Newspaper Page Text
C|j£ <6a%ette.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY, BY
J. T. McCARTY, Editor.
——
SUBSCRIPTION:
0i Ysit $2 00
Six Mouths 1 00
In Advance
§utoUsita (tmh.
W. JB. VAIL,
WITH
KEAN & CASSEL.S,
Wholesale and retail dealers in
Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods
309 Broad st., lat stand of H. F. Russel & Cos.
AUGUSTA, GA.
J. MURPHY & CO.
Wholesale and retail dealers in
English White Granite & 0. C. Ware
ALSO,
fUmi-China, French China, Glassware, &c.
No. 244 Broad Street,
AUGUSTA, GA.
T. MARKWALTER,
MAZBLE WORKS,
BROAD STREET,
Near Lower Market,
AUGUSTA, GA,
THE AUGUSTA
Gilding, Looking-glass,Picture Frame
FACTORY.
Old Picture Frames Regilt to look Equal to
New. Old Paintings Carefully Cleaned,
Lined and Varnished.
J. J. BROWNE, Agent,
34G Broad st., Augusta, Ga.
E. H. ROGERS,
Importer and dealer in
RM, GUNS PISTOLS
And Pocket Cutlery,
Ammunition of all Kinds,
£45 BROAD BTREET, AUGUSTA, GA.
REPAIRING EXECUTED PROMPTLY
(glberton Business Cards.
Has received a
STOCK OF FURNITURE
and is constantly adding thereto, which he will
sell at the
LOWEST CASH PRICES
UPHOLSTEBINGANO REPAIRING
and all work in his line done in a neat and
workmanlike manner. Satisfaction guarantied.
Order? filled for Sash, Doors and Blinds.
My22-ly
LIGHT CARRIAGES & BUGGIES.
J. TV. A I I.I),
Carriage toanufact’r
ELBERTOK, GEORGIA.
BEST WORKMEN!
BEST WORK!
LOWEST PRICES!
Good Buggies, warranted, - $125 to $l6O
Common Buggies - SIOO.
REPAIRING AND BLACKSMITHING.
Work done in this line in the very best style.
The Best Harness
My22-1v
T. M. SWIFT. MACK. ARNOLD
SWIFT & ARNOLD,
(Successors to T. M. Swift,)
dealers in
DRY GOODS,
GROCERIES, CROCKERY, BOOTS AND
SHOES, HARDWARE, Ac.,
Pablie Square, EEjBERTOIV GA.
JOHN H. JONES & CO.,
From this day, will sell their stock of
WINTER DRESS GOODS
CLOTHING, CASSIMER-ES, HATS,
RIBANDS, NOTIONS, Ac.,
AT COST FOR CASH.
H. K. _ CAIRDNER,
ELBERTON, GrA„
DEALER IN
MY GOODS. GROCERIES,
HARDWARE, CROCKERY,
BOOTS, SHOES, HATS
Notions, &c*
THE GAZETTE.
fjttmsrt of (greats, |adepeadeut ga fdl Sbings-fcrotrd Exclusively to the fntmsf# of the ffioauauaita.
New Series.
What A Sermon Should Be.
It should be brief, if lengthr, it will step,
Our hearts in apathy, eyes in sleep;
The dull will yawd, the chapel-lounger dose,
Attention flag, and memory’s portals close.
It should be warm ; a living altar coal
To melt the icy heart and charm the soul;
A soulless, dull harangue, however read,
Will never rouse the soul, or raise the dead;
It should be plain, practical and clear;
No fine-spun theory to please the ear;
No curious lore to tickle lettered pride,
And cleave the poor and plain unedified.
It should be tender and affectionate
As his warm theme who vyept lost Salem s
fate;
The fiery laws, with words of love allay'd,
Will sweetly warm and awfully persuade.
It should be manly, just and rational;
Wisely conceived, and well expressed withal,
Not stuffed with silly notions, apt to staiu
A sacred desk, and show a muddy brain.
