Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Bones, Brown * Cos., J. ft I. Bones ft Cos., AUSDSTA, CM. BOMB, GA. Established 1825. Established 1869. BONES, BROWN ft GO., IMPORTERS And dealers in Foreign ft Domestic HARDWARE AUGUSTA GA.. -W"- 33_ V-A-IXa, WITH KEAN A CASSELS, Wholesale and retail dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods 809 Broad st., lat stand of H. F. Kassel ft Cos. AUGUSTA, GA. J. MURPHY A CO. Wholesale and retail dealera in English White Granite & C. C. Ware ALSO, Semi-China, French China, Glassware, fte. No. 244 Broad Street, AUGUSTA, GA. T. MARKWALTER, MARBLE WORKS, BROAD STREET, Near Lower Market, AUGUSTA, GA. THE AUGUSTA Gilding, Looking-glass, Pictnre Frame FACTORY. Old Picture Frames Regilt to hole Equal to Ecu). Old Paintings Carefully Cleaned, Lined and Varnished. J. Jr. BROWNE, Agent. 346 Broad st., Augusta, Ga. E. Hi ROGERS, Importer and dealer in RIK GUNS PISTOLS And Pocket Cutlery, Ammunition of all Kinds, 845 BHOAD BTREET, AUGUSTA, GA. REPAIRING EXECUTED PROMPTLY SCHNEIDER, DEALER IN WINES, LIQUORS AND CIGARS "4 igent for Fr.Sehleifer ft Co.’s San Francisco CALIFORNIA BRANDY. HHDGHI ELIEQUOTT CHAMPAGNE. E. R. SCHNEIDER, Augusta, Georgia. ilbcdon gusiuesis Catfls*. LIGHT J. F. AXTIxD, ®ARBIAGE^ANUFACT’R ELBEBTOK, GEORGIA. • BEST WORKMEN! BEST WORK! LOWEST PRICES! Good Buggiei, warranted, • $125 to $l6O Common Buggies - *iOU REPAIRING AND BLACKSMITHING. Work done in this line in the very best style. The Best Harness My 22-1 v T. M. SWIFT. MAQK ARNOLD SWIFT & ARNOLD, (Successors to T. M. Swift,) DEALERS IN dry goods, GROCERIES, CROCKERY, BOOTS AND SHOES, HARDWARE, &c., Public Square, EEBERTOiV GA. H. K. CAIRDNER, ELBERTON, GA., DEALER IN HIT (IDE MOCIIIB, HARDWARE, CROCKERY, BOOTS, SHOES, HATS Notions. &p. ELBERTON FEMALE Collegiatejiisitt THE exercises of this institute will be resum ed on Monday, August 18th, 1873. Spring term, four months. Tuition, $2.50, $3.50, and $5 per month, according to class— payable half in advance. Mrs. Hester will continue in charge of the Musical Department. Board in the best families can be obtained at from $lO to sls per month. For further information address the Principal H. P. SIMS. THEiIGrAZETTE. New Series. Mrs. Jenks Monmouth. BY AMT RANDOLPH. “House to let again, eh ?” said Mr. Merricombe. “It seems to me Jermyn, that your house is always to let! Do you arrange matters so as to move every year of your life?” “Well, it does seem so,” sad Mr. Jer myn, despondently. “All these houses are built so miserably now-a-days, I think I’ll try a French flat next time. But every one tries to impose on an un married man.” “Serves him right for being unmar ried !” cried Merricombe, with a genial laugh. “Come, Jermyn, take tq,your self a wife, and you’ll see how different the world will treat you. You’re not an old man yet—” “Forty,” said Jermyn, “Past being a young fool—not yet sufficiently advanc ed to be an old one. Not if I know it, Felix Merricombe." “Don’t be a donkny," cried out Merri combe, cheerily. “Spruce up a little— change your tailor, and go in for gener al improvement. I know a widow now, who would suit you exactly —Mrs. Jenks Monmouth; capital housekeeper, sings Scotch ballads, and plays chess—like a man! Not bad looking either. Come to our house this evening, and I’ll in troduce you ?" “No, you’ll not, either!” said Mr. Jer myn, testily. “Shall I send her around to see you ?” mischievously demanded his friend Mer ricombe. “Widows, you are aware, are not obliged to stand so much on ceremo ny!” “Merricombe,” said Mr Jermyn, with dignity, “I don’t know whether or not you’re joking, but I tell you plainly I don’t rogard this as a laughing matter. inquiries as to this French flat busi ness.” Merricombe glanced rather dubiously at his watch. “I have only fifteen minutes to spare,” said he, “but you are welcome to four teen of ’em. “Who is it ?" said Mr. Jermyn, in a dishabille or dressing-gown and slippers, as he peeped over the second-story bal ustrades. ‘-Please, sir,” said Abby, the sour-vis aged Scotch maid-of-all-work, “it’s a lady.” “Ask her to call again at about three o’clok.” “Please, sir,” persisted Abby, “she won’t go away! Please, sir, she says she’ll not be a minute.” “Deuce take her,” soliloquized Mr. Jermyn, adding aloud; “well, well Ab by, I suppose we cannot help our selves.” “I never was so put about in all my life,” mourfully said Abby Macrae.