Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XL
Professional Directory.
attorneys at law.
*
ISAAC L. TOOLE,
ATTORNEY A T LAW,
Vienna, Ga.
Will practice in the counties of Hous
to, 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. tebl-tt
0. C. HORNE,
AtTOfeNEY AT LAW,
Hawkinsville, Georgia.
The Criminal practice, a specialty.
Jan. 4,1877. jan4-ly
WOOTEN & BUBBEE,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
VIENNA, GEORGIA.
aprl3-tf
C. C. SMITH,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
And Solicitor in EquitV,
kcVTLLE, --- - 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 all business
ten trusted to my care. inar22 6m
EDWIN MARTIN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
■ PERRY, GEORGIA.
Will give immediate and careful atten
tion to all business entrusted to him in
Houston and adjoining counties.
Office in Home Journal building on
public square. aprlß tf
ROLLIN A. STANLEY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
Dublin, Georgia.
Will practice in all the counties of the
©coaee Circuit. From long experience in
the Criminal Practice, much of his time
will be specially devoted to that branch of
his profession. feb24-tf
‘ JACOB WATSON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
* Hawkinsville, Georgia.
WILL practice in the counties of Pu
laski, Dooly, Wilcox, Dodge, Tel
fair, Irwin and Houston. Prompt atten
tion given to all business placed in my
hands. apr Stt*
LUTHER A. HALL,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
AND REAL ESTATE AGENT,
Eastman, Ga.
\XTILL practice in all counties adjacent
V T to the M. & B. railroad, the Su-
S rente Court of the State and the Federal
ourt of the Southern District ot Georgia.
For parties desiring, will buy, sell or lease
any real estate, or pay the taxes upon the
same in the counties of Dodge, Laurens,
Wilcox, Telfair and Appling. Office in
i he Court House. aprlstf
J. H. WOODWARD,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Vienna, Ga.
WILL practice in the Superior Courts
in the counties of Dooly, Worth,
Wilcox, Pulaski and Houston, and by
special contract in other courts. Prompt
attention given to collections. mch4tf
L C. RYAN. J. B. MITCHELL.
RYAN & MITCHELL,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW
AND REAL ESTATE AGENTS,
Hawkinsville, Ga.
WILL practice in the counties com
prising the Oconee Circuit, and in
the Circuit and District Courts of the
United States for the Southern District of
Georgia. feblltf
J. M. DENTON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
1 >RACTICES in the Brunswick Circuit
l and elsewhere by special contract.
Office at residence, Coffee county, Oa. P.
O. address, Hazlehurst, M. & B. R. R.,
Georgia. ieMtf
W. IRA BROWN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Vienna, Ga.
PRACTICES in the Superior Courts of
Oconee Circuit, and elsewhere in the
Stale by special* contract Collections
and other business promptly attended
to 8-18-ly
JOHN H. MARTIN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
AND REAL ESTATE AGENTS,
Hawkinsville, Ga.
PRACTICES in the Courts of Pulaski,
A Houston. Dooly, Wlioex, Irwin,
Telfair, Dodge and Laurens. may-tf
CHARLES C. KIBBEE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Hawkinsville, Ga.
WILL piactico in the Circu’i and Dis
trict Courts of the United States
tor the Southern District of Gcorga, and
n the Superior Courts of Houston, Dooly,
Pulaski, Laurens, Wilcox, Irwin and
Dodge counties. june 291 y
JOHN F. DELACY*,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
EASTMAN, GA.
Will practice in the counties of Pulaski,
Dodge, Telfair, Laurens, 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 his care. iunl7 tf
DR. T. F. WALKER. DR. F. M. JORDAN.
‘ Drs. Walker & Jdrdan,
Having associated themselves in the prac
tice of medicine, would respcctnilly offer
tlieir professional services to the citizens
of Cochran and vicinity. Office on Second
Street, next door to postofflcc. At night
Dr. Jordan can bo fouud m bis room in
the rear of his office. mals2 ly
HAWKINSVILLE DISPATCH.
RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION.
The Hawkinsville Dispatch will
bo mailed (postage free) to subscri
bers in any part of the United States
one year for two dollars. Six months
for one dollar.
A deduction of 25 cents will be
allowed each subscriber in a blab- of
and in a club of ten an extra
copy of the paper will be sent gratis
No credit subscribers taken; The
Dispatch has the largest bona fide
circulation of any weekly paper in
the State.
Geo. P. Woods,
tf Editor And Proprietor.
NO PAPER NEXT WEEK.
