Union and recorder. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1872-1886, August 29, 1876, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextVOLUME XLV1I.] MILLED GK VILLE, GEORGIA, AUGUST 29, 1870. NVMB ER 6. Union 4* Recorder, IS PUBLISHED weekly li Milledgeville, Ga., BY ^OUQHTOM, j^AF^NES 8j JAOORE, At $2 in Advance, or $3 at end of the Year. S. V. BOUQHTON, Editor. The “FEDERAL UNION" ami the ‘SOUTH EUN KKCOKDEU’* wtere AuguM lit, 1872, the Union being in its Forty-Third Volume aii«i the lG-oortier in it s Fifty-Third Volume- ADVERTISING. —Oiiu Dollar |>**r ucjimro of t«*o liu**# for fir»t luaortiou, *:ul wvci ty-tive r«*ntn for •ubvqurnt <-outiuu»m:e. Liberal discount on tliraii rat on will »»♦* •lU.wrd on adv«*rtidouit'iitit niiiinnic llirw mouth*, or longor. 'frltmto# i»I kli‘i|K‘< t, K.»..lotion# by SorU-Lit*#, Obitna- rie* rx.-f*-diua six liu***. Nominations lor «»*«•«• «•“» C«nuuiuuii'Bt!ou« or individual r.barurfl ub tiaii* hit-ut ndv«*rtisiug. LEGAL ADVERTISING. Application for Dismission from 2 on 3 1*0 W, do EUurilT* S«W-«, |»-r l'-vy of Ion I in.-., ftrlis*,.... ¥ ? ™ •• Mort8.no ti I. ..I.-*, l«-r S u" OUtlou* lor Letter, of “ w •hip, d Adiniiiiiitrutioii, 3 <**• r.tranship,.. 3 00 * *• Lfttvc to •••li Laud •» for Hoin**it**udi, Notice to Debtor# and Cr«*ditor#, •Halt s of Land, A.» , per ••inaru, •• poriMhuhlu property, 10 day", p« r aquur Estray Noticu*. i« days ••••• Korec.h»stir«* of Mortg***% per square, each ti LEGAL ADVERTISEMENTS. Sales or Laud, A- ., by Administrators, Executors or Guar liaus, are required by law to Im- held on the first Tuesday lu the uaoutli, between the Hours of H* m tho Urouuoit and 3 in the afem»H»u, at the Court House in i<« cuauty iu which the property is situated. Notice o. these sales mnst be given in u public gazette 30 tluys ■ reviona te the day ol sale. . Notices tor the sale t»f personal property must be p|veil la like maimer 10 duys previous to sale day. Notice to the debtors and creditor# of an estate must be published 40 days. . Mot ice that application will be made to the Court o. Ordinary for leave to sell L&ud, Ac., must be published for one month. _ .. , . Citarim# for letters of Administration, Ouardiansuip, A« uih #t bo publish *d 30 days—for dismission from Ad- uilnistrstiou luouthly three mouths—for dismission from (laardianship 1« days. . .. . Rales for foreclosure of Mortgage must he pubhsned monthly f .rfo.tr mouth, -lor estahlisliin* lost papers for the fnl! saaTa of throe months—for ••ompoHnig titles from Kxrcutors «*r Administrators, where bond ha. be* u giv en by the deceased, the full space of three mouths. IVblicstioiiB will always be continued according to these tha lagal requirements, unless otherwise ordered. Bsok and Job Work of all Kinds rKOMBYLY AND NEATLY EXECUTED AT Til IN OFFICE. 4 DAY OF SUITER BEAUTY. Out in tiiu golden nummer air, Aini.i the purple hmther, A woman »at witii drooping head, And bauds close knit together; Never a bitter word .lie said, '1 hough all her life looked cold and dead- Cold iu the glowing haze that lay Over the fair green earth that day, That day of summer beauty. Far, far away where leafy woods Touched the .ky, cloud-riven. A thousand birds iang out life's li'.iss In jubilee to heaven ; How could tho p.M.r old withered throat Carol echoes to each soft note ? Every soul must pay life's cost— Her deepest silence praised (Jod most. That .lay of summer beauty. Too dulled her soul, loo worn to feel Summer delight acutely : While earth w as praising God aloud ller patience praised him mutely. Her run row life of thought and care— Not lUu to live, but life to bear, Contented tlint lo t soul Was sad, While God's soulless tilings were glad, That day of summer beauty. And where she stayed, a dusky speck la gor*e and heather glory — A weary,pint watched and read Tim pat tins ol her story 1 .A spirit. doubt oppressed and worn. Ha*h tumid another m..ic lorloin. That trustful stayed not sought to guess J-ile a monologs which are talhoinlers T'hu-ugti all Hie suinio.-i beant-y EXCERPS FROM StyAKSPEARE. A giving lutiitl though initl shall it\t* fait - praise. Adversity’s sweet- milk—philoso- hy. Brevity is the soul of wit, ittd tedionsness the limbs and out ward flourishes. totter have none than plural faith, which is too much by one.- Drones suck not eagle’s blood, but )b bee-hires. Every inordinate enp is unblessed, nd the ingredient is a devil. Fashion wears out more apparel tan the man. sjnorancc is the curse of CJod, .nowledge the wing wherewith we Ely to heaven. f one shoultl be a prey, how much tho better 'o fall before the lion, not the wolf. In delay there lies no plenty. u delay we waste ottr lights in vain, like lamps by day. Judgment and reason have been rand-jurymen since before Noah as a sailor. rindness, nobler over than revenge. >, how full of briers is this day working world! Out of this nettle danger we pluck lie flower safety. ’ast all shame so past all truth. triving to better, oft we mar what’s well. Stoop to honor, not to foul desire. HUMOROUS. The Lover's Consolation.— A laiatrea* I've lord, it iu true, Hut one comfort attends tiie disaster, That had she my mistress remained, I could not have call'd myself master. A Stbikixo Performance.—When Woodward first played Sir John Brute, Garrick was inducod, from curiosity, or perhaps jealousy, to be present. A few days after, when they met. Woodward asked Garrick bow ho liked him in the part, adding “I think I struck oat soma beauties in it.” “I think,” said Garrick, ‘“yon struck out all tho beauties in it.” New Instruments of Warfare.— During a timo that martial law was hi toreo in Ireland, some mischiev ous varlots gavo information that a Mr. Scanlon of Dublin bad three mortar* in his house. A party of dragoons surrounded tho houso and demanded the mortars in the King’s name. Mr. Scanlon, a respectable apothecary, immediately produced fhatn, adding, that as they were uso less without tho pestles, they wore at his majesty’s service. Black Eyes.