Newspaper Page Text
dlbcvton <§usiutjM Cavils.
J. A. WREN,
PHOTOGRAPHIC ARTIST
H&s located for a short time at
DR. EDMUNDS’ GALLERY,
ELBERTON. GA.
WHERE he isprepaied to execute every class
of work in his line to the satisfac
tion of all who bestow their patronage Confi
dent of his ability to please, he cordially iuvites
*(l test of his skill, with the guarantee that if he
does net pass a critical inspection it need not be
taken. mch24.tf.
MAKES A SPECIALTY OF
Copying & Enlarging Old Pictures
J. tl. IIAI(PIEU).
Fashionable Tailor,
Up-Stair*. over Swift (i Arnold's Store,
•ELBERTON, GEORGIA.
BOOTS * SHOES.
The undersigned respectfully an
nounoes to the people of Elberton and
surrounding country that he has opened a first
class
Boot and Shoe
SHOP IN ELBERTON
Where he is prepared to make any style of Boot
or Shoe desired, atshortnoticeand with prompt
ness.
REPAIRING NEATLY EXECUTED.
The patronage of the public is respectfully
solicited.
aa.29-tf G. W. GAIIKECIIT.
H. K. CAIRDNER,
ELBERTON, GA.,
DEALER in
MY GOODS, MOCMIE
HARDWARE, CROCKERY,
BOOTS, SHOES, HATS
Notions, &o
T. M. SWIFT. MACK ARNOLD
SWIFT & ARNOLD,
(Successors to T. M. Swift,)
dealers in
DR V GOODS,
• GROCERIES.,CROCKERY, BOOTS AND
SHOES, HARDWARE, &c.,
Public Square, KLItERTOIV GA.
LIGHT CARRIAGES & BUGSIES.
i>T-
J. F. A.XJLD
(Carriage Wanufact’r
EEBERTON, GGORGI4.
BEST WORKMEN!
BEST WORK!
LOWEST PRICES!
•ood Baggies, warranted, - $125 to $l6O
Common Buggies - SIOO.
REPAIRING AN D BLACKSMITHING.
Work (lone in this line in the very best style.
Tlie Best Harness
My22-1y
ha:nessjiamfacto:y
I J . J. SHANNON,
Saddler & Harness Maker
Is fully prepared to manufacture
HARNESS, pu-jim
BRIDLES, SAI ) DLESj
At the shortest notice, in the best manner, and
on reasonable terms.
Shop at John S. Brown's Old Stand.
ORDERS SOLICITED.
F. A. F. SOBLETT,
PBMTm MASON,
ELBERTON, GA.
Will oontract for work in STONE and BRICK
anywhere in Elbert county [jel6 6m
J. S. BARNETT,
ATTORN E Y AT LAW,
ELBERTON, 6A.
MOSELEYHOUSE
DANIELSVILLG, GA.
D. R. MOSELY, . . . Proprietor.
Terms Reasonable. Special care given to Stock
PAPER lIEES.
JAMES ORMOND, Proprietor.
For Specimen of NEWSPAPER, see this issue of
this paper.
THE GAZETTE.
. ESTABLISHED 1859.
New Series.
A GRAND PRAYER.
1 do not ask, 0 Lord, that life may be
A pleasant road ;
I do not ask that Thou would’st take from me
Aught of its load.
I do not ask that flowers should always spring
Beneath my feet;
I know too well the poison and the sting
Of things too sweet.
For one thing only, Lord, dear Lord, I plead :
Lead me aright,
Though strength should falter, and though
heart should bleed,
Thioiigh Peace to Light.
I do not ask, 0 Lord, that Thou should’st shed
Full radiance here ;
Give but a ray of peace, that I may tread
Without a fear.
I do not ask cross to understand,
My way to see,
Better in darkaess just to feel Thy hand
And follow Thee.
Joy is like restless day ; but peace divine,
Like quiet night;
Lead me, 0 Lord 1 till perfect day shaP shine
Through Peace to Light
NORA'S* DEVOTION.
“Ah, how pretty she is!” h© said;
“was there ever such a pretty lass, d’ye
think, Nora?"
“Perhaps not,” said Nora, and she
took her milking pails, and followed
May, going on before with a light step
and a gay song toward the meadow
where the cows browsed. But when she
was quite out of hearing of Ned Wilton,
sitting perched upon the stile, she mut
tered to herself, “Pretty! pretty! pretty!
