The Eastman times. (Eastman, Dodge County, Ga.) 1873-1888, March 26, 1873, Image 1

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VOIJ ME I I THE EASTMAN TIMES, IS PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT Eastman, Dodge Cc., Ga,, it. s. hit it r r < > tv. Terms— Out* y. nr, $2 nO ; Six months, SI.OO. All subscriptions required in advuuce, invurial ly. AtfveiUsing katos. Sqrs 1 M. 3 M. 6 M. 12 M. 1.. .|s4ools7 00 jslo 00 sls 00 2 .... , G *25 | 12 00 | 18 00 ! 25 00 4. . . 075 : 10 00 j 28 00 ) 39 00 4 11 50 22 50 I 34 00 j 40 00 k 20 00 32 50 I 55 00 j 80 00 1 col. 35 00 GO 00 I 80 00 j 130 00 All hills lor advertising are due on t tie first appearance of advertisement, or when pre sented, except when otherwise contracted n r. Parties handing in advi rtiseinents will please state the required time lor publication, other wise they will be inserted till forbid and charged for accordingly. Transient advertisements unaccompanied by the money will receive no attention. Advertisements or Communications, to se cure an insertion the same week, should be handed in on Wednesday morning. All letters should be adddressed to R. S. IJITRTON, Publisher. Professional and Business. 11. W. J. HAM. I I THOMAS Jl. DAWSON . HAM &. DAWSON, ATTOIi XE V S A T LA\V , (Office in Times building.) EASTMAN, GEO., Will practice in the counties of Dodge, Tel fair, Appling, Montgomery, Emamul, Laurens and Pulaski, and elsewhere by special con tract. Feb 14 tf. L, i.\. JBIA.IL.Ij, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, EASTMAN, GA. Will practice in the Circuit and District Courts ol the United States, lor the Southern District of Georgia, the Superior Courts of the Oconee Circuit, and all counties adjacent to the M. AB. 15. R. Half fee in advance ; con sultation fee reasonable. 70" Oflice in the Court House. ID. <>. c. s i< ATTORNEY AT LAW, llawkinsville, (i EO. Oconee Circuit—Court Culendar 1873. Wilcox 4th Mondays, March and September. Dooly 3d Mondays, March and September. Irwin Fridays after above. Montgomery—Thurs alter Ist Mondays, April. Laurens 2d Mondays, April and Oct paid Oct. Pulaski 3d Mondays, April and October. Dodge 4th Mondays, Apr‘l and October" Tel a r—Thursdays after above, jan 31st. ly. J. LLGLKE HICKS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Mount Vernon, Montgomery Cos., Ga. I)R. J. H. LA SHEET, Physicaii ami Surgeon, Offers his profession;d services to the p. opl >jf Eastman and surrounding country. 70" Office near Gen. Foster's house. My. WHOLESALE DEALERS IN Groceries and Provisions, No. 82, Comer Third & Poplar Sts., MACON, - - GEORGIA. We have just received and in store o. Mesh supply of Bacon, Bulk Meats, Corn, Oats, Hay, Flour, M lassos, Sugar, Coffee, Lard, etc., etc. All of which we offer for sale on as fair terms as can be had lrom any wholesale house in Middle Georgia. T.-O" Give us a trial—We guarantee satis faction ! J. HOLMES A CO. 2 ly. Notice. All persons indebted to the limit rsigned lor goods bought ot him in the year 1872, are re quested to come forward and make immediate payment to the undersigned, or their accounts will be placed in the hands of an attorney lor collection. W, W.ASEBURN. march 12, ’73 4t. . G. GRAHAM, DEALER IN Family Groceries, & Fancy Liquors, KEEPS ON HAND AN ASSORTED SUPPLY OF Flour, Bacon, Lard, Sugar, Coffee, Rice, C’aned Fruits, Candies, Candles, Oranges, Ap ples, Cheese, Crackers, Fancy Wines, Brandy, Mhisky, Gin, Rum, and in fact any and every thing usually kept in a retail grocery and liquoi “tore, all of which lie will sell for cash, and cash only, at a very small advance on original cost. He invites you to call, feb 7-1 v. Selected Poetry. Another Old Story. 15Y MINNIE MAY. “Cru 1 only to be kind.” I)o you r.man’o.r the evening At tiie elo.se ol the Hilton b 11. When we two stood , l >ue together At the door Oi the great widen 11? You whispered, “l’im ; shall have ended Er * file sua ol our 1 ive shell set, But the year.; in iy be l rug ot wooing, So I beg of you, do not forget.” Then you pi iced a ring on my finger - How it 11 isiit and and shone in the light! Then as 1 looked, Floy iiilion Swtpt past us with a luce so white. Could she have heard? I woadkr, 1 knew that she 1 ax cl you \v, 11 - How the j. a lons pain must li ivo maddened The petted society’s bv lie. Ikr <;lmce li 11 the hate of a serpent, An;l h r wr dh was intended lor two. But why Lug, r o\\ r the st< ry ? Ere the year past, you proved uni rue. And now in the Jiikon mansion. You sit l.ke a lord so gr