The Weekly Sumter republican. (Americus, Ga.) 18??-1889, October 06, 1871, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextPUBLISHED BY HANCOCK, GRAHAM & EHILLY. Volume 18. DEVOTED TO HEWS, POLITICS AND GENERAL PROGRESS—INDEPENDENT IN ALL S . THINGS. \ TERMS: r . ■! Three Dollars a Year, ( PATAOLE IN APVAXCB. AMERICUS, GEORGlAj OCTOBER 6. 1871. Number 32. WEEKLY SUMTER REPUBLICAN UK MADE IN ADVANCE. mmrtion fl 00 iDsirtion 50 .,f Miuion type, solid, conati- U ot contracted for will be cifYing tlio length of H P CC1 • fixed places will be iusertcd for twenty Professional Cards. ji,o D. CARTER, AT Ul. Americas, Oeorpin. ■ it. Bini Jlnilding, Emanuel's corner. C. T GOODE. Attorney at Law AM F illers, GEORGIA. „vi*r W. T. Davenport’s Drug store. The Moneyless W»n la (here no secret place on the face of the earth, Where charity dwelleth, where virtue hath birth ? There bosoms in mercy and kindness will heave, And the poor and the wretched shall “aak and receive ?” Is there no place on earth where a knock from the poor Will bring a kind angel to open the door * earch the wide world wherever you There is no open door tor the moneyless laok in your hall, where the chandelier’s light, res off with its splendor the darkness of night! Where tlio rich hanging velvet, in shadowy fold, Sweeps gracefully down with its trimmings of gold, And the mirrors of ailvertake up and renew, In long lighted vistas the wildering view— Go there, in your patches, and find, if you dooming sn-ile for a moneyless man! Go, look in yon church of the cloud-reaching e the arch (id and columns are gorgeous within, the walla seem as pure as a soul with- e the rich and the JACK BROWN, ornoy ft t Lft v AMERICUS, GA. „... ... Court House with Judge Sttn- reblCt" N. A. SMITH, oru oy at Xj ft v i•Tactile in the Courts of Sumter i c.mutica, and in Circuit Court of Co’loee street, next to Republi- s;; feb 25 tf. J. A. ANSLEY, ATTORNEY AT LAW, W‘;;l ionili Wester eme Court < iuuo 16 tr. HAWKINS & GTJERRY, Altorneys-at-Law, United States Cir Phillip Cook;, Attorr\ey at Law, AMERICUS. GEORGIA. WtX, raph Oflic jau S 6m* W. T. WEAVER, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Americas, Georgia. O FFICE—up stairs in building opposite Har- n.l.i, Johnson & Co’s Warehouse, rooi" -■* itmung Temperance Hall, l’r-unpt attuuti»ii given to all businos Will practice in all the State Courts. Go down the long aisle In the pomp and ly estate— Walk down in yon Go, lot ide of their world- r patches, and find, if you io n moneyless man '. udge in his dark-flowing With the equity down, Where he frowns on the weak and the strong, And punishes right, while h fighteth Where jur justifies s their lips on the Bible have laid, verdict they’ve already made— i the court-room, and find, ifyou , look in the banks, where the Mammon told and thousands of silvei His hundred: gold; Where safe from the hands of the starving and poor. Lies pile upon pile of the glittering Walk up to the counter—ah, there you may stay, Till your limba grow old and your hair turns gray. And you’ll find at the banka no one of the With money to lend o a moneyless man ? Then go to your hov41; no raven has fed The wife who has suffered too long for hei bread: Kneel down by her pallet and kiss the death frost From the lips of the angel your poverty lost: agony upward God, smites you, the chas- George W. Wootei\, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, Amoricus. ■ • ■ ■ G-ft- 0:Yae—Over Granberry's, comer Ltmar and L illi-ge streets. sept. D- tf. Dr. G. F. COOPER. Dr. J. B. HINKLE ituiuance of the lilx-ral patronage s''stowed upon him. i.’d attention civtn to Surgery, rtera at the Drug Htoro of Dr. E. J. Uesidtnco iu the house known as lion*"*, nearly opposite A. A. Adams. Dr. S. B. HAWKINS. ])JV OFFICE at Dr. Eldridge’s Drug Store. Amcnm* and oountry generally. j« 2 * DR. D. P- HOLLOWAY DENTIST. A’IEIUcUS, OFFICE over Mrs. C. A. Weight's Millinery Then tur And bless, while tening rod And you'll find at the end of your life’s little span. There's a welcome above for tho moneyless [We would add the following stanzas but embodying the simple truth:] only “above,’’ but also on earth, lere one spot, at least, “Where virtue hath birth— Where bosoms, in mercy and kindnes And the poor and the wretched sbal and receive.’ ” Charity’s Home, ’ncath the Mystical Arch, Where Trace, Love and Unity constantly march. Go there—give the Grand Hailing Sign—if A welcome you’ll find—though a moneyless i outward adornments; no ancestral name: > money or bonds; no titular fame, i entrance can gain to that sacred retreat, here, on true points of fellowship, breth- ■epared, roust all wl closed ’gainst MEDICAL CARD. Bomovftl. moved liis oilice t •flirted generally to eall •af*e to the best of bis ability. $50 REWARD. E SCAPED from Jail in Lee county, Go., on Sunday, the 80th of July, Lewis Johns, a '‘‘'Fro, committed to jail for horse-stealing.