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The Georgetown news. (Georgetown, El Dorado County, Cal.) 1855-1856, December 20, 1855, Image 1

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VOL. 11.
Fl/itt tfc Sliaw.
Office, Main St., nearly opposite Masonic Hall.
For one year So 00
For six months 3 00
For three mouths 2 00
Hates of Advertising,
For first insertion of 1 square, or 10 lines.. S 300
For each subsequent insertion 1 50
Liberal deductions for quarterly advertisements.
'Wm. lESatst-lixs,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law.
Offi ‘ at Lower Johntown, El Dorado Co., Cal.
November 12th, 1855. [3-4t*
P RODGER, J. C. Manufacturer of all kinds
of Jewelry, Maiden Lane, Georgetown, two
doois south of J. J. Lewis’ Bowling Saloon.
November Ist, 1855. [2-tf.
G-XT£a.l3L£L333. C&3 Oo=,
Dealers in Groceries. Provisions, Cigars, Li
quors, fyc.
The highest price paid at all times for Gold Dust.
Bottle Hill, April 23d, 1855. [2B-tf
Xj. C, XtoyToxa-aria,
Justice of the Peace.
OFFICE on Church st., head of Maiden Lane,
one door south of Bollen & Ritter’s Gun and
Blacksmith establishment. Office open every day
of the week from 9 to 4 o’clock; Sunday excpted.
Georgetown, May 24th, 1855. [;!2-tf.
DRAGOO, DR. M, J., late of Johntown, would
inform the citizens of Bottle Hill that hav
ing permanently located in that place, he would
respectfully tender to them his professional ser
vices as Surgeon .aid Physician.
Bottle Hill, Dec. 15 1854. 9-tf
E.V\ , DR. F. G., Main street, Georgetown.—
Office opposite Adams & Co.
O t. 26, 1854. 2-tf
“VTTELI S, FARGO & CO., Express Agents,
V V ! <oM Dust Shippers, and Bankers, George
town. [See advertisement.] 2-tf
I. O. of O'. lE*.
’fS v Memento Lodge, No. 37. Institu
. March 22nd, 1855. fleets on
Thursday of each week, at the Ma
son! Hall, at 7 o’clock, P. M.
Transient Brother’s, in good standing, are cor
dially invited to attend.
J. J. LEWIS, N. G.
S. Knox, Sec’y.
_A.-8. of T —Georgetown Division, No. 42,
> r Sons of Temperance, meets every Tnes
day evening, at 7 o’clock, in their Hall
on .Main street, Georgetown.
All brethren in good standing are invited to at
tend. WM. T. GIBBS, W. P.
J. T. Noel, R. S.
Divine Worship.
Rev. DAVID McCLURE, of the Presbytery of
San Francisco, preaches every Sabbath morning
and evenmg in the Town Hail, Georgetown. Ser
vices commencing at 10i o’clock A. M., and 8
P. M. Also, every Sabbath afternoon at Bottle
Hill, at 3 o’clock. Prayer meeting at the Par
son ige on Wednesday evenings.
Public Worship.
There will be preaching at the Town Hall,
every Thursday evening, at 7 o’clock, P. M.; al
so upon every other Sabbath, 3 at o’clock, P. M.
by Rev. R. R. Brookshier, of the Methodist E
pisco:\J Cl.arch South.
Public Worship. —At the School House,
G( i getown. Regular appointments of Rev. Jno.
Sharp, of M. E. Church, A. M. and 7 P. M.,
every Sabbath. Occasional supplies by other
Ministers. Prayer meetings, Wednesday even
ings at 7P. M. Sabbath School 94 A. M.
California Stage
Cona.j3a33.3r Z'sJTotJ.co.
CJTAGES for Sacramento City,
id leave the “Nevada House,”
Georgetown, every morning, at three o'clock, A.
M., and the “ Buckeye Exchange,” Greenwood
Valley, it four o’clock, A. M., arriving in Sacra
mento in time to connect with the steamboats for
>au Francisco.
J. HAWORTH, Pres. Cal. S. Co.
Per M. A. MERCHANT, Agent.
Mar' h 28th, 1855. [24-tf.
