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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',”