Newspaper Page Text
The
I )YII fSETT HERALD
-r*
M ,.D cvßr ‘ V 'V B DN KS DAT BT
.eeples^bowles.
I sL nsLi«n»noN katks:
■ llV i>,nos., $1.50 in advance.
K copy .75 in advance.
H copy ' ’’ go i n advance.
K c opy 3 mas.,
I Encash for Everybody
rofc i ky.
tl il’l’V DKE IMS.
% published by keqest
, tiered round the horn -stead,
I o rry dear familiar «['"*•;
" ’ jiiin inv rec"l tction
I B iSwr* l ' d minirly lorgot.
n V nr/diard nioudow, garden,
| '''[lfrr'ihe tie'i> laahiooed we' l,
I Wt .il* old m'* covered bucket,
I sent a thrill no tongue cun tell.
| Though the place was held by strangers,
I ' Alfr-mained the same wt'l.m ,
I t ,' inrte a child 1 wander, d
I "up and down and oaf and in.
1.. ,L wire i datk ascondinjr
I a l ,lace a ‘ hihlish dread ;
I 1A 1 saw my trundle bed.
I Click I drew it from the rubbish,
I (Urcd o’er with dust so long,
I Wheu I seemed to heur in fancy
I Sira ns of one familiar eoug ,
I Olten sung hv my dear nnn her
I To mein the trundle bd.
I nub. my child, lie srill and s.umher,
lloiy angel* guard ihy bed.
lA* Mis'a to the music,
1 Stealing o’er in geutie strains,
I I „„ carried back to childhood,
I lam now a child again.
I Tis the hour lor my retiring
! At the dusky even tied.
Ift tar inv trundle betl I kneeling
I as ia "yore by my mother's side.
I Hands are on my head so loving.
? As they wi re in c i dll >od days,
II with many tones are trying
'I ■ ts-peat the words she said.
I Tis n prayer in hun-urae simple
Ass mothers lips can frame,
I Fa'her thou wb<> art in Heaven,
hallowed las thy Holy Name.
I IVnyrr is over, to my pillow
\Vitji a enrd right kiss I creep;
I feiirccj wakinsr while I whisp-r,
• Xow I la m. down to steer. ”
While mv mother oVr me bending.
Prays in ►ame t tone l but nt.ld,
• Hear mv pravt*r. Oh Heavenly hat her,
Htaw, Olt, bless my darling child.’
Kill ate, 1 m only rtrmmire,
Nrv.T. will I lea child a-rain ;
Many v<*nrs lias that dm:* mother
In the q iift churchyard lain.
Ifnt In r hlesgcd antrel spirit
li.nlr hovers i»er m> head
(Jiillirij me Iron earth to .leaven
Kvcn from my tr in lie be !•
M ISC El .1 j ANY*
3//ss if7/r//-;’.v low
LXTEIi i cl.
‘The Prof is n* see a* l to b •
in no hurry to marry. There
were qaan/i i s of pretty gins at
Ashwood, and n it a few of them,
set their caps for the Professor —
pretty conspicuously, too didu t
they, Charlie? They vot'd him
‘/nt splendid’ and awfully nice,
bat he never seemed to notice
them except to use them all in a
friendly sort of a way. After a
while they gave him up, and dovo
ted themselves to the seniors.
They knew how friendly he was
with Miss W rite, and as long as
he wouldn't fall in love with thorn
they grew quite reconsiled to her
monopoly of the only unmarried
Professor. It male soma talk
at first, bat after a little it seem
ed quite a matter of course.
‘T don’t blame the Professor
for liking to talk over his studies
with Miss White, she always en
ters with her whole heart so into
whatever you tell her,’ one of the
girls said to me one day.
‘After all, there was a ludicrous
as well as a pathetic side to Miss
White’s Live Experience. Her
affection for the man fifteen years
her junior seamed to have,- as well
it might, an odd mixture of moth
er love in it. She would mend
his gloves, doctor him when he
was a little ill, make him hot gin
ger tea sold evenings. I think
his mother must have been one of
toe codeling sort, he took so kind
Iv te baing looks l after, generally,
‘ahe Professor wi3 noenlfond
ginger tea; in the winter he
used to go off on long tramps
hunting up ‘horsebacks,’ and
when he came in he'd go straight
to 8 * W bite's room, the first
thing. \\ a ase j laugh at him
a good deal about his weakness
{or ginger tea.
a remember one night Miss
asked him with a la ig'n, as
*h* handed him a steaming goblet
Weekly Gwinnett Herald.
