Newspaper Page Text
SCjje
PUBLISHED WEEKLY, BY
<T. T. McCARTY, Editor.
SUBSCRIPTION:
Year $2 00
Srr Months 1 00
In Advance*
Augusta §usinc.sisi £mte.
KEAN, LANDRAM & CO.,
Wholesale and retail dealers in
Foreign and Domes’ : c Dry Goods
209 Broad t., late stand o H. F. Russel & Cos.
AUGUSTA, GA.
a. s. Kean. h. w. landham. w. p. cassels
J. MURPHY & CO.
Wholesale and retail dealers in
English White Granite & C. C. Ware
ALSO,
Semi-China, French China, Glassware, &c.
No. 244 Broad Street,
ATTOUSTA,
T. MARKWALTER,
MARBLE WORKS,
BROAD STREET,
Near Lower Market,
AUGUSTA, GA.
THE AUGUSTA
Gilding, Looking-glass, Picture Frame
factory.
Old Picture Frames Retjilt to look Equal to
New. Old Paintings Carefully Gleaned,
Lined and Varnished.
J. J. BROWSE, Agent,
346 Broad st., Augusta, Ga.
E. H. ROGERS,
Importer alid dealer in
RIFLES, GUNS PISTOLS
And Pockt t Cutlery,
Ammunition of all Kinds,
245 BROAD STREET, AUGUSTA, GA.
REPAIRING EXECUTED PROMPTLY
(Elk.tjn gusiucsa Cards.
G ,
H.IS I'l'i-riv.'ii
STOCK OF FURNITURE
nnd is constantly adding thereto, which he will
■sell at the
LOWEST CASH PRICES
UPHOLSTERING AND REPAIRING
and all work in his line done in a neat and
workmanlike manner. Satisfaction guarantied.
Orders filled for Sash, Doors and Blinds.
My 2 2-1 y _____
LIGHT CARRIAGES & BUGSIES.
.1. W. A l 1.1),
$ AltRI UFA€T ’ R
ELBERTOAi, (JEOUGIA.
BEST WORKMEN!
BEST WORK!
LOWEST PRICES!
Good Buggies, warranted, - $125 to $l6O
Common Buggies - - - SIOO.
REPAIRING AND B LACKS Ml’fHlNG.
Work done in this line in the very best style.
The Best Harness
My 22-1 v
T. M. SWlfc’T. MACK ARNOLD
SWIFT & ARNOLD,
(Successors to T. M. Swift,)
DEALERS IN’
DRY GOODS,
GROCERIES, CROCKERY, BOOTS AND
SHOES, HARDWARE, &e.,
Public Square, EEiBERTOW CJA.
JOHN H. JONES & CO.,
GENERAL
VARIETY STORE,
Always on hand a complete stock ot
DRY GOODS, FANCY GOODS, HARDWARE
CROCKERY, GROCERIES, BOOTS,
SHOES, Ac., &c.
A Specialty of Silver-Upped Slioes
Yfy22-ly
H. K. CAIRDNER,
elberton, ga.,
DEALER IN
MI SSS. SIOCIRIS,
H ARB W ARK, 01?()CKEIIY,
boots, shoes, hats,
* Notions, Ac*
THE GAZETTE.
gt fount ill at (Stents, fndepemteut fit gill Sltings-gtftrtcil to the Interests of the Coimmmittt.
New Series.
ACROSS THE TRACK.
BY FRANCIS HENSIIAW BADEN.
“It is no use, mother, not a bit of of use
to try. You might as well try to catch
and chain the wind in its wildest course, as
to stay Abner Markley in his. Better let
him alone.”
“Don’t talk so, husband, I must, indeed
I must. His mother would have tried to
save iny boy, in the same situation, I
know,. It,may be as you say, but I’ll try
all the same; and if I fail, —tip, no, I mu>t
not fail; I can't bear to use that word.—
Well, l’ll do my duty, and trust to God for
the result,” answered Ruth Mild, as she
wiped away the tears that stole gently down
her sWeet motherly face.
