Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XIX.
COLUMBUS SUNDAY ENQUIRER: SUNDAY, .FEBRUARY 18, 1877.
NO. 42
THE EMIGRANT'S BETl'KX,
nv V. A. WOOLPOLK.
Missouri Republican.]
Oli dnrker grows the winter night,
And bitter cold the blast,
And dimmer shows the feeble light
Through storm-clouds rising fast.
Fr’m distant lands and wand’rlngs far
Tins cheer) Bs night I coma.
And i ow there's notone guiding star
To light me to my home.
Well I remember the bright day
I bade tl, so scenes edien;
II ipe entered me on my lightsome way,
And th n my fears were few.
Youth’s coarsge then my heart upbore
The parting hour to meet;
Though sad the looks my father wore,
And sore did nuttier greet.
JVIy wife but closer to an dung,
1 fWas liomi wnera er 1 wont;,
And lilt c nubbin was too young
To know what parti ug m ant.
With fearless hearts we crossed the main,
OurN w World home to cl.ini,
And hard strove to fortune gain,
'1111 fell misfortune came.
first little Kobhiu drooped uuddied,
And ere the in >und was greeo,
Another grave dug by i s side
Received my bounie Jean.
My courage died with chid anl wife,
And though I struggled Sore,
IVo Strength lia 1 l to he ir the strife,
And nothing prospered more.
'1 heir graves 1 left in that far land;
its beauties charmed no more:
And now this clreerh ss night I stand
On Scotia's rugged shore.
Oh uicor'aud winds that round me blow
So hitter and so hloak,
Can ye uo touch of mercy show,
Nor fitter welcome speak?
In ghicfnl tiinos of long ago
Thy Wildest song and strife
' hike joy-bells ringing to and fro
.Made glad my lrappy life.
Thy latter breath now wakes sharp care,
To keener pangs impart.
And ad 1 to burdens that I bear
Of sorrow in my heart.
[Written for the Sunday Kuqulrer.]
MISS LYDE.
A Story In Two Chapters.
BT NELL TELL.
CHAPTER I.
The mellow radiance of the early morn
ing min was flooding the little bare room
with brightness, and fl ishing and spark
ling o'er the casket of jewels that Lydia
Lyde held in her hand.
“Twenty-two years old to-day”—so
run her thoughts—“and what does life
promise that 1 should want to live another
score. But two short years since the
withering, crushing loss of all I loved
came upon me, blighting the grand, joy
ous anticipations of a happy, brilliant fu
ture. Two little years, and yet wbat
ages of pain aud heartache do they hold.
Ah! how my poor heart is craving again
the sweet tokens of remembrance, words
of love, sympathy and oheer that once
made this hallowed season the brightest
of all (ho year. Well, since Bod has giv
en me health aud a spirit of independence
I will not sit supinely down and suffer,
but up and act at once. This state of
things I cannot longer bear, but I fear
Dr. ilolt will not regard personally the
plans I have formed. No matter I shall
be Arm as a rock.”
Just theu she was interrupted by a lit
tle voice ealliug:
“Miss Lyda O! Miss Lyda,mamma says
come there.”
Hastily putting away the trinkets and
jewelry that once belonged to her mother,
which she had been handling with loving
tenderness, crudely estimating the value
of each article aud hoping by sale of the
most costly to acquire means to put her
contemplated project ia execution, she
rose and followed the child.
“Did you send for me, Mrs. Holt?”
“Yes, I did. What have you been do
ing ever since breakfast? I want yon to
help me with this sewing. Graoions
knows if I was as dependent as you are I
would try to make inyself of some use in
this world.”
There fl.tted o'er the girl’s faoe a look
of haughty scorn—the color leaped up
redly then retreated, leaving her very
pale as she quietly said:
“You know 1 aui at all times ready and
willing to assist you."
“I don't believe it. You are as prond
as Lucifer, and carry your head higher
than any ruler in Christendom. I’ll not
put up with it, that I can tell yon. Meek
ness aud humility would better become
one in your position.”
Very patiently Lyda answered:
“You are mistaken, Mrs. Holt. And
since I hud the task of pleasing you be
yond my ability I have been thinking of
going away.”
“I’d like to know where you would go
or who would have you with your high
aud mighty notions. Pride must have a
fall—remember that.”
All the scornful, indignant looks had
vauished from the girl’s face, and instead
there rested the shadow of the mo9t pro
found sadness, now almost habitual to
her. As she bent low over her work the
large salt tears trickled one by one down
her cheeks, and she thought despairingly
ci ner w.-etched, dreary condition.
Lyda had been the idolized and petted
child of wealthy parents, but misfortunes
coming upon theta her mother had died
jlist as the warm, tender impulses of her
daughter s girlhood wore mingling with
the deeper feelings of womanhood. And
shortly after, her father, broken hearted
over the loss of wife, property, and
friends, had in a fit of madness and de
spair, taken his own life. Since which
time, now about two years, Lyda, the
once cherished darling, had been living
with the family of Dr. Holt.
The Doctor had become maoh Attached
to her and strove earnestly to brighten
and cheer her pathway by every means
in his power.
But he was a poor man, a delicate,hard
worked country physician, with many lit
tle ones to care for.
