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THE STANDARD AND EXPRESS
OLD SERIES, NO. 575.]
By SMITH, WIKLE & CO.]
CORNBURY.
A CUItISTMAS TALE OF THE OLD
DOMINION.
B V JAMES FRANKLIN FITTS.
IV
From Ballou’s Monthly Magazine.)
[CONCLU I)£D FROM OUR LAST.]
Hypocrisy has been called the most
contemptible of human weakness ;
but we all are hypocrites in lesser or
greater degree, in one sense or other
of the word. Not a day passes that
we do not dissemble our actions, our
motives, onwlw whether for good
purposes or otherwise, let each judge
for himself.
M »rk Parley had practiced some of
this every-day commou-place hypocri
sy in his interview witli Nelly. He
had absolutely declined to use the
money she offered him so freely, and
had given her to uudeistand that he
was not the least in need of it, that he
had the means with which to provide
his outfit; when the disagreeable fact
was that he had not the money, that
he did not know where to obtuin it,
short of borrowing, which he was sen
sitively averse to doing, and that the
necessity which thus stood directly in
the way of his cherished plans was
troubling his mind most painfully. A (
false pride, which has often and again
been the curse of greater men than he,
had forbidden him from accepting the
offer of his affianced, as he might have
accepted it in the same frank honest
spirit in which it was made ; and ho
now crossed the fields on a short cut
to the place of his engagement, ab
sorbed iu deep and troublesome
thought and mentally anathematizing
his poverty as he proceeded.
A loud gruff voice from a clump of
treeß hailed him ; and seeing a man
emerge from it, he waited until he
came up. He recognized him as he
came slouching along in a half-sailor,
half swaggering gait, as Bill Grains, a
worthless follow, known far and near
as a fisherman and hunter. He was
a rude hirsute chap, with a tawny
freckled skin, loose but powerful frame
and limbs, and a hoarse voice that
was not pleasant for a stranger to
hear. Very little good could be told
of him, if nothing criminally bad was
known. He took inordinate quanti
ties of whiskey, and was sometimes
quarrelsome, but as a rule he was
harmless and peaceablo.
“ I say, young sir—”
This was his invariable way of ad
dressing Mark, making these -two
words very emphatic, as if he meant
to convey a mark of great respect by
their use. Murk had sometimes smil
ed at the grotesqueness of the expres
sion, knowing that it was appliod to
no one but him. He had improved
opportunities to do this uncouth man
favors ; had often employed him as
chain-bearer in his surveying, and bad
more than once volunteered friendly
remonstrance with him about his be
setting sin. He was well aware thut
Bill regarded him with much partial
ity, and upon this occasion he rather
expected to hear a drunken outburst
of his affection. But as Bill ap
proached nearer, he saw that ho was
perfectly sober.
“ I say, young sir,” he said, “ hero’s
a merry Christmas to you.
He held out his horny hand, and
Mark good-naturedly took and shook
it.
“ The same to you, Bill,” ho replied.
“ I suppose that’s all ? I must hurry
on, for I’ve au engagement to meet.”
“ No, young sir, that’s not quite all;
you just wait a minute.” Bill balanc
ed on one foot and then on the other,
and said, “ I hear you’re going way
out West for gov’ment.”
“ Yes, I have decided to go.”
“Now, young sir, please dou’t take
offense at whut Bill Grains may say ;
but he has a notion that a man might
be in want of money at such like a
time, and no blame to him neither.
You see, I know how it happens some
times about there bein’ a kinder sud
den call like, when a fellow hadn’t
calkerlated, and—”
“ Well, well, Bill; cut all that short,
if you please,” interrupted Mark, rath
er testily. “ Allow that I do want
money ; what of it ? You can’t help
me.”
“ Would a thousand dollars be
enough, young sir?” Bill eargerly
asked, not heeding the remaik of the
other. . .
“ A thousand dollars! Why, ff is
double what I need. But why
“ Then here you have it, young sir
—a thousand good dollars in gold
eagles, put up in this here canvass bag.
A little hefty, to be sure ; yes, but
you kin carry it. Take it, young sir,
for Bill Grains'Christmas gift; and if
after that same Grains has rotted
many a year’n under the.grass, you
happen to hear any whiffet on two legs
yelp that Bill Grains was a worthless
scamp, you jest tell him he s a liar,
and I’ll be obleeged to ye. You
needn’t halt a minute about takin’ it,
nor ax me why I want to give it to
you, nor have any suspicious scruples
’bout takin’ it from me. Lord bless
you, young sir, there’s no man got any
claim on that money or right to it,
when I give it to you, and you take it,
don’t*you never fear that ‘stop thief
will be cried. Dou’t think Id make
you a gift to bring you iuto trouble ;
no, no— iot I. Take it with never a
fear • I cau’t tell you where I got it,
tut I bold up my hand here now, and
call God to witness. I’ve got good
right to give you that money, an’ you
kin take it with clean hands. And as
for the ‘whv ?’—who’s alters treated
poor Bill Grains like a man ? Who *
allers been kind with his faults, and
patient with him when he was in lick
and never willin’ to curse him for
a Can drunken dog? Who? Just
“ _ i air VOU.
