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“GALLAHER'S INDEPENDENT; PUBLIHHED EVERY SATURDAY AT QUITMAN, GA., by J. C. GALLAHER, TKRMS OF SUBSCRIPTION I two DOLLA HSper Annum in Advance. FORK VlSft. BY MARY W. MH'kLBS. The shimmering m<Kmbcarafl sifting through The elm-boughs, kissed the river; "While night-winds caught again tho words-- Love ever, and forever, Alas! fair summers come and pass, And fondest hearts B<x*n sever; One pleading praver on pairing lips— Love me ever, and forever. Again the broad, brown breast of earth June's regal splendor cover; /Wain liven touch, love wa to Join Forever, and forever. Their lives touch here, ono loyil heart Fool* life** love-dream is over, And mourns a dead that ne’er will wake— Dead love is dead—forever 1 1 A REVEALTION FROM THE SEA. ‘‘l may write to you, Alice, mayn't I?” Alice shook her head, “Better not,” (she said; “ranch better not.” Still the denial was faint. “But I shall write,” said the young man, warmly; “it is all the comfort l have. I don’t ask you to write to uie; hut I will write to you, and ” “He would he angry,” said Alice, slink ing her head; “no, you, really musu’t. ” “All right,” said the sailor,with a warm, sunuysimlo; “to your sister, then—-all right. 1 know you’ll go and ask her for a letter sometimes. Good-by, darling—-one kiss.” The kiss was given hurriedly and sur reptitiously, and the sailor sprang from the landing-stage into a boat that was waiting alortg-side, and presently the oars wore Hashing in the sunshine, ns she made rap idly for a bul k lying in the stream. Alice stood and watched the receding boat watched it till it reach the ship and was hauled up on the davits. Presently the cheery song of the sailors was heard over the water, the clink of the windlass, as they lauded the anchor homo. Then she suook out her sails and departed. A shore boat, however, had put off from the ship at the very last moment, and c-ooje slowly against the tide toward the land. It reached the landing-stage, and a wizened, elderly man landed and comes up the stairs.' • "Well, Alice," he said, “well, you've waited, a long timo for Dicky —good girl, good girl 1 Now my birdie, we’ll go home to our little cage.” Alice sighed and put her hand in his arm and they went off, be with a springy, shambling gait, meant to be sprightly and juvenile; she with a slow, lifeless step, that yet kept pace with him. Richard Toft, the ship owner, who had just lauded, was seventy years old, or more, and lie had married Alice Graham, who was only nineteen. But then, Toft was tee richest man in the port of Mel ford li ■ gis, and everybody said she lmd done well for herself. There had been some silly love passages between her and William Black, the son of Widow Black, of Wood bine cottage; but lie was only a mate in one of Richard's Ships, and could K-v< r have made a homo for her, to say nothing of the misery of marrying a sailor, and be ing a widow, as it were, for four years out of five. Now, it wasn’t in the course of nature that Dicky Toft should live forever; and then, if she played her cards well, what a happy woman she might he ! She would have to play her cards, mind you, for she was a poor girl when she married, and Dicky had kept all his money at his own disposal; but then, what fool like an old fool ? and a pretty girl, like Alice, ought to bo able to wind him around her little finger. Certainly Mr. Toft was wonderfully proud of his wife, and with good cause, for she was one of the prettiest girls in Melford. To be sure, after her marriage she seemed to fade a little, whilst Dicky seemed to grow young and green again, and responded to all the railery of which he was the subject as archly and wickedly us any grizzled old monkey on a perch. Nothing was too good for Alice in Mr. Toft's opinion. He bought her bawls from the Indies, beautiful muslins and silks that would stand on end; he gave her jewels, too, and decked her out with chains and trinkets and earrings, till she grew ashamed of her splendor. By and by, Willie Black came home from a long voyage, and ono of the first to welcome him and to envite him to his house was Mr. Toft, the ship-owner. He had heard all about this little love affair, but he hud such confidence in his wifo— she was such a jewel, so devoted to him— lie was anxious that his rival should see how' completely she had forgotten him. “You brought him, yourself,” said Allico in her own heart, looking rather hardly at her husband, as lie toiled up the steep hill that led to their house, panting shaking, bnt refusing to acknowledge that he was tired. “I had schooled myself to be con tent, and with your own hand yon shat tered all my good resolves. ” “Let us stay here for a moment,” said M*. Toft, “and admire this pleasant view. Oh, I’m not tired —no, no—not at all; but see the ship standing out to sea. She’s a eapita! sailor, eh ? ah, yes.” Her sails were spread out far in the dis tance, rosy with the beams of the setting sun, but a chilly mist was creaping up, and presently the glow vanished and the white sails were blotted out, disappearing in the great vague world of mist and sea and shadow. “Why, what’s tlic matter, Alice ?” said Mr. Toft turning sharply round. “Tears! Ah, well, yes, yes, we know—a little hys terical, eh ? Don’t excite yourself, dear est. My dear poppets we will walk home very quietly, and then we will have tea in our nest. ” She followed her lord and master slowly up the hill to their home on Lookout hill, it was a pleasent little villa with a fine garden. Things went on quietly enough at Look outville for another couple of years. Mrs. Toft had not been