Calhoun weekly times. (Calhoun, GA.) 1873-1875, September 15, 1870, Image 1
The Calhoun Times. Volume I. THE CALHOUff TIMES. S, RAILROAD STREET, Terms of Subscription. One Year : : : : : yix Months : : : : : lzs > Rates of Advertising’. I 3 Mob. <> Moa. 1 y^f. $57(7) ITToO SISOO $25.00 Z “ 8.00 12.00 25.00 40.00 “cjtan 10.00 18.00 35.00 46.00 ! “ 18.00 30.00 50.00 70.00 \ a 30.00 50.00 75.00- 140.00 All subscriptions are payable strictly in advance; and at the expiration of the time for which payment is made, unless pre viously renewed, the name of the subscriber will be stricken from our books. For each square of teu lines or less, for the first insertion, sl, and for each subsequent insertion, fifty cents. Ten lines of solid Brevier, or its equivalent in space, make a cash, before or on demand after the first insertion. Advertisements under the head of “ Special Notices,” twenty cents per line for .first in sertion,’ and ten cents each sebsequent inser tion. All communications on matters ot public interest will meet with prompt attention, and concise letters on general subjects are re spectfully solicited from all parts of the country. railroads. ) Western & Atlantic. NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN—OUTWARD. Leave Atlanta. .7.00 p. n. Arrive at Calhoun 12.15 a. m. Arrive at Chattanooga ...3 30 a. m DAT PASSENGER TUAIN—OUTWARD. Leave Atlanta 8.15 a m Arrive at Calhoun 12.51 p M. Arrive at Chattanooga 4.20 p. m. accohod tion train—outward. Leave Atlanta 530 p m. Arrive at Dalton 3.30 p m. NIGnT PASSENGER TRAIN—INWARD. Leave Chattanooga 7.50 p. m Arrive at Calhoun 11.44 p m Arrive at Atlanta 4 14 a. m. DAY PASSENGER TRAIN —INWARD. Leave Chattanooga 7.00 a. m. Arrive at Calhoun 10 29 a. m Arrive at Atlanta 3.27 p. m. ACCOMODATION TRAIN - IN WARD. Leave Dalton 200 p m Arrive at Atlanta 9.00 A. m. Georgia Railroad. DAY PASSENGER TRAIN. Leave Augusta. 7,15 a. m. Leave A'lanta. 7 00 a. m. Ariive at Augusta. 5.45 p. m. Arrive at Atlanta. 7 .10 p. m. NIGHT PASSENGER AMD MAIL TRAIN. Leave Augusta. 9.50 p. m. Leave Atlanta 5.45 p m. Arrive at Augusta. 4.00 a. m. Arrive at Atanta. 8.00 a. m. Macon A: Western. DAY PASSENGER TRAIN. i /(Cave Atlanta. 7.55 a. m i Arrive at Macon. 1.40 P. M Leave Macon. 7.55 a. m Arrive at Atlanta, 2.20 p. m Mlill I B.AI t.»rm x \tKru.mMrß IK tttn. Leave Atlanta 7.16 p. m. Arrive at Macon 3 23 a.m. Leave Macon 8.50 p. m. Arrive at Atlanta 4.40 a m. Rome Railroad. DAY TRAIN. £eave Rome 10.00 a m. Arrive at Kingston 11.30 a. m. Leave Kingston I.o<> p. m Arrive at Rome 2.30 p. m. Connecting at Rome with accomnda’ion trains on Selma, Rome and Dalton Railroad, and at Kingston with up and down trains Western and Atlantic Railroad. NIGHT TRAIN. Leave Rome 9.30 p. m. Arrive at Kingston 10 45 p. m. Leave Kingston 11.10 p. m. Arrive at Rome 12.25 p. m. Connecting at Rome with through night trains on Seluia, Rome and Dalton R ilroad, and at Kingston with night trains on Wes'ern and Atlantic Railroad to Chattanooga and from aud to Atlanta, Selma, Rome & Dalton. PASSENGER TRAIN. Leave Selma “ ' 9.30 a. m. arrive at Rome 8 55 p m. Arrive at Dalton 11.50 p m, accommodatiom train, Leave Rome 4.45 p m. Arrive at R me 12.3'* p. m. Leave Dalton 10.00 a. m The accommodation train runs fr<'in Rome to Jacksonville daily, Sundays excepted The through passenger train onh will be run on Sundav. m "mi— iiiiiiiii ,tiu. a^ t CARDS. IV. s. JOHNSON, ' ttorne.y At Law, CALIIOUN, GEORGIA. Office in Southeast corner of the jonrt House. Aug 11 1 ts '• c. FAIN. JOS. m’CONNEEW fain and McConnell, Vttoinejs at Law, CALHOUN, i GEORGIA. Office iu the Court House. Au g 11 1 . ts TARVER, Attorney at CALHOUN\ GEORGIA. set) ( ftice in the Court House. Aug 11 j ts W. J. CANTRELL, Attorney Law. Calhoun, Georgia. Practice in the Cherokee Circuit, triot S - Dls ! rict t Court, Northern Dis nct of Georgia, (at Atlanta); and in the Su lreme Court of the State of Georgia. E7jr. KIKER, Attorney at Law, CALHOUN, GEORGIA. Qt the old of Cantrell $ K%ker.