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About The Dawson journal. (Dawson, Ga.) 1866-1868 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 19, 1867)
(iuirckln gounml, PuMshed Every Thursday 13y Elam Christian. r \ vi^t - TE D.WiSlrlclly in advance. Three months 7 ® lWc= ::::^0 '®” mrW+<i YAd rcrttsiny : One dollar per square of len lilies lor the drat insertion, ami Seventy-live Cents per square tor each subsequent insertion, notex tflfifaifcire three months .••! 8 00 e^* r 8 *'* " ,ont * lS " 00 do fi 'iir#s t.hiee months 1- On mouths 18 00 Two squares one year 30 00 Fourth of a column three moths 30 00 Konrth of a column six months 50 00 Half column th|&:e moths 45 00 Half column six months 70 00 One column three months 70 00 One column six months 100 0U Liberal Deductions JHade on .£ioMU’(*ct * Advertisements. IVMaTIBn - *•*7_ Legal Advertising. %ale«, per levy, $2 60 “Wbrlftaße Fi Fa Snips per square...... 6 00 Citations for Letters of Administration, 3 00 <* “ “ Guardianship,. 3 00 •*fc»ASbu from Apministration, 6 00 “ “ Guardianship, 4 00 Application-for leave to sell laud, 600 Sales aftAni, per square, 6 00 Sales trf Perishable Property per squ’r, 8 00 Notices to Debtors and Creditors,.... 3 60 Foreclosure • of Mortgage, per square, 2 00 JEstray Notices, thirty days, 4 00 Job tt 'ork of every description exe i ilntedwith neatness and dispatch, at moderate "+»*. ? RAIL-ROAD GUIDE. vi ? ... Railroad. *|{f M ! ? * W r ffjf. HOLT, Pref. | VIRGIL POWERS, Sup V ' ' Leaves Macon 8 A-«■; arrives »t Eu faula 6 30, P M ; Leaves EufauU 7 20, A H , Arrives at Macon 4 50, P M. ALHANY BRANCH. Leaves Smithville 1 46, P M ; Arrives at Atbany S 11, P M ; Leaves Albany 9 35, A M; Arrives at Smithville 11, A M. »< mar on & Western Ilailroad. NA. J. WHITE, President. t. B. WALKER, Superintendent. DAY PASSENGER TRAIN. Loaves Macon . . . 1 A ’’Airlve. at Atlanta . . . 1571 .M. UaVeS Atlanta . . . * “ Arrives at Macon . . . 180 P. M. NIGHT TRAIN. Leaves Macon • 8 V . Arrives «l Atlanta . . • * A- J• Leaves Adlnta ... 8 10 I * Arrivea at Macon . • • 1 20A. j) . WTuHteru & Atlantic ltailroad. CAMPBELL WALLACE, Sup’t. bay Passenger train. ,at,n.c Atlanta . • • 8 o' u ”£Uve Daltot 2.*u P * Arrive at Chattanooga . • Leave Chattanooga . • *• * Arrive at Atlanta . . • 12.05i.J-. night train. < Leave -Atlanta . . • 700 v *■ Arrive at Chattanooga . • 4.1" A. 11. Leave Cl-at'anonga . . 430 I’. « Arrive at Dalton . . . 7 oil P. M Arrive at Atlanta . . • 141 A. I*. S6M*iufSs (Sards. ~08. W..H. HODHETT rpENDF-US his Professional services to the X citieens of Dawson and its vicinity. Of fice at Dr. Cheatham’s Drug S ore. Resi deace— late residence of Mis. Chamberlain, on Depot street. nov'22 i>7-tf drTjThTj ohnson, Physician A’ Surgeon, Dawson, - - Georgia. tS* Office at Smith & Williams’ Hoarding Reuse. uoVii’CTtiui ATTORNEYS AT LAW, »jf rt'so.y, - - tiizoKtiM. •WVaIVW . v s. hotl. jjn2slr. h. y. simmosb, C. B. WOOTEN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, 21y Dawson, G a. W. 0. PARKS J M. WATSON. PARKS & WATSON, Attorneys at Law, DAW SO* - ' - - - «A. STL AT witch and “* ftEPAIRER Jjjfcgjgt JEWELER. Dawson, Ga., f. Tg prepared to do aoy work in his line in X the very beet style. feb2B ts J. gTsTsSitii, OUIST SMITH and Machinist, •• •• Oeorgia. Repairs all kinds of Guns, Tistols, Sewing Alanines, etc., etc. 2 D- C. W. WARWICK* •dttorney at Laic and Solicitor and ‘ in Equity. MMETHPILLE - - - CEO., \VT£LL P r,,cl >ce in Lee, Sumter, Terrell ▼ w «Lud Webster. J7~e. Higginbotham, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Morgan, Calhoun Cos., Oa., Will practice in all the Courts of the South eastern and PaLaulaCircuits, June 1 HARNESS I REPAIR SHIiP *#T PM.VVLS' STJULES, pawsuu, ... <.eiir-i;i, CAAN furnish *he public wiih Cariiag" J Trinnninir, II irncss Mounting, &e. All work promptly done for the cash. uov22'673iu HARRIS Dii.NXARD. THE DAWSON JOURNAL Yol. 11. POI-TIJY. By »ml lly. To a coming by and hy Joy shall gladdon you and I, Tears be wiped from many an eye, In the coming by and by. Oh despair not, weary one, Ere your day of life is done, Ere your race is fully run, Joy shall gild life’s waning sun. Every life some pleasure knows, Ere the years draw to a close ; Joy shall blossom like the rose, Each shall find some sweet repose. ’Tis a saying old, yet right. That the