blessed by children, its Richard had hoped, and the old man was a good deal crestfallen thereat; still he lived in hope, and seemed fonder than ever of his young wife. By and by the rumor went about that he had sent for Lawyer Emlyn to make his will—be had always been very stubborn against making wills; and presently, when Mrs. Emlyn toiled up Lookout hill to visit Mrs. Tolt, — the Emlyns had never visited before at that house, —and sometime after invited her to spend a quiet evening in the High street, everybody surmised how the will was made, and judged that the property disposed of was not inconsiderable. Meantime, the Peru via, the good ship that had sailed away that fine summer’s evening, hail been heard of more than once. She had not been spoken, however, later than the last October, when she had VOL. I. I left Kumohee with the northeast monsoon J for the Red sea, intending to come home ’by Suez and the Mediterranean. Any day ! she might return, any day might witness William Black striding up Lookout hill; any one of the white-winged ships that dotted the horizon might bo the ship that heart-sore Alice was longing to see. He had been very good; he had not written to her sister—she had forbidden him to do so, and he had obeyed her; and y*t if he knew how she longed to hear he was safe—after all, it was better not. Mr. Toft was breaking a little, people said. He was no longer us active as ho bad been only a short year since. He rarely came down into the town now, and ! when he did it was pitiable to see him j toiling back up the hill, making believe j that tho ascent was not painful to him. j He had been used to conic each morning to the reading-room; hut now be had given ; that up, and had the 'linn s sent to him , the next day after publication. One summer evening—her husband had ! been poorly all day, and Alice had been i constantly occupied in attending to him, ! but now ho had gone off to sleep—she put ion her things and went down into the I town to make a few purchases, intending to spend half an hour w ith Mrs. Emlyn, ! to enjoy a gossip with that lively, convcr j sible lady. Down the hill she went, the cool sca i breeze fanning her parched checks. The : evening was divine, and the sea was I stretched before her in long golden I swathes, the murmur of it sounding gently in her ears. Ships were stirring—some : outward-bound were heaving at their nu | chors, and the well-remembered sailor’s ! song came softly over the water; some ! homeward-bound were making for their anchoring grounds, wiili full-bellied sails. ! She strained her eyes and fancied that now ! this and now that might be the long-ex i peoted Pernvia. Bnt no, there could be i no doubt then; her heart would tell her at once, “That is William's ship I” The sun was getting low, and she lias- I toned quickly down the hill. The met : sundry townspeople she knew by sight, : and nodded to them a good-natured greet ing; they turned and looked at her, and | watched her down tho hill. “How rude I people are getting,” she thought. “There i was a time when these would all have ! touched their hats to the wife of the ship : owner. ” At each shop she visited alio noticed j something strange about the people. Mr. \ Meagre, the draper, came out of liis little I box and stared ul her, and Mrs. Meagre’s 1 stony visage appeared over the glass door, 1 sternly regarding her. It was the same lat tho other shops. Everybody looked j queer. “Imagination !" she told herself. “I ! feel altogether strange, and I find my own ; feelings reflected in other people's faces. Here comes Mrs. Emlyn.” Mrs. Emlyn came up to her, and looked j at her with vacant, unrocoguizing gazo. “Mrs. Emlyn,” she cried, “how fortu : nab* l am to have met you The lady gat,hired together her skirts 1 and passed coldly on. “Oh, what have I done—what is the matter ?” cried Alice. Hhe felt faint and i giddy; something dreadful had happened. ■ The air grew heavy and .thick; all the houses in the red, quaint High street i seemed to blink at her. She was as if in a dream, when the lust trumpet seems to I sound, and tho universe quakes around. ■ But it was nothing; it could be nothing; j Mrs. Emlyn was often queer. But she turned round and made her way j home. Her husband was awake ami crying for her like a sick child. She ! could do nothing to-night, but in the morning she would go down into the town and get to the bottom of the mystery, it it were a mystery, and not all a delusion. Next morning Mr. Tolt was better —much better; cheerful and chir ! rnpy. He had his breakfast in bml, how ever, and Alice took it up to him. He was | quite affectionate over liis feast, and loving | over his eggs ; and by noon’ he was down | stairs in the ; itting-room grumbling that the Times hadn't tome. “It is hero now, Richard,” said his wife, j bringing him the great, broad sheet. She | left him to his paper and went on her way : about household matters. By and by she j heard a strange sound in the pal lor as if i somebody had fallen. She ran into the ! room ; jfr. Toft was on the floor in a heap | against his easy chair. He had fallen into ■ a fit ; the paper was scrunched up in Iris hand. A strange pang shot through her. Grief, ! remorse, expectation, a flush of hope that I would not be repressed. In n moment she l was herself again. She laid him gently along the floor, rang the hell violently for J assistance, undid his neck-tie and the front | of his shirt, chafed liis temples and hands. ! Servants came and she went off lor the doc ■ tor. She moistened his lips with brandy, lb- revit i'll. - Strangely he shrank away from her— would not suffer her to touch him ; the gardener had come in to help, and, with his assistance, the old man made liis way to his bed-room. Alice w r as wounded and amazed ; but she had heard of sick people suddenly taking fancies against those they loved the host.