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, a cKSON CO. PUB. COM’Y, )
Proprietors, \
VOLUME IV.
PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY.
ROBERT S. HOWARD, Editor and Publisher,
jEFFfiRSOX, JACKSON CO ., GA.
o
)FF ICK, n\ e. cob. public square, up-stairs.
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Jackson Cos. Mortgage Sheriff’s
Sale.
WILL he sold, on the first Tuesday in May
next, before the Court House door, in the
town of Jefferson, Jackson county, Ga., within
the legal hours of sale, the following property,
to-wit:
The plantation inherited by S. D. Mitchell from
his father, situated and being in said county of
Jackson and State of Georgia, known as the Giles
Mitchell place, containing eleven hundred acres,
more or less, lying west of Jefferson, the property
of said S. D. Mitchell, as described in a certain in
denture of mortgage, bearing date on the tenth
day of February, A. D., eighteen hundred and
seventy-six. Said plantation adjoins lands of N.
11. Pendergrass, J. M. Garner, Peter McLester
*nd others, ami is on the Middle Oconee river,
there being on said place a large quantity of fine
bottom land and good up-laml, a large portion of
which is in a high state of cultivation ; two good
residences, one being in or near Jefferson, the ,
other about two milesout—both on Lavvrcncevillc '
road; good out-buildings, tenant houses and other
improvements, orchards, well, etc., on the place.
Levied on and sold as the property of said S. D.
Mitchell, to satisfy a certain mortgage ti. fa. issu
ed from Jackson Superior Court in favor of Anna
K. Mitchell against S. 1). Mitchell. Property
pointed out in said mortgage li. fa. Written no
tice given Franklin Waddle and Win. Roberts,
tenants in possession, as the law directs.
mariS * T. A. McELH AXXOX, Sir If.
Jackson Sheriff’s Sales.
\VTI I.L be sold, on the first Tuesday in May
'I next, before the Court House door, in the
towm of Jefferson, Jackson county, Ga., within
the legal hours of sale, the following property,
to-wit:
Two hundred and twenty acres of land, more or
less, situate on the Mulberry river, in said coun
ty. adjoining lauds of E. Matthews, 1). R. Lvle
and wtliers; the place whereon T. C. Williams
now resides; said place known as a part of the
Burke Camp place; about one hundred acres in
cultivation, of which 30 or 35 acres are good bot
s*m lands, remainder in old fields and forest. On
said place is a good dwelling and out-houses.
Levied on as the property of T. C. Williams, by
virtue of and to satisfy a fi. fa. issued from the
Superior Court of Jackson county in favor of
Keesc A- Lane against said T. C. Williams. Writ
ten notice of said levy served on T. C. Williams,
defendant in ti. fa. and tenant in possession.
Also, at the same time and place, a stock of
roods, consisting of dry goods, boots, shoes, hats,
notions, Ac. Levied on and to be sold as the pro
perty of ILK. Moscly, defendant, by virtue of
and to satisfy a fi. fa. issued from Jackson Su
perior Court iii favor of .John S. Fairley & Cos. vs.
s i<i I>. It." Moscly. Property pointed out by
plaintiff's attorney.
Also, at tlie same time and place, sixty-nine
acres of land, more or less, on the waters of the
North Oconee river, in said county, adjoining
lands of S. 8. House, John Simpkins, E. J. Sharpe
•nd others; the place whereon J. 11. Burns now
resides. On said land is a good, comfortable
framed dwelling house and necessary out-build
ii'gs ; there is about thirty-five or forty acres of
land in a high state of cultivation, and about
twenty acres in original forest, the remainder in
field pine. Levied on as the property of J. 11.
burns, by virtue of and to satisfy a li. fa. issued
from the Superior Court of Jackson county, in
ttvorof J. N. Montgomery and Rufus Maroney,
Executors of Robert W. Pruitt, deceased, vs. said
<b 11. Burns. Fi. fa. now controlled by r I). J.
f handler. Property pointed out by the plaintiff.
