Calhoun weekly times. (Calhoun, GA.) 1873-1875, December 23, 1874, Image 1

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CALHOUN WEEKLY TIMES; D. B. FREEMAN, * - Publisher. r . t>ar . $2.00 *i*e lear Si* llonths Ton copiea one year..... ;..16 00 Subscriptions payable In' advance, and 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'. Jfc&t&vlit. WESTERN & ATLANTIC RAILROAD. DAY TRAIN —OUTWARD. heave Atlanta.,.. M Airive Calhoun p * “* “ Chattanooga — p * M DAY PASSKNGER TRAIN —INWARD. Leava Chattanooga &HJ r - M - Arrive Calhoun •••••.; A : M ‘ “ Atlanta ....,....\l2:-jo b. m * NfGHT PASSENGER TRAIN—OUTWARD. Leave Atlanta. 5:5*5 p. m. Arrive Calhoun.... ' - 9 GI v • M * Chattanooga. 12:30 a. m. NiaUT PASSENGER TRAIN -^iWARD. Leave Chattanooga 4:00 p. m. .Vrfive Calhoun .....b:3o p. m. •_ Atlanta - 10:15 p. m. ACCOMMODATION TRAIN—OUTWARD. Leave Atlanta p. m. Arrive Calhoun ; 10:28 p * M> u Dalton H:55 p. m. ACCOMMODATION TRAIN INWARD. Leaves Dalton A - M - Arrive Calhoun •’VaSS A ‘ Atlanta ♦10:08 a. m professional & Cants. ZT— 1 Tjs J. KIKEII & SON, • attorneys at law,* Will practice in all the Courts of the Cher' okce Circuit; Supreme Court ot Georgia, and the United States District Court at Atlanta, G.i. Office : Suthpast corner of the Court House, Calhoun, Ga. attorneys at law, CALHOUN, GA , Will practice in all the Superior Courts of of Cherokee Georgia, Court of jjje StateTnd th@ United States District and Circuit Jourts,*ht Atlanta. IVANKIN & NEEL, ATTORNEYS at law, CALHOUN, GA. I| Office :, Court House Street. j D. TINSLEY, Watch-Maker & Jeweler, CALOUff, QA . All Styles of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry ready repaired and warranted. jjiiTiLloAlSSu v. s.. dentist. 1 Office over Geo. W. Wells & Co.’s Agricul i u „1 Warehouse. ♦ *ll7 M. BOSWELL, PHOTOGRAPHER, Calhoun, Ga. 1 ’ c'pcci fully call Abe attention of those ilcmi ing good pictures to the tact that they cjd be supplied at my gallery. ’yjLSS C. aTIiUDGINsT" Milliner & Mantua-Maker, Court House St., CallioitnOci Patterns b’f the latest styles and fashion for ladies just received. Gutting and Miking 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 lund and for sale by Mrs. J. L. Farrott• She also gives notice that she will in.stiuct 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 liturgies and Wagons, bran new and warrant 'd. Repairing of all kinds done at shott -) o ,ice. Would cxll attention to the cele „cd “Fish Brothers’ Wagon which he fui in hes. Call and examine before buying (Jsewhere. NEW GROCERY STORE. j, W.Marsliall, tip FRESH GOODS, BOUGHT FOR CASH, AND WILL BE SOLD FOR CASH ATTHE VERY LOWEST PRICES. Would respectfully ask his numerous Mends in Gordon county to come in and sec him before making purchases elsewhere. Fall and W inter Goods ! MRS. ANNIE HALL H is now in store her fall and winter stock of iashionable Millinery and Straw Goods, consisting in part of Bonnets, Ladies and Children’s Hats, White Goods, Ladies Un derwear, Ribbons, Laces, Flowers, &C , with an endless variety of trimmings of all kinds. Cutting, fitting and making dresses a spe cialty. AH work done tfitbf care, neatness and dispatch. Prices reasonable. Give me call. MRS. ANNIE HALL. Boaz db Barrett Are Agents Kf FISK’S PATE NT metalic burial cases. Also WOODEN CASES with Bcscuood utsh, Willkeep on band a fnll range of "sizes; CaHjonti iDcchlij (Times. YOU. Y. THE COVER ED BRIDGE. BY Til* LATE DAJ'ID BARKER. Tell the fainting soul and tlie weary form- There’s a world of the purest bliss That s linked, as the soul and form is linked, By a covered bridge with tins. Yet, to reach that realm on the other shore Wemustpasß through a transient gloom, And must walk unseen, unhelped and Through that coverd bridge. • But we will pass over on equal terms, For the universal toll Is the outer garb which the hand of God Has-flung aronud the soul. Though the Cye is dim and the bridge is dark, And the river it spans is wide, Yet faith points through to a shining mount That looms on the other side. * % To enable our feet in the next day’s march To climb up that golden ridge We must all lie down for one night’s rest Inside of the covered bridge. THE HACHOJLOR’S .SURPRISE* A chill December evening, with the rain and snow forming a 'disagreeable sort of conglomeration on the sidewalks, thfe gaslights at corner flickering sullenly .through * the mist, and the wind taking one viciously as one came round the corner. Not a pleasant even ing to assume possession of anew home but necessity knows no law,, and Mr. Barkdale put up his night key into the red brick tioupe in the middle of the block, fciriberety hoping that his new landlady woultj. have common sense to light a fire in the grate. * “It is you, sir?” Mr. Hinman quoth beamingly. “There’s a good fire,’ and it’s all right.” “All right, eh ?” said the bachelor, feeling the blue tip of his frosted nose to see whether it had escaj ed being fro zen off entirely. ‘.