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CALHOUN WEEKLY TIMES.
D §k FREEMAN, - - Publisher.
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at the expiration of the time paid for,
unless previously renewed, the subscriber’s
name will be stricken from our books.
Communications on matters of pub
lic interest solicited.
sdmtuU.
westemi & Atlantic railroad.
PAY PASSENGER TRAIN—OUTWARD.
Pmyc Atlanta 8:40 a. m
At rive Calhoun 12:40 p. M.
“ Chattanooga... 360 p.m.
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN —INWARty.
LeaYC Chattanooga s:io p. M.
Arrive Calhoun.... 8:31 a. m,
<< Atlanta 12:35 p. m.
NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN—OUTWARD.
Leave Atlanta !... 1LL.5:65 p. m.
Arrive Calhoun 9:41 p. m.
•< Chattanooga 12:30 a. m.
PASSENGER TRAIN INWAKO.
Leave Chattanooga 4:00 p. m.
Arrive Calhoun 6:38 p. m.
Atlanta 10:15 p. m.
ACCOMMODATION TRAIN —OUTWARD.
Leave Atlanta 3:50 p. M.
Arrive Calhoun 10:28 p. m.
' (i Dalton 11:55 r. M.
ACCOMMODATION TRAIN—INWARD.
Leave Dalton 1:00 a. m.
Arrive Calhoun 3:00 A. M.
•* Atlanta 10:08 a. m
i’vofcssionat & Easiness Cards.
TT* J. KIKEIt & SON,
attorneys at law,
Will practice in all the Courts of the Cher
okee Circuit; Supreme Court ol Georgia, and
the United States District Court at Atlanta,
|>a. Office : Sutheast corner of the Court
House, Calhoun, Ga.
pAIN & MILNER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
CALHOUN, GA
Will practice in all the Superior Courts of
of Cherokee Georgia, the Supreme Court of
the State and the United States District and
Circuit Uourts, at Atlanta.
RANKIN & NEEL,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
CALHOUN, GA.
Office : Court House Street.
J D. TINSLEY,
Watch-Maker & Jeweler,
CAL 6 UN, GA:
All styles of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry
rcatly repaired and warranted.
j7utL WALDO THORNTON, D. D. ST.
DENTIST.
Office over Geo. W. V/ells & Co.’s Agricul
tural Warehouse.
gry M. BOSWELL,
* * ’ PHOTOGRAPHER,
Calhoun, Ga.
1 respectfully cull the attention of those
desiring good pictures to the fact that they
cad be supplied at my gallery.
TyjHSS. o.’ A. IIUDGINS,
Milliner & Mantua-Maker,
Court House St., Calhoun iGa.
Patterns of the latest styles and fashion
f<sr ladies just received. Gutting and
Making done to order.
J 11. ARTHUR,
DEALER IN
GENERAL MERCHANDISE,
RAILROAD STREET,
Calhoun , Ga.
MUSIC! MUSIC!
A large variety of new and select music
direct from Philadelphia kept constantly on
hand and for sale by Mrs. J. E. Parrott.—
She also gives notice that she will instruct
in music at her residence. Terms, per month,’
$1.00; use of instrument, 50 ennts. Recep
tion days, Tuesdays and Thursdays.
ZT. GRAY,
• CALHOUN, GA„
Is prepared, to' furnish the public with
Etfgglesand Wagons, bran new and Avar runt
ed. Repairing of all kinds done at short
notice. Would call attention to the cele
rated “Fish Brothers’ Wagon which he fuv
nidies. Call and examine before buying
elsewhere.
NEW GROCERY STORE.
T. "W". Marshall,
RAILROAD STAND OF
FRESH GOODS, SOUGHT FOR
CASH, AND WILL BE SOLD
FOR CASH AT THE VERY
LOWEST PRICES.
Would respectfully ask his numerous
friends in (JoTdfifi county to come in and
see him before making purchases elsewhere.
Fall and Winter Goods !
MRS. ANNIE HALL
is now in stone tier fall anil winter stock
iashionable Millinery and Straw Goods,
consisting in part of Bonnets, Ladies and
•hildren’e' Efats, White Goods, Ladies’ Un
rvvear, Ribbons, Laces, Flowers, &c , with
l 1! endless variety of
trimmings of all kinds.
Cutting, fitting and making dresses a spe
cialty. All work done with care, neatness
and dispatch. Prices reasonable. Give me
Ca ll. MRS. ANNIE HALL.