— “This is the fourth one as has raced over the house from garret to cellar, sir. I put the meat down to roast, and— Eh, ma’am ? what was it ye was pleased to be wantin’ ?” “Your master,” was the brisk reply.— “Jemingham—Jermyn—that’s his name, isn’t it ? Tell him I’m Mrs. Jenks Mon mouth.” Her clear, high-pitched voice rose up like the notes of a bugle into the second story front-room, where stood our hero, wrapped in his crimson silk dressing gown, like an ancient Roman in his to ga. Instinctively he backed toward his closet door. Had she then hunted him to his very lair—the scheming, husband seeking widow, of whose mere name he had a vague dread!’ Mrs. Jenks Mon mouth’s self! Truly, the hour and the woman had come! “Abby," he huskily exclaimed, “don’t let her come in! Keep her out at your life’s peril 1” “Master, I can’t help it,” sputtered Abby. “If a lady follows dose at a poor body’s heels, tell me what is a poor body to do? And,” with a fright ened look over her shoulder, “here she is now.” It was true enough. Close on Abby s footsteps followed a brisk little lady, in bombazine and crape, with a. wilderness of bugles sown all over her attire, that sparkled like multitudinous eyes, and a semi-circular glimmer of a widow s cap around her glossy black hair. “Oh,” syd the visitor* nothing daunt ed, but poking vigorously with her par * aiol at the door wjh Mr. Jermyn ELBERTON, GEORGIA* AUGUST 6, 1873* Vol. lI.—No. 15. closed, all save an inch; “you are Mr. Jermyn, aren’t you ? Let me in; I’ve come on business. Mr. Merricombe sent—" “Madam!” exclaimed our excited he ro, “I told Felix Meericombe decidod ediy—” “It don’t matter what you told him,” said the little widow briskly. “I imag ine the matter rests chiefly with me.— Oped the door, won’t you? You need not be afraid, I’m not going to eat you up ?” “No, no, I know you’re not,” said our hero feebly, “but—" “I like the looks of things,” said the lady. “Upon the whole, I might do worse.” “What did you say, ma’am?” said Jer myn, aghast “And I’m not easily suited either,’’ went on the lady. “In my poor, dear husband’s life-time—l am Mrs. Jenks Monmouth—” Mr. Jermyn uttered a faint sound in his throat, which might have been ‘Alas!’ or it might have been ‘Yes,’ or even ‘lack-a-day.* But the lady talked on well satisfied. “In Mr. Monmouth’s lifetime, as I was saying, I was inclined to be a little fastidious, but of course things are quite different now. I must take what I can get, and this,” with a look around the room, “isn’t at all what I am accustomed to." • “No, I suppose not,” said Mr. Jermyn in a mechanical way, while he mentally wondered what would come next. Could he lock himself in the closet ?” No; for the key was rusty; and would not turn in its creaking wards. Could he jump out of the window ? Twenty years ago he might have scaled the balcony, but he was too old and rhumatic-y for that now, to say nothing of the peculiar appe^r jftfll'n Vuu"*' enormous flamingo. No; the only Coarse j open to him was resolute self-defence— Leonidas defending the pass at Ther mopylae, Anderson at Fort Sumter, was placed in such a position. And it was very plain to perceive that no woman could actually lead a man to the altar if he were otherwise inclined. Mrs. Mac Stinger had done it with Captain Jack Bunsby, in the pages of ro mance, but real life was quite a different thing. “Madam,” said he, resolutely, “let me assure you that it is quite out of the question, quite, t couldn’t listen to it, madam not for a second.” Mrs. Monmouth’s little hazel eyes sparkled wrathfully. “And why not?” she demanded.— “Who else do you expect is going to want your old battered ruins!” “Madam!” “Indeed, I don’t half believe I shall be suited myself,” went on Mrs. Jenks Monmouth. At eight hundred and fif ty a year, and the paint in such a condi tion—” “Stop a minute, madam,” interposed Mr. Jermyn. “I—l don’t think that we quite comprehend one (another. You are speaking of—” “Of the house, to be sure,” cried Mrs. Jenks Monmouth, nodding her head un until the bugles on her hat danced and glinted like black dew in the sunshine. “0-o-h?” said Mr Jermyn. “There’s a little mistake. lam not the lanlord. Mr Morely owns the place. You are quite right, ma’am—eight fifty is an exorbi tant rent” Mrs. Jenks Monmouth softened at once. A landlord is the natural prey of the tenant; but, then, Mr. Jermyn was no landlord; only a fellow-sufferer with herself. “A woman—is always imposed upon 