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BY T. L. GANTT. OGLETHORPE ECHO PUBLISHED E\EBY FRIDAY MORNING, T. L. GANTT, Editor and Proprietor. CASH RATES OF ADVERTISING. The following table shows our lowest cash rates for advertising. No deviation will be made from them in any case. Parties can readily tell what their advertisement will cost them before it is inserted. We count our apace by the inch. Time. 1 in. 2 in. 3 in. 4 inTfcof J col. 1 col 1 w’k, SI.OO $2.00 $3.00 $4.00 s(>.oo SIO.OO sl4 2 44 1.75 2.75 4.00 5.00 8.00 13.00 18 3 44 2.50 3.25 5.00 6.00 10.00 16.00 22 4 44 3.00 4.00 6.00 7.00 11.00 18.88 26 5 44 3.50 4.50 6.00 8.00 12.00 20.00 30 6 44 4.00 5.00 7.50 8.00 13.00 22.00 33 8 * 4 5.00 6.00 9.0010.00 15.00 25.00 40 3 mos, 6.00 8.0011.0014.00 18.00 30.00 50 4 44 7.00 10.0014.0017.00 21.00 35.00 50 6 44 8.50 12.00 16.00 20.00 26.00 45.00 75 9 44 10.00 15.00 20.00 25.00 33.00 60.00 100 12 44 12.00 18.0024.0030.00 40.00 75.00 120 LEGAL ADVERTISEMENTS. Sheriff Sales, per levy, 10 lines $5 00 Executors’, Aumini4trators’ and Guardi an’s Sales, per square .-. 7 00 Each additional square 5 00 Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 30 days, 4 00 Notice of Leave to sell, 30 days 3 00 Letters of Administration, 30 days 4 00 Letters of Dismission, 3 months.. 5 00 Letters of Guardianship, 30 days 4 00 Letters of Dis. Guardianship, 40 days.... 3 75 Homestead Notices, 2 insertions 2 00 Rule Nisi’s per square, each insertion... 1 00 GEORGIA RAILROAD SCHEDULE The following is the schedule on the Geor gia Railroad, with time of arrival at and de parture from every station on the Athens Branch: UP DAY PASSENGER TRAIN. Leave Augusta at 8:45 a. rn. Arrive at Union Point 12:27 p. m] Leave Union Point 12:52 p. m. Arrive at Atlanta 5:45 p . m ’ DOWN DAY PASSENGER TRAIN. Leave Atlanta at 7:00 a. m. Arrive at Union Point 11:32 a. m. Leave Union Point 11:33 a. m. Arrive at Augusta 3:30 p. m. UP NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN. Lfcave Augusta’at. 8:15 p. m. Arrive at Atlanta 6:25 a. m. Remains one minute at Union Point. ATHENS BRANCH TRAIN. DAY TRAIN. . Time stations. Arrive. Depart, bet. sta’s. A. M. Athens 8 45 25 Wintersville 9 10 9 15 30 Crawford 9 45 9 50 25 Antioch 10 15 10 18 15 M&xey’s 10 33 10 35 15 Woodville 10 50 10 55 20 Union Point 11 15 UP TRAIN. Union Point.. .P. M. 100 20 Woodville 1 20 1 25 15 Maxey’s 1 40 1 45 15 Antioch 2 00 2 05 25 Crawford 2 30 2 35 30 Wintersville 3 05 3 10 25 Athens 3 35 NIGHT TRAIN—Down. Athens a. m. I 10 00 25 Wintersville 10 25 | 10 30 30 Crawford 11 00 I 11 05 25 Antioch 11 30 | 11 32 15 Maxey’s 11 47 11 49 15 Woodville 12 04 | 12 10 25 Union Point 12 35 j a. m. Up Night Train. Union Point 3 55 25 Woodville 4 20 4 24 15 Maxey’s 4 39 4 41 15 Antioch 4 56 4 58 25 Crawford 5 23 5 27 30 Wintersville 5 57 6 02 28 Athens..... 6 30 aiLL— ■ ——- - ■ m MISCELLANEOUS. TIE LITTLE STORE 01 TIE COMER. o HERE THE CITIZENS OF OGLETHORPE will alway find the Cheapest and Best Stock of FANCY GOODS, LIQUORS, GROCERIES, LAMPS, OIL, Etc. J. M. BARRY. Broad Sfcr., Athens, Ga. a P 9-tf CHARLES STERN, Broad Street, ATHENS, GA. Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Dry (Mil, Clotlii MILLINERY GOODS, BOOTS, SHOES, HATS, NOTIONS, Ac. The citizens of Oglethorpe cordially invited to examine my stock and prices before buying elsewhere. Ihe best line in Athens. ap9-lm 250,000 CIGARS! NOW IN STORE, OF THE Choicest Brands I which we offer at GREATLY REDUCED PRICES. Also, a large stock of SMOKING AND CHEWING TOBACCO, SNUFF. GENUINE MEERCHAUM PIPES AND ALL SMOKERS’ ARTICLES A liberal discount allowed to Jobbers buy* ing largely. Conte one! Come all! 1 KALVARUiSKY 4 LIRRLRR, Under Ncvtoa House. Athens, Ga. ®ljc gDglcttyorpc <£cl)o. HISTORICAL SKETCHES. 0 Life and Exploits of Nancy Hart. o BY ALBERT WINTER. o Specially Prepared for the Oglethorpe Echo. NUMBER IV. Since writing the last sketch, I have found additional evidence that the Lord Gordon who made the settlement before referred to in ilkes county was the same one who figured in the no-Popery riots in London ; and I find also that my memory, or my pen rather, caused me to make Gordon appear in Dickens’ 44 Tale of Two Cities” instead of 44 Barnaby Rudge,” where he properly belongs. I hasten to make this correction because it is my object to make these sketches as nearly correct in every respect as any thing human may hope to be. But, then, when such men as Mr. Stephens and Mr. Hill are mistaken concerning one of Dickens’ most graphic delineations, and make a drunken