Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XI.
Professional Directory.
ATTORNKYS AT LAW.
ISAAC L. TOOLE,
A TtORNEY A T LAW,
Vienna, Ga.
Will practice in He counties of Hous
ton, Dooly, Pulaski, Macon, Sumter and
Worth. Also in the Supreme Court of
Georgia, and in the United States Circuit
and District Courts within the State All
business entrusted to his care will receive
prompt attention. tehl-tt
O. C. HORNE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Hawkinsville, Georgia.
Having arranged all Ins other business,
Will give exclusively his personal alien
torn to the practice tii Pulaski, Wilcox and
Dodge counties, and elsewhere by special
employment.
The Criminal practice, a specialty.
Jan. 4,1877. jno4-ly
WOOTEN & BUSBEE,
attorneys at law,
VIENNA, GEORGIA.
aprlS-tf _____
C. C. SMITH.
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
And Solicitor in Equity,
McVILLE, --- - GEORGIA
Refers to Hon. Clifford Anderson, Capt.
John C. Rutherford and Walter B. Hill,
Esq., Professors of Law, Mercer Universi
ty Law School, Macon, Ga.
Prompt attention given to nil business
entrusted to my care. mar 92 6m
EDWIN MARTIN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
PERRY, GEORGIA.
Will give immediate amt careful atten
tion to all business entrusted to him in
Houston and adjoining counties.
Office in Home Journal building on
public square. apr!2 tf
ROLLIN A. STANLEY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
Dublin, Georgia.
Will practice in all the counties of the
Oconee Circuit. From long experience iD
the Criminal Practice, much of his time
will oc specially devoted to that branch of
his profession. fel>24-tf
JACOB WATSON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Hawkinsville, Georgia.
Wt.L practice in the counties of Pu
laski, Dooly, Wilcox, Dodge, Tel
fair, Irwin aud Houston. Prompt atten
tion given to .all business placed in my
hand's apr 811*
LUTHER A. HALL,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
AND REAL ESTATE AGENT,
Eastman, Ga.
\ 117 ILL practice in all counties adjacent
VV to the M. & B. railroad, the Su
preme Couit of the State and the Federal
Court of the Southern District ot Georgia.
For parties desiring, will buy, sell or lease
sny real estate, or pay the taxes upon the
same in the counties of Dodge, Laurens,
Wilcox, Telfair and Appling. Office m
the Court House. aprlolf
J. H. WOODWARD,
ATTORNEY AT LAV.',
Vienna, Ga.
,JI riLL practice in the Superior Courts
TT in the counties of liooly, Worth.
Itllcox, Pulaski and Houston, and by
s, ecial contract in oilier courts. Prompt
ulteution given to collections. mch4lf
L O. RYAN. J. B. MITCHELL.
RYAN & MITCHELL,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW
AND REAL ESTATE AGENTS,
Hawkinsville, Ga.
WILL practice in tlie counties com
prising tiie Oconee Circuit, and in
I Circuit and District Courts ot the
United States tor the Southern District of
sjeorgia. feblltf
J. M. DENTON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
I)RACTICES in the Brunswick Circuit
and elsewhere by special contract,
rfflcc at residence, Coffee county, Qa. P.
O. address, Hazlehurst, M. & B. It. R.,
t ieorgia. lob4lf
W. IRA BROWN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Vienna, Ga
ll PRACTICES in the Superior Courts of
L Oconee Circuit, and elsewhere in the
t talc by special contract. Collections
r id other business promptly attended
8-18-ly
JOHN U MARTIN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
AND REAL ESTATE AGENTS,
Hawkinsville, Ga.
PRACTICES in the Courts of Pulaski,
Houston. Dooly, Wliocx, Irwin,
Telfair, Dodge and Laurens. may-tf
CHARLES C. KIBBEE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Hawkinsville, Ga.
TILL pi act ice in the Circu't and Die
v v triot Courts of the United States
lor the Southern District of Gcorga, and
i a the Superior Courts of Houston, Dooly,
Fulaskl, Laurens, Wilcox, Irwin mid
Dodge counties. June 291 y
JOHN K. DELACY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
EASTMAN, OA.
Will practice In the counties of Pulaski,
Dodge, Telfair, Laurent, Montgomery,
Wilcox, and Irwin, of the Oconee Circuit,
and Appling and Wayne, of the Bruns
wick Circuit.
Prompt attention given to all business
entrusted to hit care. |itul7 If
pa. t. r. walked. tut. r m. johdan.
Drs. Walker & Jordan,
Having associated then.selves In the prnr
*kw „f medicine, would rtspto bully offer
tbtlr professions! services to the ellltens
of Cochran and vicinity Office on Second
Mired, next door to postnlNcti. At night
Dr. Jordan can la* found in hit room In
the rear of Ids offln. marts ly
HAWKINSVILLE DISPATCH.
OCR RATES FOR 1877.