blackest, darkest night Darkest is to mortal sight, Just before the morning light. Is your heart okircaßt with woe ? Pass the hours of life too slow ? Tears like rain though they should flow Will but make life’s flowers grow. Winter comes before ’tis spring, Spring ere summer birds can sing, ISnrno on quick and rapid wing Present grief bright joys shall bring. There’s a sometime by and by, Coming both for you and I, Rainbow, like Hope, spans the sky ! Clouds of gloom shall quickly fly ; Joy shall bloom where sorrows die. Augustus Treadwell Racy Tines. “Life is but a span of hoses ; One is “Age” the other “Prime,” Up and down the hill our course is ; ‘Go in,’ ponis—‘make your time.’ “Boyhood plies the whip of pleasure ; Youthful folly gives a ptroke ; Manhood goads them at his leisure— ‘Let ’em rip, they’re tough as oak-’ ‘Hi, ha, there ; the stake we’ll pocket, To the winds let eare be sent ; Time, 2.4o—“whip in socket: ‘Give ’em string and let ’em went. ‘On the sunny road to fifty, ‘Prime is drowned in Lethe’s stream ; ‘Age’ is left, old, unthrifty ; Like them proves a one horse team. ‘Age’ jogs on, grows quite unsteady, Reals and slackens in bis pace ; ‘Kicks the bucket, always ready; ‘Give it up’—Dea'h wins the race.” jwmwuK'cc-.naEvr'c ifc- mwwxssmemmiuattjmmfi MISCELLANEOUS. TUL OL.B> SOLOIlit:. T have often occasion to pass thro’ a village on the St Alban’s loud, at one end of which there is so tidy and conveni tit a public house, that 1 al ways give ri.y horse his bait there, if 1 happened to be traveling in my gig. 1 had frequently observed an old soldier who, having lost an eye, a leg, and an arm, in the service of his country, had pretty well earned the privilege of idling away the rest of his life in a matner par icularly congenial with the habits of one of his calling Ho wotlLl sit on a beech outside the door of this inn, with apijein his mouth, and a can of beer by iiis side; and thus he would pass all the fine months of the year. In winter, he merely changed his seat. lie was con stant to his pipe and can ; he took both with him to the warm chimney-corner —and thus he enjoyed his out-pen sion. During the hour of baiting, I have often talked to this old man He had served lust in the early part of the war on the Peninsu'a lie was lo quacious enough on other subjects; but if one questioned him concerning those last military services, he became on the instant morose, and uncommu nicative, and one could not but per cieve that the topic was disagreeable and painful to him. W hat most interested me about this man was his love for little chbdren.— He was generally sur rounded by a par i el of curly headed urchins ; and often have I seen the mistress of the little inn consign her infant to the protec tion of his one arm, when, by an irri val, she has been called upon to atteud to the business of the houso. The old fellow never appeared so contented as when thus employed. His pipe was laid aside, his beer forgot'en, and he Would only think of amusing and carressing his charge, or cf lulling it to sle-p. The bigger children would cluster round him, clamber ovei him, empty his pipe, *ip set his can, take all sorts of liberties with him, jet never meet with a re buke. At times, however, ho would appear lost in uneasy thought; gazing with earnestnes upon the features of the sleeping infant, while tears would course down his cheeks. As 1 drove one morning up to the door of the inn, and passed the bench on which the old soldier was, as usual, sitting, with his lit le flock of children ploying around him, one of them, a very young one, suddenly backed into the road, and in another moment more would have been crushed ; but the old man sprang forward ; with a vigorous and wonderful effort he seized the child with his only arm, and ti rew i j several feet out of the way of danger; ’he fell with the exertion, and was among my horse’s feet. In suddenly drawing up, I had un willingly done my very worst by the poor leilow ; for 1 had caused the ani mal to trample upon him a second time, and a wheel had likewise passed over his body lie was taken tip ii,sensible. We carried him to a bed, and alter a lift e tune fie recovered his recollection.