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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.