Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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.”