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She WtiflIttSBilU Recorter VOL. I. JOBS C. VAN SYOSEL & CO., Wholesale and Retail Dealers in CROCKERY, GLASSWARE, House Furnishing Goods Tin-3?late, Stoves, Hardware, &c.. <feo. MANTFACrUBBES OF TINWARE. No. I 16 Third Street, MACON, GA. HOWTO SAVE MONEY BUT TOUR GOODS FROM J. M. WOOD, Wr ightsville, Ga. deals in DRY GOODS and GRO SERIES, and will sell as low as the lowest, 3alicues, Homespuns, D- illin^a. Jeans, Boots ind Shoes of all kinds. Bacon, Flour, Coffee, Rice, etc., always on taud. Also a nice selection of Millinery Goods, juob as Ladies’ Hats, Ribbons and Flowers ol ill descriptions, and various other things too lnmeioua to mention. Call and soe lor you. - wit. CARHART & CURD, DEALERS » Hardware, Iron & Steel j WOODENWARE, Carriage Material, Cotton Gins, Circular Saws, SCALES, 'I PAINTS, OILS, &c. Macon, Ga. R. J. DAVANT. 3. 8. WeOD, JK DAVANT & WOOD, 114 Bay Street, Savannah, Georgia. Special attention given to sale oi COTTDI.RICE & MATJUL STORES AGENTS FOB DRAKE’S COTTON TIES. Cash advances made on consignments. SID. A. PUGHSLEY, Jr. AGENT AND SALESMAN, —WITH— I. L. FALK & CO., CLOTHIERS, 425 and 427 Broome St„ New York, Cor. Congress and Whittaker Streets, SAVANNAH, GA. WRIGHTSVILLE. GA * ** SATURDAY, DECEMBER 11. 1880. DRUG STORE. J. W. BRINSON & CO., Wrightsville, Ceorgia, Hare on hand a complete .took of Drug! and all other articles usually kept in a First-Class Drug Store, Which they are gelling at prices to suit th« times, and are prepared to fill all orders anc prescriptions ou the shortest possible notice. Dr. J. W. BRINSON continues to prac tice his proiession in its various brancoa. Office at the Drug Store. W. B. MELL & CO., Wholesale and retail dealers in SOULES. MLES, BERNESS, Rubber and Leather BELTING AND PACKING, Fronch and American Call Skins, Solo, Har. ness, Bridle and Patent I.eathor, WHIPS and SADDLERY 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 care will receive prompt satisfaction attention. Charges reasonable and guaranteed in every instance. SMITH’S HOTEL, W. J. M. SMITH, Agent. Wrightsville, Georgia. Having lately undergone thorough repairs, this Hotel is prepared to accommodate the public with the finest the market affords. Tin highest market prices paid for country produce. Miss Anna R, McWhorter, Wrightsville, Ga., Keeps on hand a nice selection oi SLC1I AS LADIE-5’ HATS, RIBBONS, FLOWERS and TRIMMINGS. In endless variety; also a nice assortment ot latest patterns, etc., all lor sale as e.heup ft the cheapest. I am also prepared to cut, fit and make dresses at short notice. Call on mt beloro purchasing elsewhere. z. SMITH, Six miles from Tennille, on Wrightsville Road Is now prepared to make and repair Wagons, Carts, Plows, Etc, I keep constant ly on hand a large stook of Plows and Chairs, which I am selling at reasonable rate*. J. T. & B. J. DENT, Eight miles west of Wrightsville, Ga. Keep constantly on hi nd a fine assortment ol Pure Liquors, Brandies, Wines, Ales, Lager. Etc., etc.; also Tobacco, Cigars, Candies, Pickles, Oysters, Sardines, and a full line oi lamily GROCERIES! All ol which we will sell at inside figures Give us a trial. Respectfully, J. T. & B. J. DENT. A. J. BRADDY & SON Wrightsville, Ga. BLACKSMITH SHOP. Buggies, A specialty of Plantation repaired. Work. Wagons, etc., made and Plows and Plow-Stocks of all kinds, and every kind of Wood and IronWork 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 ot One Sorts Wagons. Dead Leaves. A week ago—how beoutiful! To-day—how sere they Ha I glory of the forest fled— Llko splendor from the sky. I trample on the falling loaves That yesterday, Uke gems, Flashed brightness ou my wondering ejrea. From countless diadems. "’bey answer my heedless feet I With crispness in their tone: “ Tread lightly for the beauty's sake Thine eyes in us have known; We were hut shadows when we glowed In crimson, of thy pride; We etUl are shadows of its fall, And just before It glide I” I would the withered leaves were fait, That I might shun to tread Tlieir dying verdure in the duat With which iny hopes fall dead; For when, in crimson and In gold, My ripened joys shall flume, The brief, bright beauty of the leevea Is theirs—to sere tire same 1 PRESENCE OP MIND I