Our subscribers will remember
that the Hawkinsville Dispatch
for 1877 will be sent postage free.
Price*, two dollars for twelve months
or one dollar for six months.
A deduction of 25 cents will be
allowed each subscriber in a club of
six, and in a club of ten an extra
copy of the paper will be sent grain
No credit subscribers taken. The
Dispatch bas tbe largest bona fide
circulation of any weekly papei in
the State.
The paper will be mailed tp any
person in Florida, Texas, or else
where, on receipt of tbe money.
Geo. P. Woods,
tf Editor and Proprietor.
THE DISPATCH FREE.
We will send the Dispatch free
one year to any person sending us
the names of five subscribers and ten
dollars. tf
Going to Revise—Look After Tour Sub
scriptions.
Within a few days we shall com
mence the semi-annual levision of
our subscription books, and we lake
this occasion to request those who
have not renewed theirsubsenptionsto
do sp at once, if they desire the Dis
patch continued. We have run the
Dispatch upon a cash system for
over six years, and the plan has pro
ven satisfactory to our patrons and
profitable to the proprietor. Our
paper has grown into circulation until
to-day it exceeds that of anv country
weekly in Georgia. We do not
make this statement in a boasting
spirit, but to assure our friends that
we appreciate their liberal support,
and shall never do aught to forfeit
their patronage and good opinion.—
We have no aspirations beyond mak
ing a success of the paper, realizing
an honest income from the same,
and rendering to the public suclt ser
vices as may be demanded and ex
pected. Beyond these duties and
considerations neither pride nor am
bition leads us.
BROWN VS. GORDON.
The recent attacks of Ex-Governor
Brown upon Senator Gorilon through
the columns of ihe Constitution have
fallen far short of their purpose.—
The people were lotn to believe that
their gailant leader would have been
a party to any intrigue by which his
people were sold out, and especially
when he hail fought usurpation so
stoutly on all hands, and had so le
cenlly advised and worked against
the acceptance by Congress of the
electoral commission bill. That they
were somewhat dumfounded when
the ex-Governor so ingeniously
argued the matter, cannot be doubt*
ed, but when Gordon wrote the Bil
lups letter, in which he so emphati
cally said, ‘‘the charge that I made
any bargain of any sort or hart any
understanding of any character with
Foster, whom I saw, or with Stanley
Mathews, whom I did not see until
after the inauguration, looking either
to the Presidential count or to the
action of any Democrat in ref. rence
to the future organization of the
House or parties, is basely false in
every syllable and in every sense,”
the people no longer had any hesi
tancy in deciding the question. The
press, so far as we have seen, and the
people, so far as we have beard,
unanimously sustain Senator Gordon.
The ex-Governor fired out of the
wrong barrel that time, although it
was under a nom de plume, and it
will take that gentleman years, with
all of his shrewdness and ingenuity,
to overcome this unwarranted attack.
—G rijfin News.
A SINGULAR COINCIDENCE.
In 1853 four gentlemen entered
their sons at a boarding school at
Cokesburry, in Sou'h Carolina.
They bad been for years intimate
friends, and were clergymen in the
Methodist church. These hoys re
mained at this school as room-mates
and class-mates for two years, and
entered Wofford College, standing
relatively first, second, third and
fourth. They temained at this insti
tution four years, and were room
mates all the time, graduating rela
tively first, second, third and fourth
in a large class. They entered a
law office at Spartanburg end
studied law uuder the same chancel
lor. The war broke out, and at the
call for troops they entered Jenkins’
rifle regiment from South Carolina,
and were mess-mates in the same
company. Being near the same
height, they stood together as com
rades of battle in this regiment. At
the second battle of Manassas, Au
gust, 18(58, a shell from a Federal
battery fell in the ranks of this com
pany, and killed these four men
(and no other in the company.]
They are buried on tin battle field
and sleep together in theßame grave.
Their names are Copers, McSwaitt,
Smith and Duncsu, and the sons of
liiahop Capers, Rev. I>r. McSwain,
Rev. I)r. Whilfnrd Smith and Rev.
Dr. Duncan, of Virginia, and the last
brother of Dr. Duncan, of Randolph
(Macon) College. The grave ia
marked by a granite cross enclosed
with mi iron railing,
Norwich Uullstin: The Rev.
Joseph Cook rather unnecessarily
asks, "What beuoinea of the wicked f ”
Mr. Cook, we thought, had been in
New England long enough to know
that usually they praetlco law for a
while and eventually go to the Leg
islature.
HAWKINSVILLE, GA., THURSDAY MORNING, MAY 24, 1877.
How She Came to have
Him.
“So you won’t have me, Nellie ?
Ycu are sure you won’t marry me ?”
Pretty little Mrs, Nellie Willard
looked meditatively out of the win
dow into the quiet village street, as
if among the leafless trees and on tbe
frost-bound landscape she should
find the answer to Horace Levison’s
question.
