Newspaper Page Text
EAS'I-VUN times.
A Koal Live Country Paper.
rnU.ISHKP EVERY THURSDAY MORNING,
—33 Y—
XX. JS. BURTON.
terms of subscription j
One copy, one year ’
One copy, eix months 1.00
Tm copies, in club?, ouo voar, each 1.50
gj n . o copie* 5 cts
tiie soft guitar.
a DRAMATIC Fit VGMENT,
—Moonlight. Beneath the ladv’rf window
ai !•* aretb tho lover and singeth, with guitar accom
paniment.
* LOVER.
Open thy lattice, O lady br'ght!
pii <>arth lien calm in the fair moonlight;
0 n the glint of each glancing star,
Ami list to the notes of my soft guitar.
At the lady’s window a vision shone—
I was the lady’s head, with a night-cap on.
lover.
(In icstasy.)
g e o! at the casement appearing now,
With lily lingers she hides her brow.
O.i, wep not—though bitter thy sorrows are,
I will anothe them to rest with my soft guitar.
Then the lady answered : “ Who’s going to weep ?
0 i ’way with yonr fiddle, and let mo sleep.”
LOVER.
( Saddened, , but "till hopeful.)
Then sleep, dear lady : thy fringed lids close,
pinions of cherubs fan thy rtpose,
While through thy casement, slightly a.jar,
Steal the sweet notes of my soft guitar.
Then the lady her “ secret pain" confessed
With the plaintive murmur : “ Oh, give us a rest!’
I.OVFR.
(Slightly dieeouraged.)
Chide me not harshly, O lady fair !
Rend from thy lattice and hear my prayer.
Sighing for thee I wander afar,
Mournfully touching my soft guitar.
And the lady answered: “ You stupid thing,
If you’ve got the catarrh atop trying to sing I”
■ LOVER.
(Filial vnth natural and righteous indignation.)
Cruel but fair one, thy scorn restrain!
Better death’r quiet than thy disdain.
I go to fall in some distant war.
Bearing in t attle my loved guitar.
Answered the lady : “ Well, hurry and go !
I’m holding the slop-basin ready to throw.”
LOVER.
(Making immediate preparations to drpai t.)
False one, I leave thee ! When I’m at rest
Still shall my memory haunt thy breast;
A spectral vision thy joy shall mar—
A skeleton touching a soft guitar !
From the lady’s window her dulcet tones
On the night-wind floated : “ Go it, Old Hones J”
Then the lover, in agony, roamed afar—
Fell limp in the gutter and smashed his guitar.
A CALIFORNIA IDYL.
Tho declining sun was casting his rays
over “ Poor Man’s Gulch,” situated at
the foot of the Sierra Nevada, near
where tho town of Mariposa now stands,
at the close of one fine day (dry season)
in the year of onr Lord 1854.
As wo said before, the sun was cast
ing his over the Gulch up the tow
ering heights of the hills, bringing out
the rich green of the waving pines, and
lighting up the faces of a group of men
who stood watching an advancing figure.
The aforesaid tiguro t lowly plodded its
way along, followed by a very discour
aged looking mule, bearing upon its
back the simple outfit of a prospecting
miaer.
There was a look of discontent upon
the faces of the reception committee,
and they even eyed the stranger with
suspic on. The fact was, such a num
ber of strangers had come to their camp
claiming hospitality, who Lad boon
weighed iu the balance and found want
ing, that they were decidedly averse to
extending the right hand of fellowship
to a subject unless he proved to be of
the right stripe.
All doubts were speedily dispelled as
the stranger’s honest face came in view,
and when Sim Oarlock, the spokesman
of the party, stepped forward and grasp
ed his hand, he received a hearty wel
come.
The new comer was not allowed to
say a word until he had partaken of a
hearty supper, his long-eared compan
ion in tho menntimo being well taken
care of.
The sun, with the promptitude so pe
culiar to that part of the country, had
gone down with a “plump,” very much
resembling the extinguishment of a can
dle by means of the application of a
linger and thumb. After supper found
the strauger seated in the midst of a
party who had assembled to make his
acquaintance, pipe in hand, and his face
wearing a calm, contented air which
seemed to say : “ Yere I am ; yere I am
amongst good friends, and yere I’m go
in’ to stay.”
An awkward silence succeeded the
ceremony of introduction, as, according
to the then prevailing etiquette, it was
due to the new-comer to have the first
say.