‘Well, lam glad to hear that. Have the trunks come ?” “Oh, yes, sir, and the other things.” “What other things it” demanded Mir. Barkdale. “But Mrs. Hinman pursed up her lips. “I was’nt to tell, sir please.” “Rather an ecceutrie old lady,” thought Mr. Barkdale, pushing past her to the third story front room which he had solemnly engaged the day before. It had been rather a dark and dingy little de.n by tfte light of the moon ; but now softened by/he coral shine of a well filled grate, it wore quite another and a brighter aspect. ‘’Velvet paper on the walls, gilt pan eling; red carpel, and it Sleepy Hollow chair,” thought Mr. Barkdale glancing around. “Not so comfortable after all. When I get my things unpacked,it will seem quitew homelike.” He sat down his valise in the corner, deliberately opened it, took out a pair of slippers, and invested his tired feet therein. Next he laid off his overcoat. “Now for a cigar,” thought he. But the layered weed was yet in his hand, when there was a bustle, and a flutter, and a whisper, and a merry noise on the landing outside, and the door flow open as if by magic, to admit half-a-dozen blooming, laughing girls. Mr. Barkdale dropped his cigar and retreated a step or two. “Don’t be alarmed, ” said the tallest and prettiest of the bevy ; “It’s only a surprise.” “A verj’ agreeable one I’am sure,” said our friend, recovering bis presence of mind. “There’s no mistake, I hope,” said a yellow tressed blonde. “Your name is not Greenfield ?” “No mistake at all, I assure , you,” sai 1 Mr. Barkdale. “Of course it is not Greenfield. Sit down ladies.” And he pushed forward the Sleepy Hollow chair, a camp stool and two rheumatic reception chairs, wh'ch were all the accommodations presented by his apartment. But instead of accepting his coutersv, the girls fluttered out again, giggling, and in a second, before, he could realize this strange condition of affairs, they were back again, bearing benches, and a table cloth, dishes, bouquets, a pyra> mid of maccaronies, piled up plates of sandwiches, of frosted cake, anda mys terious something like unto an ice cream freezer; * The golden tressed girl clapped her hands. * “You need’nt think we are. doing all this for you, sir,” she said. “Oh,” said Mr' Barkdale, bashfully, “I—I—? had’nt any such impression.” “It’s all a surprise designed-*ior Kate’s cousin.” “Is it ?” said Mr. Barkdale, more in the dark than ever. “And how do yiti suppose we found it all out?” demanded the tall girl with the black eyes and scarlet feather in her hat. * “I haven’t the least idea ” . “We found your letter to Kate, and we girls read it,and we iesolved to take you and her by surprise. She is 10 be here in half an hour. Barbara— that is Barbara Morris iu the blue merino dress,” with a tixtU of her long , lashes toward the gofdeii haired girl, “pretends that she has tfioted here, and Kate is to come and spend the evening with Bar bara. Won’t it be a joke. “Stupendous !” said our hero, gradu ally begiuning to couipreheud the iact that he was mistakeu for someone ehte. “What will Kate say when she sees you here ?” ejaculated another maid merrily. , “Ala, what indeed? ’ said Mr. Bark dale, wonderidg Iu what words he could betft explain matters. “Of course we shall look the other way while you are kissing and hugging her,” said Miss Barbary demurely. “Yery considerate of you, I am sure,” observed Mr. Barkdale. “She’s the sweetest girl in New York” exclaimed the tall'damsel, en thusiastically. <C I am one of her dear CALHOUN, GA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23,1874. est friends. We work our sewing ma chines side by side at Madam Grillard’s Hain’t she ever written to you about Alice Moor ?” ' “I —I don’t just at this m.ment re call that she has.” “Oh, well, it doesn’t matter,” said Alice, “Just you sit down and be a good boy while we fix the tables. Aren’t those roses beautiful ? My goodness gracious, how astonished Kate will be !” * “She can’t be more so than I am,”£aid Mr. Barkdale, siuking into Ui‘e Sleepy Hollow chair, and passing his handker chief vaguely across his forehead.