The Cuthbert appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 1866-1884, July 27, 1883, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextWA8 ,«? ,ZAX vft By J. P. SAWTELL.) OUR PLATFORM i " FEAR* THE LORD, TELL THE TRUTH, AND MAKE MONEY,” [Term*: $1 60 in Advance. —P VOL. XVTI. CUTHBERT, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 27, 1883. NO. 30 THE APPEAL Published Every Friday Morning TERMS: out TEAR..... II no •IXIM0CTH. 75 (lnvnrinbljr in advanct.) Atl papers atoppad nt expiration of tlmo'pidd for, un!e*» in cases where parties are known to ba responsible and thej desire a continuance. Advertising Rates Moderate. POWDER Absolutely Pure. economical tb: rannot be sold i multitude narrel of la*. ?.Ion» kinds, and ijghtRunninr ^newHomet SEWING MACHINE CO CHICAGO. ILL- 'ORANGE, MASS. and ATLANTA. GA. . bcgHiHaaEWlfegi— £ For sale by F. Pl’LA*K! & Co., 2-9-6m Cuthliert, Ga NO MORE EYE-GLASSES, Mitchell’s Eye Salve, A Certain. Safe and F.lTrctIve Remedy for Sore, Weak $ Inflamed Eyes, 1’roducinR l^ntf^teiabtednea*. and Restor ing the bight of tha Old. Caret Tear Drop*, Granulation, Stye Tu more, Ued Ky.s, Matted Eye I.aoh- ee, and producing Quick Waiting for Mother. dt mart p. iwxe. The old maosita in his eaay chair, Slumbering tbe momenta away, Dreaming a dream that Ia.aH hla won, On bit gUdaome, peaceful day! Ills children bare gathered from far and Bis cbildrrn’a children beside— And merry voices are echoing through Tbe “Homestead’a" ball to wide. But far away in tbe yean long Sown Grandfather Uvea again ; And bia heart forgets that It ever knew A shadow of grief and psin, For be *ws bia wile at be «aw oer then— A matron homely and fair, With her children gathered aronnd bit board, And never a vacant chair. Ob ! happy this dream of tbe•' Auld Syne,” Of tbe years long slipped away l And the old man's lips have gathered a ■mile. And bis heart grows young and gay. But a kiss falls gently upon bis brow From bis daughter’s lipa to true ; “Dinner it ready, and, father dear, We are on.y waiting for you.” The old man wakes at his daughter’s call, And be looks at tbe table near— “There’s one of ns mining, my child,” he says, “We will wait till motbcrils here.” There are tears in tbe rjn of bis ofcUtlren then, As they gsze on an empty chair ; For many a lonely year bus passed Since •'mother” sat with them there. But the old man pleads still wistfully : • We must wait lor mother, you know !*’ And there let him rest in his old arm-chair Till the sun at last sinks low ; Then, leaving n smile for the children here, He turnj from the earth away, And hud gone with “mother” beyond tbe skies, With the close ot the quiet day. Pearls of Thought. Hope it tlio brig!,teal star in the firmament of youth. ho knowH most, gritvts most for wasted time. Moderation ia the silken airing nning through tho pearl ch-iin of I virtues. A friend cannot ha known in ] prosperity, and an enemy cannot j be hid in’wdvcrsity. Tho gratitude of moat men is hut a secret tleuiio of receiving greutor henr-tits. Humility is u virtue all preach, none ptuetice, and yet everybody is content to hear A philosopher being a«kod to deti..o u quarrel, trnid : ‘'ll is usu ally the termination ol s miautider- standing.” Only that is truly beautiful which either has within it the ele ment of growth, or suggests vital energy ss its cause. We cannot be too much on our guard against reactions, lost we rush from one fault lulo aoolbor contrary fault. If we did but know how little some enjoy of the great thinga they possess, thore would not be much envy in the world. He who swims security down tbe stream of self confidence is in dangt-r of being drowned in tbe whirlpool of presumption. The pleasantest things in the world are pleaaant thoughts, and tho greatest art In life is to have as many of them as possible. We must distinguish between felicity and prosperity, for pros, perily leads often to ambition, and ambition to disappointment. One of the best rules in confer* ••lion >■. never to j a y a ii,j n g | Written for Tbe Chicago Ledger.] The Wrecker's Daughter. nr u. crossb farlby. ‘•You hear that, do you, tnaAm?” asked the old coast guard la a low tone, as the fitful sound stole over the roiling water. "It is an omen of evil, and we must heed it, W6 must return at once." “Pshaw l n I exclaimed, careless ly. “How superstitious you coast people are. I would not misa this sunaet for anything. It is only the simple tolling of a bell some where uear us that you hear.” - The old man glanced uneasily off over the glittering waves. Far away, small clouds bogan to pile themselves up in a long blaok line against the horizon, and a flock of gulls, that had been idly floating io the sir, now wont circling and wheeling and screaming over tho broad expause ot troublod sea around us. "For sixty years, madam," he retorted, with a sort of nervous determination, ‘Tvo lived on this coast, sod I know by this time that, whon tho toil of that bell ia heard, there is sure to be trouble on the sea." "Nonaento !" laid I, laugh ing "I'll risk it if you wi'l." He shook his head. "No, no. God forbid it !" he said, turning the boat about and making for the shore. “Terrible things have happened here, and if there was not a cloud in sight nor the ghost of a sigh in the breeze, yet if that beii tolled I should make for a info haven. It means trouble, storm end shipwreck.” And the obstinate old man shook his grizzled head with a gravity that impressed me, in spite of my disappointment. Tho wind, which had been gradually risine as he spoke, now canio in uneasy goals up«<n tho waters, piling tho waves up highor and making our frail boat rock ns if it wero be witched, while above the tremu lous roar of tho sea and the shrill scream of the gulls, at they swept in eddying circles over our l ends, came the measured stroke of tho mysterious hell. "It is St Quentyn’a,” add the obi man, in an awed tone, ns if in reply to niy mule query. "Not St. Qiicntyn** oo the* Point," exclaimed 1, in astonish- mcot. “Why, man,y- u’ro crazy, St. Queotyn's is only an old ruin, I saw it yesterday, and nothing much ia left of it save the tower, and even that is crumbling down. Ths hell itself is covered with rust ><nd look* ss if it hadn't been rung ia a century.” “It is the eanio, howevor,” ho persisted, as he tent the boat for* ward with long etrokes. “It is that which warns us. No man pulls the rope, indeed, there is no rope to pull; no one is ever seen about tho ruin, yet, surely as a great storm comes up, you may hear that bell toll., It hae been so through my time, and my father's time before me, and for years lie- foro that. St. Quentyn's bed is hauoteff, ma'am, And has been, so the story goes, since the time of Wolfgang, tho wrecker, a hundred years ago." I laughed at this piece of news. Haunted things, I did not believe in, much lees, a reputed “haunted (ablished themselves and engaged in tbe wioked business of alluring ships to this beaoh, for the sake ot plundering them. Many the etrong vessel that, attracted by the bea con fires lighted nn St. Quentyn's Point, has gone to pieces on the hidden rooks, and Wolfgang and bia free-booters, grew rich aud powerful on the spoils. Well, af> ter a time, there came along a Spanish galleon, driven out of her course by adverse winds, and with the doubloons and bars of gold, and chests of silks, with which she was loaded, was a greater treasuro to the mind of tbe wreck er chief, than all else put togethor. The daughter of a rich old Span* ish Don, was a passenger on the luckless ship, sod fell n prey to the rapacious freebooter. For the first time, he felt bis bosom filled with the torturing fires of love, and he conducted his wooing in tho bold, tempestuous fashion, natural to him. At St. Quentyn's, then, lived a pioua priest, and when the unhap* py dona discovered tho fate in store for her, sho full upon her knees and prnyod Wolfgang to •and for him and have the marri age soleraniz.