Newspaper Page Text
BY P. H. BREWSTER.
amcs M. Smith, Governor.
N. C. Burnet, Secretary ot State.
J VV. Goldsmith, Comptroller General,
j’ W. Renfroe, Treasurer.
Joel Branham, Librarian.
John T. Brown, Principal Keeper of the
enitentiary. „ , ,
Gustavus J. Orr, State School Comnus
jwner. , . . ,
J. N. Janes, Commissioner ot Agricui-
George Little, State Geologist.
I’JJTE RIDGE CIRCUIT.
Noel B. Knight, Judge.
C. D. Phillips, Solicitor General.
lime of Holding Court.
Chebokee —Eonrlh Monday in 1 chin
*rv ami fourth Monday in July.
Cobb—Second Monday in March and
Dawhon—Third Monday in April and
Becond Monday in September
Fannin —Th ini Monday in Mftj
°Forsyth— First Monday in April and
fourth Monday in August
Giip>ier-—Second Alon lay in Maj' and
October. ~ , . .. ,
Lumpkin—Second Monday in April and
9rst Monday in September.
Milton—Fourth Monday in March and
third Monday in August.
Pickens—Fourth Monday m April and
September. , « r > •
Towns—Monday after fourth Monday in
Mav and OciobiT.
Union—Fourth Monday in Mav and Oc
C M. McClure, Ordinary. Regular court
first Mon lav in each month.
J. W. fl idson, Cl< rk Superior Court.
M. P. Morris, Sheriff.
k\E G. Gramling, Dipaly Sherin.
G. Evans, Treasurer.
Wm. N. Wilson, Tax Receiver.
Joseph G. Dupree, Tax Collector.
Wm W. II 1 wkins. Surveyor.
Wm. Rampley, ( orom-r.
JUSTICE COURT—CANTON DIS.
Joseph E H itson. J. P.
fcj R. F. Daniel, N I*.
■L". G. Daniel, L. C
L. w A. Tcasly, Mavor.
] <U ’Tn I’.-.-rd<-
■ t I y , .1 l». 1» .ito'i, .laim
N. J Garrison, Jabcz GaL, Aidei
,'OUNTY BOARD <»!•' EDUCATION
Do vda. Pn-id.-n'.
“ James W. Hudson, Coini’y School ( oiu
' Prof James U. Vincent, Examiner
Joseph M. McAfee. Allen Keith, Joseph
J Maddox, John R. M<»<>re.
Meetings quarterly, in the court house.
'IIEROKEE TEM’HEiLV ASSOCIA '
James O. Dow la, President.
M B Tuggle, Viee-Piesident.
C. M. McClure, Secretary.
J. W. Attaway, Treasurer.
John D Attawav, Censor Morum.
Prof. .Limes V Vinecut, Association ( or
rspondent. ~. , , .
Regular meeting< every second Satuidij
.n each month, at 10 a ">•
Baptist Church, C inion Gn . fine ot
xrvice fourth Sunday in each month.
' Rev. M B. Tuggle '.’astor.
M E. Church, time of service, preachers
im charge. e i -
Rev. R. R. Johnson, first Snndaj.
Rev. B. E. Ledbetter, second.
Rev. J. M. Hardin, third.
M A SONIC.
Canton Lodge. No 77. meets first and
laird Monday nights in each month.
Joseph M McAfee, W. M.
B E. Ledbetter, Secretary.
Sixes Lodge. No. 282, meets fust and
third Saturdays. 2 p m.
C. S. Ste.de, W M.
O. W. Putman, Secretary.
Grknd Lodgf of Cherokei' County 1 O
G. T.. meet* 3d S Hind*) m I ■ bimua Mu) ,
An«u’»t. and November, at 10 a. tn.
11. .1. O'Shields. C. G. V- I ■
JabexGalt, C. G. R S.
Canton Lodge, No. 119. meets even
Saturday. 8 p in.
