The Buena Vista Argus. (Buena Vista, Ga.) 1875-1881, January 28, 1876, Image 1
&hc gwmi 3ttteta
A. M.< . RINSKU., K.IIIOI,
RUFUS \, RUSSKIH, AMOCIuUKiUtor
Vutm lMipion 00., Gt *•
rnnuv morning, January iwtb, 107a.
Circulates in tlie Most tiplvcnt
and ltrlinblc Portion of the
State.
Trmof SilrcrtixiiiK tlio wuno an thnso
l„hi‘rt by tho Ftoa* AMOciatlou of Uoorgia for tho
MhMwvcirtl MTre duo on tho flrot appear
Mice of tho odvortmoment, <n wluu prenontod, ex
cept whoft otherwise contraotwi tor.
OP THE
¥fsf Aifis
FOR THE
Centennial Year of American Inde
pendence.
A M C RUSSELL, Editor and Proprietor,
WUFUS A RUSSELL, Re,. WILLIS M RUSSELL,
RUFUS A- A^. E - EdHor Correspondent.
... . . , f ,rp„aoin<r Events, and Earnest Exponent ofDemocrat-
Good Stones for Grown
Folks and Children, Poems, Fun, Important iSews, Local Intelli
gence Crop Reports, Prices Current, Campaign News, A alu
g 2 ltJcipes, Agricultural Letters, and Lditoral.
• o
A Blight Base*, with Everything Hew, Eieh
and Interesting.
TMq vear 1876 is the Centennial year of our national independence
l rSit fmnortont one in the history of America. The press wil. he
and a nn interesting and valuable intelligence ol startling, grand and
teeming with interesting
forcf-hatt g c con , es t s of the year’s campaign will be waged with all
IK S excitement of the battle-field. The elec,ion of
President. Vice-President,
ofeonsress ...
Governor; Mkmilm'ks legiftlalwrc:
all county ofiiceßS.
•„ i • tho eamnainn. The defeat and death or the further
■w.ll be lnclm . a n( f usurping Republican party, is to be decided
this r ye n ar Cy The great Centennial Exhibition of Arts, Sciences, Mechanics
: ,u and the grand fraternal meeting ol nations, is to take
AWcXlnhia 1 876 is of vital importance to the Democracy of the
? And Vtites d an.l untiring vigilance as well as persistent and determined
,u U * d for liberty and Democratic victory. It is of the first
n no’rtance for every man in the land to take a newspaper, especially one
P an Itnl the interests of his own section, and keep posted as regards
repicsenti n Questions of the day, and the movements of parties
andwKciaSfc No citizen can vote intelligently who does not thus inform
and qualify himself, for the discharge of his duty to Ins country and his
family. 'Vista Argus will be alive to all the vital issues of the day
ii in , its leaders well informed on all questions and movements in
™lvini .heTSs“ S liberties of the pc. pls. It shall continu. to be
1 1 nrtofin in nrineioles and sentiments, striving with all its power and m
democia it P capable, for the overthrow and total demolition of
It goes Into tho campaign armed *1
Katticai coifui resolved to achieve in its section the triumph of
equipped and honest government. The Argus will
8t: „,i vneßte of all home enterprises and industries, satisfied that in
t°hem and a administration depend the prosperity and happiness
0t “sSmSm MW to spared to make tlio BcexaVista Amos
jl* Mmriwtw.,. ,
OTwl PT ,tertaimn and valuable to all. Its news columns will contain al
general political, State and local nows. Especial attention will
Kvm toSoriS all information and chronicling all events transpiring
Sthat seSS of comitry claimed as its territory, comprising all that por
the State bounded on the north by the Columbus branch, and on
i u ‘l sou ’ h by the Eufaula branch of the Southwestern railroad, and
?d on IS?by & ChattAhwheo river, eontaiirag tta eonntUe of Ma
rS Webster Schley, Chattahoochee and Stewart, and portions of the
on ’f .nfSnmtpr Tavlor, Macon, Talbot, Muscogee, Randolph aad Tcr-
C ™ Q ' lts' be thorough and complete.
