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rpilE above Hold is located within Twenty
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Ivorything furnished good to eat.
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Call and see ms.
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'" 4 '‘ s * ua Georgia.
lee in Southeast corner of the Court Houeo.
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1 ts
]\ t J. Cantrell; ;
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_ CALUOU.V. GEORGIA.
\ SDUt, '-£“*t Corner of Court House. J
W p h L P , ractice in all the Courts of the
G«o l ti a er ° k ! e L r,rCI,U; Supreme Court of
at Xat and r the Unitefl States District Court
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B KV - A MARTIN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
' •'•knwo. ~
v
1870 if
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ir i A IK,
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*UIOCX t : : : . GEORGIA.
PsatlyTem V ' at(A,of< and Jewelry
g U I> "aruvnted.
VOL. 11.
The Past.
BT JOHN G. WHITTIER.
Who, looking backward from his manhood’s
prime
Sees not the spectre of his misspent time?
And, through the shade
Os funoral cypress, planted thick behind,
Hears no reproachful whisper on the wind
From his loved dead ?
Who bears no trace of passion’s evil foree ?
Who shuas thy sting. 0 terrible remorse ?
Who does not cast
On the thronged pages of memory’s book,
At times a sad and half-reluctant look,
Regretful of the past?
Alas! the evil wh ; ch we fain would shun
We do, and leave the wished-for good undone;
Our strength to-day
Is but to-morrow’s weakness prone to fall j
Poor, blind, unprofitable servants all
Are we always.
Yet, who, thus looking backward o’er his
years,
Feels not his eyelids wet with grateful taars,
If he huth been
Permitted, weak and sinful as he was,
To cheer and aid in some ennobling cause,
His fellow-man ?
If he hath hidden tho outcast, or let in
A ray of sunshine to the cell of sia—
If he hath lent
Strength to the weak, and in an hour of need,
Over the suffering, mindless of his creed
Or home, hath bent—
lie lms not lived in vain. And while he gives
The praise to Him, in whom he moves and
lives,
With thankful heart
He gazes backward, and with Hope before,
Knowing that from liis works he nevermore
Can henceforth part.
"4 -*a ►
Ja>vc Song.
I’d offer tliee t hi* hand of mine
If you but had the dimes,
But purses short and slim as thine
Won’t do for these hard times.
I leave thee in thy wretchedness
As one too poor to mate,
For love you know can only ble->a,
When based on real estate,
THE SS3YUS AUGURY.
It was in 1858 that, young iu my pro
fession, I settled in Greyburn. 1 had
spent uiy fall term at college, and had
also given almost two years of my time
to studying and practicing in the hos
pitals ; and I am pleased to be able to
state that shortly after settling in the
afore-mentioned place, I had as much
business as I could attend to.
In two or three cases of fearfully
threatening aspect, I had met with hap
py success; and a successful man peo
ple are willing to trust. Then, again,
being fresh from the very best surgical
school in the world—the Academy of
Louis XV. in Paris—l very quickly and
emphatically made my mark upon the
public mind in the result of several cap
ital operations which I had occasion to
perform.
I had been almost a year in Grey
burn, and had become so well satisfied
with the people, and’they in turn had
given token of being so .well satisfied
with me, that I had fully concluded to
regard it as my permanent abiding
place.
It was on a clear, pleasant evening in
May, that I was visited by a gentleman
from the neighboring town of Boxbor
ough. He had called during the day
in my absence, and had left his card
with word that he Bhould remain in
town until he could see me.
The card bore the name of Adam
Gregory, D. I).,” and 1 knew him at
once for the principal in the theoLgical
seminary in the town mentioned.
He was a middle aged,mild faced gen
tleman, with one of those marked or
ganizations in which no amount of in
tellectual or mental disturbance can over
come the inmate disposition to kindness
and frankness.
Mr. Gregory took a seat in my office,
and regarded me attentively before he
introduced liis business. I knew very
well that he was measuring the outward
signs of my fitness for his purpose.
Presently his hands were suffered to
rest one within the other, and the haze
of suspense passed from his face. Than
he told me his errand.
II is daughter Cordelia —his only
daughter—he feared was dying. She
had been failing for several weeks —he
might say months—though only lately
he had been really alarmed. He had
called in the best medical skill of his
town, but without avail.
Physicians who had seen her were of
opinio# that her disease was consump
tion, and incurable ; but not one of them
had arrived at a satisfactory diagnosis
of her case. He had called upon me.
