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fflje Caltyoun (fountg Courier* By J. E. MERCER. THE COURIER. ZttBUBHKD EVERT FRIDAY. KuaaoRtPTioir rates. »n* eopy. one year • • •••«»•*<•••*••*«•»» •** as One oopy, six months................. One eopy, three months................... s (kTBIO «.7 IK ADVANCE.) AD TJtRTTMIN8 RATES. Space. If In i m «m|ly 1 Square... * »-•»-* « 28**38 SSSSStW 88BEE- £88883 he ii Column. nib : I -S One Inch constitutes a square, and there are twenty squares in a column. Speolal notices In the local column, ten cents per line for each Insertion. Professional eards Inserted for $3.00 - year The above rates will not be deviated from ae the? have not been made with a view to redaction. Advertisements must take the run of the paper, as we do not contract to keep them In any particular place. Bills are due after the first Insertion, and the money will be called for when needed Short communications on matters of pub ko interest and Items of news respectfully solicited from every source. Alt advertisements emanating from pnb 1; officers will be charged foriu accordance wii" of an act passed by the late General Assembly each Geoigta—75 the cents per hundred words for of first four insertions, and 35 cents for each subsequent, insertion. Fractional parts of one hundred are considered one hundred words; each figure and initial, with date and signature, is counted as a word. JES.SE E. MERCER, Editor aud Proprietor. Railroad schedule. BUSILY UXIMION. leaves Blakely daily at 7:30 a.m-; arrives at Arlington arrives at S:80 at Albany a m.; arrives at 11:80 at Leary at 9:89 t m.; a.m Leave* Albany at 4:20 p ra.; arrives at Lesry St 8:58 p m : arrives at Arlington at 0:57 p.in.; arrives at Blakely at 8:13 p.m. iC County Directory. SUPERIOR COURT. Scm. General; B. B. Bo wer, M. Judge; J. W. Walters. So Hal tor J. Coram, Clerk. Spring term Fall convenes on second Monday Monday in Mir .roll. term on second In September. COUNTT OFFICERS I. A. Monroe, Ordinary: W. W. Gladden Sheriff; E. 8. Jones,Tax Collector: Tiros. K. Cordrny, G. Godson, Tax Receiver; Coroner. O. H, Gee, Treasurer; A. COUNTY COURT. L G. Cartle'tge. Jui?e. Quarterly sessions November. 4th Mondays iu Monthly February. sessions, May, August and every 4th Monduy. OOUNTT SdnOOL COMMISSIONER. J. J. Beek. COUNTY SURVEYOR e. P. Norton. COMMISSIONERS R R. John Colley, J. J. Monro*end J. T. B. Pain Courts held 1st Tuesday in each month. JUSTICES or THE PEACE AND NOTARIES PUBLIC. 574th District—R. J. Ex-officio Thigpen, J J. F P. ; Ch«». Courts F. Biocker, X. P. and hold third Wednesday in each month. 1123d District—J. L. Wllkerson, J. P., John each Hasty, month. N P. Courts held second Thursday la 82ttth Dlstriot—J. O. Prloe, J. P-; N. W. Pare, N. P. Courts held third Saturday in each month. held \aSM first Dlstriot—O. Saturday J. In MoDanlet, eaoh month. J. P. Courts ^lS&ilh DUtrtotj^t organ unch^L P^L A. each mouth. 18 6th District—T. W. Holloway. J. P.; Ken neily Strickland, If. P. Baker County Directory. SUPERIOR COURT. B, B. Bower. Judge; J. W. Waiters, Solicitor General; B. F. Hudspeth, Clerk. Spring term convenes on fltsi Monday in May. Fall term on fiist Monday in November. COUNTY COURT. Jno. O. Perry, Judge. Monthly sessions heid first Mondays—Quarterly sessions. COMMISSIONERS R. R. W. W. Williams, T. H. Oaskie, J. FT. Boddi ford, H. T. Pullen. Courts held on first Tues¬ days in eich mouth. , COUNTY OFFICERS. Ordinary, W. T. Livingston; Sheriff, J. B. George; Tax Collector, R. B. Odom; Tax Re¬ ceiver. J. M. Odom ; Treasurer. X.. G. Rowell; Surveyor, U. D- Brown, Coroner, B. D. Hall. JUSTICES OF THE PEACE aND NOTARIES PUBLIC. 371st District—8. J. Livingston, J. P.; W.C. Odwin.N. t. courts held 1st Saturday in each month. 900t.li District—G. T. Gallnwny. J. P.; T. H. Cathie, N. P. Courts held 2d Saturday iu each mouth. 