Newspaper Page Text
Jjtoon twlcckln Journal,
Fubliflhed Every Thursdiy
B¥ PERRYMAN k CUBI&TIAN.
XL'K-TLS— Strictly in ./tf ranee.
Three months bO 76
Six months f 1
Ouo yesr.... W U(J
Hairs or.ithrrHshtfi i
One dollar per square of teu lines lor the
first insertion, and Seventy-five Cents per
square for each subsequent insertion, not ex
ceeding three.
One squaro three months * S UU
Hue square six months 12 00
One square one year 20 00
Two squares three months 12 00
T*o squares six months 18 00
Two squares one year 80 00
Fourth of a column three moths 80 00
Fourth of a column six months 60 00
Half column three moths 46 00
Half column six months 7o 00
One column three months 70 00
One column six months 100 00
lAberat Bfettucllons .flaitr on
Contract .telrertisemcnts.
Legal Advertising.
Sift riff’s Sale*, per levy, |2 60
Mortgage Fi Fa Sales per sqiare 6 00
Citations lor Letters of Administration, 3 00
“ “ Guardianship, 300
Dismision from H 00
>* “ Guardianship, 4 00
Application for leave to sell 1and, ..... 6 00
Hales of L ind, per square, '.. 5 OU
Sales of Perishable Properly per squ’r, 3 00
Notices to Debtors and Creditors,.... 3 60
Foreclosure of Mortgage, per square, 2 00
Estray Notices, thirty days t 4 00
Job I f'ortt of every desctffption exe
utedwith neatness aud dispatch, at moderate
ares.
RAIL -ROAD GUIDE.
©Mil western Railroad.
WH. BOLT, Pres. | VIRGIL POWERS, Sup
Leave Macon 6.15 A. M. ; arrive at Colum
bus 11.16 A. M. ; Leave 6’ulu'»bus 12.45 P.
J| l, ; arrive at Macon 6.20 P. M.
Leaves Mucod B,A M ; arrives at Eu
faula 5 30, P U ; Leaves Kufuula 7 20, A M ;
Arrives at Macon 4 50, P M.
ALBANY BRANCH.
Leaves Smithville l 46, P M ; Arrives at
Albany S 11, P M ; Leaves Albany 8 35, A M;
Arrives at Smithville 11, A M.
Leave Cuthbert 3 57 P. M. ; arrive at Fort
Gains 5.40 P. M ; Leave Fort Gains 7.05 A
M. ; arrive at C'uthbert 9.05 A. M.
fflacoM & Wctcrn Railroad.
A J. WHITE, President.
U. WALKER, Superintendent.
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Macon . - ■ 780A. M.
Arrives at Atlanta . . . 1 57 P. M
Leaves Atlanta . . • 655A. M.
Arrives at Macon • • . 130 P. M.
NIGHT TRAIN.
Leaves Macon . . • 845 P. M.
Artives at Atlinta . . . 450A. M.
Leaves Atlanta . - - 8 10 P. M.
Artives at Macon . . . 125A. M.
Western & Atlantic Railroad.
CAMPBELL WALLACE, Sup’t.
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leave Atlanta ... 845A. M.
Leave Dilton .... 2.80 P. M.
Arrive at Chattanooga . • 6.25 P.M.
Leave Chattanooga . • «--*• K - M
Artive at Atl inta . . . 12.05 P. M.
NIGHT TRAIN.
Leave Atlanta . . • 7 00 P. M.
Arrive at Chattanooga . . 4.10 A. M
Lcxvp Chuttanooga . . 4SOP. M.
Arrive at Dillon . . • 7 5(1 P. M.
Arrive at Atlanta . . . 141 A. H.
§usiufs,s ©anls,
DR. W. H. HOBNETT
Y\/lI.L. at all times, take great pleasure
v T in waiting on ail who desire /list
service*, aid are willing to pay lor the
same. No.othe* practice is solicited.
Dawson, Ua., January 30th, 1868—ly
DR* A. WARNOCK,
OFFERS Profppstoniil srrvicfS to the
ci>iz*ns of ChickuKawhatchee and its
vtainit'Y. From ample txpeiiouce in both
«ivii and Military practice, lie is prepared to
treat successfully, cases in every department
his profession. jmi6’6Btf
C. B e WOOTEN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Bateson, Ga.
J«ni« 1868 ly
O. J. CURLEY. WILD C. CLETELIN,
GURLEY & CLEVELAND,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Milford, Raker County, Ga.