donee by the rabble of Paris mean a political tirade, I need not hope to escape such infirmities. I refer to the use of the word “ carmagnole,” by Mr. Stephens, in speaking of Mr. Hill’s address before the Southern Historical Society. This was clearly a misapplica tion of a term which, in its proper place and in connection with the terribly vivid picture, in the 44 Tale of Two Cities,” of the carmagnole, as enacted in the streets of Paris during the Reign of Terror, has a significance at once pertinent and real But to apply the term carmagnole to an address delivered before a learned body, and to set the astute Mr. Hill and his en lightened audience belore the world en gaged, as it were, in the drunken orgies that disgraced the Parisian mob, comes with a bad grace from one whose proud boast is that he never makes a mistake. Although but a hundred years have passed since the war of the Revolution commenced, but little is known of the incidents connected with that great struggle so far as the present counties of Wilkes and Oglethorpe are concerned. Both of these counties were then one, under the name of Wilkes—that is, after the year 1777, at which time the name was given. There were numerous settle ments scattered over what is now the county of Wilkes, but it is hard to say positively whether or not there were set tlements in that part of the county after wards called Oglethorpe. Tradition says that a severe battle was fought near Broad river, where Millstone creek enters it, between the Tories and the Whigs under Colonel Clarke. But I have failed to find any mention of it in the histories now extant. It is natural to suppose, however, that some persons were then living in our county, for the Tories from the lower counties were in the habit of visiting the section then and now called Goose Pond, and it is certain that they never paid their visits where there was not something to steal. Again, reference is made in the mea gre accounts that come to us of the cele brated Nancy Hart—to her neighbors, and as she lived just across the river in what is now Elbert county, nothing is more probable than that some of them, at least, lived in our county. Though not a resident of our county, these sketches would be incomplete without some mention of Nancy Hart and her heroism. For many years after the close of the war, and when many of the scenes and incidents in which Nancy had been engaged were forgotten, no written memorials existed to tell future generations of her deeds of daring ; and, indeed, when a portion of Elbert was cut off and it was proposed to call it Hart after the great heroine, some opposed it, saying that Nancy was a myth, and that no such woman ever existed. Diligent inquiry was made, however, and it was established beyond a doubt that she not only lived, but had done even more than tradition had ascribed to her. She was born in North Carolina, but emigrated soon after her marriage, with several others, and settled on Broad river. Her maiden name was Morgan, and if tradition is correct) she betrayed very early in life those strong traits of character which, in troublous times of the Revolution, made her such an object of terror to the enemies of her country. Her husband was a brother of the cele brated Colonel Thomas Hart, of Ken tucky, father of the wife of Henry Clay, and an uncle of the Hon. Thomas Hart Benton, of Missouri. Some of the ac counts describe Nancy as being terribly cross-eyed aa wall as cross-grained, and lacking all the alamante that make an CRAWFORD, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, APRIL 16, 1875. amiable wife or even an amiable member of society. But in the sterner attributes of our nature —courage, strength and de votion to the cause of liberty—she was unapproachable. In reading of her courage, the most fastidious cannot deny that she was formed of the stuff of which heroes and heroines are made, and in view of the better part of her nature we forgive what in others would appear un womanly and unnatural. She was well adapted for the stirring scenes in which she lived, and while she would appear to but little advantage in a drawing-room of the present day, she would put to shame in real patriotism many of the men of our time. It is well known that when the conflict between the colonists and the mother country began, many of the men in South Carolina and in portions of Georgia ad hered to the Royal cause, and were call ed, in consequence, Tories. Such men never entered the regular British army, but formed themselves into bands, whose