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®lw .Saimmwli ©ribimc Published bv the Tbibunb Publishing Co. 1 J H DEVEAVX, Manager. V R. W. WHITE, Somoitob. ) VOL. 11. MERCER j£)9 St-, Cor. Parlor Goods, Bed Room Suits, DINING AND KITCHEN FURNITURE, CARPETS,MATTING, SHADES, MATS & RUGS. PARLOR STOVES, COOKING STOVES AND RIMES. STOVEWARE, CLOCKS, PICTURES, &c. Be sure to call and buy goods at lowest prices to be found in the city. 8. W. ALTICK. W. B. ALTICK. 11. R. ALTICK. D. A. ALTICK’S SONS SUCCESSORS TO D. A. ALTICK & SONS. HEADQUARTERS FOR BUGGIES, PHAETONS, CARRIAGES AND CELEBRATED McCALL WAGON. New Goods arriving from our factory by every steamer. BROUGHTON AND WEST BROAD STREETS, SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. JOYCE & HUNT, 31 Whitaker Street, Savannah, Georgia —Exclusive Dealers in this Territory for tho Incomparable— lew Hwe Sewing Ifadihe The only Machine that has a Perfect Automatic Bobbin Winder. Which enables the operator to wind a perfect bobbin without any aid from the operator. ALSO A(iENT FOR- The Mod and Nov EWand Piaaos, AND 7 Kimball, Clough & Warren Palace Organs. Til Pint it kj Ils M snis for tit Lust fay TEEPLE & CO.’S, 193 and 195 Broughton t** t. GALL AT OUR STORE! If you want Furniture, Mattings, Window Shades, Refrigeratory Bed-Springs, Mattresses, Cooking Sieves, or anything in the Housekeeping Line, it will pay you to call on us before buying elsewhere. New Goods Constantly Arriving. TEEPLE fc CO., 193 and 195 Broughton St., Between Jefferson and Montgomery. JOB PRINTING Neatly and Expeditiously EXECUTED AT THIS OFFICE I SAVANNAH GA.. SATURDAY. DECEMBER 25.1886. “None Will Miss Thee.” Few wiil miss thee, Friend, when tho For a month in dust hast lain.. Skillful hand, and anxious brow, Tongue of wisdom, busy brain— All thou wert shall be forgot, And thy place shall know thee not. Shad ows from the bending trees O'er thy lowly head may [>ass, Siglis from every wand ring breeze • Sth- the long, thick, churchyard grass Wilt thou heed tliem! No; thy sleep Shall be dreamless, calm and deep. Some sweet bird may sit and sing On the marble of thy tomb, Soon to flit on joyous wing From that place of death and gloom, On some boughs to warble clear; But t hese songs thou shalt not hear. Some kind voice may sing thy praise. Passing near thy place of rest, Fondly talk of “other days”— But no throb within thy breast Shall respond to words of praise, Or old thoughts of “other days - ” Since so fleeting is thy name, Talent, beauty, power and wit, It were well that without shame Thou in God’s great book wert writ, There in golden words to be Graven for eternity. —Chamber’s Journal. Saved by a Convict. Heavy chains were about his ankles, handcuffs upon his wrists and the brand of crime was on. his low forehead, on his dark features and in his fierce, wolf ish eyes. There he stood, an outcast from the pale of human kindness, the convict, Mark Mold, oa the dock of the passen ger ship Briton, the captain of which, for a certain sum paid by the law officers, had consented to take him, with several others of his stamp, to Botany Bay, as room could not be found for these crim inals aboard tho transport vessel, anchored a mile below, and which had been packed to overflowing ere the pris oners were brought to it. While Mark still waited on deck for the officers to stow him in the dark hold with his fellows, a boat from the Liver pool dock came alongside with several passengers, among them a handsome lady of thirty, Mrs. Howland, wife of Col. Howland, quartered with his regiment near Port Jackson, Australia, where she was going to join him, and her little daughter Grace, a beautiful child of six years. As Mrs. Howland was assisted up the gangway she noticed Mark Mold and shuddered. “You need not be afraid, ma’am,” said the captain. “The criminals will be kept in the hold chained; they can do you no harm.” “Can you not send them away from here? I wish you would.” “I regret that I cannot, as I have agreed to take them.” Descending into the cabin, the lady sat, unable to rid herself of the feeling ol alarm excited by the presence of the convicts aboard the vessel. She at length concluded to go ashore and endeavor to persuade the shipowners