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THE CHEROKEE GEORGIAN ■ ' , ■ ♦ -4 Published, every Friday . TERMS J-Three Dollars per Year iu Advance; Six Months, Two Dollars. JQPNo subscriptions will be taken for a short er period than Three Months ; and no attention will be paid to orders for the paper, unless ac companied with the JD ash 1 Any one sending us the names of ten subscribers to the paper for six months ora > ear, tbUk the money in advance, will receive a copy of the paper, gratia, for the same length of time. ®3S" Postmasters are authorizedio act as our agents in procuring subscribers. MRS. CAUDLE’S CURTAIN LECTURES. MR. CAUDLE r HAVING COME HOME A LIT TLE LATE, DECLARES THAT HENCE FORTH “ HE WILL HAVE A KEY.” “ Upon my word, Mr. Caudle, I think it a waste of timeto come to bed at all now! The cocks will be crow ing in a minute. Why did I sit up then ? Because I choose to sit up—but that’s my thanks. No, it’s no use of you’re talking, Caudle; I never will let the girl sit up for you, and there’s an end. What do yo.u say ? Why does she sit s up with me, ihen ? That’s quite a dif ferent matter; you don’t suppose I’m going to sit up alone, do you ? -What sitting up f That’s my business. “ No, Caudle, it’s no such thing. I don't sit up because I may have the pleasure of talking about it; and you’re an un grateful, unfeeling creature to say so. I sit up because I choose it; and if you don’t come home all the night long—and t’will soon come to that, I’ve no doubt—still, I’ll never go to bed, so don’t think it. “Oh yes! the time runs away very pleasantly with you men at the clubs —selfish creatures! Yoa can laugh and sing, and tell stories, and never think of the clock; never think of such a person as a wife belonging to you. Its nothing to you that a poor woman’s setting up, and telling the minutes, and seeing all sorts of things in the fire—and sometimes thinking some thing dreadful has happened to 3*ou ! —more fool she to care a straw about you?—this is all nothing? Oh no ! When a woman’s once married she’s a slave—worse than a slave—and must bear it all “And what you men can find to talk about I can’t think! Instead of a man sitting every night at home with his wife, and going to bed at a Chris tian hour—going to a club, to meet a set of people who don’t care a button for him, —it’s monstrous ! What do you say ? You only go once a week ?— That’s nothing at all to do with it; you might as well go every night and *1 dare say you will soon. But if you do, you may get in as you can, 1 won’t sit up for you, I can tell you once for all. “ My health’s being destroj-ed night after night, and—oh, don’t say it’s on ly once a week: I tell you that’s nothing to do with it—if you had any •eyes you would see how ill I am ; but you’ve no eyes for anybody belonging to you ; oh no! your eyes are for peo ple.out of doors. It’s very well for you to call me a foonsti, aggravating woman ! I should like to see the wo man who’d sit up for you as I do.— You did'nt want me to sit up? Yes, yes; that’s you, thanks—that’s your gratitude; I’m to ruin my health, and to be abused for it. Nice principles you’ve got at the club, Mr. Caudle ! “ But there’s one coinfort —one great •comfort; it can’t last long:—l’m sink- j ing—l feel it, though I never say any j thing about it—but I know my own j feelings, and 1 say it can’t last Long, j And then I should like to know who will sit up for you ! Then I should , like to know how your second wife— j what do 3 r ou say ? You'll never be troubled xoith another . Troubled in- j deed! I never troubled you, Caudle. No ; it’s yon who’ve troubled me; and you know it; though, like a foolish, woman, I’ve borne if all, and never said a word about it. But it can Mast that’s one blessing! “ Oh, if a woman could only know what she’d have to suffer, before she was married-—don’t tell me you want to go to sleep! If you want to go to sleep, you should come home at proper hours ! It’s time to get up, for what I know now. Should’nt wonder if j'ou hear the milk-man in five minutes— there’s the sparrows up already 5 yes, I sayjthe sparrows; and,Caudle, you ought to blush to hear-them. Youdon’x hear ’em ? Ha ! you won’t hear ’em, you mean: /hear ’em. No, Mr. Caudle; it isn't the wind whistling in the key hole; I’m not quite foolish, though you may think so. I hope I know wind from a sparrow I «Ha when I think what a man you were before we were married! But you’re now another person—quite an altered creature. But I suppose you’re all alike I daresay, every poor woman’s troubled and put upon, though I should hope not so much as i ,am. _l&d£StLl should hope not/ Going and stay- ing out and—• “What! You'll have a key? Will j you? Not while I’m