sole pursuit was murder and plunder, and it was with these men that our hero ine nad principally to deal. Nancy’s husband was dubbed by her a 44 poor stick,” inasmuch as he refused to take an active part in the great struggle, but as his sympathies were with his country men, it happened sometimes that he was compelled to seek safety from thieving Tories in a swamp that was near his cabin. It is stated of this extraordinary woman that she was one night, with her children, gathered around a blazing log fire, it being dead of winter. Her hus band was absent with some of his Whig friends lookingafter a party of the enemy that had committed some depradations in the neighborhood. She was busily engaged in stirring a huge pot of soap that hung over the fire, and as she stirred she talked of the war, of the last battle, and the fate she would give the Tories if they were in her power. While she was thus talking and exchanging rude jests at the expense of the King’s men, some one of the family saw the face of a man peering through the large cracks of the log-house, and listening intently to the conversation. Nancy gave no sign that she knew of the presence of the stranger, but continued to stir and talk and watch the crack where the face had appeared. At last it reappeared, and quick as light ning she threw a ladle of hot soap full in the face of the interloper. The man was blinded by the stream of hot soap, and before he could recover Nancy had bound him fast as her prisoner, and doubtless she had him attended to after the pecu liar fashion of the day. On another occasion a party of Tories had been on a thieving expedition through the upper part of Wilkes county, and five of them crossed Broad river to pay a visit to Nancy’s cabin. When they entered Nancy greeted them with a scowl, and, I might add, with language rather inclined to be profane than other wise. The leader of the party said they had called on her to learn the truth of a story they had heard concerning a recent escape made by a Whig in which Nancy had assisted. She unhesitatingly pro claimed her agency in the matter, and even went so far as to detail the means by which she had enabled the poor fel low to elude the clutches of his pursuers. After venting their rage in a series of oaths, the party ordered Nancy to pre pare them something to eat, as they had marched far and were hungry. She told them that the rapacity of their brethren had put it out of her power to give them anything, as she had only an old turkey gobbler left. One of them imme diately went out into the yard and shot the turkey, and bringing it in, ordered Nancy to prepare it forthwith. She seemed to make a virtue of necessity, and set about cooking, exchanging, in the meantime, rude jests with the Tories, and giving them accounts of the various encounters she had had with other par ties who had visited the neighborhood. On a stump near the spring, which was but a short distance from the cabin, a large conch-shell had been placed, which was used to give signals to Nancy’s hus band in case of danger, and to warn him to flee to the swamp before referred to. During the time that Nancy was engaged in cooking she had sent her daughter Sukey—a girl of some twelve years—to the spring, ostensibly after water, bat really to give her husband no tice, by the conch, that the Tories were in the cabin, and that he, with the three men who were with him, must keep close until they heard another signal. In the meantime the meal was ready, and pla cing it on a rude table, Nancy requested the party to be seated. They did so, and placing a jug they had brought, which contained whiskey, on the table, they requested her to join them., This she did, with thanks for their kindness. The party soon became merry over the jug and tbs slaughtered gobbler, end oalb ed for water. As there was none in the house, Sukey was again dispatched to the spring, with secret orders from her moth er to give notice on the conch that the absent men, Hart and his neighbors, should come immediately. Meanwhile, Mrs. Hart had slipped out the chinking between three of the logs, and had suc ceeded in putting through the hole two of the five guns. She was detected while in the act of putting out the third one, and the party of Tories sprung to their feet. She brought the gun to her should er, and swore she would shoot the first man who dared to approach her. And right here, what had hitherto been a great misfortune proved a blessing. From Nancy’s obliquity of vision, each one of the party imagined himself