J. G. S. SRiTII,
SMITH and
MIitW'SOJIT, : ; Georgia.
Repairs all kinds of Guns, Tistols, Sewing
Maenes, etc., etc. 2 ly.
H ARNESS X RE PAIR SHOP
PRINCES' ST.IRt.ES,
Dawson, - Georgia,
C'IAN furnish the public with Carriage
J Trimming, Harness Mounting, &c. All
wort promptly done for the cash.
«73m HARRIS DENNARD.
Mew Firm ! Now Finn!
r J"'HE undersigned having formed a copart
nership, arc now occupying the new build
ing formerly occupied by Wm. Wooten, on
Mam street, first doo, South of the ‘Jourunl
Office, and will keep everything usually found
m a first class Family Grocery, at such prices
as will induce all to trade that call on them.
TANARUS, _ „ CROWELL & HOOD.
Uaweon, Ga., February 6, 1868 —ts
SEWING MACHINES.
fickle a EVO*
SEWING MACHINE CO.,
No. 57 .Broadway Now York.
A Local Agent wanted in every town ; also
traveling Agents to appoiut Local Agent*
throughout the country. liberal Cash com-
P e ®Bau°n paid. A splecdid paying business.
Bend fpi circular. fcbl3;26in.
THE DAWSON JOURNAL
Yol. IIT.
POETRY,
TWO APRILS.
White as snow were the dog-wood blooms,
The heavens were swsetly blue ;
And the air was laden with faint perfumes
From the myriad flowers that grew.
The south wind stirred 1n the meadow grass,
And ruffled the lark’s brown wing;
And the creamy buds of the Sassafras,
Awoko with the breath of Spring.
The linnet broke with joyous lay
The winter’s lengthened hush;
Tbe wide woods rang with the voice of the
joy
Aud the song of the speckled .thrush.
Fair and bright was that April day
As I lay ifi the scented grass,
Waiting for ono tha l would coins that way,
For on* whom I knew would pass.
Near me there with a musical flow,
The rivulet wandered down
Over the pebbles that shone below,
Yellow and red and brown.
All over tbe banks the azure eyes
Os tbe violets glistened blue ;
And thick as stars in the jeweled ekies
The purple pansies grew.
On through the meadow and over tbe hill,
By the path that led that way,
On through the meadow and down by the
mill,
On that balmy April day. .
Came she fdr whose coming I waited there
In the fragrant meadow graas—
Lay and waited that morning where
I knew she soon would pass.
Sweet as a bird’s, as she wound along,
Were the bright little maiden’s tones,
As, gayly singing a blithesome song,
She crossed on the stepping-stones.
Twain little feet, how dainty their tread ;
Bright eyes glancing down ;
Dark green satchel, and shawl of red.
Tresses of gold and brown.
Tears have gathered the seeds they cast,
Aud fled like a round of dreams ;
Tet that April day far back in the past,
llow wondrcusly near it seems!
Again, as of old, now the south wind blows,
In the self same spot I lie,
Where the pansy blooms, and tbe violet
grows,
And the rivulet wanders by.
Oh, bright, fresh flowers, do you bloom less
fair *
Oh, wind, is your breath more chill
For the sweet young eyes, and the brown
gold hair,
And the lips that are htishfd and still*
TMe matrix*.
It was low tide when we went down
to Bristol, and the great gray rocks
stood up, Dare and grim, ab vs the us
er ; but high up on all tbrir sides, was
a black line that seemed hardly dry,
though it was far above the water.
“What makes that black mark on the
rocks ?” I aske 1 of a friend.
‘"O, that is the tide mark'’ she rc
plitd. “Every day, when the tide
comes in, the wafer rises, until it reach
es that line, and iu a groat many years
it lias worn away the stone until the
marl: is out into rock ”
“O,” thought I, that is all i* it ?
Well, I have seen a great many people
that carriiqj tide marks on their faces.
Right ia front of me was a pretty little
girl, with delicate features, aud pleas
ant blue eyes. Rut she had some queer
lltl’e marks on her forehead, aud 1 won
deted how they came to be there, until
presently her mo her said.
“Shut down the bliDd now, Carrie,
the sun shines right in baby’s face ”
“I want to lock out,” said Cartie in
a very pcevbh voice.