There will be no regular issue of
the Dispatch next week. A small
sheet, containing the legal notices of
the officers of the several counties
advertising in the Dispatch will be
issued, and on the following week we
will resume the regular issue of the
paper. It has been our custom for
the last SeVeh years to take the first
Week in July as a holiday.
Judge James M. Clark, of the
Southwestern Circuit, died on the
19th inst. at Americus.
The Montezuma Weekly says that
Mr. Wm. Brantley, who had a con
tract for putting headstones over the
dead Federals at Andersonville, lost
the entire profits by breaking one of
the stones, and having to pay $3.50
therefor.
After a heavy rain recently at Dah
lonega, the Signal says a small boy
“panned out fifteen or twenty large
particles of about a half
gallon of earth scraped up in front of
the court house.”
North Carolina has paid for fer
tilizers within the last twelve months
$3,000,000; Georgia, $2,000,000. Vir
ginia probably more,
•Josh Billings says he knows peo
ple who are so fond of argument that
they will stop and “dispute with a
guide-board the distance to
the next town.”
A country editor notified his sub
scribers that before he discontinued
sending their papers all past dues on
them must be paid up. A number of
subscribers declared that they would
continue taking the paper rathar than
pay for it.
—m ♦ '
The Franklin Register has the fol
lowing educational item: “During
the examination of colored teachers
in Franklin Institute on Saturday
last, in reply to the question : “Men
tion the Various races of mankind ?”
A Modoc, celebrated more for physi
cal stamina than mental calibre,
wrote : “Three—the white man, the
nogro, and the Republican.” He
didn’t pass.”
The Oglethorpe Echo says: “Mr.
Jesse Maxey, of Maxey’s in this
oounty, was born in the year 1795.
In 1813 he found a swarm of bees,
and has still hives from the same
stock. Mr. M. works regularly in
the field, and frequently on Sunday
walks five miles to church. He is
one of our best citizens, and last
Tuesday polled his vote for conven
tion.”
When you see a young fellow who
a year ago used to step up and order
lager for the crowd with the utmost
sang froid, patiently trundling a ba
by carriage along the street on Sun
day afternoon, and looking chapfall
en In his last season’s hat, don’t it
speak volumes for the reformatory
influence of woman’s society ?
A method by which persons with
short memories may sing songs which
have been partly forgotten, and also
supply rhymes, is suggested by the
following:
Oh, li I had a lumty turn lumty turn too,
In tlis land ot the olive and fig,
I would sing of the lurati ti m lum to you
And play on the thing-umy-jig.
And if In the lumty turn battle I fall,
A tumti turn’s all that I crave ;
Oh, bury me deep in the whatryou may
call,
And plant thingumbobs o'er my grave.
“How oft the cherished hope of
years, when realized, turn to ashss in
the grasp. Take, for instance, the
case of the man, who, after years of
labor, was elevated to a country post- #
mastership only to find himself, on"
the first day in office, confronted by
a Granger, with the perplexing in
quiry of “How much postage it
would take to send a live calf through
the mail ?”
A bad, bad boy, was picked up by
his ma, the other night, for some
misdeed, and tanned with her slipper
until'he thought he was standing
right in the way of- a shoe-maker’s
shop caught in a cyclone. When he
got awayat last, he was told to sit
down and learn a verse in his Bible
before he could have a bit of supper,
and when he was called up to reeite
he said: “The wicked’s tanned in
slippery placos.”
Never fear a man who threatens
you with an injury ; the silent enemy
is the most dangerous.
hawkinsville, ga., thhrsd
ANOTHER HORRIBLE CRIME COM
MITTED.
Finding of a Headless Corpse Near Ander
sonville-
The Americus RepublicaU of
the 16th isnt. publishes the follow
ing:
On Thursday afternoon Mr. Jor
dan Dykes, while fishing along the
banks of Lightwood Knot Creek, a
small stream flowing three miles
south of Andersonville, came across
the headless body of a chite man-,
entirely naked, at a point kiiown as
Dykes’ old mill place. One leg rest
ed on the edge of the bank and the
other portion of the corpse was lying
in the stream. A s the remains were
considerably decomposed, it was evi
dent that the tragedy occurred some
ten or fifteen days previous to the
discovery of the body by Mr. Dyks.
From appearances the unknown vic
tim of this mysterious murder must
have been fully six feet high and
weighed probably about 160 pounds.
The strangest and most mysteri
ous part of this horrible affair is
that the perpetrator or perpetrators
of the foul deed had built a fire on
the bank of the creek, but a few
yards from the point where the
ghastly trunk was found, and en
deavored to burn up and forever
destroy the clothes of the victim.