— k»i>1 Lewis is about twenty-four or five years ot »Ke. very bla'-.k, has lost all bis upper front •«-th, is about 5 feet 8 inches high, and hae a tt« from a bum) in his left choek, la ‘ tiunkv built. [I give fifty dollars for his apprehension “-e JaflinI *- JAMES fresh turnip seed, of Skirving’a Improved X<*l!ow Rutabaga and Urge Flat 1 ju,t received at DAVENPORTS. Jnljiltt Some Good Advice.—Look most to your spending. No matter what comes wore goes out, you will always be poor. Tho art is not iu making money, keeping it; little expenses, like mice in a barn, when they many, make great waste. Hair by hair, heads get bald; straw by straw, the thatch goes off the cottage; and drop by drop, the water comes into the chamber. A barrel soon empty, if the tap leaks but a drop minute. When you mean to save, begin with your mouth; there are many thieves down the red lane. The ale-jag is a great waste. In all things keep within compass. Never stretch your legs farth er than the blankets will reach, or you will soon be cold. In clothes, choose suitable and lasting staff, and not tawday fineries. To he warm, is the main thing; never mind the looks. A fool makes money, but it needs a wise man to spend it. Remember, it is easier to build two chimneys than to keep one going. Fare hard and work hard While you are young, and yon have a chance to rest when yon are old. TEE INDIAN CHIEF. The following beautiful story is old, but literally true, and was first published in a lecture delivered by William Tracy, Esq-, of Utica N. Y., on the early histo ry of Oneida county: One of the first settlers in Western New York was Judge , who estab lished himself at Whitestown, about four miles from Utica. He brought nis family with him, among whom was a widowed daughter with only one child—a fine boy about four years old. Yon will recollect the country around was an unbroken for est, and this was the domain of the sav age tribes. Judge W , saw the necessity of keeping on good terms with the Indians, for, as he was nearly alone, he was com pletely at their mercy. Accordingly he took every opportunity to assure tV.^m of his kindly feelings, and secure Tneir good will in return. Several of the chiefs came to see him, and all appeared pacific. But there was one thing that troubled him; an aged chief of the Oneida tribe and one of great influence, who re sided at a distance of a dozen miles, and had not yet been to see him, nor could he ascertain the views and feelings of the sachem in respect to his settlement in that region. At last he sent in a message and the answer was that the chief would sit him on the morrow. True to his appointment, the sachem came; Judge W received him with marks of respect, and introduced hss wife his daughter, and little boy. The inter view that followed was interesting. Up on its result the J udge was convinced that his security might depend, and he was therefore exceedingly anxious to make a favorable impression upon the distinguished chief. He expressed his desire to settle in the country and live on terms of amity and good fellowship with the Indians, and he useful to them by in troducing among them the arts of civili sation. The chief heard him out, and then said: “Brother, you ask much and you promise much. What pledge can you give of your faith? The white man’s word may be good to the white, yet it is bnt wind when spokeu to the Indian.” “I have put my life in your hands,” said the Judge, ‘*is uot that an evidence of my good intention ? I have placed confidence in the indian, and will not be lieve that he will abnse or betray the trust that is thus reposed.” “So much is well,” replied the chief, the Indian will repay confidence with confidence; if you will trust him ho will trust you. Let this boy go to my wig wam—I will bring him back in three days with my answer!” If an arrow had pierced the bosom of the mother, she could not have felt a deeper pang than went to her heart as the Indian made this proposal. She sprang forward and’running to the boy, who stood at the side of the Sachem, look ing into bis face with pleased wonder and admiration, she encircled him in her arms, and pressing him to her bosom, was about to fly from the room. A gloo my ominous frown came over the Sach em’s brow but he did not speak. But not so with Judge W . lie knew that the success of their enterprise the lives of his family depended on th< decision of a moment. “Stay, stay, my daughter,” he said, “bring hack the boy I beseech you. H( is not more to you than to me. I would not risk a hair of his head. But my child lie must go with the chief, God will watch over him! He will be as safe in the Sachem’s wigwam as beneath own roof.” The agonized mother hesitated f< moment and then slowly returned, plac ing the boy on the knee of the chief, and kneeling at his feet burst into a flood of tears. The gloom passed from the Sach- i*s brow. lie arose and departed. I shall not attempt todescribc the ago oy of the mother for the ensuing dayi She was agitated by contending hopes and fears. In the night she awoke from sleep; seeming to hear the screams of her child calling on his mother for help.