing like other people.” A burglar on being pursued, solilo quized, ‘hang it! if I’m caught with these spoons, I will have to go to Con* gress.’ A YVestoi n paper strikes the namee of two subscribers from its list becausw they were hung. The publisher, says he was compelled to lie severe because he did not know their preeent address. A young lady hrd her “c*p set’’’ for a rather large “feller,” but fuit'ed to win him, whi n a confidant tried to con. sole her with the words, “Never mind', Mollie, there is cs good fish in the sew us ever was caught ” “Mollie knows that,” replied her brother, “but shw wants a whale ” At a church where there was a call fur a minister, two candidates appear ed whose namee were Adam and Lowe. The latter preached an ele— gont discourse from the text—“ Adam where art thou.” In the atternoon, jAdnm preached from these words, “Lo, here am I.” A female seminary at Salt Lake city was recently broken up by the princi pal marrying the whole school. The preliminary work has begun nt Ilunsboro, Mississippi, for the erec tion of a cotton and wool factory there. “Pray excuse a bit of sarcasm,” said Smith to Jones, ‘ Pray pardon a touch of irony,” replied Jones, and knocked him down with a poker. In what circumstance is a wotnaa that wears stays? In straightened circumstances. Said a young fellow indignantly called a boy—“ Don’t you cad me u boy, I’ve chewed tobacco ttieso six years.” Prentice says, G«’n. Butler is a stir ring fel.ow and makes stirring speech es. He is said to be posses.-cr of a great deal of stirring material—lots of it. Take off your bat, cried a judge to an Amazun in a riding dress. “I’m a lady, ’ was the rep'y. “Then lam no judge,” said his lordship. Captain James L Moseley, of the Quitman Banner has established a night school for negroes in that town. How ro Relieve Cuoked Cattlk. I have fattened many oaltle on potatoes, (says a aorrespondent) and always feed tbeui whole, and occasionally one gets choked. I then put the animal in a yard, where there are bars, which I let down, so that she can jump over, bnt as high as she can jump. I then place her -bout two rods from the bars, with her head toward them, and with a good whip, well applied, I run her over the bars on the jump, and when she touchea the ground on the opposite ssde, the po. tatoo will fly out of her mouth. I have informod my neighbors of this remedy, many of whom have tried it, and in no case have I known a failure. I must pity that young man who, with little finery of dress and reckless ness of manner, with bis coarse passions alt daguerotyped upon his face, goes whooping through the streets driving an animal muoh nobler than himself, or swagging ioto some bants of show and calls it 'eDjoying life.’ He thinks ho is astonishing the world I and he is astonishing the thinkidg portion of it, who are astonished that he is not aston ished at nimself For look at that com pound of flesh aDd impndenoe, end say if on all this earth there is is anything more pitiable ! He knows nothing of the true joy of life ! As well say that 'be beauty and immensity of the uni-*, vese were all eoolosed in the field wber» the prodigal lay among the husks and the swine ! [Chapin. A man long noted for intemperate habits was induced by the ltev. John Abbot to sign the pledge in his own way,’ wbioh he did in these words: ‘I pledge myself to drink no intoxicating drinks for one year.’ Few believed he could keep it; but, near the end of the year, he agaiu appeared at a tempo anco meeting, without once having touohed a drop. ‘Are you going to sign again V ask ed Mr. Abbot ‘Yes,’ replied he, 'if I can do it iu my own way,’ and accordingly he sign ed the pledge tor nine hundred and nine'y one years, ‘and if,’ said he ‘L live to that time, I intend to take out » life lea«e.’ , A few days aft r he called on th» tavern keeper, who welcomed him book to his old haunt. ‘Oh, landlord,’ said ho, as if in pair, ‘I have suob a lump on my side 1* ‘That’s b< cause you* have sto’pped drinking,’ said the landlord, Yor a WOQ | live long if you keep on.’ . ‘Will drink tako the lump away T ‘Yes, and if you don’t diink, you'll 1 ,, soon have a lump on the other side.. Come, let us drink together,’ and h* poured out two glasses of whiskey. ‘I reckon I wen’t drink,’ said thw former inebriate, ‘eppooi*B' jccplng | the pledge will bring anohter lumrvjkw it isn t very hard to better al |V w4 with ibid be drew *»• ’ ~ * . 1 „e lump—a roll of : greenbacks— l'rom his side pooket.and 1 walked vff, leaving the landlord to b»» ’ reflection?.