Would I come and examine, and pass
my judgement?
I told him I would.
On the morrow I rode over to Box
borough, and easily found Mr. Grego
ry’s house. It was one of the prettiest
and most sensible looking dwelling’s in
the place.
1 found the sick girl in her chamber,
dressed in a loose morning robe of vio
let colored cashmere, and reclining upon
a lounge. \
She was nineteen years of age, of
medium stature, and I thought at the
time—ns I think now—the fairest and
most beautiful maiden I had ever seen.
I Wig interested, and resolved that if
help lay within my power it should be
forthcoming.
She evidently read my feelings, for
-he very soon evinced that my presence
tvas not disagreeable to her. She had
told her lather that she diu not care to
see another physician, and this had been
told to me, so that I was thus induced
to approach her kindly and gently.
I will not trouble the reader with the
particulars of my examination. Suffice
it to say that from the patient herself I
could gain nothing save that she was
CALHOUN, GA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 29, 1872.
growing weaker ever day and every
hour.
As for consumption not one of the
marked symptoms was present. Her
lungs were sound and intact.
1 spent an hour with her and engaged
her in constant conversation,and I found
that she had no hope of living. She
was as one who had made up her mind
to droop and die.
As I arose, at the end of an hour,
ahe said to me with a faint smile:
“What do you think, Doctor V*
Her smile startled me. It seemed to
say :
“I trust you arc not going to dispute
me—you will nut mock me by trying to
help lne/'
I anstvered her that I was not yet pre
pared to give an opinion. I wished,
however, that she would allow me to
remove the medicines which other phys
icians had ordered, as I was satisfied
that they were doing her no good.
She thanked me with gushing grati
tude*. But would I leave any medicine ?
“For the present,” I told her, “I will
leave only a little wine. Have you any
objections to that ?”
She had none at all.
In- the hall I met her father. To his
anxious inquiries - 1 could only‘answer
that I would call again on the morrow.
I told him his daughter had no organic
disease —I was sure of it. This gave
him hope.
On the following day I saw Cordelia
Gregory again, and spent another hour
by her side.
So, for a week, I visited her daily, I
should have been less than human, had
I not in that time learned to love the
sweet, gcntle-natured girl. Had my
heart been already another’s, I should at
least have given her a sister’s place; but
my heart had been all mine own until
she possessed it. '
And in a week’s time she had come
to welcome me with a brighter kindling
of the azure eyes, and a warmer flush of
tha fadiug cheeks. And yet during all
this time I had been utterly unable to
analyze her disease. She was failing
just as the rippling brooklet fails when
its fountain is drying up.
On my seventh visit, as I sat by her
side, with her hand in mine, I drew her
nearer to my bosom, and eagerly cried :
“Cordelia, oh, for my sake, live !”
She answered :
“ I have not cared to livs until now;
but it is too late ! too late ! I am dying !
dying! dying!”
She wept upon my bosom.
I knew that moment that Cordelia
Gregory was the victim of sonffe strange
hallucination. Something was wearing
her life away through her imagination.
She had made up her mind to die,
and nature was gradually but surely
succumbing to the mental force. I
dared not then question her.
When I next joined her father I
asked him if his daughter had any fe
male friend whom she particularly trust
ed as a confidante.
There was one —a Mary Lakin—who
had recently removed to a distant part
of the country. She and Cordelia had
been like sisters until within two months
when the removal of Mary had sepa
rated them.
“We must send for Mary Lakin,” said,
I, “and I must see' her before she sees
our patient.”
Mr.Gregory was ready to do anything.
Mary Lakin was sent for, and she came
—a bright-faced, true-hearted girl—just
such a one as I should have supposed
would win the confidence and love of
Cordelia.
I sat down with her and gave her
to understand what I wished. She
started when I told her what I thought
was the matter with her friend, and af
ter a little reflection she laid her hand
upon my arm and looked up earnestly
into my face.
“ Doctor,” she said, “ I am reminded
of a circumstance which had almost
slipped from my memory ; but your fears
for Cordelia bring it back very vividly
to my mind.”
She then told me that nearly a year
before a band of gipsies had been en
camped on the outskirts of the town,
and of their number there w»3 an old
Sibyl—a dark-eyed, weird-face woman,
whose whole make up was awe-inspiring
and mysterious—a woman who told for
tunes, and concerning whom wonderful
stories were related.