“You don’t think of the danger to our
own boy. If you bring him here, Ruth,
God only knows where it might end; you
forget.” And Abel Mild gla-.-ced with an
anxious eye through the open door into the
next room, where sat a little maiden, the
miniature picture of her mother—fairer and
fresher in coloring though.
“Oh, Abel ! that child, little more than
a baby ?”
“In her sixteenth year, and he handsome
enough to make a girl forget mother, father
and the whole world for him. Don’t do it
mother. It is an hereditary sin, from fa
ther to son ; would you see your child the
wife of a drunkard ?”
A shiver, a cry of terror, and for a mo
ment the sweet face paled. She hesitated
and Abel Mild thought he had triumph'
ed.
“No, God will spare me that, I trust —I
know, and so, I’ll trust him—aye, ‘even
though he slay me.’ ”
“Aud offer your own lamb to the sacri
fice ?” Abel said, in a tone that told the
dark forebodings that pressed upon his
spit its.
Again she faltered and bent, with her
head buried in her hands, as if iu pray
er. Again her eyes were looking into
Abel’s clear, and showing uo doubt in her
heart.
“He knows my heart—its weakness and
its strength ; he will not try me beyond my
power to bear. Ii you love me, Abel, say
no more. Never before, in the twenty
years of our married life, have I murmured
against your will. Now I leel that lam
doing His,” she said, raisiug her eys up
ward.
There was an expression on her lace more
beautiful than Abel had ever seen, even in
those day* when he thought there was not
as lovely a face in the world—an expression
so holy, so trusting that Abel went up to
her, drew her head on his bosom, and kiss
ing her, said :
“May He whom you trust, bless and
reward you, forget what 1 have said, and go
your way which has ever beea the right
one.”
“Thank, you, Abel, you have made me
happier, and now I will go. He leaves bis
office at three o’clock, dines at four; if I
start now I’ll bo there iu just the right
time. He will have fiuished and be in his
room.”
Abner Markley, as Abel Mild had said,
was handsome enough to win the baud of
any woman, lie was sitting in his room, as
Ruth hoped to fiud him ; aud when he
jumped up to welcome her, she thought of
her husband's word.
“What an unexpected pleasure, Mrs.
Mild !” placing her in the comfortable chair
‘from which he had arisen.
“Yes ? I’m glad to find you disengaged.
I have another pleasure awaiting you, see !
Looking over my treasures, I found this
and have brought for you —to give you, if
you wish.”
She held toward hitu a little velvet case
which he hastened to take and open. Ruth
Mild anxiously watched his face while he
gazed on the miniature he held.
“My mother! Is it? Yes. I know it!
—Oh ! thanks, dear Mrs. Mild ; how very,
very beautiful! But 1 cannot remember
her thus: Here her eyes are so laughing,
her lips ready to break into smiles, I’m glad
to have this to look at; for always, when
thinking of her, I can only call up a face
beautiful enough, but oh ! sad, so very sad !
her eyes lookiug as if they had shed
oceaus ol tears, and she once looked like
this ?”
“Yes, my boy, she sat for that in her
wedding dross, u week beioro she became
your father’s wife. 1 was her bride’s-maid
she was the merriest girl in the village
i when your lather won her from us and car
ried her off to the city to live.”
“Mrs. Mild”—he turned his eyes from
the beautiful picture to hers and asked—
“what changed my mother so terribly ?
j Was my father not kind i”
ELBERTON, GA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29,1873.
She hesitated.
“Tell me all, I remember nothing of
father. I have been told I was only
five years old when he died; was it his
death ?"
“No no, but—”
“Speak freely, Mrs. Mild.”
“May 1 ? well it was the manner of your
father’s death which broke her heart; but
it had been terribly wounded before.
Abner, vour mother was a drunkard’s
wife.”
The good woman’s voice had sunk so
low he had to, lean forward to catch the
words; and then started back with a
wounded cry, which caused her to say:
“I’ve hurt you, forgive me.”
“Yes, yes; but go on, tell me all; say it
as you choose,” he said sinking back iu
his chair, and covering his face with one
hand, the other still holding his mother’s
picture.