-d according to the torms of her church. Nothing loth, ho complied with her request; and so, clothed in costly apparel and spurkling with jt-wels, one fine morning the Span ish gitl found heiHclf honoiuhly married to the robber king. In little more than a your, however, the lady died, leaving a little daughter, and rxuctiug with her last breath a vow from tho chief that tho little one shoold he sont to a convent aud reared in igno- rtin.o of her father's ocaupa lion. Wolfgang passionately loved his wile, nnd the promise was faithful ly carried out. The infant was sent to Franco, and tliero was carefully nurtured and roared in ooo of tho ■t celebrated convents. Sho grow to ntaindoulioud in tliut fa vored hind endowed with n glori ous beauty end a gentlo, loving disposition that was at the samo lime the wonder and udmration of hor associates. At the age of 17 sho was taken front the convent, and,through tho influence of a friend of her folher, a homo was secured for hor, for a time, in the family of a wealthy nobleman in her native county. She was a reputed hoiress, and suitors flock ed shout her, altraokod by hor wonderful bcuuty,^br gigleluss manners and her fabulous rtahes. At stated intervals, clothed in splendid attire, Wolfgang visited his child, lavishing upon her all the lovo of Ids barbarous naturo. For his child nothing was too good, and lie poured out his gold in unstinted measure. And she deserved ii all. Though clothed in magnificont array and endowed by heaven wits almost unearthly loveliness of face and form, her heart was kept unspotted from tbe world. 8ho succored the poor and the needy, and the fame of her goodness went through the land. The stern old robber chief, bear* ing the laudations lavished upon bis child, grew still moro proud and fond of her, and guarded from her knowledge with sedulous care the secret of Ms dreadful occupa* tion. Aod sf>* worshiped him. 6*e- | bell." StUI ( J could not deny, | ing her father only at long iMer* AU-,.l,.n ...d u | *hich «ny of Iho company <•;; vMt«r m»i«<u*s. •ue*> as Ulcers, Ferer Sores Tenors, tUH Iiheom, Barns, Pita, or vrharsvsr infltiJJHilon exists. Miihchcll's flaivs an* bo used to »dvaut*g- Bold by all DrngxisM at W cents. SEWING MACHINES, Vor esle cbeep io Mom oat. • T. 8. POWELL, Dragibt. Bookseller aod Suuiooer, A. i. HOLMAN & CO.'b BIBLES. -TRIBE Cheapest and Bees FAMILY BI- 1 BLE8 pebliebed in tbe world. Cea* Uinta? Revised Version of tbo Mew TesU ment, Photographic Album, new Electro type PUtesand Illustrations new •rigftol iWlcna and Patterns, Btbte Dictionary, Wo" n.ip. w «w uMj ota. S.llM.m roi Mourned In Mr other Bible. Will Mil. bMi.r Bible, ..d for Umdm- ey.iliu snjr sabecription agent in tbe State. ^“d'-Yt POWELL, Bookseller .odBulidMr. Bibles I Bibles! 1 it cots to prist tbetm. All style* and prices reasonably tt'sR ba bad Uft un said. ' Only one mother," read Jim* my Tuffboy, sa he glanced at tha beadliee in a newspaper. “1 should think that it was enough. How a fellow would catch it if be had two mother*! Two lick- iigi where I got one now, both ears pulled at tbe same lame, go without my supper twice in cue day, sent on two errands in two difiisrent directions at tbe tame tme! Well, I can't ba too tbaok folded ain't a Mormon. Tha small boy onravela tbe an cient stocking to secure yarn with which te make a base ball. When he bee the bell made, be eutt tbe leg off bis father’s boots to moke a coVer of; end when thb pa rent dicovers tbe liberty takett with bfo boot, the small boy wisi.ee be had need it as a lining for bli trouesm. that it was verj •fog;'- oi tne old ruet-oovared bell at 8t. Quentyn's, wbiob I had seen me day before swinging, high up in tbe ruined boifry of wbst onoe bad been a monastery, eboold sound a note of wanting to msrioers upon tbe •ea. “You shall tell me the atory,” I said, "if wa ever reach the shore again. It most be worth bearing even if I do not quite believe its genninenres." As the frail bark leaped on the creet of a were to tsfe landing on the graveled beach, a