Ah, they ring the changes upon that,
these men, as the old bell-ringer that
knew but his one tune used to do, down
in the church tower. Pretty ! pretty !
pretty! It’s never good; it’s never
honest; it’s never ‘true.’ It’s always
‘pretty.’ ” Then she stopped and looked
up, and said, with a quiver of passionate
grief m her voice: “Ob, I’d give the
world just to hear Ned Wiiton call me
pretty! What a fool I am!” and she
went on with her pails toward the cows
—Brown Bess, Lily White and Prqtty
Polly.
Certainly Nora was not pretty, and
what there was in her face the man o
the stile would have been the last to see.
Had she been a queen, many would
have seen something strangely fair and
regular in her face. Had she been only
a rich gentleman’s daughter, someone
might have dreamed of those deep eyes
and that pare brow of her’s ; but red and
white, and fat and dimples, were the
recognized beauties of the locality, as
indeed they are all over the world, to
such folks as her lot was cast among ;
and Nora was spoken of as “plain.”
Two years before, she had taken into ! tr
foolish heal to like Ned Wilton very
much, and Ned forgot the nice girl he
had been so fond of chatting with for
the pretty one who smiled and glanced
at him.
She was not so good as Norah ; she
had not her earnestness and constancy ;
but the face was all to Ned. So May
Britton wore a little plain gold ring that
be had given hex - , and had promised to
be his wife in mid summer ; and Nora
knew it, and, outwardly, gave no sign
that she suffered—only now and then,
aB at this moment when Ned bade her
notice May.
They lived on the coast of Lincoln
shire, and it was years ago. None of
them knew how to write more than their
names. . The farmer’s deepest lore was
the market price of grain. Outside of
them the great world rolled on without
giving them any sign of its existence.
And none of them had ever read a novel
or a poem, or seen a play. But they
acted out the drama just as well, and
Ned loved May and cared nothing for
Nora, and Nora loved Ned and hated
May. And May knew the whole, and
triumphed over Nora and cared a little,
not much, for Ned, because of his broad
shoulders and brown curls.
The girls slept together in an upper
room of the house, and on her wedding
eve May spread out gown and shoes and
cheap white veil, and, dancing about
them, boasted that when the morrow’s
sun set she would be mistress of the
house and Nora her seiwant. And Nora
thinking of the old grand-mother who
had begged her not to lose so good a
place, said nothing, but stood silent,
pale faced and wan, and felt a bitter hate
rising in her heart. Ned was away at
the town, and would not be back until
next morning, the morning of his wed
ding. The old folks were asleep below.
How easy it would be, in the dead of
night, to do this beautiful, boasting
creature some barm—to mar her beauty,
or even to end her life.
The thoughts grew so, and were so
horrible, that Nora could not be sure of
herself. May watching her, saw only a
deadly whiteness creep over her lips,
and, with the first touch of pity in her
heart, folded her veil away, and said,
unwisely enough, but meaning it very
kindly—
“No doubt the next wedding will be
yours, Nora.”
Then Nora, without a look, turned and
left the room. She sought to be safe
from herself, for fiendish thoughts pos
sessed her, and, longing for solitude,
she climbed a ladder that led to the tiled
roof, and seeking the shelter of the great
chimney, sat down in its shadow and
looked up at the sky. It was calm and
full of stars. Its peacefulness had an
ELBERTON, GEORGIA, SEPT’R 8. 1875.
instant influence on her. Repentant
tears began to flow. She prayed as sim
ple children pray: “Please make me
good!” And all the hate for May left
her heart, and her love for Ned—her
yearning, aching love for him—softexied
into a sort of tender memory. Soon,
with her white, well developed., milk
maid’s arms under her head, she slept
upon the roof, under the canopy of the
stars.
At last she began to dream. They
were going to chmch—May and Ned—
and she heard the wedding bells; but
going in at the door she saw instead of
gaily dressed guests, mourners all in
black and a coffin before the altar, and
gave a scream and wakened. Bells were
ringing, but not wedding bells—the bells
that tolled if there were a ly need of the
men of the place —if fire broke out or
robbers were heard, or there were any
rioting in the town. What could it
mean ? Nora listened. A strange, surg
ing sound fell upon her ears. Lights
gleamed in all the houses. The truth
flashed upon her. Years before her old
grandmother had told her how the old
sea.wall had been washed away and a
tid& had risen and swept in upon them
on that wild coast, carrying with it. as it
went out, kine and flocks and little
dwellings, and even land itself; and how
there was mourning throughout the
land for those that it had done to death
—men and women and children—so
that many a household long remembered
it with woe. This had happened again.
