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iSJathinsrille Jldt’antc. A WEEKLT PAPER, Published Wednesday, —AT— Watkinsville, Oconee Co., Georgia. HIXON& SULLIVAN, PROPRIETORS, TE1UIS: One year, : n advance.. ..«! DO Six months............ 06 WAIFS AM) WHIMS. “ My wedding trip,” said the as he tripped his wife’s train. groom, over To annihilate the Indians, says the of Chicago 15. Journal, send them the puzzle Moke than thirty-tbree professional base-ball players in Philadelphia are without engagements. Call you this re the turning prosperity? Oh, the irony 3 of word! ifcSSlil agreed to deed her the whole farm “WuAToivWriw . „ Ra ., ld ? , hard- , complin working Irishman !i at nl - P bt nivir til Main ate •’*i. tbe da y, when a man is tirpfl 6 * ,i Cal * 1 work aIl y at all, at all’’ pur jjr ep si” * rom «',*w ’-he earth in V irginia n; . 6 amount says: ‘ ‘At depth ol a ” , our ' eet hot water is struck, , - , a -, and salt flavor.”— nas a pepper Vonbury Neva. Bliffers says he went the other day to inquire after the health of *he young damsel who lias charge of his neighbor’s dairy and when he asked, “ How’s the milk maid ?” they slammed the door in his face and to.d him to go and ask the cows, who manufactured the article. Ay attempt to introduce one-cent coins in San Francisco is strongly op. posed by the small dealers. It is thought, church however, that noi a person who attend: once on the Sabbath is opposed to it. The churches will have "to in crea-e their pew rates. A loving British wife's postscript to a letter addressed to her husband in New York: “ Dear William, I have pe rused the rolice reiorts and morgue re turns every dav, hoping to see vour 3 name.” " ° “ Well, Ethel, dear,” said uncle his littie an to five-year old niece, “if vou like your new toy, come and put your arms around my neck and give me a kiss.” The little maiden complied, but as she did so she remarked : “ Oh, uncle, how I do spoil you’” r tIe ^ “ he ” g H! rn0r ’ pater ’ overseer ere lm?!! “? re civilized 5d mj We '< ,1 S -the couuwles , behind thev sav “fattier-” ^ w , 7 the ’ age £ Beiaived t> but , unresponsive . fair one— oo g ad to see you, Cousin Charley. a ,?? 11 sit couple y° u of to drop in! Now you a hours with grand mamma, won t you. just to amuse her garden. ' 11 , e ‘ r ^ And U j be f nf careful f lake to a stroll speak as in loud the as you can, for she s very, very deaf, poor dear A Scotchman having hired himself to a farmer, had a cheese set down be¬ fore him that he might help himself. His master said to him, “ launders, you take a long time to breakfast!” “In troth, master,” answered he, “ a cheese o’ this size is na so soon eaten as ye may think.” The enemies of the Czar of Russia will attempt shooting him, blowing him up aud stabbiDg him, and still he will live until some day when he is fooling with a revolver that isn’t loaded, lie’ll get the whole top of his head blown oil. — O l City Derrick. “ W hat are ‘sealed proposals,’ Tom?” Whose Archly asked a bright eved like miss, luouth up-turned, a rose-bud sweel Seemed asking fur a kiss. “ Why, Fanny dear, I’ll illustrate: ’Tis plain as a be; Give me your hand—you have my heart— And now * !■ ’tis sealed-you see?” A good Rochester —Philadelphia Ihir proposed to lady pastor, a widower, since, but a young a short time had the second was rejected. His feeitogs when severe test next day a widow sent him the following text to preach from: “You ask, and re¬ ceive not, beer use you ask a Miss.” We saw a man on Main street this he morning whose legs were so crooked that couldn’t tell his right foot from his left without following his legs down to their terminus .—Bridgeport Standard. Ob, dear! that’s bad enough, to be sure. But there’s a man in Danbury who can’t wear a cork sole in his shoe, be¬ cause his leg is so twisted, it draws the cork right nut—Danbury Neu'a. Oh mercy on us; that’s awful I But there is a man in Whitehall whose mouth is so crooked that every time he spits out of the left side of his mouth it goes round the back of his head into his right ear.— Whit'hall Times. A Bit of Romance. correspondent Many years ago, writes the New York of the Cincinnati Gazette, I passed in my daily walk a store whose proprietor’s name (Ira Perego) attracted my attention by its sheer oddity. Ira Perego made a fortune in the shirt and collar business, and eventually his name apiieared in the mortuary column, and is now only recalled by a peculiar in¬ cident. Last year a German woman liv¬ jf.to ing take in Jersey City adopted removed"bv a little girl the place of a child J death. By advice of her pastor sb*e chose one whose parents had died at Memphis tle orphan of the pestilence, and the lit¬ thus obtained a kind home. It has lately, however, been discovered that this child is an heiress, her mother having been a daughter of the above mentioned Ira Perego. She married a Southerner, the little and their sudden death left waif with no record of her kindred. What a strange thing to all concerned is the fact that this “ Carrie Brown ’ (as she has been called) has a claim on a large estate! The Surrogate has just appointed a guardian to protect her discussing interests, and Jersey City : is now the romantic incident. I - he druggists .. and , chemists of Amer ica have asked Congress to levy a duty ot ten per cent, on quinine. Never 1 Down with the duty on quinine. If anybody wants to eat such nasty stuff, in heaven’s name don’t charge them any thing .