1” sighed she. “The water-pipes are shockingly out of repair,” added Mr. Jermyn, confiden tially. “My dear madam, don’t take the house. I speak as a friend.” “And I have so very few friends!” said Mrs. Jenks Monmouth plaintive iy “l know a house in Brewton street that will suit you exactly,’’ said Mr. Jer myn. “You do ?” said the widow, “I wish I knew the owner." “Wait till I get my hat. I’ll go v ith you in a second. I know the landlord. He’s a clever fellow." “Oh, Mr. Jermyn, you are so kind,” purred the lady. Old Abby looked after her master in amazement. # “Well, I never!” said she. “These widows does play the mischief with bacheldores. And he’s one as ought to oldenogh to know better. I’m right down glad the Lord never made me a mnn, Mrs. Jenks Monmonth and Mr. Jer myn went house-hunting. Mrs. Jenks Monmouth professed herself discourag ed. “It is so hard on a lone woman,” said she. “Don’t despair,” said Mr. Jermyn, pressing the little black-gloved hand that rested so confidingly on his arm. “You have one friend always.” Old Abby looked very sour as die waited on Mr. Jermyn that night. “Don’t even know as his chops is burned to a cinder,” said she. I knowed how it would be when that scheming, plotting widow came snoopin’ about the plaoe!” Mr. Merricombe met his friend a month aftefward. “|low are you, old fellow ?” said Mr. Merricombe. ,c i am the happiest man alive !” said Mr. Jermyn. She has promised to be mini 1” “who?” demanded the oblivious Mer ricapbe. “Mrs. Jenks Monmouth, to be sure !” said he. “sh," said the mischievous Mr. Merri coabe, “An American widow, instead of a French flat I admire your good '|||d t'iat is how Mr. Jermyn left off be ing end old bachelor, and became a hap- HOOD AND JOHNSTON. A Correspondent writing from the A1 leghany Springs, Virginia, says: * jhgfc now there are not more than one hufiSred and fifty people here, [though ,qTtarters are engaged] t&diSBS^ ’distin- guished families from the South. Gen. J. B. Hood is here, with his wife and family, which is a thoroughly representa tive one. Mrs. Hood is a tall, elegant and beautiful lady. The General uses crutches, though a wooden leg supplies the place of the one he lost at Chicka mauga, and the strength of his arm is impaired by the wound he received at Gettysburg. Otherwise he is as healthy, handsome and hearty as he ever was in his life. Though only married since the war, General Hood has four of the pret tiest children I ever laid my eyes on— two of them twins—and all so near of a size that it is hard to tell which is the oldest But what astonished me most were the nurses—four nurses to four children; and they all seemed to be busy in fact, to have their hands full. Three of the nurses are as jet black as coal, and are young plantation negresses from Louisiana, while the fourth is an old plantation mammy, evidently a family relic, who will die as she has lived among her old people and her best friends. Many a poor old Southern negro wo man regrets the day she forsook her old owners, when emancipation proved rath er a curse to her than the blessing for which it was intended. Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, now visiting at Abington, has engaged rooms here, and, with his beautiful and accomplished lady, will spend the season here. And this is a coincidence —Hood and Johns ton hob-nobbing it together at the same watering place. Johnston, the most dis tinguished of all the living officers of the late Confederacy, Hood, the bravest and most gallant, who, by virtue of Jeff. Da. vis, superceded Johnston in command of the army at Atlanta and left the way open for Sherman’s march to the sea. Had Johnston been in command the way would not have been so easy, and the ob structions might not have been curious enough to thwart the Lieutenant General Hood’s design. But, I suppose Hood and Johnston will meet as old compan ions in arms. Bygones will be bygones, and they talked over the past as only two distin guished and great officers who have done their duty can afford to do. The negro who was hanged at Suffolk, Virginia, the other day, remarked as he was going to the gallows: ‘T wish dey had put it off till after watermelon time.” You can forbid a man from stepping qh your land and recover damages if he disobeys, and you can shoot him if he breaks into your bam; but if his cow does either, or both, you must keep quiet. LATEST NOVELTY—GLASS BONNETS. Conspicuous among the novelties