-r --“ Well. it’s a mere matter cf fate ; I can’t see how lam to explain. La dies—” “Hush-sh-sh-sh,” cried the six pretty girls, all in a hissing chords; Kate’s coming; Bessie has brought her. Hush sh-sh ! Don’t say a word,Mr. Greenfield. The golden haired girl’s band was clasp ed promptly over his mouth. Alice Moor grasped his p.rm spasmodically, and the other four danced a sort of be witching little feminine war dance about him, while a seventh girl entered—a pretty Madonna faced little creature like a dove. “Come and % kiss him, Kate,” cried all the others. “Now don’t be ridiculous, for we shan’t take any"inotice. Here he is!” “Kiss who,” cried Kate, standing still and staring all around her. “Girls, what on earth do you mean ?” “You provoking thing !” said Barba ry, stamping her little foot. “Do you suppose we are all fools ? Why,of course, we know all about him ! It’s Mr. Green field—your cousin,Kate —the young M D.” Kate looked aroiind iu bewilderment ‘ Where 7” , “Why here 1” “N thing,of the sort!” said Miss ate demurely. Our hero stood up feeling himself growing uncomfortably warm and red “Ladies,” he said, “there is some mis take here, I said at the outsflt that my name was not Greenfield. “Then !” cried the girls at once. “There !” echoed Kate defiantly. “Didn’t we tell you?” cried the girls. “Didn’t I tell you?” retorted Kate. “Be kind enough to let us know what your name is, sir.” “Cephas Barkdale!” said the wretched victim of a misunderstanding. “But,” said Miss Moor, “you said it was Nott Greenfield.” “Of course I did I” said the puzzled bachelor. “It isn’t Greenfield, and it never will be unless I have it changed ; by act of Legislature.” „ “O h-h ! ’ cried tlie r girls. “Dear, dear, to be sure ! And we thought you were Kate’s lover l —and his name is N-o-doubble-t —Nott Greenfield.” “Do hold your tongues, you ridiculous things!” said Kate, half vexed, half laughing. “What must Mr. Barkdaie think of us ?” “I think you are .very nice,” said Mr Barkdale, gaßaiffty. Miss Baibary had in the meantime taken a slip of paper out of her pocket. She uttered a hysterical shriek. “It’s all my fault!” she exclaimed. “It was No. 39 instead of No. 3G—and the tail of the horrid figures turned the wrong cud up—that’s ali. And the and the flowers and everything.” “ Stop, ladies, if you please,” said Mr. Barkdale, courteously. “Be cause the surprise come to the wrong place is no reason why the right person should noi enjoy it. Allow ins to give up this room to your use this evening. I will just step across the street and seud Mr. Greenfield over.” “But you must return with him,” said the girls. And Mr. Barkdale was not, allowed to depart until he had-promised. Mr. Nott Greenfield —a good lookiug medical student—who had the “sky parlor” directly opposite —came prompt ly on mention of the name of Kate Kill 'ford, and did the polite thing in intro ducing Mr. Barkdale; and Barkdale ate of the sandwiches, and enjoyed the cake and cream, and coaxed Miss Bar bary to pin a little pink rosebud in the buttonhole of his coat, and enjoyed him self prodigimsly. “I’d like to be surprised like this ev ery night in the year !” said he. “O, you greedy creature?” said Miss Barbara. “But there was one time I seriously meditated throwing myself out of the window,” said he “when you told me that I was to kiss Kate.” “Dear, dear,” said Barbara, ironical ly ; “that would have been dreadful, would’nt it ?” , . “But the awkwardness of tfie thing.” “I dare say you never kissed a pretty girl,” pouted the blonde. “I never did,” said the bacholor grow ing bold ; “but I will now, if you say so. “But I don’t say so,” said Barbara coloring and laughing. “Behave your self, sir !” Mr. Barkdale went home with the fair Barbara, and they grew to be very great friends, and where’s the use try ing toi conceal how it ended ? They were married at the year’s end, with all six surprisers for bridesmaids. Kate Kill ford included. Mr. Nott Greenfield pro poses to follow the example as soon as he gets his diploma. Cure for a Cold.