B. E. Ledbetter, v. . < • •
A. A. Dowda, Secretary.
Canton Grange No. 225. Canton Ga.
Jabez Galt. Master.
Joseph M. McAfee. Secretary.
Citizens and Friends of the M. &
N. G. Railroad!
At the old Pinckney Young Corner.
Han a large stock of—
HA rs < I »> THING.
CROCKERY M ARE
Which he others du-.-up .1 I'ani. T'ki*
Call > ' ■
demonstrate to you what i- g ang on m s< It
ing geo G e.• » ring "
go<»J« mu»l Ik sold l<»r » ash. andi a»'i <n..)
Thanking all mt tramd* t<>r ti.i:r:a
patronage, and asking a rontiuuan«.i
t»m<, 1 BUT, 'v’lv itspKllukt ; ,
17 * *•'
A Story of 1776.
THE LAST SHOT OF THE MECHANIC HEI’O of
Near Dilworth Corner, at the time of the
Revolution, there stood a quiet cot tag?
somewhat retired from the road, under the
shade of a stout chestnut tree. It was a
quiet cottage, nestling away there in the
corner of the forest road, a dear home in
the wildermss, with sloping roof, walls of
drak gray stone, and a casement hidden
among vines and Howers.
Here, at the time of the Revolution, there
dwelt a young blacksmith, his young wife
and her babe. What cared the blacksmith,
working away in that shadowy nook of
the forest, for war? What cared he tor
the peril of the times, so long as his strong
arm, ringing that hammer on the anvil,
might gain bread tor his wife and chud
Ah, he cared little for war, he took little
note ol the panic that shook the valley,
when, some few mornings before the battle
of Brandywine, while shoeing the horse of
a Tory refugee, he overheard a plot for the
surprise and capture of Washington. ’1 he
American leader was to be lured into the
toils of the To ies ; his person once i i the
British camp, the English general might
send the -‘Traitor Washingtou”.home to be
tried in London.
Now oni blacksmith, working away there
in that dun nook of the forest, witlioiit car
ing for battle or war, had still a sneaking
kindness for this Mister \V a>liington whose
name rang on the lips ot all men. So one
night, bidding bis young wife a hasty good
bye, an I ki-siiu the b.ibc that reposed on
her bosom, smiling as it slept, he hurried
away to the American camp, and told hi*
sto y to Washington.
Il was morning when lie came back. Il
was in the dimness of the autumn d morn
ing, that the blacksmith was plodding his
way along the forest road. Some few paces
ahead there was an used oak, standing o it
into the road —a giim old veteran of the
forest, that ha<l stood the shocks of three
hundred years. Right beyond that oak
was the I,lacks mill’s home.
With this thought warming his heart, c
hurii-d on. He hurried on. thinking of the
calm yi ting face and mild blue ejes ot that
wife, who the night before had stood in the
rottaire door waving him out of sinht with
a be< kmied good-bye—thinking of the baby
that lay smiling as it slept upon her bosom,
he hurried on —he turned the bend of the
wood —he looked u on his Imme.
Ah ! what a sight was theie!
Where the night before be had left a
peaceful cottage, smiling under a green
chestnut tree, in the light of the setting sun,
now was only a heap a black and smoki g
cm' ers, and a burnt and blast <1 tree.
And there stood th • blacksmith gaz ng
upon that wreck ot his hearth-tone —there
he s‘ood with folded arms and a moody
brow ; but m a moment a smile broice over
He saw it all- In the night his home
had taken tire, and. then burned to cinders.
But his wife—his child had escaped ; foi
that he thanked God.
Willi the toil of Ids stout arm, pl'ing
there on the anvil, he would build a fairer
house tor wile and child; fresh flowers
should bloom ovi r the garden walks, and
more lovely vines trail along the casement.