Then, after a moment, she turned
her face toward him—a face as fresh
and fair in its peachy bloom as
many a young girl’s ten years her ju
nior.
“I—l am—afraid I can’t, Mr. Lev
ison.”
Mr. Levison looked her straight in
the bright blue eyes—such lovely
blue eyes, soft as velvet, ami the col
or of a violet that has bloomed in the
shade.
“You are ‘afraid’ you can’t, Mrs.
Willard ? Answer me another ques
tion—yes or no: Do you love me?”
She tdushed and smiled, and looked
bewitchingly.
' “Why, Mr. Levison, I mean Harry,
of course I do—like you 1 I always
did ever since I first knew you, years
and years ago.”
“When Will Willard won the
prize all we fellows were striving for!
So you liked me then, Nellie, and
you like me now ? Then why won’t
you marry tne? You have been a
widow for three years now. Isn’t
that long enough to mourn for Will?”
“You wicked man! As if three
hundred years could ever teach me
to forget poor, dear Wilson.”
Her bright eyes reproved him
sharply, and lie accepted with good
grace.
“Granting the truth, Nellie, that
your deceased husband was a good
fellow and a loving partner, I still
cannot see why you refuse me. That
is the sutjeet under consideration at
present, Nellie! Why won’t you
marry me ?’*
Then Mrs. Willard’s face grew a
bttle paler, and her plump, fail
hands trembled.
“Because, Harry—because Wilson
Willard made me promise never to
marry again.”
“Nonsense! What if he did I A
bad premise is better broken than
kept.”
Mrs. Willard twisted her ring un
easily, and looked at the illuminated
shield of the stone.
“I know it is,” slie sai l; “but ”
Mr. Levison looked earnestly at
her.
“Yes—‘tut’ what, Nellie? In all
respect I say it—poor Will is dead
and gone, and you’ve been true to
Ins memory all these long yeais; and
what lias he to do with you now ?”
“1 know,” she said again, medita
tively, “but—but, Harry, lie made
me solemnly promise never to marry
again under penalty of his everlast
ing displeasure. And don’t be an
gry with me Harry, will you ? But
I almost know he would appear to
me!’’
“So you believe he would haunt
you, Nellie, if you broke your prom
ise ? A sensible little woman like
you to veritably believe in supersti
tious fol de-rol! And after having
waited for you ten years of your
married life, and three years of your
widowhood, you condemn me to
hopelessness for the take of such a
chimera—for the sake of such a
shadow as your husband's ghost!”
And Nellie looked imploringly at
him again, and her lips quivered, and
the tears stood in great crystals on
her long lashes.
“O, Harry, how cruel you are !
You know I love you better than all
the world, only—l dare not marry
again 1 Don’t he angry—please don’t
be angry with me.”
And Mr. Levison looked down at
her lovely face, and assured her he
never could be angry with her, and
then went away thinking badly of the
husband who had burdened Lis love
ly young wife with such a promise.
*****
The last sunset rays were flinging
their golden and scarlet pennofis on
lh pale l.lue gray sky when Mr.
Levison opened the door of his cozy
sitting-room at home, to be met by
the laughing face and gay welcome
of a younger gentleman who had ev
idently been making himself at home
while he waited.
“Heigho, Levison ! Surprised to
see me ? How are yon, old fellow—
how are you
Mr. Levison started a second, then
greeted him warmly.
“Fred Willard! Where in the
name of goodness did you spring
from ? W by, I thought you were
not to 3nil from England for a good
six months yet. Old boy, bless you,
I am glad to see you, although for
an instant I confess 1 was startled
You are the living image of your
brother Wilson. We’ve keen discuss
ing ghosts, you know.”
Young Willard’s eyes gleamed
mischievously as he interrupted, ir
reverently—
“‘We’ is good, Lev. You mean
my lit le sister-in-law of course? 1
know she believes in ’em. lam im
patient to see Iter—for the first time
sineo Will’s funeral.”
Mr. Levison had been looking
thoughtfully at the cmbeis, glowing
like melted rubies behind the silver
bars of the grate. Now he turned
suddenly tc Fred, and laid his hand
persuasively on h.s shoulder.
“Look here, Fred, you are a friemi
of mine, and I am about to put your
friendship to a test. I want you to
do me a very great favor. Will
you f"
Fred laughed.
“Will If” Of course I will.
What’s up?”
And Mr. Levison turned the key
of the door, and the consultation
lasted until the housekeeper rang
the dinner bell.
Five hours later the moon was
just creeping over the tops of the
trees, making a perfect flood of s.l
ver-gold glory on the quiet scene,
and Mrs. Willard, with a fleecy
white zephyr shawl and her crepe
brown h&ir, was standing at the
kitchen door on her return from a
tour of inspection to the snug little
barn and carriage house whicli she
had personally seen was secure for
the night ever since her husband’s
death.