one has ; you have, young sir, you,
IZ no other man. An’ now will yon
? H over iust one thousand
dollars? Well! call it horrid then, if
that’ll make it any the earner to take,
and you can pay me when _ you and
to ; bat I tell y®} 1 . a o J§onnt square,
wouldn’t make . . j> ve pretty much
but " 1 d0
pray, it’U be foi ) ou. mau - g kund,
He seized tbe polled off over the
wrung a^,i ar ing in the wood
wfreuoo «amv. Mark weighed the
heavy bag in his hands, as if he feared
that it would vanish ; and to make
sure that there was no deception, he
untied the string at its mouth, and
pulled out a handful of newly-minted
eagles, shining most pleasantly’ to the
sight. The whole affair had been so
astounding that he could hardly
frame his mind for deliberate thought;
but as he pursued his way, the bal
ance of his decision was to accept
Bill’s assurances that he might hon
estly take the money, and to take it,
as a simple loan, to be repaid as speed
ily as possible.
Mature reflection confirmed him in
this opinion. A week later he hud
bidden poor Nelly a sad farewell, and
made his adienx also to valued friends.
He reported himself at Washington,
and purchased his outfit ; and a month
later he had biddeu good-bv to civili
zation also, and plunged with his ad
venturous party into the desolation of
prairie, forest and mountain, which
for the next two years was to he their
home.
V.
*• Time-rolls his ceaseless course
and though two years may appear an
almost interminable peifod to parted
lovers, iu the prospect, yet it will
swing round at last ; and it certainly
did in this case. The needs of our
narrative have nothing to do with the
details of what Mark Darley did and
suffered iu this time ; they are con
tained iu a black-bound public docu
ment before me, which uuy one can
get by taking the trouble to write to
his representatives iu Congress for it.
The service was arduous, difficult and
responsible, and Mark acquitted him
self admirably, and won unbounded
praise from the press, the government
and the people, besides more substan
tial rewards. He found himself ac
knowledged everywhere as the mau
whoso perseverance, skill and knowl
edge hud made the expedition a suc
cess ; and the fame was of that solid
kind that outlasts life and makes it
self known to latter generations. But
enough of this ; we come down to
another Christmas at Judge Cornbu
ry’s, when Mark had been ten days
returned, and by the pressing invita
tion of the judge nad taken up quar
ters at his house. He had come back
taller iu form, more manly iu propor
tion, and bronzed and bearded ; but
unchanged iu sentiment, and with the
lovo of Nelly Bliss still bright within
him. And Nelly, a little quieter, per
haps, with the effects of long parting,
and the two years that made her so
much the more womanly, found in her
returned hero all that her young love
had painted him, and—but after that
is asserted, why attempt to add any
thing further ? It is only too true that
all waiting maidens, after a like proba
tion, have not been able to say the
same.
These ten days had sped happily
awaj, and Christmas was come again.
Two things only had occurred to Mark
iu this interval which he thought very
remarkable ; one of which was that
Bill Grains sturdily refused to take
back the money he had advanced to
him.
“ Not a dollar, young and honora
ble sir,” he answered, adding to
Mark’s titles. “ I can’t tell y u now
why I wont take it; but I wont, and
that’s flat. Without disrespect, my
young and honorable, I’d rather you’d
not ax me why. You’ll know some
day ; yes, I’m certing you’ll know
some day.”
This was all that could be got from
this odd being on the subject ; and
Mark was compelled to leave time to
unriddle it.
The other singular circumstance
was that Major Dycer seemed still en
tirely oblivious to who fact that Mark
and Nelly were betrothed, and expect
ed to{be united within the coming year.
With a coolness which belonged eith
er to the most brazen effrontery of the
densest ignorance, he continued to
press his unwelcome favors on the
young lady after Mark’s return, as he
had done during his absence not
withstanding her preemptory refusal
in each instance. He ignored Mark
as entirely as though he had never
existed ; and the friends of the latter
advised him that it was the intention
of Dycer to force a quarrel 011 him
and kill him. His conduct certainly
looked like it, and the young man,
smarting uuder repeated insults, would
probably have precipitated the affair,
but for the earnest prayers of Nelly
that he would avoid all collision with
Dycer. Matters stood in this critical
posture when Cbristmas-day came,
bringing with it a strange and dread
ful climax, with the relation of which
our story will end.
The ordinary festivities of the day
at the Cornbury place had progressed
as far as a turkey-shoot in the after
noon, which was held in a broad field
a short distance from the house. A
largo crowd was in attendance, and
the shooting had not been remarkably
good, when the judge and Mark came
over to the shooting-stand ; and soon
after Major Dycer and Bill Grains also
appeared from different directions.