The silence was broken by a laconic
remark from the stranger to the effect
that his name was Hiram Tucker. Thus
encouraged, the party soon got from
him his simple story, which amounted
to this:
He was a bachelor, and hailed from
an Eastern state. At the breaking out
of the gold fever ho took it irto his
head that to carry a cargo of Yankee
notions around the Horn would be a
good speculation. He arrived at Han
Francisco in good order, sold his cargo,
and lost his crew, who deserted as soon
as the ship cast anchor. There he was
in a strange land, with plenty of money
in his pocket and no means of returning
home. Accepting the situation iu a
graceful way peculiur to himself, and
having no family tics, he decided to cast
his lot in the golden laud, hoping some
day to bocomo a useful citizen. What
" ith the high rates of living and the
- lining-table Uncle Tucker—for so they
Fibbed him—speedily became a poor
inau. becoming conscious that he must
I nw work for a living, he scraped up
mgh trom his shattered fortunes to
11 iide himself with an outfit, and be
grubbing in the earth and inspect
ing the rocks in search of that which
instituted the chief m of man at
l ’ particular time and place. His
1 ntement included a long list of disap
)(intments, lucky finds, and wander
ngs, which would tire the reader’s
j-itience 8 | 10,, 1d we enumerate them in
Ii Nuflice it to say that Uncle
, lU ( ' r lUe f with the same good fortune
s mue-tenths of his compatriots. He
, mo l r i e i than once made up his
..... “ tew strike west, an’ go
>rmi i rP an ’” as * ie heard a man
1 j live lor almost nothing there;
\ e wa8 > au d <3*7, at Poor
m Gulch, and if the boys would
JL i a . t i l . an(l ho would set un a shanty
■hit settle down. *
S he boys certainty would lend a hand,
Hnii, ! V er cor dia.lly shaking hands they
m l* Uncle Tucker good night.
(^a y. work of erecting
K t ‘ \ habitation began iu good earn-
Bnlmv 7 \ nght a neat > substantial log
i,(7 stood ready for occupancy.
t ttle I I P eD ” said Uncle Tucker that
* , as the festivities came to a close,’
Two Dollars Per Annum,
VOLUME if.
I name this ‘ Hotel Independence,
ilic latch string is alius out, an’ ef the
1 oor ls 6ver barred may a i uthqueck
come an shake ev’ry peg out ot the
•lints, and leave no timber on another.
Ev ry brother is welcome ter come an’
go when he pleases, an’ the thanks of
l ncle Tucker tew all. A stranger come
among ye and ye took ’im in. My
tHanks agin, gentlemen, an’good night.”
he added hastily, as he turned and
closed the door.
The face of every man wore a pleased
expression. The satisfaction of doing
a good turn for the honest-hearted,
kindly old man was ample compensa
tion lor lost time —not counting in the
look of gratitude he gave them as he
retired from view. Uncle Tucker lo
cated a claim, had his declaration filed,
and manfully went to work. His first
assay was encouraging ; being reportod
as equal to ten dollars a ton, which
Uncle Tucker said was the best he had
done in a dog’s age, and he could afford
to pat himself on the back for it.
It was a right cheerful sight to see
the old man grubbing away in tho warm
sunlight—his bald head glistening with
the highest polish, and the clods of
moist earth flying in showers behind
him. He looked so happy that those
about him would sometimes rest on
their picks to gaze on him, and when
he looked up they would fall to work
again. The women and children loved
Uncle Tucker, and Sunday afternoons
the old man would take a party of little
ones, and they would go away upon the
hills and gather huge bunches of deli
cious grapes, which had been planted
by tho Franciscan monks a century ago.
Uncle Tucker had been nearly a year
at Poor Man’s Gulch when another
stranger arnv and. Not that it was unusual
for strangers to arrive—and go, too, for
that matter—but this was a stranger of
importance. It was this way. Uncle
Tucker was working in his claim one
day when his eyes caught a youthful
figure coming toward him. The figure
seemed to be that of a boy of about
fourteen years of age. He had a fresh,
clear complexion, a fine, dark eye,
and black hair, which fell in curls
upon his shoulders. In his hand he
carried a small black bag, and he had
the appearance of having traveled from
a distance. He walked straight up to
the old man, who regarded him in per
plexity. He whispered to the miner,
who dropped his pick, stared at him a
moment in speechless surprise, and then
clasped him in his arms. “Come all
the way from Down Yeast tew see his
old uncle! Come yere, boys, come
yere !” The boys “came,” and Uncle
Tucker addressed them thus :
“ Yere’s me, boys—Hiram Tucker!
Au’ yere’s my nevvy, Joseph Tucker,
comeall the way from Down Yeast tew
see his old uncle !” And once more the
delighted old man embraced his new
found nephew.
“Not another stroke tew-day, Joe,”
said 110, shouldering his fcoolo and taking
the boy by the hand. “C me tew Ho
tel Independence an’ tell us all about
it !” And they moved off followed by
such exclamations as “Fine boy!”
“Good luck, ole hoss !” “ Sarves ye
right !” etc.
Arriving at Ilotel Independence, it
was found full of children who were
told by Uncle Tucker to run home and
tell mammy that he had got anew
nephew. The tired boy was laid upon
the rude bed, and then he told his story.
What he said we know not, for it was
not intended for the general ear; we
only know that it was attended with
some tears and a great many consola
tory remarks from Uncle Tucker.
Young Joe speedily became a favorite
in Poor Man’s Gulch. His quiet, unas
suming ways and cheerful disposition
won him many friends. He had a way,
too, of brightening up the rough cabin,
putting bunches of wild Hovers here
and there, and making various useful
ornaments. Games with cards were grad
ually abolished in Hotel Independence,
and instead Joe read to the guests from
books which his uncle sent to “ Frisco”
for. Then sometimes they would joke
Joo about his mustache, which was yet
to come, at which Joe would bhish and
laugh, though at his own expense.
