VO I , < ! .
111 f> wn l-'.K i A
€ ;irl*‘i'" vlllo I'\|»r<'s«
to»,r.»m .. C . ‘ - it:, tfart
by . .
S\m’l H. SMITTf.
I'r T ■ • »«llai s. per an
t, • .Jr,fth, i/tKiiiir'!Hfr ; Two IV'ilara for
Hn M,. -■ i 5» ;i .r for Three Month*.
f r !» r , ... fiiir-fi or 1
JERF A. HOWARD,
jjTfm.fi! f ft.vJ . :~oa AT LAW,
.• % ij i ekswille. ga.
ri: rrui' i r a- wofford ,
A t t. o i’ n c > s at T> aw .
<• airr.i vii.i.o, g\.
() ' ! , i: OVfiR i
THOMAS W, MILNER,
.\Uorn«‘> at Law,
W'ill at cud promptly to Uu-im .-a entrusted
to hi* ran-. Oct. 5 wly
S3o.i. W. DO«>2>,
Attorn c y at La. w
A’i J COUNTY COURT SOLICITOR.
Will give particular attention to the
col’cctioii ofelaims. Get 20.
.f «It it t' ■ S« i-si ii so u ,
ATTORNEY & COUNSELLOR AT LAW,
KING. i(*N. GA.
Ts )R XCTU’Ert L\ vv in the several »u»-
| ti,.* „l t in: Ob ->!«'•• ( rcnit, also, Polk,
if, ~t j ~1 111 !•'<•> 1 e iu:U:08, Prompt nt
-I,.iiltor i;ivvii to hu..i.>. • •••! ' 'V. 2A. ly
. j,. i • ~( r ,>;10 cash per annutn.J
JOHN J, JONES
ATTtJR'NLY AT LAW.
( 'in It r-i l/r, Cii.
ITTII.I tt. ml pi-, "ijitly to :11 bud less en■
'vi-iist-d t« his i no. Will practice in
re* a,,:, p.h'. ntlllCia'ftV
I Ml., ri.il aUc.itioii «tve»t.- use collet.
...... „. ~| . Jan. 1. lhott. ly
.| ,h i .!* .lon*
JO 11 H J. J ON ES
II ST,i la SVL'E r,
~ ',.,,1 ~ _ i; h*vo mi Visnl several
II .T, 1.1.1 •’ iMKt .il*> eroV t>'i'l*l)nK lot* n» tti»
l , ,;V An . . o.val , lioa.aH ns a van
; ■ .i * i ,1,. 1>« tt, • it* *I«S M I>«‘ or
„ • , l. veil H!*« Alee uuicuUOi.B
l\ u i* o* c o an u fit «
r. ;• - dentist.
r „,„1, .1 n -oieotfuHv oiler his pro
i ~T; ~1 L./rvices to the cs t :-/.. n« «1 Car
.‘ . .. 1 viciniiv. He is prepared
I i„a h of fy'... USt work belonging
: ... .V,|. ihi ‘•'• ,4j7T Kah setts Os
. , ~. ivoia plate. '.Vnrk all war
!•'. M. JOll^CtO-^.
. f.li It. 6n»° |
I>1? i'. F. JONISB,
rpr.M-.-t „sl,is „rof.-sion«l sc,M,. sto the
' c , |,-1 \ <;s J'ON and vicinity, nnu
* ~'VtlVv -otic its a portion of then patronage.
DR. HUGH A, BLAIR,
tax* aw«» Sm-Si*»n.
<;.;>■ r:, if. Otorgin.
1? *> on I t.V „ ; n.'e.s!.sr.rctossk. U »l services t.
L -• ... . «t., ~l Ce on Main St., late rest
’ . •«. .. N uv.it .lane VI.
n" i o i !«’• 1 “•
T) w o a.
£ .M« t-. f- ‘ ■ ' ..V'VGAAL'A'R
. ;i , oaw'u,.^-.
n. . k B**t ■ M#y lo 1
i, au i r Hou sc,
M A Rli'. I r.\, OA.,
F,Y ELLISQM A 03833, Proprietors
rpuis 11 Hl-c • lecitcdio a fev, atrpaofihe
3 1*,.;. ~,1 where t e ca-s stop. Tassenirem
a all hours. jiuy
's. Li. V a tlill o,
, V ;-i Mte. dpmmp'v t.. $,.• <V*» dIG
Vs ..... i>l .luJll-vAand M.-.-.'-’Cl.' «• |
J. . ~. rn'.au B,mUt:A\v »Mote. ]f j
C »rtei'*vill«, Ua.
