Newspaper Page Text
gt'aJUp9Mit SOtauea.
PUBLISHED WEDNESDAYS
By D. B. Freeman, Proprietor.
RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION.
Or.e Year $2.00
Six Mouths ...1.00
Ten copies one year 15.00
Communications on matters of pub
lic interest solicited.
JUUroail jMwfale.
WESTERN& ATLANTIC RAILROAD.
PAY PASSENGER TRAIN —OUTWARD.
Leave Atlanta 8:40 a. m
At rive Calhoun 12:40 p. m
“ Chattanooga 850 P. M
PAY PASSENGER TRAIN—INWARP.
Leave Chattanooga 5:15 P. M.
Arrive Calhoun 8:81 a. m.
“ Atlanta 12:35 p. m.
NIGHT PASSBNGKR TR VIN —OUTWARD.
Leavo Atlanta 5:55 p. m.
Arrive Calhtftiti.. 9:41 p. m.
i* Chattanooga 12:30 a. m.
NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN —INWARD.
Leave Chattanooga 4:00 p. m.
Arrive Calhoun 6:38 p. m.
Atlanta 10:15 p. M.
ACCOMMODATION TRAIN —OUTWARD.
Leave Atlanta 3:50 r. m.
Arrive Calhoun 10:28 P. M.
i( Dalton 11:55 p. m.
AtiijoiilttOUATlON TRAIN —INWARD.
Leave Daltoil:. 1:00 A. M.
Arrive Calhoun..u..ais.*i 3:00 a. m.
i‘ Atlanta:. 10:08 A. M
i>roftjisionat & 58nsliuss (Cards.
-p J. KIKER & SON,
attorneys at law,
Will practice in all the Courts of the Cher
ekee Circuit; Supreme Court ot Georgia, and
the United States District Court at Atlanta,
Ga. Office: Sutlieast corner of the Court
House, Calhoun, Ga.
TjSATN & 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 ourts, at Atlanta.
J|ANKIN & NEEL,
attorneys at law,
CALHOUN, GA.
Office : Court House Street.
J D. TINSLEY,
Watch-Maker & Jeweler,
CALOUN , a A .
All styles of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry
Peatly repaired and warranted.
WALDO THORNTON, D. D. S..
DENTIST.
Office over Geo. W. Wells & Co.’S Agricul
tural Warehouse.
yjISS C. A. HUDGINS,
Milliner & Mantua-Maker,
Court House St., Calhoun,Ga,
Patterns of the latest styles and fashion
ladies just received. Gutting and
done to order.
MUSIC! MUSIC!
A large variety of new anti 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,
$4.00; use of instrument, 50 ennts. Recep
tion days, Tuesdays and Thursdays.
ZT. GRAY,
. CALHOUN, GA„
Is prepared to furnish the public with
Buggies and Wagons, bran new and warrant
ed. Repairing of all kinds done at short
notice. Would call attention to the cele
rated “Fish Brothers’ Wagon which he fuv
indies. Call and examine before buying
elsewhere.
NEW - GROCERY STORE.
J. W. Marsliall.
RAILROAD ST., OLD STAND OF
A. W. BALLEW.
FRESH GOODS, BOUGHT FOR
CASH, AND WILL BE SOLD
FOR CASH AT THE VERY
LOWEST PRICES.
Would respectfully ask his numerous
friends in Gordon county to come in and
see him before making purchases elsewhere.
1 PROPOSE TO OPEN ON
Monday, January 10th, 1875,
CALHOUN MALE AND FEMALE
HIGH SCHOOL.
Assisted by Mrs. M. E. FIELD, a known
and experienced instructress. The school
"ill be divided into three grades, the Pri
mary. Intermediate and Academic. The
PRIMARY DEPARTMENT
"ill embrace the following studies:
Holmes’ Speller and Readers, Nos. 1,
2,3 and 4, Maury’s Geography,
No. 1, Primary Arithmetic and
Practical Lessons in Penmanship, S2OOO
INTERMEDIATE.
Bnglisn Grammar, Geography, Mau
ry’s Intermdiate Arithmetic,
First Lessons in English Compo
sition, Pennmansbip, and Algebra
through Simple Equations, with
heading, Elocution and Spelling, S3OOO
ACADEMIC.
