Calhoun weekly times. (Calhoun, GA.) 1873-1875, October 20, 1870, Image 1

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The Calhoun Times. Volume I. THECALHOUN TIMES. OFFICE OVER J. H. ARTHUR'S, RAILROAD STREET. Terms of Subscription. One Year : : : : : $ 2.00 .Six Months : : : : ; 1.25 Kates of Advertising-. No. Sq rs | 1 Mo. | 3 Mos. | H Mos. j 1 year. Two $5.00 $'.1.00 $15.00 $23.00 Four “ 8.00 12.00 25.00 40.00 \ column 10.00 18.00 35.00 45.00 1 « 18.00 30.00 50.00 75.00 j 41 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 ten lines or less, for the first insertion, sl, and for each subsequent “br!»“«» of solid H *Terms cash, before or on demand after ♦be first insertion. advertisements under the head of “ Special Notices," twenty cents per line lor first m gortion, and ten cents each subsequent insei- U \il communications on matters of public interest will meet with prompt attention, and concise letters on general subjects are re spectfully solicited from all parts ol the country. bailboads. Western Jk Atlantic. jriGUT TASSItNOtK TKVIN— OOTWARO. lm" Plants. £OO r. « Arrive «' U ** Arrite at Cbatiau. ojra o A M OAT FABSBNCER TWAIN OUTWARD. I,wve Atlanta,... M Arrive at Calhoun 12 ’] p “* Arrive at Chattanooga -4*o «* »• accomod TION TRAIN —OCTWARO. urn Atl.n.. l ;• Arrive at Dalton 8 -' jU p “■ NIOUT IVsSSKNGBK THAIN—INWARD. Leave Chattanooga. p<) p M Arrive at Calhoun H-44 P M Ariiveat Atlunt* 4 .4 a. m DAT PAS-KNOKK TRAIN —INWARD. Letve ('hattanoo a a. m Arrive at Calhoun 1() 22 A M Arrive at Atlanta 3 -‘- 7 “• ACCOMODATION TRAIN - INWARD. Leave Da'ton 2 p M Arrive at Atlanta 0(1 A M Georgia Railroad. DAT PASSKNGKR TR/ON. Leave Augusta. 7.15 A - M - Leave A'lanta. 7 50 a. m An ive at Augusta. 5.45 p. M Arrive at Atlanta. 7 10 P. m NIGUT PASSKNOKK AMD MAIL TRAIN. Leave Augusta. 9 5> p m. Leave Atlanta 545 p M. Arrive at Augusta. 4 on a. m Arrive at At anta. B.CO a. m. Maooß & Western. DAT PASSKNOKR TRAIN. Leave Atlanta. 7.55 A. u fcrrive at MhCOO. 14 P M pifHve Macnn, 7 55 a. m Arrive at Atlanta. 2.20 P. m. NTUUT KXPKB99 PV9SKNGER TBUN. Leave Atlanta 7.18 P. m. Ariive at Macon 828 a m Leave Macon 8.50 p. m Arrive at Atlanta 4.0' a m Koine Railroad. DAT TRAIN, Leave Rome TO 00 a m. Ariive at Kingston 11.80 a. m Leave Kitgston I.o<> P. M. Ariiveat Home 2.3‘* p m. Connecting at Rome with accomnda'ion train* on Selma, Home and Dalton Ruilioad, and at Kingston with up and down trains Western and Allan.ic Railroad. NIGHT TRAIN. Leave Rome 9 80 p. m. arrive at Kingston 10 45 p. m. Leave Kingston 11. lop m. Arrive at Rome 12 25 p m Connecting at Rome with through nigh’ trains on Selma, Rome and Dalton It it road, and at Kingston with night trains on Wes e*n an t Atlantic Kailro and >o Chattanooga and t o n and to Ailao’a. Selma, Koine & Dalton. PASSKNUBR TRAIN. Leave Selma 9 3Ft a. m. Arrive at R 'me 8 55 p w Arrive at Dalton U. 50 p m ACCOM MO DATI M TR AIN Leave R* me 4.45 p m Arr veat K me lg. Sop, m Leiiv Dalmn jo no a. m Tie ceomm id ,iion 1 r»> »m>s fr m Rome t JarUonv 1 at • Sr.. . vc*' t I Ihe ihri.ugti p s *>uger ’ram onl will be ru; on Sm dav. PROFESSIONAL CARDS. W. S. JOHNSON, Attorney At Law, CALUOLN, GEORGIA. Kg' Office in Southeast corner of the ! House. Aigll 1 t s I- C. FAIN. JOS. M CONNELL. fain and McConnell, Attorneys at Law, CA /, HORN, GEORGIA. Office in the Court House. Augll 1 ts u. mTtarver, Attorney txt Law, CAIRO VX. GEORGIA. &3T Office in the Court House. A »g 11 1 t s w. J. Attorney At Law. Calhoun, Georgia. tITHiL 1 ractice in the Cherokee Circuit, »!■ , 'rn' S ' DlS ! rict Court » Northern Dis trict of Georgia, (at Atlanta); and in the Su preme Court of the State of Georgia. • E. J. KIKER, Attorney ett CALHOUN, GEORGIA, at the Old Stand of Cantrell «$■ A'iA-rr.J \UIL L practice in all the Courts of the M Cherokee Circuit; Supreme Court of George, and the United States District Court at Atlanta, Ga. au g l97oly RUFE WALDO THORNTON eentist, Calhoun, . _ _ q so,icila _ OBoe over B»a ? . i Co s.