Dr css Tailor.
n. IS to e\«>«’Ute nil kinds
Tfi „fw *rk in tin 1 Fashiail.ibk- Tull- r&'J
| f i u <rl«m' with anil in
ia!'!i stylo. (Ivor J. lLc-us AV j s store,
i i: ; ille, :
~ J*. W- MAXWELL'
1. nreimvni l. do all kinds of "" rK i,”
r-tone at *h.«tr» tlce. Ilw <«* * h
burned'sick and is prepared to no » ■> -r
in : ; re.v • »b o tcrtej. ~T
Our u tLh, Muy <> ‘ * ••
The I'iirlersviUc SI U 5,
PK THOMAS Mil AM havA
cluu.uo of this House, won I .' A BJ} *,
pn asoil to di\omm nlato a t.-w i««*i yj ®
ers with BOARD, with oi with. ut ««&='
JsOilging. I aUaiil see him a* nice tor rrn*
Carn rsviiie, Jan 1 T.
James \7\ Strange,
PLAIN ANO JAPANNED TIN W/.A, &C.
Clean l.inon net Cotton K-r-’ >-1 n -n e\-
change tor Goods. lxcp.ttrin *. R .y ml
Gutt’ -in*: .1 in’ with neiti.t.-si 1 , : .
CariiTso iiie, Noe
MEADOR & BRO’S:
TOBAC C O
Com mission Morelia; it ?.
(UNDER UNITED ST ATES HOTEL.)
ting 15, w3ca,
THE CARTERS VIIJ *E EXPRESS.
J. (J. Btock?,
ptPPEr-TFri.hy notl'y t .e I’ul.l.c generally that
ll I r lias j at Gpiroi-I hi* New amt C> inm.«ti
ihUVKl V AND tiAl.h «TAUr.h, ar il his It stock
«<l w:»h t-i. i horaes. bug/lee. Ac., is prepared to
furnish tli' ~' traveling lot*) ncl a* r.«n the e-u try
vv !h any kln.l *.f pH.ate '-.uvyance. Me U a'su
prepared to In.iird K*..ek Hi any i oo.slty with comfort
„t'• guarters arc! hoen-ifiil f.- ii »> '-raoiiHble rates.
St' i-.k bought and so; 1 hi his p*ahle«. His stock all
t»,*ing fresli e.tn! e<|iiiphye '* "■ he flsoer tiinueif w.t-h
U.e i-elirf that he can f ,rnlsb lcs customer, _wnh as
nest ill i complete an one-lb as sny Hue t oah ishiuent
*ll Cppef Georgia. All he a.*: . *«> erteh'Mi iht, fm-fla
a tiial. OAKTERSVILJ.Ii, Cl A., March 22, 1 >O7.
We are requested by C'■!• J. G. iStocks to an
nounce to the public, that he lias bought out
tin I.ivory Stock of J. J. Jones Jr, and that the
two Stables will he consolidate !, and that the
foil, wing list of prices will be strictly adhered
track horses.and driver per day tT.-h
r„r. 11.,-ijy arul Drivei f >.'■!
Horse & Buggy “ “ ♦ : '
** •• X day
Sadd-e horse P" ’ “ Jr'l’ 0
\\ T . L. Kirkpatrick & Cos., JuiiggLts,
\T7;i I*l* keep constant on hand a well
V\ seeded stock of pure
DRUGS AND MEDICINES.
v / x r % »„ c * xt. p ,
T tent r,Medicines' Sec.
Jones’ Carriage Repository,
BT, f, X A TANARUS, l C F F B; 7 A X-
J’y Erwin & Jones.
VSfJORTITD sizes ■ a I'll Land. Also
wot)]) COFfiys ..)* to order. A
good HBA KSE r a.l . at ah h airs.
CARTERSViLLc, IWh I, lS'i?.' wiy
Olio 3E»3 T3 !!!
AMpers,,,!. unit' :i and to the (id Mercantile
I’rms a: of HOW AR\), (STOKE f* V «v < 0..
and J, A. iV ts. Eli\\ T.\, o. n-pe.eli ihy urg
ed to make Ldcral i..i; nii'Ue. uu i.!a. ..c debts out.
ot the pieaent ivllc.it en p. .'.ll \ilto refuse ;o
(‘spend to ibis only j.. 0: ‘payment will
lie sued. 'J |,i sedebts are iron- .- ix to ter: years
• tan-’ aa an i loiigi r nn:uhreuce • inot 1;• uc
eii. fad at J. A. ERWIN A: fO.A sU , rli
where tb. ••Uiiiiis are, an-: -maku linerul pay—
in on is a till save suits.