Boas cfc Barrett
Are Agents for
metalic burial cases.
Al>,o WOODEN CASES with Rosewood
finish. Will keep on hand a full range of
sizes.
VOL. Y.
The Last Serenade.
He sat upon an oaken stump,
His fiddle in his hand,
And gazed upon the window-sill,
To see her small white hand,
That rested there so lovingly—
It made his great heart stand. *
He murmured, “My Mary, love?
Art thinking, sweet, of me?
Would I had wings, now, as a bird—
Like a little bird s< free—
I’d fly up to thy window, love.
And sing a song for thee.”
lie placed his fiddle neath his chin,
And straightened up to play;
And “ Mo.lie Darling ” was the song—
But nqt upon that day
Was heard along those bottom lands
That sweet affecting lay.
lie heard the window slowly raise ;
His bow he gently prest,,
And then looked up to catch her smile,
And watch her heaving breast,
When—splash ! —sv<*nt water on his face,
And on his Sunday vest.
She gazed awhile, and heard a sigh,
Then slowly went below,
And smote hei breast, and faltered out,
“Alas! I didn’t know!”
All that was left of that serenade
Was a lonesome fiddle-bow.
He never came to sing, again
> To please ’Squire AsOton’s daughter;
lie staid at home and fiddle not
Until he had forgot her ;
And thus the romance o' his life
Was ended by cold Avater !
A MINER’N vision.
BY DICK FELTON.
“We camped for the night in Ore
gon Gulch,” said Jim Fosdick, the mi
ner. “Pour in number, and a mighty
rough set we were too. You see, we’d
struck a streak of b. and luck in the begin
ning of the the year and it followed us
like grim Death, night and day. Once
we made our pile and was taking it
homo to the States; but I hope *1 may
never strike another pocket if the road
agents didn’t meet us above Marysville,
and clean out the entire party. Then
we went to quartz mining, but bless
your hearts we wasn’t the kind of chaps
fur that work ; and we got mules when
the wet season came on, and started out
on a ‘prospect.’
There was Digger Jack, Slim Townly,
Ned Daggett, and ‘yours truly;’ and if
you will believe- me, boys, there wasn't
enough good clothes in the whole party
to dress up f. Piute Indian for a mas
querade. But miners are a happy-go
lucky lot of fellows anyhow, and all of
us were in the best of sperrits ’cept Dig
ger Jack ; and who ever knowed him to
do anything but grumble at his luck ?
He sot there and smoked his pipe and
told as he’d had a dream, and we
were going to be rubbed out, smooth
and comfortable, before sun-up Now
as a gin’ral rule I aint easy skeered, but
it made me mad to have him set there
and tell us, in that smooth, easy way of
his, that we was all bound to go under.
‘You don’t set up for a prophet. I
hope,’said Ned Daggett. ‘Ef you do, I
calculate you are the raggedest old seed of
a prophet on this side of the Rockies.’
‘All right, boys,’ said Digger Jack.
‘Keep blowing—do. Tt kinder keeps
yer eourridge up, and you won’t feel so
bad when you know you’ve got to go.
I’ll keep camp to-night, and you chaps
can lay down and git a little rest. It’ll
be a massy if it only takes you asleep’
‘cause you’ve got to go anyhow.’
Now without being given to narvous
ness, I may say that this sort of talk un
hinged me, somehow. I couldn’t help
it, for it was just awful to set there and
see Digger Jack with that solemn old
face drawed down, telling that death
had drawed his bee on us sure, and we
couldn't get away. I don’t know what
possesed the old thief to talk in that
way, because he didn t believe in it him
self; but he got us narvous, and when
we wrapped our blankets around us and
lay down, not one of us was sartin he’d
ever get up agin. And there sot Dig
ger Jack, with the same stony look up
on his grizzled old face, calmly waiting,
or pretending to wait, for death.
I tried to sleep, but, boys, it were no
sort of use. Every time I turned over
in rny blanket I saw old Jack, smoking
as if he meant to have a good time ot
it while life lasted, and looking as wild
as an owl. It just driv me crazy, and
the rest of the boys were just as bad.
and not one among us but would have
given a hundred ounces— if he’d had
them—to get back among the quartz
rock agin, even if we didn’t have pay
rock.
‘See here,’ said Ned Dagget, sitting
up on the stone floor of the gulch, I or
ter git up and lick that old thief.’ He
certainly desuwes it.