„ sepls r ’fiotii7n7tl7e I< . cu i >) a here. Calhoun Advertisements. Management! CALHOUNHOTEL. E. R. SABSEEN, [Formerly of Atlanta, Ga.'] RESPECTFULLY announces to the travel ling public, that he has refurnished and refitted the above hotel, and is now ready to accommodate all who may stop with hi in Kate S moderate; and table furnished with the best the market affords. Calhoun, Ga., August 19th, 1870 ts J. and. tjnsley; WATCH-MAKER and CA LJW U$?T 7 7 7 .... o ALL styles of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry neatly repaired and warranted, augl 9’7otf OAXjHCOXTN SALE AND LIVERY STABLE! • (i. R. BOAZ, KEEPS FINE STOCK, and Vehicles to correspond, and is at all times pre pared to furnish any kind of Conveyance, AT VERY LOW RATES FOR CASH. Stock bought and sold on reasonable terms. aull,tf J. H. ARTHUR, DEALER IN STAPLE AND FANCY DRY GOODS, Cutlery, Notions &c, Also keeps constantly on hand a choice stock of FAMILY GROCERIES, In all of which purchasers are offered in ducements to buy. Aug 11 1 Cm BALLEW & MARSHALL, DEALERS IN FAMILY GROCERIES, LIQUORS, tfcc. Always on hand a good supply of BACON, LARD, ELOUR, MEAL, SUGAR, COFFER, RICE, CIGARS, TOBACCO, CONFECTIONERIES, And, in fact, a full and complete assortwen of Staple and Fancy Groceries. We also keep one of the best Stocks of Wines and Liquors in this part of the country. If you want good, fresh Groceries, or Fine Old Whiskies, Brandies, or Wines, give us a cull. trull,3m W. W. RLASINGAME, Main Street, next floor to H. C. Hunt, CALHOUN, GA. Dealer in Foreign and Domestic WINES & LIQUORS, CIGARS, TOBACCO, CONFECTIONERIES, &c. VLWAYS on hand Superior old fashioned CORN and RYE WHISKEY, Pure, Cognac Brandy, Sherry, Madeira and Port WINES, expressly for medicinal purposes. Pure Old Peach, Apple and Blackberry Brandies always on hand. . Give me a call if you want Good Liquors, fits?” One complete set of BAR FURNI TURE for sale. null.3m A. INUHRAM, DEALER IN DRY GOODS, GROCERIES, DBoots and Slioes STATIONERY, HARDWARE, r i IN WARE, CROCKERY, SADDLES, BRIDLES, And many articles too numerous to men tion. My stock is complete, my goods new and Iresh, and 1 am determined not to be undersold. Give me a call, at Gordon’s old stand, on Wall Street. All k'nds of country produce received in exchange for goods, rad highest market prices given. J. H. G AVAN, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALER IN Fine Wines, Liquors & Cigars, No. 11 Granite Block , Broad Street, - ATLANTA, GA. AGENT FOR THE SALE Os TIIE Celebrated Cincinnati LAGER BEER and ALE sept 29 For the State of Georgia. 3ra G H. & A. W. FORCE, SIGN OF THE BIG IRON BOOT, Whitehall Street, : : : Atlanta, Ga BOOTS. Shoes a'sd Ti links, a cninpletp Sh e! and new Goods arriving daily ! Oe 's’ Hi o'B and Shoes, of the be*t mafcis. I. and o-’ Shoe< of a’l kinds. Boys. Mieses and Children’s Shoes of everv grade and make. f-if We er. prepared to off*r inducements to tA hotesale Trade. sep'2 ,’IO-ly Two River Farms For Sale. ONE, two anu a half miles north of Resaca, on the W. & A, R. R.—containing about 500 acres—two settlements. One, one and a half miles north-east of Re saca—containing 100 acres. Will be sold at a bargain if early applica tion is made to J. H. BARNETT, sept2’7o-3m Resaca, Ga. Gordon County Farmers, whenever you visit Rome don’t fail to call on DeJournett & Son for Groceries. 