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to Dviglitsinllc -f ♦ VOL. I. DRUG STORE. J. W. BRINSON & CO., DRUGGISTS, Wrightsville, Georgia. Have on hand a complete stock of Drugs and all other artiel» - _„y kept in a First Class Drug Store, Which they ate selling at prices to suit the times, and aro prepared to fill all orders and prescriptions on the shortest possible notice. Dr. J. W. BRINSON continues to prac tioe his profession in its various brances. Office at the Drug Store. W. B. MELL & CO., Wholesale and retail dealers in SADDLES, BRIDLES, HARRESS, Rubber and .Leather BELTING AND PACKING, French and American Calt Skins, Sole, Har¬ ness, Bridle and Patent Leather, WHIPS and SADDl.ERY WARE, TRUNKS, VALISES, Market Square, Savannah, Ga. Orders by mail promptly attended to. A. M. MATHIS, Tennille, Ga., Horse-Shoeing a Specialty. All work intrusted to my caoe will receive prompt attention. Charges reasonable and satisfaction guaranteed in every instance. SMITH’S HOTEL, W. J. M. SMITH, Agent. WrightBville, Georgia. Having lately undergone thorough repairs, this Hotel is prepared to accommodate the public with the finest the market affords. The highest market prices paid for country produce. Miss Anna E, McWhorter, Wrightsville, Ga., Keeps on hand a nice selection of lliry and Fancy Goods such as LADIES’ HATS. RIBBONS, FLOWERS and TRIMMINGS, In endless variety; also a nice assortment ot latest patierns, etc., all for sale as cheap US the cheapest. I am also prepared to cut, fit and make dresses at short notice. Call on me belore purchasing elsewhere. Z. SMITH, Six miles from Tennille, on Wrightsville Road, Is now prepared to make and repair Wagons, Carts, Plows, Etc. I keep constantly on hand a large stock ot Plows anil Chairs, which I am selling at reasonable rates. J. T. & B. J. DENT, Eight miles west of Wrightsville, Ga. Keep constantly on hand a fine assortment ot Pure Liquors, Brandies, Winas, Ales, Lager, Etc., etc.; also Tobacco, Cigars, Candies, Pickles, Oysters, Sardines, and a lull line ot lamily GROCERIES! All of which we will sell at inside figures. Give us a trial. Respectlully, J. T. & B. J. DENT. A. J. BRADDY & SON, AVrightsviele, Ga BLACKSMITH SHOP. A specialty made of Plantation and repaired. Work. Wagons Buggies, etc , Plows and Plow-Stocks of all kinds, and every kind of Wood and Iron Work done by A. J. BRADDY & SON, _Wrightsville, Ga. John A. Shivers & Son, Tennille, Ga., Are now prepared to build, repair and overhaul Carriages, Buggies,Wagons, &c. We also make a specialty of One Horse Wagons. WRIGHTSVILLE, GA., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1880. The Seasons. Spring, brilliant season oi the year, We think, ior divers reasons, That thou art, taken as the whole, The spice of all the seasons. Summer, thou warmest ol the time, That comes with sun and shower, No man can doubt an instant that Thou art the pepper ol the hour. Autumn, sweet evening ol the year, Kicli fruits and grain adorn thy brow. And in thy plenteous harvest gilts The salt ol time art thou. Winter, stern, and cold, and chill, Thou comest biting, bleak and drear, And as we shun thy biting breath We name thee vinegar oi the year. —Steubenville Herald. WILD GRAPES. “ Such a quantity of them,” said the Widow Winton, “and doing nobody anv good!” The golden September sunshine was steeping all the uplands in yellow bright¬ ness; the avant couriers of the coming frost had touched the maples and sumacs with fiery red, and the wild grapes in the woods came freighting the air with sweetness. Such wild grapes, too— great, lined blooming their masses of purple, out¬ if against rank, green leaves, as some enchanted hand had hung all the forest aisles with glistening pendants of amethyst. Widow “ The AVinton, jelly they would make!” said the with hand, shading her she large black eyes one as looked up where the vines had garlanded a copse of cedar trees. “And the preserves! And the price they would bring in market! I really do think that when I rented the Glen Cottage, I ought to have had the privilege of these woods into the bargain, more especially as Mr. Esselmont is in Europe, and the grapes are And doing nobody AA’idow any Winton good.” sigh, the