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CALHOUN WEEKLY TIMES. BY D. B. FREEMAN. CALHOUN TIMES Kates of Subscription. One Year $2.00 Six Months i;.i 1.00 Ten copies one year 15.00 Rates of Advertising. For each square of ten lines or less for the first insertion, sl, and for each sub sequent insertion, fifty cents. No.Sq’rs | 1 Mo. | 3 Mofi. | 6 Moe | 1 year Two $4.00 $7.00 ~ I $12.00 $20.00 Four “ 6.00 10.00 | 18.00 35.00 J column 9.00 15;00 I 25.00 40.00 | “ 15.00 26.00 40.00 65.00 1 25.00 40 00 | 66.00 115.00 Ten lines of solid brevier, or its equivalent in space, make a square. Rates of Legal Advertising. Sheriff’s Sales, each levy $4 00 Citation for letters of Administration and Guardianship 4 00 Application for dismission from Admin istration, Guardianship and Exec* utorship 5 00 Application for leave to sell land, one square ;.. 4 00 Each additional square.a;; 2 00 Land Sales, one square 4 00 Each additional square 3 00 Application for Homestead 2 00 Notice to Debtors and Creditors 4 Oo ten*! & U J. KIKEIt St SON, J ’ 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, Ga. Office: Sutheast corner of the Court House, Calhoun, Ga. 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 Courts, at Atlanta. J I>. TINSLEY, ~ Watch-Maker & Jeweler* CALHOUN, GA. All styles of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry neatly repaired and warranted. JjUFE WALDO THORNTON, D. D; S.. • DENTIST. Office over Geo. W. Wells & Co.’s Agricul tural Warehouse. IITISS C. A. HUDGINS, Milliner & Mantiia-Makcr, Court House St., Calhoun,Ga. Patterns of the latest styles and fashion for ladies just received. Gutting and making done to order. j H. ARTHUR DEALER IN GENERAL MERCHANDISE, RAILROAD STREET, Calhoun , Ga. / T. GRAY, Ml • 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.' Call and examine before buying elsewhere. DR. H. K. MAIN, M. D., PRACTICING PHYSICIAN, Having permanently located in Calhoun, offers his professional services to the pub lic. Will attend all calls when not profeS ; eionally engaged. Office at the Calhoun Hotel. J. W. MARSHALL, RAILROAD ST., OLD STAND OF A. W BALLEW. ceps constantly on hand a superior stock of family & Fancy Groceries, klso a fine assortment of Saddles, Bridles, staple Hardware, &c, to which especial at tention is called. Everything in my line told at prices that absolutely defy competi tion. kooks, Stationery and Jewelry. IRWIN & CO. i.irjrJr (Sign of the Dig Book & Watch.) WE sup ly Blank Books, .School Books and btoks of all kinds; also, pens, inks, paper , and everything in in the line Of Stationery, at Atlanta Prices. A good lot of JEWELRY always on hand. Watch. Clock and Gun repairing done Cheaply and warranted. Country produce taken in exchange for goods. IRWIN & CO. BARBER SHOP ! By ESSEX CHOICE. HAVING opened a Barbef- Shop between the Calhoun Hotel and W. & A. Rail road, 1 earnestly solicit the custom of the public,pledging an honest endeavor to mer it the good will of every one. Single shave, 15ets.; hair-cutting, 25cts.; shampooing, 25 eta. Shaving per month— -2 shaves per week, SI.OO, hair-cutting and shampooing included. Other prices low in accordance. july2B tf. Squire Wadlcy 1 Petition tor divorce in vs. I Gordon Superior Court, A nanda Wadley. J September term, 1875. The defendant is hereby notified that the above stated case will be tried at the Sep tember term, 1875, of Gordon Superior Court. HANKS & BIVINGS, Plaintiff’s Attorneys. MAUDE’S FORTUNES. “Now papa,” Maude said,settling the pillows comfortably at the invalid’s back and head, “I will bring you the paper,and you can have an hour of quiet reading while I make a pudding. You like pudding ?’ “Yes, dear; make plenty for me.” There was but little anxiety in the tone of Maude Ilannum’s question, but the quick, cheerful reply banished the shadow from her blue eyes; and kissing her father tenderly, she went to the next room, and was soon singing as she stirred flour and beat eggs for the prom ised pudding. “I am 8o glad papa likes pudding, for meat is so dear,” she thought; but I will have a nice beefsteak when Mrs. Morris pays me. Her dress is just love* ly, now, that it is finished.” For Maude was a dressmaker, and her homo was a floor of three rooms in a tenement, where she paid rent that taxed her sorely, that her father might have the pure air of a good neighbor hood- Less to eat and lesa to wear seemed preferable to a stifling court, or narrow,crowded flat; and so the largest, airiest room was the invalid’s while Maude slept in the hall room adjoining and made a kitchen of the back one. She was about twenty-two, fair and sweet, but not very pretty. In her ex pression, womanly in its earnestness, childlike in its perfect innocence, lay the only real beauty of her face. Her father, for three years a helpless cripple, had been injured by