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©lie 'oi'vnuni'ili 'Xribune
Published by the Tbibunf, Publishing Co. )
J H. DEYEAUX. Manages. I
B W. WHITE, Solicitor. )
i 99 Broughton St., Cor. Montgomery.
Parlor Goods, Bed Room Suits,
| DINING AND KITCHEN FURNITURE,
WARPETS, MATTING, SHADES, MATS & RUGS
I PARLOR STOVES, COOKIHG STOVES ARD RANGES.
STOVEWARE, CLOCKS, PICTURES, &c.
Be sure to call and buy goods at lowest prices to be found in the city.
gg., —.-U —■ - ...
s. W. ALTICK. W. B. ALTICK. H. R. ALTICK.
D. A. ALTICK’S SONS
SUCCESSORS -TO D. A. ALTICK & SONS.
BUGSIES, PHAETONS, CARRIAGES
New Goods arriving from our factory by every steamer.
BROUGHTON AND WEST BROAD STREETS,
JOYCE & HUNT,
AV li it nice v Street, Savannah, Georgia
—Exclusive Dealers in this Territory for the Incomparable—
lew Bbae Sswing Machine
The only Machine that has a Perfect
Automatic Bobbin Winder.
Which enables the operator to wind a perfect bobbin without any aid
from tho operator
—ALSO AGENT JFOJRt—
Tie Wtalock and Nw EdjM Pianos.
Kimball, Clough & Warren Palace Jrgans.
ft Place io Buy the Best Ms for its Least Money
TEEPLE & CO.’S,
193 and Broughton
CALL AT OUR STORE I
If you want Furniture, Mattings, Window Shades, Refrigerators, Bed-Springs,
Mattresses, Cooking Stoves, or anything in the Housekeeping Line,
it will pay you to call on us before buying elsewhere.
Now Goods Constantly Arriving.
TEEPLE & CO.,
193 and 195 Broughton St., Between Jefferson and Montgomery.
Neatly and Expeditiously
EXEC T JT23 —
AT THIS OFFICE I
SAVANNAH GA.. SATURDAY. JANUARY 8.1887.
A Thousand Years from Now,
Behold the wonders of the world,
Wherever you may be,
The palaces upon the land,
The ships upon the sea;
Go count tho triumphs of mankind
And crown art’s marble brow,
Yet wonder what, this world will be
A thousand years from now!
The temple-, great of Babylon—
Where are they to-day?
And w here is hundred-gated Theba.
All these have passed away!
The mighty walls of queenly Tyre
In pride no longer stand;
What is renowne 1 Palmyra’s site?
A heap of desert .'and!
The palaces that Cyrus built
No longer are sublime;
Old Carthage crumble i long ago
Beneath the hand of time;
And with her pas ecl forever more
Into oblivion’s peace
The glories of her rival, Romo,
’The marble marts of Q reece.
How insignificant is man!
In fame bow strong his trust!
What are the Ptolemies to-day?
A pinch of mummy dust!
And where is Micedoaia’s boy
Who from his gilded throne
Saw all tho nations at his feet?
His very grave’s unknown!
Tribes, nations, kingdoms disappear,
Nor leave a trace behind;
The dust of monarchs long forgot
Is scattered by the wind.
Where is the prophet who can say
Upon what regal brow
The English diadem will rest
A thousand years from now?
Will Venice sit upon the sea
In splendor, as to-day?
Will haughty Paris rule the world
Os fashion, proudly gay?
Say, will the mosque of Omar rise
Above the orient deep?
Will London be a mighty mart,
And not a ruin heap? v
What capitals will crown the plain.
What Empress new will rise?
What peoples, now in darkness held.
Will flourish ’n?uth the skies?
Ah, will the banner of the stars
Crown Freedom's radiant brow,
And float above her capital
A thousand years from now?
Will all the nations be at peace.
If nations then exist?
W ill not a crimson battle plume
Be by the sunshine kiss’d?
And will the glowing firmament
Know not a baneful star?
And not a fragile flower bleed
Beneath the feet of war?
Who knows? Wo cannot look boyo.
The bound'ries where wo stand;
He hold tho many nations in
The hollow of His hand.
He drives the chariot of Timo
Across this flying clod I
The past is dead, to day is ours,
Tho future is with,God!
—7'. C. Harbaugh.
“Oh, Tilly McEwcnsl I never saw the
likes of you!”
“Sh-hl" .‘aid Miss McEwcns, her black
eyes dancing with fun.
