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g0COCK, GRAHAM & REILLY,
I
DEVOTED TO NEWS, POLITICS AND QENESAL PBOOBESS—INDEPENDENT IN ALL THINGS.
TERMS:
Tl\ree Dollars a Year,
1 PAYABLE D( AOYAICI,
Volume 18.
AMEEIOUS, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, JUNE 9.1871.
Number 16.
SUITES REPUBLICAN.
l FRIDAY MORNINO.
K-k, Orabam & IlclUy.
TERMS OP SUBSCRIPTION :
$3 00
ji Month®. ®
< Months, 1 CO
PAYMENTS always to be made
Itatca of AdTcrtlklng.
t $qa*re, , * n,t * u »crtion,
ijSfEsiisrsassi
..II c
50
r Minion typo, solid, conati-
H-nta not contracted for will be
^UwrtUnientM not specifying the length ol
' jrvhieh they are to be inserted will l»e con-
until ordered oat and charged for accord-
ta to occupy fixed plac
.A-sl 25 per cent above regular rate
Vocra in local column inserted f<
w pcr line each insertion.
11 be
•Men of Onardian»hip,.
tin. of Dismission -
^plication f<>r leave to aoll rual c
J; 4 Heal Estcte,
J\ i( * to Debtors and Creditors,
..'nfrv Sale, {per levy)
Professional Cards.
HAWKINS & BURKE.
t l,orn.y» »t
Americtu, Geergir.
Jno. D. CARTER,
iTTGHSST AT LAW.
America!, Georgia.
C. T. GOODE,
.Attorney at Law
AMERICUS, GEORGIA.
jffice over W. T. Davenport’s Drug store.
Forget thee! Ask the violet blue,
In yonder dowry bed,
If it forgets the pearly dew
That trembles on its head.
Forget thee! Ask the vesper star.
That gilds the evening skies,
If, in the blazing amplitude,
It e'er forgets to rise.
Forget thee ! At-k the bird of flight,
With rich and glossy wing,
If it forgets the moorland green
Of sweet and early spring.
Forget thee ! Ask the blushing roao
That opens its petals fair, —
If it forgets the rain that throws
Its fragrant moisture there.
Forget thee ! Ask the blighted heart,
Bereft of every friend,
If it forgets the holy spot
Where weeping willows bend.
Forget thee! Ask the mother now,
With sad and tearful eyes,
If she forgets her cherub's brow,
So guileless in the skies.
Forget thee ! Ask the harping throng
That fill fhe courts ou high,
If they forget to sing their song
Of triumph through the sky.
Forget thee 1 Ask the child of light,
Wreathed with undying flowers,
If lie forgets the wreathlet bright.
Culled from celestial bowers.
Forget thee ! I can ne'er forget
A face so sweet os thine ;
Thine image is forever set
Within this heart of mine ;
And when 'neath other skies I be,
And brave the ocean's foam,
Florence my thoughts will turn to thee—
To thee and thy bright home.
JACK BROWN.
Attornoy at 3j» w
AMERICUS, OA.
it Office in Court Houno with Judge Stan
Mi feb 16 tf.
N. A. SMITH,
Mtornoy at Xj a w,
W ILL practice in the Court- ofSnmtei
adjoining Counties, and in Circait Court of
Cut*! States.
lr < iffioe on College street, next to Repnbli-
u ..ffl.-e.__ feb 25 tf.
SAMUEL LUMPKIN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
OFFICE TSDEft BARLOW HOUSE.
AMERICUS OA.
tVlil practice in all the Courts of 8. W. Oa.
by permission, to Dr. Win. A. Greene.
I I. IIVKISN. DUPONT aUKURT
EAWKINS & GUERRY,
Attorneys-at-Law,
Ail UlICU.S, OA.,
ir pmfisBional service# to the public,
inu* to tiraotice in 8umt«r and adjoin-
•»'*, and in United States Circuit and
V.urts at Savannah. Particular atten*
Office—corner College
r Gran berry & Co’s.
Phillip Cook,
Attorney at Law,
AMERICUS. GEORGIA.
WILL practice in the Counties of Ml ,
i .Pointer, Lee, Webster, Schley and Dooly.
u ". m i®-* Supreme Court of Georgia,
ir OmcE in Waxelbaam’a Building Next
DR. D. P. HOLLOWAY
.dentist.
GF.OnGIA.
A. Weight's Millinery
DR- WILLIAM A. GREENE,
AMBB1CVS. GKOBOIA
PSPai to “erre his friends of Americas
v W4 HomiunLug countrv in all U
't-taofhia profeewon. i
Dr. J. B. HINKLE
WOULD again tender his services (in all the
° ftbeProfeMioD ) the good
Americas md Bum ter count/, and so-
EJA “? Ucu w> oe .of the liberal peti
Dvatoaod upon him.
u_ lT®” alt *ntion given to Surgery.
^J^narten at the Drug Stan of Dr. - -.
ih*p,5.’ "‘'“‘knee in the house known as
r ttr house, nearty opposite A. A. Adam
Jane 8tf
MEDICAL CARD.