Two years passed away, and then a
young lady residing in the Gulch took
it into her head to fall in love with Joe.
A change came over Uncle Tucker from
the time of the discovery of this pas
sion. He did not lose any of his good
traits—he was the same good-hearted
old man, but he was more silent. Some
said things didn’t pan out as they
should ; but that could not be the rea
son, as he was getting along very well.
Something weighed heavily on his mind,
at all even s ; and Joe seemed to be in
the same frame of mind as his uncle.
This was a source of distress to their
friends, as they would confide in no
one, and so could not be advised.
Among the lower classes at the gulch
was a Mexican half-breed by the name
of Pedro, but called “Lobos” on ac
count of his evil disposition. It had
often been proposed to drive him and
his companions from the camp, but
through the wishes of Uncle Tucker
they were permitted to remain. Better
had his kindinterference been unheeded,
for the objects of his good offices did
very little but sit ia the sun and p'ay
with their curious-looking, greasy cards.
One evening Uncle Tucker was return
ing from his work when he met Joe at
the door, pale as death and all in a
tremble. “My boy! my boy! What
is the matter?” cried the astonished old
man.
“Nothing, uncle; nothing of conse
quence,” returned Joe.
“But ther is, my son ; yer pale and
tremblin’. Tell ole uncle.”
Pedro went in and frightened him,”
squeaked a youngster, stundiDg by.
“ Was he insultin’ tew my boy !” de
manded Uncle Tucker, throwing his
tools to the ground.
Joe did not answer, and the now an
gry man strode rapidly towards the
back shed. From there he procured a
heavy black-SDake whip, and started
down the gulch. He presently came
upon Pedro, lounging along, but who
saw him in time to lay his hand upon a
revolver, which was instantly wrenched
from him by the stalwart old miner.
The blows from the black-snake rained
fast and heavy upon the writhing vic
tim ; do what he could he could not
break from that iron gi asp, and he was
only released when the arm that wielded
the whip was thoroughly tired out.
“Ther,” said Uncle Tucker, throwing
EASTMAN, DODGE CO., GEORGIA THURSDAY, APRIL 18, 1374.
him from him, “ come an’ insult my
boy agin, will ye ? Ye yellow-bellied
scoundrel ! What’s that ? Malidito ?
Ye will, hey ? Scoot now, git!” And
the half-breed moved off muttering.
“Some men mought er blowed his
head off for less; but thet’s agin my
principles,” said Uncle Tucker to the
assemblage, who were so taken aback at
seeing him in a rage that no one lifted
a hand to help him.
“My boy,” said the old man tliat
night just before retiring, “we’ve got
tew leave. We’ll go Yeast or strike fur
some other diggin’s on the Nevada side.
It’s hard tew leave ole friends, but we
got tew go, sonny.”
“How would japan do, uncle?”
“ Jaypan won’t do, sonny. I under
stan’ ther very much opposed tew furi
nert en thet kentry.”
“Uncle,” said Joe, laying his hand
affectionately on the old man’s head,
“you are unhappy on my account. I
know you are, and rather than put you
out, joe will go back home—at least
not home—but I will go away.”
“ My child,” said Uncle Tucker, lay
ing h hand on Joe’s arm, “ don’t ye
ever speak thet way agin tew yer ole
uncle. In luck or out o’ luck, we’re
pardners. Wliat’s mine is yourn, an’
what’s yourn is yourn. Favorite sister
o’ mine’s child, Joe ; an’ yer ole uncle
loves ye as he does the apple of his eye.
No, no ; we’ll light out an’ go whar no
one knows us, au’ start in different.
You shell go to school, Joe, an’ yer ole
uncle’ll see ye git a good education.
Thet’s settled, my child. Good night.”
And drawing the curtain that separated
his bed from the main room, ho turned
in.
The next morning Uncle Tucker was
off bright and early to his claim ; his
face wore a happier look than it had
worn for months. He had no appre
hensions of the half-breed, as he was a
cooly brave man, and he did not think
Pedro would molest the boy after the
lesson he had received. It was his in
tention to sell out his claim, bid his
friends good-by, and locate somewhere
else.
“Jimmy,” said Uncle Tucker to a
r. d-shirted Hercules, who stood at his
sido, “ what’ll ye allow for the claim ? ”
“ Oh, sho-! Uncle Tucker,” replied
Jimmy, “ you don’t want to sell out.”
“ Don’t know 'bout that; what’ll ye
give ? ”
At this moment a boy ran up calling
to the old man.
“ Yere’s me ! ” said he, turning to the
boy with his old smile.
“ Uncle Tucker, come up to the hotel,
quick ! Somepins happen.”
“What is it, sonny? Fer God’s
sake tell me ! Is it Joe ? ”
“Don’t know, Uncle Tucker,” re
plied the boy ; “ all I know is, we heerd
a n’ise in the shanty, an’ the nex’ thing
someone went by on the mule, makin’
big time.”
