Newspaper Page Text
$ 200 ILR ANNUM
professional Carta.
JOHN S. CARROLL,
D e N VIST
COVINGTON, GEORGIA.
Teeth Filled, or New Teeth Inserted,ln
best Style, and on Reasonable Term*
Itllce Reitr of R. King 8 Store. 1 ltt
J A MRS M . LEVY,
Matchmaker & Jeweler,
East side of the Square,
.OVINGTOS, U BORGIA,
.. | le is prepared to Repair Watches, Clocks
Ld Jewelry in the best style. Particular atten
|«n given to repairing Watches injured by in
•mpetent workmen. All work warranted.
DRS. DEARIMG & PRSNCLE
HAVING associated themselves in the Prac
tice of MEDICINE and SURGERY, offer
professional services to the citizens of
• vton county. They have opened nn oth eon
e East side of the Square, (next, door to Sv
bwald's store,) and are prepared to attend to
I calls promptly. They have also a carefully
lected assortment of the
ery Best Medicines,
and will give their personal attention to Com
unding Prescriptions, for Physicians and
h*r*.
«eial attention given to Chronic Diseases
At night Dr. Deakinu will be found at his
lidrnce, and Dr. Pringle at his rooms imme
atelv over the Store of O. 11. San ours & Bro
ay 16, 25tf
To S E P H Y. TINSLEY,
Matchmaker & Jeweler
Is fully prepared to Repair Watches, Clocks
id Jewelry, in the best Style, nt short notice,
II Work Hone at Old Prices, and Warranted.
2d door below the Court House.—6tf
ADDLE AND HARNESS SHOP.
i- A I would respectfully inform the
citizens of Newton, and adjoining
counties, that I have opened a
SADDLE and HARNESS SHOP
Innorth side public square in COVINGTON,
there I am prepared to make to ord> r. Harness
fcddles, ,tc, or Repair the same at short notice
I in the best style.
k t ( JAMES B. BROWN
I 11. T. HEIR Y,
DEM ■s* X S3 TANARUS,
COVINGTON, GEORGIA.
Ly| —, HAS REDUCED HIS PRICES, so
that all who h ive been so unfort u-
nate ns to lose their natural Teeth
Ln have their places supplied by Ait, at v.ry
Lull cost. Teeth Filled at rcas mabl ■ prices,
Bid work faithfully executed, Cliiee north side
■ Squate. —l -’2tf
I fire hsikawe iaim/*
Ittk represent two FIRST CLASS Fire In
m\ surnnee Companies,
fThe Southejn Mutual
Os Athene, Geirgia, and
rh© Georgia Home,
of Columbus, Ge r rgia,
Impsnies which have no Superi “s. and very
Is pquals, in the essentia » of gold manage
Knt. and good faith. We are prepared to take,
Kl invite the usual risks at fair r.-itrfi.
■>[ p ACEi ANDERSON & PACE.
■. P. Andf.bson. Bm2
lEW WARS MOUSE Flßii.
t W. DOUGHTY, (who, tor iwentv-four
Wj , years prior t.o 1865, was actively engage*
■ the Cotton Factorage and Commission bun-
Iss) ami WILBKRF'ORI'K DANIEI, (late of
|e firm of H. F. Bnss-ll k 0..) have entered
■to CoraKTNßnsnip, uii*ler the firm of
I E. W. DOUGHTY, & CO.,
Id offer their services to tin ir'friendsjand the
Biblic as
BOTTOM FACTORS
AND
I Commission Merchants.
■ Their office and storage are in ’he well known
■kl commodious warehouse buildings former \
ftcupied by Bustin <fc Walker, on Mclntosh
Beet.
She charge for selli g Cotton wi lbe ONE
RILAR a Bale for all customers.
■ Patties who have Cotton In store, and desire
Basonnble advances in cash will be accommo-
R. W. DOUGHTY.
WILBER FORCE DANIEL,
■gusto, Oa., September 1, lßt>B,—lm39
ME PREB3IU&! OTTER DRAWER.