Stage Line
r p!IE subscriber having extended his Line to
1 Bottle Hill, will run a four-horse coach dai
ly between the above places, via of Georgetown
and Johntown.
Leaving Bottle Hill at 65 o'clock A. M., arriv
al at Coloma at 10 o’clock A. M.
Returning, will leave Coloma at 3 o'clock, P.
M.. arriving at Bottle Hill at 0 o’clock P. M.
Having run a line of stages for the past two
years and a half between Georgetown and Colo
ns, the undersigned feels confident that in ex
tending his line to Bottle Hill, he can offer such
accommodations as to merit the patronage of the
June 27th, 1855. [37-tf.
Books & Stationery.
A Literary Depot, is opened by the under
signed, on Main Street, Bottle Hill, at which,
every variety, and of the latest date, can be had
n oon application.
Bottle Hill, April 18th, 1855. [27-tf.
TURNING LATHE—The undersigned begs
leave to inform the citizens of Georgetown
!f at he is prepared to do all kinds of Turning in
e t manner and at the shortest notice.
Sorgetowa, Oct 19, 1654. i-tf
Building on the Sand.
Tis well to woo, ’tis well to wed,
For so the world has done
Since myrtles grew and roses blew,
And morning brought the sun.
But have a care ye young and fair,
Be sure ye pledge with truth;
Be certain that your love will wear
Beyond the days of youth.
For if we give not heart for heart,
As well as hand for hand,
You’ll find you've played the “unwise” part,
And “built upon the sand.”
'Tis well to save, 'tis well to have
A goodly store of gold,
And hold enough of shining stuff,
For charity is cold.
But place not all your hopes and trust
In what the deep mine brings;
We cannot live on yellow dust
Unmixed with purer things.
And he who piles up wealth alone,
Will often have to stand
Beside his coffer chest, and own
’Tis “built upon the sand.”
'Tis good to speak in kindly guise
And soothe where'er we can;
Fair speech should bind the human mind,
And love link man to man.
But stay not at the gentle words,
Let deeds with language dwell;
The one who pities starving birds
Should scatter crumbs as well.
The mercy that is warm and true
Must lend a helping hand,
For those who talk yet fail to do,
But “build upon the sand.”
A Chapter on Betting.
Editor Town Talk:—As you were kind
enough yesterday to report a novel case
tried before me, wherein I took strong
grounds in favor of judicious betting:, I have
thought proper, with your permission,to go
further, and give my views at length ou this
point. The philosophy of betting, I be
lieve, has never yet been written. The sub
ject is an inviting one to the contemplative
mind, but I am sorry to say has been shame
fully neglected. It is not my intention to
touch upon the philosophy of the thing in
this communication, but merely to give it
a cursory glance in support of the position
assumed by me in the case of Wheeler vs.
Life is a game, sir—a big game. Upon
this assertion I plant my foot, and defy the
world to move me. Now if Life is a game
—and no one I hope will be fool enough to
doubt it—all the men and women are bet
ters, Thus you perceive, Mr. Editor, my
subject opens as neatly as an oyster. But.
further. If, as I have shown beyond all
controversy, Life is a game, and all the men
and women merely betters, the questions
arise, what’s the amount of their piles?—
What cards do they bet ou? and how does
their lack run? These are all honest que
ries, and very naturally follow along the
train of thoughts I am attempting to place
on paper. The piles in possession of these
various gamblers at Life's faro table are,
generally speaking, governed by the wealth
or poverty of their parents. We occasion
ally find a man or woman approach the
game with but one little stake, who by
watching the run of the cards and betting
judiciously, come out in the end with a large
fund. In olden times these cases were quite
isolated, but of late years, since almost any
bet—no matter how small—is taken, they
are more common.
