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A THE BUTLER HERALD. , Published By W. N. BENN3. A WEEKLY DEMOCRAttc NEWSPAPER,DEVOTED TO INDUSTRY AND CIVILISATION Terns, •VB liOT.LAR A YEAH. In Advance Volume .1, BUTLER, GEORGIA. TUESDAY, APltlt. |, 1879. WHOLE NUMBER 1 BO Us. i Advertising Nates. One sqnare one Insertion $1 00; each Snb- sequent insertion 50 cento. ,n/»Un On* column,one year $100.\)0 Ono column, nix month*. 00 00 *Une column, three months 35 00 'Half oolurnn, one year 60 00 Half oolumri, six months 30 00 ,Half oolurnn, three mouths 20 00 .Quarter column, one year 30 0JJ Quarter columu.six mouths 20 00 Quarter column, three months 1200 Communications ofa political character, 'cl art cles written in a ivocaoy or defense of the oiutms of aspirants for office, 16 cents per line. Announcement ef Candidates $5 00. Legal Advertisements Will be inserted at the following rates Bheriff sales, per square •*} 50 ■Sheriffs mortgage saleq.. £ . •» 00 Application for letters of Administration 4 00 Application for letters of guardirnship. 4 00 Dismission from administration 5 00 Dismission from guardianship 5 00 Fer leave to Sell land. * ”” Application tor homestead. 4 Notice to debtors and creditors........ 4 00 Sale of reAi’estate by Aaministwtore, execu- 't ira ami.gmudians. per square ... .. ..3 00 Rule of perishable prdpVrty, ten day*.. ..2 'K Estrnv notices. 30 dovg.. • • • ,M L All bills for advertising ul tm* griper are due on the first appeahmee ol.tiie julveitiie- meut will be presented when tne money is needed. THIS PAPER SUSS Usvriii*APF.u Apvkbxiiuno 11' Street), where tul> tiriurf ee.ilmct* n bn hie .o for it .. ! —- -J i- --1 THE BUTLER HERALD W. N. BENTfS. Editor and Pillltllluft ^EI.feOTl6iis i Ethel- SOU.4CKIPT10N PmcB .,1.00-. PttR ANMUli TUESDVT APIill. lit 1879 “Into each lift 1 . Bonis rain must foil, Some days toluBt Hu dark mid dreary.” Mra. Forr'esterB ball was the moat brilliah't Affair of the seaion. Every one said so, and, of coiitA’e, “every one" could not be Wrong A dazzling mixture of lights and flashing jewels on gleaming while necks and arms; an atmosphere 01 “trophioal odors sWeeter thlln most/’ and floating Around in the g 0 id e nli7ald«V a stormy 'oonfliot was ragihg in her heart. Hers was With a stroilg effort he mastered his emotion. “Do not reproach yourself, Or say forgive ule,’’Miss Stuart for it is all my own fault. I sec I have been mistaken. What I took for love wal only A kindly liking." He offered her his Arm as he fin ished speaking. Ethel shivered as with colil. As she placed Iter lit tle while gloved hand upon it; and together they re-entered the ball room. As Ethel Stuart sat in her room that night, listlessly untwining the bull x Forget to Stop at the CANNON HOUSE Butler, Ga. Located*on south-east corner of Court, House Square. Thin Hotel is the moat convenient, to the depot «ntl hi the business portion of the town, iiiid Iuih hueu retSUntly ren evated and rd-furnished. Table alway supplied with the best the market af fords. Charges moderate. E. BULLOCK, maroh.U-tf. Proprietor. 6ENEVA HOTEL, GENEVA, GA. The undersigned announces to the public that he is prepared to accom modate theui in the best of style rtt all times. The table will be Supplied with the best the country affords. Rooms, neat, airy anil comfortable. Board $2.00 per day< P. A. S* MORRIS, feb4tf. Proprietor. LANIER HOUSE, B, DUB, Proprietor. MACON, — — — GA. _o— THIS HOUSE i* now provided with every iieccssarjr convenience for the accommodation and comfort of it* patfo'uh. The location i« desirable aud convenient to the business por tion of the city. The tables Hove the best the market affd«. Ortmi- biiH to and Irom depot free of charge, bag gage handled free ot charge. The Bar is supplied with the best wines and liquors. NATIONAL HOTEL. E. C. CORBETT. Nr®. Nearly Opposite Passenger Depo MACON, GA. SQr Board per JDrift $%• OO Single Mm Ik 7& centtf. Tbs N.mi4T •» Os IWk f.stwrf. Barham’s Infallible PILE CURE. sr PIIm, wk.s • surs b ssMlbh,' kaleidoscopic mazes of the dance, men and womi-n with beautiful fa ces and eyes of a trophical dusk.” But the bright particular star of the evening—the lovely girl OVer who. e patrician beauty society ra ved—was missing. In a flower- 'embowered retreat, with her satin robes trailing in shimmering folds soft 1)* around her, Ethel Stuart erit alone. The sweet taco was bent thoughtfully downward, aud the thick, trophical foliuge concealed her from Iht* passing glance. But some oue has discovered her. ‘•Miss Stuart, so you are here (witn a sigh of relief.) I arrived about lilllf an hour since, and was just inukiug Up my mind to go, whbh l remembered your fancy for stealth# away from your importu nate admirers to sit and muse iu some silent conservatory. The thoughtful face lighted up with a rriuitei't smile as the girl made room fbr the speaker by her fcidu. “And why should yoo have de termined to take your departure so SUoriP It were scarcely corn pi i iii» litary to our hoBtess and your iriany fair friends.” “Ethel!'’ It was but a Word softly spoken and the silence that followed was painful, for, at the souod of her uame uttered in a tone which wus in itself almost a cUress, the girl Slanted, the delicate eh* eks blanch eu, and a gloom of puiu gathered like a shadow iu her bytes; Put ting up her hands ds if Id ward off some imptendidg evil, Ethel ex claimed: “Oh, Doctor Murray, doti’t, don't speak any farther 1” Randolph Murray imptilsivteiy sprang to his feet “Aud why should I a eft speak farther? You have seen what was in my heart these past weeks. Ah, Ethel! 1 read my answer long ago iu your beautiful eyes!” “You dbnot—canuot mean it?” she began in a dazed sort of viay; but he interrupted her in a slow, deep voice that carried his Whole soul in its tone: “It is too late to say that, or any thing, but that 1 love yon—with the love that comes but ouce iu a man's life.'’ “So short a time—so short,’’she broke in. “1 know it is short; but it has Seemed long to me, for I loved you the first moment we met.” “Oh, stop!” she faintly groaned “it is wicked for me to listen.'' “ Wicked 1’ “Yes;” she hrid also arisen, and stood facing him. “Oh, Dr. Mur ray, forgive mel I did not fore see this. 1 dm engaged to another!” For ao instant, the strong man reeled, and the soft light Which shed its subdued lustre on the fra grant flowers around him, changed to murky darkntess before his eyes, no cormiiou case—she was the promised Wile of one man, and alasl felt that she loved another. At ao early age her parents had died, leaving her and an older brother alone in the world. The brother, Who had always be^h a trial to his parents, placed htt ill- lie sister in it boarding school, aud taking his half of the large fortune left, had gone abroad. Thus Ethel had grown tip; nev er knowfhg the protecting blessing of parent Iovh, compelled to think and act ibr herself. She left school and entered so ciety, and at the age of twenty had never met any man to Whom her heart werit but, acknowledging him its master. Evert those who knew her bent balled bet reserved, incapable of passionate attachment-. Then she had met Henry Merle From the first he made hid admira tion fbr her very evident. He was handsome, wealthy, and possessed d great culture, and Ethel, advis ed by all who knew her well enough to advise, when lie offered himself did not say to him nay, but frank* ly told him how she felt towards him. That she did not love him with that passionate love such as she read of, but she liked him bet ter than any oiie else. He was contented, more than contented, to hebfire the object of his admiration at auy price; and the lovely girl, thinking that at last she had found a quiet hdvm Irom the giddy whirl of society, which she had never loved, a^feept- ed him. His property iu the West lndes needed his supervision, and plac ing a diamond solitaire on the sleuder finger of his promised bride he had gone with the understand ing that in the spring, on his re turn, they would be married. It was about this time Ethel met Randolph Murray. He was a young physician of small means, but with a clear, intelligent intel- Merle's return. Ethel was again perfectly candid, as was her nature, aud told him all, adding that he was free to break their engagement, but if be held her to it, she would do h**r duty, aud be a faithful wife to him. Henry Merle was a mao of the world. Lovh was only a name to him, he had palled of its sweots ong before he met the girl now speaking to him, with tue pale, pleading face and heavy eyes. He knew Ethel had a fortune, and that she was the most beautiful woman be had ever seen, so he clung fast to his prize, and neVer thought Of letting her go. Tiio preperationa for the mar riage were rapidly going on, when Ethel’s quiet was rudely broken by one of those terrible shocks which sometimes come in people's lives. Her Mother; who had lbft her When thfeit pnrteufcs died, arid who had setertied to have forgotten her existence, was a forger to a large amount. He had spent his own for 1 uue, gone from bad to Worse, and now every paper throughout the land was lull of the details of his crime. But Ethel rose superior to the blow which would have crushed a weaker nat ure.She did notsitdoWn to thihk, but acted promptly. And her abtion saved him from further dishonor. Money, eome say, is the “root of all eVil;” but ofteiier it is the root of a good deal of good; and Ethel, with a than tul heart, gave rill of hers to cover the Stolen amount, aud the offender was allowed to romain iu inerciiul oblivion in ri foreign country. Now the excitemeut was over Ethel bad time to think. She had not seen Henry Merle during the cad trial she had so bravely pass ed through; but she did uot think it strange, as she knew thAt hi: time was very much taken up iu business, and her thoughts dwelt Upon him and their approaching marriage with a nearer Approach to real tenderness than ever before It was sweet to leel thrit there was some one to share her troubles with her—some one to whom she had a right to look for comfort. Bdt a letter came, stating that the Writer had thought over the story she