Her cheeks were flushed to the
tint of an oleander flower by the
keen kiss of the frosty air, and her
eyes glowing like blue fires as site
stood there one moment in the broad
band of white moonlight that lay
athwart the floor like a silent bless
ing.
Then, with a little involuutary ex
clamation at the perfect beauty of
the light, she went in and locked
the door after her, for her three ser
vants had all retired for the night,
and then gave a little shriek, fur,
standing in the self-same accustomed
place he was wont to occupy, and
looking as natural as if it were him
self in the flesh, was her husband.
She stifled her shriek, and tried
bravely to feel brave, but her heart
was tearing around very undisei
plinedly as she realized that she was
looking upon a bonefide ghost—a
veritable iniiabitant of the land of
eternal shadows.
“Will 1” she said, faintly, with her
hand tightly on the handle of the
door.
“Will, is it you ?”
His voice was precisely as it had
been in the old days—rn.llow; musi
cal, a little domineering—Will’s Un
deniably, unmistakably.
“Y\ ho should it be but me, Nellie,
and come on purpose to communi
cate witli you.”
“Yes ?” she gasped ; “but what
for ? I have tilt'd—l have done
everything that I thought you would
wish. There is nothing wrong,
Will ?”
The pale, moonlighted face, the
speckless black suit, the spotless
linen, the very same in which he had
been buried, the low, familar voice—
it almost paralyzed Nellie, and yet,
aided by the very material coutactof
the door-knob, she stood her ground
and listened.
“Nothing is wrong with you, Nel
lie, but with me. 1 can’t rest iii injl
grave knowing the wrong I uninten
tionally committed in binding y®u to
perpetual widowhood ior my sake.
I come to revoke my decision, to
give you my full permission to mar
ry again, and my advice to matry
Horace Levison. Promise me you
will do it, and I will rest peacefully
forever.”
“0 Willi If you say so—if you
think it best—yes!—yes, I will!”
Her face was pale enough now to
have passed for a ghost herself.
“Go look at the big clock in the
dining-room, Nellie, and see if it is
near toe slro .e of twelve.”
She went dumbly, mechanically,
at his behest; and when she came
hack he wa3 gone, and the moon
light streamed in on an empty room.
Then the reaction followed, and
Nellie flew up to her bedroom, locked
the door, covered her head with a
shawl, and sobbod and cried hyeteri
callv until her overwrought nerves
found relief in sleep.
The next day Mr. Levison sent a
little note over, apologizing for his
seeming discourtesy in not coming
to bid her good-hy on his sudden
departure for an indefinite time, and
telling her that her cruel decision
never to marry again had been the
cause of it, and that they might
never meet again, etc., etc.
To which Nellie, all pale, alarmed,
and crimson with confusion, penciled
an answer, assuring him she had
changed her mind, and begging him
to come over to luncheon with her,
to meet her brother-in-law, who had
only just arrived from abroad.
Of course Mr. Levison came, and
it didn’t take two minutes to settle
it. Nor did he laugh at her when
she solemnly related her experience
of the night before.
“For it was his ghost, Harry, just
as true as I am alive and speaking to
you I”
“A jolly old—l mean a thought
ful, painstaking spirit, Nellie 1 Bless
his ghostship, we’ll hold him in eter
nal remembrance.”
Nor did his countenance change a
feature even when he and Nellie and
Fred Willard discussed the marvel
ously obliging kindness of Will.
Nor did pretty, blooming, blush
ing Mrs. Nellie ever for a moment
dream that her visitant was Fred
himself, assisted by a wig and false
whiskers—nor was there any need
she should know, for her happiness
was secured and her conscience at
ease.—Danbury Netvs.
It has already been surmised that
the Russian fleet in the Atlantic wa
ters was sent there to keep watcli on
the British merchant marine it Great
Britain should undertake to inter
fere in the Eastern scrimmage, and
now it is telegraphed all the way
from London to one enterprising
journal that the Russian tnen-of-war
now at San Franeisco are to attack
and seize British Columbia just as
soon as Great Britain is drawn into
the trouble.
A Scotch clergyman was seen by
a neighbor trudging home on Mon
day morning with a stout fish he had
just bought, and was accosted with.
“Mr. Duncan, did you know that
that fish was caught on Sunday ?”
The minister, in his characteristic
blunt manner, replied, “Well, well,
the fish is not to blame for that, tny
man.”
“I say Faddy, that is the worst,
looking horse you drive I ever saw.
Why don’t you fatten him up?"
“Fat him up, ia it? Faix, the poor
baste esn hardly carry the little
mate that’s on him now,” replied
Poddy,
Bessie and Luke.
A STAGE DRIVER’S STORY.
The stage driver was a rough
looking giant, his big paws hidden
away in lox-skin gloves, and his body
well covered by a buffalo skin over
coat. He flung the mail into the
|Mgh, untied the ponies, and his
wo-it of‘-All aboard” brought out a
fplitaiy traveler for the cold ride of
eighteen miles over the snow covered
hills of WisC"nsin.