957th DIitrlM— U. D. Lamm. J. P.; H. P. Johnson, N. P. Courts held 8d Saturday lu eaow month. lis&l District—h. J. Mathle, .1. P-, R E. Mo Culiun, N. P. Court* held 4lU Saturday lu each mouth. Bill Arp’s Adventures on the Farm. Variety is the spice of life, and if a man can get auy fun out of trouble be had better do it. Farming is an ever-changing era" ployment. There is. somethin;; new turns up nearly every day, something unexpected and out of the general run. It amt so with storekeepers, nor carpentering, nor any mechanical business, for with those pursuits one day is pretty much alike another, and lh»t is why I like farming. There is more ple.y for a man’s ingenuity and contrivance and more gratification in his success. If a iai mer contrives a good gate, or a good stall for the stable, or makes a good wagon tongue, gue, or single-tree, ■ r plow stock, he is proud cf his labors aud thinks more of himself. I have been mighty busy of late fixing up fences. Fences are a big thing in these parts, and if a man slot careful it will take about half he makes on his farm to keep ’em mule high and bull strong and pig tight. ] bad about a mile to build this spring, and timber was too scarce to make it all of rails, sol went to work and cut down a lot ci pines for stock, and borrowed a carrying and began to haul ’em tothesaw mill. The pines were on the side of a rocky ridge, and the steers were sorter bu 1-headed and trok all sorts ot roads to get down, and run over saplings, and against stumps, and my old darkey couldn’t do much with ’em, and the iron dogs would come out of the logs when the hind end rolled over a rock, and tbo log would stop apd the steers go on, arid it took all bauds to head ’em with sticks ami thrash poles and make ’em turn around and go back and straddle the log again: we had to swing one big log five times before we got down io the road—and it was “gee Dick,’ and “haw Tom," and "comeback here,” and “wbar you gwine" a hundred times and the key come out of the bow, and the bow drop ped dowu, and old T om thought he was loose aud slatted lor home, and we bad a'time of \t all around. Alter a while I noticed that the dogs were too straight and oidn’t swell around the log as they ought to, so I sent ’em to the shop and bent ’em, and after that we could drive ’em in deeper, and we had no. more trouble on that line—when we got all tbe stocks down to the big road. we be¬ gan to ban! to the mill, and there was a right smart bill to go up. which was tbe only lull on tbe way. Old Tom is a mean old suer. He is just like some folks, he has fits of pulling and fits of not pulling and when he does pull he wants to pull as Lard a, be can. He took a notion that the hill was too much for him, so he wouldn’t go worth a cent; we bawd him, and gee’d him and whipped him, and hollered at him and iwisted his tail, but he Rot Bullen and got down on bis knees and played off, and we fooled away half a day without moving a stock. Then I sent alter the mules and a double tree, and fifth chain, and hitched the mules in front end nil hands hollered "get up there,” and I cracked the long whip and old Torn come down to his work, for he saw be bad help, aud the way we jerked those logs up tbe bill was a cortion. We had no more trouble after that, until the time to go home, and I concluded a ride oil the carry log tongue would suit me pretty well, for Ralph, my fourteen year old boy said it was good riding, aud so I mounted on the little plank seat, and took the lines and tbe whip and give the words of command, and sud¬ denly old Tom took a notion to run away for amusement. It was dewn a gentle grade for a quarter ot a mile, and the re were deep little ruts in the road, and pine roots cross¬ ing it ever and anon and some turnouts around the bad places, and so 1 began to pull on the lines and boiler, "wo, wo, wo, I tell you, wo 'l orn, wo Dick,” but they paid no more attention to me than if I was a big bog in the road. They just went a kiting, and didn’t miss a big s’ump half an inch, and the ruts and tbe roots bumped me up and down like, a churn dash¬ er. I never was scared so bad in my life. Tbe darkey and Ralph come a running as fast as they could to get ahead of the brutes, and that made ’efn worse. I didn’t dare to jump off for fear tbe big wheels would get me, and then there wns those confounded iron dogs with their big hooks banging down and I expected every minute to be jolted off, and have ’em catch me in the slack of my pants, or somewhere else, and drag me borne a mangled and lifeless carcass. I dropped the long whip and let the lines go, when suddenly a turn in the road brought tbe infernal beasts right square up agsinst a wagon that was coming, and they stopped. I left that tongue before you could say Jack R ibinson, and eat down on a log to be thackful. Driving steers is not my forte, and I shall hereafter let all