But her mother insisted,aud Carrie
shut the blind, aud turned her face away
from the window. O dear me ! what a
face it was! The blue eyes were full
of frowns instead of smiles, the pleasant
lips were drawn up in an ugly pout,
and the queer little marts of the fore
head had deepened into actualjwrinkles.
“Poor little girl,’ I thought, “how
bad you will feel when you grow up, to
have ye ar face marked all over with the
tide marks of passion f for these evil
tempers leave their marks just as surely
as the ocean does, aud I have seen ma
ny a face stamped so deeply with self
will and oovet usees?, that it must car
ry the marks to the grave.
“Take care little folks ! and whenever
you give way to bad temper, remember
the “ tide marks.”'
C3T Horace Greeley says in hie
“Recooleotions ‘‘The woods are my
special department. Whenever I can
save a Saturday for the farm I try to
give a food ptrt of it to my patch of
forest. The axe is the healthiest imple
ment that a man ever bandied, and is
essentially so sor a habitual writers and
other sedentary workers, whoso shoul
ders it throws back, expanding their
chests and opening their lung, if every
youth and man, from fifteen tt? fifty
years old, could yield an ax two hours
per day, dyspept-ia would vanish from
the earth, and rheumatism become de
cidedly scarce. lam a poor chopper,
yet the ax is my doctor and delight. Its
use gives the mind just enough occupa
tion to prevent its falling into reverie
or absorbing trains of thought, while
eyery muscle in the body receives sufi
cient yet not exhausting exercise I
wish all our boys would learu to love
the axe.”
A man out West, who offered bail
for a lriend, was asked by ‘.he judge
if ho had an incumbrance on his farm.
“Oh, yes,” said he, “my old wo
man.’'
DAWSON, GA., THURSDAY, MAY 7, 18GN.
From the Balnbridge Argus.
ftliall lie liavo a War.
Not in cur day and generation The
crisis in our judgement, has long sines
passed, and the hopes of tLc South’s bit
ter foes disappointment in this particu
lar.
Wo admit that a war of races is the
legitimate result of Radical and 8cal»-
wag teaching and aims ; that everything
has been done and being done thnt ha
tred, ntalaee and envy— on the part of
the former, and love of office on the
part of the latter—could invent to es
trange the feelings of tbe African raea
against their master, and bring about a
deadly conflict; but the South will
never be ruled by scalawags, nor will
the people of tho North submit much
longer to Itadinal domination.
The Almighty still governs the Uni
verse ; and a close observation of tbe
event, which have transpired during the
last two years, would satisfy any prop
erly balanced mind that a change for
for the better has been constantly go
ing on intho South, and {that the South
ern States were gradually, but surely,
escaping the coils of the serpent, whioh,
immediately after tho war, bad them
completely in his power.
Nothing but an Alwise Providence
delivered tbe white people of the South
in 18G5 trom the incendiary, assassin,
and beastly savage, the legitimate off
spring of the sudden emancipation of
thfe slaves of the South.
Four millions of tbe slaves turned
loose in the midst of their recent mas
ters, from whom at the same time, all
means of self defence had been wrested,
the freed slaves were armed and
drilled, and the moit inflamatory ap
peals made io their revengeful passions
by Yankee soldiers and sobool marms
belched forth from the bowels of aboli
tion volcanoes of New England, bad
not God prevented it, would have placed
t' e torch of the incendiary to every
Southern Dwelling, and bands of brutal
assassins at every avenue of egress
sought by the fleeing women and chil
dren, as they attempted to escape their
appauling dorm.
God be praised for our deliverance!
llis abundant merries vouchsafed to
our helpless, defenseless people in the
hour of our great peril, place us under
additional obligations to love him and
serve him to our latest breath.
Next to arming and drilling the freed
slaves and disarming the whites, the in
vestment of ihe negro with the right of
suffrage proves the fell dcs : gns of the
Radicals in regard to the Soul hern
whites. The far e enacted in Georgia
during four days of the past week, is
calculated to excite the liveliest appre
hensions of an rally collision of the two
rices, in an exterminating oor (l et, pro
vided ihe whole field is not taken into
the account. Negro suffrage if success
ful, would certainly end in a war of ra
ces Political and social equality o&n
--not be separated. Mako the negro the
equal of the white man at the ballot
box, and you acknowledge him your
equal in every social relation, Yon
admit binj to your table; you grant
him the right to seek the hand of your
daughter, or marry your widow after
you have gone to your grave.