She talked on, pic uring to him in graph
ic colors, the bride leaving them, so happy,
so trusting; of the first surprise and morti
cation; the dreadful tears when she was no
longer surprised; then the suffering alt
alone —she could confide that sorrow to
none; of hope entering her heart again
when she watched for the “little oue’s com
ing ”
The reformation which brought for a
brief time such holy happiness, as over the
little one’s cradle —the baby boy’s —she
stood with him, she trusted in him again—
again lie disappointed. On aud on to the
violent death she told hint, and then, Ruth
Mild pleaded as only a toother can plead.
And then she finished hy saying : “Yes,
my boy, the last time we met she held you
in her arms and pressing her pale lips to
yours, she said :
“Oh, Ruth, if I could take my darling
with me I would gladly, gladly close my
eyes to earth. But if 1 leave him shall
l ever find him again? Will he come?
Oh God, will my boy come to mo up
there ?”
RuthiMild’s voice was trembling, scarcely
audible as she repeated the dying motU'Yo
words. f / r
Alaor’s bosom was*convulscd —*ritii emo
tion. He did not try to conceal it as he
subbed forth :
“Yes, yes, mother, with God’s help I will
come to you.”
Ruth Mild had conquered. Abuer
Murkley became one of her household, iu
every way she endeavored to hold him firm.
Sweet Alice with her dove-like eyes was a
source of deep aud pure pleasure to the
young man, she was so different from every
other girl he knew —so gentle, so artless and
childlike. Hours that used to be speut in
drinking and club rooms were passed iu
reading to her, telling of the wonders of the
Old World over which he had traveled, or
in singing with her.
Those were happy evenings to all. Fa
ther Mild forgot his fears, as lie watched
the young folks and listened to the beauti
ful music they made. Allie at the piano,
Abner with his flute, aud the old man’s
second self, young Abel, with his violin. A
year passed thus, bringing Abner, as he
felt, nearer his mother. The tougues of
many with their dark predictions had ceas
ed, aud those who had trusted prouounced
Abner Markley saved.
“I wish I could excuse myself from this
party to-night,” Abner said, and little AIHe
asked : “Must you go ?”
“L think so. I did not intend to. I’d
made up my mind to send an excuse, but
the judge came to my room this evening,
and insisted. Y"ou kuow he is our chief,
and it is a respect due to him to accept his
invitation ; but i will uot stay long. There
are some pretty wild fellows going—determ
ined to have a “time,” as they say, but I’ll
slip from them and hasten back to you, my
little dove-eyed Allie. Sit up for me; I
have something to tell you, and something
to beg lor,” he whispered. And then as
she stood in the door he said : “There, run
in out of the cold. I must be more careful
of you, siop a moment, kiss me, Allie !”
She drew back, he knew her cheeks were
crimsoned, although it was too dark to see.
“Mother will not care ; kiss me darling, I
will tell her all to-morrow. Thank you.
Now run in,” he said. And she darted off
to shed a few happy tears, and watch and
wait for his coming.
“God bless her! 1 wonder if mother is
watching over us to-uight ? I wish she was
alive to know my darling,” as the door clos
ed on her retreatiug form.
It was a brilliant throng that gathered in
the saloon of Judge Armstead. Abner
Markley was a universal favorite, and all
welcomed him warmly.
That party was decidedly the party of
the season. The music grand, the supper a
perfect success. How the wine sparkled !
And some of the ladies’ eyes brightened,
I’m sorry to tell, as they sipped the tempt
ing glass.
Abner Markley forgot, for the time, the
dove-like eyes of Allie, as he looked in the
bright, flashing black eyes of a girl whose
influence he had known before.
And when she held to him a glass of
saying:
“How can you resist it ? take it ?” he re
plied, W I could resist the wine, but for you.”
And taking it from her drained the glass
another and another.
The hours passed on, Allie watched and
waited.
Notuutil he placed his tempter in her
carriage did Abner start for home, and
then he had his senses sufficient to know
that he could not reiurn to Allie as he
was.
In the grey light of morning, when little
Allie, weary with watching, had fallen asleep
with her pale face against the window, there
came a slow, heavy tread along the pave
ment. The door bell aroused her from a
frightful dream. She started, con I used and
frightened to listeu.