such foolishness alone. The folks 1 ave not got done laugh¬ ing about it yet. Carl drew a picture on his slate of a corrylog and steers and two big hooks a hanging dowu, and a man hugging the tongue, and when 1 came into tne room Jessie was a cackling, and the girls a gig¬ gling, and Mrs, Arp laughing like she had found a circus; but I cau’t see auy more tuu in it than iu a last years bird ’guest. LEARY, .GEORGIA, FRIDAY, JUNE 15, 1883. I am buildirg a fence now, a good fence,' and n cheap fence. We got out one tired chestnut posts, six feet long, in one day, and hauled ’em home. I put ’em twenty two inches in the ground and twelve feet apart; my plank is twelve feet long. The base is ten inches wide, and the neat three six inches wide, and then comes the barbed wire two inches below the top of the post, and this makes the fence just four feet high There is a strip of six inch plank nailed op and down in the middle of every panel, which is nearly as good as if there was a post in the middle. This strip keep. the plank in line, and keeps them from warping The nails sbonld’not be driven in straight in but a little slaniing to make hold better, i built a half mile of this kind of fence two years a; o, and can find no fault with it. The wind can’t blow it dowp and stock never try to jump it. My lumber cost me five dollars a thousand for sawing —my wire cost me half a cent a foot and that makes the fence cost twenty-eight cents a rod besides my labor, and a rail fence can’t be built much cheaper considering the value of timber. Fences are generally made too high and too top heavy, and the wind rocks ’em abou’, and the posts get loose, and the rain drips in and rots ’em. Gates are most always male too heavy—a gate should be made wide, say nine feet, and very light. Use bolts instead of nails at the corners and in the middle of the brace. Dont let the gate swing when it is abut, Let the bottom of the latch-post rest on a piece of scantling, bevel the scantling a little and let the gate slide upon it as if' shuts. An iron roller put in like one is put in a bed post is a good thing, for then the gate will roll up instead of slide up. A gste is opc-n very little compared with the time it is shut, and if it rests on something when shut it will never swag when open. A gate should be no bis her than the fence, but I make my farm gates with the hinge post three feet higher, and run a brace across that one from the other two corners. Pack post well at the bottom, especially op the front aud back. The plank will hold ’em the other way. I think I know right smart about gates and about fencing, but I don't know bow to drive steers, and 1 don’t want to If am.—Bill Arp; To Kill Men Without Pain. A New York man has applied for a pat¬ ent for wbat he terms “An improved device for i xecutiiig criminals condemed to death.” It is a method of causing instantaneous death without pain to the criminal, and without disfiguring his body. It consists of an ordinary arm chair with legs containing some substance which will insulate the body of the chair from the floor. The arms end in two brass knobs, on which ihe hands of the crimii ala will rest. The chair bus a foot rest on which is fitted a brass plate. The back of the chair is a3 high as a man’s shoulders. At the top is a small knob with a hole for a peg. The positive wire cf » dynamo-electric machine runs up the back of the chair and euds in the knob. The negative wire runs to a resistance coil un¬ der the chair, and thonce to a brass plate in the foot-rest. Another positive wire runs to one of the brass knobs on the arms of tie chair, and a second negative wire to the other knob.' The wires can be connected with a machine miles away by conducting wires. The chair is in condition to be used in wo ways, as the two sets of wires are not operated together. If tbe foot-rest wire is used, some pieparations is needed. A smsll silken collar is fitted tightly on the neck of the criminal. It has ou the inside of the back a small brass button, which fits closely against the spina! process. It is connected with a small silk cable, which hangs loosely and ends in <v brass peg. This collar is put on the criminal in his cell in the same man¬ ner as the noose end used in hangings. He is then brought out, with feet bared, and is seated in the chair. Straps fasten his arms to the chair arms and