I.*. H. C. lIISSKLI,, K.lltor,
WtPVHA. KIsSHmU. Aaoclat Editor
Buau Vlati*, M irlon Oj., Gv.
FRIDAY MORNING, JANUARY 7th, 187 fl.
CliflUltea in the Most Solvent
~ iy Reliable Portion of the
mm—mmmmmm ■ t * ■ >
Tnnof Jdvortltiing tho same as tbotjo ostab
bjy tho /*rea Aaoclation of Uoorgia for the
gflPU* for advertising are due on the flret appear
advertiaement, or when preseutfcl, ex
ggNß* Übeu otherwise contract*! lor.
A Chriitmas Story.
BY EMMA NORTH.
When first she opened her eyes up
on this green world in the greenest
Of summer months, her mother said:
“Let us call her June,” and though
her father thought it foolish and ro
mantic, yet the name clung to her al
ways, and before be died, he hud
giown to think It the most proper
name In tho world for her, who had
been his sunshine and his summer
tor nineteen years.
It happened to be Christmas Eve
when June came back to the empty
boose, after her father’s funeral, with
her mother and little sister, whom
ipK9 had cheered a little by saying,
she should take care of them
M long as she lived.”
“But you can’t have a white silk to
b married in now, June,” creaked
“Perhaps I can, if I can afford it,”
S*W June. ‘‘Mr. Oakley will wait
foy pie till next Christmas, and I can
I do not know wherein June’s pow.
er lay; 1 think the old psychologists
and mesmerists would haye called it
magnetism that attracted every one
toward her, even Allan Oakley, who
was a queer mixture of pride, re
serve, pompousness and aristocracy.
He wus a sober, methodical man,
♦ho had not gained much in all his
aJhtrtyrfirc years, beyond wealth and
Upd a tight grip on the belief that all
♦plSeix were humbug*.
He had made June’s acquaintance
cut oi curiosity a worse
motive; but the devil would not have
tempted Eve had’she looked up at
liim wdh eyes as tender and honest
■* Jime’* gray ones, smiling from nn
der their long lashes: and seeing the
innocence and simplicity of this girl’s
life, as it unfolded to him day by
d *7> ha began to love her carelessly,
and before he hardly knew it, found
himself engaged to her.
The first six months after her fath
er’* death, Juno got along better
than one would think. Life is never
very hard for such a woman as she,
when she feels there is someone she
can love and trust, and to whom she
*is : all in all, and the thought of him
lightened her for daily bread and
the load she had taken upon her
She hgd sometimes been her fath
er’* amanuensis, in his law office,
While he was living, and she filled
the place henceforth for stranger
banks, growing so accustomed to the
formula of “Dear Sir,” and “Yours
respectfully, Keene, Smart, Grabbitt
& Cos.” that she was apt to subscribe
her letters thus to the cud of her
During the year, Mr. Oakley rea
ring With himself profoundly.
I shall have to marry all three of
them,** he said to himself. “June is
§P p*r*istent about taking care of
that mother and young sister of hers!
MLftie men in my set throw it in my
face about marrying a shon girl.
?Wf' enough—one of the most
| fcttt ijtionate and conscientious girls
I know, but she is not suitable for
*e, end I am glad I found it out be
fore it was too late. She is young,
and will soon forget me.”
So, when Christmas Eve came, he
pot come with it, and if he had,
Whulfl not have cared to see
him, as he bad been some weeks
married to a woman who, his friends
, aed connections agreed, was quite a
June did just what any sensible
fjfel cbfild or would have done in her
place—did and said nothing about
it; put away her pretty white wed-
retrenched her expenses,
’workfea the steadier and harder; and
she smiled less and spoke more
seldom, she was none the less ehcer-
THE liUENA VISTA ARGUS
A. M- C- BUSSELL, Proprietor.
ful when she did speak; and if her
cheeks were a shade less red, it was
“Yes, we will take the house,
mother,” said June. ‘‘See what a
lovely curve about the edge of that
bluff—how green and still it is here!”
