Newspaper Page Text
y. - fIDCLI TV.
. ieras 1 ut yesterday
fS •■ '* , h i!r' quivering stars to
■amsn. y woma^icarT
a: -t -rs 1 1 viiocM utile iwit
r .ianbttng <1 th impart
r. jrrtevoua than the jiateh.g
I air- "Id and gray
■i twitch the stars at night.
. ■ hope. I have no voire tor
m h:- form doth glad my sight,
j i. , tn.'t. The stars are there
rue. And Love will reanite
gouts, or he. e or otherwhere. 1
mg |lrnio grriati.
STRASSMERE.*
• . C. T. li K A >' C H.
HAPTER VII.
.light before 1 was to start
. My trunks were all packed
'.v wardrobe l>ugiit with a
i‘:.ey realized from eel line
Tuey were strapped ready tor
ar.d looked dreary enough to
j, \ leaning wearily back in a
- -..othing more for me to do,
' r. ' began to sink low. The
my situation rusned over
overwhelming tide, so that,
hands over my eyes, I
‘■l. God pity the orphanage
,i a living death! My sor
t > be still, and moan after
l me, w hile my soul seemed
tor me to pray. 1 scarcely
- me one entered the room,
a pair of clasping arras
> heard a gentle, soothing
Mrs. Sears, who knew how
sorrowing. Few words
I leit ner '"sympathy. Af
asked me if i. would be
a friend who was wailing
*.‘t Minnie. lie comes with a
. . ii his mother.”
r obs quickened until they
. . and 1 could not utter a
•w all my story, and felt
a her would be best,
him. lie has been a true
amt does not deserve cold-
Cbristian law now rule
r God is your Father.”
übraced me and smoothed
i hair, smiling at last upon
: me from the room. She
I t door and lett me upon
where fora little while I
.re. I’rof. Williams stood
in the centre of the room
: shining full upon his
' A into his face and I
and with my heart growing
. and my lips spoke the
! ; uu have come to see me
■ M out nis hand in wel
v. ~s a light shining in his
■ told its own story. Ilis
ady n iieti he tried to speak
'ds of £ reeling. It was
i.i us to play a part :
* > is3 words died uu^Kur
loot my wish tHi he
• - , but tie remained hat in
■ handeiier.
before the daughter who
homeless for my sake. I
;f there is forgiveness to
. heart bar him who would
• all that she has lost.”
, f-vgiveness of me
l could bear.
:n ti.e me weep for shame.”
■ i mi. wuu uave been s,i true
oly to claim my gratitude,
row is that 1 have ap
il • rtless towards your dear
I,** he continued, “who left
■viili . uin. anti 1 might have ei
-1 it u only my grief made me
•*i -tiltie Daisy, how can we
- ;.; i enough for me before to face
lark b.U'.re. Such language from
■Ak all it.y bravery away. 1 sank
into a chair and my headdroopod. •
-there ro way,” he asked, “to help
• p you from going out into this
ii ; where you will have to work,
tuutvi lure? I cannot see you go
in. art will break'.'’
1 >.it tl"*a near me. and I felt bis
■ • i'ou my bowed nead—tuat touch
: a- almost reverential.
ame here. Daisy, only to bear a re
trom mother that you come to see
-t once more. Expecting to tind you
inti scornful, changed and seif-re
lat, 1 found you the same sweet, inno
i : -irl with 'the unchanged heaven in
v , yes, and iam undone, my strength
“tne. Answer me, please, just one
v rnd say if you will stay.”
■stressing hand still lay upon my
l tried to make ayme reply, but the
- would not come; it was only a
k up and let me talk with your true
V Hiking into mine,” he began again,
lay lie that you do not understand
t it is hard for me to make known
- Ihsbness. iiow can 1 dare ask you
e to a home like mine — one shadow
ed wi*b mysteries and ruled by an inva-
It would be a terrible sacrifice for
make, beloved child.”
Ir. voluntarily 1 looked up then into his
;• earnestly. longing to know his mean
ing.
■a: wistful eyes — oh! pure heart!’’ he
cried, while almost a smile wreathed his
tea tiful lips. ‘‘Must I speak the word
A—that sainted word — before you will
hr wmy meaning? 1 would have you as
•a; wife, Daisv. Now call me selfish and
cruel.”
I usd not dreamed of this even in my
U.ir> st hour, and now the light came in
pa me slowly. It had been so sweet to
c bis pupil, to" learn from him, to hear
vis voice and know he was near, that
>us‘. lor a little while it was almost pain
in the new vision. He saw my
i, ration, and a pang of pain seemed to
ontract his brow.
1/ see it was cruel. You are only a
rood, and the painful rumors you hear
m ist make you shrink. Forgive me for
. living you;” here he arose as if to go.
-a 1 tell mother that you will come and
say good-bye?”
>h! do not go yet,” I cried, frightened
a: the sound of my own voice. “Please
k • me think just a few moments, and do
cot call yourself cruel any more. It is
un.ijst.”
'The only truth that would free me
f: ~i cruelty in taking you to my home
* -!i be that you love me, my poor little
i'.;>y. Would you not pity the young
ar - . ' ing heart that twined itself around
rain.
• if it was sought by your love.”
"y voice sounded strange to me, and 1
' ' the hot flush deepen on my cheeks.
•id 1 not say so, child ? Did I not tell
j "w my heart would break at losing
J* Ah! little mimosa,open your heart
• me and let me teach you how a true
man an love.”
E s uund was held out entreatingly, and
iscinating eyes asked me to give
fur aine. I gave it to him. Oh. moment
-weet trust and union, to what can l
■knit! Its memory thrills me yet. He
not leave me then but poured forth
Lis long,restrained emotions in a resist U se
i‘ rrent that fell in music on my cars.
°.ir souls were both tuned lor melody,
ani nothing but sweet chords were
r, i*;hedbycither tongue.
/* !V QtTne arose to go the first shadow
cm t over his face.
Daisy, are you sure you are brave
’ i_’h to face the mysteries of S trass
es- -e? Does not your heart shrink when
ta certainty is before you of living in
their midst?”
1 told him no. smiling.
And you will trust me entirely. Be
aember, I am not in all points my own
faster, and will have to ask your forbear
ance if the mysterious things remain as
they are. Think before it is too late;
there is time now to retract. I would
Sive my life for you, little one, bat can
not betray a trust. Say, can you trust
Oe*o
"nee more 1 laid my hand in his and
said:
■Now and lorever.”
de repeated the words over and over,
k tisg at me as if magnetized, and
clasping my hand tightly until it almost
c *ie me shrink.
