Newspaper Page Text
The Butler Herald.
- 9 .. _ . - -
Published By
W. N. BENNSt
|a weekly democratic newspaper,devoted to industry and CIVILIZATION. |
Terms,
O.Vf: DOl.f.AK A MAX.
In Advance
VOLUME a.
BUTLER, GEORGIA. TUKKttAT, JULY 10. 1878.
WHOLE NUMBER 81.
Advertising Rates.
One square one insertion $1 00; eteh -tab-
tequent insertion 50 cents.
One oolamn,one year $100.00
One column, six months SO 00
One column, three months 85 00
Hal/oolunin, one year 60 00
Haif column, six months , .30 00
Rail'column, three months 20 00
Quarter oolumn, one year 30 00
Quarter column, six months 20 00
Quarter column, three months 12 00
Communications of a political character, cf
art oles written in aivocacy or defense of toe
claims of aspirants for office, 15 cents per
line.
Announcement ef Candidates $5 00.
Legal Advertisement*
Will be inserted at the following rates
Sheriff sales, per square $3 50
BherifPs mortgage sales
Application for letters of administration 4 90
Application for letters ef guardianship 4 00
dismission from administration 5 00
Dismission from guardianship .6 00
Fer leave to sell land 4 90
Application tor homestead 4 00
ho lice to debtors and creditors 4 *10
hale of real estate by administrators, execu-
t rt and guardians, per square 3 00
Bale of perishable property, tea days.. ..2 V
Eatray notices, 30 days »HI #
All bills for advertising in this paper are
. due on the tint appearance of the advertise
ment will hr presented when the money is
needed.
THE BUTLER HERALD.
W. N. BENN8.
Editor and Publisher.
SiiBboiupnoN Tuck $1.00. Feb Annum.
TUESDAY, JULY 16th 1878,
1ANIER HOUSE,
B* DUB, Proprietor,
MAOON, — — — a-A-
—o—
THIS HOUSE is now provided with every
neofseery convenience forthenccommodstiou
ami comfort oi ih pairoim. i'ue 'location is
desirable end convenient to the business por
tion of the city.
The Tables
Have the boat the market a fids. Omni
bus to and Irom depot free of charge, bag
gage bandied tree or charge.
The Bar is supplied with the best s
Bud liquors. '
NATIONAL HOTEL,
E. C. CORBETT, Pro.
Nearly Opposite Pahbenoer Depot
MACON, GEORGIA.
2 to $3 Per Day,
According to Doom
Query : “Why will men smoke common
tobacco, when they can buy Marburg Bros.
‘Seal of North. Carolina,’ at the same price?"
feb 5tli-ly.
Ttnnmi.uainens you can engage in. $5
Uto $20 pet ciny made by any workvr
•oi either sex. right in their own localities.
Particulars and samples worth $5 free. 1m-
S rnvo your spam time at this business. Ad-
ress .Stinson k Co., Portland, Maine.
i a week in your own town. $5
j hit fit free. No risk. Header, if
“you want a business at which
oersons of either sex can make
great pay ail the lime they work, write for
GEORGIA—Tayi«or CouNxr :
To whom to may concern : Whereas L.
Q C. McCrary, Administrator, de bonis non.
on th» estate of Mrs. Lou. J. Witohur, oi
said couuty deceased, has filed in my office
his final return showing that he has fully
administered said estate and praying for tel
lers of Dismission from said Administration.
These are therefore to require all persons
concerned, creditors and next of kin, to show
cause if any they can, on or belore the first
Monday In August next, why said letters
should net be granted and said applicant dis
missed,ns prayed.
Given under my hand and Official Signa
ture. 1 his 1st May 1878.
JAMES D. BUSS.
Mayl m3m. Ordinary.
GEORGIA—Tayiair County :
To wbom it may conoern ; Whereas L.
Q. O. McCrary Executor on the estate oi
Bartlett McCrary, Sr., deceased, has filed in
my office, his final return, showing that he
has fully administered said estate, and ap
plying for letters of Dismission fr«m said
Administration. These are therefore to re
quire all pat ties concerned, creditors and
next of kin, to show cause if any they cau,
cnor before the first Monday in Angnst
next, why said letters should not be granted
said applicant dismissed hb prayed.
