The Rome weekly courier. (Rome, Ga.) 1860-1887, August 06, 1873, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextThe ^Tieklt Codeiee is issued EEY WEDNESDAY MORNING, JJwmell Editor and Proprietor ' B. P. Sawyer Associate Editor. Thought- i» lee simple Acts at li Ie . it meets usaUve^ tumto^sefthTt the^verageinteUi^nee,incapable of where “but a very moderate reachAf wisdom would suffice, must fail in ai> prehending with due clearness the nat- WEEKLY SUBSCRIPTIONS. TRI-WEEKLY SUBSCRIPTIONS. ontha 2 00 s Months............... 1 00 Terms invariably in advance. ■-To clubs of five or more, one copy will be bed Free. VOLUME XXYII SEEIES-XO. 49 Holiday. The earth is nothing but Sowers and grass, The sky is a light, and the ware is glass. I will make part of the shadowless whole: And be a body without a son!. very amusing incident occurred Sthne last week on the Illinois Cen- oad, west of Dubuque, he train was coming along at the rate " out twenty miles an hour, when the actor came into one of the passenger hes, and took a seat by the side of r-looking individual, with whom he i? fell to conversing. The conductor t discovered that his fellow comrade minister, and he politely listened Kite an extensive and earnest sermon, he minister seeing that his auditor inclined to pay more than usual at- *on and manifest' ye^ earnest heed i advice and instructions, he at once i call to tnake a special and personal al to the conductor, which also he i the most earnest and pathetic lan e, which, coupled with such vivid rations of the final doom of the less and indifferent, seemed to carry |iction to the heart of the conductor, hung his head and appeared to be jitating very seriously, he perplexity and gloom which were cted in his countenance struck the ister as a positive evidence of convic- So he very kindly inquired if he ) not convinced that lie was a sinner [in need of a savior, and added that need not be ashamed to make the ision, as that was a necessary matter s would obtain forgiveness, he conductor, who had not spoken ome minutes, now looked up, and (a troubled countenance said: “My 3, I will tell you the truth. I am in trouble, and know not how to l die danger that seems pending with |imminence.” ere the minister took the passive 1 of the conducter and said: “ That’s my dear sir. Go on, open your t to me. Tell all your trouble and rill be well.” fell, sir,” replied the conductor, explain to you the nature of my ble.” Then lowering his voice as gh to avoid being overheard, he “I am conductor on this train, are running now at the top of our l. We are a half an hour behind and if we increase our speed the ne must hurst her boiler. Scarcely arter of a mile behind us is another l, which is also behind time; and be- a much faster train than this, if do not increase our speed, she will cope this train. This, dien, is my ble. It is only a question whether shall he telescoped or increase our of speed and certainly explode the ne’s boiler. Which shall wc do ? is juestion.” ic minister sprang from his seat, and wing up his hands in the most frantic ner fairly yelled, “ Bust her boiler! heaven’s sake bust her boiler!” e conductor vnnioLoJ Cium the car, ne minister, believing that his last Lents were drawing nigli, fell upon meea, and had just, hewim saying Ids fers when the locomotive whistled l brakes, and the train gradually and Ely rolled lip to the station and came full stop. The minister got off the and was not inclined to resume his ley until the joke was explained, l some muttered sentences escaped which were not distinctly understood, which sounded like that often used kilroad men, and sometimes by con- I leave the troublesome creature bound By hopes and fears that hedge it round; So may I look, for a single day, b life of SI To live unhindered the May; To spring into bloom the clorer root; To feel the sap in the young leaf shoot ; To hive ay honey, to spiead my wing; To work oridlewithany thing ; To slide with the fly on the water’s face. And swim with the fish that follows chase; To feel myself once more as one With all the life that is nnder the snn! But what is sighing about the spot 1 What sound of wind whero wave is not ? Poor wretch ! pursued by all thy cares, . Hast stolen after me unawares ? Go, got thee hack, kind ecul, I pray! Sad or merry another day. I ask for only these few short hours To grow in the light like grass and flowers. But still the poor soul, all undone, Sighs and shivers beneath the snn! I cannot bear that pitifiil pain— The homelesB creature most come again. Alas! the time when I could lie As irco from thought as the open sky Is never from mo, henceforth, I trow; Soul, we must comfort each other now! —Kaic PutnamOsffOod. IDA DELZONS. An Awkward Blunder, happened in a large city—never l what city. There were two pretty i who had married, one an eminent or, the other a distinguished literary The literary man dies, and leaves ’oungest sister a widow. Some years itvay, and the widow lays aside her Now, then, it happens that a cer- author and critic has occasion, on a day in summer, to call on the tent lawyer, husband of the elder He finds the lawyer pleading and ering in a crowded court, sees that lawyer is suffering dreadfully from heat, pities him, rejoices that he elf is not a lawyer, and goes for a aunter under the sheltering trees of hionable park or garden, nong the ice-eating, fanning crowd he meets the youngest of the two and for a moment he thinks he is ng to the elder. Dh! Mr. ,” answered the lady, r dreadful hot it is here ?” fes, madam,” replied our luckless “ it is hot here, but I can assure he heat of this place isn’t a circum- wlten compared with the heat s place where your dear husband is ng to day!” horror-stricken expression comes ‘he face of the lady; she rises from hair and flounces away; and le, miserable!” soliloquized the ched critic, “ I have been mistaking >ne sister for the other, and she thinks an to say that her husband is not in How They Catch Mustangs. i editor of the Pleasanton Stock- nal gives the modus operandi of cap- ag wild horses in Texas, which will loubt prove instructive to many. It he perceived that all the popular ons in which the lasso and fleet ed charger play an important part, t little foundation in reality, i soon as the herd of horses is dis- _ ed, the party of hunters divide, one [ion striking camp while the other off in pursuit of the herd. The ntened animals go bounding across prairie through the prickly pear and le chapparel, leaving a trail which hunters pursue at an easy gati until again come in sight of the herd, ch scampers off as before, hese tactics are kept up by pursuers . pursued for days, the mustangs re- their first starting point — eh they are sure to do — when the ping party takes the place of the , pursuers, and thus follow the herd the poor, wearied, half starved •ups, with swollen and bloodshot , give up the struggle and submit > dnven anywhere, he object of the hunters has been rely to keep close enough to the mus- '*s to prevent them from grazing ration soon brings them to terms, 1 the prairie monarch, with drooping stand deject look, leaves his native ds henceforth to become the slave of n. This is what hunters call “ walk- i mustangs down.” rhe survivors of the “first Manassas” i a re-union in Savannah on 21st. Chapter YI—Continued. An uneasy premonition of trouble, a shadowy disquietude, weighed down the spirits of Pat as he looked after his father’s receding form, as it disappeared through the tangles of the forest on his way to old Gorbeau’s. He mentioned the feeling to Father Chalon, saying, “I don’t know why it is, hut 1 dread for father to go to old Gorbeau’s to-day.” Father Chalon sympathised with the uneasy thoughts of the youth, and he answered, “Yes, it were better that he did not go there at all. I ought to do more to wards restraining him.” “I fear you could not do anything,” replied Pat; “ Father is so headstrong when he takes a notion. But then it is all the fun he can see, and folks must have fun.” “No, no, my child; it surely cannot be fun—not even so much as enjoy ment, but only a blank nothingness, that draws your father there,” answer ed the priest. “I don’t know what it is, only I know that it is killing him. He is not nearly so strong as he used to be, end his sleep is like one dead—he has no more feeling than a log,” said Pat; “ I wish he hadn’t went to-day.” And the uneasy dread came up again. “Why to-day more than yesterday? Have you any special cause for ap prehension to-day?” asked the priest. “Oh, no; only somehow I feel un easy about him. It may be, though, because I have just been so glad think ing of Kattie,” replied the boy. “Eh! That is true vou are saying. Uur leeimgs are always" up and down, joy one moment, sorrow the next—pret ty roses full of thorns!” said the priest, trying to brighten the thoughts of his young companion into a philosophic' cheerfulness; ~ancr we uneu imu our troubles but the after-shadow of a pleas ure rather than the forecast of a sor row. So put away your uneasiness be cause of your father, and look back at the joy because of your sister!” “ Yes, it is a great fortune to have Kattie so well cared for; only, there is this much about it, Father : I fear that it will cost too much, and that I can never pay it back. She must not go if it does,” said Pat. “ No, the cost will not be so great. The outfit and voyage to France will be all. The Superior is a kinswoman of mine, and they owe me that little—I mean the little maintenance of the child until she is educated. I will see to that.” “ What will be the cost of the outfit and the voyage ?” asked Pat. “Two hundred dollars,” answered the priest. Pat started aghast. “ Two hundred dollars! I can never have that much money in all my life 1” he exclaimed. “Yes, but you will. Your young life is strong and it must be brave! If you will he industrious and prudent, and bring me all you make, I can in a few years save enough to pay me back my advances,” encouragingly answered the priest. “ If father could only find a home, too!” said Pat. “ Yes, your father! It is right to not forget him. We will not despair of him, but try to provide for him too—to think hopeful thoughts of him,” an swered Father Chalon. “ And I will go after him this even ing, and bring him home before night I told Kattie that I would go after her, but I had better look after father.” “Yes, do so; and I will bring the little maiden home, and will take sup per with you all, and we will have a pleasant time. Tell your father this, and perhaps he may come,” said the priest. “ I will try and pursuade him,” an swered the bov, with a sober thought of the inhospitable fare he would have to present his guest at supper. Soon after, Father Chalon took his leave; and directly after noon, Pat started to old Gorbeau’s for his father, anxious to get back in time to relieve Kathleen of the care and labor of pro viding supper. The day at old Gorbeau’s had been spent as the days before had been, in a drinking, gaming, querulous revelry. The hectoring Jim Hankins mastering tlie ceremonies and awing all others in submissive dread. The fifty cents to the credit of Mc Connell had been good for two quarts of the fiery poison. This served to create a thirst for more. Others of the party contributed to the bout—one a coonskin good for one quart, one a fox- skin good for a like amount, another a beaverskin, and another an oxhide; all paying their pro raia assessments except Jim Hankins, whose imperial services exempted him from any other obliga tion. “ Come, Button, its your treat! Bring out a quart o’ red eye 1” ordered Jim Hankins, after his flask had been emp tied the fourth time. “ I thort it was Jim Hudson’s time,” respectfully suggested Button. “ What’s that you say, sir?” bristled up Hankins; “ do you mean to insinu ate that I don’t know what’s what, or that I aint fair, or that I’m a fool? Which is it sav? If you do I’myer man 1 If that’s what you want, I’m yer June, hug! So jest-belch it out. Come, no skulking! But jest say what ittis yer want, and FIT accommodate!” “Oh no, Jim—•” ‘‘Don’t Jim me, sir! -I want none of yer Jim! Jim Hankins—Mr. Han-, kins, the bully of Arkansas ! Matty yer-never heard of him ?