In this effort they were happily not
altogether successful. The parties
who visited the scene with the cor
oner discovered the tra^kof the fire,
over the remains of whiSßiome dirt
had been thrown, but which the re
cent rains had washed off in a meas
ure, and bjf carefully examining the
heap of ashes and dirt they succeeded
in finding several small portions of
the clothing which the fire had not
consumed. Among these was a
small piece of striped cottonade,
evidently a portion of the pants, a
piece of cloth Which has the appear
ance of broadcloth, some silk lining
of a coat, and also the buttons of a
sfiirt and the iron frames of some of
the coat buttons.
A PRINTER’S DREAM.
A printer sat in his office chair.
While sadly thinking of business
debt, old Morpheus slowly tound
him crept, and before he knew it he
soundly slept; and sleeping, he
dreamed that he Was dead, from
trouble and toil his spirit fled, and
that not even a cow-bell tolled for the
peaceful rest of his cow-hide soul. As
be wandered among the shades,
the smoke and scarce in lower
hades, he shortly observed an iron
door that creakingly hung on hinges
ajar, but the entrance was closed
with a red hot bar, and Satan him
self stood peeping out, and watching
for travelers thereabout, and thus to
the passing printer spoke, “Come in,
my dear, it shall cost you nothing
and never fear; this is the place
where I cook the ones who never
pay their subscription sums, for
though in life they may escape, they
will find when they’re dead it is too
late; I will show, you the place
where I melt them thin, with red hot
chains and scraps of tin, and also
where I comb their heads with broken
glass and melted lead, and if of re
freshments they only think, there’s
boiling turpentine for them to drink;
there’s the red hot grindstone to
grind down his nose, and red hot
rings to wear on his toes, and if they
mention they don’t like fire, I’ll sew
them up in a red hot fire; and then,
dear sir, you should see them squirm,
while I roll them over and cook to a
turn.” With these last words the
printer awoke, and thought it all a
practical joke, but still at times so
real did it seem, that he cannot be
lieve it was all a dream; and often he
thinks with a chuckle and grin, of
the fate of those who save their tin,
and never pay the printer.
KILLED BY LIGHTNING.
The Macon Telegraph of the 21st
inst. says t
Mr. Calvin Broach, a well known
citizen of Jones county, and bis horse
were killed by lightning on Monday
last under the following circumstan
ces : He was plowing a short distance
from his house, and because of threat
ening rain, had taken out his horse
and started to the bouse, when a flash
of lightning killed him and the horse.
His son was about fifty yards from
him but when he reached him life was
extinct. His hat and shoes were lit*
erally torn to pieces and his hair
singed, though his body nor clothes
were injured.
AN UNLUCKY MAN.
The unhappy Kentuckian, who bet
on every race during the week and
lost every time illustrates the freaks
Gf fortune in this respect. He had
just SSO left, and in sheer despera
tion cried out in the crowd that
assembled at the hotel after the
races: “I’ll bet SSO 1 can name two
men hero with twenty-three fingers.”
When the bet was taken, this child
of fate continued : “Anybody’ll do.
Here, my friend, I’ll take yon, I have
thirteen fingers and you have ten,
that makes twenty-three. I knew
there was one bet I could not lose.”
The stranger gazed at him a moment
with a pitying expression, and then
said compassionately: “Well, I’m
sorry for you. You have struck a
hard streak of luck, I had three of
my fingers shot off at Chickamauga 1”
—Nashville American.
A country paper says that the oth
er day an Irishman was called up in
a case of assault and battery, and
when asked by the magistrate what
he said, remarked, “I said to him wid
dc toe of my boot, “Go home”
My Punishment.
BY M. B. w. H.
“Just fifty dollars. Neville, only
fifty 1 You’ll never miss it,*’ I plead
ingly said to my husband.
“Mary, you know I would not will
ingly refuse yon anything, but I can
not spare fifty dollars just now.”
• “Oh, pshaw! You don’t Wish to
gratify me—that’s all I”
I spoke hastily, half angrily,
“That is unjust; Mary;” he replied;
in a low tone. “You do not know
how much I need it, or you would
not insist.”
. “Then would you have me go to
the opera looking like a fright, or
stay at home and make a hermit of
myself?”
I turned from him and walked to
the window. In a moment he fol
lowed iiie, and placing a fifty dollar
bill on the window sill before me,
said kindly:
There is the money, Mary, but I
would rather have you remain at
home to-night. Mr. and Mrs. Win-,
throp are hot fit companions for you,
dear.”
I made him no reply, nor turned
to teli him good-bye, and in a mo
ment I heaid the street door close,
and I was alone. I did not sit down
to think, for fear I should waver in
my resolution. I had made up my
mind to go to the opera with Mrs.
