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She Stwminali tribune.
Published b J the Tromni Publishfxg Co 1
J. EL DEVEAUX, Mxnagbb. ’ I
R- W. WHILE, Solicitor. |
VOL. 11.
NEWLY FITTED UP.
LABORINGIi’S HOME
Restaurant & Lodging,
Wm. B. Brown, Proprietor,
182 Bryan St., SAVANNAH, GA,
Meals at all hours. Choicest brands of
rines, Ihjuors find cigars always on hand.
be'nneTt’F
HUMAN HAIR EMPORIUM.
Ladies* and Gents’ wigs made to order.
Also Fronts, Toupees, Waves,
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 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 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 as usual
with politeness and promptness. His
prices are reasonable and satisfaction is
guaranteed. Goods delivered if desired.
DON'T FORGET, STALL NO. 31.
GREEN GROCERY.
—o —
HENRY FIELDS
THE OLD RELIABLE
GREENGROCER
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 suit the times.
Goods delivered if desired.
FOB GOOD
JOB PRINTING
—4lO TO TK*—
SAVANNAH
TRIBUNE,
Envelopes,
Business Cards,
Statements,
Posters,
And in fact everything
in the Job Printing line
neatly and cheaply ex
ecuted at short notice.
SATISFACTION GUARANTEED
Clve us a calL
SAVANNAH, GA.. SATURDAY, AUGUST 27.1887
Frailty’s Shield.
Look what arms the fenceless wield,-
Frailest things have frailty’s shieldl
Cockle-boat outrides the gale
That has shred the frigate’s sail
Curlew skims the breaker’s era
Swings the oridle in its nest;
Flower a single summer bred
Lightly lifts its jaunty head
AV hen is past the storm whose stl
Laid the pride of centured oak;
Where with fire the soil was bathed
The white trefoil springs unscathed.
Frailest things have frailty’s shield:
Here a fly in amber sealed;
There a bauble tossed aside
Under ancient lava-tide,
Meets the musing delver’s gaze.
Time the king's memorial lays,
Touching it with sportive stall’,
But spares Erotion’s epitaph.
Frailest things have frailty’s shield,
Guarded by a charm concealed;
So the gaunt and ravening wild
Softens towards the weanling child,
And along the giddy steep
Safe one glideth, blind with sleep.
Art thou mighty?—Challenged Fata
Chooseth thee for wrestling mate!
Art thou feeble?—Fate disarmed,
Turning, leaveth thee unharmed.
Thou that bendest shalt not break;
Smiling in the tempest’s wake,
Thou shalt rise, and see around
How the strong ones strew the ground;
Saving lightness thou didst wield, —
Frailest things have frailty’s shield!
DAVE’S SACRIFICE.
“Ye’ll get it, Dave. Ye kin make
sure of thet. Thar ain’t nobody round
I hyar kin beat ye ridin’.”
“Dave knows that ’thout ye tollin’
him, Mandy. He ain’t no fool, ’n’ that
twenty-five dollars is cornin’ ter him,
sure. I seed him givin’ Judy an extra
rub-down this mownin’, 'fore sun-up.
What ye goin’ ter do with the money,
Dave?”
“Wait till I get it,” answered a tall,
athletic young fellow of about twenty
years of age, who stood in the doorway
of the little mountain cabin. “I ain’t
makin’ no plans.”
“Ye jest say that, Dave, not likin' to
set yerself up none,” said his sister, rak
ing out the fire on the broad hearth, and
setting a big black kettle of water in the
middle of the ashes. “But I’m countin’
on that new dress, ’n’ I’ll look fo’ it
when yo’ uns comes up the mounting
this evenin’.”
Dave laughed and walked across the
little yard to the rough shed where Judy
was stamping and pawing impatiently.
She whinnied as her sharp ears caught
the sound of her master’s tread, and when
he opened the shed door and held out
his hand she came to him at once and
put her head on his shoulder, showing as
well as she was able how deep was her
affection for him.
Dave patted her gently, his arm
around her neck. lie had raised her
from a colt, and alwrnys talked to her as
if she were capable of understanding
everything he said to her.