With lips re olve kindling over his face,
the black-milh stood tin re, w ilh a cheerful
light beaming from his large gray eyes,
when a hand ws- la d upon nis shoulder.
He turned and beheld the face ot a heigh
Lt wa; a neighbor but there was an aw
tul agonv stamping those pl dn features —
there was an awful agony flashing from
those dil.it ng eyes—there a dark and teui
bie mvMery speaking from those (bin lips,
that moved but made no soun 1.
At last, forcing the blacksmith along the
l brown graveled walk, now strewn with
cinders, he pointed to the smoking vmbeis
Tin re, thcre--amil ti.at heap of black ai d
smoking ruins, the blicksm th beh id a
dark mass of burnt tlvsh and blackt ned
“Your wife!’ shrieked the farmer, as
his agony found words “ The British they
came in the night; they —’’
And then he spoke that outrage which
■ the Ill's quivers to think <'n, which the
heart palsied to tell—“ Your wife,’’ he
shriek 'd, pointing to tint hideous tiling
amid lit ’ smoking ruins; the Liitish tne>
murdered vmr wife, they tiling her d a I
body in the tlanv-s—they dashed your child
against the hearthstone.”
This wa* the farmer s story
And there, as the ligut i's lirca.»ing d iv
! fell around the spot, there stood the bus
1 bind, the father, gazing upon that mass of
aimed tlwsli and blackened bones—all that
was once bis w ; e.
Do you ask me for the words that trern
!l d from bi* white lips” Do yen ask me
' tor tl;e tin- that blazed tn his eye .'
I cannot tell you. But 1 can tell you
| li-it 'here was a vow going up to heaven
tom the blacksmith's heart; that there
was a clenc’.e.l hand., praised in lhe light
of the bn axing utiv.
Y<>. v<s, o» the first gleam of the autum-
. ■ a'
CAXTOV CHEROKEE COUXTY, GA., WEDXESDAY, SEPTEMBER 27,187(1.
Virtue and Intelligenoe---The Safeguards of Liberty.
long gleam of sunlight streamed over the
peeled skull of that fair young wife—she
that was last night—there was a vow o‘a
maddened heart and anguished brain.
How was that vow kept? Go there to
Brandywine, and where the carnage gath
ers thickest, where the fight is most bloody,
there you may sec a stout form striding on>
lifting a huge hammer into light. here
that hammer falls, it kills —where that
i hammer strikes it crushes! It is the black
smith’s form. And the warcry that he
shouts! Is it a mad cry of vengencc hah
howl, half hurrah? Is it but a fierce yell
breaking up from bis heaving chest ?
Ah, no ! Ah, no!
It is the name of- —Mary ! It is the name
of his young wife !
Oh, Mary—sweetest name of woman
name so soft, so rippling, so musical--name
of the mother of Jesus, made holy by poe
try and religion—how strangely did your
syllables of music ring out from that black
smith’s lips as lie went murdering on l
“M iry 1” he shout®, as he drags the red
coat' d trooper from bis steed ; “Mary . ’ he
shrieks, as I is hammer cia lies down, lay
ing th.'-.t officer in the dust. Look . Ano h
er officer, with a gallant face and form—
another officer, glittering in tinsel, clasps
that blacksmith by the knees and begs for
‘ I have a wife—mercy ! I have a wife
yonder in England—spare me '. ’
The blacksmith, cinzed as he is, trembles;
there is a tear in his eye.
“I would spare you, but there is a form
before u v—the form of my deal wife!
That form has gone before me all day'
She calls on me strike !’’
And the hammer fell, and then rang out
tii'it strange warcry—“Mary!”
At List, when the battle was over, he was
i found by a wagoner, who had at last should
ered a cart-whip in his country's service —
lie was found sit'ing by the roadside, his
head sunken, his leg broken—the life-blood
w Hing from his many wounds.