W ritten notice served on J. 11. Burns, tenant in
possession, as the law directs.
Also, at the same time and place, will he sold
* certain town lot in the town of Jefferson, Jack
son county. Ga., whereon Peter McLester now
resides, and in whose possession it now is, con
fining one acre, more or less, whereon there is a
comfortable two-story wood building dwelling
house and other improvements, a well of good
"'■■'tor, kitchen, Ac.; the wood building is not
completed. Said lot bounded on the west or front
side by Washington street, on the south by lot of
• A. Worsham, on the east or hack side by
'ytlker street, and on the north by cross alley,
u being the house wherein and the lot whereon
•■anl Peter McLester now resides. Levied on as
the property of said Peter McLester, defendant,
to satisfy four several tax fi. fas., including in
terest and cost on each and the same, issued by
L. Williamson, Tax Collector of Jackson coun
*-'• La., for tax due by said Peter McLester for
the years 1875, IS7G, *1877 and 1878. Property
pointed out by said J. L. Williamson, Tax Collec
tor of Jackson county, plaintiff. Levy made and
banded me by W. F. Hunter, L. C. Written no
t'ce given to Peter McLester, defendant, tenant in
possession, as required by law.
Also, at the same time and place, will he sold
a the right, title and interest of C. C. Thompson
,n ond to a certain tract or parcel of land, situated
ami lying in the county of Jackson, on the waters
nl the South Oconee river, adjoining lands of
Stephen Roberts, J. E. Randolph, J. N. Pinson
An, l others, containing eighty or ninety acres,
tuore or less. Levied on by virtue of and tosatis
-v :i h. la. issued from the County Court of Jack
in county in favor of Summey & Newton vs. C.
• 1 hompson. Property pointed out bv plaintiff.
a pH T. A. McE LI IA N NON, Sheriff.
Executor’s Sale.
A LRKEABLY to an order of the Honorable
Court of Ordinary for Jackson county, will
■ K> so 'd, before the Court House door in JetFerson,
" a .'d county, within the legal hours of sale, on
ie first Tuesday in May next, the following de
‘ cri,, ed tract or parcel of land, lying in Banks
‘ ‘Unity, and known as a fractional part of lots Nos.
]'* a,l ‘l GS. cut off the west ends of said two lots of
f n, L Said fifty acres unimproved, and lies near
of the Air-Line and Northeastern
pi P^ at °f sa 'd land can he seen in the
i( TK s office Jackson Superior Court. Sold as
rne property of the estate of Jonathan Martin,
1 ‘ ceased, for the purpose of distribution. Terms,
cash - T. N. 11l Gil FILL. Ex’r of
a l ) G the last will of Jonathan Martin, dcc'd.
THE FOREST NEWS.
The People their own Rulers; Advancement in Education, Science, Agriculture and Southern Manufactures.
SELECT MISCELLANY.
THE LOST WIFE.
Y\ hat a commotion there was in society !
llow everybody stared and looked shocked
as the news spread like wildfire ! ITarmon
TJlis had actually married a poor farmer’s
daughter, beautiful as an houri, but penniless
and utterly ignorant.
“All! what height of folly!” everybody
exclaimed; and no doubt everybody was
right. For the polished, highly cultivated
Harmon Ellis to marry a poor girl was bad
enough ; but one wholly uneducated was, in
deed, a dangerous experiment. He had not
for a moment thought of it! He had only
seen her in the rude kitchen or dreary parlor
of her country home, and there she was as
graceful and easy in her manners as the most
faultless devotee of fashion. She was, in
deed, beautiful. Large black eyes and rosy
cheeks ; a little month whose cherry lips seem
ed made to kiss; long wavy hair of midnight
hue ; and dimpled hands and arms that might
serve for a model. And Harmon Ellis, as he
gazed upon her artless loveliness, forgot that
he was not a farmer, and that his wife should
be fitted to shine in the polished circles of
fashion. So he made Susie Hyde his wife,
and mistress of his elegant residence in
Shropshire.