- If yer didn’t, jes say so, and I’ll interduce ’im to yer!” cried Hankins, towering into a fighting attitude. “ Well, well,—Mr. Hankins, I mean to say—” stammered Button, in his most apologetic tones ; “ I didn’t mean to make yer mad. I only forgot—” “ Forget the devil!” broke in Han kins. “ I’ll have yer to know, sir, that yer can’t cornea forgetting about me! I’m a gentleman, ill let yer know I I’m no sardine 1 T ain’t to be grinned at by vour sort. So jist hold that d d baboon mug of youtn over here and let me .-.mash it for yer.” “ Oh come, Mr. Hankins, you know didn’t go te.- make yer mad. .1 wouldn’t make yer mad for anything in the world. I im the best friend ycu have in the world. I would whip any man in Arkansaw that says you ain't a gentleman! So now don’t get mad, I begs yer pardon, and that’s as fair as I can do. 1 oughtn’t to have done it, I know. Come, come, old fell 1 Give me ; rer hand! Let’s be friends—let’s don’t 3 rave any fuss!” “ Fuss! fuss! Who wants a fuss I’d like ter know ? Show me the man that wants a fuss, will you ? Just trot him out, if yer please. I’ll settle his hash for him! Gentlemen, does any of you want a fuss ? If so just blink yer eye at me and I’ll cook yer gizzards 1 Whoo pee ! hurrah for hell and painter pups! Ain’t I a screamer?” and a yell, wild as the whoop of a Comanche, attested his claims to that distinction. “ Yes, you are a screamer, and I can whip the man that says yer ain’t! ■Whoopee!” responded Dickson Diggs, a burly “ swamper,” who flourished in the shadow of Jim Hankins. “ Who’se that a hollerin’ ? Who told you to holler, you d d muggins you ? I’d like ter know what yer mean by putting in your mouth? Do you mean to take it up ?” thundered Han kins, turning upon the astonished Diggs. “Me take it up?—me? Why no, God bless your soul, Mr. Hankins 1 I never thort o’ sich a thing; I was jist a helpin’ you out” “Helpin’ me out, hey? And who asked you for eny help ? Who said I wanted eny help ? Who said I can’t whip this whole d—n capoodle, with Skunk Holler thrown in? Show me the man ’at said so 1” The man could not be found, and Buttons, who had sneaked off during the timely diversion made by Diggs, returning with the fresh quart of red eye, Hankins subsided into a snllen silence, and the party was soon as jolly as ever. “Now Goss, its your turn. Bring out sardines and crackers for the crowd. I am hungry as a wolf!” ordered Hankins after a few moments. Goss feared his master too much to hesitate, and his oxhide was converted into “sardines and crackers for ibe rowed ” J • —— Eu^mig ur Daa whiskey they added the cramming of rancid and must; 7 food. What wonder ful stomachs they must have had in those days—these men of the West 1 The bait served to stupefy the party into a good humor, and for an hour they had an interval of friendly'slang; an hour, though, was as much os’Jim Hankins could possibly endure; he said, “ What’s that you say, Flippin ?” “ I said its most time for the Buffalo to be down,” answered Flippin. “For the Buffalo to be down, is it? Anc^who cares for the Buffalo, I’d like to know; and what’s the Buffalo got to do with us? Whose bisness is it about the Buffalo? Is it any your d d bisness ? If it is, just say so and I’ll attend to it for you—I’ll see about it 1” “ Oh no, Jim; it is none of my busi ness,” began Flippin. “None of your bisness, ain’t it? — Then why in the h—1 don’t you hush your mouth about it? why do you make such a fool of yourself about it? Buffalo—Buffalo—like there wem’t eny other boat nor the Buffalo on the river!” “ Come, Jim—” “ D—nyou, don’t you Jim me!” “ Mr. Hankins, I mean—” “ You mean, is it ? What is it you mean ?” “ I dident mean; I meant to say—” “Then why in the h—1 dident you say it? What’s the use of always hanging your head like a sick wolf for, and saying you mean—you mean, just as if you wem’t mean enough yourself without always a tollin’ it?” “But, Mr. Hankins, I dident mean—” “Hush your mouth, you chuckled- headed moke you, or I’ll smash it I I reckon I know what you mean, you cowardly cuss! You shan’t call me a liar that way!” and Hankins twitched the. nose of the wretch between his thumb and finger. Flippin submitted, and was inwardly; thankful that his punishment was no worse. After this another silence ensued, not so easy, however, as before. At length Joe Jacques ventured to remark in a timid undertone, “ It looks a little like rain to-night.” • “Well, whe said it dident?” snapped in Hankins. “ Nobody said so. I—I—” “ Then what in the d 1 are you puttin’ in your gab about it for? Who told vou to open your mouth ? Who asked you for your opinion, you d d mulatto puke?” Jacques could not say who, and so he submissively held his peace. “Youcan’t speak, eh? You dou’t' condescend to answer me, do you?” thundered Hankins, catching the luck less Jacques by tiie shirt collar,and shaking mm soundly. “ You can’t speak to me, can’t you, when I asks you a civil question ?” “Please, Mr. Hankins, I dident, mean to make you mad I” whined Jacques. “ Then what did you do it for? You know that I am a peaceable man, and i don’t like to get mad; but when I do git riled I can whip my weight in wild cate—don’t you know it, Josephus ) Jacques?” “ Yes, I know it; you area d—-d—” “ What’s that you say ? Who is that you’re cussing?”