Newspaper Page Text
E A STM A N TIMES.
A. Ronl Live Country Paper.
rnULTHHEP EVERY THURSDAY MORNING
-HY
n. s. buht on.
TKIOIS OF SUIISCniI*TION i
One copy, one year 82.&0
One cogy, nix months , 1.00
'Jen repiiH, m dubs, one year, e&ch 1.50
Hinl cepiee 6 eta
THE TWO SONGS.
'When love was younir, at liriy’htening morn,
Wilile I;ivT*l alxive i lie yellow eoril,
The glad lar k shrilled, to her whose eyes
Seemed homes of . adiant eesiacies
1 sjimk. The of the time
Rang through tlie notes and rulivl therliytne.
The rapture of the uoktoeil rose,
When Imd-hound petals first unclose.
Spake from my lips, afire from those
Whose sWHctness Mirillrd fnv spirit through,
And the song’s Jubilant music'knew
Joy’s impulse in cat h sivj *-|njg strain,
l.aeli eadenQQ low, each ghul refrain.
1 l unU“*. Those ryes looked praise, and yet
s >me shade of fear or faint regret,
lake a thin cloud o’er sunlit stream,
Hovered a moment and was gone.
Ah ! is it that dawn's daring dream
Each soul must shape alone?
Sweet the eares that guerdon gave
For that glad song! can shadows start
Beneat h joy’s sun, or passion crave
et eloser t lasp than heart to heart ?
* -<.■* ..oho-;, (te- ntgtif-nmr.s iriii
‘'hook softlier than a far-heard lute
From that gray cops * beneath the hill,
A nd then was mtPe !
Her head clasped close ahov 1 mv heart,
1 sang—for that the words would tart °
I'rom laden Ups—a song as low
As spring’s first streamlet’s timid flow;
Low, yet as happy as the tears
\\ hich fall unchecked from shining eyes,
When hope, outlasting sundering yrars,’
Attains its paradise.
Whispers of trees, when storms have (led,
Rear such sweet burden; odors shed
By rain-washed roses through the night
Breathe such serene and sure delight
As this my song. I might not see
Her eyes in that leal-eumhered place,
But elosecr drew her tender face,
Ami pressed her heart to me.
And throng!) the sih nee and the dark;
There eamo a gladness that the lark
Hath not a song lor. Eove that lives
Through sorrow such deliverance gives
I roc.i fear, its shadow may not start
In chill tin* clasp of heart to heart.
POPULAR SCIENCE.
’hits iinil Tlicii- Young—Koine Facts Yol
.euei:i 11;. Si noil t).
Tht* October number of the Popular
Science Monthly eontiiins nn article hv
ITul. Hurt G. Wilder entitled “hats and
their young.” Beginning his essay by
remarking that till parts of the world ex
cepting the colder regions are inlmhited
by hats; that there are many kinds of
hiits; that they often occur in very large
numbers, and that there are very few
persons, young or old, who have not seen
a hat, the writer adds: “ Yet, aside from
professed naturalists, it is equally prob
able that there sire still fewer who, from
direct observation, could give any accu
rate description of their appearance, their
habits, their structure of their relations
with the ‘birds of the air ’ or the‘beasts
of the earth,’ to both of which lints bear
more or less resemblance.” Prof. Wilder
thinks that this is not strange, “ for hats
pass the day in eaves and deserted build
ings, and fly about in pursuit of prey
only in the twilight. Much less rapid
than that of birds, their tlight is so irre
gular as to render it difficult to follow
their course, and in the,dusk they are
often mistaken for somewhat eccentric
members of the swallow family.” The
sive; they often eniTTan unpleasant odor;
they breed vermin, which they often
leave behind them in houses; they bite
fiercely when they are captured,, having
sharp, “almost needle-like” cyc-teetln
Bats have rarely been domesticated, there
being on record only two instances of the
taming of hats. Prof. Wilder caught
one when he was a hoy, and he gives the
following account of his somewhat dis
agreeable pet:
“One of our common hiits (probably
either the ‘little brown hut,' ,] r espertHio
subulatus, or the ‘little red bat,’) flew
into the house one evening and was
caught under a hat. It queaked and
snapped its little jaws so viciously that
all efforts toward closer acquaintance
were posponed until morning.
“\\ lien uncovered the next day it
seemed as fierce as before, hut less active
in its movements, probably overpowered
by the glare of daylight. When touched
its jaws opened wide, the sharp teeth
were exposed, and from its little throat
came the sharp steely clicks so character
istic of our hiits. Nor did this fierce
demeanor soften in the least during the
day, and when night approached I was
about to let it go, hut the sight of a big
fly on the window suggested an attempt
to teed the captive. Held by the wings
between the points of a pair of forceps,
die fly had no sooner touched the hat’s
i'">e than it was seized, crunched and
swallowed. The rapidity of its disap
pearance accorded with the width to
which the eater’s jaws were opened to
receive it, and, but for the dismal crack
hug of >kin and wings, reminded one of
die sudden engulfment of beetles by a
hungry young robbin.
" A second fly went the same road.
Ihe third was more deliberately mastic
:tte<l, and I ventured to pat the de
yourer s head. Instantly all was changed.