\ \\ (m'' h la ctice in all the Courts of the Georgi I Circuit; Supreme Court of at Wni'p 1 16 tates District Court augl9’7oly To lliver Farms For Sale. y on theNy 1 1 m iles north of Resaea, 500 acres—tw * H—containing about °^-oneandM Upments ’ sa ea—containin',', miles north-east of Re is made to Mr |> ain if early applica -ePt27O-nn, ' T ' H - BARNETT, Resaca. (1 a. POETRY. A NAME BY TUB LATE EDWARD F. MOKKHEAD. While in listless manner pouring Over pages light and gay, All the busy world ignoring, All the cares of every day; On my gaze" a name has started Which I seek in vain to fly, * Bringing memories long departed, From my youth’s unclouded sky. And a fond and cherished feeling Comes through every throbbing vein, In the beating heart revealing Hopes that rise and fall again, Like the swelling of the ocean On the sloping, sandy beach, In obedience to the motion Which the laws of nature teach. On the wave that upwarcWtses From the dark and depthless past, Well my spirit recognizes Her whose image fled me last, As with eyes of tender pity Silently she floats along Toward the bright celestial city Where immortals speak in song. And my spirit longs to follow' In her bright and glowing train; Longs to quit his life so hollow— Longs to free itself from pain; But between me and the vision Comes a stern, uptying cloud, And the hopes that seemed Elysian Sink again in sorrow’s shroud. And before me strangely shining Burns that sweetly thrilling name, Like the star that; day declining, Set’s aloft in heaven’s main; And the struggling sigh comes heaving From the sorrow-tested heart, And with eye and bosom grieving, From my book I sadly start. U. S. Prison, New Orleans, May 11, 1884. GOOD-NIGIiT. Good-Night! ’tis but a little while Os doubt and fear and pain, Ere, under day’s sweet, sunny light, We two shall meet again. Good-night! soft shadows downward creep, The Day is doomed to die: She bids her sweetest flowers farewell— Why should not you and I ? They sleep, dear love: and night’s still dews Brighten their tender bloom, Ah ! would not we, for such bright life, Endqre a little gloom ? Good-night! good-night! and if it be That mo more, hand in hand, We tread the pleasant boundaries Os Yet in a world of cloudless skies, Where flowers immortal bloom, We’ll meet the morning light that breaks . The darkness of the tomb. Clio Stanley. Anecdote of a Bear. Leopold, Duke of Lorraine had a bear named Marco which was kept in a small den or liut placed in a barn. During the winter of 1709 some very poor peo ple, who had liked to have perished with the cold, went into the barn for shelter. Among these poor people there was a little boy, who, being very cold, and seeing that Marco’s den was a snug and warm place, went into it, without thinking of the danger of doing so.— Marco, however, instead of tearing the poor little fellow all in pieces, as might have been expected, took him between hi,s paws, and hugged him up to his breast, and kept him warm and com fortable until morning; he then let him go to ramble about the streets of the city. At evening the boy returned to the bear, who was glad to see him, and took him between his paws to keep him warm, as before. For several nights the little boy h id no other place to sleep except.with the hear, and what is still more singular, the animal kept part of his food to give him for his supper when he came. The keeper of the bear knew nothing of this for a number of days. At length, going one evening later than usual, to give the bear his supper, he was surprised to see the animal roll his eyes in a furious manner at him. The cause of this strange c in duct. the keeper did not at first under stand, hut on looking more closely, he astonishment, that - the bear clasped in his arms, fast sleep, and that his fierce looks were in warn him not to awake the child by making a noise. The keeper found, when he placed the food before him, that he did not seize upon it as usual, but lay still without touching it. for fear, as he supposed, of awakening the child. A report of this strange story was soon carried to the duke, who, with some of his nobles, wished to see so curious and interesting a sight with their own eyes. They, therefore, one night, went and stayed near the bear’s hut. where they could now and then look in, and see what was troing on.