Newspaper Page Text
??==? " - ? ? -:- ' ' .... ..... ;t ./rm^
FIRST O?E HOMES; THEN OTTR STATE; EIN ALLY THE NATION; THESE CONSTITUTE OUR ?OUNTRYv-? VOLUME 1. SATURDAY MORNING, AUGUST 3, 1867. NUMBER 24 THE ORANGEBURG NEWS. PUBLISHED AT ORANGEBURG, C. S ? i ? ? ? ? f?il i Every Saturday Morning. iu\l ?:o:? SAMUEL DIBBLE, Editor. CHARLES IL HALL, Publisher. ?:o:? TERMS OP SUBSCRIPTION. ? ^One-Copy for one year. $2.00 ?? " 'J Six Months........ 1.00 " " il Three ". CO Any one making up a CLUB of FIVE ANNUAL ^SUBSCRIBERS will receive an extra copy FREE OF CHARGE. ?:o:? RATES OF ADVERTISING. 1 Square 1st Insertion. $1.50 ** " 2d ". 75 A Square consists of 10 lines Brevier or one bieh Hof Advertising spaco. : Contract Advertisements inserted upon the most liberal torms. ?:o:? ; MARRIAGE and FUNERAL NOTICES, not ex ceeding one Square, inserted without charge. ??r Terms Cash in Advance. ~t9fl ?:o:? 'is For further particulars, apply to Mn. CitAni.Ks II. Hall, or'address SAMUEL DIBBLE, Enrrou Oi(ANai:nri>n Nkws. i<? it' ? i. Orangebnrg, 8. (\ ! feh 23 o ly PUBLIC OFFICERS. ORANGEBUHO DISTRICT. Ohiunauy?P. A. Me Michael. Commihsiokkii in Eqi-itv?v. i). V. Jamison. ri.kbk or OoniT'?Joseph F. Kohiiison. SiiKRirr?J. W. II. Dukes. Conoxtit?C. B. Glover. I ,f>.. . ?>??? TAX.Cor.i.r.CTo^s.?Orange Pni ish.?P. W. Fojry. St. Mnt'thewB Parish.?W.' It. Danhder.' Asst. Assessor. U. S. Uevkm'k.?George W. Sturgeon. A?kxt fob Stamps, &o;?P. V. Dihble. Magistrates?Thomas P. Stokes, \v. It. Trcad woll, A. J. Gaskins, F. W. Fniry, David L. Connor. J. II. Felder, Levin Argoe, lt. v. Dannelly, E. A. Price. >y. is. Ehncy, J. D. Pricket, Samuel k! Moor. ?r, c. B. Glover, k. c. Holman, P. c. Buyck, f. M. Wannnmaker, D. 0. Tindall. commissioners TO AlM'eovk SECURITIES?J. G. Wannamaker, James Stokes, D. It. Barton, Adnm Smoke, A. D. Frederick. Commissioners or Pcuuu Bi tl.Dl.Nori? Win. M. Kulflon, Harpin twg^j ?? Ezekiel, Joseph V. Hur ley, F. II. W. Briggmann. Commissioners or Roads?Orange Parish?Wcflt lcy Houscr, F. W. Fairy, 8amuel M. Fairy, Samuel O. Fair, P. Livingston, W. 8. Ttiley, Wostlcy Culler, |I. C. Wnnnnniokcr, N. E. W. Sistrunk, 11. Living ston, James Stokes, J. D. Knotts, R. P. Autley, John S. Bowman, J. L. Moorcr, W. ?J. Moss, Lewis Ga rfek, B. A. Yon, J. II. O'Cain, Ellison Connor, John Brodie, J. G.' Guignard, Jacob Cooner, George Byrd, J. T. Jennings, David Dannelly. Commissiokkusop Roads?St. Matthews Parish? C. S. Darby, W. C. Hanc, M. K. Holman, Andrew 'Houser, J. A. Parlour, E. T. Shular, J. L. Parlour, Owen Shulnr, T. G. Shular, W. L. Pou, J. W. Sel lers, R. W. Bates, J. W. Borbor.i', Augustus Avin ger, P. W. Avinger, J. D. Zciglor, M. J. Keller, J. C. Hohnnu, Commissioners or Frkk Scuoolb?Orange Parish , PaTtd 1^ Connor, J, R. Millions, Henry N. Snell, p. John Jordan, N. C. Whetstone, John Iuabinet, Dr. O.' N. Bowman, Samuel Dibble. . Commissioners of Fit er School*?St. Matthews Parish?Peter Buyck, J. H. Keller, West ley Houscr, John RiloyJ J. II. Felder, Adam Holman. Olf'l! ?? t, , Commissioners or tiik Poon.?Orange Parish.? W, R. Trcadwcll, John Grambling, W. II. Izlar, J. B. Morro\V, S. B. Sawyer. Post Offices in Orangebnrg District. nn?'ibt in . ? ? offices. postmasters. Orangebnrg.Thaddens C. Hubbell. ' St. Matthews.Mrs. Sally J. Wiles. Vance's Ferry.R. M. E. Avinger. Branchville.Mrs. Amy Thompson. 'Fort Motto.John Biruhmore. .,!. ? .1.-1 UL_ il. 11.. ....IS.. ? T>..!1 "1>-.1 ntfllCtiuiu nuni ii i hi uiniii n?u Aiuuu. Down Passenger. Leave Columbia at. 6.30 A. M. ? Orangebnrg at. 10.80 A. M. Arrive at Charleston. d P? M. " " Augusta. ? P. M. L'p Passenger. Leave Augusta nt.,. 7 A. M. M Charleston at.?. 8 A. M. *' Orangebnrg at. 1.30 P.M. Arrive at Columbia at. 6.20 P. M. Down Freight. Leave Orangebnrg at.10 A. M. Arrive at Charleston at. ?.10P. M. l'p Freight. Leave Orangebnrg at.1.88 P. M. Arrive at Columbia at.,..,.,..,,.,(?,30 P. M mar 23 g tc poetry. Married. Our beautiful Maggie was married to-day? Beautiful Maggie, With ?oft, brown hair, WIiobc shadows fall o'er a face as fair As the snowny blooms of the early May ; Wo have kissed her lips and sent tier uway, I With many a blessing and many a prayer, The pet of our house who was married to-day. The sunshine is gone from tho old South Room, Where she sat through the long, bright summer hours; And the ordor is gone from the window flowers, And