have always been celebrated for my presence of mind iu emergencies. Grandfather used to say that he never had a girl who was not afraid of a mouse or a spider, and how mother’s daughter ever came to be so bravo he couldn’t guess. That was before I married, and, of course, I have not become timid with advancing years. I am Mrs. Jasper Jackman ; my hus¬ band is, of course, Mr. Jackman, and our place is known as Jackman’s Nook. Nook, indeed ! If there was a corner to the world, I should fancy it was put away in that, for it is the most out-of the-way habitation that ever existed. It is, indeed. You can’t seo it until you are within fifty feet of it, for the trees and the nasty rocks. Now, you know I’m not the least bit nervous, but, having lived with father and mother and the rest all my life, I did not enjoy being shut up all alone like a—a—a—well, a hyena in a menag¬ erie, wliile Mr. Jackman attended to busi¬ ness in town; and I often thought if house-breakers were to make an attack upon the house, what should I do, a poor little woman, with no one to call upon ? For I count Bridget as a great cipher in every occasion of life that does not involve soap-suds. I told Jasper that absolutely, if I had known what a place Jackman’s Nook was, I was not sure but that I should have thought twice before refusing old Dr. Muligitawny, whose palatial residence is on Fifth avenue, New York city, as, of course, everybody knows. However, after you have onco said “ yes” to the gentleman who “ pops” the question to you, you may say-“ no” ever after to all other questions, for all ho cares, for he’ll have his own way al¬ ways. Mother-in-law Jackman having made Jasper promise that I must live always at the Nook was considered unanswera¬ ble ; and, after all, what could wo do ? No one would lfiro or buy the place, and we had it on our hands. Of course we lived there. I always knew that doing so would be the cause of my showing the presence of mind for which I am cele brated in my own family—if nowhere else. And so it came to pass. One stormy night in November, in the year 1863—it was the 4th, I think, for baby was just 1 year old on the 1st, and there was some of the cake I had made for his “ bressed ittle birfity birfday ” still left in the pantry, and a cake of that size certainly never would last longer than that in our house. It was he most unpleasant day I ever remem¬ ber to have lived through. The ground was soaked. The bare branches looked like so many skeletons, and the sky was the color Bridget’s tin pans were when I first got down stairs this time last year. In the city it would have been some fun to sit in the window and watch the folks go psst, looking like so many drowned rats, but at tho Nook (I should think it was a nook) there was nothing to be seen—absolutely nothing. I had not a book which I had not read, and the note-paper was out, for Jasper had forgotten to bring me some from the oity, and I had finished all my sewing. spent my time as best I could; but how I did wish that the regiment which was encamped about half a mile away was near enough for me to watch them drill- -if they do drill in such weather. I’d thought them too near before on ac¬ count of Bridget, whom I have caught a score of times talking to men in blue jackets at the gate, and wished them ofl to the seat of war, or anywhere else,’ over and over again ; but that afternoon what a relief they would have been ! I was the more lonely that Jasper had said that morning, “ My dear, if it rains as it does now to-night, I sha’n’t come home, but will stop at your father’s. ” And how oould I blame him in such weather? Yet it was dreadfully lone- some. If you are sociable with your servants they always presume upon it, and I do so love to talk. Of course I watched the clouds with interest. If it should prove fair at last, Jasper would come home, and if it rained he wouldn’t Every now and then there would be a pretense of clearing off, and I began to hope for « pleasant sunset; but it wm always a false pretense, and at tea-time it poured as though there were going to be a second flood. Biddy asked me, as it was so near the Hudson, whether it wasn’t likely to be a-risin’.and whether in that case “we wouldn’t be drowned?” And I said “Yes." It was too bad, I