The wagoner would have carried him
from the ficid, but the stout blacksmith rc-
“You see, neighbor,” he said, in a voice
I Im-ky with death, “I never m Idled w.tli
the Bri ish till they burneii my home, till
they ” He could not speak the out-
rage, but Ills wife, his child, were there be
fore his dying eyes. “And now I've but
live minutes life in nv. E ! like t > give a
shot at the British before 1 die. Dye see
that cherry tree? D'ye think you could
drag a man of my build i p thar Pl.ice
me th ir ; give me a powder horn, three
1 rifle b Ils, an’ a good ritl ■; th al s al 1 1 ask
The wagom r granted his r quest; he lif -
ed him to th -foot of the cherry tree, he
j placed the idle, the bails, the powder-horn
in his grasp.
j Then whipping his horses through the
'narrow pass, from the summit of a neigh
boring height he looked down upon the last
scene of the l>] icksmith’s life.
There lay the stout man, at the foot of
the < berry tree, his head sunk, his broken
leg hanging over the roadside bank. Ihe
blood was streaming from his wounds—he
Suddenly he raised his head—a sound
struck on hi® cars. A p irty of Britisli came
rushing along the narrow road, mad with
carnage, and thirsting for blood. They pur-
I sued a scattered band of continent:! s. An
officer led the way, wiving them on with
| his sword.
The blacksmith loaded his rille; with
i that eye, bright with death, lie took the
That's for Washington,” he shouted as he
sued. The officer lay quivering in the
i roadside dust. On and on came the Brit
ish, nearer and nearer to the cherry three
tlie continentals swept through the pass
I Again the blacksmith loaded—again l.e
• That's for mad Anthony Wayne !” he
shouted, as another officer bit the sod.
' The British now came rushing to the
cherry tree, detern ined to cut down the
wounded man, who, with his face toward
them, like ling as l.e was, dealt death,
I among their ranks. A tair-visaged oihet r
with golden hair waving in the wind led
: them on.
Tim luat ksmith raised his rifle; with
th it hand stiffening in death be took aim
he fired—‘.he young Briton fell with a sud
“An I that,” cried the blacksmith, in a
voice strengthened into a shout, “and that's
His vice wxs gone. The shriek tied on
'his white bps. Hi* head sank—his ride
A single word b’jhle 1 up with his death
-roa Even now methinks I hear that
word boing and trembling ' er<
the r-xtks of Bran lywinc. That w< rd was
A Northern lowa farmer offered a tramp
his daughter an I halfhis farm for three
days' work in rtie harvest field. Tie tramp
wavered a little at first, but the colot of
the girl’s eyes didn't suit, and ho thought
the farm l.i d a l-' tl ■ to > low. sofhe declined
' the proposition, stole a hamc strap and went
‘ on his werkless wf.y.
Oar New York Letter.
New Y’ork, Sept. 29, 1876.
Information from Louisiana leaves no
doubt that the colored vote of that State
will be divided, and that the Democratic
candidates will receive largely over one
third ot it, if not one half. Os course the
Republicans will imimidate the negroes,
but their sad experience under Radical rule
has taught them wisdom and given th in
courage, and lacy will not be driven this
. i year.
This is only a sample of what I hear 'rom
all sections, and I am confident that Hie
color line is really wiped out, and that Til
den and Hendricks will receive every elec
toral vote in the South. Thtre will be no
bloodshed, because the Conservatives are
determined not to permit themselves to be
betrayed into any indiscretion or retaliation.
The Republicans are pushing the nulita
rv politics business to absurd extreme®
The E. D. Morgan Artillery Batlaiiion
met to organize on the night of the 12th, at
i No 10 Union square, Maj. Chas. E. Brehn,
! commanding officer, in -the chair. The bat
j tahion, which is to be composed of fiv.
