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JUtuson cKitfckln Journal, Published Every Friday, E. & J. E. GHUISTIAN EDITORS AND PUBLISHERS. TEUJHS—Str Icily in .Idranee. Three months *1 00 Six months $2 00 One year....... 00 Hates of .idvertialng t One dollar per square of ten lines for the flrst Insertion, and Seventy-flea Cents per square for each subsequent Insertion, not ex ceeding three. 4 One square three months | 8 00 »ne square six months 11l 00 One square one year SO 00 Two squares three months 12 00 Two squares si { months 18 00 Two squares one year 80 00 Fourth of a column three moths 30 00 Fourth of a column six months 50 00 Half column three moths 85 00 Half column six mouths 7o 00 Oue column three months 70 00 One column six months 100 <)0 Jo’> W’orti of pvery description ere emf»d*ifh and dispatch, at moderate UOfL & SJfWSViQNS, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, ' j D.flf’SO.V, - - GllontiM. 'I. C. ItOTt,. j mitsi V. R. t. SIMMONS. I C. B. WOOTEN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, “ly DfI'WSOTI. fia. J. P. ALLEN, f WATCH AND HEPAIKKB JEWELEB. Dawson, Gra., rS prop ire J to and» any work in his line in th« very hef»t ptyk, feb23 ts j. sjiith, CiTJJST SMITH and Machinist, IM IFiO.r. : .* Georgia. R- P UfB all kinds of Gun#, Pi-dots, Sewing llaiihic**, etc., et«. * v, » W. C- PARKS, Attornov at Law. MtuS 1 v ».l ll'SO.r.ll.*- C. W. W ARWICK, a! Late and Solicitor in Equity. ri.VIT2II'ICZ.E - - - \\TlVti prse.tlee in L?",''Sumter, Terrell vV knd Wfls er. j, E. HIGGINBOTHAM, ATlOftlCr ATI- hW, •Maryan, Calhoun Cos., Cla., Wilt pmotio* in all the Courts of the South western and Pa atilaOi’cui s. June I UlffSOV HOTEL BY WILY JOi'iES fIIUE Proprivtor Ins neatly Cited up the | Uiarspn Hotel, and u prepared to make Yus customers taUefied with both Care and C.odging Connected wirti the Fletm is a ii ll.S££ MtOli.VS,” i:i wkiclt is kept the hist ii ■qsoia in lire city. N r .. oj'iis sill he snared In nlenne. fr22ftm paimimtf raamui JAS. M- DODWELL, H USE AND [SIGN PAIKTIiB, &<• DAWSON, G A-, IS prepared to do all woTk in his line—such as house and sign painting, graining, pa per hanging &c., in the very best, style, and on short notice, at reasonable prices, febl.flm. MILLS HOUSE. turner Queen dfc Heeling Sirs., CHARLESTON, S. C. THIS First. Class ITot;1 has been thoroughly repaired, refitted and refurnished through oat and is now rea iv for the accommodation of the Traveling Public whose patronage is reap -ct.full v solicited. C- aches always in readiness to convey Passengers to and from the Hotel. - The Proprietor promises to do everything in his power (or the fnnift.it of guests. | J OSEIM ,P URC E L L, feb22.tr ' TVrptie BROWN HOUSE, la. E. HKOYViI & SOI, Fourth St., Opposite Passenger Depot, .ft aeon . Georgia. ITtROM the Ist of July the business of this . House will be conducted by E. E. 3towu & Son, the Senior having associated his sou, Win. F. Brown, in the management and in terest of the Hotel. The house contains sixty rooms, which are reserved chiefly for the use of travellers and transient quests. Competent assistants have been ses cureu in every department, and eve ry attention will be p.rid to ensure comfort . ,' *r customers. Rooms clean and airy, and tlte table aUv.J* ?n ' ) P Ued country affords. Fen ..'" s “ * “ b 2g - e departure of all trains to c { s'rect to and conduct passengers across Uk their quarters. juH27,tf LKttOV lIKOH .V, TIIOS. H. BTI A a UT. : BROWN & STEWART, "Ware House and COnnASIOI ' ITIJUItCH ANTS, at Sharp & Brown's old stand, D.f H’ift.V GEO/IGI•!. W« are determined to use our utmost en deavors to give entire satisfaction to all who may favor us with their pitronage I 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) just and grliable friends. That we may be better ena bled to carry out this design, we have secured •a business agent, t.he well known and reliable Capl. John A. Fulton. “A ju*t balance,’’ is our motto. .March 8 1867. W. R. & N. M. THORNTON Practical JYentists, jjwi irso.v, ft./. - w Office in Harden’s new building, West Side, Depot Street. Dec. 14 , THE DAWSON JOURNAL Vol. 11. , POETRY. Who is My Neighbor t This touching little piece, fays one of our exchanges, has been floating about for many years, and is occasionally cast upon tbe shore of newspaperdom. It is worthy of preserva tion, and may well be laid to heart in this too bitter minded day. Thv neighbor * It is he whom thou Hast power to aid and bless ) Wltese aching heart or burning brow Thy soothing baud may press I Thy neighbor ? 