I he jaws gaped as if they would separ
ate, the crushed fiv dropped from the
tongue, and the well-known clicks pro
‘'htimed a hatered and defiance which
hunger could not subdue nor food ap
pease. So at least it seemed, and I
j 'iiik any hut a boy naturalist would
yive yielded to the temptation to fling
’ ( u ‘ s pitofnl creature out of the window,
erhaps, too, a certain obstinacy made
'’"willing to so easily relinquish the
"'•"iy-formed hope of domesticating a
’ ' At any rate, another fly presented,
, " 1 ' • hike the former, dropped the mo-
| l| " ,u 1! I >* fingers touched the head of the
j y ;i third I waited until the
' at S(, ‘ "led to he actually swallowing,
‘ t,,M '"’"hie to either discontinue that pro
j' ur °pen its mouth to any extent.
, ■ rage and pexplexitv were comical
‘ '""old. and, when the "fly was really
own ( seemed to almost burst with the
t,Pt" express its indignation. But
o *. not prevent it from falling into
'* :;"■ lra P again; and, to make a long
y it finally learned by expe
1' "' Uuit while chewing and swallow
mor(> or less interrupted by
‘ I’i'oig at me, both operations were
1 itihle with my gentle stroking
-knd even a bat has brains
• t "-y the foolishness of loosing a
kin.j, ' t , to resent an unsolicited
■' 1 ' :I ".v> the hat would take
n - r eiv; although, either
light. it'! nR v * or h”cause blinded by the
its ef};. N Ripped me sharply in
‘Tts - t0 S * lze the victim.
For ’' ras ity was almost incredible,
fifty hoii S ( l .a* if devoured at least
and n, v ,)• i!1 a day (it was vacation,
once dis.K,;' *a UU e B l! . a ? to asHist me )> and
break ai, 1 '! between day
■l 111* \)nf Ii
h ' * or inoi than two
1 Woll 'd shuffle across the
Two Dollars Per Annum,
VOLUME 111.
table f entered the room, and lift
up its head for the expected fly. When
traveling it was carried in my breast
pocket.
“In the fall it died, either from over
eating or lack of exercise, for 1 dared not
let it out of doors, and it was so apt to
injure it- If in the rooms that 1 seldom
allowed it to fly.
“I should add that it drank frequently
and greedily from the tip of a camcl’s
hair pencil.
“It must he admitted,” the writer
says, “ that most bats are ‘uncanny’in
respect and unfriendly in disposition,
while the legends of blood-thirsty vam
pires* have only too much found n
fact. But it is only fair to them’ (the
hat family) to admit that the number of
specie# which thus injure men and the
Inne r animals is very small; and that
while all of our own bats, and most of
those of other lands, are fierce devourers
of insects, and use their sharp teeth for
defense against their captors, there are
many kinds, especially the larger (I’ous
settes, etc.), which live almost wholly
"pun fruits, and are moreover, quite
good eating themselves. So there should
lie made a distinction between the ven
omous and the harmless serpents and the
mm'e and the less poisonous spiders.
Perhaps one element of distrust of
the hat family arises.from their appar
ent nonconformity to either of the com
mon animal types. The bat seems to he
cither a bird with hair and teeth, bring
ing forth its young alive, or a mammal
with wings and the general aspect of a
bird. Add to these exceptional features
that their attitude, when at rest, is al
ways head downward, and that their legs
arc so turned outward as to bring the
knees behind instead of in front, and we
may almost pardon the common dislike
of the whole family of hats.
“We may as well state at once that a
hat is really a mammal—that is, it
agrees with moles, rats, sheep, horses,
<*ats, monkeys and men in bringing forth
its young alive, and nursing them by
milk; in having red blood-corpuscles,
which contain no nucleus; in being
clothed with hair, and in possessing a
corpus callosum —that is, a hand of fibres
connecting the two cerebral hemispheres.
‘‘There are other anatomical features
which link the bats closely with the
moles and shrews and hedge-hogs. In
deed, the hat might he described a flying
mole, or the mole us a burrowing hat.
“ Twenty years ago one of these phrases
might have been as acceptable as the
other ; for they would have implied only
an ideal connection between the forms.
But now, when the idea of an actual evo
lution or derivation of widely different
forms from one another, or from common
stocks, is rapidly becoming the funda
mental postulate of all biological re
search, we are hound to inquire whether
one mode of expression is not much more
likely to ]>e true than thy otlu’f-”
HUMAN SACRIFICES IN AFRICA.
A Custom UssK iin I.osj ff Prevailed and
all EfFort* la ASholimli it.
A correspondent of the London Times
gives the following vivid description of
the scenes which attend the death of a
“(’aboceer,” or man ®f rank, in Ashan
tco:
Well, immediately after demise, the
body of a Caboceer is washed, anointed
with sweet oils and grease, and sprinkled
with gold dust. The oils and grease
cause the gold dust to stick to the
corpse, which, being black, throws off
ilie bright color of the gold to perfec
tion. The heard is trimmed into knots,
and upon each knot are tied small heads
of glass and tlnn particles of gold. The
Ashantees, you perceive, are' as dainty
m the decoration of the beards of their
dead as the Assyrian dandies were of
their own when living. I n doth of
costly silk-embroidered damask, or in
velvet, or in other rich garments, the
body is dressed and ornamented with
armlets and necklaces of gold and silver.