— j She went to the door to see if the doctor j was coming. Mv. Emlyn, the lawyer, was walking quickly up the hill, a newspaper under his arm. lie looked sternly at l*r i as be approached. “I must see Mr. Toft,” he said, as he ; reached the door. “You can not see him ; he is very ill,” said Alice. Th window of Mr. Toft's room was open, and he must have heard of Mr. Em lyn’s voice. “Show Mr. Emlyn up,” he cried in : harsh, shrieking tones. “Come here, sir ;; | come here !” Mr. Emlyn pushed his way in, and up the staircase; Alice was too frightened to ; forbid him. The gardener presently came in for pens and ink, took them up to his master, and then waited at the bottom of | tho stairs. “You had better go to your work again, i Thomas,” said Alice ; “we can manage without you now.” “Master said I was to stay here.’’ She said nothing more, but went into the sitting-room, and waited and watched in dull, bewildered expectation. Then she heard Mr. Emlyn’a voice. ‘ ‘Thomas, come up and bring one of your fellow-servants.” There was a trampling up stairs, and then down ; after that Mr. Emlyn came out of her husband’s room ; he left the house forthwith, without speaking to Alice. Then the doctor came ; he, too, was shown up stairs. By and by he came down into tho room where Alice was. He took her kindly by the hand. QUITMAN, It A., SATURDAY, MARCH 21, 1874. “My dear Mrs. Toft, prepare yourself for bad news.” “Is he very ill ?",gasped Alice. “Yos, very ill ; nay, ho is dead.” After that the days passed like a dream till the day of the funeral. She wished to follow him to the grave—-for he had been very good to her, she thought; and, now that ho was gone, her mind misgave her that she had been faithless to him, not in deed, hut in heart but this was forbidden by those who had tho management of af fairs. A relation of Mr. Toft had turned up, a nephew, a lanky, raw-boned youth, with a long neck and a tuft of red lmir on his chin ; and this Ephraim Toft was the chief mourner. Mr. Emlyn was also at tho fu neral, and when they returned they went into the parlor and drank wine, and after- j ward sent for Mrs. Toft to hear tho will read. Ho was a solemn, courteous man, this i Emlyn, with a full, resounding voice, and he read out tho terms of the will distinctly and sonorously. It, was difficult to sup press a feeling of elation as ho rolled over the list of Mr. Toft’s possessions, and end ed with the clause that left his wife sole legatee and executrix. How, through the gloom of this day. bright vistas of the fu ture gleamed and shone ! “Ahem ! there is n codicil,” said Mr. Emlyn ; and bit by bit tho codicil undid all that the will had done. The lanky neph ew uncoiled himself, and glowered and blinked with amazement and delight.— There was but ono bequest to Alice—a copy of The l imes of— Juno, of tho day previous to the old man’s death. They left her to herself for awhile, and she tried to grasp what all this meant.— The lawyer had politely handed to the widow her legacy, a copy of the Tunes. — What could it mean ? Ah, yes, it was dreadful, this poverty, after wealth had seemed within her grasp. But still there was youth and hope ; and William—yes, she might think of him now, fully and freely. IShe carried no burden of gratitude, she was free now, ami perhaps William was close at hand. Well, she would read this limes. Presently slm clasped her hands toiler forehead, and, with strained and horror struck eyes, read this paragraph : “Dkkf.uot at Ska.— A pathetic incident is narrated by the muster of the steamship Suez, just arrived at Liverpool. It appears, that in the Indian ocean she met with a disunited vessel, apparently abandoned by the crew. A boat was sent to board her J when the following sight met tho eyes of the officers : The main and upper decks had been swept clean by the sea, tho bull j works were carried away, and evtrv vestige of the spars and rigging. No living being was found on board, but in tho captain’s (jftbin wan the body of a young man with golden hair and beard, much decomposed. A letter was lying on the table, which was brought away by the boat’s crew, and we are requested to give it in full, as it may lead to the identification of the ship : “Deanst Alice : How often have 111 ought of our last parting, and longed once more to clasp you in mv aims ! Hove like ours is never to bo parted, let the Sulky old cen tenarian do as i," please. I write, to you at your sister’s, as you desired me, No. 19 Bond street, Melford ltegis. How well I remember the happy hours we have, spent there 1 I am in command of the slop now. Tho rest of the letter is illegible, except the words, ‘Come to me, your loving Wil liam Blank.’ The body was sunk in the sea, the vessel left to its fate, and the steamer continued her course.” That night, as the sun was setting, light ing up with golden flames the broad estua ry of Melford, the tide was at its full, and white-winged ships were floating in upon its bosom ; a young girl appeared on the farthest extremity of the landing-stage, and, poising herself for a moment, and taking a last, long look at all tho beautiful scene around, cast herself into the waters, which closed around her with a sullen rip-1 pie. Once, and once again, a white arm was seen at the surface ; boats put out, and men with ropes shouted and gesticula ted from the shore ; but it was of no use, the sea claimed its own, nml still hoards in its hidden treasury the hones of William and Ailico. Pom's Sister —For many years the an nouncement, “A sister of Edgar A. Poe is living at Baltimore, in great destitut tion,” has appeared in the exchanges at irregular interval. The Baltimore Gaeatte has conferred a boon upon newspaper readers in supplementing the old time paragraph with the following; “Rev. George W. Powell, pastor of the Universalist church, delivered to Mb Rosalie M. Poe, the aged and helpless sis ter of Maryland’s brilliant poet, Edgar A. Poe, the sum of ;>46 35, tho net proceeds of his lecture recently delivered for her benefit, entitled “A Warning Voice from the grave of Edgar A. Poe.” The feeble If in t. rros of warm gratitude, but spoke gloomily of her fu ture.” Oldest Timber in the World. Probably the oldest timber in tho world which has been subjected to the use of man is that which is found in the ancient temples of Egypt. It is found in connec tion with stone work which is know to he at least four thousand years old. This wood, and tho only wood used in tho con struction of temple, is in the form of ties, holding tho end of one .stone to another in its upper surface. When two blocks were laid in place, then it appears that an excavation about, an inch deep was made in each block, into which and hour-glass shaped tie was driven. It is therefore very difficult to force any stone from its position. The ties appear to have been the tamarisk orshittim wood, of which the ark was constructed, a sacred tree in an cient Egypt, and now very rarely found in the valley of the Nile. Those dovetailed ties are just as sound now as on the day of their insertion. Although fuel is extremely scarce in that country, those bits of wood | are not large enuogli to make it an object with the Arabs to heave off layer after layer of heavy stone for so small a prize. Had they been of bronze half of the old temples would have been destroyed years ago, so precious would they have been for various purposes. Counterfeit Nickles. — Dnringlast year the City ltn-ilroad Company, of New Or leans, received in the Siawson boxes in their cars, forty-seven thousand counterfeit (uickel) five cent pieces, making an aver age of counterfeit money paid to the com pany of six dollars per day, sufficient to purchase feed for twenty horses. The ten other .companies in New Orleans were re cipients of a large amount of bogus coin. Cat. No doubt, my dear reader, you know what cats arc, and, presuming as much, 1 1 will not waste time in describing their j personnel generally, but will try to tell you sumo sports which our domesticated i feline indulges in to distract us, and amuse himself. Tom—our cat-—is a dig i nified cat, and, never condescends to do anything mean or little; so when neigh bor Smith’s cat came into our yard to in spect the baking- -which was placed on benches near the oven—Tom considered his dignity insulted, and, immediately de clared war entile'livadcr of his dominions. Smith's cat saw “tho cloud above the horizon,” but, ho being about two pounds heavier than Tom, did not retreat, hut ; entrenched himself behind a pan of dough, ! and awaited the onset of the warlike Tom. Thomas began the attack with an eitr i splitting yell, and a magnificent bound, | and landed on the back of Smith’s cat, and, oh ! didn’t the tar fly ? it flew fur ther. But Smith’s cat being the larger did not tolerate this very long, and consequently Tom was- made painfully aware of tiro fact that part of liin nose was amputated. “Oh, that was a squall, my countrymen 1” Then Tom’s angry passions rose- his feelings were hurt, and, with a vigorous stroke of his pnw he upset liis adversary, and tore off his right car, and scratched his head, and ere Smith's cat could gain his reposure. Tom had “covered himself with glory,” and the bread with fur and blood. This was too much for Smith’s cut to stand, and rising in all his majesty, and part of our bread, lie "went for” Thomas and came very near making a funeral of him; but he made a mistake, a serious mistake, be noticed tlic adhesive quali ties of the dough, and thinking ho could maintain a good position there, lie planted himself firmly in tho middle of it, and thus placed himself hors Uu combat. Tom in the meantime prepared to renew the strife; ho approached hia enemy and smote him on the right cheek, and also on the left, tlieii he began to smito and bite in real good earnest, and every stroke brought a yell and ft cloud of fur from his enemy. Of course Smith's cut bore it, audit was easily seen that it began to bore him terribly; but Tom did not cease; he saw liis advantage and improved it to its fullest extent, he pulled hair, bit and scratched, tugged and palled, until his own strength was totally gone, then lie rested from his labors, but ho soon re opened the campaign, until I persuaded him, thro’ the gentle influence of a red out poker, to desist. 1 looked with as tonishment on the damage ho had done to Smith's cat; it’s head and buck hud en tirely disappeared, and its four legs were left sticking in tho dough, which to it had proved most doiighloritie- dolorific- it was dead. Dead in the bread; no kind mother to lift up its head, and no head to hold up either; but its tail was there in the yard. I turned and went into tho kitchen determined to be revenged on Tom for the dettfiU of Smith's cat; I found him curled up under the stove looking so innocent and Vairn. Getting a broom stick 1 approached stealthily until within reach of him, then I drew back aud struck a quick blow, knocking down a looking glass but jinisiiing tho cat altogether. I struck again and missed, caught my foot against the table, overturning it and spill ing all the. glass-ware, dishes, &e., on the floor, making a general “smash-up.” Tom started for the cellar, ami J started too, but someone had placed a scuttle of ashes on the landing, and J tripped and reached the bottom almost us soon as Tom did. This ended my interest in Smith’s oat.