to have the criminals taken off the craft. But ere she could proceed to execute her plan the Briton was under weigh. As day after day passed, bright little I cherub, Grace, spread light and throughout the vessel. The rough sailors would smile, their brown faces softening when she ventured among them. They always had a pleasant word for her, for her winning little ways had made her a favorite with ail, from the eabin boy up to Ben. Hays—the oldest seaman aboard. She would walk forward, the first thing df a morning, and shake hands with each one; her mother, smilingly permitting such freedom on the part of her child. Ono day, having heard that the crew did not fare as sumptuously as the passengers, Grace, instead of eating I her piece of poundcake at the cabin table, took it forward among the sailors, I and made each of them take a big bite, saying she would tell the captain to send them a basketful. Soon she noticed on deck the convict —Mark Mold—who, having been taken ill in the confined air below, had beeu relieved of his chains and led up to breathe tho fresh air. A pleased look crossed his haggard face as he inhaled the pure breeze, and, looking out on the broad, blue, rolling ocean, he seemed at once to get stronger and bet ter. “Won’t you have some? Here, take it; you may have it all,” fell a childish voice on his ear, and looking down, he saw Grace at his knee, holding up her cake. lie seemed about to put. his hand on her head, when Mrs. How land gently but quickly drew the child away. The man showed no emotion at this action of the lady. It was natural tho mother shoul 1 deem there was con tamination—poison—in his touch; that she should not have permitted him even to lay his hand on the golden hair of the child. “You must never go nca. that bad man again,” said Mrs. Howland. “Why, mamma, isn’t he a little good? I’ve heard uncle—and he is a minister, mamma—say that every one Ls a little good.” “You have heard him say that the worst person has some good quality, but I differ with him. 1 don’t believe that convict, who, I have learned from the captain, was a thief, house-breaker and drunkard for years, has a single good trait.” Just as she spoke a heavy squall struck the ship, hurling her down almost on her beam ends, and driving her through the water with everything humming. The wind blew with terrific force and the vast ocean was veiled for miles by the whirling, driving spray, which flew like snow-flakes all round the vessel, shrouding her in a white mist:. Suddenly there was a wild shriek from Mrs. II >wland, as little Gr.ie •, who had attempted to run into the cabin, was literally blown to leeward into the sea. “My child ! O God ! save my child!” screamed the distracte I mother, whose voice, however, was marly drowned by the booming thunder of wind and ocean, the rattling of canvass, the slatting of sheets and ropes and the swash ing, hissing noise of the sweeping spray. The sailors looked, with appalled faces, on the form of Grace as she was borne along by the merciless waves. Not one of them dared to venture over board in that tempest, and as to lower ing a boat, it was simply impossi ble, as no boat could live in such a storm. «, “Save her. Will no one save my child?” screamed Mrs. Howland, confronting the seamen with clasped hands and frenzied, beseeching eyes. They looked at each other, and not one moved, for all felt that certain death awaited the man who should plunge in that wrathful ocean. But Mark Mold plunged overboard, and the mother clung to a backstay, eagerly watching for his reappearance. But, seeing noth ing of him, she bowed her head on the rail, moaning and raving like a ma niac. Still raged the storm and on tore the ship, further and further from the place where the man and chil l had gone over board. The seamen changed ominous glances and shook their heads. Soon the squall sweeping far away to leeward, the ship righted, and the sun gleamed from a clear sky upon a clearing sea. w Front the captain, who, having now brought his ship to, with maintopsail aback, had run alolt, a wild cry went ringing to the heavens sending an elec trict thrill of joy to the hearts of all on deck. “I see something two milts off the lee quarter. God grant it