I companies of 300 men, has now enrolled
about 130 men, who will be uniformed and
parade witli regular field pieces with the
Bovs in Blue. The following officers were
I duly elected : Major, Chas. E. Brehn; Ad
jju nut, Chas. R< itli; Quartermast r, C. Ot
i io Basse ; Commander Co. A, Ralph Arch-
I bold ; Co. B, John Muller; Co. G, Ott •
Naegle. Maj. Brehn, in 1868, commanded
the Grant and Colfax Artillery Battailion.
It was supposed that the inoffensive
torch w sto be the weapon of the cam
paign, and that the service was to haveon
iy one branch, horse marines, or whatever
they might be; but it now appears that we
are to have “regular field pieces,” and live
horses to draw them, too. What stuff!
One can conceive some show of reason in
those who have associated in mili ary life
renewing their ascociations for a peaceful
ourpose of common interest, but this bring
in"' “i'e;l fi-11 pieces” intopoli ics is l.nugb-
I able ( '?hi'l s play, were it not so sadly m
’ dicative of the policy ot the party which
' lives by hate and fomenting strife.
VERMONT AND MAINE.
Democrats have reason to be proud of
Vermont and Maine. A like reduc i m of
| Republican majorities throughout the coun
i try would elect Tilden and Hendricks over
w h el mi ugly.
The- J <e|>ublicans have lost, as compared
with the vote of tour years ago—the last
President al year—in majorities, as follows :
Making a loss of majorities in four States
of 115,000 votes in a total vote of 500,000.
The outlook is certainly not very encour
aging for the Radicals, and the tour States
| who have already voted afford a perfectly
■ fair comparis >n, being now two on each
side, and because in 1872 Arkansasand Al
abn.ua were Republican Stites Th it they
are Southern States, makes the change in
them all the more significant.
So far the campaign stain’s well. It is
only needed that the West, in October, an
swer the voices of ti e South and East i >
| Augi st and Sip'cmber. There is every
' hop> that the r< ponse of the M cst will be
I clei.r enough, and loud enough to settle the
| question for November in advance.
Night Scenes in Xew York.
Before 9 o'clock last night, thousands of
,ocrsons ir. Five Points quarter had gone
i out into the open street to remain until
morning. All along Baxter and the adja
cent streets the inner edg s of the sidewalk
were lin<d with blankets and bedticks;
halt mule < hildren were sleeping so close to
gether that it was to step between
them. Tiny almost laid <>vcr one another
: < ntirelv wiihout coveting, an 1 n man.' c t
sc* with a cell ir door or even the stone fl r
ging alone for ab d In one place eight a
w re asleep on a batch of wooden pive
nient.s’x fiet long by three wi<b‘, and ba
bies sc.iicelv ' x months old, wi fi naked
limbs, lay < xj'ios d to the sky on pieces or
blankets thrown over cellar doors. An
hour later it was cur o is to see the women
and girls sitting on the curb-stone, and
making their toilet lor the night by twist
ing ftp their hair and tinowing a shawl
aroim ; idem. <J:.e after another thty lay
ch wn in the >pen air i>e?i le the c ihireu,
:.n ! ri_ in'il (ss fine iio.sv tlirong ti.at al
most jostled th in in p.tsj-ing, to ail appear
>. ; ■ s droppcd' -imfo; taoly to s’.e< P- Grad
ually tue noi.'C ’.n the streets d.ied out. A
Ix-iy ot young gills who ha I been singing
"T. eSt r Span-i’.e I Banner" and other pa
triotic Mrs. foil i.k'< p one as er ar.oth< r on
a ci "ar loor, and the sounds ot snouting
and laughter ceased.
I’ne mt n pulle<t off their bo r, ts, and while
' ... Is n the side-walks to sleep
on, otk'-rs la; I down on the stones or by
ar and a lew braced themselves up in
the i rm-rs of the do. ts to act as sentinels
over the sh ept rs.
"So they .-he;, every nijLl,” said a policc
iDas, “and we don't disturb them. They
C iU’t '' -2 1 tI»C heat ... i --a— it W Otlld kill
A Western Prapounder.
