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VOLUME 1.1
THE EASTMAN TIMES.
JS PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT
Eastman, Dodge Cos., Ga.,
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erwise ordered.
Professional and Business.
H. W. J. HAM. | | THOMAS H. DAWSON
HAM Sl DAWSON,
ATTORNEYS A T LA W ,
(Office in Court House.)
EASTMAN, GEO.,
"Will practice in the counties of Dodge, Tel
fair, Appling, Montgomery, Emanuel, Laurens
and Pulaski, and elsewhere by special con
tract.
Feb. 14—tf
' I>XI. J. 11. LASHER,
Physical! and Surgeon,
Offers his professional services to4ke people
of Eastman and surrounding country.
Office near Gen. Foster’s house.
i-iy.
L, A HALL,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
EASTMAN, GA.
Will practice in the Circuit and District
Courts of the United States, for the Southern
District of Georgia, the Superior Courts of the
Oconee Circuit, and all counties adjacent to
the M. &B. R, li. Half fee in advance; con
sultation fee reasonable. *
Office in the Court House.
i-iy.
O. C. IIORNE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
Hawkinsville, Geo.
Oconee Circuit — Court Calendar 1873.
and ilcox—4th Mondays, March and September.
Dooly—3d Mondays, March and September.
Irwin—Fridays after above.
Montgomery— Thurs after Ist Mondays, April.
Laurens—2d Mondays, April and Oct (and Oct.
Pulaski—3d Mondays, April and October.
Dodge—4th Mondays, April and October*
Telfair—Thursdays after above.
Jan. 31st, ly.
%
Selected Poetry.
Tit for Tat.
FP.OM THE PE HSIAN.
I met a maid on yon hill side,
And she was fair to see '
“Give me a kiss, fair maid,’’ I cried ;
“Give me a gift,” said she.
“A gift within a purse I have —
The purse is in a pack ;
The purse in keeping iieth safe,
On my good charger’s back.
“And my good charger cometh not.
While on the hill I roam ;
lie lith in his stall, I wot —
My charger is at home. ”
“ And yt-r r h/-.Gist have a hiss, .good - : r;
M; Ups would give it Vtiee,
But they are locked full fast, good sir—-
My mother has the key.
“And my good mother is not here,
While on the hid I roam ;
Just as your trusty steed, good sir,
My mother is at home.”
Wiu ii They Met.
*
!
The wind was damp with coming wet
When J vines and blue-eved Lizzie met;
; He held a gingham o’er his head,
And to the maiden thus he said :
“Oh, lovely girl, my heart’s afire
With love’s unquenchable desire ;
May dearest one, wilt thou be mine,
And join me in the grocery liner”
The maid, in accents sweet replied :
i “Jim, hold the umbrella more my side ;
My bran new bonnet’s getting wet—
I’ll marry yer, yer needn't fret.”
THE TWO MORGANS.
BY MAURICE F. EGAN.
‘But can’t you think of some* new
young men, mamma V demanded Ethel
Thurstane, stopping her monotonous
one, two, three, and casting the notes
of a brilliant polka right and left.—
‘l’m awfully tired of those two young
doctors that come every year, who are
always fighting about that poor, old
Mrs. Gray—their only patient.’
‘ Fighting , my dear V asked her
mother, rebukingly.
‘Well, not exactly coining to blows.
But you know very well that they al
ways sit down on either vide of Mint
unfortunate woman, and look dag
gers al each other. 1 recollect last
year I offered her a saucer of straw
berries and cream ‘Don’t take them,
my dear Mrs. Gray, I implore you,’
said Dr. Merlin, ‘they will certainly in
jure your liver.’ ‘Very beneficial, my
dear madam,’ put in Dr. Jones, ‘1 ad
vise you to take a quart every day.’—
The poor woman looked at me beseech
ingly, so I just took a spoon, and be
gan to feed her with ’em, while the two
dragons watched me.’
Eleanor Dalton laughed. Mrs.
Th urstane fro wned.
‘I would be obliged to 3*oll, Miss
Dalton, if 3*oll would refrain from en
couraging Ethel in her foolishness.—
Drs. Merlin and Jones are very res
pectable young men.’
‘But, mama, I won’t have that clerk
from the post-office. He’s been at
every garden-party* since v*e came
here. He lias a red moustache, and
he d\*es his hair purple. He’s always
following me about, and quoting
pieces out of the Fourth Reader. I
really can’t have him /’
‘But we must, my dear. He is a
nephew ot Brigadier-General Aristides
Spurgeon.”