The desire for betting is born with us—
it dies with us—l was about to say it goes
to the d—l with us. The first thing the
fond mother says to her infant is, “I’ll bet
he’ll make a little man,” or woman, as the
case may bo. The first thing the infant
thinks, and if it could talk, would say, “I’ll
bet pa and ma love me better than any
child they ever bad.” On the part of the
infant, this is judicious betting, for I go
upon the assumption that it is the first off
spring. Those who suppose that betting is
not natural, but simply one of the many
contracted habits of life, should stick a peg
here in the infant’s case. The child grows
—expands—swells—spreads itself. It is
taken sick. The physician—an old gam
bler, by the way—comes in. He sees at a
glance that it is a big game—a game of
life and death. He stakes bis reputation—
which constitutes his only pile—gives the
child a dose of castor oil, sugar-coated pills
or fish hooks, rubs it down with a warm
brick, and takes the chances. As I remark
ed in the case of Wheeler vs. Sharp, I have
no faith in those who bet on chances, or
trust in luck, and the only thing which sur
prises me is, that while all history and ex
perience has proved that the chances re
ferred to lose eight times out often, people
will continue to bet on them. The conse
quences are awful to contemplate!
Everywhere—in all our daily walks—in
every phase of life—among the lofty and
the lowly, the rich and the poor we see
this natural propensity to bet. The first
thing we hear from the" young man the day
after his marriage, is, “I’ll bet high on my
wife.” A month later and you could hard
ly get him to “puugle” down a cent on her.
The blooming young bride, too, in the full
ness of her love for Perkins, could at the
start,while intoxicated with joy at the happy
union, be induced to make a bet which she
might repent the balance of her days. So
we go. When the boarder takes his scat
at the breakfast table, he says, softly, “I
don’t go much on that beefsteak, ’ coffee,
butter, or whatever he may chance to taste.
Another says: “I think I’ll bet my pde on
this hash;” a third informs the landlady
that it is a losing game to board with her,
and leaves in disgust.
Now there is no necessity for all the j
trouble I have named. We should bet more |
judiciously. We should watch our game
more closely, see that those who deal for us
don’t “stock” the cards; keep an eye on the
run of the papers, and never risk a dollar
until we have something more than mere
luck or the chances on our side. By pur
suing this course, people will soon find that
they win much oftener than lose, besides
feeling better about the head and stomach.
There was no earthly necessity for the young
man above alluded to, to bet high on his
new wife. It was doubtless a piece of rash
ness which, like all rashness, must sooner or
later be paid for and mourned over. It is
quite true that sue was a card iu whom he
had full confidence. But did he know that
she was a winning card? Would any one
else bet on her? Where would she be when
a large amount of money was on the board?
You might win, Perkins, but if as I sus
pect, you go upon chances, she would be no
How perfectly natural is this betting pro
pensity! It is a glorious faculty, and yet
how few there are who exercise it judicious
ly! History tells of a man who so loved
this great idea of betting that he named one
of his fairest daughters Betty. The wisdom
of later ages, seeing with delight the eager
ness with which this name was embraced
by doatiug parents and lavished upon their
daughters, rubbed out a portion of it, so
that now-a.days, no matter in what part of
the world we may be cast, we can always
find a “Bet.” The curtailment of this name
iu order to make Bets common,was a stroke
of human wisdom and foresight but seldom
seen. Such Bets should, and doubtless will,
be all taken.
The subject on which I have been wri
ting, Mr. Editor, is inexhaustible, but the
length of my letter reminds me that for the
present I must close. It is a matter that
has occupied my mind for many years, and
one, too, which has caused me much pain
on account of the neglect it has received at
the hands of philosophers and statesmen.—
The case of Wheeler vs. Sharp was a pleas
ant one to me, because it gave me an oppor
tunity to ask whether or no the defendant
bet judiciously. I was soon satisfied that
he did, and took the occasion to make known
my views. Wheeler, it will be remembered
expressed the opinion that the cause of
Sharp’s conduct iu not paying his rent was
his vile habit of betting, Arc.; yet, notwith
standing the vileness of the tiling, 1 got a
bet of twenty-five dollars out of Wheeler
himself. I mention this merely to show
that the disposition to bet is in us, and will
come out. Yours, A Winning Card.
How They Read the Newspapers. —lt
is a proof of the great variety of human de
velopment to notice persons reading a news
Mr. General Intelligence first glances at
the telegraph, then at the editorial, and
then he goes into the correspondence.
Air. Sharper opens with stocks and mar
kets, and ends with the advertisements for
wants, hoping to find a victim.