know, but it was really some amusement on suck a day to frighten the stupid girl. I had my tea alone—and I do hate to have tea alone if any woman in the world hates it—and then I put baby to sleep in her cradle in the sitting-room, and took my knitting, and was as comforta¬ ble os I could be under the circum¬ stances, when 1 bethought me of the morning’s paper. .1 called Biddy to bring it to me, and sho came to me at once. “It’s well thought of, missus,” she said, as sho laid it in my lap. “It’s yerself will bo intherested wid the raid¬ in'. There’s accounts of the house breakin’ in it.” “ Of what?" I ejaculated ; and, though I assure you I’m not the least nervous, my heart was in my mouth for a mo¬ ment. “Of the house-breakin’, mum, and how the thaves in the wurreld got into Misther Dinsmoro’s house, that’s sitiated the same as this, neighboring nobody, and tuck all they could lay their hands on, to say nothin’ of half murderin’ the onld gentleman. The saints be above us this night—” There it was, sure enough, headed, “A bold and outrageous attack upon the rcsidenco of Mr. Dinsmore! ” I read it through, and then I said to my¬ self : “Jemsha Jackman, remember your presence of mind. Don’t lot it fail yon fn cases of emergency. ,Should a nonse breaker’toke advantage of your solitude, let him find you prepared.” It wus as though some invisible what’s-liis-name had addressed me from the chimney. I answered, “I will!’’ and you can’t im¬ agine how bold I grew at once. I re¬ hearsed all that I should do in case Biddy came to me in the night, saying, “ Missus, there’s some one in the cellar !” all I should do if I found anybody in the wardrobe when I retired, and I had the satisfaction of feeling that I was prepared. I might wake up to find the spoons gone—I might bo murdered in my bed; but it would be unawares, and the words, “ She showed her presence 'of mind to the last.” I felt quite self possessed and happy, though I was cer¬ tain—yes, morally certain -that some¬ thing remarkable would happen before morning; that I should be, as it wore, weighed iu the balance and not found wanting before the sun arose. I did not feel like retiring early, and sat by tho fire till the clock struck 11. Then, ju’tft as the last stroke died away, Biddy came down from her bedroom like a red-flan¬ nel ghost, with eyes and mouth wide open, and something of importance evi¬ dently on her mind. I put baby down in her cradle and arose, drawing myself up to my full height, mid feeling that I was the only one to be depended upon in this awful emergency. “Bridget,” said I, “how many are they ? Is it one or more ?” “Mum ?” said Bridget. “ The thieves. I mean.” said I. “Oh, it isn’t thaves, mum,” said Biddy. “ It’s only that thafe of a wind that’s took the roof clane off the chick¬ en-house, and there’s the wee bits iv chicks n-stharvin to death wid cowhl.” “And in this dreadful rain, too,” said L “It’s clared off line,” said Biddy, “ and the moon’s up.” “We must go out and put them in the wood-house,” said I. And so say¬ ing, I tucked baby up in her blankets, and, wrapping a shawl over my head, went out into the night air. It had grown very cold, but it was clear, as Biddy had said, and we paddled round in the mud catching the poor little chickens. We had them all at last ex¬ cept one, and we heard its little voice— swee, awee, twee —somewhere, and, of course, could not be so heartless as to forsake it. And at last there it was, tangled up in some dead vines, and as cold as a lump of ice. By the time we gave it to its mother, who was very glad to see it, the clock struck 12. Baby had been alone three-quarters of an hour. “ Muzzer’s darling I sound aaleepy yet?” I said, as I went to the cradle. Merciful powers ! shall I ever forget that moment ? Baby was not there ! In a moment the truth flashed on my mind. House-breakers had entered the dwelling in our absence, and stolen my treasure. Perhaps they were in tire house yet, or some of them. I felt the strength of a tigress, and, leaving Biddy howling in the dining-room, rushed up stairs. Sure enough, there was a light in my bedroom, and I peeped in. The mo¬ ment I did so I felt I was powerless. The robber who had stolen my baby was there, and the terribly muddy boots of another were sticking