— They saw, with astonishment, that the animal never stirred, so long as the boy lay still and continued to sleep. The child awoke very early in the morning, and was much ashamed to find that the duke and his gentlemen were looking at him; he was also afraid of being pun ished for being found there. The bear all this time was trying to make the boy eat what had been brought to him the night before, and which lie finally did at the request of the gentleman.- The duke was so much pleased at this singular friendship that he had the little boy taken care of and fed. Cubans are confident, of early peace and independence. CALHOUN, GcN., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1870. MISCELLANY. “Don't Tell Betsey Jane." BY MARY W. STANLEY GIBSON. “And for your life, don’t tell Betsey Jane!” Mr. Nicodemus Harding having ut tered this caution in a low, earnest voice, alighted from a Concord wagon in front of his own farmhouse door, and stood there for a few moments in a brown study, -watching the figure of his broth er-in-law and lawyer, as he drove back toward the village of W—, whence the two men had just come. “Don’t tell Betsey Jane!” Now Betsey Jane was Mr. Nicodemus Harding’s wife—a stiring, notable soul, who made more butter and cheese, and took more eggs and fowls to the village market, in qf-a season, than any other woman for miles around Strung, healthy and' "hearty, she “made the housework fly,” to use hen.own en ergetic expression; and if Nicodemus Harding owned his farm that day and was “well-to-do,” in fact a rich boot, it was owing; in no small measure to the skill and energy and economy and general go-aheaditiveness of his Betsey Jane. What was it, then, that grateful man was not about to tell "her ? * “It would never do, never!” thought Nicodemus to himself, shaking his head. “She’d be wanting anew carpet or anew silk gown, or the house all painted over, or some such nonsense. No, the woman is the weaker vessel, and it won’t do to trust one too far. Their heads won’t hear it.” So Mr. Nicodemus passed through the house and out toward the barn, with the preoccupied air of a hen who has an egg to lay, and don’t know where she can hide it from the eyes of mankind to the best advantage. The kitchen‘was emp ty and silent as he passed through it.— But, on ! if he could but have seen the buxom, good-looking female,, who stole silently out of the pantry, and as silently followed him on his way toward the barn! Mrs. Harding came back in about 20 minutes or so, with a face red with sup pressed laughter. “Don’t tell Betsey Jane,” she said, giggling into her gingham apron. “You are a very smart man, Nicodemus, and my brother, Tim Noyes, is another, and a lawyer into the bargain. Don’t tell Betsey Jane, indeed ! Two wretches ! you deserve all you’ll get pretty soon.” Betsey Jane said no more, but hided her time. A week passed away, aud then brother Tim’s wagon drove up again to the door, and Nicodemus stepped into it and,was off to the village agnjn, ‘Beta SCV Jane Had nsLcd in vain to goT INio odemus was bound on business—“busi ness which a woman could not under stand,” he loftily explained to her. So, after watching her lord and master well out of sight. Betsey Jane went about business that a woman could understand, with a merry twinkle in her bright black eyes. At 4 p. m. Nicodemus returned home again, looking quite as important as be fore. He tiptoed through the kitchen, Betsey Jane watching him from the corner of her eye the while. He passed out into the shed A fragrant smell of smoke came forward to meet him—an odor of burning corn-cobs and gradually curing ham. Nicodemus turned deadly pale, and ran frantically forward, to find 'a fire smouldering in the ash .house, and a large ham or two, covered over by blankets, hanging placidly there! The yell he gave brought Betsey Jane from the house instanter, to find Nicodemus grovelling before the ash-house door, weeping and wailing and tearing his hair, and utter ing yell after yell of anguish and des pair ! “Why, bless me! what’s the matter? Are you in a fit ? Let me run for the camphor!” shrieked Betsey Jane. “Camphor! Bring arsenic! Bring prussic acid ! Bring poison of some kind —pison—pison—pison!” yelled Nico demus frantically. “Woman, you’ve ruined me ! Twelve thousand dollars in government bonds did 1 put in that ash-hole for safety, just a week ago, and you've gone and burnt them up to cook that cussed bacon! Pison ! pison ! pison ! And let me get out of this weary world!” “Oh !