Calhoun weekly times. (Calhoun, GA.) 1873-1875, September 29, 1870, Image 1

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The Calhoun Times. Volume I. THE CALHOUN TIMES. OFficToVER A M. ARTHUR S, RAILROAD STREET ,■ Terms of Subscription. One Year : : : : : Six Months-. : : : : : l - Zo Rates of Advertising. No. Sq’rs V>k | 3 Mos. <> Mos. 1 year. TfrZ iMO SROO $15.00 $25.00 Four « 8.00 12.00 25.00 40.00 l column 10.00 18.00 35.00 45.00 i “ 18.00 30.00 50.00 75.00 \ u 3Q.00 50.00 75.00 140.00 Ml subscriptions arc 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 ten lines or less, for the fir«t insertion, sl, and for each subsequent insertion, fifty cents. Ten lines of solid Brevier, or its equivalent in space, make a h ' Terms cash, before or on demand after the first insertion. Advertisements under the head of “ Special Notices,” twenty cents per line for first in nertion, and ten cents each subsequent inser- All communications on matters of public interest will meet with prompt attention, and concise letters on general subjects are re spectfully solicited from all parts of the country. • RAILUOAI)S._ Western & Atlantic. NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN —OUTWARD. Leave Atlanta P ‘ M * Arrive at Calhoun... 12.15 a. m. Arrive at Chattanooga 3 80 a. m. DAT PASSENGER TRAIN—OUTWARD. Leave Atlanta 8.15 a. m Arrive at Calhoun 12.51 p m. Arrive at Chattanooga 4.20 P. m. ACCOMOD TION TRAIN —OUTWARD. Leave Atlnnta 530 p. m. Arrive at Dalton 3.30 p. m. NIGUT 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 INWARD. Leave Dalton 200 p. m Arrive at Atlanta 9.00 A. m. Georgia Railroad. DAT PASSENGER TRAIN. Leave Augusta. 7,15 a. m. Leave Atlanta. 7 00 a. m. Aniveat 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 545 p m. Arrive at Augusta. 4.00 A. m Arrive at At anta. 8.00 a. m. Macon & Western. DAY PASSENGER TRAIN. Atlanta. 7.55 a. m Arrive at Macon. 1.4 u p. m Leave Macon. 7.55 a. m Arrive at Atlanta. 2.20 p. m NIGHT EXPRESS PASSENGER TR UN. Leave Atlanta 7.18 p.m. Arrive at Macon 3.23 a. m. Leave Macon 8.50 p. m . Arrive at Atlanta 4.46 a m. Koine Railroad. DAY TRAIN. Leave Rome 10.00 a m. Arrive at Kingston 11.30 a. m. Leave Kingstou 1.00 p. m arrive at Rome 2.30 p m. Connecting at Rome with accomoda'ion trams on Selma, Rome and Dulton 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 Selma, Rome and Dalton R i I road, and at Kmgston with night trains on Western and Atlantic Railroad io Chattanooga and trom aud to Atlanta. Selma, Rome & Dalton. PASSENGER TRAIN. Leave Selma 9.30 a.m. Arrive at Rome 8 55 p m Arrive at Dalton ILSO p! m’. ACCOMMODATIOM TRAIN. Leave Rome 4 45 p m Arrive at Rome 12.30 p. m. Leave Dalton 10.00 a. m. The accommodation train runs from Rome to JAcksouville daily, Sundays excepted. he through passenger train only will be lun on Sunday. PROFESSIONAL CARDS. W 7 S. JOHNSON, Attorney AL t Law, CALHOUN, GEORGIA. rj Southeast corner of the IAuY»I Au Y» i tr 1 c. fain. ~ ~ : JOS. M CONNELL. pain and McConnell, VI lon H . Vs at Law, CALHOUN, GEORGIA. Office in the Court House. u g U 1 ts k. m^tarve^ X^w, CALHOUN. ; GEORGIA. i n the Court Houge W. jT~CANfkELL7 Attorney i „ n * V 1 l . Laliioun, Georgia. W “\, P r»£ !" li* Ch "?k««» Circuit, Ifict Os Georgiu ° Urt ’ Nort hern Dis- "** Su ' a3 * t * R'kku, lAl\' <nd standf tand °f Cantrell $ Kiker. I m Cherokee circuit*! 11 5° Ur, ; s ° f the w DHnVa''ila ieUuit0 ’ i S^te^DfstiS^oui-f T>tt™ - *ugl 9 ’7oly ' S thornton; fnANKpiifc-v- ‘ G ' 'iioi a. POETRY. A SUNSET MEMORY. Once, as fell the shades of evening, At the close of the long day ? Sat we, in the lengthening shadows, In the old time, far away— Sat we, till the stars came gleaming Through the twilight soft and gray. We had watched the golden sunset Fading in the crimson west, While upon the glowing hill-tops Clouds of amber seemed to rest, Till the twilight closed around them, In her hazy mantle dressed. Then I listened to the story That his lips so fondly told; Words of passionate devotion, Words of love that ne’er grow cold ; Filling all my heart with lightness. Threading all my life with gold. Always, when the sunset glory Trails above the western hills, All the music of that story Through my inmost being thrills— Tunes my sad heart to rejoicing, And with peace my spirit fills. Since I first Love’s nectar tasted, Years have swept to Time’s abyss— All Life’s choicest hopes been wasted; But my visions now of bliss In that other Life are founded On the one glad hour in this. Years may roll and tempests gather, Storms may cloud youth’s azure sky, Brightest locks may blanch to silver, Frosts of Time may dim the eye. But a pure heart’s first devotion Always lives—it cannot die. A SERENADE. I sing beneath your lattice, Love, A song of great regard for you ; The