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UttmflMttjs ?cpaftm*ttt. a nev1da funeral. There was a grand time over Buck Fan- i shaw when he died. He was a representative i citizen. He had "killed his man," not in his own quarrel, it is true, but in the defense of a stranger beset by numbers. He had kept a sumptuous saloou. He had been the proprietor of a dashing helpmeet whom he could have discarded without the formality of a divorce. He had held a high position in the fire department, and had been a very Warwick in politics. When he died there was a great lamentation throughout the town, but especially in the vast bottom stratum of society. On the inquest it was shown that Buck Fanshaw. in the delirium of a wasting tvphoid i fever, had taken arsenic, shot himself through j the body, cut his throat, and jumped out of a j four-story window and broke his neck; and after due deliberation, the jury, sad and tear- j ful, but with intelligence unbliudcd by its j sorrow, brought in a verdict of death "by the visitation of God." What could the world do without juries ? Prodigious preparations were made for the funeral. All the vehicles in town were hired, all the saloons were put in mourning, all the municipal and fire company flags were hung at half mast, and all the firemeu ordered to muster in uniform, and bring their machines draped in black. Regretful resolutions were passed and various committees appointed; among others a committee of one was appointed to call on a minister?a fragile, gentle spiritual new fledgling from an eastern theological seminary, * ? 1 M il .1*A. ana as yet unacquainceu wun me ways 01 me mines. The committee-man, "Scotty" Briggs, made his visit. Being admitted to his presence, he sat down before the clergyman, placed his fire hat on an unfinished manuscript sermon under the minister's nose, took from it a red silk handkerchief, wiped his brow, and heaved a sigh of dismal impressiveness explanatory of his business. He choked and even shed tears, but with an effort he mastered his voice, and said, in lugubrious tones: "Are you the duck that runs the gospel mill next door ?" "Am I the?pardon me, I believe I do not understand." With another sigh and a half sob, Scotty rejoined: "Why, you see, we are in a bit of trouble, and the boys thought may be you'd give us a lift if we'd tackle to you, that is, if I've got the rights of it, and you're head clerk of the doxology works next door." "I am the shepherd in charge of the flock whose fold is next door." "The which." "The spiritual adviser of the little flock of believers whose sanctuary adjoins these premises." Scotty scratched his head and reflected a moment and then said: "You rather hold over me, pard. I reckon I can't call that card. Ante and pass the buck." "IT , 9 T k .?. Wkot rl.vi T 1J.VTI * JL JUU4 jyttiUVU, ff 11WV UIU A understand you to say ?" "Well, you've rather got the bulge on me.v Or may be we've both got the bulge, somehow. You don't smoke me, and I don't smoke you. You see one of the boys has passed in his checks, and we want to give him a good sendoff, and so the thing I'm on now is to rout out somebody to jerk a little chin music for . us and waltz him through handsome." "My friend, I seem to grow more and more bewildered. Your observations are wholly incomprehensible to me. Cannot you simplify them some way ? At first I thought perhaps I understood you, but now I grope. Would it not expedite matters if you restricted yourself to categorical statement of facts unincumbered with obstructing accumulations of metaphor and allegory ?" Another pause and more reflection. Then Scotty said: "I'll have to pass, I judge." j "Haw 9" "You've raised me out, pard." "I still fail to catch your meaning." "Why, that last lead of yourn is too many for me?that's the idea. I can neither trump nor follow suit." The clergyman sank back in his chair perplexed. Scotty leaned his head on his hand, and gave himself up to reflection. Presently his face came up, sorrowful but confident. "I've got it now, so's you cau savvy," said he. What we want is gospel-sharp. See?" "A what?" "Gospel-sharp, parson." "O! why did you not say so before ? I am a clergyman?a parson." "Now you talk! You see my blind and straddle it like a man. Put it there!"?extending a brawny paw, which closed over the minister's small hand and gave it a shake indicative of fraternal sympathy and fervent gratification. "Now we are all right, pard. Let's start j fresh. Don't vou mind me snuffling a little, t becuz we are in a power of trouble. You see one of the boys has gone up the flume?" "Gone where ?" "Up the flume?throw'd up the sponge, you know." "Thrown up the sponge ?" "Yes?kicked the bucket?" "Ah?has departed to that mysterious country from whose bourne no traveler returns." "Return? Well, I reckon not. Why, pard, he's dead I" "Yes, I understand." "O, you do? Well, I thought may be you might be getting tangled once more. Yes, you see he's dead again?" "Aqain ! Why has he ever been dead before?" "Dead before? No. Do you reckon a man has got as many lives as a cat ? But you bet, he's awful dead now, poor old boy, and I wish j I'd never seen this day. I don't know no better a friend than Buck Fanshaw. I know'd hira by the back, and when I know a man | like him I freeze to him?you hear me. Take j him all around, pard, there never was a bul- ] lier man in the mines. No man ever knowed < Buck Fanshaw to go back on a friend. But i it's all up, you know; it's all up. It ain't no ] use. They've scooped him." . "Scooped him ?" < "Yes?death has. Well, well, well, we've < got to give hira up. Yes, indeed. It's a kind i of a hard world, after all, ain't it ? But, pard, he was a rustler. You ought to see him get ' started once. He was a bully boy with a glass eye! Just spit in his face, and give i him room according to his strength, and it was just beautiful to see him peel and go in ! He was the worst son of a thief that ever draw'd breath. Pard, he was on it. He was on it bigger than an injun!" "On it??on what?" "On the shoot. On the shoulder. On the fight. Understand ? He didn't give a conti- j nental?for any body. Beg your pardon, j friend, for coming so near saying a cus word.! But you see I'm in an awful strain in this j palaver, on account of having to cram down ; * ? * ?At-? :iJ > l and araw everymmg so umu. x>ui, wo vo gut, to give him up. There aint any getting j round that, I don't reckon. Now, if we can j get you to help