A cry often pure lumps or unwroudit
nuggets of gold, bored through and
through, arc strung upon a piece of
hempen string and twisted around the
forearms in the form of bracelets. Thus
gavly bedizened and perfumed and
cleansed, the body is placed upon a chair
in a sitting attitude or is shown recum
bent upon a bed trimmed with gaudy
drapery. \\ hen this combined rite of
purification and garniture has been com
pleted the relations and friends assemble
and begin to dance and sing. While
the relations and friends are making
merry a fetishman or priest is led slowly
into the midest of the festive throng,
and the female slaves of the dead Cabo
ceer are brought before him. After the
utterance of various incantations he pre
tends that the fetish has denoted, by
means of his mediation, a certain slave
for election 1o follow her master to the
next world; hut I need not he at much
to suggest to you that the members of
the family always decide beforehand
among themselves which unfortunate
wretch shall accompany the- deceased
chief.
Being chosen, and by the choice con
demned to die. the slave is stripped
naked. Around her neck a wisp of hay
is wound, and her arms are rudely pin
ioned with a rope of straw. She is now
roughly dragged a second time to the
presence of the fetishman, who recom
mends her, in a speech full of blasp
hemous rhodomontades and rhetorical
parade, to serve her master dutifully
through the mazes of the unknown
sphere to which he lias been summoned
on a journey.* During the delivery of
the portentous exhortation lie is busily
employ' and in daubing a white-colored
earth over the face of the weeping slave ;
and, when the admonitory harangue has
been exhausted, lie strikes her severely
with his open palm upon either cheek.
In benighted zeal the company snatch
up the sacerdotal cue’ They strive to
rival one another in repeating the as
sault with t • harshest violence, and in
dealing tin keenest pain on her nude
and trembling person.
Having been removed by dint of cuffs
or manual force from the sight of the
fetishman the slave is hurried to a wood
en box, into which the carcase of the
Caboceer will eventually he squeezed.
Along the lid of the box the slave is
stretched upon her stomach, and her
feet and her head are grasped by two
executioners, so that her struggles may
he subject t< control. A friend of the
dead Caboceer approaches the prostrate
creature and slashes her with a sword
just below the right shoulder-blade
EASTMAN, DODGE CO., GEORGIA, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1575.
Catching the blood which flows from the
wound, he smears the box. When a
sufficiency of blood has been drawn for
the purpose, she is lifted from the lid
and is reviled, struck and covered with
spittle by the bystanders, All the while
she utters the loudest and most grievous
lamentations ; and the louder and more
grievous they are, the more acceptable
do the torturers deem the sacrificed
gratuity to the dead Caboceer. She is
then driven to the spot where she is to
he slain. When the head has l>een cut
off the heart is plucked ouT through, an
opening in the heck. An executioner
receives the head with yells and frantic
signs of joy, and runs with it through
the town. Savagely and furiously lie
tosses it to the ground and kicks it like
a ball before him, snatches it up in lffs
flight, spits on it, flings it into the air,
catches it in its descent, or, permitting it
to drop heavily, kicks it again and
again. The body is never buried, hut it
is spurned aside to he eaten by wild
beasts or vultures.
A Reverie of the Pacific.
The following reverie on viewing the
Pacific Ocean is taken from Aliss Wepp
ner’s charming hook of travel, “The
Northern Star and Southern Cross,” and
is scarcely equaled in literature for
elegance of diction and impressiveness of
thought. As one reads it, the vast mys
tic realm opens before him, and the
majesty and peace of eternity symbolized
by the Pacific Ocean,spread out in broad
and limitless expanse before his inner
vision, subduing and soothing his spirit by
the overpowering excellencies and match
less beauties the Infinite has provided :
“ Our path the Pacific was a very soli
tary one; for twenty-four days we
sighted neither steamer nor sailing ves
sel. We passed the Sandwich Islands at
a distance of 500 iniles to the south. On
our third day we lost n Chinaman, who,
in opium delirium, had jumped over
hoard. He was long searched for, but
not picked up; it is supposed that he
was crushed by the paddle-wheels. On
fine days ‘Afat’ used to make one com
fortable on deck in an easy arm-chair,
and 1 indulged in my persistent reveries.
The mystery of life is apt to strike one
very forcibly on the solitary Pacific
Ocean, and should any one he desirous
of getting at the real depth and certitude
of the accepted philosophic data of the
present day, I can recommend him no
better school than twenty-four days
across this ocean, lie will feel very
small and he inclined to come to the con
clusion that he knows very little about
anything, and least of a l l about himself.
“The shining firmament, rocking itself
in the bosom of the deep, the glorious
orb of the' day taming the impetuous
Neptune with his ardent rays, the thou
sand golden beams Avith which the atmos
phere is strianed; the dazzling white and
.foaming ocean unknown and awe-inspir
ing in its unfathomable depths.
Thinker, let thy mind wander to the
heavens, to the innumerable worlds,
which gem-like, occupy the infinity of
space ; look at the roaring seas, and what
spheres of thought are opened out to
thee ! Search and fathom as thou may
est, plunge thy mind in the deepest
depths of infinity and then come hack
and toll me what thou hast found; tell
me what thou art and who I am!