Uncle Tucker waited to hear no more,
bnt run nn fnr Lin liotioa T l koo ir.o
crowd at the door waiting for him. He
rushed in, and there, extended on the
bed, lay the lifeless form ©f his beloved
Joe ! There he lay covered with stab
wounds, and quite dead. With a heart
broken cry, the old miner tflrew him
self on his knees at the side of the bed.
“ speak to ole uncle, honey!” he
cried; “ speak, Joe, an’ tell who did
it!” But there was no reply from Joe.
“My child, my child ! Pedro !
S’arch him out an’ shoot him down 1”
thundered the enraged man.
Pedro ? Was it Pedro ? A man
stooped at the side of the bed and
picked up one of those curious-looking
cards, a mute witness of the terrible
deed, but bearing upon its face unmis
takable evidence as to the murderer.
Yes, it was Pedro. A dozen men im
mediately set out in pursuit of the
murderer.
The grief of the old man was painful
to witness. The room was cleared and
a consultation held outside as to what
had best be done. It was argued that
no one but the Mexican had been guilty
of the crime, and that if he was cap
tured he would be in safe hands. They
thought it would be well for a doctor to
examine the body and make a report to
a oommittee of citizens. A red-shirted
miner, who was the distriet physician,
pushed open the door and entered the
room. He announced his errand to
Uncle Tucker, and softly approached
the bed. He opened the boy’s jacket
and gently turned it back. He started
and stepped back, while a deep blush
dyed his face and neck, as if he had
been caught in some shameful act. He
turned to leave the room, when the old
man, who had been watching him,
clutched him nervously by the sleeve.
“ Not yit, not yit, doe,” he whis
pered. “To-morrow, an’ thin ye may.
Let the burryin’ take place this arter
noon. An’ will ye come an see to my
dear child ?”
The doctor said he would ; and wring
ing Uncle Tucker’s hand he passed out.
That afternoon a solemn procession
wended its way up the hills to a level
spot under the waving pines. A grave
I ad been dug, and the rude coffin was
gently lowered into it. Amid the
hushed sobs of the grief stricken man
the rough doctor read the burial ser
vice. Grief w r as depicted in every stern
face and every eye held a tear. As the
men stepped forward to fill the grave
the hardest character in the camp ad
vanced aud threw a pack of cards upon
the box which held the form of little
Joe. There was a rude eloquence in
the act, and one which spoke volumes
in behalf of the simple-hearted fellow,
who showed his devotion to the dead in
the best way he could. The grave was
filled up and a little mound raised over
it, which was covered with the pure
white syringa which grew all about in
profusion.
“ Tew-morrow, doc, an’ then ye
may,” faltered Uncle Tucker, as he stood
in liis door. “ Come in the mornin’ an’
I’ll tell ye why.” The light burned late in
Hotel Independence that night,and some
said Uncle Tucker was praying. Little
groups of men stood about, talking in
subdued whispers, when the sound of
horses’ hoofs were heard coming up the
road. It was the party who had gone
in pursuit of the murderer. A no I
from the leader showed that justice had
been dealt out to the fugitive, and ev
ery man breathed freely.
The next morning the doctor went to
Uncle Tucker’s door. He knocked, but
receiving no answer walked in. The
room was vacant, and the bed had not
been disturbed. Perplexed, the doc-
In God V'e 2rusl.
tor looked about him, when his eye
caught something white laying on the
table. It was a letter directed to him.
Opening it, he read :
The dauter uv a favrite sister uv mine, losiu
her mother an havin a crul father, runs awa
au corns too her ole unkel. She corns in this
yer camp as a boy, an fur ehaim to mi child
an feet uv makin talk i lets her sta so. She
wos thee darlin uv ole Tucker’s hart an the
Lord help Pidro if he gits site on himm. Mi
lilliuvthe wally was tooked from t>le unkel
afore he wos lite-out whur no wun node himm.
Ole Tucker's bed’s afire, doc. Mi affection too
thee boys and tel em mi stony and i will bee
fur awa. Good by. Josephine Tucker was
her naim. * Hiram Tucker.
The hand of the doctor trembled as
he read this simple epistle ; old Unole
Tucker had gone from among them,
and his kindly old face would never be
seen again.
An hour later another lifeless form
lay in the Hotel Independence. Some
passers-by saw a figure stretched upon
the littia grave up in the pines, and go
ing to it found it to be Uncle Tucker,
with his arms clasped about the mound
and his soul far axvay. They brought
him back and laid him on the rude bed,
with the bright sun shining in and play
ing upon his lifeless features, which
wore the smile of old.
“ What’s doc say, Jim ?” said a by
stander.
“He sez a stroke of aperplexy
knocked him under,” was the answer.
“Well, aperplexy some call it, re
plied the other, but I say he died of a
broken-heart.”
. WINE AND WHISKY.
ProTtrbs and Extracts for the Times •♦hat
Try Women’s Souls.
WINE PROVERBS.
1. In vino veritas.
2. A heart for wine is a heart for
kindness.
3. A real wine drinker laughs with
his eyes.