to be pecial object of her aim, and was con sequently afraid to rush on her. At length, however, one of them made a motion to advance, and true to her word, the heroic woman shot him dead, and seizing another gun she brought it to her shoulder. By this time Sukey had return ed from the spring, and taking out the remaining gun, remarked that ‘‘daddy and them will soon be here.” This news determined the Tories to make another attempt to gain their arms ; and one of them advanced, but the next moment he rolled on the floor a dead man. Sukey had another gun in readiness, and posting herself in the door, Nancy order ed them to surrrender, which they agreed to do, proffering to shake hands as a pledge of good faith. But Nancy kept them in their places until her husband and neighbors came, when they were about to shoot them down in cold blood. Nancy said, however, that hanging was too good for them, and acting on this hint, the Tories were taken out and hanged to a tree near the house. There are two accounts of the affair, differing somewhat from each other, and still another given by Mr. Gilmer in his book. The foregoing is taken from Mrs. Ellet’s “ Women of the Revolution,” a work of great merit and truth ; the other account is that published in the York ville sketch, which, I believe, was the first published account of this extraordi nary woman. Mr. Gilmer states that while a member of Congress, in 1829, soon after the elec tion of General Jackson to the Presiden cy, some member, anxious to secure his favor, offered a resolution that the niches in the Rotunda at Washington be filled with paintings commemorative of Jack son’s great victory at New Orleans. Mr. Gilmer offered an amendment that one be filled with a painting representing Nancy Hart in the act of wading Broad river with a musket on her shoulder and three Tories in front, on her way to the Whig camp. It is the generally received opinion, however, that the Tories who were taken by Nancy in this, her most celebrated adventure, were hung; and, indeed, the stump of the tree is still pointed out to visitors. On another occasion, when the com mander of the Whig army desired some information in regard to the movements of the enemy in Carolina, Nancy con structed a rude raft, crossed the Savan nah river, and returned safely, having gained the information sought. Many other stories are told of her daring and presence of mind, but they are generally known, and I will not repeat them here. One incident, however, I will relate: Among those who came to Georgia with Nancy Hart was Nancy Wilder, who settled in the swamp of Long creek. She was a lone, lorn woman, as Mrs. Grem midge would say, and earned a support by weaving and other like things for the neighborhood. Nancy Hart carried the materials for a piece of cloth, and at the time agreed on she returned, expecting to find it finished. But it seemed that from some cause Nancy Wilder failed to have it done by the time specified, and was absent from home when Mrs. Hart came after it. Finding a portion of it finished, Mrs. Hart proceeded at once to cut that part out, intending to leave the unfinished part for the toll. While she was thus engaged, Nancy Wilder re turned, and seeing what her visitor was doing, she —to use a modern expression —“ went for” her. A neighbor, who passed at the time, hearing a great noise in the house, ran in to find the cause, and saw the two Nancys engaged in a regular fight, with hands clenched in each other’s hair, and cursing in a way that would have put even the army in Flanders to shame. With difficulty he separated them, and after mutual expla nations they became as good friends as before. When the war closed and its animosi ties began to die oat, and milder and more gentle counsels asserted their sway over the hearts of the people of Upper Georgia, our heroine found herself “ cab ined, cribbed, confined” by the ceremo nies tad usages of refined society. She longed for the excitement of the chase— for she was a mighty Nimrod—and her untamed spirit scorned the petty devices of the world. Following the tide of emi gration which had already begun to flow westward, she settled in Alabama, on the Toinbigbee river. But she was so unfor tunate as to lose her crops by an over flow of the river, and left the country in disgust. Returning to Georgia, she found her old home in the hands of strangers, and far different associations than she had known in the stirring times of old. She finally settled in Edgefield, South Carolina, where she died, though at what