It was summer, and the house was filled
with visitors. Harmon had invited a cousin
of his to assist Susie in her onerous duties of
hostess, thinking that she, with a woman’s
tact and kindness of heart, would initiate his
wife into the duties of her new position, and
hide any deficiencies or awkward blunder
which might occur. But, poor man, he had
not counted upon the jealousy which a home
ly woman always feels for a beautiful one!
Rose Duval was genteel and well bred, but
she was decidedly plain-looking ; and she was
virging towards her thirties, and was y'et un
establislied, she naturally felt sour and cross,
and very envious of the lovely young wife.
So Harmon only increased the evil which he
had hoped to remedy.
Susie passionately loved her husband. She
looked up to him with such respect that her
love mingled with fear. She was painfully
apprehensive of doing something that would
not he au fait, and consequently increased
tenfold her natural embarrassment, and be
came clumsy and awkward. She did at first
timidly appeal to Rose Duval for advice in
the numerous domestic perplexities that be
wildered her, but she only met with indiffer
ent and contemptuous replies. And, indeed.
Rose lost no opportunity to vex and mortify
her, especially in the presence of company.
Poor Susie grew very unhappy and wretched,
and escaped from the presence of society on
every pretext.
They had been three months married, and
had as yet given no general entertainment.
Hannon had delay’ed it that his wife might
get a little accustomed to her new position.
But he felt that, in justice to his friends, he
could delay it no longer, and cards were is
sued to all the elite of the surrounding neigh-
D O
borhood.
The reports of the extreme beauty of Susie
had spread far and near, and the grand party
was at once the principle topic of conversa :
tion. Poor Susie looked forward to it with
fear and trembling. She began to feel that
she had entered a sphere for which she was
unfitted ; and that, tenderly as she loved her
husband, she would only disgrace him by her
improprieties of speech and manner.
The eventful evening at last arrived, and
Susie was waiting in the library for her hus
band to escort her to the drawing-room. She
had taken great pains with her attire, and
looked exquisitely charming. She wore a
rich silk of deep pink, with lace overdress.
Her hair, which hung in natural ringlets to
the waist, was confined by a diamond coro
net, and diamonds sparkled on her snowy
neck and arms, but she looked pale with sup
pressed excitement, and she gave a weary
little sigh as she thought how much happier
she would be if she and Harmon could only'
live by themselves and give up all this pomp
and splendor.
Rose Duval, as she passed the door caught
the sigh, and pushing open the door, exclaim
ed : “What is the matter, ray dear, that y’ou
sigh so pitifully?” her heart almost bursting
with hate as she felt herself totally and help
lessly eclipsed beside the marvelous beauty
of the young bride.
“Oh,” said Susie, excitedly, “ l dread this
evening so much. I wish I could stay up
stairs.”
“ You might, and not be missed, unless
you are more entertaining than usual,” said
Rose Duval tauntingly, sweeping out of the
room.
Stung to the heart by this cruel speech,
Susie could scarcely' control the rising tears,
and when her husband came for her, a few
minutes later, she looked so sad and distress
ed that, gently taking her hand and imprint
ing a kiss upon her trembling lips, he said,
“ What grieves you, dearest ? Are y’ou ill ?”
She raised her eves to his face and tried
to choke back her emotion.
“ 0> lam only nervous at the thought of
seeing so many strangers.”
“Is that all, darling ? It is trying at first,
JEFFERSON, JACKSON COUNTY, GA., FRIDAY, APRIL 25,1879.
but summon up all your courage, and you
will soon feel at ease. Try to be more self
reliant and dignified, and my precious little
wife will soon be famed for her polished man
ners as well as for her beauty.”