One day a party of us visitei the
gipsy camp, and the sybil intercepted
us. I allowed her to tell my fortune,and
others of our party did the same. She
not only prognosticated for the future,
but she told things of the past with
marvelous accuracy.
At length she approached Cordelia,
but the girl would not submit. The
sibyl persisted, and Cordelia resolutely
refused, at the same time declaring that
the calling was an impious one.
At length the beldame, in a spiteful
way, drew forth from her bosom a bit of
reed, like a piece of dried elder stalk,
and having split it she took therefrom
a pellet of paper, which she gave to Cor
delia. bidding her to take it home with
her, and not to open it save in the pri
vacy of her own chamber.
Tlien the old woman hobbled off, and
our attention was immediately attracted
by other matters.
Several times after that I asked Cor
delia what she found in the paper the
sibyl had given her, but she never gave
me a direct answer, though she would
have had me believe that the thing
amounted to nothin at all.
I remember it all Very well now, and
I can also remember that the last time
I spoke to her of the gipsy’s pellet, she
started as though the subject gave her
pain, and of course I did not recur to it
again.
“ Go to Cordelia,” I said “and find
out what was in that paper Do ndt
use my name. Let her not know that
you have seen roe. Your revelation
gives me the light of anew hope. Go
and make no failure.”
On the following day I met Mary
Lakin in Mr. Gregory’s parlor, She
had found the paper.
“I have acted both traitor and thief,”
she said, as she put out her hand
“First, I won Cordelia’s confidence by a
pledge of secresy; and next, I stole this
paper from a secret compartment of her
writing desk.”
“This,” said l, “is the paper which
the gipsy gave her.”
“ The very same.”
Mary gave it to me, and I took it in
my fingers and opened it. It was a tri
angular bit of letter paper much worn
and soiled, and bore characters written
with vermillion ink. The writing was
cramped but plain and distinct; and this
was what was written :
“Maiden now so bright and fair,
Os the future take no care.
Within the twelvemonth next to come,
Thine early pilgrimage is done.
Bear in mind the mystic date,
No power on earth can change thy fate !
Sixth month—fifth day—lßsß.”
I read the strange missive and, re
read it, then looked at Mary Lakin.
“ I remember it all very well,” she
said, “ it was on the fifth day of June,
one year ago, that we were at the gipsy
camp.”
“And this is the paper which the sib
yl gave to Cordelia V*
“ Yes.”
“And Cordelia believes it true ?”
“Yes. She has told me that she shall
die before the day therein sat down is
passed.”
I see it all now. The poor girl had
hidden that fatal augury away, and had
allowed it to occupy her mind until it
had gained actual ascendency.
She had brooded over it in fear and
trembling, and all unconsciously, her
finely strung and sensitive nature had
fallen a prey to the terrible influence.
“To-day,” said I, “is the 29th of May.
If left to herself Cordelia will die be
fore the sth day of June is pflSsci.—
She is so far a passive victim under the
fatal shadow of that augury. We must
get her over that sth day alive. If we
can do that she is saved ”
“How can we do it ?” asked Mary.
“Will you help me ?”
“ To the very last possibility of my
power,” was the reply.
“ Then,” said I, “ you shall be her
nurse. Let her know nothing of our
meeting, and above all, hint not that I
know of this sibyl's augury.”
This twenty-niuth day of May was
Tuesday, and the fifth of June would
come in just one week—the very next
Tuesday.
Ou Wednesday I visited my patient,
and she introduced me to her dear frjend
Mary Lakiu, and we acted our parts so
well that she suspected not that wo had
met before. She said that Mary would
remain with her. Os course I was
glad.
I had prepared with great care a
sleeping potion as powerful as I dared
to administer, and I had furthermore
taken Mr. Gregory into my confidence,
and also the old nurse, a family relative.
“To-night,” said TANARUS, in my final charge
to Mary, “do you keep Cordeiia awake
as much as possible, and before daybreak
give her the sleeping mixture. Watch
her narrowly, and let no noise be made
in the house ”
As I had directed, Mary Lakin suf
fered no sleep to visit the patient’s eyes
until well on towards Thurday morning,
when at three o’clock, she administered
the opiate in a bit of spiced wine.
In a short time Cordelia fell asleep,
and the little mantel clock upon the
dressing case was stopped. When the
day broke the room was thoroughly
darkened, aud the hush of midnight
reigned.
