Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XI.
Professional Directory.
ATTOREKTS AT LAW.
ISAAC L. TOOLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Vienna, Ga.
Will practice in the counties of nous
ton, Dooly, Pulaski, Macon, Sumter and
■Worth. Also in the Supreme Court of
Georgia. and in the United Suites Circuit
end District Courts within the State. All
business entrusted to his care will receive
prompt attention. febl tf
"" 07 ( . HORNE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Havkiusville, Ga.
The Criminal Practice, a specialty.
January 4, 1877. jan4 ly
WOOTEN & BUSBEE,
attorneys at law,
VIENNA, GEORGIA.
aprlß-tf
C. C. SMITH,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
ANb 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.
Prom 1 it attention given to all business
entrusted to my care. mar 22 6m
EDWIN MARTIN,
ATTORNEY at law,
Perry, Georgia.
Will give immediate and careful atten
tion to all business entrusted to him in
Honstou aud adjoining counties
Office in Home Journal building on
public square. aprl2 tf
ROLLIN A. STANLEY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Dublin, Georgia.
Will practice in all the counties of the
Oconee Circuit. From long experience
in the Criminal Practice, much of his
time will be specially devoted to that
branch of Ills profession. teb24 tt
' JACOB WATSON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Hawkinsville, Georgia.
Will practice in the comities of Pulaski,
Dooly, Wilcox, Dodge,Telfair, Irwin, and
Houston. Prompt attention given to all
business placed in my hands. aprß tf*
JLUTHER A. HALL,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
_ AND REAL ESTATE AGENT,
Eastman, Ga.
Will practice in all counties adjacent
to flic M- & B. railroad, (he Supreme
Court of the State and the Federal Court
■of the Southern District of 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
the Court House. apr!s tf
J. H. WOODWARD,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Vienna, Ga.
TEXT ILL practice in the Superior Courts
T V in the counties of > ooly, Worth.
Wilcox, Pulas-i and Houston, anil by
sped;.] contract in other courts. Prompt
■attention given to all collections.
mcl)4 It
I C. RYAN. 'T. B MITCHELL.
RYAN & MITCHELL,
ATTORNEYS- AT LAW
AND BEAL ESTATE AGENTS,
Hawkinsville, Ga.
WILL practice in the counties com
prising the Oconee Circuit, and in
the Circuit and District Courts ot the
Uuited Statis for the Southern District of
Georgia. feblllf
J. M. DENTON,
attorney at law,
I >RACTICES in the Brunswick Circuit
1 and elsi where by special contract.
Office at resident e, Coffee county, Ga. P.
O. address, Hazlchurst, M. & B. It. It.,
Georgia. icb4tt
W. IRA BROWN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Vienna, Ga.
PRACTICES in the Superior Courts of
t. Oconee Circuit, and elsewhere in the
State by special contract. Collections
and other business promptly attended
to 3-18-ly
JOHN H MARTIN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
AND BEAL ESTATE AGENTS,
Hawkinsville, Ga.
PRACTICES in the Courts of Pulaski,
Houston. Dooly, Wliocx, Irwin,
Telfair, Dodge and Laurens. - may-tt
CHARLES C. KIBBEE,
ATTORNEY at law,
Hawkinsville, Ga.
ATSTILL ptactice in the Circu'i and Dis-
Vt tricl Courts of the United States
ior the Southern District of Georga, 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,
Dcdge, Telfair, Laurens, Montgomery,
Wilcox, and Irwin, of the Oconee Circuit,
and Appling and Wayne, of the Bruns
wick Circuit.
Prompt attention given to al) business
entrusted to his care. innl7 tf
JOHN P. LEWIS. D. B. LEOKARD
R. G. LEWIS.
LEWIS, LEONARD & CO.,
Bankers and Brokers,
HAWKINSVILLE, - - - GA
Buy and sell Exchange, feonds, Stocks,
Gold and Silver, and -ttenu promptly to
all collections left with us.
Will also make loans on good seem ities.
apr6 ly
HAWKINSVILLE DISPATCH.
RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION.
The Hawkinsville Dispatch will
be mailed (postage free) to subscri
bers in any patt 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 club of
six, and in a club of ten an extra
copy of the paper will be sent gratis
No credit subscribers taken. The
Dispatch bas the largest bona fide
circulation of any weekly papet in
the State.
Geo. P. Woods,
tf Editor and Proprietor.
GEORGIA’S TWO SENATORS AND THE
NEW CONSTITUTION.
At the ratification meeting held in
Atlanta on the 24th ult., speeches
were mode by Hon. B. H. Hill, Hon.