Re-assured by bis kind, loving words, Susie
proceeded to the drawing-room with some de
gree of composure, Put before the evening
was half over she longed to rush away, any
where so that she was out of sight. She could
neither sing nor dance, and she was too wor
ried and confused to converse. She clung to
her husband’s arm so persistently, and seem
ed so agitated if any gentleman attempted to
take lus place, that soon every one avoided
her and ignored her presence altogether.
Annoyed and disconcerted at the extreme
nervousness which she displayed, ITarmon
quietly told her she had better retire, and es
corted her to her room, apologizing to the en
quiring guests as best he could for her ab
sence, saying that she was ill. As soon as
her husband left her, Susie, whose heart was
overflowing with mortification and grief, threw
herself upon a couch, and, burying her face
in the pillows, wept convulsively. When
Harmon came up a few hours later, she was
fast asleep. He bent over her, and forgot his
vexation at the sight of her tear-stained
face.
“ Poor, timid creature!” he tnurtnered. “I
fear I was wrong to transplant the wayside
flower to the unwholesome confinement of ar
tificial life.”
lie sat long before he retired, and seemed
in a moody and sad meditation.
Susie slept calmly, for she had, during the
past few hours, come to brave though lieart
breaking resolution. She had determined to
leave her husband. Y"es, bitter though the
trial was, she felt that she must disgrace him
no longer, and she had fully decided to seize
the first opportunity that offered.
Harmon arose early in the morning, for he
had to take an early train to town to fulfil a
business appointment. He kised the pallid
face of his still sleeping wife, and before the
household was astir was on his way to Lon
don. 'The next morning Susie received a
letter from him, saying that lie would neces
sarily be delayed much longer than he had
anticipated, and that probably he would not
return for a week.
“ Now is the time,” thought Susie, as she
read the letter, “ for my flight.” She set
about her preparations with feverish haste,
fearing that if she stopped to consider, her
courage would melt away. She wrote a short
letter to her husband, and placed it where he
would be sure to see it, then dressed herself
in her plainest suit, and, drawing a thick veil
over her face, noiselessly and unperceived
left the house. When the dinner bell rang
and she did not appear, Rose Duval merely
gave her shoulders a contemptuous shrug,
and plainly intimated that she could do very
well xvitout her company ; but when she fail
ed to appear by noon of the next day she be
gan to be alarmed. She sent for Susie’s maid,
and she commenced at once to cry', for she
had become very closely attached to her gen
tle mistress.
“Oh, Miss Rose,” said she, wringing her
hands, “ something dreadful must have hap
pened. I have knocked and knocked, and
listened at the door, and I cannot hear a sin
gle sound. She must either be sick or dead.”
Here she broke out afresh.
“When did y T ou see her last?” said Rose
Duval.
“l'esterday morning, after she received
Mr. Ellis’ letter, she looked pale and sad, and
told me to leave her and not disturb her un
less she rang the beli; So I did not go near
the door until next morning, and then every
thing seemed so still that I felt troubled
about the poor lady'. So I knocked, but re
ceived no answer. I tried the door but found
it locked, and I have been there a dozen
times this morning but have heard no sound
in the room.”
She sobbed loudly.
“Hush your noise, girl,” said Rose, “and
go and get a blacksmith to bring toob to pick
a lock.”
She flew to do her bidding, and quickly re
turned with a workman. They proceeded to
Susie’s room, and soon the door yielded to
the workman’s tools. They rushed in, all
excited, expecting to see her lying either
ghastly in death or in palid insensibility, but
she was nowhere to be seen. Astonished,
they gazed around, and the quick e\'c of Rosa
detected Susie’s letter to her husband lying
on the dressing table. She picked it up and
read the superscription.
“ Here is a letter to Mr. Ellis,” said she ;
“no doubt it explains her absence. She has
taken one of her freaks, and gone off on a
visit to some of her low-born relatives, I dare
say. However, I will write immediately to
my' cousin and enclose this from his wife.”