KcaJ. M. R. MARKS of Georgia, has pur
■l chased the right for this most valuable
Saving Machine. The best Machine foi
■wing water from an ordinary well, with
and Windlass. Simple, durable, and cheap
Hny child of six years can draw it. It emp
■ itself by tilting, and can be applied to any
■l. We take pleasure in recommending it, to
He has County and State Rights for
■, and any business man can certainly make
out of it. Address
■l3 Maj. M. R. MARKS, Atlanta, Gft
I. C. COURTNEY, & CO.,
F ACTOR S
AND
COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
MBb, Boyce’s Wharf, Charleston, S. C.
COURTNEY, ROBT. MURDOCK, JAB. S. MIIRDOOK
CEO. J. HOWARD,
(IpOCER AND COMMISSION MERChANT
Marietta street,
Georgia.
for all descriptions of Groceries filed
Market Prices.
of Country Produce solicited
make returns promptly.— aniso
J Ceorgia Railroad
■Bakfast and Dinner House,
I At Berzelia. Ga.,
■IRSONS leaving Augusta by the 7 o’clock
■Passenger (Morning) Train, Breakfast at
All persons lAiviug Atlanta by the 5
■ink (Morning) Train, Dine at Berzelia, Per
■ leaving by the Freight Trains can always
■rood meals. Tables always provided with
the market affords,
E. NEBIFUT, Prop’r
TUB GEORGIA ENTERPRISE.
DR. O. S. PII OP H I TT,
Covington Georgia.
Will still continue hi* business, where he intends
keeping on hand a good supply of
Drugs, Medicines, Paints, Oils, Dye Stuffs,
Together with a Lot of
Botanic Nledicines,
l\< eentrated Preparations, Fluid Extracts, Ac.
He is also putting tip his
Liver Medlcinos,
FEMALE TONIC, ANODYNE PAIN KILL IT
Vermifuge, Antl-Bfiieus I’ills,
and n*nny otliev preparations,
Will give prompt attention to nil orilers
PARTItTIL,4R NOTICE.
Hereafter NO MEDICINE WILL BE DELIV
BRED, or SERVICE RENDERED, except for
®"0 -A. E3 XX I'SSffl
You nee not call unless you are prepared to
PAY CASH, for I will not Keep Books.
Oct. 11 1867. O. S. rnOPHITT.
Rail Road Schedules.
Georgia Railroad.
E. W. COLE, General Superintendent.
f if)AY Passenger Thai* (Sundays except oil,) leaves
Augusta nt 7 am; leave Atlanta nt 5 a in; ar
rive nt Augusta at 3.45 p m ; arriveat Atlanta at 6.30
NlonT Passenger Train leaves Augusta at 10
p.m ; leaves Atlanta nt 5.40 p in ; arrive* at Augusta
nt 3 00 a m ; arrives at Atlanta at 7.45 a in.
Passengers for Milledgevllle, Washington and
Athens, Ga., must take the day passenger train from
Augusta and Atlanta, or intermediate points.
Passengers for West Point, Montgomery, Selma,
and intermediate points, can take either train, l'or
Mobile, and New Orleans,-must leave Augusta on
Night Passenger Train, at 10 p. m.
Passengers for Nashville, Corintli, Grand .(unc
tion, Memphis, Louisville, and Bt. Louis, can take
either train and make close connexions.
Through Tickets and baggage cheeked through
to the above places. Sleeping ears on all night pas
senger trains.
MACON A AUGUSTA RAILROAD.
E. W. COLE, Gen’l Snp’t.
Leave Camnk daily at 12.40 r m.: arrive at NO Hedge
ville at 4.30 p. M.: leave Milledgevllle at 0.45 a.m.;
arrive at Camak at 10.15 a. m.