Philosophy, Natural and Moral Chem
istry, Rhetoric, Algebra, Geome
try, and such studies as are usu
ally taught in high schools with
Latin, Greek and French S4O 00
Hne Arts and Instrumental Music at Pro
essor’s charges.
tlhe scholastic year will be divided into
t"o terns of 24 and 16 weeks each.
TUITION FEES.
Primary Department, Ist term sl2 00
intermediate “ “ “ IS 00
Academic “ “ “ 24 00
Incidental expenses per term 1 00
luition paid quarterly in advance.
It is desired that patrons send in prompt
ly the first week, that all may be present at
. ® tormation oe classes. We earnestly so
*cit the patronage of the vicinity and coun
(y and hope by arduous effort to merit your
®tntinued support.
W, (’. HOLMES, A. M, Principal.
Mrs. M. F: FIELD 'Assistant.
aov2G-tf
- - L - 111 ■■ 1 l|1 " ■■ , 11
YOL. Y.
THE PERPLEXED HOUSEKEEPER.
I wish I had a dozen fcftirs
Of hands this very minute ;
I’d soon put all these things to rights
The very deuce is in it."
Here’s a big washing to be done,
One pair of hands to do it—
Sheets, shirts and stockings, coats and
pants—
How will I e’er get through it ?
Dinner to get for six or more,
No loaf left o’er from Sunday,
The baby cross as he can live—
He’s always so on Monday.
And there’s the cream, ’tis getting sour,
And must forthwith be churning,
And here’s Bob wants a button on—
Which vvay shall I be turning?
’Tis time thti rticat was in the pot,
The bread wa* worked for baking,
The clothes were taken from the boil—
Oh dear! the baby’s waking!
Oh dear !if P comes home,
And finds things in this bother,
He’ll just begin, and tell me all
About hio tidy mother.
How nice her kitchen used to be,
Her dinner always ready
Exactly whan the dinner bell rung—
Hush, hush, dear little Freddy.
And then will come some hasty word,
Right out before I’m thinking—
They say that hasty words from wives
Set sober men to drinking.
Now isn’t that a great idea,
That men should take tD sinning,
Because a weary, half-sick wife
Can’t always smile so winning ?
When I was young I used to earn
My living without trouble J
Had clothes and pocket money too,
And hours of leisure double.
I never dreamed of such a fate
When I, a lass was courted—
Wife, mother, nurse, seemstress, cook,
house-keeper, chambermaid, laundress,
dairy woman, and scrub generally, do
ing the work of six,
For the sake of being supported.
A TOUCHING STORY.
Ugly Sam and Why He Reformed —A
Promise to a Dying Mother.
He had been missing from the “ Po
tomac” for several d;>ys, and Cleveland
Tom, Port Huron Bill, Tall Chicago,
and the rest of the boys, who were wont
to get drunk with him, couldn’t make
out what had happened. They hadn't
heard that there was a warrant out for
him, had never known of his being
sick for a day, and his absence from the
old haunts puzzled them. They were
in the Hole-im-the-Wall saloon the oth
er morning, nearly a dozen of them,
drinking, smoking, and playing cards,
when in walked Ugly Sam.
There was a deep silence for a few
moments as they looked at him. Sam
had anew hat, had been shaved clean,
had on a clean collar and a white shirt,
and they didn’t know him at first.—
Wbeu they saw that it was Ugly Sam
they uttered a shout and leaped up.
“ Cave in that hat!” cried one.
“ Yank that collar off!” shouted an
other.
“Let’s roll him on the floor !” scream
ed a third.
There was something in his look and
bearing which made them hesitate.—
The whisky-red had almost faded from
his face, and he looked sober and dig
nified. His features expressed disgust
and contempt as he looked around the
room, and then revealed pity as his eyes
fell upon the red eyes and bloated faces
of the crowd before hint.
“ Why, what ails ve, Sam?” inquir
ed Tall Chicago, as they all stood
there.
“ I’ve come down to bid you good by,
boys !” he replied, removing his hat
and drawing a clean handkerchief from
his pocket.
“ What! Hev ye turned preacher?”
they shouted in chorus.
“ Roys, ye know I can lick any two
of yc, but I liain’t on the fight any
more, and I’ve put down the last drop
of whisky which is ever to go into my
mouth ! I’ve switched off. I’ve taken
an oath. I’m going to be decent!”
“ Sam, be you crazy ?” asked Port
Huron Bill, coming nearer to him.
“ I come down here to tell ye all
about it,” answered Sam. “ Move the
cha’rs back a little and give me room.