‘You’d, better thlrifc of your sins,’ said
Jack. ‘You won’t have tuch time.’
Ned lay down again with a groan,
and kept quiet. Two hours passed, and
still Jack sat and smoked his pipe, and
we tossed about in our blankets, and
wished that the father of all evil had
Jack in his clutches.
We dropped asleep one by one, and
forgot our troubles. How long we slept
I don’t know, but all of a sudden I heard
a yell from Jack, and every man grab
bed his rifle and leaped up, for we be
lieved the Indians were upon us, sure;
but it wasn’t that.
Old Jack stood pointing up the moun
tain, with a shaking finger, and we all
looked, and saw such a sight as I have
never seen before nor since.
From the place where we stood the
mountain sloped up an angle of fit ty de
grees, and coming down the mountain
was what looked like a great cloud, with
stones, trees and bushes leaping about
in the centre. A loud continuous roar
sounded in our ears, and we heard ex*
plosiors like the crash of artillery in a
geat battle. You and I know what a
noise means, Tom Bowles, for we ve
seed a battle or two, I reckon. The
CALIIGUN, GA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 1874.
whole side of the mountain seemed to
have fetched loose at once, and was com
ing down on us.
We didn’t carry long in that vicinity,
for when I see a ‘land slide’ coming. I
make it a point to get out of the way
lively.
The other side of the gulch is almost
perpondichr.bat got up it in places
where I’d been apt to look twice before
I tried it if foity thousand tons o.’rock,
earth and timber had not been coming
down upon me.
It would have done your heart good to
see us go up the side of that gulch. We
didn’t stop to look for our traps, and we
didn’t want our mules just then. Up
we went, and before we had got 50 feet,
the ruin came down into the gulch,
groat rocks leaping about like pebbles,
and crushing every thing in their wav.
It was the work of five minutes and the
eulch was filled to the top. and we stoe and
barely ten feet above the top of the
great heap.
While I don’t believe in visions, yet
I am willing to allow that if Digger Jack
hadn’t been obstinit and insisted on
keeping awake that night, his vision
would have come true ; for where oir
mules lay, under forty feet of earth and
stone, we should be lying now. As it
was, we struck for ‘Angels,’ and came
in ragged and forlorn, and went to
work. It was some time before any of
us would hear anything about prospect
ing
Christmas Presents.
Vefy soon all good Christians—and
some pagans —will be casting about to
see what they may select as Christmas
presents. J ust what may be the best
thing for to suit the case is what “ ev
erybody” wants to know. One will buy
a box of cigars, of expensive brand, to
present to the man who smokes. An
other will buy a costly snuff-box, filled
with powdered tobacco. Another
will put $3, $5, or even $lO into a
richly carved tobacco pipe ; and each of
the givers will congratulate himself that
he is doing a handsome thing. But
how much better would be a basket of
fruit or a barrel of apples, in which all
the family could participate ! Another
will buy a basket of champagne or a
case of other costly wine, and send it to
his friend as a Christly—Christmas—
present! Another will content himself
with a demijohn of old bourbon; anoth
er with a keg of lager beer. Liquor
dealers count on large orders for the
holidays. But are these substances the
best for holiday presents ? Will God
bless them to giver or to receiver? If
not, then then they are inappropriate.
If they do harm rather than good, then
curses rather than blessings will come to
them.
Others, who mean well, but are not
developed above the animal appetite,
will go largely into confectionery. They
Will buy great quantities of highly-col
ored and richly-scented candies, w>*h
more or less white c'ay, plaster of Paris,
and real deadly poison in them, to be
given to good little Sunday-school chik
dren-I It will cause sickness in many
families, and death in some. But the
mattei of life and death is in the
hands of Providence, “you know,” and
we must not be held responsible. Be
sides, “children will have candies, and
we'ean not help it.” And is this the
way you propose to treat the fubj’ect ?
Will you contribute toward a fund to
buy poisons to feed little children, ana
then put the responsibility on Provi
dence or on the wicked one ? That is
“too thin.” What is reason giveu to
man for except to be used ?
A Ory Time.