— Hut he was so severely injured, that we feared every moment would be his last. DAWSON, GA., TIIUIISDAY, DECEMBER 11>, ISG7. The first words the old man uttered were : “The child 1 the child 1” We assured him that the child was safe; hut fie would not believe us, and it became necessary to send to the vil lage to search for the little creature, who had'been hurried homo with the others upon the confusion that the ac cident had occasioned. He continued to call for the child, and was in the greatest distress of mind till wo had lound it, and had ta ken it to him as he lay. llis delight at seeing it alive and unhurt was in tense ; he wept, he laughed, fie hug ged it to Ids bosom, and it was not till fie grew very faint and weary, that he would suffer us to remove it. A surgeon arrived and pronounced that the poor man was so much hurt, inwardly as well as outwardly, that nothing could be done to save him ; and desired us merely to give him cordials or cooling drink, as tie should appear to wish for either, lie lingered for a few days. I fiad been the cause, though inno cently, of the poor fellow'’s death. Os course I took care that all was done that could alleviate bis sufferings ; and as long as he lasted I went every day to pass a few hours oy his bedside. — The rescued child, too, was brought to see him each day, by bis own de sire.’ From the moment he bad been calm and contented. He knew he was dy ing, but he could part with life with out regret—and ihe cloud which I had so often observe 1 upon his weather beaten countenance before the accident never after returned. The day before he died, as I was watching alone by his side, lie asked me for a cordial. Soon after he had swallowed it, he laid his hand upon my arm and said : “Sir, if you will not think it' too great a trouble to listen to an old man’s talk I think it will ease my mind to say a few words to you ” He was, of course, encouraged to proceed. “I die contented —bap; ior than I have for some years lived. I nave had a load upon my heart which is not quite removed, bu. it is a great deal lightened I have been the means, under Providence, of saving a young child’s life. If I have strength to tell you what I wish, sir, you will under stand the joy that blessed thought has been to my heart.” I gave him another cordial, and he spoke as follows; “It. was in a stirring time ihe Duke of Wellington’s wars after the French had retreated through Portugal, and Hadajoz had fallen, and we had d.iven them fairly over the Spanish frontier, the light division was ordered on a lew of their long leagues further, to occu py a line of posts among the moun tains wh'ch rise over toe northern banks of the Guadiana A few com panies of our regiment advanced to occupy a village w hich the French had just abandoned. “We had a brisk march over a scorched and rugged country, which had alieudy been ransacked of all that could have supplied us with lresli pro visions; it was many days since we had heard the creak of a commissary’s wagon, and we hud been on very short commons. “There was no reason to expect much in the village w e were now ordered to The French, who had just marched out, would, of course, have helped themselves to whatever was portable, and must have previously drained the piaffe. We made a search, however, judgingtliut, possibly,something might have been concealed from them by the peasants ; and we actually eoon dis covered sevetal houses where skins of wine had been hid. “A soldier, sir, I take it, after hot service or fatigue, seldom thinks of much beyond the comfort of drinking to excess; and I freely own that our small party soon caused a sad scene of confusion. ‘ Every house and hovel was search ed, and many a poor fe'low who had contrived to hide his last skin of wine from his enemies, was obliged to aban don it to his allies. You might see the poor natives on al. sides running away ; some with a morsel of food, others with a skin of wine in their arms and followed by the menaces and stag gering steps of the weary and half drunken soldiers ‘Wine, wine !’ was the cry in every part of the village. An English sol dier, sir, may t>e for months together in a foreign land, and have a pride in not knowing how to ask for anything but liquor. I was no better than the rest. “ Wine !’ said I to a poor half starved and ragged native, who was stealing c tl, and hiding something under his torn cloak. “I have none !’ he cried, ns he broke from my grasp, and ran quick and fearfully away. “ ‘Wine !’ ‘give me wine !’ said l to him. “‘I have none !’ he repeated. “I had already drawn my bayonet. lam ashamed, sir, to gay, that we used to do ti at to terrify the poor crea tures, and make them the sooner give us their liquor. As I held him by the collat with one hand, .1 pointed the bayonet to his breast with the o her, and I cried: •“Wine !’ “ ‘l have none ! —it is not wine !’— and ho spoke the words with such a look of truth and earnestnes, that had I not fancied I could trace tbrou sh the folds ol tis cloak the very shape ot a small wine skin, I should have be lieved biin. “ ‘Lyiug raseal!’ said I, ‘so you won’t give me the liquor? Then tho dry earth shall drink it !’ and I stuck the I point of my bayonet deep into that which ho was still hugging to his breast. “Oh. sir! it was not wine that trickled down—it was blood, warm blood!—and a piteous wail went like a chill acios.- iny heart! The poor Spauiard opened his cloak ; he pointed to his wounded child; and his wild eyo asked mo plain er than words could have done, “Mon ster! are you satisfied?’ “Tbo littlo boy had fastened his small, clammy hands round a finger of each of us. He looked at us alternate ly; and seemed to ask, from his father and his murderer, that help which it was beyond the power of one of earth to give. The change in the poor child’s countenance showed that it had few min utes to live. Sometimes it lay so still, I thought the last pang was over; when a slight convulsion would agitate itß frame, and a momentary pressure of i’s little hands would give the gasping fath er a short, vaiu ray of hope. You may believe, sir, that an old soldier, who has only been able to keep his own life at the expense of an ey# and two of his limbs—who has lingered out many a weary day in a camp hospital after a hot engagement—must have learnt (o look on death without, any unnecessary con cern. I have sometimes wished for it myself; and often have fell thankful when my poor wounded comrades have been released by it‘ from pain. I have seen it, too, in other shapes. I have seen the death blow dealt, when its ef fects have been so instant that the brave heart’s blood has been ppilt, and tho pulses have ceased to beat, while the streak of life and health was still fresh upon the cheek—when a pmile has re mained upon the lips of my brother soldier, even after be bad fallen a corpse across my path. But, oh ! sir, what is all this compared with what I suffered as I watched life ebb slowly from the wound which I had myself so wantonly inflicted in the breast of a helpless, in nocent child! It was by mistake—by acc.deot. Oh, yes ! I know it, I know it well. and day aud night I have striven to forgot that hour. Hut it is of no use: the cruel recollection never leaves my mind—that piteous wail is ever in my ears 1 The father’s agony will fol low me to the grave !’’ Great l>og FigUt in Frogtown. Thsre is an excellent moral to tho fol lowing story, which is told with great skill. It shows us how a whole village is sometimes torn to pieces by a tight between two puppies. The most remai hrhlc story on record came ell at Frogtown on the frontier of Maine, some years ago. It engrossed the entire c -umm-.ity iu one iadiscrimi tata u.c!cc—mtermidible lawsuits or suits at law, distractiou of the town and it. downfall o r iuiu. A fanciful g.-nius, named Joe Tuck er, a man about- town, a louog. r with out visible means of support, a do-noih irg, loafing, cigar-rmokii.g. good natur cd fellow, owned a pre'-ty, beast, always ot Jo-’a heels, and known as well as his master, aud irked far hotter by the Fiog towuers. One day Joe and Lis dog were pass ing Bunion’s grocery store, wheu a pie bald, ugly looking deg, standing along side a wood wagon, hounded into Joe Tucker’s dog, knocked Lin heels over head, and so frightened Bob Carter’s wife, who was pasiing towards her hus band’s blacksmith shop with Lis dinner, that she tumbled, and her old sun bon net flipped elf aud scared tho horse at tached to the wagou. He started, hit Laitherum’s barber pole, upset tho load of wood, all of which falling down Gambo’s rifreshmeut cellar struck one o! Gambo’s children on the head, kill ing it for a short time stone dead, and frijihtoued Mrs. Ganffio that she let fall a jrew pan of boiling hot oysters into her customer’s lap, who sat waiting for the savory conco- tion by a table in a corner, instead of the dish. Mrs. Gam bo rushed for the child, the customer for the door. Mrs. Gambo screamed, the customer yelldd out. ‘Oh ! oh ! oh ohsoh, my potr child.’ ‘Eh, esh-e-c-c,’ screamed the poor cLild. ‘Ob, murder-r r ! Oh, my everlast ing sin, I’m scalded to ail eternity !' •Murder, murder !’ roared the custo mer. The horse, a part of Iho vrjgon, and some wood, were ou their mad career. The owner of the sirange dog came out of the store just m time to see JooTuck er size a rock to dom duh lire savage dog, and not waiting to soe Joe let drive gave him such a pop on the back that poor Joe fell for y feet up the street and striking a lerig ladder upon which Jrtn Ederby was perched, paint pot in hand, some fury feet above terra firm a, brought ladder, Jim and paint pot sprawling to the earth, crippling poor j Jim for life, and sprinkling blue paint j ever the broadcloths, satiucis and culi— i ooes of Abraham Miller, a formal and ’even letup, ivd Q raker, who ran out of the door ju-t as the two dog. 4 had got j fairly at it nip and thigh, nip and catch. J A glance at things sc wed to oouviuco (Abraham > f the true slate of the case, aud in au unusually clcv.tcd tor-e of voice, Abraham called out to Joe Tuck -1 er, who had righted up : j ‘Joseph Tucker, thy dog’s a fight i mg !’ t | ‘Let ’em fight it out,’ yelled the pug ! naoious owner of the “ranged g. ‘Let I eru fight it out. lii bet a h’g of wood * my dog can beat any d> g iu towu aud I can beat tho own< r,’ We have .-aid Abraham Miller was a q riet man ; Q rakers are proverbially so But the gauntlet turowu by the stranger from the country Hired the gall of Abraham, he rushed into the btorc, aud front tne back yard, having slipped Lis collar, Abraham brought forth a t rind.e cu;r, lew, and power io!. “Friend 1 ’ said the exoited Quaker, “thv and ig shall be well beaten, 1 prom ise thee. Hyko, ti. *e him !” “Turk, bore boy !’ Aud the dogs went at it. ’ Hob C'urter, tho smith coming up in time to hoar the stranger’s and. Banco to tho town, and bent, on a fight with some body for the damages of his wife, clam ped the collar of the stranger, and by a series of ten-pounds-ten upon the face, back, and sides of his bully antagonist, with his natural tledgo hammers, Bob stired up tho ire of the bully strangor to the top of bis oompass, and they made sparks fly dreadfully. Joe Tucker’s dog, reinforced by Abraham Miller’s, took a fresh start, and betweeu the two, the strange dog was being cruelly put to his stumps. — Deacon Pugh, one of the most pious and substantial men in Frogtown, came up, and indeed tho wholo town was assem bling, and Deacon Pugh armed with a heavy walking s'ick, and shocked at tho spectacle before him, marched up to the dogs, exclaiming as ho did sr ; ‘‘Fie, fie, f.r shame ! disgraceful! you mean citizens of Frogtowu, will you stand by and—” “Don’t thee, don’t thee strike my dog, D aeon Pugh,” cried Abraham Miller advaueiug toward the Deacon, who was about to cut right and Est with his cane. ‘Your dogs?’ shouted tho Deacon, with evident fervor. ‘Not my dogs Deacon Pugh,’ said the Quaker. ‘What did you say to for, thm ?’ said tho Deacon. ‘I never said they were my dogs, Deacon Pugh.’ ‘You did !' yelled the deacon. ‘Deacon Pugh, thee speaks ground less,’ sail the Quaker. ‘Y'ou tell a falsehood, Abraham Mil ler/ ‘Thee utter a mendacious assertion,’ reiterated Abraham. ‘You—you—you toll a lie!’ shouted the Deacon. ‘Thou hast provoked ray civil pas sion, Deacon Pugh,’ shouted tho stal wart Q inker, ‘and I will chastise thee.’ Aad into the Deacon’s hair went the Q inker. The Deacon, nothing loth, entered into the fight, and we leave them to nip and tuck,’ to look to the stranger, and Bob Carter, who fought and tit, and fit and fought until Squire Catcheu and the constat le came up, and in the at tempt to preserve peace and arrest the offenders, the Hquiie was thrust through the window of a neighboring watch maker, doing a heap of damage, which lawyer Hooker, iu attempting to aid the constable, was hit iu mistake by the fu rious blacksmith, in the ribs, and went reeling down Gambo’s cellar with fright ful velocity. The friends and fellow churchmen of Deacon I’ugL took rides against the Qrak.r antagonist, and thin the shop hoys of Abraham, seeing their employ er ibus beset, came to the rescue, while two Irishmen, full of fun aad