age is unknown. For many years before her death Mrs. Hart was a consis tent member of the Methodist church, battling as fiercely against the world, the flesh and the devil as she had been wont to fight against the enemies of her country. Gilmer says that when a boy, he had often seen the wreck of Nancy’s cabin lodged against some trees opposite his father’s plantation, on Broad river. It was left there by the great freshet of 1795, and continued for many years sus pended above high water mark. But it has long since been washed away, and not a trace is left of this reminder of the stirring scene in which Nancy acted so brave a part. David Dickson on Gotton Planting. The following is copied from a “Treat ise on Agriculture,” by David Dickson, Sparta, Ga. a work that should be in the hands of every farmer: 1. Lay off cotton rows four feet apart with shovel plow, double furrow; and put in fertilizers eight inches deep. 2. Ridge with long scooter five inches wide. Make the beds with turn plow, subsoil the turn plow furrow; split out the middles with shovel. Plant with a cotton seed sower, and cover with a board or harrow. First plowing—run 22 inch sweep with right wing turned down, hoe out to two to three stalks to the hill every nine inch es, teu days after plowing. Second plowing—use same sweep, the right wing turned up a little more. Third plowing —in the same way, run a third furrow in middle or levil. 3. Cotton standing thick in the drill will be much more forward in maturing. 4. Cotton only requires distance one way. 5. Be careful not to cut the roots of cotton. 6. Have a deep water furrow in the spring; work flat by hot weather. 7. On level land run the rows north and soath. 8. A cotton plant to stand two weeks drouth, must have four inches soil and six inches subsoil; three weeks—six inches soil and same subsoil; lour weeks —eight inches and the same subsoiling. 9. If you prepare your land and carry out this plan well, and manure liberally, you may expect from four hundred to one thousand pounds of lint cotton to the acre. 10. Fertilizers bring a crop of bolls on the cotton early. 11. To improve the cotton plant, se lect seed every year after the first pick ing up to the middle of October, taking the best stalks and the best bolls on the stalks. 12. On all farms there are some acres that produce cotton better than others. Seeds should always be selected from these spots. 13. Manure everywhere you plow and plant. Your labor will be more certainly rewarded. It pays to use manure, and it pays best on land that pays best with out it. 14. From the 10th to the 20th of April is the best to plant cotton. 15. Apply one half of all labor and land to the making of full supplies of all kinds that are needed on the farm, and enough to spare tor those engaged in other pursuits, and you will have more money than if the w r hole was employed in making cotton. 16. Leave no grass to bunch and cause a future bad stand. 17. Plow cotton every three weeks, and let the hoes come ten days behind, cleaning it perfectly. 18. Continue plowing cotton till the 15th or 20th of August. Once or twice during the season shove out the middle with a furrow, to keep the land level. 19. The plowing of cotton requires one and a fourth days per acre. 20. Cotton plants commence when small to take on and mature bolls, and continue until they exhaust the soluble matter or exhaust the full capacity of the land. Two stalks will do that much sooner than one, and will so avoid the drouth, catterpillar, etc. 21. Cotton will grow after cotton a number of years in succession, with plen ty of manure. 22. Make just the amount of cotton wanted, at paying prices. Keep out of debt, be the creditors, make your supplies at home; then and only then will you have ]>ower. 23. Rotation of crop, deep and deeper plowing every year, incorporation of veg etable molds, returning the proceeds of the cotton plant, except the lint, to the soil, making as much manure as possible, comprise my system of improving lands. 24. One subject in cultivation is, to keep the surface broken, so as to let in light, heat and air. Never stop the plows for dry weather. 25. My policy has been to make the most money with the least labor and cap ital, even if it appeared to be wasteful. 26. The cotton planter should make his own supplies, everything necessary to ran the fWrm. VOL I—NO. 2a DEVILTRIES. 