“Solve the riddle of thy existence;
explain to me the mysteries of the heav
ens, the worlds and the seas! Tell me
what life is, and death, and eternity !
“ Thou returnest from thy dreamy
realms of thought, thou mighty thinker,
and tellest me nothing! Poor, helpless
philosopher, where is thy genius? Thou
knowest so much, and yet so little—less
than nothing, a thousand nothings!
_ “ Try again, thou great and self-suffi
cient reasoner; rack thy brain once more,
Take the mystery of thy life along with
thee? Death will come to thy aid; he
solves the riddle—only he.
“ As for me, I forbear to wander into
the dark, impenetrable realms of specu
lative thought, and to expose myself to
useless torture. I seek to spy out nothing
to fathom nothing. I will be a philos
opher in my own way ; I will he happy.
Hudi a glorious heaven above, the whole
creation full of wonders! Let what is
now mystery he mystery; they all will
10 sealed to me in God’s own time.
iiK ii I shall know who I am, and whv
now I am here; and I shall find what the
greatest thinkers of the earth have ever
been in search of, but have never found
,iml never will! Satisfied with this
beautiful world, and with my faith in
God, and the love for dutv in mv heart
1 am the happiest of mortals, am happv
everywhere. 1 *
iliev heave and toss again, the wild
billows of the ocean, until sea and clouds
and sky lovingly embrace each other.
And the sun, while taming Neptune, lias
lulled him to sleep. He shines deeper
and still deeper into the awful abyss, as
if lie would disclose to my eyes its hidden
treasures! I follow the golden orb, and
amongst innumerable wonders and ter
rors we search a mournful and a sacred
spot. Here slumber the millions of souls
that the sea in its fury lias swallowed in
its bosom.
“Shine on, fair sun, and smile for once
upon the dead. Send a ray of light into
the mansions of the departed.
“ Sleep peacefully yet a little while in
your ocean beds, my dear brothers and
sisters, until the creator awakes you.”
Pretty Speeches.
To he able readily, and without pre
meditation, to say the right thing is an
enviable gift still, and may be made a
wonderful instrument of conciliation
and pacification. Tiie worst of it is that
persons possessing the power of repartee
are apt to make a hostile rather than an
amicable use of it; and, indeed, most of
us covet it rather as a whip to sting with
than a feather to tickle. Caustic
speeches are sure to draw, and the most
amiable people, who would not them
selves hurt their friends’ feelings on any
account, chuckle over them as much as
others. Therefore they are continually
chronicled, hut pretty speeches lack the
same pungency, and are passed by as in
sipid; yet I think there is a fine savor
about one or two that I remember—that
said by George the fourth to the officer
of marines, for example. It may he fa
miliar to you, but will really hear repe
tition. There was an empty bottle on the
table, and the king told the servant to
“take away that marine.” A guest sit
ting next to the king whispered in his
ear that an oliieer present belonged to
that branch of the service. George the
In God 2 rust.
fourth ascertained his name, and then,
addressing him aloud, asked if lie knew
why an empty bottle was called a ma
rine. “No, your majesty,” replied the
officer. “Because,” said the king, “it
has done its duty, and is ready to do it
again.” Which was a neat way of get
ting out of a rather awkward phrase as
one can well imagine. Ladies, however,
are the fair and proper recipients of
pretty speeches, and the man who gets
them is a sort of poacher. The Due de
Xivernois made an ingenious one to
Madame du Barri. who was endeavoring
to persuade him to withdraw his opposi
tion to some measure she had set her
heart on. “It is no use, Monsieur le
Due,” she said, “you are only injuring
your influence, for the king has made up
liis mind, and I have myself heard him
say that lie will never change.” “Ah,
madame, he was looking at you,” replied
the duke. Could any hut a Frenchman
have ever conveyed determined resistance
in so polite a farm? There was an inge
nious amount of devotion implied in the
remark of a love-sick millionaire, when
the object of hisaffectionsbecameecstatic
over the beauty of the evening star.
“Oh, do not, do not praise it like that!”
he cried, “I cannot get it for you.” It is
no wonder that Tom Moore was ever
such a general favorite, if he often said
such charming little things as he wrote.
I think the very prettiest, quaintest quip
ever penned is in one of his love-songs.
The lover can not deny that he has paid
to others homage before he saw the pre
sent object of his affections; in fact, he
learned lip-service very early.
“That lesson of sweet and enraptured lore
I have never forgot, I’ll allow:
I have had by rote very often before,
But never by heart until now.”
Irishmen generally do manage to say
prettier things than others can. They
have a certain confidence or assurance
which enables them to blurt out what
ever comes uppermost in his mind; that
is why they make hulls. A man who is
always shooting must miss sometimes.
The more cautious Englishman or Scotch
man escapes the blunders, hut scores
fewer hits, and does not often marry an
heiress, I believe.— Cassell's Magazine.
An Old French Relic.