— By two black eyes iny heart win won, gar* never wretch was morn undone. T# Celia with my auit I came, lint ||e, regard less of her prize, Thou*lit proper to reward any Hame, torial—The corn crop, t. Ado. i of great men are tho f the dunces. ise or oppose what j’oa Revised for the Union Sl Recorder. A Hatty (enrlnsion. BY HENTZ HEMAXS. CHAPTER I. The light of Paradiso seems to descend to oarth when lovers blend tboir sympathies in mntnal pledgee of fidelity. For a timo their hearts are overladen with joys never felt before—subtle emotions of delight, which rob life of almost every care and cover it with a sun-bright cano py of warm and never-ending felicity. This is founded upon reciprocal af fection and ideas of a happy owner ship of the soul's chief idol. It is totally unlike the ownership of lands, or gold. The young man feels that the lady’s bright eyes and glossy hair and rosy Jips, indeed her whole being liavo been transferred to him, and tho lady that her yonng lover has become her property for life.— Each moves on under the deep radi ance of blissful hopes and joys, springing from the exulting foun tains of tlieir love inspired bosoms. Previous to this happy time the la dy’s books, her harp, her watch and jewelry, wore her treasures, and the young man’s horse, his dog and gun, and his expectancies, were tho divin ities of his daily life. But, now, a man is pledged to her, a woman to him. How wonderful the change! What new and glorious rights be long to each, and what happiness they bring when all are tinctured with tho tenderness of true and un divided love! Such were tho thoughts and feel ings of Walter Seymour and Adela Maury, whose pledges of love and fidelity had existed for several weeks, and the timo for whoso approaching union in the holy ties of marriage, was near at hand. Marcius Warwick had sought to be the recipient ot Adola’s hand, but sbo had turned a deaf ear to bis ad vances. The well-known violence of his temper and other objectionable traits would havo made him a dis tasteful suitor if Walter Seymour bad not been bis rival. Adela was the only child of her parents, and her father had been several years iu his gravo. Warwick continued desparately in love with Adela, although she had twice rejected him. Ho believed that Walter was the only obstaclo to bis success. Totally unscrupulous, passion prevailed ovor principle, and dark thoughts crossed his mind.— Almost phrenziod with defeat, he meditated the fell purposo of put ting Walter out of the way by vio^s lent means. At first be tremblod at the atrocious idea. He thought of the deathman’s tread and the igno miny of tho gibbot. But secrosy in tho bloody deed—a slow and cau tious movement in the dark—watch ing liis opportunity—might accom plish the end without the danger of is predetermined. His ghost may wander back, but his flesh will bo food for worms.” * * * CHAPTER n. Calling one morning, a few days after this to sco Adela, Walter Sey mour trembled in evory limb at a sight which confronted ami almost blinded him with surprise and hor ror. Adela was sitting in a summer house on tho side of the walk which led to tho dwelling, reclining in Mar cious Warwick’s arms, with her head resting upon his breast. Ho fixed his scrutinizing gaze npon them to bo assured that tho parties were Warwick and Adela. Tho former turned pale at tho sight of Walter and placed a hankerchief over Adda’s face. His fright partially subsided, when "Walter suddenly turned and walked hastily tluongh the gate. Jealousy distilled its deadly pois on in Walter’s heart and worse. Adela’s cruel infidelity, a6 he sup posed, blighted in one torturing moment, all his golden hopes. He imagined that Warwick had placed the handkerchief over her face, at her sug gestion, to hide her blushes and con fusion. His high hopes, kindled in love’s own paradise were born to die early and ingloriously. In bis heart love was dead, never to revive. “Am I awake and living ?” ho faintly whispered to himself. “Can this be true ? Has destruction swept over my soul’s fond hopes in one cold remorseless moment ?" Reaching his boardingshouse be hastily packed his trunk, gavo ini- structions about certain matters, and in half an hour left the place with a fixed resolve never to return. Warwick stricken with terror, hastened to his place of residence and immediately left the village. He returned after the expiration of sev eral days; when he learned that Sey mour’s absence was still prolonged- Weeks and oven months rolled off, and no one could hear from him, or ascertain his locality. Iu her own mind Adela would ask : “Why did he so suddenly absent himself ? What has befallen him ? Whither has he gone ? Has he ceas ed to love me ?” These were questions which she often repeated to herself during the sorrowing months which agonized her heart and shattered her nerves with inextricable doubts and fears. She still loved, she still clung to the sacred pledge she had made to Wal ter, to be his through all the troub les and trials of this earthly state. Grief, by degrees manifested itself in her altered features, her bending figure and even in the feeble clasp of her soft white hands. Her auburn hair, once so exquisitely braided for Waltor’s eye, was left to fall in dis-- ordered streams upon her neck and shoulders. Six long montbs bad passed. Her harp was silent, her books were un detection. Ho trainod and disciplin- | opened and her thoughts bad shrunk od his mind until the enormity of^into one imago—Seymour, his ab., the crime no longer deterred him #sonco and hor wretchedness. The Walter was doomed to tho sacrifice | sickly lenvos were edying in autum- 11 to the earth. greater virtue to sus- une than bad. if it could.be accomplished. Learning that ho and two friends wero going down tho river on a fish ing and hunting excursion, ho deem ed the opportunity a favorable one to carry out bis hellish design, and looked around for hell-hounds to do the bloody work. He wanted two, and soon found tho savago repros bates, who, in the forms of men, pos sessed tho ferocity of licasts. These satanic