•‘l'll write those words upon my heart,
and will go to rest repeating them and
pcaying God to bless my Daisy.”
He was gone at last, and 1 stood under
chandelier where he had been when I
watered the room. Was my happiness a
? No, for a plain gold band encir
cii my finger, and the mirror before me
resected a lace radiant and fresh as the
mom.
‘ A change had come o’er the spirit of
•a? dream.” Henceforth the galling yoke
c independence fell from off my girlish
-"-'ders, and it was rest to feel that a
. * KI -tereU according to act of Congress in ths
r^L 1 * 44 *7 J - H- Kaun. in theoHccofthe
hibrarisa tf Congress st Washington.
guiding spirit w as to mark out my earthly
career.
My situation as teacher was iraraediate-
Iv supplied bv another; my ghosts of a
Reason, the traveling trunks, were un
packed and removed. Why do 1 linger to
rneof what came so soon? My bridal!
It; would have been injustice to both hud
I wail that 1 was, tried to resist the tide
of eloquence thaturjpd our immediate
union. Who was there to prepare a bri
dal feast, or expend loving laliors upon a
dainty trousseau for me ? Yet there was
one w hose impati. nt spirit could ill brook
delay, and chated at the slow rolling
hours, that at last belonged to my girlhood,
who hastened the simple arrangements
until the hour finally drew near.
Jessie Douglas was with me in the 1
pleasant room that was ray heaven at the
parsonage, and she was making merry
over her ofliee as tire woman, whil? words
fell thick and fast from her red lips.
‘■l am nearly done, little lamb. Do not
look so like a martyr. It will never do
b.r this exquisite veil to be arranged other
wise than perfectly in accordance with
tas'e. ■ Mow’ delightful in l’rof. Williams
—cb! I forgot that you wish me to drop
his title. I say that it ischarmingthathe
insists on your dressing in white satin. If
there is one object that is sweet in my
eyes it Is a young bride dressed in white
satin and with lovely lace veil like this.
Then these pure white pearls are such an
appropriate gift from him. Do you know,
dear, l never liked diamonds upon such a
wee bit of romance as you arc-.* Ah! you
smile now. and it makes you look super
latively lovely. Please smile at the altar,
Minnie; it will please your wonderful
master of ceremonies.”
There was a little pause in which she
slipped away a moment, attracted by a
movement in the halis. My solitude did
not last long, for in a few moments she
came in with overflowing animation.
“Minnie. Daisy, I begin to envy you;
all the girls in the city would envy you
could they only see the bridegroom. He
is handsome and bewildering with his
brilliant eyes and lips like Cupid’s bow. I
saw bmi entering in all the shining tasci
nations of a faultless attire; and there is
a love of a phaeion at the gate, and a pair
lffugnificent horses and a liuely-dres-td
groom and—ob Minnie, do not spoil \our
veil. Tears! for a bride!”
Her own voice trembled, and her lips
sougbt mine tenderly. Iler last words
were whispered low, for Mrs. Sears en
tered while the bridegroom awaited m- at
the threshold. They were a benediction
.ml strangely eloquent from such lips as
hers.
He clasped niv hand and drew it on Lis
arm while he led met out. Due moment
he paused before entering the pailor and
sjioke just two words, “Now and for
ever,” and I rep" .ted them v. ith a gUd
smile. Then cam -the solemn service so
earnestly spoken bv Mr.Scars, that a hush
like death eameov. ribe little assemblage
in the parsonage parlor.
There stood kind Dr. Douglas and wife,
Mrs. Sears, Jessie and the minister; bin
we alt made up a small world within our
selves Ah! the solemn import of a !e.-.
s ok< n words—who can id! save th-. 5.-
who have learned how vastly te p are toe
tssu so; a rite that buds two throboimr.
immortal beings into one indissoluble
, bout! It was tied—the kn-.t that b nut and
me to him forevu— a happy ehi and
I received the sweet wishes that were
showered upon nn*. I could not f.ir.et
tint there was one, whose willing steps
! would once have brought her first to this
! bridal, who was now longing and waiting
j in her lonely chamber for our coining that
; she might add her blessing.
1 It was (Veil to remember her then, and
I vow inwardly that I shnuid never come he
| tween son and mother like these. We
S were away at last, drawn by the shining
| hordes into the soft moonlight.
“Not so fast, driver,” called out mv
j companion, as he drew a light shawl
i about my should rs and added in lower
| tones to me: “We will lengthen out this
| our first moonlit ride, it it please \ou.”
“Only rna mere is waiting,” I said,
j “W ll it not be selfish?”
*■( >ur joys are hers,” he added. “From
! this cay remember that when we are hop
' py in each other there is no sad wai inx
time tor her. The tie that has just en
• twined your being with mine makes you
her beloved child, for whose happiness it
' will b" her joy to wait patiently if there
by she can yield to us a sweet time like
: tbiq. Now look abroad, we are out of the
’ city. See how the leaves of the dark
raa’gr.ol.a shine like silver, and watch the
fire-flics gleaming out among the nigut
| shadows. Do you not hear the voice of the
katydid? Listen and look, sweet poet,
and tell me what you feel.”
A delicious Happiness filled all my be
i ing, yet it was hard to shape it "into
j words.
• Joy inexpressible,” said I, “like that
I I feel when strains of sweetest music
1 thrill me. when the sunshine and moon
light gladden me, aiul I thank God forgiv
ing me the power to enjoy all this.”
“Ah! yes.” he added, “God isrn all this,
j and the remembrance of His love isueed
j ful to make every joy complete; but He
■ sends us shadows, too, oftentimes. What
would jou do, poor lamb, if He were to
withdraw His smile?”
I felt the arm that encircled me tighten
its clasp.
“1 should try to thank Him still (or His
word in which he tells us that He is the
same yesterday, to-day and forever. It is
only we who change.’’
“Speak not ol change now, my bride.
You will never change, will you? Say
quickly, will your love for me ever
change?”
“Trust and love go undivided,” I re
sponded; “when trust dies then love
changes sometimes to bate, but have you
not told me that you have written upon
your heart the watchword I gave you to
seal this union of ours? Let me repeat it
over with your eyes reading my soul as
they do now. ‘1 trust you, now and will
forever!’ ”
The light of night’s queen illumined his
face as 1 spoke, and revealed the love
written there which he bad told me a
“true man” could feel. I nestled close to
his heart, for perfect trust was in mine,
and it seemed I had but little to give in
return for the wealth oi his great lore.
“Mine, mine only,” he murmured, joy
fully; “mine now and forever. AVhatcan
divide us?”
For a time we rode in silence, scarcely
broken in upon by the quick fall of the
horses’ feet upon the smooth shell road.