Ethel screwed her face into an ex
pression of deep disgust.
‘Who next ?’ asked Eleanor Dalton,
nibbling the end of her pen-holder, and
gazing longingly out into the sunlit
garden.
‘Why, mamma, 3*ou’ve forgotten the
new arrival/
‘There arc two of them.’
‘How delightful ! Two new men !
cried Ethel, waltzing airly around the
room. ‘Are they both young? Are
they botli rich ? If they are, Eleanor
and 1 will divide.’
‘Ethel !’
‘Mamma !’
‘Stop this nonsense ! Two Mr. Mor
gans have come to Thistlewood. They
are cousins, I hear. One of them has
lately inherited an immense fortune
from his father. But 1 cannot discover
which is the rich one. They are both
at the Thistlewood Hotel, and thej*
register their names 11. Morgan.’
‘lnvite them both, then,’ said Ethel,
‘and the horrid one will certainly be
the rich one, for people never possess
two good things/
‘Well, Miss Eleanor, address an in
vitation to each. I’ve no doubt that
EASTMAN, DODGE <,X)Ij>TV, GA., W r EL‘XESDAY, JUM3 18, 187 U.
we’ll be able to distinguish them when
they come. Wealth always confers a
certain air, 3*oll know.’ And Mrs.
Thurstane rustling her volumi
nous ruffles and frills, with what she
meant to be ‘a certain air.’
I
Eleanor Dalton hastilj* wrote the in
vitations.
‘That’s all, I believe, Mres Dalton,’
said Mrs. Tnurstane, with a stately in
clination of her head. ‘Come, Ethel,
we must go to the dressmaker’s.’
At this moment two cards were
brought in.
‘ ‘Henry Morgan’ am l ‘Herbert Mor
g. lea Ethel! ’ngj over hoi.
mother’s shoulder: ‘Speak of a certain
person— ’
‘Don’t be vulgar, Ethel; show them
in here, John.’
Oh, Eleanor, is 1113" hair up lightly?’
cried Ethel, rushing to a mirror, and
throwing a paper of caramels under
the piano. ‘Oh, Eleanor, how do 1
look ?
‘As well as usual/returned Eleanor,
looking composedly at Mrs. Thurstane
for further orders.
‘Hadn’t you better go down and see
the gardener about the decorations,
Miss Dalton ?
Whenever eligible male visitors
came, Mrs. Thurstane always asked
some similar question. Her niece,
Eleanor Dalton, was in her 03ms a
dangerous person. She had a beauti
ful face, regular features, a clear com
plexion, and an abundance of golden
brown hair; with eyes, lips, and dim
ples that were ever ready to break in
to a smile; moreover Mrs. Thurstane
had a suspicion that she could be sar
castic.
Ethel Thurstane was a petite, pretty
brunette, continually in a butterfly
like state of activity. Piquant and
pretty As she looked in her well-chosen
morning costume, Eleanor, in her
plain, dark dross, threw her entirely
into the shade.
Mrs. Thurstane was well aware of
tins latter fact, and she generally* pre
ferred that her niece should not he
present when gentlemen visitors ar
rived.
Eleanor rose to leave the room.—
She approached the door, but only* to
confront the two visitors. She hastily
bowed in answer to their salutation,
and made her escape into the garden.
Mrs. Thurstane was a widow, but
she had been twice married, and
Eleanor Dalton was her first husband’s
niece. When Eleanor’s parents had
died, Mrs. Thurstane, thinking 1 that a
well-educated young lady would be a
very desirable companion for Ethel,
had offered her a home. Eleanor, fear
ing to go out among strangers, had
accepted the offer, and she now occu
pied an equivocal position between
that of a governess and a maid-of-all
work in the Thurstane household.—
She was very weary of it all—the nev
er-coating drudgery and daily insults;
but to an inexperienced girl of nine
teen there are few open roads to a
livelihood.
Mrs. Thurstane’s garden-party, on
the last day* of Ma}”, was an annual
event in Thistlewood. Mrs. Thurstane
had given one every year since she
came to the place, and she invited
everybody in the neighborhood who,
in her estimation, was ‘in society.’—
JJer income was not large, and she ex
pended eveiy cent of it; she was a
hard-working woman, and she toiled
for one end—that Etnel might marry
a wealthy man. People envied the
leading lad3* of the small town of
I Thistlewood; they thought she was
like the lilies ot the field; but few of
them knew how diligently she worked
and planned.