An honest old Kentucky farmer from
the country gives his recollections of the
late hot spell as follows:
“It was so dry we couldn’t spare wa
ter to put in our whisky. The grass
was so dry that every time the wind
blew it flew around like so much ashes
There wasn’t a tear shed at a funeral
for a month The sun dried up all the
cattle, and burned off all the hair till
they looked like Mexican dogs, and the
sheep all like poodl) puppies,they shrank
up so. We had to soak all our hogs to
make ’em hold swill, and if cattle were
killed in the morning they were
dried beef at dark. The woods dried up
so that the farmers chopped seasoned
timber all through August, and there
ain’t a match through all the country —
in fact no wedding since the widow
Glenn married old Baker, three months
ago. What few grasshoppers are left
are all skin and legs, and I didn’t hear
a teakettle sing for six weeks.”
The Bogus Bonds. —Some time ago,
we learn from an exchange, some
parties representing foreign holders of
fraudulent bonds addressed Governor
Smith a letter suggesting to him some
sort of plan of compromise. The Gover
nor, says the same authority, declined
to take cognizance of the plan given
Of course this was precisely what every
body expect)d Gonertior Smith to do,his
record on the subject of the fraudulent
bonds being too clear co be inisunder
stood It seems, however, that these
gentry have not abandoned all hope of
effecting some sort of compromise. We
understand that the committee will
probably visit Georgia during the ses
sion of the Legislature, and endeavor to
convince the members that the fraudu
le n t bonds ought to be paid. It is said
that they will not only offer “ liberal
terms, but that thej will also sugar-coat
the tax pill by agreeing to do something
or other for Georgia—invest in rail
roads or something of the kind—if the
tax-payers will agree to'pay them sever
al millions of dollars that the ISate does
not owe. —Atlanta News.
Bad Penmanship.
The folloAviug squib illustrates the
danger of bad penmanship, and we hope
edituis and contributors will take warn
ing :
M. Quad, in the Detroit Free Press,
charges an awful crime oh Bloss of the
Enquire : The other day a compositor
ol tjiis office got fold of a page of the
ol G. M. Bloss, of the Cin
cinnati Enquirer. It isn’t writing at all,
butßloss seems to kick the ink bottle at
a sheet of paper, and then sends the pa
per dowu to the compositor as an editor
rial. This part of a page Avas used as a
foundation of a plot to deliberately de
stroy a life. A line or two was Avritten
above it. Bloss’ page was marked “sol
id and it was handed to a ‘ jour ” who
hud just struck the office. He claimed
to be lightuing on the set ” and on
reading manuscript, and he set up the
introductory like a whirlwind. When
he came duwn to Bloss he grabbed a
cap “A, held it a second and dove
into the “Y ” box, then threw that
back and picked out a dollar mark. No
sentence can commence with a dollar
mark, and the typo paused, spit on his
hands, and rested one foot on the cross
bar ol his rack. After a moment he
grabbed a “ ffi,” but slowly replaced if
and toyed with a italic “ Z.” Then he
spit on his hands some more, corrugated
his, brow, and hauled the manuscript
under his eyes. It was no go. He
held the page farther off, close to his
nose, slanting to the right, an I square
before the window, but he couldn’t start
it, and he knew in his soul that no oth'*
er living compositor outside of the En
quirer office could do it. As afternoon
faded into twilight he laid the page
aside.set twoor three lines outof bis head,
and then slipped inio his coat, said he’d
go to the depot to see a friend, an 1 he
was gone. In his stick he had set up
the words, “ Tell my mother that I will
meet her on the other shore.” He prob
ably will. He was seen last at the foot
of Griswold Street, and heard to ask if
death by drowning wasn’t easier th>n
hanging, and it is probable that his
marble form is how lying at the bottom
of the cold green river, Avhile Bloss is a
murderer.
Claims of Labor.
The workingman, as soon as he emer
ges from a condition of abject iguorancc
demunds an equitable share of the prof
its of his industry. lie feels that in
reluru for faithful and persistent labor,
and the practice of strict eccoffomy and
prudence, he is entitled to something
mure than a bare subsistence. lie
should have the satisfaction and reward
of accumulation The resu't of his toils,
after a reasonable length of time, should
be suca as to place him in a position of
comfort and independence. He does
not ehildlessly aslt to be made rich by
act oi legislature, but merely to be al
lowed to hold what is properly his own.
