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EASTMAN TIMES. A Real Live Country Paper. Published every V'ednrgday Morning. b"y n. s. burton, Terms of Subscription i One year $2 .00 Co ry si* months j Ten <*bptes, in c lnb* one year, each....;; ]gg Single copies... , ’. f~All subscriptions invariably !n advance No name entered upon the list until the. subscription is THE POOR WORKING MAN. by henry t. stanton. Ih there no secret place on the faee of the earth Where charity dwelleth, where virtue hath birth 7 Where bosoms in mercy and kinduess wiUheave, And the i>oor and the wretched shaft ask and re ceive ; . Is there no place on earth where a knock from the poor Will bring a kind angel to open the door? All! search the wide world wherever you can, There is no open door for a poor workingihan * flo, look fn yon hall, where the chandelier’s light, Drive*,off with its splendor the darkuess. of night; Where the rich harering velvet, in shadowy fold, Sweeps gracefully flown wi*h its trimming of gold, And the mirropn of Skiver take up and renew, In joug lighted vistas, the wildering view— <io there ill your patches, and find, if you can, A welcoming smile for a poor workiugmau ! 00, look in your Church of the cloud-reaching spire, Which gives back to the sun his same look of red lire; W I or'rt lie arches and eolmmM within, And the walls seefn as pure as a soul without sin ; fro down the long aisle—see the rich and the great In the pride and the pomp of lluyr worldly estate— Walk down in your patches, and find, if you can, One who opens a pew t" a poor workingman ! fro look to yon judge in his dark flowing gown, tv ith the scales wherein law weighs eipiity down. Where he frowns on the weak, and smiles on the strong. And punishes riglib while he jiyitilios wrong; Where jurors t4oirltf>*on the Ritileliave laid, t'o render a verdict they’ve already made— fro there, in the court-room, and iiud, if you can, Any law for the cause of a poor workingman ! fro, look in tho banks, where Mammon has told TTis hundred of thousands of silver aud gold; Where safe from the binds of the starving aud poor, Lies pile upon pile of the glittering ore; Walk up to the counter -all! there you may stay, Till your limbs grow old and your hair turns gray, And you’ll find at the banks n<> one of tho clan With money to leud to a poor workiugmau ! Then go to yoiir hoveljio raven lias fed 'file wife who has -subAred Mo* long for her bread; Kneel down to her pallet., aud kiss the death frost From the lips of tho angel your poverty lost; Then turn in your agony upward to God, And bless while it. smites you, the chastening rod; And-you’ll find at the Cud of your life’s little span, There’s a welcome above for a poor Workingman ! LOST OR WON AT WIMBLETON. “ I shall look out for you at Wimble tpn.” Those were his last words as he put her into her carriage after tho Nor wood's pleasant dance; words that had dwelt in her memory moro than she would care, perhaps, to acknowledge. And it ivas witli undisguised pleasure that she now turned to answer his eager greeting. Very pretty slio looked in her dainty dress and ribbons; and so Ralph Leices ter thought when he met the earnest glance of her gray eyes uplifted to his. He felt as though he could then and there have pledged himself her life long slave, instead of prosing on about the heat and the shooting, and a thou sand othor commonplaces, which go to make up an ordinary conversation. As it was, I think his gaze was sufficiently expressive, and that Margaret Done ap preciated its silent eloquence quite as mueh as she would have done moro out spoken admiration. They had met for tho first time at a pie-nic some two years before, and then not seen each other again till the dance I have referred to; but each held a lively remembrance of the pleasant day spent together, and had been glad to renew their acquaintance. Now they seemed quite like old friends, and more than one remark was made during the day on the attention Leicester was pay ing tP that pretty Miss Dene ; while the men wondered, as they will do some times, what tho latter found in her com panion so attractive. Handsome young exquisites looked down upon him from the superiority of their good looks and greater number of inches, and said that, “by Jove she’d a funny taste !” reflect ing, perhaps, on her apparent blindness to their perfections, and evident liking for tho “ugly little barrister.” Ugly ho was ; but in spite of his plain face and somewhat short stature there was talent and power in his strongly marked featuros, and an indescribable freshness and vigor about his character which Margaret Dene at once recognized and admired. . No luncheon party could bo merrier than that which-gathered fn the tent of Charlie Dene, captain of the rifles. ITis own spirits was overflowing, aud his guests seemed to have caught the infec tion of his gayety. “Who knows whotlier the report is true that Clara Rivers has gone off with Tom Lightfootof tho Engineers?” asked somebody. “I do,” answered Charlie. “Old Rivers told me about it himself this morning. Ha’s furious, and says they shall neither of them ever touch a penny of his money. By the bye, Travers,” ho added, turning round sud denly upon a conceited, foolish-looking young man at his side, “ we ought to condole with you, I fancy; wore you not rat her sweet in that quarter ?” “Not at all,” answered Travers, try ing vainly to look