“Weather is breakin’ a little just
now, but it has been awful on this
route,” remarked the driver as the
ponies got away. “I kin git long
fust rate with five degrees below,
but when it comes to ten in the val
leys there’s a good fifteen on the
hills, an’ the wind e’enamost. cuts the
ponies in two.”
Wisconsin winter weather never
makes a failure, and when a snow
storm begins there is no let up until
the heavens have sent the last flake.
The snow was two feet deep on eith
er side of the single track in the cen
ter of the highway, and where the
wind had good sweeps there were
drifts covering the fences, with sev
eral feet to spare.
No other teams came after—none
were encountered. The fierce cold
was too much for farmers and ordi
nary travelers. The United States
mail had the track to itself. Wrap
ped in furs, blankets ahd robes, and
with hot brictis, steaming away in
the %>”aw, stage driver and traveler
rode in silence for miles. By-and
by, as the ponies slackened their
pace a little to.climb a long hill, the
driver pointed to the right and
asked :
**D’ye see that log house up thar.
Bar it in mind an’ I’ll tell ye a sto
ry.”
It was a gloomy pile of logs, cur
tains down over the windows and
snow drifted clear to the sills, and
most of the land around it was sterile
hill or tangled thicket. Over the
hill and half a mile beyond, and the
driver pointed again and said:
“An’ now take a peep at that place
an’ I’ll begin my story.”
It was a small frame house this
time, partly surrounded by a wind
break of poplar trees. The house
was old and weather beaten. The
windows were covered with frost, the
path to the gate was hidden by drifts,
and the only living thing to be seen
was a poor old horse standing on the
lee side of a hedge, his ribs could
be traced clear from the road, and lie
greeted the ponies With a neigh, tell
ing of hunger and lonesomeness.
“Three weeks ago,” begun the
driver, as he cleared his throat,
“•both o’ them places were full of
cheer. The one back there held an
old man, his wife, an’ handso.r.c
daughter, an’ this one was occupied
by a bachelor named Luke Warner.
1 don't know how he came to live
here alone, but here he was an’ he
not only worked hard and took good
care o' things, but he had a bite to
eat for all beggars an’ a good word
for travelers. Them folks back in
the log house were kinder now to
this section. I’ve hearn tell he wa3
a broken down merchant, who had
to give up everything an’ leave New
York. I saw him dozens o’ times,
and he was high headed, even if he
was poor. He walked along like a
lord, and he wouldn’t notice such as
me.”
The diiver pulled the robes away
Iron) his mouth a little more, and
went on:
“Crack to grashus! hut didn’t they
have a handsome gal ? She was as
trim as an angel, handsome as a June
day. and it was natural that Luke
should fall in love with her. He was
at least thirty-five, an’ neither good
lookin’ nor educated, but you can’t
tell when a gal is goin’ to love or
hate. 1 ’spent it riled the old folks
to think slie’d take up with a farm
er, an’ I suppose they forbid him
cornin’ there, leastwise that was the
talk along the road last fall. Luke
pegged away same as ever, an’ the
gal didn’t look any the less handsome
as I saw her at the gate. As winter
set in, I didn’t see much of any of
them, and by-and-by the gossip began
to die nut.”
“How old was the girl?” asked the
traveler.
“'Bout eighteen or nineteen, an’
she had hair like gold. It just makes
my heartache to remember her. Well
it seemed that her an’ Luke were
bound to marry. The old folks
wouldn’t give in, an’ Luke fixed it to
be married down here a bit at the
big red farm house. The preacher
was to be there, a crowd was cornin'
to dance, an’ the gal was to slip
away flora home an’ come down
with Luke, kinder hand-in-hand, as
the newspapers say. The gal got
away in the evening’, walked over to
Luke’s an’ he had his horse and
sleigh ready. It was the fust snow,
but not very good running. They
got started all right, happy as two
doves, but they had only turned out
o’ the yard when it began to snow.
I was out in it, too ; an’great snakes!
how it did come down I It just
dropped down in chunks an’ patches,
an’ in half an hour the road was out
o’ sight under six inches o’ snow, an’
the wind was dingin' it ten feet high
wherever it could strike.”
The driver looked back over the
lonely road, drew a long breath and
went on:
“The Lord only knows how it
came about, but Luke’s horse fell
into the ditch and broke his leg, an’
then the lovers sot out on foot. They
went right agin the drefful srorra,
determined to reach the red farm
house. Right ahead here, just half,
way between the houses, is
found ’em. The storm raged for
thive days, an’ in some places the
drifts wore ten feet high. . When it
cleared nwuy the gal was missed,
Luke was missed, an’ a gang of us
sot out to ssarcli the road. We found
the horse, dead an’ stiff an’ then we
knew it was ail up with the children.
We had an awful time diggin’ through
the drifts an trackin’ the pair, an
just under this hill here Is whaf we
dug ’em cut. How d’ye s’pose we
found ’em ?”