Passengers leaving any point on the Georgia l(.
R hv Dnv Passenger train, w. ill make close eol’nee
tion at Camak for VilledgevlUe, Fatonton, and all
intermediate points «>n t !io Macon Augusta road,
and for Macon. Passengers leaving Milledgevllle
at 6.45 A. M., reach Atlanta and Augusta the same
day.
SOUTH CAROLINA RAILROAD.
11. T. Peaks. Ge neral Sup’t.
Special mail train, going North, leaves Augusta at
3.55 a m. arrives at Kingsville at 11.15 a m ; leaves
Kingsville nt 12.05 p m, arrives at Augusta at 7.2 >
p. m. Tills train is designed especially for through
travel.
The train for Charleston leaves Augusta at R am,
and arrives at Charleston nt3.9 p nt ; leaves Charles
ton at 8 a in, and arrives at Augusta at 5 p m.
Niglit special freight and exnress train leaves Au
gusta (Sundays excepted' at 3.50 )> m, and arrives nt
Charleston at 4.30 a m ; leaves Charleston at 7.30 j.
m, and arrives at Augusta at 0.45 a in.
WESTERN At ATLANTA R. R
Col. E. llulbert. General < 'iir>erinten<lent.
Daily passenger train, except Sunday, leaves At
lanta at 8.15 a in, and arrives at Chattanooga at 1.45
p m ; leaves Chattanooga at 4.40 a in, and arrives at
Atlanta at 2pm.
express passemre** tnun leaves Atlanta at n.45
p m, and arrives at Chattanooga at 4.10 a m : leaves
Chattanooga at 5.50 p m, and arrives at Atlanta at
8.85 a m.
MACON <fc WESTERN RAILROAD.
E. B. Wai.kfr. Gen’l Sup’t.
Day passenger train leaves Mneon at 7.45 a in, and
arrives nt Atlanta at 2 p m ; leaves Atlanta at 8.15
n. and arrives at Macon at 1.30 p in.
Night passenger train leaves Atlanta nt 8.10 p in,
and arrives at Macon at 4.25 a m ; leaves Macon at
8.30 p m, and arrives at Atlanta nt 4.30 a tn.
lintels.
PLANTERS HOTEL.
JGt T BTA. GEORGIA.
furnished and refitted, unsurpassed by
LY any Hotel South, is now open to the Public.
T. S. NICKERSON, Prop’r.
I,nte of Mills nouse, Charleston, and Proprietor of
Nickerson’s Hotel, Columbia, S. C.
United States Hotel.
ATLANTA GEORGIA
WHITAKER A SASSEEN, Proprietors.
Within One Hundred Yards ot the General Pnsscn
ger Depot, corner Alabama and Prior streets,
a m e r i c an mote lT
Alabama street.,
ATLANTA, GEORGIA,
Nearest, house to the Passenger Depet.
W’HITE A WHITLOCK, Pro ictors.
W. D. AYititv, Clerk.
Having re-leased and renovated ie above
Hotel, we are prepared t.o entertain m sis in a
most satisfactory manner. Oharg j fair an.i
moderate. Our efforts will be to .case.
Baggage carried to aud from Depot .roe of charge
FAR E REDUCED
AUGUSTA HOT E.L.
rpillS FIRST CLASS HOTEL is situated nt
A Broad Street, Central to the business por
tion of the City, and convenient to the Tele
graph and Express Offices. The Hou>-e is large
and commodious, and has been renovated and
newly painted from garret to cellar, and the
bedding nearlv all new since the war. The
rooms are large and airy ; clean beds, and the
fare as good as the country affords, and atti n
tive and polite servants
Chassis. —Two Dollars per day.
Single Meals 75 Cents.
Ii ope to merit a liberal share of patronage
ftom the traveling public.