3 AIH ° DN ' GA " THURSDAY,- OCTOBEB soT^a POE TRY. SPmiT-BROKJEN3 = BY BARIT LYNDON. Sad, spirit-broken, what have I To do with fickle hopes or fears? No dread have I of future years, No hope, except to die. Sad, spirit-broken, left alone,— But first I will bedeck her tomb V ith violets of sweet perfume, While winds, in requiem, moan. Sad, spirit-broken, whtt am I Except a lowly, clu one? Whose only work wdl soon be done, B ith life a constant sigh. Sad, spirit-broken, all is lost; My feeble heart is cleft in twain: Sad, spirit-broken, where go 1 When life has reached its final close ? Oh ! shall I, like the faded rose, Swept from the memory, die ? Sad, spirit-broken, let it be, For day will soon subdue the night, And I shall wing, in happy flight, My stolen love to see. [77te Folio. Cling to Those who Cling to You. There are many friends of Summer, Who are kind while flowers bloom, But when winter chills the blossoms, They depart with the perfume. On the broad highway of action Friends of worth are far and few; So when one has proved his friendship, Cling to him who clings to you. Do not harshly judge your neighbor, Do not deem his life untrue, If he make no great pretensions, Deeds are great, though words are few. Those who stand amid the tempest, Firm as when the skies are blue, Will be frisnds while life endureth, Cling to those who cling to you. When you see a worthy brother, Buffeting the stormy main, Lend a helping hand fraternal, Till he reach the shore again. Don’t, desert the old and tried friend, When misfortune comes in view, For he then needs friendship’s comforts, Cling to those who cling to you. THREE KISSES. I’ve had three kisses in my life, So s sveet and sacred unto me, That now, till death-dews rest on them, My lips shall kissless be. One kiss was given in childhood’s hour, By one who never gave another; In life and death I still shall feel That last kiss of my mother. The second burned my lips for years, For years my wild heart reeled in bliss At every memory of the hour When my lips felt young love’s first kiss The last kiss of the sacred three, Had all the woe which e’er can move The heart of woman—it was pressed Upon the death-lips of my love. When lips have felt the dying kiss, And felt the kiss of burning love, And kissed the dead—then nevermore In kissing should they think to move. Translated from-German for Calhoun Times. Death and Sleep. Joined as brothers, the angel of sleep, and the death-angel wandered over the earth. It was eventide. They laid them selves down on a hill, not far front the habitations of men. A mournful silence reigned round about, and the little even ing bell ceased its chime in the far off village. Still and silent, as their wonted custom is, the two benevolent spirits of humanity sat in affectionate embrace, and day was shading deeper into night. Then, the angel of sleep arose from his moss-grown couch, and with soft hand, scattered the invisible seeds of slumber. The gentle breezes bore them to the quiet home of the weary countryman. Sweet sleep descended upon the inmates of the rural cottages, from the aged man with his staff, to the infant in the cra dle. The sufferer forgot his afflictions, the mourner his sorrow, and poverty her cares. All eyes were closed. His task completed, the kind angel of slumber reposed again with his more solemn brother. “When morning awakens,” cried he in joyous innocence, “then will men praise me as their friend and benefactor! O, what delight, secretly and unseen to do good! How happy are we, the invis ible messengers of God. How beauti ful, our quiet vocation.” Thus spake the friendly angel of sleep. The death angel looked upon him in silent sorrow, and a tear, such as the immortals weep, stood in his large, dark eye. “Alas,” said he, “brother, I cannot rejoice as you, in the gratitude of men. They regard me as their enemy and peace destroyer !” “0, my brother,” replied the augel of sleep, “will not the good man at his awakening recognize in thee his friend and benefactor, and thankful bless thee? Are we not brothers, and the messengers of God ?” So he spoke; then the eye of the death-angel bright ened, and tenderly the brotherly spirits embraced each other again. Oarjileo. miscellany. [Written for the Calhoun Times.] Rose Daisy : Or, the Bound Girl’s Fortune. BY JENNIE HOWK. . , _ May 23d, ISG9. 