—Burlington for it Give it to them fer nothing Howkeye. When Brutus ana Cassius were hr « the girl* u-el to say that ,‘ref,^ Brutewassuch a nice fellow, i.ut changed they h The girls haven’t ' one bit The Watkinsville Advance. VOLUME I. A STRANGE FACT. WlK-re I aiitcui»o 1* I.ikhIc <1 , |, P Brain. 0ne of tbe most suggestive results of r tions ? cent researches, concerning the func of the brain, has been to show tha t t h e faculty of intelligent language, as distinguished , . i . from simply articulate ?P ee ? b > 18 situated in that portion of the “ e “i 9 P h « r f which is called the third left frontal convolution, audits imme¬ diate neighborhood. I sSSpSusS s appIied part of the Key or rabbit, the animal , opens its mouth, and alternately protrudes and retracts the tongue. But far more con vincing proofs have been furnished by numerous cases of disease in which there iM part just named was discovered. A boy, aged five, who was a great ebatter-box, fell out of the window and injured the left frontal bone, which was found de;>resfe j. There was no paraly sis, but the boy had entirely lost his language. The wound healed in twenty five days; but the child, although in telligent, remained dumb. A year afterwards he was accidently drowned, aud at the autopsy it was found that the third left frontal convolution had been destroyed by the injury he htd re¬ eeived. A man fell with his horse, but got up, to °h hold of the reins, and was going to jump into the saddle, when a doctor who Happened to accompany him expressed the wish to make an examination. It ' vas tbeu found he could not speak, but had to make himself understood by pan f °mime. A small wound in the left side of tbe forehead was found, with depris "ion of bone; but there was no paralysis, Inflammation set in, the patient died, ? nd at thejwirt mortem examination it was tound » fra g m ? pt b «>" e ‘'a* peDet * at < : d int( ! tbe th ‘ rd left f {r °ntal con ™ !uUon i . wh ich , had become saft tn £, d j,. i habitually’done T alkl ?,S> , truing ... by the drawing, , left hemisphere etc., are Pianists educate them both equally, h wbile violinists h and «*-»»* violoncello-p'lavers *” “ i™ * »> is probably the reason why it requires T re practice ’ and ia “ ore difficult, to olay the piano. well on string instruments than on A man who has, by disease or injury, lost the faculty of talking, is generally also unable to write; and it is only in exceptional cases that one of these func tions persist while the other is in abey ance. Cases of this latter kind show, however, that there are really two sep -irate centers for the two faculties which are lying very close together, and therefore generally sutler at the same time. If the disease affecting them be still more extensive, the fac¬ ticulation ulty of intelligent pantomime or ges¬ is likewise abolished. Per¬ sons who have entirely lost their language backgammon, may still be able to play chess, and whist and they have been observed to cheat at cards with some ingenuity. in business They may also be sharp matters—facts tend¬ ing to show (hat speech and intellect do not run in identical grooves. How “Tom Jones” Was Fold. [From (Jalagn&ni. j J ones,” We are that told when of the Fielding’s work “ Tom was com¬ pleted, hard the author “ being at the time second-rate pressed publisher, for money, took it to a with the view of selling it for He what it would fetch at the moment. left it with the bookseller, and called upon him next day for his decision. The publisher hesitated, and and requested parting another Fielding day for consideration, at offered him the manuscript Fielding for Thomson, £25. On the his way home met poet, whom he told of the negotiation for the sale of the manuscript; when Thomson, know¬ ing the high merit of the work, conjured him to be off the bargain, and offered to find a better purchaser. Next morning, Fielding with hastened to his appointment as much apprehension lest the bookseller should keep to his bargain as he had felt the day before lest he should altogether decline it. To the author’s great joy, the ignorant trafficker in literature declined and returned the manuscript He to Fielding. next set off with a light heart to his friend Thomson; and the novelist and the poet then went to Andrew Mil¬ lar, the great publisher of that day. Millar, light reading, as was his practice with works of handed the manuscript to his wife, who, having read it, advised him by no means to let it slip through his fingers. Millar now invited the two friends to meet him at a coffee-house in the bookseller, Strand, with wheie, after dinner, the Fielding £200 for great the manuscript. caution, offered The novelist was amazed at the largeness of the offer. “Then, my good sir,” said expected be, recovering himself from this un¬ stroke of good fortune, “give