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.Ciavnnnnh Sri b line. published by the Tbibuxe Publistune Ou ) J. H. DEVEADX, Mamaqbb. ’ t R. W. WHITE, Souoitob. ( VOL. IL yEWLY FITTED UP. LABORINIm’S home Restaurant & Lodging, Wm. B. Brown, Proprietor, 183 Bryan St., SAVANNAH, GA, Meals at all hours. Choicest brands of wines, liquors and cigars always on hand. 1 3 ES''XIY’J'T ’ HUMAN BAIR EMPORIUM. Ladies' and Gents’ wigs made to order. Also Fronts, Toupees, Waves, Curls, Frizzes a»d Hair Jewelry. We root and ©ake up ladies’ own combings in any desirable style. We have character Wigs end Beards of all kinds to rent for Mas querades and entertainments. Ladies and children Hair cutting and shampooning. Also, hair dressing at your residence if required. We cut'and trim bangs in all of the latest styles. Cash paid for cut hair and combings of all kinds. All goods willingly exchanged if not satisfactory. Kid Gloves Cleaned. R. M. BENNETT, No. 56 Whitaker St. Savannah, Ga. FRANKLIN F. JONES, AT STALL HO. 31, IN THE MARKET, Announces to his friends and the public that he keeps on hand a fresh supply of the best Beef, Veal and Mutton, also all kinds of game when in season, and will be glad to wait on his customers as usual with politeness and promptness. His prices are reasonable and satisfaction is guaranteed. Goods delivered if desired. DON’T FORGET, STALL NO. 31. QREEN GROCERY. —o — HENRY FIELDS THH OLD RELIABLE (HIEEN(rK<)CEK WOULD inform his friends and the public that he still holds the fort t his old stand corner South Broad and East Boundry streets, where he keeps on hand constantly, a full supply of fresh Beef, Veal, Mutton, Pork, Fish, Poultry, Bggs, Game and all kipds of Vegetables. Prices reasonable —to suit the times. Soods delivered if desired. HERE’S AN ABLE STORY. It’s About Rattlesnakes, Giant Pow der, and a Cliff of Solid Gold. [From the Denver Tribune.] A hunter who has hunted and mined from Arizona to the Yellowstone, and who is highly esteemed for truth and ve racity, was telling me that he had the other day made a most wonderful dis covery, and that he had seen gold that ■would put the Treasury of the United States at a discount. The discovery was made in the mountains not more than ten miles from the Government bridge over Yampa river, in Routt county, Col orado. He said that when he was on top of one of the mountains seen from the bridge that lie saw at the bottom of a cliff that he was peering over that the ground was smooth and clean, as if deer or bear had been in the habit of resting and sunning themselves through the heat of the early spring days. Being anxious to get a deer or have a fight with a bear, he descended by a cir cuitous route to the foot of the cliff. Peering cautiously around for game, he was somewhat startled at hearing the rattle of a snake. Looking about, he saw large numbers of them lying around, while there was a constant stream of them going into a round hole in the rock near the bottom of the cliff. Being anxious to destroy as many of the reptiles as he possibly could, he pro cured a forked stick and placing the fork over the neck of one of the largest, he pinioned him to the ground; then tying a half dozen sticks of giant powder to his tail, set a slow match to it and then let the snake go. After seeing his snake ship go into the hole, the hunter re treated to a safe distance to await devel opments. He did not have long to wait. First there was a slight trembling of the ground, then a burst that shook the mountain like an earth'make, and with that burst the whole side of the cliff top pled ofi* and fell to the ground, and nn Went more snakes than was ever thought of by either Gulliver or Baron Mun chausen. The face of the rock was honeycomb d with round holes, out of which snakes were pouring like water through a knot hole as long as the hunter staved, and he stayed long enough to see many thou sands seething and hissing in their rago “nd agony, when he became weary of the sight and left, but not until he had *» en that the whole face of the cliff was covered with solid gold. Philosophy. J Life to the few is asurfeitof pleasure, Gay as the butterfly sipping its sweet, Tripping through gardens a minuet measure, Happy of spirit, with fairy-shod feet. Life to the many's a desert of sorrow, Heavy of heart and with plentiful tears; Grieving to-day with no hopes for the mor r 'W, Slowly they wear out the beautiful year. Life as it is has sufficient of either— Sadness and gladness to answer our need. Laughter and weeping, made wholly of neither; Harvest is always the growth of the seed, They who go bravely, with courage believing All is not evil, will garner the good; They ate deceived who forecast deceiving, Benefits given are not understood. —[Annie Robertson Noxon. The Clergyman’s Ghost. Rev. Doyce Starkeye had been a : month in his new quarters, the parson i