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Published br the Tbtbukb Publishtag 00. |
J. H. DEVEAUZ. Mjuuo» /
VOL. LIL
Old Saws in Rhyme.
An honest confession is good for the soul;
As thin as a rail, or as black as a coal.
A hen that is setting will never grow fat;
As wise as an owl or as blind as a bat.
As the twig first is bent so the tree is in
clined ;
As many opinions as people we find.
Bettvc wear out than rust out; the under
dog kick;
Empty wagons make most noise; Tom,
Harry and Dick.
A lick and a promise; ill news travels fast;
If you’re not rich at forty your chances are
past.
The harder the storm is the sooner its over;
Be just before generous; living in clover.
After storm comes the calm; it takes two to
fight;
Blessings all brighten when taking their
flight.
Between hay and grass; there are tricks in
each trade;
A game’s never won till the end of it’s
played.
Every man’s his own doctor; clothes bor
rowed don't fit;
Brevity always the soul is of wit.
Birth may be good, but good breeding is
more;
Afraid of his shadow; don’t stick in your
oar.
Poverty makes for us bedfellows strange;
Hanging’s too good for him; sweet is revenge.
Never swap horses while crossing a stream;
Always by contraries goeth a dream.
By rogues falling out honest men get their
dues;
By distance enchantment is lent to the view.
Jack of all trades but a master of none;
Conscience makes cowards of everyone.
There’s nothing so bad it cannot be worse;
To some people money is only a curse.
Unadorned beauty the most is adorned;
Home’s where the figart is;forearmed is fore
warned.
There’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the
lip;
The little leaks often will sink a big ship.
Blood’s thicker than water ; all cry and no
wool;
A proud heart is made by a stomach that’s
full.
Many go out to shear and come home again
shorn;
All’s not gold that glitter’s; a man’s made to
mourn.
It takes two a bargain to make; sour grapes,
Taxes and death are what no one escapes.
—[H. C. Dodge in Detroit Free Press.
THE CAPTAIN’S WIFE.
The right wing of Sherman's army
was only a few miles from Blue Rock, a
mountain village in Georgia.
The simple villagers felt little alarm.
Blue Rock was the point of no strategic
importance to either the Federals or the
Confederates.
One fine morning in the early spring
John Dickson started out from the little
hamlet to visit his farm, only a mile or
two distant. Dickson was a young man,
but a chronic lameness ha 1 secured his
exemption from military service, and as
he had a wife and two children entirely
dependent upon him, he regarded his
disability as a blessing.
Still, he was astrong Confederate, and
on this particular morning, while he was
limping slowly along the rough country
road, he paused more than once to listen
with a frowning face to the sullen boom
of Saerman s guns, several miles away.
“I am not able to do much fighting,”
he muttered, “but if they come to Blue
Rock and cut up any I’ll kill some of
them if I have to die for it!”
He meant what he said. This quiet
young farmer had plenty of grit when
he was put to the test.
The walk tired him, and he left the
road and stretched himself in a grassy
place under the shade of a sturdy old
oak.
He threw himself on his back and
closed his eyes for a moment. Then he
looked up into the green foliage above
him.
A queer expression flitte 1 over his
face, but his gaze remained fixed upon
one point.
In a careless way he raised hi
hand to his face, and stroked his
moustache. Then the hand wandered
down over his vest toying with each
button. At last it slipped downward to
SAVANNAH. GA.. SATURDAY. DECEMBER’.#!.IBB-7.
a hip pocket, and reappeared as quick
as & flash of lightning, this time with a
pistol aimed upward.
“Now, you come down,” said Dick
son gruffly.
“Ha! ha!” laughed some one up in the
tree. “You have found me, have you?”
The laugh surprised and irritated
Dickson. His keen eyes had discovered
a fellow with a blue uniform sitting on
one of the topmost limbs of the tree. It
had flashed into his head that it would
be an easy matter to capture him, and
march him into Blue Rock. And now
the rascal was laughing at him!
“Yon’ll grin on the wrong side of
your mouth pretty soon,” said Dickson.
“I mean business. Don’t you know
that you are my prisoner?”
“Well, no,” was the cool reply, “I
hadn’t thought of it in that light. In
fact, I was under the impression that
you were my prisoner, and I was won
dering how to dispose of you.”
“Confound you!” roared the r young
farmer. “If you don’t come down at
once I’ll shoot!”
“See here, my friend,” answered the
soldier, “you don’t understand the
situation.” *
“O, Idont!” shouted Dickson.