—so that was what you were not going to tell Betsey Jane! Ain’t you a little ashamed of yourself, Nicodemus Harding?” Nicodemus could not an swer. He laid prostrate in the ashes and howled ! “Get up—and don’t be a fool!” said Betsey Jane, amiably. “I heard you and brother Tim conspiring at the door that day, and I watched you to the ash-hole, and soon found out what you had hid away there. V onufti is the weaker ves sel. no doubt, but she don’t generally put twelve thousand dollars where the first match that comes handy can burn it all up 1 Here are your bonds, Nicode mus —for ten thousand dollars—l have kept two for my honesty!” Poor Nicodemus ! He gathered him self up "lit of the ashes aud took his bond^—what was left of them! He rath er thinks it pays best, on the whole, now. to tell Betsey Jane ! Oh Dear! —It is that on a certain time, a Chinese widow being found fan ning the grave of her husband, was ask ed why she performed so singular an op eration. She said she had promised not to marry again while the grave remained damp, and that as it dried very slowly, she saw no harm in assisting the pro cess. Stuffing improves the fair, as well as the fowl [Special to the New York Tribune,] Battle of Gravelott. A VERY FANCY DESCRIPTION. • At midnight or a little after, on the 17th* and 18th, all the trumpets, for miles around, began to sound. This was the first time we had been startled by such music. Trumpet to trumpet through all the bivoucs around the little city. For several days previously there had been troops almost perpetually marching through every street and byway, making, between midnight and dawn, a perpetual roar. Hastily dressing, I ivent out into the darkness and managed to get a seat on a wagon that was going in the direction of the front, which was now understood to be a mile or two beyond A hy village sonde twelve a-Mousson. On our way we met a con siderable batch of French prisoners, who was looked upon with considerable cu riosity by the continuous line of German soldiers with whom we advanced. But. one or offensive cries toward the were heard. The way was so blocked with wagons that I finally concluded I could do the six or seven miles remaining, on foot better, I got out of my. carriage and began to walk and run swiftly ahead. At Montvient, on the Moselle, about half way to Metz, I found vast bodies of cavalry, uhlans and hussars crossing the river by a pontoon bridge and hur rying at the top of their speed toward Gorge. Hurrying my own steps, I soon heard the first thunder of the cannonade, seemingly coming from the heart of a range of hills on the right. Passing through the village and ascending the high plain beyond, I found myself sud denly in a battle field, strewn, literally, as far as my eye could reach, with dead bodies. In one or two parts of the field, com panies were still burying the dead, chiefly Prussians. The French, being neces sarily buried last, were still lying in vast numbers, on the ground.. A few of these 1 saw were not dead. As I followed 011, a splendid regiment of cavalry came on behind, and when they reached the brow of the hill they all broke out with a wild hurrah and dashed forward. A few more steps and I gained the summit, and saw the scene which had evoked their cry and seemed to thrill even their horses. It would be difficult to imagine a grander battle field. THE SCENE OF BATTLE. From the hill to which I had been diafucced by irhocl uut riority' to fVfIXU tile entire sweep of the Prussians and French centres could be seen, and »consider able part of their wings. f The spot where I stood was fearful; it was amid ghostly corpses and burden ed with the stench of dead horses, of which there were great numbers. I was standing on the battle field of the 10th instant, and on the Prussian side thereof. On the leftside stretched, like a silver thread, the road to Verdun, and to Paris also, for the possession of which this series of battle had begun. It ran between a line of poplars, which stood against the horizon on my left, and as far as the eye could reach to wards Metz. W ith military regularity, strung on its road, like beads, were the pretty villages, each with its church tower, which, although they have seperate names, arc only a few