plant him?" "Preach the funeral discourse ? Assist at! the obsequies ?" "Obs'quies is good: Yes. That's it; that's j our little game. We are going to get up the : thing regardless, you know. He was always { nifty himself, and so you bet you his funeral; ain't going to be no slouch ; solid silver door j plate on his coffiu, six plumes on the hearse, and a nigger on the box with a biled shirt and plug hat?how's that for high? And we'll take care of you, pard. We'll fix you all right. There will be a kerridge for you ; and whatever you want, you just 'scape out, and we'll tend to you. We've got a shebang fixed up for you to stand behind in No one's house, and don't you be afraid. Just go in and toot your horn if you don't sell a clam. Put Buck through as bully as you can, pard ; for any body will tell you that knowed him, that he wus one of the whitest men that was ever in the mines. You can't draw it too strong. He never could stand it to see things going wrong. He's done more to make this town peaceable than any man in it. I've seen him lick four Greasers in eleven minutes, myself. If a thing wanted regulating, he wani't a man to go browsing around after somebody to do it, but he would prance in and regulate it himself. He warn't a Catholic ; but it didn't make no difference about that when it came down to what man's right: was?and so when some roughs jumped the j Catholic boneyard and started to stake out town lots in it, he went for them, and he cleaned them, too! I was there and seen it myself" "That was very well, indeed?at least the impulse was?whether the act was strictly defensible or not. Had the deceased any religious convictions ? That is to say, did he feel a dependence upon, or acknowledge allegiance to a higher power ?" More reflection. "I reckon you've stumped me again, pard. Could you say it over once more, and say it slow ?" "Well, to simplify it somewhat, was he, or rather had he ever been connected with any organization sequestered from secular concerns and devoted to self sacrifice in the interests of morality?" "All down but nine?set 'cm up on the other alley, pard." "What did I understand you to say ?" "Why you're most too many for me, you know. When you get in with your left, I hunt grass every time. Every time you draw you fill; but I don't seem to have auy luck. Let's have a new deal." "How ? oegin again ?" "That's it" "Very well. Was he a good man, and?' "There?I see that; don't put up another chip till I look at my hand. A good man, says you ? Pard, it aint no name for it. He was the best man that ever?you would have doted on that man. He could lam any galoot of his inches in America. It was him that put down the riot last election before it got a start; and every body said he was the only man that could have done it. He waltzed in with a trumpet in one hand and a spanner in the other, and sent fourteen men home on a shutter in less than three minutes. He had that riot all broke up and prevented nice before any body got a chance to strike a blow. He was always for peace, and he would have peace?he could not stand disturbances. Pard, he was a great loss to this town. It'd please the boys if you could chip in something like that and do him justice. Here, once, when the roughs got to throwing stones through the Methodist Sunday-school windows, Buck Faushaw, all of his own notion, shut up his saloon and took a couple of sixshooters and mounted guard over the Sundaysr>hru->l TTa wh<j the hnllipat. nmn in t.hfi monn tains, pard. He could run faster, jump higher, hit harder and hold more tangle-foot whisky than any man in seventeen counties. Put that in, pard. It'd please the boys more than any thing you could say. And you can say, pard, that he never shook his mother." "Never shook his mother ?" "That's it?any of the boys will tell you so." "Well, but why should he shake her?" "That's what I say?but some people does." "Not people of any repute." "Well, some that averages pretty so-so." "In ray opinion, a man that would offer personal violence to his mother, ought to?" "Cheese it, pard; you've banked your ball clean outside the string. What I was drivin' at was that he never throwed off his mother? don't you see? No, iudeedy! He gave her a house to live in, and town lots, and plenty cf money; and he looked after her and took /? i . * . t t _ 1 _ sare or ner an tne time; ana wnen sne was , lown with the small pox, I'm blowed if he iidn't set up of nights and nuss her himself. Beg your pardon for saying it, but it hopped 3ut too quick for yours truly. You've treat- ( id me like a gentleman, and I afn*Tthe man ~ :o hurt your feelings intentional. I think J you're white. I think you're a square man, sard. I like you, and I'll lick any man that ( fon't. I'll lick him till he can't tell himself , *rom a last year's corpse !" [Another frater- | ial handshake and exit.] , The obsequies were all that "the boys" ] :ould desire. Such a marvel of funeral pomp , lad never been seen in Nevada. The plumed j learse, the dirge-breathing brass bands, the ( dosed marts of business, the flags drooping at j mlf-mast, the long, plodding procession of j iniformed secret societies, military battalions j md fire companies, draped engines, carriages j )f officials and citizens in vehicles and on ] bot, attracted multitudes of spectators to the idewalks, roofs and windows ; and for years | ifterward, the degree of grandeur attained ] )y any civic display in Nevada was deter- | nined by comparison with Buck Fanshaw's , "uneral. , _ , BST A city chap from this town, spending a | few weeks in the country with a farmer friend, isked to be permitted to "abstract the lacteal | luid from the bovine group at eventide." As , loon as the farmer found out that all he want- ^ ;d was to milk the cows some night, he cheer- | fully assented, and with other members of the | family seated himself on the barnyard fence j ;o see the fun. Hardly had the tight panta- ] ooned chap begun to pull on the peculiar ? latural appendages which all who desire milk \ must learn to manipulate, (except milkmen ] who live near a pond,) when the patient cow | looked around and saw the "what is it" at ( tier side. Fetching him a wipe in the eyes j with her tail, she at the same time projected , her hind foot with lightning-like rapidity, and ] while the milker was balancing on his ear in a mud-puddle, the sportive cow sent the milk- j pail spinning after him. Owing to damages . to his pants, our hero was