from under the bed; and, oh, horrors 1 another had got into it, and had hidden, os he imagined, under the quilts. Ou my presence of mind depended the recovery of my child and my own life. In a moment the plan flashed upon me. There was but one door to the room, and the windows were high and barred, for I had contemplated the time when baby should be large enough to climb up and lean out. Noiselessly and suddenly I drew that door to and locked it on the outside; then, with the key in my hand, and trembling like an aspen leaf, I stole down stairs and cried to Bridget, “I’ve locked them in; they shall give my baby buck ; come with me!” and away I went across the garden and down the road to the first house. That was “ Mulligan’s Tavern,” a very low place, indeed, shunned by all re¬ spectable folk ; but I knew there were always men there who were afraid of no¬ body. The greatest brutes would not refuse aid to a woman at such, a time. As we came near I saw a light in one of the windows, and heard voices and loud laughter. It was no time for cere¬ mony, so I burst the door open and ran in. There were four men playing cards, aud old Mrs. Mulligan behind the bar. “ O! please excuse me,” I cried; “but do come right away. There are house¬ breakers in my house, and they’ve sto¬ len my baby ." “ Stholo the baby ?” eried old Mrs. Mulligan. “ 0, do come !” I implored. “ Go, Pat,” said the old woman; “never mind the game. It’s Missus Jackman ; more betoken she’s the next neighbor to us. Take yer pistols, an’ away wid ye, Ixjys. An’, missus, just take a drop of screechin’ hot whisky to kape the life in je.” Of course I refused the latter offer, but in a moment the men were on their fee t, and I felt like blessing them—those half-savage creatures -who had become my protectors. I don’t know how we got to the house, or up-stairs. I remember an awful tu* mult, a smell of gunpowder, oaths and shouts. Then there was silence—then a loud laugh. “It’s thrue, boys !” said old Mulli¬ gan's voice. “I know Misther Jackman, an’ it’s himself. It’s a great misthake— that’s nil." A singular mistake to enter a man’s house, and endeavor to shoot him in his own bed 1” said a voice I knew to be my husband’* ; and at that I rushed into the room. He was there, and so wus baby, for he held her in his arms ; and there, also, was Mulligan and liis friends and their pistols, and half the furniture was broken and the stove upset But as for the house-breakers, they—I began to see the truth. Mr. Mulligan was back ing out. “I’ll lave Mrs. Jackman to explain,” he said. “An’ I’m proud I didn’t kill ye, though it’s out o’ friendship I’d have done it; for if your' own wife took ye for a house-breaker how would I know better ? The top o’ the night till ye, au’ I’ll lave the lady to explain. ” Ah! I did really wish that the ground would open and swallow me. You see, my husband had come home while we were hunting up the chickens, and, find¬ ing baby wide awake, had taken her up to bed, and gone to. sleep. And the robber under the bed was his muddy boots, with, of course, no feet in them ; and well there were none, for they were riddled with bullet holes. Mr. Mulli¬ gan had fired at them, fortunately. When I thought of the awful danger Jasper and the baby had been in, I went into strong hysterics at ones, and fright .ened Jasper so that he was glad to for givo me when I came to myself. It was a terrible mistake, and might have end¬ ed seriously, of course ; but I will »ay, now and always, that it was Jasper’s fault, and that if he had been a house¬ breaker we might all have been thank¬ ful for my great presence of mind. “ What does a woman want to nut on gloves in hot weather for?” asks a ms e s ibseribcr. Why, to keep her hand in, -tipid.