moon is getting rather high— My voice is, too. The lakelet in deep shadow lies, Where frogs make much hullaballoo ; I think they sing a trifle hoarse, And love, me too. The blossoms on the pumpkin vine Are weeping diamond tears of dew; ’Tis warm; the flowers are wilting fast; My linen, too. All motionless the cedars stand, AVitli silent moonbeams slanting through, The very air is drowsy, love, And I am, too. Oh, could I soar on loving wrings, And at your window gently woo! But then your lattice you would bolt, So I’ll bolt, too. And now I’ve done my serenade, Farewell! my best regards to you ; I’ll close with one (French) word for all, And that is tout. God’s Law Perfect. —An eminent lawyer, who had notread the Bible, and was doubtful about its being God’s word, asked a Christian friend to tell him what books he should read to satis fy his mind. His friend said, “Read the Bible itself." The inquirer thought his question had been misunderstood.— He wanted some books that would say something about the Bible. But his friend said : No, I will not send you to other books. Read the Bible for yourself." The lawyer obtained a Bi ble. “ W here shall I begin ?" said he. “Oh, begin at the beginning, and read it through !" The Christian called upon him and was delighted to find that he continued to read. One day the friend found the doubter walking up and down his room full of thought. He inquired what subject occupied his mind so com pletely. I have been reading,” said he, “ the moral law of the Book of Exodus." “ Why what do you think of it ?” *’ Y by, I have been trying whether I can add anything to it, but I can’t and I have considered whether there is any thing that can be taken from it, so as to make it better, and I cannot. It is perfect. Making Newspaper s. —Every column of a newspaper contains from five to twenty-thousand distinct pieces of metal according to the size of the paper and type. The displacement of a single one makes an error. Is it any wonder that errors occur ? In large offices professional proofreaders are kept, whose practiced eyes passing twice over every line of proof, detect most of the errors; a boy kept for that purpose, at the same time reading the copy aloud. Still mistakes are frequently found after coming through such hands, and pro bably no newspaper or book nvus ever published without errors that might be discovered by the merest notice. In book printing it is estimated that proof reading costs one-quarter as much as the composition. In country offices the edi tor has to be his own foreman, job printer, book-keeper and almost every thing else, and. if the saum care had to be exercised that is deemed indispens able on books, the common country newspaper could not be published at all. because of the expense. Oi jD Bill W— was dying. He was an ignorant man, and a very wicked one, Dr. D— —, an excellent physician and a very pious man, was attending him. The old fellow asked for bread. The doctor approached the bedside, and in a very solemn tone remarked, “My dear fellow, man cannot live by bread alone.” “No,” said the old fellow, slightly revi ving, “he’s ’bleeged to have a few wege tables!” The most laconic will on record, is that of a man who died in 1780. It runs thus: “I have nothing; I owe a great deal; the rest I give to the poor." CALHOTJN, GA, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 39, 1870. MISCELLANY. The Unexpected Rival. BY KATE CLAIR. Brightly glowed the fire in the polish ed grate and brilliant flashed the light from a dozen glass jets, throwing through crimsoned curtained windows a rieh glow upon the snow covered pavement without; speaking to the weary-hearted, toilworn children of pov erty passing by to their cheerless homes, of warmth and comfort and blessings which might never be theirs. Within the curtained room, where naught seemed wanting of beauty or luxury, a young girl stood behind the drapery, gazing out into the stormy night, and tapping her little foot im pa.tion.tly on the floor, wliilo an expres sion of angry discontent shadowed a face perfect in its outline and coloring, marring sadly its otherwise exquisite loveliness. The snow fell thick and fast, and but few pedestrians ventured abroad; none but those who were compelled by ne cessity to brave the chilling blast and blinding storm. Suddenly with a gesture of vexation and disappointment she dashed the folds of crimson, and advanced to the fireside, exclaiming: “ Its provoking, intolerably provoking. Here I have been watching for that girl one hour. What does she mean by this delay ? I shall be raging ! I am disappointed of my dress this even ing of all others." “ Why surely, Ella, you are not going out in this tempest ?” said a noble look ing silver-haired man who entered the room, just in time to catch