—A hot lemon* ade is one of the best remedies in the ftorld for a cold It acts prom tty aud effectively, and has no unpleasant afte* effects. One lemon properly squeezed, efut in slices, put with sugar and cover with half pint boiling Wafer. Drink just before going to bed, and do not expose yourself on the following day. This remedy will ward off an attack of the chills and fever if used promlly. An African Dandy. Who would suppose that a wild Afri can, whose only dress is a piece of skin, would trouble himself about fashions? To be sure, he feels no interest in the style of coats or hats, but he is just as much absorbed in the great business of adorning himself although he followed the fashions of Paris. Carious styles he has too, as a German traveler has lately told us. To begin with, the hair is the object of his greatest care. Its training be gins in the cradle,— or would if he had a cradle, —when it is tortured into some extraordinary form, and kept there by means of gumarabic and ashes, till after long years it will retain the shape of it self. Sometime! 1 it Hke a cockscomb and sometimes like a fan. One poor baby’s hair will be trained, so that in time it will stand up in rolls over the head, like the.ridges on a melon, while aupther’s is taught to stand out like the ravs of the sun. as usually represented in.pictures. With some Africans, part of it hangs down in long regular braids or twists, and. the rest is laid up ir monstrous puffs on each side of the head. But the drollest one of all is made to look like the glory around the head of a saint—in pictures. The hair is taken in single lucks, stretched out to its greatest length, and fastened at the end to a hoop. She hoop is held in place by strong wires, and its edge or namented with small shells. The effect is yery comical. Id the most of these wonderful ar rangements the hair is parted in the middle (I wonder i p our young gentle men imported that style froin° Africa), and is kept in place by plenty of gum and ashes, or clay. All this elaborate hair dressing is on the heads of men. The women of the country wear their hair in the simplest manner, perhaps for the reason that the wife does the cooking, cultivates the land, adorns her husband with paint, and dresses his hair, which must be i enough to keep her time well occu* pied; His hair once dressed, this African dandy turns his mind to further decor at on of his body! First he rubs his shining skin wuh a mixture of grease and ashes, or powdered jyood of a red color, puts on his scanty garment, made of the skin of some animal, or of bark, occasionally trimmed with the long black tail of a monkey or other Snimal, and then he is ready for his ornaments Across his forehead, just under the edge of hair, like a fringe, he hangs a string of teeth; Thsjr may be teeth of dogs or otheranimals, or, if he is a great warrior, of his human victims. Next he adorns his breast with an ornament made of ivory, cut to resem ble lions’ teeth, and spread out in star* shape. Around his neck he hangs sev eral necklaces made ot strips 'ofskin cut from the hippopotamus, and finishes up with paiDt in various styles; dots, or stripes, or zigzags, squares like a chekc er board, or mumbled all over.— St. Nicholas for December. One of the Smith Family.- M. S. S. Smith, of Wauma tosa Wis- I consin—and no relation, by the way, of Yolney Yoltaire Smith, of Arkansas— has supposed good sense and education . enough to be the principal of an acade my. A bachelor at forty, frigid and lonely, he knew nothing about that fuller crimson that is declared to come to the robin’s breast in the spring, nor of the crest the wanton lapwig gets, fresher and £tirer than the o'd one. But in his forty-first year he fell in love with a school-girl who was yet in her teens, and who was foolish enough or romantic to oticourage all advances un til her parents noticed the flirtation and embargoed the flirt. At this Smith cut his throat. The gash was deep and dan gerous,but not fatal. Therefore the story is a bloody one A year later he had a relapse. This time it was a young wid ow, who humored, teased and finally jilted him. He promptly got out his razor again and slashed at his jugular. The result was a second scar, crossing the old one like the ends of a sawbuck. Another year passed and a month ago Smith fell in love for the third time and last time It was a teacher in his acad emy aud she really intended to marry him. Th.e wedding day was appointed and nearly reached, changed her toind because somebody told her of