She slept until five o’clock on that
Thursday afternoon, and as she gave
signs of awakening the clock was set
going. Her nurse sat ju3t as she had
sat fourteen hours before.
“ Have you been asleep, Cordelia?”
The p&trent- sat up and looked around.
“ Is this you, Mary ?”
“Yea.” .
“ Vs hat time is it ?”
“Why—are you wandering? You
have just taken your wine. Do you
want more ?”
Cordelia looked at the clock. The
rays of the nurse’s lamp fell upon its
face, and she saw that it was half past
three.
“ I thought I had slept,” she said.
Mary laughed, and told her she had
no time to sleep.
Presently the patient asked for drink,
and another opiate was administered.
In this way we brought her over to
Friday morning, and she had lost a day.
It was the morning of the first day of
June, and she thought it was Thursday,
the last day of May.
I was sure she could safely bear a
repetition of the experiment, and more
over, I was anxious to be a3 far on the
safe side as possible. During this Fri
day which she thought to be Thursday,
I administered invigorating cordials,
and during this same Friday night Mary
Lakfn continued to keep her charge
awake as before.
At half past three on Saturday morn
ing the opiate was administered in a
draught for which the patient had called
of her own accord, and sound sleep was
the result. The clock was stopped, and
the windows battened, and all in the
house put upon orders of silence.
The sleep lasted until past two o’clock
of Saturday afternoon, at which time
Cordelia awoke, finding Mary by her
side with the goblet in her hand. The
nurse lamp was burning lowly, its rays
falling upon the dial of the clock, which
was ticking away at the hour of four.
As before, Mary adroitly led her
charge to believe that since taking her
draught she had only dropped off into
a momentary do2e, and that it was now
four o’clock in the morning.
Cordelia, asked for more drink, and
thus an opportunity was offered for giv
ing the last opiate, which I had pre
pared with the utmost care.
Cordelia slept again, and awoke not
until the dawning of the Sabbath morn
ing. She had lost another day, and
thought full sure that the morning
beams were for the ushering in of Fri
day.
Mr. Gregory bad made an arrange
ment with the sextons of the two vil
lage churches that the belli should not
ring ; so the day passed, and the patient
dreamed not how' the time had slipped
away.
She was living through Sunday, the
third day of June, and she believed it
to be only Friday, the first day of June.
On Monday, I administered cordials
stimulating and invigorating. Tuesday,
the fatal day came, and Cordelia tried
to smile as we gave her assurance of
returning health. But her smiles were
of resignation, not of hope.
On that Tuesday evening, which to
her mind was the evening of Sunday,
she held my hand and asked me to be
with her on the morrow.
“ Tomorrow,” said she, is the fourth
of June. I would like to have those
whom I love near me on that day. I
shall be permitted to spend that day
wit ti them ; but I may not spend an
other.”
I kissed her brow and promised that
I would obey.
Wednesday morning came—the sixth
day of June, bright, calm and beauti
ful. By my directions Mary had ad
ministered a generous stimulant, and
our patient was feeling the thrill of a
now energy.
It was near the middle of the fore
noon, and Mr. Gregory and Mary Lakin
and myself were in the cheerful cham
ber to which the golden glories of the
June sun had been admitted.
Cordelia was in a large easy chair, and
by Mary’s persuasions she had suffered
herself to be arrayed in one of her pret
tiest Wrappers —a French silk, with vi
olet ground, and wrought with flowers
in green and crimson and gold.
I sat by her side, and of her own
accord, she had given me one of her
hands. Mary Lakin was at a little dis
tance upon the other side, while her
father sat before her,
“My darling,” said Mr. Gregory,
with .a bright smile upon Iris kindly
face, “ I want you to gain strength und
get well before your birth day, because
Dr. Bunton and myself Lave planned a
graud festival for that occasion.”
“ All!” replied Cordelia, with a shake
of the head, “ that day is too far away
for me to reach ”
“ Only to-morrow,” said her father.
“ You mistake, my dear father. My
birthday is the seventh of June.”
“ Exactly, my blessed one.”
“ To-day,” said Cordelia, “ is ©nly the
fourth.”
“ Now, my child, it is you who mis
take. To day is the sixth.”
“ This is Monday ?”
“ No—this is Wednesday.”
Sh® looked bewildered; and after
gazing for a time into her father’s face,
she turned to me. It had been left for
me to assure her. I drew her hand and
held it there within both of mine own.