Give ine a trial and judge for vonrselves
S. M. J< >N ES, Prop’r.
WNI. H. GOODRICH ,
SASH, BLINDS, AfJD SCOBS,
On hand, and ma le to Order,
Augusta 386. ii Georgia
COVINGTON. GA., JAN. 22, 1800.
Cross Hint Crown
There i* a cross of heavy weight
For every human life to bear,
There is a chaplet formed of thorns,
For each and every brow to wear ;
Oh ! when the cross of pain and woo
Shull soon forever he laid down,
May we receive, in recoinpen.se
A beautiful and fadeless crown.
A cross of toil and worldly grief,
A burden of suspense and eare,
lias life imposed upon us all
And each its heavy load must bear ;
The clouds may lower overhead.
The bright stars fade beforo our eyes,
Yet Faith shall point us out the path
Where sacrifice, where duty lies.
A crown awaits each faithful heart,
Each earnest, self-denying soul,
That carries cheerfully the cross
To death’s cold unrelenting goal ;
And when the veil shall roll away,
Disclosing heaven’s endless bliss,
The crown of love shall compensate
The cross of such a life as this.
Vacant Places.
How much soever in this life’s mutations
Wc seek our shattered idols to replace,
Not one in all the myriads of the nations
Can ever fill another’s vacant place.
Each has bis own, the smallest and most
humble,
As well as he revered the w ide world through ;
With every death some loves and hopes must
crumble
Which never strive to build themselves anew.
If the fair race of violets should perish
Before another spring time has its birth,
Could all thu costly blooms which florists cherish.
Bring back its April boauty to the earth ?
Not the most gorgeous flower that uncloses
Could give the olden grace to vale and plain
Not even Persia’s garden full of roses
Could ever make the world so fair again.
And so with souls we love; they pass and
leave us ;
Time teaches patience at a bitter cost;
Yet ail the new loves which the years may give
lIS
Fill not tlie heart-place aching fur the lost.
New frieods may come to us with spirits rarer,
Ami kindle once again the tear drowned flame,
But yet v e sigh, ‘"This love is stronger, fairer,
And better, it may be-—hut not the same!’’ j
[Frum “Saturday Night.]
A Pleasant Companion.
UV JOHN n. it II.I.IAHS, M. D.
Perhaps there was never place better tamed
than that of the Sea Breeze Hotel >u tape
Mav. it directly fronts the ocean, and the
surf breaks at the very foot of it. No matter
how hot he lav' may be, there is always a
breeze to be fell there ; the eomoquence is
that, the magnificent balcony Tur ning round
it is a place of general resort for ill the vh'.
tors on the island. It is the acme of lazy en
joyment on a hot Minilnei 's morning to recline
in one of the spacious arm chairs always (o ho
found on the balcony, and listen to the eternal
murmur of the sea, or to watch the bathers
disporting in the waves.
Last summer I was accustomed, immediately
after breakfast, to leave my hotel and stroll
down to this place of general rendezvous, with
my book for my companion, and would pass
several hours in genuine dolce far nienle style.
One August morning I took possession of
m3' favorite chair at the south-eastern angle
of the building, in which situation I could
command, not only a front view of the Atlan
tic ocean, but also see ships sailing up the
Delaware, looking exactly as if they were
gliding over dry land. It was a lovely day,
and n cool breeze from the ocean tempered the
atmosphere deliciously. It was high tide,
and the waves seemed to break at my very
feet. I closed my book, for the attractions of
the scone were even superior to Willie Col
lins’ genius, as displayed in “Tho Moonstone.”
“A lovely scene, this,” said a voice at my
elbow.
I turned round and found an old gray
headed gentleman seated in the chair next to
mine. He possessed one of those intelligent,
amiable faces, so attractive in oldjpeople.
I replied politely to his remark, and we en
tered into conversation together, llis coun
tenance did not helie him, for I found him
well read, and possessed of a superior mind.
“How calm and placid the sea is this morn
ing,” said he, after wo had been conversing
together some half hour.