10-night lam sixteen. Two more Jong, weary years I must drag out in tlDs hf e of drudgery, that I lead.— Mother, Mother, would that the life you P'ftVP mn . >.i J gave me had went out with yours, or thou could st have lived to protect thy orphan child! But why do I repine*' In two more years I shall be free. Ah' f two long weary years. Why am Iso much worse off than Lilly Rooker ! She is but an ordinary looking girl, while I j am very beautiful. My mirror tells*™, wealthy young" tfirctm^ J w4fo l ’AuN'r&bKmvrj '• heated in Mooresville, is to call; and Lilly is afraid my beauty will captivate him before her’s. Miss the bound girl, she is jealous of me—of my beauty. She shows it every day. She is singing now. “ Lilly is quite a passable singer, and she is proud of it, but; hark; another voice joins her’s. 0, what a rich voice; how it thrills through every fibre of my being! Can that be Dr. Stanley? it must be; yet it is the same voice of the stranger I met in the woods yesterday, who spoke so kindly to me after fright ening me so, shooting the poor bird so near me. How frightened I was; and he was frightened too. He thought he had hit me. instead of the bird. How little he thought those two heavy baskets of chips, I was carrying were to cook the dainty Miss Lilly's dinner. He supposed me some poor person’s daugh ter, obliged to pick up chips for a living, and if I had told him I was Miss Root er’s bound girl, sent out to pick up chips because every cent of their limited income that could be, must be saved to dress Lilly, he would not have believed me. But it is really so, and while 1 filly sits in the parlor and receives company, or lies on the Sofa and reads novels, I must lug chips, scrub, wash and do all her sewing, and even to-night I am ex pected to work on a piece or embroidery until eleven or twelve o’clock, and it is not their fault th t I have thrown it a side and taken the pen. But I must take it up again, and bid good night tc thee, my Journal. May 24th.—We have met again, Dr. Stanley and I, this morning in my usual ramble for chips. I had gathered some wild flowers to make a boquet for my little broken pitcher in my room. My baskets were both full of chips, and 1 had seated myself to rest and arrange my flowers in a boquet, previous to secreting them about me before I got home, as I should get a scolding for waisting my time if they were seen. I had just got them arranged and was ad miring them when a voice at my side said, “ what a pretty bouquet!” Had a thunderbolt dropped at my feet, I should nut have sprung up sooner. I was trembling, and I suppose very pale. “ What; have I frightened youagain ? lam very sorry indeed, if I have. You were so busy you did not hear me come up. I have been here some minutes, though, S lid Dr Stanley, for lie it was. i tried to smile as I answered, I did not think an other human being was in the woods, and I must say I was fright ened when you spoke.” “ I hope you will forgive me, then.” “ 0, yes.” “ Who are those flowers for ?” “ No one but my self.” “ Will you sell them ?” “ Do you wish them ?” “I do.” “ Then I will give them to you freely. And now I must go; I have loitered too long.” “ You will tell me your name, will you not, little friend?” “ Certainly. It is Rose Daisy.” “ A pretty name truly. You are as beautiful as the rose, and as meek as the daisy.” lie bent on me a look from those dark eyes of his that sent the blood rushing to my face, for I was timid. Taking a card from his packet, he gave it to me. saying. “ Here is my card, I hope we will meet again some time.” I took the card and read, “Dr. Rupert Stanley.” “ Th_n you are Dr. Stanley,” said I, as if I had just been made aware of the fact. “Then you have heard of me,” he said, just as though any body living in “ Mooresville ” had not heard of Dr. Stanley. “ Then I must be quite popu lar, hey ?” “ O. no more than any other wealthy young man would be,” I replied care lessly, and taking up my baskets bade him good morning and started home with light feet and a strongly beating heart. What care I for the scolding 1 received for staying away so long?