He waited half a minute for the
answer that didn’t come, and then
said:
“May the Lord bless Luke War
ner 1 When the snow got deep he
had taken that gal on his back.
When he found she was freezin’ to
deatti he had taken off his coats and
put them around her, and his vest
was buttoned around her head to
take the place of her lost hat. He
stripped right to his shirt sleeves,
sir. to save that gal, an’ 'no man
could have done more. When the
snow got tot) deep he stopped, an’
crouchin’ agin the fence, with the
poor gal’s face close to his an’
their hands clasped, death came down
through this lonesome valley an’
took ’em. It was an awful sight, sir,
an’ the gal's father took on so that
men had to hold him. The neigh
bors had to lay out the corpses an’
bury ’em, an’ it was right to put ’em
both in one grave. The mother
went dead over it before the grave was
covered, an’ the father is gone no
one knows whar. It’s awful to think
of, sir, an’ when I git to remember
in’ all about it, such a lump comes
up in my throat that I can’t talk.”
Thje traveler looked up into the
rough giant’s face, ahd two tears,
frozen to ice by the bitter wind
rested on his cheeks.
“An’ I just believe,” whispered the
man, after a long pause, and point
ing heavenward with his whip, “that
Bessie an 1 Luke are the brightest
angels of the whole crowd yonder.”
TWO TERRIBLE FRIENDS.
The Eureka (Nev.) Sentinel tells a
good story on one of the boys who
lives at Mineral Mill, and who hap
pened to arrive in town during the
progress of a ball. His social in
stincts prompted him to attend, hut
his attire was not quite up to the
mark, and he applied to a friend for
the loan of the necessary articles of
apparel. The friend consented witl:
some reluctance, and, arrayed in bor
rowed plumes, our hero engaged in
the festivities. The owner of the
garments watched him as he threaded
the ma*y dance, and after it was
over, arid he had ensconced himself
in a seat by the side of a fair charm
er, approached him and broke loose
with the following remark: “See
here, D , them pants is new-, and
I wish you wouldn’t set down and
makekmes in them.” D came
very near fainting with mortification,
and abruptly left the hall, followed
by a sympathizing friend who had
overheard the remark and felt sorry
for his embarrassment. D strip
ped off those pants, and, aft :r much
solicitation,’ accepted the loan of an
other pair from his new-found friend,
and, after some hesitation, returned
to the ballroom and soon forgot his
troubles in the smiles of the compa
ny ot tiie fair dancers. A polka .was
called on. He was on the floor with
the belle of the evening, skipping
and bopping as gracefully as that ex
hilarating dance would permit, until,
out of breath, he promenaded, with
his fair partner on his arm, in close
proximity to the owner of the breech
es, who had been looking on in evi
dent delight at the abandon of the
wearer, and as he came by him he
gave vent to his pleasure by slap
ping D on the back and exclaim
ing: “Go it, old fellow; bnrst thun
der out of the breeches if you want
to , I don’t care a cent as long as
you enjoy yourself.” D drop
ped his partner and rushed to the
depot just in time to catch the train.
WASTED TO BE TREATED.
A San Francisco corn doctor was
summoned by a man who lived four
miles out of the city. Hastily gath
ering up his case of instiumeuts, files
and acids, he walked through the
pouring rain to the address indica
ted, and was shown into the parlor.
The physician sent up his card, and
shortly after the door opened, and a
florid man, with unsteady legs, en
tered the apartment. “How do,
Doc? Take a seat. Didn’t think
you’d come out in this rain, but you’re
a regular brick, and I knew it when
I read your eard. I wish you'd come
and live out here. The whole neigh
borhood are a set of darned teetotal
ers.” The practitioner opened his
case of instruments, and asked his
patient to put his foot on a chair.
The man assented, remarking that he
never felt more comfortable in his
life. He resented, however, all ef
forts of the doctor to pull off his
socks, and threatened to shoot him
for attempting to haul his boots off.
“How can I treat you unless I see
your corns ?” cried the chiropodist.
“Corns be biowed 1” answered the
dweller in the suburbs. “I ain’t got
no corns! Don’t your eard say,
‘Gentlemen trea'.ed at their own tes
idences ?’ and I sent for you because
I am out of liquor, and want some
brandy pretty quick.” There was a
cry of anguish as the doctor took his
largest file and rubbed all the skin
off his patient’s nose.
A Kentucky dentist undertook to
plug one of the teeth of a favorite
mule. He bored and bored until the
drill struck something that seemed
to lift the animal’s soul right off its
hinges. That’s the way the coroner
explained it, and since then a wild
mule has been galloping up and
down the country, seeking for fresh
worlds to conquer.
I
“Kiss me, Kate.” “>'o, sir-ee”
“Why not,Kate ? Do I not loveyn
better than anything esc?" “My
goodness gracious, I should think
so—what a foot you are, John.”
“Why go, Kate?” “Why, no sir-ee
means yea.”
