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THE LADIES’JOLUMN.
[Abr the Baptist Banner.]
To Cousin Cordie.
BT LULA DKA».
May sorrow’s breath ne’er linger o’er
Thy sunny brow,
May life be e’er as beautiful
For thee as now;
May friendship weave a golden chain
Around thy heart,
And naught but what is pure and bright
Be where thou art.
I wish thee this,- and yet I know
It cannot be: *
_ Tears are for all — within each face
Regrets we see;
Their shadows drearily they cast
Oe’r happy hours,
And for us many a thorn they plant
Amid life’s flowers.
Thy feet are treading now the path
Os girlhood’s day,
And joys that fadeless seem doth crown
Thy rosy way;
No tears of anguish now doth dim
Thy laughing eye,
Nor the world’s deceiving splendors leave
Within, a sigh.
I fain would stay their coming, and wish
For thee a life
Os sweet and joyous spring-time, unmix’d
With care and strife;
Would place within thy breast a source
Os gushing light,
‘ To bi am along thy pathway, and make
It ever bright.
Thy childhood days ere long will lie
Within the past,
And woman's sterner duties be thickly
Around thee cast;
May aspirations high then claim
Thy every thought,
And woman’s holy work of love by thee
Each day be sought.
As o’er the rugged sea of Time thy barque
Doth glide along,
I’d have across its waters e’er float
The Siren’s song,
To cheer thee as thy weary hand the dripping
Oar doth ply,
Make the hours of night less dark; more clear
The morning sky.
Dear Cousin, if content you’d gain, look to
A higher power ,
And not to things of earthly mould, that
Perish in an hour;
Steer thy frail barque towards the shore
Where angels wait
To guide thee, faint and weary, up through
The golden gate.
O.rf>rd, Ga., Jan. 19th, 1863.
Leiter to a Stater.
“ Then sorrow, touched by Thee, grows bright
With more than rapture’s ray :
As darkness shows us worlds of light
We never saw by day.”
In the midst of many griefs, when you
were so faraway that I could not tell them in
your ever-listening year, the truth that is in
these lines of Moore has often been very
comforting. I would have told you with
more minuteness of detail than, perhaps,
you would have desired, of the many and
sore trials of spirit it has pleased God to
lay on me; and in thus making you a part
ner in suffering, I might have trusted in
human sympathy as a source of comfort. —
Os all earl hly comforts, it is the greatest
and the best. It is my meat and drink, and
I have longed for it sometimes with desires
that words cannot utter. But he who stops
in the creature, and has his heart cheered
by the voice of human friendship, and is
satisfied, will by and by discover that his
wounds have been but slightly healed, to
break out again with more fatal power.—
Sorrow must be touched by the Spirit of
God to make it bright: nay, to make it
even tolerable. It is not in philosophy, not
in sympathy, not in hope even, that there
is comfort in allliction for the soul that can
not see the hand and thejace of love through
the cloud that hangs above him. Why
must I thus suffer? is a question that reason
cannot answer; it is a mystery grace alone
can solve.
And grace can solve it, —“ Darkness
shows us worlds of light we never saw by
day.” There are attributes in the character
of God that never appear, except to the eye
that is swimming in tears. So there are
graces in the heart o< the believer that are
never brought out t ill that heart is crushed.
The vials full of “odors sweet" give forth
their fragrance when they are broken. This
is the peace that is found in the midst of
trouble. Often have 1 longed to speak it
, to you, and point you to the stars that I
love to look on in the sleepless nights of
my griefs, They are the stars of God’s
promise that I never saw till this darkness
came : stars of God’s faithfulness and truth,
that now are more precious to me than the
northern gem to the lost mariner: worlds
of light that 1 never saw by day, so bright
and beautiful in my sight, that I wipe away
mv tears, and say with a full heart,“blessed
be the name of the Lord."
Vock Brother.
Tliv I.itllv <’lill«l*n Petition.
A petition in the prayer of a very little
child affected me det ply the other day. It
was all his own. lisped in a tone that seem
ed to come from the very bottom of his
little heart, “O, heavenly Father, please
not let the cow hook me. nor the horse kick
me; ami not let me run into the street
when mv mother tells me not to.