fire, destroying his store and stock of goods, had left him beggared. While she worked in the kitchen, a servant belonging to the house brought a long envelope, directed “John Ilan num,” to the door. “Will you hand this to papa, Janey ; my hands are all covered with dough ?” Maude said, and the girl passed on to the larger room. There was more than an hour’s work to be done before Maude left her pud ding to bake, and went into her father’s room again. “I must go with Mrs, Morris’ dress,” she said, hastily, “for if she is out I cannot get motley !” “Maude!” Her father’s voice was very tremu lous, and as Maude looked at him she saw the traces of deep agitation on his face. Beforo she could speak he said ; “ Please stop, dear, at Dr. Warren’s, and ask him to call as soon as he can.” “ You are worse ? Where? How?” she asked, quickly. “lam no worse, dear, but I have some business calling for immediate at tention, a friend’s help.” “ I will send for him, but—” “ Well, dear ?” “ Can’t I attend to it ?” “No, dear. You do not dislike Dr. Warren, Maude?” A quick flash of color passed over the girl’s face. “ No, papa, but I—we are under ob ligation now—and—” “ Maudie, let the dress go for an hotir. Sit beside me while I tell you a story. Then, if you are unwilling for Dr. Warren to help me, he shall not come. Once upon a time, Maudie, there was a man,who shall be nameless, who was brought up in the hope of in heriting a large fortune from an uncle. He was a dreamy, studious lad, and grew up a dreamy, impractical man. When he was still young he married, and his wife died one year later leaving him a baby girl. Soon after the uncle, from whom he expected the wealth in the future, married, and went abroad, ati old man with a young wife. “ Not unmindful of the hopes he had fostered, he gave his nephew five thou sand dollars, which was invested in a stationer’s stock, and a store opened. But, a3 I have said, the man of whom I speak, had no business talent. He earn ed a livelihood, laying nothing by,mak ing no provision for the future, but Ctiretully cherishing his child. He guarded her as if she would be heiress to millions, having teachers in her own home, servants for the work of a small household, clothing fine and dainty. She grew up gentle, loving, inexpressi bly dear to her father till she was eigh teen. “Remember, Maudie,if this was mis taken tenderness, only love dictated it —only tiue, tender love.” The tone was entreating, but Maude replied by a loving kiss and a mute press ure uf the thin white hand. “She was eighteen, this carefully cherished child, when the fire swept away the store her father had bought gradually in the years of prosperity,and in his effort to save something the fath er himself was hopelesnly crippled for life. When he recovered from a long delirious illness he expected to find his child prostrated and helpless. Darling, he found a woman, self-reliant, helpful, cheerful, where the petted child had beem Friends had helped us at first. Anew humble home was provided, and the daughter learning a trade. There was little money in bank, very little,but it kept away actual hunger until the daughter could work at her new trade. “Maude, I can never tell how that loving father suffered as his tender.pro tecting love was changed to a Wondering respect. Day by day the tender little hands practiced the menial routine of household work, washing, ironing, cook ing, conquering ignorance by patient perseverance, never faltering in their task. The busy needle kept up the ex penses of the small family, if the dear, sweet face ever grew pale and thin it never lost its cheerful courage. Maudie, he was a proud man, this fath er, but for bis child’s sake be conquer ed his pride and wrote to the rich un- CALHOUN, GA., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25, 1875. cle who was the only father he ever knew. He told him of his own cripple, helpless state, of his daughter’s devo tion, and he asked for a little oat of his abundance, for his child’s sake. An answer came from France, not from the uncle but from his wife. Her husband, she wrote, was sick, and she would not allow him to be annoyed by begging letters from poor relations. She had not shown him the letter and would de stroy any further communication. “This hope destroyed,the father pro posed to go to the hospital.” “ Don’t, papa! don’t!” Maude cried. “ Well, dear, let the painful subject pass. You preferred to work twice as hard to keep me away from Such an in stitution and, I yielded. But, Maude, my story is not finished. Among the friends who stood by the ruined,crippled man, was a young physician, who had been his friend when friends were nu merous. It was his care that found the new home, it was his professional skill that soothed many hours of suffering. Unwearied in his devotion he knew there was no reward