her words. “Indeed, but 1 am, Guardy. Doctor Hunter is coming for me to go to Mrs. Eriston’s ball, and I would not miss it for the world. I am determined to crown me reigning belle of the season, by bringing him to feet if possible be fore another day dawns. He is the best match in the city, and I mean to secure him at once. The girls are crazy about him, and I long to triumph over them." “ You speak confidently," said Mr. Revere, “so I shall expect to wake up in the small hours of the morning with tidings of success." Turn we now to another home, the abode of poverty, where Mary Gray, the young seamstress, is bending over her work, a richly embroidered dress, whose silver lilies of the valley, with richly tinted blue bells, are artistically wrought to graceful patterns on a ground work of white silk. It is the dress for which the beautiful heiress is waiting—the dress in which she expected to capture the best match in the city. Very lovely is Mary Gray, though no rose bud tint blossoms on the pure white of her complexion—very lovely, though her glorious eyes, shaded by long silken lashes, are dimmed with watching and tears. Her fingers fly nimbly over her task nearly completed the payment for which is to bring supplies to those who for two days have scarcely tasted food— her invalid mother and little sister Lucy, who is nestling at her feet, crying with hunger. The work is completed at last, and Mary, the child fondly to her side, says soothingly : “Hush, darling! hush! sister is go ing to take home the dress and bring you a nice little feast. Twenty-five dollars we’ll have for this, won’t we be rich, my pet?" Tears filled her eyes, but she brushed them hastily, away, as a well known rap at the door was heard, followed by the entrance of an elegant looking man; who holding out his hand to Mary, said pleasantly : “ I am earlier than usual this even ing, but I am obliged to escort a fair lady to a ball at 10 o’clock, and thought I would look in on my patient before making my toilet." “Oh, Doctor, how can I thank you for your kindness ?" said Mary, raising her sparkling eyes to his face, but drop ping them again instantly as she met the warm gaze of admiration in his, while crimson blushes brightened her face into new beauty. “ Mother is worse, I fear, doctor," said Mary. “ She seems quite exhaust ed this evening." “ Has she had proper nourishment to-day ?" “ Mamma has had nothing to eat to day. doctor," broke in Lucy, “ and sister and I havn’t had anything either but dry bread, but sister is going to get some money to-night." “ Hush! Lucy, said 3lary, while a painful look of embarrassment fell upon her before bright countenance. “ Doc tor. excuse her. she talks too fast." An anxious, inquiring gaze rested on her, aud in a voice trembling with emotion, the doctor exclaimed : “ Mary, is it indeed so." She bent her head in assent; but after a moment of silence, found voice to say: “ I shall have money to-night." Giving hut a glance at his patient, whose pale face spoke of suffering and want, even in sleep, he left hastily.— And Mary, folding her work, and care fully placing at her mother’s side the medicine she might need on waking, at the same time charging little Lucy to stay by her in her absence, she started out in the fierce storm to carry the dress to the heiress, who sat chafing at her delay. Mary’s father had once been rieh but crushed by adversity, he died and left his family poor, and his wife an invalid Dr. Hunter had known them in their days of prosperity, and on his return from the continent a month previous to our story, had sought them out and offered his services gratuitously—an offer gratefully accepted. He knew they were poor, but never till Lucy’s revelation had he dreamed of the extent of that poverty. Her loveliness had made a deep impression on his heart, and when he left them that night, it was in the resolve to shield them in the future, under his protecting love, from all life’s cares and sorrows. It was indeed a fierce storm that Mary was to encouuter on her way to Mr. Revere’s splendid mansion, and her progress was necessarily slow. As chilled by the stinging blast, and blinded by the snow, she staggered up the steps of the handsome mansion and rang the bell, a sleigh dashed up to the door, and when it was opened to the girl, a gentleman alighted and ran up lightly, passing in eve it w,as closed, and saying to the servant: “ I will wait for Missf Ella in the drawing-room. Mary started ; she knew the voice of Dr. Hunter, and not wishing to be re cognized, drew her hood closely around her face. “Poor girl, what a night for a woman to be abroad," said the doctor. He little dreamed who he was pity ing. Directed by the servant, Mary tapped lightly at the door of the opposite room. It was opened