hundred vards apart. On my right were the thickly wooded hills, behind which lies the most im portant village of the neighborhood, the one I had just left, Gorge. So environ ed was the foreground of the battle, which should, one would say, be called the battle of Gravelotte, for it was main ly over and beyond that devoted town that it raged. Ihe area I have indicated is, perhaps, four miles square. Owing to having come on foot rather than along the blocked road, I arrived just as the bat- warm, that is, about noon of the 18th. At that time the headquar ters of the King of Prussia were at the spot I have described. WATCHING THE BATTLE. The great representative men and soldiers of Prussia war were standing on the ground watching the conflict just begun. Among them I recognized the King, Count Bismarck, General Von Moltke, Prince Frederick Charles. Prince Carl, Prince Adelbert and Adju tant Krouski. Lieut. Gen. Sheridan, of the United States army, was also present. At this moment the French were making a most desperate effort to hold on to the last bit of the Verdun road, that between Ilezonville and Grave lotte, or that part of Gravelotte, which in so ne maps is called St. Marial. FIGHTING TWO TO ONE. Desperate, but unavailing, for every one man in the French ranks had two to cope wish, and their line was already beginning to waver. Soon it was plain that this wing of the French, right was withdrawing to anew position. This was swiftly taken up under cover of a continuous fire of their artillery from the heights beyond the village. The movement was made in good or der aud the position reached at 1.30. I believe nine military men out of ten would have pronounced it impregnable. When once this movement had been effected, the French retreated from the pressure of the Prussians artillery fire and the Prussians rapidly advanced. THE SCENE SHIFTING. The battle field was no longer about TUzonvilU. but had transferred and pushed forward to Gravelotte, the junc tion of the two branching roads to Ver dun. The fields in front of that village were completely covered with Prussian reserves, and over it interminable lines of soldiers were perpetually marching into the village and emerging on the other side of it with flamiug volley. This sccon?l battle field was less ex tensive than the first, and brought the opposing forces into fearfully close quar ters. The peculiarity of it is that it consists of two heights intersected by a deep ravine. This woody ravine is over 100 feet deep, aud is at the top some 300 yards wide. The side of the ravine next to Gravelotte, where the Prussians stood, is such lower than the other side, which gradually ascended to a great height. FEARFUL SLAUGHTER. From their commanding eminence held their armies - beifeatH them, and poured upon them a search ing fire. The French guue wero in positigp far up the Metz road, hidden and among the trees. There was nu&s'S’n instant’s cessation of the roar. J^pUj^Tljstmgtriable among all wffs the eurif>%a grunting roll of the mitrailjeurs. Jfc* The Prussian artillery was posted to the north and South of the village, the guns on the latter side being necessarily raised for an awkward vertical fire.— The French stood their ground and died by hundreds; I almost said by thous ands. This, for an hour or two, .that seemed ages, so constant was the slaugh ter. The hill where I stood command ed chiefly the conflict behind the village and to the south of it. PRUSSIANS POURING IN. The Prussian reinforcement coming up on their right filed out on the Bois des Ognous, and it was at that point, as they marched on to the field, that one could perhaps, get the best idea of the magnitude of this invading army now iu the heart of France. There was no break whatever for hours in the march of men out of that woods. It seemed almost as if all the killed and wounded revived, and came back and marched forth again. Birnamwood, advancing to Dunsinane Hill, was not a more ominous sight to Macbeth than these men of Gen. Goeberg’s army, shielded as they were by the woods until they were fairly within range and reach of their enemies. So the French must have felt, for between four and five o’clock they con centrated upon that spot their heaviest fire, massing all available guns, and shelling