Aunt Sukey first reads the stories—then
looks to see who is married.
M iss Prim looks at the marriages first,
and then reads the stories.
Air. Alarvelous is curious to sec the list of
accidents, murders, and the like.
Uncle Ned hunts up a funny thing, and
laughs with a will.
Madam Gossip turns to the local depart
ment for her thunder, and having obtained
that, throws the paper aside.
Airs. Friendly drops the first tear of sym
pathy over the deaths, and then over the
marriages; for, says she, one is about as bad
as the other.
Air. Politician dashes into the telegraph
—from thence into the editorial, ending
with the speeches.
Our literary friend is eager for a nice
composition from the editor, or some kind
correspondent. After analyzing the rhet
oric, grammar and logic of the production,
he turns a careless glance at the news de
partment, and then takes to his Greek per
fectly satisfied.
The pleasure seeker examines the pro
grammes of the public entertainments, and
decides which will afford him the greatest
amount of amusement.
The laborer searches among the wants for
a better opening in his business and—but
enough; an extension of the list is useless.
There is just as much dillerence in readers
as iu—anything.
But the worst is yet to come. If each
docs not find a column or less of his peculiar
liking, the editor has, of course, been lazy,
and is unworthy of patronage. Oh, who
wouldn't be an editor?
Personae Appearance of Alarshal
Pelissier. —The following is an extract
from a private letter, dated before Sebasto
“I was rather surprised at the personal
appearance of the French commander of
the forces. From his character, I expected
to have seen a yonng, active man; whereas
Gen. Pelissier is an enormously fat man,
with very white hair, which is cut very
close; he is so fat that he is unable to ride
any distance. He was in an open carriage,
drawn by four grays, and two soldiers as
outriders, and an Arab with a white flow
ing robe followed it. The General was
dressed in uniform, with a number of deco
rations on his breast, and over his should
ers he wore a white cloak, somewhat simi
lar to those worn by the Arab chiefs. He
is uot very tall, and his face has a rather
good-humored expression, and quite differ
ent from what your imagination would por
tray from history,either here or in Africa.”
Will lomig Bullion ever be Blclil
It has become very much the fashion,'
now-a-days, to say, “ Oh. young Bullion i
will be rich when his father dies;” and to
understand thereby that young Bullion is ;
sure to be rich one of these days.
But the proverb concerning a “slip be-'
tween the cup and the lip” holds good in \
this case as in all others, and young Bullion
may die before old Bullion does, in which
case he would never become rich—in this 1
world s goods, at any rate. Nor is hisi
chance of living so much greater than the j
governor’s (as he terms him,) as may be at i
the first glance imagined.
Suppose old Bullion to be fifty-five years
of age, young Bullion twenty-five. * Old
Bullion is a bank director—young Bullion
is “one of the b'hoys;” old Bullion turns in
every night at ten—young Bullion is “on a
time” till 4a. m. Balance of health is in
favor of old Bullion.
Old Bullion takes a glass of brandy and
water, and don’t eat anything going to bed;
young Bullion devours oysters, woodcock,
broiled chicken, at horribly indigestible
hours, and drinks champagne, champagne
brandy and Scotch ale, till he blesses the
man that invented soda water, when he
wakes up next morning. Balance of health
in favor of old Bullion again.
Oid Bullion goes down to the Bank in an
omnibus about 10 a. m. About the same
time young Bullion is going it with a fast
horse to “the great race,” incurring the dan
ger of being run over, of being run away
with, and of running over somebody else
and getting split. Balance of safety in fa
vor of old Bullion.
You don’t find old Bullion promenading
very often—the gout won't allow it; young
Bullion is all the time on a tramp, over
sidewalks under which arc steam engines,
across streets where runnings over are fre
quent. Old Bullion don’t go travelling
young Bullion is on the move all summer;
and steamboat blowings up and railroad col
lisions are frequent now-a-days. Balance
of safety still in favor of old Bullion.
Old Bullion is never out after dark —
young Bullion, like cats, travels principal
ly at night, and stands a very fair chance,
iu the present state of society, of having
his head and a slungshot acquainted some
dark night.