D\S5£ Ki ? y - ^ITH woqUI Inform lilt
tho P ubli c generally, that be
ofiice to the room over B. A.
w f P on ^b°neTy establishment. En-
wX^^i e HaU. Where ho will
'yJ dutr * u tu ? M - unl «“ absent on profes-
iSjcj. I he solicits his old friends and the
•!*rf„£l nerxlJ )' to call on him, promising to
IS S 7 ^ to the best of his ability.
Dr. S B. HAWKINS.
id 1 UI FICE >t Dr. EUrid*.'. Drug Slum.
tho Uethodut Church.
. rue, X .guu tender th. good people of
iu 2?; ,“ J “'“‘VJ gcnemUj*
Notice-
T a [-Lutnct Court for Webster county wifi be
uVp v n Ul * Second Monday in every month
* r «“>third Monday in May.
ln „ „ J.E. BLOUNT,
J£iitf D . c 12th Disk
*■^UicoHujc. w. t. nut
McLaughlin & Burt,
^.DENTISTS.
MIEIUCU8, GEORGIA.
(FJS ™ Uau Street, oror C. W. Felder
" Patronage aolidted. Prices
*'*“*’* ay 5 3m lm*
Front
BROWN HOUSE,.
t*f Passenger Depot, Macon, Ga.,
^ W. F. BROWN & CO.,
Proprietors.
Mlsoolli
Sermon for Young Polks.
DT ELI.A A. SCHOFIELD.
Don't ever go hunting for pleasure
They can not be found thus, I know;
Nor yet fall a digging for treasures,
Unless with the spade and the hoe.
The bee has toworkfor the honey,
The drone has no right to the food,
And he who has qot earned his money
Will get of his money no good.
The ant builds her house with her labor,
The squirrel looks out for his mast,
And he who depends on his neighbor
Will never have friends first or last.
In short, 'tis no better than thieving—
Though thief is a harsh name to call—
Good things to be always receiving,
And never to give back at all.
And do not put off till to-morrow
The things that you ought to do now,
But straight set the shares in the furrow,
And then set your hand to tho plough.
The time is too short to be waiting.
The day maketh haste to the night,
Aud it's just as hard to be hatiag
Your work as to do it outright
Know this, too, befbre you are older,
And all the fresh morning is gone—
Who puts to the world's wheel a shoulder
Is he that will move the world on.
Don’t weary out will, by delaying.
And when you are crowded don't stop;
Believe me, there's truth in the saying,
••There always is room at the top!”
To conscience and all men be true,
Keep faith, hope and love in your breast,
And when you have done all you can do,
Why then you may trust for the rest.
Tlie Lease Not Yet Fixed.
The loose of the Macou os Western
Railroad, n seems, cannot yet be regard
ed os a fixed tact, us the stockholders
have yet to pass upon the matter,
and a tremendous opposition to the
ratification is being mane. T e Macou
& Brunswick road is stockholdei
Macon & Western, to the amount of
about three quarters of a million of dol
lars. All of to is stock will, very natur-
all, be emphatically opposed to a con
summation of the lease. We have also
heard of several individual holders of
amounts of stock who al o strenuously
oppose the lease.
Basing an opinion upon the informa
tion at hand, we think we can see a very
lively contest qyer tho question, and it
is by no means improbable that the
btock holders may refuse to give their
sanction to the transaction. The matter
before'the Board of Directors, we are
informed, was handled with a marked
degree of unanimity, aud without acri
monious discussion. The stockholders
will pass upon the matter in a few days,
and not until then will the question he
considered as definitely settled.
A great deal of the opposition grows
out of the fact that the Macon aud Bruns
wick company, through Mr. ilazlehurst,
made a better bid thau that at which the
road was leased. It is held that tan per
cent, per annum is the best that.can be
expected . from the present contract;
while the 'Macon and Brunswick offer
twelva. per cent. It is also further
claimed thaV the $750,000 of stock, owned
by the Macon Brunswick company, is
sufficient surety^fox the regular payment
BURIED AUVE BY A SHELL.
A THKILLIN'Q STORY OP THE WAIL
. Among the dismal incidents of the war,
one is related by a French correspond
ent which was attended by circumstan
ces of peculir horror. It occurred at
Strasbourg,, during. the siege, and the
hero of it was a wealthy merchant there.
His gentleman, on the approach of the
enemy, sent away his wife and children,
but could not himself be prevailed upon
to abandon his property. Of this he
possessed a great deal. He had been
toiling for many years to gain the money
which had bought his warehouses and
shops, and several of these on the break
ing out ot the war were full of valuable
goods. The most bulky articles he se
cured as well os he was able, and taking
his plates and jewels to the cellar of one
of his houses, he prepared that place as
his stronghold. Remote as he consider
ed it, from the line of fire, and well eon
cealed from pillage, he thought there to
weather tho coming storm in safety. To
this end ho laid iu a stock of provisions,
and with one or two trusty dependents,
prepared to endure the interruption of
his business and the misfortunes of his
conntiy with what patience he coold.