for him but the prayers and gratitude of father and child. “ In the careless petted days of her girlhood he admired the daughter, had found her gentle and winsome, and had thought of her more frequently than of other women. But he was not a rich man, young yet in his profession, and would not take her from her home to a poorer one, hoping in the future to win money. But when trouble came, when the gentle nature developed into such noble womanhood, the love that had been hidden became stronger,more open in expression. He sought her for a wife, and she gently but firmly refused his offer. She would not burden her lover with the support of a helpless cripple. He pleaded eloquently, he even enlisted her father on his side, but the girl was firm. Maudie, darling,did she love him ?” “ Father, why do you speak of it now ? It has been nearly a year since it was finally settled, and Dr. Warren is our good friend still.” “ Not finally,Maudie There is more of the story yet. But answer me truly, darling. Did you love Herbert War ren, and does he not still love you ? I do not ask from an idle motive, Maude. Last week when he was here, he gave you a letter. Did he renew the suit then ? ” “ I never meant to tell you of it.” Maude said, answering a certain solemn earnestness in her father’s tone ; “but in the letter he told me he had been ap pointed visiting surgeon to one of the city hospitals, and asked me to be his wife again, thinking his increased salary would remove my objection. But.papa, 1 cannot feel that it is right to burden him with our support. So long as I can work for you. You are mine. I owe you years of devoted love, years of tenderness. Can I ever repay the love you gave me from the cradle. Do you think I was too young to appreciate the self-saerifioing devotion of those years, when you were toiling for me. I could give obedience and affection in those childish days, but when the time came that I conld prove my gratitude aod love, it became a holy privilege to re pay, in some measure, the care of years. Do not urge me,father,to give to another what is my dearest work.” “ But, Mande, dearest, if the question of money could be overcome; if your father was no burden upon your hus band, but could bring greater ease and comfort into his life, would you then re fuse him ?” “ Papa, you distress me !” “ Not willingly. Only one question. Answer me truly, my daughter. Do you love Herbert Warfen ? Can you give him that confiding,perfect love that is the only certain hope for married happiness ?” “ I do love him !” That was all, but in the few faltering words the father read only too plainly the certainty he already suspected of the heroic self-sacrifice Maude made for his sake. For a moment there was a deep silence, then taking Maude's hand in his own, Mr. Hannum said : “ The clouds are breaking, Maude. You saw the servant give me a letter this morning ?” “ I thought it was from the land lord.” “It was from a lawyer, my uncle’s lawyer. Take a deep breath, Maudie, and don’t faint, for the days of toil are over. You may wear finer dresses than the one you made for Mrs. Morris ; you may have diamonds if you will, servants to do your work. Ye need no longer eat pudding to save meat, or sew far in to the night with the door closed that I may not see the gas burning, and may think you are asleep. For we are rich Maudie. My uncle’s wife gets on ly one-third of his property, and his will liaves me one hundred thousand dollars, his country seat and his city house, and personal property. He died three months ago, and his lawyers have been seeking me for weeks. But, Maude, somebody must do the out-door bnsiness for me. Somebody must see these lawyers. Somebody must prepare our house for us, send away the tenant and make it home. I want a son Maude. Will you not give me one ?” There was a stir in the ball. A voice of shining insolence asked ; “ Where does the dressmaker live in this house ?” A voice, stern, but manly, answered : “Miss Ilannum lives upon this floor.” And Maude, flushed and trembling, opened the door, to confront Mrs. Mor ris and Dr. Warren. “ Dear me, girl,” the lady ?) said, “ you said you would bring my dress home this morning, and I want it be- fore I leave the city this afternoon. I suppose it is not done ?” “ It is all ready for you to take home,” Maude said. “ Well, take it co the carriage.” “ Allow me !” said Dr. Warren tak ing the parcel from Maude’s hands. “ You will have to wait for your money until I return to the city,” Mrs. Morris said, and was turning away, when Mr. Hannttm’s voice arrested her. “ Madam,” he said with an elaborate courtesy of tone that made it mockery, “ allow my daughter to present to you the last piece of dressmaking I trust she will ever do. It will give you deep pleasure, I am sure, to leafn that this morning she became heiress to a