1 ' Besides its editorial and news departments, there will be carefully edi
ted Literary Agricultural and Children’s Departments. Thn ling and in-
Srestin- stores choice poetry (selected ana original), entertaining t les
andvarfousSrmationfor the children, well digested articles on agr.cul
ture 'communications discussing public questions and reforms valuable re
does of ad kinds, amusing anecdotes, laughable episodes, dro 1 and ludic
rous incidents, &c. Doctrinal disputations and sectarian or denommation
ftl in the columns of the Argus valuable infor
mation and interesting literary reading, suited almost to every taste.
We call upon all to aid us in the good work wo have undertaken. While
we can assure our readers that they will receive the full value of their sub-
SitSbM in the paper itself, yet, for the purpose of securing 1 hree lhous
ami iCew Yearly Subscribers, cash in advance, we oiler besides the paper
th * rasissfm ?
“ “tootSt" MW ycariy'SbscriS'oib iliM in advance, from this date,
WC
Y% pint fine black ink, retail price w j fine mtUl pf , n holder “ “ .25
1 pack*‘fine amber envelope*, „ 20 % dozen good cedar pencils “ “
1 Aoio n feteel Pfnj . . , , , a .
Total retail price of premium, $2.80. All these articles are included in
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vance $2 25. This offer'is open only to new subscribers. Half and quarter
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P The Buena Vista Argus contains twenty-eight columns. Its size is
24x86. Published every Friday morning in the town of Buena > ista, a
rioD SubseripUon Rates: One Year, including postage and premium, $2.25;
Six months including postage, $1.00; 3 mouths, including postage, 75c.
Cash in advance. Those who waive the premium can have the Argos at
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*A. M- C. HIJfeSiLLL,.
Jbditor had proprietor
THE BEEN A VISTA A BUIS
A- M- C- RUSSE~L, Proprietor.
VOLUME I.
■A. DEMOCRATIC FAMILY ISTE-WSIP.AJpgELS*-
BUENA VISTA, MARION COUNTY, GA., JANUARY 28, 1878,
MORE CRUEL THAN WAR.
•'A Southern prisoner of war at Camp Chase,
in Ohio, aftor pining of sieknesrin the hospital
of thbt station for some time, and confiding to
hisfiiond and follow captive, Col. W. 8. Haw
kins, efTonnossco, that he was heavy of heart
because hi* tifliuoced bride, of Nashville, did
not write to him, died just before the arrival of
a letter, in which the lady broke the engagement.
Col. llawkins had been requested bv his dying
comrade to open any epistlo which should come
for him thereafter, and, upon reading tho letter,
in question, penned the following versified an
swer:” -
•My Fri n •,
Youi lo ter, lady, enmo too late.
For Heaven had claimed its own,
Ab, sudden change—from prison bars
Unto the great white throne !
And yet 1 think ho would have stayed
To live for his disdain,
Could he have read the careless words
Which you have sent in vain.
80 full of patlc nee did ho wait,
Through many a weary hour,
That o'er his simple soldier faith
Not even death had pow’r,
And you—did others whisper low
Their homage in your ear,
As though amongst their shallow throng
His spirit had a peer.
I would that you were by mo now,
To draw the sheet aside,
And sec how pure the look he wore
The moment that ho died,
The sorrow that you gavo to him
Had left its weary trace,
As’fworo tho shadow of tho cross
Upon his pallid faco.
“Her love,” he said, “could change for mo
Tho Winter’s colcl to Spring.”
Ah, trust of fickle maiden's love,
Thou art a bitter thing!
lor when these valleys, bright in May,
Once more with blossoms wave,
The Northern violets shall grow
Above his humble grave.