flash of lightning, followed by a peal of tbtftder, told that the storm was indeed open us. A little later, with tbe thunder ol tbe sek ringing in my ears, I lis tened to the stbty of Su Queotyn'e •on theiPdir.t. It wni bare; do ibis bdsst, more thin a hundred years eifa if ottr dites are correct, began the otd ex-tinabt guard, that Wynderl Wolfgang aod bke bknd of rovers sa* vals, and encouraged by him in tha dispensation of her charities, enjoying his society «»oly when he was in his best and gentlest moods, ths Lady Chnstob*! grew to wo* manhood, believing him to be the best and great eat of men. 8he went nbout doing good.— Emulating tbe oxtmple of the gentle Nasareuo, she left the crowded city and want into the by ways and forgotten places. In this manner, quite unknown t»’Wolfgang, she nnconsoiously made her way to Su Quentyn’s. Tbe bsmlet then, as now, was hut a collection of rode hate—tbe sb'tdo of e still ruder people.— None knew her to be tbe daughter of their terrible chief, and ehe labored among them end other wise endeavoring to alleviate the distress she saw on every side! Wolfgang hiraaslf, with some of his molt Valued followers, was aWay bn a journty, when btl daughter cattoe to Br. Quentyn’s. Bo there was Bone to oppose bet io her work for the salvation of souls. It was at this time that •he caused tbe bell to be rung in the old monastry; tbe bell which, •inee the awful tragedy enaoted there a Uttle later, has never ceased to tend out its solemn warning whenever there ie to be sny severe itorm upon the sea. It was there, high upon that rooky headland, io ths very shadow of tho ruined monaitery—a ruin almost as great then ns now, that the beaoon fires were lighted by tbe wreokere to entioe the whips upon the sunken rooks. The Lady Christobel saw with horror what tho real occupation of tbe people was, by tbo frantic har rying to and fro, the many anxious eyes turned seaward, and, above all, the low half-muttsred words whloh inadvertantly osoaped tbeir lips whenevor a ship’s sails showed themselves in sight. To turn them frum the wioked* es of their ways, sho strovo with mind and soul; but it was with a sick heart that sho discovered the lawless wrookerB acknowledged a superior authority in the com mands of their ferocious chief, a being to hor, Urrible and dread. Thero canio, at this ttmo, one of those sudden, unaccountable hurs riosne*, which, swooping tho sea, hurl ships and people into noth ingness in tho twinkling of an eyo. 8lio saw preparations going on i the shore that bodied no good for any vessel left afloat by the storm, and she determined that no far ns lay in her power she would succor the helpless. Night votlled sullenly over the troubled waters. Tho wreckers begun to move more quickly to and lr<> on the beach, and, sadder than all, there pealed out over tho sou tho sound of the minute gun—the signal of a ship in* distress. Once, twice, thrice, the thunder, ons gun sunt its messsgo upon the air. From hor small retreat the Lady Chriatobo! peered dimly over tho broad expanso of shore, and saw the glancing torches of the wreckers ns they engaged in ooun oil on tho beach. "Light up the bacon fires," roar ed a siraugoly.familiar voice, tho commanding tone of one accus turned to authority. “Light th great fire on St. Quentyn’s Point.” The girl shook as if with ao ague fit. "It cannot—cannot be,” she cried with white lips. A wrecker's wife stood stating out through the darkoers, every musclo strained to Its utmost ten sion with the excitement of the mnmont. "It Is stone," she laughed, clasp ing hor hands lightly together. 'Look, my lady, how beaatifnlly they are burning." Chrisloboi shook her arm rough ly- For the love of God, woman," sho exclaimed, ia a voico of agony, "go you among those wretched men, and tell them I forbid it. It is murder they are trying to do." The wreoker’f wife cowered before tho biasing eyes of tho girl. "I dare not/* she said, ‘It would avail nothing, for thoy have higher orders than yours," "Oh, pitying heaven 1" cried Christobel, "then will we go, snd scatter tbo burning brands our selves? Away—sway, there is no time to lose in idle word*.’’ “I cannot, I esnnot 1" ’ Christobel threw hastily a long blaok wrap about her figure, and seised a wooden vessel, used among the humble people, *for carrying water, "But I command you," she cried, “bear me, woman, tbe daughter of Wolfgang, must be obeyed." * The woman shuddered. • '* But 1 must not go, my life would be tbe forfeit. Do you tint know, my Lsdy, that it ie tbe great Wolfgang himself, who or* dere the lighting of the baeon fires. To extinguish them, U to be guilty of treason.” At the msstioo ef her father's name, the girl tank, as if she bad been straok to tbe heart. “There ia bet one Wolfgang, wQtllaO "aho said, ie a hollow voloe. *Jt cannot be Wyndtrt Wolfgang—my father." The wrecker's wife b^wed tow before her. , “He Is oUr chief, mjr Lady,” she bald simply, then; suddenly, with a food *ai!, she sank upon her knees. "But my tubgne bath lost me my head, my Lady," she went. “I have told tbe chiefs secret, and my children will be motherless if you bstrsy me to your father.— Have pity—ob, bare merey upon mel" But Christobel did not heed her. She sat motionless—a dumb, frozsn horror eeeming to chain ber to her •eat* rise upon him and kill him with their cutlasies. Foaming with rage and vexation the chief pace the sands, waitingd for the cry which he knew would herald the success of Ills lieuten ant In esrrying out tbs scheme. He had not long to watte. They had purposely used a large bundle (* of pine knots thetbird time, and the “My father, Wolfgang the ehief blazing pile loon threw its wery of the wreckers at St. Quon'.yn's Point," sbe said over and over again, in a terrible monotono, more dreadful to her bearer than tbe wildest shrieks oould have been. “My father a robber—a wrecker —a murderer I Oh, Thou God of my mother 1 who lotteit me hear this thing and live!" Pardon me, my Lady," sobbed the still kneeling woman, as she clutched the hem of Christobei'a robe. "It is a terrible mistake; I did oot mean to tell. The young girl shook tho wo man's hand from her garments. Her large blue eyes shone with an unearthly lustre, and her white faoe gleamed like a star from the masses of yellow hair that floated unoonfiiied about hor head. "I go to the sacrifice,” she breath ed, in an almost inaudable tone. "Oh, mother to heaven, be thou my guide nnd my stay !" A minute later and she had stepped over the threshold, and disappeared in-tho faslsiocreaiing darkness. Hastily making her way to St. Quontya's Point, she reached that place just in lime to aeo the fag gots ignitod by one of the torch lights. The men only stopped long enougo to seo that it would burn, and then went on their way to execute aome further order of their chief. ' Wolfgang bimselt wav now upon the bench, doling out liquor to his chosen followers, und watching with a pmciiced eyo tho long, lance like tongues of flame that now began to leap up in tho dark* uoss of the night. “Pilo on moro fuel, my ineu,” he cried, ua another roar from tbe ship's gun came rolling over the water. "Pile op those faggots higher. Oh, but it is a brave light those sailors shall havo to go to bed by I” bs sboutod, as tbe stream ing firos soon throw in plain roiief the atrange fsnlastio shadows of tho wreokers oo the shore. He threw a glance in tho direc tion of the old monastry. Again ho roared; this time in angor: "Light tho great fire on St. Quentyn's Point !' # "It was done, my chief,” said a voico at his side. "I myself Ut the faggots with my torch.” "Thon, by my beard!” cried Wolfgang, haughtily, “it was not well done. Thero is not the ghost of a spark tbsro, as you can see for yourself." “Strange!” muttorod his liea< tenant, hurrying away. “I never •aw a batter prospect for a fire than when I was there, a few min< utes ago." Taking a comrade, ha hurried to the point. What was hit sur prise to And tha embora extin< guiahed, and the faggoia