compelled to walk , backward until he got out of sight of the , farmer's daughters, and now he says farming is a fraud.? Cleveland Leader. , flST An old negro named Pete was very ' much troubled about his sins. Perceiving I him one day with very downcast look his master asked him the cause. "0, niassa, I'm , such a great sinner!" "But, Pete," said his , master, "you are foolish to take it so much to | heart. You never see me troubled about my , sins." "I know the reason, raassa," said Pete. "When you go out duck shooting and kill one duck and wound anoder, don't you run after the wounded duck ?" "Yes, Peteand the master wondered what was coming next. , "Well, raassa, dat is de way wid you and me. De debil has got you sure; but as he am not sure of me, he chases dis chile all de time." ftsT "How much a peck for potatoes ?" asked a gentleman in market on Monday morning. The price suited him, and he was about to purchase, when a thought suddenly struck him. "Wait a moment," ray good woman," he said, "I fear these potatoes were picked on Sunday." "No, sir, they were not, she replied, "but to tell the truth, they grew on Sunday!" BST A countryman took his seat at a tavern table opposite to a gentleman who was indulging in a bottle of wine. Supposing the wine to be common property, our unsophisticated country friend helped himself to it with j the gentleman's glass. "That's cool!" ex- j claimed the owner of the wine indignantly, j " -1 "T i t i ,1 ! "les," replied tne otner, -j. snouia minis there was ice in it." JST A bluff old farmer says : "If a man j professes to serve the Lord, I like to see him i do it when he measures onions as well as when ' he hollers glory halleluoar." This remark j will apply to more transactions than meas- ' uring onions. t?* A love letter which was picked up in j a street of Springfield, Illinois, had the fol- \ lowing paragraph: "My love I chawed the J postage stamp on your last letter all to thun-! der because I kuowed you licked it on." fqmlwent. NO MORTGAGE ON THE FARM. Mary, lot's kill the fatted calf and celebrate the day, For the last dreadful mortgage on the farm is swept away, I've got the papors with me, they are right as right can be? Let us laugh and sing together, for the dear old farm is free. Don't all the Yankees celebrate the Fourth day of July? Because 'twas then that freedom's sun lit up our nation's sky; "UAiil/lti't ti?a /?a1 nl>r?ofn on/1 ftlO flO XT v v ny niiuuiun i> ? u tnoii v.oiuuiuw^ ?t>v? vu? v??j no'er forget? Where is there any freedom like being out of debt ? I have risen up many mornings an hour before sun, And night has overtaken mo before the task was done, When weary with my lal)or, 'twas this thought that nerved my arm? Each day of toil will help to pay the mortgage on the farm. And, Mary, you have done your part in rowing to the shore, By taking eggs and butter to the little village store; You did not spend the money in dressing up for show, But sang from morn till evening in your faded calico. And Bessie, our sweet daughter?God bless her little heart, The lad that gets her for a wife must be by nature smart? Siie's gone without piano, her lonely hours to charm, To have a hand in paying off the mortgage on the farm. I'll build a little cottage soon, to make your heart rejoice; I'll buy a good piano to go with Bessie's voice; You shall not make your butter with that up and down concern, For I'll go this very day and buy the finest patent chum. Lay by your faded calico, and go with me to town, ^ ^ Anil get yoursen unu liesaie a new mm aumni^ gown; Low prices for our produce need not give us now alarm; Spruce up a little, Mary, there's no mortgage on the farm. While our hearts are now so joyful let us, Mary, not forget, To thank the God of heaven for being out of debt; For Ho gave rain and sunshine, and put strength. into my arm, And lengthened out our days to see no mortgage on the farm. SOMETHING ABOUT CHICKENS. Mrs. Mary C. West gives the readers of the Mobile Register some excellent hints on the treatment of fowls, drawn from her own experience, and Prof. Stelle, the able agricultural editor, makes some valuable comments on some points, which we also reproduce: I have made up ray mind to write you a chapter on chickens ; but that does not imply that I am going to tell you all about what manner of creatures chickens are, and how they are produced; for I am writing to editors who must understand something about these things, and for farmers' wives and daughters, who know a thing or two as well as myself. I don't want to write for any body else?don't intend to do it?and therefore I may confine myself to a few practical hints, which I consider new, and which I hope to make of service to that class 01 readers ior whom they are intended. Laying.?Hens lay more regularly all through the year in the far South than they do in the North. The greatest lull is in the spring, (January and February,) just about the time the hens North commence their season's laying. Eggs are not very plentiful with us at this writing. We never feed our hens much with a view to increasing their laying qualities, as people do in other sections?it might be better if we did. Setting.?I always find it best to set hens uuder shelter and ou the ground. If the last is not practicable, I have a green sod taken up thin and placed under the nest. This is very importaut, for the earth contains heat enough to keep the eggs in good condition while the hen is off in quest of food, something which boards or mere litter under the nest, would not be sure to do. I make my nests of straw prmnHpil nr hriliead finoly with thfipoll of an axe, usually laying it on a smoothout stump of a tree to pound it. Testing Eggs.?On the evening of the sixth lay after setting the hen, I go to the nest with i lighted candle, and holding the eggs up between it and my eyes, carefully observe their ippearance. If they look clear and red, I know they are sterile, and so take them from the nest; they will not yet have been spoiled by the hen's sitting upon them. The fertile jggs containing birds, will appear dark; that is, they will show no light through them. It is great folly to let a heu sit, all through her term on sterile eggs, finally converting them into "rotten eggs," when they may be so easily detected by this simple process. Assisting Nature.?About a week before the time for hatching, in dry summer weather, [ go to the nest when the hen is off, and sprinkle the