the wind wafted fresh drew a deep of as a gust fragrance toward her—the sweet, inde¬ scribable aroma of ripening grapes in the crucible of autumn sunshine. The AA’idow Winton, be it under stood, was no angular matron or wrinkled old beldame, but a rosy little personage with laughing, of.two sloe-black or thi’ee-and-twentv, long lashed and almond-shaped, eyes, and lips like cleft a saucy, retrousse nose, a rose¬ bud. And as she stood there, with her dimpled rebellious hands resolution interlaced formed above her eyes, a itself in her heart. “I will have them,” said the Widow and Winton; “ as well me And as theschoolboys I the sparrows. if were to ask that crusty old agent, I know he’d re¬ fuse, I’ll so I shall into omit the and little I’ll ceremony. send ’em town, take the money to get me a new fall hat, for mine has been positively shabby ever since the crape got soaked through in that summer shower, ti.ree weeks ago Sun¬ day.” Widow Winton home And the went to the little cottage on the edge of the wood, which had once been a porter’s lodge her to the what Esselmont she had estate, determined and told sister upon. Fanny,” Miss Charity Hail, “ said who was ten years older than the widow, and don’t a good many degrees thing.” graver, “ pray think of such a “ It Why would not?” said stealing!” Fanny. “ be “No, it wouldn’t,” stoutly'argued Fanny. body “There good; and they it’s hang, wicked, doing no¬ any a sin¬ ful shame! And Mr. Esselmont is in Paris, and that cross if old crab of an agent sets up a cry one does but break off a sprig of autumn leaves. No, Charity, there’s and no the use arguing; I’ll have!” the grapes I want, MissiCharity. grapes “ I wouldn’t,” said “I would,” said the Widow little Winton. And she took down a wicker basket. with a twisted handle and a double lid, and tripped off. reach “ How are you going to them?” said Miss shall Charity. climb,” said the widow. “I "You?” cried Miss Charity. “ Yes, I!” nodded the widow. But she was yet engaged in gathering the purple spoils that hung, ripe and tempting, within her reach, when there was a crackling of dry leaves under foot, and a tall young man, in a suit of dark-colored lightly cloth and a Tyrolese hat, stepped into the forest glade. “It’s the new rector,” said the Widow Winton to herself. “To think that he should have blundered along at this very time of all others! But I may as well make the best of it.” And she turned around to greet the smile bewildered and the new-comer utmost self-possession. yyith a sweet “ Will you have some grapes?” said she, holding out the twisted wicker basket. your “but I the stranger; must have mis¬ the taken Esselmont my way. woods.” I supposed these were “ So they are,” said the widow, “and I am stealing the Esselmont grapes—be¬ cause, you see, I’ve rented the little cottage yonder, and I really think the grane3 ought to go with the cottage— don’t you?” “Really,” said the stranger—the AVidow Winton had perceived by this time pleasant that hazel he was tall and and straight, long, with mustache. “ I know eyes sojittle a about silky the property here—” "Oh, of course not!” said the widow, sitting down on a fallen tree, with her little bjack silk apron full of grapes. “ But I can tell you. Mr. Esselmont,who the owns the is property, such is in old Europe; fudge and agent a cross that one can’t ask for so much as a bunch wild flowers—a her bright regular crab,you know!” opening eyes very wide to emphasize the idea. “ How who very had disagreeable!” taken said the stranger, a seat on mossy log. beside the wido w, and eating grapes as if it were the most nat¬ ural thing in the world. said “ So I just concluded to help myself,” the widow. “ So I perceive,” said the hero of the silky mustache. “ Wouldn’t you, if you were in my place?” said the widow. gentle¬ “Certainly I if would!” will said the 1 man. “ And you allow me, will help you to help yourself.” “ But you haven't time,” said the Widow Winton, dubiously. “Oh, yes, I have!” said the stranger— “ plenty of time, I assure you. 1 was only crossing and—” the woods to call on the new rector, The purple clusters of grapes slid to the ground, as the Widow Winton started up in amazement and dismay, “Oh, dear!” cried