wretches had all the rcquiBito qualifications. Their savage eyes gloated ovor the purses of gold which he showed them. “We must confer in secret,” said Warwick, “where no mortal eye can see us. Como to the gorge, between yonder hills, when tho twilight grows so deep as to usher in sight tho early stars. Thero is a patch of pines and cedars there, whoso clustering tops biend so closely, as to form a pall whoso dark shadows convert mid-day into twilight Thero they met. “Now,” said Warwick, “wo must speak in whispers. What say you if I entertain a thought of blood?" “It would not change my purpose to serve you," answered Salton. “Nor mine,” said Werdler. “The thought of blood makes delay bang heavy.” ‘The intended victim,” said War wick, “stands fair with the upper classes. For them ho has smiles, but cold contemptuous looks for such as you.” “His scorn of us,” said Salton, “will nerve our anus to slay him.” “Yes”, added Werdler, “this keen blade will close his eyelids in a sleep so deep that ho will look con- temptuously*upon us no more. Give us his name.” “Walter Soymour,” said War wick. “His name," said Werdler, “takes from my heart tho last vestige of pity and leaves no twinge of con science to disturb me. I can take his life without fear of God or Devil. I know him in his proud walk, haughty looks and insulting words. Meeting him one day upon the street, walking with a lady, I accidentally touched her arm. I swore then to kill him for his scornful looks and insulting threats.” “For reasons which sink deeper iu my soul," Baid Warwich, “his exist enco is hateful to me. To-morrow lie and two others will go down tho river to fish and hunt. They will be gone a week and encamp at night Seek your opportunity and soo that ho returns no more alive. If possi bio havo him drowned, as if by acci dent" “Fear not," said Werdler. “He’ll find a watery grave, and death by accident, will bo in the people’s mouth. He’ll die beforo the third midnight from now. Will coax him into the boat to visit placos where fish collect in shoals, while tho others will hunt. Ho will listen to our promises to aid, and to tho sto ries of our success at those nooks under shady trees and craggy rocks, and there he’ll find his watery bed.” ‘ Good ! your plan is excellent,” said Warwick. “Here are two purses filled with gold, one for each. Five times as much for each of you will be paid if success shall crown your efforts. One word of caution, beforo we part, Walter Seymour is bravo, muscular and athletic. His keen eyes like a hawk’s, sweep tho sccdob around him. Nothing escapes his his vision. Bo sure and take him unawares, else as powerful as you both are, he may be victorious.” “Have no fears,” said Werdler. |‘We will not fail. Seymour’s death mil winds as they fell Adela was setting down in the de spairing gloom of a widowed spirit CHAPTER III. After traveling for several months, Seymour purchased a place not moro than a hundred miles from tho vil lage in which Adela lived. Ho was attracted by its natural beauty, its luxuriant valleys, tho beautiful cas cades on one of its streams, an emer ahl glen, whose tiny stream was fringed with graceful willows, sweet- scented myrtles, wild woodbines and other flowery shrubs and vines. The silenco of this quiet, dreary place, was broken only by the moek-bird’s notes and tho music of other feather ed songsters who frisked in tho haw- tree branches, or the tangled webs of wild-grape vines. Added to these were its grassy lawns anil green hedges which garnished along the road, the southern boundary of the place. Seymour stocked it with every ne cessary agent to make its culture re munerative ; selected a manager to superintend tho hands, and devoted his time mainly to his books and studies. He did not select this peace to bury himself from public sight ; nor was he bent down under tho pressure of a hopeless grief, still he could not forget how ardently he had loved and how incomprehensible that love had been even to himself. He remembered with sorrow the lovely creature who had once plant ed those sentiments in his soul whose, eyes, face and form and whose melo dious voice and harp had folded in his heart the happiest love-dreams and the sweetest smiles. Still, no lingering desire nestled in his breast to return again to that imagined faithless fascinator. For more than six months he had com- fered her to a faithless priestess who had deserted her fane—not in pre paring another to himself, but in her apostaey from principle, and plodge, as sacred as her temple rites. In his books and thoughts he sought refuge from theso pensive memories. Divine philosophy, in cluding all, mysteries of science, mor al, natural and political and all that mortal ken can gather in earth and sky—in human life—tho destinies of nations—of men and women who had been borne npon tho stream of time —afforded life-giving food to his mind. These studies absorbed bis thoughts and in the fullness of men tal strength, he found relief, not per fect, but partial, from tho wastes of a perplexing memory. CHAPTER IV. For four months Walter Soyinonr htul nssidiously pursued his studios at his beautiful retreat, closing bis book, as the clock struck 12 at night, and reclining in an easy chair, the lamp still burning upon the table, he fell into a tranco or sleep. Whilo in that condition a lady covored with a dark veil, which reached her feet, suddenly stood before him and spoke theso words in sounds so low and sweet that they floatod to his ear like music in the crystal air : “Walter you have been the object of my doily thoughts and pity. Once you loved a fair maidon, pare and faithful- Sho loved theo alone. Then hast forsakon her, drawn off by some dark mysterious hope. Hast thou been charmed by otber eyes ? Some new form of captivating symmetry ? Some voice sweeter than Adela’s ? Somo spirit holier, purer ? Or has a syren song misled yon ? I see in the wildness .of thy eyes that tby l>eace is gone. Perhaps thou think- est of the deserted one, in her lone and silent chamber, shedding tears