The sea wall was down—the flood was
sweeping in. The bells were ringing as
they h .and rung before in the ears of those
who now lay in their graves —ringing to
tell the same tale to those who were
then unborn.
The house in which Nora dwelt was
old, and near the sea—far from all hu
man aid too—and its occupants were
two very old people and two girls. The
only one who could have aided them
was far away and the waters were rising
even now above the windows of the
lower rooms. She could see the star
light reflected in it in gleams and sparkles,
and she knew that the old people must
be drowned in their beds if she did not
wake them. She went down into the
room where they slept and cried out, as
she shook them, -‘The tide has risen
again ! The tide has risen again ! Hear
the bells !”
Then she led them, trembling
weeping in their helpless old f
roof, and found May already croucned
there. She was crying, also, and she
turned to Nora and clutched her arm.
“Will the water rise so Jar ?’’ she
asked. “Shall I be drowned— l who
was to be married to morrow ? Oh, it
can’t be, Nora!”
“Others will go with you,” said Nora.
“There are four of us.”
“But no other besides me would have
been so happy and so proud to morrow,”
May moaned.
The old people shook and prayed, and
cried softly. Nora, calm and silent, kept
watch. The lights floating about told
that boats were out. Help might come
even yet, but the water was creeping up.
it filled the house. It lapped the very
eaves. Still it rose higher and higher.
Those upon the roof climed to the very
apex of its slope, and clung there, but
the water reached their feet, and May
was quite mad with terror when a light
glimmered close before them and a voice
cried:
“Good folks, there’s room for some
here. How many of you are there ?”
“Four,” said Nora.
‘We’ve room for three,” said the voice.
“Is it Wilton’s folk ?”
“Yes.”
Then a stout fellow strode over the
roof and carried away the old woman,
and then the old man, and came bac^.
“We’ll return for the other as soon as
we can,” said he ; “keep up courage,”
and seized Nora’s arm. “In with you !”
he cried, “there’s little time to spare !”
And May gave a scream and cried:
“D jn’t leave me—don’t leave me !’’
Then Nora, in whose heart jealousy
had lighted its fires but an hour or so
before, felt that the angels had quenched
it with the waters of love. She wrenched
her strong, white arm from the grasp of
the man who held it.
“I eave me and take her,” she said;
“I’m Dot afraid—l’ll wait. And she is
to be Ned Wilton’s wife to morrow.
Save her for his sake !”
She commanded, she did not implore.
The man who listened hardly thought
of ner sacrifice. He obeyed. May was
in the boat.
“Keep courage until we come back,”
he shouted, and rowed away.
Nora clung to the chimney side and
kept her feet firm on the roof; but they
were ankle deep now. The water was
rising still. She knew that there was
little hope, but she was very happy.
“Oh, de'.r, dear Ned !” she said, “you’ll
have your love to-morrow. What’s plain
Nora to any one ? Who’ll miss her but
a poor old woman who'll follow her
soon 1 But she, May, is half your life,
Ned. Oh, God be thanked that I can
give myself for May for your sake !”
And in the starlight her face shone
calm, and sweet, and happy, as the water
arose toward it. At last her feet lost
their hold, and her strength was gone.
She was lifted and whirled away; the
long brown hair, unloosened, swept far
behind her; the marble face gleamed
through rings of water that the starlight
made a halo of. A voice sobbing through
if said, “Ned! Ned ! darling Nod, good
bye !” and there was nothing to be seen
but the flood still rising and the sky
spread out above it.
On the morrow Nora Abbot’s body
was found lyiflg close to the old church
whence by that time the water had re
treated. And Ned and May, amrng
others, cafne to see. May wept. Ned
stood quiet, but with a strange regret
in his bine eyes. The story of her sac
rifice had thrilled his heart. He looked
down at her face, on which the beauty
of her beautiful love and unselfishness
had rested in her dying moments, leaving
an angelic smile upon the marble lips,
and said, in a dreamy way:
“May, she was pretty. I never knew
Nora Abbot was pretty before.”
’ And then ho kissed her.
Miss de Vergas, says a Calcutta paper,
wishes to be married—nothing very ex
traordinary in that— but the manner in
which she proposes to accomplish her
design is curious. Donna Pepa de Ver
gas offers herself as the prize of a lottery
for the sum of one lac of 100,000 rupees,
upon the following conditions: (1)
Twenty two thousand tickets at five
rupees each. (2) The takers of tickets
are simply to send in their names, the
amount of their subscription to be col
lected when the snm mentioned has been
subscribed for. (3) The lottery to take
place at a date to be hereafter announced,
at the hall, Calcutta, and to be
drawn and conducted by Miss de Vergas.