The broad boughs of the oaks nearly in
tertwined above us, and long tendrils of
moss swung about in the night breeze
gracefully as if making obeisance as we
passed; even the white road gleamed far
ahead in the vUta before us, and seemed
to wave to and fro like some spirit of the
night lighting our way. 1 was thinking
of his last words—what coaid divide us?
My heart replied that we were one and
would be forever, but the words were not
spoken. I only said:
“Where has ail my awe of you van
ished? Is there magic in a few words ut
tered by a minister of God that brings me
such dear rest here close to your side ?”
“It is the magic of pare affinity,” he re
sponded. “that drew us together long ago.
Talk no more of awe, my bright twin soul,
and let me teach you how to can me. Let
me be Eugene to you. Any other name
from your lips would be distasteful to me
now. Forgive me if I dwell thus early
upon even a slight shadow of annoyance,
but it is pain for me to hear the title I
have borne from many since you asked in
your girlish tancy to call me so. Truly I
was a young Professor,” he continued.'as
if about to lift the veil from off his for
mer life. “At nineteen the title was be
stowed upon me, and I laughed at it
then. Now, at twenty-four, it pains me to
hear it, and adds the snows of seventy
winters to my years in seeming.”
“I am glad,” I cried, fervently, “to lay
that title aside, and must confess also that
I do not like to call you Mr. Williams.
The name is a good one, bat does not
sound well without the one your mother
gives you.”
He looked at me intently a little while
as if not quite sure that" was all I was
thinking of, then said:
“My mother called me Eugene because
it means noble, well-born, and I have not
yet caused her to blush at the sound of it.
Let me see the blush of the rose upon
yours whan you hear the sound because
vour pulses quicken with joy, shall 1?
Now respect my first request and call me
Eugene. Let me hear my name often
upon your loving lips, and I will think
she loves to call me noble —she trusts
me.”
1 became silent again. There was a
fervor about his language that impressed
me when we were alone. It was only to
me that be gave way to a kind of charm
ing abandfin to what seemed his natural
mood—a mood so fascinating I would
have been content to bask in its influ
ences always, yet under it all there
seemed to sleep even at that bridal hour
an undefined something which I could
scarcely locate even in my thoughts. Al
ready there was awakened within me a
desire to hear him talk of his boyhood
and of things in the past, so continued af
ter awhile as if taking up fhe same train
of ideas:
“I am glad you are no older than twen
ty-four, and can scarcely say why it
seemed to me you were not so young. I
could imagine you scarcely twenty to
night with that happy face.”
THE SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1881.
“I can never grow old again—as I have
been in heart—.vith you near me, darling.
1 b he exclaimed, “hero vve are all too
so*>n.”
V>"- had driven up by a route unknown
to mo, and all at once the snow white
walls ot Strassmere gleamed upon our
sight. What new charms enrolled it for
me! Mv future home! Con'd tne re tie a
lovelier <n. ? Not even in dreams has un
fa- c> jectured a place more beautiful'.
Would that my pen were inspired that, it
might picture it as it flashed unon me
then when my mind glowed with thoughts
born of "ii:- love.
“Stop!” 1 cried, plating my band in
his, “let ua loojQpt it together with thank
ful hearts —the Exquisite picture yonder.
Art has lent its happiest aid to make na
ture smile all about the home. As the
moonlight veils it all 1 van imagine spirits
of loveliness playing hide-and-seek among
those airy turrets and shining windows
and each graceful curve of the many
balconies.”
He srr.Ued. but looked at me rather than
at the picture, as he said:
“Strassmere may well put on her love
liest lace, for the bonniest bride in all this
Southern lend will grace her halls to
night.”
Miss lialino met us on the threshold
with-all her accustomed stateliness of
dress and manner, but she bent her head
and kissed my brow, giving her welcome
in as> iff way. 1 caught a glimpse of a re
clining figure in the parlor, and with fleet
step broke away from the ami that up
held me. 1 had not seen that dear face
since it wore the pallidness of death, and
my heart beat high and fast as I knelt near
hi r couch.
“Your blessing, dearest mother.” was
all luy quivering lips could speak.
She gave it with her bauds softly and
caressingly laid upon my head crowned
with its orange blossoms.
It was a tender, supplicating voice that
called down upon me heaven’s richest
blessings. Would that 1 could give her
quaint language here, but only she could
have call, uup anything as litre. When
l looked up 1 saw that her soi knelt be
side me, and then came the double bless
ing.
There was a little season of sacred si-,
lence between us there—a silence
was not sad, lut the words we did not ut
ter were ol a sad past that was never
brought up. We buried it at once so that
no s jadow should rest upon our coming
together. It was a hard struggle for me
to control my anguish in renn inhering
what w.*s the cause of her lying so help
less, and that lather had forced me to give
her loving soul such a stab did uot at that
moment console me, but to be sure <hat
her love lor me knew no bitter remem
brance I had only to look into her loving,
approving eyes.
••Aii!” sue exclaimed, over and over,
“nn s enfant s, Eugene and Marie.”
She always called me Marie, which in
her language stood lor Miriam or Ma r y.
Mie said it in ant Star of the Sea. and as
often us otherwise called me their star,
she used to lay great stress upon the
meaning f names, so that she taught us
tin-ir worth.
From our marriage day I was i> tisy to
Eugene. Marie to his mother Miriam to
Miss Maiiro and Minnie to my former
f't.nds. To lovers of pleasure there
would have been little that was attrac
tive in our quiet evening patty, for we
were only u trio ot loving souls so joined
together that- we made our own nappy
world. The presence of others would
have marred our pleasure. Strange that
I did not miss Miss Maiino even from our
feast (which, though it was spread only
tirthiee.wasexquiste).until Eugenesai i:
“We allow our good friend Annua to
consult her own whims about every thing,
and n> v r feel surprised at any of them,
no matter how odd they are." You will
learn, like us, 1 hope, to valqe her 1 r her
true worth. . Jjfur my sake, express no
wonder or :>:4fcyancj at any of her ways.
She is, as you know, while a treasured
member of our family, not a kinsfolk, and
to-night she begs us to excuse her it she
fir* uts lo occupy herself alone.”
Eugene had wheeled the reclining chair
of our mother close to the table arid next
to me. she said with a pleasant nod
after hearing what was said of Miss
Maiino:
“Tant mieux.” If she thought it was
“so much the better” for us to enjoj our
freedom from restraint it was all rijiht. 1
was aiad there was no one to dispute my
right to play attendant upon the dear lit
tle mother who seemed to enjoy my ser
vices most thoroughly.