frollic, believing it to be a ‘free fight,’ tried their Lands and sticks upon tho combat ants so iudiscrimintaely that in loss than Lallan hour the happy village of Frogtowu was shaken from its propriety hy one grand, sublimely rediculous and almost terrific battle. Heads aud windows were smashed ; children and women screamed; dogs barked; and so furious, mad, ard cxei i and btsanue the wholo community, that a quiet looker on, if there had bceu any would have declared that the evil ones were all iu Frogtown. A heavy thunder storm fi r ally put an cud to the row, tho dogs were more or less killed, a child severely wounded a man sttided, a wagon broke, the horea rau hitnidf to death, his owner badly beaten by Bob Carter, whose wife and the wives of many others wero danger ously scared, the painter, war crippled, dry goods ruined, a Quaker and a dea con, two Irishmen, lawyer Hooker, Squire Crtchcip, and some fifty others, shamefully whipped. Lawsuits ensued, feuds followed, aud the entire peace and good repute of Frogtown annihila ted —all by a remarkable dog fight. Kegrocs, Colored l*eoi»le, Etc. The phraza “colored people,” always used in the Jacobin, aud two often in the Democratic press, has no meaning in if. W o are all “colored people ’’ — Caucasian, Monglian, ote, as well as Af rican. Wo Caucasians, aro blonde, brunettes, etc., cto. AH “colored peo ple, some light, as the Saxons, somj dark as the Spaniards, with Moorish blood in their wins. Negroes are no more ‘colored people’ than wc Whites are. liut ‘a negro’ is a negro ,and nothing but a negro, and a negro man differs more from t white man, than a white man from a white woman. The negro has not any hair on his head—only wool; no brain, no head, nor mouth, nor chin, like a white man’s ; no shoul ders, legs, nor feet, u: r heels, nor shins, like while men’s—and iu other parts cl his anatomy, not lit for newspaper dis cussion, he differs in ail respects from a white man. Thus tho negro is a negro, and only a uegrs, admirable in Lis sphere of life, for which God made him, to bo the ser vant cf the white man—but odious and accursed, when, as in tbc South, he rides over the white man as Lis master A'’ w York Kxpress. “How often do you knead bread ?’’ asked one housekeeper of ano‘. her. How often ? Why, I might say wo need it continually,” replied the oth- I er. A H iker has invented anew kind jof yeast. It makes bread so light ! that a pound on’y weighs twelve oun ’cts No. -XT'. HOW PEHBLIIN ASIiED'ITIIE OI.I> MAT. ]IY JOHN QUILL. Peebles luid just asked Mr. Merri weather’s daughter if she would give him a lift out of bucholordotn ; aud she said “yes.” It therefore became ab solutely necessary lo get the old mans permission, so as Peebles said, that ar rangements might be made fur hopping the conjugal twig. Peebles said he and rather pop the interrogatory to all of old Men iweath <r s daughters, and bis sisters and his female cousin, and his aun' Hannah m the country, and the wholo of Ins fe male relations than to ask old Merri weather, But it had to be done, so ho sat down and studied out a speech which he was going to disgorge tc ol 1 Mer riweather the very first chance he got to shy it at him. 8o Peebles dropped in on him one Sunday evening, when all tho family meandered around lo class-meeting, and found him doing a sum in beer measure trying lo calcu late the exact number of quarts his in terior could hold without blowing the head off of him. “blow are von. Peel) ?” said old Mari weather, as Peebles walked in as white as a chunk of chain, and tremb ling as if lie had swallowed a condens ed earthquake. Peebles was afraid to answer, because be wasn’t sure about tbut speech. He knew he had to keep liis grip on it while he hud it there, or it would slip away from him quicker than an oiled eel through an auge>' hole So ho blurted right out: ‘Mr. Mernweather, sir : Perhaps it may not be unknown to you, sir, that during an extended period of some four or five years I have been busily engaged in the prosecution of a com- j mercial enterprise—” ‘-Is that so, and keepirr’ it a secret all the time, while I thought you was tending store Well, by George, you’re one of ’em, now ain’t you ?” said i the old man. Peebles had to begin all over nenin to get the run of it. “Mr. Mernweather, bir : Perhaps it may not he unkixrwn to you that dur ing a p riod of s