“ Let us see one of your best shots,
Bill,” said the judge. Bill was a noted
marksman, and nobody cared to com
pete with him. He now advanced to
the stand with his rifle,
took quick aim at the turkey on the
box a hundred yards away, and fired.
The man at the box held up the bird,
wltli tko keiul severed close to the neck
This was one of Bill’s common per
formances ; but the crowd gave a
murmur of admiration.
“ Let me try," said Mark, as a fresh
bird was placed in position.’ “ I learn
ed to shoot a little out on the plains.
Let me see what I can do.”
A loaded rifle was banded him, and
he fired with deliberate aim. The
man held up the turley, and a shout
of applause greeted it Bill’s sbouhud
been exactly repeated* the heud was
cut off close at th« n fc k.
“ 3ood for the a nd honor
able!” Grains vocife&hed, dancing
about Mark, and swiugi g kis cap.
*• I’m proud of you, I am There ain’t
another man in the crowi can do it.”
“ I can do it. Give nie\ rifle.”
The speaker was Major He
walked up to the stand, ant took one
that was handed to him. Ihe crowd
The Family Newspaper—Devoted to Science, Art, Literature, Education, Agriculture, Political and General News.
CARTERSVILLE, GEORGIA. THURSDAY MORNING, DECEMBER *l, 1871.
gttheroi closer, aud interest and cu
riosity ran high. Dycer had never
been known as a shot; but on the
other uaud Mark Darley had not been
either ; and some agreed that if one
could shoot well, the other rnigtlt, too.
Ai any rate, he was about to show
them.
llis first motions showed that he
whs unaccustomed to the use of the
rifle. Instead of holding the piece
vertically while springing back the
hammer, to avoid all danger from ac
cidental discharge, he held it awk
wardly to one side.
“ Take care 1” Mark shouted. “ You
are pointing directly thi3 way.”
The caution was of no avail; the
piece was discharged before it came
to the shoulder. There was a groau
aud a mau fell to the ground.
A scene of the greatest excitement
followed. The spectators thought
lessly crowded around the wounded
man to ascertain who he was, and
how badly he was hurt, and for some
minutes there was nothing but con
fusion. Then the voice of Mark Dar
ley was heard, in peremptory com
mand to to the people to stand back.
The command was slowly obeyed,
and the outward movement disclosed
Bill Grains lying on a cloak that had
been spread out on the snow. He did
not appear to be bleeding, but was
entirely unconscious.
Dycer sprang forward as he saw
who the wounded man was, and
stooping over him, whispered in his
ear ; but the whisper was not heard.
Those who afterward recalled the
incidents of this affair noticed that
Dycer’s conduct seemed to have been
very strange. He did not exhibit any
distress on account of the occurrence,
merely repealing the words in an or
dinary voice :
“it was au accident, gentleman ; I
call you all to bear witness that it was
only an accident.”
His great anxiety seemed to be that
the wounded man should be removed
to his house immediately.
“ Come, boys, take him up and car
ry him right over yonder to my place,”
he urged. “ He’s been hurt through
my carelessness, and I’m bound to
take care oi him. Bring him right
along.”
‘‘ Wait till the doctor has seen
him,” interposed the judge. “He
may think it best not to move him
any further thad is absolutely neces
sary. Ah—here he is.”
The doctor, who had been sent for
with all haste, now arrived, and push
ed his way to the side of the wounded
man. He removed his clothing suf
ficient to allow an inspection of the
wound when his examination was
very brief.
“No hope at all,” he said decided
ly. “ The bullet passed through the
abdomen, and I think through the
spine, for his lower limbs are par
alyzed.”
“ Can he be moved to my house ?”
Dycer eagerly asked.
“No ; take him to the very near
est place.”
“My people are making op a bed
iu this outbuilding, right here,” said
the judge. “He will be comfortable
there, poor fellow, tflid it is but a very
few steps.”
Dycer clutched the doctor’s arm,
and whispered the question with
startling eagerness :
“ Will be have his senses before he
dies ?”
“ Yes—most probably.’’
While they spoke. Bill opened his
eyes and groaned.
“ Lift him up carefully now, care
fully,” said the doctor.’
“ W ait 1” said Bill. “ Where’s John
Dycer V
They looked around for him, but he
had suddenly disappeared.
“Have him arrested, quick!” Bill
said. “ He’s a murderer, and I want
to say it to his face before I die.”
“ You’re wrong, Bill, about that,”
Judge Cornbury remarked. “ This
was an accident, be assured.
The eyes of the dying man bright
ened with quick intelligence, and he
rejoined :
“ No, I don’t think he meant to kill
me ; he meant that that shot for a
better man than I be, that’s a fact.”
With the vfords, his finger pointed to
Mark. “ I saw it in his eye.”
“ That’s true,” he repeated, as he
saw the looks of amazement and
doubt that the words had caused.