'Tis the fairwing poor Whose eye with want is dim, Whom hunger sends frfmi door to door— Go thou and tUccor him ! Thy neighbor f ’Tis that weary man, Whoso years are at their brim, Cent, low with sickness, cares and pain— Go thou and comfort him 1 Thy neighbor ? 'Tis the heart bereft Os every earthly gem , Widow and orphan, helpless left— Go thou and shelter them! Thv neighbor ! Yonder toiling slave, Fetter’d iti thought and limb, Whose hopes are all beyond the grave— Go thou and ransom him I When’er thou meet'st a human form, Loss favor’d than thine own, Remember 't's thy neighbor worm, Thy brother or thy sob. Oh, pass not, pass noi her dices by ! Perhaps thou canst ledeem The breaking heart from misery Ga, share thy lot with him. MISCELLANEOUS. TH KILL IN« iDVENTIBE Tbe following thrilling sketch is from tin English Magazine: “Father will have done the great chimney to-night won’t he mother?” said little Tommy Howard, as he stood waiting for his father's breakfast, which he carried to him at his work every morning. ‘ If o said that he hoped all the seaf foldSmr would be down to-night,” an swered '.he mother, “and that’ll he a tine sight; for I never liked the ending of those great chimneys; it is so risky for father to be the ins; up.” •Eh then, but ITI go and seek him and help cm to give a .‘-bout afore ho comes down,” said Tom. “And tli, n,” continued the mother, ‘if all goes < n right weagre to have a fiolio to morrow; and go into tbeeoun try atiii take our dinners, and spent! all the day - n the woods.” “Hutiili I” cited T in as he rur. off to ids fa hers place of w ork \vi h a can of milk m one hand and sound . bread in the other. Ilis mother stood in the h.or, w atching him as hfi w ent merrily whistling dowo the street, ami she thought of the dear father he was go ing to, and the dangerous work he -w is engaged in; and then her heart sought ils etnv refuge, and she prayed to God to protect and b'esa her treasures. Tom with a light heart pursued his I way to his father, and leaving him 1 is j breakfast, went to 1 is own work, wh'ch |was at some distance. In the evening on his way borne, he went around to see how his father was getting on. James Howard, the father, and a number of other gentlemen, had been bn lding one of those lofty chimneys, which in one of our great manu'actu turing towns almost supply tbe place ot other architectural beauty. The chimney was of the highest and most tapering that had ever been elected, and as Tom shaded his eyes from the slanting rays of the setting sun, looked up in a search of his father, his heart .almost sank within him at the appal ing height. The scaffold was alirnst down; the men at the bottom were re moving the last beams and polos.— Tom’s father stood alone at the top. Ho then looked around to see that everything was right, and then waving his hat in ti e air, the men below, an swering him with a long loud cheer, lit tie Tom shouting as loud as any of them. As their voices died awny, however, they heard n different sound, a cry of alarm and horror from above. “1 be rope ! the rope 1” The »-*-m looked around, and coiled upon the ground, lav the rope, which before the senftbid ing was removed, should have been fas'ened to the chimney, lor Tom’s father f.o come down by ! The scaffold ing had been taken down without re membering to take the rope up. They all knew it impossible to throw the rope up high enough to reach the top of the chimney, or if it could, it would hardly be safe. They stood in silent dismay, unable to give any help or think of any means of safety- And Tom's father. He walked round the little circle and the dizzy heignt seemed more and more fearful, an J the solid earth further from him. In the suJ rleD lost his r r f ß ' ence of mind, a;.” 