I lore is the feeling of helplessness, — stray
ing from his mothei s side, and begirt with
danger even at his own door, bow weak is
the little one. Who shall protect and de
fend him from harm 1 Tempted to diso
bey and forget, and do those things which
he ought not to do, where shall he get
strength to do right? The child, even the
little child, feels the need of help from one
greater than he. greater than even father or
mother ; for no mother’s eye can follow
him every way, and uo father's hand can
Ih» always near to befriend and save.
And tins feeling of helplessness may lead
one to look beyond father or mother, broth
- er or sister, master or mistress, to a greater
than they all. It we have help at ail, we
must have the help of One who sees us al-
W M 10 O O IB AMM BM •
| ways, who rules every where, who, in His
strength and greatness, condescends to e
mindful of us, who will hear us and wi
help us. This Almighty being is God, the
God of the Bible, who has cent his dear bon
to teach us to say “ Our Father,” and to
pray, “Lead us not into temptation, but
deliver us from evil;” but more than all,
has graciously xdded, for the sake of those
who might still think that their children
had no understanding of these things, Suf
fer little children to come unto me, and foi
bid them not.” v .
THE CUILDREN’SjCOLUMN.
The Wonderful Squirrel.
A STORY FOR THE LITTLE FOLKS.
The valley of the Nepperan, so named
from the small, clear river which winds
through it, lies on the east side of the Hud
son, about opposite the upper Palisades.—
One afternoon, 1 was riding with a friend
through the romantic region, now rendered
sacred by the genius of the immortal Irving.
His picturesque description of Sleepy
Hollow, from which we were not far dis
tant, is also characteristic of this locality.—
“ Here were small farms, each having its
little portion of meadow and corn-field; its
orchard ofgnarled and spreading apple-trees;
its garden, in which the rose, the marigold,
and the holly-hock grew sociably with the
cabbage, the pea, and the pumpkin ; each
had its low-eaved mansion, redundant with
white-headed children, with an old hat nailed
against the wall for the house-keeping
wren ; the coop on the grass-plot, where the
motherly hen clucked around with her va
grant brood: each»had its stone well, with
a moss-covered bucket suspended to the
long balancing pole, according to antedelu
vian hydraulics; while within doors re
sounded the eternal hum of the spinning
wheel.”
Our way led us to a cottage winch stood
not far from a dilapidated barn.
As we knocked at the door, a child of
eight or ten summers bade us enter, and led
us to her mother, who sat near a window
sewing.
As soon as we were seated, 1 was sur
prised by something which sprang upon my
knees and darted across my hand. It was
a squirrel; and so admirable were his
pranks, that he might well be called the
“Wonderful Squirrel.”
He was of a red or brownish color, with
a very bushy tail, and a very sparkling black
•ye, and his name was Bunny.
My young readers may well judge of my
surprise, when such a wild, beautiful crea
ture darted across my lap like a lightning
flash.
“ Do not fear him,” said the little girj.—
“ lie’ll not hurt you.”
J ust then I happened to remember that
my overcoat pocket was filled with apples.
These Bunny had smelled, and hence had
climbed over my coat to see where 1 had
stored them. He, nevertheless, kept a
sharp eye turned towards my face, to see
whether 1 was disposed to encourage these
advances towards scraping an acquaintance.
I took an apple from my pocket, and threw
a pie e toward him on the floor. He seized
it in his mouth, and taking his place in a
corner, braced himself up on his hind feet,
spread his tail over his back, and holding
the apple in [his paws, nibbled away with
great satisfaction.
Soon, however, he dropped the apple,
dodged out of the room, and did notappear
again for several minutes. I then learned
from the little maiden, Clarissa, some of
his wonderful adventures.
One day, toward evening, Bunny came ’
into the room, and looking around, said to 1
himself, “I wonder where I shall sleep to
night? It I get upon the table and wrap
myself in the table-cloth, some one may
brush me off on to the floor; or if 1 lie in
the corner, some one may step on me.” So,
casting his eye upward, and seeing Master 1
Charley’s coat hanging on a nail, he climbs «
up, and looking carefully over it, espies the
pocket. “ Aha! ” said he, “ this is a nice I
snug place. I’ll go in here.” So he crawls J
down into the bucket and goes to sleep.
At length Muster Charley comes home, [
gets his supper, and starts for bed. In or- |
der to prevent taking cold, he throws his ~
coat ovet his shoulders, and oft’ he goes with
Bunny in his pocket. Reaching his bed
room, he throws his coat on his bed, and
soon is fast asleep.