fortune that will raise her entirely above the necessity of work in the future. I have the honor to bid you good morn ing.” Mis. Morris disappeared suddenly, and a moment later and Dr. Warren was in the room pleading : “ Maude 1 Maude ! give me the power to protect you from such inso lence ! ” “ Y"es,” she answered, blushing deep ly, half crying, half laughing. “ I an? a*l yours now, if you will have me.” “ Maude, do you mean it ? Mine ?” “ Papa will tell you all about it. I must run —Stop—notice—my pudding is burning, and Mrs. Morris did not pay me ! ” She ran away, but before evening there was a quiet wedding in the inva lid’s room, for the gentleman insisted that only a son could manage the new ly-acquired foitune, and Maude alone could provide that relation. Giving a Brakeman a Lesson on Style. —The first man was a railroad brakeman, who had been celebrating his grandfather’s birthday. “You run on the cars, eh ?” asked the court. “Yes, sit.” “And you belong to that class jf men who open the door as the train stops at Pontiac and yell out ’Upontyack ! at the passengers ?” The man was silent. “It makes my bones boil when I think of how I’ve been treated on these rail roads.” continued his Honor. “The seats are locked, the water-cooler empty, the windows won’t stay up, and every few minutes you open the door and cry out ‘Jawkun’ for Jackson or ‘KI-a-zoo’ for Kalamazoo. I belive I’ll mark you for six months.” “Please, sir,” protested the prisoner. “I must strike a blow at this great evil somewhere, aud I might as well com mence on you.” “Please, sir, I was never here before, and it’s my first drunk in four years.” His Honor leaned back and chewed the corner of a blotting-pad while he re flected. Finally, he said : “Well, I’ll let you go, though I’ll be blamed for it. Now, sir, after this you want to adopt a different style. When the train approaches a station you want to go through the car like a cat, smile gently, and say in quiet tones : ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this train is now on the outskirts of the beautiful city of Ypsi lanti, and such of you as desire to step off will please make ready, and may health and prosperity ever attend you.’ What an innovation that would be sir ! How the traveling public would rush for your road ! Will you do this, Mr. Wel lington ?” The prisoner promised, and was air lowed to go.— Detroit Free Press. The Strenght of the C hurches The information contained in the fol lowing statistic is rare dnd valuab'e. It shows the strenght of the Churches in America and under the control of Amer icans, for the year 1874 : The Protes tant Episcopal Church has 3,040 cler gymen, 2,750 parishes, and 273,554 communicants. The Roman Catholic Church has 4,873 priests, 4,731 chur ches, 1,902 chapels and stations, and 5,761,242 Cftholic population. The Baptist Church has 943 associations,and 21,510 churches, 13,355 ordained minis ters, and 1,761,171 members. The Church of the United Brethren has 3,- 959 churches, 1,886 ministers, and 131,- 895 members. The Unsversalist Church has 624 churches, 674 ministers, and 30,905 members. The Congregational Church has 3,404 churches, 3,278 min isters, and 330,391 members. The re turns of the annual conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States show that there are now in that church 10,854 traveling preach ers, an increase of 283 over the last year 12.481 local preachers, an increase of 320; 18’728 Sunday schools, with 200, 484 teachers and 1,383,876 scholars. The number of members is 1,553,522, an increase over the last year of 99,494. The church property is valued at 569,- 88,8152, an increase of nearly $13,060,- 000 over the value of property last year. The contributions to the Missionary Society .were $611,954, a decrease of 860,996. “On, yes, gimme ten cents worth of hair pins,” added up river farmer, as he was about to leave a store, and, while they were being handed down,.he con tinued : “ It’s hair pins to-day and rib bons to-morrow and a tooth brush next day. The gals is always wanting some flim-flam thing, and I shouldn’t be sur prised if she’d some day get up and want me to bring home one of them combs with a brass back.” A lazy falling fifty feet and escaping with only a few i scratchses a by-stander remarked that “he was too slow to fall fast enough to hurt himself.” Preparations for Marketing the Immense Peach Crop. The prospect of a crop of eight or ten millions of baskets of peaches from the Delaware and Maryland peninsula has stimulated the peach growers to find markets for this vast product. It has been settled that a fruit train will bo dispatched every day over the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad o the cities of the West as far as Cincinnati, Indianapolis and-Ohicago, Contracts have been made for 1,150 cars for the shipment of the