alive, Mr. Cau-, die I’m not going to bed with the j door upon the latch for you or the best man breathing. You won't have a —you'll have a Chubb's lock ? Will, you ? I’ll have no Chubb here, I can tell you. What do you say ? You'll have the lock put on to-morrow. Well, j try it; that’s all I say, Caudle ; try it. I won’t let you put me in a passion ; | but all I say is—try it. “ A respectable thing, that, for a married man to carry about him—a , street-door key ! I hat tells a tale, I think. A nice thing for the father of a family 1 A key ! What, to let your self in and out when you please! To come in, like a thief in the middle of the night, instead of knocking at the door like a decent person! Oh, don’t tell me that you only want to prevent me sitting up—if I choose to sit up what’s that to you ? Some wives, in deed, would make a noise about sitting up, but you've no reason to complain goodness knows! “ Well, upon my word, I’ve lived to hear something. Carry the street-door key about with you! I’ve heard of such things with young good-for-noth jpg bachelors, nobody to care what be- I' 1 __ BY J. A. E. HANKS & CO. came of ’em; but for a married man to leave his wife and children in a house with the door upon the latch—don’t talk to me about Chubb, it’s all the same—a great deal you must care for us. Yes, it’s very well for you to say that you only want the key for peace and quietness—what’s it to you, if I 'like to sit up ? You’ve no business to complain; it can’t distress you. Now, it’s no use your talking; all I say is this, Caudle; if you send a man to put on any lock h°re, I’ll call in a po liceman : as I’m your married wife, I will! “No, I think when a man comes.to have the street-door key, the sooner he turns bachelor altogether the better. I’m affirm, Caudle, I dotft want to be any clog upon you. Now, it’s no use your telling me to hold my tongue, for I—What? I give you the headache , do I? No,ldon’t, Caudle; itsyourclub that gives you the headache: it’s your smoke, and your—well! if ever I knew such a man in all my life! there's no sajdng a word to you!. You go out and treat yourself like an emperor— and come home at twelve at night, or any hoar, for what I know—and then you threaten to have a key, and—and —and”— “I did get to«sleep at last,” says Caudle, “ amidst the falling sentences of “take children into a lodging’—sep arate maintenance’—‘won’t be made a slave of—and so forth.” • _ MEN’S VANITY. With regard to this very subject of vanity, men’s notionsabout themselves and women’s views on the same point, are, according to our experience, con siderably at variance. Women, prob abty, vve may almost say certainly, when their sex is accused of vanity, will acknowledge the “soft impeach ment.” They have heard it asserted very often; and it may be that every woman iu her heart knows that there is something with regard to which she cherishes a little vanity. But men, if charged with being vain, will roundly deny it. This does not, however, di minish in women the conviction that the vanity exists notwithstanding dis claimers. Take the vanity of dress. That all women should be careful to dress as well as others is given as an instance of their vanity. Are there no men to whom the length and width of a coat, the placing of the buttons, the set of a shirt front, the width and shape of a collar, the fashion of the neck tie are objects o*‘ anxiety ? The time which women spend in an ay in g themselves has often been made mat ter of reproach. But it is within our knowledge that men will spend than an hour in dressing for a dinner party. ll’ a woman spemjs much time in get ting herself up we have at least work of art as the undertaking ; but a man, after all, is but a creature in nowise distinguishable from all the others of the sex at the social gathering, and the vanity is more unpardonable, see ing that the result is so ineffective.—■ Closely conne’cted with this is the van ity of personal appearance. No wo men consult their glass with more anx iety than do many men. Wrinkles and gray hairs are grievous to them, and the restorative arts of the beautifiers are not devoted exclusively to the fair sex. Do not men grie o when they begin to loose their good figur ? Do they not subject themselves to tortures in the matter of boots ? Are all those beards mstaches cultivated and kept in order without thought? And is there no exultation when these ap pendages are abundant and of the de sired color and texture? What pains must be taken that the line which di vides men’s •“ back hair” may be very straight ? Double glasses and pairs of brushes, contortions of body and much torture of mind must all be brought in to requisition before the desired effeet is accomplished. Then there is the vanity of influence over the sex. When a woman possesses influence over men she is always conscious of it, and uses it or not, as she likes, without making much fuss. If she does not possess it, however, she does not go about under the delusion that she has the power if she only chooses to exert it. But with men, the case is totally different.