The farmer wants to know, when he
brings his wheat and corn, his vegeta
bles and fruits, into market, why he can
get barely the cost of production, often
less than the cost, while on every thing
he buys —his tea and sugar and cloth,
his tools and implements—he has to pay
a profit of from thirty to one huudred
per cent. The working men and wo
men are acquiring the disagreable hab
it of asking why the merchant, the
banker, the speculator, who add not a
dollar to the available wealth of the com
munity, should grow rich, while the ma
jority of those whose iaithful toil the
world is it debted for all the wealth
there is, are put to their wit’s end to
get the barest subsistence. In a word,
why should the creators of wealth get
the smallest share of it ? This is a sim
ple question, but it goes to the bottom
of our social organization and touches
the fundamental injustice. it is fairly
la incited upon the current of public
thought, and nothing can prevent its
beiug carried to its logical conclusions.
It involves a radical investigation of our
entire system of production and ex
change, of banking and currency, of
land tenures aud interest; and it points
to the substitution of some system of
equitable co operation in place of the
present absurd and ruiuuus principle
of commerce and profits.—Phrenologi
cal Journal.
Won’t Do It.
Don’ r expect a man to practice al! he
preaches. Eminent physicians will not
swallow their own nostrums.
Don’t imagine that you are better
than your fellows. There are no reserv
ed seats in Heaven.
Don’t let your wealth inflate you
Rich men s metimes die of small-pox.
Don’t spend your days in vain regrets.
The deepest wound will leave but the
faintest scar, if from this hour you do
vour life well.
Don't expect your pastor to be per
fect. Charcoal will mar the beauty of
tlie lily.
Don’t eat fish for brain food. A hen
never scratches for chickens before they
are hatched.
Don’t make a great noise in the world.
A train i* not moved by the sound ot
the whistle.
Don’t spend too much time in adorn
ing your person. A wax figure can’t
repeat the multiplication table.
Don’t dream that your child was born
to adorn a profession. You can’t make a
fence post out of a shoe peg.
Don’t expect an editor to be very de
votional on Sundu.. Every Saturday
night there’s the “ Devil to pay ” at the
office.
Don’t bother your brain about the
“ acute angles ” of a billiard table. Bet
ter take take vour cue from an indus
trious mechanic.
Don’t fill your head with dime novels.
Old paper is wu-th tw" cents po*
pound:
Tronbles of a Somnambulist.
Mortimer J. Loomis, says Max Ade-
Icr, is now one of the most violent of the
denunciators of railway
Since his last adventure on the bars, h ;
hates a railway worse than an Arapahoe
Indian hates a bald-headed Qua
ker. Loomis has fits of somnambulism
| occasionally and at such times he ha 9 an
uncoutrolable tendency to wander into
dangerous places. More than once he
has been surprised upon waking, to find
himself roosting on the comb of the roof,
or hanging headforemost down the well,
with one Teg around the bucket, han
dle. Ite went to Pitt.Jburgh, a few days
ago, and when the sleeping
car the thought struck him that he might
get to prowling about during the night
Avhile asleep, and walk off the platform
into the better world. So he went to
the brakeman and gave him a dollar,
with strict instructions that if he Saw
him walking around the car in his steep
to seize him and force him back at all
hazards. Then Loomis turned in. About
2 o’clock Loomis awoke, and as the air
in the car seemed stifling, he determin
ed to go rut on the platform for a fresh
breath or two. Just as he got to the
door, that vigilant brakeman saw him,
grabbed him floored him and held him
down When Loomis recovered his
Ireath he indignantly exclaimed, “You
immortal ass ! What d’ you mean ?
Lem me get up, I tell you; I’m as wide
awake as you are.” But the myrmidon
of a grasping corporation put another
knee on Loomis’ breast and insisted
that Loomis was asleep and then ca.led
another brakeman and ateer a terrific
struggle, during Avhich L r omis received
bumps and blows enough to wake an
Egyptian mummy that had been dead
for 6,000 years, the railroad men jam
med him into a berth, put a trunk and
eight earret bags on him, ann then set
on him to hold him down until morn
ing The first thing Mr Loomis asked
for when he arrived in Pittsburgh was
a respectable hospital, where they cured
the temporary insane. He thinks his
reason was partially dethroned by his
effort to comprehe 1 and how the brakeman
could have the face to ask him for an
other dollar because of the trouble Mr.
Loomis gave him during the night.
By And Bye.
There is music enough in these three
words for the burden of a song. There
is hope wrapped up in them and an ar
ticulate beat of a human heart.
By-and bye. We heard it as long ago
as avc can remember, when we made
brief but perilous journeys from chair to
tables, aud from tables to chairs again.
We heard it the other day, when two
parted that had been ‘loving in
their lives,’ one to California and the
other to her lonely home.
