Newspaper Page Text
THE SEMI-WEEKLY SUMTER REPUBLICAN;
ESTABLISHED IN 1854,
By CHAB. W. HANCOCK, f
VOL. 18.
The Sumter Republican.
Sbmi-Wbekly, One Veer - - - |4 90
Wkely, One Tear - - - - - 2.00
taTPAYABLE IN ADVANCE *4
All advertisements eminating from public
Sices will be charged for In accordance with
an act passed by the late General Assembly
of Georgia—7s cents per hundred words for
each of the first four insertions, and 35 cents
for each subsequent insertion. Fractional
parts of one hundred are considered one
hundred wordsjeach figure and initial, with
date and signature, is counted as a word.
The cash must accompany the copy of each
advertisement, unless different arrange
ments have been made.
Advertising Rates.
One Square first insertion, - - - -SI.OO
Each subsequent insertion, - - - - 50
J3T"Ten Lines of Minion, type solid con
stitute a square.
All advertisements not contracted for will
be charged above rates.
Advertisements not specifying the length
•f time for which they are to be inserted
will be continued until ordered out and
charged for accordingly.
Advertisementstooccupyflxed places will
be charged 25 per cent, abovo regular rates
Notices in local column inserted for ten
cent per line each insertion.
Charles F. Crisp,
Attorney at Law*
AMERICUS, GA.
decl6tf
B. P HOLLIS
•Attorney at Law*
AMERICUS, GA.
Office, Forsyth Street, in National Bank
building. dec2otf
E. G SIMMONS,
attorney at Law*
AMERICUS GA.,
Office in Hawkins’ building, south side of
'•Lamar Street, in the old office of Fort*
Simmons. janStf
.1. A. ANSLEY,
ATTORNEY AT*LAW
AND SOLICITOR IN EQUITY,
Office on Public Square, Over Gyles'
Clothing Store, Americus, Ga.
After a brief respite I return again to the
practice of law. As in the past it will be
my earnest purpose to represent my clients
faithfully and look to their interests. The
commercial practice will receive close atten
tion and remittances promptly made. The
Equity practice, and cases involving titles of
land and real estate are my favorites. Will
practice in the Courts of Southwest Georgia,
the Supreme Court and the United States
Courts. Thankful to my friends for their
patronage. Fees moderate. novlltf
CARD.
I offer my professional services again to the
good people of Americus. After thirty years’
of medical service, I have found It difficult
to withdraw entirely. Office next door to
Dr. Eldridge’s drugstore, on the Square
Janl7tf R. C. BLACK, M. D.
DR. BACLEY’S
INDIAN VEGETABLE LIVER AND
KIDNEY PILLS.
For sale by ail Druggists in Americus.
Price 25 cents per box. jan26wly
Or. D. P. HOLLOWAY,
DentisT,
America*, ... Georgia
Treats successfully all diseases of the Den
tal organs. Fills teeth by the improved
method, and inserts artificial teeth on the
best material known to the profession.
(K*OFFICE over Davenport and Son’s
Drug Store. marllt
M.H. O'DANIEL. M. D-
Americus, Ga.
Office and Residence, No. 21 Barlow
House.
All calls promptly attended, day or night.
Calls left at Eldridge’s Drug Store.
feb7-3m
Dr. J. F. Stapleton
Offers his professional services to the people
of Americus and surrounding country. He
will practice medicine, surgery, obstetrics,
and another matters pertaining to his pro
fession. 'A successful experience in the past
will guarantee to him success. Calls left at
the residence of Mrs. Mary Jossey, at Dt.
Xldridge's Drug Store, and at the office of
Drs. Head A Black, will receive prompt
attention. janl9-3m
Real Estate for Sale.
(JIQP/I EAST TERMS; 150 YARDS
ipe/OVZ. from business portion of
city; a neat and well arranged four-room
dwelling, with cook room attached; good
servant’s house on place; splendid well of
water; beautiful flower yard; rich garden
spot, and several choice fruit trees in bear
ing.
(Hi O K A CASH FOR 150 ACRES FIVE
WOQyJ miles west of Americus; good
improvements; 100 acres in cultivation; bal
ance original forest ; plenty of water on
place; splendid location for fish pond.
(fcQAA CASH WILL BUY 200 ACRES
of good land three miles from
Smithville; 150 acres cleared; balance well
timbered; good settlement and good water
on place.
HARDY & TOMMEY,
feb24-tf Real Estate Agents
Livery ui Sale Stalks!