Winthrop, and I would go, if only to
let my husband see that he could
not control me in evertkihg, even the
selection of my own associates. So
I threw on my wrapping, went out
and bought an opera cloak of the
richest material that I could find,
and when the carriage called for me
at six o’clock I was ready.
“O, what a superb mantilla I”
were the first words that Mrs. Win
throp spoke to me when I took my
seat in the carriage. “Viunie Brown
has one exactly like it; she tells me
t.iat it cost her fifty dollars.”
I replied by answering the ques
tion insinuated, —
“I gave that sum for mine.”
■To be fi-ank, I felt jtist the slight
est twinge of conscience as I made
the acknowledgement. A drive ot
about twenty minutes brought us to
the opera house, the conversation
meanwhile being made up of bits of
flattery on Mrs. Winthrop’s part,
and, on my own, words vaguely ex
pressing the sense of gratification I
experienced by her meaningless
phrases. The music was certainly
as grand as I had ever heard but
strange to say, I was not an atten
tive listener. My costly cloak and
dress I knew were duly appreciated
and admired, but for all this I felt ill
at ease, and was beginning, in spite of
myself to think seriously, of tny con
duct. I could listen to my con
science now, after I had reached the
climax of my desires, and accom
plished a forbidden purpose. In
thought I lived again the five brief
years of my married life. Had Ne
ville ever given me an unkind word ?
Never. Had he ever refused me any
request, whether trifling or impor
tant? Was he not now the same
lover-like, tender husband that he
Was five years ago, when he brought
me, a bride, to a neat little cottage
on the outskirts of the town, saying,
ash 5 led me through the rooms,
“ ’Tis plain and humble, Mafy, but
with your presence to brighten it,
’twill be a little paradise to me.”
I was content with it then—con
tent to reign queen of my husband’s
heart and of our little dominion,
home. But in a year or two the ser
pent crept into our Eden, and I be
came its dupe.
I loved society, and was too easily
drawn into that whirpool that ruins
thousands—a life of fashionable
gayety. The consequence was, that
when I came to compare my own
humble cottage with the handsome
dwelling of some of ray friends, it
lost all its olden beauty and cheer
fulness. I grew discontented, and
finally fancied myself really unhappy.
So I coaxed Neville to leave our lit
tle vine-coyered cottage and rent a
handsome house in the heart of the
city. He consented with extreme
reluctance, after vainly endeavoring
to show me the necessity of remain
ing where we were for a time at least,
until he was better established in
business.
Now the music had become an an
noyance, and I longed to return
home, throw myself into his arms,
and ask his forgiveness for all my
petulance and waywardness. I could
bear it no longer, and whispering to
Mrs. Winthrop, I pleaded indisposi
tion, and begged that she would ex
cuse me. Her husband ordered the
carriage, assisted me in, and we were
soon driving homeward.
Why were all those rooms lighted ?
I queried, as I noticed, while yet
some distance away lights gleaming
from the windows of the several
apartments of my home. As we
neared the house, I could see that the
lights were moving, being carried by
persons running hither and thither
through the house, seemingly in the
utmost confusion. A great, wild, in
describable fear tugged at my heart,
and, scarcely waiting for the vehicle
to stop its motion, I sprang to the
sidewalk and rusted into the hall.
I met four jr five persons coming
out. I did not notice them, bnt passed
breathlessly up the stairway. On the
landing I met the housemaid, her
face blanched with terror.
“What is it, Martha ?” I whispered,
hoarsely. “Where is Neville?”
“Oh, Mrs. Whatley 1 la it you ?”
she anxiously replied.
“Where is Neville 1” I almost
screamed.
“Li there,” the frightened crea
ture answered, pointing to the library
door,
I hurried to the door, but before I
could open it, a hand was laid heavi
ly on my arm, and a stranger’s voice
i>aid, excitedly,—.
MORNING, JUNE 28, 1877.
“Mrs. Whatley, you must not go
in there I” ,
“I must and will 1” I said hoarsely;
and jerking myself free fro in his
grasp, I threw back the lock, and
stood within the apartment.
Lying there before me, his pallid
face upturned to mine, was my Ne
ville, my husband, dead—dead I I
had come to seek his forgiveness Wo
late. Would to God that I could
say noW that unconsciousness foK
lowed this terrible shock; then would
I have been spared for a time at least
the hellish torment that followed. A
soul in perdition could scarcely have
suffered more.
I knelt by his side, called him by
the old endearing names, pressed
kiss after kiss on his lips and cheek
and forehead- But my wildest appeal
brought no ifesjtonse to those color
less lij, now forever and forever
sealed. *My Inning kisses fell on a
brow as cold as marble. I placed my
• hand above his heart. ’Twas hushed.