“ But no matter about that now ;
there’s another crime that he’s got to
answer for, and I want him arrested
’fore I die. Have it done, judge, will
ye ? And now let me tell you one
thing—you needn’t look for him at
his house, nor anywheres else about
here. He’s astride his fastest horse
’fore now, and ridin’ like mad out on
some of the roads. He knows well
enough that I’ll tell the whole truth,
since I’ve got to die myself We or
ter both have swung together long
ago ; but I’m overtaken at last, and I
mean he shall be too.”
“ My poor fellow,” said the judge, I
fear you are wandering. W hat do
you accuse Major Dycer of ?”
“ Judge Cornbury,” said Bill,
speaking slowly and deliberately, but
evidently with much pain, “ you had
a youDger brother once, didn’t you ?”
The judge’s face clouded, and his
eyes grew sad at the question.
“ Yes,” he replied.
“ What became of him ?”
The judge looked about him, and
saw the eyes of many of his neighbors
fixed curiously on his fuce. He hesi
tated, and then said :
“ I must speak with humility and
shame of the fortunes of th t brother.
He was a few years younger than I,
and I loved him as a man should love
an only brother, and meant to give
him a share in our father’s estate,
which the law gave to me. But I was
too proud and high spirited in those
days ; and because Walton married a
girl of very humble family, though a
worthy girl, I renonneed them
and drove them from my house. God
knows, I have bitterly repented it
since, and tried to atone for it ; but I
never could bear anything directly
from him him. I wrote, but got no
answers to my letters. He w'ent to
England, I heard, and he is dead to
me, if not to the world.”
“Judge Cornbury, your brother
came back here seventeen years ago
last night, with his little boy, bis wife
bein’ buried beyond seas. He came
back to find you and make up the old
score, and he had twenty thousand
pound with him in a belt Well, the
short of it is, John Dycer and me laid
oar wicked heads together for that
money ; and as we couldn’t make out
to get it any other way than by killing
the poor gentleman—we jest killed
him, and threw his body into the riv
er. Dycer struck the blow, but I was
with aim, au’ I’m jest as guilty as he
is.”
“ In God’s name, can this be true?”
the horrified judge exclaimed.
“ Sartin—every word of it. I’m
dyin’, judge, an’ I know it; an’- if I
go before God Almighty with a lie od
my lips, then may he judge me with
out mercy. Jack wanted to kill the
boy too ; but I saved him and -took
him off down to Richmond. Then he
grew up, aud his blood showed itself
iu spite of everything ; and then he
came up here, queerly enough, aud
settled down—and in short, hfiu irtfj
you’ve known by the name of Mark
Darley is the sou of the mau we mur
dered that night, aud your own nev
vy, Judge Cornbury. His name is
Walton, too ; I heerd his poor father
call him so.”
The judge would have fallen to the
ground with the emotion caused by
these astounding revelatious ; but
Waltou, hardly least amazed, though
with greater strength to bear the
shock of these disclosures, supported
him with his arm.
“ About the money,” BJi continued.
“Os course Jack Dycer got most of
it; and that’s what’s built his fine
houses and made him so rich, he, all
the time, rnakiu’ people believe he was
heir to an aunt in ilie lugees. All
that he’s got is yours, Mr. Waltou,
aud the law must give it to ye. My
share, as I said, was mighty little ;
Dycer was smart aud cuunin’, an’
kep’ it all in his own hands, only
dolin’ me out enough now and then
to keep me still. Now, you’ll know
where that thousand dollars was got
Young sir, I squeezed it out of Jack
Dycer a purpose for you, he hever
imaginin’ you was alive.
“ I’ve nothin’ to say for myself ;
I’ve been desperately bad, and don’t
deny it. That poor innocent gentle
man has haunted me most ever since,
and I’ve suffered dreadfullj, just as I
deserved to. Now I’ve told the whole
truth ; and before I die I’d like to
know that Jack Dycer’s brought to
book.”
Bill was carried into the house, and
carefully tended. He lingered through
the night, suffering acutely, and talk
ed much more ; but he said nothing
to conflict iu the slightest with the
first statements he had made. His
deposition was carefully taken down
and verified in the presence of a mag
istrate before he died, and the evi
dence was thus upon which
Walton Cornbury at one**. umrie suc
cessful claim to the ill-gotten estates
and wealth of John Dycer. Within a
month after this day, the law installed
him as sole proprietor of his great pos
sessions.
A few words will suffice to tell the
fate of Dycer. It was discovered by
the sheriff, who went directly from the
scene of the tragedy to arrest him,
that he had just saddled a horse and
galloped away. A posse of mounted
men was instantly called out, and
fresh pursuit was made. The chase
was continued for several miles, and
then it came to an unexpected close.
The fugitive rode a blooded mare,
much superior in speed to any or the
horses pursuing, notwithstanding
which he whipped and spurred her in
cessantly. The spirited animal was at
last driven frantic by these unaccus
tomed goadings, and bolting from the
road-track, she dashed sideways with
great violence against a stone-wall.