the woods which covered the Prussians unremittingly. Their shot reached the Barvarian lines and tore through them and tilUgh the men were steady, it was a test to which no gen eral cared long to subject his troops. They presently swerved a little from that line of advance, and there was no longer a continuous column of infantry pouring out of the woods. INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH. The attack of the Prussians in the centre was clearly checked at five o’clock; however another brigade of fresh in fantry was again formed in the woods and merged from its cover. Once out from under the trees, they advanced at double-quick. I watched their movement, or the French guns had not lost the range of the wood nor of the ground in front. Seen at a dis tance through a powerful glass, the brigade was a liugh serpent bending with the undulations of the fields, but it left a dark track behind it. and the glass resolved the dark track into falling and dying and dead men. As the hor rid significance of that path, so traced came upon me, I gazed 011 more intently. Many of those who had fallen leaped up and ran forward a little way, striving still to go with their comrades. Os these who went backward instead of forward, there were a few, though many fell as they painfuHy endeavored to fol low the advance. Ido not know wheth er, after the vain effort of that brigade, another movement was attempted. ANOTHER MOVEMENT. From within the road, half an hour afterwards great numbers of troops be gan to march over the hill where I was standing, and moved forward to the field, where as hard a struggle had been so long protracted. There also were a portion of Gen. Gobein’s troops, who had been directed upon a less dangerous route. The conflict from this point, on the Prussian left, became so fierce that it was soon lost to us, or almost lost, by reason of the smoke. Now and then the thick cloud would open a little and drift away on the wind and then we could see the French. I tried to get a better view of this part of the field. I went forward about half a mile from my new standpoint and found myself not far from Malmaison. The French line on the hills was still un broken, and to all appearances thev were having the best of the battle. But this appearance was due perhaps to the fact that the French were more clearly visible in their broad height and fighting with such singular obstinacy. STEIN METZ IN THE FIELD. These were the men and these were the guns of General Steinmetz, who there and then effected his junction with the army of Prince Frederick Charles, and completed the investment of Metz to northwest. With reinforce ments thus continually arriving on both sides, the battle grew more and more obstinate. There could be no doubt the French understood the meaning of the new movement in the Prussians and of the general development of their line to the north. N Steinmetz was able to extend his line gradually further and further, until the I Tench were outflanked and began to be threatened as it appeared, with an attack on the rear of the right wing. So long as the smoke of the Prussian guns hovered only over their front.— The distance from headquarters to where the Prussians flank attack stretched for ward was great, and to add to the diffi culty of clearly seeing the progress of the battle, darkness was coming on. I know not how long the French held out, nor at what precise moment the Prussians onset became irresistible.— What I saw was this. The puffs of smoke from the French guns mingled with the flashes, brightening as the darkness increased and receded gradu ally. r The very serious pillars of cloud and flame from the West as gradually and steadily approached, and with that ad vance the French fire became every moment more slack. EFFECT UPON KING WILLIAM. The King as he stood gazing upon the battle field, had something almost plaintive iu it. He hardly said a word, but I observed that his attention was divided between the exciting scenes in the distance and the dismal scene near er his feet, when they were just begin ning what must yet be a long task—to bury the French who fell on the Tues day before. On them lie gazed silently and I thought sadly. Count Bismark could'not conceal his excitement and anxiety. If it had not been for the King the Count would clearly have gone forward where the fighting was. His towering form was always a little in advance of the rest. TIIE END. . When the French completely gave up their hold upon the road to Grave lotte, the horses of the headquarters were hastily called and mounted. They all with the King at their head, dashed down at a point not very far from the village. Then shouts and cheers arose and followed them whenever they passed. THE PRUSSIAN LOSSES. London, August 23.