fruit to New York City and Eastern cities, and there is besides a likelihood that the American Steamship Company of Philadelphia will fit up tpeir vessels with refrigerators for anew peach trade with Liverpool. It is thought that 25,- 000 to 30,000 baskets of peaches may be transported each trip on these vessels, and that the venture will pay. Middle town, Delaware, will be the great col lecting and distributing point, where an inmense cooling establishment has been erected to secure favorable and uniform temperature for temporary storage of fruit awaiting transportation. All the Chesapeake bay landings will also be collecting points for the eastern shore of Maryland for the bay and river stea mers to Baltimore, by which hundreds of crates and baskets of fruit will come to this market for packing or distribu tion. The energy of peach growers in finding markets for their perishable crop, uti’izing all the modern modes of quick transportation to distant points, will be of immense benefit to the section they represent, which is no doubt the greatest peach orchard of the world. The fuirt is earlier and better than the Jersey fruit, and therefore has more i money in it. Heretofore the shipments have always been large to New York and Baltimore for consumption and can ] ning, but there have never been before ( in the history of the trade such indica- . tions.of an immense and widespread en terprise and adequate remuneration as ( at present. —Baltimore Sun. Heroic Act of a Clergyman. North Mountain is a quiet hillside resort on a branch road from Wilks barre, Pa. Adjacent to the hotel are mines and shafts. In anew one of the latter which was being sunk the flow of water at eighty feet was so plentiful as to compel its temporary abandonment. A few days ago the “ boss ” descended the shaft to examine the condition. He was lowered fifty feet when the sud den slacking of the rope showed that the captain must have fallen from the basket. It was clear that he had been overcome by the ga3, and, if he had not been already killed by the fall, that he would soon die from drowning or suffo cation. The group of guests were of of course horror stricken, and urged the unfortunate boss’s gang—numbering many men-to go to his rescue, but they peremptorily refused to take the risk. Their cowardice so disgusted the Rev. Walter Q. Scott, late professor at Lafay ette Collage, Easton, and present pas tor of the Presbyterian Church, Tenth and Arch streets. Philadelphia, that he plunged into the bucket and insist ed upon being quickly lowered to the of scene peril. He was reluctantly let down, and in a very short time signal led to the alert and anxious hearts at the windlass to hoist away.’ This was done with a hearty will, and the added aweight told them that the impulsive fund dangerous exploit had not been futile. On reaching the surface Mr. Scott fainted from the great stress that be had undergone, and his rescued bur den was a wet. limp, senseless mass, Mr. Scott said that the gaswas overpowering, and that he was cautious to inhale as littl as possible. He found the victim un der water, and as he was a man weigh ing about 200 pounds, it taxed his strength to lug him into the bucket, and when he had himself climed in and had given the signal to the hoist, he was in a stupor, and recollected no more until he revived among his friends. He was entirely recovored, and not being of a nervons tamperament, he experienced no unpleasant effects.” —Philadelphia Times. The Prize Ox Ode. All hale ! thou mity annimal-a’l hale ! Yu are 4 thousands pounds, and am purtv well perporshund, thou termenjous nuggit! I wunder how big yu wos when yuwos little, and if yur muther wud know yu now that yu have grone so long, and thick, and phat; or if yur father wud recogniz in yu his off spring and his kaff, thou elefanteen quodruped ! I wun der if it hurts yu much to be so big, and if yu grode it in a munth or so. I sup pose wen yu wos yung they didn’t gin yu skim milk, but all the kreem yu kud stuff intu yur little inside, jest tu see how big yud gro; and afterwords they no dout fed you on otes, and ha, and sich like. In all probability yu don’t no yur enny bigger than a small kaff; for if yu did yude brake down fenses, and switch yur tale and rush aronnd, and beller, and run over fokes, thou owful beest !