But will the effort to clotho the negro
with the elective franchise be success
ful ? What pny the people of Ohio,
where negroes if allowed to vote could
accomplish nothing? Sixty thousand
majority against it, is their response.—
What say the Northern people gener
ally ? Does not the late election in
Michigan, which resulted in the defeat
of negro suffrage by thirty thousand
votes, correctly represent Northern sen
timents on this question ? We think
it does And decs not this fact prove
conclusively that God does not design
to annul his own laws simply that Rad
icals may be keptin office aud Scala
wags put in office? Does it not prove
that the Almighty intends that the ne
gro shall remain a negro, and the white
man, however muoh the Scalawag may
deplore it, a white man ? If Provi
dence designed the negro’s elevation in
the South, he would hardly refuse to
elevate him in the North, where there
is a class of white people, called Radi
cals, morally the inferior of the negro,
and less capable of administering the af
fairs of government!
No, fellow-countryman, a war of races
will never grow out of negro suffrage
as no such thing will exist. Cuffy will
no more be allowed to vote in Georgia
than Ohio; in Mississibpi, than in
Wisconsin ; in Flordia than in Con
necticut. Scalawags and political buz
zaids generally will soon have nothing
to feed on when the body politic be
comes healthy and the Democratic par
again assumes the reigns of government.
“What would you be, dearest,” said
John to his sweetheart, “if 1 was to
press the seal of love upon those seal
ing wax lips ?"
•‘I should be stationary.”
Into Tli« Kuii-Stilue.
‘T wish father would come home.’
Tbe voice that said this bad a trou
bled tone, and the face that looked up
was sad.
‘Your father will he very angry,’
said an aunt, who was sitting in the
room with a book in her hand. Tho
boy raised himself up from the sofa,
where he had been lying in tears for
half an hour, and with a touch of in -
dignation in his voice, answered :
‘He’ll bo sorry, not angry. Father
sever gets angry.’
For a few moments the aunt looked
at the boy half curiously, and let her
eyes fall again on the book in her
hand. The boy laid himself down on
the sofa again, and hid his face from
sight.
"J hat’s father now !’ He started up
after the lapse of neaily ten minutes,
as the sound of a bell reached his ear,
and went to the room door. He stood
there for a little while, and then came
slowly back, saying with a disappoint
ed air:
‘lt isn’t father. I wonder what
keeps him so late. Oh, I wish he
w mi Id come.’
‘You seein anxious to get deeper
into trouble,’ remarked the aunt, who
had only been in ihe house for a week
ami who was not very amiable or very
sympathising towards children. The
boy’s fault had provoked her, and she
cormidired him a tit subject for punish
ment.
‘I believe, aunt Phoebe, that you
would like to see me, whipped,’ said
tbe toy, a little warmly; ‘but you
won’t,’
‘I must confess,’ replied aunt Phoebe,
‘that I think a little wholesome discip
line of that kind you speak of, would
not be out of place. If you were my
child, I am very sure you would not
escape.’
‘i am not your child ; I don’t want
to be. Father’s good, and loves me.’
‘lf your father is so rood, and loves
you so well, you niu'-t be very un
grateful, or a very inconsiderate boy
His goodness don’t seem to have help
ed you much.’
‘Hush, will you ?’ ejaculated the boy,
excited to anger by this ur.kindness of
speech.
‘Phoebe !’ It was tho boy’s mother
w ho spoke now, for the first time, and
in ab undertone added: You are
wrong. Richard is suffering quite
enough, and you are doing him harm
rather than good.’
Again the bell rang and again tbe
boy left the sofa, and went to the sit
ting room door
■lt’s father!’ and he went gliding
down stairs.
‘Ali, Richard !’ was tbe kindly greet
ing, is Mr. Gordon took the baud of
his boy. ‘But what is the matter my
son 1 you doo’t look happy.’
Tbe eyes of Richard filled with tears
as he locked into his father’s face. IJe
tried to answer, but his lips quivered
Then he turned away, and opening die
door of the cabinet, brought out the
fragments of a broken statue, which
had been sent home only the day be
fore and set them on a table before bis
father, over whoso countenance came
instantly a shadow of regret.
,Who did this, my son ?’ was asked
in an even voice.
‘I did it.’
‘How ?’
‘I thraw my ball in there, o.nco—only
once, in forgettulness.’
