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OLl'MK VI t. f) $ E T 1R Y 4 „ L V THE LONG RUN.” ■ 1 ftp oM-fasliioned saying, go lightly expressed. 1 W.1 so carelessly uttered, L one of the best Ob, ponder, young trider, With young lit# begun ; fbe deep, earnest meaning 0 { "in the long run.” for “in tbe long run, boys, Ibe seed will spring up That was sown in the garden Or droned iu the cup. And remember ! no roses Will spring from the weed, And no beautitul trait From unworthy seed. How many a stripling Iu trouble to-day, Jiy riotous living With comrades too gay ; With character shipwrecked, And duties undone, Will bo sorrows harvesting "lu the long run. ” Aud “in Ibe long run,” will The toiler /are best Who performs honest labor And takes honest rest. Who, contented and happy, Hastes uot, in a day, Or a year, to heap riches That will pass away ! The good and the evil That bide on the earth, The joy and the sorrow, The pain and the mirth ; 'fhe buttles unheeded, The victories won, Will yield what was sown, lads, "Iu the long run." If everyone who’s played the fool Had died ami turned to clay, Bow many people would be left. Alive aud well to-dap ? MISCELLANY. Josh Billings on Marriage. Sum marry bekase they think wim iwill be scarce next year, and live to loiidei how the crop holds out. Sum many to get rid of themselves pd discover that the game was one tiat two could play at and neither win. Sum marry for love, without a cent “ their pocket, nor a friend in the »rid, nor a drop of pedigree. This Ugdesperate, but it is the strength of the game. Sum marry in haste and then set tow and think it carefully over. Mini think it carefully over fust and set down and marry. No one can tell jist exactly wfaar he ? letch up when he touches calico. No man can tell jist exactly what ( ico lias made up her mind to do — Wieo don‘t know hersell. Dry goods kinds iz the child of eireum ihiu.es. Marriage iz a safe way to gamble.— 11 )’ou win, you win a pile, and if you ‘ o don’t lose anything. A Bad llabit. Exaggeration is a bad habit, but one •inch was much practiced by the ) ungev members of our household.— Qe mor “ing we all pledged ourselves 1 tfit-strictest veracity of speech for - u Jay, each member of the family rising offenders against the rule.— " 'iitlv one of the girls said, ‘I nev as so cold in my life/ An inquir- 1>u k caused the speaker to modify '' Statement instantly, with, ‘Oh, I [ mean that, of course I have ; much colder many times, and I " ■’t think it was so cold, after all ' ret *ark to the effect that ‘Miss So so was the homeliest girl in the civ 1 o '^s recalled as soon as made, the ^^'-ambso ^ K | r be,n S compelled only to rather admit plain that was 01 excessively homely. So it " n tlu ' ou gh the day, causing laeh 1 uncut, which was good-na } accepted by the subjects, and fa ‘S r, se to constant corrections in * ink* 1‘est of truth. One thing be ^ttore and more surprising, how to each one of us, and that was ^ * amount of cutting d own which our careless statements demanded ’ ! Giia new rule. We found that ; /°! us had regarded the truth as r tull y should .—Chicago r as we Wjer ; . Tl ‘ h ' ai four hundred j n ,i ' L ‘ and twRnty [J. n al in this country, and only ‘ ° lawyers. A cynical bacbe ■ S 8 ' ,OWa l a dios can bfk 1 G Inout ^ much ad hm t- 0 better age the bruin. pje Hashnun %xm£ ♦ Tlie Story of an Eventful Journey. BY MINNIE A. WEDGE. ‘And this is your final answer, Miss Ernest?’ and the young man's hand¬ some face grew very pale, as he await ed the answer. Ilis companion's fair face flushed deeply, and she turned partly away, as if afraid that she might lose her firm¬ ness il she met the earnest eyes fixed upon her, and she replied, with visi¬ ble effort, ‘It is, Mr. Davenport/ She was very pretty to look at—any stranger would have admitted that— and, as she stood in her plain, black dress in the rays of the setting sun, her presence seemed to light np the low, plain room into positive beauty. ller companion bore ull the exter¬ nal evidences of culture and wealth, and his handsome dress contrasted strangely with the poor, meager fur¬ niture of the room, but his eyes were fixed in a sadly-admiring gaze upon the young face before him. They both stod in silence for a moment, and then he stepped forward with extend¬ ed hand, and said, in a voice that quivered just a little with pain, ‘I had hoped to shield all your life with my life. That can never be ; but if you are ever in trouble, I hope that you will consider me your friend ; I shall ever be that,’ 1 he solt, blue eyes of the young girl filled witli tears at these words so earnestly spoken, and, as she laid her hand for a moment in his, she replied : ‘H 1 am evor in need of a friend’s as* sist ince, I shall be only too ready to call upon you.’ ‘You could n Dt be too ready, Miss Ernest 1 I will bid you good-bye/ ‘Good-bye, Mr. Davenport/ And so the rich young lawyer pass¬ ed out, down the humbie walk, and out through the wicket gate, feeling as if he had lost all that was most precious to him in life, and henceforth must pursue his daily occupation with a sense of something wanting—some¬ thing gone ; and he paced his hand¬ some apartments until very late that night, trying in vain to clear away the mist that seemed to have gathered about his path. At last he said aloud, T will go away for awhile ; perhaps bustle and noise will help me to forget May Ernest, for a little while at a time. Relatives I have none, save that precious cousin oi mine in the West. Why not surprise him with a visit? He is a jolly fellow ; perhaps he will help me to shake off this gloom. I wdl start to-morrow/ Meanwhile in the humble house afore-mentioned, the object of Harry Davenport’s thoughts sat in alow chair in her own room, trying to smooth out a tangled maze of troubled thought ; at last she said resolutely, while she forced back the ready tears, ‘No, I could never marry Harry Da¬ venport ; everybody would think that I did it for a home, and he is so rich and talented, while I am only a poor orphan, with nothing but my ed ica tion to depend upon for my daily bread ; and besides, I do not love him/ But, in spite of this earnest decla¬ ration, she took his picture from a ta¬ ble near by, and, after look at it long and earnestly, bent and kissed it, and then replaced it with tears in her eyes. Then the great problem that had been revolving iu her mind for many weeks came to her stronger than ever before. What should she do ? Where should she go ? ‘I cannot stay here any longer/ she decided. ‘Mrs Austin is very kind to me, and offers me a home as long as I w jjj stay with her; but she does not real]y need u , e> an d I will not be de pen j en t on anybody/ and her slight fi guie straightened unconsciously, but }lcr w ^ 0 j e attitude changed in a mo ment as ^fie thought, 'and I cannot jj ear to meet Harry again, and yet I d j d not i ove him/ But her tone was not quite so decided this time, ‘My aunt writes me that I could get pleu ty of situations in the West, as a teacher in the public schools. If she were not so far away, I would go to her immediately ; she tells me to come any time/ And, with this resolve, she laid down and tried to sleep, but the words, ‘I hoped to protect all your life with my life' came to her ever in her dreams. The next morning she arose very early, and greatly surprised Mrs. Aus¬ tin by her quietly-expressed deter¬ mination to start that day en route for her aunt's home, hundreds of miles distant. EASTMAN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JULY 24, 1879. ‘Bur you have traveled so little, May,’ said the good woman, ‘You will be sure to get lost. I would uot undertake such a journey alone for all the world ! What if the cars should run off from the track, what would be¬ come of you then, I should like to know V But May smiled a sad little smile and replied, ‘Cars do not run off from the track every day, and I think I shall be able to find my way to N-, and, ouce there, I can find my aunt easiiy enough, it is such a small place. I thought that it would be very pleas¬ ant to take her by surprise.' Then she went up stairs and pack¬ ed all her earthly possessions, but not without some misgivings for the step she was about to take. When she came to Harry's picture she placed it in her pocket, saving to herself, softly, Perhaps it will be some company to mo on my journey/ Then she went down stairs, and, af¬ ter bidding Mrs. Austin a tearful good¬ bye, and promising to return to her if she did not like her new home, step¬ ped into the carriage that was to car¬ ry her to the depot, and was gone. When she reached the station she had her baggage checked, procured her ticket, and, entering the car next to the rear, seated herself and gave herself up to dismal thoughts. J ust one moment after a gentle¬ man with his hat drawn far over his eyes came out of the depot, and, look¬ ing carelessly at the car which our heroine had just entered, and then at the rear car, as if to decide which one to enter, finally entered the rear car and settled himself