For the first eight days of the bombard
ment, all went well. Ho shot or other
missels disturbed that immediate neigh
borhood, and although the bable of noise
and destruction elsewhere was indescriba
ble, no harm came to the citizen’s sanc
tuary. Ou the ninth day there came c
change. A shell dropped in the street
before the dwelling, and broke all the
windows ou the first floor. The
chant thought it now time to retreat to
the cellar. Hence on tho tenth day
taking, aU liis supplies of food and all the
l>ook8 he could find, ho bade farewell to
daylight and decended to the vanlts be
low bis house ; and here while the din of
buttle went on ceaselessly over his head,
the worthy merchant passed his days and
evenings in reading by the light of a pe
troleum lamp.
A few days passed in safety and com
parative quiet. But on Saturday, about
while the recluse was taking his
dinner, there came suddenly an appal-
ing crash overhead. The walls above
tumbling into rnin ; a part
of the cellar walls toppled in ; there was
a horrid cry, then choking dust, silence
and utter darkness. A tremendous shell
had fallen through the house above,
iud exploding, had scattered devastation
around. The merchant ran as best he
could to the stairway. It was completely
blocked and filled by parts of the fallen
walls. Terrified, ho sought everywhere
for a crevice of light, but in vain. The
cellar was completely immured and shut
in from the outer world. The captive
shouted aloud for extrication. His voice
came back to him muffled and dull, with
no answering souud to give hope of its
penetrating the moss of masonry by
which he was surrounded. The
chant now realized that he was buried
alive. He felt .that there was less hope
than there sometimes is in such coses.
For, in the endless roar of strife above,
with dozens of unfortunate killed and
maimed every hour, who would think
of, or take the trouble to search for, any
single man ? Yet before tho explosion
he M companions qnd the means of]
making light Ho groped swiftly to a
spot where he remembered placing some
additional lamps. With trenSbling hju
he sooceedeJ in lighting one».gnd Jobl
about Jinn. Of his . three compaui
re misMng~bunisfl» perhaps,
the debrisTh^ Other lay prostrate n
a wall lifdesML - He had
been , struck on tho temple by falling
atoneawfi^ hilled instantly. Tho situs-
tion was erea more awful than it -seemed
before.. To be buried olwe was dread
ful ; bat it Was horrible almost beyoi
endurance tj* be buried alive with the
the war, especially as regards their ulti
mate catastrophies. But it is difficult to
conceive of human suffering more agon
izing than this mast have been, thus
closed in as he was from the world, by an
impassable wall, with darkness and a
corpse for company, and having only a
lingering death to look forward to, in
finitely more terrible than any conceiva
ble swift destruction. It is consolatory
to reflect that all events the unlucky
hero of so romantic an episode survived
to tell the tale, although he finds himself
completely destitute, and forced to begin
the world again without a penny.—-V.
Y Time*.
ot the reutah-
> Sun.
10 the Citizens of Americas.
I of the dullness of the times. I
Uir cun;, date reduced my prices, for
I!*!*.®* n
ffr,itii aee,Dn, * su «-
Resignation.—CoL E. Halbert, has
resigned his position as General Superin
tendent add Superintendent of Construc
tion of the Brunswick and Albany Rail- ,
road, and is now establisheddn'tfcianity.
The Colonel is devoting much time and
study to the subject of narrow-gagne
roads, and we hope, will have something
to aay to the poMio before » gnat while,
which will create an interest in the minds
of the people.—Atlanta Sun. ^
Last Dots.—A laky hoy mati&alazy
man, just as a ciooked sapling makes a
crooked tree. Who ever saw a boy grow
up in idleness, that did not make a shift
less man, nn’ori he had a fortune left to
him to keep»p appearances ?, • The great
mass of drunkards thieves, paupers mud
criminals, that fill our penitentiaries apd
aim .-houses, have come to what they are
by being brought up in idleness. Those
who constitute the business portion of
ths community, those *rhp (j >nake onr
good and useful men, were trained up ifi
their boyhood to be indttstriobi.'
Some days of agony now passed. ; The
hapless prisoner had fits of terror, of
strange fury, and. of exhaustion. Then
he began to work with all the energy of
despair. His only hope he thought was
to clear the rubbish from the staircase.
If he failed to do this, the cellar would
be hit tomb. Ho toiled frantically to
escape from 80 miserable a fate; bat the
walls crumbled continually, and each
brick he took away made others fall
Every now and then he was threatened
with instant destruction by the rains.
Finally his lamp went oat for want of
oil, and he was left in total and irreme
diable iTarkrffT • .Fora time after this he
abandoned all hope. Bat the instinct of
self-preservation again asserted. itself,
and-Main be tore - desperately at the
stones and/fy&ta • He‘liad, been - work
ing, ss he estimated, more than two days
when the ceiling fell in. A brick struck
him on the head, and he fainted. For a
long time he remained insensible, how
loug be could not tell. At last he opened
his eyes and above him he saw the stars.