“But it will be too far for you to
walk clear beyond the edge of the
town, and in Winter there will be no
paths, and it is such a gloomy road,”
“Yes, but I shall take my dinner,
and the walk night and morning will
do me good; when the snow comes I
can come down the car-track. That
was why I got it so cheap for almost
nothing, you may say—a nice, cozy
house. The man that owned it had
eight children, and one of them was
run over by tnc cars, and he was gl&d
to sell it at any price. There is no
ill-wind but what blows someone
some good, and luckily Helen is get
ting old enough now to take care of
herself. Oh, what a lovely bedroom,
with this low window facing the east!
See this old, dead tree —I will have it
sawed off and covered with moss;
this bench will do for your plants;
and the hedge, with the rustic gates,
and the view of the river through
the trees, are so pretty ! I think wc
will be very happy here, mother.”
And so they were, though June’6
round face saddened and thinned a
little during the Summe:, and the
bleak ensuing Fall days. When the
little house was settle to her mind, it
looked like June’s own self, summer
like and sunshiny, and she was infi
nitely glad to put her tired head
he:e after all the turmoils and pub
licity of the day.
GcntlemCn all liked June, and she,
perhaps, had more admiration, of an
off-hand, careless way, than any girl
in town, was more stared at, talked
at, flirted with, till she grew sick at
heart with their flattery. Truly the
admiration of the masses, the love of
no one, is ahusk diet to any woman.
It was not so pleasant in the win
ter, when the snows came and cra
dled her like a baby, in that far
away little house, muffling the mur
mcr of the Mississippi, creeping lazi
ly past, and drifting over the leafy
walks to the office.
It was a long and bitter walk to
and fro, but June’s only idea of Par
adise, now, was that little walled- in
housP, her mother’s smile and her lit
tle sister’s clinging arms.
Sometimes she met and nodded to
Allan Oakley, who turned his fleet
hors*s out of the trodden way for her
to pass; she wondered sometimes why
he took so many drives up and clown
this lonely country road, and why she
should meet oim so of en.
110 had expected, when he married
the woman of his choice, to be per
fectly happy; but when anything be
comes our very own, bow the good
qualities of these do decline; and his
wife, to say the least of her, had
ways of her own, and, after some
months of domestic nagging, and of
bending his iron will to her still more
impregnable one, his thoughts went
back unwittingly to little June, with
her clinging, yielding ways; June at
her days work in the musty office;
June mending her clothes in the twi
light, making out her accounts in the
lamplight; June reading Sunday af.
ternoons in her white muslin, with
tli* pink roses in her brown hair.
He got a notion of diiving past
her house evenings and feeling a
sort of pleasure when he caught a
glimpse, through the shutters, of her
head bent over her law papers.
Now he knew she would never
come out to meet him again, he long
ed to have her do so—longed lor one
of her girlish caresses. He would
never have such pure kisses rgain.
He remembered her favorite quo
.A. DEMOCRATIC IPA.TvfEU_,T?" JNTIE'W’SIE 3 A-JPEiR.
BUENA VISTA, MARION COUNTY, GA„ JANUARY 7, 1870.
I could not love yon, dear so much,
Loved I not honor more.”
and knew very well June had no weak
notions about affinities in her well
June did miss him, and did need
him, but she knew the hardest thing
in this world is to do wrong (though
it looks the easiest); so she fought
old battle of Armageddon, that all
have to fight sooner or later; and to
such as come out conquerers— self
conquerors, I mean—l think none
will be sorry that they put their
trust in God and fought on to the
* * * * * * *
It was Chri tmas Eve again, a
low-browed, sullen day’, with the twi
light beginning to deepen. Allan
Oukely stepped out of his bank,
shrugging his shoulders at the damp,
bitting air. A knot ot newsboys nnd
bine nosed little girls were wrangling
and shouting about Christmas on the
He watched them a moment curi
ously thinking of one who had waited
for the Christinas to come, a year
ago, as joyfully as they, then, button
ing his muffler tighter, and muttering
something about “not having exer
cise enough,” he walked oil'down the
June hnd climbed down from her
high office-stool, to-day, “asking out"
an hour earlier than usual, had pur
chased a few things for her mother
and sister, and was on her way home
down the snowy stretch ot road.