(4) The owner of the winning number
will have the option of one of the follow
ing choices: (a) To marry Miss de Ver
gas and share with her—on the principle
of community of goods—her fortune of
one lac of rupees, (b) Or, in the case
of refusing the marriage, the sum of
50,000 rupees will be paid to him, Miss
de Vergas retaining to herself 50,000
rupees, (c) Miss de Vergas reserves to
herself the right of refusing to marry
the owner of the winning number should
he prove to be a person she would not
care to espouse. In that case the win
ner will be paid the sum of 50,000
rupees. She is a young lady of birth,
of noble family, well educated—she
speaks Spanish, French and a little
English—clever, and a brilliant beauty.
Parricide in North Carolina.— On
Friday night last the residence of Eli
Coleman, in Columbus county, N. C.,
was discovered to be in flames. Mr
Coleman was a widower, living alone
with two children, a boy aged sev
enteen and a girl aged fourteen. The
neighbors hurried to the scene of the
conflagration, when it was discovered that
the boy and his sister had escaped and
saved most of the property, but that their
father had been burned with the build
ing. Suspicion rested upon the children,
and they were privately examined, when
the boy confessed that he shot and killed
his father while the latter was lying in
his bed asleep, after which he got most
of the property out of the house and
then fired it. The girl stated that at mid
night her brother waked her up and told
her he was going to kill their father with
a gun which he held in his haud. She
begged him not do so, but be carried
out bis threat by walking up near the
bed where their father was lying and
shooting the load through his head,
killing him instantly. The girl says she
was standing in the door when her
brother shot her father, and she never
saw him move after the gun was fired.
They then carried nearly all their things
out of the house, and the boy fired it in
two places and she in one. They re
mained by the house until the top com
menced falling in before they made any
outcry about the fire or anything else.
The children were both committed to
jail. No reason was assigned by the
boy for the commission of the fearful
deed.
A Chicago reporter, during a recent
church dedication in that city, got close
enough to the presiding minister to be
able to abstract from his coat tail pocket
a roll of manuscript, and the audience
were edified in the midst of the eloquent
prayer by the spectacle of a reverend
gentleman pawing the air, stuttering
and stammering for words to express
his thoughts, and looking all the time
as if he fully realized the tyranny of the
fates that prevented him from indulging
in a good, old-fashioned swear.
Closing Cracks in Cast Iron Stoves
Good wood ashes are to be sifted
through a fine seivo, to which is to be
added the same quantity of clay finely
pulverized, together with a little salt.
The mixture is to be moistened with wa
ter enough to make a paste, and the
ciack of the stove filled with it. The
cement does not peel off - or break away,
and assumes an- extreme degreejof hard
ness after being heated. The stove must
be cool when the application is made.
The same substance may be used in set
ting stove pipes, serving to render all
the joints perfectly tight.
The Savannah Advertiser reports that
“eleven countrymen/' who had put their
carts and wagons in the wagonyard ofEllar
bee & Sutton in that city, and who slept in
the back piazza aod baseincut of the build
ing on the same lot, had tlieir money taken
from their pockets during the night of the
18th ult. Their aggregate loss was over
S4OO. It is supposed that chloroform
must have been used, as it is improbable
that all of them would otherwise have slept
souudly while the thief was searching their
pockets. Two men lately from New York
were suspected.
The organ committee made its weekly
report last Sunday.
Vol. IV.-ISTo. 19.
UNJUST DISCRIMINATION BY THE FED
ERAL GOVERNMENT.
It is an established fact, we believe,
that in this country one man is as good
as another; but it is not so evident that
one St te is as good as another. Here,
for instance, is Illinois. It is a large
State, a fertile State, a populous State, a
wealthy State. It is the State from
which General Grant entered the army
in 1861. It is the State from which
he appointed his excellent Minister to
France. It is the State which contains
General Logan. It is, on all these and
many other a'mjunts, a State which does
not deserve at the hands of the Federal
Government such a grave and offensive
slight as has been and is put upon it.
We speak of the matter with pain, but
in the public interest we can remain
silent no longer.