as bitter as her agonizing thoughts. You sought and won her love in tho month of May. Before tho season of flowers had passed you left her to droop like its fading blooms. Was she untrno ? What did she, that through tho warm long days of sum mer she looked in vain for your coming, a-t she still does, while au tnmnal leaves are falling fast, seared and sickened by moloucholy winds. Thou art faithless, Walter, yet sho loves thee still. Hor neglected harp, once so melodious, stands silent anil unstrung. For you she braided her auburn hair and mado sweet music on that now tuneless lyre. Her spir it is crushed, her eyes droop in lan guid sorrow and her fair, neglected hair falls loosely over hor pale and throbbing bosom. Would it give your heart a pang to learn that your once loved Adela will soon be known as the pale maniac—the victim of de sertion * Cans’t thou unvail to me the secret of your absence and infi delity ?" “Lady,” he replied “were that veil removed, perhaps I would not know you. 1 pray you deem me not dis respectful when I say, no ear has heard that reason from my lips; nor ever will. No one loved more de votedly than I, nor have any eyes, or form, or musical voice, lured me from that devotion. More I cannot tell thee. The love that held my *bou1 in chains, and bound me as an idolator at that lady’s shrine, places a seal of silenco on my lips. I loved, but I believe iu love no more.” The lady answered : “Your words enshroud your act’s in still deeper mystery- Adela has not changed. Your idolotrous love ! how, were it such, could it place a seal of silence on thy lips when neither in thought, or deed, has she betrayed yon 1 How cans’t thou so coldly say, ‘I believe in love no more?’ That bitter unbelief ! Whence comes its withering blight ? What extinguish ed the light of that idolatrous love ? What its warmth and hope ? Dos’t thou not see that thou makest thy self a rebel against honor, truth, humanity and heaven, by thine own words ?" “No, lady; I would have been such a rebel had I clung to Adela.” “Walter, shall falsehood be written on thy brow ? Wilt thou mock her grief which shows that thou hast no pity in thy hear t for one who is dying with love for thee ? This, if known, would expose theo to the scorn of all the good and just. Oh ! wretched victim that Adela is! In all her tortnre she never dreamed of such a hell as this. Betrayed ! for saken ! and now, oh God ! that he, whom she loved so dearly, should add to treachery somo dark impugn ment of her truth and character ! Forsake her if thou wilt; leave her to madness; let her die in her early youth in torture ; but havo mercy, pity and seek not falsely, to mako her a moral wreck. Heaven defend her wrongs and save her from tho apostate's deadly sting, inflicted too, by one who was the idol of her soul! Whcro is hope? Where is God! Woe! Woo ! is Adela’s ! Beauty, majesty, glory ! These sho saw in thee, but the spell is broken, apostate change hath blotted out the Lopes she cher ished.” Saying this the lady throw off her veil. Her face was overcast with a deathlike hue, whish gave to her eyes a deepening spell, like that of distant stars. She continued: “I am Adela. You see me in that bridal dross which you presented me when I fondly trusted in your idolo trous love. My presence must un seal your lips. Henceforth I will be mute with wonder. Tears I cannot shed, despair has sealed their crystal fountains. Love is dead, consuming pride is left. Your cruel insinuation sinks like poison iu my soul. You must speak—you will if their is a single ray of honor left to light the darkness of thy soul, or draw a touch of pity from its frosty depths. Tell me, what have I done, that would make you a rebel against hon or, troth, humanity and heaven, to love me? What knowest thou to make you hint, that some act of of mine has caused thee to desert me aud nse those bitter words—‘I loved, but I believe in love no more.” “Adela, your presence and appeal bind me iu honor to say to you what I would not to another. I concede yonr right to know the cause of my acts and words When I saw you in the summer-house, in Warwick’s arms, my heart collapsed, my para dise of love was turned into a pan- demonia, my nerves gave way, my sight grew dim, and in that moment I suffered an eternity of tortures. In half an hour after I reached my boarding house, I left the place never to return. Your infidelity blast ed every hope. Thy glory, and my victorious hope, were extinguished forever." “God have mercy on Walter Sey mour ! I see his sorrows and forget my own in the contemplation of his.” Clasping her hands and moving towards him she said : “Walter, I was insensible when—" Unable to say more, and reeling as if she wonld fall, Walter sprang to aid her. This dissolved his trance, or dream. Ho rubbed his eyes and looked in vain to the spot where the lady had stood. She had vanished. To Soymonr's keen and compre hensive eye, truth and fidelity wore stamped npon her brow. “Was I mistaken,” he askod him self,—“deceivod by some impenetra ble hallucination at tho summer house ? Would that Adela could have finished her scntenco! Bnt why ? She was only the spectral imago of a dream. And what’s a dream ? a picture of fancy in its sleep. In this sleep hor eyos woio tender and she h oked like a dying statue. Bnt ah ! reality ! I gazed in torturing madness when I snw her real person reclining in War wick's arms. I pity, but cannot for- give her.” (Concluded next teeck.) mm* m — ■ It is less painful to learn in yonth than to bo ignorant in age. Good words and good deeds tho rent we owe for the air breathe. are we Nothing can be love to God which does not shape itself into obedience. A U>NG BRANCH ROMANCE. How a Sensible Young Gothamite Won a 35,000,000 Heiress—He Was not Ashamed of Her Rough Old Miner Father. [Letter to the Chicago Times ] Wo remained. I am glad that wo did, for wo saw two very interesting occurrences. One included a fresh, honest, comely girl from the Pacific slope, with natural complexion, truth ful voice, and naive manners. Sho