“No, where arc your eyes? Take a
good look, but don’t move.”
Thus appealed to, Dickson allowed
his eyes to run over the soldier’s entire
figure. He gave a start of surprise. The
Federal held in his right hand a revolver
aimed at the man on the ground.
“I have had you covered ever since
you came here,” said the man in the tree.
“And what do you think of doing?”
asked Dickson in a tantalizing way.
“I am going to shoot if you try to get
up, or if you cock your pistol,” was th
response; “but I expect to persuade you
to drop your weapon and go off to the
top of that hill yonder.”
“You are a fool!” shouted Dickson.
“Don’t you know that somebody from
town will come along soon and help me
capture you?’’
“And don’t you know,” replied the
other, “that some of our cavalry are
coming this way, and may be here any
moment?”
Dickson studied the face above him.
It was a dark, clear-cut, handsome face,
very youthful and pleasant in its expres
sion.
“Why, you are a boy, ain’t you?” was
his next question, as he took in the
lithe, willowy form.
“Never mind what I am; my captain
is satisfied with me, and that is
enough.”
“ You had better drop your pistol and
come dowm. I’ll see that you are
treated well.”
“Thanks. Hadn’t you better lay
down your weapon and march over that
hili, and go home to your wife and
children, if you have any? I am not
particularly anxious to have our boys
come along and capture you.”
The frank and fearless eyes looking
into Dickson’s had a kind look, and the
angry farmer found that his wrath was
gradually melting. After all,he thought,
there would be little glory in capturing
this bo; soldier. And then the fellow’s !
story might be true. If the Federals 1
were coming in that direction it was '
time for good Confederates to hie out. !
“What are you doing here, anyhow?’’ .
he asked.
“I slipped in Blue Rock last night,” |
was the answer, “and some of your peo
ple chased me out. “My horse was shot
and 1 had to take to the woods. I
climbed up here to be safe until our
cavalry came along.”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” broke in
Dickson, I don’t much want to take
you prisoner, and I don’t want to shoot
you. On the other hand, I’ll admit that
I have no fancy for being shot myself.
But I’m not going to throw down my
pistol. I will get up and go to town
and when your crowd comes, if it comes |
at all, you may expect a hot reception if
you are not too many for u . ’
There was a pause for a moment, and
then the soldier in the tree spoke.
“All right, I’ll trust you,” ho said.
“Go ahead and I'll take no advantage
of you. But you may expect to see me
in Blue Rock before night.”
“We’ll take care of Blue Rock,” de
fiantly responded Dickson. “Well, I’m
off. Good-bye I”
And he rose to his feet, and walked
off as briskly as he CQuld. He scorned
to look back. If the federal was mean
enough to break his word and fire, it was
all right. But his heart bumped against
his ribs until he had placed 100 yards
between him and the tree.
When the blue jackets swarmed into
the village that afternoon the score or
two of male inhabitants saw that re
sistance was useless against such a force.
“The captain sent me to guard your
property,” said a soldier, as he paused
in front of Dickson’s door.
“I am obliged to him,’’ replied Dick
son, “but I don’t see why.”
The man went on duty, and the little
family passed the night undisturbed,
and with the feeling that they were se
curely protected,
“The captain requests you to come to
his head quarter’s !”
This message made Dickson a little
nervous when it was delivered to him
the next morning. His wife could not
conceal her alarm.
“There is nothing wrong,” the messen
ger assured her. “The captain’ merely
desires to see your husband a moment.”
There was nothing to do but to go.
Dickson quieted his wife, and proceeded
to the dwelling indicated to him as the
cap tai n’s head qu arte rs.
“Glad to see you, Mr. Dickson,” the
captain remarked with a peculiar smile,
“My wife wishes to thank you for your
courteous and sensible conduct yester
day.”
“Your wife!” exclaimed the farmer.
And then he saw what had escaped his
notice, that there was a lady in the
room. A very charming little lady,
Dickson thought. She looked fresh and
bright in her simple traveling dress, and
her curly hair, cut short like a boy’s,
gave her a roguish look. The lady’s
face was strangely familiar, and when
the astonished Confederate gazed into
her eyes he recognized her.
“You were the soldier in the tree!”
ho cried.
“The same,” admitted the captain’s
wife with a laugh.
“You see,” exclaimed the captain,
“my wife would come down to see me
in camp, and she would wear a soldier’s
uniform. She is a headstrong little
thing, and I had to yield, but after her
adventure of yesterday 1 have persuaded
her to return home. War is a bad
thing, my friend, if the ladies are to go
soldiering.”