John B. Gordon and others. The
following is an extract from the
speech of Hon. B. H. Hill:
Take this constitution as a whole
and as it is, I do not hesitate to say
that, in my opinion, it is the best
this State has ever had, and no one
of the thirty-eight States of our union
has a better. It contains several
provisions either one of which will lie
worth ten fold the whole cost of the
convention. It contains many of
the improvements which our pro
gressive experience has made not
only wise but necessary. It calls a
most emphatic halt to corruption
and extravagance. It orders legisla
tive jobbing to cease, and it com
mands legislative lobbyists to dis
perse. If there are two opinions as
to the power of the convention to
open the treasury, there can be but
one opinion as to the fact that the
convention has locked the treasury.
In the name of the long-suffering,
often-robbed and terribly plundered
people I thank the convention for
this locking. It was certainly needed.
It is best to adopt the whole as it
stands and cancel any defects by fu
ture amendments.
Hon. Jno. B. Gordon, in the course
of his speech, said : I know not how
others may fepl, but as for me, it is a
source of inexpressible pleasure to
know that henceforth we are to live
under a constitution made by our
selves. I care not whether it is bet
ter than the old constitution. It is
enough for me to know that it is
ours—not Bullock’s, uor Blodgett’s,
nor Biyant’s. That it was made by
Georgia’s sons, inspired by Georgia
patriotism planted upon Georgia
soil, and is to be baptised and sancti
fied by the tears of Georgia’s daugh
ters. And why should not this be
so ? Why should we not love this
constitution and cherish it more than
the old ? The freedom to love one’s
own is a right proscribed by no law,
human or divine, unless it be the law
of sectional bigotry'. W by, even the
God-man, who emhraced in His
boundless sympathies all men of all
nation and tribes, commanded that
ll is own brethren at Jerusalem should
be the first recipients of the Gospel
of Life. To love one’s own, the pro
duct of our own brain, the workman
ship of our own hands, is a noble
sentiment. It is the inspiration of
patriotism, and without it patriotism
dies. This feeling has slumbered al
ready too long in cur midst. It has
lived hut it has languished amid the
ruins that surround us, gleaming here
and there in fitful spells over our
mournful history. It has lived, and
if the popular heart shall be pervaded
with it in the coming election, this
constitution will be ratified by the
convention’s unanimous constituency.
HON. B. H. HILL FOR PRESIDENT.
A special telegram from Washing
ton to the New York World slates
that Hon. Benj. H. Hill, of Georgia,
is being warmly supported by certain
prominent parties in the east and
north as a compromise candidate for
the presidency in 1880. It is pro
posed to place a liberal like Banks
on the ticket with him for the vice
presidency.
A WONDERFUL MAN.
The Berrien County News says :
Mr. John Buchanan, living in Ir
win county, aged sixty years, has
never made a cotton crop; never
bought a pound of bacon or a bushel
of corn since he has been keeping
konse ; has been married twice and
neither of his wives ever had a child.
He has always been a farmer and
bas made a good deal of money by it.
The Marietta • Journal has this :
“An individual, styling himself a
doctor, was in our city last Saturday,
and, we learn, circulated promiscu
ously among the colored people in
Liberia, representing himself as hav
ing been sent out by President Hayes
to take up a school for their benefit,
and that for one dollar each he would
teach and doctor each family for one
year—the dollar was to be sent for
books, etc. Thus playing upon the
credulity of these ignorant people,
he succeeded in getting about fifty
dollars of their money, and then
absconded.”
The Southerner says there is a
young minister in Wilkinson county
who has never seen a pack of cards,
a dance, a cock fight, a horse race, or
a gander pulling.
Capt. King, of Santa Gertrudes,
Texas, is making an addition of sixty
miles to his pasture fence, which will
enclose, when completed, 160,000
acres of splendid land.
HAWKINSVILLE. GA.. THURSDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER G, 1877.
Letter From Texas.
Grasshoppers and the Crops-Splehdid
Wheat aud Corn Crops Awful Mur
ders—Texas Laws—School and Gov
ernment Lands A Poor Country for
Fruit- A Good Country for Fanners
A Hard Country for Women—Tribute
to A. R, Watson.
Alvarado, Texas, )
August 20. 1877. (
Editor Hawkinsville Dispatch:
You remember I stated in my
communication of March 14th that
the farmers in this section of Coun
try would make enough to do their
families and feed their share of grass
hoppers besitles; it has turned out
just so. Wheat lias been harvested
and the yield is satisfactory. But
the “hoppers” did destroy many fields
of oats and spring wheat, and nearly
all the “garden truck.” Continual
replanting was necessary to get a
stand of anything. Many of the
farmers waited until the troublesome
pests had began to leave before
planting at all, which makes crops
later this year than usual. But veg
etation is of such rapid growth in
this soil that a week or two later
makes but little difference. If corn
could have been planted in time,
much more would have been made
than ts, but there is still enough and
to spare, notwithstanding we have
had a long drouth at tho very worst
time. Prairie crops are much less
affected by dry weather than tho-e in
the timber. When the crop of a limber
farmer has been cut short by drought
and he only makes twenty-live bush
els of corn per acre, when he expected
and would have made fifty with a
good season, a prairie farmer can see
his twenty-five bushels and go fifteen
or twenty better. We sandy land
Georgians would never complain at a
failure of only twenty-five bushels
per acre. Too much cannot be said
iu praise of this rich, productive
soil—it never wears out and never
ne;ds a fertilizer.