— Aa Mm-da of creation ’ they 7m they ought to have dhimence ;dmtr we never yet met a man, however in significant and mean, who was not firmly impressed with the notion that if he so willed it, all the women of his acquaintance would ‘be at his feet.’ Os course men do not go about saying thk in so many words. They would only ■ get ridiculed for their pains, if the no tion found vent in outward expression." But the idea is there and women are ! aware of it, and they, perhaps, laugh a ; little at the notion and vanity of it.— j There is also the vanity of opinion— perhaps we ought to say of infallibility of opinion. Occasionally women dog 'matise; but they are, inmost cases, ready to admit that there are subjects | about which they do jfbt know every thing. But when men utter an opin ion they seem to consider it final; and that any one who disagrees with them is either a knave or a fool. They may not say so but it is evident they think it. We need hardly draw attention to the vanity of sex iu which men indulge. That they are men, and therefore, su perior, is a fact which they not only feel, but are.so constantly bringing up, that ohe begins half to suspect that a thing which needs such a perpetual re iteration is not, after all, so sure a ground for self-laudation as it appears to be.— N. Y. Sun, % Jfamilg Journal:—gtlioiil) to politics, (Stttcnl Jntflli|cmr, fiferatnre mib Jhmtjmai Interests. LOOK AT THE BRIGHTEST SIDE. Where’er your lot fs cast In the family of man, Whether esteemed the first or last, Do the best you can. Though most obscure and poor, Maintain an honest pride, And, laboring to increase your store, Look at the brightest side. Strive, strive with might and soul, To win the good you crave, And if you cannot reach the goal, Show your spirit brave. Far bette r aim too high, And fail, if fall yon must, Than to remain as life goes by, Groveling in the dust. If friends should recreant prove Vyhen,nwa*fe:their aid you need, Trust in Heaven—-poor human love Is but a feeble-reed. But pause, before you take Revenge for human pride; Perchance there may by some mistake— Look at the brightest side. When midnight gloom enshrouds The valley and the hill, Far up beyond the envious clouds The stars are shining still. So present troubles may A smiling future hide; Waiting till they oass away, Look at the brightest side. Lend not a listening ear To slander’s whispered tale ; To make a neighbor’s faults appear Can be of no avail. If he has done a wrong 'That cannot be denied, He may have had temptation strong — Look at the brightest side. As nature has not dealt Equality between, You cannot fe<T as lie ha? felt, Nor see as he has seen. Some mote piay dim your sight, Or intercept your view T ill what to him appeared but right Seems only wrong to you. Judge not another’s sin Ti I you have scanned your own, And when your heart is pure within Cast at him a stone. Perchance your nckless tracks Did ais frail feet mi guide; Then, if you disapprove his acts, Look at the br.ghtest sida. THE THIRD DECREE. Many of our readers will appreciate the following legend of the Third—or Master Mason's Degree—which vve take from a Masonic paper. “The - legend, as it is called, of the Master Mason, is one of the most touching and beautiful in the great drama of life. Founded, as it is, up m the mys- ! ter.es and ceremonies of the ancient Egyptians, it has come down to us as the very embodiment and substance of Masonry. It is the exemplification j of the birth, the lifa, the duties, the j death and the resurrection of man. It ( stamps upon the intelligent Mason the sublime doctrine of the immortality of the soul; and.it was a wise provision I of all Grand Lodges that that degree should never be given in part only, but should be completed at every under taking; “ To omit this legend is to omit the degree itself, and fgr its omission the ordinary excuse, uot even the ignor ance of tlie master, who may not have .the talent or industry to learn it, is not sufficient. This legend is the grand landmark, the unfailing beacon of Masonic centuries. It is never changed;* it will admit of no removal, for it is the true point of the univer sal Brotherhood. It conveys thought, ajid furnishes food for the reflective mind down to the grave, and as a sim ple drama, stands unequalled beside any of the productions of genius.