Ye all know I’ve been rough, and more
too. I’ve been a drinker, a fighter, a
gambler, and a loafer. I can t look
back and remember when I’ve earned
an honest dollar. The police hez chased
me around like a wolf, and Ive been
in jail and the workhouse, and the pa
pers has said that Ugly Sam was the
terror of the Potomac. Ye all know
this, boys, but ye didn’t know I had an
old mother.”
The faces of the crowd expressed
amazement.
“ 1 never mentioned it to any of ye,
for I was neglecting her,” he went on.
“ She was a poor old woman, living up
here in the alley, and if the neighbors
hadn’t helped her to fuel and food, she and
have been found dead long ago. I
never helped her to a cent didn t see
her for weeks and weeks, and I used to
feel mean about it. hen a fellow
goes back on his old mother he s a-git
tin’ purt.y low, and I know it. M e R
she’s dead—buried yesterday ! I was
up there afore she died. She sent for
me by Pete, and when I got there I
seen it was all day with hei.
“ Did she say anything ?” asked one
of the boys, as Sam hesitated.
“ That’s what ails me now,” he went
on. “ When I went in she reached out
her hand to me, and, says she . feamu
el, I’m going to die, and I know a you and
want to see me afore I passed away .
l sat down, feeling queer-like. She
didn’t go on and say as how I was a
loafer, and had neglected her, and ah
that, but says she : 4 Samuel, you II be
CALHOUN, GA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 24, 1875.
all alone when I’m gone. I’ve treid to
be a good mother to you, and have
prayed for you hundred o’ nights, and
cried about you until my old heart was
sore !’ Some of the neighbors had
dropped in, and the women were cry
ing, and I tell you I felt weak !”
He paused for a moment, and then
continued :
“ And the old woman said she’d like
to kiss me afore death came, and that
broke me right down. She kept hold
of*my hand, and by and by she whis
pered: ‘ Samuel, you are throwing
your life away. You’ve got it in you
to be a man, if you’ll only make up
your mind. I hate to die and feel that
my only son and the last of our family
may go to the gallows. If I had your
promise that you’d turn over anew leaf,
and try and be good, it seems as if I’d
die easier. Won’t you promise me, my
son ?’ And 1 promised her, hoys, and
that’s what ails me ! She died holding
my hand, and I promised to quit the
low business, and to go to work. I
eame down to tell ye, and now, you
Won’t see me on the Potomac again.—
I’ve bought an ax, and am going up in
Canada to winter.”
There was a dead silence for a mo
ment, and then he said ;
“ Well, boys, I’ll shake hands with
ye all around afore I go. Good-by,
Pete—good by, Jack—Tom—Jim. I
hope ye won’t fling any bricks at me,
and 1 shan’t never fling at any of ye.—
It’s a dying promise, ye see, and I’ll
keep it if it takes a right arm 1”
The men looked reflectively at each
other after he had passed out, and it.
was a loDg time before any one spoke.
Then Tall Chicago flung his clay pipe
into a corner, and said :
“ I’ll lick the man who says Ugly
Sam’s head isn’t level!”
“ So’ll I!” repeated the others.— De
troit Free Press.
A Short Sermon.
BY SISTER JOHN.
My friend was walking up State
street, late one windy afternoon, when
he encountered a short sermon on tem
perance. The air was keen and cold,
with “ symptoms ” of snow. He had
pulled his cap down over his ears as far
as possible, and buttoned his overcoat
close to keep out the stingling lake
wind, and was hurrying along at a pace
that might rival Weston’s, when he
nearly ran over a little child not more
than four years old, who had fallen on
the side-walk near him.
“ Ileigho, Sis !” he exclaimed, lifting
her safely to her feet again.
The little ragamuffin put up a very
grieved lip, and was going to cry ; but
stopped when he spoke pleasantly to
her.
“ Whew ! bare-foot, and such a day
as this ” —with a low whistle—“ why
don’t you run home, Sis, and put on
your shoes and stockings, before you
freeze your toes ?”
“ Don’t dot any shoes and stotin’s.”
“ Don’t got any, eh ! How does that
happen ? Don’t your father buy you
any shoes and stockings ?”
“ Oh, no !” she answered, with a tone
that meant “ of course not,” and a man
ner indicating that she considered the
reason amply sufficient, “ No, my Pa
dets drunk.”