4. Beware of the wine vault, facilis
descensus Averni.
5. Burgundy smiles, hock winks,
champagne laughs.
6 Port for the people, claret for the
gentry, bui gundy for princes.
7. Good wine should drink smooth
like liquified velvet.
8. Love stole its purple light from
the wine cup.
9. Cupid and champagne exchange
many a glance.
10. Of wine and love the first taste is
best; no second sip equals it.
11. The bottle is of the aristocracy;
treat it like a gentleman.
12. The Caliban of wine is port, the
Ariel champagne.
13. The bottle is the most voluptuous
of assassins.
14. The religion of wine is catholic.
15. Value wine like women—for ma
turity not age.
16. Whisper no gallantries at the ta
ble till the champagne has gone round.
17- Wine wit,is f lio soul’s roinV.
18. Wme and youth are fire upon
fire.
19. Good wine is milk for the ages.
20. Wine is a turn-coat, first a friend,
then an enemy.
21. When the wine is in the wit is
out.
22. Wine of the second bottle is a
bad story-teller.
23. The drunkard’s fault is not the
wine’s, but his own. *
24. Your stomach is your wine cellar;
keep the stock small and good.
ALCOHOLIC EXTRACTS.
“ The function of alcohol is to dimin
ish the necessary function of living.”—
John Fiske.
“ Alcohol enables us to destroy the
laws of nature without suffering imme
diate and speedy destruction.” — Parton.
“ Alcohol is the monarch of liquids.
America was subjugated by alcohol as
by gun-powder.”— Savarin.
“This thirst for a liquid which nature
has wrapped in mystery, this extraordi
nary desire, traceable in every race of
man, in every “clime, under every tem
pera ure, is well worth the attention o
tbe philosphical observer.” — Savarin.
“Can we imagine a beverage com
pounded of such ingredients as nux
vomica, henbane, opium, arsenic, sul
phuric acid, oil of turpentine, sugar of
lead, tannin, aloes, and quassia, without
an involuntary shudder ?”— Hartley.
“ A flattering devil, a sweet poison,
a pleasant sin, which whosoever doth
commit committeth not a single sin but
becometh centre and slave of all man
ner of sin.”— St. Augustine.
“ The creator in constructing the hu
man body made it perfect. Alcohol is
foreign to the body.”— Carpenter.
“ Milk for women, wme for men,
brandy for heroes.” — Anon.
“Alcohol is a mental machine ; it en
ables us fo translate force into time. It
is a time-saving machine.” — Medical
Times.
“Alcohol is destroying more souls
than all the ministers in Great Britain
are instrumental in saving.”— Washing
ton Chronicle.
“Wine fills the hearts of men with
kindly feeling toward each other, ren
ders them sympathetic, makes them
talkative, and induces them to confide
their joys and sorrows to each other.”—
Plutarch.
“Men are much better acquainted
with each other while drinking than at
other times.” — Plato.
“In vino veritas —there is truth in
wine. It was the saying of all anti
quity that deep drinkers are great think
ers, and that -wine induces us to speak
the truth.”
“ Intemperance springs trom the de
pravity of the human heart, and can
only be cured by having anew heart.”
Dr. Smith.
“ Alcoholism as a disease is dying
out. The question used to be between
much alcohol and a little. The ques
tion now is between very little and none
at all.”— Lancet.
“I Have pondered over it as others
have done, and I am inclined to place
the desire for fermented liquors side by
side with the desire for immortality, for
both are unknown to the brute creation,
and I regard them as ands inctive features
of the masterpiece of the last sublu
nary revolution.”— Savarin.
—What could more effectively appeal
to one’s pocket linen than to receive an
invitation to a masquerade party on
heavy mourning paper. A Pennsylva
nia widow sent out hers in this way be
fore the late lamented had been inurned
a week.
FROM WASHINGTON.
Lake Casualties - Reports ot Commit
tees, etc.
The committee on war claims have
agreed to report and allow the Patten
claims. They amount to between six
aud seven hundred thousand dollars.
The house has set the 21st of April
for the previous question on the various
propositions rt latiug to improving the
mouth of the Mississippi river. One of
these is Capt. Eade’s jetty plan; the
other, a canal from Fort St. Phillip to
Breton Isle, which is recommended by
the engineer bureau.
The treasury department has prepared
as complete a list as possible of casual
ties on tho great lakes of this country
within tho last ten years, from which it
appears that in that period the number
of vessels lost was 4.527, the loss of life
amounted to 7,341 persons, and the loss
of property aggregated $57,370,062.
# The case of South Carolina was con
sidered by the judiciary committee of
the house, who appointed a sub-com
mittee, consisting of Tremaine, El
dridge, and White, to hear both sides.
The point now aimed at is to induce the
judiciary committee to recommend an
investigating committee, so that con
gress may become officially cognizant of
the condition of South Carolina. This
is considered an indispensable prelimi
nary to congressional action.