So saying, she left the room, and soon
Susie’s letter was speeding along to her un
suspecting husband.
Harmon Edis was sitting in a parlor of a
London hotel, when the voice of a servant,
** Letter, sir” recalled him from a waking dream
of his sweet young wife. The disappoint
ment which he had felt at her failure to shine
among lib fashionable acquaintances had
faded away, and, short although his absence
had been, lie was impatient to return to press
his darling Susie to his heart, lie mechani
cally opened the letter, but his indifference
soon gave way to ominous alarm. He tore
open his wife’s short note, and there read with
agony of mind that she had fled from him :
“ Dearest Harmon :—Oh, it is a bitter
word to write ‘Farewell!’ but it must be.
Forgive me, darling, for ever causing you a
moment’s grief. I, who would willingly die
for y'ou, am going awa3 r , so that I will never
disgrace von more. Y"ou will sorrow for me
and seek me ; but it will be useless. Try' to
forget me and be happy without
“ Your miserable wife,
' Suste.”
“Gone Igone !my wife !It cannot—it shall
not be ! I will search to the ends of the
earth for my poor sensitive darling.”
He forgot business, everything, and took
the first train forborne, hoping he might there
find some cine to guide him in his search.
But he gained nothing. No one had seen her
depart, and she left no trace behind her save
her letter, and that told nothing of her desti
nation. But Harmon was not daunted ; he
could but believe that he would be able to
trace her, poor, unprotected wanderer. He
visited her old home, but they knew nothing
of her flight; and he traveled hither and
thither with fervent haste, and spent money
with a prodigal hand ; but alas ! of no avail.
Two months passed away, and no news of
his lost love, and his hopes, so eager and ex
pectant at first, now began to fade away.
Tortured by cruel fears for her safety, and
worn out by restless anxiety and his constant
traveling, his health at last gave way, and
his consciousness wandered in the delirium
of brain fever.
There was great bustle and confusion in
the mansion of Mrs. Herbert, situated in one
of the most fashionable streets in the West
End. She was making hasty preparations
for a protracted visit to France. She was a
childless widow, and of late years seemed
restless, and fond of frequent journey’s. The
old servants whispered among themselves
that she was beginning, at last, to feel the in
justice of reveling in unbounded wealth when
her only sister was in destitute circum
stances.
She was sitting in her room, superintend
ing the packing of innumerable trunks, when
a servant entered, and said that a lady wished
to see her. A shade of displeasurfe crossed
her face.
“Didn’t I tell y’ou that I wouldn’t see any'
one to-day'?”
“ I beg your pardon, ma’am ; but the young
lady seemed so agitated, and she begged so
earnestly to see you, that I had not the heart
to refuse.”
“ Well, well,” said she, “ show her into the
library', and I will see her.”
She went down immediately. Upon enter
ing the room, a pale, trembling girl arose,
and was about to speak, when Mrs. Herbert,
with a cry of joy exclaimed, “ My dear sister!”
and clasped Susie Ellis to her breast.
She forgot the lapse of y'ears, and for a
moment, imagined that her younger sister
had returned just as she left twenty years
ago.
“Not sister, dear aunt, but neice,” said
Susie, through her tears; and then followed,
with many a heart-breaking sob, the story of
her unfortunate marriage and her flight.
“I know, dear aunt,” she concluded, “that
you once loved my dear mother, and I felt
that you would give me shelter and counsel.”
“Yes, yes, my dear, I have long mourned
over the injustice done to my sister for the
foolish, yet not unpardonable sin of marry’-
ing beneath her station ; and I will aid you
all in my r power to overcome your difficulties,
and enable you to return to your husband, a
self-possessed, elegant woman. What are
y’our plans, dear ?”