Saturday morning, July 14th, a
fiendish murder was committed about
a mile aud a half from this village.
Two strange men passing through on
horseback, stopped at one of the
stores and bought a coffee pot. The
one who paid for the article was the
one murdered. It 1s supposed the
murderer thought his victim had
money. He shot him in the back of
the head, the ball coming out at the
temple. He then robbed him, even
to his coat and hat, mule, trappings,
etc., and left. Before leaving, how
ever, he tieu the dead man’s foot to
his horse, and dragged him out of
ihe road into the woods, over roots,
stumps, and brush until the flesh
was literally torn from the back of
the corpse, and the ankle dislocated.
The necK was also broken, but that
may have been done when he fell
from his horse alter being shot.
Two citizens gelling wood a short
ciistance iu the timber, heard the
pistol shot and after awhile saw the
murderer making off. Their suspi
cions were aroused and they came to
town and reported what they had
seen and heard. Several men accom
panied them to the place and soon
found the bloody signs which led to
the finding of the corpse. The Sher
iff and others started in pursuit of
the murderer, whom they surprised
and arrested in an adjoining county
that night. He had ridden over fifty
miles before he stopped to camp.
This is the third murder committed
in this vicinity since our arri
val, nineteen months ago, —±
There has been only one since the
above, which makes four. The first
happened last fall and the man haj
been sent to the penitentiary. The
second I mentioned in my March let
ter—the assassination of a lady whilo
at her tea table, in lhe presence of
her family, and the arrest and im
prisonment of her step-son-in-law.
He has confessed he is implicated
only so far as loading the g :n and
holding the horses for her two step
sons, the youngest of which did the
deed. Both are in ja'l—can’t get
bail. The fourth is a murder of more
recent date; it occurred yesterday at
Pleasant Point, in this county, five
miles from this place. Two men
quarreled and one killed the other—
haven’t heard the particulars.
Like other States, Texas has a law
against gaming. But like many of
her other laws, it is badly perverted.
For instance, she will license a man
to keep a public billiard saloon, then
summons his customers to appear
before the grand jury to answer to
the charge of breaking the law, the
fine for which is twenty-five dollars,
although those summoned have not
gambled, but have only paid the usual
price for the game or games lost.
Now, the question is, does the law
expect a man to keep a public bill
iard saloon free and pay for the priv
ilege of doing so? That would he a
one-sided business, r.ther unprofit
able to the party paying for the li
cense. If I were obliged to express
my private opinion concerning the
twisting and perversion of this law,
'I should condemn it as idiotic incon
sistency, but I decline to express any
opinion at all and would not touch
upon the subject, but that I think
some of your subscribers might en
tertain an idea of coming out here to
engage in the billiard business and
would like to know how it pays.
All citizens here, except land hold
ers, are disfranchised to a certain
extent. The law does not allow a
non landholder to vote on the stock
law. The latter are disposed to
grumble about it. Ungrateful in
them, isn’t it? If a man is cot able
to invest in a little Texas dirt, he
should accept the situation with a
proper degree of humility ; content
himself with a back seat; consider
himself aamall esculent; keep in the
background as much as possible and
not try to thrust himself foiward
and make wry faces and use “cuss”
words against an enlightened legisla
ture for refusing to allow him a v ice
in the affairs of the country. Aston
ishing insolence in a man not worth
a handful of dirt, to wish to put his
finger in the government piel He is
allowed to pay taxes on his crop,
stock, etc;, and that should be liberty
enough for a poor man.
Dissatisfaction is almost universal
with regard to the Tax Law. It is
oppressive as it now stands. A man,
no matter how poor he may be ; how
hard he may labor ; whether on his
own or rented land, must pay a gov
ernment tax on the Crops in his field,
the teams he makes them with, his
horned cattle and every head of hogs
he owns; and .then after his hogs arc
made into bacon, all his bacon is
taxed! Isn t it a pity the “Lone
Star 1 ’ State is so “hard up” and her
resources so limited ? It is to her
interest to encourage immigration,
but some of her wise legislative acts
will have the contrary effect. It is
to be hoped that the next legislature
will repeal or modify, or do some
thing else to change this indiscrimi
nate tax law, and allow a man to
raise his own meat and bread free.