Mrs. Holt, his wife, a coarse-minded,
tyrannical woman, whom it was impossi
ble to either like or respect, regarded the
girl as an interloper, and was so jealous
of her husband’s fatherly love and kind
ness for the forlorn orphan, that she
made life a burden to her. Neither coaid
she bear to see the children’s evident af
fection for her. Their artlessly expressed
preference would quickly arouse the de
mon’s anger and j< alousy from their liar
ia her breast, and then the monsters
reigning supreme would make but a sor
ry, gloomy household.
Although Dr. Holt knew of his wife’s
dislike for Lyda, he was not aware of the
many taunts and insults she daily—nay
hourly—suffered. Such was her misera
ble, woeful state that she had begun to
look upon the darkness of night with a
restful longing, as bringing the only
peaceful moments she knew, and the
morning light as but the prelude to rasp
ing humiliations and sorrow, the most
unendurable.
Olri heart be still: 0! yes, drink up thy tears
Why should they fall? dimmed enough unshed;
Oh, quivering lips so pit-ons—
Why cani’t thou not he cold aud want
Such thoughts as these, so rare in one
so young, led her at length to break the
galling chain that bound her to such mel
ancholy scenes. She dreamed not now
of “bearing the ills” she knew but felt
that any place, or condition, preferable
to remaining longer beneath the roof of
this despotic domineering woman.
Next morning, before the dootor went
bis rounds, she said to him:
“I wish to speak with you, if you oan
spare me a few minutes.”
“Certainly. What is it you want to say
Lyda?”
“Only this, that I have, after much re
flection,decided to leave here. And though
I am fully convinced that in all the wide
world I shall never find such another
friend as you have been to me,still for all
that I must go.”
“Where would you go, my child?”
“To New York.”
The doctor opened wide his kindly, bine
eyes.
“Are you serious? Do you really de
sire to leave me?”
It is not a matter of choice. Mrs.
Holt has frequently intimated that she
preferred I should find another home.
You know I am a pauper living on your
bounty, and can make no adequate return
for what you have done for me. Be
sides,” she adu.-d, hesitatingly, “I am
very unhappy here.”
“I regret that my house has not proved
the pleasant home I hoped to make it for
you. Indeed I have noticed for Borne
time that you were looking care-worn
and troubled,aud have been casting about
in my mind for some method of relief. ”
“I thank you more than I can express
for your generous, thoughtful kindness,
but I should like to start North next week.
You may not have forgotten that my pa
rents were originally New Yorkers, and I
may be fortunate enough to stnmble on
soma friend or relation of theirs who
would aid me in my efforts to find a sit
uation where I could support myself.”
“Lyda, dear girl, I can never consent
for yon to go off so far alone. I fear to
trust my little girl away from me. Oh!
you cannot realize the trials and tempta
tions that will assail you.”
“My mind is fully made up, dear doc
tor, and nothing can shake my determi
nation. But it would grieve me very
much to go without your approval.”
“If your only desire is to live indepen
dently—though you have more than re
paid the little I have done for you by
your services to my children—why not
stay with me and take the public school
near here?”
“That, I’m sure, would never suit me.
It seems like burying myself. Please
don’t urge any more objections fori must
go-”
“My poor child, what au ignius fata us
you are pursuing. The idea seems
fraught with untold misery. You would
be but as a lamb in the midst of wolves,
friendless, penniless, a stranger in that
great wicked city. Pray for my sake, if
yon will not for yonr own sake, resign so
foolish a scheme and try and content your
self here.”
Her brain was throbbing violently—
outward'y she was calm, but inwardly she
was summing up her future.
“Do not—oh! do not press me to stay,
doctor. I have mapped out my life, and
fate itself shall not defeat me now. It is
my ambition to become a writer, but here
it is a fact that both mind and heart
would soon be paralized. Ia New York I
would submit to the most humble em*
ployment for the sake of the innumerable
advantages accruing from a residence
there. None of our Southern cities can so
promote my plans. I love art,music,and
literature, and in fancy I can anticipate
the exquisite delight I shall have in visit
ing the great libraries, galleries of art
and hearing, with the keenest intellectual
appreciat ion, the lectures on various sub
jects, delivered by wise and soholarly
men. How my meagre powers, and ca
pacities would expand and develop ia
such an atmosphere of learning.”
Dr. Holt could not forbear smiling at
her enthusiasm.
“But you can’t go without money, my
child, and I am afraid I can spare you but
little.”
“Don’t let that trouble you. I have cal
culated the cost, and hope by the sale of
my jewels to realize sufficient to keep me
until I can get a place.”
Mrs. Holt now burst upon them like a
sto rm.
“What are you two juggling about,”
she asked, her features almost deformed
with passion. “Are you aware, doctor,
that Jimmie Fort has come again for
you to see his mother? I would like to
know what it is of such paramount im
portance that makes you neglect your pa
“tients.”
“We were only having a preliminary
conversation in reference to my depart
ure. I told you yesterday that I would
soon leave here,” said Lyda, hoping to
appease her wrath by this information.