We lingered long about the table, en
joying luscious tropical iruits and mak
ing merit over a game ot bull-gull in
which we all three joined. Then Eugene
and 1 aie a philopena together, and. wuen
he caught me immediately, mother's mu
sical laugh rang through the halls.
(juaiut anecdotes fell from her lips, to
which Eugene listened with the liveliest
interest and with happy smiles wreathing
his lips.
Then the two returned to the parlor,
where all was beautilul about us and
sweetest music began.
Eugene sang the song his mother loved
best, while I listened with a joy that was
inexpressible. It was one that ne learned
lrom my lips—the one 1 used to sing at
home:
•*o: watch ye well by daylight,
In daybght y.iu miiy fear;
But keep no watch in darkness,
The angels then are near.
“For heaven the sense bestoweth
Our waking life to keep,
But tender mercy showeth
To guard us in our sleep.
“O! watch ye well in pleasure,
tor pleasure oft betrays;
But keep no watch in sorrow
When joy withdraw its ra5S.
“For in the hour of sorrow,
As in the darkness drear,
To heaven entrust the morrow,
The angels then are near.”
The sound of his voice wgs to me
sweeter than any earthly instrument—so
sweet that tears of strange enjoyment
filled my eyes, and a great throb seemed
to make my heart ache. How often since
in hours of sorrow have I recalled that
scene, and tried to teel as 1 did then that
angels were near!
It was a shock when Miss Malino sud
denly came close to me and laid her hand
upon my shoulder.
"l’ardonnez, mois,” she cried out. “but
please to see the little shining clock that
points to the wee sma’ hours.”
I took her arm and was led in stately
majesty to the left wing of the building.
We passed through a long corridor to
reach the suite of rooms that Eugene had
fitted up for me. For awhile my compan
ion allowed me to revel in girlish admira
tion of my surroundings, but she had lit
tle patience with that poetical side of hu
man nature, and spoke again, never un
bending from her stateliness:
“I am no talker, for this new speech
does tangle in my tongue, and you will
not care much, maybe, to hear me very
often, but, when we do speak to gedder,
call me Amina now.”
i could not help reddening at the
thought of calling one so elevated by age
and manner above me by a given name.
“It will sound disrespectful, 1 fear, but
if you wish it I will surely.”
“1 do not see what youf word meens,”
she replied, quickly; “but it ess not that
1 am too old, ma foi!”
Ah! 1 offended her at the start. What
a pity for me!
“No, no,” 1 exclaimed. “You do not
look old. only the silver threads in your
hair perhaps misled me.”
Her face became overcast with clouds,
and she shocked me by the French wo
man’s polite swearing, though it was only
an outcry to her.
“Mon dieu, poor enfant. Le ciel.”
Here she raised her hand towards the
ceiling because the heavens could not he
seen and made a startling gesture. “He
knows what makes dees snow hairs.”
Her other hand touched her bands of
hair once coal black, but now sprinkled
with white. Her whole manner was so
tragic that I hardly knew whether to
laugh or to cry while standing transfixed
with my gaze upon her.
It was plain to me even at that moment
that this creature was to be my evil
genius in this new home. She came out
in that first evening m an entirely
changed guise, and was from that time
one person before the family, and a very
different one when alone with me. She
haunted me—she became the ghost of my
unwary footsteps—the presiding horror of
my dreams. I remember well how I be
gan on that first night to associate her
with the vague mysteries of the place.
Strive as 1 might to repress the thought,
it arose at that she was my enemy—
and she was.
SheJeft me at last, but there was an un
defined presence of ill left in my room
that made me stand with clasped bands
and fixed eyes long, long after the sound
of her footsteps had died away.
“Bat I'll love him more, more
Than e’er wife loved before,
Be the days dark or bright.”
[to bk continued.]
BOBSFORD S ACID PHOSPHATE.
Specific Virtues in Dyspepsia.
Dr. A. Jenkins, Great Falls, N. H.,
says: “I can testily to its seemingly
almost specific virtues in cases of dys
pepsia, nervousness and morbid vigilance
or wakefulness.”
“A MOUNTAIN PINK.”
A New .lersey Negress Who Ip I If* VeaiS
Old.
The oldest person, perhaps, now living
in the United States, says the Phila
delphia Jtecord, is Sylvia Duhoiee, a
negress and former slave, who, in August
last, celebrated her llCtb birthday, and
who lives i: Tc-it' • ' nor. the bit ik sum
mit of tLi-S ii "'jr u ;jir.iii Hunter
don cni:- ' J v. in a little
Irame eal • - o. c- room hardly large
enough * ' he swinging of a cat, and
which is hidden amid the stunted under
brush and but£: boulders that lend a
rugged and barren pieturt squeness to the
lone spot, this famous “mountain piuh"
drags out her buidensome life, attended
by her “baby" as she calls her youngest
daughter, Elizabeth Alexander, who is
herself TO years of age.
VvTien a reporter, after a wearisome
climb ot miles, reached the cabin the
other day be found thev. nerable human
relic stirring up wash clothes that were
in a boiler on the stove, while the “baby,”
lusty and stout limbed, was chopping
wood, swinging her ax with the skill and
strength ot an Amazon. For half a cen
tury old Sylvia has lived upon the identi
cal spot upon which|bercabin now stands.
The structure in which all tlcse >ears
were passed had begun to tumble in sheer
decay about her. lor it was a bold target
for the fierce winds that sw p with hur
ricane-like iury over the top of the old
gray mountain. It at last Ix-eame not
even tit, shelter f> r a beast. Her condi
tion excited the commiseration ol ltev.
Mr. Ferris, a mountain missionary, who
succeeded in interesting the ladies of the
Preslyterian Church, at Flemington, ten
miles away, in her behalf. They raised
the money iorthe budding of anew cabin,
and into this she lias just moved. The
structure is not lathed or plastered, and
there is no carpet on the floor. The old,
lady sleeps on a cot while her daughter
reposes on an old straw mattress,in the
loft, which l without a window and is
reached by the aid of a primitive ladder.
Where is not a article of comfort
about the place and hardly the neces
saries of life. But the new bouse is a
palace in comparison with the old one.
The centenarian is remarkably pre
served for so great an age. She says that
she can hear "puny good,” Her eyesight
is excellent and she never wore “specs.”
She can boast of the possession of one
sound tooth, and says that since she was
30 years old she has drawn‘‘crumbs of
C'initort” from a clay tobacco pipe. “1
think as much of and told clay pipe as [ do
of my darter over yander,” she remarked.
The old lady is densely ignorant, never
even having been taught to read or write,
and this, combined with her clouded
memory, prevented her telling much
about "herself. But ti e daughter says
that her age is fully attested bv an entry
of her birth in the family Bible of Maj.
