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®he 5 uti a n noli QAibunc. published by the Tkikomb Publishing Oo i J. H. DEVBADX, Mamaoxx I R. W. WHITE, Souoitob. | VOL. 11. JJEWLY FITTED TTP. LABORING~MEN’S home Restaurant & Lodging, Wm. B. Browm, Proprietor, • 182 Bryan St., SAVANNAH, GA, Meals at all hours. Choicest brands of irines, liquors and cigars always on hand. JN HUMAN HAIR EMPORIUM. Ladies’ and Gents’ wigs made to order. Also Fronts, Toupees, Waves, Curls, Frizzes and Hair Jewelry. We root and make up ladies’ own combings in any desirable style. We have character Wigs and Beards of all kinds to rent for Mas querades and entertainments. Ladies and children Hair cutting and shampo.oning. Also, hair dressing at your residence if •equired. 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. FRANK LIN F. JONES AT STALL NO. 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 a? usual with politeness and promptness. His prices are reasonable and satisfaction is guaranteed. Goods delivered if desired. OON*T FORGET. STALfr NO. 31. CREEN GROCERY. HENEYFIELDS TH® OLD RELIABLE GREEN GROCER 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 fresn Beef, Veal, Mutton, Pork, Fish, Poultry, Eggs, Game and all kinds of Vegetables. Prices reasonable —to «uit the times. Soods delivered if desired. FOR GOOD JOB PRINTING —GO TO TUB— SAVANNAH TRIBUNE. “amphlets, Circulars, Bill Heads, Letter Heads, And in fact everything in the Job Printing line neatly and cheaply ex ' Muted at short notice UIISFACTION » C!ve us a calk The Light of Love. ■air is the flush cf the summer dawn, When the gate of pearl uncloses, As it glimmers along the dewy lawn And shimmers amid the roses; As it wakes the little drops of dew To quiverings of delight, And threads the aisles of the forests through On the trail of the flying night. Soft is the gleam of the summer stars When the feverish day is over. When the fays are afloat in silvery cars, And the dusky moth is a rover. When over the couch of the dreaming flowers The mists of the fountain creep, And the languid ears of the drowsy hour Are wooed by song of the deep. But the dazzling hues of the morning fall. And dull are its golden lances, And all the light of the stars grow pale In my darling’s tender giances; For the stars may burn with a thousand dyes, And a myriad sunbeams fall, But the light of love in a Woman’s eyes Is the purest light of all. —New York World. AFTER FIVE YEARS. “I suppose I was crazy, or I shouldn’t have thought of the thing 1” mused young Doctor Dorr. Well, few of us but have our fits of harmless lunacy at times. Let it pass. That little three year-old lad who cried last night at the hospital for the moon had to keep on crying. The moon wasn’t to be had. Why am I to get my own way any more than he had his?’’ Doctor Dorr had fought his way so far through life, and in the course of his hand-to-hand contest with destiny he had learned to be a philosopher. “But I loved her!” was his inward cry. “There’s no getting aside of that. I loved her!” And at the same time, little Lois Ver ney, dusting the picture frames at home and polishing oil the quaint mahogony table, was murmuring to herself the same sweet form of words which will prevail as long as there are love and youth and beauty in the world. “I love him—Hove him!” While old Major Verney; glaring through his eye-glasses at the little pink envelope on the library table, found a husky voice to say: “What’s this, Mary Ann, eh? My niece writing letters?” Mary Ann jumped. She stood in mortal fear of the grim major, who was said to have killed three men in the Crimean war, and carried a bullet some where in the neighborhood of bis left lung still. “Please, sir, it’s a letter Miss Lois gave me to post,” faltered she, “but I ain’t cleaned myself up yet, and ” “Yes, yes,” said the major. “You are a good girl, Mary Ann. Here is a sixpence for you. I will attend to the letter.” And Mary Ann responded: “Yes, please, sir!” Lois dressed herself that night in her best pin-checked silk gown, with a pink ribbon in her hair, that flung an answer ing signal to the color in her cheeks,and sat by the window all the evening. But no one came. She made a transparent little errand to walk past the hospital next day. By a strange coincidence it was the .day of Dr. Dorr’s attendance there—yes, the very hour. He came out, and Lois’s silly little heart began to beat, but he only lifted his hat with icicle-like courtesy and passed on. Lois stood a minute looking after him, as if she were dazed, and then and there the candle of hope went out in her poor little heart. “If this 13 love,” said Lois to herself, “it’s a very disappointing thing, and— and I want no more to do with it. Oh, dear—oh, dear, I wish I were dead.” Doctor Dorr went on with his work in ;<fe. His sister, a hard-featured maiden h ly, kept house for him, and there n- ver lacked a button on his shirt, nor ti : proper seasoning to his soup. Lois Verney, too, worked on; but sh“, poor child, was at & disadvantage; for the old in jer was dead, and Lois hah a hard time to keep the proverbial wolf from the door. SAVANNAH. GA.. SATURDAY, JULY 23.1887. “Please, Miss,” said Mary Ann, one breezy April morning, “I’ve brought back them painted shells and plackets, and things ’’ “Plaques, Mary Ann plaques,” mildly corrected Lois. “And the bookseller, miss, please, he says there ain’t no sale for no such, and, please, he wants