age of the church to which he had late ly been called. The quarters were new to him, but half a dozen of his predeces sors had occupied the house, which was I pretty in itself, and prettily situated I amid shrubbery and trees. The place was a smart town in northern Michigan. . The pastor and his wife were entertain ing for a day three of Mr. Starkeye’s classmates at college. These gentlemen came up from Ohio for duck shooting on the Lake Huron shore, and had stopped for a visit to their old school-fellow in his new location. After dinner visitors and hosts were ! sitting in the cozy parlor while the j shades of night deepened. The talk was lively, and all were in the best of spirits, when one of the visitors sudden ly exclaimed: “What’s that?” Os course everybody looked at every | body else, and the visitors saw in Mrs. I Starkeye’s face an expression of annoy- I ance almost amounting to distress. It was John Trennam who made the ; exclamation. His comrades, Jack Duceman and Henry Ketlow, demanded 1 in one breath: “What is it, John?” “What’s the matter, old fellow?’’ Trennam exclaimed: “Why, that voice. Didn’t you hear it, Starkeye? A muffled sound like the There it is again ! Do you hear that?” Every one had heard it this time. A muffled voice, truly; but the words were plainly heard: “Oh-h-h-h-hl—Don’t?’ A long dwell upon the first word, in a sort of crescendo wail; then an instant’s i pause, and the second word came, short j and sharp, but in a louder tone: “Oh-h-h-h-h! —Don’t!” A woman’s voice, evidently. So it seemed to all the listeners. Mr . Starkeye was the first to speak. I “It has come, Doyce,’’ she said to her husband, and the manner, not less than her words, told that the wailing voice was not news to them, but was dreaded by her, at least. “Starkeye,” cried Duceman, spring ing to his feet, “with your permission we’ll lay this ghost for you. I sec how it must bother you. Do you give us leave? Ah! that’s right. Cuine, boys, let’s get to the bottom of it. A parson can’t go ghost-hunting, but we can.” It was arranged that Trenmau should keep watch at the west window of the j parlor. Duceman was to stealthily sta tion himself at the west end of the front porch, and Ketlow went to the second floor room above the parlor. A little cool headed watching, they' thought, would discover something in no very long t.me. They were to remain at their posts for an hour, if nothing was found i out meanwhile, and then reassemble in the parlors to consider further steps. The nig t was not dark, but it was difficult to see much around the leafage surrounding the parsonage. A soughing, westerly wind came fitfully through the trees. The friends took their stations and half an hour went by, while at in i tervals the wailing voice was heard. Beyond all question it was somewhere about the west end of the house. But where? Now it sounded to Duceman on ! the porch as if it were just above his head, but the next time it was heard it * seemed to come from the top of a silver SAVANNAH, GA., SATURDAY, JUNE 4.1887. leafed poplar that stood close to the west end of the house. Duceman peered around toward the poplar, and in his eagerness stepped off the porch among the shrubbery. “Oh-h-h-h-hl Don’t!” Almost directly above his head, Duce man thought. He was sure it was in the poplar tree. He crept slowly until he stood under the poplar, and then looking intently through the branches saw a dark form outlined against the sky—a form upon the peak of the roof and not in the tree. Duceman was both elated and indignant at his discovery. “I hate practical jokes and jokers— especially such stupid ones as this,” and he muttered as he stole quickly and quietly back to the porch into the house. “I’ll give that fellow a lesson he won’t forget,” said Duceman to himself as he secured his ducking gun, and then paid a hasty visit to Mrs. Starkeye’s kitchen. In a minute more Duceman, gun in hand, was stealing softly around the west end of the house again. Tiiere sat the fellow on the roof, dimly seen against the sky. Duceman raised his gun and fired. With a loud shriek the figure on the roof plunged forward into the pop lar tree. But the branches were small and brittle, and the figure crashed through them and alighted in the centre ot a great arbor-vitas. Out of this again it rolled sputtering, groaning and twist - ing in many contortions. Duceman dropped his gun and sprang forward as the inmates of the house came hurriedly out. “Great heaven, Ketlow, is it you?’ ex claimed Duceman, as he reached the writhing figure on the ground. “O-00-oo! Ow-ow! yes! You’ve killed me! What did you shoot for? Oh-h-h! my hip! my hip!” answered the writhing Ketlow. But Duceman was getting his breath again. “Oh, it’s only a little charge of salt that you’ve got,” he said. “There was no shot in it. It’s only salt. But what ■were you doing on the roof? Was it you