she; “I thought you were the new rector!” The stranger laughed. “ I)o I look so very clerical?” said he. “ Then you are the agent’s son from Canada!” said she. “Oh, dear! oh, dear! And I’ve been calling your lather a crab, and all sorts of names. Oh, dear! I beg your pardon. I am sure, but all the eame he is a crab!” “ Pray don’t distress yourself,” soothed the stranger. “I am no rela¬ tion at all to Mr. Esselmont’s agent.” The Widow Winton brightened up i li'tle at this. I am thankful for that,” said she. 1 And now, if you will help me with the grapes, we can get them all gathered before the agent comes this way on his afternoon walk. Can you climb?” “I should rather think I could,” promptly The widow answered clapped the her gentleman. plump little hands down in delight, her as the huge bunches rained into apron. “ There,” cried she, “ that’s enough!’’ “ Are you quite sure?” “Oh, and quite,” marmalade, said the and widow—“for jelly, buy bonnet-strings.” to send a lot to town to my new The stranger sprang lightly to the ground, from the boughs ot a stately beech tree. “ Then it’s all right,” said he. “ And we’ve outgeneraled old after Mr. Esselmont all.” and his cross agent, “Haven’t we?” said the Widow Winton, with her black eyes all dancing with mischief. with “And I’ll now, if you’fi come home me, give you a cup of,real French chocolate, and a slice of sponge cake.” “ I shall be very happy to carry your basket for you,” said the stranger, cour¬ teously. he is “ There now,” said the widow, recoiling a little, as they neared the tiny cottage, with its drooping eaves and pillared veranda. “ Who?” said the gentleman. “The agent,” said the Widow AVin ton. “ lie can’t hurt us.” said the stranger. And he walked boldly into the very presence of Mr. Sandy Maepherson, with the basket of plundered grapes on his arm; while the widow followed, much marveling at his valor. But, instead of bursting out into invective, the agent sprang to his feet, and obsequiously. began bowing and scraping most “ Really, sir—really, Mr. Esselmont,” said he. “ this is a pleasure that I didn’t expect.” Mr.—Esselmont!” “ cried out the widow. “ I beg a thousand pardons for not disclosing my identity before!” said the handsome “Incognito.” “But you’ve no idea how I have enjoyed this mas¬ querade. AVill you allow me to in¬ troduce AVidow myself formally AVinton at last?” The turned crimson and pale. “ But I’ve been stealing your grapes,” said she. “ Every fruit and flower on the Essel¬ mont estates is at your service,” said the young heir, with a bow and a smile. But when he went away, Miss Cliarily took her younger sister formally to task. “Fanny,” ?” said she, “aren’t you ashamed “ Not a bit,” said Fanny, valiantly. “Stealing fruit like a schoolboy, and romping Charity. like a child,” remonstrated “If Mr. Esselmont don’t mind it,” said the widow, “why should I? And we’re going and to I shall the haunted springs to¬ morrow, show him the rocky glen. Oh, I can tell you, Charity, it’s great fun!” Hall But, as time crept on, still. Miss Charity grew more uneasy “Fanny.” flirtiDg said Guy she, Esselmont!” “you must leave off with “ “Because AVby P” said the widow. rich; you are poor and he i3 and people are beginning to talk." “ Let ’em talk,” said Fanny. “ We are to be married next month, and then we can set the whole world at defiance; and, Charity—” shoulder. hiding her face on the elder sister’s “ AVell?” “ He say he fell in love with me that day he caught me stealing his grapes!” “AVeli, “Humph!" you’ve stolen said his Miss Charity. heart, so I don’t see but that you’re quits!” Living in New York, 1794. The Tontine house, under the care o Mr. Hyde, is the twelve best hotel in New York. He sets from to sixteen dishes every day. He charges for a year’s board, without liquor, $350 to $400. Butter in the market is 374 cents per pound; beef, compared with the English beet, is poor; fowls turkeys are 624 cents each; common are 25 cents each. Of “Albany beef,” sturgeon, you can get enough for 124 cents to feed a family. Oysters are plenty for three and large. Peaches sell two cents to six of them. All ranks of people smoke Silver cigars six or seven inches long. money is plenty, but eo'd is rarely seen. The population There of the places city is of about 30,000. tainment are in t the no environs ot public enter¬ the city that are much visited in the summer; one is called Belvidere Bundling’s (on Bunker’s hill), and the other gardens.