eggs pretty thoroughly with warm A-ater. I find this a great aid to nature in the process of hatching, as it has a tendency to soften the shells, ft applies equally well ? all kinds of poultry. Roosting.?I find that young chickens should iiave a clean and well-ventilated roosting place. It is best for them to sit on the bare ground. The ground of their house should je thoroughly cleaned at least once a week, 3v scraninor it out to the depth of. sav. two j k_ a 4 ? "A * inches, and supplying the place with fresh, loose earth. The loose earth acts as an absorbent, and keeps the house pure, and the jhickens in a healthy condition. [And the loose earth removed once a week from a large Hock of chickens is worth almost as much as the poultry, for it is one of the most excellent fertilizers that could be applied to plants. It should be well stirred together and carefully boused until the time for using it is at hana. [f convenient, to cover it close in boxes or barrels, all the better. We have tested quite x variety of fertilizers this season, but none with results better than those shown by the scrapings of our chicken-house.?Ed.] Feeding.?Very young chickens will have to be fed regularly until they are able to run about in quest of food. In their case most persons in this section use corn meal slightly wetted, but experience has taught me to believe that corn "grits," given dry is best suited to their wants. I feed my young chickens regularly four times each day. [In regions further North and less favored for poultrygrowing, it is usual to feed young birds regularly but sparingly about every two hours throughout the day; that is, where persons make poultry-growing a business. Adult poultry is fed twice a day?morning and evening?and corn, wheat, oats and barley, with various garden vegetables, finely chopped, i generally make up the feed. In our expe-1 rience we have found them to do as well as I could be desired on boiled sweet potato J mashed and mixed with a small proportion j of corn meal?about one part of the latter to four or five of the former. Irish potatoes, carrots, turnips, pumpkins, squashes, apples, or peaches treated in the same way will be found to answer every purpose.?En.] Doctoring.?My chickens are never sick, consequently I have no doctoring to do. I think sickness among fowls is more the result of bad management than anything else; and j that doctoring does more harm than good. Remove the cause aud the effect will remove j itself. I have, on several occasions, when j chicken cholera was bad in my neighborhood, j given, mixed in the food of my fowls, small' proportions of powdered charcoal, oxide of iron and flour of sulphur. Never had a true case of cholera, but do not pretend to hold i that the drugs administered should have cred- j it for it. Rather think that keeping the' houses clean and their floors well covered with j fresh earth has been the medicine that saved ; my chickens. + + Burns.?W. H. Lewis sends the following ' remedy which he has tested and knows to be good : One ounce air-slacked lime aud three I ounces hog's lard ; mix thoroughly and apply to the burn. It will afford immediate relief, I and when applied to a fresh burn will heal the sore and leave no scar. We may say that whatever will exclude air will give relief. fUaflwg for the ^abHratb. CONDUCTED BY REV. ROBERT LATHAN. [Original.] NO SALVATION WITHOUT CHRIST. In the human mind there is a vague idea that mankind are resting under the curse of a violated law. It is, so far as our present purpose is concerned, a matter of no importance how we become sinners ; neither does it moLro onv nnrlirMilor difference whether there is any agreement as to the heinousness of our sins. All that our purpose at present demands, is the admission of the simple fact that we are siuners. With regard to this point there is but oue opinion. None deny that we are sinners. It is generally admitted that the wages of sin is death. Universally, it is felt that we will in some way or other be punished by God for our sins. Here again there is great room for diversity of opinion. In fact men do differ as widely as possible from each other with regard to the nature and extent of the punishment which awaits the sinner. None, however, deny that sin will be punished. The two facts which are generally admitted, are that all men are sinners, and that sin will be punished by God. A knowledge of the two facts seems to suggest the inquiry, "How can the sinner escape the wrath of God ?" To enjoy happiness and avoid suffering is the end for ?-i~:-i- . T? wniuii every iiitexugeiiL euuit is iiinuu jlustinctively, we desire happines3 and dread punishment. How can these desires be realized is a question which has a direct and practical application to every one. A little sober reflection will, we are convinced, satisfy any one that there is no way by which we can secure the salvation of our immortal souls but by accepting of Christ Jesus as our Saviour. Until an atonement is made for us, we must stand at the bar of God liable to suffer the punishments duo the sinner. This is in perfect accordance with the principles of right and justice which is acknowledged and acted upon by all men everywhere and under all circumstances. A debt is a debt until it is paid. The only legitimate way of canceling it is by paying it. The only way by which the charge of sin against us can be removed is by satisfying the claims of the law against us. We must be redeemed. A price must be paid for us. If we knew positively what that redemption price was we could tell at once whether we could pay it or not. Both the Bible and an enligntened conscience teach that the penalty which we incurred by sinning, is suffering, and the price of our redemption is and must be suffering. This we cannot pay and be saved; for we cannot suffer and be saved from suffering at the same time. This is on the plain principle that it is impossible to be and not to be at the same time. Obedience to the law will not meet its penal requirements, and more than suffering will meet its perceptive demands. The only way by which we can escape the punishment due to sin is by accepting of Christ as our surety. Our redemption price can be paid by no one else. A correct knowledge of the requirements of God's law, and the sinful condition of the human family, is calculated to drive us to Christ. When we take a common sense view of the moral condition of man, we are forced to the