It should possess a well adapted grace
To situation, audience, time, and place;
A sermon form'd tor scholars, statesmen,
lords,
With peasants and mechanics ill accords.
It should with evangelical beauties bloom,
Like Paul’s at Corinth, Athens, or at Rome;
While Ep'cturus or stern esteem,
A gracious Saviour is the gospel theme!
It should be mixed with many an ardent
prayer,
To reach the heart, and fix and fasten there;
When God and man are mutually address'd
God grants a blessing, man is truly blest.
It should be closely well applied at last,
To make the moral nail securely fast;
Thou art the man, and thou, alone will make
A Felix tremble and a David quake!
In and Out of Love.
How did I know that she was a wid
ow ?
Don’t you give me credit foniny common
sense or discrimination at all ? #
How dci you know that a rose is r.cd ?
How do you know lobster sal.id from sir.
dines ? Jd
I knew she was a widow from the very
moment I took the corner seat in the car,
opposite to her little black bonnet with its
fluttering wreath of crape vail, and the As
trakhan muff that held her two tiny, black
gloved hands.
How I envied that muff.
Don’t tell me of your Venuses, your Ma
donnas, and your Marys, Queen of Scots —
they couldn’t have held a candle to this de
licious little widow.
I never did believe in grand beauties !
A woman has no business over-awing and
impressing you against your will.
And she was one of your dimpled, daisy
faced creatures, with soft, brown eyes, long
lashed and limpid, and a red mouth, which
looked as if it was just made to be kissed.
And then there was a tangle of golden
spirals of hair hanging over her forehead,
and braids upon braids pinned up under her
bonnet, until a hair-dresser would have gone
frantic at the sight.
Just as I was taking an inventory of these
things, in that sort of unobservant way that
I flatter myself belongs to a man of the
world, she dropped her muff, and, of course,
it rolled under the car seat.
“Wasn’t I down on my knees at once af
ter it? I rather think so.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the delicious little
widow.
“Not at all,” I replied. “Can’t Ido any
thing more for you ?”
“No, thank you —unless you can tell me
what time we get into Glendale.”
“Glendale,” I cried. “Why I am going
to Glendale.”
Of course we were friends at once, and
the daisy-faced enchantress made room for
me beside her, “lest,” as she said, “some
horrid, disagreeable creature should crowd
in and bore her to death,” and I stepped
right out of the musty, ill-ventilated world
of railway carriage into an atmosphere of
Eden.
When a bachelor of forty falls in love at
first sight—oh, what a fall is there my coun
trymen. No half-measures, I tell you.
Before we bad been speeding through the
wintry landscape an hour I had already built
up several blocks of chateaux d'Espagnc, in
my mind.
I saw my bachelor rooms brightened by
her presence.
I fancied myself walking to church with
her hand on my arm.
I heard her dulcet voice saying, “My
dear Thomas, what would you like for sup
per to-night ?” I beheld myself a respect
able member of society—the head of a fam
ily-
What would Bob Carter say now—l
meant then !
Bob, who was always rallying me on my
ELBERTON, GA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 26,1873
state of hopeless old-bachelorship, who sup
posed, forsooth, because he happened t(T be
a trifle younger and better-looking than my
self, that I had no chances whatever.
I’d show B b !
“What did we taik about?”
The weather of course, the scenery, the
prospects —all the available topics, oue after
another ; aDd the more we talked, the deep
er grew my admiration.
She was sensible, and so original, and so
everything else that she ought to be !
I discovered that she preferred a town life
to the seclusion of a country residence—so
did I. Who would stagnate when he.could
feel the world’s pulses as they throbled ?
She loved the opera —so did I. She
thought this woman’s suffrage movemeutall
ridiculous—with a bewitching little lisp on
the last syllable—l agreed with her.
She thought a woman’s true sphere was
home ; my feelings surged up too strongly
for utterance, and I merely bowed my as
sent.
Here was a delicious unanimity of soul—
a mute concord of sympathy.