me five years I hare been engaged in the prosecution of a commercial enterprise, with a deter urination to procure a sufficient main terrance ” “Hit down, I’eeb, and help yourself to beer. Don’t stand there holding your hat like a blind beggar w ith a paralysis What’s the matter with you anyway? I never see you be have yourself so bad in all my born d aV B ” .Peebles was knocked out of lime again, and had to wander back and take a fresh start. “Mr. Merriweather, sir: Tt may not be unknown to you that during a peri od of five years, I have been n the prosecution of a commercial enter prise, with the determination to pro mise a sufficient maintenace ” “A whitrii-nn<%?” asked old Merri weather; but Peebles held cm to the last word like it was his only ohunee, and went on. “Iu tho hope that some day I might enter wedlock, and bestow my eaithly possessions upon one whom I could call my own. I have been a lonely man, sir, and have felt that it was not good for a tnau to be loft alone, there fore ” “Neither is it, Feeb, and I’m all fired glad you dropped in. How’s the old man ?” “Mr. Merriweather, sir,” said Pee bles, in despairing confusion, raising his voice to a yell, “it may be unknown to you that during an extended period of lonely man, I hav® been engaged to enter wedlock, and to bestow nil my eornmircial enterprise upon one V.hom l could procure to boa determination, to be good for a sufficient possessions —no, I mean—that is—t h a t—Mr. Merriweutt er, sir. It may no; be un known ” “And then again it may. Look here Peeb, you’d better lay down, anj lake something warm, for you ain’t well.” Peebles sweating like a four year old colt, went in again. Mr. Merriweather, sir: It may not bo lonely for you to prosecute me whom you can ea Ia friend for a com mercial mnintennncA*, ’but—but—oh, dung it—Mr. Merriweather—sir—it—• is —” “Oh, Pueb’es, you talk as wild as a jackass. I never seed a more first class idiot in the whole course of rnv life. Wbut’s the matter w ith you, afty how “Wr. Mernweather, sir,” said Pee bles, iu an agony of despuir, “it may not bo unknown that you prosecuted a lonely man who is not good lor a com mercial period of wedh.ek felt for some five years—but ” here, Peebles, you’re drunk, and if you can’t behave better than that, you’d better leave. If you don’t Pli chuck you out, or I’m a Dutih man ” “Mr Merriweather, sir,” said Pee bles, frantic with despair, “it may not be unkunvn to you that my earthly possessions are engaged to enter wed lock five years witir a sufficiently lone ly man A Ito is not good lor a commer cial maintenance ” “Th. bloody <lu<x - e he isn’t. Now you jist git up and git, old hossq orl’ll knock what little brains out of you, you’ve got left.” ith that old Merriweather took Peebles by the shirt collar and the part of bis pants that wears out first, il he sirs down much, and thot him out into the street, as :i lie had just run against a locomotive going at-tlie rate of ibrtv Hides an hour. Btfcro old Merriweather b-d a chance to shut .he front door, Peublea collected his logs and on© thing and unotlicr that were lying around on the pavement and arranged himself in a vertical position, and then ho yelled out: “Mr Merriweathor, sir, it may not be unkhown to you v which mido the old man so wretched mad that ho went out and set a bull terrior on Peebles before he had a chance to raise a brogan, and there was a scien tific dog fight with odds in favor ol the dog, until they got to the fence, and even then Pebbles would’have carried bull terrior homo, griped like a olamp on his leg, if the meat hadn’t been so tender, and the dog fueling that some thing must eventually give W’ay, held on until he got his chop off of Peebles calf, and Peebles went home hulf a pound lighter, while Merriweather aa serts to this day that he had to draw all the dog’s teeth to get the flesh out his muir.ti, “for he had an awful holt for such a small animil ” Ol course Merri weather's daughter heard about i', and she was so mad that she never gave tiia old Han any peace until ho went around the next day to fee Peebles about it. Peebles looked as pale as a ghost from loss of | blood and beef, and tie had about a j yard and a half of muslin wrapped around his off leg, and Merriweather ' said: “Peeb, I’m sorroy about that muss j lust uignt,but if you didu’t behave like : a raving maniac, I'm a loafer. I never I seed such a deliberate ass since I was , born. W bat’s the meuniug ot it any way ?’’ “I was only tryin’ to ask you to let nie nlarry your daughter,” groaned i Peebles ■ “Great—vvliat?—hope you didu’t mean to say well, I hope l may be shot. \\ ell it you ain’t a regular old j wooden headsd idiot—l thought your mind whs wandering. Why didn’t you say it i igbt out ? Why; of course you can hqve her. I’m glad to get rid ot her. Take her, my boy go it, go it, and 1 11 throw a lot of first-class blessings info the bargain.” And Peebles loosed ruefully at his defective leg and wished he hadn’t been such a fool, but ho wont out and married the girl and lived happ'y with her for about two months, and at the end of that time, be told a confidential friend that ho would willingly tnko more trouble and undergo a million more dog- bi'es to get rid of her. YJih Wonders of Ancient Home. MoT rn writers, talfiug London and Paris far their measure of material civ ilizrtioo, total unwilling to admit that It ane could have reached such a pitch of glory and wealth, and power. To him who stands within tho narrow lim its ol the Furam, as it new appears, it seems incredible that it could have been the con.ro cf a much larger city than Europe can now boast of. Grave his torians are loth to compromise their dig nity nnd character tor truth by admit ting statements which seem to men of limited views to ho fabulous, and which transcend modern experience. Hut wo should reai rnber that most Gs the mon uments of Ancient Home Lave entirely disappeared. Nothing remains of tho palace of the Ciciars, which nearly cov ered the Palatine Hill; little of the Fo ra wLieh, connected together, covered a spice tv. ice as large as that inclosed by tho palaces of the Louvre and Tuil erittd with all their galleries and courts ; almost noth ng of tho glories of the Cap itoliue Ilill ; and little comparatively of those Thermae which were a mile iu circuit. But what does attests an nn parrthJed grandeur—the broken pillars of the Forum ; the lofty eolumos of Tra jan and marcus Aurilins ; the Panthe on, lifting its spacious dome 200 feet in tho air ; the mere vistihule of the baths of Agrippo ; the triumphal arches of Titus and Trajan and Constantine! the bridges which span the Tiber ; the aque ducts which the Campagna ; the Cloaca Maxima, which drained tho marshes and lake of the infant city; but above all the Collosseum. TVhat glory and shame are associated with that single edifice 1 That al me if nothing else re mained of pagan antiquity, would indi cate a grandeur and a folly such as can not now be seen on earth. It reveals a wonderful skill in masonry, and great architectural strength ; it shows the re sources and wealth of rulers who must have the treasures of the world at their command ; it indicates an eDormoas pop ulation since it would seat, all the male adults of the city of New York, it shows the r.stlcsß passion of people for excitement, and tl e necessity on the part cf the rulers of yielding to this taste. What leisure and indolence marked a city whiefi could afford to give up so niqck tiino to the demoralized >ports ! what facilities for transporta ti m were afforded, when so many wild beasts i ruld be brSught to the eapitol from tho central parts of Africa without oailiin; cut uuui-ual comment: how im perious a populace (bat compelled tho government to provide such expensive sports. Hours at Home. “I wonder w here those ciouds arc go. ing ?” sigh'd Flora, pensively, as sho pointed jwbh her Jelicato finger to tbo etvy ma s, i that floaied in the sky. •‘I think they arc going to thunder,’ said her brother. A'ner;ro was driving a mule in Ja maica, when the animal suddenly stop ped and refused to budge ‘Won’t you go, rb V said the boy. ‘Feel gran’, do you? 1 s’pose you forget your sadder was a jackass ’ ‘T think,'said a wilt, who eould net ncr«s v.itli her huebana, ‘[think, Mr. Jnuos, Wft had better dhiie tho bouso. \ ou shall live on one side and I on tho other.” ‘‘Very well, toy dear,’ replied the wretch, ‘you take tho ou'.slde and I’ll have the* inside.’ It needs no prophet to t*ll us that, a boy or girl or girl who refuses obedi ence to a kind parent will not be likely to make a good citizen or n gtod'Chris tiuu. An old bachelor say a the talk of w men is usually ab ut meu : tfea . e.r iu he ; he.