By this time Dickson felt perfectly at
home. His hosts were in such a jolly,
good humor that it was contagious and
the visitor spent a delightful half hour.
The Federals did not hold Blue Rock
long. They moved off with the main
body of the army but before they left
the captain’s adventurous wife had been
shipped home by her husband.
“Queer things happen in war times,”
was Dickson’s comment on the affair
when he spoke of it afterward to his
friends, “and I tell you it is a wonder
that the captain’s wife didn’t capture me
and inarch me off. She is a daisy, if
there ever was one!”—[Atlanta Consti
tution.
A Deer Conquers a Bear.
That peacefully disposed young bear
which Thomas Strong presented to the
city is kept chained in the deer paddock
at the city park. The other day it
broke its chain and started in to have a
venison dinner. It ran after the deer
til! the young buck turned on it and
combed its fur with his horns and
kicked it on the snout and made the
blood run, and finally the bear imitated
Zucchen- and climbed a tree, while the
Luck stood guard at the bottom with
fire in his eyes and frothing at the mouth
with rage. The brief association of
that bear with the colony at Mfctlakahtla
it seems dhl not eradicate all the savage
nature of the brute. But it will prob
ably wait till it is bigger before it tries
to eat that buck again. —[ Portland Ore
gonian.
Blessing-, are strewed like flowers in
our pathway ; it rests with us to gather
them up carefully or pass them by. <
Making Stick Candy.
A contributor to the American An
alyst says, in an article on the mysteries
of candy making: Sugar is bought by
the ton, starch and glucose in large
quantities, cocoanuts by the car load,
besides cochineal, prepared fruits, etc.
The business may properly be divided
into two general branches the making
of stick candy and of the various fancy
kinds. The most interesting branch by
all odds is the first mentioned, and is as
much of a revelation when seen for the
first time as glass-blowing. The mix
ture, after boiling, is thrown in a plastic
state on large stone slabs, where it runs
out flat into thick sheets. These sheets
are repeatedly picked up, doubled over
and kneaded together until they become
of the right consistency, when they are
rolled into one immense cylinder of a
grayish color. A narrow strip of the
same mixture, colored red with
cochineal, is laid along one side of the
larger piece and adheres to it. Little
strips of a shade made whiter by pull
ing are also laid lengthwise, and all
around that cylinder equal distances
apart. This gives an immense stick of
soft, gray candy, with one big red
stripe and several white ones, all run
ning lengthwise on it.
A man with a pair of gloves on takes
hold of this and pulls it out the whole
length of the long table, at one end of
which it lies, runs his closed hand along
the sugar rope thus made with such dex
terity as to m ike it perfectly round an I
of the exact size hi wishes, twists the
rope once or twice to make the stripes
run round it, and, presto, there is a stick
of candy long as a fishpole. All this is
done as quick as a wink, the long,pliant
ropes squirming into place like snakes
under the magician’s hand, until the
whole table is covered with them.
When they arc cool they are cut into
the right length with a peculiar pair of
shears.
The Czar's Son.
Michael, the third son of the Russian
emperor, is in the naval service. Some
thing more than a year ago, when hold
ing the rank of a midshipman, the flag
ship in which ho was serving was
wrecked on the coast of Denmark. The
admiral ordered the life-boats to be low
ered, and directed Michael to take
charge of the first one. The royal mid
shipman declined to obey.
“I am your commanding officer, and
I order you into the boat!” cried the ad
miral.
“I cannot obey you,” returned the
prince. “It would not become a son of
the emperor to be the first to leave the
ship. I shall remain with you till the
last.”
“But I shall put you under arrest for
disobedience, as soon as circumstances
will allow me.”
“I mean no disobedience, but I can
not obey,” persisted Michael.
In due time the crew, with the ex
ception of four or five men, reached the
shore in safety, and the last to leave the
vessel were the admiral and Duke
Michael. Then as soon as temporary
shelter was obtained, therigi I discipline
of naval life was resumed, and the young
prince was placed under arrest for dis
obedience to orders.
The Russian Minister at Copenhagen,
being at once informed of the facts, tele
graphed them to the emperor, and re
ceived from him the following reply:
“ I approve the act of the admiral in
placing the midshipman under arrest so
disobeying orders, and I bless and kiss
my son for disobeying them.”—[Youths’
Compa ion.
A Man Who Dies Often.