won the Adonis of the beach nnder the congregated sneers of all the trained racers in the matrimonial contest. She is the one of whom I told you at tho beginning of this letter, who went into the 6nrf for a bath. She had read names. Also newspapers, and she supposed that it was nothing to do. Her father, who knows that he is unpresentable in fine society, having spent his early days in mining, and liis latter ones in doubling up his money over and over again, secured for her the chap- eronage of a less crude family, which was making the fashionable round sf summer resorts. Thero is a daugh ter iu this family She is nice enough, but not too beautiful, too accomplished or too agreeable. It was announced by the journal of fashionable intelligence that an heir ess was in this family, and somehow this reputation becarno misplaced The family, who discovered the error, did not contradict it, and their daughter became the center of devo tions which were multitudinous and complex. Indeed, if it did not mean love it did signify business, which has come to stand for the same thing in a general way. The miner’s daughter received whatever of adulation was left over. It was offered to her as a side censer of incense intended for the contral goddess, who did not happen to be accessible to her devotees when there was a crowd of candidates fora smile. The pretty ingenue ot the Western slope did not know why she was placed down at tho side of the altar, and even if she thought of it all she supposed it was because she did not know how to please the fashionable world. Of course she wished to be worthy of admiration, and she was not such an idiot as not to know how much moro lavish nature had been to her than to the daughter of her protecting friends. Whatever faults of style she poseessed, she was determined to eradicate them just as soon as she knew what they were. Adonis, who is at heart a right man ly fellow, and whose faults of man ner are not blemishes of character, but just such little conceits as have been cultivated by the women whom he admired, but neither loved nor respected, endeavored to divert him self with the pretty girl until he should find the heiress sufficiently at leisure to feel the full effect of his fascinations when he brought them to play upon her senses. Tho moro ho tried to amuse himself the moro he liked it. lie had never bbfore met with this style of lassie. She did not know what a sham was corn posed of- Sho told the truth iu the most unheard-of style—at Long Branch—aud was as full of pleas ant, unworldly thoughts ns a wild sweet-briar is of fragrance. Before his time came to level his bewitch ments npon the heiress ho had coas- ed to desire tho opportunity. He was really in love, for tho first time in bis life. His young lady friends chaffed him, derided him, and even expostulated with him upon his cruelty to an unsophisticated girl who swam like a duck, rode like a jockey, danced as if she really liked it, did’t crimp her lavishment of ruddy locks, nor wear trained dress es for evening, unless sho felt like it. Nothing reformed him, or bronght him back to civilization. He even made love to her, and when he discovered that she was neither greedy for an engagement, nor especially proud of her conquest, but very serious, and disposed to consider herself unfitted for his cir cle of associates, be became wretch edly in earnest Ho believed that only the airs of the Pacific could have developed and nourished so enchanting a blossom. Of course the father was not far off. He would not wait from beyond call from his idol, although he refused to shadow her pleasure by his stupid awkward ness, albeit she had not the slight est snspicion of what detained him away from her. Adonis was referred to the father. Ho went to town di rectly, and saw, and worse than all he heard, and such English as it was, too! At the first call he faltered. He said he called—well—because he knew he was in the city. Then Adonis slept over; or rather he laid awake over it. He conld not give her up. He was not helped to es cape by the father, who said: “There ain’t no better, nor no sweeter-tem- pered gal in Calvados county, no nor on the hull Pacific coast, than my Kitty. She’s been a powerful com fort to me sense her mother died, and ef ever a feller don’t treat her right, I've got a bullet a waitin’ for bis liver." Adonis would have been less or moro than Unman if the stylo of the papa had not tried tho temper of his affection, and the same may be said if he had not boon the least bit glad that in case he could not cure his heart of its longing after Kitty, there was no ungrammatical mother-in-law in tho future. Adonis could not Fm too happy at finding a genuine woman, with a genuine man for her father, to care very much for the for tune. Probably I shall be glad enough about that by-and-by. In the meantime come down to Long Branch and I will show you that I can never be ashamed of yon.” The miner cam a He made a sensation by his untrained manners aud lan guage, and. to tho best of my be lief, the conventional Adonis is as proud of him as if ho were a lusus naturte ot the most fascinating sort. Certainly Kitty is happy, but the other girl, the reputed heirers, poor lass! She has missed many of her adorers, but some of them dare not give her up too abruptly for fear of meeting a general grin on the face of society. They wish to seem to havo been sincere admirers. help himself, so he informed me. Ho went to sco the papa again in the morning. He told his love. He showed liis credentials, He said that Kitty loved him. He also ex plained that he could support her plainly and comfortably, but not luxuriously, and probably, with his temporament and capabilities, he shonld never bo a rich man. “You be a gentleman, anyhow," answered tho father, with tears in his eyes, “aud that is what I ain’t; leastwise, not on tho outside; but if Kitty loves you, and what yon say of yonr character and standin’ is true, here’s my hand, and there's Kitty. Tho day you marry her I’ll give her §5,000,000. The