unconcerned. “I— aw—we wero only amusing ourselves.” “ Oh, I see,” said a voice from the end of the table; “attention without inten tion, as somebody has detailing flirting. Very kind of you though, old fellow, to let her use yon as a blind. Or perhaps she despaired of your ever coming to the point, audit’s pique after all, that has led her into this marriage ?” Such a roar of laughter followed this sally that Charlie called for order, and begged to know the cause of it. “Did you never hear that story?" said Bob Lambert, fixing his merciless eyes on poor Travers, who was becom ing more and more uncomfortable under this chaff. “One evening, the lovely Clara threw over our friend here for a waltz with troistemps Charlie, and when he called her to order for her faithlessness she only laughed. Trav ers could not understand t-uch indiffer ence, until at last the happy thought occurred to him that he had himself danced three times with a certain young lady in blue. ‘I know why you did it,’ he said, inspired with this new idea; ‘it was pique.’ ‘Pique? Mr. Travers,’ replied Flora ; and they said her face was quite sublime in its innocence; ‘I don’t know the word ; what does it mean ?' By tho bye, I never heard your answer,” he added, across the table, to the unhappy youth; “ rather difficult to find one, was it not ?” “How charming ! Quite a situation.” chimed in another voice, with such an exact imitation of Travers’s speech and manner, that Charlie, in his character of host, began to feel things had gone far enough ; and to turn the tide of conver sation he broke it with a question on his cousin Margaret’s long tete-a-tete with Ralph Leicester. “ Who do you think 1 saw to-day, Meg? Your old friend, Cecil Collins; I i h I fir fefiwu §mmi By E. S. BUKTON. VOLUME I. he made most particular inquiries after you.” “Do you know Collins?” said Ralph, looking up. For a moment Margaret hesitated, and her companion’s quick eye detected the strange expression which flitted across her countenance ; but she recovered her self-possession almost immediately as she answered; “ We were near neighbors and great friends as children, but I have not seen him now for several years.” “Ah,” said Charlie, “you would scarcely know him again; he is hand some still, but a mere wreck of his former self. He’s not forgotten how to shoot, though ;; by George, his scores are something already, Leicester, for I’ve backed you for the que n’s prize against all the ladies I know : Froment’s whole stock couldn’t clear mo if you lost.” “ Take my advice and hedge at once, then,” answered Ralph, laughing; then lowering his voice he added : “ Miss Dene, will you wish mo suc cess ?” “ With all my heart, Mr. Leicester.” “I think I shall succeed, then,” he said, in his odd, cool way. “Do you know I can understand now how tho=e old knights used to perform such prod igies of valor, inspired by their fair la dy’s scarf as a talisman? May I be equally favored ?” and he laid a mean ing hand on the rose at her side. “I fear the days of chivalry are over,” answered Margaret; but as slio did not attempt to repossess herself of the flower, I think she was quite willing he should prove its talismatic powers. “Not at all, fair lady; and when I bring the trophy of victory to lay at your feet, I shall expect the reward of my prowess.” Margaret looked up, not quite know ing how to take this speech, but, if she read any serious meaning in his eyes, tho light laugh and low bow which ac companied the words seemed meant to pass them oft’ as a jest. “ Leicester,” broke in Charlie again, “did you say you knew Cecil Collins?” “Wo were at Oxford together for a short time,” answered Ralph ; “he came up there about six months before I left —in time to do me a service I hope I shall never forget. He saved my life,” he added, in answer to Margaret’s quick look of inquiry. “I was attacked by a mad dog one day, a huge creature, when I had nothing but a slight cane in my hand ; aud it would have been all up with me, then and there, had not Collins, a mere youth freshly arrived at college, been passing at that moment. He rushed forward just as tho brute’s teoth were about to grab my arm, and, seizing its collar dragged it off’, holding it back by main force till somebody from behind came up and gave it the coup de grace. He is a brave fellow, whatever are his faults, aud has made mo liia debtor to no small amount.” “Poor Cecil!” sighed Margaret to herself ; but Ralph caught the words, and a pang of jealousy came over him as ho thought that thereby lmug a tale. Perhaps it was as well he could not see the vision which rose before his companion’s eyes just then ; the vision of a quaint old parsonage garden, with a boy and girl standing there among the roses and saying good-by—to more, ah, how much more, than they them selves knew!