Between horse and wall, the misera
ble rider was frightfully crushed ; and
when the pursuers came to the spot
where he had fallen from the saddle,
they found him drawing his lastbreath.
He died before he could be conveyed
back to the scene of his crimes and
detection.
Waltou Cornbury stood by the
graves of his father’s murderers, and
learned there the impressive lesson of
this tale. It was beyond his ken, as
it is beyond ours, to kuow how it
seemed well to Providence that his
poor patient and long-suffering father
should be hurried out of the world by
a bloody death just at the time that
life seemed promising some peace and
rest to his weary soul; beyond our
ken, because we have never reached
into the hereafter in our groping, and
our ways aud our compensations are
not His. But Walton could at least
learn the truth of His words—“ Ven
geance is mine, I will repay, saith the
Lord ;” and his uncle Richard, hu»-i
bled in the very dust and ashes of his
pride by the revelations of that Christ
mas-day, and penitently acknowledg
ing his grievous fault on his knees, al
so thanked God that so much of con
solation was spared his old age in the
love aud tender care of the son of that
deeply injured brother, to whom he
hoped to make some reparation for his
injustice to the father.
VI.
On the very next Christmas-day
there was a wedding at Judge Corn
bury’s. Everybody was happy on
this occasion, and the festivities of the
time were celebrated with double the
usual zest. There was a brilliant par
ty, there was eating and driuking
enough, one would have thought, to
last till the next Christmas ; and there
was a good long evening of that hear
ty, vigorous dancing, which we have
pretty much superseded by a kind of
listless walking after music which we
call dancing. When it was all over,
and the new life of this man and wo
man who had been made one was be
fore them, I am sure that they had
gathered from the experiences of all
these Christmas-days that we have
been telling about, something of the
true spirit of 'hat first Christmas at
Bethlehem, which I trust we may all
make a guiding star of our lives—
“On Earth Peace, Good-will to
ward Men. ”
TBS ESP.
POETRY.
=A
[From the Opelika Locomotive.
MOBDECAI.
It was Hainan, rich ami great.
First fiddle in the State,
Who couldn’t shut his ere
To sleep nor slumber; why?
For early and for late,
And forever, at the gate.
Os his Lord and master, sate
The rebellious Mr. Mordecai!
And his bloated carpet-bag
Grew billious at the rag
Os the very ragged Kebcl sitting nigh;
t And he set himself to fix
The doodlest of tricks
For the hoisting of Mr. Mordecai.
So he went and builded straight
A gallows at the gate,
, A gallows that was forty cubits high,
W ith a scaffold and a rope,
’ And a trigger, in the hope
i Os strangling Mr. Mordecai.
But the King, a kindlv soul,
lie took the tallest pole
‘f Os the callows that was forty cubits high;
And on the stiffest limb
Made a pendulum of him
That was Human, and not Mordecai.
And we see him swinging slow,
Through the ages, to and fro,
A warning to the world from the skv,
With his earpet-sack to choke him,
While the little boys to joke him,
‘How is that for (Mr. Mordec) in?’
Now! yc men of Belial! Heed,
in your guile and in your greed
Os your neighbors’ neck and pflf,
How a mau may build a gibbet
And thereupon exhibit
Nobody but himself.
“ ZE D-N POKAIRE !”
It must be told, this story on our
French friend Mousieur le Blanc, who
was a passenger on the Strader a few
days since from New Orleans. Short
ly after leaving the Crescent. City the
French gentleman was introduced to
the jolly Western pastime called po
ker—a game he did not understand.
Nevertheless, he proved to beau apt
scholar, and was soon found “ bluff
ing” and bettiug with a courage quite
astonishing to behold. Monsieur,
however, was an easy goose to pluck,
and, as will naturally be inferred, he
was a heavy loser before reaching St.
Louis.
We met aud embraced him (French
man fashion, you know) shortly after
the steamer had landed at the wharf.
We saw ha was greatly troubled in
mind. At his request, we accompa
nied him to the Southern hotel. On
our way he spoke in a sad, mournful
tone.
“Ah, my friend, wat is zat game
wat you call like zis ?” (and he push
ed his cane backward and forward).
We at once comprehended.
“ Poker 1 That’s it, eh ?”
“Oui, zat is him! ’ banging
the cane down on the sidewalk.)
“ D—n him! Dat game cost me one
tonsand dollaire ?”
Again we comprehended. Our
French friend had, during his trip up
on the Strader, bet two heavily on
“Hairy pair,” and had suffered. We
patted him on the back and told him
not to feel discouraged, that he would
have better luck next time.
“ No, saire !” lie exclaimed. “I no
ask for more luck. I no play no
more—what you call him— pokaire?
”No, by d—n, no more ! I no more
wish to hear ze name of pokaire iu my
two ears ?”