The thirty-first of May was very
near, but Eieanor forgot the prepara
tions entirely, and wandered through
the entensive grounds, enjoying the
beaut3 r of the da3 T .
Eleanor heard a step behind her on
the path. It was probabl3* the old
gardener. She stopped to pick the
withered leaves of last 3*ear from a
favorite rose-bush.
‘Donald,’ she said, without turning
round, ‘shall 3*oll have cut flowers
enough ?
‘Mote than enough,’ said a strong
baritone voice, very unlike the thin
quaver of the old gardener, ‘if you will
give iye tnat superb rosebud 3*oll are
to\*mg.with.
Eleanc: started. One of the Mr.
Morgans was smiling upon her. He
was a good-looking, quietly-dressed
young man; there was honesty in his
eyes and firmness about his mouth,
Eleanor thought, and she added, to
herself—
‘They’ve monopolized the rich Mor
gan, and frown the poor one on his
own reson.ves.
‘I keep fie roses of this bash fin*
my particular friends, .■*/„ 1 r w ..
losing toward him, and thoi •* ./ ■
ov£r. - ’ ' /.’• N v ’ •“**- 7* -•' •
rum aliugcToer.
‘ln that case, then, I’ll hasten to be
come an acquaintaine by introducing
myself as a first step toward meriting
a rose from that bush. lam Herbert
Morgan, and you are’—he hes'tated—
‘you are—
‘Myself.’ #
‘Miss Ethel Thurstane’s sister?
‘Not at all. But as 3*oll have gratui
tously informed me that you are Mr.
Morgan, you may as well tell me what
are the latest, styles in the city.
‘I realty don’t know,’ lie returned,
looking blank. ‘Dou‘t you get the
fashion-books here ?
‘Oh, yes. But one prefers the testi
mony ol an eye-witness to oceans of
print.
Well, he returned, all I know is
that you can’t see the stage if there is
a lad3* in front of 3*oll at* the theatre.’
‘Now Mr. Morgan, 3*oll really do not
mean to say that every city dame is
so dazzlingly beautiful that a man can
not look at anything else?
Oh, no! its because of the confound
edly high head-gear that is worn!
Don’t blaspheme—don,t! she said,
stopping her ears. 1 intend to try
that style myself.
Here was a chance for a compli
ment, and Eleanor was not sorry that
the gentleman did not take advantage
of ir. v
‘lt must be very pleasant to live in
a city where one can hear exquisite
music, see fine pictures, and get the
choisest books,’ slic continued
‘lt is pleasant, if one has plenty of
money.’
‘Your cousin must have a delightful
time/ she began, and then checked
herself, fearing that her observation
was not in good taste.
lie waited for her to finish the sen
tence, and then said,
‘Yes, lie seems to enjoy life. Are
you acquainted with him ?’
‘No.’
Ethel now appeared, attended by a
gentleman, who held a parasol over
her head. He was the other Mr. Mor
gan. Tliey came down the path in the
direction of the gate. Ethel introduced
both Mr. Morgans to Eleanor, while
Mrs Thurstane angrily watched the
proceeding from a window.
Mr. Henry Morgan was handsome,
tall, and distinguished-looking ; but
after he bad spoken a few words,
Eleanor concluded, in her hasty way,
that he was careless and superficial.—
His costume was rather too showy,
and he seemed to be very conscious of
his extremely light and tight gloves.
Ethel had evideutl} 7 come to the con
clusion that a man might be rich with
out being horrid, for she chirped away
merrily* to her tall escort ; and when
the two gentlemen had taken their
leave, she declared that Mr. Henry
Morgan was the nicest person she had
ever known ! ‘Nice' and ‘horrid’ were
Miss Thurstane’s favorite adjectives.
‘There’s such a difference between
those men/ said Mrs. Thurstane. Peo
ple may talk about blood and all that,
my dear Ethel, but there’s nothing like
wealth. Ihe moment I saw those two
Morgans, I knew w*hich was the rich
one. Compare Mr. Henry’s perfect
dress with the rather shabby attire of
his cousin. That was sufficient to en
lighten me.’