Your dole of scanty words had boon
But one more pang to bear,
For him who kissed unto the last
Your tress of golden hair;
I did not put it where he said,
For when tho angels come,
I would not have them find the sign
Of falsehood in his tomb.
I’ve read your letter, and I know
The wiles that you had wrought
To win that noble heart of his,
And gained it —cruel thought!
What lavish wealth men sometimes give,
For what is worthless all;
What manly bosoms beat for truth,
In folly's falsest thrall!
You shall nol pit.y him, for now
His sorrow has aneud;
Yot would that you could stand with mo
Beside my fallen friend;
And I forgive you for his sake,
As he—if it be given—
May e'en be pleading grace for you
Before the court of heaven.
To-night the cold winds whistle by,
As 1 my vigil keep
Within the prison dead-house, where
Few mourners come to weep
A rude plank coffin holds his form;
Yet death exalts his face.
But I would rather see him thus
Than clasped in your embrace.
Jo-night your home may shine with lights,
Auil ring with merry .0 ig,
And you be smiling, ns your goal
Had done no deadly wrong;
Your hand so fair that uone would think
It penned these words of pain,
Your skin so white—would God your heart
Were half as free from stain.
I'd rather be my comrade dead
Than you in life supreme,
For your’s the sinner’s waking dread,
And his the mnrtyi’s dream,
Whom servo we in this life, we servo
In that which is to come.
Ho chose his way, you yours—let God
Pronounce the tilting doom.
A Practical Lover.
It was agreed on all hands that
Ned Stone was a very practical
fellow. He was a broker in the
city. Ho had been a very poor
man at one time in his life, and
had to work very hard. His in
dustry had in the end, however,
met with due reward. At
middle-age he was comfortably
circumstanced When he announ
ced it to his friends, therefore, that
he thought of taking to himself a
wife, it was thought generally that
the step he meditated was a pru
dent one. And when he further
said that he had made an offer of
his hand to one Georgianna War
ren, the daughter of a wealthy
merchant, and that his ofler had
been accepted by the lady, we,
of course, hastened to tender our
heartiest congratulations of that oc
casion .
Ned spoke of the matter in his
own simple, sober way.
“Well, you know, I’m getting
on,” he said, “and if I’m to marry,
it is about time I should be setting
about it. You’re vory kind.
I think I shall be vory happy—in
fact I have no doubt about it —as
happy as a fellow has any right to
expect to be. One has no right to
expoct too much, of course. But
I am quite fond in my way, of this
Goorgianna Warren, and I think
that she in her way, is fond of me.
(She is not too young or too old ;
not too good-lockiug nor yet too
plain ; she is sensible and accom
plished enough ; and I don’t see
why I shouldn’t make a very good
husband. PerL.'ps I’m not very
fond of old Warren, the father,
and perhaps he isn’t very fond of
me. But I don’t know as that
matters much. I daro say we
shall understand each other better
by and by; meantime, I must try
and make the best of the old man’s
humor, and not run counter to him
more than I can avoid. And it
seems that the old fellow would
he no fonder of anybody else than
he is of mo. You see it is our af
fair—Gcorgianna’s and mine—and
not his, though it’s hard to see it
in that light. But I dare say it
will all come right in tho end.
That’s what I tell Georgianna when
she takes up with gloomy views
about her father’s temper. She
has sense, and I think looks at the
matter very much as I do—only,
of course, she can’t help feeling
that he is her father ; whereas,
thank goodness, he ain’t mine.”
It will be seen that Ned Ntone
was not a lover to “sigh like a fur
nace.” As to writing a woeful
ballad to his mistress’s eye-biows,
I don’t think ho could have ac
complished such a feat even if his
life depended upon his doing so.