/ Besides Horses, we have the WEBSTER
WAGON, LANDIS BUGGIES. J. T.
BARNES’ ROAD CARTS, KENTUCKY
MULES, here and en route. To epitomize.
Horses, Mules, Wagons, Buggies, Carts,
and Harness to suit all tastes and judge
meuts, Fine styles, substantial goods at ex
ceedingly LOW FIGURES. The times con
sidered In all our dealings. Call andseeus.
N. U.4J K. PRINCE,
Cotton Ave. and West End Jefferson St
jan3tf Americus, Ga.
DARBYS
PROPHYLACTIC
FLUID.
A Household Article for Universal
Family Use.
For Scarlet and
I Eructate |3£2£T£
I
WtMMMBtBBtBKM Pox, Measles, and
all Contagious Diseases. Persons waiting on
the Sick should use it freely. Scarlet Fever has
never been known to spread where the Fluid was
used. Yellow Fever has been cured with it after
black vomit had take a place. The worst
cases of Diphtheria yield to it.
Fevered and Sick Per- SMALL-POX
eons refreshed and and
Bed Sores prevent- PITTING of Small
ed by bathing with p ox PREVENTED
Darbys Fluid. . u r c.
Impure Air made A member of my Am
harmless and purified. !*V " *>
For Sore Throat it is a tywH-PO*. I t.ised the
sure cure. *s“*!**
Contagion destroyed. ”?* sellno5 ellno . us .
For Frosted Feet, P’“= d - and *£•
Chilblains, Piles, 'he house again in three
Chafings, etc. "“ ks ; 2 th "*
Rheumatism cured. ,la<l “■ ~ J,- ' v ,' S***"
Soft White Complex- ihsotbKuladelphis.
ions secured by its use. HHHHHHVHVH
Ship Fever prevented. ■
T B. P e U a r n ir rt h heTeta: I
it can't be surpassed. ■ , - ■
Catarrh relieved and I * rSVOUtQCL H
cured.
Erysipelas cured.
The Physicians here
ni.' 1 use Darb y s Fluid
Dysentery cut ed. successfully in the treat-
Wounds healed rapidly, ment of Diphtheria.
A CU fITIH UT A • I A. Stollenwekck,
An Antidote for Animal Greensboro, Ala.
or Vegetable Poisons, *
Stings, etc. Tetter dried up.
I used the Fluid during Cholera prevented,
our present affliction with Ulcers purified and
Soarlet Fever with de- healed,
cided advantage. It is In cases of Death it
indispensable to the sick- should be used about
room. -Wm. F. Sand- the corpse —it will
ford, Eyrie Ala. prevent any unpleas-
MHnbQUMMrgB ant smell.
The eminent Phy-
I Scarlet Fever I feYTTi™
I „ , ■ York, says: “1 am
Cured ■ convinced Prof. Darbys
I Prophylactic Fluid is a !
valuable disinfectant." I
Vanderbilt University, Nashville, Term.
I testify to the most excellent qualities of Prof
Darbys Prophylactic Fluid. Asa disinfectant and
detergent it is both theoretically and practically
superior to any preparation with which I am ac
quainted.—N. T. Lupton, Prof. Chemistry.
Darbys Fluid is Recommended by
Hon. Alexander H. Stephens, of Georgia •
Rev. Chas. I. Deems, D.D., Church of the
Strangers, N. Y.;
Jos. LbContr,Columbia, Prof..University,S.C.
£ cv - A. J. Battle, Prof., Mercer University:
Rev. Geo. F. Pierce, Bishop M. E. Church.
INDISPENSABLE TO EVERY HOME.
Perfectly harmless. Used internally or
externally for Man or Beast.
The Fluid has been thoroughly tested, and we
have abundant evidence that it has done everything
here claimed. For fuller information get of your
Druggist a pamphlet or send to the proprietors,
J. If. ZEI LIN A CO.,
Manufacturing Chemists, PHILADELPHIA.
TUTTS
PILLS
A DISORDERED LIVER
IS THE BANE
of the present generation. It ia for the
Cure of this disease and its attendants.
SICK-HEAD ACHE, BILIOUSNESS,
frfcPBIA, CONSTIPATION, PILES, etc., thai
Tun s TILLS have gained a w.orld-wide
reputation. Ho Remedy has ever been
discovered that acta eq gbntly on the
digestive organa, giving them vigor to aa
aimiiate food. Asa natural result, the
jServous Syßtein is Braced, the Musolea
are Developed, and the Body Bobust,
OhlUs and Power.