by Ella Raymond in a towering rage, her face distorted by passion. “So you have come at last," she ex claimed, angrily; “two hours behind time. I did think, Mary Gray, you were poor enough to have that one vir tue of punctuality." “ I am sorry I have disappointed you, Miss Raymond. I have set up three nights until day-break to complete it in time, but my mother has been very ill and needed care which must be my excuse." Dr. Hunter, in the drawing-room, caught the silvery accents, and—forgive him, reader, listened. “ What is your mother’s sickness to me ? You promised the dress at seven and now it is nine. Your excuse is a poor one." “ Believe me, I regret it, but it was impossible for me to be earlier. You will oblige me, as I am in haste, if you will now pay me for it and let me go." “ Pay you, indeed! Not I. I’ll punish you for your tardiness. I’ll teach you to make promises and break them. Just as many hours as you have kept me waiting for my dress so many days will I keep you out of your money." “Oh, Miss Raymond, you cannot be so cruel! My mother is ill,and needs nourishment, my little sister is starving; and I depend on this twenty-five dollars from you to supply their wants. I must have the money." “Not from me," said Ella, with a taunting laugh, as she shut the door in her face and turned into the room to admire the exquisite garment. Faint from want of food, and crushed by her disappointment, Mary left the abode of xvealth not knowing where to look for help in her trouble. On the pavement, still bright with the rich tint from the crimson curtains she slipped and fell insensible. Strong arms raised her tenderly and lifted her into the fur lined sleigh at the door, and swiftly it sped homeward. Her fit of insensibility, produced by exhaustion and distress, was a long one, and when she awoke to consciousness, warmth and light were around her—while at the table, on which was spread a comfortable meal, sat famished little Lucy, eating to her heart’s content—her head was pillowed on the breast of Dr. Hunter, his arms enfolding her. Blushing she sought to withdraw from his embrace, but bending over her he wffiispered : “ No, darling, lie still close to my heart sheltered by love. No more pov erty, no more sorrow, if you will only give me the right to shelter you from it, dear one.” Trembling with happiness unspeak able, Mary hid her face against his shoulder; gently turning it towards him, he looked down into the depths of her wonderful eyes and reading there how fully his love was returned, pressed a fervent kiss upon her lips, and rising led her to her mother for her consent to, and blessing on their union. The clock struck ten, and the doctor said, with a fond glance at Mary: “ I must leave you now Hseep my appointment with the heiress. She must display my darlings work at the ball to-night or die of vexation.” The expectant fair one waited half an hour for the tardy escort, but no look of anger on her beautiful face, no discord ant notes marred the harmony of the soft sweet tones with which she chided Dr. Hunter for his want of punctuality. It was just one month since the night of Mrs. Eriston’s ball. In that time Dr. Hunter had bought and furnished an elegant residence on Fifth Avenue. He was weary of single life, he told his friends, and was preparing a cage for the bird of his choice. Invitations were out for a grand house-warming, at which the world would know the select bride of the best match in the city. Every one fixed their eyes on the belle of the season, and were confident that the charming heiress, to whom of late he had been paying marked atten tion. was the envied one. “He will certainly propose to-night, Guardy," she said to Mr. Revere, as she stood before the glass arranging her graceful ringlets. “ You will not have me on your hands much longer." “ Disappointed once, Ella," he an swered.” you may he again. Still you may wake me if you come home engag ed to Dr. Hunter." The rooms were crowded as Ella, superbly dressed, swept into the splendid hall, she expected won to call her own. Many curious eyes were turned upon her as she passed with queenly grace to the reception room, and reached the spot where the host stood with a lady beside him in bridal attire, “lovely as a poet’s dream." She started and turned pale, but re covering her self-possession advanced, while he holding out his hand, greeted her as friend, then leading her gently forward he presented her to his bride. Stupefied she gazed on the face of Mary Gray, despised seamstress, uttered an hysterical shriek, and fainted away. She had indeed met an unexpected rival, and the shock of seeing the child of poverty elevated to a position her am bitious hopes had led her to believe would be her own; was too much, even for pride to conceal. Mary, ever