at the Vienna Exposition is a lady’s bonnet sent from Bohemia, specimens of which, says the St. Louis Democrat, have been imported into this country, and will be generally introduced next fall. It says: “These hats are of the most delicate and beautiful designs, and such is their adaptability to all costumes and occa sions that they will probably soon come into universal use. The body of the hat is made of loose pieces of fine glass, fas tened closely together by a gutta percha band, which allows it to conform to the bead. Inside there is a lining of silk, which is the only piece of fabric used in the manufacture. “The trimmings on the outside are af ter the prevailing mode, consisting of wreath, flowers, feathers and ribbons, all made of delicately spun glass of wonder ful beauty. Of course all the trimmings have their natural colors, and by a patent process the glassy appearance is so well subdued that the material is not suspect ed. The most beautiful humming birds and flowers are used for ornamentation, and colored so naturally that in appear ance they are snperior to the usual artifi cial goods. “It is almost incredible the small amount of glass that enters into the con struction of one of these hats, for the thread is so fine that a great space is covered without any perceptible increase in the weight. They weigh but a few ounces, or about one-fifth of the average weight of the present style. With the care that is usually given by a lady to a new hat, these new articles will outlast twenty of them, for there is no wear to them; moisture will not stain them, and if dust should settle to dim their beauty, it is readily removed by a single spray of water. The colors are so blended that ~ , general neutral tint, but at a small addi tional expense they can be made to flash and sparkle like diamonds, either in the sunlight for a carriage costume, or in the blaze of a ball room, or at the opera. A LITTLE FUN WITH HOPKINS. Some years ago anew fire company was organized at Reading, and the mem bers one evening thought they would have a little innocent fun at the expense of Hopkins, their President. They deci ded to rush around with the engine to Hopkins’s house after dark, to throw up their leaders, pull out their hose, climb on bis roof and scare him with the belief that the dwelling was on fire. BHt that very day Hopkins moved out of the house, and a Presbyterian clergyman moved in, without the company being aware of the change. So about 8 o’clock the humor ists dashed out and went through all the movements, getting on the roof and splashing water around, and creating a terrific disturbance generally. A rival company noticing what was going on, al so hurried to the scene, and without un derstanding the joke, attached their hose to a plug, smashed in the front windows and began to empty a two-inch stream on the family of that Presbyterian cler gyman. They squirted into all the rooms, split all the window shutters with an axe, broke down the front door, ran out the furniture, tore off the shin gles, and bawled through trumpets until the hired girl had convulsions on the kitchen stairs. The first Company tried to explain, but the newcomers thought an effort was being made to get them out of the way, and a fight ensued, and presently firemen were sliding off the roof, and pelting down the chimney, and bleeding over the entry carpet, and hav ing boisterous encounters with spanners and brass horns on the stairs. And the next morning that Presbyterian divine and his family moved out. They said the place seemed to be too animated and sensational for a quiet domestic circle. They wanted a house where there was more calmness and peace; where they could have more security for their priva cy and pianos, and for their front doors, and shingles, and peace of mind, and window sashes. A Pittsburg coroner takes no charge when he sits on a young man who part ed his hair in the middle. He says that his personal satisfaction is enough with out the fee. A Savannah editor says no man who has paid regular y for his newspaper was ever bit by a mad dog. STYLISH SQUAWS. The following is extracted from apam phlet lately published in Nebraska: The Indians who now remain in Ne braska are settled on reservations. A scene witnessed among one of the tribes by the writer, last Spring, he describes thus, in writing to a friend. “Spending some days lately among the Otoe Indians on their reservation on