Gurlersviile, Ga., June Iff, ISG7.
s.vv: F.L CuAVrON, R. A* Glattos.
S CLAYTON & SON,
DC U.UW IX
AEG COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
Wel;«ep a general stuck and can furnish you with
■l‘:y‘. in,‘,V“U «i,:t. C metoS* us-Vwe will sell yng
,and :., .1 itii- . hie j.■ iv l , Oioori and loi k ~t our
>t ek—N" iianr. lin e it *ve caut-irade.
Ts fi lends lai nr u» wtih c. i s'-i.m. l.ts or order?, we
vrill use “Ui i veiy nn pon. niwtholr tnterest*.
BUTTER, EGGS, DRIED BLACKOERIE3
taken at market iMies f » l
Glean Cotton and Linen
ffrjj) -p\ -<rs
a. , n . *5. ihci/ntcastur,
/ V'i; .letvcllt'f ami fVatcEi ami
In the Front of A. A. Skinner & Go’s' store-
Ourtersville jan 25
W. A. Shackleford,
lVliolcsale and Retail
AND COMMISSION MERCHANT,
t GENT FOR UNIVERSAL LIFE IN
JY. SU iAN CE COM F\N \ . ,-t New Vork.
Otiic- in new Store next o Pest oTee.
Aug. 15 wtc
\ | It. G 1 ; TRIE who has recently Lcat. u
C inou ■ town js now receiving his fall stock
: hr, G oils, N ■ <si -ns, Boo ! , Shoes, Hats
A e. sVe,
1! has ’ployet’. as salesmen, two most ex
<-i:i v ■ men < t our mid ?.Mr. \V. L.
, ...V •’o tr town and A. V . CIIaP.MAN el
Ac afu.iher evidence of pood taste, he dr
sut s ro stiow to i,’! a we- assorted stock of tail
go and will 1 , ui'■ •, ,a* : -
iigiasr young men free of e«'st,and sold for as
small run.’:,ut ’i money os the same goofs
cat. he purchase and elsewiiere.
i’.s?. 'fell - .very body to brin^ 1 fur skins by
h- hundred—lie wants 5000 -Mink sCn
I caught after Is: Nov., wi l pay most for those
In ; -jilit. Com. and bnv Steel Traps.
Remember Hie place, P.u-t Oifiee street, lirst
1 door north of Capt. Jones" brick Law O.Tn-«
Cartcrsvilie, eJ a -
Sept. CO, 1567.
1 ffi nh ii
B* Jfall anD ffliuftr ,OT
(£!ol|iiig, I’oofsimb S>|ocs,
C* %$t kll %
. ri r,n. r.j\
bought and sold
■ Highest price
F '0 P it
5 ii 1 1 If
12 E E S W A X ,
.« a tSf P 'fW ,4TJ
Han i& r 4 m %
a 3 &. © 9
c\l* p o
Agt. for wrap-
buy It in an y
quantity at Mill
Oct 1~, IS67—wly.
C'ARTERSVILLE, GA.. NOVEMBER 15, J 867.
liook to Your inter 1
AT LOW PRICES,
rpflE under si g-ned takes phasure in annonn
-1 eingr to th*‘ c i*i/*'os ofU irtow and adjoin
ng counties, that he has just opened oat a
fresh and well selected stock of
OF ALL VIRIETIES,
usually kept in a till Y-COODS Store,
all of which was bought on the eery best terms,
and I am willing, and can allbrd, to sell at as
as any’ one, and flatter myself thtt I can give
230t1j in Clualitp anlt
to any one who will favor me with a CALL,
Hoping to receive a liberal share of patronage
from my old customers and friends and the
public generally. I await your call,
P. L. MOON,
CARTERSVILLE, Oct. 17, 1867,
FALL AND WINTER TRADE.
JLSILMTH & SON.