She walked slowly, looking at the
angry west and the fast-dimming ho
rizon, watching it fade and darken
with the coming storm. By the time
she was in sight of home; the snow
had filled the walks, and she took,
perforce, her old resort, the car
track, noticing one other figure ap
proaching, along way ahead of her—
a mere speck in the driving snow.
Was it strange .June sometimes
wondered that should she get across
this track some dark and stormy
night, and the train should crush her
would her mother be very lonely ?
But, blessed with quick ears and
quicker feet, there seemed little dan
ger for her.
She plodded on in the great white
whirling storm, glad at last to reach
the cheerful sitting room at home,
with its bright fire, where her moth
er was laying the table for supper,
and littio Helen was playing with her
The wind had cried itself to sleep
among the hills, the night had set
tled down, sombre b'ack. June took
oft' her cloak, and Lat, fluttering un
easily from the window- to the fire.
“Come, June, tea is ready,” said
her mother. But June had run out
to the gate, watching the train,
which a mile away, was rushing to
ward her like a great red eye,
through the dense, whirling flakes.
The figure she had seen like a speck
on her way home was quite near now
going toward town and directly from
the cars, which were just out of sight
now around a curve in the hills,
their sound deadened by the man’s
muffler and the driving sleet.
June strained her eyes at the fiery
eye which every moment like a red
Cyclops, was neering the slowly mov
ing, unconscious figure.
“Are you not coming, June?”
But June had rushed out wildly to
ward the man going unwittingly to
destruction; a moment more, and she
had run between him and the engine
and taking him by the shoulders, had
pushed him by main force off the
track—but just one instant too late,
for the terrible engine had hit her on
the forehead and precipitated her
down the bank.
There was a commotion and a run
ning to and fro of the passengers; the
engineer whistled “down-brakes;”
a doctor w T ho was on the train got off
and looked at June’s limp, uamoving
figure, and shook his head.
Not much hope for her, he said;
but she saved your life, at all events
—looking curiously at Allen Oakley’s
white, set face. I don’t think she
will wake up again in this world.
But when Mr. Oakley had canied
her into the house and laid her on
the lounge, upon the pillows, she
opened her eyes with her old bright
I thought you would come to-night,
Allan, she said, because it was Christ
mas eve. lam so happy, for I al
ways thought I would like to die
near you. Lean down, and let me
take your head in my hands. No, do
noc kiss me—l have no right t your
kisses now. A little closer, for it
grows so dark, and I want to carry
the memory of your face witn me
when I get to heaven. Allan—Allan
—I used to love yon so 1 And June’s
voice dropped away, her head, with
all its pretty crimps and waves, fell
back upon the pillow, and she had
gone to where, beyond earth’s voices,
there is peace.
A Backwood’s Ro
BY EBEN E. BEXFORD.
down to the schoolhouso to night
to see about having a singing
school,” shouted young Josi’ Ba
ker, bursting into tho room where
the Baker family were eating sup
per, after the fashion of a small
hurricane. “Tho teacher he come
there this afternoon, and said as
wanted the app’intment given out
ail round. I ’low there’ll be a
smart turn out, and we’ll have
he? ps of fun. lie’s a cute looking
chap, I reckon. You’ll have to
keep a sharp look out, Seth Brand
or he’ll cut you out with Nance.
I know she’ll fall smack in love
with him the fust thing. The
school ma’am she did. Golly !
You ought to a seen her look
sweet at him.”