The tame of “Texas’’ signifies
“plenty.” There is plenty of land
and plenty of room ; couuties thinly
settled, some not settled at all. But
plenty of good improved and Un
improved lands for sale within the
borders of civilization. School lands,
(unimproved,) at one and a half to
five dollars per acre, to be paid for
by yearly instalments. in ten years.
Government lands pre-empted and
surveyed for eighteen dollars; one
hundred and sixty acres to the head
of a family—half as much to an un
married man of one and twenty and
over. The place pre-empted must
be improved and settled three years
before titles can be had, Improving
means building a rough cabin, fenc
ing in and cultivating a patch or two.
Private parties also own thousands
of acres of fine, unimproved lands.
That fat, fine looking party, Gen.
Toombs, of Georgia, owns a bodv of
thirty thousand acres on the road be
tween this place and Fort Worth, in
Tarrant county, and only a few miles
from “the Fort.”
Fruit trees do not seem to thrive
in this soil. 1 have not seen a half
peck of peaches this season,and have
not eaten a half dozen. Many of the
people have not seen a tresh fig or
tasted a scuppernong grape. There
is a native grape here called the
“Mustang,” very much like the Fox
grape. It is rough and sour, and
takes the skin off of one’s lips equal
to green muscadine rinds, or hulls.
In fact, it draws the mouth into such
a pucker that like ’he Irishman, who
chewed up a green persimmon, it is
hard to tell whether one is whistling
or singing.
Wild plums and black-haws are
plentiful, but no peaches; watermel
ons and muskmelons, but no peaches!
Dear old Georgia, how I sigh for a
barrel of your luscious Chinese
clings; or any other clings. Howl
should like once more to etand under
one of your full bearing celestial fig
trees! or roam at will about and
around and beneath one of your
gr. ad old scuppernong vines! Heigh
ho! However much this country
lacks in some things she makes up
in a profusion of others. A man
only works half as hard as in the old
Stales—only half his time and makes
three times as much cotton and five
times as much corn. So you may
perceive his life is comparatively easy
amid all the hardships of a compara
tively new country. But a woman's
life whe—w! Well, just let me
whisper it in your ear and you whis
per it to your wife, who must whis
per it to her lady friends, that a wo
man’s life in .this country is cne
“uemnition grinil !” and generally
ground out of her before she has
reached her three score years and
ten.
In the death of A. R. Watson,
Georgia lost one of her sweetest
poets and noblest sons. How sad to
think his muse is silenced forever !
Although no longer numbered among
the “Living Writers of the South,”
he still lives in the memories of all
whose hearts he has touched by his
beautiful songs.
Respectfully,
J. B.
WHY SHE STOPPED HER PAPER.
She came bounding through the
sanctum door like a cannon hall, and
without pausing to say “How d’ye
do ?” she brought her umbrella down
on the table with a crash and shout
ed :
“ I want yon to stop my paper,”
“All right, madam."
“Stop it right off, too,” she per
sisted, whacking the table again, “for
I waited long enough for you to do
the square thing.”
She quieted down for a moment,
as we ran our fingers down the list
of names, and when we reached hers
and scratched it out, she said :
“There; now mebbe you’ll do as
you ought to affer this, and not
slight a woman jes cause she’s pool.
If some rich folks happened to have
a little red-headed, bandy-legged,
squint-eyed, wheezy squallei born to
them, you puff it to the skies and
make it out an angel; but when poor
people have a buby you don’t say a
word about it, even if its the squarest
toed, blackest-baired, biggest-headed,
hobbiest litlie kid that ever kept a
woman awake o’ nights. That’s
what’s the matter, and that’s why I
stopped my paper.” . And she dash
ed out as rapidly as she came.
A Dangerous Experiment.
BY JENNY WREN.
On the pathway leading up
ward from the cliffs belonging to the
little village of C walked two
men. A single glance announced
them brothers; and as, arm linked
iu arm and eyes radiant with happi
ness, they slowly continued their
way, it soon became evident they
were brothers in heart as well as in
name.
“I can hardly believe, All, stand
ing here by your side again*” said
one, evidently the elder, “that two
long years have come and gone since
I said good bye. When 1 reached
home and found you were not there,
it soemrii nbUie no longer, and I has
tened after you, my curiosity some
what awakened as to what potent
fascination could enchain you so
long in this quiet spot. Whose
•bright eyes are responsible? Come,
make confession.”