for a long journey. If he had entered the other car what might have happened ? But this was only another of the strange coincidences that are happen penirig all the time, although we do uot always find them out. May felt very lonely the next few days. In the daytime she managed to interest herself by watching her fel¬ low-travelers or the ever-varying landscape, bnt when night came, and found her alone in some strange hoteb she felt as if she was, indeed, alone. But, at last, she was nearing her des¬ tination, and by 9 o'clock in the even¬ ing would be in the town which she imagined was to be her future home. She did not like the idea of getting there in the evening, but felt too anx ions to get there to wait in the neigh¬ boring city until morning. Her anxiety about traveling alone was in a measure taken away, and she began to feel something of the ease of an experienced traveler, and when a fatherly-looking old man, who had sat with her for the last twenty miles, asked her a few questions, she answer¬ ed him freely, aud soon found out that ho lived only a few miles beyond her own destination, and was well ac¬ quainted with many people there. She asked him if lie knew her aunt Mrs. Edwards, and he replied, ‘Oh, yes ; I used to know her well—a nice woman she was, too—died very sud* denly a few weeks a50 of heart dis¬ ease, I believe,’ and then, suddenly starting up, he exclaimed, 'Holloa 1 there is the man 1 have been looking for all the way,' and, snatching his bag, started in full pursuit of a man who was just disappearing into the next car. She did not faint or cry out, as so many would have dour*, but for a few moments felt perfectly numbed by the intelligence. What should she do now ? There seemed nothing left for her to do but to stop at the next sta¬ tion, twenty miles away, and take the next train for home again ; and me¬ chanically she put her hand in her pocket to take out her pocket book to see how much money she had left, when, as if her sorrow a »d dismay were not great enough al ready, she discovered that there was uo pocKetbuok there—nothing but her picture and handkerchief. rose with frantic haste and ex amined her seat, the floor, aod every spot where it could have dropped, but a 'l in vain. She remembered then that, in the crowd at the station where she had last stopped for refreshments, she once as it somebody was picking her poeket, but, putting down her hand and feeliug nothing, had concluded that she was mistaken, and, having her ticket iu her traveling-bag, had had no occasion to look for the pock etbook until now. What should she do ? There she was, hundreds of miles from home, a stanger, homeless and penniless. Would anybody believe her story if she told it to them ? She thought of Barry and the kind protection that she would have if he were only there, and wept bitterly. Then, pulling her veil tightly down over her face and leaning back in the corner of her seat, she prayed earnest¬ ly, iu her great despair, and even as she prayed there was a sudden crash and shock, and before she had time to think she was thrown violently from her seat and crowded tightly into a living mass of humanity in an over,, turned car. She could not move or see anything, and, remembering her recent prayer, felt as if it were really to be answered immediately. The shrieks and groans around her were appalling, but she made no sound and did not struggle or try to change her uncomfortable posi¬ tion in the least. She heard anxious friends inquiring of each other if they were hurt, but | she had no friends, and was silent. Fortunately the lamps were put out, and the chief danger of the inmates of the car seemed to be suffocation. At last egress was made, and such passengers as had been able to make their escape commenced to help out the others, some of whom were so tightly packed in as to render it a very difficult operation. At last it was May's turn to be helped out, and a voice that sounded strangely familiar said : ‘If you^will tak emy hand, I think that I can help you out now,’ and in a moment she was out of the stifling car in the pure, fresh air ; but she felt sick and faint, and staggered when she- tried to walk. The kind stranger, seeing this, lift¬ ed her in his arms and carried her out of the confusion to a little bank, where he placed her gently down on the soft grass, saying, ‘If you had triends in the cars that you would like me to find,’ hut here he stopped short, for May, certain now that it was his voice and n<> other, flung aside her veil, and