aid. And I, in my humcl • cottage, Am the happiest wife in the 1 md. MY HEROINE^ BY r. W. MORRIS. Sin* made a very pretty picture as she stood there in the orchard, beneath lhr shade of an apple tree, Margaret Graeme! She was as iresli and fa.r and sweet as the Dowers that grew m the meadow on the other side of the road, across from where she was stand ing. The twenty years of her life had been to her only those of innocence and joy and peace, so that she was a merry, happy girl. Margaret was the daughter of Squire Graeme, whose rambliu • but comfort able farm-house was half concealed by tree s, a quarter of a mde down the road. lie was a farmer, a plain and honest man, who had never any desire to be anything else than what he was. Margaret was standing' there ir. the orchard bareheaded, having thrown her bonnet down at her feet. Indeed she was pretty. Her hair was golden ; her forehead white; her eyes were brown and sparkling; her die ks had a delicate color in them, that seemed < ver ready to depart, yet ever re mained; her lips were like crimson berries, and her teeth gleamed through ihen; when she smiled like pearls.— ’l on perceive that there are not many iae.'S as sweet as hers. The scene upon which the girl looked was a calm and peaceful one. She mid stood there a thousand times and viewed it, yet it always seemed beau tiful. The orchard was on a hillside ’hat sloped gently back from the road. It was a meadow, too, as vv 11 s i* <’hard, and h:vng just been freshly nowm, the p. flume of a thousand cm died iiowers w< > fried i > Marg'a ivi’s senses by the summer breeze.— •!nst in front ef her. the hard road stretched away, ai.d a Lai. m’le d.s ■>n 1 a liv r w amd along, sh'mng 1 ko s lver beiK'atli llie rays of the sun.— Many an orchard an 1 mead >w and Held could be seen, with here and there h • residences of ti e owners of the lands. Across the river stood a quiet lit lie town, and back of that gr a h 11s were on: lined against the I lac skies. M ;i’gar- t was standi g adm ring and! ties, when she heard e lining along the road from the direction opposite to lit r fatlu r’s house tin* clatter of a horse’s hoofs. In a short time the horse vv.th its rider came into v i w.— that rider Margaret knew distantly was a young man. He h and almost passed her b fore he b held her; I u noticing her then 4 , h reined in h s horse and addressed her. ‘Does a gentleman by die name of Graeme reside near here V he asked. ‘Yes, sir.’ Margaret replied ; ‘the next house L iiis.’ ‘Thank you,’ ti e gentleman said. He scrutinized her face a little close ly for an instant and then rode away. Margaret’s thoughts returned to tin* scene spread out before her. For some time longer she remained where she was. and then wended her way homeward by a path that led through the orchard. Beaching the house, she ascended the steps that led up to the long, vine-covered porch in front of it. She paused there a moment before en tering. ‘Well, Margaret!’ said a voice. She turned and beheld her father. EASTM AN, DODHE COUNTY, C AWEDNESDAY, MARCH 1873. lit- bad spoken to I an*. But he waft tot alone, lor by his side was seated tin* young gentleman wh > had passed and mg the r >ad b\ her as s!ie sto >d in the orchard. ‘Mr. M lymird,’ her father said, rising ?< h s feet, ‘this is my daughter Mar garet.’ M a-garcc how; and, md Mr. M tynard rose, murmuring her iiaiuc, and that he was very glad to make her uc piaintance. ’Mr. M lyn.trd has come to the neigli borh od on business, amd will remain with us lor several days,’ Mr. Graeme u tored J>y way of an i-xplamition. l'him Mirg'irc left tit in, anv they res in i led their conversation in reference to business matters. At snppt M irgaret met Mr. M iv ii iid again. The meal passed off pleasantly, and the acquaintanceship o. ;he two progressed Frank Miy Hard was a gentleman in manners and education, and knew vcr\ well how to m ike linnself agreeable. Alter lie ret.red to rest that night a iair lace, tiiat of Margaret Graeme, floated across Ins dreams. He told li.mself, too, that she was as sweet and pretty a creature as lie had ever beheld. A few days passed. Frank May nard attended to his business, but at the same time contrived to see Mar-a- O ret frequently. Once or twice he walked with-her through the orchard, and oftener sat in the parlor, while she played tor him, sometimes accompany ing her playing with Ins voice. Mar garet w.,s toe daughter of a farmer; but, it may as well be stated, had re ceived an education out of wliicu ac complishments were not