— What care I for the pain in my side and head to-night. What care I, if I must finish that of embroidery to n>gkt ? I shall work on and on, not minding the time, for I shall be thinking, thinking. Ah! thinking.” May 25th.—Again we have met: there is a fatality in this, or has lie purposely sought me this morning ? Ido not like to believe he has. I am pretty, quite young and friendless, he is handsome and rich. 0 ! I wish I would never see him again I must go every day to gather chips, and if he wishes to seek me. he can and will. But I will be so cold after this, that he will wish to see me no more. lie nm to gather hiui wme flowers to-morrow moraine and he would be there to receive then!.' I rc used I am glad I did. He told me Ue asked who lived here, hv the ? >is T- tad been answered nobody bnt “Mrs. Hooker's bound o n 50 “ e knows me now. How man\ questions he asked about the Rouker s. 1 did not tell him all. He was so astonished that I should be pick- Z"P chi l- Ido no, know Uat T!k "u T , ch , ar,tabi «- I once though, I should delight to tell hiu, all. 1 feel very strange to-night. My head aches so bad. and is so hot too. I must retire. Good night Journal. J am up again, for I cannot go to sleep, and perhaps I may forget iny pain> )j wntiug. hat a pretty night fll/LLlu ? 00 ? shinc sso brightly Os Weans through it. llow dizz) lam, July 20th. —I am once ’more aWeTo take my pen, and I will try to recall some of the events that have happened since I last saw T thee, my Journal. The last I remember is of writing in thee, then all is blank for six long weeks.— They say when Mrs. Rooker went to call me next morning, I was raring in a fever. Mrs. Rooker was frightened, and sent for Dr. Dudley immediately. Dr. Dudley not being at home, the messenger brought Dr. Stanley, who pronounced my disease an over tasked strength, and said, I might never get well. Mrs. Rooker then denied me being bound to her, as she had always said 1 was her bound girl—she told Dr. Stanley she took me, to keep me from the poor house. She apprised the se lectmen of my illness, and requested them to remove me immediately. But Dr. Stanley happened to call about the time the waggon come for me, and he sent them away, and had me removed, the same diy to Mrs. Hayes. She and her daughter Kate, cared for me all through this long illness. Good, kind Hrs. Hayes and noble Dr. Stanley, how shall I ever pay them for their kindness ? I am well now. and free, I can work, get wages and pay them. Dr. Stanley called this morning, brought my diary to me. tie has had it ever since the first morning of my illness. Seeing it was on the stand at my bed side, he looked into it, and seeing what it was, put it in his pocket, carried it away with him. I am glad he did. I should not "have liked for Lilly and her Mother to have read it. July 29th.—I am well enough to go to work again. I’ve engaged a place of Mr. Compton, the Tailor. He gives me more than enough to pay my board while I’m learning, and I think sewing will agree with me more than house work, until I get stronger. There comes the Doctor. I must go down and tell him my plan. I went dow r n found Mrs. Hayes and the Doctor in the sitting room. Mrs. Hayes arose as soon as I went in. saying, “I will leave Rose to enter tain you. as l have some household affairs to attend to,” and left the apartment. We were alone, and I related to him the news I had to tell, and told how anxious 1 was to get to work, and how kind Mr. Compton was to pay me two dollars a week for my work. All the time he sat drumming on the table with his fingers and never replied to a word. When I paused, he said. “ Is that all.” Y T es.” said 1. He left his chair, and took a seat