HATS, BOOTS, AMO SHOES,
N. Gilreath & Son are happy to announce to the
citizens of Cartersv'lle and sourrouuding country,
that they have greatly
ENLARGED THEIR STORE-ROOM,
and one of the firm has been on to market and selected
since tlie I2ecline in prices,
One of the L r’g e st,
and most superb
Stocks or DRir-cs-ooDs
ever before brought to this Market,
and are now receiving and opening the same,
to which they invite the of the public gener
ally—not'only to the r GOODS, but also QUALITY
ASD PRICES. They defy any merchant in this sec
tion of country, to under-ell the n. They say this
much because tr.ey are sanguine that no merchant in
th • South struck the markets in a better time tc buy
go ds cheaper. We are thankful to our patrons for
past patronage, and earnestly roiicit a continuation of
the same for the future. N. GILHEATLL &. fcON.
CartersviUe, Oct. 24,— w2m
W. A. 9EWEESE,
Dctflt r in
&C., /G C.
Store opposite t!ie Courthouse, on Maine
Street, adjoining the new l-rick store oi P. L.
Moon ami Cos. ect 17, wtf
MRS. R. J. MATSON announces to the
ladies of CartersviUe and surrounding
country, that she has opened, in Cortersvdie. a Mii
licery and Mantua-Making Eatabiiilßncut, and trill be
happy to receive ca'ls from ail those rrho are in need
o: anything in her line, as she pledges herself to sell
as good nr do stork as cheap as any like establish
ment Sou-1 , expenses considered. Her goods are of
the lates: styles and her work will be made to corres
Rooms over Dr. Clayton's Store, la-ely occupied by
lais, McClellan. Oct; It, le€t. wS~.
AFAR I.Y THE DESERT.
°f the following poem, by the late Thomas
* ‘intjje, a Scotcuman, who lived reretal years
" l,!e border of the British co! my of tire Cape
«» ’ '<>d II »:*•*. and who wrote it in reference
r •!••* i>vs «rt in that part of the world, the cel
i.riU'd Coleridge says: “I do not hesi ale to
tc.-ire it among tl.e two or throe most perfect
rv p-ii ;ns m our iaiiguyge :
Altr m the Desert I love to ride,
“htlie si! nt Bash-boy alencby my side;
W hen the sorrows of life the soul o’ercast,
And, sick of tacjPresent, I cling to the Past ;
W hen the eye is auffttsed w.th regretful tears,
Erom the loud racollee iors of former years,
And shadows ol things that have long fled,
Flit o'er tiie brain like ghosts of the dead ;
Bright visions of glory— that vanished too
Day-dreams—that departed e’er manhood’s
Attachment—-by fate, or by falsehood rest ;
Companions of early days—Lost or left ;
And my native land, whose magical name
Thrills to my heart iike electric flame—
The hours of my childhood, the haunts of my
All the passions and scenes of that rapturous
When the feelings were young and the world
Like the fresh bowers of Eden unfolding to
All—all now forsaken—forgotten—foregone;
And I, a lone exile, remcmlierod by none,
My high civas abandoned—my good acts
Aweary of all that is under the sun,
\\ ith that sadness of heart which no stranger
I fly to the Desert afar from man !
Alar in the Desert I love to ride,
V\ ith the silent Bush-boy alone by my side;
When the wild turmoil of this wearisome life.
With its scenes of oppressoin, corruption and
The proud man’s frown, and the base man’s
The scorner’s laugh, and the sufferer's tear,
And malice, and meanness, and falsehood and
Disposed to musing and dark melancholly ;
When my bosom is full, and my thoughts arc
And my soul is sick with the bondsman’s sigh,
Oh ! then there is freedom, and joy, and pride,
Afar in the Desert alone to ride !
There is rapture to vault on the champing
And to bound awoy with the eagle’s speed,
With the dead-fraught firelock in my hand,
The only law of the Desert Land !
A ar in the Desert I iove to ride,
Witli-the sib-nt Bush-boy alone by my side;
O’ -r the brown karro, where the fleeting cry,
Os the springbok’s fawn sounds plaintively;
And the timorous quagga’s shrill whistling
Is heard by the fountains at twilight grey;
Where the zebra wantonly tosses his mine.
With Itfpf scouring the desolate plain ;
Ami ii." lleet-iooi. h oat.ieh tUa 'i-f.y l y,
Speeds "like a horseman who travels in haste,
His.-ing away to the home of her rest,
Where she and her mate have scooped their
Far hid from the phtiless plunderer’s view,
In the pathless depths ot the parched karroo.