by any means left. The time came when Mr. Maynard’s business was all attended to. But he still lingered. What.kept him ? Per haps you can guess. Yes, Maigaret was the cause of his remaining. The girl’s beauty and sweetness had touched Ins heart in a manner that he could not avoid feel ing. It was for the sake of being near her, he acknowledged to himself, that iie was stay.ng. But these doubly pleasant summer days could not last forever. The end ol a month of his stay at Mr. Graeme’s came, and he saw that he could not remain much longer. Then there was a struggle in Frank Maynard’s heart. Tliat struggle was ; necause he wanted Margaret Graeme n>r Ins own, and because some obsta cles lay in the way of his having her as such, il is to be understood that the question ol . cr loving or not loving iuui, was not the one that lie w.ts con s.dermg ju. t tin'll. He w.s tile mein bt i of a | > 1 oud and wealthy lannly, and ne km w that his haughty relatives wortid tijjjn.se h s weud ng tin dangii or~l a s.mjile larmer. Gould he brave ...e.r auger mr the s..ke ol Margaret’.', love ? He announced that he was going ‘*"’ay lie fixi and the tune at wlneh he Wi.n'd go. And tin* battle still went on in Ins Heart. On the i ven ng before the day on whieh he was to it ave, he and Mar"’;.- ret look a ramble through the orchard. From place to phun- they went, till at iengdi they stood at the spot from which Margaret had first beheld him. 1 hey had been conversing lightly, but n-’W they stood lor a few moments in sd; nee i; was an alternoon as gio r.oiis as t sat lirst one had been. fin* ser ne was just as brightly beautiful as it had been on that day when Frank Maynard rode alone: the road. ‘Do you remember that lirst day you saw iiu ?' lie asked, pr< st ntlv. ‘Yes, 1 remember,’ the girl returned. 1 lien there was silence again.— There was something in the youn at man’s heart that was struggling up for utterance. * Vre you sorry that I am goingaway to-morrow ?’ lie said. ‘1 am always sorry to part with my friends, Mr. Maynard, Margaret re plied Margaret was calm enough. Per haps her heart was beating more rap idly than usual. At any rate she be trayed nothing of agitation. T suppose that I am only a summer friend, and that I will be forgotten V when'the summer is past,’ Maynard said more coldlv than was necessary. ‘Why, Mr. Maynard!’ Margaret cried; ‘what causes you to speak so?’ That which he had been holdim*- b back rose up for victory. ‘Your coldness maddens me!’ he ex claimed. ‘You are, seemingly, not sorry to part with me, while I am in despair at the idea of our separation M ii’garet, I love you. I cannot leave y 'it until I* have my fate decided.’ It was now till 1 girl’s turn to he agi tated. She did love Frank Mai nard, and i/m ugh she had never betrayed it by aii.v sign, stil] a great fear had been be-s-**t'oe hair that in* might not love i ' her. Of course such a girl ns Marga ret w uld n t betray any love until it was eminently proper to do so. Hi. * going away had weighed heavily upon her heart, but she had .scorned to take Iso coi l lv that it was enough to cause hire to think her indifferent. ‘Oil, Margaret,’ lie continued, ‘can you bid me hope.’ He was standing by her side. She turned her face towards him. ‘Yes you can hope, more than hope,’ she murmured, tears moistening her eyes, a quiver in her voice. ‘ And you love me!’ Margaret said. ‘Yes, 1 love you.’ And so it came about that when they two returned to the house, they were betrothed. Frank Maynard left Margaret the next day, telling her that ere long be should return and claim her for his wife. Margaret’s heart was very light, for was not the world very bright for her! She loved! She was loved! Oh, sweet, sweet words, which thong]} so simple, told such a wondrous story ! ****** The girl was seated on the sofa.— Maynard ban been oactng Racy and forth before her. They had been apart for three months, and just a t< w min utes bad met At first M.uafiiret, in her joy, had noticed nothing peculiar in her lover, but now it seemed that there was something strange in his manner. His face was white, and he kept throwing his hands about nerv ously. ‘Frank, are you unwell?’ th° girl asked, when h<* had paced back and forth before her a dozen times. ‘No,’ he answered. Then he stopped before her. ‘Margaret, vou know 1 love you?’ he said, interrogatively. ‘Yes. I know it,’ Margaret answered, | with a smile But a vague uneasiness sank down upon lx r heart. ‘Am! you trust me ?’ ‘lndeed 1 do.’ ‘Margaret, my love, I shall speak plainly,’ Maynard continued, hurriedly. ‘I have told my relatives of my love for you, and— ’ M lynard stopped. ‘Go on,’ Margaret said. 4 They violently oppose my wedding 1 y m. 0!i, Margaret, what shall we and >?’ ‘Have you told me ah? Margaret asked. ‘I have stated the fact, only. My father even goes so far as to say that he will cast me off-—disinherit me, il 1 do not comply with his wishes and g vc you up.’ M< s . ui-v's lips had set firmly. S e now rase to lx r feet. ‘I am sure,’ she said, ‘that I do not desire to become an unwelcome mem ber of any family.’ Her eyes met Frank Maynard’s, there had been some tire in Hiem, but the next instant she broke down, and the. tire was quenched with tears. ‘Oil, Frank, I love you,’ she cried. He caught her in his arms and kissed away her tears. ‘Margar t, my love, my love, I can not give you up,’ he murmured softly ‘My darling, will you flee with me ?’ os'd she flee with him? she loved him. How could she refuse what lie asked when she loved him ‘Dear Frank,’ she uttered, ‘if von want ine to be your wife in spite of your relatives I have not the power to refusQ. If you will risk their an ger l(T my sake, 1 will be your wife. But wo need not flee, lor we # can be ; married here. • Ilie man,s face flushed. ‘Darling, you misunderstand me,’ he caid, in the same low tones tiiat he had been us mg ’I dare not risk their anger. But i you will go with me to the city I wil’ love you just as well as if you wer< my wife. Will vmi go ? Not before bad the girl seen tie deadly poison that was concealed be neath his honied words. But she was comprehending now. She struggled reefrom his embrace, and stood up before him. ‘I hen I will not be your wife*,’ sh uttered with a calmness tiiat astoi - ished herself. ‘No’ M ynard faltered. Margaret Graeme’s fact' crimsoned. 1 hen every particle cf color departee from it, till it was white as death. I there were any tears in her eyes, thev were drank up by the fire there. M ly nard shrank away from before her, for she was the very p’eture of righteous indignation. She lifted her hand to ward the door. ‘Go, go J’slie cried, ‘quick before 1 shall call someone to throw you from the house. Go, and never let me loo 1 upon you again ! ‘But Margaret/ lie commenced pleadingly. ‘Not a word,’ Margaret continued T wdl not listen to a word from y m. I should hate myself if I did. Go, 1 say for the last time. And lie went. Then Margaret sank hack upon the sofa, and sat there for a long time wdh her hands folded upon her lap. A stony calmness was hers. But that could not last always. Directly a sob shook her. Then an •flier, till at last she bowed her head and a rain of tears flowed from lie 1 eyes. Door Margaret! The sweetest brightest hopes of her life had fad- 1 Ihe keenest agony that ceuld over b hers v?as upon her. Poor M irgaret ! her pain was as great as her love had boon pftre, tier faith as strong M.v dear reader, a word abou! Fraid Maynard. Not in bis defence is it, flu he is not worthy of it. But 1 don’ wish you o> think that he was a wild, oissipated wretch. He was not. IF was known among his friends as a g< - ninl, companionable, pleasant sort o' a felhov I know not how much of a struggle there had been in his heart before his evil genius got possesion n ; him, and compelled him to harbor that terribly wicked plan of his. W ell, that awakening did not kif Margaret. For awhile her cheek was pale and her step slow. But as tli weeks ana months passed, the pain ;r her heart lost its keeness. At last tli bloom came back to her cheeks and her step was as clastic and light as ever A year fled away One afternoon -die was in the orchard, when alone the road, just as he had come the first time, came Frank Maynard. He saw her, and dismounting from his horse he entered through a gate and came t< her side. To her surprise she felt m rising anger. hMiss Graeme—Margaret/ lie said ‘I have come to ask your forgiveness. W .11 you grant it V i here was a world of eagerness ii his face, am 1 manner, and tone. ‘Yes, I grant it,’ she said quietly.— ‘\\ l 1 you come to the house ?’ ‘1 hank you, n >t just now • not im h'ss—Tie stopped. She said nothing hut waited for him to proceed. ‘0 Margaret” he cried, T love you stdi, madly, and I want you to he mv wife, You liave forgiven the past. Tell me— ’ ‘Your father might disinherit you, she interrupted, with a touch of scorn in tier tone. ‘My lather is dead, and 1 am now a wealthy man in my own right. 