on the sofa by my side, saying. ‘‘Well you are in luck—going to work for two dollars a week, before you are hardly strong enough to leave your bed. But I should like to know' what is to become of me.” “ Os you,” I asked, astonished. “ Yes, of me; you belong to me, and I shall have a word to say about it. I say you shall not go.” “ I cannot be a burden any longer; I must go to work, sir.” ‘•And you shali, if you will promise it shall be on your wedding “ trousseau.’' “ I do not understand you.” I felt his arm about my waist as he drew me towards him, saying “Be mine little Bose, my own little wife.— Hush you need not say no; you love me. 1 know it—l read your “ J ournul.” you know. You loved me then but did not know it. You love me now. I have seen it every day in those brown eyes of yours, and as for me, I have loved you since the first time I met you. O, yes, you are the little star of my 1 fe; don’t say no Rose; say \oj3, and make me the happiest man alive. I really do not know whether I said yes or not. It is all arranged, and to morrow Kate Hayes and i are going to M to select the bridal u trousseau." Sept, 2d.—l have been so busy I have not had time to write a word for more than a month. Every thing is ready at last. The wedding robe lies on the bed bet re me. It is a plain white alpaca. 1 vv. uld h ive it so, although Rupert had seiected a white moireuntique. In those trunks, ready p icked, are dresses “ Lilly Hook er ” never dreamed of. Lilly has not called on me. and I am not sorry. Last night, May Stanley (Rupert s sister) and I met her. but she never spoke, or seemed to notice us.— May is a dear good girl, how 1 love her already, she only came on Saturday, to be present at our wedding. We shall be married to-morrow morn ing at nine o’clock, and start on the 11 o’clock train for Rupert’s home —where we shall spend the h<>ney-moon. After ward we will return to Mooresville, and board with Mrs. Hayes until the now bouse, now building, is finished. for to-momw 1 msy will have another name and Science vs. Luck. BY MARK TWAIN. At that time, in Kentucky, (said the I on. Mr. Knott. M. C„) tile law wa! very against what is termed • games of chance.” About a dozen oi he boys were detected playing “seven p, or old sledge for money, and he grand jury found a true bill »g*i llst . Stur F is *•*» rained to do- i* j . i , "“f*" 3 "•«» retained to de lend them when the case came up, 0 f course. The more he -tudied ov/r the matter and looked into the evidence, the £uu!7 r u&u WJ &few’An* Ww.v,j t chance. Even public sympathy was • nf St.nrins. People successful career with a big prominent case like this, which must go against him. But after several restless nights an inspired idea flashed upon Stnrgis, and he sprang out of bed and lighted. He thought he saw his way through. The next dty he whispered around a little among his clients and a few friends, and then when the case came up in court he acknowledged the seven up and the betting, and, as his sole defense, had the astounding effrontery to put in the plea that old sledge was not a game oi chance! There w T as the broadest sort of a smile all over the faces of that sophisticated audience. The Judge smiled with the rest. But Sturgis main tained a countenance whose earnestness was even severe. The opposite counsel tried to ridicule him out of his position, and did not succeed. The Judge jested in a ponderous judicial way about the thing, but did not move him. The matter was becoming grave. Ihe Judge lost a little of h is patience, aud said the joke had gone far enough. But Sturgis said he knew of no joke in the matter— his clients could not be punished for indulging in what some people choose to consider a game of chance, uutil it was proven that it was a game of chance Judge and counsel said that would b an easy matter, and forthwith called -UeuC-iiis Job, Peters, Burke and John sou, and Dominies, Wirt