Given under my hand and Official oigna-
Tbis May 1st 1878.
James d. runs,
Mayl-m3 m Ordinary.
amiwHia*uNtN»4
OPIUMiSSts
SELECTlONh,
The Girl Who Saved the
General.
Far down the Carolina coast lies
the lovely island of St. John,where
stood, ooe hundred years ago, a
noble brick-built mansion, with
lofty portico and broad piazza.
It was the home of Mr. Robert
Gibbes and hf* beautiful young
wife, and the great house was full
at all seasons. Eight children had
already oome to this good couple,
and seven little adopted cousins
wore their playmates—the orphan
children of Mrs. Fenwick,sister to
Mr Gibbes. He himself was a
cripple, and could not walk. In
a chair which ran on wheels he
was drawn daily over the pleasant
paths, sometimes by the faithful
servants, sometimes by the still
more devoted children, who tug
ged at the rope like so many frisky
colts. The loveliness of the spot
suited well its uame of "Peaceful
Retreat,’’ by which it was known
through all the country.
But in those troublous times it
could not always remain "peace
ful.” In the spring of 1779 the
British took possession of all the
sea hoard. General Prevost march
ed up from Savannah and laid
seige to Charleston, But hearing
that General Lincoln was hasten
ing on with his army, he struck
his tents in the night and retreat
ed rapidly toward Savauuah. He
crossed the Ntouo Ferry, and for-
tefied himself tin John’s Island,as
the island of St. John's was often
called.
For weeks now the voice of mus
ketry and heavy gnus destroyed
the quiet joy at'Peaceful Retreat.’
The children, in the midst of play
would hear the dreadful booming
and suddenly grow still and pale.
The eldest daughter, Mary Anna,
was a sprightly, courageous girl
of thirteen, She had the care of
all the little ones,for her mother’s
ljands were full in managing the
great estate and caring for her
husband.
After a time the enemy deter
mined to take possession of this
beautiful place. A body of Bi^t-
ish and Hessians quietly captured
the landing on midnight, and,
ereepiug stealthily onward, filled
thepnrk and surrounded the house.
At daybreak the inmates found
thimselves prisoners.
Then came trying days for tho
from bed, and hastily dressed anA
armed. The family, suddenly
awakened,rushed to the windows.
A cold rain was falling, and the
soldiers, half clad, were running
wildly hither and thither, while
the officers were frantically calling
them to arms, Mary woke at the
first terrible roar and fled to her
mother’s room. The excitable ser
vant ottered most terrible shrieks
The poor little children were too
frightened to scream, bnt clung
untremblingly to Mary.
I Mrs Gibbes was in great distress.
She knew not at first whether it
was an attack by friends en the
camp, or an assault on the house
by the enemy. She ordered the
servauts to cease their waiting and
dress themselves. Then her hus
band and the children were pre
pared; and while the cannoa bel
lowed in quick succession aud the
noise around the house grew loud
er, the father and mother consult
ed what was best to do. It was
now evident that the attack was
by their own friends,and its object
was to dislodge the enemy. But
Mr. Gibbes did not knew that the
hou3e would not be fired on, and
he advised instant flight. He was
carried to his chair,and the whole
household sailed forth out of the
back door,
, The scene was terrific. The
night was pitchy dark, and when,
just as they stepped out,a sheet of
flame belched forth from the ves
sels,it seemed to be almost against
their faces. The roar shook the
ground, The troops were too busy
saving themselves to notice the fu
gitives, and they pushed on as
rapidly as possible.
Not one was sufficiently protect
ed from the rain, Little Mary had
the hardest part, for nearly all
the children were in her care. The
mud was deep. Some of the little
ones could walk hut a short dis
tance at a time,and had to be car
ried—Mary having always one,
sometimes two, in her arms. Sev
eral of the servants were near her
but none of them seemed to notice
her or her burdens. The last horse
had been carried off that very day;
there was no escape but on font.