“A man died in St. Louis the other
day who once had an opportunity
afforded him of buying for $lO a pl >t of
western land now worth $25,000,00').”
This man, by the way, had died about
twice a year for more than a quarter of
a century. Ho u quite as numerous as
the man who, once upon a time, might
have purchased tlyo whole of Manh ittan
Island for a barrel of whisky and a pair
of boots. Unfortunately he didn’t have
either the whisky or the boots. —[Nur
rwtuwn Herald.
i ft. 25 Per Annum; 75 cents For Six Months;
• 50 cents Tlin • Months; Single Copies
( 5 cents'-In Advance.
Cormorant Fishing.
In China tamo cormorants are trained
to fish for their masters. Rev. Justis
Doolittle thus describes the process of
cormorant fishing:
“ The fisherman who has charge of
the cormorants stands upon a raft of
bamboo polos, very light, and propallcd
by a paddle. A basket is placed on it
to contain the fish. Each raft has three
or four cormorants connected with it.
When not fishing, they crouch down
stupidly on the raft.
“The fisherman, when he wishes to
make a cormorant fish, pushes or throws
it off tho raft into tho water. If it is
not disposed nt once to dive and seek
for fish, he sometimes strikes it, so that
it is glad to dive, and get out of his
reach.
“When it has eaught a fish, it rises to
tho surface, holding it in its mouth,
and apparently striving to swallow it. A
string tied loosely around its neck, or a
metallic ring, effectually prevents swal
lowing, except, perhaps, in the case of
very small fish. “It usually swims di
rectly for tho raft. Tho fisherman,
when near enough, dexterously passes a
net-like bag, fastened, to tho end of a
pole, over tho two, and draws them
both on the raft. Ho then forces tho
fish from the grasp of tho bird, and, as
if to reward the latter for its success,
gives it a mouthful of food, which it is
enabled to swallow, on his raising tho
ring from tho lower part of its neck.
Tho bird, if apparently tired out, is al
lowed to rest awhile on tho raft, and
then it is pushed off again into the
water, and made to divo and hunt for
fish as before.
“Sometimes one bird will hasten to
tho assistance of another which has
caught a large fish which ho may be un
able to master; the bird will help his
comrade to carry his prize to the raft,
and then fly back and resume its own
labors.”
Washington’sCliiircli Pew in New York
Trinity, says a New York letter, is
often spoken of as if it were on old
church, and indeed the site has been
occupied since 1690 and its graveyard—
the one quiet place on busy Broadway—
open since 1703. But the building has
been enlarged t wice, burned, rebuilt,
pulled down and again rebuilt in that
time, tho present beautiful Gothic
structure dating from 1816 only. Much
older in reality is St. Paul’s, no great
distance above it, built in 1766. Tho
finest Sir Christopher Wren model in
this country they used to call it. It
was meant to front on Church street,
and the old steeple stands on that side,
but Broadway grew in importance so
rapidly that it, had an incongruous
Greek portico added afterwards and in
a different architectural period, giving
the present front on Broadway. Con
gress erected a mural tomb to Mont
gomery, the hero of Quebec, in its front
wall in 1776, and his remains were in
terr d under it in 1818. Washington
used to attend St. Paul’s, and his pew
is still pointed out. The Methodist
church in John street, has the Wesley
pulpit and is cherished as the cradle of
the sect in this country, but it is not an
old-time building, the original structure
put up in 1776 having been replaced by
a second on the srun ■ site.
High Peaks Left for Climbers.
Alth -ii h I) . Mey;r his succeeded in
making the ascent of Kibo, the highest
peak on the Kilima Njaro range, there
is no oi e ■ ion for any note I Alpine
climber to sit down and weep because ,
there arc no other moa itains to conquer.
Th- Alps, the Andes Mount Cook in
N' Zealand, and Kilim'.-Njaro are all
gi. ci. a dy, but they are dwarfed
by some of the Tibetan Mountains. Mr.
Gr ham a ■ led me or two of these a
few years ag >, but he failed to reach
the top of the Kinchinjunga, which is
8000 feet hRb r than Kibo, and Mount
Everest, the highest peak in th' 1 world,
is till virgin soil. In the Himalayan
ran.;''t : i ar ■ more than fifty peaks
that rise to a greater altitude than
Kilima N iro, which Dr. Meyer esti
mates at close upon 20,000 feet. The
Alpine Clubs should establish branches
in <e. ’r d Asia.—jst James’ Gazette.
NO. 11.