Strange voices reached her ear, talking
iu awed tones. She sped on to the passage
to catch the words :
“Found dead on the track.”
Down the steps with a wild cry, and be
side the bier she fell; her arms clasped
about the dead—her dead—she cried :
“No, no, not dead ! Abner speak to Allie
your Allie. See ! I’ve waited for you as
you bade me, Abner ! Abner !—Father
has he fuiuted ?” turning her face with an
appealing look toward her father, who
shaking his head sorrowlully, tried to take
her away.
“Dead !” she cried in a tone that brought
tears to the rough men’s eyes, and they
turned off as Abel Mild lifted his dear, dear
child away and placed her in her mother’s
arms.
“1 do wish we had uot had wines last
night,” said'Mrs. Armstead the next moru-
Jjtilg sipping her coffee.
‘•Ptr** ’ "*& kor husband.
“Why, >^‘Y' k 'iiOt notice young Markley
used considerable, aud the effects too ? You
remember I suggested wo should dispense
with it.”
“Nonsense! Give up a social custom for
the sake of one fellow who is too weak to re
sist ! I shall never do it.”
“Mother!” exclaimed Fred Armstead,
rushing in. ‘‘Mother, Abner Murkley
is dead!—found dead across the rail
road track. Goucussion of the brain, they
say.
Concussion of the brain they say ! Can
that decision of the physicians bring relief
to the conscience of those who placed the
wine before him, or of her’s who held it to
his lips? It could not to mine. There
would be a coustant endless whisper of
“murderer” in my ear, sinking to the very
depth of my heart. I would sooner he the
stricken Allie, or Abner, cold aud dead,
than either of the hospitable hearts, who,
tor the sake of one soul, could not give up
a social custom, or the vain girl, whose
thoughtlessness or indifference, to say the
least, won him to death.
A Silent Game. —Scene in a restaurant
at Brussels—Two persons sitting at a table,
face to face; each with a mug of bear be
fore him, each with face resting on his hand,
intently watchiug the table, in profound si
lence. Fifteen minutes passed, when sud
denly one of the parties remarked, “I have
won!” and the other handed over to him a
piece of money. The silence and attention
were resumed, when after ten or fifteen min
utes, the same party made the same excla
mation, and there was another transfer of
motley —and so on for more than an hour.
An impulsive Frenchman was looking ou
and wondering. At last, unable to restrain
himself, he rushed to the proprietor to know
what those two silent people were doing.—
“It would seem that they are playing some
game, but what ? There is absolutely noth
ing on the table but the two mugs —no
card, no dice—what are they doing?”
“They are playing a very popular game
here, was the reply. Each has put a drop
of beer on the table, and that drop, which
first attracts a fly, wins. The one who puts
slyly a little powdered sugar on his drop is
winning all the other’s money.” The gam
bling spirit, and along with it the Heathen
Chinee, creeps o.it all over the world and in
every conceivable disguise.
Ah. Jones, one evening in fly time, hav
ing been pruvokingly lashed in the face,
tied the tail of the cow he was milking very
securely to his hoot-strap. Everything
went on smoothly for a time, and Mr. Joues
Vol I—No. 40.
congratulated himself on the stratagem.
Presently, however,the cow took a notio n
to lash a fly that was biting her, Mr. Jones
chuckled some when he felt the pull at his
boot-strap; but the chuckling was cut short,
for “Bossie,” finding that she couldn’t touch
her tormentor, suddenly started, aud, as Mr.
Jones was not prepared for such a demon
stration, he was upset and the contents of
the pail distributed over his person.
The cow stopped for a moment, and in
that time our hero had gained his feet, in
au instant after he was seen with his hand
on the hip of the cow, making the tour of
the farmyard with prodigious hops upon one
foot. At every hop he would ejaculate :
“So, Boss ! So, Boss !”
But “Boss” didn’t “so” worth a cent. —
At last the boot attachment gave way, and
Mr. Jones returned to the house a wiser if
not a sadder m -n.
For the Gazette.]