The thermometer of his love stood
at’temperance, with no tendency
toward an upward rise. The
marks of love, as they are gener
ally understood, were not discern
rble upon him.
lie never said a word as to the
agitated state of his breast, nor to
the excitement of his feelings. lie
did not regard Miss Warren as an
angel or goddess. Probably he
would have been the first to con
tradict any assertion that might
have been made to the effect th at she
was any thing of the kind. Miss
Warren appeared to him what she
seemed to everbody else—a nice
sensible girl. lie was alone. He
looked a little grave, and held a
small seal package. We discuss
ed various indifferent subjects,
then I enquired concerning Miss
Georgianna.
“Oh, havn’t you heard?” he an
swered. “But of course you
couldn’t have heard. The affair is
off. Our affair has come to an
end.”
“You don’t really mean that ?”
I asked in surprise,
“Yes, the thing is ‘broken off,’ as
people say. It’s a hard job and
I’m sorry for it, hut it can’t be
helped.”
Had the lady resented his seren
ity and discharged him ?” I asked
myself.
As though he had heard the ques
tion he went on:
“It’s the old man’s doings. I
hope he is satisfied now. He is the
most unreasonable and disagree
able old fellow I over had the mis
fortune to meet.”
“But what did he do ?”
“We fell out about the settlement
—that was where the liiteh arose.
I’m sure I did all I could to pleaso
him. I gave up condition, after
condition, quite in opposition to
the advice of my solicitor. 1 told
him to settle on his daughter—it
wasn’t much after all—just as ho
pleased —I didn’t want to touch a
cent of it. He might settle it, I told
him, just as strictly as ever ho
pleased, or he might settle nothing
at all on her, if he liked that better.
It was his daughter I wanted and
not his money. And for my part
I’d take ca;;e that my wife never
came to want. I undertook to insure
my life for l, largo amount and to
assign the policy to trustees for
her benefit, in case of death, cove
nant of course, to the premiums
regularly paid to keep up the in
surance in the regular way. I
thought that a fair arrangement,
but it did not content him.
“lie wanted to tie my hands
completely. Ho hadn’t a hit of
confidence in me. lie gavo cred
it for no sort of affection for his
daughter. He insisted that any
money I in future possessed I
covenant into a settlement. It is
absurd. Ot course my wife and
children —if I had any—would
reap as much as 1 should. I told
Georgianna exactly how the mat
ter stood. She’s of age. I asked
whether she would marry mo with
out the consent of tho old man.
Poor girl! she was in an awful
way. But she didn’t care to do
that. She shrank from offending
her father, so no help for it—the
thing is broken off, and I’m not to
be married it seems —not this time
at any rate.”
He spoke rather sorrowfully,
but still without the slightes trace
of ill temper. I endeavored to
console in a common sort of way.
He opened the small package he
had been holding in his hand.
“This is pleasant” he said, quiet,
ly. Hero are all my letters to
Georgiauna. Ah ! and hero is a
little present I gave her, sent back
to me.”
There were not many letters.
There contents I could guess; lit
tle enough like conventional love
letters, probably like unexstatic
compositions, yet simply to the
point. The present was a ring—a
large diamond heavily set in pure
gold,just the valuable, simple,
substantial present which I could
have fancied Ned Stone selected
for his betrothed.
“I suppose they’ll expect me to
send back Georgianna’s letters to
her.”
“Undoubtedly. ”
“It’s the usual way when en
gagements come to an end 1”
Certainly; it’s the usual way.
lie rubbed his chin and seem to
reflect a little.
“Have a cigar,” he said present
ly, “and let’s talk about something
else. This is not the most agreoa
ble subject in the world. Tell me
what you have been doing with
yourself lately ?”
We fell to talking about this,
that and the other. Presently I
went away. As I went away he
said quietly; “I think I shall try
to see Georgianna once more, for a
particular reason.’ ’
I did not ask what the particu
lar reason was, and he did not tell
me.
A few nights afterwards I saw
him again. Ho was at no timo
subject to much change of mood,
or at any rate seldom betrayed any
variation of that kind. But it
struck me that, if anything he was
in better spirit than usual.
“You did not mention,” said he
“what I told you the other night—
that my engagement was broken
off?”