MEXICAN OUTRAGES ON THE TEXAS
FRONTIER.
A New Style of Raid-General Ord Cross
ing tlie Border - Hcpartion Demanded
and a United States War Vessel will
See that It is Granted.
A Washington dispatch says : The
particular outrages on the Texas
frontier to which the attenti-n of the
Cabinet was called on Wednesday
by tlie President, are in some respects
different in their character from those
of which there has been so much
complaint during the lasr few years.
The raids of the cattle thieves have
been mostly across the Lower Rio
Grande, between Brownsville and
Laredo, and in one or two instance)
the banditti have penetrated into Tex
as to within a short distance of Cor
pus Christi, and destroyed houses
and stores. The outrages of which
complaint is now made have occurred
further up the river, in the vicinity
of Eagle Pass. It seems that a num
ber of Mexicans have established
themselves on Mexican territory, and
entered regularly into trade in stolen
American horses and mules. They
do not themselves undertake the cap
ture of them, but employ a number
of Indians for the purpose.
Their plan of operations is to so
licit orders in the interior of Mexico
for horses and mules, and when a
sufficient number have accumulated
to make an incursion profitable, Mex
ican spies are sent over into Texas
to discover the position of the United
States troops,jn order that the raid
ers may avoid them. Then the In
dians are sent across the river and
capture every horccor mule that they
can find and that is worth taking
awry. The owners are left dismount
ed, and are, therefore, u.iable to pur
sue tite thieves, or even to give an
alarm generally until it is too late for
the Indians to be captured.
General Ord lias been doing every
thing in his power to break up these
raids, but has been unable to do so.
It is reported that in several instances
he has taken the responsibility of
crossing the Rio Grande river with
his troops and pursuing the raiders
on Mexican territory, but he has di
rected his subordinate officers not to
enter any town on the Mexican side.
The orders hrfve apparently been
learned by the Mexicans, and so on
one or two recent occasions when
United States troops have been in
pursuit of raiders the latter have
been turned back without making a
capture.
These facts and many more of a
similar character were laid before the
President by Mr. Schleicher on Wed
nesday last, with the letteis and oth
er documents sustaining his asser
tions. Mr. Schleicher is very much
encouraged at the attitude of tlie ad
ministration towanl the Mexican
question. HesaysMtal the prompt
action of the Cabinet on the subject
of the raids is not the only indication
of a change of policy. The manner
in which Secretary Evarts has dealt
with the Acapulco affair is also in
strong contrast with that pursued by
the last administration. Under Gen
eral Grant, if an American citizen
was captured or maltreated by the
Mexicans and after some delay was
released, no demand for reparation
was ever made; and Colonel Schleich
er says that Minister Foster was
,rauch more likely to he directed to
convey to tlie Mexican Government
the thanks of the United States for
releasing the prisoner than to make
any complaint. In tlie Acapulco
affair the release of tlie American
Consul has not been considered by
the administration as a satisfactory
ending of the matter. Reparation
has been demanded and a United
States vessel of war has been sent
there to see that it is granted. A
vigorous policy of this kind is much
more likely to command the respect
of the Mexicans than a timid or va
cilating one.
A RACE FOR LIFE.
Four Children thrown by tboir Father
to a Fuck of Wolves.
A curious and distressing case has
recently been under the consideration
of the police at Moscow. A few
months ago a Russian peasant, with
his wife ami four children, were trav
eling in a sleigh along the banks of
the Frutli, when they were pursued
by a pack of wolves. The peasant
urged on the horses a9 much ns he
could, hut soon perceived the borri
ble fact that the wolves were fast
gaining upon them. At the moment
when the sleigii was surrounded by
the ravening beasts, the man seized
one of tlie children, threw it in the
midst of tlffem, and while the wolves
were struggling over their prey he
hastened on his horse3 and gained
ground. Four times the wolves came
up with the fugitives and four times
the horrible sacrifice was completed.
At last the peasant and his wife ar
rived at the nearest village, leaving
behind them the bones of their four
children. In the bitterness of her
despair the mother informed against
her husband, but the Judges, consid
ering that if the peasant bad not re
signed himself to the horriule sacri
fice, lie would not only have lost his
children, but also his wife, acquitted
the prisoner.— London Echo.
Detroit Free Press : The man who
invented the Gatling gun has now
brought out a still belter thiug. It
is a cannon which shoots ofT 1,000
balls per minute and the faster a sol
dier dodges the more times he will
be hit and knocked into the middle
of next week.
“Pompey,” said oue darkey to an
other, “what am a crowners ’quest ?”
“Well, de fac is, n'gger, a crowner's
’quest am a lot of fellers *■ hat sits
down on a dead man, to find out for
•ai tain whether he am dead, or ouiy
playing possum.”
NO. 21“
LYNCH LAW IN MtSSOtJKI.'