‘\\ hat is the other one’s occupation?’
asked Eleanor.
‘I don't think it can possibl} 7 concern
3*oll, Miss Dalton ’
‘Don’t be so cross, cheve maman ,’
sang Ethel, capriciously adapting her
w’urds to some bars of a polka she
was practising. ‘Somebody- told us
—one. tw*o, three—somebody told us
that he did the sketches for an illus-
truted
face one,' iro, three everybody
would be eag-e. to see such a miracle
of ue:lincss.’
‘lndeed !’ said Eleanor. ‘I think he
is better-looking than his cousin.’
‘Do you. really?’ asked Ethel, aston
ished. *1 think he's horrid. Do you
really think he’s idee ?’
Eleanor did think so, and ho Had
nearly the same opinion of her.
All Thistlewood eagerly anticipated
Mrs. Thurstane’s garden-party. Ethel
and 'o \ uselessly about the house and
ru . , marvellously busy in appear
"\ ' t • ality doir- ; noThing.— !
Dun ng the to #uays precedn. , h
the whole weight of the preparations
fell on the Eleanor. The
two Morgans came over, and insisted
on being made useful. Mrs. Thurstane
smiled complacently as she noticed
that Henry Morgan was Ethel’s con
stant attendant ; but she thought ‘that
other fellow’ paid entirely too much at
tention to Eleanor Dalton.
On the evening preceding the last
of May, Henry Morgan and Ethel sat
a long while in the twilight, on the pi
azza. Mrs. Thurstane was very angry
when Eleanor offered to take out Ethel’s
shawl.
Herbert Morgan had remained later
than usual this evening. Mrs. Thurs
tane persistently stayed in the parlor.
At last Herbert arose, and offering his
arm to Eleanor, asked if she wouldn’t
take a walk. Eleanor had been in the
house all day, and she was eager for a
breath of fresh air, so she consented
with pleasure to his proposal.
‘The night air is deleterious,’ ob
served Mrs. Thurstane, severely.
‘Shall 1 tell Ethel to come in V asked
Eleanor, innocently.
‘Constitutions differ,’ was Mrs. Thurs
tane’s oracular response.
Herbert and Eleanor walked leisure
ly down the path, talking ol the ar
rangements. for to-morrow’s party.—
They vouched Eleanor’s rose-bush.
'May I take a rose now ?’ asked Her
bert.
‘No,’ responded Eleanor. ‘1 told you
that those flowers are for my friends.’
‘Then I am neither more or less than
a friend.’
‘Considerably less—an acquaintance
of a week’s standing. 7 Eleanor laughed
and tried to withdraw her hand from
his arm. His tone made her wish she
had not come out.
‘Well,’ he said, imprisoning her hand,-
‘l’ve something to say to you, and 1
may as well say it. Iha ven’t time to
beat around the bush, for I’ll have to
leave Thistlewood on business of im
portance the day after to-morrow.—
After the first day I met you I determ
ined that if you wouldn’t be Mrs. Her
bert Morgan, nobody ever should.’
‘A very foolish determination, 7 said
Eleanor, demurely, though feeling very
glad.
‘Answer me, Eleanor Dalton. Will
you be my wife V
‘Good gracious ! llow ridiculously
sudden ! 7
‘Now or never. If you will not be
my wife, 1 will never marry anybody !’
‘Bachelors are generally saltish, 7 said
Eleanor, musingly, ‘and if I thought
the sacrifice of my inclinations would
preserve you from selfishness, I’d
;eay— 7
‘Yes V
‘l’d say,’ composedly continued Elea
nor, ‘that I’d think about it.’
But before he returned with her to
the house lie had obtained the answer
that he wanted, and these two straight
forward, matter-of-fact people had in
half an hour’s time been made liappv.
As they stole into the dimly-lighted
parlor, they saw Henry Morgan and
Ethel standing near Mrs. Thurstane’s
seat. Ethel seemed to be divided be
tween smiles and tears.
‘Mamma, 7 she was saying in her
sweet, chirping voice, ‘dear Harry
asked me if I would love him always
and be his wife. I said I would.
Mrs. Thurstane drew out her hand
kerchief and wiped away some imag
inary tears. ‘Bless you, my children,’
she said, softly, ‘be happy. 7
Herbert squeezed Eleanors hand.
Eleanor dropped a tear iu sympathy.