Suddenly a ball came crashing
by them through the trees ! Then
a charge of grape-shot cut the
boughs overhead. They were ex
actly in the range of the guns I It
was evident they had taken the
worst direction, bnt there was no
help for it now—it was too late to
turn beck. In her agony, the
mother cried alond on God to
family, Tho officers took up their
quarters in the mansion, allowing "her" fainily. ~Mary”hu*
the family to occupy the tU’^lged closer ihe child in her arms,
8 *° r ^‘ {and trembled so she could hardly
John’s Island was less than thir-j keep up. Another crash 1 The
ty miles from Charleston, and t shot sprinkled past them, striking
when the American officers in the
City heard that“Peaceful Retreat'’
had been captured by the British,
they determined to rescue it from
the enemy, Two large galleys
were immediately manned and
equipped and sent to tlib planta
tion, with strict orders not to fire
upon the mansion.
Sailing noiselessly np the Stono
river at dead of uight, the vessels
anchored abreast the plantation.
Suddenly out of the thick darkness
burst a flume aud roar, and the
shot came crashing through the
the trees in every direction. The
assault was fierce, the roar staB in
cessant. The frightened family j
rushed on as swiftly bb possible
towards a friend's plantation, far
back form the shore; but it was
soon seen' that they would not
have strength co reach it, even if
they were not struck down by the
flying shot. The Amerioans were
pouring their fire into these woods'
thinking the enemy wonld seek!
refuge there, The wretched vegi-
tives expected every alomeDt to be
the last. On they pushed tbrongh
British encampment. The whole | mud and rain and screaming shot
place wae instantly in an uproar. | Soon they found they were get-
The officers iu Ibe house sprung! ting iuoih outof the raoge of the
guns. They began to hope; yet
now and then a hall tore up the
trees around them, or tolled fear
fully across their path. They
readied one of tho houses where
their field hands lived, with no
one hurt; they were over a mile
from the mansion,and out of range.
Unable to flee further, the family
determined ta stop here. As soon
as they entered, Mre. Gibbes felt
her strength leaving her,and sank
upon a low bed. Chilled to the
bone drenched, trembling with
■ terror and exhaustion, the family
gathered around her. She sprang
up wildly.
“Oh, Mary 1” she cried, ‘where
is Joltu ?”
The little girl turned pale, and
moaued: “Oh mother 1 mother 1
he’s left I” She brake intocryiog.
The servants, quickly sympathet
ic,began to wring their hands and
wail.
“Silence I” said Mr. Gibbes,
with a stern but trembling voice,
The tears were in his own eyes.
The little child now missing was
vsry dear to tnem all aud, more
over, was deemed a sacred charge,
as he was one of the orphan chil
dren of Mr. Gibbes’s sister, in
trusted to him on her death-led.
The wailing censed; there was
silence, broken only by sobs, and
the master asked :
“Who is willing to go hack fur
tho child ?”
No one spoke. Mr. Gibbes turn
ed to his wile for council. As tho
two talked in low tones,Mrs. Gib
bes celled her husband's attention
to Mary, who was kneeling with
clasped hands, in proper at. the
foot of the bod. In a moment the
little maid rose and came to them,
saying, calmly;
‘Mother, I must go b tek alter
baby.'’
Oh. my child/' cried the moth
er, iu agony, “I cannot let you 1"
Bat, mother, I must,” plead
ed Mary, “God will care for ute.’
It was a tearful responsibility.
The guns yet roared constantly
through the darkness; the house
might now be in flames, it might
be filled with carnage and blood.
His face waB hurried in his hands,
Plainly, she might decide it her
self. With streaming eyes, she
leoked at Mary.
Come here, nty child,” she
called through her sobs. Mary
fell upon her mother’s neck. One
long, passionate embrace.in which
all a mother’s love and devotion
were poured out, and the clinging
arms were opened without, a word.
Mary sprang up, kissed her fa
ther’s torehead, and sped torth on
her dangerous mission of love.