“I scarcely could withhold it from
you at such a time, so I will tell you,
frankly, the words you have spoken
in jest have a far deeper meaning
I am in love! Nay, do not smile
You will doubtless say the words
fall on your ears with a familiar
sound, as though you had heard
them many times before. Aye, so
you have, but not as now. This is
the first earnest passion of my life.—
I love Clare Arnold as I knew not I
could love 1”
“Well, I will not be skeptical. But
how conies the woman who could
win such an affection in this quiet
spot? Is she, too, rusticating, like
yourself?”
A blush rose to the young man’s
cheek, lie half turned his head to
conceal it, as he answered :
“This is her burner” Then, speak
ing rapidly, as though ashamed of
his momentary weakness* he contin
ued : “I have won no city belle,
Harold. She is a simple country
girl, born and bred in this town, the
daughter of a farmer; but her Heart
is as pure as the roses she teuds, her
face and form as beautiful as any I
have ever seen. You are critical,
but I fear not even your criticism.—
I believe she loves me, and I would
not barter the knowledge of that be
lief for all that life holds.”
“This is glad news, Alf. Our
name has never yet been yielded un
worthily.”
“Nor shall it be now. I will prove
it, Harold. I will go away for three
weeks. She knows nothing of your
coming. Stay here during that time.
Take an assumed name—the r ole of
a wandering artist—and if, at the
end of my probation, you do not say
she is worthy to grace any drawing
room, do not stand ready to receive
her with pride as your sister, I will
acknowledge my judgment at fault.
I will introduce you as ray friend, if
yon say so.”
“No. I will meet her in my own
way—under no halo cast by your re
flected greatness. I will accept your
proposition, old fellow, and treat
you as generously as you deserve.”
*****
“Who lives in the old white house,
standing so picturesquely in that
group of trees ?" questioned a young
man, evidently an artist, of a passer
by, on the day following the above
conversation.
“Fanner Arnold, sir,” was the re
ply*
“Do yoit think he would object to
my making a sketch of his place ?”
“I think not, sir. But if you go
up to the house, some of the women
folks can tell you better.”
“Then there are women-folks ?”
“Yes, indeed,” continued the coun
try-man, glad to afford any informa
tion. “There’s no prettier girl in all
the country round than Clare Arnold.
They say a young stranger has been
courtin’ her lately. If he carries her
off, he’ll leave many' a lad’s heart
desolate in these parts. But Clare’s
not one to be lightly won.”
A few moments after, and the
stranger had knocked at the door.
In answer to his summons, a young
girl speedily appeared.
Harold YViuthrop (for he it was,
though we are now to know hitn as
Roger Tracy) started back. He had
expected to find some country beau
ty—a buxom lass, with rosy cheeks
and laughing eves.
But tho slender young form before
him bent with the grace of the wil
low : the eyes, large and dark, had in
in them rather a tinge of sadness
than of mitth; on her cheek was
rather the faint flush of the wild rose
than the deeper tint of the peony ;
and around her white forehead the
hair escaped in little golden ripples,
which gave to the picture its last
needed touch, and made Harold long,
then and there, to imprint a brother’s
kiss upon the red lips.
To no lady in the land could he
hare raised his hat with greater def
erence than to this farmer’s daugh
ter. as tie asked permission to make
a sketch of the house and place, and
received a gracious assent.
When Farmei Arnold returned to
his dinner, after driving around the
farm, he found the stranger industri
ously at work, and soon they were
chatting like old friends.
The young artist seemed to take
a wonderlul interest in farming.
“How long will you stay ?” ques
tioned the f&rmeri
“I am so charmed with your neigh
borhood I think I shall remain sev
eral weeks.”
“I hope you may,” was the hearty
response. “Somehow 1 have taken a
fancy to you, and I should like to
see this picture finished. Can you
paint portraits.”
“I have occasionally done so.”
“I should like a pic’ure of my girl.
She don’t look much like her father,
and some of tließe days she will be
wanting to leave the home-nest. I
aid willing t<. pay a fair price.”
“And I am willing to undertake
the commission. If I succeed, we
can talk about prices later.”
So it was decided, and so the por
trait was begun. At first it was a
silent sitter the young artist had,
with a far-off, dreamy look in the
eyes so darkly, beautifully blue; but
gradually he learned how to bring a
sparkle to their depths; the dimples
to play at hide-and-seek; occasional
lv to induce a bright, ripplmg laugh,
which echoes for minutes after in his
ear, and lo watch the face glow into
animation and interest.
The picture grew; the lovely face
was transmitted in all its exquisite
coloring to canvas, and the artist
worked tfitli a zeal he had not be
lieved himself capable of carrying
into execution For this his two
years’ study abroad, and in foreign
galleries, were a’ready well repaid.
For his brother he was doing this
thing—his onlv dearly loved brother.
It would be his wedding gift, and
with it he would tell him he could
offer none more fitting. The father
should have a copy. The original
should belong to Clare’s husband!