Every body says it, some time or oth
er. The boy whispers it to himself
when he dreams ot exchanging the stub
bed little shoes for boots like a man.
The man murmurs it when in life’s mid
dle watch he sees his plans half finished,
and his'hopes yet in bud, waving in cold,
late spring. The old man says it when
he thinks of putting off the mortal for
immortal, to day for to-morrow. The
weary watcher for the morning, whiles
away the.dark hours with “by-andbye
—by-andbyc.”
Sometimes it sounds like a song ; some
times there is a sigh or a sob in it.
What wouldn’t the world give to find it
in the almanac —set down sometime, no
matter if in the dead of December —to
know it Avould surely come. But, fairy
like as it is, flitting like a star beam over
the dewy shadows of the years, nobody
can spare it—and when we look back
on the many times these words have be*
guiled us, the memory of that silver
and bye, is like the sunrise on Ossian,
‘ pleasant, but mournful to the soul.”
()ul* Social Life.
Some peeple never make acquaintan
ces, but shut themselves up from their
kind like an oyster in his shell; while
others —and by far the happiest —are
never at a loss for a cheerful companion
ship It is not hard to make acquaintian
ces if we set abuut it the right way ;
but it is useless to hang back and wait for
every door to be opeued ; }\e. must pu h
them ourselves. Said a lady to us the
other day, “ I never make any acquain
tances in traveling, I wish I could. ’
Said another “ I get acquainted with
everybody. 1 talk to tne woman who
sweeps the ferry bo ts, and to any de
cent person who happens to sit by me
tii the cars. 1 find every human heart
is human,’ and then I can learn some
thing I didn't know b fore from every
new acquaintance, or communicate in
form ati n that may be valuable to
them. We all are too apt to Stand at 5 d
wait for advances from others; to in*
du’tre a captious disposition, and criti*
cise where we should con mend. The
cultivation of a genial, charitable, be
nevolent spirit will not injure any of
us, and will benefit the community in
wh.ch we live, and add constantly to
the number of our friends.
A bachelor thus impeaches woman :
I impeach her in the name of the great
whale of the ocean, whose bones are
torn asunder to enable her to keep
straight. I impeach her in the name of
the peacock, whose strut without his
permission she has stealthily and with
out. honor assumed. I impeach her in
the name of the horse, whose tail she
has perverted from its use to the mak
ing of wavy tresses to decorate the back
of the head and neck. I impeach her
in the name of the kangaroo, whose
beautiful figure she, in taking upon her
the Grecian bend, has brought into ill
favor and disrepute.
Figurative speech —A mathemati
cian’s.
Proverbs.
Amos Atkins was very fond of prov
erbs. lie read proverbs, wrote proverbs
and spoke proverbs ; and, meet him
where you would, he had always a prov
erb upon his lips. When he once be
gan to speak there was hardly any stop
ping him.
W hen I first met Amos I wan on uiy
way to my uncle's. A long way it was ;
but I told him 1 hoped to bo there be
fore night.
“ Ay, ay,” said he. “ Hope is a good
breakfast, but a bad supper. Put your
best foot foie most, boy, or else you will
not be there. It is a good thing to
hope ; but he who does nothing but
hope is iu a very hopeless way.
“ Have a care of your temper; for a
passionate boy rides a pony that runs
away with him. Passion has done more
mischief in the world than all the pois
onous plants that grow in it. Therefore,
again 1 say, have a care of your temper.
“ Remember that the fitst s; ark burns
down the house. Quench the first
spark of passson, and all will be well.
No good comes of wrath ; it puts no
money in the pocket and no joy in the
heart. Angei begins with Polly and
ends with repentance.
Look to your feet and your fingers'
boy, and let both be kept in activity ;
lor he who does nothing is in a fair
way to do mischief. An idle lad makes
a ueedy man, and I may add, a misera
ble one, too.
If you put a hot Coal in your pocket
it will burn its way out. Aye, and so
will a bad deed that is hidden make it
self known. A fault concealed is a
fault doubled ; and so you will find it
all through life. Never hide your
faults, but cofess them,and seek,through
God’s help, to overcome them.
“ Now step forward bey ; and as you
walk along, think of the ha;f-dozen
proverbs given you by Amos Atkius.”
True Piety.
I called at Magruder’a the other mor
ning on my way down town, and. as I
knew them well, I entered the side door
without knocking—l was shocked to
find Mr. Magruder prostrate on the
floor, while Mrs. Magruder sat upon his
chest, pulling his hair, bumping his
head on the boards, and scolding him
savagely.