Mr. Ramsey, from the committee on
postoffices and post-roads, has reported
a bill to provide for the transmission of
correspondence by telegraph. Placed
on the calendar. The bill is the Hub
bard postal telegraph bill, unchanged,
except in matters of detail. It pro
poses to incorporate Gardner C. Hub
bard and hi’s associates as a postal tele
graph company on condition that it
shall contract with the postmaster-gen
eral for the transmission of correspond
ence by telegraph at rates and in ac
cordance with provisions elaborately
prescribed in the bill heretofore pub
lished in all its essential features.
Among the reports presented in the
house, last week, was one very impor
tant one from the committee on war
claims—the case of Jno. T. McClean, of
Jackson, Miss.—a claim of near one
million dollars, for the value of cotton
and mills destroyed during the war of
the rebellion by order of Gen. Grant,
and for cotton bonds and confederate
money taken from the bank in Jackson.
Mr. Lawrence, chairman of the com
mittee, reported adversely on the ground
that the property was destroyed as be
ing an element of strength to the rebel
lion, and that consequently the govern
ment is not bound to compensate the
owners. The bill was laid on the table.
The senate committee on public
lands have heard a delegation of three
Mennonites from Pennsylvania and two
from Russia who asked that legislative
arrangements be made for the settle
'lining mTOMfiIU
obliged to emigrate from that country
prior to the year 18:1, or else perform
military service which the tenets of
their religion forbid. The committee
authorized Senator Windom to prepare
and report to the senate a bill author
izing the secretary of the interior to
withdraw from public sales such large
tracts of land as they desire to occupy
within the next two years by homestead
or pre-emption entry.
Your Artless Woman.
There is a certain style of woman who
affects the most innocent simplicity on
questions to which every one past first
childhood can give an answer; whose
cue is naive ignorance, whose charm is
her unenlightenment, yet who can use
her very ignorance as a trenchant weap
on enough when she is in the humor.
She has the prettiest way possible of
putting you in the wrong, and contra
dicts you with the least shading and
most directness of any woman you can
meet.
Sometimes she merely makes you ap
pear pedantic or obscure. The tone in
which she says, “Oh! you are too
clever for poor little me to talk to ; and
I dare sav you are right, but then I am
such a little goose I do not understand
you,” is quite sufficient to annihilate
you for the evening, if you chance to
be of those unlucky ones who are sen
sitive av to the impression they make.
She, so simple, so untutored, the child
orf nature, makes it plain to you that
you have gone on a wrong road when
you have spoken to her as to a reasona
ble decent education, and have assumed
that she possesses a mind and some de
gree of instruction. She is all heart;
if you like, she can expatiate on her
dear dog, or that darling boat race ; but
she cannot let you think that she has
ever used the eyes of her mind, or seen
anything deeper than the self-evident
superficialities|of life.
If you talk to her on any subject be
yond the current trivialities of the day,
she lifts up her eyebrows aud Fays,
“How odd!” And the next person to
whom she speaks hears that you are
such an extraordinary person, and have
such funny ideas ! Or she may ring
the ehauges by saying that you are so
dreadfully learned she cannot under
stand you—and fancy speaking of such
dry subjects as the sun, or the state of
Spain, or the different physiognomies
of a crowd, to poor, silly, little her !
All she wants to talk about is the
opera, or the fashions, or the latest
scandal, whatever it may be ; or, fail
ing a scandal, the latest amusements ;
and anything to make her think and use
her brain, though in the mildest way,
ruffles her serenity and transforms you
into a bore of the first magnitude.
Oysters Growing on Trees.
C. H. Williams, a Fellow of the
Geographical Society, of England, tells
us, in the Hartford Times, how oysters
inhabit the mangrove woods in Cuba.
“For several years,” he says, “1 re
sided in that island, and traveled there
more than the ordinary run of foreign
ers, and have several times come across
scenes which many people would con
sider great curiosities—one in particu
lar. No doubt the reader will open his
eyes at oysters growing on trees. Often
have I seen the sneer of unbelief on the
face of the ignorant when the fact had
been mentioned ; but grow they do,
arid in immense quantities, especial y
in the southern part of the island. I
have seen miles of trees, the lower
stems and branches of which were lit
Payable in Advance.
NUMBER 1-2.
| erally covered with them, and many a
good meal have I enjoyed with very
little trouble of procuring, and not
quite so expensive as they are in Lon
don at the present time. I simply
placed the branches over the fire, and,
when opened, I picked them out with a
fork or pointed stick. These peculiar
shell-fish are indigenous in lagoons aud
swamp-! on the coast, and as far as the
tide will rise and the spray fly, so will
they cling to the lower parts of the
mangrove trees sometimes four or five
deep, the mangrove being one of the
very few trees that flourish in salt
water. ”
The Strappado.
In his admirable work on the middle
ages, M. Paul Lacroix mentions several
modes of execution, the cruelty of which
makes us shudder. The condemned
were subjected to unheard-of tortures,
depending upon the caprice of t> e mag
istrates and the executioners. For ex
ample, they placed boiling hot eggs
under their victims’ arms, attaehed
burning wax-candles to their hands, ran
thorns and sharp fish-bones into the
flesh, etc.