I smoothed the clustering locks from
his brow, and thus exposed a deep
gash, extending far back the skull,
and from which had been oozing a
ptlrple stream. The family physi
cian, whose presence I had not no
ticed, now name forward and re
placed the masses of hair over the
wound I had uncovered, and, taking
me by the arm, bade me follow him
from the room. I obeyed as passive
ly as a child.
“Can you bear to hear the full par
ticulars now, Mrs. Whatley?” he
asked, when seated in ailother apart
ment.
“What can I not bear ?” I replied.
“Have I not already borne that
knowledge which will becloud my
whole future, the very worst that
God could possibly send ? Yes, let
me hear it now.”
“About an hour ago, as Mr. What
ley was returning home, a pair or
mettlesome horses broke away from
their driver, and came dashing down
the street with frightful speed. Just as
he turned the corner they came full
upon him; one of the animals struck
him with his hoof; he lost his bal
ance and fell, his head striking the
curb stone violently, and causing his
death almost instantly.”
Then he died without a word for
me. The thought was keen with an
guish. •
Like one in a dream I followed
the remains of my husband to the
cemetery, and returned again to the
walls of my desolate home. Weeks
elapsed ere I became aware that we
had lived beyond our means, and
with this fact came the knowledge
that the fault was mine alone.
Twenty years have passed, dear
reader, since that night, twenty
years of remorse, grief and bitter
ness. What care I for the sunlight ?
It seems to mock mo as It falls
athwart my page. Have I not
darkened my life with an impene
trable shadow ! Twenty years 1 And
to-night I see before me, as plainly
as then, that sad, sweet, mournful
face, turning from me as he said, “I
would rather have you remain at
home to-night, Mary;’* and a few
hours later, that same dear face
ghastly with the pallor of death.
Reader, if you are a wife, may the
story of my punishment save you
from a similar fate. Close your
heart to the demons of anger and
discontent. Prize the smile of your
husband as your greatest reward, and
part not for a day nor an hour in au
ger. I would spare you the remorse
that embitters my life and enwraps
my heart In the barrenness of deso
lation.
Slow but sure.
The‘slow fighter’was a tall,’raw
boned specimen of the Pike County
breed, and when lie arrived in the
mining camp the boys began to have
fun with him—to ‘mill him,’ as they
call it m the parlance of the mines.
He stood it for a long time with
perfect equanimity, until finally one
of the party dared him out of doors
to fight.
He went. When they got all
ready and squared off Pike County
stretched out his long neck and pre
sented the tip of his big nose tempt
ingly close to his tormentor. ‘l’m a
little slow,’ he said, ‘and can’t fight
unless I’m well riled ; just paste me
one—a good ’un—right on the end
of that smeller I’
His request was complied with,
‘That was a good ’un,’ he said,
calmly ‘but I don’t feel quiet riled
yit’— (turning the side of his head
to the adversary)—‘please chug
me another lively one under the
ear 1’
The astonished adversary again
complied, whereupon Pike County,
remarking that he was ‘not quite as
well riled as he would like to be, but
would do the best he could,’ sailed
into the crowd, and for the next ten
days the ‘boys’ were engaged in
mending broken jaws, repairing
damaged eyes and tenderly resurrect
ing smashed noses New Orleans
Democrat.
“Seventy-five cents per gal!” ex
claimed Mrs. Partington, on looking
over the prices current. “Why,
bless me, what is the world coming
to when the gals are only valued at
seventy-five cents.” The old lady
pulled off her spectacles, threw down
her paper and went into a brown
study on the want of a proper ap
preciation of the true value of the
feminine gender.
It is not always a mark of frank
ness to possess an open countenance.
An alligator is a deceitful creature,
and yet be presents an open counte
nance, when in the very act of taking
you in.
-
"John, I fear yon are forgetting
me,” said a brighteyed girl to her
sweetheart the otbor day. “ Yce, Sue,
I have been for getting you these two
yeaxs.
JEfced Wine.
A TRUE STORY.
It was growing dark in the city
streets; men and women hurried
along, as if eager to reach comforta
ble homes ; the horses seemed to pull
heavy wagons with more willingness
than Usual; as if they too knew that
the day’s work was over, aud en
joyed the prospect of rest. The
lamplighters were going their rounds,
and trying to make up for the lost
daylight. Little children were safe
and warm at home.
All but one perhaps. A little boy
stood on the deserted sidewalks, close
to a great window of plate glass,
through which he gazed with rapt
face. The picture which he looked
at was a beautiful one. A great
room with painted ceiling overhead,
aud a chandelier which seemed to
make real sunshine. The walls were
covered with fine paintings. A mar
ble table, heaped with delicious food;
stood neat the centre of the room.