me your hand—the book is yours; and waiter,” continued he, “ bring a couple bottles of your best port.” Before Mil¬ lar died he had cleared £18,000 by “Tom Jones,” out of which he generously made Fielding various presents to the amount of £2,000; and when he died he bequeathed Fielding’s a handsome legacy to each of sons. Lesson in Geology. Wise old gentleman—“ me* Now can anv little boy or girl tell who makes ’be-se irreat rocks?” IJUle hov-“ God ” Wise oM gentleman-” Verv trood ’ ■ and what doe- He make them of ?”' Second little boy—Makes 7 ’em outer little ones” Wise old gentleman—“Verv rttleonlf' well • b but t ! where does he uet ^ the Ixing pause. Little girl—“ K Pounds un the * bie b 8 ones 0 »ir ” ’ . Wise old gentleman perspires ” p _ _ _ Seli inf kisses to -well ,h I,1 i • ? b k itef hi 1Imu • K. uraU,d J h uVkete are issuL^edire™ ™ 4 U T * f favor menta [ y ’ 1 P . lan ’ WATKINSVILLE, (iEORGIA, APRIL 7, 1880. v warning to lonn jinx. NiLinie. Neat one ol Boston's wealthy voting men. nos been mulcted $3,004 in a breach of promise suit and subjected besides to the reading in the court of bis love letters, which were addressed like this: '*My own and only precious little sweetheart,” •• My own dearly “Sweet, beloved precious one.” darling,' “My 1 only Mr. beloved Longfellow one/’ and aflected by the fate of this was so gentleman that he at once composed the following beautiful and intensely prac¬ tical verses, which should be pasted in the hat of every young man in the country: In the twilight’s solemn gloaming Stood a maiden young and fair, Watching W ho anxiously certainly lor some one was not there. Long W hile she her peered into the darkness mind was fraught with fears, And her heavy hanging eyelids ^Showed the marks of recent tears. Oh, the woe that woman suffers; Only Oh, the heart aches and the pangs; i*y partially atohed for her bangles and her bangs. Faithless man, come (o the maiden Who is waiting there for you. Clasp Tell her gently to y our bosom — her she is life to you. Let her roost upon your kneecap, Wlnle Sitting in the old armchair, the end of your coat collar Tangles gently in her hair. Piny Tell it fine, misguided creature; the mnulyn on your knee That to you a guardian angel Will her love forever be. Then he sure to get your letters iOn this }>oiiit depends your fate), For in case you shake the maiden She may choose toTitigate. Never let a heartless Jury See those notelets where you say That the girl’s your tootsey pootaey, For it gives you deud away. When you have those precious missives Burn them, ere the sun has set, Then steer clear of guileless maidens, And you may be happy yet. THE LOW: FISHEKJf Aft. BY A. C. DODUK. He was a lone fisherman out in his boat Waiting for nibbles and watching his float. He had “ fisherman’s luck,” yet his patience was meek: He was good for a day but his boat sprung a leak. And the leak whidk it sprung made hfs boat soon a And the wreck, water rose over that fishermau’s neck. lie could swim not a stroke—there was no one to save— And his fate—so it teemed—was a watery grave. He went under once and he rose to the top— He went under twice—the next time he would stop. Happy thought—he was saved—the last time he arose He snuffed as much air as he could in his nose. Ihen let himself sink to the bottom—no more— And walked on that bottom right out to the shore. — Oil City Derrick. “O, I AM TIRED!” BY RILEY. ‘ 0, T am tired!” she sighed, as her billowy Hair she unloosed in a torrent of gold That rippled and fell o’er a figure as willowy, Graceful and fair as a goddess-of old; Over her jewels she flung herself drearily, Crumbled the laces that snowed on her breast, Crushed with her lingers the lily that wearily Clung in her hair like a dove in its nest. —And naught hut that shadowy form in the minor To kneel in dumb agony down and weep near herl “ Tired?”—of what? Could we fathom the mys Lift tery the ?— lashes weighed up down by her tears, And wash with their dews one while face from lur Set like history, a gem in the red rust of years. Nothing will rest her—unless he who died of her Strayed from his grave, and in place of the groom Tipping Drained her the lace, kneeling there by the side of her, old kiss to the dregs of his doom. - And naught but that shadowy form in the mirror To kneel in dumb agony ‘town and weep near her! A FAILURE OF JUSTICE. A Tull- of «N>w EnieltuKl maflatuile Who Wan Very Fmli Indeed. I have always, I hope, entertained a due respect for the powers that be, but I never fully appreciated the position of those powers till I became one of them myself, by being “ made a Magis¬ trate ” for Middlesex. Such was the common less phrase described by which the thought¬ that throng dignity, but I my accession to need Scarcely say that the correct description of it is that I was put in the Commission of the Peace. It is only men of war that are “ put into commission” on the water, but on land it is different. In ancient old boroughs English and other places where fine customs still survive, per sons who are thus exalted even have a sword girt on them by the corporation or other important body, kneeling, but