—he to go forth into the world and, fall from his high re solves and noble ambitions into the downward path, too fearfully easy to travel along ; aud she to remain in her quiet home and dream of an impossi ble future. None knew what to her had been the awakening from those dreams when the first faint rumor, which she strove to disbelieve, readied her, and then when later she knew be yond a doubt that the idol she wor shiped was of clay, all unfit for the shrine she had found it. Hers was a self-contained nature ; the wound had bled sorely, but no one guessed its presence—only her . family were wont to remark, “How quiet Mar garet has become !” It was now com pletely healed, how completely she has not realized till these last few days, though the scar was still left, and would not bear handling too roughly. Perhaps all of this will account for the fact of Margaret Dene being yet unmarried at the advanced age of five and-twepty; a fact which her friends were never tired of wondering at. Beforo many minutes my heroine’s thoughts were recalled to the present by the general breaking-up of the par ty, and somehow the an revoir whis pered in her ear by earnest tones made her quite forget to revert again to such sad retrospections. * * * * * * * “Who’s won?” shouted a chorus of voices as, two days later, Charlie saun tered into his mother’s drawing-room. “ Please Charlie, do tell us quickly who won?” “Who won what? Do boa little quiet, girls; it’s far too hot to exert one’s-self this weather. How d’ye do, Margaret? I never saw you anything but cool in all my life; wish I could say ditto for myself and catching up a fan, the young man threw himself in to an easy-chair with a great affectation of feeling overcome. “ Come, Chrales, don’t be such a tease ! Who got the queen’s prize ! We are all dying to know. ’ “ Much good may the knowing do you then,” said Charlie. “Cecil Collins has got it." “Cecil Collins !” and Margaret’s voice this time joined the others. “ Why, you said Mr. Leicester was sure of it.” “I never said anything of the kind; aud besides, if I did, I don’t pretend to the pope’s infallibility.” After which Charlie tried the effects of the veranda and cigar on his ruffled feelings. So the rose did not answer after all, thought Margaret, as she walked to the window to ask what score Mr. Leicester had made. “Leicester never shot at all,” was Charlie’s gruff response. “ Never shot at all! Why not ?” “ That’s just what nobody knows. The fellows are saying it looks awfully fishy; and Travers, who can always kick a man when lie’s down, liiuts that he’s got into some trouble or other, as those wonderfully clever men are sure to do ; but that's mere jealousy, because Travers is such a fool himself. Ha ! there’s Phillips and dinner; I always look upon the two as synonymous. EASTMAN, DODGE CO., GEORGIA, AVEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 1873. Come along, Meg, let’s try to forget about shooting for a while, or it will de cidedly affect my brain after all I have heard of it, to-dav.” If Charlie’s brain wero not affected, somebody’s else appetite was ; the song she had been practicing, that afternoon, would keep recurring to Margaret’s memory, with its refrain of Shakspeare’s verse : “Then sigli no more, ladies; ladies, sigh no more; Men were doceivers ever ; One foot on sea and one on 6hore, To one thing constaut never.” * * * # * * * “ Have you a dance to spare me, Miss Deuc ?” “I fear not, Mr. Leicester;” and, without glancing at her programme, Margaret turned toward her companion to continue the conversation Ralph had broken ip upon, nor did she look round, again tuTsirfe Knew Me Mad left tier side. It was their first meeting since that luncheon party at Wimbledon, now more than a month ago, when Ralph Leicester had been foolish enough to talk a great deal of nonsense, which she had been still more foolish in believing, so Margaret said to herself. She did not in the least credit all the disagreea ble things people were saying about him; but he had shown pretty plainly, by his silence all this time, his perfect indifference to her good opinion, and she determined on that point to meet him more than half way. She had j ust arrived at this conclu sion when Cecil Collins came forward to claim her for the waltz then commenc ing ; and as she walked down the room on his arm, not a lew turned to gaze at the handsome eouple and wonder who they were ; a wonder easily satisfied, for Cecil, at least, was becoming well known. Not only had he won tho queen’s prize, which in itself made him a sufficiently marked man, but with that prize he had come into the heirship of a large fortune. His uncle, a rich and eccentric old bachelor, who was wont to describe him self as “the best shot of his day, sir,” and who considered that quite descrip tion enough of any man, was so delight ed to fiud his scapegrace nephew turn ing out a distinguished marksman that ho wrote to him, promising not only to pay his debts, but to make anew will in his favor, if only that nephew suc ceeded in carrying off the prize of the year. A strange excuse, through which the truth showed somewhat pathetically, for making one last effort to reclaim the prodigal; that so, if it were possible, this only son of his dead brother might still be found worthy to fill his place, when that place should have become va cant ; instead of the old home and well filled coffers passing into the hands of strangers. The dance over, Margaret and Cecil strolled through the open window into the moonlit garden beyond, glad to ex change the heated atmosphere of the ball-room for the cool night air. Did tlieir thoughts wauder back to that oth er garden they had stood together in, long ago, ere sin and sorrow came to overshadow their young lives? Per haps so, for both were unusually silent; and it was not till they had paced the whole length of the terrace that Cecil roused himself to say that which he had brought his companion out there for the express purpose of telling her. “ Margaret,” he