-UostoM Post. NO. 30. Porcelain Manufacture. In 1773 the first porcelain factory wot established at Limoges by Messrs. Mas sier, Fourueyra & Grellet, under the pro¬ tection of the wise and liberal Iatendant Turgot. It is the decoration of the por celain that gives it its value as well as its charm. Its manufacture is comparative¬ ly easy and simple. The kaolin, a dry, whitish-yellow clay, is first taken iu lumps from the quarry and carried to one or the other of the numerous mills lining the Vienne, where it is ground fine and reduced to a liquid paste closely resembling bread-dough. In this shape it is carried in sacks to the factory, where, having been again worked over to secure fineness and pliability, it is ready for the molder’s or the turner's hands. Nothing can exceed the deftness and skill with which, under the magic touch of the experienced work¬ man, shapeless lumps of this prepared clay are fashioned into cups, dishes, vases and every conceivable lorm of the most delicate pottery. It is so quickly done, too! One handy operative can make two hundred cups a day. Once molded into shape, the piece of pottery is dipped into liquid enamel which gives it hardness and brilliancy. It receives too the stamp of the manufacturer. It is then placed in what is called a gazette to be put into an oven to bake. The gazette j is composed of a pair of deep earthen saucers fitting tightly together and form¬ ing a circular box, varying in dimen¬ sions according to the sizes of the objects to be baked. The greater part of those : n use are little larger than an ordinary soup-plate. In this gazette the piece of porcelain is hermetically sealed up, and then it goes into the oven with thou • sands of other gazettes, until the great circular furnace, twenty feet in diameter and two stories high, is packed full from side to side and from bottom to top. Then the doors are closed, the fires are lit, and for a period varying from thirty four to fifty horn’s the baking process goes on at a temperature of 3200°. Even alter the fires are extinguished the heat in the furnace remains intense, and twelve hours more must elapse before it, subsides sufficiently to permit the work¬ men to enter, remove and open the gazettes, take out the porcelains, which are now hard and brilliant, and send them to the artists for decoration. There are in all some seventy of these ovens in Limoges, with an average capacity of six thousand pieces. As most of them are kept going night and day, the reader can form some idea of the amount daily man¬ ufactured. But thus far we have only followed the process through its homlier stages. The decorative work, yet to come, is the most delicate as it is the most interesting. But not every piece of porcelain that comes out of the oven reaches the deco¬ rator’s hands. Of every hundred pieces baked, an average of twenty-five are thrown out as inferior, and the remain¬ ing seventy-five are divided or sorted out into four grades, known as second choice, choice, elite and special, in the average proportion of thirty, twenty-five, fifteen and five to eacli class respectively. The special is employed only for very rich decorations; elite is recommended for best selection; the choice is for ordinary usage; and the second choice is of such fair quality as to be pronounced less im perfect than the best porcelain sent from China and Japan, and specially recom mended as the most economical pottery, The price of decoration varies according o the selection of porcelain to which if ‘ a applied. Thus, for instance, the low¬ er grades of artists are employed upon the second-choice porcelain, while the best paintere and decorators work upon ^ 1C ’ *^ ie 8 P e<: bl * 3 0 ^ly given to urt , ‘ sts ^ ie rnost exceptional merit, llie venous artiste, painters and decora, tors, are paid salaries which, according to the French standard, are considered munificent, though they sound small enough to American ears. Much of the decorating, such as flowers, birds, vines, etc., is done by laying the paper designs upon the porcelain and painting ovei them. The gilding is more laborious, and enormous quantities of pure gold leaf are used. The gold, once laid on, can only become permamently part and parcel of the porcelain by being subjected to an additional six hours’ baking at « torn Denature of 800° Reaumur Marie Makcal took a walk in New Orleans with a rival of the man whom she was soon to marry, in order to tell him that he must cease his attentions. Her affianced husband saw them to¬ gether, and, refusing to hear her expla¬ nation, peremptorily broke his engage¬ ment. She therefore desired to die, and tried to throw herself before a locomo¬ tive, but she slipped on some wet grass, and only lost a leg. Her lover is now convinced of her loyalty, and will marry her.