“Oh,” said she, hesitatingly, “I thought
that perhaps I could study' hard oh, I
wouldn't mind how hard—and learn a great
deal, so that I could return to my dear hus
band in, perhaps, two or three years.”
“There’s no doubt of it,” said Mrs. Herbert,
kissing her pale, wistful face. “You have
greatly undervalued yourself, my dear, and
have been shamefully treated by' Rose Duval.
I know her well, and a more selfish, disa
greeable person I never met with. I wonder
at y'our husband’s short-sightedness in provid
ing her for your chaperon.”
“Oh,” said Susie, “he thought her polished
and elegant in her manners, and he did not
know her cold, unfeeling heart.”
“ Well, dear, I depart to-morrow for France ;
you shall go with me. Once there, I will
provide y’ou with music and dancing masters,
and it is very little else you will need in the
way of study. Do not be surprised, dear ;
you have been laboring under the mistaken
idea that to be a happy wife and a polite
hostess you need a book education. This is
erroneous. There’s many a woman filling
the position with grace and dignity, in the
best society, who knows no more of books
than the simplest school girl. You have too
sensitive a nature, and, having no true friend
to give y'uu wholesome encouragement and
advice, you brooded upon your deficiencies
until you became morbidly and unreasonably
sensitive.”
1 hree weeks after Susie left her husband's
roof found her and her aunt established in an
elegant villa in the South of France. Mrs.
Herbert had engaged teachers of music and
dancing, and also a governess to assist and
direct her in a course of general reading.
They lived in quiet seclusion, and Susie
devoted herself assiduously to her studies.
Two years passed quickly away, and Mrs.
Herbert saw with delight and astonishment
the rapid progress of her neice. She could
now dance gracefully and play charrainglv
upon the piano. She had a full, sweet so
prano voice, and sang with taste and feeling.
She had also perused many standard works
with great pleasure and profit.
“ Susie,” said her aunt, one day, “ I think
you may now safely make your second debut
in society. You have succeeded in your
studies beyond ray expectations, and I shall
be proud to introduce you among my friends.”
“ Oh, dear aunt, that is the most trying
ordeal of all!”
“Ah, Susie! you will not find it so diffi
cult under my guidance and protection. You
will soon become self-possessed, and able
to conduct yourself with ease and dignity,
and then we will seek the dear one for whom
I know you are pining. You can appear as
Mrs. Dallas, taking the maiden name of your
mother.”
It was towards the close of a mild, balmy
day in the autumn, that Ilarmon Ellis alight
ed before the Hotel Maurice, in Paris. He
had journeyed restlessly from place to place
for the past two years, vainly seeking to
drown the regretful memories of his long lost
wife. Although the hope of ever seeing her
had long since passed away, lie had never
ceased to love and lament her.
Entering the hotel, he was about to order
a room and dinner, when lie was startled by
a heavy slap upon the back.
“Ah. Ellis, my dear friend, how are you ?
I saw you from my window, and hastened
down to greet y’ou.”
“Oh, Harvey, is it you? lam so glad to
see a familiar face.”
“ Well, then, come up to my room and
dine with me. I was just going to sit down.”
So up 9tairs they went and were soon dis
cussing dinner and the news at the same
time.
“Oh,” said Harvey Caldwell, “it is very
lively here just now. Paris is quite flooded
with English visitors. Lots of handsome wo
men, Init there is one who, by Jove, eclipses
them all. She is the loveliest woman I ever
saw. She has turned the heads of half the
men in Paris. She is the neice of a rich old
lady, Mrs. Herbert. You must see her, Har
mon. Mrs. Herbert gives a grand ball to
morrow evening. Say you will go and I will
see that you have cards. Mrs. Herbert is an
old friend of ray mother’s, and she can easily
manage it.”
Ilarmon moodily' sipped his coffee, and
said, “ I do not much care for such gay scenes.