the Big Blue, in South Nebraska, I saw quite a new phase of life. The Otoes are still ‘blanket’ Indians—wearing breachclot and leggings—but neither coat nor breeches. No whites, except Govern ment officials, are allowed to hunt, or fish, or lodge, or trade among them. “Their lodges, dances, games, dress, and general habits, and especially their burial rites, interested me exceedingly. But I am now unable to describe my ex perience in regard to these matters. “For years the Quakers have had the Otoes in hand, and have labored to ele vate them with a zeal worthy of better success than has crowned their efforts. One anecdote told me shows plainly enough that their zeal has not always been according to knowledge. “Last year news came to the Philadel phia Quakers from their Quaker mission- ary among the Otoes, that their squaws were all destitute of bonnets. This des titution horrified the Quakeresses. A subscription was started; a hundred bon nets were bought and straightway dis patched by express to the Otoe Superin tendent Next day after the bonnets arrived, the squaws were all congregated and a bonnet was nicely fitted on the head of each by the wife of the mission ary. But this head-gear was speedily taken off to be looked at and then no Indian girl knew how to replace her bon net the right side before; nor was this the worst of it “But the sequel of the story is not to be understood without a reference to a singular Otoe idea regarding the point of honor, which was first discovered by Major Long on his expedition and coun cils among this peculiar people in 1819. No Otoe brave can sit down between sunrise and sunset without disgrace.— He may lean, or lie, or kneel, but he must not sit, any more than a Moslem may eat between sun and sun in Ramadan. To guard against a warrior’s unwittingly transgressing this anti-sitting law, the dress of the Otoe brave is provided with a ‘crow cushion’ so contrived as to prick begins to sit down. In consequence of this custom, no sooner did the squaws bring home the bonnets than the braves, regarding those articles as crow cush ions, seized them as a suitable costume for themselves, though superfluous for Indian women. The next day the squaws appeared bareheaded, but each warrior was tricked out with a bonnet, not on his head, but as a panier. Nor could any disinterested spectator fail to confess that the fashionable American bonnet, though unfit for a head covering, when worn as the ‘crow cushion’ was enshrin ed in the niche it was ordained to fill.” THE PRESIDENT ON PROPANE LAN GUAGE. On Friday afternoon, before leaving for Long Branch, the President drop ped in to see a friend, who is a well known citizen of Washington. During his stay the daughter of the gentleman referred to remarked that she had heard a pleasant thing about him. [The Pres ident.] The President inquired to what she referred. “I have been told by an officer who served with in the army,"' she said, “that he had been with you un der many trying circumstance's, and that in no single instance, no matter what the provocation, had he ever known you to make use of profane language. I was delighted to hear this, especially in view of the fact that profanity is said to be the rule, and not the exception, among army officers. Will you excuse me, Mr. President, if I inquire if whdt I heard is true?” “It is, I believe," modestly re plied the President; “I have always re garded profane language as unnecessary to say the least; and as I am a man of few words, I have never been able to un derstand the necessity for useless expres sions of the character referred to.” [Washington Star. — ~imf — A sure way for a boy to learn to de spise himself is to speak disrespectfully of his father because he refuses to give bin* half a week’s profit" to spend on fire crackers on the fourth of July. Or, tells him he plight to be studying instead of skating the hours away on long winter evenings. Or, that it is wicked to set two chick ens to fighting and picking each others eyes out?* . .. •< , . Or, that he cannot afford to pay for any more broken' meeting house win d°Or, that school books oost too much to be used for footballs, or whittled and otherwise defaced. ... „„„ Or, that it is not the shortest way to school to go a milp and a half around to the mill-creek fishing- * Or, that chewing tobacco is not proof ° f Or?£t Sticking pins into his sisters elbow during family pray* will not ba allowed.