Tho poor lioy’s tones were husky
and tremulous
A little while Mr. Gordon sat con
trolling himseli, and collecting his dies
lurbed thoughts, 'i hen he said cheer
fully :
‘What is done, Richard, can’t be
helped ; put the broken pieces away
You have had trouble enough about
it, I can see—and reproof for yoat
thoughtlessness—so 1 will not add a
word to increase your pain’
‘Ah, lather,’ and the bo; threw his
arms about his father's neck. ‘You
are so kind—so good 1’
Five minutes later, and Richard
entered tho sitting room with his lath
er. Aunt Phoebe looked up for two
shadowed faces, but she did not see
them. She was puzzled.
‘That was very unfortunate,’ she
said, a little whiie after Mr Gordon
came. ‘lt was such an exquisite work
of art It is hojtfdessly ruined.’
Richard was leaning against his fath
er when bis aunt said this. Mr. Gor
don only smiled and drew his arm
around bis boy. Mrs. Gordon threw
upon her a look of warning, but it was
unheeded.
‘I think Richard was a very naughty
boy.’
•Wo have settled that, Phoebe,* was
the mild but firm answer of Mr. Gor
don ; ‘and it is one ol our rules to get
into sunshine as soon as possible ’
Phoebe was rebuked, while Richard
looked grateful and it may be, a little
triumphant; for his aunt had borne
down upon him rather too hard for a
boy’s patience to endure.
In the sunshine as quickly as possi
ble. Oh, is not that the better philos
ophy for our homo ? Is it not true
Christian pnilosophy ? It is selfishness
that grows angry and repels, because
a fault has been committed. Let us
get the oftendcr into the sunshine as
quickly as possible, so that true
thought and right feelings may grow
vigorous in its warmth. We retain
anger, not that anger may act as a
wholesome decipline, bui because we
are unwilling to forgive. Ah, if we
were always right ourselves we should
olteoer bo right with our children.
A lady speakihg of the gathering of
lawyers to dedicate u new court he use,
said she supposed they had gone “to
view the gieund where they must
shortly lie.”
Ilotrollial and f’lirlatiou.
Engagements are beginning to
'sumo the same sacred importance in this
country as the marriage ceremony itself.
Tea years ago this was so far trom be
ing the case that it was no evidence
whatever of au approaching marriage
that a yoang man aud a young woman
were “engaged’’ to each other. The
term meant no more than iho term “flir
tation’’ docs to-day. It meant a few
soft words, exchanged in the shadows of
a bay window, a passing blush, and dia
mond riug. If it by chance resulted in
a marriage, so much tho better, or so
much tbe worse, for those most iuter
-08 cd—tho situation involved no neces
sity for so rash a conclusion. It is safe
to Pay that under tho social customs
which governed engagements feu yean,
ngo, not one io four of those which
wete made resulted ia tnartiago.
If soft words and a diamond ring had
been the only concomitants of an en
gage cent under the old rrt/ine —and an
entirely amical dissolution of partner
ship the only result of the thtre case*
iu four which did not end in marriage
—no fault could be feumi with the
former social customs. Some men there
are, however, who still Lslieve in tho
best society. The gayest belles of New
port and Saratoga were not entirely free
' from tbe natural suggestions affection,
i The tightest corsetscannot entirely stop
tho beatings of the heart, nor can the
ticking of tbe riohtst “hunting case’’ si
lence it. W hca both.parties meant fl r
taiions, and nothing but flirtation, an
engagement was a pleasant episode.—
When one of thorn meant marriage, tbe
episode was disagreeable. When one
of them bad learned to lrve the other,
the episode was painful. Wlieu one
of them had come to center the full,
earnest, passionate affection of the hoart
upon tho other, the episode wag a dan
serous one. Heart* wore broken under
the old rule, and no one was res; ensible.
kuung men became reckless, sought ex
citement and dissipation iu society and
elsewhere to keep their thoughts from
themselves and their own feelings.—
Young girls became heartless women of
the world because the natural, domestic
instincts of womanhood had been crush
ed bv unfulfilled engagements. Society
was playing with fire.
Where, the reader may ask, is the
distinction between the society of to
day and the society of the last decade,
in these respects ? It lies simply iu the
fact (hat erig.igrineuts are now an
nounced. Tea years ago a betrothal—
they never called it by so sacred an true
—an engagement was considered a mat
ter of profound secrecy. It was utterly
impossible to say, with any certainty,
what gentlemen and ladies were engagi and
to be married, and who were no* engaged.