and Miggles to testify, and they unanimously and with strong feeling put down the legal quibble of* Sturgis, by pronouncing that old sledge wits a game of chance. “ What do you call it now ?” said the Judge. “ 1 call it a game of science !” retort ed Sturgis; “and I’ll prove it, too.” They saw his little game. He brought in a crowd of witnesses, and produced an overwhelming mass of testimony, to show that old sledge was not a game of chance, but a game of science. Instead of being the simplest case in the world, it had somehow turned out to be an excessively knotty one. The Judge scratched his head over it awhile, and said there was no way of coming to a determination, because just as many men could be brought into court who would testify on one side as could be found to testify on the other. But he said he was witling to do the fair thing by all parties, and would act upon any suggestion Mr, Sturgis would make for the solution of the difficulty. Mr. Sturgis was on his feet in a second: Impannel a jury of six of each, Luck vs. Science—give them candles and a couple of decks of cards, send them into the jury room, and just abide by the result!" I here was no disputing the fairness of the proposition. The lour deacons and two dominies were sworn in as the “chance” jurymen, and six inveterate old seven-up professors were chosen to represent the “ science ” side of the issue. They retired to the jury room. In about two hours. Beacon Peters s nt into the court room to borrow three dollars from a friend. [Sensation.] In about tw r o hours more, Dominie Higgles sent into the court room to borrow a “ stake ” from a friend. [Sensation.] During the next three or f >ur hours the other Dominie and the other Deacons sent into court for small waul. And still the packed audience waited, for it wis a prodigeous occasi n in Bull’s C rner's, and one in which every father of a family was necessarily interested. The rest of the story can he told About daylight the jury came in, and Deacon Job. the foreman, read the following. VERDICT. We, the jury in the case of the Cor. - monwealth of Kentucky vs. John Wheel er et. al.. have carefully considered the points of the case, and tested the merits of the theories advanced, and do hereby unanimously decide that the game corn ea uly known as old -ledge, or sev* n up, is eminently a game of science ; ud n t of chance. In demonstration whereof, it is hereby and herein sided, iterated, reiterated, set forth and made manifest, that, during the entire night, the “ chance ” men never won a game or turned a jack, although b th feats were common and frequent to the opposition ; rnd furthermore, in support of this, < ur verdict, we call attention to the tignifi ctmt fact that the “ chance ” men are all busted, and the “ science ” men have got the money. It is the deliberate opinion of this jury that the “chance” theory concerning seven-up, is a per nicious doctrine, and calculated to in flict untold sufferings and p.cun a-y 1 sa upon any community that takes stock in it. “ That is the way that seven up catnr Umbel? H. I® |k sot apnrt and particulariied tl,» i sU,uu ' l>uol ‘ s of Kentucky as bcine a gaiue not of ehancc but of accat ld there ,Te not pumshahle under the iA” «.d Mr. Knott. That verdict £ 'f record, and holds good to this day •• ' * How much Milk and Butter Will a Cow give ? D.p Farming. io a f l ir°ro der 720 BalK ’ ns (2-880 quart.) . t * urii 1,1 * year fora cow and quant.,, Os milk, if the W n t contain more than eiehtv r moisture, will produce two hundred a ud pftfiVd' tn buu*. no mao five gallons or twenty quarts, was the highest vield of one eow. He was evi eight cows, lie states that 48 cows ac tually gave throughout the year an aver age of 84 gallons daily, or 30,660 gal lons, or 11:2,640 quarts in one year.