“I just wish you’d shet up,”
said Nancy, with sisterly tender
ness. “You be the biggest fool !”
—with a sidelong glance in the
direction of Seth, their hired man,
who was rathci) enjoying the con
fusion expressed, in her blushing
face, called out by Josi’s sally.
If it had been in these days, he
would have most likely responded
by saying that she “was another
as it was he passed over the com
pliment in siTent 'Contempt, and
went on to give a glowing and au
thentic account of the singing
teacher’s manners and looks, and
made him out to he a combination
of Adonis and Chesterfield.
“I s’pose you would like to go
down, would you not?” said Seth
to Nancy, after supper.
“Yes, I would,” answered Nan
cy. “I reckon there’ll be a heap
of young folks there.”
And so Seth and Nancy walked
down to the little schoolliouse to
gether just at dusk. Seth had
never asked Nancy to be Mrs.
Brand some day, but his action
had said as much, and she had giv
en him to understand in the same
way that “Barkis was willing.”
It was accordingly taken for grant
ed among the neighbors that Seth
and Nancy were going to make a
match. When they got to the
schoolhouse, it was pretty well
filled. The teacher was there,
lie was a sharp looking fellow,
with not an unhand ome face,
lie had evidently seen enough of
the world, and life in its different
phases, to feel at home any where
and he accommodated himself to
his surroundings wftlj a facility
that made a good impression on
most of the people present.
“Aint he handsome P’ 'whisper
ed Nancy to Seth.
“Not in my opinton,” answered
Seth. “I think that lie’s got a real
mean, ugly look about him. lie
don’t look as if he was acting out
his nat’ral disposition.”
At which Nancy fired up, and
said that she hated to see folks al
ways suspicious of others, jest as if
they was jealous. .
“If anybody’s fool enough to
fancy that chap,” answered Seth
with warmth, “lie’s welcome to
their regards; I don’t want ’em
I’m sure. 1 ’
Just here the cause of this little
tift called the meeting to order,
and there was no further quarrcl
At recess Nancy was introduc
ed to Mr. Eastwood, and kept up
a rattling conversation with him
until singing began again.
When the Bcliool was dismissed,
Seth, smarting a little from tho ef
fect of Nancy’s remark, waited at
the door for her to come out. lie
wasn’t going to crowd himself to
ask her if he might see her home;
if she thought lie would do so, she
was much mistaken. She couldn’t
wind him round her little finger-
While he w r as thinking theso very
pleasant thoughts out came Nan
cy, hanging to the singing teach
er’s arm, and smiling oblivious of
the existence of any other man on
the face of the earth. The sight
stung Seth so that before ho knew
what he was doing he stepped up
and asked Ilettie Green, a girl he
(‘hated wuss’n pi : Son,”he had often
averred, if he might see her home,
and stalked off witlx her on his
arm, feeling in anything hut an
The next morning Nancy was
cool and distant, and (Seth resolv
ed that he could he as cool as she
could, and would not speak to her
when he could avoid doing so.
The fact that the singing school
teacher was coming to hoard in
the family did not help to soothe
Seth’s feelings much.
“If she wants to flirt with him,
I am willing said Seth, savagely,
to himself. “She didn’t use me
right, and I’m going to show her I
aint to he bamboozled by anybo
dy. If she thinks more ot him
than she does of me, all right.
That’s her priv’lege, I s’pose.”
“Have you heard the news ?”
said uncle Joe Benson—uncle to
the whole settlement—dropping
in at Mr. Baker’s early one morn
ing, /Samuel lost both his horses
You don’t say so? exclaimed
Mr. Baker in surprise. What was
the matter with ’em.
lloss thieves was the matter
with ’em, answered uncle Joe. I
hadn’t dreamed of such things as
boss thieves in this yere part of
the kentry afore.
Of course everybody was wild
with excitement. In those days
horse stealing was considered as
the acme of villainy.