B. RIVAL, a Planter at Bayou Sara, La., aaya >
My plantation ia In a malarial district. For
••▼oral years I could not mako half a crop on
account of bilious diseases and chills. I was
nearly discouraged when I began tbe use of
TUTT’S PILLS. The result was marvelous:
my laborers soon became hearty and robust,
amd I have had no further trouble.
They relieve (he engorged Liver, cleanse
the Blood from poisonous humor*, and
cause the bowel* to act naturally, with
out which wo one can feel well.
Try this remedy fUlrly, and you will gala
Blood fsfandaJkmmTLive?
Price, Ceuta. Office, 35 Murray H.T.
TUTT’S HAIR DYE.
Gray Hair or WiriSKKRS changed to a Glossy
Black by a single application of this Dye. It
imparts a natural color, and acts instantaneously.
Sold by Druggists, or sent by express on receipt
Of One Dollar.
Office, 88 Murray Street, New York.
(Hr. TUTT’S MANUAL of
Information and Useful JSeeoipto I
uAU be mailed FIEE on application ./
flOSHlJtltjj
What the great restorative, Hostetter's
Stomach Bitters, will do, must he gathered
from what it lias done. It has effected rad
ical cures In thousands of cases of dyspep
sia, bilious disorders, intermittent fever,
nervous affectations, general debility, con
stipation, sick headache, mental despon
dency, and the peculiar complaints and dis
abilities to which the ieeble are so subject.
For sale by all Druggists and Dealers
generally.
FOUTZ’S
HORSE and cattle powders
No Hints win die of Cano. Bon or Lus. F*.
rss. If Foutit Powder. tre med In time.
Foutet PowdditwHtodreßndpreventHooCiTone**.
Foutz't Ponders fill prevent Oapkh is Fowl*.
Fout/.'H Powdeit will Jnerc.w. Uir quantity of milk
and erenra twenty per cent., and make the butter Gria
tod tweet.
Fonta't Powdert will rare orprevent time— nur
PntAK to which Hone. and Cattle are tubiect
Sows’* Pownan# will tv SatiepiOTios.
•old everywhere.
DAVIS r. TOVTt. Proprietor,
BALTIMORE. M.
INDEPENDENT IN POLITICS, AND DEVOTED TO NEWS, LITERATURE, SCIENCE AND GENERAL PROGRESS.
AMERICUS, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 4, 1883.
VOY.t&Y.
THE RIVER OF TIME.
BY MBS. JULB W. THOMPSON.
As natural rivers ever roll
Seaward, defying man’s control,
So the River of Time is sweeping,
Always its true channel keeping,
Out into vast eternity!
Millions of mortals are now afloat,
Each engrossed with his own life-boat,
Watching the wind as it whirls and shifts,
Caring little if a brother drifts
Or sinks into obscurity.
Ah! ’ tis a picture grand, sublime ! .
The ever changeful scenes of time;
Sunlight and shades of ebon hue,
The magic waves toss up to view,
With swift untiring motion;
A noble deed we scarce commend
Before a crime our bosoms rend,
Joy and sorrow move side by side,
Youth and old age go down the tide,
All nearing the same ocean.
Her silvery oar innocence plies,
With laughter in her bright blue eyes,
She little dreams her loviug faith
In all mankind is doomed to death;
The bird of peace sings in her heart;
Near by grim vice bears slowly down,
His savage face wears a dark frown,
His shoulders bear a load of sin,
And yet he hurls fresh victims in
To temptation with jaws apart!
Just here fair fate busily weaves
A polished crown of laurel leaves
To place upon a waiting brow,
Unknown ere this—a hero now,
Lauded, he passes up to fame;
While there an old man trembling sits
Deep sighs escape his quiv’ring lips,
Lost the honors that long have shed
A lustre ’round his whitening head,
Friends with one accord have fled
And left him thus, bow’d down in shame.
And now we hear a liappy shout
Above the rush of waves ring out,
Echo catches the refrain,
And repeats it once again,
Somebody’s won a victory!
And now a wail of deep despair
Floats out upon the eveuing air,
And dies away along the shore;
Somebody’s broken life’s last oar
And lost in its fickle lott’ry.
Yonder, a son of wealth untold,
Rests on an oar of burnished gold;
Friendship bestows unneeded gifts;
The cup of love he idly lifts,
With purple wine o’erflows its brim;
While here a pale, thin face we see,
Mapped by the hands of poverty;
Struggling, unaided, dumb with pain,
He toils a foothold to obtain,
And even that is grudged to him.