-interrupted Harikfitte^ tightening his grip upon the collar hi his victim. “I mean, you are a good feller. I meant a d—-d-good feller!” cried' Jacques, wriggling under the pressure upon his throat. “Then wfr ... like a man?” admonished letting him go with a kick. At this moment Pat made hfe’a pearance in quest of his father. “Father; I-have come for you-r-a you ready ? Let us go home,” he sa: gently addressing his father. “And who are.you?”.said Hankins, turning with a seowlupori the boy. Pat did not notice; the interrnptuSif hnt continued, “Father Chalon will bring Kattie home, and he wants to see vou about her. Please, father, come.” * ~ “Isay, sir!- you gawky son of- a b——h, who are you, and what do you want ?’’ again asked Hankins.', - - • : “Come, Mr. Hankins,' this is my boy—a first rate ehap. I thought you knew him,” said McConnell, rising up and- trying to conciliate Hanlons’ rough humor, : : . . • . “And who told the whelp to come,” askal Hankins. . --> ed Pat, with the^iinsulted blood risfr in him. “ Yon did, ha? then I'll learn fax some manners. - m show you howb answer a gentleman!” cried Han advancing a step towards the boy. “I haven’t spoken to a gentlemai yet,” replied Pat, with a bitter scon curling his thin lips. “ Come, Pal youmustbeciviL Mr. Hankins is m; friend, and he will be yours too,” inter in the mouth with his | “That’s a bully bey with a g in’t it,- myjbvely sweet-smeE uder. How is that for a keep^ at a time, hoys,” said Button, ' Monk back;' “I’m for fair play, a time, and its my time, now. lankins, .you are a sneak thief; a youth and his Opponent. “I care not -for his -friendship; 1 came after you, father. Please let go,” replied Pat . • “ No, not until I whip some of i impudence out of you 1” cried TTor ' 1 ”’ now in a passion. “You had better not try it If touch me with.your hand I will you 1” said Pat, stepping back pace and steadily looking the man u the face. “Hell and furies!” cried Hariki foaming with anger. “Stand out the way, Mac, or I shall knock ydi down!” ’■ “ No, Hankins, you must not touci my boy. You can’t do that,” said Me Connell, his dead manhood resurrectei by the grand presence of his son. j. “What, you—you Irish dog! yoj dare this to me? I will stamp you t} death!”- cried Hankins, springing forward. McConnell met the assault with coolness that awed his assailant, am he paused for a moment before ——- his . clenched, fist to 'strike. “Your day is done, Jim Haiti he said. “ You are a brutal,’cowardly dog, and I am ashamed of myself for submitting to your insults. And now I tell you to sneak off like the'dog you are, or I will strike you to the pound 1” Jim Hankins dropped his half up- 7 lifted arm; his eyes quailed beneath the fierce glance of McConnell’s honest eye, and his knees weakened in dread. “ I don’t care to farther belittle my self with you,” McConnell continued; “ so you can go. I only want to say this, that hereafter bur ways lay on s boys until you have “grown majy; and now I mean to take you to te spring and wash you, and then era your ears for a cowardly puppy anclum you loose!” ‘fiood—that’s right! - bring him alogt” applauded the crowd; arid Hearts Was dragged by the sturdy to the branch and thoroughly diked; and then with a cruelty little than savage his ears were clipped, the wretch dismissed with the de hoots and curses of that crowd ■Inch, an hour ago, he tyrannized ed power. Only a squat- ■oned! (lb be continued.) Tlie Judgment of Paris. - The- Gorilla, the Hippopotamus, and the Snapping-Turtle were once upon a tine partaking of a royal; dinner at the telle of the opulent. old Oyster,- when the conversation tinned upon personal beauty. Each one of the guests pres ent claimed for himself that he alone Was the favorite, among the ladies for his handsome form and. features. As tbs wine had . gone around freely, the dscussion grew heated, and upon the suggestion of the gorilla it was left to thfhost to decide between them. In vain did Mr. Saddlerock (for that was the host’s name) -insist that the Ipoint was too delicate for so humble an idividual as himself to presume to tss upon. “ Nay;” said all three in concert, “ tell i honestly what you think.’. 1 “ But I may offend you,” urged the bivalve. • • - . J“ Oh, that were impossible,” smiled tile Turtle. /“ Quite so,” grunted the Hippopota mus. i ^“ My dear frjend,” added the Gorilla pth a leer,' “ as for myself; 1 am so con- ide-nt of being considered an" Appollo bat I wish for nothing so much as your tandid opinion,” I “ Well, gentlemen,” replied Mr. Sad- erock, since you fdlarrge ine to dis- [ose ,my real sentiments,jl will do so. tellingwitichtof you 11as the ligli- est countenance! In tact, you’d better iraw lots for it" No: sooner had this; remark -fallen from his,lips than he saw his mistake. He ran to the window, jumped out, and vainly attempted to climb a tall syca more in the garden. The gorilla, seiz ing him with a clutch likethatofaviee, ere the unhappy Mr.- opened, and the wicked Dorilla swallowed his body in a twinkle, thereafter asbell to each of the competitors. - . , , ... - .e£ yourself become mixed up with XP.y iJB’lrai gb 0 £offie,' / aricT with a quiet/-them, or.you may get hurt. step the father and his son turned from « t the place and walked homeward. A Mystery. Jim Hankins stood aghast, perplexed, Qn ^ Tuesday evening the bodies of withered. His bravado was all gone: 1* -j 5j_——j -a—- , .. T-Yi - re .ij two men were found, in an a he 110 ^Xid^Sf 0Fd were * w. , . v«. . . , : vttiuncu, Scotty. I who owned the what -was more, he felt ihathis com- bin and Milligan. The body namons fdt it too. He cast an uneasv , ..c . tr. -ij. pardons felt it too. He cast an uni glance around, and the triumphant tool of hatred that laughed in every eye told him that his power was gone. With a sickly grin he said, “ Boys, did you hear that ?” “Yes, we did hear it,” said Diggs, with the air of a conqueror. “ D—n your