They got up when I came in ; and
poor Magruder,wiping the blood from his
nose, tried to pretend it was only a joke.
Rut Mrs. Magruder interrupted him.
“Joke? Joke? I should think not.
I was giving him a dressing down, lie
wanted to have prayers before break
fast, and I was determined to have them
after; and as he threw the Bible at me
and hit Mary Jane with the hymn
bock, I soused down on him. If I can
not rule this house, I’ll know why.—
Pick up them Scriptures, sir, and have
prayers! You hear me, Magruder! It’s
more trouble regulatin’ the piety of this
house than runnin’ a saw mill. Mary
Jane, give your pa that hymn book !”
A hard story is going the rounds of
the clerymen’s gathering. It is told of
a near sighted Dutchman, whose weak
ness was not helped by the dim light of
the country church where he was casu
ally “filling the pulpit.” After clear
ing his throat he gave out the hymn,
prefacing it with the apology :
The light isli bad, mine eyes ish dim,
I scarce can see to read dish hymn.
The clerk, supposing it was the first
stanza of the hymn, struck up to the
tunc of common metre.
The old fellow, taken somewhat aback
by this torn of affairs,corrected the mis
take by saying :
I didn’t mean to sing dish hymn,
I only meant mine eyes ish dim.
The e'erk, still thinking it a continu
ation of the couplet, finished irj the pre
ceding strain.
The old man at this waxed wroth,
and exclaimed at the top of his voice :
I dink ter duyfel’s in you all
Dat vash nj hymn to sing at all.
Newspaper By-Laws — l. Be brief.
This is the age of telegraphs and ste
nography.
2. Be pointed. Don’t write all
around a subject without hitting it.
3. State facts, don’t stop to moralize.
It’s a drowsy subject. Let the reader
do his own dreaming.
4. Eschew prefaces. Plunge at once
into your subject like a swimmer into
cold water.
5. If you have written a sentence
that you think particularly fine, draw a
pen through it- A pet child is always
the worst in the family.
6. Condense. Make sure that you
really have an idea, and then record it
in the shortest possible terms. We
want thoughts in their quintesccnce.
7. When vour article is completed,
strike out nine-tenths of the adjectives.
A Few Useful Figures. —A quar
ter-inch rod of the best steel will sus
tain 8,000 pounds before breaking; soft
steel, 6,000 pounds ; iron wire, 9 000,
iron, 4.000 ; inferior bay iron, 2,000;
cast iron, 1,000 to 3.000 ; copper wirr,
3,000 ; silver wire, 2,000 ; gold, 2.500;
tin, 3.009 ; cast zinc, IGO ; cast lead 50;
milled lead, 200, Of wood, box a*d
Locust the same size will hold 1,200
pounds; toughe.-t ash, 1,000; elm, 800;
beach, cedar, white oak, pitch pine, GOO;
che-tGUt and maple. GSO; poplar, 400,
Wood which will fear a heavy weigh
for a minute or two will break with two
thirds of the force acting a long time.
A rod of iron is about ten times as
strong as hemp cord. A rope, an inch
in diameter, will bear about two and a
half tons ; but in practice it is not safe
to subject it to a strain of more than
about a ton. Half an inch in diameter
the strength will be one quarter, ns
much ; a quarter of au inch, one six
I teenth as much, and so on.
ADVERTISING R VI ES.
For each square of ten line* or less,
for the first insertion, sl, and for each sub*
sequent insertion, fifty cents.
[ l Mo. f 8 Mos. | 6 Mos 11 year.
Two sl.b{T $12.00 {"120.00
Four “ (J.OO 10.00 18.00 | 36.00
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Ten lines of solid brevier, or its
equivalent in space, make a square.
NO. 21.
AMUSING.
“ My Sunday cven'ng mail,” is what
she calls him in Detroit.
Canadian wives, in addition to being
good cooks, can drive oxen, put up s*.?
pipe, husk corn and split rails.
A follow who was caught throwing
stones at a child said he was merely
rocking a baby.
Formula of divorce used hv n noTo
I justice in Desha county, Ark : “As l
j ned you, so I bust you ’sunder. So
go, you niggers. You go !”
The Christian Itelligenccr is anxious
discover how to abate, “over dress ” irv
girls’ schools. We should suggest giv
ing the little dears more under cloth*
ing.