The rain had now ceased, hut
the night was still dark nud full of
tarror, for through the trees she
the frequent flashes of the
great gnns. The woods were fill
ed with the booming echoes, so
that cannon seemed to be on every
hand, She flew on witli all speed.
Soon she heard the crashing trees
ahead,and knew that in a moment
Bhe would be once more face to
face with death. She did not fal
ter. Now she was again in the
fierce whirlwind 1 All Itrouud her
the shots howled and shrieked. On,
every side branches fell crashing 1
to .the earth. A cannou-bttll-j^ung-
ed into the ground dose heshlu
her,cast over with a heap iff mud,
and threw her down. She sprang
up and pressed on with redoubled
vigor. Not even that ball could
make her tarn back.
She reached the house. She ran
to the room where the little child
usually slept. The bed was empty,-wj
Distracted, she flew from chamber
to chamber.—Suddenly” she re
membered that this night 'ho had
been giveo to another nurse. Up
into the thirn story she hurried,
and, as she pushed the door open,
the little fellow, sittiug up in bed,
coou.J to her aid put out its hands.
With tears running down her
cheeks, Mary wrapped the baby
warmly np and started down the
stairs Out into the darkness once
more; onward with her precious
burden, through canuon-roar,
through shot aud shell ! Three
times she passed through this iron
storm. The balls still swept the
forest; the terrific booming filled
the air.
With her child pressed tightly
to her brave young heart, she fled
on. She ueither stumbled nor fell.
The shot threw the dirt in her
face,and showered the twigs down
upon Iter head. But she was not
struck. In safety she reaehed the
hut, and fell exhausted across the'
threshold.
And the little hoy thus saved by
a girl’s brave devotion, afterward
became General Fenwick, famous
in tho war of 1812.—St. Nicholas.
“There's Dust oil Your Glasses.”
1 don’t often put on glasses to ex
amine Kut>'s work, but one morning
not long since,! did so upon entering
a room, she had been sweeping,
'•'Did you iorget to open the win
dows when yon swept, Katy?'’ I in
quired; ‘‘this room is very dusty,”
‘‘1 think there is dust on your eye
glasses, ma'am,’’ she said modestly.
Aud sure enough ttie eye-glasses were
ai fault, and Hot Kuty. 1 rubbed them
off aud everything iooked bright and
clean, tho carpet like new, and Katy's
lace said—I'm glad it was the glasses
and not me this time. This has taught
me n good lesson, I said to myself
upon leaving.the room, aud one I
shall remember through life.
That evening Katy came to mo with'
some Kitchen trouble. Tho cook had
done so and so, aud had said so and
so. When her story was duished, I
said, smiling, ‘‘There ib dust On your
ghisscfc Katy; rub them off', aud you
will see better.’’ She understood me
and left, the room.
I told the incident to the children
and it is quite common to hear them
say to each other **0h, there’s dust
on your glasses.”-. Sometimes I am
referred to, ‘‘Mamma,Harry lias dust
ou his glasses; can't lie rub them off?”
When l hear a person criticizing
another, condemning, perhaps, a
course of action he knows nothing
about, drawing inferences prejudicial
to the person or persons,- I think
right away “there's dust on your
glasses; rub it off'.'' The truth is,
everybody wears those very same
glasses, only the dust is a little thick
er' ou some than others and needs
harder rubbing to get it off.
t said this to' John one day, same,
little matter uoming up that called
forth the remark : “There are some
people 1 wish would begin to rub,
then,” said ite. “There is Mr. So,
and So, and Mrs. So, and So,they are
always ready to pick at some one, to
Slur, to hint, 1 don’t know l don’t line
them.” 1 tldnK iny son John lias a
wee bit on his glasses just nowho
laughed and asked, ‘What is a body
to dot” ‘Keep your own well rub-
up. and you will not know whctlt-
thers need it or not.” 'I will, ho
I think as a family we are'
. rT . y _tlng by this litilo incident.
ij$ihfuugh life will never forget the
meaning ol—''There i» dust ofi your'
glasses',”