— Danbury Heirs. 4.-- A station in a Memphis Printing (iffice Tho Appeal composing-room afforded a i notable event in typographical circles in I this city Saturday and last night, being that of a lady compositor “working at the ease”—the first instance of the kind that ever occurred in Memphis—indeed, it is a very ra!‘o occurrence that women arc seen working at tho printing business, except in some subordinate capacity in the South. Tho event alluded io v,a.s the theme of conversation among the craft yesterday, and as far as we could learn, seemed to be regarded in no other than a favorable light. This is quite a change in the sentiment of the craft toward women compositors, as previous to the war, one of the clauses in the constitution of the International Ty pographical Union positively forbade the encouragement or employment of tho fair sex in the printing business. This objec tionable clause however, has been expun ged, and, wo believe women compositors are received into membership in all cities where Typographical Unions exist, and, when competent, arc permitted to work; and, lie it said to the credit of tho typo graphical fraternity, receive tho same pay ns initio compositors. Tho lady engaged on the Appeal proved by her work that she is an excellent compositor, thoroughly j an fail in all that pertains to the art, and, ! to use a phrase peculiar to tlic composing-; room, “held her own" equal to the most l expert of the opposite sex. She is u mar ried lady, her husband also being a com positor. She “served her time” princi pally in Chicago, and “mid cases” at one time in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where also she was I ho first lady compositor who ever worked in that city. Tho lady canto to this city, in company ,with her husband, about three months ago—he working regularly on the Appeal, hilt she, prefer ring “all day work,” applied at the book | arid weekly newspaper offices for work, j failing in which, she went to work in aj millinery or dressmaking establishment, and struggled along with the exceedingly low wages, until she concluded to brave the com-pieuity necessarily attending night-work, and applied for and obtained work on the Appeal, with the result as above stated. Briuters are, by those who j know them least, regarded as a hard set of: fellows. If those who entertained such I opinions could have witnessed the respect \ paid this lady during her hours of work, j they would have been thoroughly eon- i vincod to tho contrary. In fact, the priu-1 tors express themselves highly pleased with the elevating association. — Memphis A I ppcal. Martin Luther was horn in Eisleben, Saxony, November 10, 1483, and died in the same place February 18, 1546. The house in which he was bom is still standing as also the church from which lie was bu ried. An associotion has been formed in Germany for the purpose of erecting a monument io his memory in the old town and a letter from Dr. Dorner to Dr. of Courade, of Philadelphia, calls the atten tion of Lutherans in this country to the j effort, ali i invites their participation in it. | Cause of Mr. Sumner’s Death. Whatever the proximate cause of Mr. Sumner's death may be, it, js certain, says the Louisville Journal, that the attack of Mr. Brooks upon him had nothing to do with it. It is simply the familiar story of hearty and full living, severe habits of study, and a sedentary life, without a par ticle of exercise. In tho summer season Mr. dimmer occasionally rode in a carri age, but never Walked or rode on horse back, nor did he take any out door exer cise. He went to the Capitol in a street car, and returned the same way. The wonder is that, with such habits, lie sur vived so long as lie did ; but, as lio once Stated to ail old friend, ho had n perfect digestion and physical organization. There can be no doubt that his death was accelerated by tho wounded feeling aud disappointment on trading himself re pudiated and denounced by liis own party, after helping to build it up, and also by the negroes, nml that even in Massachu setts, the I’refmlent, for whom ho had a hearty contempt, was stronger than him telf. A CLOSE STUDENT. Mr. Sumner was a close and constant student. Though a capital off-hand de bater, he usually prepared his speeches with the greatest core and pains. His life was divided between liis library and the Senate Chamber. Ho never went to amusements or lectures, or to parties, lev ees or receptions. Sometimes, but very rarely, ho. went out to dinner. Ho had a number of friends who habitually visited him, and to these as well as strangers he was especially courteous and hospitable, carefully avoiding anything in uttering his own political views which might give of fense. IIIS PERSONAL kSIUNM. Among his special personal friends were Longfellow, Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Carl Schurz, Senator Fenton, Montgomery Blair, Caleb Cushing, the Marquis De Chambnrn, Air. Boutwell, Mr. Hooper, and most of the Massachusetts delegation, Ben Butler being a notable exception.