— No Mason ever participated in and forgot it;.he felt its moral upon his soul, as though it .were a touch of Di vinity, and when properly understood it inspires a solemnity only to the scene of death.” The Head of a Dead Man Tkies to Speak. —A poor fellow was guillo tined here a few days after our arrival. According to the custom, his head and body were given to the surgeons for the “ advancement of science.” An experiment was tried with the head, with a very interesting result. They injected into its arteries fresh arterial ’blood taken from a dogjNwfi shortly afterward the head gave unmistakable signs of life. The color returned to the cheeks and lips, the eyes opened brightly and gazed upon those around, the lips moved as if attempting vainly to speak, and the entire face bore the semblance to active life. So soon as Ahe operator ceased to inject the life blbbarn CTTC'tTUg— CTre~ appearance--or~ death rapidly succeeded. It was ear nestly held by the eminent surgical gentlemen in attendance that during the operation the brain was in full and 'matural action, and that the lips tried utter the last thought which found /esting-place in the mind of the con demned.—Paris Correspondence of the Pittsburg Gazette. The Man Without an Enemy.— Heaven help the man who imagines he can dodge enemies by trying to please everybody! "If such an individual even succeeded we should be glad of it—not that we believe in a than going through the world trying to find beams to knojik his head against; disputing every man’s opinion, fighting and el bowing and crowding all who differ with him. That again, is another ex treme. Other people have a right to their opinion, so have you; don’t fall into the error Os supposing they will respect you less for maintaining it, or respect you more for turning your coat every' day to match the color of theirs. Wear your own colors, in spite of wind and weather, storm or sunshine. It costs the vascillating and irresolute ten times the trouble to wind and shuf fle and twist, that it does honest, man ly independence to stand its ground. DALTON, GEORGIi, MAI 24, 1867. THE LADY AND Tlfe ROBBER. In a large, lone hou&e, situated in the south of England, pei’e once liv ed a lady and her two jmaid-servants. They were far away from any human habitation, but thej’ stqmed to have felt no fear, and to haje dwelt there peacefully and happily: j It was the lady’s custom to go rot|nd the house with her maids every evening, to see that all the windows anjl doors were properly secured. Jr J One night, she had (accompanied them as usual, and ascertained that all was safe. hlr in the pas sage, close to, jio* then went other side of the house. As the lady opened her door, she distintly saw a man underneath her bed. What could she do ? Her servants sere far aivay, and could not hear her if she screamed for help; and even if they had come to her assistance, tho.<(e three weak women were no match fbr a desperate housebreaker. How then did she act? She trusted in God. Quietly she clos ed the door, and locked it on the inside, which she was always in the habit of doing. She then leisurely brushed her hair, and putting on her dressing gown, she took her Bible and sat down to read. She read aloud, and chose a chapter which had especial reference to God’s watchfulness Over us, and constant care of us by night and by day. When it was finished, she knelt and prayed at great length, still utter ing her words aloud, particularly coni mending herself and servants to God’s protection, and dwelling upon their utter helplessness and dependence up on him to preserve them from all dan gers. At last she arose from her knees, put out her candle, and lay down in bed; but she did not sleep. After a few minutes had elasped, she was con scious the man was standing by her bed side. He addressed her, and told her not to be alarmed. “ I came here,” said he, “ to rob you, but after the words you have read, and the prayer you have uttered, no power on earth could induce me to hurt you or to touch a thing in your house.