said, “Ralph Leices ter is a friend of yours, is he not ?” “An acquaintance would be the more correct term.” “ Why so ? I have heard your names coupled together more than once; yet ju t now I myself saw you refuse to dance with him. Are you offended, like all the rest of the world, because he threw up the shooting at Wimbleton? or, perhaps, because he did so without telling you the reason ?” Margaret’s only answer was a sugges tion to go in; the night air felt chilly, she thought. “Not yet, Margaret; not till I have told you what is weighing on my con science, if, indeed, such a thing, is still left me,” said Cecil, with rather a bit ter laugh, “People are saying that Ralph Leicester has promised to win the queen’s prize for your sake, aud that you have thrown him over for giving it up. How far that may be true, I feel I have no right to ask, but as I, and I alone, can tell you his real reason for not shooting, I suppose he would rather lose even you than confess it himself, you must listen to me a few minutes while Ido so. Long ago I was fortunate enough to save his life in an encounter with a mad dog. I had almost forgot ten the circumstance, but it seemed that Leicester retained a very vivid remem brance of it; and when, the day before tho prize was to be shot for, my uncle’s strange intentions came to his knowl edge—how,- I do not know, as I had tried my best to keep the world ignor ant of the stake for which I had played —and he found that thus something more tliku life, reputation and the means of once more facing the world, were within my reach if only I could be suc cessful—he generously determined no act of his should diminish my chance ; and by quietly withdrawing from the shooting, paid back his debt to me mul tiplied a thousand times. The prize is mine, Margaret, and with it the new life that has opened upon me; but I need hardly tell you how I shall count it all too dearly bought if Leicester's future happiness has been sacrificed to its payment.” Half an hour later, as Ralph Leices ter was standing moodily in the door way, his meditations were broken in upon by a dance-programme falling at his feet, as some waltzsrs flew past him. He stooped to pick it up, not at all knowing who was its owner, and ab sently ran his eye down the list of names inscribed therein. His indiffer ence vanished, however, when, toward the end he came to his own, written in a remarkably clear hand. It was odd, lie thought, decidedly odd ; as, with one exception, he had asked no one to dance with him that evening. He was just beginning to wonder who the scribe could be, when a voice said at his side : “ I think you have picked up my pro gramme, Mr. Leicester !” and turning round he met the soft glance of a pair of gray eyes, which, this time, were not averted from his gaze. Now, perhaps, it would only have been shewing proper pride to have repelled such advances from a young lady who had decidedly snubbed him at the com- In God we Tniat, mencement of the evening, but, if so, Ralph Leicester proved himself lamen tably wanting in such pride at that mo ment, though, as a rule, meekness was not counted among llis virtues. His face softeued marvelously as he returned the programme, and there was an earnest ness in his voice which Margaret’s ear was quick to discow r, though he only said : . “ No. 23 is our dance, I believe ?” “If you still care to claim it,” she answered, blushiug, and tho next mo ment her impatient partner had once more whirled her off into the dance. If he still cared to claim it! Ay, did he not ? That, and a great deal more besides, as Margaret found wlicu she once again paced the terrace, with Ralph Leicester as her companion ; and that such claim had been accepted. Cecil was iHit,slow -to when he watched their return to the ball-room after -more than an hour’s. absence. “ There goes for my first attempt in the good line,” said he, looking after them somewhat ruefully, “and a pre cious hard one I’ve found it, too ; but as the French have it, ( Ce n'est. que le premier pan qui coute aud the next step may be easier. God knows my folly has taught me a bitter lesson ; I will try what the other thing can do for me now.” And lie did try, setting his face right manfully to the battle. Who can doubt of his success? Verily, there had been more at stake, that summer’s day at Wimbledon, than the world in its phi losophy could guess. Our Future Wealth. That our country is eventually to take the lead of all the world in wealth, must be plain to any one who fairly estimates of her as yet undeveloped re sources. Since steam has been applied to com merce and manufactures, the produc tive coal fields of Great Br.tiau have been her chief sourco of strength. These coal-fields have been worked for a great number of years, and many of them show symptoms of exhaustion. They are, moreover, insignificant in extent, as compared with what this country possesses. The aggregate area of the coal fields of Great Britain and Ireland is, at most, but 12,000 square miles, while that of the United States is at least 190,000 square miles. The coal area of Canada, mostly in Nova Scotia, is put dowu at 18 square miles. If the quantity of coal iu each given acre be about the same, then Nova Scotia is richer in coal than Great Britain ever was, and the United States is more than sixteen times as rich. In fact, according to elaborate estimates made by Prof. Rogers, the whole of