Meanwhile Bunny, who had been prettv
well shaken up, and was now awakedout of
his nap, crawled out of his pocket to take a *
survey. Creeping carefully about, he said
to himself, “ 1 wonder where lam now.” ’
At last he comes up near Master Charley’s 1
face, when he says, “Oh! this is Master
ChaHey. All right! I'll just crawl in with I s
him.” So he creeps under the bed-clothes, 1
just behind Master Charley’s back, finds a 1
nice warm place, and goes’to sle?p. ’
“Ah!” says Nora, a bright-eyed little !
' girl, “did the. squirrel really say this? 1
t How can a squirrel talk ? ”
My dear young readers, although squir
j rels and birds have not the gift of human
? speech, they understand each other. God
i has taught them to converse. Have vou
t never seen two pretty little doves cooing
and talking together ? And have you not
- seen a solitary crow perched on the stake of
i a fence, or in the top of some tall tree, as a
s sentinel to the flock, who all fly as soon as
- j they hear his note of warning ?
How astonishing the sagacity of animals!
i Bunny makes his bed of shreds of tow or
l birch' bark, and on a bright morning brings
? it out into the sun and air as careful I v as
any house-maid. He makes it up with his
r paws, and after a time carries it back to his
>’ nest in his mouth. If he has mure nuts
i given him than he wants for present use,
he carries them into the garret of his little
I house, and lays them by for a rainy day.
While thus musing and conversing, Bun
r ny pipped into the room, through a bole
e‘ under the door, and Clarissa brought some
• I walnuts w hich she had been getting for him.
i Seeing them in her hand, he sprang into
> her lap, and prying his little nose between
her soft, white fingers, seized a nut, and
■ then sprang again to the floor, where he
devoured it at his convenience.
Soon, however, he returned for another,
when Clarissa imprisoned him in her hand.
He nestled about with a complaining noise,
trying to escape from her grasp. But she
would not let him go until she had caressed
him with her cheek, and breathed upon him
with her sweet lips.
“ But,” said I, “ does Bunny never bite
you?” “Oh, no!” she replied. “He
will sometimes make believe, but he is only
playing, and will not hurt me.” 1 then
asked, “ When did you begin to teach him
thus, my little fairy ? ” “Oh ! ” she re
plied, “we found him when very small,
about as large as a mouse. He had been
lost from the nest, and Charley caught him
in his hand. He could only drink a single
drop of milk at a time. And thus we
nursed him tenderly, until he could eat the
wild nuts that we gather for him. At night
he made his bed in a mitten, and was small
enough at first to sleep in the thumb.”
Can any of my young readers tell what
enchantment it was that subdued the wild
ness of the squirrel who, in his native for
est, would have bitten the first hand that
had been laid upon him ? Bunny was not
only an illustration of the value of early
training, but also of the power of love.
I had often seen the squirrels playing in
the Valley of the Nepperan ; but never be
fore did I know’ that they could be taken
by a gentle hand from their wild, illimita
ble home, and made to nestle in the bosom
of a little child.
As we rode upon our returning way, we
passed many an old homestead, and now
and then the splendid summer residence of
some merchant prince. The day of Wol
fert’s Roost has not wholly gone by.
The old Dutch farmers, with their enor
mous pantaloons and short pipes, are yet
lingering around the hospitable hearthstone
of St. Nicholas; the milk pans, in long
rows, glisten before the kitchen door, and
the lazy, fat kine stroll down through the
grassy meadows to the river’s brink.
Thus I mused, till I abruptly reached the
place where I was to part from my young
friend, whom I had long regarded with the
affection of a brother.
Many weeks after, I was passing through
the same neighboi hood, and took pains to
enquire after my favorites. Bunny had
been chased by a mischievous cat, and had
taken refuge beneath the hand of his mis
tress, who drove his persecutor away.
But alas ! he only escaped one danger to
incur another. A grim mastiff, passing by,
had seen him playing in the yard, and
opened his enormous jaws, just ready to
devour him. Along the fences he flew, with
the speed of light, baffling his pursuer at
each sudden turn, and disregarding the cries
of Clarissa, who vainly called him to her
arms. At length he gained the forest, and
springing to the trunk of a giant hemlock, ;
in the deepest thicket, was lost in the over
hanging terrace of aerial verdnre.