Let Others Know It*
Patrons have not, as a general rule,
giver, sufficient importance of placing
their experience an l ideas before broth
er Patrons, through the medium of
their local papers. A letter once in
print, will reach a thousand people
where, perhaps, when spoken or read by
the author, its words did not come to
the hearing of a score. Resides, when
a thing has attained the dignity of
print, it commands an amount of atten
tion that in the vast majority of instan
ces would be refused if otherwise. A
good ide , pithily expressed, is, in the
agricultural press, practically immortal.
Months after it has gone the rounds,
it re-appears, no one knows how or
whence, and has fresh as common sense
and wisdom always are, sets out once
more on its beneficent journey.
Let the Patrons give their local pa
pers —they have the first claim upon
them invariably—their views and ex
periences as briefly and vividly as pos
sible, and then rest in the conviction
that they have done no slight amount
of good, for they will have stimulated
other minds and provoked discussion.
Humble as are the flint and steel, they
may kindle a mighty fire. So the shock
of minds in the discussions ran evoke
ideas, settle truths and promote intelli
gence.
The Way to Get Along. —Twenty
clerks in a store, twenty hands in a
printing office, twenty apprentices in a
ship yard, twenty young men in a vil
lage—all want to get along in the world
and expect to do so. One of the clerks
will become a partuer, and make a for
tune ; one of the compositors will own a
newspaper, and become an influential
citizen ; one of the apprentices will be
come a master-builder ; one of the youpg
villagers will get a handsome farm, and
live like a patriarch —but which one is
the lucky individual ? Lucky ? There
is no luck about it. The thing is al
most as certain as the rule of three.—
The young fellow who will distance his
competitors is he who masters his busi
ness, who preserves his integrity, who
lives cleanly and purely, who devotes
his leisure to the acquisition of knowl
edge, who gains friends by deserving
them and who saves spare money. There
are aume ways to fortune shorter than
his old, dusty highway ; but the staunch
men of the community, the men who
achieve something really worth having,
good fortune, good name, and serene old
age, go in this hard, dirty road.
Liritigetone’s Last i)ajs?
The accounts of the closing scenes of
the traveler, given in the newly publish
ed journals, are very touching. One of
the notices condenses the narrative
thus :
The country was desolate, there was
no game; it was thinly populated.—
Sometimes the cooing < f doves, the
screaming of the falcolin, the music of
singing birds, announced that a village
was near ; but the people supposed him
to be a slave hunter, conoealed their food
and deserted their villages as soon as he
approached Others, pretending to act
as guides, misdirected ; and on one oc
casion he last his way tor a fortnight
This terrible life soon began to tell up
on a constitution already enfeebled by
disease. He offered up prayers that he
might be allowed to finish his Work and
return and be at rest. But first he
must find the four fountains. “Noth
ing earthly,” he says, “will make me
give up my work in despair.” On the
19th of April, he writes : “I am excess
ively weak, and but for the donkey could
not move a hundred yards. It is not
all pleasure, this exploration.” On the
21st he started in the morning from a
small village where he had slept; but
before he had gone very far he fell from
the donkey, and was taken by his men
back to the village. They made a litter
and carried him slowly from village to
village. On the 25th he was brought
to a hamlet from which the people had
not run away. He called them, and
asked if they knew of a hill on which
four rivers took their rise. They re
plied that they were not in the habit of
traveling. On the 27th he made the
last entry in his diary. “Used up, quite,
and remain—recover —sent to buy milch
goats. We are on the banks of the
Molilamo.” He was now unable to stand
upright. He often implored his bear
ers to blace the litter on the ground.—
Sometimes a drowsiness came over him ;
and the men became frightened, for th°y
knew that death was drawing near.—
They arrived at Ilala and laid him in a
hut on a native bed, raised above the
ground. Beside him was placed a box
with the medicine chest upon it, out
side, near the door, was lighted a fire,
and around it the watchers awaiting for
the end. A boy lay down within the
hut. It was the night of the 30th of
April. At lip. m., he sent for Susi,
and asked whether those were bis men
shouting. Susi replied that it was the
natives scaring away a buffalo from their
fields. He then asked how many days
it was to the Luapula, and soon after"
wards sighed as if in great pain, and
said : “ Oh, dear, dear !” and then
dozed oft. At midnight Susi was sent
for again, and Livingstone took a dose
of calomel. He then said in a feeble
voice, “All right, you can go now.”—
These were his last words. At 4A. M.,
the boy ran to Susi, aud said : “Come to
Bwana. lam afraid ; l don’t know if
he is alive.” Susi called Chumah and
four other men, and they entered the hut.