One can easily comprehend, in the
presence of such refined cruelty, that
hanging should sometimes be consid
ered a veritable favor. It was a real
mercy, in fact, to be put to death quick
ly, without first being compelled to suf
fer the tortures invented by the dis
eased imaginations of the official butch
ers. This explains, in a measure at
least, an engraving of 1490, which re
presents a hanging accompanied by mu
sic. A murderer, sentenced to die by
the cord, obtained permission, it would
seem, to be accompanied to the place
of execution by one of his friends, who
played the bag-pipe, not only on the
way thither, but even on the gallows
itself. The condemned man expiated
his crime, therefore, to the joyous
sounds of his favorite instrument,
thanking hie stars, no doubt, that he
got off so cheaply.
Indeed, he might have been con
demned, in common with so many
others, to be put to death by some of
the barbarous modes of execution then
practised—the strappado, for example,
which was one of the more revolting.
The accused, half nude, had his Lauds
tied behind him with a small cord,
which two men, one at each end, drew
as tightly as their strength would admit.
Another and somewhat larger cord was
ti and under the victim’s arm, while the
other end was passed up over a grooved
wheel and then down to a windlass.
At the foot of the subject a weight of
two hundred and fifty pounds was at
tached.
At his command, the magistrate’s aids
turned the windlass, raising the victim
up to the ceiling of the room, then they
let him fall, a foot or so at a time, until
he reached the floor. Fn/ih .tl.cuiifc,
the arm, of course, added to the
wretch’s agony.
This terrible torture was practised
for a long time at Orleans, France.
What made it still more horrible than
it perhaps otherwise would have been
was the fact that, not only those who
had been tried and found guilty, but
the accused also, were subjected to it.
It was called the question extraordi
naire. Singular mode of interrogating
people, certainly ! It was the duty of
the magistrate, before whom the case
had been brought, to be present at the
savage ceremony, and listen to the con
fession the unfortunate, innocent or
guilty, was compelled to make. When
the clerk had taken every thing down,
the accused, more dead than alive, was
unbound. The prelude was now ter
minated, and it only remained, if the
subject was already condemned, to end
his agony, which was usually done by
decapitation; but, as we have inti
mated, the condition of the subject, af
ter having been subjected to the tor
tures of the strappado, was such that
death was a boon.
The physical suffering we have de
scribed was not always the only suffer
ing the accused was compelled to en
dure. In a manual for the use of the
magistrates of those times, written by
one Damboudere, they are strongly ad
vised, when the torture is to be applied
to several persons, to begin -with those
who are most lively to confess. If a
father and son, for example, were to be
subjected to the torture, the manual
recommends the torturing of the son
first; for, says the writer, “ the father
will feel for the son more keenly than
for himself.”
The Hidden Torture.
There is nothing so remarkable in
man as his power of concealing mental
torture. What is unsaid is ever nearest
and greatest. Tha soul is beset by
some hideous remorse—consuming care
—warnings of disease—fear of death
rejected love—vile pecuniary distress—
or the anguish of anticipated shame.
The dark thing is not merely in the
background ; its presence never with
drawn, its grasp never wholly relaxed, it
occupies the citadel of thoughts and
is but eutlying and unconsidered pre
cincts. Meanwhile, the man plays his
part in society as other men do ; is
polite, gay, affable ; and, if he is really
a strong and able person, is as much
like his ordinary self, himself before
this dark thing had any hold upon him,
as it is possible to be.
How Fast We Ride.
The laziest of us are going at a tre
mendous rate, whether we will or not.
The earth is going round the sun at the
rate of 36,000 miles an hour, or eleven
hundred times faster than the fastest
express moves. The earth revolves on
its axis at a very high speed, propor
tioned to the distance of its surface
from the axi3. At the equator it is 1,-
040 miles an hour, or seven a minute ;
at Rekiawits, a polar town, it is seven
and a half miles a minute ; at the poles
it is nil. The earth has several other
movements, one of the less exactly
measured being that through space in
common with the whole solar system,
which is estimated at 487,000 miles per
day.
—One hundred and twenty newspa
pers and periodicals have beon sup
pressed in France since MacMahon be
came president.
EASTMAN TIMES.
RATES OF ADVERTISING J
space. Im. 3m. (m. 12 m,
One square **oo*7oos 10 00 $ IS 00
Two squares 625 12 00 18 00 25 00
Four squares 9 7.i 19 00 2*l on so m
One-fourth col 11 60 22 50t ,34 < x > A ()0
One-half col 20 00 82 Boj 66 00 so 00
One column 05 OOj 60 00! 80 Col 130 00
Advertisements inserted at the rate of $1.50 per
square for the first insertion, and 75 cents for each
subsequent one. Ten lines cr less constitute a
square.
Professional cards, $15.00 ppr annum; for Bix
months, SIO.OO, in advance.
FACTS AND FANCIES.
—“ Good Man Gone to Roost,” was
the headline in a western paper’s obitu
ary.
—The steamer Economy struok a snag
in Arkansas river and sunk. Loss,
$3,000.