However, T will go and see this paragon of
beaut}’/’
The next evening, as Ilarmon and his
friend Caldwell entered the crowded drawing
O
room of Mrs. Herbert, Susie was singing in
a sweet but powerful voice a pathetic little
ballad. She sang with great feeling, and
Ellis* cheeks flushed and paled under the in
fluence of that musical voice. Why did it
affect him so, and why did it conjure up the
dear image of his self-sacrificing wife ? The
music ceased, and all his apathy gone, he
pushed forward, as eager as his friend Cald
well to see the lovely singer. At last the
crowd separated, and in a moment he stood
face to face with his wife. Yes, it was she;
and in the transport of the moment, he almost
rmlied forward and clasped her to his bosom.
The voice of Caldwell restored in a measure
his composure.
“ Allow me to present my friend, Mr. Ellis
—Mrs. Dallas ; Mrs. Dallas—Mr. Ellis.”
Susie bowed, trembling and agitated.
Noticing her paleness, Ilarmon said : “The
room is warm and oppressive. Allow me to
escort you to the conservatory, where it is
cooler.”
Susie eagerly took his arm ; and, as they
moved away, he whispered, “my own dear
wife.”
“ Not there ! not there !” said Susie, as he
turned toward the conservatory, •• there are
too many there,” and she led him to the
library.
Once in the library, he closed the dt>or, and
Susie sank almost fainting in his outstretch
ed arms. He kissed her hair, her eyes, her
lips, in the ecstacy of his joy.
“ I've found you at last, my darling, my
love! Oh, why did you leave me? It al
most broke my heart!”
“Ah. dear Harmon, I could no longer en
dure the slights and covert sneers of your
friends and acquaintances. I felt myself a
disgrace and dishonor to you. and oh, my
husband ! you cannot know the cruel suffer
ing I experienced in tearing myselffrom your
dear presence.”
“My poor, aggrieved pet!” he said, draw
ing her upon his lap, and kissing away her
tears.
And there, in the safe shelter of his arms,
she recounted the history of her flight, of the
motherly kindness of her aunt, of her two
years’ laborious study, and of her second ap
pearance in society.
S TERMS, $1.50 PER ANNUM.
( SI.OO For Six Months.
Big GUns and Big Ships.
Thefe is a big gun in India—or a gun
which long ago was thought to be 1 rig—ami
w hich on a memorable occasion some years
back was fired witli a heavy Charge. It i$
generally supposed in the neighborlmod that
the ball is flying yet. The new lvrupp gun,
which is to be tried next Saturday at Meppeu,
in Westphalia, may not rival this, but it will
certainly surpass all other guns. This gj#it
is 32 feet long and weighs 72tons. Its charge
is 385 pounds of prismatic powder, and it Is
to throw a chilled iron shell of 1,660 pounds.
It is asserted that this monstrous cannon, if
set to an angle of forty-three degrees to the
horizon, will throw a ball a distance of fifteen
miles. The material is steel, and the piece
is heavier by sixteen tons than the heaviest
Krupp guns heretofore made. Guns as well
as ships still run to bigness, and it is hard
to say when the tendency will be arrested.
It was thought after the partial failure of the
Great Eastern that a reaction would take
place in favor of small ships. For a time
there were signs of this, but only for a time ;
and now the movement is decidedly toward
greater size. The newest steamship of the
W illiams & Guion Line is, we believe, the
largest, though not the longest, of the Atlantic
fleet, and a still larger vessel is to be built
this year on the Clyde.
A Boy’s Hard Sunday.
The head of a boy about ten years old
might have been seen sticking through a
picket fence on Beaubien street Sunday even
ing. as a loud “j'alilioo !” signal was given by
someone in the house. A lad of “ there
abouts finally opened the door, and came
out and asked :
“Is that yon, Jim ? What yer want V ’
“ 1 didn t see ye down where we was riding
on cakes of ice in the slip.” replied the other!
