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VOLUME 11 Till; EASTMAN TIMES. I IS PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT Eastman, Dodge Cos., Ga., B y II . S. li lilt T ON . Terms—One year, $2 (K); Six months, SI.OO. All subscriptions required in advance, invariably. Advertising Kates. s jrs IM. | 3 3d. j 6 UM. 1 7. $4 00 SV 00 ft 10 (Hi tls 00 2 i 025 ! 12 00 18 00 25 00 ■{ V 75 i 10 00 28 00 30 00 \ .... 11 50 22 50 34 00 40 00 i 20 (M) 32 59 55 00 1 80 00 1 col. 35 00 60 00 80 00 | 130 00 Advertisements inserted at 81 per square for first insertion, and 75 cents for each subsequent insertion. A square is the space of ten solid lines bre vier type. Advertisements contracted for a specified time, and discontinued before the expiration of time contracted for, will be charged for the time run at our schedule rates. Marriage and obituary notiees, tributes ol r sport, and other kindred notices, occupying over ten hues, will he charged for iis other ad vert isements. Advertisements must take the run of the pa per when not contracted otherwise. All hills for advertising are due on the first appearance of advertisement, or when pre sented, except when otherwise contracted for. Parties handing in advertisements will please state the required time for publication, other wise they will be inserted till forbid and charged li >v 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 Monday morning. All letters should be adddressed to li S. BURTON, Publisher. BATES AND RULES FOR LEGAL ADVERTISING. Sheriffs sales, per levy, $3 50 ; sheriffs mort gage sales, per levy, 85 : tax sales, per levy, 83; citation for letters of administration, $4; eitn ti ui for letters of guardianship; application for dismission from administration, 810; ap plication for dismission from guardianship, $5; application for leave to soli land (one square) §5, and each additional square, $3 ; application lor homestead, 82 ; notice to debtors and cred itors, $1 ; land sales (Ist squared, and each ad ditional square, 83 ; sale of perishable prop erty. per square, Sli 50 ; estray notiees, sixty days, 87 ; notice to perfect service, $7 ; rules nisi to foreclose mortgage, per square, 81; rules to establish lost papers, per square, 84; rules compelling titles, per square, 84 ; rules to per fect service in divorce eases, $lO. Sales of land, etc., by administrators, exec utors or guardians, are required by law to be I held on the first Tu sday in the month, between the hours ol 10 in the forenoon and 4 in the afternoon, at the court house door in the county m which the property is situated. Notice of these sales must be given in a public gazette 40 days previous to the day of side. Notices tor the side of personal property must be given in like manner 10 days previous to day of side. Notices to the debtors and creditors of an estate must be published 40 days. Notice that application will be made to the t’ourtof Ordinary for leave to sell land, Ac., must be published for two months. Citations for letters of administration, guar dianship, Ac., must be published 30 days - for dismission from administration, monthly for three months -for dismission from guardian ship, 40 days. Rules for foreclosure of mortgages must be published monthly for four mouths —for estab lishing lost papers for the full space of three months -for compelling titles from executors ° r administrators, where bond has been given by the deceased, the full space of throe months. Publication will always be continued accord ing to these, the legal requirements, unless oth erwise ordered. Profef Blonal and Business. H. \Y. J. HAM. | | THOMAS 11. DAWSON HAM & DAWSON, ATTOII NE Y S A T L-A XV , (Office in Times building.) EASTMAN, GEO., W ill practice in the comities of Dodge, Tel lair, Appling, Montgomery, Emanuel, Laurens and Pulaski, and elsewhere b} r special con tract. Feb. 14 tf I R. J. 11. l’liy sican anil Surgeon, Offers his professional services to the people of Eastman and surrounding country. J®®** Office near Gen. Foster’s house. 1-ly. L, A. HALL, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, EASTMAN, GA. Will practice in the Circuit and District Courts Ot the United States, for the Southern District of Georgia, the Superior Courts of the Oconee Circuit, and all counties adjacent to theM.AB. R. R. Half fee in advance; con sultation fee reasonable. -£#*• Office in the Court House. 1-ly. J. EUGENE HICKS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, -Mount, Vernon, Montgomery Cos., Ga PULASKI HOUSE. Georgia. Fronting South, a Frontage of 273 Feet WM. 11. WILDBERGKP, vollllo Ftf Proprietor. Wtyt Eastman fptiwgl EASTMAX, DODGE COUNTY, 0.A.., WEDNESDAY, MCW' 38, I8?U. Selected Poetry. Kindness. “Be kindly affect ioned one to another .” Be kind to each other, O, husband! 