had once told him, and had decided it would be injustice to hold her to her engagemeut. But Ethel saw through the speci ous words, and now, poor girl, the waves of bitterness did indeed overwhelm her No one to turn to, her raouey lect, and active hands, arid it waaj^ 0De> ttn( j with it those friends who not long before her womanly pen-1 Bm ji e *hen fortune smiles, and etration recognized his worth. • worst ot all, Ethel felt her trust Without the sligritest. precep-j in human go i, lg too tion of h6r danger, Ethel had drift ed into ri friendship with him, and now the end hrid come. Before her Orti her toilet table lay a letted announcing her be trothed’s speeuy return, and that evening Randolph Murray had started to life iri her heart, by his unexpected 1 avowal, a feeling which the girl felt through every fibre of her fraibe, would be cruelly hard to suppress. But that, it must be suppressed, drr^etf riway, sbe knew, tor her word Wrio s&Teriuly given. The week passed 1 . Dr. Murray removed to the WiSt, much to the surprise of rill his* ftittudfa and pat rons (but Ethel kneW why.) And* it Write m So she sat, one afternoon iu her little lodging house room, sadly forming her plaas for the future, when a trip came upon the door. It opened aud there stood the man ly image she had ruthlessly driven from her heart, “EthelI my poor darling!” The poor girl rose, hesitated, aud then with a low, glad cry sprring into the outstrCtChe^l Ovids. “Oh, my ptecious one! pan I take the right to comfort jfoul I' only just heard of your trouble'. 1 never once thought that t$e Ar nold Stuart I read of w&4 your brother; and t!hen, when Ii heaid yrtfiV Wrik broken, X imagined how it was, and came ou the wings of the wind.” He paused, arid lifting the droop ing head with his firm hand,he ga zed longaud earnestly into the lus trous eyes, aud theo quietly press ed his own lips to the sweet, tremb ling toouth. Id that kiss Ethel felt all her troubles vanish. Arid so it always is—the dark est hour is always jiat ’pefore the dawning. o Ureat Men Marry? Women; or course. But they show the same diversity of taste that is seen in the lower ranks, and, on the whole, make worse mistakes. They however, •how the same sense iu choosing wives that they show in tnanuging other peo ple’s affairs, whether they be good or bad. Robert Burns married a farm girl * with whom he ftjll in love while they worked together in the plow-field He was irregular iri his life, and commit ted the most seriouB mistakes in con ducting his domestic affairs. Milton married the daughter of a country squire, but lived with her but a short time. He was an austere, ex acting literary recluse, while she was a rosy, romping country lass that could riot endure the restraint imposed upon her, so they separated. Subsequently, however, she returned, and they Jived tolerably happy, Qlieeri Victoria and Prince Albert were cdnsliis, and the only example in the loiig line of English monarch with in the maturial vows were scarcely ob served, and sincere affection existed. Shakespeare loved and, wed a farm er’s daughter. She was faithful to her vow, but we could hardly sky the same of the great bard himself. Like most of the gieat poets, he showed too lit tle discrimination in bestowing his af- fectious on the other sex. Byron married Miss Millbank to get money to pay his debts. It turned out a bad shift. Benjamin Franklin married tho girl who stood in her father’s door laughing at him as he wandered through 'the streets of Philadelphia, with rolla of bread under hie arms, arid his packets < filled with dirty clothes. She had casion to be happy when she found ler- self the wife of such a great and good man, Washington married a woman with two children. It iB enough to say that she was worthy ef him, aud they lived us married folks should—in i>erfect harmony. John Adams riiarriod the daughter of a Presbyterian clergyman. Her fa ther Objected, on account of Johh’s be ing ri lawyer; ho had a bad opinion of the morals of tho profession. John Howard, the great phylanthro- pist, married his nurse. She was alto gether beneath him in social life and intellectual capacity, and, besides this, was fifty-two years old, while Tie was but twenty-five. He would not take “No” for rin answer, and they were married and lived happily together un til her death, which occurod two years afterward. Peter the Great, of Russia, (harried a peasant girl. She made ait excellent wife and a sagacious empress. Humbolt married a poor girl because he loved her.Of course they were happy. It is not goneraly known that An drew Jackson married a lady whose husband was still living. She was an uneducated but amiable woman, and was most devotedly attached to the old warrior and statesman. John C. Calhoun married hi* cousin, and their children, fortunately, were j neither diseased or idiotie, but they do | not evince the talent of th* great “State j Rights” advocate. J Edward Lytton Bulwor, the English’ statesman and novelist, married a girl much his inferior m position, aud got sHrew for a’ wife.' She is now ihsuuo