“We uns will show ’em some pretty
ridin’ ter day, I reckon, Judy,” he half
whispered, “I ain't afeared none ’bout
gettin' thet twenty-five dollars.”
He put a saddle and bridle on the
mare and led her out. Her whinny of
delight on leavingthe close shed, brought
‘Mandy and her husband to the cabin
door.
“Ye goin’ now, Dave?” asked his
brother-in-law.
“Yes; I reckon I better be off. I’ll
take it slow goin’ down the mounting. ”
“Weil, I’ll be ’long ’fore the toona
ment sets in. I reckon there’ll be right
smart o’ a crowd ter Erwin.”
Dave assented with a nod, and rode
awav, curbing with a steady hand Judy's
desire to break into a wild gallop. He
wanted to save her strength for the con
test into which he was to enter that
afternoon, and he felt as sure of the prize
as if it were already within his grasp.
The tournament was the bright idea of
a young man from one of the Northern
cities who was spen ling several months
in the North Carolina mountains for the
i benefit of his health, and who hail wan
i dered by accident to Erwin, a little ham
let at the foot of the mountain range,
| miles from a railroad, where the great
i event of each wick wa» the mail on Sat
-1 urday.
The houses arc decrepit frame build
ings and rough log cabins, standing
around a weedy square shaded by great
oaks, beneath which the dozen or more
eows of the place gathered oh warm days
to chew the cud and wait for milking
rime, while lean, lank, black hogs roamed
at will through the stony, hilly street
running around the square. There were
no pavements, nor even a board walk,
and on the low, sagging porch of the
principal store, the men of the village
regularly assembled every day, to smoke,
to tell long stories of bear and wolf
hunts, and discuss the news in the weekly
papers. They seemed to young Howard
Hilton —who was all spirit; and energy—
utterly without enterprise or ambition,
and he resolved to wake them up a little.
To this end he proposed a tournament,
offering a prize of dollars to
the successful competitor; and was
pleased with the excitement which at
once took possession of the whole vil
lage.
On every side he heard the name of
young Dave Fielder, and it seemed to be
conceded that he would be the one to
carry off the prize. The only horse that
could compare with Judy in speed, and
be relied upon not to swerve in a straight
course, was a big black animal belong
ing to Sam Breen, an old man who had
been a famous hunter in bis day, but had
recently been lamed by a severe fall.
Riding was out of the question for him,
and he had never allowed anyone else to
mount Black Eagle. But there were
six besides Dave who had entered their
names as competitors, and among them
was Rob Hartley, who lived with his
old mother way up on the mountain side,
and whose only steed was a decrepit
white mule, which could be goaded into
a pace faster than a walk only at the
cost of unceasing labor with a stout
cudgel.
Dave, walking Judy slowly down the
mountain path, laughed as he thought of
the ridiculous figure Rob would cut on
old Obed, and wondered what the boy
could be thinking of, and if he under
stood what a tournament was.
But his laugh died abruptly away as a
sudden turn in the path brought him al
most upon a little clearing in the vast
stretch of dark, uninhabited forest, in
the middle of which stood a little log
cabin of two rooms, divided by a wide
entry.
It was Rob’s home, and his mother—a
forlorn figure in her coarse, homespun
dress, slat sun-bonnet, and cowhide
shoes leaned over the rail fence, a bucket
in her hand.
It seemed to Dave that a shadow fell
across her face as she saw him, and her
voice quivered as she asked if he were
going to the tournament.
“Rob beared yisterday as how ye’d
give it up,” she said.
“I ain’t hed no thought o’ scch a
thing,” answered Dave. “I want ter
know how it feels to have twenty-five
dollars in my pocket.” The woman
drew a long, deep breath.
“It’s all up with Rob, then,” she said,
in a low, despairing tone. “When he
beared you’d pulled out he got the
promise o’Sam Breen’s horse, ’n’ he made
sure o’ the prize. Mercy knows we need
it bad enough. But Rob, he ain’t the
rider you be. He won’t stand no chance
now.”
She turned abruptly and went into the
cabin, closing the door of the kitchen
behind her. And Dave, no longer in a I
cheery mood, rode on again, a per- I
plexed look on his honest, sunburned
i face.