*O, what a lot ov mince pize yud maik, and sassingers ! and yur tale, which kan’t wa fur frum phorty pounds, wud maik nigh unto a barri! of ox tale soop ; and cudn’t a beep of stakes be cut oph of you, which with Solt and pepar, wudn’t be bad to taik. Thou grate and glorious inseckt! But I must klose, O, most prodijus reptile ! And for my admirashum of yu, when yu bi, ile rite a note unto ynr peddygree and az I don’t expeckt to have ha*ff a dollar agin tu spair for tu pa tu look at yu, I will sa fairwel,and bring my howed to a bend. “WHAT did yo u hang that cat for Isaac ?” asked the schoool uiarm. The boy looked up, and, with a grave look, nswered: “For mewtiuy, marm !” John Todd's Reformation. It not unfrequently happens that when prayers, and entreaties, and shame, suffering and degradation, have failed to check a man in his down hill course, some incident seemingly changes the whole Current of his life. I have such an incident in mind. You may know my hero as John Todd. A few yet living will know him by another name. John Todd had sunk very low. Once he had been gay, handsome and happy. When he made Mary Somers his wife, there was not a young man in our vil lage whose prospects seemed brighter. But the demon of drink seized him. It was a gradual going dowrt. \Vife and children were neglected ; true friends were forsaken; the low and the debased were his chosen companions, and poverty and want fell Upon his ohee happy household. For months and years his friends tided to save John Todd. They expos tulated, they prayed, they begged, they reasoned, but all to no avail; and at length they gave it up. One night, quivering and shaking, with not a penny in his pocket, John Todd entered his dilapidated home and asked his wife for liquor. She told him there was not a drop in the house. He cursed her savagely, and then com menced a search, professing to believe that she had liquor hidden away some where. At length away back on one of the shelves of locker over the fire place, he found a bottle,the contents of which smelled like rum. As he raised it to his lips, his wife, who had been watching him, sprang forward and dashed the bottle from his hand, shivering it upon the hearth. With a fierce oath John Todd smote his wife to the floor, supine upon the broken glass, and then staggered away to his bed. He would not go out again for he had no money. On the following morning his oldest child, a girl of twelve years, came to his bedside. “0, papa, do you know What you did last night?” He had a dim recol* lection, but made no reply. “ You knocked Mama down and cut her badly.” “ Aye, child, she—she—” “ She saved your life, papa That was poison in the bottle you were bold ing to your lips—a most dreadful pois on!” “ Poison, child ?” “Yes, don’t you know what grand ma sent over for mamma to kill bugs with ? It Wa3 corrossive sublimate and alchohol.” John Todd sank back upon his pil low, and did not get up until noon. When he arose he was very weak and tremulous. He dressed himself and went out into the kitchen,where he saw his wife standing by the fire place with a napkin about her head. lie went to her side and laid his hand upon her shoulder. She turned and looked into his face, but he did not speak* He only kissed her, and then went out. Only kissed her! what did it mean? Mary Todd caught her hand over her heart to crush back the sudden, surging hope. It were sadness to hope now. And Jet, with the impress of a kiss up on her cheek, and with the memory of the look that had occompanied it, she sack upon her knees and wept and prayed. John Todd went away into the woods, where he wandered UDtil nightfall, and with the last gleam of the setting sun he was upon his knees, his palsied hands reverently folded, speaking a vow to heaven that his home should once more be happy if he colild make it so. Out of the darkness of desolation, even in the midst of ruin, comes the an gel of hope and promise to the stricken home. Mary heard, and saw, and took heart, and gave her smile and blessing to the work. That was twenty years ago. John Todd has kept the faith from that day to this. He is beloved, respected and honored wherever he is known ; and a happier woman than his wife is not to be found anywhere. — ♦ A Colored Martyr. “Disturbing the peace,” said his ho n or, as Samuel, colored, stood on the line. “Sturbing the peace, eh ?” “Yes, sir; you are charged with throwing a stone through a saloon win dow.” “ Frowing a stone, eh ?” “Yes, sir; throwing a stone, then running away.” “ Runnin’ away, eb ?” “ Yes, sir ; what have you got to say for yourself?” “ Dey say I frowed a stone, eh ?” “ Yes, sir.” “ And dat I runned away ?” “ Yes, sir.” “ And dat I was cotched ?” “ Yes, sir.” “ And dat I was fetched here ?” “Yes, sir; do you plead guilty or not guilty ?” The prisoner buttoned up his coat, shifted round to face the audience, and then stretched out his arms and de manded ! “ Wbar’s de man who sajed dat I frowed a stone ?” No answer. “Whar’s de accuser ?” Painful silence. The accuser bad failed to put in an appearance, and the prisoner was dis charged. He left the court room with a dignified step, and as a crowd assem bled round him at the door he was heard saying ; “ ’Sposen I hadn't stood up dar and made dem speeches ! Whar would Ibe now ?” VOL. VI.