— But time wore away slowly—and tho third day came. How slowly did the hours pass. The morning waned |away noon arrived; yet the Sachem came not. There was a gloom over the whole house hold. The mother was pale and silent. Judge W , walked the floor to and fro, going every few minutes to the door, and looking through the opening i forest towards the Sochem’s abode. At last, as the rays of the setting sun were thrown upon the tops of the trees around, the eagle feathers of the chief were seen dancing above the bushes in the distance. He advanced rapidly— and the little boy was at his side. He was gaily attired as a young chief—bis feet being dressed in moccasins, a fine beaver skin was on his shoulders, and eagle feathers were stuck in his hair.— He was in excellent spirits, and so proud was heof his honors, that he seemed two inchea taller than he was before. He was soon in his mother’s arms, and in that brief minute be seemed to pass from death to life. It was a happy meeting too happy for me to describe. The white man was conquered,* said the Sach em; hereafter let us he friends.. You have trusted an Indian^ ho wM repayyou with confidence and friendship.*’ He was as good as his word; and Judge lived for many years in peace with the Indian tribes, and succeeded in laying the foundation of a flourishing and prosperous community.—Providence * (i?. Herald. A Remarkable Boy. If there rrits anything Father Bogles really delighted in, it was to secure the attention of some while he spun a yarn about the cuteness of his hoy Tom.— Ah!” raid Bogles, one day as he had fairly fixed his auditor, “Tom is the most remarkable boy you ever set eyes on; he’s like his old dad—you can no more sarenmvent him than you can wood chuck. You recollect that choice apple tree down under the hill, beside the stump fence Wally I was mity savin’ of them apples, I can tell you. * I for bid Tom touchin’ ’em, as they brought high price in the market; and every told,*but he would get ’em in spite of me. It was his way, you know, and all possessed couldn’t stop him. One day I caught ’he young scapegrace up iu a tree stuffin’ his sadc with the fruit, and determined this time to punish him for ‘“Thomas, my sou,” says I, ‘yonr fath- s callin’ yc—come down.” “I thought I’d be sort of persuasive it would fetch him; bnt he smelt the rat, and wouldn’t budge an inch.” an’t dad,” said he, “these pesky ipples are in the way.” Tom,’ I continued sternly, for my dander begun to rise, come down this minnit, or I’ll cut down the tree, and let yer fall.” u see my poor limbs wouldn’t per mit my shiunin’ after the boy, so I had to take^other means.” “ ‘Oh, no you won’t, dad,’ says T< only think how you’d mourn if you couldn’t sell the apples to stuff the old toad skin.” That was too much, to have my boy accuse me of such parsimony, what does I do hut get the axe, and cut away at the bottom of tho tree.” ‘Tom—Thomas,’ cried I, as the tree about half cut off, ‘will you < down, now, and save yourself?” •Never mind, dad,’ says lie; ‘I ipillin.” It was no use; I couldn’t bring him that way; and so I chopped away at the tree, till at last it began to sway, and fell the ground.” What! and crushed your own boy!" ejaculated his horrified listener. “Not by a long chalk,” said old Bo gles, winking knowingly. “You couldn’t it over Tom in any such way.— Whr.t had he done but crawled on a limb; and while I was choppin’ at the bottom o’ the tree, he had been cutting off the limb with his jack knife, and when the tree fell, he was still up there the limb!” The Calamity at Httston—a Strange Presentment The Scranton (Penn.) Republican tells the following sad story of one of the tims of the late Pittston disaster : William James expired about ‘ clock on the afternoon of the Tuesday fol lowing the catastrophe, and was the last added to the list of those upon whom the death angel laid his hand in that awful havoc, He was a Welshman, and had boeu iu this country about seveu mouths. On the morning of the dreadful day question he had taken his breakfast, and his wife had made ready his dinuer and set tho pail beside him. For so he sat wrapped in thought, his arms fol ded, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the stove, aud a deep melancholy apparent ly brooding over him. He was aroused from his reverie by his wife telling him that Iris dinner-was ready, aud that Ue would be late as the bell had rtu started to Ills feet, and gazing upon her for a momeut with alovk full of tender. aud significance, said to her, “If I should not come hack alive would you be in such a hurry getting me out?” The wife'a ns we red, “No” but remarked that ‘if he was going at all, it was time he was gone.” He lifted his pail without say- word, aud after kissing his wife kissed his four little children, who were sitting playing ou the door-steps. When ho had got about fifty yards from his "home he returned again, and kissed his wife and children ouce more with |great fervency. His wife noticed that he was the victim of gloomy forebodings, and as he turned away, she was about to entreat him not to go to work if he apprehended any danger. Bnt hope and courage and the pressing necessities of their family overcame her intention, and let him go. She stood in the door and watched him iy to the fatal pit. When at a point where he turned out of her sight, he paused and cast a wistful look toward his home and little once, and seeing his wife, wared with Ids ‘hand a last adieu. He parted with his lqved ones forever.