— Magazine <ff American History. A SEW SKETCH BY DICKENS. Mr. Robert Bolton, the Gentleman Con¬ nected with, the Press. Below we make room for one of a series of six sketches—called the “ Mud frog Papers"--written Dickens for in his early days by Charles Henllev's Miscel¬ lany. These sketches Dickens’ have never ap¬ peared in any of published works, and are therefore unknown to the present generation of readers. of the Any¬ thing new from the pen great interest English novelist in the thousands cannot fail who to arouse have been charmed by the great novelist’s works : In the parlor of the Green Dragon, a public-house in the immediate neigh¬ borhood of Westminster Bridge, every¬ body talks political politics, authority every evening, being Mr. the great Robert Bolton, an individual who de¬ fines himself as “ a gentleman connected with the press,” which is a definition of peculiar indefiniteness. Mr. Robert Bolton’s regular circle of admirers and listeners are an undertaker, a green¬ grocer, a hairdresser, a baker, a large stomach surmounted by a man’s head, and short placed legs, on the top thin of two particularly in black, and a man name, who profession and in pursuit unknown, always sits the same position, always displays the same long, vacant face, and never opens his lips, sur¬ rounded as ho is by most enthusiastic conversation, except to puff forth a volume of tobacco smoke, or give vent to a very snappy, loud and shrill hem! The conversation sometimes turns upon literature, character, Mr. always Bolton being a literary and upon such news of that the day as is exclusively I possessed found by talented individual. my¬ self (of course accidentally) in the Green Dragon, the other evening, and being somewhat amused by the follow¬ ing conversation, preserved ten-pound it. “Can you lend me a note till Christmas?” inquired the hair¬ dresser of the stomach. “Where’s your security, Mr. Clip?" “ My stock in trade—there’s enough of Some it, I’m thinking, Mr. Thicknesse. hall dozen head blocks, fifty wliigs. and two dead poles, bruin.” a a “ No, I won’t, then,” growled out Thicknesse. “ I lends nothing on the security of the wliigs or the Poles either. As for wigs!, they’re cheats; I as for the Poles, they’ve got no ca3h. never have nothing to do with block¬ heads, unless I can’t awoid it (ironi¬ cally), and a dead bear’s about as much use to me as I could be to a dead bear.” “Well, then,” urged the other, “ there’s a book as belonged to Pope, “ Byron’s Poems,” valued at forty poinds, because it’s got Pope’s identi¬ cal scratch on the back; what do you think of that for security?” cried the baker. But “ Well, how to d’ye be sure!” Mr. Clip?” “ mean, “ Mean! why, that it’s got the hotter gruff ol Pope. 1 Steal not this book, lor tear ol hangman’s rope; Alexander For it belongs to Pope.’ All that’s written on the inside of the binding of the book; so, as my son says, we’re bound to believe it.” “ AVell, sir” observed the undertaker, deferentially, and in a half whisper, leaning over the table, and knocking over the hairdresser’s grog as he spoke, “ that argument’s sir,” very said easy Clip, upset.” little “ Perhaps, the a flurried, “ you’ll pay for first upset afore you thinks.of another.” “ Now,” said ttic undertaker, I think, bowing I amicably to the hairdresser, “ Mr. says I think—you’ll excuse me, Clip, I tiiink, you see. that won’t go down with the present company—un¬ fortunately, my master had the honor of making the coffin of that ere lord’s housemaid, not no more nor twenty year ago. Don’t think I’m proud on it, gentlemen; others might be; bull hate rank of any sort. I’ve no more respet for a lord’s footman than I have for ny respectable tradesmen in this room- I may say no more nor 1 have for Mr. Clip [bowing]. have been Therefore, born long that after ere lord must Pope died. And it’s a logical inter¬ ference to defer, that they neither ol them lived at the same time. So what I mean is