The bright lights struck through the
great decanter, and made a big crim
son stain on the white hand of a gen
tleman who was reading a newspa
per. A large diamond ring on one
finger seemed to wink and blink at
the little boy outside. “I wish he
would look up 1” the child was think
ing.
But though he waited and watched,
the man did not move for a long
time. Then he flung the paper down,
and reached out the hand with the
diamond for a wine glass, wh’ch he
filled and drank, never once looking
toward the window.
“Please, sir.”
That was all the boy said. He
had stepped from the street into the
wide hall; then, without stopping to
knock, he had opened the great door
which led into the gentleman’s room.
On the threshold of the saloon he
stopped, frightened at what he had
done.
“What is it, my small man ?’’
Arthur Leonard had a pleasant
smile which came easily to his hand
some face, but the child shrank back,
although he looked into the big
brown eyes as if he saw something
there he had been looking for a great
while.
“You come to beg, 1 suppose ?”
and the gentleman’s hand went read
ily into his pocket.
“Oh, no, sir, I never thought of
that—l wanted—l mean—please, sir,
I will go now ?”
He moved back awkwardly, but
Mr. Leonard stopped him with a
gesture. The child’s face interested
him. His’ manner, too, at first so
eager, now so embarrassed, had
aroused his curiosity.
“You are cold,” he said, noticing
that the child shivered, and that his
garments were thin and poor.
He rose, took the boy by the band
ant) led him to the grate-fire, which
was dancing on the hearth—a big,
jolly fire, which seemed trying to
light up the room and make the
chandelier notice how big and bright
it was.
Mr. Leonard did not seem to think
it queer for a little boy with patched
clothes to sit in one of the crimson
satin arm-chairs big enough for a
throne. He drew up one for himself
opposite.
“Are you hungry ?” he asked. “I
will give you something to cat, and a
little wioe will ■warm you up.”
“Oh, no, sir 1” and the child shrank
further back into the big chair.
“You will tell me your name, at
least 1”
“Yes, sir. My name is Eddie
Boynton, and I am ten years old.”
“Ah!” Mr. Leonard was smiling
now, as he saw the boy’s courage
coming back.
>‘You will not be angry with me,
sir?’*
“Angry f Why in the world should
I be angry with you ?”
“I didn't know but you might, sir,
if I said what I wanted to.”
“Never fear, Eddie, I am anxious
to know what ycu have to tell.”
The little boy stretched his little
thin hands, red with cold, out toward
the glowing fire, and said :
“I work in the dye house now, and
I get a good deal of money—a dollar
a week.”
Mr. Leonard could hardly help
laughing. The wine he had offered
the child cost more than that.
“I come past this big window
every night on my way home. I
shan’t come again, though, because
we’re going to move away. I like to
look in here because it is so warm
and pleasant, and because you are
sitting here and have eyes just like
my father’s.”
“What a strange child,” Mr. Leon
ard was thinking.
“He was so handsome and tall,”
went on the little fellow, looking back
in the firelight. “He wore nice
clothes, too, like yours; and we lived
in a great big house, most as big as
this. I used to sit next to him at the
table, and he gave me that to drink,”
pointing to the wineglass. “Mother
would cry sometimes, but he would
kiss her, and tell her that good wine
would make me strong and hand
some. One day he went away for a
long time, and mother cried all
the time he was gone. When he
came back he struck her, aud thou
fell down on the floor I screamed,
because I thought he was dead. The
black man, who drove tlie horses,
came up stairs and helped mother to
get him to bed. She said lie was
Sick. He used to scream and fight if
any one went near him. It was the
red wine that made him so, mother
said. Aud then one night he died,
aud there wa a grand funeral. We
haven’t got any large hortse, now,
only got two little rooms, now.
Mother sews for a Irving. Some
times she cries alt night.”
Mr. Leonard moved uneasily.-
“This is what you wanted to‘ tell
me ?”
“Yeß, sir. And I wish you would
not drink it as I ask it as a favor
from a little bay whose father loved
red wine.”
“I am goiug now, sir. Mother will
have my supper ready and be fright
ened if I don’t come.” And before
Mr. L. could rouse from hiasuiprise,
the boy was gone.
And now Mr. Leonard drinks no
more red wine, and he takes his little
boy and whispers, “God bless you,
my child, and keep us from the de
struction of the red wine.”
A REVOLUTIONARY HEROINE.