*’ from the. Atlanta Constitution. TQE HON. B. H. IIILL. He Addresses the Members of the legit- litore Explaining hit Political Coarse. D TELLS SO ALB FACTS RXL4TINO TO T1IX ACTION OF THB GOVfiBXMKNL IX OON- HI3 COXXICTIOX WITH THE STATE ROAD 7b the Members Elect of the General As sembly tf Georgia : Because of tho facts herein stated I deem it my duty respectfully to make di rectly to you this communication. Pending the canvass for yonr election, in 1870,1 came in possession of informa tion which satisfied my mind that in the •rent of a decided Democratic succcas in that' Election an effort wo old be made a reconstruction of the State was to be attempted, so far at least as to exclnde from their seats successful Democrats and the substitution of their defeated oppo- nents, sufficient to change the politico! complexion of the Assembly. I did uot doubt—have never doubted—such Demo cratic success in Georgia on existing is sues, and have always believed that sue cess would be increased in exact propor tion os the balloting was free, quiet and the counting of the votes was correct and honest. While this reconstruction was the fixed purpose of an extreme faction of one party, I greatly feared the unnecessary and intemperate, though doubtless patrio tic zeal, of extreme men in the Demo cratic party would furnish the pretext to give this purpose success. With such result again fixed upon us, I could see o peace or prosperity for Georgia. By such repeated movements in the past, our property had been depricated, our busi ness paralyzed, our burdens increased, and our hopes of recuperation postponed and disappointed, until I could see noth ing but irretrievable ruiu beyond auoth- repetition. • I could imagine no high- patriotic move than of averting by houerable means, if possible, such a catastrophe, and I undertook that work. Mature reflection and close observa tion had, before that time, entirely satis fied me that, right or wrong, the 14 and 15th amendments would be held to have become fixed parts of the Constitution, and that as such, and as, in their opinon, embodying the final aud permanent re sults of the war, they would bo recog nized by all the people of all parties at the North, and that no national party could or would take issue upon them, oi such results, iu the Presidential canvas! of 1872. The time had thus come foi the Southern people to accept, accom plished facts, what they did uot adopt by consent and obey what they could not resist. Thus informed and thus convinced, deemed it my solemn duty to remove f act could all pretext for int< villi what I did not doubt would be the result of the election. With tl< distinct and single purpose, I issued tv weeks before the election the address of December 8th,“urging our people to cognize all the civil and political rights conferred by these amendments, and to protect, avowedly, all persons in the ex ercise of those rights. This address had at least the effect of placing me in posi tion to be heard in the sequel. ’The election resulted as I anticipated. But, also, as I feared, the actions and ex pressed views of some of our friends in different portions of the Stato. were really or intentionally misconstrued as designed to intimidate and defraud the colored voters, and were, in fact, made the f< dation for an earnest effort to set aside the election in the muuucr indicated above. It so happened I was iu a pos to be informed of this movement, and I did not shrink from the imperative duty of meeting it It was defeated, and for the first time since the work of recon struction began a Legislature in Georgia, s parted with his loved t beautiful lady was kissing and ressing her beautiful lap-dog, Oh, Ma ria! exclaimed her foppish adorer, why wasting not grant methe favors you aro oil Fidel? I do not kiss evexy poppy, replied the outingfrtir: details. You shall h ive them if desiri bio, for thongh it has been proper to witliold them from the public heretofore, there was nothing said or done by me ot by those with whom I acted, wliwh you and the public may not know after you have entered upon your duties. Iu some respect the work was not pleasaut, but he has little courage and less worth who fails in duty because in some of its tores and associations it is personally pleasant. I will make two general marks. The first is, that for discharging ouly my duty I have received only unmitiga ted slanders from those who made the duty a neccessity ; and some who were actually using the provocations to accom plish, another reconstruction, have ac tually joined in unique colition iu these slanders. Tho second remark is, that I have heard kind words, aud witnessed a muni fest readiness to lieai truth and deal j ost ia the basis of the Constitution, on part of some high in national p »si- tion, from whom we have been taught to expect neither kindness nor justice.