1 »•« B f ns f u * a,!e . d r h'm. He shu. his eydT; < '‘ t | '* the next moment lie must od dasbeu to pieces on the groun I be ow. The day passed as industriously ns usual with Tom's mother at home She was always busily employed for her husband and children in some way or other, and to day she had been har der at work than usual, getting ready for the holiday to-morrow, fthe had just finished her arrangements, and her thoughts were silently thanking God for the happy home, and for all the blessings of lile, when Tom ran in. Ilis face was as white as ashes, and ho could hardly get his words out: — “Mother! mother! he cannot g-d down ” “Who, lad? thy father ?” asked the mother.” DAWSON, GA., FRIDAI, JULY r>, 1867. “They have forgotten to leave him the rope,” answered Tom, still scarce ly able to speak. The mother started up, horror struck, and stood for a mo ment as if paralyzed, then pressing her hands over her face a<if to shut out the terriole picture and breathing a pray er to God fur help, she rushed out of the house. When she reached the place where her husband was at work, n crowd gathered around the foot of the ohim ney, and stood quite helpless, and gaz ing up with faces full of sorrow. “lie says he’ll throw himself down.” “The munna do that, lad,” cried the wife with a clear hopeful voice; “thee munna do thaL Wait a bit. Take off thy stocking lad, and unravel it, and let down the thread with a bit of mor ter. Dost thou hear me, Jem ?” The man n.ude a sign of assent; for it seemed ns il ne could not speak— and taking oft his stocking, unraveled the worsted yarn, row after row —- The people stood around in breathless silence and suspense, wondering what Tom's mother could bo thinking of; uud why she sent him in such haste for the carpenter’s bull of twine. “Let down one end of the thread with a bit of st ne, and keep fast hold of the other,” cried she to her hus band. The little thread came waving down the tall chimney, blown hither and thither by the wind, but it reach ed the out-stretched hands that were waiting it. Tom he’d the ball of twine, while his mother tied one end of it to the worsted thread. “Now pull it slowly,” cried she to her husband .and she gradually un wound the string until in reach of her and husband. ‘Now hold the string fust pull it up,” cried she, and the string grew heavy and hard to pull, for Tom and his mother had fastened a thick rope to it. They watched it gradually and slowly uncoiling from the groULd as the string was drawn higher. There was but one coil left It had reached the top. “Thank God, thank God !” oxo aimed the wife. She hid her face in her hands in si ent prayer, and tremblingly rejoiced. 'Tbe iron to which it should bo fastened, was there ail right—hut would her hus band be able to make use of it! Would not thu terror t f the past hour so have unnerved him as t« prevent him from taking the necessary measures for his safety ? She did not know '.lie magi cal influence which her few words had exercised over him Stie did not know the strength that the sound of her voice, so calm and steadfast had tilled him with—ns if the little thread that carried him the hope of lift once more and ninwyed to tun some porti nos that faith in God which Ro bing ever destroyed or shook in ht r pure heart, bMio did hot know th-t as si a waited , there, tbe words came'vver him, “Why ’ art thou cast down, Omy sou!, why art riot! disquieted within me ? hope thou in God.” f he lifted her heart to God for hope tied strength tut could do nothing more for tier Lusland, and her heart turnei to God and reeled on him as <m a rock. 1 There was a great shout, “lie's f afe mother, hVs safe !’ cried little Torn. “Thou hast saved ttiv 1 fe. my Mary,” said ter husband, f lding her in his arms. “But what ails the? thou seem est more sorry than glad about it.— But Mary could not speak, and if the strong arm had not held her up, she would have lallen to tbe ground—the sudden joy after such great fear had overcome her. “Tom, let thy mother lean on thy shoulder,” said his father and we will take her home ” And in their happy home they pour ed forth thanks to God lor his g eat goodness, and their happy life togeth er felt deartr and holier for the peril it had been in, annd the nearness the danger bad brought them unto God And the holiday nest day—was it not indeed a thanksgiving day. Power of an Axe.