making that noise? This did not stop Ketlow’s smarting, but the assurance that he had been hurt only with salt relieved ths others of ap prehension. By degrees Ketlow ex plained. He had gone to the second room as appointed. There the wailing voice was so distinctly heard that he ex pected to put his hand upon the offender by reaching out of the window. But when he carefully raised the sash the wails seemed to come from the roof above his head. Casting about then he found another window opening onto the kitchen roof and from this the main roof was easily reached. Ketlow resolved to capture the wailing fellow while the others were vainly watching. Without difficulty he got the peak by the poplar tree. “Yes, yes; but where was the wailing voice all the time you were sitting on the peak there? heard it right there just as Idi covered you,” said Duceman im patiently. “Why, I was cutting it off with my jack-knife when you fired your old cannon at me,’’ replied Ketlow with re turning indignation at a new twinge in his hip. “Cutting what off?” they demanded aghast. “The voice,” said Ketlow. It was the limb of that poplar tree rubbing across the edge of a shingle when the wind blew. I cut it off to show you bow smooth it was worn anainst the o shingle. —Atlanta Constitution. Meals on Shipboard. Each sailor furnishes his own tin plate, coffee-cup and knife an I fork. He has no table, with chairs placed for his convenience. When grub is icady to be served the cook gives th'. ignal. A sailor comes and receives a pan of bread; another takes a pan of beef, the third takes the large coffee-pot, with hash or potatoes, as the cook chooses. The bill of fare is fixed by law. At the beginning of the voyage the captain calls his crew aft and inquires if there are any who wish to have their food weighed. They always prefer to eat as much as they cm “stow away.” The cook frequently goes into the cabin and asks for a piece of silver, which he puts into the frying pan with the sputtering fish. If the silver turns black ho considers the fish to have been poisoned. He says they sometimes eat the copper from the bottom of a ship or from copper banks. The silver is usually found to be bright and shining, and the luxury of a fresh fish dinner is enjoyed with unadulterated happiness. The sailors eat in the forecastle. If they arc disposed they can rig them selves a table, otherwise they must sit around on tilinks or the deck in rough weather and take their rations. The officers eat with the captain in the cabin, where a table is set and furnished the same as at home. A rack is used in rough weather Io keep the dishes from dancing. If there is a good cook on board everything goes well, but an unskilled cook makes all hands mis erable. Often a porpoise is harpooned and then there is great excitement. The liver and heart taste similar to those of a hog, but one must be exceedingly hungry to enjoy the meat. It has one virtue—that of being fresh. The oil is usually saved, being quite valuable. That found in the head is much es teemed for oiling clocks. During rough weather the passengers do not attempt to sit at the table, but take whatever they require in their hands and eat the best way they can. A Sand-Storm in Oregon. The numerous tracts of sand extend ing along the Columbia River from Dal las, in eastern Oregon, to Wallula, in Washington 'Territory, are a source of no little amount of trouble to the mil road passing through that section. These sand-beds, lying us they do near the river, unprotected from the prevailing up-stream winds, are constantly chang ing—shifting from place to place, cover ing and uncovering the stunted growth of sage-biush, and filling every nook and crevice to be found in the scattered groups of rocks and bowlders. On each side of the railroad in places where these beds are more exposed to the elements, are wooden sand shifts resembling mini ature fences, placed some ten or twelve feet apart, at an angle of about 45 de grees with the track, and as the flying sand is whirled along the line of the railroad they form a good protection by throwing it to either side. The severest storm known to this section of the country occurred toward the close otlast winter; the wind blow ing a regular hurricane from the south, the sand-shifts, being in a wrong posi tion to meet such a gale from that point of the compass, were in many places completely covered up. The sand block aded the track in some instances to a depth of three or four feet, and had to be shovelled off, allowing delayed trains to push ahead foot by foot only to close in to the rear as soon : s the train had gained headway. As the counterpait of a natural phe nomenon u ually associated with the African desert, such a storm has a new and curious interest. When it becomes more familiar we shall need a name for the sand-laden wind of Oregon. In Africa it is known as the simoom; in southern Italy, the sirocco; in Turkey, the satniel; and in Egypt, kamsin.