his legs to the chair legs. The brass peg of tbe silk cable is in¬ serted in the hole iu the brass knob at the back of the chair, and is there held by a screw. The bare feet of the criminal rest on the brass plate of the foot-rest, The circuit would now be complete were it not that the positive wire is broken at a short distance from the ebsir, Connection can be establish d at once by turning a switch, or Ly pressing a button. The fuTl charge of electricity enters the criminal’s body at the spinal cord and passes out at his test The resistance coil, which it meets under the chair, aggravates its force,'aud prevents it from injuring the dynamo’ machine on its return. 'jL'iie criminal is killed instant&ne. ously and without pain, as the electricity acts much more quickly than the nerves of sensation—New l’ork Bun. It is impossible for a man to despair who remembers that, his Helper is omnipotent. Overtwo million acres of land in Alabama are still open to pre-emption. A LITERARY CURIOSITY. COLLECTED AUD ARRANGED BY JAS. A. MONK. -A Oh, man, by nature formed tor all mankind. —Akenslde. How narrow are thy prospects, how confined. —Chatterton. Be thou the copious matter of my song. —J. Philip. And let thy thought prevent thy hand and tongue. —Rowe. Poor voyager on this flood or tears, —Jus. Montgomery. \ tong perspective to my mind appears. —Joanna Baillie Storting In view of a glorious goal. —Charles Mackay. To feel tiiat thirst and hunger of the soul. —Longfellow Eager to run the race hte fathers ran. —8. Rogers Oh, what a miracle to man is man —Young. Each to his end adifferent path pursues. -EUt. Fenton Homer with ah his “nodding" I would chuse. —Sara Cobb Time-honored Homer, aged, poor and blind. —J. C. Prince. A ragged cote oft have a royale mlnde. —Nich Bralthwayte. Minds, vest as Heaven, capacious as the sky. —I. A. HlHhouse. Born to lament, to labor and to die. —Prior, And richest Shakspeare was a poor man’s Child. —Ebenezer Elliot, On fame’s eternal bed e-roll worthle to be fyled —Spencer, Already polished by a hand divine. —Somerville. He was not for an age, but for all time. —Ben Jonson. What rage for fame attends both great and small. —Jas. Waicott. He who climbs high and augurs many a fell. —Chaucer. Greatness hath still a little taint P th’ blood. —Daveoaut. Fame is at best but an inconstant good. —Roscommon. When kings have tolled and poets wrote for feme. —Goldsmith. Ah! fool to exult In a glorj? so vain. —Beattie Both right and leift amiss a man may slide. —Nich. Grlmvald. To treat the dreary path without a guide. —Dr. Johnson. The wise sometimes from wisdom’s ways d^ part. —Byion. That oan inform the mind, or mend the heart. —Burns. On high estates huge heaps of care attend, —Webster. No joy so great but runneth to an end. —Rob Southwell. Sooner or later all things pass away. —Southern. Dissolving in the silence of decay. —Dryden. Yet look one& more on nature’s varled,plan. —Laughorne. And moralize on the state of man. -H. Kirke White. Swift to its close ebbs ont life’s litte day. —H. F. Lyte Sent Into life, alas! how brief thy stay. —A. Phelps. Time, sure destroyer, walks his hostile round. —Mallet. Nor is the longest life the happiest found. -F.S. Knight. The visions of hope fly one by one. —Eliza Cook. The sands of time grow dimmer to they run. —E. A. Poe. To know, to esteem, to love and then to part. —Coleridge. Passing away like a dream of the heart. —Herrey. We spend our days like a tale that Is told. — Psalms. To the very verge of the church yard mold. —Tom Hood. OI let me view, while life’s short changes last. —T. Dermody. The end not tar off which is hastening fast •—J. Monk Whilst some affect the sun and some the shade. —Blair. Let us walk humbly on, but undismayed. —M rs. Hemans. There stand, If thou wilt stand, to stand up right. —Milton. He .can’t U? wrong whose life Is In the right. — Pope. When we have shuffled off this mortal coll. —Shakspeare O! hn ppy he whose conscience knows no guile. —Ferguson. A Desirable Husband. Choose a busy man—one who has plenty to occupy his mind aud to talk about. It is the mau with many interests, with engross¬ ing occupations, with plenty of people to fight, with a struggle io maintain against the world, who is really the domestic man, in the wife’s sense ; who enjoys home, who is tempted to make a friend of hi wife, who relishes prattle, who