no such ceremony now ordinarily takes place. the Lord According Lieutenant to modern of the practice (after much mature thought, and county haps prayer) selects the per most honorable and then fitting appoints persons them for this post and simplicity there is by letter. In this, nificance—for those perhaps as much sig who can see below the surface—as in the more ancient forms of investiture. To all outward appearance I was the same man as I was the day before my elevation, “but ah! the difference to me!” In my inmost heart I felt myself a custoe rotubrum, which is nc-t a thing to be met with every day, let me tell you —nor every other day. I did not quite know what it meant myeelf, but—lib c a prolessor prepared of metaphygics—I was quite to let other people know. I caused cockades to be attached to the hats nf my men-servants, so large that, in the case of the page, some said it looked as if the page was attached to the cockade, he which, sentimentally speak ing, plained certainly was not, since he com to my wife of its making him an object study and of ridicule. I sent tor him to my harangued him—as if from the bench—m a very satisfactory and telling three-quarters manner, dismissing him after of an hour “ without a ata ' n U I )0 ' 1 j 118 "mtSf character,” but in floods one one. l'flatter I flatter myself), / 'Thh I do " not seek, unhappy lad, to add to the poignancy of y fit^wlHo/mv ° T Ur P 081110 "’ exceedingly efficacious, “L. 'iZSl'Vr" im ,5 K : rtan t duties, !° to r ? ad Burns > Justice from title page to i ? c f , om wtuch P? ! lne: resulted alter in six slumber attempts—five and the last one so deep and stertorous that it resembled an apoplectic seizure—Igave that U P and f(!, ‘ bw:k u P° n the police re ports, where, after al!, one geta the es sentials. I found it good practice, so a “ de P° rt ment was concerned, to ad drM1 u > or K* n grinders in the »treet, beginning, “ Dx,k here, my man, 1 am ut,on & Magi*trate,” fe* tb and ending with a j < J u '’ « fou rtb w*>on of the 1 lath act of Victoria. Before , I had done they white generally packed up their traps, mice and all, and muttering something is about insensate —which, I sup¬ pose, the Italian mode of expressing penitence—mover’ I off pretty quickly. am very far, 1 hope—notwithstand¬ ing what certain envious people (who have no more chance of becoming Jus¬ tices of the Peace than Members of Parliament) may chance to say—from being rather a desired busybody, but I confess that I pensing justice, an not" opportunity collectively, of dis¬ as it were, upon the bench (where the indi¬ vidual is merged into the majority, or, what is almost as bad, in the minority), but in my own proper person, and at last that opportunity came. It happened, too, in the company of my nephew John from Eton, which was ail the more agreeable to me, as the boy was inclined to be frivolous and needed perhaps to have and impressed upon him a due rever¬ ence respect tor the high office into which I had been inducted. We had been dining out at Christmas time with another uncle of his in the Northeastern district of London, and had been detained by the various amusemenfs connected with that festive season—charades, and gin snap-dragon, forfeits, bitterly punch—till a late hour. It was a cold and snowy night. There was no cab-stand near the bouse and we had started home on foot, with the in¬ tention of picking up the first four wheeler—my “ growler,” nephew called it a scribed though it is nowheie so de¬ in the Act—we could meet with At 12:10 we found one standing at the door of a public house, * which at that hour ought, of course, to have been closed, and to have harbored neither cabman nor any other customer. With the cunning peculiar to those who habitually had defy lights the law, the landlord with put the out the in the house, but crime, he had short-sightedness peculiar to of forgotten that the pres¬ ence the empty cab outside betrayed his transgression. “ Here, John” said I, “ is a clear case of a breach of Cap. 7, section 8, and you shall see how a mag¬ istrate deals with it.” Perhaps it was not actuating only the sense I of duty which was me. was cold and tired and quite resolved upon getting that cab to go home in. “All right, uncle,” replied John, duti¬ fully which enough, sounded but he added something like “ Here’s larks,” for which I saw no appropriateness save of the vaguest kina, in connection with the inclemency of the weather. I pulled out the front-door bell to its fullest extent, and stepped back into the frosty street to mark the effect. There was no sign whatever of move¬ ment in the house; so I rang again: still nothing “ happened. man’s “ John,” said I, as sure as this name is William Wilkin he shall lose his license. He has concealed the cabman on his premi es, and is him probably at this mo¬ ment travention supplying of the law. with Ilis liquor in con¬ dently persuade object evi¬ is to me that he and his family have gone to rest: but he does not know your uncle.” Again I the pealed the with bell and knocked smartly at door the handle of my umbrella. A window oh the upper floor was now opened: “ Well, what's the matter?” inquired a gruff and sleepy voice, or rather a gruff voice that simulated sleepiness. “The matter is,” I said, in the an austere tone, “ that you have got cabman belonging to he this is, vehicle I under your roof, where have no doubt, drinking.” “ You’re a liar,” interrupted the voice with great distinctness. Before I could express my indignation John burst into such a fit of laughter as I should have thought no Eton boy could hate indulged in; a very loud, coarse, vulgar laugh, indeed, I am sorry to say. “ Now, cried vou had better trot off—you two,” the voice at the window. “ It’s carry.” plain you’ve had as much as you can “*Sir,” cried J, -authoritatively,” Jet me tell you I ain a Middlesex Magis¬ trate.” audacious “Oh, yes; a likely story!” was his Barn written reply. “ You’ve got ’fghbury have. Go upon your blazes!” countenance, y° u to And lie slammed down the window, I regret to say that my humiliation of mind, which was extreme, was greatly increased by the misconduct of my nephew, either who, far from expressing sympathy majesty of the law for myself or with the which had been thus outraged in my person, indulged in the night most unseemly hideous,” merriment. I He “ made served (borrowing as the subesquently phrase from ob alit tie book of quotations which I sometimes refer to and find very handy on the bench) with his uproarious laughter, “Come away,” I said sternly; “this innkeerier is evidently drunk. It is more than even necessary to sift this in famous case to the very bottom. We must now find a policeman.” I did not care for the cab now. I was bent on—no, not vengeance—on redress and on the administrations of justice. I would teach this contumacious publican, at whatever personal ineovenience (and it was snowing like mad) that a Magis trate for Middlesex was not to be set at defiance. I believe that the British schoolbody his is allowed to.have [than less rever eoce in constitution any Zulu Kaffir, yet it will hardly be credited that, officer throughout of the that law, painful John search for the was half in hysterics, offensive and perpetually quoting that most observation of the inn k ' !e l* rV ^ wfaic h 1 p ' ,U ' d ^ no sort written oihumor), . “You’vegot ’Ighburv r Barn upon your countenance you have.” U “f ™^ ™* pity th ata Ma *'" tral '‘ cannot commit a person f for contempt of court unless he catches him in court, for a little discipline would have done John good. However, I do not wish to 1 dwell upon any personal matter. At j the 6nd of the next street we found a ; policeman. And John here again being was nearly the cause of my discredited, for no sooner did I observe to the man, by way j of introduction, that I was a Magistrate tor Middlesex than the boy broke out into a fresh burst of laughter, which I caused the policeman to remark: “Had you not better get home, both of you r’ in a very incredulous manner. How ever, 1 produced my card and that very soou brought him to his senses. He ac¬ (which companied us back to the “Seven Stars” was the name of the public house) and there stood the cab in front of it and the inn in darkness, just as before. “ This must be a very old offender,” I said, “ lie policeman.” But did not seem to know whether he was or not, for he only shook his head. Our united exertions at the door —and I will say that John hammered away at it with praiseworthy vehemence —once the window. more brought the laudlord to “ Oh, there you are again, are you,” he said, “and in custody? ThatVwhat generally I comes of ’fghbury Barn.” that was I so obliged speechless with indignation was to get the policeman to speak for me. As for John, he was sit ting vulsions, on the pavement in apparent con¬ with his gloves in his mouth. “ This here gentleman, landlord, is a Middlesex Magistrate: there’s no bloom¬ ing He error about it; I’ve seen his card. says as you’ve got a cabman on your premises “ He’s drinking liar, after hours.” a as I told him before,” was the impudent rejoinder. John here grew worse than, ever, muttering plaintively, “Oh, dear, I shall die.” “No, no,” said the and" policeman, “the gentleman isO. K , you had better give license.” him no sauce, or you’ll lose your “He shall lose it,” I murmured to myself, “as sure as his name is William Wilkins.” landlord, “ Well, all I can say is,” returned the with mitigated gruftness, “ I turned that there cabman out of my hou-e before 12 o’clock.” “ But here’s his cab,” I exclaimed, in¬ credulously. “ Why, l/>r’ bless the man’s in¬ side of it!” me, cried the policeman sud¬ denly—and there, indeed, he was, as fast asleep as a church. Of course John had a fresh convul¬ sion. Mr. Wilkins inquired from the window whether I was quite sure now that I had made fuss enough about nothing, other or whether there was any householder practical joke upon an honest Magistrate, which, should as a Middlesex plify. I like to change Finally, he inquired, with a rapid from irony to earnest, what I aration was going to stand in the way of rep¬ ? I felt myself so in considerably'—I will not say in the wrong, but a victim to misapprehension—that kins I gave Mr. Wil¬ lings a sovereign. judicious