“Yes, but it is a deceptive monster, and has
been the cause of more human suffering than
anything else in the world,” was my reply.
“I doubt whether the human anguish caused
bv the sea has ever been equaled by anything
on land.”
“How do you mean?” asked my new friend.
“I mean I doubt whether such scenes ns
those depicted in “Foul Play,” or in Falconer
or By ron'B description of a shipwreck, have
ever found their equal on tena firma. It is
true these instance* arc fictitious, but they
have been equalled over and over again by
reality.”
“1 can’t agree with you,” said the old gen
tleman. “I think there are many scenes on
land that fully equal anything that tho »ea
can show. For instance, what can be more
terrible than the feelings 'produced by an
earthquake or by tire? I myself once
met with an adventure on land, which for ter*
ror fully equals anything told of tho oceafi.’
As may be naturally supposed, I begged the
old gentleman to ndute his adventure to me,
which he did in the following words :
*********
In my younger days 1 followed the sea for
n livelihood, having commenced at the bottom
of the ladder, namely : as cabin bov.
I was about twenty-four years of ago when
I was mate of the ship Irene, trading between
New York and Liverpool. It was w hile 1 was
in this hitter town that I received a letter
from home, informing me that my uncle had
died, leaving me an independent fortune, so
that it would not bo necessary for me to go
to sea tiny mefre.
Y'ou may judge that I was very anxious to
get home, and it was with delight that I gave
orders to weigh anchor, and we sailed out of
the Mersey.
The crew wo had on hoard was perhaps one
of the worst that was ever shipped, for we had
been short-handed at Liverpool, and sailors
were in such demand that we had to put up
with any ore we could get. The captain was
quite ill, and scarcely able to leave bis cabin,
so that really the command of the vessel fell
on myself and second unite.
Hugh Kerby, the second mate, was a strange
man. YVhat his early history was, I have no
means of knowing, but, although ho was only
a very moderate sailor, he seemed to be per
fect in everything else. There was no subject,
whether of art, science, or literature, that he
i did not appear to be quite at home in. The
j men called him the walking encyclopaedia, and
the name suited him admirably.
I Kerby, however, was subject to paroxyisms
I of anger, which, in my opinion, bordered on
; insanity. lie was also discontented with his
situation as second mate, and appeared to be
especially badly disposed toward me, actuated,
I :ttn certain, by a feeling of pure envy.
AV'e were ten days before we got out of the
channel, for the wind the whole time was dead
ahead, and day after day we would tee the
coast of France in the morning and the Isle of
Wight in the evening. The constant tacking
broke down the men’s patience, and they be
gan to grumble and throw r out strong hints
that we ought to go into port and wait for a
favorable wind.
This, of course, was not to bo thought of. I
tried to soothe them as well as I could, by tell
ing them that once out of the channel, we
would have watch and watch for the rest of the
voyage.
One day when about half our voyage was
over, the third mate came to me aid informed
me that Kerby had organized a revolt among
the sailors, and they had come to the deter
mination to throw me cvct board, and lie,"Ker
by, was to take command of the ship, lie,
the third mate, had pretended to join in the
pilot, for the put pose of discovering their se>-
crets, that he might warn me, to whom he was
very much attached.
I further learned that it had been decided
that as soon as I appeared on deck Kerby wa*
to walk tip to me, apparently unarmed, for the
purpose of avoiding suspicion ; be was to be
followed by the men, and they were to seize
ine and thtow me overboard.
My mind was immediately made up what to
do. I knew that these men would immediately
return to their duty if they were deprived of
their leader. Fo I loaded two horse pistols
with buck shot, determining that I would try
and disable Kerby, for I did not want to kill
him. looking upon him as scarcely being re
sponsible for his actions, for, as I have before
■aid, I was certain lie was at least partially
insane.