The clothes he had on went to show that
he was from the far West, and bis voice
h d that springy, nasal twang which only
the pure climate of Colorado can give. He
■ halted once or twice on his way up from
■ the Central depot, ] n) k< d at some machin
ery and salt barrels, and he walked tw ce
■ around the post office without g<>i g in.
The b ot-black who wan'ed to shine him
; up was coldly repulsed, r.nd the fruit d< a
- who wanted to sell nim some cocoanuts
at wholesale figures, was invited to step
■ outside the city limits and get licked. The
boys thought they bad a cbaiacter on the
string tint 1 h? shook one out of his coat,
, and then they <piit following him around.
■ He crossed over to Woodward avenue, and
1 on the wall of a store l.e w the ; ostei
publi'hed by a church which was to give a
festival on St. John’s day. Il toe' him a
long time to make out the bill, and when
he had finished lie entered the store, placed
ins lusty old hat on a show-case, and said
to one of the clems :
“I see somethin’ out here about St John.”
“Y’es, on the pest 1 r,’’ repl cd the cleik.
“Does lie live here 2”
“Why, no—he lived many years ago —
good man —made him a saint.”
“YVas he a square man?” asked the
“1 guess he was.”
“Have any f mily ?”
“I don’t know’.”
“I’d 1 ke to know what his business was,’
continued the old m tn as he placed a bolt
ot c dico on the stool to make a softtr scat.
“I,m very busy thi* morning,” replied the
clerk, “and I’m not vevy well posted on
him, any! ow.”
“Sir !” exclaimed the old man, pointing
his linger over the counter, “1 am an old
man, seeking information. 1 m talking
civil and trying to behave myself I’ve got
a sudden streak on to find out about St.
John, and I’m going to find out all about
him or some one s heels will buak s. m<
One of the c-sh-boys went cut and secur
ed an officer, who put the old man out, but
didn’t discourage him at all. He walked
down to tlie next corner, c llanxl a street
car driver, who bad just been discharged,
and enquired :
“Did you ever hear of St. John ?”
“Yi s, sir, and St. Joe, and St. Thomas
and St. Henry, and a million other saints !’>
growled the driver.
“Was this St. John all r ght, did he pay
cash down, and use a fellow uptare? ’
“I don’t know nor care! I just winh I
knew' the hyena who made the complaint
“Was tiiis St. John proud and stuck up,
or kind r humble, like me?”
“I tell you I don’t want to talk ! ’ shout
ed the driver; “I’m mad, and if you bother
I me much I may hurt you !”
“I'm gem rally peaceful, but I’m going to
i propound some more questions and then
knock your head off!’ grimly n plied the
old man. “Now, how tall was St. John '
“About so high!” said flic driver, bitting
the propoundcr on the chin.
Il wonhl have been a beautiful affair 'fan
1 officer hadn’t broken in upon it and escort
ed the old gent down to the central refrig
erator. He didn’t relish going, lint soon be
came accu-tomed to the siz -of a sxß cell,
and at dusk last night was still calling out:
“Colonel! Colonel! Answer me just one
question about St. John and I’ll shot up!’
[Detroit Free Press.
Hating—Hate no one. It k not worth
while. Y'our life is not long enough t<.
m ike it pay to cherish ill wifi or hard
thoughts toward any one. YV’hat if this
man has cheated you; or that woman, play
ed von false? Wliat if this frie uas forsa
ken you in time of need, or on • having
won vour utmost confidence, your wan . .it
love, has c mcluded th it he pr f is to con
sider and treat you as a strangei ? Let it
nil pass. What difference wifi it make in a
lew years, when y>ugo to the undiscovered
co intiv? Afi w n ore smiles, a f witior
pleasuics, much pain in a little lunger hur
rying and worry through the wo Id some
hasty greeting .indaluupt farewell, and our
pl iv will be “play< d out,” the injured will
be laid away and ere long forgo ten. Is it
worthy to hate each other?
