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©lie 'oi'vnuni'ili 'Xribune Published by the Tbibunf, Publishing Co. ) J H. DEYEAUX. Manages. I B W. WHITE, Solicitor. ) VOL. 11. McGILLIS* MERCER 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. A ' HEADQUARTERS FOR BUGSIES, PHAETONS, CARRIAGES AND CELEBRATED McCA.LL WAGON. ♦ New Goods arriving from our factory by every steamer. BROUGHTON AND WEST BROAD STREETS, SAVANNAH, CEORCIA. 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. AND 7 Kimball, Clough & Warren Palace Jrgans. ft Place io Buy the Best Ms for its Least Money —IS A.T- 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. JOB PRINTING 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. TILLY'S CHOICE. “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 me —” “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 ried.” 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 checks. “1 can’t for my life tell which I like best, Poll, which do you think is nicest?” “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 across. 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 again." “Well, then—yes.” 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 dark. 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, »wwc<Wa®R«Fs—- Weather Uredlcticns. 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® there unj NO. 12.