I explained that I had not men
tioned it, for a particular good rea
son ; I had not seen any person
whom it would interest to be in
formed of the fact.
“It’s just as well,” ho said, be
cause the engagement isn't broken
off-- 91' rather it’s on again.”
Animal Subscription, $2,25.
NUMBER 18.
“Indeed I I’m very glad to Lear
ft."
“I told you I should try and see
Georgianna again. Well, I knew that
she often went with her father and
other relations the park on Sun
day. So I wont tofthe park. I soon
discovered her, with Warren and a
lot of other people. She saw me,
anft understgod by my sign, that I
wanted to speak bn the ft'Sc!,- Well,
she lingered bohind a little, and when
the rest of the party went on, she
slipped off with me. She looked a
little friglitcned, and the tears were
standing in her eyes.
“So I put my arms around her—
it didn’t matter who saw, yon know,
and told her there was nothing to be
alarmed at, and that I only wanted
to say a word or two. I told her that
I was sorry I had not sent back her
letters, as I ought to have done, but
the plain fact of the matter was I
couldn’t do it.”
“You love me still, then, Ned?”
said she.
“Of course I do, Georgia, is any
one been telling you I don’t ?”
“She began crying bitterly.”
“Come Georgia,’’ I said, “let’s get
married whether papa likes it or not;
only say the word.”
‘‘‘She didn’t say a word. Poor
child. She could not speak for cry
ing, and she looked at me, and gav
me such a little nod, and then sh
began laughing through her tears.
Tt was the prettiest sight you ever
saw. Of course I kissed her; and
then I turned, and who should be
standing close by my side but old
Warren.
“Georgia gave a little scream, and
then tried to make believe that we
were looking at the lake. But, of
course, that didn’t work, so I said to
old Warren, in a cherry sort of a wav,
and putting out my hand cbeeriully:
“Mr. Warren, Georgia and I are go
ing to be married —that’s quite set
tled. But you and I may as well be
friends all the same. We’d much
rather have your consent than not.
Suppose you give it to us ? ’
“Be was so astonished that before
I think ho knew what he was doing,
he’d taken my hand. With all friends
standing around and looking on, of
course he could nob go back after
that. And —and so the thing was
settled.”
I congratulated him heartily. Pres
ently I said, by way of change: f
“How lucky it was that you didn t
send back Miss Warren’s.”
“Mv dear fellow, that was what I
wanted to explain to her; I couldnt
send them back.”
“You found them dear to you ?
At last; then, he had been betray
ed into a feeling of romance !
“> T ot at all,” ho exclaimed. “7
could not send them back because I
had not kept them. I had destroy
ed them ”
“Destroyed them ?”
“Yes; what was the good of them r
I keep business letters only—they’re
regularly docketed at my office. But
as to Georgia’s letters, they were of
no use, so I made them into pipe
lights.” ~
“You didn’t tell her that V
“No, I hadn't time. I never ar
rived at any explanation about the
letters.”
“Then, my dear-Stone, let me en
treat you, whatever you do, don’t
give Miss Warren your explanation
about the matter.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Dr n’t you see ? She thought you
did not send back her letters for a
sentimental reason, because they
were so dear to you that you could,
not possibly part with them; and so,
in point of fct, that little misunder
standing of hers led to the
lishment of your love affair.”
“Do you tnink so 7” he said mus
ingly.
“Yes.”
“Bnt if Georgia has made any
mistake about the matter I think that
I am bound to set her right."
“My dear Stone, take my advice,
for fear of accident; set her right af
ter the wedding ceremony, not before.
As to whether he took my advie'e
or not lam not aware. He was mar
ried in due course of time to Miss
Warren, and I know that that lac’.y
has been heard to declare that she
married the best husband in the
world.
A California bridegroom, on being
asked if he would take t.hte woman to
be his wedded wife, replied with en
ergy that the minister must boa fool
to ask such a question as that, ad
ding, “Drive on with your businoss.”