Alar in the Desert I love to ride,
With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side ;
Away, away, in the wilderness vast,
Where the white man’s foot hath never passed,
And the quivered Coranca or Bachuan
Hath rarely crossed with his roving clan ;
A region of emptiness, howling and drear,
Which man hath abandoned from famine and
Which the snake and the lizard inhabit alone,
With the twilight bat from the yawning stone ;
Where grass, nor herb, nor shrub takes root,
Save poisonous thorns that pierce the toot;
And the bitter melon, for food and drink,
Is the pilgrim’s fare by the salt lake’s brink ;
A region of drought, where no river glides,
Nor rippling brook with oasiered sides ;
Where sedgy pool,nor bubbling fount,
Nor tree, nor cloud, nor misty mount,
Appears to refresh the aching eye;
But the barren earth, and the. burning sky,
And the blank horrizon. round and round,
Spread—void of living sight or sound.
And here, while the night winds round me
And the stars burn bright in the midnight sky,
As I sit apart by ihe desert stone.
Like Elijah, at Horeb’s cave alone,
“A still small voice comes through the wile,
(Like a father consoling his fretful child)
Which banishes bitterness, wrath, and fear,
Saying—man i? distant, but God is near!
Joke os a Constable. —A “cute”
State constable, meeting a tin peddler,
asked him if lie had a license to sell.
••No,” was the reply:
The constable hastened to procure a
v : ot. and after a long day’s search,
t Kind the offending person and brought
him before a magistrate, when he was
asked, “Guilty or not guilty ?”
-Not guilty,” he quietly answered.
“Don’t you peddle goods around
hen ?” asked the judge.
“Well, then, sir,, have you a license
to do so?”
“Why, did you not tell this gentle
man that you had no license?”
“No, sir!” said the peddler.
“Yes, you did,” shouted the tipstaff.
“No, I didn’t,” quietly replied the
“I say you did,” vociferates the
“I swear I didn’t,” repeats the
i “You asked me if I had a license to
! sell, and I told you I hadn’t; and 1
haven’t a license to sell,yar I want it
to peddle with!"
An exchange says that sunday-school
teachers in Columbus give scholars cir
cus tickets as rewards of merit.
Jlsl AELSOA'S R EVE AGE.
I always like coming straight at
things, so if I am going to tell what 1
know about this, I ask your leave to do
it in my own way, for I'm a plain man
with plain words n;ul have no knowl
edge of writing fine, so here goes:
1 was married to Susan Galley on the
first el February, in tne year, 1863, at
■ s t. Haul's Church, Ilighford street,
which may be seen i.y looking at the
writing in the books. Iler lather is in
the butchering line. He suvs tome
when I asked for Susan : “William,”
says be, •■(>’ course I have a liking lor
my little girl, ami likes to see her well
settled in life and happy, and 1 ask you
as a man and a lather, what’s your
“Susan’s fathei,” says TANARUS, “I drive as
you know, on ihe Great Eastern that
goes across the country, with <£2oo a
year and fuel, and I'll take care ofvour
Susan and be a kind and dutiful man to
“William.” says lie, shaking my hand
with tears in his eves tlw.t the bleating
of all the lambs lie's killed in h'.s day
couldn’t bring, “you can take her ami
good luck to ver, though since Iter
mother was thrown sh’s been bite and
sup to me, and ’Eaven help but she
may be she same to you.”
Well, I was going away feeling hap
py’ along of the case with which things
was working, when be called tne back,
saying, “William, I aint a wicious man
nor yet a backbiter, but 1 must say that
if you take Susan you get an enemy
along with her.”
“Siia !” says I, taken quite aback.
“Fact,” says he: “That Jim Nelson,
has been hankering after my little girl,
off and on ; but site don’t iike him.—
No more do I ; and no more do you.”
1 nodded “yes.”
“And he told me one night that he’d
be an enemy to him that got Susan,
without, ’twas himself.”
“Never you fear ; I thought that it
was them lawyers that might be (hiving
of us apart,” said I, laughing heartily:
but the old fe'low shook his head in
a doubtful style.
Well, we—that is, Susan and I—
were wedlocked, as they call it, gav
and happy as a marriage bell ; and we
were coming out of the church, when
up came Jim Nelson, white around ihe
mouth and nose, and he whispered to
me, “William Rogers, there’s some
thing betwixt you and me so long as
you live, which won’t be long.”