It was night, and He was alive, although
hemmed in by rubbish,' and dared not
stir for fear of producing a freahfaU of
masonry. In lingering agony he waited
until daylight The dawn came at last*,
tinting .tho surrounding desolation with
streams df rosy light With infinite cau
tion and pain the merchant succeeded in
drawing himself np to a beam of the
eeiling, and thenoe, after some time, in
making escape. Once free, he
cronched, as he says, By the rains of his
home midwep^ ior two hours. Ho had
spent nearly a week in thk oellar. Like
the' ptii#. j&'0U!Iiik':fcb;bi4.wli&A
bad not a single gray hair before, became
Sentenced to Deutli.
Tho State vs. John R. Holseubacke.—
Murder and verdict of guilty, in Macon
county Superior Court, May term,
1871. Remarks of Judge James M.
Clark upon passing sentence on the
prisoner :
You have had a fair and impartial trial
by an intelligent jury of your fellow-citi
zens, and a verdict of guilty lias been
rendered against you. The verdict is a
just one. It commends itself to the good
sense of all fair-minded people; and
must commend itself to your own con
science. You have committed a great
crime, and must answer for it by submit
ting to the most terrible form of punish
ment known to the law.
The whole country was startled with
the intelligence of the death of CoL Geo.
W. Fish. The cheek of men turned
pale, who had never heard of his name.
The news flashed across the wires, that
as he was returning home, while on his
way from the depot to his residence, at
one o’clock on the night of the 28th day
of February last, he was shot and killed
he was passing the door of the court
house. Stricken by un unseen hand he
fell and expired in a few moments.
Assassination is the most terrible and
dangerous crime known to the law.
rejoice to know that it is unusual iu this
country, but is confined chiefly
States of Italy anil other less civilzed
ports of the world. There can be, from
the nature of things, no protection against
it. The highest order of courage, and
the highest developments of manhood
of no avail The eye of the assassin,
when once fixed upon its victim, pursues
it with remorseless vigor in all crowds
and places, at all times and seasons, both
by day and by night. The bravest man
the country ot once becomes a coward
the moment he is satisfied that the
sassin is dogging his footsteps, and his
hand is ever ready, at some unsuspecting
moment, to deal the fatal blow. He feels
and realizes tho alarming truth that hu-
ingeunity and human precaution
cannot avail him ; that the blow may de
scend upon him, like a thunderbolt, at
any hour and place ; that an unseen hand
holds the issues of life aud death
grasp.
While it is the highest grade of crime
is tho lowest order of vice, and can
ly cminate from a mind thoroughly
rupted and depraved, and totally devoid
of all the nobler instincts of the r&<
The man who seeks the life of his
the public thoroughfare, giv
least a narrow chance of defense o
cape. The crime is a great one but
infirm nature will allow some merit to
the bold violator of tho law, and some
times will surround the criminal with a
false halo of courage and intrepidity.—
But he who from 4 a secret lurking place,
at the dark hour of uight, slays his un
suspicious victim, exhibits not one re
deeming trait, but human nature in its
most degraded form—man fallen from
his high estate of honor to the lowest
condition of vice, and below even some
of the nobler instincts of the brute crea
tion. No wonder that such a crime as
Ihis should awaken the whole country,
and make men everywhere feel the inse
curity of life—the want of that protector
which the law itself throws around the
lives of the people.
There is no evidence that Colonel Fish
rer knew that you had an unkind wish
: entertained an unkiud thought toward
him. You met him us a friend, and uev-
permitted any suspicions to awaken iu
his mind of your evil purposes toward
him. Tho base aud utterly groundless
charge, which you and your confederate
hod hatched up against him, you never
communicated to him. He was sudden
ly cat off without the faintest suspicion
of any evil thought upon your part.
Your present condition may be traced
to your habits of idleness and dissipation
If you had lived au industrious life, you
would probably have lived a sober tnau,
and would this day have been enjoying
the society of your family, a contented
and useful citizen. Your bad and vici
ous habits forced the wife of your bosom
to abandon you, and to seek protection
under her father's roof. Hers is but an
other instance of the wrongs of women,
inflicted upon them by the brutal con
duct of indolent, thriftless husbands.—
Ideleness is the curse of this age. La
bor keeps the mind aud body in health
ful exercise, and leaves uo time for the
indulgence of the evil passions. Hence
those crimes that startle mankind
generally committed, not by the honest
sons of toil, bat by'the idle and dissolute
inhabitants of towns and cities.
Yon have brought a great calamity up
on the family of Colonel Fish. The wife
is without protection of her husband,
and the children are without the filter
ing, guiding hand of a father. A good
•wife can, with that heroic fortitude
which only a woman can exhibit, surren-
der her husband to a natural death. She
sits by his bedside and watches over his
restless slumbers; she administers to his
in death, she bows her head with Chris
tian submission to the will of her maker;
and in after years she looks back upon
the event, with the melancholy satisfac
tion that every care and attention which
affection could suggest were used to
smooth his passage to the grave.
/On this occasion the wife was waiting
the return of an affectionate husband.—
The children were asleep, and she os an
ever faithful sentinel, was keeping sleep
less vigils, and watching the fleeting
hours when her husband should return.