“ Cordelia,” I said, “ pardon us for
the means ve hare adopted for showing
to you how foul and false are all unholy
spells cast by impious lips upon that
current of life which Heaven alone di
rects. Your father tells you truly.—
To-day is Wednesday, the sixth day of
June. We have taken you over two
days without your knowledge. You
slept long, long hours when you knew
it not. It was the gipsy sibyl who
spake falsely. Yesterday was the fatal
fifth day of June, and yet here you are,
bright and well, with Heaven’s own
blessed sunlight round about you, as the
sunlight of ten thousand joys shall
make radiant your path in the future.”
In a little she comprehend the whole.
The fatal day was past and gone, yet
she lived and was blessed.
She rested upon my bosom on that
blessed June day of the other years,
and this same bosom is her resting place
to-day, and my strong arms still entwine
her and hold her close; and as I kiss
her and gaze into her face I meet
the sweet and loving smile of
one of the truest and noblest compan
ions that ever made man’s pathway
bright and blissful.
Heri l* the most dog-goned affec
tionate sample of amatory poetry that
we have ever seen :
When old Oarlo sits in Sallie's chair,
Oh! don't I wish that I were there !
When her fairy fingers pat3 his head,
Oh ! don’t I witfh ’twas -me instead !
When her arms his neok imprison,
Oh! don’t I wish my nock was his n !
When Sallie kisses Carle's nose,
Oh ! don’t 1 wish that I were those ! .
“Johnny, where’s your pa?"
“ Gone fishing, sir.”
“ He was a fishing yesterday, was he
not ?”
“ Yes sir."
“ What did he catch V*
“ One catfish, the rheumatism, two
cels, the toothache and some little ones.
Ma says he’ll catch fi g to-day, Just
wait till he gets home.”
O
Years of Cold in Europe.
The recent severe cold weather iu
Europe has called forth the following
facts, whieh appeared in the Journal des
Debats :
In 359 A. D., the Buxine was frozen
over.
In 508 the rivers of England were
frozen over for two months.
In 558 the Black Sea was covered
with ice for twenty days, and in 763
the ice was SO feet thick.
In 821 the Elbe, the Danube, and the
Seine were frozen during four weeks
In 1323 the Mediterranean* was en
tirely frozen.
In 1405 Tamerlane made an incur
sion into China, and lost his men,
horses and camels by the excessive cold.
In 1320 Paris experienced so groat
cold that the city was depopulated, and
animals fed on corpses in the street.
In 1413, at Paris, snow fell during
forty days and forty nights incessantly.
In 1469, iu France and Germany,
wine was frozen so hard that it was cut
in blocks and sold by weight.
In 1570 the intense cold lasted three
months, and all the fruit trees of Prov
ence and Languedoc were destroyed.
In 1607 provisions and fuel became
so scarce on aecount of cold in Paris
that a small bundle of kindling-brush
cost 40 cents. The cattle froze in their
stalls, and the Seine could be crossed
by heavy carts
The year 1709 was one of intense
cold all over Europe, and mass could
not be said for many weeks in certain
provinces, because the wine could not
be kept in a fluid state.
In 1736, in Chinese Tartarv, the ther
mometer fell ninety seven degrees below
zero—Fahrenheit.
1740 was a winter of such rigor in
Russia that the ice palace was con
structed at St Petersburg 51 feet long
and 17 feet wido. Six ice cannon were
mounted on the walls, and two
mortars for bombs. The cannon held
balls of six pounds weight, were charged
with powder, and discharged, so that
the ball pierced a board two inches
thick at a distance of 60 feet. The
cannon did not burst. Its walls were
less than ten inches in thickness.
1765 was a year of intense oold, also
1778. Since that year the cold has
never been as great in Paris until last
year, wheu for the first time in
a century Jack Frost came again to the
tuns of 21 below zero centigrade.
Sensible Words About Adver
tising.—T he following is from the fi
nancial article of the New York Jour
nal of Commerce:
People who sit nervously in count
ing houses or behind their goods, wait
ing for customers to take them by storm,
and making no effort to let the world
know the bargains they have t» offer,
will find the season very unpropitious.