conclusion that from the very nature of us we cannot escape the wrath of God un less redeemed, and 110 one can pay the price of our redemption but the Son of God. [Original.] THE CHILDREN OF SCOFFERS. It is a remarkable fact that the sons and daughters of scoffers are rarely pious. Infidels can often be traced back through a long line of ancestors. At first sight this may seem strange; but when we reflect upon it, there is nothing surprising about it. The offspring of pious parents are generally pious. Both facts are accounted for in the same way. Results are always produced by adequate causes. < No event takes place in any part of the universe without a cause. The influence which parents have upon their offspring is but a lit- . tie less than Almighty. Instinctively, we regard our parents as perfect. One of the hard- ] est things to learn is that our parents can do wrong. The children of scoffers learn from their ; parents to scoff and believe that in so doing , they do right, because, to the child, the high- | est authority is the example of the parents. 1 To such persons the authority of the Bible 1 and the dispensations of providence have but little weight. In this way infidelity is prop- \ agated from father to son for many genera- I tions. If Satan can succeed in filling the mind of a father and mother with infidel notions, he may rest easy respecting the moral characters of the sons and daughters. It may be laid down as a rule that the children resemble the parents not only in physical appearance but in the bent and inclinations of their minds and moral character. Such fathers such sons; such mothers such daughters, is a general truth to which there are but few exceptions. In making our calculations respecting the moral character of a boy, we may safely say that he will make a mau like his father. Parents should reflect upon this subject and be wise, not only for themselves, but for their posterity. In the providence of! God, the temporal and spiritual welfare of their offspring, both for time and eternity, has been placed in their hands. Parents lead their children to heaven or drag them down to perdition. In this thought there is something awfully solemn. May parents think about it seriously and prayerfully. ^ What is Wanted.?The Holy Spirit is able to make the Word as successful now as < in the days of the Apostles. He can bring in , by hundreds and thousands, as easily as by , nnca onH tivns Tlip. reason whv we are not more prosperous is, that we have not the j ] Holy Spirit with us in might and power as in ! < early times. If we had the Spirit sealing our !, ministry with power, it would signify very little about our talent. Men might be poor | and uneducated; their words might be bro- < ken, uugrammatical; there might be none of 1 the polished periods of Hall or glorious thun- , ders of Chalmers; but if the might of the Spirit attended them, the humblest evange- ' ] lists would be more successful than the most I j eloquent of preachers. It is extraordinary j grace, not talent, that wins the day. It is L extraordinary spiritual power, that we need. Mental power fills a chapel; but spiritual power fills the church. Mental power may j gather a congregation ; spiruuui puwei icmwa i it. Oh ! we know some before whom we shrink ! ] into nothing as to talent, but who have no spiritual power, and when they speak they have not the Holy Spirit with them ; but we know ,< others?simple hearted, worthy men?who speak their country dialect, and who stand up to preach in their country place, and the ! 1 Spirit of God clothes every word with power.' < Hearts are broken, souls are saved, and sin- i i ners are born again. 0, Spirit of the living 1 f God ! we want Thee. Thou art the life, the l soul, the source of Thy people's success. 1 Without Thee they can do nothing; with Thee I they can do everything.?Spurgeon. l figyThe hand of faith never knocked at j heaven in vain. ] (SMitoen'is IJcjrafttMttt. HOW TO GET THE BEST PLACE. I saw a young man in the office of a Western railway superintendent. He was occupying a position that four hundred boys in that city would have wished to get It was honorable and "it paid well," besides being in the line of promotion. How did he get it? Not by having a rich father, for he was the son of a laborer. The secret was, his beautiful accuracy. He began as an errand boy, ana aia nis worm accurately, ms leisure time he used in perfecting his writing and arithmetic. After a while he learned to telegraph. At each step his employer commended his accuracy, and relied on what he did because he was sure it was just right And it is thus with every occupation. The accurate boy is the favored one. Those who employ men do not wish to be on the constant look-out, as though they were rogues or fools. If a carpenter must stand at his journeyman's elbow to be sure his work is right, or if a cashier must run over his book-keeper's columns, he might as well do the work himself' as to employ another to do it in that way ; and it is very certain that the employer will get rid of such an inaccurate workman as soon as possible. I knew such a young man. He had a good chance to do well, but he was so inaccurate and unreliable that neonle were afraid to trust him. If he wrote a deed, or a mortgage, or a contract, he was sure either to leave out something or put in something to make it an imperfect paper. He was a lawyer without business, because he lacked the noble quality of accuracy. Just across the street from him was another young lawyer, who was proverbial for accuracy. He was famous for searching titles, and when he wrote out the history of a title to a piece of property, it was taken for grauted as just so. His aim was absolute accuracy in everything. If he copied a conveyance, or cited a legal authority, or made a statement, he aimed to do it exactly. The consequence is, he is having a valuable practice at the bar, and is universally esteemed. "But," says some boy, "when I become a man, that is the way I shall do. I mean to be very accurate." Perhaps so. I could tell better if I knew how you do your work now. There are several ways of getting a lesson. One is, to get it "tolerably well," which does not cost much labor; the other way is, to get it faultlessly well; which costs a great deal of labor. A boy can get a general idea of his lesson "in a jiffy," but to get it with accuracy is very hard, and requires both time and industry. If you, my boy, to-day