“Leave here indeed. Not you Lyda
Lyde. Yon are too well pleased to stay
and queen it over ma. ”
Dr, Holt laid his hand on the shoulder
of his wife, and said something to bar in
tones too low for Lyda to oatoh their im
port. B Whatever, they were the effect
was far from soothing. The infuriated
woman, marching up to the trembling
girl, with a threatening motion of her
haud, blazed forth angrier than ever:
“I want you to understand that I know
you. You have been here long enough
for me to discover that yon are no better
than you should be. It will take a smar
ter person than you dare pretend to be, to
puli the ‘woolover my eyes.’”
“Hush, I command you,” said the doo
tor. “I blush to see you so utterly inca
pable of one noble generous impulse and
such a slave to that baneful temper of
yours.”
The shrewish creature saw from the
flashing eye, and stern determination
written on her husband’s brow,
that it would not do to bandy words
'with him. Consequently she left the
room, but not before exploding this part
ing shot.
“I will give you a week to get out of
my house, Miss Lyde, aud then, if yon
are not gone, I will put you out bag and
baggage.”
“Lyda, with tearful eyes, was looking
sadly at the doctor. Her action and man
ner all seemed mntely pleading that he
would no longer oppose her. He under
stood her, and said, “Perhaps, my dear,
it is best you should go, but promise me
if you do not succeed in your underta
king that you will return to me before
your funds are exhausted.”
CHAPTER II.
One morning, a week or ten days later
as Mr. Hope, of the banking firm of
“Hope & Troost,” sat in his private office,
a sealed envelope was handed to him. It
contained only a lady’s card, npon which
was written—
“Miss Lyde,
St. James Hotel.’
On the reverse side was penciled—
“Will Mr. Hope do me the honor of
calling to see me some time to-day; and
will he please name the hour at which he
can most conveniently come.”
“Who in the misohief is Miss Lyde? I
am sure I never heard of her before;
though she may know something of me,”
thought Mr. Hope.
Wondering wbat she oonld want with
him, he returned for answer that he wonld
call at 8 p. m. Punctual to the hour, he
sent up his card. He was not kept long
waiting.
Miss Lyde soon made her appearance.
He saw a lady of medium height, full of
grace and dignity. Her lovely face bore
traaes of sorrow, and there was a wistful,
imploring expression in her velvety eyes
that strangely belied the quiet, indomita
ble energy that characterited her month.
In a voice soft and vibrant she spoke.
“You are Mr. Hope! I thank you for
responding so promptly to my request.
Pray be seated, and I will not detain you
very long, while I explain the motives
that urged me to sepd for you.”
The gentleman professed himself will
ing to listen.
In tones full of melody and feeling,
she related the causes that induced her to
leave the South and seek employment in
New York; and also, why she was led to
apply to him, a total stranger, for aid and
counsel.
“I only arrived in the city last night,”
she said, “and whilst looking over this
morniug’s papers, I was forcibly impress
ed with the name of a business firm that
met my eye—‘Hope and Troost, bankers.’
At the first casual glance I read it Hope
<fc Trust. What a curious combination
of words, I thought, and how significant.
I know absolutely no one out of the
hundreds of thousands who dwell here,
and will take these names as an omen of
good. Actuated by these considerations
I, without further thought, wrote to you.
Shakespeare, I know, tells us, “there is
nothing in a name,” but I dare to disa
gree with the great master, and should
perhaps confess to a little lurking super
stition in my nature, too.”
A hundred idle speculations were form
ing io the mind of Mr. Hope as she
spoke. What was the woman up to—and
how inconsistent was her appearance and
story? He oould not reconcile them, for
her elegant dress of handsome black silk,
fitting exquisitely her beantifal form,with
rare old filmy lace, falling around neck
and arms, was such as an empress might-
have worn. The gas-light lingered quiv
ering and glowing upon the only orna
ment in jewel she wore—a peerless dia
mond ring that encircled her slender fin
ger. There was not a particle of color
about her save the peach bloom blush of
cheeks that seemed vieing with the rich
coral tints of her lips. But then, how
was he to know that the dress was her
only nice one, and fashioned by her own
deft fingers from an old one that, with
lace and ring, once belonged to her dead
mother. Resolving not to commit him
self until he was satisfied that she was
worthy of credit, he enquired:
“What kind of work did you wish to
to obtain here?”
“If you, sir, have the power and will
to lend ms your assistance in the matter,
I shall not be found choioe. Any honest
work I am willing to do, if thereby I can
support myself. I am qualified to teach
the higher English branches and mnsic
and would be highly gratified to get a po
sition in a private family.”
“Fromwhat State are you?”
“South Carolina.”
“Have you no friends there who oould
give you a plaoe?”
“None who are able to help me. I am
alone in the world, and the distress and
destitution south are almostinconceivable.
Every available place there is filled by the
thousands of women and girls, striving
for a livelihood, and as many more are
anxiously seeking work. The South is
poor, the North rich, and although I
come here without money or friends, I
have faith to believe I shall sucoeed.”
Mr. Hope would still like to have had
explained the discrepancy between her
plea of friendless poverty, and the fact
of her stopping at the most fashionable
and expensive hotel; not to mention her
oostly dress. He felt sore the large glit
tering stone in her ring was genuine, and
very valuable. The laoe too was real,
and doubly preoious from age and fine
ness.
“I much fear, Miss Lyde, that you will
be disappointed in your hopes of getting
a position here. There are soores of ap
plicants for every vacanoy. ’’
Again she repeated to him the few
plans she had formed before leaving her
native State.