0, wife ! Frail, frail are the tendrils That bind thee to life. Soon one must be taken, And one must remain, To bear all the sorrow, The parting, the pain. Death's angel stands ready At every gate, And one must go out, And the other must wait. Be kind to each other; This life is so brief, Let no s<df-reproaches Be blent with thy giief. O, think of the dear face, All covered and cold; The poor hands that never Thine own will enfold; The dead lips that never (fan answer thee more; Be kind to each other, For life is soon o’er. Be kind to each other, (), brother ! O. friend! To one or the other, Life soonest must end. Each form must be shrouded. Each face covered up; You know not whose lips Must first touch the cup: Death’s angel stands ready At every gate, And one must go out, And the other must wait. HARLEY’S CHANGES. A STORY OF THE WEST. BY CAPT. CIIABLES HOWARD. Prior to the great financial crisis of 1837, Joshua Martin was deemed the most prosperous merchant in the then frontier city of St. Joseph, Wiscon sin. He was noted for his sterling in tegrity and stainless character; and if he reveled in wealth, he did not parade it before the eyes of the people. He came to St. Joseph in 1831, and at once began to amass a fortune. Those who pretended to know, said that the merchant operated in eastern stocks, and that the bulk of his wealth was staked among the bulls and bears of New York. Tue memorable crash of that decade which embraces the dates above writ ten, ruined Joshua Martin, lb; had staked everything in eastern securi ties, and he found himself a compara tive beggar Poor blind man! 11c could save nothing from the wreck, and he sat among the ruins of his for tunes, like Marius among those of Carthage. Forced to relinquish the imposing residence which, in his ea gerness to delve deeper into stocks, he had mortgaged away, he was obliged to remove his family, consisting of a wife and one daughter, to an humble dwelling: and from the date of that removal, the Martins were no more mentioned in the fashionable society of “St. Jo.” The troubles of the bankrupt’s family did not end here. The blow killed the merchant. Though a strong man, he could not bear up under his loss. If a few thousand had been taken from him at intervals, he might have recovered and regained his lost position; the destruction of tens of thousands at one sweep of the waves, overwhelmed him. He sank rapidly, and died, leaving his family to bullet the waves of the world, and to do the best they could among those who once knelt at their feet; but now who did not deign to recognize them on the streets When a rcih man suddenly becomes poor, the grave is the best place for him. It is a house of refuge, where lie is safe from the scorn of those whose equal and superior in social position he once was. Mother and daughter took quite readily to their new life. They sold much of their gorgeous furniture which had ornamented their late home; but kept the piano, and a few other pieces which Maumee loved. Maumee Martin had grown to be witching womanhood during her lift* in St. Joseph, and her accomplish ments rivaled her beauty. After the death of her father—after her trans foimation into the child of a despised bankrupt—she did not shrink from the duties that fell to her lot. She must live; she must earn her daily bread; and a week after the change of life, we find Maumee Martin ply'ng the seamstress’ needle or Hvii.-’ lessons in music lo a few children whose parents sent them to her be- cause she taught cheaper than regu lar perceptors. By and by, the house which they occupied was sold over their heads; but the new owner—a great middle aged but somewhat handsome man— assured them that they should not be turned out. The new owner was a stranger in St. Joseph; but immedi ately after purchasing the property above mentioned he opened a commis sion store, and at once drew a thriv ing partronage about him. And re as Ilarley, for such was his name, came often to the home of the Martins, and reports went abroad that he intended to wed the bankrupt’s widow. ‘My chances are decidedly good,’ said the merchant one evening, as he bent over the counting-room desk. ‘The girl appears coy, but she will come about in time. People think that I am after the widow; but 1 nev er entertained a thought in that direc tion. The beauty of the daughter would draw the widow’s most devoted adorer to her side. That girl’s a beauty. She must become Mrs. Harley: she shall! Yes,’ after a long pause, and as he slowly turned from the desk, ‘llarley your chances are good decidedly good. Yon own their home, and in the depth of winter you can turn them out, it Maumee be comes stubborn and says ‘No!, He was the sole occupant of the counting room: but as he crossed the threshold and turned to lock the door, lie heard a footstep and a voice down the dark aisle. ‘Hold on a moment, Mr. Harley. Reopen the counting room, please. T wish a few words with you.’ r ihe merchant recognized the voice of one of his clerks. He did not reply, but stepped into the cosy counting room closely follow by Phillip Lee. AY el!?’ he enquired, turning sud denly upon the handsome young clerk. Speak quickly, Lee; 1 must be going.’ ‘All I desire to say is, that some of he funds of the li mho have mysteri - ously disappeared. ‘\\ hat?’ cried the merchant. ‘Say that again, bov.’ The young man repeated his words and added— ‘One afternoon while you were ab sent East, I placed nine hundred and fifty dollars in the safe, and the fol lowing morning forty-five were miss ing.’ Aon have committed an error in counting possibly.’ ‘ll I cannot count money correctly when it is before my eyes, I deserve to be thrown out of employment,’ said the youth, in a insulted air. several times during your absence, have I noticed the speculations of some un known person.’ ‘Who had access to the safe?’ ‘I held the keys sir,’ answered Phil lip quickly. 1 have not missed them for a single moment. But the safe has been opened by keys.’ Audi eas Ilarley dropped his head n deep though , while the clerk step ped to his desk, and summed up vari ous columns on the back of an envel ope which he drew from an inner pocket ‘iliroG hundred dollars have been pui Joined within the last four weeks,’ turning from the desk. ‘lt staggers me,’ returned Harley. But we will watch the thief, and if we catch him, he shall have his reward. the merchant began buttoning bis great coat, and the clerk walked from the room. Andreas Harley heard him close and lock the outside door of the store and then stepped toward the desk, his dark eyes fixed upon an ob wliich lay thereon. It was the envelope upon which I hillip Lee had been figuring. 111 look at his figures,’ he murmur ed, but the next moment he turned the envelope and looked at the super scription. It was merely ‘ Phillip Lee Present ; ‘but the chirography startled the merchant. Those deli cately formed letters he had encoun teied before. And after closing the counting room door, he half fearfully diev the letter from its hiding place For a moment his eyes remained j fixed upon the briel communications, 1 when he started from the desk while something like an oath fell from- his lips. ‘So Miss Maumee Martin,’ he cried, hurling the letter to the floor, and gazing angrily at it, ‘you possess a lover besides Andreas Harley. Girl!— woman—l will not submit to this. If you prefer the employee to the em ployer, you must hunt another home. But, by heavens you shall not wed him, as he stands before, the world now. He has held the keys to the safe. He has robbed it! The crime shall be fastened upon him. Harley’s chances do nottloolc so bright now: but I fancy that a little sternness will bring the girl to terms. She’s a beg gar now almost. Does she want to marry another? Then he picked the letter up and read it again, and placed it on the desk where the youth had left it. The contents of the missive did not amount to much. It was merely a reply to one which, during business hours, Phillip Lee had sent her; but appellation of ‘Dear Phillip, had open ed a mine of information to Andreas Ilarley. He had never encountered his clerk at the home of the Martins. They had spoken of him but once or twice, and then casually; and he had suspected nothing until the letter was thrown in his way. Several days of quiet proceeded the bursting of the storm. Clerk and employer encountered each other often, but no unusual words passed between them. It was evident that Andreas Harley was displeased at something, but he took care to con ceal his displeasure as much as possi ble. The night following the one that witnessed Ihe scene in the counting room described above, witnessed the robbery of the safe. This time thirty dollars were ab stracted, and "Andreas Harley called one of the clerks, Theodore Mason, to his desk and acquainted him with the facts. Mason, upon being asked if he sus pected anybody, said: ‘Lee.’ The merchant started at the an nouncement, but a flush of triumph stole to his temple. ‘I saw Lee standing by the store last night at eleven, while I was go ing home from the club,’ continued Mason, evincing an eagerness to un burden himself of something that preyed upon his mind. ‘lie did not speak as I passed him, but perhaps he did not see me, as it was raining and he carried his umbrella low—a little lower than was necessary, I fancy.’ ‘I am on the right trail,’ said Andre as Harley, exultingly. ‘And yet,’ feigning a sorrowful tone, ‘I do not want to think the purloiuer is Philip Lee.’ ‘Nor do 1/ said Mason; ‘but circum stances condemn him. I could tell you more, Mr. Harley, but I do not like to speak ag’ainst Philip.’ Andreas Harley persuaded Theodore Mason to unburden his mind further concerning Philip Lee, and that night the accused clerk found himself in the clutches of the law. The arrest was so quietly conducted that the public was unaware of the transaction until the morning papers placed it before their eyes. Flushed with triumph, Andreas Har ley, on the morning following Philip Lee s arrest, hastened to the home of the Martins. He often made such calls on his way to the store, and this morn ing he £ound the bankrupt’s family pleased to see him, Maumee was in the parlor preparing tor her class in music, and Andreas Hailey thought she looked lovelier than e\ ei in her plain dress and un netted hair. He did not dofl his overcoat ; he said he had not long to stay ; he had stepped in to impart a piece of infor mation which might interest the ten ants of his house, dhe merchant’s daughter wondered what the news might be, as Andreas Hailey drew a morning journal from his pocket. I am sorry* that I have occasioned this paragraph,’ he said, touching the top ot a column of city’ news : ‘but I could not help it.’ Maumee took tlie paper, and, in a moment, mastered the account of Phil ip’s arrest. •Mr. Harley, cannot you be mistak en V she asked, when she looked from the paper with pallid face. ‘No, Maumee ; the proofs are con vincing against him,’ he answered, and then, while the fair girl’s head lay on her bosom, and her eyes, swimming in tears, fell to the floor, he left his chair and came to her side. ‘Girl,’ he said, ‘is Philip Lee any thing to you V Maumee quickly drew her hand from his grasp, and started to her feet. ‘He is something to me,’ she cried, facing the merchant, through whose scheming she seemed to have seen in stantly. ‘He is much to me—and more, Andreas Harley, lie never robbed your safe !’ The merchant, for some moments, did not know what to say, but at last he found his tongue. ‘Girl, he is guilty, I greatly regret to say ; but you can save him/ ‘llow. Mr. Harley V ‘By becoming my wife ! I can lib erate hint, and on such conditions the doors of the jail shall be open to him.’ Fire flashed in Maumee Martin’s dark eyes. ‘Andreas Harley/ she cried, ‘yonder is the door that leads into the street,’ and with quivering fingers she pointed to the portal ‘This house is mine,’ he said. ‘1 care not.’ ‘I can turn you out into the snow.’ ‘There is tlie door ! I wish to live under such bountv as vours no longer ’ * * O ‘I will not go until you promise to | become my wife,’ said the merchant j sternly. At that moment the widow entered the room, and Maumee sprang into the chamber, which her mother had just vacated. An instant later she reappeared, bearing a musket of quaint and clum sy workmanship. ‘Go, Andreas Harley,’she cried, in a determined tone. ‘Mother, please open the door for the plotter.’ Wondering what had transpired to mar the friendship existing between Maumee and the merchant, Mrs. Mar tin opened the parlor door, and An dreas Harley, with clenched hands and vengeful visage, strode from the room. No sooner had he departed, than Maumee dropped the gun, and threw herself into her mother’s arms. ‘Oh, mother! mother !’ she cried, ‘how swiftly one misfortune follows an other- But,’and she lifted her head, ‘Philip shall not be condemned ! He shall not fall the victim of a conspi racy—never !’ Yet that day the Martins were driv en from beneath the roof which had sheltered them since their first great misfortune, and they found a tempo rary abode with Philip Lee’s widowed mother. Maumee soon learned the particu ! Urs of her lovers arrest and preliin | inary examination, and the following day she purchased a pistol with a por tion of her musical earnintrs O • hen night came she made her way to Theodore Mason’s chamber, and startled the clerk by her abrupt ap pearance. The young man’s face as sumed a deathly hue, and Maumee’s mental ejaculation was: ‘Pve found the right man.’ She knew much of Theodore Mason’s habits, and she judged him to be the robber of the Merchant’s safe. At first he denied the charge, but when he saw the piste 1 clutched by the girl’s taiy | white hands he changed his tune. He wrote his confession on paper, and Maumee called a young lavvver into the room to witness the signature. That confession implicated Andreas Haile}’. The clerk had been detected in his crimes by the merchant, who had promised to pardon him if he would aid him to convict Philip, who, in time wedded Maumee Martin. oung Mason was permitted to es cape, and when Harley heard of the confession, he hastily disposed of his store and followed him. The guiltv clerk left behind the skeleton key with which he had opened the sate, and they wtdl bang in the luxurious I home of Philip Lee, now one ui Cliica go’s merchant princes. IM'MUKTt 1!