oarefully scattered, far and wido. Hastily rearranging them, be again ignited tho dry wood, and watching it until it burned ap olear and bright, he rotorned aud re ported tbe oiroumstanoe to bia diisf. Wolfgang listened with a lowering brow. While they were still watobing the flsmea that had now begun to start up from St. Qaeutyn'a Point, they were astonished to see them go out. Wolfgang swore a torriblc oath, as ha beheld tbe extinguishment of the most prominent beaoon fire, “Ho, there 1" ba shouted, hoarsely; “a traitor tampers with the signal lights. Go, you, my faithful men, sad mate him out tbe doom he has courted aud which be riohly At different poluta the fires were as suddenly and mysteriously quenched, Wolfgasg strode along tbe beach, exciting tbe wreckers to iitimeditoe action. Four of bit blast trttsty followers were secret ly to steal tip to 8t Quentyn's Point, und alter replenishing the firs, was to retire tiantfoosly Into tbe thteketi, and upon tbe first ktiolfon ot tbe anknown eaemy to deatory tha flams#, they Ware to tongues far up in the inky sky, lighting the old monastery with a wetrod effect. Ho tiring into the dense shadows, they watchod for their prey, Soon a slim, dark figuro, with a iaro wooden vessel in its hands, approached, aod, throwing the contents of the samo quickly on tho blazing nine*, proceeded to settlor tho imokinc brands. Then there was a rush a single, awful shriek, and tbe cry of *'0h, myfiilhei!” poslod Out on tho night air, high above the roar of iho sea and tho sound ot the breakers beating on the shoro Tiie wrotched father recognized that terrible death*cry. In the traitor slain by the wan ing fire ho found his child, the Lady Christobel. Limp, motion less and white, she lay upon the wet earth, the blood oozing from a gaping wound in the neck in streams that congoalod beside her. “My child, my child!” groaned Wolfgang, in ao agony of frerzied grief, lifting the lifeless from in his strong arms. "What have I done, wretch that I nm?” While ho stood lavishing his in. sane otrerses upou tho do id faco of his daughter, the great bell nt St. Quentyn's commenced to toil. As its measured stroke fell slowly and mournfully on his ear, it seem ed to him that it was this accusing voice of his murdered daughter. With n mad cry, he smoto his breast with his hands. “Let me die,” ho said, in a voice so hoarso and choked that his fol lowers did not rocoguizo it. "I havo killed an angol; let me di«j!" and, with a torriblc bound, ho leaped from tho headland into tho aes. .Through all that night, and for days and nights to oomo, St. Quentyn's bell tolled slowly, sadly solomnly—toiled the funernl knell of tho fair young Christobel. The wreckors, livening to Its awful sound, grew superstitious and Miroid, and gradually abandoned their hamlet, seeking other haunts, and it was only when wrecking, as a busintss, was given up, that tho bell cossed tolling continuous ly. But, regularly, on the ap< proaoh of a great storm, it still sends out its warning voico. For sixty years, I havo beard it as you did this afternoon, and my father, who lived to the very great age of 00 yoars, ssid he had been guarded by its warnings through bis titne, nnd tt was generally believed in by bis peoplo before him. Though eoTored with rust, and with no opperlunity for lawless hands to issob it, providing there wore persons who cared to do it, so, St. Quentyo's still lolls, •• in tbs days when I beard the tale for the first time from tbe lipe of my grand airs. * * * e see A long alienee followed the cons elusion of tho old coast-guard's •tosf. The sea still thundered its mighty voice in my ears, and tbe wind tore madly around tbe dil apidated town, makiog Its time worn walls tremblo in tho blast. It seemed as if I again beheld tbe rusty, weather worn bell twinging •lowly to aod fro in tbe ruined tower et 8t. Quentyn’s sending out its solemn, unearthly protest to the wind*? the waves end tbe storms. “What is tbe next thing to a dude?" was asked in a fashionable parlor last night. One lady an% a wared an ape, another an ou rang- outang, but when a little girl said the nest thing to a dude ts bia undershirt the eubjeot was aoddeo- ly dropped. * Tbo dude in Kentucky: “Do you see that young man gofag along there?