Thus armed, I walked boldly on deck. I
bad no sooner left the cabin than Hugh Kerby,
followed by about two-thirds of the crew, ad
vanced toward me. When lie was about three
or four tcct from ine I drew iny pistols and,
aiming at his arms, fired them both off togeth
er. He ftll to the deck wounded and bleeding.
The men stood aghast.
I ordered the wounded man to bo taken be
low, and then made a speech to the men. I
told them that I knew all about their plot, and
how they had been seduced by the crazy sec
ond mate. I showed them what would have
been the probable end of patch a fehemc. and
bade theta go to their dnty, in which event I
promised to drop the matter foicver.
The men cheered me an.l obeyed, for tlio
fall of their leader had allowed sober second
thought to have its sway.
Wo reached New York without further in
cident. Kerby had nearly recovered from his
wounds, but the Intent insanity which had re
vealed itself in the psroxystnsjof anger to
which I have alluded, now became fully de
veloped. and he was sent to the State Lunatic
Asylum.
So much for the introduction to my story,
which, however, you will find to be intimately
connected with what is to follow.
After settling all my business as mate of the
Irene, I started for my late uncle's residence,
situated near the village of Athens, at the foot
of the Catskill mountains.
I found a large country mansion, delight
fully situated in the midst of the woods, sur
rounded by splendidly kept grounds, and con
taining every comfort that tho heart of man
could dosire.
You can imagine with what delight I looked
on the beautiful place, and realized that it was
tny own. Mine, who had never had five hun
dred dollars all at once that I could call my
own. The house was all ready for habitation,
and everythingjjwent on like clock work.
For several weeks 1 lived in clover. I would
pass my days shooting and fishing ; but by
degrees I begun to grow a little tired of my
loneliness. The fact was that the house was
isolated, and the village three or four miles of!'.
1 began to b>ug for human companionship.
One September day I went fishing, as usual
and found a tall, stately looking gentleman by
tho river side, engaged in tho same sport. Wo
naturally entered into conversation together,
and to my great delight I found him to bo
liiL'ltly intelligent, perfectly at home on every
subject,
He infurmod mo that ho lived in Albany,
but spent every summer and autumn in Ath
ens, for the sake of tho fishing, of which
pursuit he was passionately r ond.
The companionship of this gentleman was a
God-scud to me in my isolated condition, for
a more agrc< able acquaintance 1 had never met
with. At the conclusion of our day s sport,
which passed twice as quickly as usual, ow
ing to the charms of my new friend’s conver
sational powers, I asked him to uccompany
me home to dinner. lie declined nt first, al
leging as an excuse, that it would make it too
late fur him to reach the village. I told him
that I would give him a bed, and that wo
could resume our sport the next day.
After pressing him a good deal, he agreed
to my proposition, and wo started off for my
house togefh*r. During our walk we con
versed on a hundred different topics, and I was
perfectly astonished at the fund of information
he possessed.
At last we reached the house, and I showed
my new friend into my bed-room for the pur
pose of washing his hands, while I went to
another chamber.
We met again in the dining room, and were
soon seated before an excellent dinner; for my
uncle bud been nccustomed to live well, and
the servant carried on the establishment just
the same as during his lifetime.
I should bare told you that my uucle was an
amateur mechanic, and Lis house was full of
specimens of his skill in this respect. Amongst
other things, he had fixed in the dining room
adumb-waiter which descended into tho kitchen
below, so that everything was brought up from
below by this contrivance, thus avoiding the
chance of breaking dishes, &c., by carrying
them by hand up and d**wn stairs.
My new friend was very agreeable during
dinner, and told mo a number of facetious
stories which kept mo in a roar of laughter.—
After tho dinner was over, the servant put a
box of Ilavanna cigars, the port and sherry,
and a bottle of brandy on the table, and with
d-ew.
It wan quite dark by this time, and cold
enough for a fire. The solar lamp however,
lighted up the room, and tho firo burned
brightly.