The following story is told of the
wile of the first Governor of Tennes
see, then only plain Capt. John Se
vier, in command of the fort on tne
Nolachucky. Near by was “Daisy
Fields,” the residence of M-. Sher
rill. One day a party of Indians
made a sudden descent upon the sta
tion and the frightened women fled
away in every direction. One tall
beautiful figure shot out toward the
fort with the speed of a deer. This
was Catherine Sherrill. She was a
woodland beauty, and famous
through the country for her courage
and agility. It is said “she could
outrun and outleap every other wo
man : could walk and ride more
gracefully and skillfully than any
other woman in the country.” She
surely had need of all.her powers
now. She was a prize the savages
wanted, and witli fierce yells they
sprang to intercept her. way. She left
the direct path, took a circuitous way,
came u p on the backsideof the fort, and
intending to scale the palisades
Gathering all her powers, she sprang
into the air. An officer was reaching
over the top to Catch and lift her in;
but his foot slipped aud both fell to
the ground, with the wall still be
tween them. A loud shout from the
Indians, as they felt the prize in
their hands, gave added strength to
the maiden’s limbs. She said when
telling the story in after years:
“Their bullets and arrows came like
bail; it was leap or die, for i would
not live a captive.” With one terri
ble effort she leaped into the air once
more, Cleared the palisades and came
doiVn into the arms of her future
husband.
The first thing this noble girl did
after her marriage was to make with
her own hands the suits worn by her
husband and his three sons at the
battle of King's Mountain. She vitas
peculiarly adapted to the require
ments of her position—that of the
highest lady in anew country. An
other attack was threatened soon af
ter her marriage, and families has
tened away to a better place of safe
ty. “I shall hot go,” said she,
though her husband was away in the
army; “the wife of John Sevier
knows no fear!” At another time a
large band of Tories came to the
house, determined to hang her hus
band. She hid him, and faced them
at the door. They threatened to
shoot her down if she would not tell
where her husband was.
“Shoot! shoot I” she cried ; “I am
not afraid to die! But remember
that while there is a Sevier upon the
earth, my blood will not be una
venged.”
OVERTAKEN BY JUSTICE.
In Newton county, Mo., Jesse U.
Lynch has been Sentenced to an im
prisonment of sixty years, and his
wife to one of thirty-three years.
Lynch was the founder and preacher
of anew religion, and pretended to
cure the sick by the laying on of
hands. The couple traveled with a
child which was taken sick! Lynch
affirmed that it was possessed by a
devil, and to drive out this evil spirit
he and his wife pitched the child
across a room to each other. The
poor thing frequently fell, striking
the floor, during this performance.
At last it struck a joist, which
crushed its skull and so killed it.
The fanatics were arrested, and
though a plea of insanity was set up,
they were convicted. The woman is
represented to be of prepossessing
appearance, and entirely under the
control husband’s will.
HOW THE QUARREL ENDED.
A Parisian and his wife quarreled
“I shall drown myself,” she finally
cried out, exasperated. “Go, if lam
all that deters you,” he answered
Still, he followed her, and when she
threw herself into the Seine, plunged
in'and brought her to land. Ashe
was climbing up the bank, however,
he slipped into the river, and, being
exhausted by his previous exertion,
was unable to save himself. Ilis
wife seeing his situation, plunged in af
ter him, but as she could not swim,
that was of no avail, and both must
hate been drowned had it not been
for the timely arrival of some police
men, who pulled them out. The pair
went home like two turtle doves.
The postmaster at Corpus Cliristi,
Texas, has refy properly decided
that the king snake, the deadliest
reptile in that region, is not legiti
mate mail matter. The serpent was
sent from San Diego to Corpus Chris
ti to be mailed abroad, and had there
fore already traveled a considerable
distance in charge of the mail carri
ers. Alligators are sometimes for
warded through the Post Office, but
when it comes to handling venomous
serpents, the-best natured postmaster
in the world may hesitate.
A negro woman was relating her
experience to a gaping congregation
ot color and among other tilings
‘said she had been in heaven. One of
the congregation asked her, ‘blister,
did you see any black folks in heav
en?” “Oh! git out—■’spose Igo in
de kitchen when 1 was dar ?”
Within two years Mrs.- Day, of
Pomfret, has brought three husbands
to the hymeneal altar, and there’s
no knowing what a Day may bring
forth.
NO. 26.
• THE LAST MAN.
A Cool Calculation of What His Fate
May Be.
What will become of the last man ?
Various theories that have been se
riously maintained by scientific men
are described in the Scientific Ameri
can, and we summarize them :
1. The surface of the earth is
steadily diminishing, elevated re
gions are being lowered and seas are
filling up. The land will at last b&
all submerged, and the last man will
be starved or drowned. 2. The ice
is gradually accumulating at the
North Pole and melting away at the
South Pole, the consequence of which
will be ail awful catastrophe when
the earth’s center of gravity sudden
ly changes.. The last man will then
be drowned by the rush of waters.