— [Harper’s Weekly. A Good Whitewash. J. P. asks: “Will you please give receipt in your next issue to make a whitewash that will stand the weather, and also what to color with to make a deep slate color?” Answer: Slake one - half bushel l:me, str.tin, and aid a peck of v,, lt d.»j-olvei in warm water, three pound- ground rice put in boiling wat>.r and b i’ed to a thin paste, one half pound powdered Spanish whiting, and a pound of clear glue dissolved in warm water. M x these well together, and let the mixture stan 1 for several days Keep tie- wash thus prepared in a kettle or portable furnace, and when used, put it on as hot as possible, with painters’ or whitewash brushes. Color to suit by adding sparingly of a dry pig ment.—[Scientific A in .ricuu. ( f 1.25 Per Annum; 75 cents for Rtx Months; J 50 cents Three Months; Single Copies I 5 cents —In Advance. Ono War Tragedy. On April 22, 1863, in Charleston, fll 0., at the residence of Governor Pick i ns, says the Atlanta Constitution, ® party was assembled to witness the mar riage of Annie Pickens to Lieutenant Mußicholle. It was a time when terror and angnish.« was prevailing through the entire South, ■nd the booming of the Union guns then roared in the harbors, but the little number who had collected together had determined to smile even though their hearts were aching and they w. ro treni— bling with terror. Beneath the soft light of the chandelier the clergymans stood with the habiliments of the church enshrouding his venerable form. Be fore him was the noble young lieutenant, in his official uniform, while beside him leant the beautiful and stately wonwust who was to become his wife. There sb® stood regal and proud, possessing every thing that prestige of birth, rank and; Wealth could give. “Are you ready I** asked the minister unclasping his book, “Yes,” said Ln Rochelle, taking the hand of his bride. Scarcely wus th® answer uttered than there was aa awful crash. A shell from the enemy** guns had penetrated the mansion, burst ing into the midst of the marriage scenes and scattering its deadly missies aroundj men trembled and women screamed, mirrors were shivered and for a moment the walls seemed to rock to and fro. In a few moments quiet reigned, and U we® ascertained that the only fatal wound received was in the left temple of th* waiting bride, who lay like a beautiful crushed flower in the arms of her agon ized lover. Laying her on a lounge l»® bent over her, and in a moan of despair, prayed that even in death she would be come his wife. Her quick-drawn breath melted in a sigh as the lips smiled assent. There she lay, pure and white as th® ; cluster of cainelias at her breast, whihr the crimson life-tide oozed in heavy drops from the death woftnd io her brow and cour-ed its stream over the lovely cheek, marring the snowy cloud* of her bridal veil that enveloped her. The ceremony was of few words, and the “yes” was murmured in a dying; whisper beneath the liu -band's kiss. In a moment all was over, a little struggle and she was dead. Beneath the cool deep shadows of the magnolia Annie Pickens Ln Rochelle was laid to rest, where the sad wail cl the waters sighed an eternal while the brave young soldier went his way, in the fire and danger of battle, 1® serve his country and his God. He lit tle feared the sword or the bullet of war, for ever at his heart there was » wound more cruel than death and last ing as life. —■ . Performing Birds and Cats. The men with the performing birds have appeared on the street corners, sayi the New York Times. The training vl the little songsters, who perform *1 command all sorts of gymnastic fewH and cunning tricks, working the flying trapeze, hauling up from an imaginarj well and drinking out of a tiny bucket, or pretending to die and lying motionless until the police are called, is really re markable, and is the result of laborious and patient instruction that might Lc more profitably employed. An exhibit®® has appeared on the east side with tw® trained cats. If all who witnessed th® l exhibition paid a nickel to see the show® the exhibit or might reap a good harvest® 1 but the small boys don’t pay. j Where Lizhtuing strikes* ? From statistics collected in parts tjjpj the German empire, G. Hellmann find® t! a. the danger from lightning, thou ® genera ly increasing, is diminishing iS® certain districts, the r.sk becoming tea® the more closely houses are clustered® The character of the soil has great fluerx >•. Letting 1 represent t! e dan-’ii® from lightning on calcareous ground, .1® will five it upon marly, 9 upon sa*«M and 22 upon clayey soil. It is u curium® fact, not yet explained, that oaks«® stria- mm 1 more frequently than t the Ml tiees; sot;.at if the danger fur beeriM® be 1, that fur pines is 15, and fur oak® 54. ® NO. 33.