What would Bob Carter say when ho saw
this beautilul little robin lured into my cage
How I would lord it over him. How I
would invite him to “happen in at any
time.” How I wonld—figuratively, of
course —hold up Mrs. Thomas Smith over
his envying head. I uttered an audible
chuckle as I though of these things, which
I had some difficulty in changing into a
cough.
“You’ve got a cold,” said the widow,
sympathetically. “l)o, please, have one of
my troches; they are so soothing to the
throat.”
I took the troche, but I didn’t swallow
it. 1 would as soon have eaten a priceless
pearl. I put it iu my left-hand breast pock
et, as near my heart as practicable.
Her first gilt I
“A bachelor like me is used to such
things^said, in an off-hand manner.
" ec^ m y traveling com
p.li{bo. s ?7©oar me, then you arc not mar
“Unfortuiiatei_.n*qjo.”
“It’s never tod 1 late to mend,” hazarded
the widow, roguishly.
“That is my sole consolation,” I answered
gallantly.
“There is nothing like married life,” sigh
ed the widow, with a momentary eclipse oi
the limpid, biown orbs, beneath the whitest
of drooping lids. “But what’s the use of
my talking about it to you ? You can’t un
derstand.”
“I can imagine,” I replied modestly.
“You must find a wife as soon as possible,”
said the widow, looking intently at the hem
of her pocket handkerchief. “You’re only
living half a life, now. Ah, you caunot
think how much happier you would be with
some gentle, clinging being at your side —
some congenial soul to mirror your own.”
Instiuctively I laid my hand on my
heart.
“Du not fancy that I shall lose an instant
in the search,” I said. “I have already
pictured to myself the pleasures of a newer
existence.”
“Have you ?” The brown eyes shot an
arch, challenging sparkle toward me. “Tell
me all about her.”
“Do you really wish to know ?”
“Of course I do.”
1 congratulated myself mentally on the
fine progress l was makiug, considering the
small practice in love-making that I had
had. Bob Carter himself, with all his rea-
dy tongue aud good-looking fare, could not
have carried on a flirtation more neatly.
“Is she fair or dark ?” questioned the
widow, itith the prettiest of interest.
“Neither —about your complexion ”
“Oh !” laughed my interlocutor, with a
charming pink suffusion over her dimples.
“Is she young ?”
“Yes, about your age.”
“Pretty ?”
“More than pretty—beautiful.”
The widow arched her perfectly penciled
eyebrows. “What a devoted husband you
will make ! And when are you to be mar
ried ?”
“As soon as 1 can induce her to name the
day.”
“That’s right,” said the widow, clasping
her hands over the Astrakan muff. “Be
cause, you know, you’ve no time to lose.”
I sighed ostentatiously. “I am quite
aware of that. You will let me call on you
in Glendale?”
“Oh, certainly, if she don’t object ”
“She’ll be willing, I guarantee. Where
are you staying,” I asked, eagerly.
“I shall be Mrs. Alvern’s guest. Do you
know many people in Glendale?”
“Only a few. lam going down on some
legal business for one or two of my cli
ents.”
“Are you ?”
“Yes.”
And then there was a brief silence.
“Are you acquainted with Mr. Carter,
Mrs. Alvern’s brother?” asked the widow,
presently.
“Yes,” I answered, with a little grimace.
“A self-conceited, disagreeable puppy.”
“Do you think so?” asked the widow,
doubtfully.
“Of course, as does everybody else. So
will you when you meet him.”
“Shall I?”
“A man who thinks because he’s got a
handsome face and a smoothe tongue, that
! nobody else has any business in creation.”
“Dear, dear !” twittered my companion ;
‘ that’s very bad indeed.”
“Of course, he will pay a good deal of at
tention to you, it yo#are to be his rister’s
guest,” I pursued “but it won’t do to en
courage h ; tn.”
“No!”
“By no means. He’s a professional
flirt.”
“Is it possible?” lisped the widow.
And l mentally shook hands with myself
for having thus deftly put a spoke in Bob’s
wheel.