something is lust of their delicate bloom, And a shadow creeps over the house with its gloom; A shadow that over our Paradise lowers, For we see her no more in the old South Houm. I thought that the song of the robin, this eve, As he sang to Iiis mute on the sycamore tree, Had minors of sadness to temper its glee, As if he for the loss of our darling did grieve, And asked, "Where is Maggie ?" and, "Why did she leave ? "The maiden who carolled sweet ducts with inc?" For she mocked not the song of the robin this eve. The pictures Bcem dim where they hangen the wall; Though they cost but a trifle they always looked fair, Whether lamplight or sunlight illumined them thorc? I think 'twas her presence that brightened I hall all; Since Maggie no longer can come to our call, With her eyes full of laughter, unshadowed by care, The pictures seem dim where they hang on the wall. 1 lounge through the garden?I stand by the gate? She stood there to greet mo hist eve, at this hour. Every eve, through the Hummer, in sunshine or shower, Just stood by fho postern my coming to wait, Dear Maggie, her heart with its welcome elate, To give me a smile, and a kiss, and a tlowcr? Ah! when will she greet me again by the gate? Sho loved us and left us?she loves, and is gone With the one she loves best, as his beautiful bride! How fondly he called her his joy and his pride. Our joy ami our pride, whom he claims as his own ! lint can lie, like us, prize the heart lie has won? The heart that now trustingly throbs by his side God kjauwH !?and we know that?she hives and is Cite r ar y. [run the oitANtimirnu nkws.] Whiffs nutl Whims. J/fusions?life abounds with them ; they dodge us daily amid our happiest hours. Thoy hover over our future, and beckon us on, allur ing to distant joys, which dimly scon, arc all as bright, as we can dare believe. Illusions fan the brow of the sick man, and give promise of coming health or stronger pulsations. Thoy glide before the weary student, und bis lan guor Ji?gers not amitj the vivid pictures of future uf?fuiucw and public appreciation. Thoy come to tho faint-hearted, tho neglected and the lonely, "Aud Fancy's flash and Reason's ray, Will gild and light their troubled way." What a beautiful picture was Ella Gregory, us she sat on tbc front gallery, watching the clouds and "living o'er the past." Her hazlc eyes darkened by emotion, were dimmed with unshed tears. Just eight years ago, when site was seven years old,' her fulhur and mother had removed from tho beautiful cottago of her baby days. They thought the change best for the education and advantage of their children, of whom, God had given them three, to live for, and to love. "The happy, happy hours of childhood How soon, how soon they pass away ; Like flowers, like flowers in the wild wood That bloom and Tide away." So thought Elln. Thoy had just removed to their new, but pretty home, when Papa had a hemorrhage, nud was scut to travel. Then his absence seemed so long; but ho returned,? came back to die. She thought too, of her ti'iguish at his grave j where she prayed, "Oh God, let me rest beside my darling lather j let me lovo him in tbc grave." How she clung to his coffin when in that strange "God's acre," they left her hearts' best idol. Then bow her mother, faiut at hope's departure, took u fever? it citn scarce be true, but she felt it all. In three days she. had neither father or mother. With hor brothers, nged ten nud thirteen,? she was bereft?unknowing, and adrift. "The cliurcii-ynrd had an added stone And heaven two spirits more," Had grieved those orphans sad and lone, Love's brightest days were o'er. The pathetic circumstances reached tho car of hor present protector, a wealthy lady, who desired her childless home to be gladdened by a youthful presence. She thought that tho sympathy which first moved her, would beget affection, and that on the part of Ella, grati tude would lead to love. Years had passed; nud Ella, (though bent on yielding implicitly to the wishes of her friend,) failed in tho one point, that constituted the contrast in their characters. Mrs. 0. was conservative and ambitious; Elln, with more genial home friends, would have been demonstrative and fond. She loved to bo loved. Her schoolmates felt tho influ ence of her bland manner, and bailed her coiniug with pleasure. Yet this unrestrained intercourse