Baird, to whom her lather, a slave, be
longed. S'-e was born near Rock Mills,
at the edge of the Somerset Mountain, in
Somerset county, N. J. When a girl she
was sold or given to a man named I)u
--boice, who lived at Great Bend, on the
north branch of the Susquehanna rivet
in Pennsylvania. She says she operated
a ferry for her master, and took bis name
When she reached her ISth vear, and was
her own master, Duboice furnished her
with a paper setting forth that she was a
free woman. Armed with this she re
turned to Jersey, which was at that time
a slave State.
Her father served as a lifer in the Oonti
! nental army, in the command of Mnj.
i Baird, his master. lie participated in a
number of battles. She has no memory
i lor events, and gets the Revolution sadly
j mixed with the war of 1812. '-the Is tin
mother of three children, the eldest
Judith Roberts.w hose age is B;’,years,living
at Princ ton, N. J. Slie cannot recall the
ages of 1 er father or mother when they
died, but says her son-in-law, Francis
Grazer, died in Philadelphia during the
Centennial, at th age of 104 years. Old
Silvia is as “pert as a cricket,” can walk
about unaided and is Lut little stooped
from age. Two years ago she made a
.indTney to Lambertville, and then to New
Egypt. Her life has Ixen published in
book lorm by Prof. Lai icon, of Ringoes,
and has had a large sale in that section.
M rs. Alexander told the reporter that she
had to take as tender care of her mother
as though she were a baby. The
doct >r will not permit her to take medi
cine, but prescribes nourishing food.
These old women subsist wholly upon
charity. The daughter regretted that,
owing to the care required by the mother,
she is unable to go out to work lor their
support, and the consequence is that they
are in great destitution. Did Sylvia needs
clothes, an easy-chair and, worse still,
nourishing food. Her extraordinary age
and helplessness appeal strongly fo the
charitable.
JACKSON’S FIRMNESS.
How He Dealt witli an Effete European
Monarch.
When Gen. Jackson became President,
says Ben: l’erley Poore in Boston Budget ,
he found that France owed the United
States 25,000,000 francs, which he re
solved, “by the Eternal,” should be
paid. Andrew Stevenson and William S.
Archer, both of Virginia, were candi
dates for the French mission, but it was
given to another applicant from the same
State, AVilliam C. Rives. Mr. Stevenson
afterwards received the mission to Lon
don; and Mr. Archer, rather piqued,
joined the ranks of the opposition.
Mr. Rives made but little headway un
til Louis Phillippe came into power, when
the treaty was signed. Great was the
rage of whiskered Frenchmen, who as
serted that Louis Phillippe had bought up
a large portion of the claims, and thus
robbed the French treasury in order to
fill bis own pockets. Mr. Rives, on the
contrary, was in high spirits, and it is as
serted that only eight days after the
treaty was signed, he wrote a dispatch to
Mr. Forsyth, secretary of State, in which
he boasted that he had effected a treaty
which all his predecessors had tailed to
accomplish, and by which he had gulled
and out-geueraled the French Ministry,
ana induced it to “pay not only every
just and legal claim, but many claims
that were considered desperate and doubt
ful.”
This was, perhaps, pardonable in a
young and ardent man, but Mr. Forsyth
did very wrong in permitting the letter to
be made public, as subsequent events
proved. By the condition of the treaty
the indemnity of 25,000.000 francs was to
be paid in instalments, and Mr. Wood
bury, Secretary of the Treasury, was in
structed to draw immediately ior one of
the installments. He did draw, and the
draft came back dishonered and protested,
and lor the reason that the French Cham
ber of Deputies had refused to make an
appropriation to fulfill the treaty which
LouisPhillippe had signed and sanctioned.
And the reason assigned by the Cham
bers for their refusal was that tbe Ameri
can Minister in bi 9 dispatches to his gov
ernment had boasted that he s-vissdled tl.a
King and the Due de Broglie. In the
meantime Mr. Rives came home, and the
late Edward Livingston was dispatched
to the Court of St. Cloud, instructed to
demand the immediate fulfillment of the
conditions of the treaty ot July 4, 1831,
and, in the event ol his’ meeting with any
obstacles to the object of his mission, to
demand his passports and retire to Eng
land. He was coldly received; the Cham
bers refused to make any appropriation,
and Mr. Livingston, as instructed, de
manded bis passports and retired to Lon
don. Thus stood the case until the month
of January, 1835, when Gen. Jackson
issued a special message recommending
the issue of letters of marque and reprisal
againt French commerce. The message
was referred to the Committee of Foreign
Affairs, Mr. Edward Everett, Chairman,
in the House, and to the Corresponding
Committee of the Senate, of which Mr.
Clay was the head. The Committee of
the House reported in accordance with
the message of the President; but that of
the Senate unanimously reported that
nothing should be done until further in
formation was received from France.
Louis Phillippe managed to have the in
demnity paid, though the French nation
was almost unanimously opposed to it,
and certainly there was anything but af
fection manifested.
Spanned by Three Lifetime*.
Buffalo Courier.
An illustration ot how long a period
can be covered by three lives, if they hap
pen to be long ones, was recently fur
nished in Buffalo. Within two years a
peflpn going up Delaware avenue could
have caught a glimpse through a window
of a hale old gentleman who in his youth
had seen an old man who had when him
self a boy known Peregrine White, the
first white child born in New England,
having come Into this world on board the
good ship Mayflower while that vessel lay
in Provinceton Labor before the landing
on Plymouth Rocfc had been made. Theo
dore Parker once said that eighteen old
men touching each other’s hands carried
us back to Christ.
AN ANCIENT HOMAN ELECTION.
How tli<* Romas Worked tbe
I’Mw irtn for His Vote.
From reDub ican Rome—our early
teacher, says Eugene Lawrence.—we iKo
-row most of our p >!ical ideas, and even
language. Our elections -..arv a little
from those of the Roman forum. To the
Latins wc owe our candidates and our
rators, cur triauniiian arts and tribuni
*cm veto, the ballot and ballot-box. the
register and the polling, the conception of
p -' sanai ini' penden<-e, the sovereignty of
the people. The free Romanjsvonld bow
to no man; and Cicero and Ctvsar were
forced to solicit the votes of their fellow
citizi-iis with a humility that was never
feigned. •
To obtain an office- at Rome the candi
date toiled for months. and ov n years.
Clad in his white robe he walked the fo
rum and ihe busc streets of ti e city, sa
luting every one, asking votes and "seek
ing vwi.it e now call popularity, lie
spoke l" every citizen he met familiarly,
he ,rasped hU hand, Le begged his sup
port; lie spoke ot his own merits, decried
his opponent, promised to advocate some
literal measure, and sometimes a brine.