be the man and child I” His boat was soon down with good oarsmen in it—with Mrs. Howland full of wild anxious hope in the stern sheets. Nearer to that distant speck drew the boat. “There he is I” cried the watchful captain, at last. “I think—l believe— but am not certain—he—yes, yes, thank God, be has the child. ” “Yes, there was Ute convict in the ($1.25 Per Annum; 75 cents for Six Months; - 50 cents Three Single Copies ( Scents —In Advance. water, holding up the child that the mother might see it. Such a scream of joy as burst from I that mother’s lips it would have done you good to hear. A few minutes later Grace nestled on her bosom, weak and faint, but showing signs of rapid recovery as the happy woman strained her to her breast, | showering kiss after kiss upon her ■ face. Almost exhausted to unconsciousness, I Mark Mold lay in the bottom of the boat, scarcely henring the mother —hardly feeling the pressure of her lips upon his J hands—when, at length, she turned ta.j| him, warmly expressing her gratitude. Now she recognized tho truth of tho | saying that the worst person is not with out some good trait, and very glad sho was that she hid fiot succeeded in hav ing the convicts removed from the ship when she first discovered they were aboard. Os course, had they been taken away, Mark Mold would have gone with them and her child would have been lost. On arriving at Port Jackson, Mrs. Howland related to her husband, tho colonel, the gallant conduct of Mark Mold, who, thereafter, was constantly befriended, during his hard prison life, by the grateful officer. This kind treatment, the first he had ever received from a human being sinco he became an outlaw, hud a softening effect on Mark’s character, and he con ducted himself so well that the colonel at length succeeded in obtaining for him a commutation of his penalty, which J had been for twenty years, to naif that time. '’'-r When at last the prisoner was dis charged, the colonel procured him cm ployment, and the liberated convict be came a steady, honest man. Salt as a Panacea for A,I Ills. A Belgian correspondent of the Chicago Times says in a letter from Belgium: Il have just completed the perusal of a. work entitled: “How to Live one Hun-, <ired Years,” by Dr. Burggraevo, profes sor of the University of Ghent, add pub- > li-hed in that city some live or six days ago. The doctor’s solution of the vexed ” problem, already solved by G. M. Chev- , real of Paris, is one of the simplest kind. -I Salt is the chief, the only medicine for would-be centenarians! Salt, according to the professor, is the great regulating Z L agent in the functions of animal life. If the blood be too rich, salt will reduce it to a healthy, normal condition. If it bo , too poor, salt will supply it with the necessary elements of nutrition. Salt is the panacea for all bodily ills and an antidote for every disease. Twenty grammes of salt should be taken daily by everybody who aspires to M. Chev reui’s longevity, and M. Burggraeve is A quite sure—apart from unforeseen circum stance—that with such a regime he will himself arrive safe and sound at the end of ten decades of existence. As proof of the worth of his remedy he draws g attention to the fact that smallpox was one time successfully combatted in Sax ony by decoctions of salt. Belgian miners are peculiarly exempt from case, because the government supplier them gratuitously with salt. A young ' * man in the last stages of consumplipp "■ asKed the doctor some time .-.go what he should eat. “Eat salt, ” was the reply. He ate salt, for three months, and at the \ end of that time was as stout and robust as any first-class prize fighter. Russian h troops are always supplied with salt ddr- | ing the cholera season and are never afflicted with the epidemic. Not Asking u Great Deal. “I am afraid, B >bby,” said his mother, “that when I tell your papa what a naughty boy you’ve been to-day he will | punish you severely.” “Have you got to tell him?” asked. Bobby, anxiously. i “Oh, yes; I shall tell him immediately after dinner.” - el (The look of concern upon Bobby’s M face deepened, until a bright thought struck him.) . “Well, ma,” he said, “give him njOB better’d inner than usual. You nngbfc NO. 10.