— The other day I was holding a naan by the Laud—a haud as firm in its outer texture as leather, aud bis sunburnt face was as in flexible as parchment. ; he was pouring forth a tirade of contempt on those who complain that they get nothing to do, as an excuse for becoming idle loaf ers Said I—'Jeff whs* do vou work at ? ‘Why,’said he‘l bought me an axe three years ago, that cist me Iwn dol lars That was all the money I bed. I went to chopping wood by the cord. I have done nothing else, and have earn ed more than six hundred dollars, drank no grog, paid no doctor, and have bought me a little farm in tbe Horsier State, and shall be married next week to a girl who has earned two hundred dollars siuce she was eighteen. My j old axe I shall keep, in the drawer, and buy me anew one to cut wood with. After I hit him I thought to myself, “that axe and no grog.’ These are the tbingß that make a man in the world.! llow small a capital that axe—bow sure of success with tbe motto, ‘No | grog’ Aud then a fa m and a wife, the best of all. A colored witness was examined in a Washington city court to prove the identity of a white man the other day District Attorney —‘Did you see tho man ?’ ‘Yes, sir, I seed him ’ ‘Was he a white man ?’ ‘D d’t know, sir.’ ‘Do you tell me that you saw the man, and cannot say whether he was white or black V’ ‘Yes, sir, I seed him, but dur is so niany white fellers calling and mselbs nig gets round here, I can’t till one from toder.’ Witness dismissed—oxp'anntion sat isfactory. Strata item. “lie's a dear darling, clumsy old bookworm,’ slid Clara Lennox, cutting t ho dead loaves off her pet geraneum with a pair of tiny scissors ; ‘but as for marrying Charlie Penn, why, 1 should as soon think of marrying the big book case or the piano, or any other solid, substantial piece of furniture 1’ ‘Then why do you encourage him and flirt with him, and rceeivo attention from him ?’ asked Sybil Waite, indig nantly. ‘Why? Oh, because—’ Sybil replied; ‘Clara, you’re a ciquettc, and I think yon deserve to live and die an old mai l, if you trifle with the feeling-of such a noble young mac as Charlie Penn.’ Hut Clara made no answer but went on with her scissors, si aging some mer ry air to herself, while the warm sun shine, falling full on her blue eyes, turned them into fills of liquid light. Yes, Clara Leuuux was very pretty, and she knew it; and so, alas ! did Char lie Penn. Ifow the saucy little beauty torment ed the faithful truehearted fellow 1 som.'timrs she rained sweet words und sweeter smiles upon him—sometimes she would hardly notice him—and, sometimes, again, her cold, ceremoni ous dignity would chill him to the very heart. And through it all he hoped at.d trusted on, as men will no. ‘lt’s too bad, Charlie,’ said Sybil, who was Charlie’s cousin and faithful ally ; ‘1 wouldn’t bear it a minute longer!’ ‘Yes,’raid Mr. Peun, sorrowfully; ‘but suppose y<u couldn’t help your self? Imagine that all your happiness depended on a girls fancy—as—as mine does ? ‘Are you realiy as far gone as that Charlie?’ said Sybil, pityingly. ’I am,’ sail honest Charlie. ‘Sybil, dear ! if I or,!p knew whetber cr not she cared fur me 1’ ‘l’il ascertain that Charles,’ said Sy bil, nodding her bead significantly. ‘How ?’ ‘Ah ! what an absurd questi. n to ask ! How ean I tell how ? Only—l It do i; 1 Promise uie one tiling,-Charlie. Don’t see Clara un and I give you permission.’ ‘I promise,’ said Charlie, looking very much puzz’td, and a little amused. ‘How long is it likely to be?’ ‘Well,’said Sybil, thoughtfully, ‘uot very long.’ And she tripped away, full of sly lit tle plots, plans and machinations. Clara was busy making some attract ive kind of head-dress out of some j iuk ribbons and artificial pink buds, one blight June evening, a firtle subs< quent ly, when Miss Sybil Waite w s an nounced ‘Clara,’ said Miss Waite, mis. erious- I ly, ‘l’vo s mo news ter you !’» | ‘News ? \\ hat ?’ SsiJ C'ara, rather ! abstractedly, putting her head on one I side to contemplate tht effect of her work. I 'Oar Cbarlieis going to be mirri ltd!’ Clara loi ked up suddenly. ‘lVhat ! Charlie Putin ?’ ‘Why, to la sure—wL ui clso.cou'ld I mean V ‘Married !’ Tho rosy glow was C'mlng and g ing unconsciously on Clara's cheek. Sac laid down her work. ■Married ? And to.whom ?’ ‘Oh, that’s a tecrct—Charles- must tell yiu that himself? Are you not glad,- Clara ?’ ‘ Y—yss very glad 1’ But Clara Lennox spoke slowly, and her lip quivered a little. She did not look so much rejoiced alter all. Syhi watched htr fair lace with a keen, clb servaut glance. ‘You see,’ said bil, ‘I thought yon would like to kuoW, because you and Charlie were such old frionds.’ ‘Yus, to be ture,’ sai<i Clara, aud the pink lihbous slipped unheeded to the floor, while Clara leati.d her cheek on her baud and looked dreamingly at the far- iway sunset. Sybil arose to go, and Clara started from berreverte. But Miss Waite was satisfied with the result of her inqui ries, and no persuasion could indues her to stay longer. Clara went back to her seat in tbe sunset loneliness to think aud—to cry ! For Clara Lennox wa* very low spirit ed, and wished to find out the secret of her own passionate, impulsive little heart. ‘Clara !’ Miss Lennox da -he-. the drops away f,om htr cheek with a quick motion— she had not beard the lumiliar footsteps ou tbe threshold. ‘Mr. Penn!’ • She did not say ‘Charlie,’ as she had been wont to do ‘You have been crying, Clara: may I ask you why V ‘I don’t know why,’said Clara, tell ing a deliberate ftlseaood. ‘i suppose because I felt lonesome—and—’ She paused abruptly lure. ‘Clara,’said Charh- gently, ‘I have something to sty to you to-night.’ •h’gsomething,’ thovght Oluri, her heart beginning to beat hurriedly ‘1 wonder who she is? 1 know —1 know 1 shall hate her !’ ‘Can you guess what it is ?’ ‘Yes,’said Clara passionately, ‘I know what it is ; you ale iu luve !’ And the tears burs: firth—she hid tier face in her bands. ‘Dear Clara, will you give me a word cf hope ? will you prornhe one day to be mine ?’ ‘l!’ repeated Clara, looking up, with sudden agitation, ‘C’ji, Charlie, is it me ?* /' ‘Whom else c im> it be, dearest ? You have always bu u first aud dearest to uiy heart. Answer me, Clara—toll ' me yes.’ | Aud Clara’s 'yes’ was almost inauda ble through her bobs; yet, she was very haprji too. ‘I tuld you I could fiud ou*,’ said Sy bil, looking very wise, when Charlie Penn name back exultant to tell her that (Lara Lennox was to be bis wife in August. Sybil's stratagem had proved Sue ee.asful. Ki'otluir Crawford’s Sermon. A Southern exchange gives this as the first of anew minister in a villago in that section, lie begun apolegeticly as fellow:: “You don’t see mo to-day in tbe the dress I al’ers wear; I otme among you as a stranger and am now tricked outiuniy storo clothes. lam not. n preud man, but I thought it would‘be more becoming among strungers.’ Afrer this bo r used a 1 ymn, in which the congregation joined, lie then be gan Lis sermon ; My dear brethreu aud sisters, first and forern ist, I’m guine to tel! you ilie affecting partin’ I had with my congre gation at Billie) Chapel. After I had got through with my farewell sermon as I come dowu outen tho pulpit, the old gray headed brethren and sisters who listened to my voice twenty years, crowded round me with sobbing voices and traiful eyes, said—Farewell, broth er Crawford ! As I walked dowu the aisle, the young ladies, tricked out in their finery, br:.ss jcwalry, gegaws, jimcracks, paint and flounces, looking up with their bright eyes, and prnounced with their rosy lips— Crawford ! The young Win their tight patent loathe' - boots, hieh collars aud da.-by waist-coats—smelling of pomatum and cigar smoke—with shanghai coats, and striped zebra pants they, too, said— Far well, boother Crawford ! The little children—lambs in the fold—l.ftcd up their tiny hands and small voices, aud with ime accord, said —Farewell, brother Crawford ! The col >rod brethren of the congrega tion now catno forwaid (tila. k sheep who had beeu admitted to the fold un der my ministry.) with tears rolling dowu their sable check, they, too, said —Farewell, brother Crowford ! As I got ou my hoi so and bado adieu to my congregation forever—l turned to take a !a:;t look at. the ehurh where l had preached morc’u twenty yearr—and ns Ig: Zid at its dilapidated walls and moss, covered—it, too, seemed to say— Farewell, brother C awford ! Asl roiie to rough tho vil age the people who poked their heads outen the