are getting your lesson in the slip-shod way, you will grow up a slip-shod man ; but if to-day your habit is to get every lesson with perfect accuracy, I will warrant you will do that way when you become a man. How is it??The IAttle Chief. RAISIN-MAKING. Young people know very well how to eat raisins, but the process by which the fruit is prepared is not quite so familiar. The Malaga raisins (Malaga is in Spain, you know) are among the most esteemed and richly flavored, and these are imported by the million pounds to this country every year. A traveler in Spain describes the process of preparing them, as seen by him, on an estate near Malaga: mnlrtn/v knof voioino o ro I JL lie gia|ico iui ujuaiug buv ucou ittioiuo wi v the long, white Muscatels. The bunches when quite ripe are gathered and spread out upon sloping wooden stands, and allowed to dry in the sun. They are turned when necessary, and covered with matting at night to preserve their bloom. "As soon as they are dry they are carried in baskets of esparto-grass from the drying frames to what are called the packing-sheds. Here men trim and prepare the bunches with the greatest dexterity. "The grapes are never handled, for fear of injuring their delicate bloom ; but are entirely arranged with the scissors, with which the inferior or injured grapes are cut away, and the bunch reduced to the most convenient shape for packing. "These bunches are again looked over and the best are pruned of their smaller grapes and become what are technically called 'first.' Then after having been slightly flattened with the hand and scissors, they are laid in boxes on white paper, three layers in each box. "Ao tKo fruit ia at.il 1 enmawliat rnnnrl it. is packed loosely, so that the topmost layer is a good deal above the sides of the box. The prunings of the 'firsts' and the 'seconds' are now looked over, and all the sound raisins, however small, are collected and packed without stalks to be sold as inferior fruit. "The fruit must now be pressed into the required form. This is done by placing the boxes one on top of another, and the contents jink down in the course of a few days to the proper flatness. The boxes are then foolishly ornamented with gaudy colored show papers of tinsel and lace-work, that cost nearly onefifth the value of the box of fruit. They are then ready to be exported to foreign markets."? Youth'8 Companion. 4.-^1?? A Touching Scene.?Some time ago, in the New York Court of Special Sessions, a boy ten years of age was arraigned for stealing, and pleaded guilty. As soon as he appeared at the bar, his little sister, about nine years old, who was on the other side of the room, commenced crying bitterly, and was about to rush to her brother, but she was restrained by the mother, who was also bathed in tears. Justice Dowling told her to come up, and she ran up to the little prisoner, the tears streaming down her cheeks, and throwing her arras around his neck, exclaimed, while sobs almost choked her voice: "Oh! Johnny, Johnny, what brought you here ?" nnrl thev went in each other's arms. The girl then turned to the Justice, and falliug 11 Dn her knees, held her hands up beseechingly, i1 and prayed, "Oh! Judge, Judge, let ray broth-1 sr go !" The mother stood inside the bar i j weeping, and there was not a dry eye in the | court-room. Justice Dowling, who was deep- j1 ly moved, could not resist the affecting ap-1 peal of the child, and said, "Take him with j ] you, my girl 1" She ran to the gate to meet him, and clinging to him, they reached the f mother, and the three left the court, objects cf the sincerest sympathy, and a sigh of relief ; appeared to issue from every bosom as they . passed out of the room. ? ? Couldn't See It.?The worthy gentleman ' who rules the rising generation of boys in a ( certain town in Tennessee, had occasion re- J centlv to correct a little boy named Johnny. 1 Now Johnny had what is called the sulks,1 ( because he was whipped, and in order to con-!1 pince him he was justly punished, his teacher ( made the following argument: "Now, Johnny, suppose you were riding a ' big horse to water, and had a keen switch in J pour hand, and all at once the horse were to 1 stop and refuse to go farther, what would you 1 Jo?" John stifled up his sobs for a moment, and looking up through his tears innocently re- 1 plied, "I'd cluck to him, sir." ' "But Johnny, suppose he wouldn't go for 1 pour clucking, what then ?" < "TV! crefc flnwn and lead him. sir." ' "And what if he were obstinate, and would j not let you lead him?" "Why, I'd take off his bridle and turn hiui 1 loose, and walk home, sir." \ "You may go to your seat, Johnny." 1 Johnny could not be made to see the neces- ' sity for using the switch. ? I tST* My son, forget not my law; but let thine 1 heart keep my commandments: For length i nf days, and long life, and peace, shall they I add to thee. Let not mercy and truth forsake thee; bind them about thy neck ; write them upon the table of thine heart; so shalt < thou find favour and good understanding in 1 the sight of God and man. Trust in the I Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto 1 thine own understanding. In all thy ways i acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy i paths.?Proverbs. 1 fpSttUattwuis ffeadittg. GO AHEAD. Go ahead?and do not tarry, Nought is gained by standing still; What though you at times mirfcarry, Let not fears your bossom llll. Search the causes of your errors, Gather wisdom from the past, To the wind give the terrors, And you'll get ahead at last. Go ahead?in nseful doings Let your motto be "I'll try He who ever is desparing, Bankrupt hearts and hopes are nigh. What though you and wealth be strangersOnward, upward l>e your aim, And those real or fancied dangers, Soon you'll put to (light or shame. Go ahead?the world reforming, In civil, moral, freedom's name. All those forts and outposts storming, Which your enemies may claim. Yield no bulwark, take no quarter, Compromise no cherished right, Freedom's treasure never barter, But stand for ihem with all your might. Go ahead, then?don't defer it, Lifo's short span soon Hits away; XI ruu u .1111.111 ui ...civ, You must ply your task to-day. Set the ball in instant motion, To keep it going strain each nerve, Nor doubt that ultimate promotion Will yield tho laurols you deserve. Paddle Your Own Canoe.?Young raan, you must paddle your own canoe ! It is, on the whole, better that you should. See