— Bnt it is the following facts I desire uow, justice to myself, to call your special attention. I had no right to make and did not make any pledges or promises for yon. I made none for myself. None were ex acted from either. I did, however, in the most emphatio terms, repudiate all the pretences for tho fears alleged to be entertained of ultra mersures to be adopted by you, and I did express the opinion that your election represented tne true will of our people, aud that, in the expression of that will through your legislation, you Would re cognize and obey the existing Constitu tion of the United States as proclaimed by the authorities of the United States, and that you would observe, respect and protect equally all the civil and political rights of all persons without regard to “ caste, color or previous condition of servitude,” us provided by tho Consti tution, and by all the amendments there to. Those who sought reconstruction made earnest representations to the c trary and urged, in support of their presentations, the action of the Demo crats who united with some white Re publicans in excluding the colored mem- bets from their seats in a former Legisla tors sod the violent utterances ana al leged action of some of oar leading men before and daring the election, resulting as they insisted, in the choice of many of you as the exponents of the views and policy of these gentlemen. I have an undonbting faith that yonr wisdom and patriotism will amply justi fy and vindicate my opinion of yonr official action. While, bn* tha one hand, it is scarcely necessary for me to Bay I would not, un der any circumstances, advise onr people to beoome consenting parties to the adoption of measures dishonoring to them; so, on the other hand, I c.ui never counsel continued oppsoition to measures adopted and facts accomplished as declared by the constituted authorities of the government, and is submitted to by the people ; especially whet, such op position caunot change results, aud will be regarded as muuslestwg n fretful spite inimical to the government^ weaken ing to our friends and which is always made the occasion and the excuse for continued oppressions upon ourselvss. This simple statement so consistent and manifestly; reasonable, embod es all the philosophy of my politics under recon struction, and formed the confident ba sis of my opinion that yon would, in good faith, recognize the Constitution as it is in all our legislative functions; and upon this basis I sought to remove, as far as I could, all the apprehensions which threatened onr Stato with th* in expressible horrors of another reconstruc tion. Whether that is law which every de partment of government. State anil National, recognizes, administers aud executes as law, and to which all the peo ple submit, is, with me not a debatcable question. Therefore, I did not doubt when I issued the address of December, that the recognition of all the amend ments, whether regularly or irregularly made, would form common ground for all parties iu 1872, and tho differences between patties would arise in the con struction. meaning and effect of the amendments. It is singular that men, claiming to be statesmen,should say there was no ground for such differences.— These differences ure exactly those be tween removing and continuing political disablities upon white people ; between centralism and constitutionalism ; be tween carrying on tho revolution and stopping it, Every Democratic Convention which has assembled since December has con firmed the correctness of my views then expressed, and I have no doubt your ac tion will also confirm them, aud the peo ple of Geogia will sustain you with a voice approaching unanimity. There is one other subject to which I beg permission to call yonr attention : I am one of tho lessees of tho Western and Atlantic Railroad—property of tho State. I have always felt an aversion to “ trad ing with the State. But it is tlie duty of .triot to conform his action aud the good of tho public, and peculiarly so under the necessities result ing from revolution. in the fall of 1870 a patriotic and able member of tlio General Assembly then iu session, called my attention to the fact that this road was in danger of being ut terly lost to the State. Numberless bonds w re being authorized to be issued, aud u proposition was pending to sell the d, with a view, it .was believed, of inn- g nominal payment iu