money I shan't miss, but the givin’ of the child will make my heart n beggar. Can’t I come and see her when there is nobody to bo ashamed of me f ” Imagine Adonis' appearance when be gave both bands in a great rough grip, and said, sincerely, too, “Thanks for the daughter, but believe me, I did not know that she was the heir ess. I thought it was the other one. OUR RADIX LETTER. Our New Colossus—A Good Hand For a Mother—Disappointing The Doctors—Beer in The Ascendant —The Garbage War—The Silk Worms’ Strike—Sardanapalns— Philadelphia—The New “Hub”— The Dog Velocipede—A Century Clock. [from Our Oirn Correspondent.J New York, August 18, 1876. To the Editor of the Union & Recorder. Like Munich and Detmold of to day, and like Rhodes ot old, New York is to have her Colossus. Right after the Franco-Pi ussian war the French government, to show its gratitude for fuvois shown that suf fering realm and in furtherance of the reciprocal good feeling which has existed between the two countries ever since the struggle in which the American Eagle was hatched, voted to give to onr metropolis a colossal bronze statue of Liberty to stand be fore our watery gates and bear aloft in its mighty hand a beacon to warn off danger, while it should greet with a symbolic welcome tho voyager to the home of the Star Spangled Ban ner. But great bodies move slowly, and thus it was not till last fall or several years after the passage of this laudable resolution that we began to hear much about steps toward its practical carrying out. Then it was that after choosing Bedloe’s Island as the site of the monument, work was actively commenced and soon the papers toemed with paragraphs relating to the progress of the work in the Parisian studio, where the figure was being modeled- So rapid ly have operations been pushed that there havo received this week at the Custom House, eight enormous box es, containing as many sections of the gigantic femalo who is henceforward to preside over our harbor. At last accounts only two of these boxes had been landed, one of which con tains the right hand and wrist and the second, tho torch which the hand will eventually hold. This hand, while not exactly the sort that a fond lover would yeai n to press, would be a positive godsend to any mother with numerous and turbulent off spring ; for. beside being fourteen feet long it is six or seven feet broad and weighs a good many pounds, aud I have no doubt that in any little case of family discipline, a little of it would go a good way. I haven’t been ablo to find anybody who could give me the correct dimensions of the finished statue, but if your read ers are generally familiar with com parative anatomy (as I doubt not is the case) the foregoing figures to gether with tho fact that the thumb nail on his little “flipper” is two feet long, will afford them data enough to enable them to calculate the total height to a nicety. The eight big boxes, forming the first instalment, contained one arm only, the freight on which, from Havre to New York, was a trifle under §500. Probably at no time in hislong and eventful life has Commodore Vander bilt been tho focus of such general and constant attention as now in his last hours—or rather what all the doctors keep insisting ought to be his last hours. But as he has had three months of them already and shows no signs yet of an early re linquishment of life these wise de scendants of Galen are beginning to recall Mr. O’Coeor's resurrection after their fellows had pronounced him to all intents and purposes a dead man, and are commencing to “hedge” a little on their oracular prophecies. Some weeks ago their regular report was, “Mr. Vanderbilt can hardly last through tho night.” After ten days or so of this they kind ly consented to reprieve the old gen tleman for “a week or more,” and now the learned brothers gravely an nounce that “the patient may live for months or even years,” bnt that he has got to go at last. Now, it strikes an impartial observer tbat the anxious family might get as much in formation as that out of lots of fel lows who would be glad to stand aronnd and ‘•predict’’ at a couple of dollars a day, instead of paying these owls in broadcloth from one to two thousand per cent, above market not only by their regular patrons, bnt by the largo class who have some small conscientious scruples on the subject, but aie satisfied with a microscopic excuse for going over to the enemy. At the same time with this difficul ty a quarrel between t he authorities of Brooklyn and New York has been in progress over the dumping of gar bage and street refuse by the latter in the waters of the former elomain. This trouble which nnder the head of “The Garbage War,’ is as regular ly reported in the papers as the pro ceedings of Congress or the amount of watermelon that Commodore Van derbilt has eaten during the day. Legal proceedings have been com menced by the Brooklynites, and an injunction procured preventing our police from making the accustomed disposition of refuse which has con sequently accumulated to some ex tent, and together with the impure water has injured the health of the city for the time being, as shown by mortality report for the week end ing August 12, which shows 31 more deaths from typhoid and contagious diseases than during the previous week. Let me advise your lady readers if they have any intention of invest ing in any kind of silk goods, wheth er for dresses, ribbons, or sewing purposes, not to pat off baying a single day. The silk worms are on a big strike—that is, I judge that’s what it is. At all events these little creatures in all the silk producing countries of the world have sudden ly reduced their production nearly one half. Just why this is nobody can tell. May be its because those bloated aristocrats, the caterpillars, have got up a “corner” on mulberry leaves and put up the price ou them, but tlie fact remains, and so the silk association of this country has met and decided that they must ioraie diately put up prices from 25 to 50 per cent. So make