“The gentleman I lived with sinoe the
death of my parents was very kind to me
but I had no claims on him, and indeed
was unwilling to rest under obligations to
any one. Life to me is no child’s play,
and it is necessary that I should he np and
doing. Of course I can refer you to those
at home who can vouch for my respecta
bility aud attainments. ’’
When she* subsided into silence, Mr.
Hope continued looking steadily at her.
There was^iothing bold nor pronounced
in her manners—neither was there yield
ing timidity, but a subtle indefinable
blending of self-reliance and retiring
modesty that was very pleasing. Rising
to go, he said, “I will look around, Miss
Lyde, and see what can be done for you,
and will see you again soon.”
On reaching home, he found a tele
gram from Boston, urging his immediate
presence in that city, on matters of im
portance. As the train would not start
in an hour, he looked up Mr. Troost, and
after the discussion of some business af
fairs, referred to Miss Lyde, and request
ed him to see her.
“But take care, Troost, she is a very
fascinating person and may get you into
trouble, I cannot yet decide whether or
not she is a clever adventuress, but from
the little I have seen, am rather inclined
to believe her story true. However, you
had better be on your guard. Look into
the matter and help her if she is worthy,
for she has interested me greatly, and I
hope appearances are not deceiving.”
‘O! she cant fool me,” langhed Mr.
Troost, “I am too old now to be oaught
by such chaff.”
Remember last summer how a little
charmer took you in. ”
“It is because I have profited by that
experience that I proclaim myself invul
nerable. But really the charmer as you
oall her, was the shrewdest woman I ever
met, aud had the wit and cunning to
bamboozle the wisest man.”
“Well, good-bye; I must be off—take
care of yourself. ”
Paul Troost was a tall, splendidly de
veloped specimen of manhood, thirty-
eight or forty years of age, with eyes of
a keen, variable gray, changing as con
stantly in expression as in color. There
was about him a Blender stratum of ro
mance underlying the deeper practical
part of his nature, and his air, gestures,
and manner all breathed the refined
gentleman. He had once beeD married
but his wife had died early, and he had
never found another to fill her plaoe in
his heart and home.
Somewhat interested in the description
of Miss Lyde, given by Mr. Hope, he
took an early opportunity of seeing her
and explaining the absence of that gen
tleman. To say that he was dazzled by
Che powers she displayed in conversation
and the winning sweetness of her deport
ment, does but faintly picture his feel
ings, but he coaid not quite comprehend
hoV this talented, accomplished giri
conld be here alone under such peculiar
circumstances. Swimming in this sea of
conjecture, he asked if she knew any one
in Charleston, S. C.
“I once lived there,” she replied—“but
was a small girl when my parents re
moved. I expect there are many persons
still living there who knew my family. ”
Here was the olue he wanted; he knew
several parties there and would write to
them for information as to the antece
dents of Miss Lyde—they might be able
to furnish all he wanted. Mr. Troost’B
encounter last summer with the “charm
er” had made him very cautious, and it
was a little unfortunate for Lyda, though,
to be cure, he was inclined to aid her as
soon as he was satisfied of her worthi
ness.
He visited her several times while
waiting for letters from Charleston which
were unaccountably delayed. The sun
rose and set and rose again, until a week
had rolled by since Miss Lyda’s arrival
in the city, and nothing seemed done or
doing looking towards getting her posi
tion. Her life was now a fever-dream of
alternate hope and despair.
One evening when he called he found
her more than usually depressed, aud she
eagerly searched his faoe for good tidings
—but when he repeated the same tale of
ineffectual efforts, she clasped her hands
and leaning towards him, said feelingly:
“Oh, you cannot, cannot fail if you try
very hard. I do not think I can wait
much longer, and it would be terrible to
to go back South without accomplishing
anything.” Then, while deep shadows
of pain and grief looked out of her
pleading eyes, in a tremulous voice, she
said: “My funds will soon be exhausted
—could you not get me some copying to
do until something better offers itself. I
feel quite desperate this evening; and
have nearly gotten my consent to take a
servant’s place rather than return to
South Carolina.”
Mr. Troost, ever on the alert to oatch
everything that might tend to reveal her
character, expressed some astonisment
that she, with her thorough education and
culture, could for a moment think of a
menial's place.
“Better that than starvation,” she
mournfully replied.
“Will you allow me to replenish yonr
purse and drive you out to the park to
morrow?’* he asked.
Shame, oh! shame, that she had unwit
tingly subjected herself to such an in
sult.
Rising from her chair and confronting
him she said, with a haughty bend of her
head, “Suoh a proposition is not deserv
ing of any reply. If I misjudge yonr
motives you will please pardon me.”
Then turning away, she left him oon-
founded at his own temerity in daring to
propose giving or even lending money to
this elegant woman. He regretted it the
more that he had began to regard her as
mach more than a mere acquaintance. In
fact, he found she had, by some unac
countable means, daring the few days he
had known her, so twined herself about
bis heart that he now thought of nothing
else. Even daring business hours, her
attractive face constantly haunted him,
and her sweet voice renewed again all the
tender,glowing visions of his early youth.
He wrote her a respectful note of apolo
gy, to which she deigned no reply. Go
ing again to see her, she refused him an
interview.