Many of those who have spent large sums
in hiring drummers and paying for oth
er well known appliances of trade, have
effected large sales, but swallowed up too
large a share of the receipts in such
enormous attendant expenses. The
best remuneration haa been found by
those who have returned to mere legiti
mate, old-fashioned methods of pushing
their business. We say it, not simply
because we are interested in this line of
expenditures, but as our best evidence
to all whp wish to be enterprising and
to secure a large custom, that there is
nothing now so effective to this end as
judicious advertising. A little adver
tising may be, like a gentle touch of the
whip to poor Dobbin’s horse, “a mercy
thrown away;” but liberal outly is al
most certain to bring in a large return,
and this will last even beyond the cur
rent season. We do not believe that
any one who has valuable service or de
sirable property to offer can fail of reap
ing a rich harvest by continuous adver
tising on a large scale.
The Western Catholic is responsible
for the statement that “ Shoo Fly ” has
been parodied for Sunday School, after
this fashion :
Sa-tan, don’t bodder me ;
Sa-tan, don’t bodder me ;
Sa-tan, don’t bodder me ;
For I belong to company G.
I hear, I hear, I hear,*
I hear de organ’s tone ;
I feel, I feel, I seal
Religion in my bone.
Sa-tan, don’t bodder mo! &c.
—
An indigent hoy applied for alms at
the house of an avaricious rector, and
received a dry, mouldy crust. The rec
tor inquired of the hoy if he could say
the Lord’s Prayer, and was answered in
the negative. “ Then,” said the rector,
“ I will teach you that.” “ Our Fath
er !” “Our Father!" said the boy;
“is he my Father as well as yours ?”
“ Yes, certainly.” “ Then,” replied the
boy, “how could you give jour poor
brother this mouldy crust of bread?”
An Indianapolis paper has this sin
gular announcement: “ M. G. Lee. of
the Commercial, hag gone South for the
benefiit of his wife’s health."
Many men are “generous to & fault”
when they are not generous to anything
else.
Man’s greatest enemy is the wine
glass—woman’s the )ooking-glas»\
In fashionable circles a sociable is
now called Daughteracultural.
Why is the letter B like fire ? Be
cause it makes oil boil.
Applicable to an angel—What on
arth are you doing ? .
NO. 30.
Three lots and a fraction of a lot of land
lying in the 24th district, 2d section of
Gordon county, on waters of Little Snlaquoy,
containing 564 acres ; about 08 acres of good
bottom land, cleared and in cultivation ; and
about 240 acres of fresh cleared, good up
land, a large proportion set iu clover and
the grasses > a superior stock farm; conven
ient to easy accessible mountain ranges;
comfortable buildings; several springs of
good freestone water. A rare chance for a
good bargain. Call soon.
Two lots of good farming land in the
loth district, 3d section of Gordon coun
ty, containing 320 acres. About 90 acres
fresh cleared and very convenient to Adairs
villc, on the W. & A. it. R., andPluneVifle on
the S. R. &D.R. R. On - the place are two
good small farm buildings; three good wells;
stock water convenient; youug apple and
peach orchards. These lots may be bought
for reasonable amount, with easy terfhs by
early application to
PHILLIP'S &> RANKIN*
Real Estate Agents,
Calhoun, Ga:
MM I MU ItMTI
of Philadelphia.
Medical Department !
THIS College holds three sessions eeeh
year. The first session cornmsaossOstsbsr
3d, and continues until the end es December;
the second session commences January 14,
1872. and continues until the tad es Marsh :
the third eessieu commences jdprtl Ist, a*4
continues until the end Os June.
It has an able corpse es twelve PrefeeMr%
and every Department es Medicine and Sur
gery is thoroughly taught.
Every facility in the Way of Illustrations,
morbid specimens, herbarium, ohemienland
philosophical apparatus, microscopes, instru
ments of the latest invention for physical
examination and diagnosis will be provided.
Splendid Hospital and Clinical Instruction
are afforded ; free tickets to all our city hos
pitals are provided; disseoting material
abundant at a nominal cost.
Perpetual scholarships are sold for S6O,
which pays for all tho Professors’ Tickets
until graduation. Matriculation Fee $6 ;
Demonstrator’s Ticket. $5 ; Diploma Fee,
S3O. Ftfr circular and additional particulars,
address
Prof. JOHN BUCHANAN, M. D. Dean,
514 Pine Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
augl7’7l-ly
jmMr MANHOOD:
4srz3stic7 How Lost, How Restored.
Just published, anew edition by I>R. CUL
VER WELL’S CELEBRATED ESSAY on the
radial cure of certain weaknesses, the ef
fects of Errors and Abuses i* early life.