'1 his last determination came to
him as one evening he stood alone*
putting the finishing touches to his
work. It flashed in an instant
through his brain, and as the words
“Clare’s husband!” formed them
selves, the brush fell from his hand,
and on his face grew an awful pal
lor.
His sister! He had thought this
the meaning of his wonderful inter
est in his work. His sister that was
to be, but how ? She wa3 to belong
to his b’otlier—she, the woman
whom he had learned to love. Ah,
these weeks had done their fatal
work. The serpent had been hid
from sight under a mass of flowers,
but the hone less deadly was his sting.
To-morrow his brother would re
turn—to-morrow would extend him
his hand, would say :
“How have you fulfilled your
trust ? Is she not worthy ?”
And he would answer:
“Yes, more than worthy; but I am
not fit to render judgment—l am a
traitor, and have betrayed you !”
Yet not the latter. His guilty se
cret was as yet his own. Clare,
thank God! knew it Mot, But at
this moment she enters, saying:
“You are pale, Mr. Tracy; you arc
working too hard. Come, take a stroll
with mo.”
“For the last time,” lie thinks, as
he complies, with lingering reluc
tance.
Together they cross the road, and
their feet uneonsciously seek Ihe path
they so often have trod before—
down where the houghs meet over
their heads, and no sound breaks the
stillness, save their own voices and
the music of the birds.
“My work is completed, Miss
Clare. I have already' lingered too
long, and must leave you to-morrow,”
he says after a few moments’ sileuce.
With startling abruptness, his
meaning becomes clear to her, and
the color dies out of her cheeks and
ihe light from her eyes.
He sees it, and the task he has
set bims. If becomes a thousand-fold
more difficult, but he goes on, brave
ly :
“The picture I will leave with your
father. lamin no need of money,
and hope he will accept it as a gift*
which, he in turn, may give your hus
band as his wedding portion.”
“My husband? I—l—shall never
marry, Mr. Tracy. D —”
But a great sob choked her, and
the words died unfinished on her
lips.
Round Harold’s mouth there came
t c whiteness ol death as he sprang
from his seat, and with great strides
paced up and down—then, suddenly'
stopping before her, lie said :
“I am a traitor and a villain,
Clare Arnold—a traitor to a brother’s
trust! Listen! Even my name is
false; I am Alf Winthrop’s brother.
Three short weeks ago, he came to
me and said, ‘Before I grieve you
whom I love by intrusting my r proud
name to the woman whom I adore, 1
wish to hear from your lips that she
is worthy’. Go to her, know her,
study her. Ido not fear your ver
diet.’ And I, in my pride, answered,
‘I will accept the trust, and wiil deal
generously with you.’
“I saw you. Day by day your
love-lines crept into my heart—day
hy day I whispered to myself, ‘lt is
for my brother I do this thing,’ until
the fatal truth burst upon me that I
loved you with no brother’s love—
that for your sake I might turn Cain,
should I not forever leave y r ou. To
morrow he will return. Make what
excuse you may for my absence—
anything, rather than let him know
the truth. Now go back to your
home; and believe me that nevei
shall I look upon your face again, un
til I have conquered self, and the
passion which has destroyed even my
honor.”
And he threw himself, as be
finished, upon the ground. For a
moment there was silence ; then came
the rustle of n woman’s dress, a
woman’s swift kif>9 fell upon his fore
head, a woman’s step growing fainter,
the echo of a soli, and Harold Win
throp knew himself alone. For
hours it semed, he lay there; and
when he raised his head, his eyes
which, motionless, had watched It'S
solitary' vigal—the eyes of the broth
er he bad betrayed.
“I have heard all, Harold. I came
to find you, and unconsciously be
came a listener to your confession.
Yoii do yourself injustice. The
weeks of absence have shown me I
*lid not quite know my own heart,
and she—she loves you. A h, Harold,
she never looked on me as on you,
when she turned away, as Bhe sup
posed forever. No woman shall
come between us, brother. Come,
let us go to her, and see the ean
shine through her tears. We wiil
reverse jadgment, and let me be the
one to approve my brother’s choice.”
In vain Harold opposed it. The
younger man stood firm, until at last
lie said :
“Come, we will leave it to her.
Have you the light to destroy her
happiness ?”
So the picture-hung, after all, on
Harold’s walls—the picture of his
wife; and when, years after, Alf
completed their happiness by bring
ing home a fair voting bride, he
laughingly said he trusted entirely to
his own judgment, for he feared,
should he seek another’s, it might
again prove “A Dangerous Experi
ment.”
A HERO’S DEATH.