— But you must remain perfectly quiet, and not to attempt to interfere with me. I shall now give a signal to my companions, which they will under stand, and then they will go away, and you may sleep in peace, for I give you my solemn word that no one shall harm you, and not the smallest thing belong ing to yon shall be disturbed.” He then went to the window, opened H, uua >. liiacre-a- to Die lady’s side, who s*ot spoken or moved, he said: “Now I am going. Your prayer has been heard, and no disaster will befall you.” He left the room, and soon all was quiet, and the lady fell asleep, still up held by that calm and beautiful faith and trust. When the morning dawned, and she awoke, we may feel sure that she pour ed out her thanksgivings and praise to Him who had “defended ” her un der “ His wings,” and “kept” her “safe under His feathers,” so that she was not afraid of any terror by night. The man proved trie to his word, and not a thing in her house was ta ken. 0, shall we not hope that his heart was changed from that day forth, and that he forsook his evil courses, and cried to that Savbur, “ who came to seek and to save that which was lost,” and even on the cross, did not reject the penitenLthief! ’From this true story let us learn to put our whole trust and confidence in God. This lady’s courage was indeed wonderful, but “the Lord was her defence upon her rjgiit hand,” and with Him all things are possible..— Monthly Packet for October. \ % We have receivedAn extract from a letter fully corroborating the remarka ble anecdote of “ The Lady and the Robber,” in our October number, and adding some facts t*at enhanced the wonder and mercy o ’ her escape. We quote the words of he letter: “ In the first plao, the robber told her if she had the slightest alarm and token of .resistance, he was fully determined to murder her; so that it was really Gijf’s good guidance that told her to follow the course she did. Then, before he went away, he rvaaer Inward speh words before: I mUStJlajeAhe >l r.eaU out of; and carrier off her|Bible, willingly' enough given, you yrfjfy be sure. This happened many yejns ago, and only •comparatively recently did the lady hear any more of Lifn. She was at tending a religious;meeting in York shire, where, after several noted cler gymen and others bad spoken, a man arose, stating he was employed as one of the book hawkeife jof the soeiety, and told the story of ;Uie midnight ad venture, as a testimony to the wonder ful power of the word of God. He concluded with: ‘I am that man. The lady arose from her seat in the hall, and said quietly. Htis all quite true; I am the lady,’ and sat down again.” —Monthly Packet ftf December. jPspTH am an oil fellow, says Cow per, in one of his letters to Hurdis, but I had once my dancing days as you have now; yetjnever could find that I could learn 1 ijf so much of a woman’s character by dancing with her as conversing x ith her at home, when I could observe her behavior at the table, at the firj Bide, and in all the trying circumstancedof domestic life. We are all good when we are pleased; but she is the good lonian who wants not the fiddle to swffeb hor. MARRIAGE. • Marriage meant something in old times. It was no holiday affair, don ned like a garment, to be regarded as worthless when the fashion changed. It grew out of no sickly sentiment that has its existence in the yellow fe ver of a wretched romance, as unlike true life as a cabbage is to a rose or the sear of Autumn—a more fitting smile—to the vernal Spring. A healthy, hearty, happy old institution was mat rimony in those days, and people jog ged along together in the harness of its duties as harmoniously as the right hand and the left, that help each other and yet don’t seem to know it, so nat ural is the service rendered, as if they were born to it. As the right hand or the right eye sympathises with the left, so did the twain thus united sym pathize. Duty and affection leaned upon each other, and inseparably strove to make the home hearth cheerful. It became pleasure to carry the sweet drink to the thirsty man in the field a-mowing; or to bear the basket of luncheon to the woods where the red browed man was chopping wood for winter; or to patiently hold the light in the long winter evenings when the yoke was to be mended or the harness repaired. And it became pleasure when the good man went to town to stow his pockets with something nice for the wife at home—a new dress, or anew apron—the remembrance of whose face would come to him when away and hasten his departure back. It was that remembrance which prompted the mare into an urgent trot on the last mile home, though she couldn’t see the necessity for it. And his e3 T e looked brighter when he saw •the cheerful face at the window, look ing down the road, and shook his whip at it as it smiled at him as much as to say, let me get near you, and —and what ? Ask the walls, and the bureau in the corner, and the buffet where the china was on, the milk pans upon the dresser, what. No jars occurred in a home that owned such a pair. Can the left C3 r e cast severe glances upon the right ? Can the right hand quar rel with the left ? The home where a true marriage ex ists, is blest, and the man who finds his domesticit\ r cast in a mould such as above described, may be called hap- P3 r in fullest sense of the blissful word. I.YFEIIE3TIAG INCIDENT. The Lynchburg Virginian states that a gentleman who was