Ah! ’tis a picture grand, sublime,
Spread out upon this river Time!
The ever shifting scenes of life.
Sunlight and shadow, peace and strife,
In one great mystery involved;
And as we glide the stream adown,
We find scattered our feet around
Poor dead loves, by dear hands slayed,
Judas kisses and trusts betrayed,
Hopes tliat have like snow dissolved.
Why must innocence suffer so?
Why unpunished the guilty go?
Why do the rabble ever cry
“Give us the Christ to crucify.
And let the hardened wretch go free?”
Ah! broken chains all ’round us lie
To be relinked in the by-and-by;
Thy hand will trace, oh, pitying Lord,
The one gold thread in each life cord
And Thou will clear the mystery.
Grant us, oh God, the will and power
To stamp upon each gliding hour
True deeds of love that will be borne,
Like fragrant buds, up to Thy throne,
There to mature is perfect bloom;
Help us to tear even to-day.
The driftwood and seaweed away
And grasp the pearl beneath the wave—
The priceless pearl, our spirits crave
To bear with us beyond the tomb.
When an erring brother’s barque,
In nearing danger in the dark.
Lord give us strength to go before
And point the rocks along the shore,
Cov’ring his sin with charity;
When our cold hands have feebly grown,
Oh, Father, clasp them in Thine own.
As we near the mouth of the tide,
Let mercy lean toward our side;
In love and pity safely guide
Our souls into eternity.
—Arkansaw Traveler.
A VISIT TO MISS NILSSON’S
CAR.
A Charming Evening with the
Famous Singer.
By Annie Marie Barnes in Rome, Ga., Cour
ier.]
Promptly at 3 o’clock p. m., our car
riage leaves Walnut Hills, Cincinnati,
our destination being the Grand Ho
tel, and our intention to call upon Mile.
Christine Nilsson, who has most cor
dially invited my young friend Nor
ma H. and your correspondent to pass
an hour in her palace car.
Twenty minntes later wo are in the
luxurious reception room at the Grand,
have Bent up our cards on the shining
silver salver presented by the grinning
factotum who answers our ring, and
await, the least bit neivously it must
be confessed, the summons to the pri
vate apartments of the famous queen
of song.
In a few moments onr Buttons re
turned, still bowing and smiling. We
secretly wonder if he hasn’t been prac
ticing all the way down stairs.
“The madame says you are to walk
right up,” he announces; and “to walk
right up,” we forthwith proceeded to
do.
Reaching the second floor, we pass
some line distance to the right, when
a magnificent wave of Button’s hand
—as magnificent as any Julius Ceasar
could ever have gotten out when in all
his grandeur before the Roman forum
—indicated the door ot “the Madame’s
apartment,” which we approach as rev
erently as pilgrims when nearing somo
sacred shrine.
Our gentle, somewhat timid, knock
is answered by a low, musical “come
in,” and entering after a moment’s hes
itation, the first object that greets our
vision is tall, graceful figure in soft,
clinging folds of black, which rises at
once to meet us from the luxurious
depths, of a Jautuel drawn in front of
an open fire.
With that rare cordiality, which
lends such a charm to her manner on
all occasions, she hastens .forward to
greet us. Having met her on a former
occasion I have only my young friend
Norma to introduce, whoso timidity
takes wing at once. I note with pleas
ure, as the great singer flasps her hand
most warmly.
Directly all stiffness and restraint
have vanished, and we are chatting as
gaily*as though we were the nearest of
friends met after a long absence.
Excusing herself after a few mo
ments, Mile. Nilsson retires, followed
by her maid, in order to prepare for
her drive with ns.
As the door of her ures.-ing room
closes behind her, we ventpre a glanci
around the luxurious apartment which
for nearly a week has been the “abid
ing place” of her whose divine pres
ence would fcnd a grace to the home
liest hut of logs.
Exquisite in its every appointment,it
is a fitting nest for the song bird.
Books, pictures, music, flowers—ah!
the flowers, they are everywhere—in
vases, on the mantle, in baskets, on
tbe table—even the chairs, and win
dow ledges are covered with the floral
wealth—crosses, wreaths, hearts, an
chors, mementoes, we know, of last
night’s triumph. On a beautiful sil
ver epergne, near the centre of the ta
ble at our elbow is a delicious collec
tion of English violets and tube-roses
in the form of a horse-shoe, pending
from which is the cabalistic “gluck”
in immortelles.