Great heavens! his panishment was
terrible—but was it disproportioned to
the offense? Ia the meantime letters of
good report had come from Charleston,
and bat increased his anxiety for a recon
ciliation with her. He would do all that
man could to effect his purpose and again
sought her but to be only again refused.
There wa3 boarding in the same hotel
with Lyda a lady, Mrs. Park, the mother
of three little children. The girl’s won
derful fascinations operated alike on both
men and those of her own sex, and the
warm, smpathetio heart of this kind lady
waB touched with pity for the lonely
stranger. Lyda, in her desperation, had
confided her deplorable situation to her,
and modestly begged her advice and help.
Mrs. Park was so favorably impreesed
with her evident truth aud innocence that
she did not hesitate long before engaging
her services as governess for her chil
dren, her duties to commence as soon as
they had removed to their new home on
avenue.
The day previous to their removal, Mr.
Troost perseveringly called again to see
Lyda.
She, thinking, perhaps, that she had
taught him a sufficient lesson, saw him.
“Miss Lyde, you have made me the
most miserably abject mao in the city.
Oh! why have you so persistently refus
ed to see me, that I might correct and
explain away the oanseof your auger.”
Her lip curled a little.
“Will yon not forgive me and aooept
the amende honorable that I humbly offer
now?”
He spoke earnestly and with a certain
pathos in his tones that visibly affected
her. But she remained silent, looking at
him somewhat disdainfully.
Seeing she did not speak, he continued:
“I have at length succeded in finding a
place for you that I hope will suit, end
one that you will not refuse.”
She stopped him. “I beg you will not
trouble yourself any longer about me,
though I cordially thank you for what
you have done. But I have already se
cured a very desirable situation with a
most estimable lady here in the house.”
“May I ask her name?”
“Mrs. Park."
“You s*y well, for she is a splendid
woman. I used to know her slightly in
her husband’s lifetime, and most heartily
congratulate you?”
Now the place he had alluded to was
no other than making her his wife, but
from her cool, indifferent bearing, he felt
that the time had not come to propose.
It was but natural he should contract
the habit of calling on her in her new
home,and as Mrs. Park’s friendly interest
in her but increased the better she knew
her, she was glad to see her noticed and
admired by Mr. TrooRt, of whom she
thought so highly.
The soft spring days were coming on
and he would no longer delay the knowl
edge of his fate. Ardent and impetuous
in his great passion as a .boy, he bluntly
asked her to be his wife.
She made a little gesture with her hand
and looked at him incredulously.
“This is but a sudden impulse, I
think,” she Baid, “and I decline being
trifled with in this manner.”
“So far from being a sudden impulse,
Lyda, the place 1 alluded to as having
secured for your acceptance a few
months ago, was in reality the mistress
of my heart and home; and only the fear
of being too precipitate has kept me si
lent.”
She lifted her eyes, now much soften
ed, and her voice faltered from real feel
ing.
“This is very unexpected, Mr. Troost,
you have taken me by surprise.”
“You must have seen and known that
I loved you. Oh, give me some hope.”
She was thinking “What a sweet ha
ven of rest he offers me”—and her heart
was joyfully echoing his tender mnrmur-
ed words of love, as bending o’er her he
said, “Look up, darling, and make me
happier than a king.”
And she did.
FEY LOW.
BY CHEBBY JAMES.
To mortal kin 1 of all degrees
1 give hie gooi advi.-e:
Our lPes, whate er ur birth or name.
Are but a game ' f dice;
He wh get* doublet* > t o e throw,
The next gets le at of a'l—
Fly low, ~nd if your wings do fail,
You’ve not so ar to fail.
Fair r or une is a fickle da e—
She smiles on you to-day,
To-morrow turns her tack on yon,
And go s yonr neignbo ’§ wav.
Fret not, bnt still enjoy the good
Ih tcome your way, though small
Hy low and if \our wings be clipped,
You’ve not so far to f 1 .
And fame—rh, ’tis a sorry J d-;
The weight upon the ground
You s orn from up its laddered height
May yet re* h topm st round.
And you, by one uiistep, m y lose
Fume, fortune, honor, all—
Fly low, until >our wings you prove,
You\e not eo fur to fall.
No summer sky so clear end bright
But that som cloud • bscur e;
No cou s- In life so prosperous
But that s me soare a iiires.
Th>- so tear, bulrnp st b eez i' ay end
In 3 rce a .d agin - squ 11—
F/y low, and if bad lac., b tiJe,
You’ve not s j far to rail.
Some p li’icians, help d by chance
Into an hono-ed S all
W ithio the pnol c crib, forget
'1 hey’re me e y public servants, all;
Their master U the ballot- 1 ox,
And gi es them sure recall—
fiy low, and f this be yonr late,
You’ve not so far to fall.
So ire preachers, too—immaculate—
Who bitter chidi >ge throw
’Gainst sin aud pride, and last and self.
Into these pit-fall go.
Who so intent on neighbor's walk
Himself in dirt wM sprawl—
Hv low, and f yonr wings do ,’t work.
You’ve not so far to fall.
No statesman, sage, or millionaire
I9 master of a dav;
Like bag of wind pr eked by a pin,
Their greatne s ebb* away.