Weeks after, while I was hunting in this
forest, I beheld two beautiful squirrels play
ing in the boughs of a beach-nut tree. The
squirrel had found his mate. I immedi
ately carried the news to Clarissa, who
searched the forest once more. At last she
found her squirrel. Bunny came at her
call, and nestled in her snowy bosom. But
she released him again, saying she did not
like to take him from his mate.
And now, in the season of Autumn, she
wanders forth in the woods, when the golden
sunset covers the chestnut trees, to gather
in her lap the nuts which the squirrels rat
tie down around her.
thealtaE
MA RRIED,
In Augusta, Ga., on the Bth instant, by
Rev. Mr. Huntington, George A. Jones
and Miss Maggie E. Johnston, of that city.
In Coweta comity, 23d ultimo, by Rev.
Mr. Hall, Isaac J. Jackson and Miss Rosa
Ann Brown.
In Tuskegee, 7th instant, by Rev. Mr.
Battle, Lieutenant S. B. Walker, of Mil
ledgeville, Ga., and Miss M. L. Dillard,
of Montgomery.
THE GRAVE.
pneumonia, in Marietta, Ga., on
the 15m instant, Mrs. J. A. Smith, in the
fifty-fifth year of her age.
She joined the Baptist Church at May
River, S. C., in her eighteenth year. Since
that time, she has been a faithful and devo-1
ted follower of Jesus Christ. Firmly per
suaded that the principles she believed and
adopted were Scriptural and Divine, she
never sacrificed them, however great the i
temptation or strong the influence of eircum- j
stances. For twelve years a resident ofi
the town of St. Marys, Ga., and deprived j
of the privileges of her own church commu !
nion, she did not forget her former pledges,;
nor abandon the cause she loved.
During her residence in this city, her:
* constant study of the Scriptures, regular]
and punctual attendance at the Church-]
meetings, faithful instructions as a Sabbath
school teacher, strong attachment to friends,
generous sympathy for the afflicted, and
with all, her meek and quiet spirit, have
constantly testified to the sincerity and re
ality of her Christian experience/
t is not strange,therefore, that her last
moments were calm and peaceful, and that
she desired to have no will of her own dis
. ferent from the will of God. She now rests
( tiom her labors, and her works follow her.
; , A Friend.
, please cuw _
' Departed thia life on the 2d inst., Mrs.’
Makv E. I kks.lv, of Cartersville. gJ
-(aged forty six years.
• ‘ friend embraced religion in
yearly Ide and joined the Baptist Church.—
. | Iler walk as a Christian was quiet, orderly
> consistent. It was during her protracted
> sickness that her Christian graces were
I fully developed, and shone with increasing
s lustre. Though a great sufferer, she was
pat ient and resigned to the will of her Heav
enly Father. As she had lived, so she died
i Christian. To her, death had no sting,
the grave no terrors. The last words she
was heard to utter were
“ Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are.”
As an infant gently falls to sleep on the
bosom of its mother, so she fell asleep upon
the bosom of Jesus. Though it is natural
to mourn loss of loved ones, and though
her absence is deeply felt in the family cir
cle and among her numerous friends, still
they are consoled by the thought that she
has passed from earth to heaven.
May we die the death of the righteous,
and our last end be like hers. J.
27th December, 1862.
Died, on the 15th of January 1863, in
Americus, Ga., Mary Davis, wife of Icha
bod Davis,in the sixty-sixth year of her age.
She abundantly filled all the stations in
life allotted to woman, as wife, mother,
and friend.
She was many years a faithful and con
sistent member of the Baptist Church, and
a mother in Israel. She gently fell asleep
in the arms of Jesus. She said in death He
was with her, and was “ precious.” She is
now in Heaven, beholding “His glory.”—
Farewell, loved one, I shall soon be with
you in that bright world of happiness and
bliss. Her Husband.
George W. Grlffeth, son of James R.
and Mary Ann Griffeth, is dead.
He was born June 15th, 1843,. in Chat
tooga Georgia; professed faith in
Christ and joined the Baptist Church at
Pleasant Grove in August, 1859; baptized
by Elder Wm. Newton.
Soon after the present war commenced,
the subject of this notice volunteered, and
was a private in Capt. Cooper’s company.
He faithfully served his country in this ca
pacity for some four months, when con
sumption, with which he had been afflicted
for several years, became fully seated. He
was honorably discharged from the service,
returned home, and gradually sank until
the 2d day of December, 1862, when his
spirit took its flight from its frail tenement
of clay to a better world above. He lived
and died in the humble hope of ablest im
mortality, saying to weeping friends, “Meet
me in Heaven.” C. B. Martin.