Cicero, who was above bribery, has left
us in his letters a curious picture of the
toils, anxieties and interior lile of the Ro
man --undulate.
An t-ledum day at Rome was a scene of
singular excitement. Every year the
Chid Magistrates of Italy were renewed,
and every year the voters crowded the
capital. The eitv w as agitated by intense
patty feeling. The rural population from
Latium and the distant colonies from
over the Tiber hastened to exercise the
prized right of suit - : age. Chariots tilled
with citizens came from the Sabine vil
lages. footmen crossed the Sublician
bridge, a great multitude wandered
through the streets of Rome, astonished
at the magnificence of the city.
If it was a Consular election (he people
gathered at suurise in the Campus Mar
uus, where the voting was to rake place,
fue candidates, in their white robes, be
fore daybreak were seen mingling with
the voters, followed by their partisans,
and proclaiming Unit- political princi
ples. Sometimes they stood on a high po
sition, where they could be seen bv ail;
sometimes the great multitude covered
the tops ol the houses, and tilled the ex
tensive plain from the capital to the
river.
At length, at the sound of a horn, the
voters assembled in the Campus Martius.
11 the auspices were favorable and no
peal of thunder heard, a standard was
raised on the Janicuium, and the Consul
began the ceremonies with prayers and
sacrifices; the people, deeply superstiti
ous, awaited awe-stricken until In closed.
The spectacle was one of rare interest; it
was an assemblage ot Roman treemcii. In
the late comitia, at least, all were equal.
The rich noble, accustomed to luxury and
power; the cquites, who had sprung Ironi
poverty to wealth; the pr *sp< rous trad
ers of the forum and tsvibu; i.i. the farm
ers, even sometimes the Ire*-timea, the
manumitted slaves—were blended In the
Roman law into one harmonious and uto
momarj equality. Each was gifted with
a vote.
The voting next began. The excitement
rose. The people, arranged in centuries
• v hundreds, passed over a bridge of w ood
into the poring place, lit re, n the earlier
age, they voted < rally and later with
wooden tablets. Each vole was recorded
and counted atem-e. and the result an
nounced. The ballot-box and the register
w ere watched over bv citizens ot undoubt
ed honor, and fraud was scarcely possi
ble. As on* by one the centuries gave in
their ballots the excitement was te
doubled. The candidates and the people
bung bn athtess upen the cries of the her
alds us they proclaimed the progress ol
the election.
Livy has left many pictures of these
fierce political struggles. Now on one
side, now on another, the balance hung.
At last it w’as lived forever. A Sc-ipio, a
Cato, a Gracchus, aCa sar had triumphed,
and the victqfisishout, din a wild strain of
Southern enthusiasm that echoed iar
away over the eapitol and the crowded
hills’. The beaten patty turned silently
homeward. The excitement was over, and
the Roman voters went quietly again to
their usual pursuits.
For 400 years, at least, every year the
Romans gave m their votes on the field of
Mars. At length an Emperor—a tyran—-
swept away the polls and tbe polling
places, Despotism reigned over man for
ten centuries; the very conception of a
popular election and of popular rule had
perished; the right of sutli age—tbe pledge
of independence—died. It was revived
in the republics of the middle ages; it
lived in the homes of the workingmen; it
passed lo Holland and to England; it
crossed the seas to New England and
sprang up in rare strength. It has
spread once more to Italy, to Germany-, to
every European State, never again to
sink before the rage of a despot or perish
in the poisonous embrace ot slavery.
A DARKEY’S ADVENTURE.
A Trip in an Elevator, and Almost a
Leap to Death.
With visions of sand-baggers, mur
derers, garroters, robbers and thieves
floating through his disordered mind, says
the New Orlean Picayune of Dec. 13, a
country negro on Monday last airived in
New Orleans, to colieci some money due
him as a section band on the Illinois
Central Railroad. Some otiß directed him
to the Cotton Exchange, where-the office
of the company is located, and the darkey
wandered all around the first floor in
search of the Paymaster, without finding
him, however, lie finally reached the
rear end of the building, and espying a
door open, which led into a snug little
room lighted with ga9, with a neat, clean
and comfortable looking bench running
across at one end, the darkey concluded
that this was a waiting-room, such as are
common at the little way stations on the
railroad, and he unhesitatingly walked
in.
A white man was sitting on a stool in
one corner and he asked the darkey what
he wanted.
“The Paymaster of the Jackson Road,”
he replied.
He did not up to this moment suspect
this individual of any bad intentions to
ward him, and therefore stretched forth
his enormous feet and leaned back com
fortably In his seat.
He was no sooner safely ensconced
when the white man jumped up, pulled
an iron wire door shut with a clang,
snatched hold of a rope, ana before the
negro could catch his breath he was
whirled upward through a dark passage at
what he considered a terrific rate of
speed.
In an instant it flashed through his
mind that this was some infernal contri
vance to twist him up to some place
above, where be could be comfortly mur
dered and quartered, perhaps, without
any one knowing what had becomeof him.
Hi's astonishment gave way to terror,and
as the elevator had reach thefourth floor the
darkey wa9 on his feet. The white man
pulled open a door ami with a bound the
now thoroughly sprang
out into the hall.
Following his nose he ran into a tele
phone box just as a call was being rung,
and with a yell of mortal terror he rushed
back into the hallway. He then ran back
screaming “murder” at the top of bis i
voioe. He made for a window opening on 1
Varieties Alley, and in the room of Mr.
O’Shaughnessy, secretary to Supt. C. M.
Sheafe, of tbe Illinois Central Railroad.
By this time the clerks, having heard
his cries, had rushed out into the hallway,
and the sight ol so many faces only in
tensified bis fears, and when Willie Flynn
attempted to seize him he made sure that
he had fallen into the haunts of a gang of
brigands.
The negro reached the window, threw
up the sash, and was about to jump out
from the fourth story into the alley below,
when Mr. Flynn and the colored porter
reached his side and seized him. The
negro yelled for mercy, but when he saw
the porter, he became somewhat reas
sured, and permitted himself to be led to
the stairway, and he went down three
steps at a time and has not been seen
since.
He will doubtless return to his country
home and relate to awe-stricken triads
what a narrow escape he had from being
murdered and chopped into mince meat.
Moxday last an octopus was caught in
Commencement Bay, Oregon, in about 300
feet of water by fish hooks. When brought to
the surface it was almost unmanageable, and
it was only by a severe struggle that it was
hauled into a boat and brought ashore. Once
it seized upon the bottom of the boat, and no
effort could loosen It, until It did so of its own
accord after the vessel was eet in motion.