> Selected Poetry. More Cruel than War. A correspondent of the Kansas City Times revises a striking poem, of which this is the history: A Southern prisoner of war at Camp Chase, Ohio, after pining in sickness in the hospital of that station some time, and con tiding to his friend and fellow-capiive. Col. W. A. Hawkins, of Georgia, that he was heavy at heart because his affianced bride in Nashville did not write to him, died just before the arri val oi a letter in which the lady curtly broke off the engagement Col. Hawkins had been requested by his dying comrade to open any epistle which should come for him thereafter, and, upon reading the letter in question, penned the following versified answer. The lines were imperfectly given by the Southern press just alter the war, and deserve revival if only tor the sake of the corrections requisite to do justice to their sentiment and win for them a wider appreciation: MY FRIEND. Your letter, lady, came too late, For Heaven had claimed its own: Ah, sudden change—from prison-bars Unto the great white throne! And yet I think he would have stayed, To live for his disdain, Could he have read the careless words Which you have sent in vain. So full of patience did he wait, Through many a weary hour, That o’er his simple soldier laith Not even death had power; And you—did others whisj>er low Their homage in your ear, As though amongst tlieiv shallow throng; His spirit had a peer? I would that you were by me now, To draw the sheet aside And see how pure the look ho wore The moment when he died. The sorrow that you gave to him Had left its weary trace, As twere the shadow of the Cross Upon his pallid face. “Her love,’* he said r “could change for me The Winter’s cold to Spring Ah, trust of fickle maiden’s love, Thou art a bitter thing! For when these valleys, bright in May,. Once more with blossoms wave, The northern violets shall blow Above his humble grave. Your dole of scanty words had been But one more pang to bear, For him who kissed unto the last Your tress of golden hair; I did not put it where he said, For when the angels come, I would not have them find the sign Of falsehood in the tomb. I’ve read your letter, and I know The wiles that you have wrought To win that noble heart of his, And gained it—cruel thought? Y lavish wealth men sometimes give For what is worthless all ; Wnat manly bosoms beat lor truth In folly’s falsest thra\l! You shall not pity him, for now His sorrow has an end; Yet would that you could stand by me Beside my fallen friend; And I forgive you for his sake, As he —if it be given— May e’en be pleading grace for you Before the court of Heaven. Tonight the cold winds whistle by, As I my vigil keep Y ithin the prison dead-house, where Few mourners come to weep. A rude plank coffin holds his form; Yet death exalts his face, And I would rather see him thus Than clasped in your embrace. To-night your home may shine with lights. And, ring with merry song, And you bo smiling, as your soul Had dope no deadly wrong; Your hand so fair that none would think It penned these words of pain; Your skin so white- would God,’your heart Y ere half as free from stain. Id rather be my comrade dead ; Than you in life supreme; lor yours the sinner’e waking die.d, And his the martyr's dream. Whom serve we in ‘this life, we serve In that which is to come; j He choose his way; you yours; let God Pronounce the fitting doom. A Jealous Husband Cured with iAcoriee Water, There is a man in this city who is so affectionately tond of his wife that he is jealous if a man looks within forty live degrees of the direction in which she may happen to be. The other day a gentleman spoke to her, and he im mediately threatened suicide. His wife was dispatched for a bottle of poison, which she had put up at the druggist’s consisting of a little water, colored with licorice, and bottle, with a glar ing poison label outside. When he threatened to take some of it, and ac tually pouied it into a wine glass, she screamed for help and ran into another room, where she could watch him t uougii the key hole, and saw him coolly open the window and throw it out. She then rushed back, apparently 1 1 antic with grief, and implored him not to do the rash deed. He merely pointed at the glass, and laying down on the floor began to kick out his legs like a jumpiug-jack. She told him she was determined to share his fate, and swallowed the rest of the licorice wa ter, whereupon he became really fright ened, called the neighbors, confessed that he only shammed, and said that if she only survived lie never would trouble her again. Then she explained the ruse, and he was so mortified he tiiea to buy up the silence of the neigh bors, but the story was too good°to koep JIIo is thorouglih cured. — Titus cdie (Pa.) Herald.