—Next to the sweetness of having a
friend whom you can trust is the con
venience of possessing a friend who will
occasionally trust you.
—Even with an octagonal watch, un"
less a man has a mouse-colored horse
and a top buggy, he can only skirmish
on the outskirts of good society.
—Siam is an ungallant country.
There the first wife may be divorced,
and after that every wife may be sold
for cash, or traded for a yellow dog.
.. —According to the report of Gen.
Myers, of the signal service, there was a
greater quantity of rain fell at Nash
ville, during last month, than at any
other point in the United States.
—"When a Tennessee father walks in
to a newspaper office with a shot-gun on
his arm and says : “My darter has writ
some poetry .which I want you to pub
lish,” how’s a feller going to plead
press of matter ?
—Laborers in Japan have had their
wages raised to 7 } cents a day. With
such wages the laborer may take a drink
and a cigar once or twiee a week, but he
must dispense with such superfluities as
bread and meat.
—Kate Field says of Isabella 11. of
Spam, that scion of the old Bourbon
race, that “she is a great, stout, ungain
ly female, who needs but a dozen chil
dren and a be a counterfeit
presentment of the typical Biddy.”
—What can a man think cf his wife’s
relations who is so savage about his own
as to write: “ I don’t like relations;
you are obliged to be familiar with a
man just because he happens to be son
of the same father as your father.”
—Senator Sumner has gone where
proof-readers are not known. His friends
congratulate themselves that he did not
see the issue of the Cave Echo, which
punctuated his last words, “Take care
of my civil rights, Bill.”
—The Scientific American predicts
that the time will soon come when ice
will be manufactured in all our great
cities at a dollar a ton. Manufactured
ice at three dollars a ton has for some
time been in the markets of New Or
leans.
—Bury me in the garden has been al
tered to read:
Oli! bury Bartholomew out in the woods,
In a beautiful bole m the ground,
Wlierotlie bumble bees buzz and woodpeckers
sing.
And the straddle bugs tumble arund;
So that, in winter, when the snow and the
slush
Incl’"a^nrfeVa"ce : wiVhiil^^ir' 1
A Massachusetts man living at Sha
ron, in that state, has just chopped his
own head off by the aid of a guillotine
ingeniously made and worked by liis
own hands. The ingenuity of the in
dustrious New Englander is constantly
placing his countrymen under lasting
obligations to him.
—A writer in Scribner for April
speaks of the mode of address adopted
by the African. “Boss” is a general
term, probably containing the oxide of
civility; “mas’r” conveys a general
idea of superiority. If the old man
knows your face, and you are young, he
calls you “captain;” if middle-aged,
“major ;” if old, “general” or “judge.”
—A Nebraska, journal invitingly says:
“Who says farmers cannot get rich in
this state*? Fifteen years ago a young
man came to the state without a dollar
in the world. Last week he went out of
the state, carrying "with him the sum of
one hundred aud thirty-eight cents, the
savings of fifteen years of frugal
Gome west, young man; come west!”
—A Corning (la.) youth paid his at
tentions to two young ladies and propos
ed marriage to both. They found out
about it, invited him to the hyuse of one
of them and asked him to take a seat be
tween them, which he did, sitting down
in a tub of water over which a covering
had been nicely spread. r i hen they po
litely renuested him not to be in a hur
ry to go, but he went.
—During the progress of a trial in
Judge May’s court, in San Jose, one of
the female witnesses was asked this
question by one of the attorneys : “Did
the defendant call his wife ‘ my dear,’
when he met her ? ” * This took the wit
ness by surprise, but she answered him
in a manner that showed she was honest
and sincere in her belief. “ Did he call
her ‘my dear ?’ Of course not. How
could he when she is his wife ? ’
—A Greenfield farmer dropped into a
drug store Saturday, and after looking
around for a moment ordered a pint of
linseed oil and two ounces of pepper
mint essence put up together. The
clerk filled the order, but being rather
curious to know what was wanted of
the mixture he made bold to inquire.
“Why, for ha’r ile, of course,” replied
the farmer; “the gals is invited to a
party Tuesday night, and they want to
ile up and smell nice.”
—An old bachelor has been deterred
from committing matrimony in the fol
lowing way: Thinking over the subject,
and particularlyjjtlie expenses of main
taining a family, he set the table in his
lonely abode with plates for himself and
an' imaginary wife and five children.
He then sat down to dine, and as often as
he helped himself to food he put the
same quantity on each of the other
plates, and surveyed the prospect, at
the same time computing the cost. He
is still a bachelor.
—There is an old darkey in Maryland
who lately voted for local option, as he
understood it, bnt not as the public
generally understood it. The story (a
true one) runs thus : At a elec
tion a friend asked the old man how he
was going to vote. “Oh,” he replied,
“the republican ticket. I always vote
that ticket.” “But how are you going
to vote on local option?” The darkey,
looking up, asked, “What’s dat?”
“W T hy, local option is putting down
liquor,” was the reply, “Lorsa mas
sey !” said the darkey, “of course I vote
for local option ; I votes to put down
liqiror to the old price, fib-penny-bit a
pint.”