Their master was not on the bed, but
kneeling beside it; a candle stuck by
its own wax to the the top of a box, shed
a light sufficient for them to see his
form. His body was stretched forward,
his head buried it his hands upon the
pillow. One of the men approached
softly, and put his hand to his cheeks.
They were quite cold. Livingstone was
dead. A little while afterwards the
cocks crew. It was the morning of May
1, 1873.
Religion and Temperace.
It is just a j impossible for a man to
be religious aim drink whisky as it is
for the beneficial effects of the sun’s
rays to be I‘eJt when heavenly canopy is
obscured by clouds, and when we note
a member of the church drawing spir
itual consolation from a bottle, whether
it be labeled bitters or whisky, instead
of from the Scriptures, we decide at
once that his faith is wanting, and that
he is paving the way to a disorderly
state of existence. We can scarcely
remember even a successful liquor sel
ler.who drank his own whisky, and al
most al l respectable ones refuse to
drink or all“w their clerks, w* lie be
hind their bars, and this is natural, for
they well know the pernicious effects of
intemperance, and that their interests
would suffer by such indulgence.
We know men who can never find
fifty cents to give to their wives even
for the necessaries of life at times, who
will, within an hour after such refusal
speud twice or thrice the sum foy whis
ky, headache and remorse.
A drunkard cannot inherit the king
dom of heaven, because he will not,
and a truly good man will not lend his
countenance to the downfall of bis fcl
lowman by setting an example of in
temperance. —Atlanta Commonwealth.
Clean Teeth. —If you will only
keep your teeth clean they won’t decay.
The wonderful dentifrices which are
sold at fabulous price are greatly infe
rior to a simple mixture of soap and
prepared cualk, with a little something
like orris root ) but the essential arti
cles are soap and chalk. The druggist
will prepare you enough for a quarter
of a dollar to last a long time. When
you go to bed, with a broad, soft tooth
brush go through the mouth thoroughly.
If disposed to a bad mouth you may re
peat the dose in the morning. Rut the
principal article for keeping the teeth
clean is a toothpick —a soft goose quill
—which you must use after eating, ao
matter though it is a piece of apple,
and, if convenient, after the pick use a
mouthful of water to rinse from between
the teeth what the toothpick may have
left.
A good kick out ot doors is better
thau a rich uncle.
Fatal Fanaticism.
Up among the mountains of North
ern Pennsylvania, in Mt. Pleasant town
ship, Wayne county, sixteen miles from
Ilonesdale, lives a well-to do and re
spected farmer named William Hacker.
He is a widower. Living with him
was an only daughter, named Crissy,
aged 26 years, a personally prepossess
ing and fine looking woman. For a
few years past she has been subject to
spells of religious insanity. At these
times she imagined that she held con
verse with what she termed her “ Im
manuel,” and said she had committed
great sins against him, and she was en
deavoring to appease his wrath by mak
ing burnt offerings to him. She would
build altars and offer up sacrifices by
burning clothing, pieces of wool, and
various articles. Her father fearing
that she might, during one of these pe
riods of mental hallucination, do herself
some harm, kept a close watch over her
movements.
Some time ago, Mr. Hackei was
obliged to go to Carbondale after a load
of coal. Li is daughter having mani
fested signs of the recurrence of one
of her insane spells, he gave orders to
a man who was cutting wood for him
to keep a strict watch over her until
his return. At noon the man went in
to his own house, a short distance away,
to get his dinner. He left Miss Hack
er moving quietly about the house.—
While he was eating his dinner he
heard sounds of someone breaking
sticks with an ax proceeding from Mr.
Hacker’s kitchen, but the sounds ceas
ing in a few minutes, he thought noth
ing further of the circumstance.
About two in the afternoon, Mr.
Hacker returned home. On entering
the kitchen a sight that transfixed him
with horror and chilled his very blood
met his eves. Upou what had been a
rude altar or pyre, and still roasting in
its coals, lay the body of his daughter,
the greater part of it burned to a crisp
Both limbs were burned off at the knee.