TYLKLt M. PKKI’LRS, /
Editor and Pkopkiktok. f
‘Prof John, what "ill you do
for ginger tea wheu I get past
labor?’
‘What shall I do?' and then the
Professor struck a stage of air
mid quoted from Faust, ‘Hit
Grauseu silrich das von writen,’
with an accent which would have
driven Mephistopheles himself to
dispair.
•He stirred up his tea with a
slow, circular rnov nient, took up
a spoonful, let it drop back into
tha goblet, held’up the glass to
the lamp,.eyed it a moment and
■ lid:
‘l’ll tell you ladies, when I mar
ry, I shall be like King in Volks
mann’s Trtianoereien, only, instead
of Pfeffernusse, the woman to
whom I give my heart must vm
deritand as the first and absolute
ly indiapensible qualification, how
to make ginger tea with the same
happy combination’of ginger, sa
gar, milk and water as the nectar
lam now sipping. Perhaps yo*
find it effeminate in the Professor
to take so kindly to codling—of
course, you don't though? you
couldn’t have helped seeing his
manliness at a glance.
‘Nothing suited him better than
a wrestle with a tough Northeas -
ter Cut there! where is the man
who don’t like a cozy fireside,
warm slippers, and a sip of some
thing hot when he comes in tired
And cold. Ah yes, Prof Charley,
your lords of creation will stand
any amount of petting I think
the roughest man has something
of the child left in him. We don’t
see it in his business, perhaps,
bnt it comes out; when lie is veiy
happy or miserable, tired or sick.
For nil his learning there was a
good deal of the boy in Prof
iielt.on.
‘At last Miss White seemed per
fictly happy. Oyer a year had
gone by and nobody had won the
Professor. Perhaps lie never
wonhl marry.
‘On Sa nrday—it was the las'
of June, and we were all sitting
ready for commencement —the
evening train brought a visitor to
tho President’s wife.
‘Miss May ‘-tuiand was a clus
raate of mine, as 1 1 confess i
wasn't very glad to hear of her
visit. Charles says I was jealous
of her. I never could bear her.
/never' was, although, of course,
I couldn’t help seeing how hard
she iried to captivate him.
•She was a pretty girl, no qnes
tiau about that, and she had excel
len: taste in dress —understood
making the most of her beauty.
Dear me, she ought to have un -
derstood how to dress herself.
She never gave her mind to any
thing else!
‘Mrs dissident was something
of a matchmaker; besides, May
was an orphan, with very little
fortune—Dothing to speak of, and
the President s wife found her
rather an expensive luxury, I im
agin'. She was twenty five, bad
been engaged three times —twice
she had broken the engagement
herself, but the last time the gen
tleman did it. Already people
who knew Miss May when she was
eighteen had begun to speak of
her as rather patso; clearly it was
time something decided was done,
if they didn't waut her on their
hands for life.
‘doreasoned Mrs President, and
as the first result of her reasoning
had the Professor there to dinner
Sunday.
‘Men arc queer. Prof Seltou
had resisted the wiles of a dozen
girls, younger, quite as pretty and
vastly more intellectual than Miss
May—who wasn’t intellectual at
all. But, then, you never can tell
anything about it. He a naan ad
miring simplicity, ten chances to
one he'll marry a milliner’s adver
tisement! Perhaps its all wisely
foreordained —I mean, that nice
men shall get stupid wives, and
vice versa. What would become
Lawrencevilie, 3-a. Wednesday, May 16, .1883.
of the next generation if it were
not so! Why, of course there are
exceptions, Charley, So dou’t try
to study out which rfs is tho
stupid one. Anyhow, foreordain
ed or not, Prof Selton fell in love
with May Garland at first sight
If he hadn’t he never would have
fallen in love with her. That’s all
the chauce a girl of Miss May’s
stamp has to captivate a nice man
—to bewitch him with her pretty
face before he his time to dis’ov
er how shallow a brain lies behind
it. Ouce in love a man is blind to
everything while tho spell lasts
‘Mrs President was a wise wo
man. Miss M ly. too, had had ex
perience quite adequate to he r
twenty five years and knew how
to improve the golden opportuni
ty. The Prof was a risiug man ;
moreover, he had a very neat lit
tle private fortune. Taken all in
all, she couldn’t expect to make a
better party. Evidently so they
both thought, and Mrs Piesident
followed up her invitation to din
ner with a lawn party to tho sen
iors, to which Prof Solton was in
vi/ed.