‘•This is comfortable,” said Mr. Adams, for
such, be told u p, was bis name, and he drew
his chair up to the fire.
lie had not been seated, however, more than
a minute or two, when ho rose up, and walking
to the door, opened if, put his head out a mo
ment, and then returned to his seat again.
“I thought I heard someone call me,” said
lie.
I looked at mv friend, thinking this was a
strange r?mark for him to make.
“Do mu wear Congress boots or Welling
tons?” said he, with the most serious face in
the world.
“O, I wear Congress boots,” snid I, laughing.
‘‘You me wrtong, my friend,” said he. —
“Congress boots arc the enuso of all the evil in
he world.”
1 laughed at this, supposing that it was a
joke.
‘‘lt is not a laughing matter,” said he, in
even a more serious tone. “Do you imagine
that Wellington would have won tho battle of
Waterloo had be not worn Wellington boots ?”
I began to be alarmed at my companion,
looked at him more closely than I had vet done.
I now noticed for the first time that a sombre
fire was gleaming in his eyes.
“Good God !” I thought to myself, “can itbe
possible that the man is a mad man ?”
“During the campaign cf Italy," continued
mv friend, “Napoleon wore high hoots. The
consequence was, he won the battles of Jenn,
Austerlitz, Marengo, Areola, S:\ He wore
only half-boots at Lcipsic, and consequently
half lost the battle, while at Waterloo he de
scended ta Bluchers, and was beaten in conse
quence.”
“Will you excuse me a moment?” said I.
“I wish to give some instructions to one of my
servants.”
“Cerminly, my deer sir,” he returned.—
“Don’t stand on any ceremony with me, you
know.”
I breathed again. lie was evidently mad,
but in all probability ft harmless lunatic, I
deteVmined to leave him, and then send seme
excuse for not returning.
I rose up and walked to the door. It was
locked on the inside and the key removed. I
saw it all then. He had put the key in his
pocket when he had pretended to have heard
someone call him.*
I returned to my seat again in grent alarm,
for he was twice ae strong and powerful as my
self, and I foresaw in the ease of a struggle I
should only be as a child in his hands.
“You have changed your ntind, have you ?”
said ho, with a hideous smile. “Thtt’s right 1
I want to talk to you. Now, respecting Wel
lington boots- I c'hce, in the course of my life,
wore Congress gaiters, and tho consequence
was, I got shot in the arms. It was on board a
ship.
I gated with horror on my companion, and
he deliberately removed a false beard and
whiskers ; and pulling off a wig, revealed to
me tho well known features of Hugh Kerby.
I gave myself up for lost, for I saw no pos
sibility for me to escape.
“I want to tell you a profound secret,” said
tho madman. “I am commissioned by the arch
fiend himself to cut the tbroAts of every one
who wears Congress boots. It was he who
VOL, 4, NO, 10
told me to disguise myself and to come here.
It was lie who showed tno how to escape from
the groat house where I was kept prisoner by
the King of Congress boots, but I escaped so
cunningly—so cunningly 1"
Ho deliberately took from his pocket a ruxor
caso, and opening it, I saw the blades of throe
razors slitter in tho sunlight. It was my own
case. He had removed It from my bedrooi|i.
“I am sorry for you young man,” tho mud
man went on, taking one of the razors from
the case and feeling its edge; “I tun sorry for
you-—but there is no help for it. I niust obey
orders you know. It is a pity that you are a
subject of jtbc King of the Cotigross boots, for
ht-’s iny enemy—my sworn enemy—and the
pin my of my master, the arch fiend himself.'
A sudden thought struck me. Could I carry
it into execution? My life hung on a thread
“You are, of course, light,” said I, “and
you say, mui-t obey orders. It is the fortut*
of wat, and I have no right to complain.”
“I am glad that you take such a philosoph
cal view of the situation-,” said he. “That it
much the wisest plan for you to ndopt.”