The left arm and abdomen were reduced
to ashes, and the hair was burned en
tirely off the head. The face of the
unfortunate girl was not much burned,
and instead of being distorted bj the
terrible agony she must have experi
enced before death ensued, as singular
and incredible, as it may seem, it bore a
calm and peaceful expression, on the
lips a faint smile, as if the girl had died
happy in the thought that by her terri
ble sacrifice she had fouud forgiveness
in the eyes of her angry Immanuel,
and passed into the fullness of eternal
So paralysed Was Mr. Hacker with
horror that it was some time before he
essayed to make any investigation into
the manner in which his daughter had
prepared for her fearful self-immola
tion. He then found that she had
formed an altar at the edge of the
hearthstone, out of a set of quilting;
frames, having cut them to suit her
purpose. On the health and communi
eating with the altar, she piled the light
and combustible wood. She then took
up a portion of the carpet and laid it
on the altar, making a pi’low for her
head. When found, the body Jay on
the right side, with the cheek resting
on the right hand, on the pillow, and
everything went to indicate that as the
position she had assumed when she laid
down, and that she had not moved or
flinched when the fire she had kindled
in the combustibles at her side envel
oped her.
Thinking that his unfortunate daugh
ter might have left some writing ex
plaining or throwing some light, upon
her unparalleled action, Mr. Hacker in
stituted a search. In the family Bible,
which he found lying on the parlor ta
ble, opened at the book of Job, he
found a note addressed to himself
Miss Hacker, in her insane moments,
compared her condition to that of Job.
and pored over his melancholy utteran
ces for hours. The note stated that for
great sins committed against her Im
manuel, it had been revealed to her
that day that in no other way could she
obtain forgiveness but by offering her
self up as a burnt offering. She said
that her remains would be found in the
Northeast part of the house, and di
rected that she should be buried in
“ her Immanuel’s ground,” at the
Northwest corner of the house. On
going to the spot indicated, Mr. Hack
er found that she had staked out the
ground for her grave.
No occurrence ever created so pro
found a sensation in Wayne county as
this, and the stricken father has the
sympathies of the whole country round.
Girl Wanted.
Yes, I want another—“ A tidy girl
to do house work in a small family—
wages and a good home.” That’s
the way my advertisement always reads,
and as soon as the paper is out the girls
commence coming. Tidy girls from ten
to sixty-five years’ old come pulling the
bell, and when told that they won’t suit
put on such a look of contempt for
the door, the door plate, the front gate
and the entire institution that the
world seems three degrees hotter than
before.
I always engage the girl, this is be
cause of an idea of mine that I can
read human nature, and because I do
not fear to tell them in plain English
what is expected of them. After the
door bell has been pulled about five
times, the right sort of a looking girl
makes her appearance. She says she
saw the advertisem a ut, and is invited
in. She says she can do any kind of
cooking, loves to wash, is fond of chil
dren, can never sleep after five o’clock
in the morning, never goes out even-*
ings, does not know a young man in
Detroit, and she’d be willing to work
for low wages for the sake of getting a
good home.
She was told to drop her bundle, lay
off her things and go to work, and a
great burden rolls off my mind as I
congratulate myself that the prize-med
al girl has arrived at last. She’s all
right up to about seven in the evening,
when she is suddenly missed, and re
turns about ten o’clock to say that she
“just dropped out” to get a postage
stamp. The next day she begins to
scatter the tea spoons in the back yard,
stops her ironing to read a dime novel,
and at supper time wants to know if I
can’t send the children off to live with
their grandfather, get a cook-stove with
silver-plated knobs and have an addi
tion built on to the kitchen. That
evening a big red-headed butcher walks
in, crosses his legs over the kitchen ta
ble and proceeds to court Sarah. She
doesn’t last but a day or two lo nger, and
then we secure another.
This one is right from New Hamp
shire, and doesn’t know a soul in Mich
igan, and yet she hasn’t finished the
dinner dishes before a cross-eyed young
man rings the bell and says he'd like to
see Hannah for a moment. After see
ing him, Hannah concludes not to stay,
as we are so far from St.. John’s church,
and as we don’t appear to be religious
people.
The next one especially recommends
herself as being “ just like their own
mother ” to the children, and isn’t in
the house half a day before she draws
Small Pica over her knee and gives him
a regular old Canadian waltz.
The next one has five recommenda
tions as a neat and tidy girl, and yet it
isn’t three days before she bakes the
shoe brush with the beef, washes her
hands in a soup tilreen. of drops hair
into the pudding.