On Wednesday night, April 25,
n parly consisting of five persons
went to the house of Mr. J. 13. Huff,
who liv'es about five miles north of
Walker, aud called for Mr. Huff to’
come out.' Mr. Huff got up and
went to the door, and asked what
was wanted. One of them spoke and.
said: ‘“Come here, we want to see
you.” Mr. Huff then wanted to knoav
who they jvfere, and ah answer cairie
back that they were friends. Mr.
Huff did not heed the Call, but
closed the door and locked it, and
getting his shot gun went back td
the door and told them that if there
was anything wanted for one of them
to come forward and make tkeif
wants known. One of the party ad
vanced to within eight feet of the
house, apparently disarmed, and
asked Mr. Huff'if there was a man in
tlie house by the name of NeilsoiU
Upon being informed by Mr. Huff
that there was such a man there, he
told Mr. Huff that he wanted to see
him. , He was given the privilege of
entering the house, and on finding
Neilson, he remarked : “1 have coino
for you, dresS joilrseif in a hurry,”
Mr. Huff then wanted to know what
Neilson had done and what they
wanted with him, but no reply was
made to his interrogations, but was
ordered to get a lamp light it;
By the tine Mr. Huff got the lamp
lighted Neilson was dressed and was
hurried out of the room bv the party
who came afu-r him. Mr." Huff sai-s
that Neilson did not refuse to go(
nor utter a word from the time he.
got his orders until lie left. After
he was taken out of the house the
party ordered Mr. Huff to keep It is}
head inside of the house or ho would
get it shot off'. Neilson was taken
about a quarter of a mile from Huff’s
house to what is known as the How
ard grove, about five ndlea llorth of
Walker, and was hanged to a sm all
tree, where he was found the next
day. A note was pinned on hrs
back with something like ths follow
ing written on it: “This man has
been connected with a gang of
thieves, and anyone troubling them
selves about this matter will have
meted out to them a like punish
ment.” Neilson was a man respected
by all who knew liiin, had beeh fiv
iug in the neigborliood of Walker
for the past five years, and was very
industrious, quiet and honorable, but
addicted at times to drinking. He
was by birth a Norwegian Nevada
(Mo.) Ledger.
SHE DIDN'T STAND UP.
At one of the Detroit churches
where a revival is in progress, the,
clergyman asked those who wanted'
to be prayed lor to stand up. Quite
a number rose to their feet, and af
ter services were closed, one lady
was heard askiiig another at the
doofi:
“Why didn’t you stand up ?”
“0, I didn’t want to,” was the re
ply-
“ Why, you arc a very foolish wo
man. I wouldn’t have missed thfi
opportunity ior anything!”
“Opportunity for wliat?”
“Why, for standing up there and
showing your seal still sack I There
wasu’t another in the whole church !”
pinching ii eh Tied stockings.
A modest young lady was recently'
visiting with a friend at the house of
people with whom she had no previ
ous acquaintance, and remained to
dinner. Shortly after the company
was seated at the table, the young
lady was observed to turn red in the
face and push her chair slightly back
fiorn the table. The latter operation
was repeated several limes, and the
lady became more and more embar
rassed until she was relieved by the
company rising from the table. The
matter was explained when a 8-year
old hopeful of the hostess whispered
in the ear, “Mamma, just didn’t I
pinch that girl’s red stockings ?”
The Sundersville Herald says it
widow residing in that county, with
tlie aid of her fifteen year old daugh
ter, made last year, without assist
ance, nine hales cf cotton, and did
considerable picking for other par
ties. They also made and cribbed
two hundred bushels of corn.
The funeral of a Chinaman, who
was recently murdered in San Fran
cisco, seems to have been quite a
unique affair. Thu dead man held a
keen-edged carver in his hand, and a
yellow flag bearing the word “Ven
geance,” covered the coffin; A
mounted Chinaman rode at cacit
corner of the lieais, and Ah Qua
rode ahead to clear the road, lie
succeeded in running over a white
mat), injuring him severely, and gcU
ting himself arrested.
A humorous old gentleman, meet
ing once witli a young minister, was
informed that he would never reach
heaven unless he was horn again.
“I have experienced that change,’’
added the minister, “and now feel no
anxiety.” “And so you have been
born again,” said his companion,
musingly. “Yes, I trust I have.”
“Well,” said the old gentleman, eye*
ing him rather attentively j “I don’t
think it would hurt you, young man,
to be born once more.”
An Irishman, writing from Cali
fornia, says: “It’s an iihgant coun
try. The bed-bugs are as big as din
ner pots, while the fleas are used for
crossing creeks witli—one hop and
they are over with two oil tbeif
liaeks.”
“John,-stop yonr Crying,” said an
enraged father to his son who had
kept up, an intolerable “yell” lor the
past five minutes. “St..p, 1 say. do
you hear?” again repeated the father
after a few minutes, the hoy still cry
ing. “You don't suppose I inn
choke off in a minute, do you ?”
chimed in the hopeful urchin.