“It’s the queerest thing that you can’t
tell your own mind," resumpd Poll Evans.
“It would take a power of talk, though,
to make me think you ain’t putting some
of it on. I guess if L had two after
“Oh, pshaw, Poll, wait till you know
something about it. Y r ou never had a
beau in your life, and I’ve had a dozen
or so. And now I mean to get mar
Well, said Poli, rather sullenly, “I
ain’t so old as you. Anyway, I expect
always to beeharpenough to know which
of two things I like best.”
“Sharp isn't the word, Poll. It’s not
a que-tion of fortune. I don’t know
whether I’d prefer to bo Mrs. Jones, the
Wife of the jeweler, or Mrs. Johnson, the
wife of one of the bosses of the mills. 1
don’t know whether I like best Jones’s
blue eyes—and I adore blue eyes— or John
son’s black mustache and I love a black
mustache. Oh 1 there never was a girl
in such a quandary I”
It was about a week after this that Miss
McEwcns came home to supper with a
tragic face, and a letter in her pocket.
Pull, in the doorway, nudged her, and
printed to her plate on the dining table,
beside which lay another letter. Tilly
swept this also into her pocket, ate her
supper in absolute silence, and afterward
beckoaed Full to follow her up stairs.
“Don't say a word,” Miss McEwcns
said, sitting down on the first chair she
came to. “I know all about it. One
letter is from Jones and tho other from
Johnson, and they are both dated to
day. And there you sit and laugh!”
It was not very kind of Poll, but it is
a fact that she had sat down on the bed
and laughed till the tears ran down her
“1 can’t for my life tell which I like
best, Poll, which do you think is
“You ain’t goin’ by anything I say. 1
like Johnson best.”
“Oh, but Jones is more than a gentle
man. Ami they’re both coming here to
night to Ellen Reeves’s surprise party,and
each says I can answer him to-night.
Think of that, Poll," and Miss McEwcns
walked the room desperately; “both
coming for answer to-night.”
“She docs beat the Dutch I” thought
Poll, an hour later, as she watched Tilly
moving about among the noisy and mot
ley gathering below stairs, as gay as the
gayest,her own saucy, indifferent little self
again. In one corner Jones was standing,
stationary as the enormous vase of dried
Howers on the table at his side, over the
top of which he stared at Tilly. In an
other corner Mr. Johnson was trying to
smile at the sallies of a young lady at
his side, and also covertly watching Til
ly, who was an illustration of perpetual
motion. Between talking, laughing,
dancing and flirting, she had not a sec
ond to spare. Shu smiled most sweetly
on her two adorers, but managed to van
ish like a sprite from their immediate
neighborhood. In vain they made mon
uinents of themselves. Tilly would not
notice. But, as fate would have it, she
presently tore a breadth of her dress
For the moment, in her annoyance,she
forgot everything but the accident, and,
with an apology to her partner, whirled
out of the Virginia reel and started for
her own room. I low long she was pin
ning up that breadth she never knew.
When she dared to stay away no longer
she put out her lamp and slowly—very
slowly—began to de cend the stairs. Os
course she at last reached the bottom
stair,upon which she sat down and dole
fully regarded the lines of light under
tho parlor doors, as if they would help
her to a conclusion.
It was but a moment that she sat there,
but in that moment she was teiribly
startled by a sudden movement close by
her in the dark. H r hand was clasped
in two others, and a voice whipered;
“Tilly, I want my answer. Aren’t you
going to give it to me?”
Miss McEwcns was struck dumb.
“Why don't you speak? I know it’s
you;” and a daring hand touched the
short curls on Tilly’s forehead.
Miss McEwcns would have given a deal
to have been as sure of the identity of
the questioner. If he would only speak
aloud, or if some one would open one
of the parlor doors!
“Tilly”— this time the whisper was
urgent —“it’s now or never with mo. If
you don’t give me an up-and-down ‘Yes’
or ‘No’ you’ll never have the chance
The next instant there was r.n excla
mation, somewhere beyond in the dark
space, that sounded very profane. Tho
coat collar of the arm of the individual
nearest Tilly was seized by a third per
son and the lover she bad just accepted
was whirled violently against the oppo
site wall. There was a scufllj in tho
Tilly, little coward that sho was, ut
tered a loud scream and ran back up
stairs as fast as her feet would carry her.
Only two hours, yet it seemed five to her,
before the door was shaken and Foil’s
voice demanded admittance. Til.y sprang
to tho door.
“Oil, Poll," was her first anxious ques
t on, “did either of them hurt tho other
—and which did it?”