I thought live shil¬ was a investment in the case of the policeman, which I gave him to understand was a fee for forgetting that he had ever set on my card. And I tipped my nephew handsomely, be¬ cause, as 1 explained to him, it was Christmas time, when no boy who hoped to be a gentleman ever told tales out of school about anybody, and far less about those connected with him by the sacred ties of blood. I drove home in silence (save for some occasional gasps and gurgles from my failure young companion) meditating upon the of good intentions and on the place miscarriages in of justice that had taken the history of the world. Onr Fashion of Mourning. Visitors to this country are greatly surprised at the long period during which poonie wear mourning and re¬ main in seclusion. The custom must be purely American, for it does not ob'ain elsewhere. In England a widow or widower may, with perfect propriety, divest themselves of mourning attire at the end of twelve months, although, in degree, most cases, while they retain it, in some a longer. for Mourning is worn (or parents one year, but changed to lighter mourning after six months, and the same as regards the mourning in of parents for children. Ex¬ cept the case of widows and widowers, it is not deemed at all obligatory to abstain from society for more than six months, who have although lost children in the case of parents it would be unusual to go to large entertainments before the expiration of a year. Where a parent has died well stricken in years and quite in the ordinary course of nature it would excite no remark were the children to go to quiet dinner parties after three months. A two-years' mourning and seclusion would, in such case, be deemed affectation. Mourning is here carried to such lengths that some people lives really pass a large part of their, in weeping and seclusion, the death of a father, mother and sisteror brother making is an aggregate of five years. It a question thing whether we are not carry¬ ing tne too far. Life was surely not made to be spent in permanent seclusion on account of bereavement, ordinary more especially for those who, in the course of nature, must prede¬ cease us. Thousands of persons would gladly the cut short their mourning but for tyranny of fashion, which arbi¬ trarily sides. rules in this as in so much be¬ “J believe in a personal devil ?” said Mr. Moody, at a revival meeting held in . remote Western city. “ That’s trae, that’s true—you’re right there, stra ger,” said an old farmer, rising in his seat in his earnestness. Whereupon a calm-facerl, placid-looking woman rose from the other end of the pew, took him by the ear, and led him slowly out, and the assembly knew then, for the first time, with domestic that the old thoughts man's mind was filled instead of the hereafter, THEKansasCity Jferabl picturesquely observes that “energy is the ramrod with which a successful man drivesnome the bullet of each enterprise in the rifle of his plans.” “ Bbainb to the front! ” calls tne „ Kansas‘City Time*. Well, here we are 1 . ^ < ;r'T* b,>W Ul< y0Ur fr0Bt aea k— White Ml Times. Gm Hung is the name of a Chinese student at Harvard who is preparing himself for the bar. “Gdllivke’h Travels" have been dramatised. NUMBER 5. j How to Shine In European Society, [Salt Francisco Chronicle. 1 * * * I am speaking now concern¬ ing lightful the experiences of a number of de¬ Once gentleman, Saturday nights at Lady H’s. I a American, on became ascertaining for that was an a time much interested in me. Because I au American he seemed to take it for granted that that I had been under lire, and Because my body I was a lead mine of bullets. was there alive he also assumed that I must have killed some other man who had tried to kill me. “ You have seen some rough tiirrs in California? ” said he. “ Yes, I had.” “ Good many fights?’’ “ Yes, some.” “Ever see a man killed in a fight?” “ Yes, once.” “Hah! Well, now, my deali fellah, hope but you won’t consider me inquisitive, really I’ve a great desire to know more of the details of these personal encounters, pardon you know, and 1 hope you’ll me now for asking such a ques¬ tion, but—did you ever kill a man?” Idiot that I was I said “ No.” He dropped far down me almost immediately. I fell in his estimation. I was to him no longer an object of interest. What he wanted was a red-handed American murderer. He had thought me one. lie had prospected me, an found no corpse on the ledge. I was mere bank of peaceful, bloodless, barren iler clay. 1 panned out neither crime, mur nor blood I could feel, too, what ho thought of me. His face said: “ This man has lived in California half a life time and never killed a man or got killed himself." I managed afterwards to regain a little of my lost standing in tfiis gentleman’s estimation. 