‘Charley was laoking over exirn
ination papers with the Greek
Professor, and of course I spent
the evening with Miss White. She
was very still, sa’d she had the
headache, and I left before Char
be came in. Just before wi sai l
good night wa were speaking of. a
mutual frien l who had recently
married much against the wishes
of all who love ! her.
‘She’s a fool,’ I sai l rn ire etn
phatically than elegantly, I con
fess.
‘Miss White laughed such a
queer, joyless laugh. ‘Don’t you
pity her then ? I do. She’ll find
Oill HUU B<i lOUi U UU Ul liiC-ao Ut j t>,
,f, indeec , she hasn't known it all
along—and there can bo nothing
worse than to find yourself in a
hopeless situation, and to know
that you have lo thank your own
foolishness for it all To feel that
»ou have been a f >ol, to know
that you are still a fool don’t help
the ache. If I put my »wn hand
info the fire there, I shall get born
ed just as certainly as if you did
it for me. P>at one should not be
such a fool ns to do it. you say ?
Yes, Ikh mv, but supposing one
has done it, and one is already
burned—they h vo ail the smart
to bear and must keep still about
it, becausoMobody would pity their
lament should they give their pun
voice. I pity our friend —once,
because of her unhappy situation,
twice, because she has been a fool
Quite likely she was old enough
to know better, but unfortunately
there’s n» fool like an old fool you
know. ‘Good night, she kis.cd
me. shut tho d >or, and if she read
or sewed, wept or laughed, I never
knew.
Wednesday afternoon, Miss May
and the Professor went boating;
Friday, there was a crcquet party
at the President's, Saturday. Mrs.
President called for the Professor
to drive her over to the village,
and of course Miss May was with
her. One couldn’t say she planned
it. The horse was skittish, and
Mrs President frequently called
on Prof Selton to drive her.
‘The next week was commence
ment, and of course everybody
was full cf business. Tho Proses
sor didn’t git much time for boat
ing or croquet. Miss May came
oat at the class receptian in all
her glory, S-ie knew /he Proses
sor was in love with her. I don t
know as one should blame her fer
feeling rather triumphant about
it; of course it was q nto natural
tlif t she should like to have tne
girls see that she had succeeded
iu catehng the man they had all
failed to captivate; but she need
not have been so unfeeling toward
Miss White.
‘I th'nk Mies White di 1 her
best to like her. I watched them,
and although Miss May’s remarks
had the appearance sf being very
polite, 1 coni 1 see that thev were
intended to wound, and that they
did wound Miss White very deep
ly, for site was very sensitive. /
hated Miss May more than ever,
standing there in all her youth,
beauty and triumph, she could
well afford sympathy to the wo
man old enough to be her mother,
who had no thought of st.andiug
between Iter and her lover, but
who loved him with a love Miss
Miy was incapable of understand
ing
‘Friday most of tho pupils wont
home, and Saturday we had a pic
eic on Blake’s Island. It was the
fourth, you know. We all went
down the river in a largo boat
hung with Chinese lanterns for
wo were not to return till evening.
‘lt was a very gay party, and
Miss White was the life of it. If
her heart was breaking. Miss Mav
should never know it. She told
some of her funny stories—perfect
character sketches of the old peo
ple she met in her travels, and
made us laugh until we cried. Miss
May was charmingly dressed, a
la picnic from head to toe! she
sat in the stern of the boat, look
ing up in the sky and down into
the water, as if l.'Su in admiration.