Smith’s previous love affairs. She could not marry a man who had loved two women before her, and so eloped with a fellow who was too young to have ever seriously loved anybody. Smith’s heart was broken this time beyond repair. He still owned the razor of bloody memo ry. His grief wfis deeper than on the previous occasions, and so was the gash. Smith is dead. Use Yonr Influence. Y'oung women, you don’t know how mueh influence you have over young men. If vou would labor earnestly, we should not have so mntij dissipated voung men in our land. Do not let them till a drunkard’s grave. I supp >se you will say “I am not to blame, I don’t believe we have anything to do with young men’s getting drunk.” Think a moment. Did ycu ever do anything to prevent them ? Did you ever go with a young man when he had been drinking a little ? “I believe so.” Well did you think as much of him as you did before he fcrank? “No.” You should have said to him : If you drink, I will not go with yoa any more.” Y"ou might have saved him from a drunkard s grave. W i’l you say that young man who is attentive to you that you do not mean to go with any young man who drinks one drop of liquor? He may shun you for a few days, but he will think of it, and will make up his mind that you are right; for what woman wants a drunken hu? 1 * band ? Jones’ Experience with Grasshoppers. Jones was a farm r in Kansas. His crops looked fine, and he chuck j led to himself as he thought of the piles i of “rags,” embellished with Chase’s pho tographs, he would have' in his pockets when his wheat was sold. Jones read in the newspapers about the grasshop pers in his State. After he had read an account one evening he remarked : “ Grasshoppers be blamed ! The idea of a little thing like a hoppergrass do ing all this damage ! Why those fel lows must be looney !” Pretty soon the ruino • came that the hoppers had got into his oWn cqpntj : but still Mr. Jones was skeptical. • One day when he was in kitchen taking a drink of water, he heard some thing drop on the floorr. He looked around and there was a grasshopper sit ting on the floor quietly chewing a nail head Mr. Jones said nothing; but he kept i ■ up a deal of thinking Next day he went into his wheat ! field and found it alive wbh ’hoppers. ' This looked to him as if grasshoppers were a reality, anyhow So they came—thicker and faster— came into Jones’ house; they ate all the nails out of the w atherboarding, and the boardsrdropped off on the ground; they chawed his chimney down flush with the roof; they ate his cook stove; they even ate his cellar out, so that he could not even find the hole it come out of. H° had a wagon painted green. The ’hoppers thought it was something good to eat, and so they got the wagon ipside of themselves also. JoneS’saw this destruct'on. He was heard to remark : “Oh, the dickens! won’t I believe the newspape.s after this,” and with these remarks he started on a run for the depot. He took the first train ! East, and now believes that such things I as grasshoppers exist.— Danbury News. li ■ v . A Surveyors Saved by a Horse. Some years since, a paity of survey- j ors had just finished their day’s work in ! the northwestern part of Illinois, when a violeut snowstorm catne on. They started for their camp, which was in a forest of about 80 acres in a large prai rie, nearly 29 miles from any other trees. The wind was blowing very i hard, and the snow drifting so as to ! nearly blind them. ~ j, IV hen they thought they had nearly reached their camp, they all at once came upon footsteps in the snow. These they looked at with care, and found, to their dismay, that they were their own traeks. It was now plain that they were lost on the great prairie, and if they had to pass the night there, in the cold and snow, the chance was that not one of them would be alive in themorn ing. VV hile they were shivering with tear and cold, .the chief men caught sight of one of their horses, & gray po ny known as “Old Jack.” Then the chief said: “If any one can show us the way to cauip, out of this blinding snow, Old Jack can do it. I will take off his bridle and let him loose, and we can fdlow him. I th'nk he will show us our way back to camp.’ The horse, as soon as he found him self free, threw hig head and tail in the air, as if proud of the trust that had been put upo" him. Then he snuffed the breeze aud gave a loud snort, which seemed to say, “Come on boys ! Follow me. I’ll lead you out of this scrape.” He tjien turned in anew direction, and trotted along, but not so fast that the men eould not follow him. They had not gone more than a mile when they saw the cheerful blaze of their camp fires and*they gave a loud huzza at the sight, and for Old Jack. -- Oat-of-door Exercise. Our eyes have just now fallen upon a passage in Mr. Greeley’s last letter from Europe, in which he speaks of the appearance of the English women, and commends, with a little more than his usual ardor and expression, their per fection of figure. lie attributes this, and very justly, to the English ladies’ habit of out j of-door exercise. We had thought that this fact was well known ; that it was' known years ago, and that our fair countrywomen would catch a hint from it that would throw color into their cheeks and fullness into their forms. And yet, sadly enough, our la dies still coop themselves in their heat-* ed rooms, until their faces aie like lilies, and their figures—like My-stems. W 6 have alluded to the matter now, riot for the sake of pointing a satire surely, but for the sake of asking those one or two hundred thousand ladies, who exery* month light our path with their looks, if they do indeed prize a little unnatu ral peat i mss hue and delicacy af com plexion, beyond the ruddy flush of health (“the very tempter a kiss!”) and that full development of figure, which all the poets, from Homer down, have made one of the chiefest beauties of a woman? If not, let them make them selves horsewomen ; or bating that, let them mirke acquaintance with the sun rise ; let them pick flowers with the dew upon them ; let them study music of nature’s own orchestra. Vulgarity is not essential to health, and a lithe, clas sic figure does not grow in hot-houses For ourselves, we incline heartily to the belief, that 7f American women have a wish to add to tie rssppct, the admira tion, the love, and (if need be) the fear of men, they will find an easier road to ward that gain, in a little vigorous out of-door exercise, and a uniform attention to the great essentials of health, than in any new-fangled costumes or loudly-ap plauded ‘rights.” Envy is a consuming fire and h; t* a: harbors it is like one who tries to cast fire brands at those who are beyond their reach. Haw to get RiHij Several of the richest men in this country have given iu sententious lau guage, the secret of their worldly suc cess and fortune. “There is no secrH about it,” said Commodore Vanderbilt; -‘all you have to do is to tend to your -busyiess and go ahead—except one thing,” added the Commodore, “and that is to never tell what you are going to do till you have done it.” Asa Packer re cently gave his idea of the way to get rich iu the remark : ‘‘Economy and safe investment are about the best means of attaining financial prosperity. George I Law, also, who is a tolerable rich ojen ! remarked in conversation : ‘There is ; nothing so easy as making money wheu you have uiouey to make it with ; the only thing is to see the crisis and take it in at its flood; and, when furthei pressed to tell the secret of his own suc cess,lie quickly responded : ‘■Determin ation to work, and working,” A. T. Stewart told an anxious inquirer that he “considered honesty and truth great aids in the gaining of fortune.” To these observations we add that of Roths child, the founder of the worltl-renowti ed house of Rothschild & Cos., ascribed his success to the following : “Never have anything to do with an unlucky man .Be cautlotts &M bold. Make a bargain at ouce.” ' As_a preparation for success in life, next to good health and a souud comti tution, nothing is more valuable than the faculty of saving. Asa writer iu the Spectator lately said,'there is no greater blessing for p opTe of modern# ineins than the possession of a year’s expenditures and few liiing'i which arc harder to r.ttaiu or are rarely fjund. John Jacob Astor said it was easier to make a fortune after having saved the first thousand dollars, than to amass lhat fcam H the and so a year’s income once obtained a founda r tion stone of confidence and capital, on which one may erect one of the loftiest and most abitious edifices. A man with a year's income “laid away,” as the Scotch say, is twice the man with double his income and no store, not onlv because he is not ih debt, but because lie can afford to try life in