First impressions are everything, and I
certainly had been beforehand with the pret
ty widow. Neither had I any compunction
of conscience, for hadn’t Bob been playing
pntetu:!.jokes of all styles and complexion
on mi, ever since we entered the bar side
by side ?
“Stupid Tom,” that had been his pet
name for me, always; but this wasn’t so
very “stupid” a game after all.
While i was thus metaphorically hugging
myself, the conductor bawled out, “Glen
dale,” and I sprang up to assist my lovely
companion out of the car, cheerfully bur
deuing Thyself with bags, baskets, parasols,
and bulky wraps.
As we stepped upon the platform, I near
ly tuoSbled into the arms of —Bob Carter.
•‘Hullo, Tom !” was his inelegant greet
ing; “You don’t grow any lighter as you
grow older.”
I was about to retort bitterly, when a sud
den change came over his face, as he beheld
the pretty widow behind me.
“Gertie !” he exclaimed, clasping both her
hands in his.
“Yes, Robert,” she answered, with spark
ling eyes aud flushed cheeks. “That gen
tleaan has got my parcels; he has been
very kind to me.”
“Oh, has he, though? Well, we won’t
trouble him any further. I am much
obliged to you, Tom, and we’ll seud you
cards to the wedding.”
“To what wedding?” I gasped.
“Didn’t you tell him, Gertie ? Why, to
our wedding, the tenth ot next month to be
sure. Au revoir. Tom, be careful of your
self for my sake.”
Aod that was the last I ever saw of my
daisy-laced-widow. lor if you think I was
mean-spirited enough to go to that wedding
you are mistaken in my character.
“ DIED POOR."
“It was a sad to me,” said the
speaker; “the saddest I have attended for
many years.”
‘U'i hat of Edmonson ?”
“Yes”
“How did he die?”
“Poor —poor as poverty. His life was
one long struggle with the world, and at ev
ery disadvantage. Fortune mocked him all
the while with many golden promises that
were destined never to know fulfill
ment.
“Yes he was very patient and en
during,” remarked one of the company
present.
“Patient a3 a Christian—enduring as n
martyr,” was answered. “Poor man ! He
was worthy of a better fate. He ought
to have succeeded, for he deserved suc
cess.”
“Did he not succeed ?” questioned the
one who had spoken of patience aud endur
ance.
“No, sir. He died poor, just as I have
stated. Nothing that he put his hand to ev
er succeeded. A strange fatality seemed to
attend every enterprise.”
“I was with him in his last mo
ments,” said the other, “and thought he di
ed rich.”
“He left nothing behind,” was the reply
of the first speaker. “The heirs will have
no coucern as to the administration of his
estate.”
“He left a good name,” said one, “and
that is something.”
“And a legacy of noble deeds that were
done in the name of humanity,” remarked
another.
“And many precious examples,” said a
third.
“Lessons of patience in suffering, of hope
in adversity, of heavenly confidence when
no sunbeams fell upon his bewildered path,”
was remarked by another of the com
pany.
“And high truths, manly courage, heroic
fortitude.”
“Then he died rich,” was the emphatic
declaration. “Richer than the millionaire
who died on the same day, miserable in all
but gold. A sad funeral, did you say ?
No, my friend, it was a triumphal proces
sion ! Not the burial of a human clod, but
the ceremonies attendant on the translation
of an angel. Did not succeed ! Why, his
whole life was a series of successes. In
every conflict he came off the victor, and
now the victor’s orown is on his brow.—
Any grasping, soulless, selfish man, with a
moderate share of brain may gather money,
and learn the art of keeping it; but not ODe
in a hundred can conquer bravely, in the
battle of life as Edmonson has conquered,
and step forth from the ranks of men a
Christian hero. No, no; he did not die
poor, hut rich—rich in neighborly love and
and rich in celestial affections. And his
affairs. A large property has been left,
Vol I—No. 48.
heirs have an interest in administring his
and let them see to it that they do not loose
precious thiugs through false estimates and
ignorant depreciations. There are higher
things to gain in this world than things
that perishes. He dies rich who can take
his treasures with him to the new land
where he is to abide forever; and he who
has to leave all his treasures behind on
which he placed his affections dies poor in
deed.”