feels in the home cir¬ cle, where nobody is above him, as if he were in a haven of ease and relaxation. The drawback of home life, its containing pos¬ sibilities of insipidity, sameness and conse¬ quent weariness, is never present to snch a man. He no more tires of his wife and children than of his own happier moods. He is no more bored with home than with sleep, ’AH the monotony and weariness cf life he encounters outside. It is the pleasure loving man, the merry companion, w ’10 requires constant excitement, that finds home-life unbearable. He soon grows weary of it, and considers everything so tame that it is impossible for him to be hap¬ py or not to feel that he is less unhappy ther- than elsewhere. The Sue. In any refetence to the physical history of the sun, tbe stupendous magnitude of its sphere must be kept vividly present to the mind. With a diameter one hundred and nine times longer than the earth's, the solar orb looks ont from a surface that is twelve thousand times larger than the one which the earth enjoys. The balk of the sun is one million three hundred thousand times that of the earth. If the surface of the sun were a thin, external rind, or shell, and the earth be placed in the middle of this hollow sphere, not only would the moon have space to circle in its usual orbit without ever get¬ ting outside of the solar shell, but there would be room also for a second satellite, nearly as far -. gain as tbe moon, to accom¬ plish a si nilar course. The weight of the sun is three hundred thousand times that ol the earth, or, in round numbers, two thous¬ and millions of millions of millions of tons. The mean distance of the snn from the earth is now as well ascertained, through investigations which have teen made in several ways, that there can searcriy be in the estimate an error of five hundred thousand miles. The distance at the pres¬ ent. time given, is 92,885,000 miles. This measure is in itself so vast that, ix any traveler were to move at the rate of four miles an hour for ten hours a day, it would take him 6,?00 years to reach tbe yin. Sound would traverse the interval, if there were anything in space capable of transmit¬ ting Bonorous vibrations, in fourteen years, and a cannon bill, sustaining its initial ve¬ locity throughout, would do the same thing in nine years. A curious illustration, at¬ tributed to Prof. Mendenhall, is to the effect that an infant, with an arm long enough when reached out from .he earth to touch the sun, would die of age before it could .become conscious through the trans mission of the nervous impression from the hand to the brain, that it had burned its fingers. In order that tbe earth moving around the t sun with a chasm of twenty-three million miles of intervening space between them, may not be drawn to tbe sun by the prepon¬ derant attraction of its three hundred and thirty times larger mass, it has to shoot for¬ ward in its path with a momental velocity fifty times more rapid than the swiftest rifle ball. But. in moving through twenty miles of this onward path, the earth is drawn out of a straight line something less than the eighth part of at inch. This deviation is properly the source from which the amount of solar attraction has been ascertained. I the earth were suddenly arrested in its on • ward flight, and its momentum were in that way destroyed, it would be drawn to the sun, by the irresistible force of its attrac¬ tion, in four months, or in the twenty sev¬ enth patt of the time which a cannon ball would, take to complete the smae journey. The English National Debt. The national debt first appears as a reg¬ ular portion of the national expenditure iD 1694, though no doubt it had practically existed long before. With some fluctua¬ tions it grow and grew, until at the close of the great war in 1815 it amounted to nearly £900,000 000—more than all the other na¬ tional debts of the world put together. It seems a singular commentary on onr great triumph over Napoleon, that, while France came defeated out of the war with a debt of only about £70,000,000, we who were vic¬ torious, had incurred one of £900,000,000. This enormous sum has been slowly re¬ duced ; but at the present moment, and even after deducting the amouut of the loaus made to local authorities and the purchase money of the Suez Canal shares, it still amounts to £731,000,000. The Americans are setting us a noble example aud paying their debt off with much greater rapidity.