cornsucking gizzard, we did hear it, and saw it too! Hurrah for Mc- . Connell 1 Boys, three cheers for McCon nell, the bully of these woods—the cock of this walk!” The cheer was taken up by the crowd with such a hearty response that Han kins had no other doubt of the com pleteness of his talL With a desperate effort to grasp at his fallen greatness he looked aroond for the least demon strative of the crowd, and fastening on him as a bumper to break the weight of his fall, he said, “What’s that you say, Monk? D—n you, do you holler for Mac too ?” Monk was a little, puny, dirt-eating, tallow-faced fellow, whom ordinarily Hankins would have scorned to kick, and who ordinarily would have shrank to his knees in dread at the frown of his tormentor. But now the electric manhood that Pat had evoked in the breast of his companions thrilled in his also, and with a grinning defiance he said, i “Yes sir-ee Bob, I does! Hoorah for Mac! and the devil take that dirty hog thief Jim Hankins ( • There’s my ser ti- ment, you crop-eared dog you 1” Hankins fell harder than beftxe. >f Mulligan lay - at the back, side .of the lied, and was undressed and covered up o the .neck by the bed-clothes. Ha lantaloons, and other clothing which he iad taken off npori retiring, lay upon the hair near the feot of the bed.- HjflflknH vaa crushed in by ablow with a bluntjuk itrument, just back of the forehead, and he head had been almost severed from he body. Judging from the appearance of the jody, the m an never moved after receiving he blow on the head. The body of laldwell,* Or Scotty* lay on the floor of be cabin with the head toward andwith- l afoot of the bed, and the fept near a ible, which; with tome shelves anddish- 3 for provisions, occupied the cabin. His throat seemed cut from ear to ear. Ie lay on his back, his head thrown back ward and both eyes and month wide open. He had on his pantaloons, vest, and eith er a roundabout or dark colored woolen shirt. The body of the man, Scotty, was not so much swollen nor so much decom- somwho saw the two bodies stud that^Ufe in it bad not been extinct so long by two or three days as in the other that lay in the bed. Ah ax, hatchet, and razor were found in the room covered with blood, and the contents of the cabin were not disturbed. The theory of the tragedy is that Scotty murdered Mnllipm while he was lying asleep in.bed,, took.what money he_ had aborit him, and then, after remaining about, town a day or taro: and losing his money, concluded as the best way for get- With, a whine almost pitiful in ite pa- rfngoukof the whole trouble to cut his ilina hri fiflin. ® i-r 1 j a. it.:. thosbe said, . “ BoyB, Lsee how it is. You’re all ag’in me! There’s no chance fora fair fight I” “Youlie, you dirty dog, you lie, said Joe Jacques, stepping out; “lean whip you myselfi Bovs, stand off now and see it fairly done.” “Bully for Joel, that’s right! A fair fight and no kicking under the table I Come, form a ring, and if Joe can’t lick him I can,” cried Flippin. “ Now, Jim .Hankins,, come on with your lightning machine 1 I’m your man!” said Jaques, rubbing his clinch ed fist in Hankins’ face. But Hankins’ courage had all gene with his lost power, and he could only simper, “Come, Joe—” “None er yer Joeing,sir! I’m none er yer Joes 1. My name’s Mr. Jaques, Esquire! ITll’am you some manners!” . -“How do.you like that, eh ? Mighty nice, ain’t it? Try another one, there, on your eyel. That’s lovely, ain't it? Oh, you masted sheep-killing honnd you I” “ Please, Joe, or'Mr. Jaques, I mean —listen tor reason. Fm your , friend, now you know I am—” “Ohyes, mighty friendly rimtr; .and that’s why I want ter Pam you some perliteness 1 So try that on yer snout I It’ll do fer a keepsake—somethin’ for his nose. “Arid he’s my fne_. Fve a little keepsake Monk, shoving Jaques i too, Joe, and him 1” said iwn throat He was urged to this, con- tidering that it would be impossible to icep the body longer in the cabin and by fig inability to contrive any good plan of retting rid of it A Toper’s Neat Device. - One of those chronically impecunious ntlemen who unite with' lmpecuni- ity the conviction that the world yes them a living, went into one of the hotels the other day and requested to trusted for a drink. The barkeeper ew his man and entered a respectful gative, whereupon the thirsty soul med around to those inthe room and who'willioan me fifteen emits?” There was silence for a moment, and then the a mount of scrip named was handed to the beggar, who, turning with it in his hands to the barkeeper, said, “Now, t ill you let me have a drink ?” “Cer- t inly,” said that official, and handed out a glass and a bottle of whisky. Mr. Beat poured full to the brim, drank, stnacked his lips and turned away. The barkeeper delicately reminded him that a quid of currency was due for the quo of liquid. Mr. Beat smiled as he returned the fifteen cents to the mger’from whom he had borrowed it with the remark to him . behind the bar, “That debt is the oldest; yours will have to wait a little.” ar‘ w- v->- .■ - Hamlin University, the latest addi tion to She list of thoroughly national institutions, is about to be established ’at St. Paul, Minnesota. The study of .Bacon 'should not be overlooked in the A Seasonable luxury. When our children came down with the whooping-cough the other day, wife and I did not mind it much at first. But I am satisfied now that the whooping- cough is no joke. Wife asked Mrs. Higginson, a dear old disciple of catnip tea and boneset, what was good for whooping-cough? “Children got it?” die inquired. “ Terribly,” replied Mrs. L. “ Dear little hearts 1” ejaculated the kind lady. “ They conldn't have had it in a better time. Jes let ’em have a little lickrish to eat; and they’ll get over it lovely,’.’ This made wife and me glad. Three weeks of the best time to have whooping- cough in have gone by, and oar little ones are dill wrestling with the disease. We comfort ourselves with the belief that the “ good time” cannot last mnch longer, and that little Johnny, who has got it the worst, is certainly going to “get over it lovely.” For a fortnight wife and I have not slept a wink. It is not a tri fling task to take good care of seven children when'they are all afflicted sftn- ultaneously with the whooping-cough. They will kick the clothes oft The thought has come over me with singular force frequently during the last fortnight, as I have stumbled around to the various cribs in the night-time with a bottle of ipecac in one hand and a glass of ice-water in the other, that, in the lan guage of the poet, “ this world’s a wilder ness,” a vale of tears as ’twere. My shins are beautifully variegated in blue, purple and yellow tints, according to the date of the bruises. I notice that jams on the shin follow a regular law. When you first fell over the chair the place looks red and irri tated; then it changes to a dark azure; by Wednesday, a little purple begins to mix around the edges; and finally it assumes a saffron tinge. I watched the development of this law with much interest till the the bruises got too much confused to date them accurately. My east shin now bears a striking resem blance to an old map of the United States, with the Chipago fire, “showing the burned district,” just below the knee, and the Boston fire a little lower down. The most discouraging tl about a tour through the whooping- cough.—that is, “when it’s a good time to have it”—is the joy with which all your friends seem possessed when you tell them, With a haggard look, that all your children are down with it. Mine is a heart that naturally craves sympa thy. I yearn for it But not since my wedding day, eight years ago, have I been congratulated so much as I have since my seven children took the whooping-cough. Every time I go home to my dinner I tell Samantha of some good friend whom I have met, and who says “there never was a bet ter time to have the whooping-cough.” Samantha sheds a sickly smile, stran gles a. little, and tries to look encour- Jesslea. All! bexalifol child, whose ago is told, Not in lhe Boned years of youth, Not yet have the months their cycles rolled. Thy life is measured in day, forsooth. A time may come, alter youth is fled. When the years trill trip with nimble feet, And months will seem as days that are dead, And days as moments, cruelly fleet. If I could but woare, in wond’reus phrase, Thy life as my soul would hare it be, I’d fiU the future with halcyon days; Had I but the rift of prophecy, The gift to foretell, and power so will The light and shade, shower and sun, I’d sing thy life with consummate still, And will it a pure and sinless one. But I know foil well that days will dawn Dreary and dark with brooding woe; Drearier, darker fir bright ones gone ; I would t’were not, hnt it most be so. For the world is selfish, careless, cold; It seeketh for pelf and naught above; It hoardeth traaorcs of gems and gold, Bnt lmcketh the purest, brightest—love. No fabulous depth of atoried mines. No kingly crown of the proudest land, No Orient prinecca’ hair enshrines A scintilfant jewel half so grand. Oh, wonderful gem! a treasure rare! ■ Midas might easy its power untold; For it hath a power to banish care. And it tnrneth heart* of stone to gold. Bnt I have no gift of prophet tongue, No seer's vision of the future time; Yet if thou wilt, while thy life is young, And thy hair nn tinged with glistening rime, Con well the vision Ben Adhem saw, Thine eyes, transported as his, may look To learn that love is the perfect law. And nee thy name in the angel's book. —Stockton Bata. Just before the time Johnnie explodes, grabs his little waistband, oil the rest set np awhoop.andfor a moment my usually Then grandfather, “ aunt Jane,” wife and I go back to-the table again and talk it over, and wife says, “ Goodness knows, I’m glad the little dears didn’t catch it at any other season.” ' And so I straggle on from day to day, in constant reception of hearty congrat ulations that my children are so fortunate as to have the whooping cough at this season of the year, sometimes I think to myself that few people are blessed with convinced that if the number of children in my family had been less the whooping m might have got the best of us, even bis dear, delightful opportune whoop ing cough time. Something Interesting to Planters. . To the Editor of the Selma Times. Enclosed find a letter that may prove of interest to your readers. It sets aside any claim to the exclusive use of Paris green for killing the caterpillar. Any planter can make a compound with u, varying from those that are patented, and apply without paying for the right In this vicinity we are using water, and find this mode equally destructive to the worm. There is "besides little or no risk in applying it, and is a good deal cheaper. One pound of Paris sufficient for one acre. Use a two gallon watering pot, and a smart hand can sprinkle eight acres in a day. H applied with greater care, ljss water will answer. The Paris green is not soluble to any -eat extent and has to be kept in sus- ^ msion by Sequent stirrings. In every caseVhere applied with water it lias killed the worm, and I do -not think it is any more liable to be-washed off by the rains than the compound. Its pe culiar tint can be seen on leaves after light showers, and if the plant absorbs the poison, water is the best vehicle for its conveyance. Yours, D. F. Prout. Demopolis, July 28. Dept, of Agriculture, Washington, July 23,1873. Mr. i). F. Promt, Demopolis, Alabama: Dear Sir,—Your letter of July 12 has been received. There are three patents already taken out for the use of Paris green, in combination with other ingredients, for the destruction of in jurious insects. In 1868 James P. Wil son of Illinois, took out a patent (No. 82,468) for one part of Paris green, and two of mineral paint to be used to kill ito bugs. Lemuel Pagin of Niles, thkan, (patent No. 112,832) claims a combination of fine flour and mid dlings with Paris green and resin, to kill potato bugs, and by Green & Whise- nant of Chapel Hill, Texas, (No. 134,- 959) for destroying caterpillars on cot ton. Paris green one quarter of a pound, lime twenty pounds and flour five pounds. Although Paris green is used in all the above, and although the peculiar combination may be patented, the pub lic can use the green in any other com bination. Parte green one part and flour twelve parts te a good combina tion. I am n Fred. Though this can scarcely he considered complimentary hops, without respect to person. . . - .