this here, that Pope never had no book, [triumphantly] never seed, felt, never smelt no book as belonged to that ere Lord. And, gentlemen, when I consider how patiently you have ’eared the ideas what I have expressed, I feel bound, as the best way to reward you for the kindness you have exhibited, to —partickler sit down without I saying anything worthier more as perceive a visitor nor myself is just entered. I am not in the habit of paying compliments, gentlemen; when I do, therefore, I hope I strikes with double force.” “Ah, Mr. striking Murgatroyd! with double what’s forceP” all this about said the object of the above remark, as lie entered. “ I never excuse a man’s get¬ ting into a rage during winter,even when he’s seated so close to the fire as you are. It’s very perspiration. injudicious to AVhat put yourself is the into such a cause of this extreme physical and mental ex¬ Such was the very philosophical ad¬ dress of Mr. Robert Bolton, a shorthand writer, as he termed himself—a bit of equivoque passing which current give among nis fraternity, itiated idea must the the unin¬ a vast of establishment of the ministerial organ, while to the initiated it signifies that no one paper can lay claim to the enjoyment of their ser¬ vices. Mr. Bolton was a young man, with a somewhat sickly and very dissi¬ pated expression of countenance. His habiliments were composed of an ex¬ quisite assumption, union simplicity, of gentility, slovenliness, newness and old age. Half of him was dressed the winter, hat the other half for the sum¬ mer. His was of the newest cut, the white, D’Orsay; inroads his trousers had been but the of mud and ink, etc., had given ihcm a piebald appear¬ ance; round his throat he wore a very high stiffness, black while cravatof his the most ensemble tyrannical tout was hidden beneath the enormous fold* of an old brown poodle-collared greatcoat, which was closely buttoned up to the aforesaid cravat. His lingers peeped through the ends of his black kid gloves, and two of the toes of each foot took a similar view of society through the ex¬ tremities of his higblows. Sacred to the bare walls of his garret be the mys¬ teries of his interior dress! He was a short,spare deportment. man, Everybody of a somewhat inferior seemed influ¬ enced by his entry into the room, and his salutation ol each member partook of the patronizing. The hairdresser made way for him between himself and the stomach. A minute afterward he had pipe. taken A possesion of his pint and pause in the conversation took place. his Everybody was waiting anxious for first observation. “Horrid murder in Westminster this morning,” observed Mr. Bolton. All Everybody changed their positions. eyes were fixed upon the man of paragraphs. “ A baker murdered his son by boiling him in a copper,” said Mr. Bolton. “Good heavens!” exclaimed every¬ body. in simultaneous horror. “Boiled him, gentlemen!” added Mr. Bolton, with the most effective emphasis -“boiled him!” “And the particulars, Mr. B.,” in quired lars?” the hairdresser—“ the particu¬ Mr. Bolton took a very long draught of porter, and some two or three dozen whiffs of tobacco, doubtless to instill into the commercial capacities of the company the superiority ot a gentleman connected with the press, and then said: “The man was a baker, gentlemen. [Every one looked at the baker present, who stared at Bolton.] His victim, being his son, also was necessarily the son ot a baker. The wretched murderer had a wife, whom lie was frequently in the habit, while in an intoxicated state, of knocking kicking, pummeling, flinging mugs at, down and half-killing while in bed, by inserting in her mouth a con¬ siderable portion of a sheet or blanket.” The speaker took another draught, everybody looked at evervbody else, and exclaimed: “ Horrid!” continued “Itappears in evidence, gentlemen,” Mr. Boulton, “that on the evening of yesterday, Sawyer the baker came home n a reprehensible state of beer. Mrs, S.. connubially considerate, carried him in that condition upstairs inte his chamber, and consigned him to their mutual couch. In a minute or two she lay sleeping beside the man whom the morrow’s dawn beheld a murderer! [Entire silence informed the reporter