It is said by a Boston contemporary
that General Puller’s annoying itch for
office has been much allayed by the con
siderate action of voters in “ scratching”
him on election day.
On retiring from business a wise old
man said to his son and successor *--
“ Now, my hoy, remember that common
sense is the best thing yon ean bring to
bear on every affair of life except love!
making.
A couple of fellows who were prottv
thoroughly soaked with bad whisky got
into the gutter. After floundering fir
some time, one of them said : “ Let’s
go to another house ; this hotel leaks.
A packer, whose pew
rent was raised to £25, exclaimed,
“Great Ctcsar ! Here’s a nice stato of
affairs—the Gospel going up and pork,
going down. What’s to become of
us?”
Always acknowledge courtesies in a
kindly spirit. Throw a boquet and a
card of thanks to a serenading party,
if not prepared to invite them in. If
you haven’t a boquet or card at hand,
throw a bootjack or a brick.
“ Mamma, where do the cows get the
milk ?” asked Harry, loking up from
the learning pan of milk which he hail
been intently regarding. “ Where da
you get your tears ?'* was the answer.—
After a thoughtful silence he again
broke out : “ Mamma, do the cows havo
to be spanked V*
No such extensive knowledge of the
Latin language as that universally pos
sessed by all college graduates is needed
to translate the following sentence : Mi
datur du cum nex Mundi nite at ate tu
yore papas tu te tu etabitur pi an sum
homine. Cum prompt at time.
, “ How are you getting on at your
place ?” said a lady to one whom she had
recommended to a situation. “Very
well, thank you,/ answered the girl.—
“I am glad to hear it,” said the lady.
“ Your employer is a nice person, and
you cannot do too much for her.” “ I
don’t mean to ma’am,” was the innocent
reply.
A Lancaster county (Penn.) farmer
writes to his local paper that, as he was
g~ing past his C' rn-crib the other morn
ing, he observed a rat carrying a largo
ear of corn in his mouth and dragging
another behind him.around whiclThistail
was wrapped—and it wasn’t a good day
for hauling corn either.
“ Pa,” said Mrs. Sprilkins, glancing
up from a perusal of last year’s speech-,
es on the credit mobilier, “ what decs
it mean to put your money where it will
do the most good ?” “ Utilize, my dear,
utilize,” replied her loving spouse,
“ that’s what it means.” “ I don’t, nei
ther !” screamed Mrs. S., with tears of
rage; “I Dever told one in my life, you
heartless wretch!” and Mrs. Sprilkins
just dodged in time to let a volume of
congressional debates graze his os fronth
and pass through a front window pane-
A wcll-dresed chap entered a jewelry
store aud asked if he could see those
cups in the witidow, pointing, as he
spoke, to some silver cups lim and with
gold. “These,” said the jeweler, hang
ing him one, “are race-cups.” “ Race
cups —what are race, enps ?” “ Why,”
replied the jeweler, “ they are cups T
had ordered to be made for prizes to the
best racer.” “ Well, if that’s so, sup*
pose you and me race for one,” and,
with a cup in his hand, he started, the
jeweler after him. lie probably won the
cup.
Old Dr. Twichell, of Keene, once
wanted to blister someone in a farm
house, far from home. lie had noth-:
ing with him to do it with. lie asked
the housewife to find him a hammer.—
The article was brought out, put into
the teakettle over the fire, and after the
water steamed and bubbled well, he lift
ed t out and gently touched it to his
patient in a half dozen spots, over the
seat of pain, with very positive effect.
Boilhd hammers were for inauy years,
used in that neighborhood for pleurisy;
and every old lady knew nothing was,
equal to the hammer, and there was a
long di-pute whether it should be a
claw-hammer or oot. The yeas finally
conquered.
These who go round with the contri
bution box in California churches plead
and argue the case as they go along.—
One of the gentlemen recently extended
the box to a rough-looking miner who
slowly shook his head.
Come, William, give something,”
said the deacon.
Can’t do it deak,” said Bill. [
“ Why not? Isn t the cause a gor.i’’
one ?”
“ Yes, good ’nuff; but I ain’t able to
give nothin’.”
“Pooh! pooh! I know bePer. You
must give me a better reason than that.”
“ Well, I owe too much money.”
“ Well, but, William, you owe God a
much larger debt than any one else.”
“ That s tme, but he isn’t pushing'
me like the rest of my customers.”