Ku-Klux have raged in Franklin and
Williamson counties, in Illinois, not
merely for weeks or months, but for two
years. “Shrouded sharpshooters” defy
justice, and murder and intimidate at
their own ferocious wills. The law offi
cers of the county and State are, or seem
to be, unable to check violence or to
punish murder and rapine; and yet we
do not hear of Federal interference.
General Grant remains unconcerned
at Long Branch, while the laws are de
fied by masked murderers in his favorite
State. There is no proclamation warn
ing these Illinois Ku-Klux to disperse.
There is no summons of troops to go to
the scene of long-continued bloodshed.
The President, so prompt to interpose
his strong arm in South Carolina or
Louisiana or Mississippi, so eager to in
terfere in Arkansas in the cause of peace
and order, is utterly neglectful of Illi
nois. Why is this ? Are the people of
Illinois not as good as those of Arkansas
and Louisiana? Must men now-a days
live south of Mason & Dixon’s line to be
entitled to the favorable notice of the
Federal Government? Have Northern
or Northwestern men no rights that the
President is bound to enforce with Fed
eral bayonets ? Are Ku-Klux to be de
stroyed in the South and to be encour
aged in the North only? And if so,
why ? This is a matter which touches
the pride of States and of sections. As
Northern men we cannot see with pa
tience such gross and long-continued
favoritism on the part of the Federal
government towards the South.
[New York Herald.
Jes so.
CONFEDERATES IN CONGRESS.
Many Northern papers, particularly
the irreconcilables, are bracing them
selves to combat a troop of horrors be
cause they have counted some eighty
Confederate officers who are members
and members elect of the next Congress.
Herein they display a plentiful lack of
judgment and correct information. Sup
posing that the eighty are all real soldiers
and officers of the Confederate army,
proper, they are, as a class, the most
conservative as well as the most liberal
delegates the South could send to Wash
ington. Having walked the whole coun
try over, and met the citizen soldiery of
all parts of the North on the field, they
have a much clearer and broader knowl
edge of the people of both sections than
the stay-at home and still bitter provin
cial. By their hard experience they
gained a tolerance of the contrary opin
ion which is wholly wanting in the camp
followers and non combatants who now
constitute the Howling Idiots of the
South. The disciplined manhood of the
Confederate soldier is as much superior
to the provincial narrowness of many
civilians as an army is superior to a mob.
The Howling Idiots of the Northern
press would have had nothing to say if
we had forwarded eighty obscure non
combatants to Washington instead of
eighty soldiers, honorably distinguished
on the field. Yet, had such been the
case, the chances are that the eighty
civilians would have been rabid to a
degree which would have driven the
aforesaid newspapers to distraction,
while it is certain that the eighty sol
diers will, with few exceptions, be notice
able for their marked conservatism,
moderation and prudence. Certainly
there is no class in the South better
qualified to handle wisely the delicate
questions likely to come before Congress.
We therefore say to our Northern friends,
do not remain plunged in deep despair
on accout of those eighty soldiers. They
are all right and only want to investi
gate a little and see what has been going
on.—N. O. Times.
Staunton (Ya.) Vindicator: The old
est active volunteer in the Confederate
service was Jimmy Barretts, a little
Irishman now ninety-seven years old,
and who only weighs 106 pounds, and is
only four feet eight inches high. The
old man enlisted in the brigade com
manded by Gen. Bowen, afterwards a
member of Congress from Tazewell
county, Virginia district, and now lives
on the farm of his old commander
in Tazewell. He is in perfect health,
and a few days ago performed the feat
of walking thirty miles in a day, and al
most equal feats are not unusual with
him. He came to Virginia in 1841.
The foot and mouth disease has broken
out with grjat virulence in Dorsetshire,
where twelve thousand animals are down
with it. The distemper is spreading ra
pidly to other parts of Eugland.
A little rain is needed
OLD TIMES IN KENTUCKY.
How He Rescued Agnes and Married Her—
Diving to Some Purpose.
From tlie Courier Journal }
Between Clarksville, Teen, and Eddy
ville, Ky., on the Cumberland river, tli i
is a cavern vbich can only be entered by
diving into the water, and which Ims no
other light than is reflected fv<>m the bot
tom of the river It was accidentally dis
covered by a young Indian chief, wliilo
oneday diving for his gun, wbjcb he had
dropped from his canoe into the river.
The Indian youth who discovered it fof* ft
long time kept the secret to himself and
would often resort to it in his lonely
hours, where, by the aid of his flint and
a piece of dry wood, he would kindle a
fire and enjoy himself in looking at the
magnificence of the scene as the light
reflected back millions of beams from
the numerous stalagmites and stalactites
of gigantic size and fantastic forms.