1 told him that I was once in California on a jury which tried Texas Jack for murder, and I voted for his acquittal. But this was lustre a mere resulting rushlight from compared to the myself. Young killing before the man Europe, and man, going to ciety,” he there that encountering have killed “ so¬ sure you your man. Kill something; kill a tramp or an editor if you can do no better; carry then your knife and pistol to London; chambers; keep them prominently hung up in your dinners; lay them on the table at club talk pistol; feel absently unit hurriedly know at times about your hips, asif to amid the rockets’ red glure, bombs bursting in air, your Smith and Wes-on isstill there. It pays. My friend, Ranchero Arizona Vacquero, whose maiden name in Amerea is Jones, did it and gained n valuable reputation for a desperado smitten with" occasional spasms ol remorse for the seven men whom he vaguely hinted he had shot through the head. Stephen Gregory’s Air Ship. [Albany Kxj>r<*«».) Mr. Gregory is a tall, red wliirkcred man of about fifty. His face is rather cadaverous, his features are nromineut, and bis eyes are so large and nright that they seem to constitute the most impor¬ tant part of his anatomy. He is a man of apparent intelligence, and while he walked by the writer’s side from North Pearl street to Broadway and. Clinton avenue he told his story with earnest¬ ness, but without any great play of en¬ thusiasm. “ My is built idea of an air ship is feasible, and upon common sense princi¬ ples. The utility of every part of it, except the rudder, has been practically demonstrated, question and there can be no of its entire success. Just as soon as I can build a ship, the cost of which will be about $6,000, 1 shall go to reach Europe and will reach Europe and will London in four days, for I can easily make forty miles an hour, even against “There reasonably adverse winds. * * it is!” * * * It is a unique combination. The ves¬ sel proper is about the size of a canal boat, although sharp at both ends, and with a propelling screw and rudder at both ends. Above the boat ; and attached to it by brass arms, are built on either side of the vessel long cylinders, which are to hold gas. They are lashed to the ship shrouds. not only These by the brass arms, but b v of course, are to supply the buoyancy and to keep the vessel in the air. The boat is to be propelled by means of a screw, and the resisting force is from the air which forms a vacuum in the stern of the ship. The power is supplied by rarified air from an ful engine fed by kerosene. By a skil¬ contrivance there is a leverage on the flanges of the propeller, anti the rudder is worked by means quite dis¬ similar to those used on a water ship. There is also an invention for making the vessel rise and descend at the will of the navigator, and altogether the affair as explained by Mr. Gregory ap¬ pears very beautiful in theory, however faulty “Have it may prove in practice. it?” the writer asked. many persons seen “ A great many. Fully three thou¬ sand pacsons have been to see this model. They nave come from Maine and Massachusetts, from the far West, and from Philadelphia and other cities south of us. Out of all this number all spoke well of it—at! admire its feasibil¬ ity save one, and he is an Albanian, who says it ‘ won’t work’ and when I asked him why, he answered, dog naturedly, ‘ cause it won’t?’ ” A Record of Births. An honest farmer of Caithness, re¬ cording bible, the births of his children in the family wrote: “Betty was born on the day that John Cahill lost his gray mare in the moss. Jimmy was born the day they began mending the roof o’ the kird. Handy was born the night my mother Kitty gaed broke her leg, and the day after away with the sodgers. The twins, Willie and Marget, was born the day barn, alter and Sanny Bremnerbigget his new o-’ Waterloo. the very day after the Battle the Kirsty fecht was born the Keedsmas the night great Peter Donaldson on and atween a south country drover. For bye, the factor. raised the rent the same year, Amiy was born the night the kiln gsed on (ire, six years syne. David was born the night o’ the great speat, and three days afore Jamie Miller had a lift free the fairies.” §ftc Mafhinsrillc Juhrattce. A WEEKLY PAPER, PUBLISHED AT Watkinsville, Oconee Co., Georgia. HATES OF ADVERTISING : OrtA-quare, Fach first insertion................ .. $1 (0 One subsequent ii.sertion................ M One square, one mo tb................... 2 50 square, ti ree months................. 5 f.0 one square, six months.................... 7 fO One square one year........................ JO 00 One-fourth column, one month.......... 5 00 One-four;h column, three months..... H <M) One-fourth column, six months. 15 00 One-fourth column, one year...., 20 00 Half column, one month.......... 8 00 Ha f column, tlnee mouths, 12 <0 Half column, six month?*...... .......v .. 20 00 Hai£ co’uurn, one yea*........ .. 