The celobrated author, in this admirable
assay, el early demonstraets from a thirty
years’ successful practise, that the alamiag
consequences es such errors and abuses way
be radically cured without the dangerous
use of internal medicine or the application
of the knife ; pointing out a mod? of cure at
once pimple, certain, ane effe*iu*l, by means
of which every sufferer, no matter what his
condition may be, may sure himself cheaply,
privately and radically.
Lecture should be in the hands
of every youth and every man in the land.
Sent, under seal, in plain envelope, to any
address, postpaid on receipt of six cents, or
two post stamp..
Also, Dr. Cuiverwell’s “ Marriage Guide,”
price 25 cents.
Address the Publish ere,
GKAS. J. C. KLINE ic CO.,
127 Bowery, New York. P. O. Box 4,688.
j«n2s-ly
OlierolaLO©
MANUFACTURING COMPANY.
DALTON, OA.
Manufacture* all Kinds of
fuh.kitur.es,
Os the best mater : sl this country affords,
and very superior in style and workmanahip
which they offer to the public and the gem
a) trade, as low as can be afforded.
Chairs & Bedsteads a Specialitf.
Blinds, Doors. Sash and Job Werk, to or
der, on short notice.
Dr. D. G. Hunt is eur Agent at Calhoun,
Ga., and keeps a good supply of Faraitnro
on hand. J- W. WALKKR, Sup t.
D. Palme*. Secretary. [aug3l’7l-tf.
FLORIDA FRUIT FARM
0 FOR SALE.
TkjKAR Lite Oak, Sewanee County, Florida,
JA 40 acres. 2,000 Fruit Trees, valuable
Nursery of 2,500 Orange and oth*r Trees,
House of seven rooms, Stable and other
buildings. For further particulars address
E. F. HENDERSON, &
fcbS-tf Live Oak, Fla.
RATES OF ADVERTISING.
J 1 Mo - j q Mos. I 1 Jtt*.
Two $4.00 $7.00 I $12.00 I $120.00
Knur “ 6.00 10.00 | 18.00 j 35.00
\ column 9.00 16.00 1 25.00 f 40.06
i “ 15.00 25.00 40.00 66.00
L “ 25 00 l 0 ! 00 I GS °O I 115.00
CtsT For each square of ten lines er leas,
for the first insertion, sl, and for each sub
sequent insertion, fifty cent*
Ten lines of »oK4 bretief, or ita
equivalent in apace, make a square.
Terms cash before or on demand af
ter the first rn.»ertion.
Advertisements under the head of ‘•Busincs
Notices,' 2(1 cants a Tine fier first insertiat.
and 10 cents for each subsequent instruas.
MISCELLANEOUS.
LAND FOR SALE!
Tye HAVE SOW ON ffASff ANB FOR
* v Sale on reasonable terms the follow ing
Heal Estate :
Lots 164 and 201, in tht 6th District and
3d seCtifm of Bartow coUnty. tt'&t the Gor
don county line, on Spring place road. A
rare chance fora good bargain.
Lot No. 165. and one half oflot X 0.161, in
the 24tli Diatrict and 3d section Gordon Cos.,
abemt 36 #f good creek bortotai, about
00 acres «eared, well wittered, *gbod double
log houses, and eut-buiblings, convenient to
school and churches; good orchards on tha
place.
Nearly 1000 neves of good hind, lving
principally if? fife i&| Hl-frict.- 2d sec
tion of Gordon county. 400 acres frf first
daw bottom land in a fine state of cultiva
tion and about 150 acres of cleared upland.
On the jlace are good buildings, two good
wells, one spring, apple and peach orchards
and an abundance of slock water. In one
ot the best settlcmouts ofCliorokco Georgia,
and being a farm second to none anywhere
in all that appertains to a farm in thorough
outfit ; superior inducements are offered to
buyers. The farm is indeed a most valuable
one, really worth $25,000 or $30,000.
Lot of land No. 222, in the 6th district
Gordon county, containing 163 acres, 50
acres of which is good bottom, cleared and
in cultivation, and about 80 aercs of cleared
upland. This lot of land lies on waters of
l’:ne Log, witiiin one mile of a fine tiouring
mill convenient to good markets A good
chance for a good bargain
Two one acre lots in the town oT Calhoun.
On one of the lots is a good residence
with five rooms and an elegant kitchen. The
entire lot is enclosed by a hew and splendid
paling fence The other Is enclosed and has
been si tin gr*ss. This property by early
application can he nought for SEVEN HUN
DRED DOLLARS.