3. The earth canrtot always escape, a
collision w ith a comet, and when the
disaster comes there will be a ming
ling of air and cometary gas, causing
aii explosion. If the last man is not
suffocated lie will be blown up. 4.
There is a retarding medium in
space causing a gradual loss of
velocity in the plauets, and the earth,
obeying the law of gravitation, will
get closer and closer to the sun.
The last man will be sunstruck. 5;
Ihe amount of water on the earth
is slowly diminishing, and simulta
neously the air is losing in quantity.'
Finally, the earth will be an arid
waste, like the moon. The last man
will be suffocated. 6. Other suns
have disappeared, and ours must,'
sooner or later, blaze up and then
disappear. The intense heat of the
conflagration will kill every living
tiling oil earth., The last man wiil i><j
burned up. 1. The sun’s fire will
gradually burn out, and the temper
ature will cool. The earth’s glacial
zones will enlarge, driving our race'
toward the equator, until the habita
ble space will lessen to nothing. The
last man will be frozen to death. 8,
A gradual cooling of thfi earth will
produce enbrmous fissures; like those
seen in the moon. The surface will
become unstable, until the remnant
of humanity will take refuge in caves.
The last man will be crushed in his
subterranean retreat. 9. The earth will
at last separate into small fragments,
leaving the people without any food
hold. The last man will have a
dreadful fall thouJP space. 10. The
telitli theory, proving that there will
be no last man at all, is thus ex
pressed : “Evolution does not neces
sarily imply progress, and possibly
the race may have retrograded until
the human being possesses the nature
of the plant house; such being the
ease, this single inhabitant will spon
taneously produce posterity of both
sexesi”
THE SIIORTESf SeED ON RECORD.
In August, IT9G, after a few de
lightful days spent with their distin
guished relative, Capt. Lewis relates
that the following conversation took
place at the breakfast table on the
morning fixed for .his departure.
Washington was, as all the world
knows, a man of few words; ami
while he quietly partook of his fru
gal meal, the Conversation flowed
tiheerfnliy between the other mem:
liers of the family present. Sudden
ly his nephew turned laughingly to
him and said:
“Uncle, what do you think 1
dreamed last night ?”
The General replied lie could not
guess and asked to be told. Capt.
Lewis, continuing td laugh merrily,
replied :
“Why, I dreamed you gave me
your fdrill off Deep Bun.”
“Humph!” ejaculated his uncle.-
“You had better have dreamed I gave
you Mount Vernon.”
No more was said on the subject,
and Capt. Lewis had quite forgottoh
his unmeaning (froam as lie placed
his wife in the carriage and bade his
undo and aunt good-bye. Wash
ington followed him to the carriage,
and handed hifii a folded paper, say:
ing as he did so: “You can look at
that when you reach home.” Capt.
Lewis received the paper in aston
ishment, but could make no reply, as
the carriage rolled away. He might
have felt in duty bonnd to suffer the
pangs of cmiosity mi'il he reached
home, but his wife had no such con- -
scientious scruples; she had not been
forbidden to open it, and so she soon
succeeded in gaining possession of
the mysterious paper, and before
Mo tint Vernon was lost in the dis
tance, she discovered the fact fliat
they lmd left that modest dwelling
much richer than they were when
they entered it. Whether Washing--
ton had intended to bestow the Dee;*
Hun farm in his will upon his nephew,
and only hastened the time tff the
gift, or whether, with tho quiet
humor in which he rarely indulged,
lie thus proved tho dream of which he
had been told a practical reality, was
never known/ The deed was said to
be the shortest on record, and is as
follows;
I do by these presents give, and (if
deed of conveyance sholild not have
been made before) hereby oblige tny
heirs, executors and administrators
to fulfill, all the lands which I hold
on De.-p Run, or its branches, in tho
county of Fauquier, unto my nephew
Robert Lewis, and to his heirs or
assigns forever/
Given under my hand And seal this
13th day of August, 17G6.
Geo. Washington, [seat,.]
A poor old woman who had
worked and toiled for nearly three
score years, said if she didn’t think
she’d have rest in the next world,
slic'd tie a milbstmic aronnd her
neck, and jump Into the river, and go
to the bottom, and stay there as
long as she lived.
.Said the little pet of the house-hold
on her birthday, “It’s a lovely doll,
dear grandpa’, and grandma’ ! lint
biit—l’d been hoping it would V
'twvi? !■”