Europe contains but one-twelfth the quantity of coal which exists in this couutry. The present available quan tity in the British Islands is estimated at 190,000 millions of tons, while that of France and Belgium is set down at 95,- 000 millions. Coal aud iron go together. One is, as it were, a factor to the other ; without iron, coal would lose a large portion of its value ; without coal iron ore would be comparatively worthless. Though unlike they are still nearly related in their range of uses. The iron engine is rendered serviceable through the power which coal supplies, and the iron horse aud iron ship are propelled through the force which it develops. The rich distribution of iron ores in close proximity to all our gieat coal measures is a prophetic indication of our future wealth. All history shows that wealth and population gravitate toward centres enriched by the valued presence of coal and iron. No other country is as well supplied as the United States in these twin agencies of wealth, power, and population, consequently no other country will be as wealthy, as populous, and as powerful. Our largest coal field is that known as the “Great Appalachian.” Passing through Western Virginia, Eastern Ken tucky, aud Eastern Tennessee, it ter minates in Alabama, vihero it makes its nearest approach to gulf and ocean waters. As yet this great field is com paratively untouched ; but it is now attracting attention, aud several blast furnaces for the production of iron have already been established, not only on tho line of the Chesapeake and Ohio railroad, but iu Alabama, toward the field’s most southern extremity. When the south is supolied with transportation facilities equal to those now existing in Pennsylvania, the coal aud iron trade of Alabama will be a power in this southern land, greatly exceeding that which the coal and iron of the Keystone state are to-day in the land of Penn. The field is in every respect an inviting one. With a genial, healthy climate, a generous soil, and unparalleled facilities for the produc tion of iron and other valuable minerals, Alabama must soon command the atten tion slie deserves. New Birminghams aud Sheffields will soou spring up with in her borders, and new Manchesters, also, for she has all the raw material at command which has built up England’s great textile city. The Literature of Our Home Railroads. Along the line of Massachusetts rail roads, one thing is remarkable—the character of books which the train boy brings you. Trashy novels and pam phlet biographies of celebrated crimi nals flung rudely in your lap ? No !he comes to you with Virgil, Tacitus, Shakspeare, Milton, “Liffith Lank,” Herbert Spencer, “St. Twel’mo,” John Stuart Mill—good solid reading. And he converses with you about the books, and tells you who wrote them. And I have not a doubt that by traveling over the Boston and Albany, and New Haven aud Northampton railroads for fonr or five years, aud reading the Springfield Republican continually, a man will pick up about as much information as he could at college, and might eventually be able to answer all the questions that sociably inclined old ladies on the back seat may ask him. Lest my statement as to the character of books perused on the railroads of this state may be doubt ed, I wish now to affirm that, glancing over the shoulder of a young man sit ting in front of me, in the' hope that he might have a guide-book that I could get a chance to borrow, I found that he was whiling away the time with “Ciesar, i fiber Secundus.” — John Raul , in New York Iribune. THE BUTCHERY IN uUBA. Details of the Sea Race-Sps'iii h Re joicings—The Kxecutious. from New York Times Havana Letter. The news of the Virginias having fallen into the hands of the Spaniards was received here on the morning of the Ith. By the Peninsulars it was hailed with the utmost demonstrative joy, and the Cubans received it with the greatest consternation. At once it was all over the town. The papers printed special supplements, giving the telegram as re ceived by the commander general of the navy, and the streets were hung from end to end with the national colors. IIOW THE CAPTURE WAS EFFECTED. On the afternoon of the 31st the Tor nado corvette, while cruising near the Aserradero, sighted a steamer whose appearance looked suspicious, and at 2:30 the chase commenced, <he Tornado going at the rate of thirteen or fourteen knots an hour, and gaining steadily on the flying steamer. Night came on, but the moon shed her light over the waters and made the forms of both vessels dis tinctly visible. The chase lasted until ten at night, and by this time the Vir ginius was within cannon shot of the Tornado. The corvette then fired a gun as a summons for surrender, but no notice was taken. Three or four others followed, and the capture was complete, boing effected within a very short dis tance of the Jamaica ooat‘ Tho com mander of the Tornado gives it at twenty miles. SPEECH OF VARONA WHEN CAPTURED. Not the slightest resistance was offered by those on board the Virginius; all were made prisoners, and brought on board the Tornado. The Spaniards say that when Barnabe Varona came on board he expressed a desire to speak with the Spanish commander, and his request having been granted, spoke as follows: “I congratulate you ou the capture which you have just made, and the importance of which you can not well appreciate in this moment. You are not