“All I kuo w is Johnson’s down stain
now, bound to wait till bo seer you; and
Jones left d.mbit-quick alter tbo set-to.
Bota of ’em was ma 1 enough, if tLat’a
all, but they wan’t hurt to speak of."
Once within the door of tho de: erted
and disordered parlor, Mjm McEwcm
(f 1.25 Per Annum; 75 cents for Six Months;
■< 50 cents Terre Months; Single Copies
( 5 cents—ln Advance.
did not long remain in ignorance os to ]
who her accepted lover was. Two arm® 1
were thrown around her, and two lip. 1
shaded by a black mustache were pressed 1
to her own. Whether Miss McEwcns |
thought regretfully of the blue eyes that ■
were lost forever, I cannot tell. At any j
rate she smiled radiantly enough to make I
Mr. Johnson forget his bruised shoulders 1
and sides, and when, half an hour later, :
Mr. Johnson exclaimed, “How on earth |
Jones ever got into that hall without my |
knowing it, I can’t think—and what wa® j
the good of his pitching into me?” she j
only answered with a laugh;
“Oh, never mind Jones.”
“lie couldn’t stand it to hear you say*
‘Yes’ to mo, Tilly."
“I suppose he thought I meant to say
‘Yes’ to him,” u.. tin; innocent rejoinder.
“He might In ve known better."
Music In Mexico,
The true Mexican, writes Fannie 11.
Warde, loves music better than his din
ner, and the poorest and most ignorant
of these people are natural musicians.
They arc fond of a sorting—not without
truth—that music is but harmony in the
north, while here is the melody. Every
body plays upon some scr of
instrument, und in social life nobody
ever refuses to sing. If I were
asked the name of tlie Mexican
national song I should reply; Not one
of the soul-stiring patriotic anthems, nor
the pathetic “La Golondrina," the
‘•Home, Sweet Home” of Mexico, but
“Il Trovatore." The words are upon
every tongue, us commonly as was “Lily
Dale" and “Mollie Darling" in tho
United States a few years ago. M ”
shout it, old women croon it, girls \
ble it, boys whistle it—in short, it is
better known throughout the eou* ,
than the alphabet, for no Indian jac:.. i >
without some knowledge of it. Besides
singing it, the ladies play it on guitars
ami mandolins, harps and pianos; the
men strum it and toot it on every brass,
silver and string instrument known ami
unknown in the north.
Most of the musi< al instruments in
Mexico are imported from Franco or
Spain. There are few pianos except
among the wealthy of the large cities;
organs are generally confined to tho
churches and me.ode ms live almost un
known. The most common instruments
are harps, guitars sn 1 mando'ins am<tng
tho ladies; soft-tone I saxaphonus^sax
altsy etc., for sentimental serenaders and
reed instruments for the Indians. Tho
humblest pdado has o prubab'y of his
own manufacture, in shape and design
precisely like that with which the Greek
god Pan is picture 1. Anot! or instru
ment much in use among the poorer
classes is a cat-gut strung bow about six
feet long. The perfumer places his
mouth over the middle of the bow,
purses out his lips an 1 tw mgi the string
with his forefinger, about us one doos
u j .-w harp. I cannot speak very highly
of the result, though it pro luces a har»
monious succession of sounds, which
serves well as an accompaniment for
some of the sen elc-.s fUk ■ mgs,
Wiggins and other salsa weathar
prophets should i<: Ith ■ story of Par
tridge, the c lebrated almanac maker of
old England. Travelling in the coun
try, he stopped at an Inn for dinner, and
•.fterwar Ls prepare I to wr.umn his jour
ney. The hostler advised him to stay
v here he wa*, r.s it would certainly r in,
“Nonsense,” said Partridge, and pro
ceeded oa his way. Ho had not gon®
f ir, however, when, suro enough, a heavy
shower of rain ileseended. Struck by
the man’s prod.eik.m, Partridge rode
ba'k, and was received by the hostler
with n grin. T ! < almsnnemaker offered
him half a cio’.vn on cnnfllt’on that h#
told how he knew it was roing to rain.
“Well, the truth is, sir, that we have rm
alm i ac <• re ca ’ed Partridge’s
rod the fellow is such a notorious 11*?
that whero vor lie promises u fir e day
we always know it will l> the opposite
N vz, to-d y, yr 1. r, i»- f ;, ' ,n
tine day in the Arn |
Th're am 3007 urchitvr * ® n d 1178
surveyors In Lculou, while d bu i.uer®