The death of General Jackson was
characteristic in its singularity'. At
night when the battle had ended,
just as lie had achieved what he be
lieved to be the most successful
movement of his career, he, whom
the enemy had began to believe bbth
invulnerable and invincible, fellat the
hands of his own people. It is need
less to repeat the painful story of
his wounding aud death. At first it
was not believed his wounds were
mortal, and the army' thought, in the
language of Gen, Leo, “Jackson will
not—he cannot die.” But it was
written. Pneumonia lent its fearful
aid to the enemy, and oil Sunday
afternoon he closed his eyes and
smiled at his own spoken dream
“Lot us cross over the river and rest
under the shade of the trees.” The
dream thus spoken is yet unbroken,
and his soul went out to heaven, up
lifted by sighs and prayers, rising
that hour from alter and cloister, all
over tho South for his recovery.
On Friday, the 15th of May, 18G3,
his body was la:,en for burial to his
home in Lexington. He had not
been there since he left it, two years
before, at the beginning of the war-
Only two years, and yet how like a
romance is tho simple story of his
growth in fame. And now lie lies
buried as he directed, “in tiie Valley
of Virginia,” and among the people
he loved so well. It were better so.
He could not have saved the South
and it was merciful that he should
perish first. The tender memory' he
left behind him in tho army, and the
st- in sense of duty he bequeathed
his soldiers will be closed by tho lit
tle incident with which 1 close this
unworthy sketch: The army of Lee
was on its march to Gettysburg and
the commanding General had given
strict orders for its discipline iu
Pennsylvania. An officer riding to
camp at Chambersburg, late at night,
was halted by the outposts. Having
neither pass nor countersign, iii his
dilemma he bethought him of an old
pass in his pocket book signed by
General Jackson, whose recent death
hung like a cloud over the army.
He found it and handed it with
confidence to the sentinel. The
trusty fellow managed to read it by
the light ot a match, and as he did so
he seemed to linger and hesitate over
the signature. And then, as the
light went out, he handed it back,
and looking up to the st .is beyond
he said, sadly and firmly, “Captain,
you ean go to heaven on that paper
but you can’t pass this post.”
A ROMANTIC LOVE STORY.
A delicious love idyl comes from
Wayne county, Ky. A stalwart
young Kentuckian of knightly bear
ing, passing through a Monticello
street ten years ago, wa3 noticed by
a young girl sitting at tho window of
tiie most aristocratic house of the
town, and she fell in love with him
at first sight. She had wealth, cul
ture and beauty : he was poor, with
only his splendid physique and in
trepid spirit, and was then on his
way to seek fortune as a cattle herd
er in Texas. There ho soon rose to
bo proprietor of a ranche, and took
his money' to California and hunted
for gold. After many ups and
downs, fortune favored him, and he
found himself the owner of a silver
mine at Silver City, New Mexico.—
The girl, meanwhile, had bb omed
into a rarely beautiful woman, had
developed unusual literary ability,
and become a contributor to the
Api stolic Tim;s, the organ of the
Reformed Church, published at Lex
ington. By some means the girl
had learned who the unconscious ob
ject of her fancy was, and though he
had never seen her, the two corres
ponded tlirou bout the ten years.—
She never wrote a word of her per
sonal attractions nor family, nor did
he speak of his good fortune; he had
a mind well stored with judicious
reading, and their correspondence
was only that of book-loving friends.
A few weeks ago, however; the love
she had always bore him bore its
fruit. He wrote her proposing mar
riage, and soon followed his letter to
her Kentucky home, where he saw
her for the first time. Recently
they were married, and Miss Annie
Berry, that was, will be surprised to
find on reaching Silver City, that her
hubband. It. B. Metcalf, is the great
est capitalist in New Mexico,— Cleve
land Plaindedler.
EPITAPH.
Here lies John Sliaw,
Attorney-at-law ;
And when he died,
The devil cried,
“Give us your paw,
John Shaw,
Attorney-at law.”
“Since the opposition boat has come
on the Chattahoochee river they are
so accommodating that they will
land, when hailed, just to receive a
letter, or to tell the price of chickens
in Columbus.”
A team of sixteen mules, drawing
a wagon laden with 40,000 pounds of
ore, is n common sight in Reno,
Nevada.
The biggest fool in the world is
dead. Told his mother-in-law she
lied. Did it with her litlie skillet.
NO. 3C>.
A MODEKN LOVE LETTER.