— Rdcent political events had severed Air. Sumner’s friendship with many prominent, representatives in Congress ; and, on the other hand, cordial relations had grown up with a number of such Democratic Sena tors as Thurman, Bayard, Casserly, Stock ton, and others. For Afr. Bayard he fre quently expressed the warmest admiration to gentlemen of the press. HIS PEII3ONAL HABITS. Air. Sumner was unusually accessible, courteous, and communicative, given his own views with the utmost frankness.— No man was more keenly solicitous to know all important political events or movements in progress. Air. Sunnier was connected with no church, and, if he had any special religious views, your corres pondent never heard them expressed. THE PUBLIC PEELING. The Senate adjourned promptly this morning on hearing of Air Sumner's dy ing condition ; but the House of Repre sentatives continued its routine business until about three p. m., when speaker Blaine read a dispatch announcing Mr. Sumner’s death. But all during the day the approaching dissolution of the distin guished public man formed tho almost uni versal topic of conversation at the Capi tol, and every detail of his situation was eagerly sought after. It in presumed that the announcement of the decease will be made in both houses to-morrow, and ap propriate eulogies pronounced ; but what other older will be taken is not known at this writing. PLUCK. Wla< a Man will! n Will nni! n Wooden !/<■§ Can no. A man named John Crib, a citizen of Jones county, at tho breaking out of the war went into the Confederate service and served ill Col. Wart,hen's regiment until the 13th of December, 18(52, when he was wounded at the battle of Fredericksburg. He was sent to a hospital at Richmond, where his leg was amputated. When lie had recovered sufficiently to consider him self out of danger ho came home. After ho had arrived at borne, unfortunately for him, gangieen sot in and a re-amputation of the limb became necessaiy. The oper ation was performed and finally he recov ered. A few days ago, Air. Crib was in Macon, and while here gave substantially the following account of himself; He was a poor man. After he had re covered from liis wound aud for some time after the war he supported himself making aud mending shoes; but. for tho last few years he has been fanning. He managed to purchase a wooden leg, but it did him no good. He knocked it to pieces and mad . a leg which he could use. With out entering into any details of his expe rience iu farming, we will give tho result in a few words. It must be remembered that he began without means and with a wooden leg, and lie lias hired no hands. He now owns a hundred and thirty acres of land in Twiggs county. He raised corn and potatoes enough to do him, and some six or eight bales of cotton. He has two. horses and what farming implements lie needs, all of which are paid for also. He is in debt to no one. He does not know what a crop lien is. What he raises is his own, and lie is on a better footing—des pite his w ooden leg—than many who star ted out with til,* most favorable pros pects of making fortunes. We commend this brief but true narra tive to the farmers of Georgia who are j groaning under oppession of factors’ liens. It is a lesson to them by which they may profit. This man needs no granges to protect him in his labors. He sows and he reaps. The crop is his own. He gathers it—subsists upon it, and is happy. He is more independent than the planter who can make a draft for §IO,OOO. —Macon Telegraph. Two neighbors had a long and enven omed litigation about a spring, which they both claimed. The Judge wearied out with the case, at last said: “What is j tho use of making such a fuss about a lit- ] tie water ?” “Your Honor will see the use j of it,” replied one of ties lawyers, “when j I inform you that the parties- are both milkmen 1” A country editor, waxing eloquent in the description of anew organ, says: “The swell died away in delicious suffoca tion, like one singing a sweet song under tho bed clothes.” I From t)i" Hmitliurn Christian Advocate.] Ministerial Profanity. 1 am much pleased with your editorial on the subject of profanity, and with no part of it more tlmn with that which refers I to the apparently irreverent practice of j preachers themselves, in using with so I much repetition tho name of tho Divine Being. Really, 1 have been shocked by the habit of some ministers who seem to use the name of God as a jkind of expletive. I am sure no irroverntico is intended, but tho effect is certainly bad, and the practice exceedingly reprehensible. When the nameof the Divine Being is bandied about in such a manner, and that too from the sacred desk, it must tend to deminish those feelings of reverence on the part of congre gations, which should be sedulously culti vated by the example as well as the pre cepts of the pulpit. This habit, no doubt, unintentionally but unfortunately con tracted, is decidedly demoralizing—shall T not say sinful ? “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain !’’ 1 have observed that this very objec tionable practice prevails in our church more than in other churches, ji specially the Presbyterian. Wo hold (lootriually, per haps, a closer experimental nearness of approach to God thiol some others do, but how great would be the abuse of it, should we allow ourselves to fall into a loose, un becoming familiarity, in the use of the Divine Name. We have preachers high in reputation as well as high in office, who, f humbly conceive, do not set a proper ex ample iu this respect. For a long time I have felt tho necessity of admonition in order to the removal of this reproach. It may sound strangely, and appear in credible, but 1 have known, in a single sermon, the Divine name repeated not less than fifty times, speaking moderately. The case was so marked on one occasion that 1 was prompted to count, and begin ning after the sermon had proceeded about inh -third of the time, 1 counted, during the remaining two-thirds thirty-six repo- j titions of it, in tile several forms of God. Lord God, etc. Now, this is wrong. H not by carelessness, or intention, winch I do not impute, yet certainly in someway j it does contain the element of disregard of the Divine command, “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God iu vain.” Useless, needless, and too fre- j quent repetition of it must be a violation of the command. 