While demolishing an old house at
Montematre, and clearing the site for
the church of the Sacred Heart, the
workmen made an interesting discovery;
they found that the wainscoting of one
of the rooms was composed of wood
elegantly carved and gilded. The vari
ous pieces when put together showed
that it was an old royal coach whose
panels had been used “to stop a hole to
keep the wind away.” There is no know
ing how this relic of the ancient-regime
came to he used for building purpose;
the probability is that some" Brutus or
Aristides of the revolution of ’93 seized
the royal equipage, and contemptuously
used tf* • niatcrGE *■-;:: r* voh *-> coa
st ruct a dwelling. L may have been the
coach into which Louis XVI. told Lord
Star to step; Mdrne. de Pompadour may
have ridden in it; it served at
the wedding of or
have conveyed Louis !vVI. to the scaf
fold. The panels are said to prove that
the coach was very old, but it could not
well have been built before the fifteenth
century; for in 1404 the only suspended
coach which existed belonged to Queen
Isabella; and under Francis I there were
only three, one of which belonged to the
Queen, another to Diana, of Poicters,
and the third to Jean de Laval. Ac
cording to Delaure, there were a great
many coaches in Paris in 1563, and the
parliament petitioned the king to pro
hibit them, as they took up the 1 whole
street and splashed ladies and gentlemen
riding to court. Toward the cml of the
reign of Henry IV. Bassompierre had a
carriage built with doors and windows.—
Paris Letter to Pall Mall Gazette.
Lime Water for Burns.— A corre
spondent writes that the readiest and
most useful remedy for scalds and burns
is an embrocation of lime water and
linseed oil. These simple agents com
bined form a thick, cream-like substance,
which effectually excludes the air from
the injured parts and allays the inflam
matioj almost instantly. He mentions
a case where a child fell backward into a
bath-tub of boiling water, and was nearly
flayed from her neck to below her hips.
Her agonies were indescribable; hut her
clothing being gently removed, and the
lime and oil preparation thickly spread
over the injured surface, she was sound
asleep in five minutes. Subsequently,
the parts were carefully washed r with
warm milk and water three times a day,
the oil dressing renewed, and the little
patient rapidly recovered. Though all
the scalded skin came off, she did not
Rave a scar. This remedy leaves no hard
coat to dry on the sores, hut softens the
parts, and aids nature to repair the in
jui v in the readiest and most expeditious
manner. This mixture may be pro
cured in the drug stores; but if not
t hus accessible, slack a lump of quick
lime in water, and as soon as the water
is clear mix it with the oil and shake it
"e i. It the case is urgent, use boiling
water over the lime, and it will become
clear m five minutes. Tlie preparation
may be kept ready bottled in the bouse
and it will be as good six months old as
when first made.— American Farm Jour
nal.
—A little Idaho three-year-old fell
into a well, where the water was only six
inches deep, and remained there six hours
belore he was discovered. When he was
finally rescued his pent-up wrath knew
no bounds. There was no crying about
it, hut such a volley of invectives fell
upon the heads of neglectful parents as
never before fell from childish lips. Here
is a sample : “ You fink I kan tay in a
well, wifout nuffin to eat, like a* f’og.
F I wasn t no hotter ladder n mudder ’n
’ou I’d do wifout children ! ”
—At a city market the other day, a
pale-faced, solemn man took off his hat,
smoothed back his hair, and said: “My
friends, we know not how soon we may
fall by the wayside. We stand here to
day—next week we may sleep with the
dead. I feel that I have only a few more
days to stay, and I wi-h someone would
lend me fifteen cents so thai I or ~ -et a
dish of baked beans" lhe crowd at
once moved away.
One of the most important, hut one of
the most difficult things for a powerful
mind, is to he its own master. A pond
may lay quiet in a plain, hut a lake wants
mountains to compass and hold it in.
HOW TO GOVERN OUR CITIES.
T!:e Awful Eurden ( Debt tlir.i hnir
I*.!**;! S ; Tls* Be. enj llnorisiou* luerriDM'.
From the Chicago Tribune.
Air. William AI. Grosvenor of Ht.
Louis has been making a recent investi
gation into the municipal indebtedness
of this country. His search demon
strates that Air. Blaine has rather under
stated than overstated the" libel debts of
of the country in the exhibit which he
made about a year ago, and which at
tracted so much attention at the time.
Air. Blaine estimated the aggregate
municipal indebtedness, near the close
of last year, at $570,000,000. This
showed an enormous increase within four
years, since the census of 1870 seated the
municipal debts (exclusive of state and
country) to be $328,244,520. But later
investigations, covering a period of five
years, show that Air. Blaine’s estimate
was a low one. A recent number of the
Financial Chronicle gave a list of city
securities, which showed that the bonds
of only thirty-two cities in the country
(exclusive of their floating indebtedness)
amount $525,632,728, or nearly as much
as Air. Blaine’s estimate of the gross
municipal indebtedness. But the last
annual reports of Alassachusetts show
that the cities in that state alone, be
sides those included .in the thirty-two
cities cited above, own $36,914,634. In
Ohio, the reports show that the cities of
that state, outside of the cities included
in the Financial Chronicle’s statement,
owe $8,909,714. Thus the bonded debt
of the thirty-two cities, and the cities of
only two states among all those not in
cluded in that list, amounts to $571,457,-
076, or a larger sum than Air. Blaine
estimated for the whole country. A
comparison of the census statement shows
that these cities owed less than two
thirds of the total municipal'indebted
ness of that time. Assuming that this
ratio remains the same, the present
showing would make the aggregate
municipal indebtedness $856,185,614.