Old Bullion has against him thirty years
and the gout; young Bullion has the risk of
late hours, champagne suppers, fast horses,
“pistols and coffee for two,” street-crossings,
boiler-bursting, railroad smash-ups, and frac
tured craniums.
So the chances, you see, are not so very
much iu young Bullion’s favor, after all.
[Waver ly Alagaziue.
The Benefits of Women’s Society.—
It is better, says Thackeray, for you to pass
au evening once or twice in a lady’s draw
ing-room. even though the conversation is
slow, and you know the girl’s song by heart,
than in a club, tavern, or the pit of a thea
tre. All amusements of life to which vir
tuous women are not admitted, rely on it,
are deleterious iu their nature. All men
who avoid female society have dull percep
tions and are stupid, or have gross tastes
and revolt against what is pure. Your
club swaggerers, who are sucking the butts
of billiard cues all night, call female society
insipid. Poetry is insipid to a yokel; beau
ty has no charms for a blind man; music
does not please a poor beast who docs uot
know one tunc from another; and as a true
epicure is hardly ever tired of water sanchy
and brown bread and butter, I protest I can
sit for a whole night talking to a well reg
ulated, kindly woman, about her girl com
ing out, or her boy, at Eton, and like the
evening’s entertainment. One of the great
benefits a man may derive from women’s so
ciety is, that he is bound to be respectful to
them. The habit is of great good to your
moral man, depend upon it. Our education
makes of us the most eminently selfish men
in the world. We fight for ourselves, we
push lor ourselves, we yawn for ourselves,
we light our pipes and say we won’t go
out; we prefer ourselves, and our ease, and
the greatest good that comes to a man from
a woman’s society is, that he has to think
of somebody besides himself, somebody to
whom he is bound to be constantly atten
tive and respectful.
The Clayton-Bulwer Treaty.—The
N . Y. Express contains the following:
In the matter of the Clayton-Bulwer Trea
ty, it is given out now that Great Britain
means to abide by her translation of it, viz:
that she has a right to the Protectorate of
the Alosquito King, and to the possession
of certain islands on the coast of Honduras.
The right seems to be of some importance,
if, just now, Walker and his fillibusters
were not taking possession of Nicaragua:
in which, if they are there successful, they
or others will follow up in Honduras, San
Salvador, and in Central America gener
ally, except Costa Rica, which alone seems
to have a settled government.
The Central American States (Costa Ri
ea excepted) so open themselves to fillibus
terism from abroad by their own civil wars,
that they are very likely to be Anglo-Saxon
lAorth American in settlement and Gov
ernment, in spite even of ourselves, our
Government, or the great Steamship Nica
ragua Transit Company, which was very
content as things were. Hence, if, as said.
Great Britain persists in her construction
of the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty, the persist
ence, practically, cannot amount to much.
A Sick Lawyer. —A lawyer, being sick,
made his last will and testament and ga\e
all his estate to fools and roadmen . Being
asked the reason for so doing, he said,
“from such I got it, and to such i return it
a train.”
A Good ’l9 Story.
The following bit of hnmor appears in
the last Stockton Republican, contributed
by a forty-niner, who seems to look back up
on the good, old. rough-and-tumble days of
California as the only portion of its history
worth remembering:
Our Pilot.— There were few river pilots
in those days—steamboats, of course, none.