What he said he said quickly’ and
before 1 could get Susan’s arm ofl, so
as to give him a clip, Susan’s pa—who
was walking behind, with a white rose
in his mouth —stepped up, and, being a
strong man. he caught Jim by the
shoulders and turned him round, and
gave him one with his boot. I think it
was well done, for he rolled down th ■
steps and into a hole that the sexton
-.*_J—“" ' j worse. I
didn’t feel like laugYi'fng, I<sr It secmeu
unnatural; and that <1 ~y was, to me,
happy, and I wanted it so all round :
anti it felt as though triy engine was
running over the sleepers, instead of on
the rails, when Jim got up out oi the
hole, all dirt, and stood, as pale as a
ghost, shaking his fist at me and Susan
without speaking a word.
I couldn’t shake off the remembrance
of it all that day nor the next, and a
kind of dread stuck to me. In spile of
all I could do the thoughts of it would
come to me suddenly in the oddest
places, and I began to feel a little
strange. It wasn’t fear for me at all,
but 1 kept thinking, suppose that he
should do some harm to Susan when I
was away on the road, or come and
scare her with his white face. By
George ! thinks I to my self, I’d tie him
to the track lengthwise and run over him
if I thought he’d do that. 1 know it
was a cruel thing to think ot him who
had done me no harm, but l was jusi
so savage along of thinking of his
wanting to come between me and my
The next day I went on my route as
usual, which was from Croydon to
Pallerton, just 103 miles. 1 drive the
Nestor with the express down in the
morning and then back to Croydon
again, starting at about four o’clock in
the afternoon ; though that is not quite
certain, as we have to wait for passen
gers by the boat, and that is kept by
storms and such like, though on the
average the time doesn’t vary more
than fifteen minutes.
In the winter time as it was when
this h appened, of course it is as dark as
pitch when we run into Croyden,
without there’s moon ; and I always
look well at the head light and drive
with toy eyes well open ; and I gener
ally Let her go full, as the track is well
cleared of special trains at that time,
and the way they have of telegraphing
nowadays, keeps me well pasted about
t;,e track ahead by tlie signal lanterns
aiong the road. So you see 1 felt pret
ty s'de, and knowing 1 was a careful
man, 1 didn’t iiave much fear that 1 and
let anything go that would show that
Jim was going to get his revenge by
doing m>; a barm on the road, or by
spoiling v n potation san engineer.
For, do von see. the idea struck me
that, knowing tiie road hunseif, and ail
its workings, that he might think it was
easy to hurt me that way, and so 1
kept my eyes open.
The next day I looked at Jim s
house, which is about twenty miles out
of Croyden, in the woods, and near the
track, and I saw him standing in the
door way scowling at me, or, least
ways, where be knew I was, for lie
knew my train and habits, as we were
churns once. He kept his eyes on the
cab window, and as we got almost out
of sight, I looked round sudden, and
saw him shaking Lis fist at the train.
Thinks Ito myself when I saw that,
j William Rogers, you look sirup wher.
you come buck over ibis room urn ight;
iikmi that have a spite tint lives as
strong as that, two davS end two nights,
ought to be looked .alter. aud more than
that. Susan said to me that morning
"’hen she was pulling my dinner in the
pail, says she, “William dear"—
es, Susan,” says I, with my mouth
lull of bread.
“William, Would it make much dif
ference it you come in an hail an hour
late to-night with the train ?”
“No, Susan, perimps not.’’ You see
I half knew what was coining.
“Because I’m afraid, almost, of
something ; don’t ask me what it is, for
I don’t know myself. I (eel it. some
how a.nd want you to diive slow, and
promise me, William dear, to look at
the lanterns and things, won’t you ?’’
“Susan,” says I ki-sing of her, “I’ll
walk her all the wav.”
And that was what I was going to
do. I made Collins, the fireman, mail
as a March hare by making him go
through the wheels twice with a ham
mer before we started hack from Ful
lerton that night, 1 went through the
engine myself, examined the springs
and levers and had two extra men put
or. the brakes and an extra lantern fast
ened on the engine in front of the boiler.
They all laughed at me, but I kepi on
till 1 felt that tilings were as they should
When I was speaking ol Jim Nel
son’s house in the woods, perhaps 1
ought to have said that he was a wid
ower and had a liltle tot of a baby, and
I noticed it as I ran by that morning,
playing round m the door-yard. I say
tiiisso that that which comes after may
be better understood.