considerate, came to her side. “It is the heat," she said to the in quisitive crowd. “Do take her to the conservatory, and leave her with me." Need I describe the recovery; the shame and remorse on one side; the charity, which thinketh no evil and for giveth all things on the other. The heiress returned home humbled and saddened, having learned a lesson that might never be forgotten. She did not as may be imagined, awake her guardian, nor did he wonder when he read in the morning paper of the surprise Dr. Hunter had prepared for his friends. Comfort and happiness soon restored the invalid mother to health, and found ed the form of little Lucy, who never complained of hunger. To Mary, life flows on like a fairy dream, brighter far by contrast with the past; and we need hardly add, that Dr. Hunter has never ceased to bless the night of storm in which he opened his arms and heart to take into their warm shelter the poor unpaid seamstress, Mary Gray. A Veritable Ghost Story. Many of our readers remember the daring exploits of Jerome Clarke, alias Sue Mundy, the notorious guerilla and robber during the war, and his subse quent execution in Louisville by the military authorities. The story of his life and crimes has been revived iu a very singular manner. For some weeks past the people living near Eighteenth and Broadway, the place of his execu tion, have been startled by strange sights and sounds. The ghost of Sue Mundy has been flitting across the com mons, in the vicinity of the fatal tree, at all hours of the night. Sometimes alone, and with his hands pinioned be hind him and the fatal cap drawn over his eyes; again dangling in the air with a rope around his neck, struggling as if in the agonies of death. At other times he was accompanied by the girl, who so fondly and truly loved him, all steep ed in crime so he was, and to whom he wrote as affectionately with his man acled hands a few hours before his death. Many of the people were skepti cal on the subject, and attempted to solve the mystery. The strange couple were seen by hundreds of people, but always when closely approached mys teriously disappeared—vanished into thin air. Every attempt to solve the mystery only tended to deepen it, and many of the people of the vicinity finally believed that the objects that they saw were Sue Mundy and his phantom bride. The ghost got to be a real terror, aud the nervous maidens and children were afraid to venture out after dark. The ghosts finally got to be such an annoy ance that the police were appealed to, and on Sunday night last Lieut. J. Shelly was informed that the ghosts were in full view. He went to the spot sure enough, and saw the tall form of a man. with a female all dressed in white hanging on his arm, walking slowly in the direction of the fatal tree and finally take a seat. He went up to them rapid ly, when the female in white suddenly disappeared, or at least seemed to do so. The Lieutenant hastened on and seized hold of the man, and the ghost story was at an end. The man was real flesh and blood and the female in white had not disappeared. She had only thrown a long black cloak over her white dress, thus concealing her from view except upon a close inspection. They were a couple of lovers, who, for lack of a bet ter place, had chosen the fatal tree as a trusting place, not knowing its history. As there is no law prohibiting courting, the Lieutenant released them and ex plained the matter to the terrified peo ple.—Louisville Courier Journal. Arithmetical Questions. Per haps it may add to the interest of the following question to state that it is sev eral centuries old: “The Three Graces, bearing each the same number of apples, met the Nine Muses. Each one of the Graces gave to each Muse an equal num ber ; when they all, Graces and Muses, had each the same number of apples. How many did each of the Graces have at first, and how many did each one give away ?’’ ■<»»•■ A prodigal returned to the home of his brother and sister in Pontiac, Mich igan, the other day, was received with open arms, ate the fatted calf and all that sort of thing, and in two days after, built a nice fire with kerosene oil under the bed chamber in order to burn them to death and secure the property. “With a sewing machine one woman can do as much sewing now as a hun dred could a century ago," said a politi cal economist. “Yes, and one woman now requires as much clothing as a hun dred women did a century ago. and that makes it just even," said the wife of the political economist. A Heart-Rending Calamity in Roane County West Va. A gentleman just from Roane county gives the particulars of a most heart rending calamity that happened last week on Spring creek in that county, by which one family was bereft of four children :in less than