on his way .Smulav o.vwuin'jf last to visit the <£vaye of a younger brother who died m the Confederate service, discovered just as he had reached the gate of the ceme tery, three former servants Os the fam ily approaching the grave with flowers* and evergreens in their hands. Keep ing out of their view, he watched them until they reached the grave, when one of them climbed over the iron railing, took the flowers and evergreens from his companions and laid them tenderly on the grave of his former young mas ter. The gentleman then approached and added his floral offering of affec tion to that which had already been placed upon the grave. Such an inci dent as this portrays more eloquently than words can the tender relations which existed under the old dispensa tion between the two races—a relation so fixed and firm in this case, as in hundreds of others, that the exciting and disturbing causes during and since the war have not been able to unsettle it. The fact is, a strong affection has always existed between the whites and blacks of the South, and there is no reason why that feeling.should not continue in the future as in the past. Agitators and fanatics are doing much to weaken it and create animosities, but we believe that the good sense and naturally good feeling of the negroes will finally prevail, and that they will see only mischief and malice in these efforts. They will be apt to discover who are their real friends, and where are their true interests, and to act ac cordingly. ■ A Parallel. — The Macon Tele graph puts in this rib-roaster : “ A few broken down, fifth-rate po liticians, combined with about an equal number of Yankee capitalists, have met in Atlanta and denounced Gov. Jen kins as lacking in good sense and states manship. “ A party of ragged London news boys, it is related, "being deprived of the privilege of hawking their wares in the street to the public annoyance, met in solemn council and unanimously a dopted the following resolution: ‘ Re solved, That the Lord Mayor is an ignoramus and a nuisance !’ “ The Lord Mayor is supposed to have been dreadfully hurt in spirit and damaged in reputation by this fulmi nation from Shin Bone Alley. GoA'er nor Jenkins, of Georgia, is doubtless equally disconsolate!” The Temptations of Power.— “ There are few men who can resist the temptations of power. Some of the greatest characters in history have been men whose career began in the defense of popular liberty, and ended in tyranny worse than that of the ty rants they overthrow. Napoleou be gan a republican and ended a despot. Cromwell set out to defend the Eng lish constitution and ended by tram p lingit under his feet. These are but prominent examples of a thousand in stances which every age and almost every year of the world’s history have furnished. The career of the dom inant politcal faction in this country is one of the latest and most remarka ble. YOL. II—NO. 20. MORE PRECIOUS THAN GOLD. JL The ancient philosopher whp hunted in vain for an honest man would prob ably have had no better success if his search had been for a contented man. Discontent seems to be inherent in hu man nature. It is natural for a man no matter what his circumstances or condition in life, to strive for some thing which he sees ahead and which is beyond his immediate reach. He is never satisfied with his lot. There is always something ahead to draw him forward, and he follows the magnet, reaching his apparent goal only to find that, in some shape or other, it is still ahead. Thus, the man who stands up on the lower round of the Tadd#‘ bf fortune, who has nothing that he can call his own with the exception of his family, looks forward with eager ex pectation to the day when he shall own a simple home. ITe thinks if that point were reached he would be con tented and happy. But give that man his cottage, and he will soon move his aspirations a peg higher, and sigh for something a little better. The same feeling of restlessness pervades every grade of society—the millionaire as well as the laborer who owns nothing in the world. Here in New York are men who count their wealth by millions. Are the}' satisfied or contented? No.— They see the same ignis fatuus ahead which flits before the mental vision of the laborer. It is a fact, although few people appreciate it, that wealth brings neither contentment nor happiness.