“I ain’t called on ter give it up -it’s
too much to ask. Wo uns need the
money, too,” he muttered.
Then he remembered that when he
run a rake prong into his foot, Rob’s
mother had toiled up to Mandy’s cabin
every day to dress the wound, and had
torn up the only piece of fine muslin she
possessed to make bandages, -And years
ago when he had been left motherless,
with no one to care for him save a sister,
onlv a few years older than himself, Mrs.
Hartley had given him food and shelter
for months at a time.
“I ain’t ever done nothin’ ter square
accounts with her; that’s a fact" he mut
tered, as he recalled these tilings. “I
reckon I’d be a mean hound to run agin
Rob now. I-I won’t do it,” and the
heavy sigh which accompanied the
words showed what it cost to utter
them.
There was a great crowd at the scene of
the tournament, and the excitement was
intense. Dave stood a little apart, but
in good view of the track, his arm about
Judy’s neck. lie had 'briefly announced
that he did not intend to ride, and had
refused any explanation, even to How
ard Hilton, who was much disappointed
at his decision.
As the horses dashed up (he track
amid cheers and cries from the crowd,
Judy pawed (he ground impatiently and
turned her large, soft eyes again and
again upon her master’s face, as if seek
ing to read there why she, too, was not
allowed to show her pact’s.
But Dave stood in silence by her, his
eyes ever upon the lank, awkward figure
of Rob Hartley, seated on Black Eagle.
Not far away leaning against a tree, he
saw the boy's mother with a faded red
shawl about her thin shoulders.
The contest was a spirited one; every
competitor did Ins best, the face of
Dave’s withdrawn! having allowed hope
to creep into the hearts of even the poor
est riders; but Bob Hartley came off vic
tor, and Dave, with a strange pang, saw
the prize awarded to him.
“I can’t make out why ye changed yer
min’, "bout ridin’, Dave,” said his broth
er-in-law, as they rode home together at
sun-down.
“I got out o’ the notion o’ it,” ans
wered Dave laconically.
And no one except the Heavenly
Father, to whom the secrets of all hearts
are open, ever knew how great was the
sacrifice he had made that day. —[New
York Examiner.
Robbing a Gohl Mine.
At Nevada City, 1800 pounds of orc
were sold a short time ago for SBOOO. It
was identified as the product of the
Eberhard mine, near White Pines, and
there was a great deal of curiosity to
learn how it had been carried out of the
mine. The story was obtained in some
way, and this is it: A Cornish miner
employed in the Eberhard had his din
ner-bucket made with a false bottom,
into which he put a specimen every day,
carrying it away safely to a cabin which
he shared with another Cornishrnan,
who worked on the night shift.
As his partner was absent when
he was present, he had no trouble in se
creting the ore, placing it each night
under the floor of the cabin and keeping
its presence and w hereabouts a secret.
One morning he informed his partner
that he was going to quit the Eberhard
and leave the country. The partner must
have been suspicious, for he only waited
for the ore thief to get out of sight,
when he tore up the cabin floor, ami,
borrowing a horse and wagon, loaded up
the 1800 pounds of stuff, and driving to
Nevada' City sold it. He then disap
peared, and the original thief never got
a cent for his share of the plunder,—•
[St. Louis Globe-Democrat.
Imperial Tips.
The most magnificent visitor ever
known in the annals of the English court
was the Emperor Nicholas, who, when
he was here in 1844, left £2,000 to be
distributed among the servants at Wind
sor castle, while the housekeeper there
j was given a parure of diamonds, worth
I £I,OOO. The six lords who were in wait
ing during his visit tach received a
i splendid gold snuff-box, with the em
peror’s portrait set in diamonds; each
l equerry and the groom-in-waiting got a
similar snuff-box with his imperial
i majesty’s cipher in diamonds; a bushel
of rings, watches and brooches were dis
tributed among minor functionaries,
i £2,800 was given in charity, and
for the cup at Ascot, which wir cOHth/
| tied annually for ten vears,—[Loudon
; World.
Getting Even.