the awful that his picture desired]. had attained effect he The son came home about an hour afterward, opened the door and went up to bed. Scarcely (gentlemen, conceive his feel¬ off ings - his of indescribabies, alarm)—scarcely had he taken when shrieks (to his experienced ear maternal shrieks) seared the silence of surrounding night He put his indescri babies on again, and ran downstairs. He opened the door of the parental bedchamber. His father was dancing upon his mother. AVliat must have been his feelings! In the agony of the minute he rushed at his male parent as he was about to plunge a knife into the side of the female. The mother shrieked. The father caught the son (who had wrested the knife from the paternal grasp) up in his arms, carried him downstairs, shoved him into a copper closed ol boiling lid, water and among some jinen, the jumped upon the top of it, in which position he was found with a ferocious countenance by the mother, who arrived in the melan¬ choly wash-house just as he had so settled himself. *<« Where’s my boy?’ shrieked the “ ‘ In that copper, boiling,’ coolly re¬ plied the benign lather. “ Struck by the awful intelligence, the mother rushed from the house, and alarmed the neighborhood. The police entered a minute afterward. The father, having bolted the wash-house door, had bolted himself. They dragged the life¬ less body of the boiled baker from the caldron, and, with a promptitude com¬ mendable in men of their station, they immediately carried it to the station house. prehend'd Subsequently while seated the baker the top was of ap¬ on a lamp-post in Parliament street, lighting his pipe.” horrible ideality of the The whole “ Mysteries of Udolpho,” condensed into the pithy effect ot a ten-line paragraph, could not possibly have so affected the narrator’s auditory. Silence the purest and most noble of all kinds of applause, bore the ample testimony to the barbarity Bolton’s of baker, as well as io knack of narration; and it was o.ily broken after some minutes had elapsed by interjectional expressions of the in¬ tense indignation of every man present. The baker wondered how a British baker could so disgrace himself and the highly honorable calling to which he belonged; and the others indulged in a variety subject; of wonderments connected with the amoDg which not the least wonderment was that which was awak¬ ened by the genius and information of Mr. Robert Bolton, who, after a glow¬ ing eulogium on himself, and his un¬ speakable influence with the daily press, was proceeding, with a most and solemn countenance, of the Pope to hear the pros cons took autograph hat, and left. question, when L up my Size of Countries. T Ireland . , is . about , . the size . of , Ma „ . ne, F rance is more than twice as large as England, AVales and Scotland together Texas is thirty-five times as large as Massachusetts, or as large as Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massaehu setts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, 1 ennsylvania, Delaware, Mary land, Ohio and Indiana combined. The could entire population of the United States be provided for in the State of Texas, allowing each an, woman and child four acres of land.—Boston Tran eerwt A South American piant has been found that cures bashfulness. It should be leaves promptly the hotel tried by the man who because he is by diflident the back window too to say good bye to the cashier and clerk, NO. 20 Cui Bono ; What is hope ? A smiling rainbow Children follow through the wet; ’Tis not here, staff yonder, yonder; Never urchin iound it yet. What is life ? A thawing iceberg On a sea with sunny shore; j Gay, wo sail; it melts beneath us; Weave sunk, and seen no more. What is man ? A toolish baby, Vainly strives, and fights, and frets; Demanding all; deserving nothing;— One small grave is all be gets. —Thomas CarlyU. ITEMS OF INTEREST. Early to bed and early to rise is a very good plan to escape being interviewed by flies. “ Mine, miner, minus ! ” This is the general upshot ol speculation in mining stock.— Paterson Press. It ain’t what goes in, but what goes out of the inkstand that makes the trouble.