the window room for something else.” “Very well, Mary Ann,” said Lois, with a sigh as deep as Avernus. “And please, miss, the oilman says he has orders not to fill the can until the bill is paid.” “Then we must burn candles, Mary Ann,” said Lois, “for we have no money to pay bills.” “But the grocer, miss, please, he says he’d rather we’d patronize some other shop till we’ve paid something on ac count.” “Very well,” said Lois listlessly. She was no Midas. She not turn blank paper into money by the touch of her fingers. “And please, miss, "what shall I tell the butcher ?” persisted Mary Ann, the ruthless. “Mary Ann, do go away!” wailed Lois. “How do I know? There’s my purse. There is a shilling in it, and that’s all I’ve got in the world. And I don’t see any chance of earning anything more. There’s some one knocking at the door. Go quick, and see who it is.” Mary Ann clattered down stairs. It was Mrs. Castleton’s maid, with a book which her mistress had borrowed of Miss Verney. “And please, missus ’ud like to borry 'Peveril of the Peak,’ if Miss Verney’ll let her have it.” Major Verney had been something of a book collector in his day, and all the neighborhood were now profiting by it. As Mary Ann remarked, “It did seem as if it took one person’s time to run up and down stairs with books for them as borried and returned.” “Well, I’ll see, ” said Mary Ann. And once more she clattered up stairs. “Here’s ‘Jane Eyre,’ miss,” said she. “And Mrs. Castleton wants to borry ‘Peveril’s Peak.’” “Let her have it,” said Lois. Mary Ann advanced close to her mis tress. “Miss Lois,” said she, in a confiden tial undertone, “if it ain’t rhakin’ too bold, why don’t we keep a circulating library instead of a free lending place? I heerd the bookseller say to-day, while I was wrapping up my plackets and things in brown paper, as he made more money out of his circulating library than he did out of his regular business.” Lois brightened up. “There’s some sense in what you say, Mary Ann,” said she. “Money must be had in some way, and poor Uncle Ver ney’s books shall earn it for us. I’ll cover and number them myself, and you shall give them out and take them in.” Mary Ann was not a bad business agent, and the circulating library busi ness prospered in a small w y. And between whiles, Lois did law copying and mended the already twice darned house linen. Anything—any thing to escape the pitiless demons of thought and memory! “ ‘Clarissa Harlowe,’ eh? That’s number fourteen,” said Mary Ann to Betsey Roper, a round-cheeked serving maid, who had stepped around with her apron over her head and a brigh silver shilling tied in the corner of her pockethandkerchief, “It’s the first call we’ve had for ‘Clarissa Harlowe. ”’ “I don’t know much about ’un, ’’said Bet. sey, blushing a vivid plum color; “but my old uncle in Yorrußshire, he always toald me to be sure and read ’un when I gotten a chance. He said there were no ' such books writ these days as ’un. I can ' keep’un in the dressers drawer and read | ’un at night when the back o’ my work is broken." Betsey Roper went away chuckling, with the first volume of “Clarissa Har ' lowe” under her arm, done up iu brown | paper, and neatly pack-threaded. But in her desire to cultivate a lit i crary taste, Betsey had calculated with- out her mistress. “Clarissa” had not lain under the napkins In the dresser drawer two hours when Miss Minerva Dorr tri umphantly possessed herself of it in the course of a search after a missing jap anned tray. “Ah!’’said Miss Minerva, “novels, eh lln my kitchen! Not if I know it!” And she carried “Clarissa” up to her brother’s survey without loss of time. “Just see here, David, if you please,” ■ said she, quivering all over with right eous indignation. “And that English girl too, who came so highly recommend ed, hiding novels away in your kitchen! j What is this world coming to?” Doctor Dorr glanced up from his writing with a smile. “Why,” said he, “I suppose house- , maids like to .read as well as other peo pie.” “Like” repeated Miss Minerva, “a sil ly novel like this?” “An old English classic, Minerva,” gently corrected her brother. “Not , that it is my style of reading, but I see I no harm in it.’’ “I shall talk to Betsey when she gets ! back with the yeast,” said Miss Dorr ' rigidly, “In the meantime you will please keep the book here.” Miss Dorr descended once more into | the subterranean regions, determined to see the thing through. Doctor Dorr took up the book and slowly turned the leaves over. “Hello!” he said to himself, “here’s two leaves pasted together, with some thing between them!” He separated the sealed leaves deftly with his ivory paper-cutter. A letter lay there, directed in a deli cate woman’s handwriting, to “Doctor David Dorr.” He opened it, with a strange, giddy feeling in his head. • It was a letter that Lois Verney had written to him five years ago—the letter that said, so innocently, so frankly: “I love you. 1 will be your wife.” Major Verney had put the letter there. I It required more moral courage than he possessed to destroy it out and out; so he had compromised matters by hiding ! it between the leaves of “Clarissa Har- i lowe”—a book which nobody cared to ' read in this generation. And Major Verney had died and made no sign! Doctor Dorr rose up hurriedly. He ! could guess how it all was. His heart leaped joyfully in his breast; all the world seemed couleur de rose to him. He took the letter