“I have one last favor to ask, which, J think,
under the circumstances, ought not to be re
fused, and that is, to be allowed to make my
will. You must know I hare lately come into
a fortune, and, if I leave no will behind me, it
will go into the hands of strangers, thus de
frauding my own relations.”
“Os course, you can make your will, and I
will witness it. It is right and proper that
every man should make his will before he die*.’*
I got up from my seat and walkod over to and
book case at tho other end of the room, under
the pretence of getting some paper. ThU
brought me close to the dumb-waiter whisk
descended to the kitchen, of which I have be J>
fore spoken.
I tore some blank sheets from a MS. boot/
Oa one of them I wrote:
“I am shut up !u the dining room with fl
madman. 110 has my razors in his possession.
Let every man in the house come to mo at once
and force open the door. If help does nos
come in five minutos, I am a dead man.”
I signed my name to this note, and watching
my opportunity, I slipped it on the dumb
waiter, and unhooking it, it glided noiselessly
down to the kitchen below.
Would my ruse be successful ? Would any
of tho servants be in the kitchen ? Would
they'havc courage enough to tace tho danger?
Such were tho questions I asked myself as t
began writing on the other sheet of paper the
form of a will. It was now my only hope to
defer the maniac front proceeding with hie
murderous scheme as long While
writing, I listened attentively for the sound of
approaching footsteps. But the whole house
was as silent as tho tomb.
“Mj God!” I murmured to myself, “all the
servants have retired to bed.”
“It takes you a long time to make your will,
my friend,” said the maniac.
“I have just done,” I replied; “but I should
be much obliged if you would read it over to
see if I liavo drawn it up correctly ?”
“I will do that with pleasure.” said the
maniac, evideutly gratified at tho deference I
paid him.
I handed him the document I had drawn up.
Fortunately for me, my agitation had made me
write it very badly, so that it took him a long
time to decipher. At last lie had read it all
through, and pronounced it m regie. 1 signed
it, and he added his name as witness.
“Now everything is settled,” said he, rising
from his seat with the open razor in his hand.
“I must now carry out my master’s orders.”
With that lie advanced toward me, when at
that moment the door was forced open and
half a dozen pale-faced "men rushed into- the
room.
The madman was so thunderstruck by thie
Buddon interruption that he was seized and
made prisoner without trouble,
very same night messengers from the State*
Lunatic Asylum arrived ut my house. Kerby
had escaped from the asylum, and had been
traced to Athens. 110 had boon seen in my
company, and it was supposed might be in my
house.
The next morning he was removed back to
his old quarters. With respect to myself, thi®
incident cured me of country life. I left for
New York, sold my property, and from that
day to this I have not seen it or Hugh Kerby
again.
Fight With a Wild Man.
Gallipolis, Ohio, is excited over n wild man,
who is reported to haunt the woods near tb&t
city. He goes naked, is covered with hair, ie'
gigantic in height, and “ his eyes start from
their sockets." A carriage, containing a man
and daughter, was attacked by him a few days'
ago. Ho is said to have bounded at the fath
er; catching him in a grip like that of a vice,
and hurling him to the earth, falling on him
and endeavoring to bite and scratch him like
a wild animal. The struggle was long airtf
fearful, rolling and wallowing in the deep mud,
half suffocated, sometimes beneath his adver
sary, whose burning and maniac eyes glared
into his own with murderous and savage in*
tensity. Just as he was about to become «K
hausted front his exertions, the daughter,
taking courage at the imminent danger of her
parent, snatched up a rock, and hurling it at
the bend of her would be nmrdorer, was
tunatc enough to put *n end - to the struggle by
striking him somewhere about the ear. The
creature was not stunned, but feeling unequal
to further exertion, slowly got up and retired
into a neighboring copse that skirted the road.
Anew style of hat is called the “ Grant hat.”
Wc have not seen it. but presume it has a
“brick” in it