The Savannah tribune. (Savannah [Ga.]) 1876-1960, December 25, 1886, Image 1

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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.