33 00 ... I.f UK It 41a TKRJW FOR MORE SPACI. STAGE AM) ROSTRUM. John Brougham will, on the 7th of have May, be seventy years old, and he will completed his fiftieth year on the .ptage. W. 8. Gilbert and Arthur Hullivan have returned to England. They went Pirates to superintend the production of the Comique, of Penzance at the Opera London. Talking about acting Juliet! When you the Capulet see Mary Anderson coming out on chewing balcony, day her piece of gum on the railing and reach for Romeo, you see acting ’ real enough to craze a Harvard student. Messrs. Sullivan and Gilbert are acredited in the London papers with dividing, Avenue Theatre as their share of the Fifth of f5,000 receipts, the pleasant sum a week. George Eliot, it is declared, has of given permission for the dramatization one of her novels. She U about to travel for the benefit of her health. Mu. D. H. Harkins has been very successful at Cork. In fact, he may be said to have drawn it, as we read that “a crowd of 10,000 people e corted him by torchlight, to his hotel.” Mr. Boucicault appears at the Adelphia The Theater, London, April 5, in Fay-a-lleallac, Shaughraun. His new Iijsli drama, will be produced signifying Ckir the Way, not till September. A celebrated primadonna was asked, the other day, what three things she liked best in the world. “ First of all,” she replied, “ good notices; better still, beautiful dresses; and most of all, tripe and bottled stout!” Miss Minnie Haijk is described as lookingextremely when she dashes pretty and picturesque upon faming the stage in the hist act of the of the Shrew. Pulling off her cloak of black silk, lined with dress pink, she appears in a magnificent of :apphire blue velvet, looped over a skirt of pale blue brocade, into which are woven tiny red and pink flowers. Her hat is a Rembrandt of gray felt hound with gold and trimmed with pink and white ostrich feathers. The latest, and possibly the last, work of the great composer, Richard Wagner, libretto—a is Parsijal festival (Percivale.) Only the drama in three acts —has been printed so far, while the music is to appear during the course of next Mummer, unless Wagner’s untimely death may prevent the execution of hfs plan. The material from which the drama is taken is the well known legend of the Grail. In choosing this subject dilections Wagner has for relumed the to his former pre¬ realn\ of the purely romantic; and indeed no sage is so well adapted fancy for the the free play of a poet’s as story of the Holy Grail, since it is devoid of all National charac¬ teristics. Thus there is a marked dis¬ tinction between this latest work of tendency Wagner and the Ring of (he Nibetung, the of the latter being in spite and partly even on account ofitf super¬ natural Teutonic characters, truly National, yet more than merely German. “Never Heed Worse-Looking Villains.” J !>»:ailwCK«l Nhwh.) The members of the press in this city, though beauty, not Ofipresaed with personal will certainly average as well as far as honosi countenances go as any in the country. Two' gentlemen, Hank of Wright of the Times, and Capt. Brand the Pioneer, whose rectitude of con¬ duct and unimpeachable integrity are known throughout the entire commu¬ nity, amuse themselves during a portion of the day in reporting trials at Judge Moody’s court. Behind a table near his honor, and facing the jury, attorneys and cord, the with public heads in general, bowed thesescribes down, the evi¬ re¬ dences in the various cases, occasionally looking up to rest their tired orbs, then immediately A gentleman resuming their labors. from the rural districts observing them feilerB them, being inquired: tried for?” “What are “What fellers?” asked a by-stander. , “Them hard looking cusses behind that table.” “for “Oh,” replied horses,” a wag who saw the joke, “I stealing thought replied so,” the ruralist; “pretty they’re mean bad lookin’, ain’t they? You bet men. 1 never seed two more villainous lookin’ counten¬ ances.” “ That’s the way they always look,” replied the joker. “Of course, they can’t look no other way. 8ee how they hold their heads down; can’t look an honest man in the face. I’ll bet one of them was the thief that stole my boss.” Jonathan ifnrrell’s JJveljr Career. Jonathan Burrell, of Newton, N. J., has Jail just for been brutal consigned to the County Abraham, a graduate fight with his son a recent of the State Reform School. It appears that the Henior Burrell ordered his son to steal a bag of coal, which was too small game for him, and he went to -the coal yard and bought it instead. The father, en¬ with raged at this conduct, attacked the Burrefl bov armed a large knife. Young himself with a huge pair of shears, defended himself, and a des¬ perate ing encounter took place. The gather¬ crowd seperated the men before any mortal injury was done to either. They are both suffering from their battle. Jonathan is a noteworthy man. He wears a wooden leg, having left the original in Virginia during the war. has Notwithstanding been enabled this misfortune, he to contract matrimony with at leant three living women. When tired of the first, he exchanged wives with another man, giving #2 to boot. After several years he was honored with the heart and hand of a six foot amazon, who compelled 4 him to dismiss her pred¬ ecessor. Kacn wile has contributed a brood of children to the general stock. Home of the children are quite preco¬ cious, and nearly alt ragamuffins. The third wife is complete ruler of the domi¬ cile, and when Jonathan gets on a de¬ bauch she pitches him and all his household goods into the street. flats Laundry lie sharp.— girls are too muck among to Waterloo Observer. This is sad irony.