Well, we started back at 4:20, that
is, hack to Croydon. It was storming
as l thought it never did before; the
clouds rolled up black and the wind
came down through the mountains cold
and blustering, i shut her all uptight,
and turned down the light in the cab
so that I might see better how tilings
went outside. Pretty soon it came on
to rain, mixed with hail, and the night,
came down blacker than before. 1
kept my hand on llie lever and my eyes
on the broad streak of light that lit up
about two hundred yards ol the track.
1 let her along easy at about twenty
miles an hour, takin a look now and
then at the cars and keeping an eye on
everything. We ran on this way stead
ily for two hours and lost fifteen min*
Dies, anil still everything was right. 1
kept my course, as the danger com
menced now if there was any at all.
The storm and rain was worse than
ever, and heat against us like mad and
blew the smoke and steam down over
us so that 1 felt like stopping altogether,
hut of course that wouldn’t do. \Yt:
kept on this way another hour, feeling
our way carefully. About twenty a fi
ll r that l trot oil my seat to look at ihe
Oil cups and gauge, when quick as
pL—n.*- tin* fireman, jei ked
inv" arms Ann miouibu, »«v«o Vtotl,
there’s a child crawling on the track !”
I shoved my lever back and pulled
tiie whistle valve short and quick, and
opened ihe cab-window anil jiimpped out
on the engine- In doing so, 1 thought
afterwards l must have kicked the l«■ v* r
back again. At that moment what 1
saw made me forget everything else,
lor sure enough, about two hundred
feet in front of the engine in the mid-dh
of trie track was a little one, km ling
on its hands and without moving, bill
looking straight at the light ol t hi
lantern. God help me ! says 1. slicing
the poor tiling must he killed il Idttln t
help it, and l scrambled forward past
the boiler, and out on the cow-catcher.'
Tire wheel, ot the cars grated, but
the emune was working harder than a
had that night. I couldn’t stop to
think why ; and putting my feel be
tween the bars, 1 caught hold ol th<
shackle with my left hand and leaned
forward over the track. 1 shut mv
teeth together tight and held on like
death, knowing well that a slip ol my
hand or foot .would end me.
The poor cowering little thing crept
away to one side, but was so scared
that it had sunk down and was laying
on its belly across the rail. “God help
it I” again says 1, bending low down;
and 1 struck my arm out straight and
stiff, with my hand an inch from the
track. In an instant l shoved my
hand under the body of the child, but
pushed it along about five feet before 1
could cb'se my band on the dress, then
1 lilted it up over my head and pul it
on the platform benind me, and Hi' n
quick as may be 1 followed, bw l b n
kind of weakness coming over me. 1
took the baby in my arms, but wa urn
weak to go back, so 1 sat there. Ii
engine was going like lightning
the rain was beating in mine an ! ti"
baby’s face, and the wheels were grind
ing and roaiing, and afore heaven 1
never was so womanish along with <» ;y
dauber 1 have been in as i was lueu,
with the poor little tiling, and it arms
around my neck ; ud sobbing as if its
heart would break. I was only there
a minute, and was nearly fainting, whan
l heard a shouting louder than the
storm and the nose of the engine, and
i opened rov eves and saw the figure of
a man about thirty yards in front of Ihe
! ei: ine. lie stooped down, then jump
led* up with something large in his
I hands, and threw* it oil me tiac.,, then
|ne oid it again and again. He worked
quick and wild like, and just before the
engine reached him he jumped on, and
waved his arms at me and the baby,
and the glare ot the lantern fell on him
at that instant and showed a face which
was pale round the lips and nose, euch
as l had seen before.
Well, I got bacK to the rah with the
baby and whistled the brakes off, and
went into Croydon 35 minutes behind
time. 1 told Susan all about it and she
tooked to the baby in fine style, and
| she and 1 sat by the tire that evening
! miking and wondering over what had
! happened, when a knot’k came to the
| door, and l went to it and says “who’*
“It's me,” sms a voice which was
| trembling as though the man was cry
ing; “let me in Rogers; I’m Jim Nel»-
«on ; I’ve got nothing agin’ you and
Susan now, God knows.”
So 1 opened the door and he came
sfaggtringas if he was in liquor and'am
white as snow ; then he looked arouij<|
i tie room and seeing the child in Susa*®'
lap he ran to it, aud kneeling do#lT :
burjed Iris face in its clothes, soil sem,
bed and cried as 1 never saw a inarti
before or since. After a while he got
a little calmed, then he stood up and
turning round to me he says ;
“William Rogers, I meant to do VOO
a harm to-night, out von save 1 the lit
tle one tor ine,j>which is all l have
love in this big world; yon took one ’
away from me, and 1 thought to merit!
by hieaktng; but, William,” lie went
oil “1 wasn’t the old Jim Nelson, who
is a true man and who is speaking to
you now, and so I ask lorgiveness of
you and her.”