A lady might be engaged to a gcntle
mau one day, and he engaged to anoth
er the next the word would be little
the wiser for it. Her iotiuiale friends
might notice a difference in (boring up
on her Auger—lour diamonds, perhaps,
t ustcad of three. The gentleman cast
off may have congraiulatcd I huself up
on the result, or he may have turned
pale, determined to send regrets for ev
ery dance, and abjure sooiety aud women
forever. There was no responsibility
on either side. With the custom of an
nouncements as it exists to-day, howev
er. tho responsibility is a eerious one.
A young lady must think a second time,
before she concludes to accept an en
gagement ring. There is somotbiog
beyond the flesh of a diamond, some
thing beyond the convenience of a lover
at the Opera and at concerts. It is not
good for a woman’s reputation, now, to
be engaged and to become disengaged
too frequently. She becomes an object
of contempt in society. The same is
true of » gentleman.
By “announcement” we do not refer
to publica'ion—wo mean simply the
making public of betrothals in ?■ ciety.
Wo believe, bow ver, that the publica
tion of etigi)g , ‘tnonts when once an
nounced, is as proper as the publication
of marriages. We believe that the
custom will prevail in this country as it
prevails in Europe, and that will
strengthen tho bonds of the btliothal
prnmiso Whatever objections may b“
urged against the publication of other
society news, the "iiblio ann uncoTSct t
of engagements can have no effect but a j
good one. As tbe obligation of betroth- j
al become more and more binding, as a
matter of policy and of reputation, th -y
will begin to assume a higher and more
worthy significance. The premiss of
marriage is already looked upon as a sa
cred promise—ten years ago it was con
sidered a trifle, a breath, a playful form
of coquetry. Bome of vh» customs of
Europoda which religious c.remind s
accompany the marriage promise are
very beautiful. The spiri‘, not the
presence of these eus'oms will do much
to purify our own society.
A correspondent writes: “Frequent
ly we find sick people whose stomachs
reject ali kind of noutishment until
conditions follow that in mauy instan
ces termioato fatally. Iu twenty in
stances iD which 1 have heard the pop
ular sick bed nourishments prescribed
and rejected by an invalid’s enfeebled
stomach, I have never known the sim
ple saucer of patched corn pudding or
a boll of gruel refused. The corn is
roasted brown precisely as we ri ast cof
fee, ground fir.e as meal in a ooffae mill,
and made either into mush gruel or
thin cakes, baked lightly browD, and
given either warm or cold, clear with
whatever dressirg the stomach will re
ceive and retain. Parched corn and
men! boiled in skimmed milk nud fed
frequently to children suffering from
summer diarrhea will always cure, as it
will dysentery iu adults, and, I believe,
tbe cholera io its earliest siago.”
A wag observes that lie looks under
tho marriage head for tte news of tbe
“weak.”
3Vo. 13
j Life I’ortruU* |,y Brick Pomc
roy.
“Brick” Pomeroy takes some pen pbo
tograghs in tho U. S. Senate. Tho fol
lowing is o»e of them :
The smooth faced old man looking
as if six devils were playing Skittles in
his brain, is Thad Stevens. Old Tbad
tho bravest ol thorn all, for he sneers at
God, defies the Constitution, and n*
heart dispises tho cowardly Radicals,
who fear when he frowns, and tremble
when he looks cross, aud do bis bid
ding as rq*bgy curs obey tha lash they j
dread, Jv.tdaro not ties from. () and !
I had. sjts iu an easy chair, more for
ifleet than ought clac. lie leans back
saidouically, as half a dizea of his ui
rniicrs gather arouud him to seout his
rm thod, as a lot of whiffets iu tha city
sucak up to smell of some stouter deg
from she country.
The good die young, Thad. is old,
but not so near the door of death as
tome think for. lie ttjoys his little j
“tod,’ and so forth, and plays a nice
little game ol draw poker with tbe last
of them—and phys to win.
‘.‘Brick” Pomeroy makes another {do
lure It i* not necessary to introduce
this character. lls is sufficiently well
known iu t lie South, to be instautly rec
ogniz'd, oven if “Biick” had not used
bis name :
"The eminent whelp tie flower of in
iquity sitting by the corner of the ta
ble with atqawning’over hisoyo,a mous
tache on his upper lip, a low receding
forehead and a look of hardened deprav
ity on his faoe, is Hon. B. P. Butler,
of Massachusetts, son of a (Lief, a thief
himself, with the face of a beast, and
?onl of a brute. lie is a great man is
Butler, lie has been before the courts
as criminal and prosecutor. lie has
been a thiif, liar, coward, and a villain
from biith. He has been a traMor for
years, and ia now a traitor. Jlo has
been a robber, a murderer, a libertine, a
woman insulter, a walking monument
of corruption tor years, and here iu this
hot house of evil is as much at home as
he will be till at rest ia Abraham’s
bosom.