that young man who gets in a canoe bought with the money of his parents or friends. When the vessel is launched, he must have it paddled by hired hands, while he lolls back, and perhaps sees nothing but an unsubstantial shadow of himself in thesmooth waters. By and by the canoe, through carelessness and presumptuous steering, is dashed among the rapids, and he goes down. Should he come up again, he finds that he is abandoned by all and that he has made a wreck, where he might have made a fortune. Young manor woman! paddle your own canoe. Even if you are favored with parents and friends who can give you one, be sure you earn it by the worthiness of your lives. In high purposes, in noble resolves, in generous deeds, in purity and virtuous endurance, and blameless conversation, let your endeav i. JJl ?11 uru iu puuuxe _yuur uwxx uuxxue uc awu uj on. Pall away! If the paddle breaks while pulling against the rapids, have another ready. If you have but one, pull with the stump of the old. Don't relax one effort. One stroke lost, and it may be the fatal one. Pull away ! your canoe, if you have built it, like your friends, of the right material in your character, will hold as long as yourself will. Pull away, and before long you may find yourself in as fair a haven a3 the man that "paddles his own canoe." The Home Grandmother.?She is by the fire?a dear old Indy, with nicely crimped and plaited cap border, and old fashioned spectacles?as pleasant a picture of the home grandmother as any living heart may wish to see. The oracle of the family?the record of births, deaths and marriages?the narrator of old revolutionary soldiers, that keep bright young eyes big and wide awake till the evening logs fall to ashes?what should we do without the home grandmother ? How nr any little faults she hides! What a delightful special pleader is she when the rod trembles over the unfortunate urchin's head! "Do you get many lickings ?" inquired a flaxen-haired youngster of his curly headed playmate. "No," was the prompt, half indignant answer ; "I've got a grandmother." Love that aged woman. Sit at her feet and learn of her patient lessons from the past. Though she knows no grammar, cannot tell the boundaries of distant States or the history of nations, she has that perhaps, which exceeds all lore,?wisdom. She has fought life's battles, and conquered. She has laid her treasurers away, and grown purer, stronger, through tears of sorrow. Never let her feel the sting of ingratitude. Sit at her feet. She will teach you all the dangers of life's journey, and teach you how to go cheerfully and smilingly to the gate of death, trusting like her in a blissful nereafter. Public Opinion.?It is Emerson, I think, who said no one need be at all troubled lest the public will not place a right estimate upon his character and abilities, hut that all men are, sooner or later, found out. Few truer sayings have, perhaps, ever been uttered than these. You needn't think that because you are giving yourself airs, putting forth false pretension, false show, and false lights, that you are thereby gulling the public. No, not a bit of it; the public?bless its Argus eyes!?is not so great a fool as you may take it to be. You may talk loudly and learnedly, you may affect benevolence, and all the virtues in the known world?you may put forth a specious show of wealth and importance, or don a gloss of seeming affability and condescension?but unless you really have all of these things, it is of no sort of use. That monster grim, public opinion, has seen you through and through?and weighed you in the balance and found you wanting, and henceforth it is "all day" with you. The World a Tribunal?Man passes for that he is worth. Idle is all curiosity about other people's estimate of us, and all fear of remaining unknown is not less so. If a mauknow that he can do anything, that he can do it better than any one else, he has a 1 1 / .1 1 1-1 A ./? lL-1 A.-* pieage 01 tne acknowledgement ux mui xuui. The world is full of judgment-days, audintoevery assembly that a man enters, in every action he attempts, he is gauged and stamped. In every troop of boys that whoop and run in ! each yard and square, a new-comer is as well ' and accurately weighed iu the course of a few days, and stamped with his right number, as if he had undergone a formal trial of his strength, speed, and temper. A stranger comes from a distant school, with better dress, with trinkets in his pockets, with airs and pretensions. An older boy says to himself, "It's no use; we shall find him out to-morrow."?Emerson. Beautiful Effects of Pain.?One of the most beautiful effects of pain is its tendency to develop kindly feelings between man md man?to excite friendly sympathy on the part of others towards one immediately afflicted. No sooner is a person attacked with j illness than a corresponding degree of inter38t is excited in his behalf. Expressions of jolicitude for his welfare are put forward, iffers of assistance are made, old friendships ire revived, and new ones developed?all this, it is to be remembered, is essentially connected with the sufferings of sickness. Were it ( lot for this, there would be no manifestation i if it. Every man would be left to battle ' with the attack of illness as he could, and no A Icind voice be raised to cheer him in his hours J if solitary gloom?no tender hands put forth J in offices of kindness?no midnight watchers 4 volunteer to attend his bedside. < > t? yi ytt_ j - ? A JOEAUTIFUL L/OMlJAKISU>.? Tr e uu uui [ . wonder that leaves, trees and boughs Lave 1 5ver been the material whereof poets have manufactured comparison and imagery. One )f the most beautiful we ever remember to have seen was by Dr. Cheever. "That tree, full-leaved, and swelling up into the calm, blue, summer air! Not a breath is stirring, md yet how it waves and rocks in the sun- shine. Its shadows are hung lavishly around . it; birds sit and sing in its branches, and chil- ^ 3ren seek refuge beneath them. Human af- j fections are the leaves, the foliage of our being?they catch every breath, and in the c burden and heat of the day, they make music ind motion in a sultry world. Stripped of that foliage, how unsightly is human nature!" At the first battle of Manassas, Mr. ] Drockett Grayson of Alabama was shot in the lead, the bullet entering the temple, passing through the inner ear, and lodging in tne bone 1 lack of the ear, where it remained until last C