So fay advice is etil the same,
It serves for one and all;
Fly low, and wbm your wings give out,
Yon ve not so far to full.
To Cook Rice.—Wash in cold water
several times, removing imperfect grains.
To one pint of rice put three quarts of
boiling water, let it boil seventeen min
utes from the time it fairly begins. Turn
off the water, remove the pot lid, and
put on the back of the range, thus secur
ing the grains being white, separate and
dry. For griddle cakes rioe should be
mashed, boiled in cold milk in similar
proportions, sweetened and flavored, and
turned into wet molds to torn out when
cold.
—Almanacs are ripe.
—Men of color: Painters.
—An inn-ovation: A hotel spread.\
—A light business: Making gas.
—It is natural for printers to be set up.
—The biggest moth in creation: A
mammoth.
—The girls say that a frosty moustache
is about equal to ice cream.
—To what length may the widow go
when she desires a new parent for her
children ? She may go one step father.
—The excuse a base ball nine put in
last autumn for non-appearance on the
field was that the pitcher was full.”
—The man who was “moved to tears”
complains of the dampness of the prem
ises and wishes to remove back again.
—One of our Wall street friends want
ed to know what is the difference between
the day-rate of gold and the nitrate of
silver.,
-The daughter of a Connecticut light
ning-rod man has eloped. Her compan
ion was probably an electric “spark.”
—Good housekeepers hate to put tff
wash-day. With them it is “soap defer
red that maketh the heart sick.”
—There is a man in Tennessee with
such big feet that if he gets them wet in
December, he doesn’t have a cold in the
head till February!
—In Faria everything in feminine
fashions is as tight as nature can endure.
The rage even extends to husbands in
some cases.
—“Did you notice how splendidly I
went through that last reel at the bail
last night, Tom?” “Yes, and I also no
ticed that you kept it up all the wa>
home.”
—The urchin who sat down on a heated
stove-hearth and was branded with tbe
words “Bass Burner,” has been provided
with an Ulster.”
-What this country needs is a reli
gion which will make a man feel that it
is just as Gold for his wife to get up ana
build a Are as it is for himseif.
—They said to the father of one of the
prize winners at college: “So your son
earned his spurs.” “Yes,” replied .he
practical old man, “and now he has got
to earn his boots.”
—A minister asked a new deaoon if he
had family prayer. “Yes, sir, night and
morning regular, if I have to knock eve
ry one of the young ones down on their
knees.”
—A young widow was asked why she
waa going to get married so soon after
the death of her first husband. “O, la!”
said she, “I do it to prevent fretting my
self to death on account of dear Tom. ”
—“Mrs. Spinks,” observed a boarder
to his landlady, “the equal adjustment of
this establishment could be more safely
secured if there was less hair in the hash
and more in the matresses. ”
—“Good morning, Donnelly; I hear
your daughter has a baby; is it a boy or a
girl?’! “Sure, miss, and it’s meself that
doesn’t yet know for the life of me if I’m
a grandfather or a grandmother, bedad.”
—An Irishman, who fell down on the
ice was asked why he did not wear
creepers. “Crapers!” he exolaimed, as
he scratched his head significantly, “Och
and be jabbers, I’ve plenty of crapers,
but they We in the wrong end.”
—He purohased his sweetheart a pair
of ten-button kid gluvos, and handed
them in at the door himself. The servant
girl took them, and going to the foot of
the stairs, bawled out: “Please, miss,
’ere’s a young man ez has brought you a
pair of leggins. ”
—“I had nine children to support and
it kept me busy,” said Smith to Jones, as
they met, “but one of the girls got mar
ried, “Now I have ” “Eight?” in
terrupted Jones. “No ten—counting the
son-in-law?” aaid Smith, with a sigh
which might hay* been heard afar off.
BOOTS AND SHOES.
WELLS & CURTI
RAILROADS.
ARE SELLING
BOOTS, SHOES
Leather
THIS YEAR
FOR CASH,
And, notwithstanding the great advance
in Leather, can sell
Good Work at Reasonable Prices
We have a
heavy stock
of Plantation Boots,
Brogans and Plow
Shoes. A full line of Fine
Goods in all the popular
Styles, and are constantly re
plenishing our stock with
SUCH GOODS AS THE PEO
PLE WANT.
Ail Purchases must be consider
ed as for
CAS^I ON CALL,
unless by special agreement.
WELLS & CURTIS,
73 BROAD STREET,
(Sign of the Hig Moot.)
sep30 tf
Lawyers.
CHARLES <;»l EJiA.\,
Atlorn.-y-at- Law.
Up stairs over O. E. Hochstrasser’s store.
[febli,’77 tf]
BENAETT H. CRAWFORD,
Attorney and Counsellor at Caw.
Office over Frazer’s Hardware Store.
ja!4’77 ly
Mykk H. Blandford. Louis F. Garrard.
BL.4iVOFORU A laUBAKl),
Attorneys and Counsellors at Lsw
Office No. 67 Broad street, ovir Witticli U
Kinsel’s Jewelry Store.
Will practice in the State and Federal Courts
sep4 ’75
L. T. DOWNING,
Attorney and Solicitor.