We reached the Southern, when the
Frenchman, fatigued by his journey
and distressed at his loss, sought his
room. The weather was damp and
chilly. He rang the bell, when a ser
vant appeared for orders.
“ I want you to make ze fire burn—
I want him hot.”
“ Aye, sir ; I can do that with the
poker.”
The Frenchman groaned, and
frightened the boy with a look of sav
age despair.
“Youd—n rascale,” he moaned,
“if you say pokaire to me I will cut
your throat off close to your head!”
The servant hastily left, and saw
nothing of the Frenchman until the
next morning, when he found him
inquiring the way to the dining
hall. He was not yet iu the best hu
mor.
• “ Zis is ze way to the breakfast ?”
he asked.
“ No, sir, that door leads to an
ante-room.”
The Frenchman became excited and
confused. He muttered through his
half-dosed teeth :
“By gare, I shall quit ziz house.
I ask for ze make ze fire burn, and
you say he want pokaire. I tell you
d—n ze pokaire. I ask for za break
fast, and you show me to ze anti
room. I tell you d—n ze anti! I
lose one thousand dollaire, and no
more anti and ze pokaire.”
Saying which he hurriedd down
stairs, where we met him thoroughly
convinced that everybody in St. Louis
paid more attention to poker than to
any other branch of business.
“ Up. ” —“ Good morning, Smith ;
you look sleepy. ” “ Yes, ’’ replied
Smith, “I was up all night.” “Up
.where ? ” “Up stairs in bed. ”
Sambo had been whipped for steal
ing his master’s onions. One day he
brought in a skunk in his arms ; says
he : “Massa here’s de chap dat steal
de onions j Whew—smell him bref!”
An Irishman noticing a lady pass
ing down the street, espied two strips
suspending from under her mantle.—-
Not knowing that these were styled
sashes and were hanging in their right
places, he exclaimed, “An faith, ma’-
am, yer galluses are loose !”
Two Irishmen, one sultry night,
immediately after their arrival in In
dia, took refuge under-ueath the bed
clothes from a skirmishing party of
musquitoes. At last, one of them
gasping from heat, ventured to peep
beyond tbe bulwarks, and by chance
espied a fire fly which had strayed
into the room. Arousing his compan
ion with a punch, he said, “Fergus,
it’s no use. Ye might as well come
out! Here’s one of the craythexs
sarchin’ for us wid a lantern."
A lover consulted a lawyer about
carrying off an heiress. You must
not carry her off,” said the latvyer,
“but she can carry you off, Let her
mount a horse and hold the bridle
and whip, and then you get up behind
her, and let her run away with you
andyou’ll be Safe.” The next morning
thelaw r yer found that hi* daughter had
trn away with the said young man
n the aforesaid manner.
CARTERSVILLE ADVERTISEMENTS.
REMOVAL.
TOM BMDGrES
Has rsmoved his
EATING SALOON
AND
CONFECTIONERY,
To Judge Parrott’s new build
ing, under Town Hall,
C.IRTERST'MEL,E, 6.1.
Ol aud after the loth instant,
Single Heal. 50 Cents.
Hoard—per month, 818.
FRESH OYSTERS
Confectioneries, Fruits, and
Family Groceries ke; t on hand
and for sale. sep lo
METALIC AND WOOD
(IMITATION ROSEWOOD,)
BURIAL CASE
C A S K i-. T .3.
BY
Erwin & Jones.
Carerrsville, aug. 22
BARTOW HOUSE,
CARTERSVILLE, GEORGIA,
J. T. Guthrie, Propritor.
IS now in thorough repair, and fully prepar
ed to entertain all who may call. The rooms
and furniture are kept in the neatest order, and
the Tables supplied with the best the Market
affords. No pains or expense will be spared to
render all guests of the House comfortable.
A NEAT BAR
Is kept, in rear of Office, where fine Winess
Brandies, Champagnes, Cigars, etc., can always
be touna oct6
WILLIAM (JODIE,
mm sc
REAR OF W. C EDWARDS’
O- ea r Shop,
CARTERSYILLi; GEO.
I AM prepared to do as good'work, and will
do it cheaper than any shoe-maker in town.
All I ask in proof, is a fair trial. Half-soleing,
Foxing, and making Boots and Shoes, out and
out new, is my business. Don’t fail to give me
a trial, that is all I ask to secure custom,
oct. 24, ’7l-swly.
Groceries and Provisions.
J. G. M. Montgomery,
BEGS leave to return his thanks to the
good people of Cartersville and vicin
ity, for their generous patronage for the
past year, and to ask a continuance of the
same for 1871.
I shall try, at all times, to keep a com
plete stock of
Good Family Groceries,
and shall, in the future as iu the past, sell
them at “Live and Let Live” prices. Try
me.
Fresh Arrivals.
Ilominy, Buckwheat, Flour, White Fish,
Trout, and choice New Grleans Syrups, at
MONTGOMERY’S.
Can Goods, etc.