THE SOLDIER’S I RIIAD,
Devoted to the Intellectual, Moral and
Religious interests of THE SOLDIER, is
published every Saturday, in Atlanta.
Let the Christian, Philanthropist and
Patriot forward their contributions, stating
where they wish the paper sent, and to
what regiment, if they prefer.
Subset iptiwu }>er term of four months,
50 copies, 840; and at the same rate a
larger amount. A single copy, 81,10.
Address, A. S. Worrell, Atlanta.
RAILROAD GUIDE.
Georgia Hailroad & Banking Co
Augusta to Atlanta. .. .171 Miles. .. .Fare $5 50
GEORGE YONGE, Superintendent.
, I
- Morning Passenger Train.
(SUNDAYS EXCEPTED.)
Leave Atlanta daily at 6 10 A. M
Arrive at Augusta at 5 04 P. M
Leave Augusta daily at ft 45 A. M
Arrive at Atlanta at 5 32 P. M
Night Passenger Train.
Leave Atlanta daily at 7 15 P. M
Ariive at Augastaat 5 30 A. M
Leave Augusta at 4 00 P. M
Arrive at Atlanta at 2 05 A. M
This road runs in connection with the trains oi 1
the South Carolina and the Savannah and Augusta
Railroads, at Augusta.
Macon and Western Railroad.
CHANGE OF SCHEDULE.
Macon to Atlanta ... .104 Miles.. . .Fare $4 50.
ALFRED L. TYLER, Superintwdent.
Leave Macon at 10 00 a. in
Arrive at Atlanta at 4 00 p. m
Leave Atlanta at 11 00 a. rn
Arrive at Macon 4 55 p. in
This train connects with Central, South-western
and Muscogee railroads at Macon.
Western & Atlantic (State) Railroad.
Atlanta to Chattanooga, 13S Miles—Fare,...ss.
JOHN S. ROWLAND, Superintendent.
PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Atlanta, nightly, at.... *.30, P M
Arrives at Chattanooga at 4.51, A M
Leaves Chattanooga at 5.00, P M (
i Arrives at Atlanta at 2.30, A M
EXPRESS FREIGHT AND PASSENGER TRAIN.
’ Leaves Atlanta, daily, at 3.00, A M
i Arrives at Cluittiuiooga at
Leaves Chattanooga at 3.15, A M <
] Arrives at Atlanta at 3 35, P M
ACCOMMODATION PASSENGER TRAIN.
1 Leaves Atlanta at ~.00 P. M.
Arrives at Kingston at - - - < t’o P. M.
: Leaves Kingston nt - - - - 5.30 A. M (
- Arrives at Atlanta at - - - - 10.n0 A. M.
• This Road connects, each way, with the Rome
Branch Railroad at Kingston, the East Tennessee .
and Georgia Railroad at Dalton, and the Nashville
& Chattanooga Railroad at Chattanooga.
Atlanta and West Point Railroad, j
Atlanta to West Point 87 Miles Fare f 3 50
GEORGE 3. HULL, Slfekintendent.
MORNING PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Atlanta, daily, al 2.45, A M
Arrives at West-Point at 7.35, A M
Leaves West-Point, daily, at 12.40. P M
Arrives at Atlanta at 5.30, A M
EVENING PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Atlanta - - - 6 00, P. M.
Arrive at West Point - - - - 11.22, A. M.
Leaves West Point .... 2.00, P. M.
Arrives at Atlanta 6 48, P. M.
Tais Road connects with the Moutgomer
West Point Road at West Point.
' CARDS.
w IT Ligon <3k Co.,
WHOLESALE grocers,
AND
COMMISSION MERCHANTS
Corner of Whitehall and, Mitchell Streets
B. B. AMOSS. ° A '
Robert L. CmwieFllS;
COMMISSION MERCHANTS
(Franklin Building,) ’
ATLANTA, GEORGIA.
October 1, 1862.
J. B. Tippin,
Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Foreign and
Domestic
DRY GOODS.
BWYCounally’s.Block, on Whitehall Street,
ATLANTA, GA.
Beach & Root,
IMPORTERS and DEALERS IN
I) K Y GOODS,
(Whitehall Street,)
ATLANTA, GEORGIA.