Deau Miss Mary :—Every time J
think of you my heart flops up alia
down like a churn dasher. Sensa
tions of unutterable joy caper over
it like young goats on a stable roof,
and thrill through it like Spanish
needles through a pair of linen
trowsers. Asa gosli-g swiir.eth with
delight in a mud puddle, so I swim
in a sea of glory. Visions of estac
tio rapture thicker than the hairs on
a blacking brush, and brighter than
the hues of a humming bird’s pinions!
visit me in my slumbers; and borne
on their invisible wings your image
stands before me, and I reach out to
grasp it, like a pointer snapping at a
blue bottle fly. When I first beheld
your angelic perfections I was be
wildered, and my brain whirled
around like a bumble bee under a
glass tumble!. My e3 r es stood open
like cellar doors in a country town,
and I lifted up my.ears to catch the
si.very accents of your voice. Mfr
tongue refused to wag, and in silent,
adoration I drank in the sweet infec
tion of love as a thirsty man swal
loweth a tumbler of hot whisky
punch. Since the light of your face
fell upon my life, I sometimes feel as
if I Could lift myself up by my boot
straps to the top of the Presbyterian
steeple, and pull the bell rope for
singing school. Day and night you
are in my thoughts. When Aurora,
blushing like a bride, rises from her
saffron couch ; when the jay bird
pipes his tuneful lay in the apple,
tree by the spring house ; when the
chanticleer’s shrill clarion heralds the
coming morn; when the awakehed
pig arisetb from his bed and grnut
eth, and goetli for his morning re
freshments; when the drowsy beetle
wheels his droning flight at sultry
noontide, and when the lowing cows
come home at milking tunc, I think
of thee; and like apiece of gum
elastic, my heart seems to stretch
clear across, my bosom. Your hair
is like the mane of a sorrel horse
powdered with gold; and the brass
pins skewered through your Water
tali fill me with unbounded avu
Your forehead is smoother than l i e
elbow of an old coat. • Your eyes e
glorious to behold. In their liquid
depths I see legions of little cupids
bathing like a cohort of ants on r:t
<ld army cracker. When their tire
hit me upon my manly breast it pen
etrated my whole anatomy as a load
of bird shot would go through a rot
ten apple. Your nose is from a
chunk of Pyrian marble, and your
mouth puckered with sweetness.
Nectar lingers on your lips like lion-,
ey on a bear’s paw, and myriads of
unfledged kisses are there ready to
lly out and light somewhere, likejblue
birds out of a parent’s nest. Your
laugh rings in my ears like the wiicl
harp’s strain or the blest of a stray
lamb on a bleak hill-side. The dim
ples in your cheeks are like bowers
in beds of roses, or hollows in cakes
of home-made sugar.
1 am dying to fly to thy presence
and pour out the burning eloquence
of my love, as thrifty housewives
pour out hot coffee/ Away from
you I am as melancholy as a sick
rat. Sometimes I can hear the June
bugs of despondency buzzing in
my ears, and teel the cold lizznrds of
despair crawling down my back.
Uncouth fears, like a thousand min
nows, nibble at my spirits, and my
noul is pierced through with doubts,
as an old cheese is bored with skip
pers. My love for you is stronger
than the smell of Cofly's patient but
ter or the kick of a young cow, and
more unselfish than a kitten’s first
caterwaul. As the song bird hank
ers for the light of day, the cautious
mouse for the fresh bacon in the trap,
as a lean pup hankers for hew milk,
so I long to elnbrace thee.
You aro fairer than a speckled
pullet, sweeter than a yankec dough
nut fried in sorghum molasses,
brighter than the topknot plumage
on the head of a muscovy duck.
You are candy, kisses, raisens,
pound cake and sweetened toddy al
together.
If these few remarks will enable
you ti> see the inside of my soul, and
me to win your affections, I shall be
ns happy as a woodpebber on a cher
ry tree, or a stage horse in a green
pasture. If you cannot reciprocate
my thrilling passion I will pine away
like a poisoned bedbug, and fall away
from the flourishing vino of life, an
untimely branch; and in the coming
years, when the shadows grow from
the hills and the philosophic frog
sings his cheerful evening hymns,
you happy in another’s love, can
come and drop a tear and catch a cold
upon the last resting place of your
dearest friend,
Joshua Muggins
Perhaps the most remarkable <ii
cide on record has been committed
in Sweden. A government olii • :.!
in the district of Ripsa, wearied by
pecuniary difficulties, took a row
with his wife and two children upon
a neighboring lake, ostensibly to pass
a few hours in fishing, but after get
ting to a distance at which he could
do no harm to others, he applied a
match to a quantity of explosive ma
terial, supposed to be some form of
dynamite that he had unobserved
taken with him, and blew the boat
and its occupants literally into frag
ments.
-
A philosopher says evety married
man should have a dog in the house.
A dog will scare off robbers at night,
eat up stale scraps of meat, and
when you come home out of humor
ami find supper all hour in arrears,
you can give vent to your wrath by
kicking the animal clear across the
room.
The brandy crop in North Carolina
is immense. Over three hundred
distilleries are registered in the divi
sion of tho collet tor’s departments
around Staleville;