was prejudicial to the growth of affection iu Mrs. G., who attributed it to plebe ian origin, or a lack of innate refinement, whereby the initiated could select an eligible coterie, and by the same instinct, viz: false pride?could avoid any, who would not be ad vantageous companions. Thus have I given the principle barrier to that happy trust and, love which had other wise existed between Ella and Mrs. G, Trifles, lighter are levers in the building up of charac ter. The influence of the above suggestions, oft repeated to Ella, had warped her confidence in Mrs. (J.'s sincerity. She was thankful for repeated kindness, and tried to respond to Mrs. G.'s wishes; but it was with more of apprehen sion than confidence. Nature would assert its sway, and tho girls genial naivete reppatcdly prevailed. '?() how great is human frailty which is always prone to evil. Now tfiou art purposed to look well unto thy ways. and.with in awhile; thou so behavest thyself, as.thouglr thou hadst never any such purpose at jfll." Mrs. G.'s experiment was a failure. She had hoped to gratify her ambition, while comforting the orphan, but. not succeeding iii huT plans," she became cSptiuus and blunt. '-Why^art thou troubled when things succeed nut as thou desirest ? For, who is he thatjmfh^ilhjlihiuga. according to his mind? Neither I, nor thou, nor any man on earth. Miserable thou art. whoever thou be, or whithcrcvcr thou turnest, unless thou turn thyself to God." Life's hap piest phases, arc brightest in perspective. Our loves, our joys and hopes; All, all like shooting utar, .lust gleam,?then dart IVoin sight afar. Thus, thought Ellie, po.pl think me very happy. They know not that I weary of the mock tones of parlor manners. 1 feel that there is but little truth iu the social compliments, which to others' cars are harmonious! A lew friends and faithful servants lived about her. but there was no longer one kindred spirit up on oarth to whom snc was life's first care?its first object of affection. "AM the world's a stage," and she had seen the by-plays. How much happier were earth, if young spirits were taught, nud older spirits trained themselves to an unselfish participation in the feelings of others- How few understand this work of un selfish charity, it may cost us but a moment's thoughtfulncss, but its effects arc often of un measured duration. Did such mottoes bias so ciety, This world were not a fleeting show, For man's illusion given, Then he who soothed the widow's wo Or wiped the orphan's tear, would know There's something here of heaven. Daisy Dale. Fair Yikw. SELECTED STORY. Tho Tar's licveiige; OR THE HAUISTTISO SI-II I \ '?Conic Ben, spin us a yarn lo night. The ocean is thundering oh the shore, and tho wind is howling over our beads as you must haVo heard it through tin: fails id' the ship when your home was on the treacherous waters. We are safe and snug to-night; ami the wind and rain cannot reach us. !t is just the night for a story, and 1 know you have one laid up that will come in bandy on this occasion." Old Hen Hardy to whom I had addressed these words, had been a sailor for many years ; but. when he grew old, be left the sea which had been his home for so many years, and with the money that, unlike most sailors, be bad managed to save, bought him a cottage a little way out of the village, ami here with his old woman he lived in pcact! ami contentment, un til the lime should come for him to be done with the storms aud breakers of this world, and be ready to sail into the smooth harbor of tho next. His cottage was quite near where I resided, and many were the evenings I speut with him listening to his wild, weird tales of the sea, and I used to think he kept his best ones for stormy nights; perhaps he told them better as the howling of the wind stirred his blood, and brought back vividly the days when his home was on the waters. To-night I had come over with the roar of the sea in my cars, and my eyes filled with the rain and blinding sprnj', and when comfortably seated at his fireside I said what is recorded at the head of this story. Old Hen took a monstrous quid of tobacco from his cheek, looked thoughtfully into the fire for a few moments, as if he saw there some thing of the past, or else he was listening to the wild tumult of the elements without, and then he said without looking up: "Yes, it