‘Thank you, dear Mrs. Thurstane.
I was afraid j’oifd make a fuss, 7 broke
in Henry Morgan, enthusiastic in his
[NUMBER
gratitude. ‘And Ethel is sur that
we can Hvc on a thousand dollars a
| year.
-
‘A thousand dollars a year! 7 repeat
ed Mrs. Thurstane. ‘What do you
; mean?
| ‘lndeed, Mrs. Thurstane, 7 said Har
ry, earnestly, ‘I make nearly that
much now, and old Mudget of the
i Illustrated—
/hat does this mean? 7 demanded
Mrs Thurst anc in toneS sufficiently
d*vp to have rivalled those of the re
nowned Mrs. Siddons. Have I beeu
deceived? 1 have becnj informed on
• b autho. Ay. that you are worth at
Hast uve Hundred thousand.
‘Oh, no, ma’am! that’s my cousin!’
said Henry, as if a matter of small
importance.
Mrs. Thurstane murmured the word
‘impostoi, in the lowest note on the
scale; then she screamed it on the
highest, and then she went into hys
terics.
It was quite operatic, Henry Mor
gan said afterward.
There was no garden-party the fol
low.ng day. Mrs. Thurstane was in
disposed. All Thistlewood was very
sorry, of course, but all Thistlewood
united in pronouncing Mrs. Thurstane
an unreasonable woman. The idea of
inviting people to a May-party, and
then being indisposed!
All Thistlewood forgave her how
ever, when she made a virtue of ne
cessity and gave a grand fete on the
occasion of the double wedding of tho
Morgan’s.
She distrusts appearances now.
An individual living near Royal
Oak called on the Detroit chief of po
lice last week, to ascertain if Detroit
was going to celebrate the Fourth of
July. lie was very anxious to find
out, because as be explained, ‘lf yarn
are going to sling powder and have a
whooping old Fourth of July, I want
to get a red flannel shirt and anew
i?sdr of V <>ts, and come in with Sarah.
Stood It Until llk Got Mad. —Tho
Detroit Free Press relates an
incident which occured on the return
of an excursion party from ftiat city.
Soon after the boat left Toledo, the
steward was approached by an exci
ted individual, who asked him if ho
was the captain. The Steward replied
in the negative, at the same time giv
ing his rank.
‘Have you the power to put a man
out of the cabin? 7 inquired the stran
ger.
‘Well, yes, if he is disorderly, I
have, 7 replied the steward.
‘Well, sir look in here and see them
will you? 7 said the stranger, leading
the official round to the door. The
steward looked at the motley group
and replied that he saw nothing out
of the way.
You don’t eh? Don’t you see a
man in there hugging a woman? 7
‘Well, yes,’ replied the steward; but
what of that? Hasn’t a man the right
to embrace his wile? 7
‘That's what I want you to run him
oft for replied the stranger, dancing
around; ‘that’s my wife and I've stood
it so long that I’ve got mad! 7
What Came of Giving Away an Autograph.
—lt may be as well to inform all tbe readers of
the Post, at once, that it is perfectly useless to
ask us for our autograph. We have firmly re
solved not to give it under any circumstances,
and for this i eason : Some years ago we fur
nished our signature and a card-photograph of
ourself to a man named Muilaney, who pro
fessed to have a warm affection for us. But
Muilaney, instead of putting the autograph iu
his collection, affixed it to a letter to the Czar
of Russia, asking him to lend him ten thous
and dollars on iong time. Of course he got
it, and not until the Czar hinted at the subject
one day, when we were playing leap-frog with
him at the palace, were we aware of the trans
action. It took our entire income for a month
to settle the obligation. Worse than this, Mui
laney began to make love to the oldest daugh
ter of the Khedive of Egypt, and he sent her
our photograph when he proposed. She ac
cepted him instantly, of course, and her father
chased us around Egypt on a dromedary for
six weeks with a bowstring and yataglian, try
ing to interview us upon the subject, in order
to ascertain why we would not marry the girl
at once. We avoided him by dodging around
one of the pyramids, and left for Greece the
next morning in a gunning-skiff'. So we have
resolved never to ran the same risk again.—
Persons who wish to look at us, can do so by
calling at the office and subscribing for the pa
per. — Saturday Evening Post.
Tho funny man of the Danbury
News—Mr. Bailey—is getting’ out a
book composed of clipping's from his
paper.