One of its feelers came in contact with one of
the boy’s arms, and it was only induced to
let go by heating the feeler to a jelly with a
club. It is plenty large enough to master a
man, and would be a dangerous customer to
meet in the water. It was a monster speci
men, Having arms or feelers fully four feet
long. The arms are eight in number, and arc
each supplied with 120 pairs of suckers, by
which they seize and hold their prey, its
body is purse shaped, without fins, and is a
foot long, and nearly the same in width.
tfsrurototto.
T O~THJB
| SEW ORLEANS EXPOSITION
r* 9 1 . 3 £5!
*
Tie Savaiai, Flo iOa anfl
Westom Railway
Will sol! Hound Trhi Tickets between Savan
na!i and New Orleans,
COMMENCING DEC. 15,
For 521.5 5,
GOOD FOE 15 DAYS-
T_> \ST MAIL TRAIN train leaves Savannah
r 7:01 a. m. daily, arriving at New Orleans
at 7:45 tlie following morning.
Pullman Buffet Drawing Boom
Sleeping Cars without change i'rom
Way cross to New Orleans in close
conneelion with same service on
above train from Savannah.
tickets sold, Pullman Car accommodations
secured and information given at HUES' •
T cket. Ofti e. 22 B 11 street, and at the Pas
senger Station, foot of Libe t v street.
TiCKETi
—TO
HEW ORLEANS EXPOSITION
AND RETURN
GOOD FOR 15 DAYS,
WILL BE ON* SALE AT
Central Railroad Ticket Off ces,
20 Bull street and at Depot,
Oil and Alter Dee. 15.
Also, at all Coupon Ticket Offices of
F e Central R.R. or Ga. System.
WilerExcaisiou&ToarmTicttls
Are also on sale to the Exposition.
IT'OR Rates, Sleeping Car Accommodation
" and other information an ly at f'i<k t
■ (Bee of Centra! It ilro td. 20 Bull street, sa
vannah, Ga. GEO. A. WHITEHEAD.
Gen Passenger Agt, savannah, Ga.
.1. C. H W Ticket Agent,
20 Bull street, -avanuah. Ga.
211 ill for Sale
A Business Opportunity Barely Of
fered —A Well Appointed Bice Mill
Tor Siale.
ryiKE undersigned offers for sale the E'i
-1 TEItPHISt .MILL, located on the Savan
nah, Florida and Western Haile ay, at (tie
foot of Huntingdon street. The property has
a front on the railway of 203 feel and a mean
depth of 205 feel, making an area of nearly
one acre of ground.
The improvements consist of a well ap
pointed Rice and Grist. Mid, with all neces
sary, conveniences fordoing a milling bnsines
at the smallest possible epense and with the
greatest possib e number of conveniences to
secure celerity, dispatch, torrectness and
economic management.
iho Corn Mill is supplied with 44-fee top
runners of French burr mill stores, and all
necessary bolieis, fans. etc., and has an aver
age capacity of let) bushels of inea. and grits
per hour.
Attached to the Corn Mill is a Gran Eleva
tor, with capacity of 10,ii00 bushels of bulk
corn, and a Warehouse 110 feet lot g by 22
feet wide.
The Uice Mill is supplied with every con
venience known t. the business, am, has a
capacity of 60 barrels of clean rice per day of
eleven fiours.
Attached to the mill is a tire-proof (iron)
Warehouse 100 feet square and about 25 feet
high in the clear. The storage capacity of
this house is 1,200 barrels of clean rice, 18.000
bushels of bulk rice and 20,0t0 bushels sacked
rice, with necessary bins to separate different
marks.
The motive power consists of one 80-horse
power and one 50-horse powerenmne; every
thing being in runningorder and in use. There
is also complete complement of scales, meas
ures and usual convci ienecs for doing business.
The local advantages of this site are such
that running is done at a minimum cost.
Wood can be purchased on the line of railroad
and delivered on the premises without cost
other than from lirst hands.
The Mills are connected by rail with the
three railroads and with the wharves, and
are thereby enabled to handle large lots of
grain and rice with dispatch, and at the least
poesiblc cost, being provided with the most
approved elevators and conveyers running
from the railroad tract to all portions of the
building.
The property is so arranged that either mill
can be moved without detriment to the other.
There is also a lot of unused land that can be
sold to advantage for building lots. For
further particulars apply to
HARMON & REMSHART.
Dolt&aq (5oo&o.
Holiday Announcemeni
—OF
WYLLY & CLARKE.
OUR stock of ROOKS. STATIONERY,
FANCY GOODS, TOYS, etc., for the
Holidays is large and varied, and having bet n
selected with care from the best manufacturers
and publishers, we ask an inspection by our
patrons ami the public generally.
STAND AUD BOOKS. POETICAL WORKS,
JUVENILE and TOY BOOKS, ALBUMS.
SCRAP BOOKS, Etc., LADIES’ WORK
BASKETS and BOXES, DRESSING CASES,
WRITING DESKS (Foreign and Domestic),
GOLD PENS and PENCILS, POCKET
BOOKS, CARD CASES, Etc.
In addition to our large stock of Books, etc.,
we have a full line of TOY'S of all kinds, to
gether with a fine line of SKIN ANIMALS,
which we are offering at low prices.
CHRISTMAS CARDS.
Our stock of CHRISTMAS CARDS is from
the house of Prang & Cos. and other leading
publishers, and for numbers and c egance
cannot be surpassed In ativ house in the city.
Lot PRAY'ERS and HYMNALS just re
cel v°d.
WYLLY & CLARKE,
Corner Whitaker and St. Julian streets.
HOLIDAY GOODS.
ODOR STANDS, Odor Cases, Dressing
Cases, Vases, Gents’ Traveling Cases, La
dies.’Hand Bags, Visiting Card Cases, Beau
tiful Cologne Bottles, Pesfumery ot all kinds,
and a variety of goods too numerous to men
tion, at
STRONG’S DRUG STORE.
Corner Bull and Perry street lane.
9otelo.
St. James Hotel,
TAMPA, FLA.,
THOMAS WHITE, Manager.
PROMPT attention given toorders for rooms
by telegraph. The house is pleasantly
located either for business, travelers or pleas
u reseekers.
HARNETT HOUSE
SAVANNAH, CA.,
18 conceded to be the most comfortable aad
by far the best conducted Hotel in Savan
nah. Rates: $2 per day.
M-L. HARNETT.
fattitieve.
Henry R. Jaceson. J. Lawton Whatley.
JACKSON & WHATLEY,
ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELORS AT LAW,
SAVANNAH, GA.