these bonds. This gentleman believed thc-ro was but way to defeat this scheme, and that by a bill to lease the road. J con curred earnestly in the wisdom of that measure. It was adopted. Being thus, soihe degree, responsible for the law to lease, I determined to do all iu my power to secure a good, safe and reliable lease. While uot iu all respects, as I would have preferred, I believe the company formed, is as good and safe as cau be found aud the rental paid is reasonable* I believe this measure has already sav ed to the State more than one million of dollars. I believe it will save millions of money, and more than millions of cor ruption in the future. I believe, there fore, it is best for the State that the lease be sustained and the company encourag ed to keep and observe it. While, there fore I have determined never to surren der the road into the hands of those who were running it without profit to the State, but who were taking the people to keep it up;,so, on the other hand, it is well known that, for oue, I hold it sub ject to the will of the true owners, and ready to return it when safe and proper to do so, und the people desire it. So now I Ray to you, and invito your closest scrutiny and honest judgment iu the premises. QAnd now I feel that all my duties touch ing the matters referred to are fully dis charged. In some respects they" have been the most uupleasant of my life.— They a.ie certainly been the most mis taken and misrepresented. Yet I believe they have accomplished more immediate and practical beneficial results than any acta of my life. In all this I have done nothing to serve party, to destroy party, o.t to build tip new parties, nor to pro mote any selfish end, and I despise the dirty slanderers, aunouytuous cowards, cent per-cent sensational writers who have mule such charges. “They are all liars and the truth is not in them.” 1 have had no purpose but to secure ouce and on an houorublo basis a true repre sentation of the people oj the State, and to save the property of the people. With inward consciousness that my motives re patriotic,and with a positive knowl edge that my humble efforts were bear ing good ffruits for the people, none more than for my slanders. I have abided in the faith that the time would when justice would be accorded me and when (as I uotified them as early as December last) my detractors would find “they had only made a record f< Reives of which they would be if they possessed the sensibilities of gen tlemen.” With a liv^lv lioj>e that vot 11 achieve much good for our pressed commonwealth ; that al al bitterness will subside ; that sciinl acrimony will cease ; and ’ that the terrible revolution which has buried many brave men, which has destroyed much valuable property, which has si; verted so many valued rights, and which has broken so many hearts and hopes, has found a final end. I atn, with high regard, yours very truly, Bknj. H Hill. THE MADISON TRAGEDY. Tho Social Quicksand- “It sometimes happens” says Victor | Hugo, “on certain coasts of Brittany or j .Scotland, that a man, traveler or fisher- ME is BIOT TO tikath ix his ckxu ; turn, walking ou the beach at low tide far from the bank, suddenly notices that On yesterday evening late we were eu- for several minutes he hfs been walking ahled to get the full particulars of the with some difficulty. The strand beneath ' ’ ~ : u u his feet is like pitch; his soles stick- to sand no longer; it is glue. recent tragical affair which has caused much excitement iu the town of Madi son. Yesterday morning we published a brief article stating that :» negro had attempted to outrage a young lady, had been arrested aud put in jail, aud then ou the succeeding night a party of men had attempted to take him out of jail and had failed. On Monday night another attempt was made, aud the prisoner was killed in his cell.. The facts of the case seem to be about as follows : ox LAST FRIDAY Miss (whose name we do not care to publish, but who belongs to a most respectable family), accompanied by a young brother and sister, while walk ing along, and apprehending no danger, the party were suddenly assailed by a powerful Mack (lend, who URstiltod Miss , and attempted to violate her person. Fortunately ho did not succeed in his hellish designs, an.l the young lady made her escape. Subsequently HE WAS ARRESTED by a party who went in pursuit of him os soon as the occnrrauee was made known, aud after beiug apprehended was placed in confinement in the jail of Madison. Naturally enough, such an outrage pro duced great excitement in that quiet and peaceable town, and tho most intense in dignation was aroused. By liis actions the culprit was held to have placed him self outside of the law, aud it was felt thut a pardon should not bo risked. On Friday night rode into towu, who eame with a determi nation to mete out summary justice to the culprit They visited the jail for the purpose of taking the prisont r out, but were unable to