Tbtre is a benevolent man in Boston who
gives twenty-five cents for r> igi< us purpo
ses every time 1c swears. He has already
'worn a steeple on the Pre-bytei ian church,
m 1 is now engaged in “cussing up” a gift
to the Hoine MKs’omo y Society.
It is paid that the Sandwich Islanders be- !
lievetha’' Beelzebub w tlkc l tlie earth in the I
form of a woman. And now and then a ■
man is to be found in this country who be- i
i lives so too, and that he has married tba» !
The person who composed “O, for a thou
sand tongues,” passed most of Lis boyhood i
in molasses Uog-aeads on the wharf.
Why is the opening of the r.m cam, aigu ,
, like a fashionable worn m ? Because there j
VOLUME H.-XUMBER 8
There is on exibition in a stord
on State street, in this city, per*
haps tlie most remarkable couple
in tlie world —a man and woman
who arc giants in stature. Thoy
are Xlr. and Mrs. M. V. Bates, whoev
home is now in Seville, Medina
county, Ohio. They are each sev*
cn feet eleven and three-quarter
■ inches in height, the husband
Yveighing four hundred and seven
-1 ty-cight pounds, while the wife
weighs four hundred and thirteen
pounds. The common-sized visitor,
when placed between them, seek
very much as Gulliver must have
felt when ho fell among the giants.
Mr., or captain Bates, as he is
called, is a finely proportioned man,
of ruddy, healthy looking complex
ion, straight and military looking in
his regimentals. His immense
stature is not so noticeable as that
of his wife, who seems almost
awk vard somehow on account ot
her length, she being actually taller
for a woman than ho is for a man.
They are evidently people who, if
not so wonderfully tall, would bo
They are intelligent, however,
and the lady especially feels th®
awkwardness ot her position as th®
object of the curiosity and open
mouthed wonder of the multitude.
In an interesting' conversation with
our reporter, she showed openly
her dislike ofthe life she is leading,
and her longing to return to her
home in Ohio. Their home, by tho
way, was one built and furnished
especially for them. Tho ceilings
are twelve and a, half feet high,and
no doorway is less than eight and
a half feet high. Os course they
find the hotel accommodations un
suitable to them wherever they go,
as the doorways are so low' and tho
beds so short.
One ol the strangest facts about
their history is that they were the
children of common people. Mrs.
Bates’ father was only five feet four
inches in height, while her mother
was a common-sized woman. Her
brothers and sisters are of no re
markable height. Capt. Bates’ fa
ther was six feet two inches high—
a tall man, but a dwarf, compared
witli his son. Bates is now twen
ty-nine years of age. He is a na
tive of Letcher county, Kentucky.
His wife is a Nova Scotian, twenty
seven years of age. They Yvero
married in London, England, Yvhilo
travelling in that country on exhi
Maggie Mitchell owns a number
of cottages and farms at Long
Branch. The one in which she
dwells Yvas buiß. by Edwin Booth,
and in its large parlor he was mar
ried. It is profusely ornamented
within Yvith paintings, statuary,
. rare and costly volumes, and espe
ciallv Yvith (plaint ami beautiful
articles of Japanese manufacture.
Among her books is one of the three
'copies of Boydell's 171)3 edition ot
Shakspcare —a huge volume, con
taining 100 steel plates,and valued
at several hundred dollars.
The hair of a woman, nearly 90
years of age, yvlio died on Martha s
Vineyard, Yvas wholly yvovcii in
i with false hair which had not been
removed for over 30 years, and was
, held in place by pins. One ar-
I tide of her dress was held together
iby 308 pins, though her bureaus
contained 98 new dress patterns of
all kinds and qualities, some of
them bought 61 years ago, and one
clcgant brocade silk could be t»accd
buck 200 years.
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