• Henry M. Smith, managing*editor of the Clucago Tribune, originated the Chicago jubilee and made $600,000 out of it. State Hews. The Columbus Enquirer announces the death of W. B. Martin, an old and highly honored citizen of Gi who died of heart disease on last Sun day. The Enquirer gives the following brief sketch of his fife: He was a native of Virginia, but re moved to his late residence in the year 1830. He was by profession a lawyer, and in his younger days enjoyed a lu crative practice in the county of Rus sell. From 1868 to 1872 he occupied a seat in the Senatorial branch of the Alabama Legislature, being succeeded by Hon. W. B. Harris. At the time of ms death he occupied the position of notary public, and was in his office in apparently good health on Saturday. Almost all of the old settlers in Girara, we believe, have preceded Mr. Martin to the land of spirits; but two or three of the old regime being left. He leaves several sons and daughters—all grown— to mourn his death. The same paper contains the follow- adjustment), the glass would remain steady in whatever attitude you gave it Yet year after year tens of thousands of looking-glasses are made without regard to so simple a need. Presently you go down to breakfast and taking some Harvey or other sauce with your fish, find the bottle has a defect like that which you found in the phial—it is sticky from the drops which trickle down, and occasionally stain the table- doth. Here are other groups of traders similarly so economical of thought that they are not ready to rectify this incon venience. Having breakfasted, you take up the paper, and, before sittingdowmwishto >ut some coal on the fire. But the ump you seize with the tongs slips ont of them, and if large you make several attempts before you succeed in lifting it—all because the ends of the tongs are smooth. Makers and venders of fire- irons goon, generation aftergengfetion, without meeting this .evil by the very simple remedy of giving to these smooth ends some projecting points, or even roughening them by a. few burrs with a cmseL Having at length grasped the lump and put it on the fire, you begin to read; but before you are reminded by the changes of position which your sensations .prompt, that men, still tail tomaket'" 1 -' mg: A colored man named Green Stan ford, bar-keeper at the Sans Souci, died from a brief attack of cholera morbus, or cramp in the bowels, on Sunday af ternoon. He left his business about noon, carried some ice home, drank rather freely of cold water, complained of having a congestive chill, and in some two hours was a corpse. A colored picnic occurred in the neighborhood of Mount Zion church, in Lee county, on Saturday last. We learn reliably that a colored woman at- plunged it into him, from the effects of which he died Sunday night. The negroes of Savannah swarmed on Saturday last in honor of Liberian independence. After buzzing around town for an hour or two, they settled in the custom house, much to the dis gust of their patron saint Adkins. The following items we cull from the Macon Telegraph and Messenger-. Struck by Lightning.—During the storm Lost Friday, the lightning struck a negro cabin over in Jones county. There were nine negroes sitting in the cabin at the time, and all were more or less shocked, though none were serious ly hurt. They were, however, about as badly scared as any set of negroes ever were before. Died.—Thomas Springer, a young man well known in Macon, and an ac tive member of Fire Company No. 3, died on Sunday of consumption. His brother died of the same disease a lit tle over two weeks ago. The fire com pany turned out to the funeral yester day afternoon. The Atlanta Herald having stated that several irregularities lately unearth ed on the Georgia Railroad had depre ciated its stock, the Augusta Chnmhde replies: “The price of Georgia R. R. stock has not been at all depressed by the investigation now in progress. Since the payment of the last semian nual dividend there has been a slight decline, bnt we are assured by parties best posted in such matters that the ‘irregularities’ have had nothing what ever to do with it” Says the Newnan Herald of Friday: Saturday evening last about dark, Crees Combe, (white”) got into a difficul ty with Manse Newell, (col) and cut ntm In the side, of which wound New ell died in a few minutes. The instru ment used was a common pocket knife, the blade of which penetrated bis heart, producing almost instant death. Combs was arraigned on Monday before a Magistrate’s Court, but bis counsel waiving the usual preliminary trial be fore the magistrate, the accused was committed then to his trial before the Superior Court. even the routine of life is.carried onby the mass of men shows clearly that they have nothing like the insight re-' quired for self-guidance in the absence' of an authoritative code of conduct. Take a day’s experience and observe lack of thought indicated from hour to hour. ^^Yon rise^in the morning, tuid, while of whick a little "has been prescribed