“ I know ye didn’t. This has bin tlve hardest
Sunday I ever put in cm earth,”
“ I)ad .sick ?*’
“ No, dad’s in Saginaw, but ma'm got some
gold in her front teeth yesterday, and she was
bound to go to church to-day if it killed her.
I had to run all over and burry tilings for her,
and then stay at home and take care of sis.”
“Is it real gold, Jim ?”
“ I guess so, for she went in the morning,
then in the afternoon, then to a lecture, ami
now she's gettin - ready for the evenin’ ser
mon, an’ practicin’ on snowin’ her front teeth.
I m goin’ to run away as soon as grass starts !”
— Detroit. Free Press.
Meeting of Strange Monkeys.
About a year ago five chimpanzees, or orang
outangs, a species of monkey nearest re
sembling human beings, were brought to the
New York Aquarium, of which only one now
remains. On Saturday afternoon another
arrived from Central Africa, and there was
much curiosity to see how the two creatures
would act at their first meeting. When the
stranger was put in the cage, “ Tommy,” the
old inhabitant, looked at him Tor a moment
with some little distrust, then lie approached
nearer, and after a little hesitation threw one
arm over his shoulder in a manner that wa*
almost human. They looked in eacli other’s
eves with serious faces, and then clasping
their long arms about each other, embraced.
Then they separated, and “Tommy”extended
his hand, which the new-comer took and
shook. Then “ Tommy” offered the courtesies
of his blanket and the remains of his dinner.
When the new arrival was given his first bath
he objected strongly, and fought against soap,
and water, and brush, and comb like an ob
stinate child, while “Tommy** looked on in
apparent glee. At 10 o’clock at night the
new chimpanzee was wrapped up in his
blanket, sleeping soundly, and “Tommy/*
with his blanket pulled up over his shoulders,
sat a few feet away, watching him with great
solicitude.— New York Star.
Poor But Respectable.
This is the way it is played : A man past
the prime of life, poorly dressed and having
a mournful quiver in his voice, takes two old
oyster cans, partly fills them with sand, does
them up in neat shape, and selecting a house
he calls the lady to the door and says i
“Madam, I am old and poor, hut I’m not
a thief. I found these oyster cans on the
street, and won't you be good enough to
keep ’em till the owner calls?’
“ Why. the owner may never call/* replies
the lady.
“ That’s so ; but Urn not able to buy milk
and crackers even if I bad oysters ; you‘d
better keep ’em awhile anyhow. If no one
comes the cans are yours.”
Sometimes the old man makes a quarter,
and sometimes only a bite to eat. The owner
does not arrive, and the family prepares for
fried oysters for supper. When the paper is
torn off some folks laugh—and some don’t.
Some say they’ll hunt over every rod of
ground in the United States but that they’ll
find the old man and make ldm eat the fast
srrain of sand and the can to boot,— Detroit
Free Press.
Some of our exchanges are publishing as
a curious item, a statement to the effect that
a horse in lowa pulled the plug out of the
bung hole of a barrel for the purpose of slak
ing his thirst. \\ edo not see anything very
extraordinary in the occurrence. Now, if the
horse had pulled the barrel out of the bung
hole and slaked his thirst with the plug; or,
if the barrel had pulled the hung hole out of
the plug and slaked its thirst With the horse ;
or, if the plug had pulled the horse out of the
barrel and slaked its thirst with the bn tig.
hole ; or, if the bung-hole had pulled the thirst
out of the horse and slaked the plug with the
barrel; or, if the barrel had pulled the horse
out of the bung h<*le and plugged its thirst
with the slake, it might he worth while to
make some fuss about it.
■
He who in mind and genius is a great man,
who unites a strong intellect with a tender
heart, and besides, possesses a command of
imagery and a taste for the beautiful, is a
great artist. All the gifts of mind aud heart
must be united in order to form a great geni
us for the arts. Accordingly, we should not
wonder that artists of the first rank are so few
in number and so rarely seen.
NUMBER 46.