—Sir John Lubbock in the Nine¬ teenth pentury. Look not mournfully into the past, it cannot come back again; wisely improve the present, it is thine; go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a uiauly heart.—Longfellow. < Vol. I. No. 46. THE TWO AGES. Folks were happy as days were long, In the old Areadtan times: When life seemed only a dance and song, In the sweetest of all sweet climes. Our world grows bigger, and stage by ; stage, As the pitiless years have rolled, We’ve pallet orgotten the golden age, And come to the age of gold. Time went by ina sheepish way Upon Thessaly’s plains ot yore. In the nineteenth century lambs at play Means mutton, aud nothing more. Our swains at present are tar too sage To live as one lived of old; -do they couple the crook of the golden age With the hook of the age of gold. From Corydon’a reed the mountains round Heard news of bis latest flame; And Tltyrus made the woods resound With echoes of Daphane’s name. They kindly left us a lasting gauge Of their musical art. we’re told; And the Pandean pipe in the golden age Brings mirth to the age of gold. Dwellers In huts and marble halls— From the shepherdess up to queen— Cared little for bonnets, aud lies for shawls And nothing for crinoline. But now simplicity’s not the rage, And it’s funny to think how cold The dress they wore in the golden age Would ssem in the age of gold. Electric telegraphs, printing, gas, Tobacco, balloons and steam, Are little events that come to pass Since the days of the old regime; And, iu spite of Leiupriere’s dazzling page, I’d give—though it might seem bold— A hundred years of the golden age F Tear of the age of gold. Exchange. WISE SAYINGS. We sometimes meet an original gentlemn, who, if manners had not existed, would have invented them.—Emerson. If there be any truer measure of a man than by what he does, it must be by what he gives.—South, Flowers are the sweetest things that God ever made and forgot to put a soul into,— Beecher. A cheerful face is nearly as good for an invalid as heaithy weather. —Franklin. Our youth we can here but to-day, Wc ms? itwt\a fiuu haw to gtvw old: —Bishop Berkeley. Of ail thieves fools are the worst; they rob tou of time and temper.— Goethe. Envy is a passion so full of cowardice sad shame, that nobody ever had the confidence to own it.—Rochester, The best education in the world is that got by struggling to get a living.—Wendell Phillips. All other knowledge is hurtful to him who has not the science of honesty and good nature.—Montaigue. We seldom find people ungrateful so loDg as we are in a condition to render them service.—Rochefoucauld. Dare to be true: nothing can need s lie; A fault, wnica needs it most, grows thereby. —Herbert. The claims of habit are generally too small to be left till they are too strong to be broken.—Ben Johnson. A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed, —Cowper. If satan ever langns, it must be at hpyo crites; they are the greatest dupes he has.— Colton. False face must hide what the false heart doth_know.—Shakspeare. Early and provident fear is the mother of safrty.—Burke. About Bathing. The Royal Humane society of Loivlon has just published a list of cautions to bathers, which may well be referred to the attention ot our readers, at this season whenjbathiug, either in salt or fresh water, will be freely practiced. The rules are not new, but practical and valuable, as follows. Avoid bathing withiu two hours after a meal Avoid bathing when exhausted by fatigue or from any other cause. Avoid bathing when the body is cooling after perspiration. Avoid bathing altogether in the open air if, alter having been a short time in the water, it causes a sense of chilliness with numbness of the bunds and feet. Bathe when the body is warm, provided no time is lost in getting into the water. Avoid chilling the body by sitting or standing undressed on the banks or in boats alter having been in the water. Avoid remaining too long iu the water— leave the water immediately there is the slightest feeling of chilliness. The vigorous aud s’rong may bathe early io the morning on an empty stomach. The young, and those who are weak, had better bathe two or three hours after a meal —the best time for such is from two to three hours after breakfast