for yon. But after the first few drops have been counted, succeeding drops run down the side of the phial—all because the lip te shaped with no aim to the requirement Yet millions of such phials are annually made by glass- makers and sold by thousands of drug- gists; so fmmll being the amount of sense brought to bear on business. Now, turning to the looking-glass, you find that if not of the best make,- it tails to preserve the attitude in which you put it; or, if what is called “box” 1 ookmg-glass, you see that the main tenance of its position is insured by an expensive appliance that would have be superfluous had a little reason been used. Were the adjustment such that the centre of gravity of the glass came in the line joining the points of sup port (which would be quite as easy an Hint, ad' seat in placeoi tage, namely, of Just j a soft 1 one—the advan- ; over a large area the pressure of the weight .to be borne, and so making the pressure of the weight an even one, and so making the pressure less intense at any one joint—te an advantage to be sought in • he form of the chair. Ease te to be Rifled by making the shapes and relative inclination of seat ana back such as will evenly dis tribute the weight of the trunk and limbs, over the widest passible support ing surface, and with the least strain- ing of the natural parts from their nat- tended.ngainst the wishes of her bus- m»l attitudes. And yet only nqijtSfc- hapd, _3.Yhfin.pihe ifex.~ udb tanif-imthere neing Yeacnea (alia seized a sharp pointed case knife and not rationally bnt empirically) approx imations of the structure required. —Herbert Spencer. One Hundred Millions ofDallais for a Single Property. A scientific German being convinced that the northern provinces of the Ar gentine Republic must be rich in min erals, some time since came out from Europe for the purpose of making a personal survey of theinost likely local- : ties, and in Rioja has disco . ered what gives every promise of proving to be one of the richest gold mines in the world. The site happened to be on government land, which was at once bought for a mere trifle, and in order to : ng three leagues were also purchased. The next step was to send a frill power of attorney, to Buenos Ayres, and a pro visional transfer titlejias been drawn up in the office of the well-known; Escuba- no Don J. V. Cabral,for.the sale of two leaghes of this land in tavor of Messrs. E. Madero and- E. Castro, for the round sum" of one hundred million currency, quarter cash, arid 'the rest at short dates, with the condition that the seller guar antees, on a moderate outlay, a return of 30,000 patacones daily. Engineers have already gone up to survey the property and report upon it. The re maining two leagues will not at present be offered in market—Buenos Ayres News. The Savannah Advertiser of Sunday has the following: A warrant was taken out yesterday from Justice Elsmgeris office against E. A. Caldwell, a well-known cotton broker. It appears that Mr. Caldwell purchased three bales of cotton from Messis. Farley, Powell & Co., on the 22d inst, with the promise to pay im mediately; in other words, the trans action was wholly a cash one, under stood, as the dealers in cotton always understand those things. Caldwell bought the cotton for the purpose of lating on it. The cost on the bales was $220. The cotton was delivered to the purchaser and sold by him to the parties to whom he bad en gaged to deliver it But Messrs. Farley, Powell & Co. never received their $220. After waiting for the money several days, and making several demands upon Mr. Caldwell, Mr. Bloodwortb, one of the firm, proceeded to Justice Elsingeris office yesterday and made the necessary affiaavit A warrant was issued and Mr. Caldwell immediately arrested. The officer visited quite a number of places with his pnsor— and gave him every opportunity to bondsmen, but not succeeding up to a late hour in the afternoon, he was com mitted to jail. Speaking of the proposed.love feast of Union and Confederate West Point ers, next year, the Newark Advertiser— whose editor was “ in the Mrvice”—re marks : “This comrade-feeling reminds us of the surrender of -the Confederate General Gideon Pillow to bis old friend General A. J. Smith.-—Xt -was a 'touch ing scene. Pillow came hrtwMtmJgom- erv one morning afoot and alone. He sat down on a curbstone and shook the gravel out of his rough artoy shoes, and then walked into Smith’s office, a bank parlor,“to surrender. _ The ’cere mony was simple. He said: “ How areyou, Jack7” The reply was: ?Good God, Gid! is that you? EtawyOThad your breakfast?” To which Pillow feefinMyanswered, “No,arid I haven’t dollar to pay for one.” . Pillow got s breakfast, gave bis parole, remarked that if he could not whip Yankees, he could go back to Tennessee and. raise cotton, and went on his way rejoicing, with. enough money in his pocket to resume his place! as-one of the best citizens of West Tennessee. The Augusta Chronicle and Sentinel asks the public-to read the following with credulity:. . From a letter received in this city sterday, we learn that on Friday, as r. James Bedsole was passing with his team along a road in Hancock county .hauling a stock to Jewell’s mills, near Mayfield, lightning struck a tree near by, jumped from the tree to the Btock on the wagon, ran np the wagon tongue, knocked the off wheel mule down, stunned the saddle mule so that she fell to her knees, killed the tvvo mules in the lead, and gavj Mr. Bed- solo a headache, from which he win Beast Butler, besides keeping poor Massachusetts in hot water about hw own gubernatorial aspiration, is said to M’^rippifor ipg his carpet-bag the Senate. Ames’ fori wane among the negroes of that State, Iy talk.

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The Rome weekly courier. (Rome, Ga.) 1860-1887, August 06, 1873, Image 1