carry out their design, because, on account of the absence of the jailer, they were unable to open the doors. When the news of this visit spread abroad next morning, it caused quite a commotion among the negroes, who are iu a large majority iu Morgan county. They swore that they would protect the prisoner with their lives, and intimated that they intended to visit the jail and release him. If they had at tempted to execute these threats a col lision would certainly have occurred be tween the races, and much bloodshed have been the result A rescue was ex pected and prepared for, but fortunately it was not attempted. On last Monday night, or rather TUESDAY MORNING, between twelve and one o’clock, a large of men entered the town, and re- il towards the jail. The door was forced open by somo means and the cell of the prisoner visited. The reports of a number of fire-arms were then heard, and the party left tlio jail and tho town. Next morning tlio corpse of the negro ind iu tlie cell almost riddled with It ia supposed thut he was made il up against the wail of his room, and was shot while in that position. The body had not been burned up to noon yesterday, nor had an inquest been held up to that time. Great excitement pre vailed in tlio town and country, bnt no further trouble was apprehended.—Grow, ct’ Sen. Too Much Complaining. Those who never retract love them selves better than the truth. Ilappii: not shedo falling on i is a perfume that one can- r another without a lew drops le’s self Avoid carefully the first ill < ^r that will breed a hundred i “Be of good cheer” is as wise a \ scription for the health of the body as the soul. Envy is a thief that robs the possessor of peace and the victim ofreputation. The man who carries a lantern iu a dark night, can havo frieuds all around him, walking safely by the help of it^, rays, and be not defrauded. So he who has the God-given light of hope in his breast, can help on many others in this world’s darkness, not to his own loss, bnt to their precious gain. That there is too much unnecessary nd fruitless complaiuiug in the world, rethink all will agree with u.-. And specially in these times when the stern struggles incident to life, press with so much weight aud difficulty upon us, are • indulge the habit of complaint to the detriment of energy, hope and cour- Forgettiug too often, it would seem the fundamental principle, that every il of right ought to be, de- itpon himself, and that his ' success in the world is graded i. by the character and per sistency of his effort, there conics an idea it these uro uot sufficiently encouraged aided by those around us. Difficulties > rise up in our path, meanwhile, and these bring a spirit of murmuriug dis couragement, rather than of determined courage, which iu faith, moves vigorous ly onward, determined to surmount or overcome all obstacles. Aud then, with some, things never seem to go as they wish. To follow this cause of disquietude aud discouragement to its legitimate conclusion, let us consid er what sort of a world we should have of it, if wo could all have our wishes ! the first place, we would all he as rich as Croesus, every man of us, and as nobody now works except from necessity, and all would then he placed above necessity, no body would jlig, or butcher or run cars and boats, or tend store, or do any un pleasant thing. Every body would lire in a splendid house and ride in his own carriage, but who would build the ono or drive the other ? In short who would do the work, and how would the world without having work don e? In the next place, we should all become / lm- mortal, and the world would soon be come full of worn out, querulous, crack ed voiced old men, talking worse than ever about the good old times. All the women would be perfectly beautiful, aud probably more envious of each other than ever. All the men would be strong and valient; they would all be born with gold spoons in their mouths and diamond riugs on their fingers, and possibly would all be kings’ sons. Paris wouldjorerfiow and Fifth Avenue, New York, would run around the earth. We should all be wanting the same things, perhaps, and our wishes would become so thick in the that they could not move, and would bo so much at cross purposes that they would counteract one another. On the whole, it probably is best to be contented with our lot and with the world as it is, especially since we can’t have it otherwise. “The beach is perfectly dry, but at ev ery step htf takes, as soon ts he lifts his foot, the print which it leaves fills with water. The eye, however, has noticed no change; the immense strand ia smooth and tranquil, all the sand has the same appearance, nothing distinguishes the surface which ia uo longer so; the joy ous little cloud of sand-fleas continue to leap tumultuously over the wayfarer’s feet. The msn'pursues his way, goes forward, inclines to the land, endeavors to get nearer the upland. Ho is not anx ious. Anxious