I growl about these things after a
while, but I am met with the statement
that they had w >rked five years for
Governor this, or Lord that, and that
in all this time no one has so much as
looked cross eyed at them. lam called
mean, ill-tempered, particular, fault
finding, and all that, and the girl goes
away wondering why the Lord has
spared me as long as He has.
We’ve been wanting “a good, tidy
girl ” for these last twelve years, and I
suppose that we may go another dozen
and still be wanting.
A Negro whe Shivered Plank and Grind
stones with His Head.
One of the “characters” in which our
New England village life abounds has
just passed away at Willir.mstown in
the death of the negro Abram Parsons,
or ‘Abe Bunter,” as he was kuown to
every one acquainted with the town.—
Abe’s popular title was descriptive, and
grew out of L'is ram-like or butting pro
pensities, “butting” being his readiest
and most effective method of defence.—
His thickness of skull, even for one of
his race, was simply astounding. He
would split heavy planks with his head
in the way of business or for the amuse
ment of any one willing to pay a quar
ter for such fun, or would utterly dis
comfit and rout an adversary by launch
ing himself boldly and irresistably at
his stomach. These were his play spells.
The worthies of the village will vouch
for other stories illustrative of Abe’s
more vigorous achievements. They be
guiled him, years ago, into splitting a
small grindstone. He was asked at. one
of the stores if he wanted a cheese
Naturally he did, and they told him it
must be put in a salt sack and ho must
smash it ; so they inserted the stone,
and Abe actually and literally shivered
it, —and let us hope, got his cheese.—
When “Hole's store” was burned some
years ago, and the heavy doo* could not
be broken open, Abe very obligingly
pounded it in with his bead. He was
a kindly, good-natured fellow, had been
born a slave in New York State, and
when freed, much against his will, found
the task of caring for himself and an
ever-growing family a discouraging one.
He was a good laborer when properly
“bossed,” but up to his death repre*
sented well the old-fashioned “ White
Oaks ” shiftlessness, thought latterly he
was brought, with his family, somewhat
under the reforming influences of Prof.
Hopkin’s mission chapel. “Abe Bun
ter ’ will be missed as a member ofthe
"lower facuity” about the college and
by the graduates at the annual com
mencement season.— Springfield (Mass.)
Republican , Feb. 9.
A Cute Little Girl.— A New Hamp
shire newspaper tells about a little six
year old girl in a country town in that
State who went into a store where her
father was lounging the other day, and
slyly approached h’m, said: “Papa,
won’t you buy me anew dress ?” “What,
buy you anew dress. Susy ?” “Yes, pa
pa. won’t you ?” “Well, I’ll see. I’ll
speak to your mother about it,” Elon<
gation to an alarming extent rapidly
spread over the little face, but a thought
suddenly struck her, and with a smile
she looked up into her father’s face
and said : “Well papa, if you do speak
to mamma about it, touch her easy, or
she may want the new dress herself!”
The father at once saw the point, and
the new dress was purchased without
consultation.
Attend to tour olyn Business
and Not to your Neighbors. —liow
many excellent opportunities of letting
alone other people’s business are
slighted ! and the world is troubled with
the interference of people with what
does not concern them. Neighborhoods
are driven crazy by reports of idle of
mischii vous people, who watch for oc
casions of scandal, and lose no opportu
nity of making it public, regardless of
I its truth, or the injury it inflicts upon
! the feelings of others. Gossip passevS
for fact, and surmise for history ; and
the nibbling lie runs many a league
while the truth is putting on its bouts.
ADVERTISING B \TES.
For each square of ten linen orlefii
for the first inSeffiSh, SI, and fof-cach sub*
sequent insertion, fifty fcbhfa.
P*o.Sq'rs 1 1 Mo. j 3 Mos. j t> Mor I 1 year,
two f4:bb~| ~s7.bb 7512.00
Foir •< £(% t 10.00 18.00 86.00
1 ddHiftib 9. 10.00 26.00 40.00
\ “ 16.00 26.00 40.00 05.00
i “ 25.00 40-00 06.00 H6.OQ
PSay* - Ten lines of solid brevier, or itfl
equivalent in space, make a square.
NO. 34.
Rhode Island proposes to have hef
census taken. That’s easy enough —'•
let the people stand up aud be count
ed.
Tobacco chewin'; has one advantage}
especially Whete the man is much iri
the house and spits freely upon the car
pets—those caipets will never be moth
eaten.