We are bending above this, express
ing our admiration, when Miss Nilsson
returns to us, looking exceedingly
handsome in her beautiful fitting
coachman’s cloak, with its broad fur
collar and cuffs.
“I see you are admiriugmy flowers,”
she says. “Permit me to offer you a
few,” and taking a basket laden with
the beautiful blossoms, from a stand
near at hand, she holds it towards us
with one of her sweet smiles.
Bowing our thanks, we each select a
small cluster, when I ask:
“You are fond of flowers, Miss Nils
son?”
“Ah! fonder of them than of almost
anything else,” passing her delicately
gloved fingers caressingly over the pure
petals of a beautiful ealla as she an
swers;
“I need not ask your favorite,” Isay
again, I think I know. The Eng
lish violet. I nave noticed that you
wear a small cluster of these flowers
on almost every occasion.”
“Ah! the English violet,” she says,
her fine eyes growing radiant and her
beautiful voice tender with something
more than a mere passing emotion.
“Yes, they are most lovely and pure,
and bring with them many tender
memories it is an exquisite pleasure to
recall.”
We do not question farther. We
know that she is thinking of the “bon
nie lands across the seas where the
most, beautiful blossoms grow.”
As wo make our way down to the
carriage she chats with us as gay ly as a
school girl home for her first vacation.
We glance at her in much surprise.
We secretly wonder if this can be the
stately and courted Mile. Nilsson who
tonly last night had the whole art world
of Cincinnati at her feet. Doubtless
she notices a little of the awe that has
taken possession of ns, and guesses our
thoughts at once, for turhihg towards
us, with a look and a smile, which
makes us slaves forever, she says:
“No long faces—no stiff-backed eti
quette allowed, bear in mind. We
all children offfor a holiday, now, re
member.” We laugh amusedly at the
delicious little mour she makes, and
actually havo the courage to grasp,
without restraint, the hand extended
toeach, and thus hand in hand like
children indeed, we go on down the
steps.
It is no longer Miss Nilsson, the
courted, flattered prima donna, the
world-renowned singer, before whom
kings have bowed, princes bent in
homage, and the whole arc world of
two continents gone mad; but Chris
tine Nillson, the pure, gentle, woman
ly woman, about whom still lingers the
air of that humble Wexio home,whose
grand, beautiful soul, with all the
world’s homage, yet remains unspot
ted, whose great heart, in its mighty
wealth of love and tenderness, has yet
a place for the most insignificant one
among us.
Arriving at the depot we descend
from the carriage, and, in company
with her business manager, who meets
us at this point, we make our way to
wards the handsome palace car in
which Mme. Nilsson aud her troupe
have traveled flora San Franoisco to
New Orleans and from Now Orleans to
Cincinnati, and will continue to use
until the end of the present season,
which is the last of April I believe.
On entering we can scarcely repress
our exclamations of surprise and de
light, for tho car is a perfect model of
beauty and workmanship, tho very
handsomest one we have ever seen
The interior is of elegant mahogany,
most exquisitely carved and artistical
ly finished. The sides are almost
entirely of solid plate glass, some of
the designs beautiful in the extreme.
At the end through which we firsi
enter are the sleeping berths, elegant
and luxurious in every appointment—
tho one designed for the great sirger
herself, being a perfect marvel of beau
ty and comfort. V
In the center of the car is the parlor,
or as it is more familiarly termed, “the
drawing room.” necessarily much
smaller than the average apartment of
this kind, bnt so exquisitely and luxu
riously furnished as' to make this an
Attraction rather than a- defect. The
carpet is of the softest and finest vel
vet, into which our footsteps sink with
a gentle elasticity that is delicious.
Sofas, ottomans, rockers, easy chairs of
every description are scattered about.
Books, pictures, flowers also, and on
one side a magnificent Steinway Grand,
a present to Mme. Nilsson trom her
manager, Mr. Henry E. Abbey.
“O, what a lovely little bird!” ex
claims Norma, as she suddenly springs
forward for a nearer view of what ap
pears to be a small dark-colored cana
ry in a toy-like cage hanging just over
the piano. “I do believe ho is asleep.
“Birdie! birdie!”
An amused smile plays for one mo
ment across Madame Nillsson’s fine
lips, as approaching Norma, she lavs
her hand quickly upon her shoulder,
while she says:
“I don’t think he will hear you,Miss
Norma, he is a naughter bird, whoTias
his 6wu way about everything and
will not sing only when made to.
Wait a moment until I give him a
winding up!”
I laughed amusedly at Norma’s
rather blank expression of countenance
as the fact is thus disclosed to her that
the songster is—but a pretty toy which
sings only—when wound up.