disclosed to Harry Davenport the face that had haunted him on all his journey. ‘May—Miss Ernest, is it, possible ?' lie cried in excited tones. ‘How came you here ?' and without waiting for a reply ho knelt beside her, saying anxiously, ‘Are you hurt ? Is there something I can do for you ?' ‘No, I am not hurt,’ she replied, shuddering violently, ‘but I am in trouble, Mr. Davenport, and need help/ ‘And you shall have all the help that I can give you,' he replied in low tones that thrilled her heart with their kindness, ‘It is so strange that j’ou happened to be on the train. I don’t know what I should have done if you were not,' and she turned to him with per¬ fect trustfulness, and suffered him to support her with his arm, while she sat pale and trembling and told her story from beginning to end. He looked very serious and trou¬ bled, aud, when she had finished her recital, said in a low, moved voice : 'I think that a higher will than mine must have guided me all my journey through, or I should not have been on this train to-nignt.’ It was a strange situation to be in. They were in a mountainous region several miles from » any habitation whatever, and cries and groans fell upon their ears as they sat there, and above all this scene of confusion and fright, the full moon shone brightly down. The passenger train and heavy freight train which, through careless¬ ness, had caused the collision, were at last cleared from the track, and anoth¬ er train came t> their aid, and May soon found herself in a comfortable ! room iu a village tavern, where she | was waited upon with the greatest kindness by a maid whose assiduity was in part caused by the two brig lit silver half-dollars that Harry had pri¬ vately slipped into her hand. Under her kindly ministration, May soon fell into a quiet slumber, and did not wake until the next morning, when she dressed hastily and went down stairs, where she fouud her friend anx iousiy waiting to bear from her. He was afraid that she was unfit for trav el, but she was very decided that she tuns; start for home that very day. All the journey he was gently con siderate, and paid her every attention in a kind, brotherly way, aud she trusted him and depended upon him in a way which alternately charmed | and bewildered him. ! As they ne ,red home, the old sad-; ness came on his face again as he thought how soon the happy dream of the past few days would come to an end. ‘Only a few more miles, and we shall be at home again/ said May, in- terrupting his thoughts. ‘Do you realize it? It has been s very differ¬ ent journey to me from what was go¬ ing out. I can never thank you enough. I can return your money, but I can never repay your kindness. As she spoke, she turned her blue eyes, brimful of gratitude upon him, and met a look in his brown eyes that made her turn hastily away, aud, pull¬ ing out her Handkerchief, in her con fusion, of course the picture fell out, too. Before she could prevent him, he stooped to pick it up, and, seeing whose picture it was, retained it in his hand while his eyes searched the flushing face before him. 'Why did you cairy that picture with you, Miss Ernest V But her only answer was a Still deepening color, and then the hope that had flashed into his mind changed into an almost-entire conviction, and he said in a low tone, not that he was afraid of anybody’s hearing him, for they were in the rear of the car and there were no passengers near them, but because it seems natural to speak low in a time of great earnestness : ‘You gave me your final answer that day that seems so long ago to me ; but something in my heart urges me to ask again for a little of your love, only a little ; if it were never so little, it would make me happiest man in the world. ‘It is yes or no ?' The face opposite to him was avert¬ ed and seemed intent on studying the landscape, but the hand next to him was held toward him, and instantly felt itself grasped in a warm, fervent pressure. This was her only answer, hut he was more than satisfied. Just then, when he felt as if he would have glad ly riddden a thousand miles further the inexorable conductor shouted out the name so familiar to them both, and the train commenced slackening its pace, but, under cover of the bustle of the passengers for their baggage and oth¬ er possessions, he found opportunity to press one little kiss on the unresisting hand that lay so quietly in his own— only one kiss ; bat something in its warm earnest pre sure brought the glad waves of color to May's face, while he unwillingly released the hand, and, gathering together her shawl and other belongings with an air of pro¬ prietorship quite charming to see, helped her from the train with the air that a man assumes when he is hap¬ pier than he ever expected to be in this world. And so ended the first and last jour¬ ney that May Ernest ever took alone. Is Anybody Well. To find a man enjoying perfect health is almost a rarity. Why, the other day we resolved to make it a point to inquire particularly after the physical condition of our companions ai ‘d below we detail the result. Sal¬ lying forth upon the street, we met Jones, and accosted him: ‘How is your health, Jones?' 