U. S. Com’r and Register in Bankruptcy.
Office over Brooks’ Drug Store, Oolumbus,Ga.
ap*O,’70
RKESK CRAWFORD. J. X. M’NEILL.
CRAWFOKD A McNIELL,
Attorneys and Counsellors at Law,
128 Broad Street, Columbus, Ga.
janl0,’;0 1y
THOS. J. CHAPPELL,
AUorncy-a.t-I.aw and Magistrate,
Office over 119 B. oud street.
mhl2,’76 ly
G. E. THOMAS,
Attorney and Counsellor at Lair,
Office:
Over Hochstrasier’sSto e, Columbus, Georgia.
[jan9,76 iyj
LIONELO. LEVY, JR.,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law.
Commissioner ot Deeds, New York and other
Stale-.
Office over Georgia Home insurance Co.
ESTATES.—Special attention to keeping ac
curate accounts, vouchers, tic., and in king
tors and Exeoutors.
oeco, 75
Watchmakers.
C. U. LEQUIN,
W atchmaker,
134 Broad Street, Columbus, Ga
Watches and Clocks repaired in
the best
manner and warranted.
j>li’76
Cun and Locksmiths.
WM. SCHOBER „
Deeler In Cuns and iminunition.
GUNS, LOCKS, Ac., REPAIRED.
39 Rakbolph Street, near Times office.
[octi 6m)
Tin and Coppersmiths.
W.W. FEE,
WorK> r in Tin, khi et Iron, Copper
Orders from abroad promptly attended to.
jyl,’7fl No. 174 Broad Street.
Piano Tuning &c.
E. W. BLAU,
Repairer and Tuner of Pianos, Organs and
Accorfleons Sign Painting al-o done.
Orders may be lelt at J W Pease St Nor-
man’g Book Store.»ep5,’,5
REAL ESTATE AGENTS.
JOHN BLACKMAE,
Georgia Home Building, next to Telegraph
Office, Columbus, Ga.,
Reai Estate, Brokerage and Insurance
Agency.
HAND WARRENTS BOUGHT.
Re'er, by permission, to Bilik* of this olty.
[nov3:’76 tf 1
Can’t be made by every agent ev
ery month In the business we tur-
ulsh but these willing to
work can easily earn a dozen dol
lars a day right In their own lo
calities Have no room to explain here. Bus.
iness pleasant and honors vie. Women, and
bovs and gbls do as well as men. We will lur-
nieh a complete Outfit tree. The business
pays better than anything else. We will boar
expensa of starting you. Particulars free.
Write and see, Farmers and mechanics, their
sons end daughters, and all classes in need of
paying work at home, should write to us and
learn all about the work at once. Nowisth
time Don’t delay. AddreBg True a Co e
Augusta, Maine. ja2Gdlm
v? fit <Q> & a a a a
639 <3t <Sj laj fflj 4^ ti: sfc
To (lie VVoi kiugClass,—We are now
prepared to furnish all classes with constant
employment at home, the whole of the time,or
for their spare moments. Business new, light
and prontaDle. Persons of eitner sex easily
earn from 50 cents to $5 per evening, and a
pr"portional sum by devoting their whole time
to the business. Boys and girl* can earn near
ly as much as men. That all who see this no
tice may send their address, and te=t the busi
ness, we make this unparalleled ofiert io such
as are not well satisfied we will send one dot
lar to pay for the trouble of writing. Full par
ticulars samples wi rth several dollars to com
mence work on, and a copy of Home and Fire
side, cne ot the largest and best Illustrated
Publications, all sent free by mall. Reader, if
you want permanent, profitable work, address
GEORGE STINSON A UO ,
ja20 d2m Portland, Maine.
W- F. TICNER. Dentist.
Over Mason’s Dane store,
Randolph. Street, Columbus, Ga.
Ja2lly
Central and Southwestern
Railroads.
«isr
: ; w 11.
- HJ?’ ia itF ‘lrtf
Savannah, Ga., February 4, 1877.
O N AND AFTER SUNDAY, February
4, Passenger Trains on the Central anu
Southwestern Railroads and Branches will
run as lollows:
TRAIN NO. 1, GOING NORTH AND WEST
Leaves Savannah 9:20 a x
Leaves Augusta........................ 9:15 a x
Arrives at Augusta 4:.5fx
Arrives at Macon t>:45 p m
Leaves Macon for Atlanta 9:10 p x
-rrives at Atlanta 6:u- a m
Leave Macon tor Columbus,accommo
dation train 8:00 pm
Arrives at Coiumbus 3:27 a m
Making close connections at Atlanta with
Western and Atlantic Railroad lor all points
North and West.
Columous accommodation leaves Macon for
Columbus dauv oxceot Sunday.
COMING SOUTH AND EAST.
Leaves Atlanta 10:40 p x
Arrives at Macon 5:45 p m
Leaves Macon 7.ou a m
Arrives at Milledgeville 9:44 a m
Ar'ives at Eaton on 11.30 a m
Arrives at Augusta.......... 4 45 p m
Arrives at Savannah 4.uo P M
Leaves Augusta till ax
Leaves Columous, accom. train 9:31 p x
Arrives at Macon..................... *t:5o a m
Making connections at Augusta for the
North and East, and at Savannah with tbe
Atlantic and Gulf Railroad for ail points In
Florida.