iu his hand and car- ; ried it straightway to the little old house in Pendragon street. Lois was at the window, watering her geraniums. She herself admitted him with a grave, inquiring face. “Lois—my little Lois!” “David!” The old words came back to their lips as if all the past five years were blotted out. He took her in his arms and she let her head fall on his shoulder. “Look love!” he said, holding up the letter. “I have never seen it until to day. I found it hidden away with the seal unbroken, between the leaves of your uncle’s old ‘Clarissa Ilario we J’ ’’ “Oh, David! Then you never knew ” “That you had accepted me? Not until this hour, Lois. Oh, my darling, my sweetheart! what must you have thought?” Her head drooped; the bright drops sparkled into her eyes. “I thought,” she whispered, “that life was very hard. But—l don’t think Iso now. I can understand it all. Uncle ; Verney never liked you. He wanted me to marry old Walker. But he is dead ' now. We’ll forget it all, David—won’t I we?” “For your sake, darling—yes!” And in the genera! tidal wave of hap l piness no one once thought of Betsey Ro- I per, crying her eyes out la-hind the big | kitchen towel in Dr. D rr’s kitchen. “I never had no chance to read ’un I before,'’ said she. “And now ’un’s , gone. An’ I doan’t know what Undo Ezra, in Vorrukshire, will say when he Lears how ’un disappeared t But Betsey was not discharged. Dr. I Door saw io that. (t 1.26 Par Annnm; 75 cento for Six Months; < 50 cents Three Months; Single Copies | 5 cent* —In Advance. Heat us n Purifier. Firo is a thorough purifier. Two hun dred and twelve degrees of heat, accord ing to Fahrenheit, is the lowest degree to which it is safe to expose infected meat, and as nil kinds of meat are al ways subject to more or less disease, or worms, invisible, it may be, to a common microscope, it is not safe to ent any kind, unless cooked by applying 212 deg. F. Heat is a complete remedy for many things. Heat is a great purifier as well as sweetener of food and drink. Germs of disease are lurking in many things. Water from sluggish streams, pools or sloughs should never be used until boiled. It is nearly always full of dis ease or injurious animalcules. By boiling, settlers in new countries, where pure, living water cannot at first be had, might be exempt from many protracted or even fatal diseases. When apples and ether vegetables are rotting, the sound parts should not be eaten raw, ns the fungus or disease with which they are decaying is frequently poison to the human system. And it is prob able that many of the malarial diseases, such as fever and ague, neuralgia, etc., could be avoided by strictly using cooked food, and water purified by heat. The microscope is revealing wonders ia the science of medicine, in anatomy, in physiology and in nearly all the natural sciences. The atomic theory is having an increasing throng of adherents. Shoplifters in City Stores. A floor-walker thoroughly posted on shoplifters is worth $2500 or S3OOO a year to any one of the larger stores. The Pinkertons of Chicago tried to establish a branch of this kind of detective work among the leading retail stores of St. Louis, but were not succcs-ftil in the attempt. The very best of the profes sional shoplifters do not visit any one store oftener than probably a doz.-n times a year. They know almost as soon as one trying to spot them that they are watched. The most successful racket they work to conceal their identity is the wearing of a heavy black mourning veil. A few years ago they generally carried a basket and were more easily caught. Customers in general soon became aware of the fact that any one carrying a basket through a store was closely shadowed, and they dropped the habit, until to-day it is a hard matter to find a woman with one, unless it is the hard-working German. A male shoplifter is very tare, and during my twelve years’ experience in St. Louis I have seen but one. The Gyp des. The gypsies arc supposed to be de scendants of the low-caste Hindoos, ex pelled by Timour about 1399. They ap peared in Germany and Italy early in tho fifteenth century and in Paris in 1427 They had become so numerous in Eng. land in the sixteenth century that an act was passed against their itineracy, and such was the prejudice against them dur ing the reign of Charles I. that thirteen persons were executed atone assiz: for# having associated with gypsies for about a month. Many communities of them still exists in Great Britain, and the names of those iu this country show them to have come of the English branch of this nomadic people. The original gypsies in America came over from Eng- . land during the Revolution, having been impressed into the army of King George for service against the colonists. Many who came over in this way re mained after the conclusion of the war, and were the pioneers of their people here. [Cultivator. Japanese Skill in Carving. Ex-Consul-General Van Buren, of Japan, brought with him to this country a piece of Japanese carv.ng which shows extraordinary -kill on the part o’ tho carver, as well as thorough knowledge of anatomy. The design is the pursnrj of an Aino, or Japanese aborigine, by a sea-monster, which is half liz.it l and half vatug r The and his fie j-trate « 3or;» fo’eslMpc - ..rO admirably brought out. The is Kam Yosbi, who to now nearly an veto* . genarian, atl'i well nigh bund. His work is famous in Juptm.— Weekly. NO. 40.