Men and boys turned out and
hunted the country over for miles,
but no trace of the lost horses was
About a week after that another
span was lost. People were thun
derstruck. Had they horse
thieves in their midst ? It began
to look so. A vigilance commit
tee was formed, and every precau
tion taken to guard against farther
depredations by the unknown
Two weeks went by and no fur
ther losses were reported. Own
ers of horses began to breathe a
It was /Saturday afternoon ;
Seth had been talking some time
of visiting his brother, who lived
about six miles from Mr. Baker’s,
and concluded that he would go
and spend the night there. So
about four o’clock he took his gu
and set off. He went through the
woods, and, as there was plenty of
game to amuse him, it was dark
before he reached his destination.
When he got there he found that
there was no one at home.
Ho looked around, and finally
made up his mind that the family
had gone somewhere to spend the
evening. Feeling a little sleepy,
ho laid down on a bench by the
door and fell asleep. It was
quite late when he awoke. As his
Annual Subscription, $2,25.
brother had not returned, ho con
cluded that they were not coming
back that evening, and resolved to
start for home. It would be late
when he reached Mr. Baker’s but
he could sleep in the barn.
lie took the road on his return.
He was about half way between the
two settlements when he thought he
heard the sound of horses’ feet and
stopped to listen.
It’s horses, sure enough, ho said
after listening a minute or two ; and
they are coming this way. Maybe
there are some more boss thieves
about. I’ll keep dark and listen.
He hid himself behind a clump of
trees on the bank of a small creek
that ran across the road, and waited
Presently the horses came in
sight. There were two of them.
Each one had a rider.
Hoss thieves, I’ll bet a Continen
tal, whispered Seth to himself. I’ll
be cussed if it dont look like Billy
Billy and Kate were Mr. Baker’s
It is Billy and Kate! exclaimed
Seth as the horses came nearer. He
was so excited that he could hardly
keep st 11. His fingers played nervous
ly with the trigger of his gun. If ther e
was anything in the world he hated
worse than Eastwood, it was a horse
The horse® came out of the shad,
ow, and their riders brought tnem to
a halt od the banks of the creek,
where the moon shone down through
the trees. Seth’s heart gave a great
leap, and his pulse ran up to a bund
red beats with the wild excitement
that took possession of him when he
saw who one of them was.
It was Eastwood, the singing
It was all Seth could do to keep
lratn shooting him on the spot.
Presently the men urged the
horses into the creek and headed
them to the West. Like a flash the
truth came Seth. They followed the
creek up until they came to the
great swamp, some eight or ten miles
away. There was probably their
lie waited until they were out of
hearing, and then started on a run
for home. He roused Mr. Baker
and told him what had taken place.
That worthy could scarcely credit
Seth’s story until he went to the
barn and saw for himself that the
horses were gone.
Where is Eastwood ? asked Seth.
He went to town this afternoon,
said Mr. Baker.
Yes, I rather guess he did, said
It was short work to raise the
neighborhood. They armed them
selves with all sorts of weapons, and
set oil - in the middle of the night to
track the horse thieves to their ren
It was just daybreak when they
reached the swamp, it was as Seth
surmised. After reaching the soft,
swampy ground, the trail left the
creek, and easily followed. About
two miles further on they came upon
the camp of the desperadoes. The
horses were pickctted to the trees,
and the thieves were fast asleep.
Seth and an other stalwart fellow
crept up and secuied the two men be
fore they were awake enough to com
prehend what was going on.
A wild shout of rage went up from
the frontiersmen when they reconiz
ed in one of the thieves the singing
Hang him ! cried Samuel Benson,
hoarsely. That’s the fate of hoss
thieves the world over.
Yes, hang him ! shouted another.
Hang him ! hang him I went up
from a dozen throats.