— Again, in the farmers Almanac , I find it stated that a Ilolderncss cow gave 29 quarts daily, yielding one pound of but ter from each twelve quarts. An Ayr shire cow gave 20 quarts daily, yielding one. pound of butter from nine and one hall quarts; an Alderney cow gave 19 quarts, yielding one pound of butter from twelve quarts; and a Devon cow gave seventeen quarts, yielding one pound of butter from nine and three fourth quarts. Os course these last are exceptional cases, but your own corres pondent gave his actual experience of one year ol a dairy of 48 cows. Now I reckoned on 3,000 quarts, but 1 al lowed twelve quarts to produce one pound ot butter, which gave two hun dred and fifty pounds in a year, instead ol two hundred and sixty-one pounds. ■■ Burning \Y ells.” —A correspon dent ol the \ icksburg Herald , writing from fckipwith’s Landing, lssaqmna c >ui.ty, September 4, furnishes the f al lowing particulars of the remarkable dis covery of burning wells’ in the county: ‘ About a week ago Mr. Shanks, a gentleman engaged in sinking “Kam sey s driven wells in this county, re ceived an order to sink a well upon the Walnut Ilidge plantation, owned by Gen. Hampton, lie proceeded with the process of driving until he had ob tained a depth of sixty-eight feet with out procuring water. At that distance some hard substance was unexpectedly encountered, which obstructed the fur ther progress of the well. “ Instantly, from the top of the pipe, a volume ot gas was seen to issue, re sembling somewhat the rise of heat from the surlace of a stove. A match being applied, the gas instantly ignited, burn ing wLh a clear and brilliant flame, forming a column of fire several feet high. Ihe search after water being thus far arrested, three other pipes were sunk afterward in the near neighbor hood of the first, lut in all the same phenomenon was the result. These wells burn with an undiminisbed lustre, aud a strong effort is required with a hat or a fan to extinguish them. A light, however, being applied at any time to the end of the pipe, the flame will burst fourth as before.” European Wars of the Past. The numbers enlisted in the present war, by the way, are curiously sugges tive ol the fact that the world is getting no better fast when compared with the numbers engaged in former European wars. At Marengo (1800) there were 28,- 000 French and 30,000 Austrians; 13,- 000 killed or wounded. At Austerlitz. 90,000 French, 80,000 Austrians and Russians; 23,000 killed or wounded. At Jena, 100,000 French, 100,000 Prussians; 34,000 killed or wounded. At Wigram, 150,000 French, 130,- Austrians: 24,000 killed or wounded. At Botodino, 125,000 French, 125,- 000 Russians; 80,000 killed or wound ed. At Leipziz, 200,000 French, 280,000 allies ; 50.000, killed or wounded. At Waterloo, 70.000 French, 00,000 English ; 15,000 killed or wounded. At Solferiuo, 135.000 French, and Sardinians, 130,000 Aistrians; 27.000 killed or wounded. At Konigsratz, 200.000 Prussians 200.000 Austrians and Saxons ; 28,000 killed or wounded. In the present war there are already engaged 800,000, of which the majority by 50,000 or more are on the Prussian Side. At this moment Prassia has near ly a million available (armed) men, in cluding garrisons, Ac., and no doubt France can. under stress, got nearly the same number. But unquestionably the late Prussian conquests have made Prus sia a more round forty millions of popu lation than France.—A". Y. World. A little girl of fout, the daught er of one c f the brave Colonels of the r rmy of the Rhine, was saying her pray e s on her mother’s kneeD'Cod preserve my diar papa, and let him kill a good many ] rutsiai s ” Mamina reminded the chi and that perhaps some little Ger man girl w?is praying that God would help h?r father to kill a good many French. “Oh, that doesn’t amount to anything," she replied. “Why not?" “Becai s: God doesn't understand Ger man.” There are eighty eight agricultural societies in Georgia. Illinois raises the most wheat, and lowa comes next,