This is a higher rate than even Air.
Grosvenor is willing to accept. He
therefore makes a propper allowance for
a smaller ratio of increase in the cities
where statements are not made. The in
crease in the thirty-two cities between
1870 and 1875 was 160 per cent. The
increase of the Alassachusetts cities not
included in the list of thirty-two is 130
per cent,. The increase of the Ohio cities
has been 290 per cent. The average in
crease in the two states has been more
than 160 per cent. It is entirely within
hounds to assume that the increase in
the other cities of tlie country Ims been
70 per cent, or less than half of the
average increase in the states of Massa
chusetts and Ohio. Upon this basis, the
aggregate municipal indebtedness of the
country at this time amounts to $758,-
000,000, or nearly $200,000,000 more that
Mr. Blaine estimated.
New York furnished a proof‘that the
estimated increase or vu per cent, ia en
tirely reasonable. From a statement
furnished recently by governor Tilden, it
appears that the municipal debts of that
state outside of New York city, Brook
lyn, and Albany, have increased 119 per
cent, in less than two years. It should
be stated, however, that the thirty-two
cities which have a total bonded indebt
edness of $525,632,728 have sinking funds
that amount to $62,443,953. Deducting
this, the net indebtedness in these cities,
and those of New York, Alassachusetts,
and Ohio not included in that list, is
$551,684,533. Add to this the debt of
the other cities in the country, upon the
estimated increase of 70 per cent, since
187(1, and the net municipal indebtedness
of the country, after deducting resources,
is still $706,672,407.
In an article which we printed a few
weeks ago, we drew a comparison between
the municipal indebtedness of this coun
try and that of Great Britain. This
comparison may now be extended still
further. The average municipal indebt
edness of twenty English cities smaller
than London is about S3O per capita.
But the minor American cities, with,
about the same population as these twenty
English cities, owe about $92 per capita.
The contrast is presented in still another
form. The report of the local govern
ment hoard in Great Britain shows that,
deducting the British national debt,
there is a total local indebtedness of
$360,000,000, or about sll per capita.
Take the same local indebtedness in this
country, including everything except the
national debt, and we have:
State debts $382,970,617
County debts 180,000,000
Municipal debts 709,000,000
Total $1,331,970,517
This is a local indebtedness of about
S3O per capita for all the people in this
country, or about three times as great as
the local indebtedness per capita in Great
Britain. The strain in this country is
still more notable when we count the in
terest paid. The interest on the local in
debtedness probably averages 7 percent.,
which would make it $93,000,000 annu
ally, while the interest on the British
local indebtedness does not exceed $15,-
000,000 a year; so that, while the interest
on our national indebtedness is more
than $20,000,000 less than Great Britain
pays on its national debt, the total in
terest we pay every year on all debts is
from $40,000,000 *to $50,000,000 more
than Great Britain pays on its total in
debtedness.
The statement of local indebtedness does
not tully set forth the full measure of
recklessness and extravagance that char
acterize our municipal governments; for,
notwithstanding the startling; increase of
local indebtedness, taxation has likewise
increased at a frightful rate. A state
ment of fifteen cities, (New York, Phila
delphrn, Boston, Brooklyn, St. Louis,
Chicago, Cincinnati, Jersey Citv Louis
ville, Newark, Cleveland, San Francisco,
Providence, Albany Milwaukee) shows
that the taxable valuation of property
has increased nearly $1,000,000,000 in the
last live years, and the tax lew in those
cities, which was $64,000,000 in" 1869-’7O
was $97,500,000 in 1874—’5. It only re
mains to be stated, that in not one of
those cities was the debt reduced within
the time mentioned, so that the increase
of taxation was devoted, aside from the
payment of interest on the bonded debt,
to the payment of current expenses and
local improvements. In 1870, the whole
sum raised by state, county and munici
pal taxes was about $280,000,000, and the
most careful estimate now places tlie rev
enue exacted from' the same sources at
8.303,000,000 annually. This is over and
Payable in Advance.
NUMBER IK
above the increase ol' debt. Deducting
the state taxes, the country and munici
pal governments raise $295,000,000 a
year, and have added $430,(HX),000 to
their indebtedness within five years. Ac
cording to this, our local government
really costs, in taxes and increased debt,
#380,000,000 annually, or more than the
entire annual revenue of Great Britain
for all purposes, which is $370,000,000.
We commend this exhibit to the earn
est consideration of our readers, as pre
senting the most serious problem ol pop
ular government.
CALIFORNIA CUSTOMS.
Hon a Tiilllcfontt Man (.<>! a Seal iis a
Coach.
The stage coach from Milton was about
to leave Tuttletown after changing horses.
Every seat, both inside and out, was full,
•xcept one, which was occupied by a
tourist wrapped in his supercilious dig
nity and a heavy linen duster. A resi
dent of Tuttletown, wishing to ride to
Sonora, approached the stage and in
quired for a seat. “ All full inside,”
growled the tourist, spreading himself to
the full extent of his dignity and duster.
“ But you are occupying two seats,”
argued the man front Jackass Hill.
“ I ain’t going to be crowded; I pay
for my comfort and intend to keep it.’’