week, when it was extracted. In eleven years J t had become so firmly imbeded that it had to i le chipped out with a chisel. $ftt ffltMlt inquirer. TEIIM8?IN ADVANCE i One Copy, one year, f 3 00 One Copy, Six months, 1 30 OneCopy, Three months, I 00 Single Copy, 10 Two Copies, one year, 5 00 Ten Copies, 14 44 25 00 $3rTo persons who make up clubs often or more names, an extra copy of the paper will be furnished one year, free of charge. ADVERTISEMENTS Will be inserted at One Dollar and Fifty Cents per square for the first, and Seventv-flve Cents per square for each subsequent insertion-less than three months. A square oonsists of the space occupied by ten lines of this size type, or one Inch. No advertisement considered leas than a sqnare. Semi-Monthly, Monthly, or Quarterly Advertisements, will foe charged Two Dollars per square for each insertion. Quarterly, Semi-Annual or Yearly contracts will be made on liberal terms?the contract, however, must inall cases be confined to the immediate business of the firm or individual contracting. Obituary Notices and Tributes of Respect, rated a? advertisements. Announcements of Marriages and Deaths.and notices ofa religiouscharacter, inserted gratis, and solicited. fSF Personal Communications, when admissable; Communications of limited or individual interest, or recommendations of Candidates for offices of honor, profit or trust, will be charged for as advertisements. CAMPAIGN DISPATCH. A LARGE TUIRTY-TWO COLUMN PAPER FOB ONLY FIFTY CENTS! THE PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OP 1872 IS fraught with issues of momentous importance to the people of the South especially, as well as to those of the whole country. Everybody will desire informatiou of the process of the contest which has just commenced; will wish to note the movements of parties, the discussion of principles, and to receive the earliest news of all events affecting the final result To meet this general public demand we propose to make THE WEEKLY DISPATCH A FIRST-CLASS CAMPAIGN PAPER, and to put the price within the reach of all. It will be sent from the present time to the close of the canvass in November next, at the LOW PRICE OF FIFTY CENTS, when sent in Clnba of five or more addressed to one person. Single copies sixty cents. Besides the political news, the CAMPAIGN WEEKLY DISPATCH will contain all the important editorials of the DAILY; a careful and complete summary of the foreign and domestic news; latest news oy telegraph from all parts of the world; fall and reliaable Stock, Financial, Cattle and general Market Reports; latest Agricultural and Horticultural information ; proceedings of Scientific, Agricultural, Religious and Literary Societies; all important Legal Decisions of State and Federal Courts; reviews of the most interestingand important new Books ; and, indeed, everything of interest to the Family Circle, the Merchant, Farmer, Professional Man, Mechanic and Laborer. The money must accompany every order. Remittances may be made at our risk in drafts, postal money orclers or registered letters. pST- Postmasters and others who get up clubs of ten or more will be entitled to a free copy. Address, COWARDIN & ELLYSON. Richmond, Virginia. May 16 20 tf SEWING MACHINES. m A DO you know that the latest imnjr w. provementain Sewing Machines are zr;?combined in the " AMERICAN ?" Being neat, simpie, J\ substantial in con11 XA rSLlB struction, noiseless II r ^ V /IfwM and so easilv onera jyC ted that a ofiilcl can M \ sU\jhJ work it. It has 110 - 1 equal. Our "Plain Vw J American" will do all kinds of work Vl ? "=r^J that can be done on other Machines, while in several particulars it is superior, and is sold at a lass price than other first class Machines. But our "Combination American" will, in addition, make a perfect button and eyelet hole, and do overseamfng. All persons who think we claim too much for this Machine, are invited to call and see for themselves. Let not prejudice hinder you from getting the best Machine in the market. We are sole Agents for York county. We continue, also, to act as Agents for the MASON A HAMLIN ORGAN CO. Their Instruments have 110 superior for beauty, sweetness of tone and durability. And while they are indispensable to Churches, Sunday-Schools, Ac., they also afford to homes a rational pleasure, ana an easy means for developing musical talent that no head of a family ought to neglect. At the same time wo continue to perpetuate ?our beauty or ugliness, as the case may be, upon aper, Metal or Porcelean, by means of PHOTOGRAPHY in all the various styles. We have now on hand a fine lot of STEREOSCOPIC VIEWS of the Yosemite. Pacific Railroad, White Mountains, Ac.; also, nice ALBUMS, all of which we offer at prices to suit the times. J. R. SCHORB A SON. ESTABLISHED 1857. L. H. MILLER, MILLER'S SAFE AND IRON WORKS, BALTIMORE, MD. SALESROOM: 283 BALTIMORE STREET, (One Door above Hanover,) FACTORY: Square bounded by Henrietta, Claret, Fremont and Warner Streets. " Every variety of the Best Fire and Burglar Proo Safes, Bankers' Chests, Improved Combination Locks, Bank Vaults and Doors. Send for Illustrated Catalogue and Price List. 12,000 IN USE-TESTED IN 200 FIRES. Near References:?National Bank, Chester, Smith and Melton, Chester ; John Agnew A Son, Columbia, S. C. THE PARKER GUN. ; PARKER BRtfS WEST MERIDEN,CT. KING'S MOUNTAIN R. ROAD. DAILY TRAIN. HEREAFTER the trains over the KING'S MOUNTAIN RAIL ROAD will run daily, Sundays excepted) as follows, making close conlection with trains on the Charlotte, Columbia ind Augusta Railroad: Leave Yorkville, promptly, at 61 o'clock, A. M. Arrive at Chester at 81 o1 clock, A. M. Leave Chester at 5 o'clock, P. M. Arrive at Yorkvilleat 7 o'clock, P. M. All Freights must bo delivered at the Depot by t o'clock, P. M., on the evenings previous to the leparture of the train. GEORGE W. MELTON, President. May 2 18 tf tfETALIC BURIAL CASES AND CASKETS. [HAVE jusfreceived a full supply of FISK'S METALIC BURIAL CASES, of all sizes. \.lso a few of those beautiftil full glass BURIAL BASKETS, surpassing in beauty anything of the cind ever offered here. J. E. SMITH, Agent. WOOD COFFINS, of any quality, made to irder. J. E. SMITH. March 14 11 ly [ah m mm mm, MEMPHIS, TENN. Irancli Office, - Baltimore, Maryland. ASSETS, $1,100,000. Ion. JEFFERSON DAVIS President. 3en. WADE HAMPTON, Pres. Baltimore Board. r. D. KENNEDY, 8tate Agent. N. B. SADLER, Yorkville, Special Agent. ^ June 27 28 ly