He came ! Not os usual, full of life and
hope and affection, but borne to her em
braces by the hands of friends, a bleed-
mangled corps. It is best to draw the
curtain over the sorrow that dwelt in
that household on that solemn uight.
Nothing in nature equals the love of a
tender and devoted wife. The Bible
gives an interesting account of the love
of David and Jonathan, but ri>i« falls
short of the love of the wife of an affec
tionate husband. She bows before liis
intellect and worships his courage and
manhood with more devotion than the
heathen devotee when he bows before the
shrine of his idolatry. She is bound to
him by those ties, which the severest ad
vents of life, which sickness and sorrow
and the changes of fortune only strength-
Bnt you have rudely sundered these
ties. Mis. Fish is now a broken down
woman. The grave has cast the shad-
of death over her life, and these
shadows will lengthen oat as time advan
ces, and will never disappear from her
pathway until her spirit ascends to that
better world “where the wicked cease
from troubling, and the weary are at
rest”
I would not willingly woand your feel
ings by a single harsh word, unbefitting
the solemnity of this occasion. The Al
mighty has burdened yonr conscience
with this great crime. It is as much as
you can bear. I would not tortue you
with an effort to add to its weight.
It is with pleasure I turn away from
the saddest of earthly scenes, and with
confidence invite you to the mercy seat
The law of man knows no mercy. . Death
is the stern penalty of your transgression
But tho Savior came into the world to
save sinners, and by his death has given
a free invitation to all men to come to
liiip. Let me beg of you to discard the
infidel teachings of tho bail man who
your companion iu crime, and look to
him alone who can give peace and
mortal life. Let the ti uo allotted to you
on earth be spent in repentance, in hum
ble supplication before the throne of
grace for pardon and forgivness. If you
will truly repent, yon are invited to come
and the promise is sure and everlasting
that he will not tarn yon empty away.—
“Seek and ye shall find ; ask and ye shall
receive"; knock and it shall be opened
unto yon ;” and may the lord have mer
cy on yon.
he dechuree himself to.h&ve aged more in
those few days than the previous,.twenty
years*,
There may have beta 1 erento more
than this during
One poultry financier in California has
10,000 hens.
They have in Cincinnati a physician
whose name is Dr. Wullunpest.
One good hard hand is better than any
two soft hearts any day, whether you be
lieve it or not.
Mexico has just found out (or believes
they have found out) that she has
million inhabitants.
Yon seldom see a carpenter as good
looking os his wife because ho is general
ly a deal planer!
A colony of farmers from New Jersey,
comprising about a hundred families,
about to settle iu Morgan County Ten
nessee.
A St. Louis paper says the “social evil”
ordinance bring $40,000 a year into the
ty treasury, but makes not one bad
woman the less.
The Jackson Whig and Tribune says
“A girl who is called a blonde, wonld ii
ir boyhood days have been called a ‘flax-
Natches, Miss., proudly points to a
two year old amendment that weighs 87
pounds. One of her future aldermen
doubtless.
“What for dey call db sor o'wool
hair, l’se like to knaw.” “Dat
wool, honey ; dat dar kim off a goat and
dey calls it mohair caze a goat have mo
hair dan a sheep.”
An Irishman who' hail just landed ii
America said “the first bit of mate he
thb country was a roasted potato
boiled yesterday; and if you don’t belave
show it to ye, for I have in my
pocket.
The girls, who work in the Treasury
Department at Washington for a salary
of seven dollars a week wears sixteen
dollar shoes with gold tinsels.
A woman iu Mississippi, lost season
cultivated, with- the help of a mule, ten
acres of corn, ten acres of wheat, and ten
acres of oats; making a clear profit of
$400.
The Japanese have two foreign minis
ters, one of whom serves for entire Eu
rope, while the other they send to the
United States, as illustrative of the re-
ipect in which they hold thb country.
A well to-do merchant living near
Cairo has been arrested for endeavoring
to starve hb wife to death, so that he
might marry hb servant girl. The help
prettier than the wife.
taken from a
4oiiog that 05Dipl6te|f ^ most trifling wants; she coob the fevered
brow; she relieves the parched thirst.—
And as she sees the 4 tide ot life ebbing
juray, she prays that her Heavenly Fath
er-may spare him and raise him again to
health. But when hb eyes have closed
THE SWITCH-TENDER’S
STORY.
Thb b a “personal 1
country journal :
•*A young lady takts thb method of
informing a certain young man that the
next time he desires to gaze upon her,
forty-five mortal minutes without wink
ing hb eyes she will consider, herself
highly favored if he will cloae hb month,
andnot set there hke & young iribin await
ing the parent bird.'