It was very becoming to her. She
could not talk, and knew enough
not to try. It was about two o’clock
whan we lauded. We had brought
O
our supper with us Tho ladies
had gotten it up. and the gentle
men were to know nothnig about
the contents of the various cover
ed baskets until celled to partake
of thorn. There were boquets of
rod, white and blue at each plate,
and n guess cake with the Declaim
fithn r\f Tml«nnn nn
der it. Tom Adams got it. He
old us afterward, that what made
him guoss the Declaration of Indo
pen lence was because he had boon
looking up something in Miss
White’s history the day before, and
happened to th'nk just before it
cirne to his turn to guess, that lie
hid noticed the Declaration had
been cutout. 110 wondore 1 atthe
time what Miss White hn.l done it
for.
M iss May was going to Melville
to spend the Sabbath with a
friend. She would have to leave
on the seven o'clock train, so ws
had tea early on her account. We
were just"enting our ices when
she rose. Of course the Professor
weuld row her back.
‘l’m sure the ladies wili feel like
eating mo up for taking you away
from them, Professor Holton. Miss
White, please put off that stern
ook, and persuade them to forgive
me,’ she said with tho most inno
cent look in thaw arid in her blue
eye 3. ‘Really. Professor, it does
seem too bad to take you away
from such a gay party ’ They said
good by and went away to gather.
The next day tho Professor
made Miss White a long call after
church. M unlay ho went away
for his vacation. Nearly all the
other professors wen; too. Char
lie went to Boston* to atteud to
somo business, and Miss White
and I were the only ladies left in
the hall, except the matron.
•As I afterward learned, the
Professor, so Hire of Miss Whites
friendship, bid gone to her for
congratulations the day after he
rowed Miss M;>y np tho river.
How Miss White stood it 1 don’t
know, but of course she \vii3 ex
pecting it, and must have manag
od to conceal her feelings or the
Professor would have asked to tell
mo of his engagement. She nev
er told me, however, and although
I mistrusted how matt' ra stood,
I never knew until / received the
wedding canls a month later. Her
last engagement had taught Miss
May to lose no time in bagging
her game after bringing it down.
‘Miss White was a broken heart
ed woman if ever there was one iu
this world. Hho couldu't bear to
tny alone a minute, ‘Let me
come up and stay with yu, to
night, she would say. ‘l’m so nerv
ous and overworked, I can’t cn
duro being left to entertain mv
self.
‘Three days later Charlie camn
back and thon wo went away to
the islands to spend our vacation
and .Miss Whit a went to her aunt’s
in Vermont.
‘VV hen tho fall term opened,
Prof. Selton came back with hie
bride, but there was a new precep
tress. Miss White had resigned
her position on the plea of ill
health. She never came back to
Ash wood. The girls expected
her tho next coalmenleiaeut, but
she didn't come—l know she
wouldn’t.
‘A year from the next winter I
visited her. She looked ton years
older, and seemed to have lost nil
interest in life. It was such a
sad change! she use 1 to be so
cheer}’and so full of interest for
everybody and everything. She
spoko freely with me relative to
her regard sot Prof Selton. She
•seemed perfectly a.v.ro tint she
had done a very so dish thing;
that for a woman cf forty fivo to
break her heirt, for a mm of tbir
ly was a foolishness which the
world could never condnoe, >.nd
for which she would expect no
sympathy. D. 1 that alter tho
fad? She had loved him before
she was herself aware his cornpan
ionsbip had become a necessity to
her. That he hail never loved het
other than as a dour friend she
had always known, but as long as
he was free sho was wronging no
one by her love—now he was
married and each thought of him
I went back to Ash wood fall of
bitterness toward Prof Selton,
Ho ought to have known better,
he should not have Leen so blind.
He met me at the station, bis
licuest face fall of welcome, his
thick boots all ballad up with snow
lie had been hunting horseback
for two days; had just got back;
Charlie was gone, so he had run
after me, and how wns M iss
White? IHiy didn’t she come to
visit them? 110 must go to see
her, and consult hei about his
new work on geology.
‘Would she be able?’
‘I looked him full in the face:
No, Prof S dton, Miss White witl
never be able to help either of us
any more, and 1 was right, for,
three weeks later wo both went
to her funeral.
‘Was Prof Sal ton happy?
‘For a time ha appeared perfectly
so, but after a little he seemed like
one who missed something.
•ills pretty wife manifes
ted any enthusiasm in his work.