Office 11 Bryan street.
1 Boofo an Shore.
NEWS FROM THE
Oil! lie Fii” Slid Store
13. ®^Vu4J3TJ>l'^i£-l.
As we have steadily increased our already fine stock of Cants’,
Ladies’and Children’s Shoes, tve can cluitu tlie best line iuthe
city. TVe would impress upon the public that we hold ourselves responsible
for all line goods sold by us. There is no sh p-worn stock sold by ns, as our
goods are all new, and we are constantly receiving fresh supplies.
In our Hat and Cap Department we fear uo competition, asonrassort
incut ol stales Is uueqaaled by any store in the city. ur special line of
t'hil t en’s Fancy Caps is pronounced a beautiful assortment, embracing the
latest styles and designs.
Aw inspecti' u of onr Trunks and Satchels is solicited to prove that
o-r p; ices of these articles are at the very lowest possible figures.
For the Holidays we have jest opened a fine linB of Gents’Embroidered
Slippers and Silk mbrelias.
As we sell strictly for cash we are enabled to mark our goods at lowest
possible prices, and as everyth!, g is marked in plain figures fair dealing is
assured to all by our One Price System!
COLLAT BROS.,
1 lf 11 HOITfJ ITTON STREET.
Pvt) and (Tarprta.
P A D D W rf l Cj f
vj ii XL r jj 1 u !
*CUT, MADE AXD LAID.
WELTON VELVETS, at *l 50 per yard. BODY BRUSSELS,
at SI SO p> r yard. TAPISTiiY BRUSSELS, at 80c. per yard.
3-PLYS, at. 92c. per yard. INGRAINS, ranging
from 25 cents to 75 cents per yard.
These prices are cot only equal, but LESS than those of any first-class New York House.
SMYRNA UU..B and MATS lrom $1 ■-'> to $5 00 each. A full line of FRESH CANTON
MATTING on Laid. 1 would respectfully call attention to my
NEW FALL STOCK OF DRY GOODS!
In \v!> oh will be found everythirs fresh ..nd desirable for the present and approaching
season. Silks. Satins, lirocadis, Ye Velveteens, Cashmeres, 1 funnels and Fancy Dress
Materials in great vnr etv.
BLACK AND CO .OREO SILKS AM) SATINS
Have been selected with siieci.il care, and the LOW PRICKS at whie.lt they arc offered should
command the attention of closed A SIX BUYERS.
TfE MOUIixM a, {) E I.\ 2*131 EN r r
Has been 'horongltly FILLED WITH FRENCH AND ENGLISH PRODUCTIONS.
Conriauld’s Ui SrbraG and English Civpes and Veils a Specialty !
500 Boy’s Knee Pant Suits ranging in price from $2 to $lO 00.
350 Misses’ Worsted Suits —sizes 2 to 14 years, and price Front $1 OO to
sl> 00.
D A XIEI j TL O <3r AN,
Corner Barnard and Broughton Streets.
Slipprvo, <f-tc.
Will Offer lor the Next Ten Rays a Largo and
Varied Assortment of
ELEGANT TOILET SUPPERS,
Comprising All styles and Sizes for Ladies, Gents and Botr.
Gents’ Velvet Embroidered Opera Slippers.
Gents’ Velvet Embroidered Em’ett slippers.
Gents’ Cloth Embroidered Toilet slippers.
Gents’ Brown Alligator Opera Slippers.
Gents’ Maroon Goat Opera Slippers.
Gents’ tint* Patent Leather Pumps.
Boys’ Fine Patent Leather Pumps,
Boys’ Brown Alligator Opera Slippers,
Ladies* Toilet Slippers in various style*) also a lull line of
undies’ Fine Nickel Framed Bags and Satchels,
All of which arenot only Useful Articles, but are very appropriate for A HOLIDAY"
1 RESENT. An early caU is suggested, before the choicest styles are sold.
JOS. ROSENHEIM & CO.,
141 CONGRESS STREET,
feather, ffrunho, <Btr.
HORSE BLANKETS and LAP ROBES
HOUSE BLANKETS AND LAP ROBES.
HOUSE BLANKETS AND LAP ROBES.
A FINE ASSORTMENT OF—
BUGGY HARNESS ANT) SADDLES.
HEADQUARTERS FOR
BELTING, LACING, HOOKS and RIVETS, GUM, HEMP and USUDURIAN
PACKING, GIN ROLLER STRIPS and BRISTLES.
army McClellan saddles.
CALL AND GET OUR PRICES BEFORE PURCHASING.
E. L. NEIDUNGER, SON & CO.,
156 ST. JULIAN & 153 PRY AN STS.. SAVANNAH, CA.
frim HJorho.
KEHOE’S IRON WORKS!
(FORMERLY PIKE NIX IRON WORKS),
VANNAH, GEORGIA.
WE desire to call particular attention to the SUGAR SXIUT.S
AND PANS of our manufacture. These Mills are made in the
W best possible manner, with heavy wrought iron shafts, and rollers
B of the best charcoal pig iron, all turned up
m V true. They are strong and durable, run per
fectly even, and are guaranteed to grind the
heaviest, fully-matured cane. Our Pans being
with the bottoms down possess smooth-
ST. tSaaMag-, JOB ness, durability and uniformity of thickness vvflflßHHß
™^& ! ‘ /^Bfar superior to those made in the usual wav.
¥4mm JHP All our Mills are fully Warranted for One Year, and our
PRICES ARE GUARANTEED TO BE AS LOW AS ANY
of kehoe & co.
CMF* N. B.—The Name Rehoe’s Iron Works Is cast on all our Hills and Pans.
lUatrljro attfc Jctoclri?.
A. L. DESBOUILLONS, Jeweler,
21 BULL STREET.
WEDDING PRESENTS
Solid Sterliog Silverware
3VCh CLOCKS.
best manufacturers at the
c 0„“ ,4" ."'ATCIIES and JEWELRY
ci I-a r *°st stock of OPTICAL GOODS in this
{portrait*.
JAS. P. FIELD,
ARTIST.
ORDERS for Portraits in Oil, Pastel and
Crayon solicited. Will take a limited
D Studio, o STREET, Savan
nah, tta.
jOrntlfritr.
tHOLMES’ SURE CUREt
MOUTH WASH and DENTIFRICE
Cures Bleeding Gums, Ulcers. Sore Mouth, Sor
Throat, Cleanses the Teeth ana Purifies the Breath J
used and recommended by leading dentists. Pre
pared by Das. J. P, & W. R. Hoi. mis, Dentists, Macoru
6*. For Solo by U druggists and dcntlsUe