TJiat Fame will bi-iug Them
Down.
The statement of tbe Radical papers
that if their man is elected, Congress
will remove bis disabilities at once, re
minds us of a story that we once heard,
of a youthful boastful fellow who had
removed from North Carolina to North
Georgia, when he boasted that he bad
out run, whipped and thrown down all
the best men in the former Srate. fie
was repeating Lis boast one day in the
hearing of an old soldier of the war of
'l2, and who was highly incensed at tLe
impudcnco of the yrung feilow.
Said the old soldier : “You may Lavo
done all that you brag of, but you nev
er fit for yer country ”
“Well, if I didu’t I had my name put
down to light tbe I junsin Canada,”
said (he young folio tv.
“Yet, I koowed you never fi',’’ re
torted the old man.
“I would have fit, but daddy took me
and <wn to Wilmington, an’ the Boater
said I wasn’t able to go ”
‘ I bnowed you ti ,” sbrtuted
tbe old soldier, gfad that lie hudeoruered i
bitn so easily.
“Well,’' said tho youngster, “if 1
didu’t fight, they took the paper along
that hid my name writ on it, and every !
tirno they called my cssie at roll call, i
twelve It j'Jtis fell dead io their tracks.” ,
Ail tho Radicals have to do is to call
out Bullock’s natno iu the Capitol at
Washington, anl Congrc-s will fall
down dc-d in its tracks — Atlanta Opin- 1
ion.
A Merchant in a Quandary.—Ono;
of our largest merchants, a 1 Lurch
member, the father of a family, and
evidently ono ol tboso specimens of
manhood so graphically 'lt sen bod by
Burns in bis ; Holy W illie’s Prayer,”
so far forgot bis usual prudence as to
peunit 0nc..0l his tkyrks to meet him in
a resort no/ exactly fl ting lor gentle
men of his s uudlug it nit p ofetaion.
Nothing was said at the time, but
tho next morning tho mcipjrnt di otplo
ot Bqpchus advanced to the desk of
bis potent* senior and very politely
requested .the Joan of u hundred do.- i
l»rs ’ ■
“What do you moan, sir ?”
“Mere y that I want to borrow that
sum—it is not strange, is it V ’
“You can consider yourself discharg
ed, st ; go to the casbcr and receive
what is due jou ”
“Very wed,'sir, I trust to have tho
pleasure of meeting you at B—’s wgaiu
to-night ?”
“Eh ! what —wait a moment —what
did you say V”
The words were repea tod.
“1 say, James, 1 was only j sting;
here is your hundred dollars, pay me
when convenient j but James, nothing
about seeing me last, night ?”
“Ob ! uo, sir, on my honor.’’— X. 0.
rici.i>/une.
In a meeting house in which it was
customary tor the men to sit on one
side of the room and the women on
the other, there was so much talking,
one Sabbath, that the minister bad to
spoilt of ft. ’
“Tliope you’ll take noti o that it’s
not < 11 our side i*f tho bouse,” said one
ot tbe women.
“80 much Ihe better,” enid thq p„';„
liter, “so much the better, f OJ thtuit’ll
joener be over.’’
Hark Twain’*Turkish Lunch.
I niver want another ono. The cook
ing apparatus was in tho little lunch
room near tho bazaar; and it was all
open to the street. The cook was dir
ty, ard so was the table, and it bad no
cloth on it. The fellow took a mass of
sausage meat and coated it round a wire,
and laid it on a charcoal fire to cook
W hen it was done Jig laid it asido, and
a dog walked sadly in and nipped it.—
He smelt it first, and probably rcoog
nized tho remains of a friend. The
cook took it away from him and laid it
before us. Brown said “I pass.” He
plays cuobre sometimes; and we all
passed in turu. Tlitu tho ojok baked
a broad, flat wheaton oake, greased it
well with tho sausage, and started to
bring it to us. It dropped in the dirt,
and he picked it up aud polished it on
1 the scat of his breeches, and laid it be—
• fore us. Brown said, “I pass.” Wo
all passed and called anew deal. Ho
put some eggs in a frj ing pan. and stood
pensively prying slabs of meat from be
tween his teeth with a folk. Then ho
u cd tho foik to luru thq eggs with, and
brought them along. Browu said, “I
pa'-H.” All followed suit. Wc did not
know what to do, aud so wc ordered a
new ration of sausage. The cook got
out his wire, apportioned a proper
amount ol sausage meat, spit on his
hands and fell to work. This time,
with one accord, we passed out. We
paid and left This is all I learned
about Turkish lunches. A Tuikish
lunch is good, no and mbf, but it has its
weak point*. —Alta Cali/Srnian.