For the Gazette.]
A SHORT SERMON.
BV A. C.
“Honor the Lord with thy substance and with
the first fruit3 of all thine increase.”—Prov.,
ill., 9.
We receive all our substance, and all our
increase of substance from the Lord. Should
we not then consecrate it all to him ? Let
us write upon everything we possess, This is
from God. He. gave it all to us. It was
intended to make us holy and happy. If
every mercy comes from God, should it not
lead us back to God in gratitude and praist?
We caunot honor God by a miserly hoard
ing of our substance, nor by a wasteful ex
penditure of it. But in the fear ot God we
may enjoy its use, and at the same time em
ploy it for God’s honor and declarative glo
ry. We can do this by the practical ac
knowledgment that God is the author of all
we have, and worthy of our praise for all we
receive. We should endeavor to employ
our property in his service, for the relief
aud comfort of his poor and the extension of
his truth. We should separate and set
apart a good portion, according as God ha
prospered us, and write upon it. This is for
the Lord. Let this be done regularly and
systematically, and it we have never done it
before, and possess the true Christian spir
it, we will be very apt to be ashamed of our
former penuriousness. God loveth a cheer
ful giver, but he hates covetousness. When
we give let our motive be to honor God; let
our object be to do good, then we will not
fail to be blessed in giving. If we would
reap a bouDteous harvest of good things, let
us not sow sparingly, but liberally. Let us
endeavor to have faith in God, and never
be fearful of taking large stock in his cause
as far as we arc able, for it is the surest and
the best to be found, yielding a good divi
dend in time, aud securing an interest in a
bountiful inheritance in the future. The
teachings of the Bible is surely safe and
true. “He that soweth bountifully shall
also reap bountifully; and he that soweth
sparingly shall reap also sparingly. There
is that withholdeth more than is meat,
(more than is fit and proper) and it teudeth
to poverty.”
While there is that scattereth, (in benev
olent and charitable deeds) and yet increas
eth, the liberal sower reaps a fat and bounti
lul harvest; and he that waters others with
the streams of his diffusive benevolence,
shall himself be refreshed with showers of
rich blessings from the returning clouds of
God’s mercies. Then let us “sow to our
selves in righteousness,” that is according to
the directions of the righteous God in his
Holy Word, and we shall not fail in due
time to reap in mercy. He that serves the
Saviour, aud honors Him, with his natural
substance, God will honor, if not with an
increase of natural substance, yet he will
give him a more substantial and enduring
possession. Let us be rich in good works,
even ready to communicate as God has
blessed and prospered us, then we shall lay
up a good foundation for the time to come.
BAD SPELLING.
Among samples of bad spelling furnished
the Cincinnati Times by a correspondent,
are the following :
Occasionally cases of bad spelling crop
out among the professions, and some la
mentable instances of weakness in this
respect come to light among the “humani
tarians.” For instance, a young lawyer
in an interior city one morning early,
locked his office-door, and left upon it this
rather mysterious legend : “Gone to break
ius.”
In a small New England town a druggist
was surprised and disturbed to receive at
the hands of a dirty looking customer the
following prescription : “Please give the
bara sumphin to fisich him fifteen cents
worth.”
During the war, a letter written by a sol
dier to his sweetheart, was captured,
wherein he said : “We will lick the
confeds tomorrer if goddlemity spurs our
lives”
Rufus Choate, or somcoody else, said the
ways of Providence and the decisions of a
pettv jury are past accounting for. We may
safely say the same t of the spelling of thrir
letters, since a Pittsburg jury handed to the
Judge a communication endorsed : “To the
Cash Bates of Advertising.
lyr. 6 mos. 3 mos. 1 rao.ll time
1 column, $l5O S9O S6O $351 $25
J “ 80 . 60 40 23 15
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
onorable gug.”