It ran thus: “Its nigh unto eleven
years, air, since I came on thb road.—
For the first three years I was brakes-
i, and if I had stack to it I might
have becomo a conductor in thb time—
who knows. My character was good
and I’ve always been a steady man, but
you see it wasn’t to be. My old woman
always objected to me hmning ou the
train, it kept me so much away from
home, not to speak of the danger, and
the end of the third year, when onr
little boy was born, she begged so hard
give it np that I .consented, and the
company put me in a place where I’ve
been ever since. It’s not hard, I’ve on-
got to tend one switch and do odd jobs
about the depot, the pay b just the
same as what I got before, only there’s
chance for promotion ; but then I’m
always at home, which makes it up. I
live only a little ways across the bridge,
the outskirts of the town, yonder, on
the other side of the river—a small white
house with an elm tree in the yard—yon
> it from the other end of the
switch.
“So you think the river b very beau
tiful at thb season of the year? Well,
*, I dare aay it is. I thought so once
myself ; but I don't take any pleasure in
looking at it now, nor have I done so for
many a day. Its green banks and its
clear water, with the sunshine sparkling
it, only makes it seem the crueler to
me, as if it langhed over the misery it
hod caused to human beings; bat my
opinions havn’t got anything to do with
what yon come to ask me about,
try and get to the point at once.
Tt will be three years come Monday,
the 13th of next month, which b May,
that after eatin’ my breakfast and Bmok
ing my pipe, which latter operation I
generally gib through with about seven
o’clock, I siarted across the bridge, tak
ing with me my little boy Willie, who
was at that time jnst risin’ o’fivo years.
He was awfully tickled at the idea of
bein’ allowed to go out with mt
mother kept him mostly aronnd the
house, bavin,’ like nearly all women,
great fear of the trains. I don’t think,
ir, I ever seen a finer mornin’-
•as well nigh up bnt not too warm, (with a
■ hitqcloud here and there in the blue
sky, the trees and grass green and fresh
and glistenin’ with the dew, and under
neath us the liver flowin’ bright aud
clear, just as you see it now, sir. My
heart felt light, and havin’ nothin’ on
my mind—I had jnst finished payin’ for
my house the week before—I began to
comparin’ my troubles with my
blessins* that after all it would be hard
to find a better place than thb same
mnch abused world we live in.
The time-tabie was a little different
then from what it is now. The freight
train i ame down at 7 uJO a. m , switched
oft, and waited for the express to go by,
which followed in fifteen minutes later.
I reached the switch about ten minutes
ahead of time—I always do—and siltin’
down on the tie, I filled a fresh pipe and
smoked away, while little Willie gather
ed pebbles, aud throwing ’em in the
water, laughed and shouted at the
splashes they made.
“ Finally growin’ bolder he ventured
the river's edge, and pluckin’ one of
the lillies that grew there in abundance,
he came in great glee and laid it at my
feet. I put the flower carefully in my
pocket so os not to bruise it, intending
to show it to hb mother. He lbped out
that pretty blue ones grew further down,
and begged to go and get one of them ;
but as it was almost time for the train,
refnsed my permission, and taking
him some tan or fifteen yards from the
track, sat him down at the foot of a tree
•the maple yonder—and bade him re-
ain there till I called.
“ The time for the train came and
passed, and still no signs of it I grew
nervous and did not notice my boy. Min
ute after minute passed away, and at last
when I began to be certain that some ac
cident had occured it hove in sight jnst
five minutes before the express was due,
which I knew conld not bo more than
two miles behind. I saw at
cause of the delay; the train was unusual
ly long and heavy, and the engine
ber forty-two, which the, firemen had
christened “Old Ricketty,” was the
worst on the road. The switch was all
ready, bat the train moved so slowly
that the last car had hardly left the
track, when I heard the whbtle of
the express, and the next moment she
rounded the bend at fall speed. I know
that I didn’t have any too mnch time to
get the switch iu position, and went at
my work with a will, when suddenly I
heard a child’s scream and turning round
I saw little Willie struggling in the water.
For an instant the sight of my child’s
danger overpowered every other consid
eration, and I sprang for the river but
before I got half the distance the hoarse
whbtle of the train rang in my ear like
a trumpet, and the thought of my duty,
and the hundreds of lives that wonld be
sacrificed if I deserted my post, went
through my brain like a flash of lightning
while all the time there was a feeling
about my heart I can’t tell in so many
words—I only knew it was worse than
death—beseeching me to save my boy.
*Tke whole thing oouldn’t have lasted
ire than two seconds, and how the one
feelinggot the better of the other I
knew. I have no recollectien of turn
ing back, bat the next thing I remember
I was at the switch working like mad.
I never had such strength. I felt that I
coold have wrenched np a solid iron rail
in my agony, and bent them like straw;
and.1 did hot seem to see anything about
me distinctly, neither rails nor ties—
but dimly and vaguely, as if in a dream,
or at a great distance. What I did see
ss. plainly as I do. now, although it was
behind me, was the clear and beautiful
river flowing on in the morning son, and
in tho midst of it little Willie weakly
stra gling for help, while the bright,
cruel waves smote him in the face aud
langhed. I had no ear for the nearing
ain, but all I heard—or seemed to, for
I can’t rightly say—were hb cries to hla
father for help, growing fainter and faint
er ; and then the horrible babbling Bound,
ss he sank finally, and hb last breath
found its way to the surface.