“1 should think you would prefer a
live bird, Mme. Nilsson,” she says a
moment later, when the laugh at her
expense has sudsided. “I have three
canaries and two mocking birds. Let
me send you one.”
A rare smile lights into real beauty
the somewhat heavy lines of Miss Nils
son’s fine features, as pressing the young
girl’s hand warmly, she says:
“Thanks, many thanks. You are
most kind. But I cannot bear to see
the pretty creatures confined. It seems
so cruel to deprive them of their free
dom.”
“Do not reproach me,” Norma en
treats. “1 feel the truth of what you
say. Still I have been used to seeing
them confined all my life. I feel temp
ted now to turn every one of mine
loose the very moment, I get home, but
then,” after a moment’s reflection,
“what would the poor little things do,
and it so cold?”
“Fall a prey to the ravenous molars
of some prowling cat or the sling-shot
of some wicked small boy,” I return.
“No, no, Norma, keep your birds. Miss
Nilsson is not reproaching you. She
is only giving you her own views on
the subject ”
“Yes, that is all, Miss Norma,” she
says reassuringly. “There, brighten
up. lam sure your little birdies are
fully content by this time in their warm,
sung quarters.”
“Miss Nilsson,” I venture after a tew
moment’s pause, “will you not sing
something for us?” and the next mo
ment stand aghast at my own audac
ity.
But she receives tho request with the
same rare graeiousness that has mark
ed her intercourse with us from the be
ginning.
Motioning to me to help her remove
her heavy cloak, she next takes oIF her
hat, brushing the soft rings of hair
from off her forehead with one hand.
Then walking to the piano, she seats
herself upou the stool, and dropping
her white, supple fingers upon the keys
turns to question:
“What shall I sing?”
“Franz Schubert’s Serenade,” I an
swer promptly.
“Ah! one of my favorites,” she re
turns, and then runs her fingers over
tbe keys in a most beautifully impro
vised prelude. The next moment the
delicious notes of this most exquisite
of airs break upon our listening ears,
sung as only Nilsson can sing it, di
vinely.
“Now, Miss, Norma,' 1 she turns to
question as she finishes, “what may I
sing for yon?”
“My Old Kentucky Home, Good
Night,” she answers with the least
possible hestitation. “That is, if you
do not mind, Miss Nilsson. It is such
a rude, old-fashioned thing.”
“Certainly Ido not mind” is the
gracious reply, “I am singing, as I al
ways try to sing, to please my au
dience, remember.”
“Which is not a very critical ono in
this instance,” I venture. “One mo
ment please, Miss Nilsson, beg pardon
for the interruption. I see by the Bos
ton papers that you have been very
severely criticised for singing there
such “trash”—so they term it—as the
Suwaneo River. I suppose it wasn’t
just up to their standard of culchaw.”
“No, I suppose not,” she answers
laughingly. “However, it made no
difference to me. I sing it because I
like it. Though a rude and’ simple
ballad, it can be sung with much boul
and feeling. It gives pleasure, too, to
the people, and it is to the people I
love to sing, and not to the critics or
the music teachers.”
Without further words, she turns to
the piano and sings for us with such
wonderful pathos and expression, that
it brings tears to our eyes at once, the
rude and familiar strains of the “Old
Kentucky Home.”
“Hard Times comes a knocking at my little
cabin door.
Then my Old Kentucky Home, good-night.”
Ah! wonderful woman—divine sing
er! It it is not strange that you pos
sess the [lower to touch and sway the
hearts of the people at will, since with
in yonr own heart lie.thechords of ten
derness and feeling that pulsate in uni
son with their’s.
“I shall not give my audience the
privilege of selecting the next piece,”
she says, with one of her winning
smiles, “I shall do that myself. and
then, as it is getting late, close the
performance.”
She runs her fingers once more over
the keys, and the smile has scarcely
died upon her lips ere she begins the
exquisitely tender strains of the Ave
Maria. Ah! how she sings it, with a
pathos and a sweetness that thrills us
through and through. Outside the
winter sun is fast going down behind a
bank of glowing clouds. Already the
“purply shadows, flecked with gold”
have settled down upon the distant
spires and house-tops; but within the
car some stray beams still linger, peep
ing with tender, radiant eyes‘into the
remotest corners, resting like a gentle
benediction upon the bowed head of the
singer, whose features seem tairly aglow
with a soul and a beauty that are di
vine.