aware of the materials which we were bringing, nor do you know the effect which they would have produced had they been spread through the is! aud. The capture of the steamer Virgin s may quite well put an end to the insur rection.” TIIE SPANIARDS WILD WITH JOY. Duri' g the chase the Virginius was engaged in throwing everything over board that could help to lighten the vessel, and hams, tallow, an I petroleum were used for the furnaces in the vain endeavor to escape. This has reduced the value of the prize to the steamer aud prisoners. The Tornado, with her prize in tow, arrived at Santiago de Cuba about 5 p. m. on the Ist, and the excite ment when the capture became known may be imagined. People scarcely knew what to do, perhaps from the ab solute want of practice in receiving such trophies. Steamers with steam up blew their whistles, ai,<i rung bells, and several crews cheered. At intervals, the Spanish vessels in the harbor hoisted more flags, as fast as they could hunt them up. The chief demonstration was made by the Don Juan de Austria, a sort of cross between a gun-boat and a bathing machine, and remarkable for its extreme antiquity. This noble vessel fired five guns, no doubt to celebrate the capture and its own retirement into private life until the next expedition. The Virginius was brought in with the Spanish flag flying, the American flag, which had been hoisted during the chase, being twisted about the taffrail. On the return to Santiago, it was found that she was mailing so much water that it was necessary to run her on shore. THE TRIAL OF THE PRISONERS. The prisoners’ trial as p'rates was commenced in court-martial on the morning of the 2nd, and by the time the news of the capture reached us in Havana the fate of four was decided. THE CONSUL NOT ALLOWED TO INTERFERE. The American consul was not allowed to interfere in any way. A telegram to his colleague in Jamaica, asking about the nationality of the Virginius, was not allowed to pass by the government. The four executed are the only members of the ill-fated expedition who have been identified so far. Ninety are said to be Cubans, and twelve foreigners— the rest of the 165 being supposed to compose the crew. The crew, it is re ported, will be brought round to Ha vana. and it appears probable, as two Spanish men-of-war have been dis patched to Santiago—one from here, and the other from Batabario. CONTINUOUS CELEBRATIONS. From the afternoon of the day on which the news of the capture arrived in Havana, serenades to the captain gen eral, the general of marine, and other dignitaries, have been the order of the day, and even up till uow, when I write, the palace and principal streets are dec orated with flags. It is not known yet whether Santa Rosa formed one of the expedition, for, although his name does not appear in the list, which has been published, it is possible that he may have been, but under an assumed name. LANDING OF THE CREW OF THE VIRGINIUS. Yesterday afternoon the whole of the members of the Virginius expedition were brought on shore. Forces from the men-of-war guarded tliem to the shore, and, aided by volunteers, con ducted them to ihe prison. The pris oners walked four in a row and with their arms tied, mostly all in their shirt sleeves, and had generally a dirty ap pearance. Nearly all walked firmly, with their heads up, and with a reckless look on their faces. Many were smil ing ; none appeared much affected by their situation. Bembeta was landed by himself about half an hour after. He also had his arms tied, and was es corted by four marines, a corporal, and an officer. He marched firmly up the street to the jail. The wharf and neighborhood were crowded by a curi ous throng, a noticeable feature being a large comparsa of negroes, with their flags flying and drams beating. THE LAST HOURS OF CAPT. FRY. On Friday afternoon, the 7th inst., thirty-seven of the crew of the Virginius were brought on shore and taken to the prison, to remain there until their exe cution, which was ordered for that after noon. Capt. Fry, a noble-looking old man, fully a head taller than the rest of the crew, when he met his men on the $ 2 00 per Annum. NUMBER 44. wharf, previous to the march to the prison, sainted them all. The salute was returned with affection. At 4:45 Capt. Fry and thirty-six men and offi cers, were publicly shot, despite the protest of all competent foreign author ities. The marines were seven minutes killing the wretched prisoners. It seemed as if they would never finish. At last the sailors marched off and the troops file l past the long row of corpses. Then the dead carts were hurried up and loaded indiscriminately with the mangled remains. The American vice consul did all that could have been done. Indeed, it was threatened that his exequatur would be withdrawn for his exertions in behalf of the prisoners. In an interview with Gen. Burriel, that officer yelled at him and otherwise treated him disrespectfully. The Brit ish consul also made an ineffectual pro test against the executions. It is re ported that sixteen of the victims were British subjects. A British Prediction of the Future of American Iron. Notwithstanding the efforts of our British exchanges to convince themselves and their readers that the importation of American iron into England is im possible, the very idea of such a thing seems to be a nightmaro of horror to them. They cannot let the Hiihjaot I