'Never better.' ‘Ah! but say, Jones, do you really feel as you say—first-rate?’ ‘Well, I can't say that I do. That turkey on Christmas was a little too much for me. I feel a twinge of dys pepsy occasionally. Tnink if I could leave off smoking I would feel better/ Passing on, we next met Smith coming up the street, puffing and blowing like a porpoise. Why, what on earth is the matter?' we inquired. ‘Why, bless your soul, didn't jou know I had heart disease? I overlifted myself once, and now I suppose I'll have to sink into a premature grave ’ Passing on, we met Mr. Mason, a genteel tradesman, whose head would ache if a hair lay crosswise ‘Only moderate. My bronchitis is a little troublesome, ami I fear it may end in consumption. Excuse me, sir I must hasten into a drier place.' He moved on with the same solemn tread as if lollowiDg a band on a fun eral march. The next person was Job Sowers, a hard mechanic. Job ‘allowed he was iu his usual health, but that mashed foot gave him a deal ot trouble some times.” So we went on through the day, and found but one man who said he was really well, and we could see he was blind of an eye. If you desire to spend a profitable day, ask your friends to tell you their ills ot the flesh, and then you would very properly conclude that you have no more to bear than thousands of others, Quick Wit Wius. Years ago, into a wholesale grocery store in Boston walked a tall, muscu¬ lar-looking man, evidently a fresh comer from some backwoods town in Maine or New Hampshire. Accosting the first person lie met, who happened to be the merchant himself, he said ; ‘You don't want to hire a man in your store, do you ? ‘Well, said the merchant, I do not know ; what can you do ? ‘Do V said the man, ‘rather guess I can turn my hand to almost anything —what do you want done ? 'Well, if I was to hire a fellow it would be one that could lift a well, a st' ong, wiry fellow ; one, for instance, that could shoulder a sack of coffee like that yonder, and carry it across the floor and never lay it down. ‘There, now, Capting,* said the man, ‘that's just me. I can lift anything I hitch to ; you can‘t suit me better.— What will you give a mail that will suit you ? T‘ 11 tell you, said the merchant, you will shoulder that sack of coffee aud carry it across the store twice and never lay it down, I will hire you a year at &i00 a month. ‘Done,’ said the stranger, and by this time every clerk in the store had gathered around and were waiting to join in the laugh against the man, who walking up to the sack, threw it across his shoulder with perfect ease, al¬ though extremely heavy, and walking witli it twice across the store, went to a large hook which was fastened to the wall, and hanging it up, turned to the merchant and said : 'There, now, it may hang there till doomsday ; I shall never lay it down, ^ ^at sba ^ I g° about, mister ? Just S ive me ph'nty to do and one hundred dollars a month and it‘s all right. The clerks broke into a laugh, and * ho merchant, discomfitted, yet satis¬ fied, kept his agreement; and to-day the green countryman is the senior partner of the firm, and is worth a million dollars.— Utica Observer. Poor And Proucl. Young men out ofbusiness are some¬ times sadly hampered by pride. Many young men who go West take more pride than money—and bring back all the pride and no money at all. A young man that ‘works for his board' no matter what honest work he does has no leason for shame. A young man who cuts the bread of idleness, no matter how much money lie has, is disgraced. All young men starting in life ought to aim—first of all—to find a place where they can eTirn their bread and butter, with hoe, ax, spade, wheelborrow, curry-comb, blacking brush no matter how. Independence first. The bread-and-butter question settled, let the young man perform his duty so faithful as to attract, and let him constantly