1 would not extend remarks on this pain ful subject, but conclude by asking the prayerful attention and meditation of ministers and members ;o tliis subject. Is there not among us a culpable want of rev erence in using the name of God too fre quently V Layman. Kalonton, February 26, 1.874. [From tlic Danbury News.J A Noble Old Lady. Ono of bur citizens went home the other evening complaining of a pain in liis hack aud a dizziness in his head, and there is no telling what the consequences would have been if liis mothing-iu-law had nut. been there at the time. Shi* unhesitating ly pronounced the disease Cerobro Spinal ALningietiS, sent him to bed at once, arid .set about relieving his Bufferings. She ap plied a square foot of blister-plaster to Ins back, and one of the same dimensions to tho opposite side of his anatomy. Then she prepared and applied a mustard plas ter to the back of his neck, aud adminis tered a half-pint of brandy and pepper in ternally, to produce a perspiration she said. But the patient didn’t improve under this treatment, so the noble old lady decided that he needed an emetic, and gave him a half-ounce of ipecac. The result of this experiment was all that could lie desired in the way of an emetic. Under its reviv ing influence the patient forgot that he had ever had a pain in his back or a dizziness in his head- in fact, he forgot everything for the timo being, except his stomach, lint lie manifested a very intense interest in that organ, and devoted liis time and attention to it exclusively fora couple of j hours, while the old lady stood by and ! held his head in the proper position, and | comforted him with many assurances of a i speedy recovery. The old lady was amaz- ] cd to find that the small amount of brandy that she had administered had expanded into something near a quart of the genu ine article ; but she reserved the discussion of this subject for a future occasion. The minister, having heard of our friend’s illness, called in to consult with him about liis spiritual welfare; hilt the patient’s mind was so deeply absorbed in matters of a temporal nature that the min iate r was unable to ascertain anything very definite ns to his plans or prospects for the future, in case he should die. it is true ho mentioned the name of another world several times during the eouversatou, lint was always in connection with his mother in law, ipecac or blister-plasters, and did not afford much comfort to the anxious minister. Since his recovery, our friends has ex pressed his opinions of mothers-in-law quite freely, and has intimated to one or: i woof Ids friends that his present intention 1 is never to marry another woman that has : a mother, as it is impossible, he says, for j hiui to take a few drinks with his friends | with any degree of comfort, for fear of j being put under the old lady’s treatment for Aleningiotis when he goes home. John Oliver. - - 4.4- Plainer Dressing’. A gossiping New York correspondent, describing some of the literary reunions of the metropolis, notices that dress has been one of the greatest obstacles to the enjoyment of social life there. Party dresses cost so much that thousands of ladies, wives of professional and distin guished men, could not think of coin-* passing more than one or two, and they j must be worn with their expensive aux- j ilia lies upon every occasion. Com pet'- j tion ran so high in the matter of display that it became impossible to send out in vitations for early and quiet evenings. The Brooklyn Women’s Club, whose as semblages comprise the intelligence and elite of that city, made the discovery that the habit of wearing kid gloves was the j bottom of the matter. They therefore J banished, by resolution, kid gloves'from j their receptions; and have since experi- 1 diced no difficulty. Gentlemen wear; afteiraofin coats; ladies such prrtty and sensible toilettes as they wear in the even ing at home - the velvet, sleeveless jacket, the lace ruffles, the tulle bow, with its boutonniere embroidered scarf, adding all t-lio finish required to tho plain silk or euidnncro costume; MISCELLANEOUS ITEM. “Yoit don’t lore me, I know yon don’t,” a id a young married lady to hor husband. *, give you credit, my dear, Tor a keen penetration," was the cons ding reply. A young beau at his sisteFa fcvening party began to sing, “Why am I so weak ami weary” when a little brother brought the performance to a sudden closo by jelling out. “Aunt Mary says it’s be cause you come home drunk every nightl” A western minister told the young iadid ofliis congregation that the first step to ruin was an ostrich feather and n yard of gay-colored ribbon. One of his hearers having occasioned the next day to use some ribbon, asked the clerk for “three more steps to ruin.” Two young men, out riding, wore pass ing a farm-house, where a farmer was trying to harness an obstinate mule. "Won’t he draw?” asked one of tho young men. “Of course,” said the farmer, “he il draw the attention of every fool I hat passes this way.” Tho young man drove