An Irishman remarked of a lady
who had b*en very kind to him. “Be
ilad, she’s a perfect gentleman.”
Why are women extravagent iu
clothes? Been use when they buy a
new dress they wear it out on the first
day.
A wea’thy widow, advertising for
an agent, was overwhelmed with ap
plications. The printer had made it
“a gent ”
A humane individual remarks that
ono of the skulls found in Pompeii at
the exeavition, offered to Admiral
Farragut, is supposed to be that of a
lawyer, from the remarkable extent of
its jaw
‘ You Drive played the deuce with
my heart” said a gentleman to a ladv
who was Lis partner in a game cf
whist
‘•Well,” replied the lady, with an
eroh smile, “it was because you played
the knave.”
Mrs. Partington has been reading
the healtn officer’s weekly reports,
and thinks that “Total” most be an
aw ful maligant disease, since us inpny
dio of it as all tire rest put together.
A Michigan undertaker thus grate
fully re-ponds to a friend who had
done him a favor :
“If you ever want a coffin call on
mo I shall be rm.st happy to bury
you and all your family at tbe lowest
cost price 1”
A handsome young bride was ob
ssrvod to be in deep reflection on her
wedding day. One of tier bridesmaids
itesed her the subject of her midita
tion- •
* I was thinking wlrich of my dd
beaux 1 should marry if I thoujd be
come a widow.’,'
An old lady once said that her idea
of a great man, was “a mau who was
keerful ol las clothes; didn’t drinK
spirits; kin read the Brblo without
spelling tbe words, and kin eat a cold
dinner on wash day, to save the witn
meo folks the trouble of cookieg,”
“Bridget,” said O’Mulligan to his
wife, “its a cowld ye have. A drop
of tne crather’ud do you no barrum.’’
“©ol: hone,’’ said Biddy, “I’ve ta
li ri the pledge; but you can nix a
di ink, jemmy, and forte me to swufly
it.” ' , 1
“I wish you Would behave better at
tho table,” said a boy so bis little sis
ter, rather trastily, one owning. Don’t
sjieak so, ’ replied bis mother; “she is
a good little girl, on the whole.” “I
don't see where the good comes in,”
he replied “It conies in right after
tbe r,” said his sister.
It is a little remaikab'e that the
book whose contents tiro more gener
ally it teres ing than those of any vol
ume tesu-d, is-u book which Iras be n
but little read, and, in met, has never
been printeJ. Tlie curiosity of the in
telligent reader will be a laved when
wo state that tho book alluded to is
the pocket book.
A yotinV man hiving preached for
bis bishop, WES anxious to get a word
of applause for his labor of lovo. Tho
bishop, however, did not introduce the
subject, and Lis younger brother was
oblige-! to bait the hook for him. “I
hope, sir, I did not weary your people
by the length of my sermon to-day ?'*
‘No, sir, not at till; nor l>y tbe depth
either!”
A Southern lady, who is the
vnte of a prominent and extreme Radi
cal, residing in ene of the Northfra
States, while engaged in plucking tho
gray Lens from her husband’s mustache,
was asked by '■ im: “W bw are you do
ing, my clear?” (July carrying out your
own policy, sir; >xterminating tie
whites fir the benefit of the blaeks,’*
Was the reply.
A young buck, of the *»•
lock order, who wore an nnsbaved ' p
because, as he said, “It looked to'
late y accosted a Yankee ass j} l
‘ 1 say. fellow, some iud>''.iiu»* S '
lam a Frenchman, aur*. a( r - lS think
for an Italvean; uo'v w b , ,' 12 talre nJe
I am ?” uo •>'*’« think
! “Waal, I iu-v ' ,
. ~ , A 10 a aimed
■ replied Ji nathm.