The proprietor of a country store once
worked himself nearly into a train fever
endeavoring to make intelligible the follow
ing note baud him one day by a boy who
was without shoes, the son of one of his
customers :
‘mister Grean,
“Wund you let my boay hev a par
of Esy toad shuz !”
However, he was probably 'ess horrified
than the teacher who received a letter from
a man who wrote :
“I hav desided to inter my boy in your
scull.”
The letter which some person wrote to
an editor, when discontinuing his paper con
tains iuternal evidence of the truth of. its
assertions:
“I think folks otteDt to spend their mun
ny for paper, my dad diddent, and every
body sed he was the most intelligentest
man in the whul country, and that he had
the smartest family of boize that ever dug
ged taters.”
“This house for sail,” was the announce
ment a traveler saw nailed over the door
of an humble dwelling in New Hampshire.
He called the proprietor to the door and
gravely inquired, “When is your house go
ing to sail ?"
“When some feller comes along who can
raise the wiud,” responded the man with a
sly twinkle in his eye, and the traveler
moved mournfully on.
Sensible Words About Advertis
ing.—The following is from a financial arti
cle of the Journal of Commerce, New
York ;
People who sit nervously in counting
houses or behind their goods, waiting for
customers to take them by storm, and mak
ing no effort to let the world know the bar
gain they have to offer, will find the seasons
very unpropitious. Many of those who
have spent large sums in hiring drummers,
and paying for other well known appliances
of trade, have effected large sales, but swal
lowed up too large a share of the receipts in
such enormous attendant expenses. The
best remuneration has been found by those
who have returned to the more legitimate,
old-fashioned methods of pushing their busi
ness. We say it, not simply because we are
interested in this line of expenditure, but as
our best advice to all who wish to be enter
prising, or to secure a large custom, there is
nothing now so effective to this end as judi
cious advertisiug. We do not believe that
any one who has valuable service or desirable
property to offer, can fail of a rich harvest
by continuous advertising on a largo
scale.
A Curious Climate. —The climate of
Peru is set forth by a correspondent as ex
ceedingly peculiar and strange. It never
rains there, we are told, but during certain
seasons, and when the atmosphere is filled
with clouds, a ‘dew falls so thick heavy and
continuous that it will saturate the heaviert
clothing in less than hall an hour.” The
coming and going of the clouds that distill
this dew is another strange thing with Peru.
The changes are reported so rapid and vio
lent as to startle the stranger. One may be
walking along the street, glorying in the rich
warmth of the sunshine, and admiring the
deep, clear blue sky, when suddenly, and al
most imperceptible, a change takes place,
“and from the southward a mass of dark
clouds come rolling swiftly across the firma
ment, and soon the blue sky is replaced by
a sombre pall, and to the glorious sunshine
succeeds a drizzling, penetrating mist.”—■
And this is as suddenly changed again, even
while one is preparing to guard against the
mist, the sunlight and sky reappearing in all
their brightness and beauty.
The Arab and the Infidel.— A French
infidel, a man of some learning, was crossing
a desert in Africa, called the great Sahara,
in company with an Arab guide. He noticed
with a sneer that at certain times the guide,
whatever obstacles might arise, put them all
aside, and, kneeling on the burning sands,
called on his god. Day after day passed, and
still the Arab never failed to do this; till at
last, one evening, as he arose from his knees,
the would-be philosopher asked him, with a
contemptuous smile : “How do you know
there is a God ?” The guide fixed his eyes
upon the scoffer for a moment in wonder, and
then said solemnly : “How do I know that a
man, and not a camel passed my hut last
nisrht in the darkness? Was it not by the
print of his feet ? Even so,” said ho, point
ing to the sud, whose last rays were flashing
over the lonely desert, “that footprint is not
of man.”
Fact. —A contemporary puts the matter
which it wishes to enforce in the following
neat simile ; “You might as well attempt to
shampoo an elephant with a thimbleful of
soapsuds, as to attempt to do business and ig
nore advertising.”