his own way, instead of the ways other people are willing to open out to him, because lie inot afraid of an experiment, because, in fact, he can Use the great secret Of all success. .lie can wait. Hand Shaking-. How did the people get n;to the hab it of shaking hands? The answer is nut lar to seek. In early and barbarous times when every savage or semi-savage Was bis own law giver, judge soldier and policeman, he had to*watch over his own safety in default of*all other protec tion, two I riends and acquaintances, or two strangers desiring to become friends and acquaintances, when they chanced offered each to the other the 1 Lglit baud the hand alike of dcfenceuud offence the hand that wields the sword, the dagger, the club, the -tomihawk or other weapons of war. Each did this to show the hand was empty, and that neither war nor treachery was intended. A man cannot well stab another while he is shaking hands with him unless he is a double dyed traitor and vidian and strives to aim n cowardly blow with the "left while giving tfic right and pretend ing to be on good terms with his vic tim. I he custom of hand shaking prevails more or less among all civilized nations, and is the tacit avowal of friendship and good will—just as a kiss is of a warm passion. Ladies, as every one must have remarked, seldom or never shake hands with the cordiality of a gentleman, unless it be with each othbr. The reason is obvious: It is for them to receive homage—not ’to give it. They cannot be expect'd to show to persons of the other sex a warmth of greeting which might be misinterpreted, unless such persons are very closely re* luted to them by family or affection, in which case hand sh/king is uot needed, and the lips do a much more agreeable duty. The ffftltfi of Swearing.' The meanest, most useless most contemptible vice that ever grew rank 1 in the hothouse of the devil is profane swearing. We protest against it not as preachers and church members object to sin on professional grounds but as Members of society, os decent men. On boat o , in cars, in places of business, on the open concert doors and ev erywhere else rings the incessant oath of the habitual swearer. Young men just lea ning to curse appear to think there is something manly and brave about it; while old swearers interlard the commonest remarks they make with cold-blooded blasphemies and a variety of diabolical curses. No man or woman of any refinement or decency at all can be otherwise than lacerated and shocked by these brutal and vuilger verbal mis sills every day ; and no fellow who is shamefully guilty of projecting them can do otherwise than sink beneath the contempt of such men and women with every vile epithet they hear him utter. Public profanity ought to be an indict able offense with a penalty of ten days in jail for every oath. As Irishman went a fishing and among other things he hauled in a large siied turtle- To enjoy the sur priso of the servant girl he put it in her room. Next morn’Thg the first that i bounced into the breakf r-m w Biddy with the exclamation, "B< job-] t rs I've gut the d*vil. —s*-\VhAdovil? enquired her master. “Why, the bull bed-bug that’s been ating the children fbr-the last two months.’’ ADVERTISING * * For each nquiir* of for the first insertion, sl, andTot cwpl tab sequent insertion, fifty cents. f No.Rq’ra ) j ilo. f | t> Mof .[ I jrewr. Two S4.TmT f H Four “ 6.00 10.00. | iO.OO 86.00 1 column 9.00 15.00 25.00 40.00 i• “ 15.00 25,00 4^.00 1 “ 25.00 4000 Moo yir.,oo OfcaST Ten lines of solid it* equivalent in space, make a square.- NO. 22. Winter Rooms. , * The glories of Autumn are ; cc 5 chill Winter compels us to seek on* aa joyuient within doors. If we can find there the greenery of Summer, ami tfw> splendor of Autumn, rubbed indeed of their dreariness will rho the Winter days With just a little fore sight and a few hours of pleasant to#, this is within the reach of almost dter/ family. Scarcely any house bt|fr harat least one sunny Southern room;,f||| sho dd be the family room. Here should be giitliesni the bonk*, 1 the pictures, the pleasant furniture, and every thirn* that will make the apartment attractive to visitorvand enjoyable to its Oocuptt is. W indow gardening hnsbrco7V§ Well nigh universal, end those who ha\t c-. -ee tasted its delights will be plow twrefifo quis li them. T iic gel an i a ms, and fu o sias and heliotropes transferred from their