docs remind me of the time when T hardly set foot upon the land figbm one year's end to another; and the storm also brings to mind the cruise I once made in a haunted ship, and it was just such a night as this that the ghost was laid, and we were free from the worst tyrant that ever cussed a crew." "Tell iis the story, Ben. A haunted ship is just the thing lor to-night." "Well, I may as well tell that as anything else. Draw up closer to the cabin-lire; it is cold to-night, and toll us what winter has in store for us. Well, one time?it was nigh thirty year ago, now?1 was down sick with the fever here ou shore, and everybody said I would die ; and to me it seemed that my log had almost come to an end, and there would need to be but one more entry made therein. Davy Jones, who had been after my life for so many years, seemed likely to be cheated after all, and 1 be laid beside my lather and mother in the churchyard. But my time had not come then, after awhile I began to mend and was soon upon my feet agaiu. '.'Now uiy being sick has nothing to do with my yarn, only my ship that I had sailed in so long went away and left me, and 1 had now to look for another. And I had little time to do it in. for iny money was all gone, and it would not do for me to be particular. I must take the first chance that offered, so tliat the old women and the children might not want for bread. "It was past the scasou for vessels to go from mir port, so uiy only chance was that some one would put in short of hands; and it was not long before one did so. and .Jack Kolsom and I shipped in her. "We were, the only two the captain could get from our port though he was in want of at least a dozen men. How he came to go to sea so short-handed, we could not find out while the ship remained in port, 'jut we knew soon enough after she left. "The Flying Mitt hailed from a northern port, and was bound round the Horn on a trad ing trip to some of the South American ports. We were to he gone ten mouths, and the cap tain promipen that at the end of that time ho would lcavo us at home. Perhaps he would had he lived, but when tho Flying Mutt came north again, Davy Jones had him safe in his locker, and he claimed him none too soon, either. "Jack and 1 bade our friends good-bye, and the ship stood down the harbor, and soon the town and laud faded from our view, aud we be gan to see what sort of companions we had for the voyage. Such a strange, mixed crew, I never saw before. They were of all colors and all nations, and spoke all languages under the sun ; in the whole crew of forty men, there was not more than half a dozen of our countrymen; and only one, old Sam Mauline by name, that came from our country. He was almost the fust one we met on coining aboard, and I imagined 1 saw a look of pity in his eye as he saw us; we did not understand it then, hut we did afterwards. '?We had not been two days at sea, before wo found out that the captain was a tyrant of the worst description. He would, without any pretext, swear at the men, using the most ter rible oaths, aud upon the slightest provocation he would have the men tied up and flogged in tho most cruel manner. He seemed to delight in cruelty, and 1 could also see that he drank j hard ; yet drink as much as he would, it never seemed to have the effect of rendering him helpless, as it does some men ; on the contra ry, it made him as strong as a fiend, with a temper equal to Satan himself. "We knew now why it was that he was short of men, and those he had were of all descrip tion under the sun. No man that knew him would ship with him ; ond I wondered how it was that old Sam Marline?as good a seaman as ever spliced a rope?came to be with him, and had stuck by the ship for three trips. He told mo afterwards that he thought it his duty; and he did seem to have some little influence with the captain?more than did his first mate, who was a t|uict, inoffensive man. completely under the tuinb of* the captain, and who dared nut say or do anything without ike captaiu's permission. He wna a good sailor, and thd captain knew thin, and that the ship was safe in his hands, when he himself was not in a condition to superintend matters. ?'Hardly a day passd over our heads that did not witness some outrage on tho part of the monster who had command over us. It was nothing strange for him to come on