0 Margaret, I ask you to love me one< more. For the sake of your love, 1 will humiliate myself to the dust Can you love me again? ‘Mr Maynard,’ the g'li said, withou a tremor in her voice, ‘you know I loved you once. But my love died on a day that you certainly have not for go'ten. It wi’ n verc me to i “again. I forgive you fully, hut I can never speak any warmer words to you.’ ‘ls there no hope ?’ ‘None.’ He saw tncra was not. Turning he [NUMBER 10. walked slowly oik of the orchard, with the western sun’s glories shining over him. lie mounted his horse and waved an adieu to her with his hand. Then there was the clatter of his horse’s hoofs, and an instant he had van ished from her sight. lam almost done. Margaret’s love was strong, but her life now goes on candy and happily without Frank Maynard. My 1 leroine ! Would that there were more like her—more as strong as she! If there were, how much of sin and shame and sorrow would never be written that othcrw ise goes down oil the great record of human lives ! The Chi id’s Etiquette in Ten Comma tidments. 1. Always say yes, sir; no, sir ; yes, papa ; no. papa ; thank you ; no, thank you ; good night ; good morning. Never say how, which or what ; use no slang terms. Remember that good spelling, readiug, writing and grammar, are the best of all true education. w. Clean faces, clean clothes, clean shoes, and clean finger-nails indicate gooeflj reeding. 3. Rap before you enter a room, and never leave it with your back to the company. Never enter a private room or public place with your cap on. 4. 11 ways offer your seat to a lady or old gentleman. Let your companions enter the carriage or room first. 5. At table, eat with your fork ; sit up straight; never use your toothpick Europeans do . ; and, when leaving ask to be excused. G. Never put your feet on cushions, chairs, or tables. 7. Never overlook any one when reading or writing, nor talk or read aloud when others are reading. \Y hen conversing, listen attentively, and do not interrupt or reply till the other has finished. 8. Never talk or whisper aloud at public pi ices, and especially in a private room where some on a is singing or playing the piano. 9. Loud coughing, hawking, yawning, sneez iiig, and blowing, are ill-mannered. In every case, cover your mouth with your handkerchief which never examine —nothing is more vul gar except spitting on the floor. 10. Treat all with respect—-especially tlio poor. Be careiul to injure no one’s feelings by iukiiul remarks. Never to]l tales, make faces, '■•dl names, ridicule the lame, mimic the uu ortunate, or be cruel to insects, birds or ani mals. llmnoious. \\ hen Judge Howell, of Rhode island was at the bar, Mr. Burgess, to qlay a joke, wrote on the lining of his nat vacuum cabut (empty head.) The Circulated about exciting a smile on very countenance, except that of the ovner, who deliberately took it up, oid repeated the words, and, well knowing the author, addressed the court as follows : May it please the court, I ask your Honor’s protection, (holding up his hat), Tor’ said he, ‘I mid that Biother Burgess has written ais name in my hat, and I have reason to believe he intends to make off with it.’ ‘Look here, stranger, that’s my wife you’re dancing with.’ Well, what of t said Racensack. ‘W hv, this you lance with her again and I’ll blow the ,0 P of your head >fif 1 ‘Now, look icre,’ said Racensack cooly, ‘do you : ee that umbrella setting there?’ ‘ A ell. s’pose Ido ?’ ‘Well, you han ilc that umbrella—you touch that imbrclla ; you even look at that lira reel Ih , and I will ram it down your throat, and I'll—l’ll spread it.’ Jenkins an old whiskey bloat, had a m)\\ the other day. The nurse put bis irst born in bis arms, and Jenkins, re* warding it lovingly while a tear rickled dovv i his grog be-blossonied iose, said :—“Twenty years hence he v’dl keep me in whisky.’ A Norwegian lady has arrived in i Iwaukee witii some twenty of her i ldren. She says there are so many accidents she didn’t think it safe to •ring them all on one boat, as in the tsc ot a wreck she wouldn’t have teirt to commence life in anew uiOry. She expects the rest of them iiortly. A party of F n’t Wayne young gen lo.men dined sumptuously at a restau " pit, and each one insisted on paying ae lull, fo decide the matter it was imposed to blindfold the waiter, and it* first one he c inght sli mid pay the nil. He hasn’t caught any of them ><*t V\ hen a Connecticut deacon nudged i somnolent worshipperavith too sub a-ription box, the sleep}’ individual iwoko partially, smiled, murmured, I don’t smoke/ and dropped off again.