—(Special to the New Y ork World: Creditable authorities assure me that Steinmetz and Frederick Charles lost over 100,000 men, leaving them no more than 150,- 000 to hold their line from the frontier to Metz. The feeling in Berlin is of undeniable horror and depression. The Green Spot. The late Noah Winslow was fond of telling the * following incident of his mercantile life, and he never closed the narration but with swimming eyes : “ During the financial crisis and crash of ’57, when heavy men were sinking all around us, and banks tottering, our house became alarmed in view of the condition of its own affairs. “ The piartners—three of us, of whom I was the senior—met in our private office for consultation. Our junior had made a careful inventory of everything —of bills payable, and bills receivable, and bis report was that twenty thousand dollars of ready money, to be held through the pressure, would save us. Without that we must go by the board —the result was inevitable.—l went out upon the street, and among my friends, but in vaiu. “Two whole days I strove, and beg ged, and then returned to the counting house in despair. I sat at my drsk, ex pecting every moment to hear our junior sounding the terrible words, “ Our pa per is protested! ” when a gentleman entered my department unannounced. I could not locate him nor call him to my mind any way. “ Mr. Winslow,” he said, taking a seat at the end of my desk, “ I hear you are in need of money.” “ The very face of the man inspired me with confidence, and I told him how I was situated. “ Make your individual note for one year without interest, for twenty thous and dollars, and I will give you a check, payable in gold, for that amount.” “ While I sat gazaing upon him in speechless astohishment, he continued : “ You don’t remember me; but I re member when you were a member of the Superintending School Committee of Bradford. I was a boy in the village school. My father was dead; my mother was poor; and I was but a shabby-dres sed child, though clean. When our class came out on examination day, you asked the questions. I fancied that you would praise and pet the children of rich and fortunate parents, and pass me by. “ But it was not as I thought. In the end you passed by all the others, and came to me. You laid your hand on my head, and told me I could do better still if I would try. You told me the way to honor and renown were open to all alike, no one had a free pass. All I had to do was to be resolved and push on. That, sir was the turning point of my life. From that hour my soul has aspired, and I have never reach ed a great good without blessing you in my heart. I have prospered, and am wealthy and now I offer you but a poor return for the soul-wealth you gave me in that by-gone time.” “ I took the check.” said Winslow, -> and drew the gold; and our house was saved. And where, at the end of the year, he added; “do you suppose I found my note? In possession,” he said, with streaming eyes, “of my little orphaned granddaughter! Oh, hearts like that man’s are what bring earth and heaven nearer together ! ” An observer says that “children are not so well-behaved since the mothers have taken to wearing high buttoned boots.” This is supposed to be a jest on the disuse of slippers for spanking pur iKises. Kumber 6. VARIETY. The cup that neither dicers nor in ebitates; Thebic-cup! Can a curl over the forehead be call ed ‘ Locke on th-t; Vnflerstanding When young ladies wager grieves, in what color do they usually pay r Smoke 1 A MAN at Atlanta, Gu. s * recently why sleeps with his mouth open, had his false teeth an adroit thief. ‘ Patrick, fill you take your stake rare or well done . “Well done, if ye photo, for it was rare enough I got in the ould country !” Two