— Boston Transcript. F’rom 1874 to 1880 Chicago had 13H murders, twenty-two of them occurring on Juiy days and only seven in Febru¬ ary. A man at Champlain, Ill., proudly wears a watch guard made of hair which he pulled from an enemy’s beard in a fight. It is now said that Gesler did not com¬ mand William Tell to shoot there an apple off his son’s head, because were no apples in Switzerland at that time. Words of praise, indeed, are almost as necessary to warm a child into a genial life as acts of kindness and affection. Judicious praise is to children what the sun is to flowers. Some Indians probably used scalping knives of cf tortoise shell, on tortoise account the old fable, in which the was alleged to have got away with the hare. —New York Graphic. A Commercial Travelers’ Car com¬ pany will be organized in Detroit to build ears with restaurant spacious and sleeping accommodations, and compart¬ ments ior the display of samples. A man near Houston, Texas, made $600 per acre this year from the cultiva¬ tion of domestic blackberries. The yield was 3,000 quarts per acre, which sold at twenty cents a quart. AY hen Gambetta delivers a speech he pronounces two hundred and thirty to two hundred and forty words a minute. An ordinary speaker pronounces eighty only about one hundred and words in the same time. Lord hundred Macauley used to pronounce three and thirty words in a minute. The street car was crowded and the driver Gilholyremarked was just about friend: to start, “ Jones when to a is not married yet, is he?” “Of course not. I thought he was not married yet, for 1 saw him carrying home a broom yesterday.” A red-faced woman snap¬ ped her eyes at Gilhooiv and pushed a cadaverous, timid-looking man .—Galveston ahead of her as she got out of tire car News. _ The Family Burse. The money question between husband and wife is one of the most serious drawbacks to married happiness, and it is time it was adjusted The lile on a more just and equal basis. which ot utter lead de¬ pendence some women is crushing and degrading. Men do not realize the utter helplessness and vacu¬ ity to which the system condemns woman. Now, does anybody believe that it is necessary for the welfare of the family that she should go to him for twenty-five cents every time she needs it for car-fare or a spool of thread? Is it right or just to take her imbecility in money matters for granted before she has been tested? Is it not just,'such women, who are left by the their failure of some speculative with the craze burden to of own family re¬ sources, a upon their inexperienced shoulders, who often display wonderful powers of energy and calculation, in addition to thrift and persevering industry, which ought to put all such men to shame? Women, as a general rule, can make one dollar go as far as two in the hands of men; and many conceited individuals, who now consider that social system bounded by four walls of their dwelling would cease to revolve if they were taken out of it, would find great happi¬ ness and great control pecuniary of all advantage the interior in putting fhe details of their homes in the hands of their wives, with a division of the in¬ come equal to the requirement.— Woman’s Joun a Can Yon I Can you toll why men who cannot pay small bills can always find money to buy liquor and treat when among friends? Can any one tell how young men who are always behind with their land¬ lords can Dlay billiards, night and of day, and always be ready for a game cards when money is at stake? Can any one tell how men live and support their families, who have no in come and no work, when others, who !lt -c industrious, are half starved? any one under young ladies prefer a brainless fop, a plus' lisit, with tight pants and a short coat,"to a man with tell why brains? it is that some Can any one for the mothers are always ready their to sew chil distant heathen when own cu-en are ragged and dirty? who . Can any one tell why that a man he cannot is always complaining the local, news afford to subscribe for it from paper, and every week borrows attend his neighbor, can afford to every traveling bIiow that comes into town i " " Moore's „ Branch, , „ Ran., j Asa AVard, of burden of 103 years of has increased the of teeth. age by cuttiffjg a third set