Anxious to reach Stockton in the craft that
brought us Iroin the New York dock, our
Capt. being ignorant of the windings of the
San Joaquin, secured in San Francisco the
services or an individual who, in his own
language, “‘had bin thar, and knowed a
heap ’ about the river, ile turned out,
however, as the sequel will show, to have
been a Missouri ox driver, who, being on a
grand spree in San Francisco until his‘pile’
had melted away, had the ingenuity to se
cure his passage free by engaging in the
above capacity. Missouri was intent on
playing his part through, for as we entered
the narrow channel of the river, seeing his
time for action had arrived, he placed him
self near the man at he wheel, when the
Captain surrendered to him the command
and went below. He evidently now felt
the weight of responsibility resting upon
him. After standing awhile on tiptoe,
looking over the bow, lie walked up to the
man at the wheel, and tapping him famil
iar]} - on the shoulder, lie whispered, “Say,
Mister, I reckon you’d better come haw a
little.” Then running to the other side he
quickly changed his notion. “Gee,” cried
Missouri. “Gee, gee, gee! J—s to J—s,
we’re sot.” Then turning to the man at
the wheel, with hands upward, in a phrenzy
of despair ho continued. “Darn your pic
tur, it you’d only good when you first heart)
me holler, we'd never struck nary time.”—
“Shiver my mizen!” said Jack, holding on
to the wheel amazed, “if our skipper ain’t
shipped a native California pilot, and he’d
ought to know 1 don’t speak a word of
their language.” And sure enough wc were
hard aground; our vessel never got any
nearer Stockton—in the language of Mis
souri, “nary time.”
A Remarkable Dog.— The following
well authenticated incident, taken from a
celebrated French work, entitled, “L’His
toire des Chiens Celcbrcs,” shows that a
well educated dog, under exciting circum
stances, can not only reason and act with
wonderful decision and presence of mind,
but can also manifest a feeling of revenge,
which is not only foreign to his natural
character, but which can hardly be sur
passed in intensity by a Christian warrior:
“ Mustapha, a strong and active grey
hound, belonged to an artillerist of Dublin.
Raised from its birth in the midst of camps,
it always accompanied its master, and ex
hibited no alarm in the midst of battle. In
the hottest engagements it remained near
the cannon, and carried the match in its
mouth. At the memorable battle of Fon
tenoi, when the square battalions of the
Hanoverians were broken, the master of
Mustapha received a mortal wound. At
the moment when about to fire upon the en
emy. he and several of his corps were
struck to the earth by a discharge of artil
lery. Seeing his master extended lifeless
and bleeding, the dug became desperate
and howled piteously. Just at that time a
body of French soldiers were advancing to
gain possession of the piece, which was aim
ed at them from the top of a small rising
ground: Who would believe it, if the fact
were not attested by several witnesses wor
thy of credit? Doubtless with a view to
avenge his master's death, Mustapha seized
the lighted match with his paws, and set
fire to the cannon loaded with case-shot I
Seventy men fell on the spot, and the re
mainder took to flight. After this bold
stroke, the dog lay down sadly near the
dead body of his master, licked his wounds,
and remained there twenty-four hours with
out sustenance. He was at length, with
difficulty, removed by the comrades of the
deceased. This courageous greyhound was
carried to London, and presented to George
11, who had him taken care of as a brave
Byron thus apostrophizes this faithful
“The poor dog ! in life the firmest friend—
The first to welcome, foremost to defend;
Whose honest heart is still hi- master's own;
Who labors, fights, lives, breathes, for him alone.”
Ax Extraordinary Incident. —The X.
Y. Tribune relates the following of a young
and blooming married woman of that city,
who entered the bonds of matrimony about
a year ago:
“Last Friday she was suddenly taken sick
and her mother, being with her, sent tor the
doctor, believing that she had a touch of
the cholera. Xot finding Dr. J. K. \\ ood,
she called in a strange doctor, who, upon
entering the room, said to her: ‘Madame is
voar daughter married?’ The mother an
swered: ‘Certainly, sir: do you not sec her
boy lying there, just eleven weeks old to
day; ’ ‘Eleven weeks old !' replied he: “why
woman she is going to present her husband
with another child!’ And so it turned
out; instead of cholera there appeared a
bouncing hit girl, who is thriving and do
ing well. The writer of this knows the
facts to be true, although they may appear
very strange.”
;SgT- A printer's devil, who pays especial
attention to a young lady up town without
making any decided advances, was return
ing with her from meeting the other night
when she feelingly said, “I fear 1 shall nev
er get to Heaven.”
“Why so.'" said Ed.
“Eocause,’’ she replied. "I love the devil
so well.”
Examination of Attorneys.—A corre
spondent sends ns the following racy exam
ination of a candidate for admission to the
bar in Iowa:
Examiner. —Do yon smoke, sir?
Candidate.—l do sir.
Ex.—Have you a spare cigar?