“At length the switch was in position,
and although it’s a short job at best, and
I must have accomplished it at that
time with a quickness I can never again
eqoal yet it seemed longer, than the
longest summer's day ; bat it was done,
and I rushed to the river and gazed eager
ly around for some sign that might tell
where to pluDge in to rescue my
child; but there was nothing, nothing
bnt the sunlight that glbtened brightly
the little wavelets that smiled mock
ingly in my face as they hurried onward.
I don’t remember anything farther.—
There was a great choking in my throat,
huge weight of lead seemed to fall on
my brain, aud all was black. When I
came to my sense it was three weeks af
terward, with my old woman—God bless
her—sitting along side of me, holdin’ my
hand in hers. The doctor said I had
made a close mbs of it and at first I felt
sorry that I had lived at all ; but that
didn’t last long, for I knew there was
another one—she who sat beside me—
who had suffered more than I hai and
stood it nobly, so I tried to get better in
order to console he. It was two weeks
more before I got out of bed, and quite
two months before I was able to go
aronnd. I will never be the same man
agaiu.
“The company pensioned me, and
didn't want me to do any more work at
all Bnt I coaldn’t bear to be idle—yon
see, sir, I wasn’t. brought up to it, and
strange as it may appear, I didn’t feel
like working anywhere lave in the old
place; I seemed to be closer to iny boy
there. I found the lily he had gathered,
just as I had placed it in my jacket pock
et, and gave it to hb mother. She has it
yet, all withered and colorless, in a little
glass on the mantlepiece, and there, sir,
it shall remain in sight of ns both until
onr time comes to join him.
AGES OF NOTED MEN.
Jefferson Davis b sixv-three years old.
General Tecnmseh Sherman ia just
fifty-one.
Charles Francis Adams b sixty-four
years old
General McClellen is forty-five years
old.
Governor Geary b fifty-six years old.
Senator Morrill w fifty-six.
Charles Sumner was bom in Boston,
January, 1811.
Wendell Phillipe b sixty.
Carl Schurz can never be Prudent or
Vice President because he was bora in
Germany. Age only forty-two.
Oliver P. Morton will be forty-eifcht
next August.
Andrew G. Curtin is fifty-four.
George Francb Train if forty-five.
Gen. Phil, Sheridan is nearly forty.
Henry Willaon, of Massachusetts, was
fifty-nine last February.
Ben. Wade b seventy-five.
James E. English, of Connecticut, was
born in March, 1812.
Simeon Cameron is seventy-two.
Johu A. Logan was forty-five last Feb
ruary. ....
Clement L. Yalandigham is fifty-mno.
Ben. Butler b filty-threo years, and
two hundred and fifty in “tricks that are
vain.”
Sanford E. Church b fifty-two.
Speaker Blaine b forty-one, and weighs
b fifty-
Free Love on Long Island.
TBBKE WIVES LIVING AND ONE WIFE DEAD
—A SPURIOUS DIVORCE—A SUIT
FOR SUPPORT—A LAWYER IN
SULTING A JUDGE.
John Seaman was arraigned i
Queens county Special Sessions
charge of neglecting to support hb fam
ily. Hb wife also mode a complaint
against one Hannah Blair. It c
that the Blair woman had been married
to Seaman, and subseqnent development!
in the trbl of Seaman showed
that Hannah was hb fourth wife.—
Thirty years ago Seaman married hb
first wife, by whom he hod four children.
After he had lived with her twenty-four
years he conceived a passion for another
woman, prnl married her. For three
years he lived with the two wives, neither
knowing of the existence of the other,
as they resided in different village \
During all thb time Seaman bore the
reputation of an honest and respectable
He divided hb attention about
equally between hb two homes, to the.
satisfaction of both families. At the
end of the three years wife No. 2 died,
leaving a grown-up daughter by a pre-
morrbge. Seaman soon transfer
red hb affection to the daughter, and
she became wife No. 3. He lived liapi-
ly with Nos. 1 and 3"'for three years, and
until he met Hannah Blair, then a mai
den of twenty summers.
Seaman then threw off hb allegiance
to hb third wife, and proposed to make
Hannah hb fourth. The latter, however
knew of the exbtence of wife No. 1, and
refused to become Mrs. Seaman until
legal separation was obtained. Seaman
procured a spurious divorce, which satis
fied Hannah, and she was duly installed
as wife No. 4. Both the divorce aod
marriage ceremony were kept secret.
Thus matters stood until wife No.
made the above compliants against
her husband and his paramour.
The defence was conducted by the
Hon. J. W. Covert, and many of the
points made by him were overruled by
the Court, as he contended on personal
grounds. Thb embittered him, and he
addressed sharp language to the Judge
Thb created excitement, which many
fepred might lead to a personal encoun.
At the close of the testimony for
the prosecution Court offered the divoroe
as evidence. The Court ruled it out,
and Convert, after some sharp personal
language, withdrew from the case, say
ing, that that was the last case^he would
ver conduct before that Court.
The case was then adjourned until
Thursday, to enable the prisoner to pro-
core other counsel. Beaman was reman
ed to jail without bail.—N. Y. San.
two hundred and twentyponnds.