The cave was about fifty feet wide, and
about the same in height. In the eo, rse
of time this young son of the forest be
came enamored with a beautiful daugh
ter of one of the hack voo Istnen ib the
settlement. The young chiefs name was
Wallahalla and the girl’s name was Ag
nes Robertson.
In those days tho daughters of back
woodsmen could swim, ride and handle
a gun with all the dexterily and skill of
their fathers and brothers. Arriving at
the place, the lover disappeared beneath
the surface of the waGr and the maiden
quickly followed him. Here he informed
her she must remain as his prisoner un
til he gained the consent of her parents
to their union. Wallahalla then d*
parted to return soon after with dried
venison and such articles aw were neees
sary for her comfort. Returning to the
settlement, Wallahalla found that the
place hud been attacked by the jfoe, and
the village burned to the ground. The
parents of Agnes mourned her as dead,
or lingering in a captivity to which death
would be far preferable. The young
chief was loudest in hist lamentations
over the lost girl, and at the war danoe
of his tribe swore the direst vengeance
against her captors. All tho male pov
tion of the settlement, together with the
friendly tribe to which the young chief
Wallahalla belonged, started in pursuit
of the foe to rescue the girl. After a
long and tedious march they come upon
the enemy in the neighborhood of where
Metropolis City, Illinois, now stands.
A furious battle was fought, in which
the attacking party, headed by young
Wallahalla, dealt death and destruction
to their foe. At this moment the enemy
was reinforced, and the attacking party
was compelled to retire across the Ohio-
The father of Agnes Robertson was al
most crazed with grief at the loss of his
beloved daughter. In his great agony
he published to the troops the following
announcement:
I, Andrew Robertson, will give to the j
rescuer of my daughter from the hands*
of the lowas her hand in marriage, one
thousand acres of land one, hundre l
head of cattle and horses, one hundred
pounds of powder an .1 two rifles.
Andrew Robertson.
Twenty men, warriors and riflemen,
among them Wallahalla, stepped for
ward and tendered their services. The
parent and his trusty friends, with tho
exception of those who wore to go in
pursuit of the lowas in search of Agnes
Robertson, returned to their settlement
on Little river, near the place now
known as Cadiz, in Trigg county,
Ky., to rebuild their huts and the stock
ade which the Indians had destroyed.
Wallahalla separated himself from both
parties, and by a circuitous router wend
ed his way to the cavern in searh of his
beloved Agnes, whom he found in almost
a starving condition.
The full moon shone forth in all its
splendor on the night of the 25th May as
they rose to the surface of the water and
entered their canoe to return to the arms
of the lovely Agnes’ parents, and receive
the reward and a blessing. Their ad
vent into tho settlement on the following
morning was an occasion for great re
joicing. Feasting and dancing were the
order for several and the young
chief Wallahalla was the toast of the
country for miles around. lie was the
recipient of presents of land, horses, cat
tle skins, etc., to a larger extent than
any man since the foundation of the
world, unless I except the great gift
taker, General Grant. Of the nineteen
men who stepped forward to offer their
services to Andrew Robertson, not ono
returned to give in his experience, and
the general impression existed at that
time that they were either all toma
hawked or burnt at the stake. Walla
halla married and changed his name to
Robertson. Mary of his descendants
lived in the neighborhood of what is now
known as Crittenden county and Trigg
county, Kentucky, until about the year
1818, when they removed to eastern
Georgia.
Guns and rifles may easily be cleaned
from lead by the following: If a muzzle
loader, stop up the nipple or com muni
cation hole with a little wax, or if a
breech-loader insert a cork in the breech
rather tightl j ; next pour some quick
silver into the barrel, and put another
cork in the muzzle, then proceed to roil
it up and down the barrel, shaking ii
about for a few minutes. The mercury
and lead will form an amalgam, end
leave the barrel ns clean and free from
lead as the first day it came out of tJ;a
shop. The same quicksilver can be used
repeatedly by straining it through wash
leather, for the lead will be left behind
in the leather, and the quicksilver will
be again fit for use.
The lady who tapped her husband
gently with her fan at a party, and said,
“Love! it’s growing late—l think wo
had better b*. going home," is the same
oaie who, after getting home, shook the
rolling pin under his noee nd said:
“You old scoundrel, you! If you ever
look at the mean, calico faced, mackerel
eyed thing that yon looked at to-night.
Ill—l’ll be the death of you!!’