keep bis eyes open for a chance to do better. About half the pool, proud young men, and two thirds the poor discouraged young men, are always out of work. The young man who pockets his pride, and carries an upper lip as stiff as a cast-iron doorstep-scraper, need not starve, and stands a good chance to become rich. The Fashions. Fashions sometimes originate in a very strange way. For instance: A certain mercantile house once impor¬ ted, through a blunder, a large amount of a very ugly material which would not sell and lay dead^upon their hands. Something had to be done. The pro prietors of one or two fashion papers were interviewed. The next week their columns told thousands of eager readers that there had recently been shown a new* and stylish fabric which promised to be very fashionable; and the statement was widely copied by the daily press. Retail dealers found their customers inquiring for it, and nought it, of the jobbers in turn sought it of the importers, wbo quickly un* loaded iheir whole stock at a hand¬ some profit. 1 he goods were voted ‘beautiful' :«nd ‘stylish/ and the fabric in question was ‘the rage’ for a time. Undoubtedly the fashion papers were well paid for their trouble. 'John, did you go round and ask , lOW oiJ Mrs Jone8 u this morning as I t„lj you to do last night V ‘Yes sir* ‘Well‘what’s the result V ‘She said that seeing you had the impudence to send to ask how old she was, she had uo objections to telling you she was twenty-four/ NO. 30. WIT AMD HUMOR. A y ird of pork—Three pig's feet. Needs looking into—A telescope. Did a donkey ever die of softening of the braving ? “Jumping down a rope*' is what they call hanging in Nevada. Don't get in debt with a shoemaker if you would call your solo your own. J Can't the Ethiopian change his kin by marrying into a strange family ? Bees are said to bo a preventive of small-pox, being a sort of waxy ne, tion. ‘And what makes my little Johnny so cross this morning ?‘ ‘Dot up s'urly/ When you wake up ’at night and hear the baby crying, look out for danger, for there is a rock ahead.. A man who still carries iu his body a bullet which entered it at Antietam, calls it lead astray. It is lucky to pick up a horse shoe if it happens not to be attached to mule’s hind leg. Farmer J ones caught a rooster steal¬ ing his corn, wrung his neck, and now claims to have killed cock robbin*. The beauty of a man's parting his hair in the middle appears to be that it gives both ears an equal chance to flap. A Boston journal mentions the fact that there are minute bugs in brown sugar ; but we have none in hourt. ‘Should a man drink malt liquors?’ queries a medical exchange. Well, if a man has a wife it is his duty to sup¬ porter. IIow soon popular songs become old. Even now “My Grandfather’s Clock*' may be classed among the old time pieces. There are many things in this world that are as deceiving as a fish-hook with a worm on it ; you don't feel the point till you bite. Knowledge is the right bower, and one of the showiest cards in the pack, yet in the game of life cheek is the lit¬ tle joker that is oftentimes the winner, A man asked admission into a show for half-price, as he had but one eye. But the manager told him it would take him twice as long to see the show as it would anybody else, and charged him double. If you want to get a square, two story old-fashioned lie, ask the map you fee sneaking home across lots with u fishing-pole and lunch basket, how many he caught. Talk about the rnissmg link as much as you will, but the world at large will ksep an eye on the young man who makes his first appearance iu so., ciety in a claw-hammer coat. The boy that walks lame arouud the streets now and looks pale and dejeo ted, is the same gay and blithesome child of joy who but yesterday played base ball for five hours iu the scorch* ing suu. Dynasties may go up the spout, and principalities smash, but the man who knows just exactly how to run a newsr paper will continue to occupy the top of a corner grocery whisky barrel and #!eal out advice to publisners. A boy who went in swimmiug the other day reported the water tolerably warm, but not so warm as the polish* ed surface of a strip of weather-board** ing bis mother picked up in the wood^ shed soon after his return home with his hair wet. During an election a candidate called upon a tradesman aud solicited his vote. H would rather vole for the devil thau you,’ was the reply. ‘But/ said the candidate,‘in case your friend should not run, might I then couut on your assistance