oTon i\jL a week. Says Iron, in its last issue : “The tall talk of last week on the importation of American iron into Liv erpool has been supplemented by asser tions that the mills of Pittsburg, Pa., are rolling boiler plates for Ireland, and that a large consumer in South Stafford shire has lately concluded a contract with a Pennsylvania rolling mill for 3,000 tons finished iron. Although mauy of the reports now flying about will be found destitute of foundation, there is little doubt that the Americans have succeeded in elbowing us out of the Canadian market, and that, both Au stralian and South American purchas ers of hardware are attracted by the beautifully finished American work, which, although dearer, is infinitely more saleable than ours. Great and well founded apprehensions are enter tained that the development of the im mense mineral resources of Virginia will seriously affect, if not entirely ex tinguish, our iron trade with America,” How nmch or little of truth there may be in the statements above made concerrning American steel boiler plates and finished iron for British consump tion, we are not prepared to say. We have heard the stories, and are, conse quently, disposed to receive them cum grano salts ; but Iron is right in what it has to say about our growing trade with Canada, Australia and South Amer ica, and is probably not far astray in its predictions as to the ultimate benefits which will follow the development of the vast coal and iron resources of the Virginias. The probable rapidity of this development may be estimated from the fact that seven ore beds, sev enteen coal mines and twelve furnaces are now in operation on or near the line of the Chesapeake and Ohio railroad. Kentucky, Tennessee and Alabama are also developing their iron resources, and in a few years the south will con tribute largely to the iron production of the country. When that time comes we shall not only have no use for Brit ish iron, but we may have some of our own make to spare for such of our neighbors as may want it. Cassagnac, the Editor Bully of Paris. To have been a decided opponent of the late imperial regime is to have had the bitter enmity, the constant abuse, the unmitigated insults of Monsieur Paul de Cassagnac heaped upon one, and in several cases these onslaughts of the fiery editor have led to meetings, generally resulting in the wounding of Cassagnac’s antagonists. Still young and very vigorous, he is at least six feet, very broad and muscular. Mon sieur de Cassagnac, by daily practice, lias attained such skill at fencing that it is next to impossible to touch him. Almost invariably the first offense is given by de Cassagnac. He makes it a boast that his abuse is never stinted, and when in consequence he is chal lenged, he selects small swords as the weapons for an encounter. He is safe in doing so, as but few men can compete with him, and those who make the en deavor generally receive a thrust for their pains. Monsieur Paul is a very conspicuous personage in the street. He is very tall and broad-shouldered, and he wears a very large and peculiar looking hat, which he cocks over upon his left ear. So much does he incline his hat that sometimes one wonders that it does not fall off. Monsieur Cassag nac walks in a bold, defiant manner, and carries a huge walking-stick, which he, from time to time, swings ominous ly from side to side, as though just preparing to smasli the head of some imaginary foe, and I have noticed that at such times the passers-by do not fail to point him out very admiringly. As for the ladies, they admire Monsieur de Cassagnac very openly. He is so large, so dark, his eyes are so black and so bright, and he is so very notorious, you know.— Courier-Journal. Didn't Suit Her. —’Twas a shawl the girl wanted. Now the polite merchant prides himself upon his good taste, and, having a large stock of shawls, thinks that where he fails to suit, it is useless for any one else to try. He selected a shawl and ai ranged it in the manner now worn, having some trouble in get ting it to lay down in front just to his notion. Ho succeeded, however, and, stepping back a few paces, asked how that suited. “Humph,” replied the girl, “I wouldn’t be found dead in the woods with that shawl on.” The shawl was restored to the box by his affable clerk. ‘ —lf many professing Christians should speak out the things they really feel, instead of the smooth prayers which they do pray, they would say when they go home at night, “O Lord, I met a poor wretch of yours to-day—a miserable, unwashed brat—and I gave him sixpence, and I have been sorry for it ever since.” —A company has been organized in San Francisco, with a capital of $500,- 000, for the manufacture of jute bags and twine. EASTMAN TIMES. RATES OF ADVERTISING: ■ ■ - - -I ■ stack. la Bm. Bm. 11 m. One square $4 00 $ 7 £2 Two squares. 638 12 1)0 f1? Four squares 976 19 0° t on One-fourth 001. 