Indeed, she is hardly ever at Ash
wood; she riecls society, she says.
Her winters she spends in Now
York, tier summers at so us water
inf. place.
‘The Professor is known ns n
scientfifii writer, but he his nev j
er written anything as good as
his ‘Talks on Botany.’
‘i think it ws Miss W r hite'a cn
couragement and enthusiasm
that he missed; perhaps, though,
it was only the ginger tea.’
LvN.uniuito, Va., May I.—The
greatest rarvement in rannufaet.
ure i tobacco took place here to
day that was ever recorded in the
history of this city. Nearly
tt'bO.OlK) in stamps were issued to
day, and thirty six car loads of
tobacco. aggregating 800.000
pounds, wai j shippsd *o vtrious
points. One firm shipped 120,000
pennds. But for the damaging
stinks of operatives the shipment
from this point would exceed one
ini' ion pounds.
Thore is a difference between a
well trimmed lamp an 1 a well
limbed tramp when a cyclone
makes its appmranc?, for they
J Liuth light out.
(Vol. XIII.—No. 9
HIS RICH JOKE
The other d ,y a baggage wagon
brought a trunk to the Union D*
pot, which wa, labeled :
“Dynamite within—smash if you
dare!
The trunk wascloiely followed
by a young man who had about
seven minutes to get hi i check and
catch the train. When lie present
ed his ticket and naked for a cheek
the baggage master replied:
‘This trunk can't go as bag
g ige ’
‘ Why ?’
‘The contents are dangerous.
You'll have to remove it from here
at.once tr I'll make you trouble.
*Mut there is no dynamite with
• » "
in.
‘There is the warning.’
‘Yes, but that was for a joke on
tl o bagg ige master.’
‘YuUnginin, a railroad never
j Ass. Get that trunk eut of
here!’
‘Come, old follow, it vbb only in
fun.’ entreated the smart Aleck.
J have only four minutes to catch
the train.’
‘lf you do not remeve the dan
gerous trunk I shall liavo to call
the officer!' wuh the firm reply.
'I tell you it is not dangerous.’
‘hot me inspecti .’
This was grudgingly acceded
to, and nothing more dangerous
than four shirts, which sadly u«e<l
ed washing, were discovered. By
this time the train had departed,
leaving the joker with eight hoars
on h;s bonds, and as the trunk was
relocked he was handed a scraper
and the advice:
‘YuUng man, it might be safer
for you to label yourself with some
thing like: Perishable—no delay.'
you are evidently too ripe for this
section. Now scrape that sign off
or the trunk can't go ’
SETTING HR.VS,
This is the season when hens
run mad and will not be comfort
ed unless they can hideaway some
where and sit day and night on
a wooden nest egg or uu old door
Several men were discussing
this question in a grocery store ro
contly. A man who owns a large
thick of Dorkings remarked : ‘Not
«'en an act of Congress can break
up a set iu’ hen.’
‘Ever tried jamniin’ ’em under a
barrel and pourin’ water on ’em V
demanded the man on the sugar
barrel.
D os,’ said the Dorking man.
Tve poured water on ’em till they
grew web f luted, like a blamed
duck, and afterwards found them
in an old coal hod settiii away on
lumps **’ coal.
‘Tie a red rag on one wing,’
sai 1 a roan who was eating cheese
and crackers. ‘That will fix ein.’
‘.Might’s well offer ’em a chromo
said the D irikng man. I tied n
whole red woolen shirt to me
last spring, and dog my cats if she
didn't make a nest in it and set
threw weeks on tho buttons.’
Then the grocer said it van time
to shut up, and each man girded
up his loins and slowly filed out.
THE REPORTER S P RIM Eh.
‘Who is that angry looking
man ?’
‘That, my son, is a reporter.’
‘Do reporters always look mad?
•Wot alway.
‘What ails that one?’
'He has been to a Church sup
per.’
‘Wasn’t he invited?’
Oh, yes. Fire of the most charm
ing girls in tho parsh urged him
g°-’
‘I should think he would have
/ikel that.’
‘He did And each of those girls
wanted hiin'to give ‘my tabia a.spe
cial mention.’
‘Did lie get any supper ?'
‘Of course lie did. lie bought
a live cent Sandwich for a quarter
and ate it after the Rest got
through.’