4 ——• To make potatoes very mealy, pat them in old meal bag. W .y it an attorney like a laty man? Becau -e he lies too much and too long. “0 you be darned,” as a bachelor said while poking his toes through his sacking. A San Francisco horse has four feet on his tour-legs, and belong! to an in surance agent. The New York hats are said to remind the beholder of a Long Branch hotel—all piazza and band. A Missouri photographer advises farmers to have their pictures now when the tan is off. A Detroit girl “snatched immortali ty’s vest and mantled her spirit in light.” She forgot her corsets. “ The buds are swelling.” And the “ swells” are budding. The latter should leave first, but they don’t. Cicero said, “ The pursuit of all things should be calm and tranquil.” How about captured fleas ? “ All- the girls are becoming vege tarians. They wear turn-up hats.” And reddish noses and cherry lips. An Oneida man advertises for a ped dler who won’t swear. Next he will want a boy with feathers on his legs. A spruce gum famine is threatened in Massachusetts, and Boston girls are saving up their old India rubber shoes. A Detroit photographer says he'd rather fight a tiger with a snow-shovel than to see a baby come into his gallery. There is a young man in this village who thinks of going into the stock raising business. He has found a mare's nest. It is a painful sight to see the house fly get out of bed these mornings and hang around the cook-stove to warm his heels. “Sekrets,” says Billings,” “is a bad investment—if you pass it you loze the principal; and if you keep it you loze the interest.” A Milwaukee woman has been sick nearly a near, from fancying that she saw a kangaroo in the looking-glass while she was trying on anew bonnet. A lazy school boy who spelled An drew Jackson “ &ru Jaxon” has been equaled by a student who marked the first of a half dozen shirts “ John John son,” and the rest “do.” Mrs. Partington doesn’t see what fun there can be in spelling matches, about which all the Western papers are full. She always spells them m-a-t-c-h --e-s. Tom spells it the same way, too. A Brooklyn woman, who had just finished reading the last day’s “ testi mony,” went into a crockery store and told the clerk that she would like a little Beecher. It was a pitcher she wanted. Mr. Spinks is not going to do any more in conundrums. He asked his jfife why he was like a donkey ? and she said because he was born so; and he says that the answer is very different from that. A prominent Detroit Universalist, some months ago, married a red-headed widow with four children, and last week remarked to a friend, “ I was blind when I believed there was no hell. I see it now.” Customer —l want a mourning suit. Shopman—What is the bereavement, may I ask? Customer —My mother-in law. Shopman—Mr. Brown, show the gentleman to the light affliction depart ment. Talmadge says Brooklyn to-day eats scandal, drinks scandal, talks scandal, swears scandal, lies scandal, sleeps scan dal—to which may be added: moulds candle, sells candle, buys candle, lights candle, snuffs candle, aud blows caadle out. An exchange defines a blunderbuss as kissing the wrong girl; just as though it were possible to be wrong in kissing any girl. A blunderbuss is for men to kiss one another, as Frenchmen do, or for girls to kiss one another, as they of ten do, for want of a man to kiss them. A man who was sentenced to be hung was visited by his wife, who said: “My dear, would you like the children to see you executed?” “No,” replied he. “That’s just like you,” said she, “you never wanted the children to have any enjoyment.” The meanest man in this city lives on Jackson street. He cuts the accounts of the Beecher scandal out of the paper every morning and hides them in the Bible, to keep his wife and mother-in law from reading them. He says “they never look in that book,” and he tell* them “the dog chaws the paper full of holes.” An editor in Illinois, having engaged anew reporter, received the following as his first effort: “We are informed that the gentleman who stood on his head under a pile-driver for the purpose of having a tight pair of butes drove on, shortly after found himself in Cbinv, perfectly naked and without a cent in nis pocket” How curious it is that such trifling things will turn a person from matured plans or beaten paths. A friend of ours made up his mind to have anew pair of boots. Our friend is somewhat near sighted, but he is in need of boots all the same. He entered, and proceeded to sit down in a chair. But a wicked little bull dog lay asleep in that chair, and our friend suddenly changed his mind, and after visiting a surgeon he went to a tailor and got measured for a pair of pants.