How the memory of this hour will
linger with ns, as the sunbeams linger
with such caressing brightness across
the soft waves of hair—how the twi
light hour will ever afterwards recall
her. How the notes of the Ave Maria
will forever hold for us a hallowed
place in memory as associated with her.
How in after years it will all come
back to us a beautiful dream we would
fain recall.
“Farewell! a word that must he, and hath'
been,
A sound that makes us linger—yet—fare
well!”
Remains Unsettled.
A well-known minister exchanged
pulpits with au interior preacher the
other day, and the town preacher de
clares that while he is willing to strug
gle for the suppression of sin, he is not
willing to distribute gospel facts to a
congregation of such polemic inclina
tion. During the sermon a man whose
most prominent feature of wardrobe
was a checked shirt with wooden but
tons arose aud said:
“Cap’n, wusli you’d reshuck that
last pint.”
“I don’t understand you,” replied
the preacher.
“I ax you let out your back band a
little on that last statement.”
“My friend, I am totally in the dark
as to yonr meaning.
“You said that Enoch went to heaven
in a chariot of fire. Strip a little more
of the bark off and let me understand
the timber better. A chariot is a sort
of a wagon, ain’t it?”
“Yes,” replied the peacher.
“Was it a two lrorse or a single horse
wagon?”
“I can’t tell.”
“Wall, you must tell. Some time
ago a fellow driv a wagon over one ot
my hogs and killed him, and when I
fotch up a suit, I couldn’t tell whether
it was a one or two horse wagon, and
consequently I didn’t rekiver damages.
Since then I’so been verycarefnl. Sol
want this chariot business settled right
here.”
“My poor friend—”
“I know I’m poor, without enough
corn to run me through the next crap,
but settle the wagin questin.”
“I say that tho chariot makes no
difference, so far as onr interest in
heaven is concerned. All we need to
know about it is that it ascended up to
the home prepared for the bliss of the
servants of the Lord.”
“That talk sounds well euongh,pard
ner, but when a man comes into this
neighborhood with pints, he’s got to
specify. If you say the wagin had two
horses, we’ll accept your statement and
let your business go on, or it will be
the same if you say that the vehicle
only bad one hoss. All we want to
know is that the thing has been settled.
Can you square the difikllity, Cap’n.”
“I cannot.”
“Then come from behind the box.”
The minister obeyed and the question
remains unsettled. —Arkansaw Trav
eler.
Brotherly Love.
Texas Siftings. *
Yesterday, about 1 o’clock, a hoy of
twelve summers went up Austin ave
nue at such a rate of speed that every
body who saw him was fully persuaded
he was going for a doctor, particularly
as there was a scared expression on the
boy’s face. A kindhearted man caught
the flying boj by the arm, and asked
him:
“Sonny, is there anybody very sick
at your house?”
“No; but there will be if you don’t
turn me loose.”
“Who is going to be sick?”
“Well, it’s my brother Bill. He
will be a remains before nightifldon’t
get there right away. We have oysters
and things for dinner, and if I aiu’t
there to get my share he will try to eat
for us both, and he will founder him
self, sure. Please let me go, so that I
can save my little brother’s life.”
That slight cold you think so little
of may prove the forerunner of a
complaint that may be fatal. Avoid
this result by taking Ayer’s Cherry
Pectoral, the best of known remedies
for colds, coughs, catarrhs, bronchitis,
incipient consumption, and all other
throat and lung diseases.
“Dear Mr, Jones,” said a learned
woman, ‘you remind me of a barometer
that is filled with nothing in the upper
story.’ ‘Divine Amelia Brown,’ said
he, ‘you occupy my upperstory.’—2V.
O Picayune.
Thousands of children die under
the age of five years. Why? Phy
sicians attribute it to various causes,
and have a vocabulary of infantile
diseases too numerous to mention.
Worms! Worms! Shriner’s Indian
Vermifuge will kill them and restore
the child.
FOUR DOLLARS PER ANNUM.
NO. 55.
The Freckled-Face Girl.
HOW SUE ENTERTAINED A VISITOR WHILE
UER MA WAS DRUSStNU.
“Ma’s up stairs changing her dress,”
said the treckled-face little girl, tying
her doll’s bonnet-strings Brnd casting
her eye about for a tidy large enough
to serve as a shawl for that dftuble
jointed young person.
“O, your mother needn’t dreisni kir
me,” replied the female agenf'of die
missionary society, taking a self-satis
fied view of herself in the mirror. “Ran
up aud tell her to come down just as
she is in her every day clothes and not
stand on ceremony.”