Seth tried to interfere, but lie
might as well have tried to stop a
* * * * *
They’re coming, cried Nancv from
the front door, about teu o’clock
that Sabbath morning. Anu oh
eli* gutna i'teta
Published Every Friday.
ratki or MunacßipTios,
On Year $2,21*
Set Months 1,15
Three Months 80
Always In Advanoe.
. Country Produce taken when Subscribers uuuut
Best Advertising Medium in
this Section of Ceorgia.
ma’am ! they’ve got K ate and Billy
sure’s you’re alive ; and they ketch
ed one of them men, and got him with
’em. And, too, excited to wait for
the tidings, Nancy ran out to meet
Hdn’t you get the other one ? she
orted. You know’ you said last night
that there was two.
Yes, we got him, answered Seth ;
lie’s bunging twenty feet high on an
old cypress tree in the big swamp
Good enough for him, said Nancy ;
served him jest right.
You don’t ask who it was, said
Seth, looking at her curiously.
Laud ! why should I '! cried Nan
cy. Taint likely as how it was any*
body that I even seen or heerd of.
But it was, said Seth.
You don’t say so 1 cried Nancy r
excitedly. Who ? for gracious
No less a person than your sing
ing teacher, answered Seth, with a
savaged delight iu his face.
Nancy turned deadly pale, and
then fell to the ground in a dead
* * * * *
Six months later there was no
such person in the settlement as
Nancy Baker. From which w T e are
to infer that their difficulty was set
How long have you been in Eng
land ? was the question put by a
young Englishman to a youngAmer
ican at a public dinner in London
recently. About two weeks, w’as the
reply. Really, was the rejoinder of
young John Bull, and I notice you
speak our language as well as we do.
Yes, was the reply of brother John
athan: I have not been here quite
long enough to forget how to speak
A remarkable instance ot calcula
tion was recorded at. Aylmer, Cana
da, where a barber named Johnson,
on a bet of fifty cents, ran under the
cars of a railway train that was pass
ing at a rapid rate of speed. He
•von the wager, though he lost the
■ cel ol one boot by a wheel that
came unpleasantly close as he
emerged. The man who lost the bet
said he had expected to win and get
a couple of dollars for attending the
The man who pays for his clothes
is the best dressed man.
King Mtesa was pretty much out
of pantaloons and things but accord
ing to Stanley he had a great deal Of
It is Mary Murdoch Mason who
divides her sex into three classes—
the giddy butterflies, the busy bees
and the woman’s righters. The first
are pretty and sidy, the seconu
plain and useful, the third manisA
and odious The first wear long,
trailing dresses and smile at you
while waltzing; the second wear ap
rons and give you apple dumplings,
and the third want your manly pre
rogatives, your dress coat, your mon
ey and your vote.
A great proof of superiority is to
bear with impertinence.
Rich men have commonly more
need to be taught contentment than
It is not all joy that produces
laughter, the greatest enjoyments
are serious. The pleasures of love,
ambition, or avarice make nobody
Poetry is the natural language of
all worship. The Bible is full of po
etry; Homer is full of religion.
There is no saying shocks us so
much as that which we hear very
often; that a man does notknow how
to pass his time.
The election disputes have not yet
ceased. At Huanto, a town in the
district of Agacacho, a serious con
flict took place on the 16th ultimo
between the rival parties. For
twelve hours the battle raged among
the polling booths to obtain posses
sion of them, and when night fell and
ammunition became short twenty
dead bodies lay in the plaza, with
the adjoining houses filled with woun*
Wants Another to Balance. —He
was a bachelor and she a widow of
means and good looks. The Detroit
Free Press has discovered that aa
they sat in the back parlor the other
evening he notioed a now picture
hanging up, and adjusted his glasses
and remarked, “Anew picture, eh!”
“Yes; my husband’s monument,”
she replied as she laid her hand on
his arm. “Don’t you tbmk I was
liberal ? And if I only had another
painting like it to balance this big
chromo in the centre it would just
finish out my group !” He thinks ha
I will marry a maiden when he mar*