** “Yto, what df ft?" “Ila'a got girl oti thti brain." ‘Ah, judging from bia appearance tbo girl must have a soft riL* tr cJ Adam was not a polygomist. aU (bough in bis day, ho married nit the women in tha urorlik How to Foretell Weather*. We produce the following aim* pie rules, because sny one with n •light effort onn memoriae them and will find them interesting niid ‘ perhaps of great profit: The Farmers Club of the Amer ican Institute has issued the fol* lowing rules for foretelling the weather. If farmers and others whose basilicas is out]|door» # and depends upon the weather, will study them closely they will bo, able to guess the weather more accurately than Wiggius or Yen* nor. 1. When the temperature falls suddenly there is a storm forming south of you. 2. When tho temperature rises suddenly there is a storm forming north of you. 3. Tho wind always blows from a region of fair weather toward n region where a storm is forming. 4. Cirrus clouds always movq from a region where a storm ia ia progress to a region of fair weath* 5. Cumulus clouds always move from a region of fair weather to t region where a storm is furmlog. 6. Where cirrus clouds are mov ing rapidly from the north or northoast thero will be rain inside ot twenty-tour hours, no mattor how cold it ia 7. When cirrus clouds are mov ing rapidly from the south or southeast thel'e will be * cold rain storm on iho morrow, if it ba in summer, snd If it bo in winter there will be a snow storm. 8. The wind always blows In a circlo around a storm, and when it blows from tbe north the heavleet rain is east of you; if It blows from the south the beaviost rain is wett ot you; if it blows from tbe east the heaviest rain is south; If it blows from tbo west the heaviest ruin is north of yon. 9. Tho wind never blows unless rain or inow ia fulling within one thoesand miles of you. 10. Whenover heavy whits frost occurs a storm is forming within thousand miios north or north west of you, A young politician explained the tattered condition of hia trow sera to hie father by stating that be was sitting under an apple tree enjoying himself, when the farttf- or's dog cs me afong and contested his seat. A man looking over bia weak, which the laundress had jo.t brought home, nmurktd that h. could very #ell uoderMud bov hie aether germ.au might;drrfak ap, but what puzzled him poet was how the rufflet grew oo .well Ao Altb.m* mao b.i applied to the n-.n.ger. of the Kentucky State Fair (or ptrmiutoo te eZhib- it hie little girl, three end • hilt yc»r« old. She bu three teperat. end dUtioot tongue., th. two un til er being bene.th theme), on. wd •tucked to It near th. root. A roiled Mrew may b* Willy removed U heel 1. applied to it. bead* Which may b. readily dan. with * rad hot kitchen poker. A .cl.Btlto anthoritYti.Mltk.1 lucoeealre cropping o( th. aoil with on. grtiaUrwd. each low* encmlw w the w.vU wd' Cutimi *r> , .• • t la th. forct bed. new tb. dtitt of tb. Uiniuippi*r* fou.doyprw. trank, twenty-five feet in dUnw. ter end on. oonttinlng 6,700 go- owl ring.. . A Mexican lady of rank bu ktir two end . btif yard* Iwg. 8b. wemr. it In two braid., bw i jpggo to wiry tbi i.di if til ,»<■ • train. ■ I • •: -*ii» When traveling oo krailroad H hwldlbat lyfag with tbo kwd toward the wgio.will oftn : oat. Opnprwwd p»p«f now road*, and trai " parlor to Iron ar t th.pragrwae' *" Than’, o pr.lt, girDo^ lot who bWWSw dwthlj •b< MU io. era.*, end Ike .mm ber ot rammer beaux thto girl hfti l»wotwbtog.wftitowotwtplti». A Dtwdeo iriirt bw M* a \ w.tob entirely of peper, which keep# good thw' '

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The Cuthbert appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 1866-1884, July 27, 1883, Image 1