abgut what? Only he feels somehow as ff^ the weight of his feet - - fnerea-eswith every step he takes. Sud denly he sinks in. “ He sinks in two or three inches. De cidedly he is uot on the right road; he stops to take his bearings. All at once he looks at his feet. His feet have dis appeared. All at once he looks at his feet out of the sand, he will retrace his steps, he turns back, ho sinks in deeper, The saud comes up to his ankles, he pull, liiuiself out and throws himself to the jht, the saud comes up to his shins. Then he recognizes with unspeakable terror that he is caught in the quicksaud and that he has beneath him the fearful medium in which man can no more walk than the fish can swim. Ho throws off his load if he has one, lightens himself like a ship iu distress; it is already too late; the saud is above his knees. He calls, he waves his hat or his handker chief, the sand gains on him mjre and more; if the beach is deserted, if the land is too far off, if there is no help in light, it Is all over. “He is condemned to that burial, long, infallible, impla possible to slacken or to hasten, which endures for hours, which will not end. which seizes you, erect, free, and in full health, which draws you by the feet which at every effort that you attempts at every shout you utter, drags you a little deeper, sinking you slowly into the eart h while you look upon the horizon, the trees, the green fields, the smoke of the villages ou the plains, the sails of the ships upon the sea, the birds flying and singing, the sunshine and the sky. The victim attempts to sit down, to He down, to creep; every movement he makes iu ters him; he straightens up, he sinks in; he feels that he is being swallowed up. Ho howls, implores, cries to the clouds, despairs. i , . . , “Behold him waist deep iu the sand; the saud reaches his breast; he is uow only a bust. He raises his onns, utters furious groans, clutches the beach with his nails, would hold by that straw, leans upon his elbows to pull himself out of this soft sheath, sobs frenziedly; the sand rises. The sand reaches his shoul ders, the sand reaches his neck; the fiico alone is visible now. Mouth cries, the sands fills it; silenoe. The eyes still gaze, the sand shut them; night. Now the forehead decreases, a little hair flut ters above the sand; a hand comes to the surface of the beach, moves and shakes aud disappears. It is the earth drown ing man. The earth filled with the ocean becomes a trap. It presents itself like a plain sod opens like a wave.” You have doubtless noticed during this description the striking analogy be tween the quicksand and intemperance. The young man indulges in Ins social glass joyously, merrily, until at length lie feels a little of tho power of appetite; but lie is not auxious. Ilis stroug will can keep it in check and he goes on with his indulgences without a thought of fear. Songs are merry about him, laughter U loud uud frequent; he is in no danger of crossing the visible line between modera tion and drunkenness. And yet some how bis feet become unsteady, and his nerves tremble strangely. Suddenly ho wakes from his dream of security to find last night ho lost control of himself, and became the laughing stock of the street. He makes resolutions of reform; he will give up his drinks. Then he finds that the dregs of the social glass from a quicksand that holds his feet with a ter rible power. With agony he realizes the power of a quenchless thirst. He takes the pledge, entreats the aid of friends, resolves to amend, falls, resolves again; again he yields to temptation. Then, if faith, hope, aud charity do not lead him to Christ, and “hope all things” for him, eveu against hope, and forgive all. his failures, and deliver him from evil, ho will die in despair. And what a death is that which the quicksand of rnm gives to victims! Fires of hell devouring him slowly with- terrible visions surrounding him without “Ho howls, implores, cries to the clouds, despairs.” The path wh;eh lie entered seemed bright to him, but the end thereof is the way of death. And smiles and songs “his feet took hold on hell.” Are not some of our young men un- consciously crossin- the line betweeu safety and death ? . Bid them beware the quicksand that looks so enticing but bides a grave! “I** bin* that thinketh he atandeth take heed lest he fall.” Are there not some who begin to real ize that appetite is getting powerful with- .in them, and who are struggling with it? I^t us help them, in the name of God, encamp round about them with our char ity, and answer their prayer, “Lead ns not into temptation,” by doting the dens of the tempter. / “And let us, who are of tho day, bo sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love; andfor a helmet, the hope of salvation.”—From a Sermon by Rev. IE F. Crafis, Stoneham, Mass.

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The Weekly Sumter republican. (Americus, Ga.) 18??-1889, October 06, 1871, Image 1