— The more a man gets the more he wants. It is well of course, that na ture has endowed man with the quali ty of acquisitiveness, for it is that, chiefly, which stimulates his energies and makes him industrious and ambi tious. Tt is well, too, that every man should strive to accumulate the means of enjoyment, for the physical organ ism is such that it needs work in or der to prevent a loss of vitality. But while laboring and striving in a rea sonable degree to secure additional comforts, it is the greatest of folly for any man to grieve about the lowness of his station or the emptiness of his purse. And it is worse than lolly to envy those who are more fortunate, or who by any mean§ enjoy a greater de gree of prosperity. Asa rule, the man who carries the hod in assisting to build the costly residence is quite as happy as he who will occupy that residence. In fact, we believe that there is less happiness and more dis content among the wealthy than among the poor. Man’s desire for enjoyments increase quite as fast as Ills means for gratifying them, and hence there is al ways a void to fill. Every man,whether rich or poor should school himself to be content with his lot, Happiness dwells in cabins as well as in palaces and he who would be happy must learn that it is something which gold cannot buy. —New York Sun. THE PRICE OF A WORTHLESS WOMAN. The recent trial and decision of an aristocratic divorce case in London strikingly illustrates how differently these matters are managed in England and in this country : “ The parties, plaintiff and defen dant, were men of the highest social position and officers of her Majesty’s Oxford Blues. Captain Westcar took possession of the pretty wife of Mayor Maxwell. Mayor Maxwell, placing, we think, too high a valuation upon a worthless wife, sued for a divorce and claimed damages for the wrong which he had sustained to the amount of SIOO,OOO. The defendant took matters coolly, telling his counsel that ‘he was used to that sort of thing and did not mind it.’ The jury found a verdict for the plaintiff and gave him $50,000, with costs. As the income of the de fendant was $35,000 per annum he trenched somewhat upon his property, paid the amount, and retains the May or’s wife. There were no pistols, no bowie-knives, and no guns heavily charged with buckshot, and the wile and $50,000 changed hands, and thus it all ended. The English are a com mercial and practical people—very.— But the price of unfaithful wives in that highly civilized and favored land is unreasonably high. The market ‘rules’ higher than in New Lork and Boston.” Dreadful Burlesque on Marriage Ceremony.— George Francis Train in, a recent speech in New York, said: “ Our modern marriage service should read thus : Clergyman—Will you take this brown stone front, this carriage and span, and these diamonds for thy wedded husband ? Yes.—[Laughter.] Will you take this unpaid milliner’s bill, this high waterfall of foreign hair, these affectations, accomplishments and feeble constitution for thy wedded wife? [Loud laughter.]—Yes. Then, what mammon has joined together let the next best man run away with, so that the first divorce court may tear them asunder. The Delectable Cuss.— On his re turn from Petersburg to Richmond, af ter making his incendiary speech, Hun nicutt took a seat in the car assigued to colored people. When the conduc tor demanded his fare lie ollered him a dollar and a quarter, the amount charged colored passengers. The con ductor informed him that the fare tor white persons was a dollar and fitly cents. ITe remonstrated, saj ing that as he rode in the colored car he ought only to pay colored faro. A colored man who heard the controversy, put a stop to the matter by paying the quarter in dispute. ADVERTISING RATES t One Dollar and Fifty Cents per square (of ten tines, or less,) for the first insertion, and Seventy-Five Cents for each subsequent inser tion. Contract advertising as follows: For 12 months.'For 6 months.}For S months. 1 sqr..s 12 OOjl sqr.. .$ 900 1 sqr,.. $6 00 2 sqrs... 22 00j2 sqrs... 15 00;2 sqrs.,.. 10 00 S sqrs... 30 00 3 sqrs.. .20 00j3 sqrs.,.. 18 00 1 col., . .40 <>o!i c 01.,. .30 00 i c 01.,. . .20 00 X “ . .70 00 £ “ ..60 001* “ ...80 00 1 “ .110 0011 “ ..|5 001 1 “ ...60 00 Rates of Legal Advertising! Citations on letter? of Ailin’r., £3 00 Citations on letters dis. Irotn'AUtnY., Ac., 0 00 For leave to sell 1and,.,.. 