win-, ders, and the servants who leant on their brooms, all seemed to say—Fare well, brother Crawford^ As I passed along down “the high way through the forest, the wind as it sighed and whistled through the tree tops, playing on the leaves and branch ihe burden of salvation, it, too, seemed to say —Farewell, brother Craw ford. Crossing a little creek that was gurg. ling and singing over its pebbly bed, as it rejoiced cu its way to the great ocean cf eternity, it, too, seemed to say— Farewell, brother Crawford ! As I rode along dowu a hot, dusty laDe, an old sow that was asleep in a fence corner, jumping out of a sudden with a loud brqo-top, bron-too, she, too, seemed tosay Farewell, brother Craw ford ! My horse got frightened and jumped from under me, and as he curled Lis tail over his back kicked up his heels and running i ff, he, too, seemed to say Farewell, brother Crawforo ! A Hard Hit at Home Guards During the last stages of the war, whilst tbe Ouufedcrutu army was retreating through ijjuth Carolina, tsargiant Me D , of Western North Carolina, was sent on'detail to the town of M—, where a regim Dt of home guards were stationed. These valoious h-rjes, seeing a soldi.r from the front, gathered t round him, eagerly inquiring the news. ‘News’ said Maek, tolemnry, ‘I believe there is none. Y’es, there is a little too, Dot it is of not much importauce ; old il-rdee burut up a regiment of home guards at Florence the other day, to keep them from falling into the enemy’s hands. Mack walked, coolly in, and no more questions were esked. Wholesomeness of Atti.es. —Raw, mellow apple are digested iu an hour and a hair, while boiled cabbage re quires five hours. The most healthful desert tliatcau be pi; ced on tho table is a baked apj k\ lfca'cn frequently at breakfast, with course bread aud butter, without meat or flesh ot any kind, it has an admirable tff -ct on the general system, often remov ing constipation, correcting acidities and cooling off febrile codditions more effectually than the most approved med icines Liebig says they prevent debil ity strengthen digestion, correct the putrifiiotion tendencies of nitrogenous food, avert scurvy and probably main tain and strengthen the power of pr u duo tivc labor. Pifm.—Tho following are the charges tor newspaper puffs, which we find in ain del Florida journal : » For a modest puff, 3 juleps; a toler ably good one, 1 box cigars; a gooei one, 2 pair boots ; a very-good ooe, 1 vest and two sbiits; a splendid one, a cloth coat; a perfect sockdolager, a whole suit. Three dogs in the neighborhood of KentOD, Ohio, a few days ago, killed forty sheep, worth from §4 to $5 per head, To test the guilt of or-ethe dogs, he was taken into a doctor's ofliee, chlo roform administered, an opcing made in his stomioU, examined. Wool be ing foun 1, they ooucladod not to sow him up agaiD. No tune, it is said, is so popular, yet »o hard to catch, as fortune. No. 'i i. itlieirilt Coffins o|:eis<-<i. Tbe trustees of the old stono burial ground in Cranston, Rhode Island, have recently removed the remains of throe of their aneesters to that place—Job Stone, his first wife Hannah Barnes, and bis second wife, Abigail Foster. The bones were in an entira state of preservation. The man had been bu ried one huudred and seven years, tho first wifo some hundred aud fifty four years, and tho second wife one hun dred an I s'x years. Hannah B trues, buried 171'2, was a little girl at die decease of II g r IV 11 ms, and died between thirty and forty yeats of ago, and yet tho skeleton was as sound and perfect as if cleaned aud kept in a case ; the hair al.se, braided, wound up in a coil, was soimd and a« p< rfect as on th day on which she laid down to sleep, al though one hundred and fifty years of summer and winter have passed sway slucc that, hair was braided and coiled in sorrowing kindness on the head where most c fit still rC3ts. Iler de scendants arc and have been more than ; two thousand ; more than half that num ber are nt\v living These b dies wore bulled from five aud a half to six foe deep, ou a small ridge of land near a branch of the Bachassct river, the bot tom of tho g some seven or eight feet above tho level of tho branch, in bluish sandy cloy. —Providence