A full line, including Oysters, Salmon,
Lobsters, Peaches Strawberries, Cherries,
Pine Apples, Green Corn, Green Peas, To
mattoes, at MONTGOMERY’S,
Bread Leavens, «fce.
The celebrated “Horsford’s Bread Prepa
ration,” Corn Starch, Silken Gloss. Starch,
Desicated Cocoa Nut, Maccaroni, Pickles,
Jellies, and a fine assortment of Colgate’s
Toilet Soaps, at MONTGOMERY’S.
Just Received
Buckets, Tubs, Brooms, Baskets, Washboards,
Trays, Scrub Brushes, Rope, and Seives, at
MONTGOMERY’S.
For sale, at MONTGOMERIES.
geo. jTbriant
(Is himself again.)
WHOLESALE and RETAIL
DEALER IN
All Kinds and Qualities of
Liquors,
And can (Sell
jts Cheap as any other DeaLr
in the Souths
AID WILL BO IT !
OILY
Try Him !
He also keeps a number one slwk of
FAMILY GROCERIES
and CONFECTIONERIES,
On Eastside of the Railroad.
GEO. J. BRIAIT.
apr. lwly CARTERSVILL.E* GA.
IT IS EVEN SO ! !
The station is fast becoming a
CITY", Thkkefore, you should endeavor to
make all things NEW ! ! !
PAINT!
PAINT!
PI?!
you wish it done right—
I If you wish it done at low figures—
you wish it done promptly—
U®*-CALL ONJjjgp*
J. W. DYER,
feb. *l-w2m CARTERSVILLE, GA.
ATLANTA ADVERTISEMENTS.
Fbrioe&go.,
ATLANTA, GA.
TO MERCHANTS!
FRESH INVOICES CUTLERY!
ASSORTED CRATES NOW ARRIVING
FANCYGOODS
An Immense Invoice especially for
CHRISTMAS k HOLIDAYS!
New and Elegant Goods
FOR
DOLLAR STORES
AND
FIFTY CKXTS STORES,
Decorated Dinner
AND
TEA SEITTS,
KNIVES AND FORKS,
CASTERS, GOBLETS,
VASES FROM AUCTION,
CHEAPER THAN 1 U*Y CAN BE BOUGTII
FROM MANUFACTURERS.
nov3o ts.
LAWSHE & HAYNES,
Have on hand and are receiving
the finest stock of the
Very Latest Styles
of Diamond and Gold
JEWELRY,
in upper Georgia, selected, with cat care for
the
Fall and Winter Trade.
Watches,
of the BEST MAKERS, of both Europe and A
merica;
American and French Clocks;
sterling and Coin Silver Ware;
and the best quality of
Silver Plated Goods,
at prices to suit the times;
Gold, Silver and Steel
Spectacles,
to suit all ages
Watches and Jewelry
Repaiesd by Competent Workmen;
Also Clock aud Watcli Makers
Tools and Materials.
sept 13,-swly ATLANTA, GA.
SHARP &FLOYD,
Successors to Geo. SHARP, Jr.,
ATLANTA, GtY„
Wholesale And Retail Jewelers.
Wc Keep a Large and Varied Assortment ot
FINE WATCHES, CLOCK,
DIAStOxVOS, JEWELRY,
AND
SPECTACLES.
SOLID SILVER WARE,
A SPECIALTY.
We Manufactuae Tea Sets, Forks, Spoons.
Goblets, Cups, Knives, etc.
Jfyemiums A'gtricultuiial Tfai»[S.
We arc prepared to fill any order for Fairs at
short notice; also to give any information in
regard to Premium*.
Orders by mail or in person, will receive
prompt and careful attention. We ask a com
parison of Stock, Prices and Workmanship with
any house in the State.
Watches and Jewelry carefully Repaired
and Warranted. Masonic Badges aud Sunday
School Badges made to order.
All Work Guaranteed.
ENGRAVING FREE OF CHARGE.
SHARP; & FLOYD.
May 33, swly.
F. ffl. RICHARDSON,
Dealer in
Stoves,
Grates,
House - Furnishing Goods,
TIN WARE, «fcC.,
Corner Whitehall and
Hunter Streets,
Atlanta, Ga.
jan- 1, 1871-vrly
[NEW SERIES, VOL I-NO. 7
R. F. MADDOX,
WHOLESALE DEALER IN
Tobacco, Segars,
AND
LIftUOES,
ail-Road Crossing, National Hotel
Block, ATLANTA, GA.
Agent for the sale of Virginia and North
Carolina Tobaccos. may 9-wly
SIXTY-FIVE FIRST PRISE MEDALS AWARDED,
WM. KNABE & CO.,
Manufacturers of
PIANO FORTES,
R.tLTINOBK, JI1».
These Instruments have been before the Pub
lic for nearly Thirty Years, and upon their «.
celleuce attained an vnpurcktuied. iire-em>’’tenet
which pronounces them unequaled, in ’ ' ’
TONE,
TOUCH,
WORKMANSHIP,
And DURABILITY.