A SHORT SERMON.
BY A. C.
“Ye are the temple of God, and the spirit of
God dwelleth in you.” I. Col - ., iii., 10.
The church of Christ is the temple of
God. Built upon the foundation laid in the
counsels of the eternal Jehovah, and minis
terially laid by the apostles and phophets,
even Jesus Christ, who is the chief corner
stone. “Other foundation can no man lay
thau that which is laid, which is Jesus
Christ.” He is the only foundation of hu
man hope ; His true church is composed of
such, and only such, as trust in Him.—
Isaiah, xxviii., 16. Therefore, thus saith
the Lord God : Behold 1 lay in Zion for a
foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious
corner stone, a sure foundation. He that be
lieveth shall not make haste. This is the
stone which was set at naugfit, and rejected
by Jewish builders, which become the head
of the corner; neither is there salvation in
any other, for there is none other name un
der heaven given among men whereby we
must be saved (Acts, iv., 11, 12.) True
believers, both Jews and gentiles, are built
upon this foundation, and are no more for
eigners and strangers, but fellow citizens
with the saints forming the house or temple
of God, a habitation* of God, by his spirit,
(Ephesians, ii., 19 to 22.) This Holy tem
ple is consecrated to God’s service. Each
one to become a fit material It r the building
must be quickened and become a lively
stone, and each and all being united in har
mony, cemented by love, form a living tem
ple, in which Jehovah delights to dwell,
in a higher and more complete sense than
he ever dwelt in the temple of old. (Sec
Isaiah, lvii., 15.) For thus saith the high
and holy One that inhabiteth eternity, whose
name is Holy : I dwell in the high and holy
place, with him also that is of a contrite
and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the
humble, and to revive the heart of the con
trite ones. (See also Isaiah, ixvi., 1,2.)
2. The spirit of God dwells in His people.
Iu each one of His saints. For if any man
have not the spirit of Christ he is none of
his. The spirit of God and of Christ is an
active working spirit, efficiently working in
his people to their sanctification, comfort,
and uselulncss ; as a spirit of life he dwells
in them to quicken and rivive their souls;
as a spirit of light he instructs and illumi
nates them ; us a spirit of liberty he makes
them free from the terrors of the law, and
trom the bondage of sin. Asa spirit of
love, he melts their hard hearts, elevates
their affections heavenward, filling them
with love supreme to God, while they are
made to breathe a spirit of affectionate good
will toward men, and a tender love to their
brethren in Christ. Asa spirit of truth to
guard against all error, and learn to discard
it, in themselves as well as others. Asa
spirit of power to enable them to overcome
the world, conquer Satan, and subdue the
flesh crucifying the old man with his deeds.
Asa spirit of prayer, enabling them to pray
in the spirit, and with the understanding,
leaning ai.d depending on the spirit to make
intercession for them, even with unutterable
groanings. Asa spirit of peace, enabling
them to exercise faith in the atoueuient of
Jesus, and in his righteousuess and
cessions, thus helping them to lay claim to
peace with God, through our Lord J-sus
Christ, and disposing them to peaeo as much
as lietli in them toward all mankind.
Let us all examine ourselves to see if we
possess this spirit in our hearts, aud exem
plify it in our lives. Have we the blessed
spirit of our Divine Master, us a spirit of
love, and power, and soundness of mind ?
If so, we will be led by this spirit to en
throne him in our heart’s affectiens above
all others! We will delight to witness the
honor and glory of His name, the happiness
aud prosperity of his people, the extension
of his spiritual dominion, and the salvation
of the lost all over the world.
Gome Holy Spirit from above,
Now fill each heart with heavenly love ;
Then shall ihjr god-like power be known,
In melting every hear! of stone.
(L be (Lunette.
Cash Rates of Advertising.
lyr. [0 mos. 3 ntos.,l uio.il tiuiw
1 column, $l5O S9O SOO $35 $26
1 BO 60 40 23 16
5 inches, 50 35 25 12 6
3 “ 35 25 15 7 4
2 “ 25 15 10 5 3
1 inch 1 time, $1.50.