TRAIN NO. 2, GOING NORTH AND WEST
Leaves Savannah 7:30 p m
Arrives at Augusta...... 6:00 a m
1 eaves Augusta 8:05 p m
Arrives at .viilledgeville 9:44 a m
Arrives at Eatonton 11 3u a m
Arrives at Macon 8:00 a st
Leaves Alacon for Atlanta 8:40 a u
Arrives at Atlanta 2:16 a u
Leaves Macon lor Albany and Eu-
iaula 8:35 A x
Arrives at Eulaula 4:i3p m
Arrives at Albany Hi pb
Leaves Macon for Columbus 8:30 a m
Arrives at Columbus 1:20 p 11
Trains on this schedule for Macon, Atlanta,
Coiumbus, 1 ulaula aud Albany dally, making
close connection at Atlanta with Western St
Atlantic and Atlanta & Richmond Air Line.
At Eulaula with Montgomery and Eulaula
Railroad; at Columbus with Western Rail
road of Alabama, and Mobile and Girard
Railroad.
Traiu on Blakely Extension Leaves Albany
Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays.
COMING SOUTH AND EAST.
Leaves Atlanta 1:40 p m
Arrives at Macon from Atlanta 0 65 p m
Leaves Albany 10:58 a m
Leaves Eafaula 12:30 p m
Arrives at Macon from Eufaula and
Albany 7:30 P M
Leaves Columbus 2:16 p x
Arrives at iviacon from Columbus.... 6:60 p x
Leaves Macon 7 36 p ji
Arrives at Augusta 6:0" a m
Leaves Augusta 8:06 a m
Arrives at Savannah 7:15 a m
Making connections at Savannah with At-
antic and Gulf Railroad for all points in Flor
ida.
Passengers for Milledgeville and Eatonton
will take train No. 2 from Savannah and train
No. 1 from Macon, which trains connect daily,
except Monday, lor these points.-
WILLIAM ROGERS,
General Supt. Central Railroad, Savannah.
W. G. RAOUL,
Supt. Southwestern Railroad, Maoun,
feb5 tf
WESTERN RAILROAD
OF ALABAMA.
Columbus, Ga., Feb. II, 1877.
Trains Leave Columbus Dailv
AS FOLLO WS :
Southern Mail.
St'JU p. m., arrives at Montgomery. 7:23 p m
Mobile 0:Oo a x
New Orleans 11:80 a x
Nashville 8:0» a m
Louisville .... 3:40 p m
Memphis 8:u p x
Atlanta & Northern
Nlail-
6:50 a. in., arrives at Atlanta 4:?8 p k
Washington ,ll:c6 p x
Baltimore.... 3: 0 a m
New York... 9:30 a x
ALSO BY THIS TRAIN
Arrive at Montgomery 12:21 p x
Selma 8:40 P x
Vicksburg 10:00 a x
TRAINS ARRIVE AT COLUMBUS
From Montgomery and Southwest.. 12: 6p x
“ 7:c0 p m
From Atlanta and Northwest 7:0 p x
£x> ’ This Train, arriving at Columbus at
7:00 P. JI., leaves Atlanta at 11:00 a. m.
E. P. ALEXANDER,
President.
CHARLES PHILLIPS, Agent.
Mobile & Girard R. R.
Columbus, Ga., November 28, 1876.
Double Daily Passenger Train
M AKING close connection at Union
Springs with Montgomery St Euraula
trains to -i.d Irom Montgomery and points
beyond.
This is the only line making night and day
connections a' Montgomery tor toe Northwest.
Through coach with si eping accommoda
tions between Coiumbus and Montgomery:
Mail
Pas8en-
ger and
Freight
Train.
Train.
Leave Columbus
7:35 P x
Arrive at Union Springs.
. 5 30 p x
12:32 A X
“ Troy
. 7:50 P M
3:16 A X
“ Eufaula
0 20 A X
“ Pdontgomery...
. 7:40 P X
0 35 A X
“ Mobile
4:00 P X
“ New Orleans....
,.11:26 A X
9:55 P X
“ Nashville
. 8:00 A X
7:55 P 51
“ Louisville
.. 3:40 P M
3:30 A X
“ Cincinnati
. 8:15 p X
7:25 A X
“ St. Louis
7:33 P X
“ Philadelphia...
. 7:35 A X
S:3;i p x
“ New York
.10:26 A x
0:45 P X
Leave Troy 12:30 a m
Arrive at Union Springs.. 2:22 a x
“ Columbus 7:10 ax
“ Opelika 8:4 ' a x
' “ Atlanta 4:23 p x
“ Macon 7c 6 P x
“ Savannah 11:46 a x
Trains arrive in Montgomery ono hour ear
lier than by any other line.
Passengers ior the Northwest will save
twelve hours’s time by this route.
\V. L- CLARK,
Superintendent.
D. E. WILLIAMS,
General Ticket Agent. nov30 tf
UAN
PURE PERUVIAN and NOVA SCOTIA
LAND PLASTER.
For sale by R. u, 1.%Y,
No 142 Bay street, west of Exchange,
jan3l-lm Savannah, Ga.
A MONTH—Agents wanted every-
where. Business honorable and first
ciass. Particulars sent free. Addresa
j. worth a co.. rl lquis.mo*