‘M here is lie going now?’
‘do is going to the office to
write that the parish church sup
per last night was a moet agreea
hie success The lovely faces of
the fair maidens in attendance on
the tables were on lj rivaled by
the charming liberality with which
they dispensed the finest viands ’
‘Are reporters over uircastic?’
‘No, my son, never.’
A Milton maa who a few weeks
ago kindly offered to share his
bed and board with an impecn
nous acquaintance somewhat ad
dieted to intemperance, says he is
suffering from an attack of room*
mate isic.
An A d verti Hi tiff Medium
The HERALD is vnet/Uotert h •/
rmxrn of it* frtetisive circulation and
remarkabl,j low rate*. Buxine** men
should rerne7nher this.
BLANKS! ELANKS ! ELANt S
(am. KINDS NIr'ATI.Y printed)
FORSALE ATT HE
ii kit a l /> jo it ome Pi
OATH Ell ED GEMS.
A good character shines by its
own light.
They that govern most make
least uoiso.
Life is but short, lherefore]cross
es cannot be ion>r.
n
In jealeusy there is more love
of self than any one else.
People do not need to know
more about virtue, but rather prao
tica what they already know.
If tin re is any person to whom
yon feel a dislike, that is tho par
son of whom you ought never to
speak.,
110 who enn h rituto yon when lie
likes is your master. Thai had
be'ter turn rebel by learning tho
virtue es patience.
Poetry is tho blossom and fra
grunce of all hum ,n know'o Ige,
human thoughts, human passions,
emotions, language.
\\ hoever lends a greedy ear to
x slanderous report is either him
self oTa radical.y bad disposition
or a mere child in sense.
Speekthe truth; yield not to
anger; give, when asked, of the
little thou hast, bo these three
steps thou shult go near the godß.
It is little fro tblo that wears the
heart out. It is easier to throw a
bombsliel 1 a mile, than a feather
even with artilery.
Be w illing to do good in your
own w iv. Wo need none of us bo
disturbed if ivs cannot wield an
other’s weapons; bat our own
must not rust.
/n misfortune on# may know a
fiio d, in battle a hero, in deLtan
honest person, in decaying fort
unes a wife, and kinsmen in a hi. j
tion.
Lei us be careful only of the
quality of our work that is to be
thorough, gentiim', simple hearted
the best that is in us, the best that
can come aut of us.
It i 3 neither safe, respectable,
nor wise to bring any youth to
manhood without a regular calling
Industry, like idlero-ss, is a matter
of halii/. No idle boy will make
an active, industrious an 1 useful
man.
SOME GO Cl) Tl!/yJS TO It J
ME M HER.
Newly ground flour wlrcli
has never been packed is very sa
perior to barrel fl mr.
Every closet and room in a
house should be thoroughly in
spected orve a weak.
In roasting meat do not salt bo
fore putting in the oven, us salt
extracts tho juice.
A true test for eggs is to drop
them in water, and if the largo end
c lines up they are not fresh,
In wiriu weather put your oggs
in warm water sometime before
you are ready to use them,
Hams wrapped in thick brown
piper an l packed in a barrel of
wood ashes in the cellar will keep
all summer.
To test nutmegs pick them wiib
a pin and if they are goo l the oil
will instantly spread nrouua the
punctures.
A piece of heavy cotton flam fl
put on smoothly under tho tub e
cloth prevents hot dishes from n
juring the table, besides imprev
ing the oppearance of the linen.
•I get an inkling of your thought'
sai l the retreating agent, and ho
neatly dodged the flying bottle of
writing fluid as he made for the
door.
He rang tho door bell cf a bank
er. The servant tells him “Man
sienr does not receive to dav.'
That makes nothing to nw. My
racket is to know if he will give
anything.
» -
‘Canyon tell me,’ asked Twis -
tem, ‘the difference between my
cook this morning and a passen
ger on a new railroad? One was
baking shad and the other was
shaken bad.’
‘.’m sorry to keep yen waiting
for your money, 6iiid tin* bark
tailor to Smithers “but h»re’s tho
money all in yellow boys ” Nov
<r mind,’ said Brothers. I see tu
'■ u.’th the weight in goi » .