• “O, bnt she hasn’t got on her every
day clothes. Ma was all dressed up in
her new brown silk, ’cause she expect
ed Miss Diamond to-day. Miss Dia
mond always comes over here to show
off her nice things and ma don’t mean
to get left. When ma saw you com
ing she said ‘The Dickens!’ andlguess
she was mad about something. Ma
said if you saw her new dress she’d
have to hear all about the poor heathen
who don’t have silk, and yon’d ask her
for more money to buy hymn books to
send ’ems. Say, do the nigger ladies
use hymn book leaves to do their hair
up on and make it frizzy? Ma says
she guesses that all the good the books
do ’em, if they ever get any books. I
wish my doll was a heathen.”
“ Why you wicked little girl, what
do you want of a heathen doll?” in
quired the missionary lady, taking a
mental inventory of the new things in
the parlor to get material for a homily
on worldly extravagance.
“So folks would send her lots of nice
things to wear and feel sorry to have
her going about naked. Then she”
have hair to frizz and I want a doll
with turly hair and eyes that roll up
like Deacon Sliderback’s when he says
amen on Sunday. I ain’t a wicked
girl, cither, ’cause Uncle Dick—you
know Uncle Dick, he’s been ont West
and swears awful and smokes in the
house—he says I’m a holy terror and
he hopes I’ll be an angel pretty soon.
Ma’ll be down in a minute, so yon
needn’t take your cloak off. She said
she’d box my ears if I asked yon to.
Ma’s putting on that old dress she had
last year, 'cause she said she didn’t
want you to think she was able to give
much this time and she needed anew
mull worse than the queen of the can
non ball islands needed religion. Uncle
Dick says you ougkter to go to the
islands, ’dause you’d be safe there and
the natifs’d be sorry they was such
sinners anybody would send you to ’em.
He says he never seen a heathen hungry
enough to eat you, ’less ’twas a blind
one, and you’d set a blind pagan’s
teeth on edge so he’d never hanker alter
any more missionary. Uncle Dick’s
awful funny and makes pa and ma die
laughing sometimes.”
“Your Uncle Richard is a bad, de
praved wretch, and ought to have re
mained out West, where his style is
appreciated. He sets a horrid example
for little girls like you.”
“Oh, I think he’s nice. He showed
me how to slide down the bannisters,
and he’s teaching me to whistle when
ma ain’t round. That’s a pretty cloak
you’ve got, ain’t it? Do you buy all
your good clothes with missionary
money? Ma says yon do.”
J ust then tbe freckle-faced little girls
ma came into the parlor and kissed the
missionary lady on the cheek and said
she was delighted to see her and they
proceeded to have a real sociable chat.
The little girl’s ma can’t understand
why a person who professes to be so :
charitable as the missionary agents
does should go right over to Mis Dia
mond’s and say sncli ill-natured things
as she did, and she thinks the mission
ary is a double-faced gossip.
The Crown of England.
The erown of England is a beauti
ful jewel sparkling with stones worth
half a million dollars. There are
twenty diamonds round the circle,
worth $7,500 each, making $150,000:
two large center diamonds, SIO,OOO
each, making $20,000; fifty four smal
ler diamonds, placed at an angle of the
former, each $500; four crosses, each
composed of twenty-five diamonds,
$60,000; fonr large diamonds on the
top of the crosses, $20,000; twelve dia
monds contained in the fleur dc lis,
$50,000; eighteen smaller diamonds
in the same, $10,000; pearls, diamonds,
etc., upon the arches and crosses, $50,-
000; also 144 small diamonds, $25,000;
twenty-six diamonds in the upper cross,
$5,500; two circles of pearls about the
rim, $15,000.
“Pa,” said a boy looking up from
his grammar lesson, “why am Ia
preacher?”
“Why yon are a preacher?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You are not a preacher.”
“Yes, I atn, for don’t you see I'm a
parsin?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why, don’t you see? A preacher is
a parson, and I’m a parsin’. It’s a
pun.”
“Jane,” said the father, turning to
his wife, “hand me that stick of stove
wood. I can pardon his lying and ex
cuse his stealing, but now the time for
killing him has arrived.”
A good Baptist clergyman of Ber
gen, N. Y., a strong temperance man]
suffered with kidney trouble, neural
gia, and dizziness almost to blindness,
over two years after he was told that
Hop Bitters would cure him, because
he was afraid of and prejudiced
against “Bitters.” Since his cure he
says none need fear but trust in Hop
Bitters.