Journal | Norllierii or Suffrage. Sumner proposed to extend Negro Suffrage, bv Congressional enactment, over tbe Northern us well us the Southern Stutes. Within the Inst few years, several of the Northern Stutes have voted on the question. — The following are the resu’u:- • At the first Presidential election in which Lincoln whs n candidate for Ex eeutive honors, (18<i0) New York gave it majority against tho proposition of 140,481 ! Lincoln’s majority at tbe same election was 60,116 ! No Lin coln organ Jior Lincoln voter advocat ed tbe proporit on The open ndvo cates wire the crazy Abby Kelly ites. Connecticut, 18G5, at a special elee tion, voted on tho same qu stion ; and, by a majority of G 272 repudiated niongre’ism at tbe ballot box. The majority tor tl < Radical candidate for Governor nt the spring elution was over 11 000 1 "Wisconsin, tho same year, rejected Negro Suffrage by 0,000 —giving at the same time, 10,000 majority for the radical Gubernatorial candidate. Minnesota also refused to sanction Ntgro Suffrage by 2,513 majority; al though cbosing a radical Governor by a majority <>t 3,476. Colorado—voting on a piroposed Constdutifin the same full—rejected, by a vote of 7 to 1, the degrading pro position. It will, therefoie, be seen that the men who, in these instances, defeated Negro Suffrage were Republicans.— It wus the work of this “great party of freedom ” Were they right, or wrong then? If wrong then, ire they right now ? Ties, too, is the great “party of prifie'p’e.”— [Starke County (i) ) Democrat. Tiik Giri.s to the You mo Men The literary department of the luka (Miss ) Minor is edited by four your g ladies. Their last number conttrim ! tho following paragraph, which ex- | her s the young muu to “depend on 1 hims'lf.” “Most young men consider it a mis- ’ fortune to be born poor, or not to I have capital tnottgh to establish them- j selves at their outset of life iu a good and comfortable business. This is a mistaken not on. Po fur Irom poverty ; being a misfortune to them, if we may judge from what we dai y behold, it j is a b’essing; the chances are more than ten to one against him who S'arts with a fortune. Most rich men’s sons . die in poverty, while many poor men's ] sons come to wealth and honor. It is a blessing, instead of a eurso, to have to work out their own fortune.” Not Yjt—‘My son give me thine heart. ‘Nuttct,’ said the little boy, ss be 1 was busy with his top and ball, ‘when I grow older I will think about it.’ . • The bnygrrw to boa yonng roan,| ‘Not yet,’ said the young man. ‘I am now about to efiter trade ; when I seo ; my husiuess prosper, then I shall have ; more time than now ’ Business did prosper; 'my children; must Lave my care ; when they are set- ! tied in life, I shall he better able to 1 attend to religion.’ lie lived to boa grey-headed old man. ‘Not yet,’ still ; he cried ; I shall soon retiro from trade, ] and then I shall have nothing else to do but to read and pray.’ And so be died. He put off to anelh I er time, what should havo been done when a child Ho lived without God. and died without hope. Curious History —Fivo centuries : ago, in Mexico, Cortez, holding the commission ot Charles V., the head of thut great Imperial house, from which j Maximilian himself is descended, p>utj tho lust of tho Montezumaa to death J Five centuries roll away, end the In-; tlian I’resident, Jaurez, puts to death, j in the same country, the most promi nent and -.eocndaut of ILo house of Charles Y. Nover bo so rude as to say to a man: “There is a door?’ but ssv, “Elevate your golgotha to tho summit of your pericranium, and allow me to present to your ooculat* demonstration that sci entific piece of mechatrcism w hich con stitutes the cg r ess portion of this apart meat ” Mill, FACT, AND FANCY. ______ a What ii better th in a promising young ratiu? A p»)ing one, “Th false,’ as tho girl Slid when her lover t<ild li f tint* she had beautiful Lair. Wlial a prior world this would bo if it had no wnrncn and newspapers in it. How would the news get around ? Mem people—the men who kick pec* pie when down, and a subscriber who refuses to pay for his paper. “Good blood will always show itself,’ as the old inly said when she was struck by tbe rcducss of her nose. • Almost every young lady is public spirited enough to have her lather s bouse used as a oourt-bousc. “Plonso exchange.” said our print- 1 er's devil, when ho kissed his sweet he apt Saliio. Why is the Expedient Churn like al Cutterpjllar? Because it makes the butter jl//. Social GirJon'ng—Weeding your acquaintance, and cutting your intimate friends. It'a man marry a shrew, we are to suppose he is shrewd ‘Mr Jon- ?, have you got a match ?’ “Yes, sir, a match for the devil; — there she is mixing up dough.” Jo!i>*m pointed to his wife and then “slid” for the front down the road, hotly pursued by a red Leaded lady with it cistern polo. Poor Jones ! An old Dutchman untettook to wal lop his soti; Juko turned the tables and walloped biro. The old man enn so'ed himself f r his defeat by ing at iiis son’s superior manhood.— Ho said: “Veil, Jake is u tarn sell mart fellow. lie can whip his own tuduy.” The following epitaph is said to bo on a tomb stone in Upper Georgia: To all my friends who come this way, A few kind words I wish to say— Hnonld any of you drink old rye, Think of me as you pass by. ’ An editor in Marshall, Illinois, has bee m ■ s i bollow from depending upon iLo printing bu-ioess alone fr bread, that he proposes to sell himself for s'ove pipes at three cents a Lot. Quin told a lady that sho looked blooming as spring, but, rccollootmg that tho season was not then very prom ising, lie added : ‘Wool! to heaven tbe spriDg woull look like you.’ In a concert recently, the conclusion us the s mg, ‘Th- re’s a good time com j ing,’ a country fanner got up,aud cx- I claimed : ‘Mister, you couldn’t fix tb« I time, could you V J ish Hidings truthfully remarks that ‘trying to livo on the reputation of a dead grandfather is just about as enter s rising as trying to hatch out rotten eggs under a tin weathercock. Now that ‘tilling hoops’ are going I out tff fashion, let one thing be said in i their favor—the wearers of them were I never liable to arrest for‘Laving no vik ! ible means for support.’ A pood sort of a man in Maine was recently a-dod to sub.cribc for a cbandl Jier fir the cliufch. “Now,” said lie, “what’s the use es a chandelier? After yougot it you can't get any one to play on it. Mrs l’aringfon, said she did not mar rv her second husband because she lpv ed thu mala sex, but just because he was the size of her first and could wear out liis old clothes. The I> iston Post says strawborries sell at a (porter of a dollar a smell. Is that a scent b piece ? Nfk" I'oor, to a Fcwb.'-—“Mr. Brown,’’said a little boy to a gcntle mnn who was calling on his “which is yrur nex'-door neighbor ?” “Mr. Jones, my and; ar,” replied the visitor.” “Isn’t he a very silly man, sir?'* a.-k* cd the child. ' •#* ‘■No, my dear : Mr. Jones is a sensi ble man ru .u«h.” “Oh, I don’t think he is,’* persisted the boy, “for I heard mane rib say to papa 'hat you were the next door to a fool!” . Aiivicr. to Doctors.— Have yoti heard of the Bowery boy, who being cut short in a bard life by a sore disease which quickly brought him to death’s door, .-.as informed by bis physiciau thaa med cine cou'd do nothing For him. “Wh-t’s my chances doctor V “Notw r.h speaking oV “One in twenty 11’ “Ob, n«.” ‘ Im thirty ?” “N i.” ‘ Fifty r “I think nob” “A hundred “Well ncrLaps there may be on? in It bundle’.” “I say, then, doctor,” pulling 1 :a> and wn, »'nd whispering wi'h feeble ear j estnes in his ear, ‘ just go in like all thur dcr cn that chance.” Tbc d'.'Ctor “went in” and the patient recovered. Tnr. way to Fflect Fr.oCß.—First look to fi e color j if it is white, with a yellowish or straw tint, buy it. If it is very v.hite, with a bluish cust, or with specks in it, refuse it. Second, examine its adhesiveness; wet ard knead a little of it between ynuv fi- gers ; if it works soft and : sticky, it i* poor. mmf-t-f. Tht.u, throw a littla lump of dry Amur against a smooth surface; irit falls itko powder, it is bad. Further, squeeze seme of tie flour in your hand ;it it retains the shape giv en by the pressure, that, too, is a good sign. Flour that will stand these tests, it is safe to buy. " , ’ These modes are given by eld flour dealers, ar<l they pertain to a matter that concerns everybody—the stall of , life. „ ~4 ~