11 60 23 50 {B4 00 48 00 One-half col 30 00 83 60 i56 00 80 00 One oolumn 35 00 j6OOOA SO 00 130 00 Advertisements inserted at the rate of $1.50 per square for the first insertion, and 75 cents for eacn subsequent one. Ten lines or less constitute a square. . Professional cards, $16.00 ppr annum, for six months, SIO.OO, In advance. GLEANINGS AND GOSSIP. —Several negro families are prepar ing to emigrate from East Tennessee to Liberia. —A stock company is said to have been formed at Griffin, Ga., for the manufacture of coffee from persimmon seeds. —One female clerk in the treasury department can count 9,000 notes in an hour, and has counted 4,000 in twenty minutes. —George Law at forty-five worked as a day-laborer on the docks of New York. He is now worth about $10,000,000 law ful money. —Death is as near to the young as the old. Here is all the difference ; death stands behind the young man’s back, and before the old man’s face. —There lias been a break in the em bankment of the Mississippi river, just below St. Louis, and the inhabitants were obliged to confiscate a Chicago man’s boots to plug it up with. —A western genius has an idea which is an idea. He rroposes to arrange church seats on pivots so the devout may more conveniently examine the toilets of those in the back seats. —The sun is now working about ten hours per day, but proposes a gradual iioiion rvr OXX weeks, in order to help the gas compa ny, and also the dealers in kerosene and tallow candles. —A happy misquotation by a young lady, whose gentleman caller staid too late, caused a speedy good-by. The clock struck twelve, and she remarked : “Now is the witching hour of night, when people yawn.” —Says the Detroit Free Press : A New Hampshire man was struck on the head with an axe and made an idiot for life, and yet the man who struck him was fined only $65. It doesn’t damage a New Hampshire man much to make a fool of him. “ You needn’t come qu Saturday night, or any other night,” was the soothing remark, written in delicate female characters on a postal-card which winged its way through the Leaven worth postoffice, the other day. —The whole number of Modocs sent to the island in South Platte river, near fort McPherson, Neb., is one hundred and fifty-seven, the most noticeable of whom is Miss Mary Jack, who is eigh teen, and handsome and has long, wavy hair, and a pair of black eyes that snap awfully when anything is said about her late father. —An old, rough clergyman once took for his text that passage of the Psalms, “ I said in my haste all men are liars.” Looking up apparently as if he saw the psalmist standing before him, he said : *** You said it in your haste, David, did you ? Well, if you had been here, you might have said it after mature reflec tion.” A poet who writes with a metallic luster in a Texas paper, sings: “ There sat one day in splendor, A maiden young and fair; With beautiful soft blue eyes, And gold and silver hair. Now, this fair young maiden Had a mission to perform Upon this terrestal globe.” The maiden’s “mission” was specie payment. We know it by her hair— “ gold and silver.” —The little things which you may do for those about you will fall! back upon your heart as the summer dews fall up on the vineyards. What if it is nothing more than a kind word to a school-boy crying in the street; it dries his tears", and the aching heart grows glad again. Who knows what cloud of darkness one kind word may dispel. —Dr. Dio Lewis now tells “our girls” that if they want to learn to walk well they should “ walk an hour a day, with a weight—say a bag o:f beans— upon their heads.” A few days ago the doctor advised ladies to eat beans to improve their complexion. We begin to suspect that he belongs to a bean “ring,” and is trying to bull the bean market. —Joaquin Miller, in his “Life Among the Modocs,” says: “When I die I shall take this book in my hand, and hold it up in the day of judgment.” As the book in question has been univer sally damned already on both sides of the ocean, Joaquin had better try to part company with it on judgment day if be has any judgment himself. —The New York Tribune gallantly remarks: “ There are those who be lieve there is a providence which watches over drunkards, which sustains their tottering steps on slippery places, and which softens the paving stones for them when they fall. It would some times appear that a similar care has or dered that whenever an especially mean and selfish scamp is driven into mar riage, a woman of more than usually angelic character is provided for him. And the more the scamp is developed in him, the more the angel blooms forth in her.” Letter from General Ryan. The following letter has been received by Gen. Geo. W. Cook, an intimate friend of Gen. Ryan’s: BuußDEiiii Haul, Kingston. Jamai ca, Oct. 23,1873. —To mg dear George : In one hour we leave for Cuba. This is quite unexpected, as we didn’t expect to go until to-morrow, and I have just re turned from the country. We arrived on the 13th inst.; had a storm on the 7th ; all provisions washed overboard, and deck swept fore and aft. Capt. Harris and the purser were badly injured. The captain pronounced it the most se vere hnrricane he ever saw. For a few hours I thought we would all enjoy the novelty of a bath in mid-ocean. Since our arrival we have had a splen did time, feast after feast, ball after ball. The first ball was given in honor of Gen. Verona and myself. All the fashion and wealth of the place were pre sent. The governor general Condova and Judge Tichbum gave others, and gay ones they were. The place is filled with beautiful women and gay and splendid fellows, generous to a fault and liberal as princes. I must say that I never received such attention. I regret that want of time will prevent me giving you a detailed account of my adventures. I am fat as a bull and gay as a lark, and leave this place with many regrets. Very truly, etc. W. A. C. Ryan.