Citizen—l'm thinking <pf buying my
j daughter a piano.
Next-door neighbor fin consternation)
—ls that so? Well, then, by George,
J’ll buy my son a flute.—-[New y<»rk
I Sun.
1t1.26 Per Annnm; 75 rents for Bix Month*;
< 60 cents Three Months; Single Copies
( 6 o?tits- -In Advance.
THE FAMILY PHYSICIAN.
Advice For liot Day*»
It would be far better for .all in good |
| health, whether they live active or 1
’ sedentary lives in the hot season, to I
J largely forego the use of meat, eating it I
at least no oftener than once a day, and 1
very many can safely exclude it entirely j
from their diet during the summer 1
months. Eggs and fish are afr.ong the ’
most admirable substitutes; vegetables 1
and fruits in season are really essential
to man, and if he subsists largely upon
them he will.not only suffer much less
from the heat, but will enjoy far better
health during warm weather. Alcohol
ic stimulants are even more hurtful in
that period than in lh«j cool months.
Beer drinkers will do well to substitute
claret or inedoc for their favorite tip
ple, or what is still better, to live for
the next three months, as least; strictly
{ temperate lives. —( Boston Herald.
lYlenNlcw.
A child with measles should be put to ,
bed in a well-ventilated room with a
temperature of about 70 deg. Fahr.
While warmth is essential, it is a mistake
to wrap up patients in numberless
blankets, and thus induce debilitating
perspiration. A very mild case will re
quire no medicine at all, except, perhaps
a slight sedative if the cough is trouble
some. All medical treatment that may
be necessary had better be left to the
doctor; if this were done complications
would be less frequent. A simple milk
diet is the best, with toast and some
farinaceous food if desired. The patient
should be kept in the sick room for a
week after the cessation of fever, and not
allowed to go out of doors for fully three
> weeks or a month. In this way the com
plications due to cold may be avoided.
Finally, a child after recovery from
measles should be guarded to see that its
constitution has not suffered. Tonic
treatment or change of air may stop such
a change at the start.—[Health and
Home.
Fit* oi'Kneezing.
i >.
The nasal cavities are everywhere lined
with mucous membrane, in which termin
ate various nerves. To increase the sur- * .
face of sensitive membrane, the walls of
the cavities are not regular, but twu this
bones, covered with membrane and
nerves, swell out from the side, almost
filling the cavities. These are called the
“turbinated bones,’’from their top-like
I shape. The nerves of smell are mainly in
the upper part of the nasal cavities, where
they directly connect with the “olfactory
tract” of the brain.
The nerves over the lower turbinated L,
bone are wholly devoid of the sense of
smell, but when unduly sensitive, give A
rise to various troublesome ailments—
hay fever, fits of sneezing, asthma. When
thus sensitive and producing these effects, , j
the membrane Is found to be thickened , t :
from chronic congestion of the part. The ‘
blood-supply to the nerves is excessive*''
In some persons the sneezing is violent,
frequent, and continuous for many
months. Sometimes the fits of sneezing
give place to attacks of asthma.
Hack, of Germany, is a strong advocate ■
for the use of the galvano-cautery in all ;
! such, and many allied, cases.
Dr. De Haviland Hall of England, ,
. while thinking that too much is claimed *:
for this remedy, says “That there are,,
certain neurotic affections, the starting
point of which is the nasal mucous mem- '
brane, cannot, I think, lie denied, and
in these eases cure can be most readily
effected by treatment directed to this ■
part. Hack, by pointing out that the
most ready method of influencing the.
nutrition of the mucous membrane of
the nose is by the employment of the
galvano-cautery, has enabled us to treat
successfully and promptly piany casts
formerly difficult to manage.’’ He als<>
gives an account of signal cases thus a
cured by hintself. The previous applica
tion of cocaine to the membrane renders <
the operation wholly paiule-s. Dr. Hall •• j
says. however, that many f «<•< can bo ’ ,-3
eff> etuaily cured by more -«yipl« meas
ur» ■, and he would always ‘have these '-4
tried first.-- [Yo>Hh’'s U.impmion.
NO. 15.