on. At one of the Churches, hot long since, there was a great revival going on, and the altar was tilled with mourners. The minister called upon ono of the ljrethern to lend in prayer, hut the brother, from unwillingness or incompeteney, responded: "Let every man pray for himself—those who can’t pray arc fools.” “Hi I where did yea get tlietn trousers?” asked an Irishman of a man who hap pened to be passing with a remarkably short pair tff thniaera Mi. , T got IhetM where thev grew,” was tho indignant, re ply. “Then, by mv conscience," seal Faddy, “you’ve pulled them a year to soou 1” A few days ago a very handsomo young lady entered a dry-goods house ami in quired for a “bean.” The polite clerk threw himself bark nnd remarked he w.w at her service. “Yes but I want a buffiffffk green one,” was the reply. The youii# man went on measuring goods immediate* >y- A young lad fell into a mud-puddle off i curl sfome in Detroit, the other day, a; A he was howling and wailing, when * anoth er boy came along and remarked : “Humph ! J wouldn’t howl just because > fell in the mild.” “That hain’t what J.’-”. howling about,” blubbered the boy. '‘in crying ’cause my brother is sick.” Some travelers were visiting a cavern in Smith America. While tho partv W'-re within, investigating tho gloomy intern* •. there was noticed an old negro standiyi* outside, and ho was asked, “Say, unci’, i why don’t you go in?” "Ah, de hela n ! help us,” said lie; “I see trouble enough on top of do earth, and don’t want to gr< into dat hole a searching arter misery:” What sunshine is to flowers, rfhilpr, are to humanity. They are but trifles to 1 (•' sure, but scattered along life’s pathway tin* good they do is inconceivable. A smih; accompanied by a kind word has bee h known to reclaim a poor outcast, ai change tho whole career of aim man life.— Let, us not, then, be to chary of them, bn l scatter them freely as we go ; for life is too short to be frowned away. “Gentlemen,” said an active auctioneer, who was selling a piece of land, “this is the most delightful land. It is the easiest laud to cultivate, it is so light, so very light. Air. Parker will corroborate tho' statement; he owns the next patch, and lio will tell you how easy it is worked. ” “Yes, gentlemen)” said Air. Parker, “it is very easy to work, but it is a ploguey sight ea sier to gather the crops.” A gentleman who arrived in town a few days since reports the temperance move ment in the central part of the State verV promising of good results. He was an nfe' easiona) imbiber, but signed the pledge' some three wet Its ago, at the solicitation of t he lady crusaders, who cornered him in a r:n loon just as he was partaking of something for his stomach’s sake. That was his lust encounter with John Barleycorn, but, in relating the incident and describing tffff surroundings, he dolefully remarks : “That bright smile haunts mo still.” From Spian. Don Carlos to be Crown in King ■ Lav firm March 5.—A special dispatch t i the Times from Bayonne Contains tho fol lowing intelligence, obtained from Curb * sources: “Don Oarios has announced tha£ it is not his intention to impose a contribu tion upon the population of Bilbao when that place is taken. On liis entrance t . tho city he will proceed to the Cathedral ami be crowned King of Spain. He wi’f swear to support the liberties of the pi e - ph , and will constitute government wiltf (tenoral Lio as president of the Council. An appeal will be made to the foreign I powers to recognize the belligerency ■ f the Carlisle. He will declare the Spa: - I lards exempt from allegiance to any otln :' j gorernment than his own. He will dr,-7 $5,000,000 as the first instalment of the loan previously contracted. BLOCKADE SUSI'ENDED. Washington, March 7. — The Spnni.li • Minister states that the proposed blockade of tho coast of Cantabria is suspended for tho present. SIXTY-FIVE THOUSAND TROOI*S. Alaorld, March 7.—-Sixty-five thonsnmf troops are operating iu tho north against Uio Carlists. EnqliKh News. London, March 13. — The Liberal jour'- miL publish high eulogistic obituary no tires of the late Charles Sumner. The London Times of this morning in a leading article says so long as Mr. Glad stone remains in the House of Commons he is the only possible leader of the oppo sition. Every true Liberal will accept hit? leadership on his own terms. The Daily Heirs says Gladstone’s nnr*i % isa tower of strength. The whole body ol* Iliberals regard him as their natural head. Any other person would only be the load er of a section. At a regular half yearly meeting of the directors of the Bank of England, it was announced that the total expense incurred in the pursuit and prosecution of the tw<Y Fid,wells and McDonald, the parties wild committed frauds upon the bank, was £46,000. The Sanborn Job.— A Washington tel egram to the New York Herald sovs: “The Committee of Ways and Alenr.s will continue the investigation of tho moiety question for some days yet, as they are now determined to sift the mat - ter to the very bottom. They have al ready developed an amount of rascality such ns the country had not dreamed of, even m connection with the infamous de tective business, and the attorneys for the several boards of trade now here say that all has not yet been told. The com mittee of Ways and Means are already thoroughly disgusted with the workings of the law, and would he ready to-morrow to recofiimoml its repeal on the evidence' before them,, but they want to probe’ deeper yet and see how far the mi rettn tile community has been held under ty rannical terrorism by tho detentive special' agents.” NO. 40.