“ Did you pay for two seats?”
“ I’ve only secured one seat, but there
is no room for another in this coach, sir,”
and the tourist settled himself back,
while the other passengers grunted their
disgust in tones not particularly vocifer
ous but exceedingly deep.
“ You are not acting as a gentleman
should, sir, nor exactly in accordance
with the etiquette of our rude California
society,” calmly replied the man on the
outside, smiling in spiteof his annoyance
at the dog-in-the-manger style of this
boor.
“ 1 don’t hold myself accountable to
the society of California. 1 pay my way
and ask odds of nobody, and your in
ference that 1 am not a gentleman might
be termed where I came from an indica
tion that you wish to fight.”
“We don’t fight in this country,”
calmly replied the man from Tuttle
town.
“ You don’t. Then I must have been
misinformed. Pray, what do you do
when a man insults you ?” and a sort of
triumph gleamed in the eye of the
stranger.
“ Do, why we shoot him on the spot
and that is the end of it. We don’t
waste time after we start in. By the
way, I think I can squeeze in alongside
of you there, can’t I?”
“Don’t know but you can,” and a full
half seat appeared beside the dignified
fool, as if by magic.
The Tuttletown citizen rode very com
fortably from that hamlet to Sonora, and
heard no more about fighting from the
tourist, although remarks in regard to
“ dead shots ” and the rapidity with
which insults are avenged in the Sierras
formed the staple of conversation among
the other passengers until they reached
the city hotel.
—A boy thus describes his misdeeds
and their punishments: My sister Em
has got a feller who has been coming to
see her every night for some time. Night
before last, just to have a little fun, I
went into the parlor and crawled under
the sofa on the sly and waited until he
got settled, and just as he was asking her
—if she was willing—to become his dear
partner for life, and trust to his strong
right arm for support and protection, I
gave three red-hot Indian war-whoops
and fired off an old horse-pistol that I
had borrowed of Sam Johnson, and, my
gracious, how that fellow jumped up and
scooted for the door ! He never stopped
to get his hat, but tumbled head over
heels down the door-steps. As for Em,
she just squatted right down on the floor
and screeched like blue blazes till dad
and mother came running it with nothing
on but their night-clothes and wanted to
know what the matter was. But Em
only yelled the louder, and kept pointing
under the sofa till dad got down on bis
knees and saw me there, and pulled me
out by my hind leg. When he got rue out
to the wood-shed lie wrapped me over
his knee and went at me with an old
trunk strap, and I’ve not got over it
nicely yet.
The Drama in the Olden Time.
About twenty nobles (thirty-five dol
lars) seem to have been the price of a
copyright of a play. The printed play
was sold for sixpence, and the usual pres
ent of a patron for a dedication was ten
dollars. Dramatic poets had free ad
mission to the theaters. Every play had
to lie licensed by the master of the revels
previous to it being performed. It was
usual to carry “ table-books” to the the
ater, to note down the passages which
were made matter of censure or applause.
This may account for some multilated
copies of Sliakspeare’s works, which are
still extant. The custom of “ damning ”
a play on its first performance is at least
as ancient as that great author. No less
than three plays of Ben Johnson suffered
that fate. Before the performance com
menced, and between the acts, the au
dience amused themselves in various
ways, reading, playing at cards, drinking
ale and smoking tobacco. Refreshments
were supplied by attendants, who cried
the commodities with as much noise as
our modern tradesfolk. In 1633 women
smoked tobacco in the theater as well as
men. Rich spectators were allowed to
sit on the stage. Here the fastidious
critic was usually to be met with ; the
wit, ambitious of distinction; and the
gallant, studious toWlisplav his person
and fine clothes. Seated, or reclining on
the rushes of the floor, they regaled
themselves with pipes and tobacco, pro
vided by their pages. '1 he ease of their
situation, or their imper tine nee, excited
the disgust of the poorer class in the pit.
who frequently hooted, hissed, and threw
dirt on the stage coxcombs; but the gal
lants displayed their “high breeding by
an utter disregard of their behavior.
The audience, too, often vented their
ill-nature on the player.-.
In city houses one cannot be too care
lul to stop the drains of the wash-basins
mid close the doors of wash-closets during
the night, for many a fever is generated
from the drain-pipe of a wash-basin. In
country houses care should be taken to
have no foul water standing in bed-rooms
as it soon gains the quality of un whole
someness.
EASTMAN TIMES.
RATES OF ADVERTISING:
•pack. 1 rii, 3 ai. 3m. It a.
One square f 4no f 7 00 * 1000) f lfl 06
Two squares C 25 12 00* 18 00 28 00
Four squares 975 ly i| 28 HO 30 00
One-fourth col 11 50 ; 22 Ol 34 OOj 400
One-half c 01.... 2c UO S'.: 50 55 (*>! 80 00
One eolun n 35 Opi oo oo so oo{ ISO |Q
Advertisement* Inserted at Hie rate off 1 .90 per
square for the first lusertton, and 7ft reut* for each
subsequent one. Ten lines or lee* ooniit'tnt* a
square.
Professional cards, $15.00 pjtr annum; for sit
months, fUI.OO. tn advance.
SAYINGS AND DOINGS.
—Why He Sic.hep.