deck, and without the slightest provocation strike down the first man that did not move fust enough to suit him in executing sonio order, perhaps of little accouut. He would be so full of rage and liquor, that he was almost a madman ; and many were the times that Jack and I wished ourselves well out of the ship. As yet we had been unmolested j but we expected our turn would conic soon. "More than once, shipmate, mj bluod would rise, and one day I said the crew ought to take the management of tho ship into their own hands. It would be mutiny, I kuow, but I thought that we should bo justified in doiug so. I was saying this to Jack, and unpcrccivcd old Sam Marline had conic up and overheard me. " 'Shipmates,' he said, laying a hand on each of our shoulders, 'it is well for you that no body but me heard that remark of yours, or it might have found its way to the captain's ears, ('apt. Sampson ia master here, and wc must obey him. This makes four voyages that I have been with him, nud as yet ho has never laid his hand upon me, and 1 hopo I have saved many of the crew from his hands. But, shipmate, this is the last voj-agc that I'll ever make with him, and I ask you to bear with him until we reach home again. Do not bring yourself into danger. Your life would be worth uothiug if he knew the words you have just spoken." "We knew that old Sam was right, so wo gave him our hand on it j but I don't think ho would have required it, could he have foreseen what a day- would bring forth. [Concluded ill our Ac.i.7.] VARIOUS. Loyal League Mummeries. Mr. Win. Driver, exposes in the Nashville Banner, the foolish niuuuneoius of tlm Loyal Leagues now so numerous in the South. The following extracts show the ahmxn-l absurdity of these money-making combinations: At the first door you give two light taps aixr ' whisper through n hole therein, "Loyal Men." The door opens. You move on to a second door and give two taps. A loop hole is opened. You whisper "Must rule," and are then march ed around a darkened room and welcomed b}r the "Good Chairman," iu the following words ?"The good and true are always iTcleome," &e. You have now marched round the room and arc placed before an altar on which is spread the American flag. Here also lies open a Bi ble and a book with the old, original, unaltered Constitution of the United States, gift of our ttithers, as it was, is and ever should be?un changed. There, too, lie crossed two common swords such as are worn by army surgeons. Between the points a mysterious bronze chalice filled with something, tho smell of which reminds you of "Old Robertson." On your right, at a small altar, stands long, lank, lean "Forty Acres j" behind you, at an other desk or alter, stunde a once Provost Marshal. Aronnd this long, dark, dirty room, the "Loyal Leagurers," somo black and some white, and among them some of our most worthy citizens. There are also a few whoso "cop pers" sticks out through the white wash given by this "Loyal League." . The gas is now darkened, and "Forty Acres," with eyes upturned like a "duck in a thunder storm," his lean bauds opened out toward Heaven, mumbles out n prayer! This dono, tbc jolly, good naturcd, kind looking Miller, not "of Mansfield," though quite as portly, steps forward with book and watch in hand, and fires the mysterious looking cup, which darts up a flickering blue flame, such as is re presented as burning in the "Eternal Hades." With your right hand on the book, and tho left in the air, you now take the "oath of alle giance," known to all, ami are most particular ly required "to defend tho Constitution of the United States" (unaltered), on which your baud rests, and the Constitution of the State of Tennessee. What is the latter constitution? Who can tell? You are also sworn to keep tl.o secrets of the League, "to vote for none but loyal men," kv. In that long, dark, dirty room, on the the right side of which stood about one hun dred old rusty muskets, in such presence, be fore the flickering blue flame which but made "darkness visible," with the usual twang of Forty Acres' voice in prayer still sounding hi my cars, I was. with others; made u Loyal Lea'Mter. Surrounded with such parapherna lia n|" humbug, wc weie sworn also, as before said, to do cvqn unto death all in out power to make liberty eternal, to- "vote for no lie but loyal men," &c- ' Wo Were ntfat initiated i>yfo- tfro signs- ami pass-words, &c. Let one sTrffjee'^ but if yotf wish you can have them nil. Tor pass yorrrseTf" as a Leaguer, whew rpiestoued give the '*VoW L.'s"?as follows, right hand ruisedito HtaWm, thumb aud third finger,,touching,.their entiV over the palm, and ., pronounce; ( "Liberty.'' Bringing the hand down on a line with the .shoulder, pronounce, "Lincoln.'' Dropping the hand oped at your sides, pronounce "Loyal." With your hand | and firrgerh dowi.