Can.—Yes sir; (extending a short six.)
Ex.—Now, sir, what is the first duty of
a lawyer?
Can.—To collect fees.
Ex.—Right. What is the second?
Can.—To increase the number of his cli
Ex.—" When does your position towards
your client change? *
Can.—When making a bill of costs.
Ean.—We then occupy the antagonist's
position; 1 assume the character of plaintiff
and he becomes defendant.
.Ex. —A suit decided, how do you stand
with the lawyer conducting the other bill?
C an.—Cheek by jowl.
Ex.—Enough, sir; you promise to be an
ornament to your profession, and I wish you
success. Now. are you aware of the duty
you owe me?
Ex.—Describe the duty.
Can.— It is to invite you to drink.
Ex.—Hut suppose 1 decline.
Can.—(Scratching his head.) There is
no instance of the kind on record in the
books; 1 cannot answer that question.
Ex.—T ou arc right, and the confidence
with which you make the assertion shows
that you have read the law attentively;
let’s take the drinks, and I'll sign your cer
“By-and-by.” — There’s music enough in
those three words for the burden of a song.
There is hope wrapped up in them, the ar
ticulate beat of the human heart.
We heard it as long ago as we can re
member, when we made brief but perilous
journeys from chair to table, and from table
to chair again.
We heard it the other day, when two
parted that had been “loving in their lives,”
one to California, the other to her lonely
Everybody says it some time or other.—
The little boy whispers it when he dreams
of exchanging the little stubbed boots for
those like a man.
The man murmurs it—when in life's mid
dle watch, he sees his plans half finished, and
his h.opes, yet in the bud, waving in the cold
late spring.
The old man says it—when he thinks of
putting off the mortal for the immortal, to
day for to-morrow.
the weary watch for morning, and while
away the time with “by-and-by.”
Sometimes it sounds like a song; some
times there is a throb or a sigh in it.
What wouldn’t the world give to find it in
almanacs—set down somewhere, no matter
if the dead of December—to know that it
would surely come? But fairy-like as it is,
flitting like a sunbeam over the dewy shad
ows of years, nobody can spare it, and we
look upon the many times these words have
beguiled us, the memory of the silver “by
and-by, as like the sunrise of Osssiau,
“pleasant but mournful to the soul.”
Influence of a Newspaper. — A school
teacher, who has been engaged a long time
in his profession, and witnessed the influ
ence of a newspaper upon the minds of a
family ol children, writes to the editor of
the Ogdonsburgh Sentinelj the result ol his
observation. He has found it to be a uni
versal iact that those scholars, of both sexes
and all ages, who have had access to news
papers at home, when compared with those
who have not, are better readers, excelling
in pronunciation, and consequently read
more understandingly:
They are better spellers and define words
with ease and accuracy.
They obtain a practical knowledge of
geography, in almost half the time it re
quires others, as the newspaper has made
them familiar with the location of the im
portant places, their government and doings,
on the globe.
They are better grammarians, for having
become so familiar with every variety of
style in the newspaper, from the common
place advertisement to the finished and clas
sical oration of tiic statesman, they more
readily comprehend the meaning of the text,
and consequently analyse its construction
with accuracy.
They write better compositions, using
better language, containing more thoughts’,
more clearly and connectedly expressed.
A Chapter of Accidents. —A dog with
a tin kettle tied to his tail, darted, at top
speed through Washington street yesterday
afternoon. In course of his flight he ran
against a horse attached to a wagon in
front of Washington Market. The horse
took a stampede and ran into a milk wngon
just on the point of leaving; the driver of
the milk wagon was thrown out, and fortu
nately fell on a pile of tomatoes, owned by a
market woman; the woman took a severe
hold of the unfortunate wagoner by the hair
of his head, and demanded damages. Ihe
milkman resented such aggravated usage,
and a butcher took up the quarrel in be
half of the woman, a fight ensued, and one
of the party was carried off by the police.
At this interesting juncture, we left, satis
fied with the possession of an unusual item.
[S. F. Sun.
vou want an ignoramus to respect
vou, "dress to death,” and wear watch seal?
about the size of a brickbat.
NO. 8.

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