young ladies, in llaudal county, Indiana, reeenfly, waplaid and sotinly thrashed a young man who—as they ac cidently discovered— was engaged tube married to both of them. * N m . “Silence in the court-room there,” thundered a police magistrate the other morning; “the court has already commit ted four prisoners without being able to hear a word of the testimony.” A St. Louis man wants a divorce be cause his wife mauls hi in* with a hatchet. Another because his wife “lit out” after they had been married a week, and a third because he likes beer better than his wife, and can’t carry on both. Forney managed to dine at the same table with Ollivier when he was in Paris, and now he makes his two papers howl with lamentations over the retirement of “my friend.” Tiie Cleveland Leader says there are so far only forty-seven names mentioned in connection with the republican nomi nation for the supreme Judgeship of Ohio. At Morrissiana, New York, a man tried to kill another, and was let off the trial because ho was laboring under “over wrought eccentricity.” That is anew term for what old fashioned people used to call drunk. This is a progressive age. “This is a funny cheese, Uncle Joe: but where §hall I cut it ?” “Oh,” said the grinning friend, “cut it where you like.” “Very well,” said the Yankeevool lßpputting it under his arm, “I’ll cut it at home.” A woman’s rights advocate insists that divorced women hataj a right to vote un der the Fifteenth amendment, which provides that the right of suffrage shall not be denied or abridged on account of race, color, or “previous condition of ser vitude.” • telhLofa .“shretVd Jersey farmer” who bows that steal his melon, hut lets them edft ill they want and takcS his revenge wheft reading their obituary notices in the pa per the next day.” ,<5 The elephant got loose at a circus in Kentucky, the other night, and a quick witted darkey, in the panic, cut his way out through the canvas. He unfortu nately stepped from the tent into a deep creek and appeared no more. The old picture of “ Border Ruffians iu Kansrs,” published in harper’s years ago, is now being used to represent "Set tlers attacked by Indians,” by the same paper. Soon it will illustrate some in cident in the Europeou war. There is nothing like enterprise. A baboon escaped from a menagerie in Alleghany, Pa., the other day and took lefuge in a bank. The attaches left in a body, in a high state of alarm, leaving the baboon, who displayed symp toms of irate mischief, master of the sit uation. The finances were displayed in piles on a shelf resting against the wall, and among these he took his station.— Gold went up and down without affect ing the market, and greasy bank notes were flung upon the floor with terrible recklessness. Finally the menagerie man arrived and brought Jocko to terms. The damage was trifling, but the scare was as great as the Fenian Canadian stripe. The Little Corporal is responsible for the following: At one of our neighbor’s houses was a very bright little girl. It chanced once that they had as a guest a minis ter, an esteemed friend. Little Anna watched him close, and finally sat down behind him and began to draw on her slate. “What are you drawing, Anna'?” asked the clergyman. “Ise making your picture,” answered the child, So the gentleman sat very still, and she worked away earnestly for awhile ; then stopped, compared her work with the original, and shook her little head. “I don’t like it much.” she said.- “’Tain’ta great deal like you. I dess I'll put a tail to it and tall it a dog.” A Yankee having once told an En glishman on one particular occasion he shot nine hundred and ninety-nine snipe, the Englishman asked why he did not make it a thousand at once. “No,” said he, “not likely I'm going to tell a lie for a single snipe.” Thereupon the English man rather “riled,” and determined not to be outdone, he began to tell a story of a man having swam fronv Liverpool to Boston.- “Did you see him?” asked the Yan kee. “ Why, of course, I did. I was com ing across, and our vessel passed him a mi le out of Boston Harbor.” “Well,” says the Yankee, “I’m glad ye saw him, stranger, rottyer a witness that 1 did it. That was me.” The Englishman began to feel uneasy, and was heard inquiring the way to his vessel.