And ntfw a French doctor gives hi*
opinion that Indian corn is a cure for
consumption. Reduced to a liquid state
it has long been used as a tonic and ait
appetizer.
A newspaper imp is responsible for
the cure of bed bugs with salt water.—
The water makes the bugs dry, and
while they are off after & oiritl k move
your bed into another room.
A plumber had an Irish boy in his
emph>y, and having occasion to use a
piece of zinc, ordered him to get ono
twelve inches square. “ Yes, sir,” said
Pat, “ twelve inches square, but how
long?”
The Indiana Legislature is petition
ed to pass a law fiiing definitely the
date of “ Ground-hog and iy,” and mak
ing it a public holiday. The subject
ought to be referred to the eomiMitte#
of the hole.
A citizen of Connecticut, receutly
introduced to a newly-mari ied man con
gratulated him warmly, and said :
“ Ah, these Litchfield country girls
make clever wives: I’Ve had ihfe@ of
’em.”
Texas journalism is peculiar in its
phraseology. You are informed, for in
stance, that “ ’I he Sheriff of Brazoria
county is a good fellow whin he isn't
too bra zoo; but yesterday he wnß su
perlatively brazurious.”
Monthly Nurse—“ My dear sir, just
look here,” taking the blanket from ft
fine pair of twins with which the mas=
ter of the house had been presented.—
" Oh, yes,” said the blushing young
husband, “ I suppose I can take my
choice.”
Miss Kellogg is making #2,500 a
week, and doesu’t care for men. She
didn’t come of a very romantic family,
and never could see any poetry in skir*
mishing with a thread and needle around
the ragged edges of a husband’s shift
button-hole.
Baggs got up too early one mornlfig
and began to scold the servant girl.—
His little six year old, who had been
listening attentively daring the conver
satiofi, broke in with : “ Father, stop
scolding; you needn’t think Jane’s
your wife.”
Scene, a court room. Seedy indi
vidual arraigned fof theft. Question
by the Judge—Did you steal the com
plainant’s coat ? Seedy individual—l
decline to gratify the mofbid earlofijty
of the public by answering that inter
rogatory.
A would be school teacher in Toledo,
recently replied to a question by one of
the examiners : “Do you think the
world is round or flat?” by saying :
“ Well, some people think one way and
some another, and I’ll teach tound or
flat just as the parents please.”
The exclamation of an old lady on
hearing of the execution of a man who
had onced lived in the neighborhood,
was : “\\ ell, I knowed he’d come to
the gallows, for the knot in his hand
kerchief was always slipping round un*
der his left ear.”
A Titusville oilman telegraphed! hig
wife from the lower oil regions: “Hava
a surprise for you.” She telegraphed
in reply : “ And I have one for you.”
He came at once and told her He had
struck a thousand barrel well, and she
proudly pointed to the twins in the cra
dle.
“ Give us a Coppcft, yer' honor,” cried
a little street Arab of ten years, recent-*
ly. “Be off with you !” replied the
gentleman ; I have no change.” =
“ Dlease, sir,” continued the urchin in
the same Dasal voice, “do give us a
half penny; I’ve lost half an hour run
ning after yer!”
“ What’s your business V* said the
magistrate of the Police Court, the oth
er morning to a nisoner. “ I’m afi
observationalist, your worship.” “An
observationalist ! What is that?”
“ One who looks around in day time t<r
see what he can steal at night, if it
pleases your worship. ,y
Poetry is spoiled by the addition of a
single word. A young lady, after lis
tening to her lover’s description of the
setting sun, exclaimed, “ Ob, Alphon
so ! Alphonso ! what a soul you have
for art! You were meant for a gTeat
painter. Her father, unexpectedly
close behind, added, “ and glazier.”
“ John, stop yotfr crying,” said aif
enraged father to his son, who had kentf
up an intolerable yell for the last five
minutes. I say, do you hear ? *
again repeated the father after a few
minutes, the boy still crying. “You
don’t suppose I can choke off'in a mil -
ute, do you ?” cried the Urchin.
A Scotch firmer was greatly exer
cised regarding the safety' of his hay
crop. Ihe weather, though often
threatening, favored his efforts till he
succeeded in getting it safely gathered
in, being in this respect more fortunate
than several of bis neighbors. After
seeing the last whisp of straw tied
round his stacks, he exclaimed with a
self-satisfied air, “ Noo, sin’ J hae got
ten my hay a safely in, I think the
warid would bo greatly the better o’ &
guid shower*”