~ ward in the chest, the thumb .thus into the vest or waistband across the; biwiy^ nounce "League." There is a great deaf of other "&>mi?K>lery''' of the same character, unworthy ot place1 Wetifc, Suffice it to say that stteft is the character of a combination which bids fair to rcbaptise/ our* unhappy Southern soil with blood?such are the willing or duped instruments- ready to ear ry out tho will of our modern JcfFrys and IJaL rymplcs, "Masters of Stair Glcnlyoiis and? Lindsleys?such nro the Loyal X^gwi? which in darkened rooms,, before bine mysterious looking fires, cross swords ami psalm I singing humbugs, havo sworn in "about forty-fivo thousand" simple freedmcu, and taken from each a miserable balf-dofSrr fee for initiation. Those poor creatures nave' stood before that blue flame and all the f**>?a.T grim parapherwnfe* of this dark romn Irwmbug, with a superstitious awe, mingled with fear. To' them it was the "Carlo Dithaa" of their native jungles, the "Obi Man" with his poisoned co coanut. They will never forget that blue flume, those crossed swords, the wild upturned eye of "Forty Acres," with ominously uplifted linger' of the worthy "Miller," as lie pronimnce^ke "Anathema. Maranatha," on all who secede, or . .'.'Ml break the terrible pledge. Poor, simple, wronged creatures! In the wild' 'storms- of midnight, when the blue lightning thrusts its fingers through the storm tossed cloud, their imagination will bring out, clothed with, hor ror, that darkened room, that mysterious ftamcr the upturned eye of "Forty Acres," and the; "so mote it be" of the mixed multitude. Mexican Presidents, "? <* ,r - ' ?'. W? c?py ike- ScShwva^ ae? sc matter of inters est, and? to give an idea off fcho^liuuibcr fttfd variety of dynasties which have' followed orie. ( anothor in rapid succession! during- (rite post' forty-five years, in Mexico, since- she time 6fr its independence, the year 1821 : 1821? Iturbide, General-in-Chief.' 1822? Iturbide, Emperor. 1S23?Generals Guerro Bravo and Ncgreto,. Dicta torsi 1S21!?General" Victor fa, PrcstdciWt 1827?Gcueraza, President 182D?Guerrero, Dictator 1830?Bustaraento, JKbisideut 1832?Pedrasa, President. 1835?Santa Anna, President. 1837?Bustanicnte, President 1840? General Farinos, President". 1841? Bustamente, President; 1841?Santa Anna, President* 1843? Retirement of-Santa Anna, BUeoonotf . not known. 1844? Sauw Anna, President 1845? Gcu. Gavnlyo, President. 1847?Jose Justo CarO, President. 1847? Parcdes, President. 1848? Santa A nua, President 1850?Arista, President 1852? Juan Celiallos, President. 1849? Manuel Lombard in i, President, | . 1853?Santa Anna,. President,?April, 2?tl>. 1853? Santa Anna, Dictators-Dee.. |w, 1855? Akerez, Dictator. ' 1856? ComonforU, President- 1 1858?Zuloaga, President.. i 1858? Miranion, Vico-Prcsidenti 1859? Zuloaga, President 18G0?Miramon, President. 1861?Juarcs, President 1864?Maximillian, Emperor, and Jnnnav President. i 1867?Maximilian fallou aud Juarei Pre*i dent. Printers' CVnnniamlnstr/iffoi. Thou (especially the ladies) slitA' love' the printer, for he loveth you muchly. Thou shalt subscribe to his paper, for he seeketh much to obtain tho news, of which you remain ignorant If a business man," thou1 shalt advertise, that thus thy profits may enable thee not only to pay for thy paper, but put'money in thy purse. Thou shalt not visit him regardless of hi* office rules, that he may not hold thee gnjilty. Thou shall not read the manuscript \w the hands of the compositor, for he will not hold thee blameless. Thou shalt nof read the news before it is printed, for he will givo it to thee in duo ? time. Thou shalt not at any time send abusive of threatening letters to tho editor, nor cowhide him more than fivo times a year* Thou shalt not write communications oiv both sides of tho paper, for the editor needeth., the oilier side to write his editorials ufftffiu.