Then Susan and I slmok bands with
him, but we could not speak a word;
then Jim stooped down and took the
baby into Iris arms, and said, as a last
word to Susan and me :
“God bless both of you for man and
wife,” says he, “and mav you always
be happy.” Then he turned away
and shut the door behind him and went
out into the storm and rain, and I have
never seen him since.
[From tho Richmond Register.]
Goats. —A drove of Cashmere goats
!!ow the Toll-Gatherer w:i*
Most every one is familiar with tho
mode of driving (?) a drove ol mules.
It is on the inverse system. The dro
ver duys up from fifty to one hundred
young, unbroken mules, and, mounted
on abrood mare, they follow after tho
same as do sheep the bell wether of n
flock. For a great many years ail old
trader, familiarly known as “Old Sol”
who, if he ever possessed any other
patryuoinic, had probably forgotten the
(act —was in the habit of bringing in
from the West a large drove of the
long eared animals and disposing of
them to the fanners ol South Jersey.
The last business visit lie made to that
section was about the time the turnpike
mania raged, and a single bar was
stretched across nearly every public
road, to pass which required the pay
“For every dozen of horses, mules
or cattle, 6 cents per mile.”
“Old Sul” had passed something like
two dozen Os these bars on the way
from Camden to Bridgeton, paying the
legal exaction at each under protest
and in very profane language.
Nows not disposed of a single triple,
««•*-«! J- - -• a ’iyr f n jho «if o,
journey, he was beginning io wtu-jr
from a drouth in Iris pocket, and to Iris
dismay saw the inevitable bar once
more before him. Looking around and
finding that his mules were browsing
along the road some two or the hundred
yards behind, he hurried up his pace
to the gate, paid a single toll for the
horse he was ruling, aud made special
request. of the gate keeper to shut it
sher him, and stop them darned mules,
which followed him the last two or
“■Certaifilv.” said the* accommodat
ing m te keeper, who had it locked Ul
Jess time than it takes to tell it.
••Old Sol” started off again on a.
frisk canter, which his mules soon
imitated, and tis they came to the bar
went over it in one two three o-der, to
the astonishment ol the keeper who
saw the point of the joke in a lew
moments, and acknowledged himself
A Juvenile “Show.” —l,astsummer
a little boy only five years old invited
me into the summer-house to see his
“show.” 1 paid a penny at ihe door,
and gravely seated my self on a bench
to wait for the performance to begin.
There was a piece of twine stretched
across the summer-house,-and Master
llarrt took his seat beside it, saying ;
“These are ray tamed grasshoppers
in this box, and I’ve tenchcd 'em to
walk on a tight-rope ; now you’ll see.”
He took a great brown grasshopper
from the box, placed him on the string,
nid to my astonishment he crawled
sjotvly along il to the other side, and
made no attempts to jump off. At last
I solved the mystery, and found that
bi.i legs bad been removed, so of course
tie could do nothing but crawl.
••Why, Harry,” 1 exclaimed, “how
could you be so cruel?”
“I didn’t hurl him a bit, auntie,”
was bis confident reply ; those great
ihingft were just in the way, and ‘he
never could walk like folks.”
“Is.it it di , hurt him, Harry,” I ex
plained ; “his long legs were a part of
bis body, jus* ns much as your legs are
a part of you.”
“Wasn’t a speck of juice in ’em,
aiiy.way ” persisted Harry, looking
rather soberly at bis ramegrasshopper,
“and I tliougi : if it Hurt him, he'd said
something about it.”
“A great many* little insects liave no
power to cry when they are in pain,
but feel pain, just tit* same as others.”
“Oh,” said Harry, “he’s deaf and
dumb, ain’t lie? Well, 1 won’t tanuj
uiv more grass).uppers , but these two
are spoilt already, and 1 guess we’ll
go on with th- show.
—The negroes who have shafted o it
lands in the neighborhood 0 l Norfolk,
refuse to surrender them to the U. S.
authorities-—go armed to public meet,
ings, and declare t'nt-ir inteniou to hold
the lands at all hazards.