bed in the open air to the su.m/ window 7 shelf, will be green for wf! winter. Hyacinth bulbs will aenfl up their bright lances and disclose odorous spikes of filling the room with beauty and fragrance. The ivy, maurandia, money wort,yn*d Windowing Jew ask only a Jitfcto earth or a cup of water to give us delicate t-aecry cf foli age tho whole’season. If we but bids a slip of each in w bottle of water lml suspend it en the back of frames, presently (ho green leaves will peep out and entwine themselves loving, ly around the frame. Hanging baskets of wire covered with gayly tinted tissue paper, or vfith bits of gray or brown moss, or ttlth talc'd raveling* of warm rich hue,,may hoi? tin can* otherwise uaelces, from whfch with only water and a swoefc potato In them abundance of trailing vine*/will twine themselves whither a thread ahaffr lead them. Of ornaments ftoif. Autumn 1 leaves there is no end. Harps, anchor* * crosses, cut from pasteboard and eovlred with loaves of crjmson and rnssef, and brown and gold hanging on the trails, will perpetu>to tho memory and the beauty of the lovely October. Cornices may be mr.de of them; they may be tastefully arranged upou and to the window panes as‘to the .effect in the stained glasa, or arranged in bou quets and placed in vaae3 on brackets. lime srent iu making home thus tractue is most wisely inreetbd. Foogh manners,.ill fcempg, carelessness, with the ills that usually follow in their train, cannot find a congenial restihg place-in an apartment which refinement and tasto have, made their os. Boys will not leave their home thus bvautified by the hand of a loving mother ol si.Merf rr.d filled with the charm of thair gracious and sunny presence for the gilded . loons where pleasure allures but to de stroy. There cannotj.be for the young or the old a stronger safeguard l vice than* cozy, hrppy, virtipttKud beautiful home. . „ Auihors and Tenters. N. P. Willis set a high raid!* or / * piactical knowledge of printing for au- # thors. lie was himself one pf the brotherhood, and of the subject as follower If there were an apprenticeship to authorship, it would consist in the •. thor’s spending a year at the case. Not alone to learn the importance of clear pennmanship, of how to prepare copy and become familiar with the signs, marks and abbreviations used in proof reading, though these are matters .an acquaintance with which would save much time and vexation, and , rrevent serious blunders. The chief advance* would be to the author himself. There is no mch effectual analysis */ it yle a the process of typesetting. As he take* up letter by letter, of a long or com pi^x sentence, the compositor becomes most critically aware of' where the sen tence might have been shortened to save his labor. lie detects repetition becomes impa'ient of redundancies, ret’ ognires the careless or inappropriate use of expletives.and soon puts an admiring value on clearness and brevity. We venture to say phat it would the whole character of American literature, if authors were compelled, before legal!" ly receiving a copyright, to have given one year at the compositor’s We have said nothing of the nice irt of* punctuation, which is also acquired in * tho*printing offices and by which a sty!©* is made as much more tasteful a* * champagne by* effervescing.” ♦ . t . A New York paper has discovered that “an infinitely suddivided dritura ton of the lung (fa long win led f< sis an unfailing remedy for th§ human asth “a* We bawe previously been of this opinion ourselves, bat now we incline - to thin if, that the inner cellc&sr proves* of the tueoracic membrane of a rugged Durham bnll, taken out put to *oak with a cartilag n ms depisit of the sub— ... maxillary morter, will be more effectual in all cases where the asthma docs not settle down and become epine&eect Un* der the pericardium. v A Leavenworth editor has a gore ear. The~low stage of water in the j river renders it difficult for him N it all over, at once ; after washing it, however, as best as he can, he applies twenty pounds of motton talker; it in army blankets; props it up with oak timbers and keeps righ^along with his ink-slinging. 7 Laug h 1 others preg sure to * Ik* hughir'_ at •-•©> r w'Hst ft ri diculous in them tith f'has t- eu ic ojt lot - . r A 'NEIGHBOR I*s Hut .vju ply DC v4:o' lives near to Us, but he who does a Neighborly turn, as well as he to whom we can do the same.