haste ladies and get in yonr silk stocks (and perhaps stock-ings) before it is too late. Monday, the 14th inst, was a date which had been eagerly anticipated by all lovers of the stage. At Booth’s Theatre on that evening, after montbs of preparation, was rendered for the first time in America Mr. Oharles Calvert’s masterly stage version of Lord Byron’s “Sardanapalns.” As might have been safely predicted from the magnitude of these prepar ations added to the prestige to the management, the piece achieved an instant and so unqualified success that Messrs. Jarrett, & Palmer pres diet for it a greater ruu than that of “Julius Caesar.” The dramatic interest of the play centres npon the Assyrain king and his Greek slave Myrrha, respectively personated by Mr. F. C. Bangs (the Marc Antony of Julius Caesar,”) and Mrs. Agn68 Booth. But this interest, although con siderable, is overshadowed by the spectacular accessorius which jvim tively excel anything of the kind ever beforo attempted in this country. TV produce them required the < xpendt ture of over §60,000 in gold, before the first rising of the curtain. . The scenery, which was painted in Eng land, alone cost §10,000. and, so long as he can escape Mr. bergb, may RO wherever he will-to AJaska ^r * weeks seal fishing, to the Black Hills for scalps or to New •Jersey for mosquitoes, just as ho pleases. A little reflection would doubtless suggest hundreds of other possible applications of these now principles, but. the instances just cited are sufficient to demonstrate their great importance. In the Kansas and Colorado build ing there is on exhibition a “century clock,” the only one of the kind in existence. It tells the month of the year, the day of the month, the day of the week, the hour of the day, the minute of the hour, and runs one hundred years’af one winding. It works with a weight of ten to one hundred times less power than is re quired to run any other escapement in the world, nnd thus comes nearer to perpetual motion than any otherma chine in existence. It would be a good idea to w-mrl it up (by dog- power) at the elose of the Exposi tion and then sec if it will tick in our third century. Radix. 4 WAR SCENE. Ah ! whence yon irlare. That fire* the at eh ol heaven ?—that dark red smoke Blotting tlie silver moon T The stars arc qaench- ed n In darkneiis, and pure aiul epangling enow Gleams faintly through the gloom that gathers round ! Hark to that roar, whose swift and deafening peals In countless echoes through the mountains riug, Startling pule midoLht on her stairy throne 1 Now swells the inteiming.ing din: the jar Frequent and frightful ufrhe bursting bombi The falling beam, the shriek, the groan, the shout, The ceaseless clangor, and the rush of men Inebriate with tage .—lend and mere loud ilie discoid glows ; till pale death shuts the scene, And o er the c-onqueror and the conquered draws liis cold and bi «..iy « ,r n '. Of all the men Whom days oeponing beam wr blooming there, In prim 1 vigomu . health : of nil the heails I .ial beat with anions iiie at Mtr set there: How tew mi vive, now tew are heating now! All is deep silei.ee. like the feniful calm I hat siiuubers 'n the storm’s portentous pausei Save when the fantic wail of widowed love Comes shudderiug on tlie blast, or the faint moan With which some soul bursts from the framo of clay Wrapped round its struggling powers. The gray morn Dawns on the mournful scene : the sulphurous smoke Before the icy winds slow rolls away. Ami the bright beams of frosty morning dance Along the spangling suow. There tracks of blood Even to the forest’s depth, and scattered arms. And lifeless warriors, whose hard lineaments Death's self could change not, mark the dreadful patii Of the outsnllying victors far behind, Black ashes note where their proud city stood. Within yon forest is a gloomy glen— Each tree which guards its uaikness from theo day. Waves o'er a warrior's tomb. Shelley. let, which is tho finest ever seen in New York, comprises nearly one htm tired Italian ladies, the leading star being Mile. Bartolciti, the Taglioni of the present day. In a 1, four hun dred persons, men, women, and chil dren, take part in tho gorgeons pageants and battle tableaux, while in addition to full orchestra, a mixed chorus of one hundred voices render the appropriate music of the play. The stage effects throughout are grand in the extreme, but the crown ing scene—the immolation of Sarda napalus and Myrrha, surpasses even the thrilling effect of Brutus’ funeral pyre in the great Sliakesporian revi val. Philadelphia, August 19. A quiet week has been the past at the Hub of the Universe—title loan ed by the courtesy of the capital of Massachusetts, for this six months only—the average crowd going through the average amount of sight seeing in very much the average man ner. Many of them move so lazily, that they seem to long for duplicates of that dog-velocipede in the main building, that triumph of inventive genius which none of your readers who have been here can have failed to notice. I am of the opinion that the designer of that vehicle mast have been the identical gentleman who said be wasn't feeling at all well and expressed the conviction that working between meals was ruining his constitution. It is a sort of tiot ting sulky, without shafts, each of whose two wheels, from the hub near ly to the tire, is a wire cage, entire ly similar in operation to one of those whirligig arrangements attach ed to squirrel cages to afford the bushy tailed occupant a chance to settle his breakfast without getting too far from home. Into these wheels are inserted twe unfortunate canines and steam is got up by giv ing the vehicle a gentle posh which , presents to the astonished “purps” rates for very much the same kind of ! the alternative of either working their A ?ijiid Looking Deseiver. lie was a seedy looking individual, says the Louisville Argus, and as ho stood upon the corner gazing wist fully at the disappearing form of a ' newsboy, who had jusi picked up a ; good sized stump and was making • 0 with tlie piizu, there was a vague • pect of despair in hif;attitude which 1 wus touching. Perhaps it was this i %\liiedt attracted the attention of a j mild looking party who was just pas- The bal- 1 *L V ’ :llK l perhaps it was some thing else, bnt however this may be, tlie mild looking party stopped, and, gazing at the solitary figure, address ed it thus: “Old man, would’nt you like to have a drink this morning?” ‘You’ve read me as accurately os though iny thoughts were printed on an open page,’ replied tlie solitary, taking his quid from his mouth and passing a dilapidated coat sleevo over his lips. ‘I thought so,’ murmured the mild looking party, while a tear trickled down his cheek; ‘but conquer the de** sire. Fight it as you would a legion of devils, for drink has ruined many a man who had a more expansive forehead than you’ve got!’ And then the miid looking party continued on his way, and the soli tary gazed dreamily into space and communed with himself Colored Voters. work. Not bnt what “the patient’ is very old and feeble and liable to die at any moment, but when that is going to be. the doctors don’t know any more than I do. During all this time that Mr. V. has been confined to liis bouse the newspapers have reported his con dition, surroundings, and conversa tion so far as they could by any means obtain it, with untiring zeah varying the enforced monotony of these reports by reprinting all sorts of probable and improbable anec dotes of his life. The Commodore himself to whom, one would think, all this obituary-flavored, attention might be unpleasantly suggestive, takes it all in good part, and even shows considerable interest in the public solicitude. The crowd of re porters and visitors that throng his doors do not seem to tronblo him in the least He directs their questions to be answered anil sometimes sends down to them his own opinion of his condition. What with hoi fresh water and salt water troubles, the city has been having a hard time for two weeks. Tho Croton in the reservoirs has been tainted with decaying vegetable mat ter accumulated through the drought and hot weather, and for days got worse and worse till tho total ab stinence men wonld have been driven clear to distraction if they bad ' not stopped at—Boer. This and kindred beverages have been eagerly sought, passage or turning a good many somersaults. The average dog in cautiously chooses the former, and once started is doomed to illustrate perpetual motion till he drops, or till the rider, who, meanwhile, is comfor tably seated on the axle, sees fit to release him. In the excursionist who doesn’t take kindly to doing his own loco motion, the contemplation of this in vention awakens feelings of envy and delight. Visions of summer trips to bo conducted with small labor and expenso rise at once before his heated imagination, and as the class allud ed to is by no means small, I shall not be surprised if the new style of “dog cart” becomes quite popular. Consider.its simplicity and varied utility. With a sigh of relief the city merchant oppressed by hard times, sells off his costly equipage, and with an insignificant fraction of the pro ceeds purchases the new improve ment, catches a couple of the vagrant quadrupeds in tho streets, and sails down to business with an appland- ing conscience. The hunter out for a day’s spert, instead of using up his strength in tho preliminary tramp, simply puts his faithful hounds into the treadmill and calmly reads bis paper till tho chosen spot is reached, when lie releases hjs steeds and sets them to starting np the game. The tourist or pleasure seeker Las only to find a couple of pair of dogs to “spell” each otber along the route, The colored people having becomo satisfied that Radicalism is as un friendly to them as it has been to the whites, and that it’s leaders have courted them only to secure their votes and gain possession of their tnomy, as in euse of tho Freedmen’s National Bank, are beginning to see that, their interest requires them to vote with the best friends they have ever had—we mean the Southern whites. Inasmuch as both races have interests which are identical, it is a matter of astonishment that they have not long ago at least, divided their votes between the two parties. The State Legislatures cannot enact laws discriminating against on race and favoring the other—all laws must be general in their operation— they must benefit alike both whito and colored men—aud, consequent ly, both white and colored are inter ested in having good laws honestly administered. Whut is true of State politics is equally true of national affairs. All laws must bo general. Whatever benefit8 or injures one race, mnst have the same effect on tlie other, and therefore there should be no race antagonisms. We can very well understand why there may bo sec tional differences. They grow out of conflicting interests; but there is no conflict of interest between the two races. We fear that onr white brethren have not taken sufficient puins to exs plain these things to colored voters. Their minds have been poisoned by emissaries sent among them for that express purpose, anil wo have not made an effort to undeceive, them. In the late election in Alabama thou sands of the colored voters sustained the Democratic ticket in that State, and thousands here aie now ready to vote for Colquitt, Tildcn, Hendricks and Reform, if encouraged by their white friends to do so. Thoy have found that Radicalism. has never benefited them any, but on tho con trary, cheated and defrauded them— they are now ready, with proper en couragement, to give Democracy a trial.—{Southern Watchman. Tho woman of work sweeps ovenr- thing bofore her; the woman of fash ion sweeps everything behind. Opportunity is. .the flower of time, and as tho stalk may remain when the flower is cut off, so timo may re main with us when opportunity iq gon* forever.

Georgia Historic Newspapers

Union and recorder. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1872-1886, August 29, 1876, Image 1