an hour. A lady whose name our informant had forgotten, residing upon the above named creek, had went down to it in the morning for the purpose of doing “the week’s washing," taking with her the youngest child, an infant about a year old, leaving her other three at the house. While engaged at her work she heard suppressed screams at the house; taking up her little child from the soiled cloths upon which it was sitting, she placed it in an epipty wash tub to keep it from crawling into the creek during her absence, and hastened to the house, where she met her eldest child with its head frightfully disfigured and swollen. She hastily gleaned from this one that the three children had crawled under the house in search of eggs; that while under something hurt them, aud that the other two were still uuder the house. The mother, upon looking under the house, found them dead, with several mocasin snakes (a very poisonous and deadly species) crawliug around their bodies. The neighbors were alarmed, and by their assistance the snakes were killed, and the unfortunate children taken out, their bodies presenting a frightful and sickening appearance. By this time the elder oue was a corpse. The mother iu her despair and agony had forgotten until now her little one at the creek, aud upon going down to the creek for it, it was only to find it also a corpse iu the creek. It is supposed the little child climbed up in the tub, aud was holding on to the lower edge of it when the tub upset, rolling the child into the water below and drowuing it. It is said the mother’s grief was so great that at last accounts she was a raving maniac. —Point Pleasant Journal. Sound Doctrine. The following from the Liverpool Mail, discloses an important fact, and no person can deny that this new test of willingness iu debtors to pay, is based upon common sense: We were not aware until recently, that many newspaper publishers are consult ed, to a large extent, by people in order to ascertain the peculiar standing of per sons. Debts for newspapers become due once a year, and persons who pay up regularly once a year, for their papers, are considered prompt men and worthy of confidence. We had a person come into our office the other day; and say: ‘Do you send your paper to Mr. W V We replied that we did. ‘Well,’ said the man, he owes me £5. and I can’t get it ; I don’t think he’s good.’ We looked secretly at his account, and found him paid up. We then replied to the enquirer, ‘That man is good. Your debt is safe. He may have forgotten it. or something else may have prevented his paying, but he is good.’ The man’s eyes brightened. Said he, ‘I have written to several printers, and could not find where he took a paper. I thought of you and said I would come here.’ Said he again after a pause, ‘This is the way to find out whether people are good. Wc ascertain what papers they take, and, contrive some way to peep into their accounts. Men who are good are very sure to pay for their news papers ; and if they do not pay for these, we don’t think them good. We were forcibly struck by the idea. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘I will send my bill by the post.’ In a few days the person came in again. Said he, ‘I sent my bill.’ Well, did he pay you?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ and opening his hand he showed us the draft. ‘There,’ said he, ‘give me a printer’s book after all, to tell whether a man’s good, there’s a complete thermoneter; we always knowed a man to be bad if he don’t pay the printer.’ Betting Extraordinary. — Th e New York “Star," in an article on bet ting, relates the following: A distinguished physician was called to attend an inveterate better, who was attacked with a sudden and dangerous illness. After a careful diagnosis, the doctor assured him that his eoudition was extremely critical, aud his chances of recovery very doubtful. Thereat the patient rallied somewhat, and the follow ing colloquy ensued: “I’ll bet you a hundred dollars. Doc tor, that I don’t die." “My dear sir, you may not; hut I think it proper to advise you that, in my opinion, you will.” “Well, Doctor, if I die, will I go to heaven ?’’ “I hope so, sir." “Will I be an angel ?" “Yes. sir." “Will I have wings?” “I presume so, sir." “Well, now Doctor, when you die will you go to heaven and be an angel ?’’ “I trust so, sir." “And will you hare wings too ?" “Yes, I suppose I will.” “Well then. Doctor, I’ll bet you a hun dred dollars I will out-fly you." The man died, but the Doctor, who has not yet taken the bet, still lives. The blooming young lady who has not been taught to make bread, wash dishes, and do general house work, is the complefcest thing we know of—to make a young man miserable—in case he mar ries her, which he noir no one else should do. The girl who has not energy suffi cient to learn those first lessons, is not worthy of a husband. Ns umber S. VARIETY. An Albany girl suicided because an other girl wouldn't marry her brother*. There are two reasons why some peo ple don’t mind their own business. One is that they hnvn*t any business, and the second that they have no mind. An old bachelor says women are like parrots; they are willing to be caged up it* they only have a ring to play wish. A widower was recently rejected by a damsel who didn't want affections that had been ‘ warmed over." Tiie Sultan of Turkey is a game-cock. Surrender or no surrender, he says lie' will stand by Napoleon. A YOU no lady, about to be married, says she will not promiso to “love, hon or and obey/’ but iustead, "love, honor aud be gay." A young man recently married it Beloit helped his wife, while courting, to sew together rags enough to make 60 yards of carpet. A widow recentley married a Wis consin farmer, and, alter living with him three days, disappeared, leaving him three children to “raise." Giiils sometimes put their lips out poutingly because they arc angry, and sometimes because t they are disposed to meet you half way. A VERY domestic and devoted wife says she cares more for her eccentric husband’s income than she does for his out-go. An Indiana man had a fainting tit while being married, the other evening, and died soon enough to avert the com pletion of the ceremony. “What would you be, dearest," said Walter to his sweetheart, “if I were to press the seal o f love upou those sealing wax lips ?" “I should be stationary." A GENTLE widow in Martin county, Indiana, piously watches over the graves of six husbands, aud patiently prays for the seventh. “The Prussians attacked Nancy, yes terday," said a young man to his grand mother. “Well, well," said the old la dy, wiping her spectacles. “ I didn’t think they’d be mean enough to strike a woman." A tiresome talker once said to a public man he had incontinently bored : “An oyster is pleasant to eat. though re pulsive to look at." “Yes, but then he knows when to shut up," was the reply. The following lines were found on a lawyer’s table in the Rochester court house after the adjournment of court the other day : Fair woman was made to bewitch ; A companion, a nurse, A blessing, a curse. Fair womau was made to bewitch 1 A carpenter, working on the top of a house, happened to fall down through the rafters. “Oh !" said a bystander, “I like such a fellow mightily, for he is a man that goes through his work !" “Willyer honor take a cab" said a London cab-driver to a gentleman.— “No, thank you, I am able to walk," said the gentleman. “May yer long be able, but seldom williu’ I" was the witty reply. “Why were you not up with the lark this morning, as I last night told you to be, sir ?" said an irate father to his sluggard son. “The reason that I was not up with the lark this morning was because I was “on a lark" last night, sir." Hungry Dinner—“ Trouble you for some more bread, landlord. I always eat a good deal of bread with my meat." Laudlord—“So I see, sir! And a good deal of meat with your bread." A Missouri “grass widow" recently married, on condition that her husband should consent to resign his position in case No. 1 should at any time make his appearance. A Landlord went to a tenant with l a view of increasing his rent, and said to him. “Neighbor, I'm going to raise your rent." “Thank you sir." was the reply, “for I am utterly unable to raise it my self." A Ouit MAN shoemaker having made a pair of boots for a gentleman of whose financial integrity he had considerable doubt, made the following reply when he called for the article. “Der pools are not quite done, but der beel ish made out." A Milwaukee sausuage maker has the following placard over his counter ; “Oh, the pup, the beautiful pup ? Drinking his milk from a china cup: Oaiuboliug around no frir-ky and free. First gnawiug a bone, tlicu biting a flea : Jumping. Running. After the pony ; Beautiful pup. you w ill soon be bologna ‘ The pleasant story of an organized band of pirates, operating on the Hud son ltiver, is the last blood-curdling sensation served up to the dwellers on that beautiful stream by the New York papers. It is asserted that the combin ed efforts of the Newburg police, the Cold Spring Vigilance Committee and special detectives, in connection with the recent Cold Spring robbery and murder, have led to the discovery of an extensive confederation oi outlaws ex tending all along the river, whose at> complices are probably residents at vari ous towns; that they go from place fc> place on pleasure yachts and other crafts, committing depredations of all kinds. — It is certain that burglaries have beea very numerous all along the river this season.