TUB LIGHTNING ROD MAN.
He called iu all his radiant beauty and in
imitable cheek. Unfortunately we were in
a healthy condition and he was not denied
admittance. We kuew at ouee that lie was
the lightning rod man—and we groaned in
anticipation of the coming affliction.
“The editor ?” he asked, with a bow.
“No, the editor has just gone out to kill a
life insurance man.”
“Well, lean explain the matter to you.
Being a man of literary attainments, you un
doubtedly take an interest iu science, which
in a few years has covered the earth with
railroads and telegraphs, which has filled
the rivers with steamboats, and the sea with
floating palaces, which has found meaus to
defy the lightning of heaven.”
“We take not the slightest interest in
science. We regard Robert Fulton as au
imposter, Stephenson as a nuisance, Morse
as an unmitigated ruffian, and think that
Benjamin Frauklin should have been tied to
the tail of his owt) kite, and sent on a voy
age of discovery among the thunderbolts.—
He it was who invented lightning rod men,
the vilest wretches that encumber the earth.
A law should be at once passed giving ev
ery man in the community the right to kill
any lightning rod man on sight, or nail him
to the chimney, and stick a lightning rod
down his throat, so that the first sportive
thunderbolt that comes that way should an
nihilate him.”
We were getting angry, but we are mild
spoken in our anger. He now planted him
self in a fthair, as serene and calm as though
we had been calling him a benefactor to the
huuiau race.
“You don’t understand this lightning rod
—it is the most recent invention, unlike
anything before produced. It will yet take
rank with such inventions as printing, the
steam engine and the telegraph. The world
will yet revere the inventor us a bduefactor
second to no man who has ever lived. The
lightning rod is for protecting the persou,
nut dwelling. It is a composition ot India
rubber, iron, aud a chemical known only to
the inventor. It is to be wound around the
body, and run front the crown of the hat to
the boot heel. Lightning will have no pow
er to harm the mau who wears it. The rod
is also a protection againt violence. A man
iu Nevada wore one of them. In a drunken
row he was shot at seventeen times without
being injured, a hatchet exploded and killed
the man in whose hands it was when he at
tempted to strike the man who wore the
charmed lightning rod—that is the name it
bears. He took a voyage to San Francisco.
On the way the train on which he was trav
eling was pitched down a gorge 1500 feet
in depth. Everybody else on the train was
killed, and the cars and locomotive were
dashed to pieces, and he walked to San
Francisco without experiencing the slight
est inconvenience. The man who uses the
charmed lightning rod cannot die by vio
lence —it is doubtful, indeed, if he will ever
die, as no person who has purchased one has
yet died.”
He would have continued, but we inter
rupted him with—
“ You wear one of them ?”
“I wouldn’t be without one of them for
sums untold; would sooner do without food
or sleep.”
“And would it be impossible to hurt you
while you wear it ?”
“As impossible as it would be for a fly to
eat up the Rocky Mountains.”
“Will you wait for us a few moments,
while we give some necessary directions ?”
“Certainly,” was his instant reply. “My
entire afternoon is at your service.”
We went out. and collected all the men
employed iu the building and told them the
circumstances, and each man armed himself
at once. None of them had ever killed a
man, and each was anxious to enjoy thelux
uiy of trying to do so. We got a neighbor
who owns a Russian blood-hound as big as
a Shetland pony, to bring him into the buil
ding. We then marched double file into
the editorial rooms. The man with the
dog led the way. The noise caused the
lightning rod man to turn his head. He
gave one howl and fled through the back
door, followed by a volley of shot and the
Russian blood-hound. We followed them
up Frauklin street aud across the Park to
Broadway. There we stopped But the
blood-hound did not return for two days,
and there was u fiendish glare in his eyes
as though he had been enjoying himself iu
his savage way. We much fear that the L.
R. M. lias been digested ere this. The fate
of this wretched man should he a lessou to
all agents who think of invading the sacred
products of our sanctum, or who try to im
pose upon the credulity of the editor.
“Squirting Tobacco Juice into an Old
Ram’s Eyes” is the head ol a recent article
in the Savannah Star,