. ° ct - H 3m
Hamilton, Markley & Joyner,
dealers in
DRUGS, MEDICINES, DYE-STUFFS,
PAINTS, OILS, ETC.,
Concert Hall building, opposite Georgia R.-R. Bank
ATLANTA, GA. 0 25 ‘
A. C. Vail~
SIGN OP MILLEDGEVILLE CLOTHING STORE—
Empire House, Whitehall street,
ATLANTA, GA.,
Has a large assortment of READY-MADE CLOTHING,
and a large variety of Fancy Articles generally. 6c 25
S. I). Allies,
Fire and. Life Insurance
AGENT,
[Corner of Whitehall and Alabama streets,]
ATLANTA, GA. Oct 18
Hughes, Hagan &. Co.,
Manufacturers of and Dealers in all kinds of
ENVELOPES,
ATLANTA, GA.,
Having their new machinery, propelled by
steam (in the Franklin Building), are prepared
to till all orders for ENVELOPES.
Oct. 11. 3m
John Ficken,
MANUFACTURER OF AND DEADER IN ALL KINDS OF
SEGARS AND TOBACCO,
Snuff, Pipes, Meerschaums, Segar-Cases, Etc.»
WHITEHALL ST., ATLANTA, GA.
Oct. 18 3m
D. Mayer. J. Jacobe. J. Kapp.
I>. Mayer, Jacobe & Co.,
AUCT IO N and COMMISSION
MERCHANTS,
For thesale of Merchandise, Real Estate, Stocks,
Bonds and Negroes,
Whitehall Street, ATLANTA, Ga.
vet. t». • 3m
A. C. Wyly &, Co.,
WHOLESALE GROCERS,
AND
COMMISSION ME EC HAN TS,
Corner of Walton and Peach tree sts.,
ATLANTA, GA. O 25
J. T. Porter,
WHOLESALE GROCER,
AND
COMMISSION MERCHANT,-
Marietta St.,
ATLANTA, GEORGIA. 025
Thomas F. Lowe A Co.,
General Commission Merchants,
(exclusively,)
For the sale of PRODUCE, and all kinds
of MERCHANDISE; Negroes,
Real Es’ate, &c., &e.,
(In Daniels’ Block, Peach-tree st., and Winship’s
corner, ditto,)
ATLANTA, GEORGIA.
Thomas F. Lowe. Jisse Lowe, of Lawrenceville.
John C. White. W. Powers.
White A Power#,
WIIOLE SA L E AND R ETAI L
G R O C E R S,
DEALERS IN
PRODUCE, and FAMILY SUPPLIES,
Marietta Street, Atlanta, Ga.
Oct. 18 8m
E. Ml. Edwardy,
WHOLESALE AND RETA L DEALER IN
Groceries, Family Supplies,
AND
COMMISSI.ON AIERCITANT,
Whitehall Street,
ATLANTA, GEORGIA.
Oct. 18 3m
Perino Brown. Thos. P. Fleming. M. L. Lichtenstadt
Brown, Fleming A Co.,
FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC
COMMISSION
(Masonic Hall Building) Decatur St,
ATLANTA, GA.
Advances made on Sugar, Molasses, Wool and
other Produce. Special attention gi/en to the
Texas and Georgia trade. Oct. 11 3m
JunicN McPherson A Co.
HAVE opened next door North of BEACH
A ROCT’B Store on Whitehall Street, a
new and select Stock of
BOOKS and STATIONERY,
Together with an endless variety of fancy arti
cles, such as,
ENG RAVINGS, GO Lt) PENS AND PEN
CILS, WINDOW SHADE SAND GILT
CORNICES, PICTURE FRAMES’,
WALL PA PER, FIRE SCREENS,
RICH CHINA AND PARIAN
VASES, PARIAN FIG
URES, &c., d-r.
Foreign Books imported to order.
Teachers and Merchants supplied at Charles
ton prices, freight only added.
EgT - Picture Frames made to order.
Remember the New Book Store oj
jas. McPherson & co.
Sale,
f'ITY PROPERTY, Negroes; Boys’ Shoes; Rice,
U Varnish, Tobacco, Ac. A “• -eAU ~
n 9 ly conser O s F„rsyth and MitcheU st*.
OnkSquare,one insertion, $1.50; and SI.OO
for each subsequent insertion.