“Wc love cats,” said a spinster,
“because, never having been able to
obtain husbands, we attach ourselves
instinctively to cats, as being, after
man; the most treacherous animals in
i creation’”
"ey 1 111 ' ■■ iw p. tm{ .
PubP-ihed Every Friday*
It.VTES OF MUBSCUIPTIOfIi
INCXUWSO POSTACR.
One Y0ar........... $2,-25
Six Months... I IS
Three Month# ... .80
Always Ad vance.
Country Prodmt tafeu *W Salsmb* eamt'fc
Pay (Wt
Best Advertising Medium in
this Section of Georgia .
A WAIF.
I can recall neither the day nor the
hour, but thedneideut I am about to
relate is ns fresh in my mind as if t
bad happened yesterday. I was lin
gering at a small watering place, sit
uated on the- rocky shores of the
coast of Scotland. The ordinary vis
itors had already fled, dreading tbo
high winds and terrific storms, which
were of frequent occurrence at that
time of the year, and it was only a
few hardy ones like myself who still
found pleasure in lacing the rag
ing elements of wind and water com
bined.
It had been a more than usually
stormy night, and many an anxious
heart haa watched through its vigils,
tor it seemed as if some terrible dis
aster must be heralded by the boom
ing sound of the waves, and the
screeching of the wind when it found
opposition to its course in the shut
doors and windows of the little ham
let.
Bnt morning broke at last, and
brought a few wintry gleams of suir
light to brighten the agitated atmos
phere, though the waves still could
not forget their angry roaring, and
dashed against tho rocks as if bent on
their destruction.
I wandered along the low line of
sand which, broken as it is into ma
ny small bays, runs under the high
beetling cliffs of the shore, and reach
ed one of the most retired of theso
spots. Here I sat down on a flat
rock, which guarded the entrance of
the bay, to enjoy the beauty and ma
jesty ol the scene. I had not long
sat thus, when I was disturbed from
my meditations by a low, whining
sound, and looking down, saw a dog
standing before me. Its coat was
dripping with water one of the fora
feet covered with blood, and the sad
wistful look in its eyes went to my
heart
I gently patted its head, and tak
ing a piece of bread from my pocket,
offered it some; but the animal scarce
ly glanced at it, and only continued
to look at me with that sad, search
ing gaze, as if asking assistance. Af
ter awhile he turned a little way back
on the sands, and laid himself down,
casting a look toward me. My curi
osity and interest were both aroused,
and I followed. At first I could see
nothing, but presently from under the
paw of the animal, which was placed
protectingly upon it, I drew out a
little glove —only a little well worn
child’s glove—where life seemed still
lingering, so completely had it re
tained the form of the fingers which
had once worn it. I cast my eyes
over the wide waters but no sign of
life or death was there, only the mute
token in my hand told of both. Long
I scar died up ancf down the shove,
but iu vain. The poor little body
must have been carried out to sea,
and was never found as far as I
know.
“Ah, little one,” I sighed, “have
the greedy wave*, then, required
such a holocaust as thou, young, in
nocent and forlorn; and is there no
mourner for thee save this faithful
dog, and no monument but this little
glov ■! At last,” I continued, ns I
folded it carefully into my pVrtfol o,
- “it shall live in my memory, and thou,
poor creature, in my affections,”
I stopped as I spoko to caress tho
still prostrate animal, and so great
had been tho absorption of my feel
ings that I had not marked the in
coming tide; but now a wave rushed
swiftly up, and, though I was still
beyond its reach, it wrapped its cor
onal of foam round tho weak and
wasted form of the faithful dog, and
carried it helplessly back into tho
ocean. One short, sharp bark, one
feeble.struggle, and the brave heart
sank to rise nq more. It is long since
tliis happened; but the glove still lies
in my pocket-book nnd a tear lies in
! my heart whenever I rcc 11 its guar
; d.all’s late. — Oar F, tend.