T do not mourn, sweet wife of mine,
Because those ruby lips of thine—
Shat marble lrow
Were kissed by one who might have Ims h,
Had I not chanced t < step between,
Thy husband now.
1 do not grieve l*ecuuse thy heart,
Kre Cupid touched it with niv dart.
For him would l>eat ;
Nor that the hand which owns my ring
Once mote his gift, a “Mizpah” thing
It was hut meet.
I sigh not that his arms were places!
Some score of times around your waist.
Si sweet and slim.
Ah no, my love! the woe you see
Is mine because von wedded me
Instead of hint.
Thoughtfulness for others, generos
ity, modesty, and sulf-respect are the
qualities which make a real gentleman or
lady, as distinguished from the veneered
article which commonly goes by that
name.
A little while the roses bloom,
A little while the -oft winds blow,
A little while thi* baby (angle <l.
A little while—from bud to snow.
Hut after all the rose is sweet.
And after all the winds have blown
And after all the baby blessed,
And after all it is our own.
If in our thought the rose remains,
And winds are sweet in memory,
Why should not then the baby gone
Forever be a babe to me?
October Atlantic.
It is true that we are continually in
spired, and that wo do not lead a gracious
life, except so far as we act under this
interior inspiration. But how few feel
it ! how few are they who do not annihi
late it by their voluntary distractions or
by their resistance!
He who has once believed that life
has an aim and a meaning, and who lias
given up that belief for the conviction
that life is simply a misfortune without
aim or meaning, has made but a sorry
exchange, even though he may have the
gratification of boasting that be is at one
with the great thinkers of bis age.
When the last rose of summer,
Is faded and gone,
And the blue bottle hummer
Lies dead as a stone;
When the mudbugs and stingers
Take umbrage and go;
Oh, tell us, why lingers
This wild mus qui to '!
There is a young woman of Lynn
Grown up so excessively thin,
When she wears her pull-back
She seems all flesh to lack,
And her bonnet seems stuck on a pin.
On the walk a hat did lie
And a gallant chap sailed hv,
And he cut a lively swell—
He was a clerk to a hotel;
And lie gave that hat a kick,
And he came across a brick —
Now upon a crutch he goes,
Minus half a pound of toes.
They are my friends,
Who are most mine,
And 1 most theirs
When common cares
Give room to thoughts poetic and divine,
And in a psalm of love all nature bends.
Mrs. Dobbs, of Providence, says she
made her lazy dead-and-alive husband
move to a lively measure for once in his
life. She placed a still* hair-brush in a
shaded spot in the bed-room, so that In
stepped on it with his bare foot.
Song of the festive Granger, beard in
the corn field:
Fodder, dc- .r fodder, conic home with me now.
Brave Col. Nash scorned brandy
smash, and good old gin was all two thin;
but the tempting bait of a whisky
straight revived bis soul with the flow
ing bowl. Alas for man, when corn-juice
ran ! Then comes the dregs, and tangled
legs, and nodding posts, and grinning
ghosts, ghosts dressed in blue, “ I came
for you”—and the pleasant “ smile” ends
in durance vile.
Warren Hastings’ elephant, which
is a hundred years old, is being fed up
to be ridden by the Prince of Wales when
he visits Lucknow, India. This makes the
elephant swing his trunk in the air and
wag bis valise, as be did in childhood’s
happy hours.
Napoleon’s Willow.
Ex-president Johnson, during his life,
received a twig taken from the willow
which bends over the grave of Napoleon
Bonaparte, on St. Helena, which be
planted in the garden of bis late resi
dence, and which lias now grown to a
stately tree. A twig from this tree will
be planted over the grave of Mr. John
son, on Johnson’s Hill.
A quarter of a century ago one fre
quently heard a grand song which had
been written with Napoleon and that St.
Helena willow as the text. Like hun
hreds of others, with a hundred times
more merit, it has been nearly forgotten.
We will quote some of the verses from
memory:
On the lone barren Isle, where the loud
roaring billow
Assails the stern rock and theficrtemp
est raves,
The hero lies still, and the dew-dropping
willow,
Like a fond weeping mourner, leans over his
grave.
Though tempests may rave,
And the hoarse cannon rattle,
He heeds not, he hesirs not,
He’s free from all pain,
He sleeps his last sleep,
He has fought his last, battle,
No sound can awake him
To glory again.
Oh, shade of the mighty—where now are thy
legions,
That rushed hut to conquer when thou
led’st them on ?
Alas! they have perished in far distant le
gions, . .
And all save the fame of their triumph is
gone.
Though tempests may rave, etc.
Yet, spirit immortal, the tomb cannot hind
thee,
But, like thine own eagle that soared to the
sun,
Thy soul springs from bondage, and thus
leaves behind thee
A name which, before thee, no mortal had
won.
Though tempests may rave, etc-.
—Two persons were once disputing so
loudly on the subject of religion that
they awoke a big dog, which had been
sleeping on the hearth before them, and
be forthwith barked most furiously. An
old divine present, who had been quietly
sipping bis tea while the disputants were
talking, gave the dog a kick, and ex
claimed : “ Hold your tongue, you silly
brute ! You know no more about it than
they do!”
Butter will remove tar spots. S>ap
and water will atterwards take out the
grease stains.