— ISO. 5. The Story ol" an Arab. Ihe story of a Cincinnati newsboy who found a pocketbook containing orte thousand dollars and returned it to the owner with contents intact, reached 1 hiladelphia in good season, and was productive of considcfdble of a sensatiori among the street Alans. One boy wad so affected by it that he straightway de termined to see that Cincinnati boy, and go him seventeen or eighteen better. e , to °k ahother small boy into his con fidence, and the test of probity of char acter was carried into effect. Boy No. 3 dropped a well-padded pocketbook; which, boy No. 1, following close be hind, picked up. Then with alook on his face tliat wonit} have done honor to Benjamin Frank lin, the honest little fellow walked up td an old gcntleffiaq tfho was passing by, extended the pocketbook, and with trem bling vbi’ce exclaimed, “Take it sir. If, is yours. You dropped it just now; My mother and seven little brothers are starving, but I cannot keep it, sir, for it don’t belong to me.” The old gentle man looked at the boy then pulled ou" his spectacles and adjusted them for a better sight, lie could not sufficiently admire the wan visage of that little street wanderer illuminated, as it was with a glow of goodness and honest^. He patted the Doy on the head, and pulling out a five dollar bill from his vest pocket, handed it to him, saying, “I>oy you will grow to be a great mari. Take this money for your starving family, and always remember that “hon estv is the best policy.” Then the old gentleman skurried into thenearest la ger beer saloon, and opened his pocket book. Then he began to dance around and call on heaven and earth to witness that if ever he encountered that boy again he would flay him alive An* he continued to orate until a policeman was called in to arrest him as a lunatic, and the only excuse he could give for his conduct was that a small boy had robbed him of five dollars by giving him a pocketbook stuffed with old paper. - Three Utile Children Killed at Once. A remarkable incident occurred neat' A iioqua, a few days ago in a family whose namo my informant could not remember. There were three kittle chil dren, the oldest was five years, tWd whom went to tho barn to find hens' nests. r lhcy found one, and crawled to it and one of them thrust his hand for ward to get the eggs, when he quickly withdrew it, saying the old heh had bitten him. r J he other said he wasn’t afraid, and thrust his hand forward, when he too was bitten. Both then screamed, whieh quickly brought their mother to the spot, when it Was disCoV ed that they had beeCn struck by a rattlesnake coiled in tho nest. The mother seized the little boys in her arms and hastened to the house, where anew * horror met her gaze. In her haste to secure the boys at the barn she had set down a boiler of hot water, into which the babe had fallen. In thirty minutes all her children were dead.— Dcs Moines Cor. Chicago Tribune. A Sad Blow. —A Vicksburger who prides himself on his Choice language was over in Louisiana the other day on business, and stopping at a farm house to get adritik of water, the womad re~ maiked that the crops stood in great need of rain. “Yes rain is the great desideratum,” he replied, as he handed the tin dipper back. “ Mary ! Mary !” yelled the woman, in loud tones. A wbite-.-headed girl of sixteen catno out of the back room in response to the call, and the mother continued : “Take a sqnar view of him, Mary ! He don t look as if he knew enongh to plow cottoD, and yet he just got off a word as long as from here to the mule pen and back, and he may be boldin' on to more !” 'I lie \ icksburger walked right away from there.— Vicksburg Herald. Sandy and His Steed. In Scottlabd they have narrow open ditches, 'jHiich they call sheep drains. A man was riding a donkey ofle day s cross a sheep pasture, but when the an imal came to the sheep drain he would not go over it. So the man rode back a short distance, turning him around ap plied the whip, thinking, of course that the donkey, when going at the top of speed, would jump the drain before he knew it. But not so. When the donk ey got to the drain he stopped all of a sudpefi, and the man went over Mr Ned dy’s head. No sooner had he touched the ground than he got up, and looking his beast straght in the face,said, “Ver ra weel piched; blit hob are ye wing to get ower yersel ?” ■ >• —- “Josiiua,” said a Yankee mother to her hopeful at breakfast, “what’s an heir-apparent V* * “There’s one on the butter, mother,” replied the unfilial youngster. And thn old lady “lit” upon him with the coffee pot. The politest gentleman we ever sa\v ; was a rural friend of ours, who, on pas sing a setting hen said Don’t rise madam. Ti is stated that within two years worth of sheep have been kil led by dogs in Kentucky. - -4 Sweets in adversity— A sugar houso failure. How ro become puffed up—swallow a pint of yeast.