I@“ All our Square Pianos have our New
Improved Ovkrstki no Scale and tlio Agraffe
Treble,
fcgf-We would call special attention to our
late Patented Improvements in GRAND pt
ANOS and SQUARE GRANDS, found in no
other Piano, whioh tiring the Piano nearer Per
fection than has yet been attained,
EVERY PIANO FULLY WARRANTED FOR FIVE
YEARS.
Weir' \\ e are bv special arrangement enabled
to furnish PARtOK ORGANS and MELO
DKONS of the most celebrated makers, Whole
sale und Retail at lowest Factory Prices.
Illustrated ( atalogues and Price Lists prompt
ly luruislicd 011 application to
WM- KNABE & CO., Baltimore, Md.
Or any of ouf regular established ageuce
oct 23-tec
St. Louis, Memphis, & Nashville
Chattanooga Railroad Line.
CEJTTn.IL SHOUT ROUTE
Without change of Cars to Nashville, Mc-
Kenzie, Union City, Hickman, Columbus,
Humboldt, Brownsville, and Memphis.
To Jackson, Tenn., Paducah, Ky„ Little
Rock. Cairo, and St. Louis.
Thun via Memphis or Louisville, and Iroiu
Than via Corinth or Grand Junction.
ASK FOR TICKETS TO
Memphis and the Southwest via Chatta
nooga and McKenzie,
AND TO
St.'Louis and the’Northwest via Nashville
and Columbus—all Rail; or Nashville an
Hickman—Rail and River.
For Emigrants, with More Advantages, Quicker
Time, and Fewer Changes 4/ Cars than
any Other Route.
. Tickets for Sale at all Principal Ticket Offices
in the South. J YV. THOMAS, Gcn’l Sup’t.
W. L. DANLEY' G. P. 4 T. A.
march6tc
W. H. GII.BEKT. A.BAXTBH, T. W. BAXTBR, Jr.
GILBERT* BAITER,
(SUCCESSORS TO W. H. GILBERT & C 0.,)
DE.IEERs Ll*
HARDWARE,
IRON, STEEL, NAILS,
Clover and Grass Seed,
AGENTS FOIi SALE OF
Coal Creek Coal.
Peruvian Griiano.
And other Fertilizers.
Agricultural Implements,
AGRICULTURAL L MILL MACHINERY.
ALSO
GENERAL COMMISSION MERCHANTS
For sale and Purchase of
COTTON, WHEAT, CORN.
And all other
COUNTRY PRODUCE. COTTON, HAY,
AND OTHER PRODUCE SHIPPED ON
LIRERAL TERMS.
GILBERT & BAXTER,
Cartersville Ga,
Jan. 19, 1871—ly.
NEW GOODS,
WE ARE Daily receiving from New York
a New Stock oi
FALL «& WINTER GOODS
to which we invite the attention of our friends
and customers generally. We intend, if possi
ble, to sell so as to give satisfaction both in ref
erence to
GOODS AND PRICES.
Call and See Us,
W E ARE also prepared to purchase Cotton,
or advance money to Farmers on Cotton when
DELIVERED!
Holding the same until such time as the Farm
er may order it sold, charging a reasonable rate
of interest for money advanced.
N. GILREATH & SON.
Cartersville, Ga., Sept. 96-ts
New Route to Mobile* New Orleans
Vicksburg and Texas.
o
Blue Mountain Route
Railroad and its Connec
tions.
0
PASSENGERS LEAVIMG ATLATA
BY THE Six A. M. TRAIN OF THE
WESTERN; & ATLANTIC, arrive at
Rome at 10 A. M., making close connection
with
fast express traix
Os Selma. Dalton and Rome Railroad, arriving
at
Selma at 8:10, P. M.
and making close connections with train oi
Alabama Central Railroad, arriving at
Meridian .4:00a.m.
Jackson 11:50 A. M
Vicksburg p M
ALSO, make close connection at CALEBA
with trains of South and North Alabama Rail
road, arriving at
Montgomery 7:10 p. m
Mobile A ‘ M "
New Orleans 4:25 P- ‘
The road has recently been equipped and its
equipment is not surpassed by any in South for
strength and beauty of finish.
ffey"*No change of cars between Rome and
Selma.
PIJLLXAN’S PALACE
CARS
P ll } through from ROME VIA MONTGOMERY
to MOBILE, without change.
NO DELAY AT TERMINAL POINTS.
Fare as low ashy any other Route.
*s® Purchase Tickets via Kingston at tha
General Ticket Offlce, or at the H. L Kimball
House. JOHN B. PECK,
„ _ General Passenger Agent.
E. G. BARNEY, _
General Superintendent.
E. V. JOHNSON, Local Agent,
oct. 2—ts No. 4 Kimball House, Atlanta
[Terms—s2 A YEAR