Governor Palmer, of Illinois,
five, and was boro in Kentucky.
General Frank Blair was fifty in Feb
ruary.
Reuben E. Fenton is fifty two.
General Winfield Scott Hancock is
forty-seven. .
Thomas A. Hendricks will be fifty-two
next September.
John T. Helmbolt b forty-five.
Lyman Trumbull. was fifty-eight last
October.
George S. Bontwell b fifty-three.
John Charles Fremont b fifty-eight
W. S. Grosbock, of Cincinnati, b forty-
five.
General N. P. Banks b fifty-five.
Ulysses Simpson Grant was forty-nine,
April 27 1871.
Chief Justice Chase b sixty-three.
Horace Greely began to learn what be
knows about farming at Amherst
Hampshire, February 3, 1811. He is
tamed of sixty.
Hanibal Hamlin b sixty-two.
Judge David Davis, of tho Supreme
Court. Avoirdupob, three hundred and
twenty five pounds; girth, one hundred
and twenty inches ; age about fifty-five.
James F. Wilson, of Iowa, was born
in October, 1828, and b now forty-two
years old. . .
Qeorge H. Pendleton is an Ohio man
of Virginia antecedents. He is forty
years old.
Judge Thurman is a Virginian, from
Lynchburg, born there in November,
1813, but removed to Ohio in 1819. Ho
** Scluiyler Colfax was born in New York;
b forty-eight years old. . .
B. Grata Brown, of Missouri, is forty-
fiV John Quincy Adams, of Massachu
setts, is about thirty-eight.
Meeting of tlie Stoclxliolderm of
the Mobile & Girard Railroad.
The call for an extraordinary meeting
of the stockholders of thb railroad, to be
held on Tuesday next, b sufficiently sug
gestive, we hope, to procure a full repre
sentation of the stock. The Directors,
making the call, express the opinion
that the road must soon be either sold or
leased. The stockholders will see that
there is danger of a sacrifice of their in
terests in the adoption of either of these
expedients. They should be on hand to^,
protect their own interests. The corpo
rations holding large amounts of stock
will of course bo represented. We do
not know what course they propose to
pursue, or what coarse the necessities of
some of them may constrain them to ac
quiesce in. If the road can be saved from
either alternative presented by the Di
rectors, it can probably only be done by
the action of individual stockholders.—
too important a road, and too much
capital has been in it, to allow it to be
sacrificed if the co-operation of all con
cerned can prevent it. There never was
more urgent occasion tor the repetition
of Hercules' advice to the wagouer. Let
all the stockholders put their shoulders
to the wheels, and are if they cannot
keep the cars moving in their own inter
est and under their own management.
Managwent of Gold Fish.—Gold
fish may be kept ten or twelve years in
vessels (their average period of exbtence)
by the following precaution: 1, Allow
not more than one fish to a quart of
water, whether spring or river water,
and change it every other day in summer
every third day in winter. 2. Use deep
rather than shallow vessels, with small
pebbles at the bottom (to be kept dean),
and keep them in the shade and in a cool
part of tho room. 3, Use a small net
rather than the hand while changing the
the water. 4. Feed with cracker, yolk
of egg, rice paper, lettuce, flies, etc.,
rather than with bread, and then only
every third or fourth day,and but little at
a time. 5. Do not feed them mnch from
November to the end of February, and
bnt little more during tlie three following
months. 6. In frosty weather, the water
should be drawn and allowed to stand a
while in a room were there b a Are, be.
fore placing the ifish in it; this takes|tho
chill off the water, which might kill the
fish.
An alleged discovery of a core for
cancer from a specific derived from a
plant which grows in Ecuador b exciting
much interest in medical circles. A
curious story b told of the manner in
which the anti-cancer virtues of thb
plant were first discovered. For a long
time previous to thb discovery the plant
had been regarded as a poison. Acting
upon thb belief, an Ecuador wife who
desired to rid herself of her husband
gave him a decoction of thb plank in hie
drink. The fellow was already dying
slowly of cancer in the stomach, bnt her
eagerness could not wait for the ordinary
sequalin such cases.. She applied the
noxious distillation to hb dnnk, and
waited to see’him fall at her feet. Bnt
instead of that the happy husband sur
vived. The aubtile essence benefitted
hb canoer, and the fellow finally recover
ed from his disease to make known the
bleesing to the world.
ti
A Boston paper says: “A horse ran
away yesterday, and a doctor ran. and a «
reporter ran also. The herso fell, the
rider was unhurt, the doctor had no case,
the coroner no fee, the reporter had thb
paragraph, and that was all that eome of
the rnn-away.”
A Harvard graduate, who b now swing
ing a sledge-hammer in a mine in Utah,
writes home that he believes that the
day of Mormonism will be short, and
that the Mormon girls particularly are
down on polygamy, manifesting a will
ingness in all cases to marry a Gentile
rather than a Mormon.
Boston papers record the mysterious
disappearance of a temperance lecturer,
who, when last seen, was drunk.
\