6 GO Notice to debtors and creditors, 4 00 Sales of personal property, 10 dais, 1 sqr, 2 00 Sale of. land by Executors, 1 squnra, 0 00 SI eriff’a Sales, per square, each insertion, 1 5 MORE OF THE UNDERWOOD CHARGE. Even the New York Herald is dis gusted with Underwood’s indecent, « charge.” Os that remarkable docu ment, it says: “The charge of Judge Underwood to the Grand Jury in Richmond on Monday is without a parallel. With its whining cant of martyrdom, its bitter curses of the foul-mouthed abuse of Richmond, with its ‘pagan and my thological ideas of Bacchus, Mammon and Mars;’ its allusions to‘the awful and atheistic past’ of Richmond, and one ‘building of everlasting granite’ that stood unharmed amid the great conflagration; with its splutteringpoet f6M qxrcmtioiiß-f- , vvMr''ft»' "ewAatio ap plause of ‘the leader and father of suc cessive Congress,’ acknowledged to be so with ‘a deference which neither Clay, Fox, the Pitts, nor even Cicero had ever known ;’ with all it3 angry and ridiculous rhetoric, this charge is the strangest mixture of drivel and furious nonsense which ever disgraced the bench. In getting himself up am bitiously to ‘act well his part,’ Judge Underwood must have had a confused notion of taking for models Jeffreys, Parson Brownlow and Robert Shal low, Esquire, Justice of the Peace, and Coram and Custalorum, and Rnto- Corum, too. None but some of Shak speare’s queerest original characters, if revived to-day', could utter such a farrago of rant and fustian as this un precedented charge.” HEAVY OX THE DISTRICT COMMANDERS. Even the Radical papers have de nounced the petty tyranny of the mili tary commanders at the South. Scho field o,t Richmond, playing the role of Louis Napoleon, in threatening to muz zle the pres?s. Sickles repeating the trick of Gesler at Charleston. Pope at Atlanta in menacing Governor Jen kins with removal •, and Sheridan at New Orleans in removing Mayor Mon roe, are all condemned for exceeding their instructions in performing vari ous acts of tryauny. The N. Y. Her ald, especially, is severe upon the role of these valiant commanders who are now lording it over a poor and down trodden people. It say's# “In assum ing the right to make people take off their hats to a pair of trowsers, a hoop skirt, or even to the Stars and Stripes, these military' commanders are assum ing too much. We would submit to the President, the Secretary of War and General Grant, the propriety of a general order embracing certain speci fic instructions to the five military dis trict commanders in the South and their subordinates, to' the encl that a uniform, liberal and conciliatory'course of action on their part may' prevail from Virginia to Texas. The rigors of martial law are out of place in the midst of peace, and upon a people who arc not only disarmed, submissive, and unable to help themselves, but who are anxious and doing all they' can to 1 til fill the conditions of Congress.” A GLIMPSE BElliM) THE MASX. A colored Baptist minister at Beau fort, S. C., writing to the Christian Re cord among other things sa3's : “ Some of our white ministerial friends do more in the way of procuring farms and keeping our poor race in ignorance than anything else. They pretend, when they are North, that they would come down and do anything for our race in the way of enlightening them ; but instead of this, when they see the cotton gag, they forget all about Christ and Him crucified, and the saving of souls.” Os certain Northern mer chants, lie says: “ All they wish to do, Is teach what President Lincoln has done, pat the colored man on the shoulder with the left hand, while with the right hand they catch hold of his pocket-book. And when they have got the last cent from him, their friendship suddenly ceases. Then ‘he.is only a nigger.” We suspect that the “color ed" brother” in this instance reveals more truth than poetry in reference to the practices of reverend politicians.— They are Satan’s vice-gerents on earth, and go about like roaring lions, seek ing to devour somebody. “ Pet*lambs” and cotton bales had better be kept under key while they are about. REGISTRATION. We are pleased to learn by a spe cial dispatch from Washington to the Cincinnati Commercial, that a delega tion from New Orleans recently had an interview with the Attorney General, and were informed that the Adminis stration intended to give the disfran chising clause of the Reconstruction Bill a liberal construction, so as to al low a full registration. The Attorney General declared that the registers un der General Sheridan had done wrong in refusing to register city, county, and township officers, of the State.— He is also of the opinion that Con gress did not intend to exclude a man from voting who had happened to take an oath to support the Constitution, and then participated in the rebellion, unless he had held an office which re quired an oath of fidelity to the Na tional Government. JCgr’Tkree bummers were arranged for drunkenness in the Chicago Police Court a day or two since, who said their business was helping ladies to husbands by contract. One of the firm would go to a young lady and otter to get her married for a certain sum.— He would then pretend to be engaged to her, while another of the firm would encourage some spooney to cut the first named out and secure a large stake by marrying the girl himself. The game . worked to a oh arm. • - .