Newspaper Page Text
]•'. It. i-il,',:-!>, Editor.
Volume Ytn
-I' WOI ’K^SION A 1..
Sl" i- _ : .. '
DR. E A. J ELKS,
Practicing P ll ys i c ian,
OuiTivcArj, oa.
Orvicn: Crick building adjoining store ui
ifessrs. Briggs. Jelks >t Cos., Screven street.
January 31, 1873. 5-tl
JAMES Tl. n L ivT EH,
Stlornnj Comistllor so,
QUITMAN, CA.
pSf Omen, in tub Conor Hoc'SK.-tE?
March 17, 1871.
\V. B. Ckxnkt T. KiX(;sm:::;.v
BEN3VET & KINGSBEItV,
ATTOKXEYS AT LAW,
Qn man. Brooks County^eorgia.
February 7, 1873 6
EI)WAR 1) K *IAK DEN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
QUITMAN, GEORGIA,
*E®„ Office, 111 the Court House, Second Door
Hay. 26, 1872. W
DENTISTRY.
D«. D. ERICKS,
Having recently ■ - .
attended athor- J?
ougk Course of I.ec- -
tures and graduated ", j
at the N— 1 ■ fjJSji
Dental College, lisi y. . --v
returned to Quitman, V %'
and reoi'ened bis of-
Thankful to friends '• ~
and patrons for past favors, he will bo pleased
to serve them in future. Good work and mod
erate charges.
March H, 1873. 11-Km 1
Du J. s. nTsnow,
p E NTIST,
QUITMAN t GEORGIA.
RK.STEOTKI.WXY solicits the . ”"i,
: patronage of the Citizens ol
Brooks county, uud will Til u
by faithfully executing all work entrusted to
him. to merit their confidence.
Charges moderate, and work guaranteed.
■teS.Office, up stairs, over J. Tillm r.’ - store.
, March 21, 1873. f - D
Miscellaneous.
QUITMAN DB!L< STORE.
McCALL&eOOVEI,
Dbalbbs in
Iji’ms, M Aim's Xa ::
Puititn* Oils,
VARNISHES /,'■/" Stuffs
BRUSHES Bn finin'’ '
T*y. ’hair!. i r!<‘-h .
Notify the public tliat l»ey will U“’l> on ; c;,..
ccrapiete au<l is
reasonable profit.
This iM Excoi^ively a Drujr ore. and : ! '.-en
f&ye attention 'of tin- junior member ol the fin*
be given to tin* b uie
We reaped!ally solicit the patronage o! i '.e
public.
Quitman. Feb.‘J 1873. 1y
DK. M. C WILKINSON. I*" '* D.SM iU.
LARGE CitiiS SIGN.
WILKINSON a Slim,
KELP on hand a
Complete ritock
of Fresh and Pure - ■ , ; - -
DRUGS V
AMI >«'* vjfe. " , '. ‘ J
MEDICINES'- '
And many of the best
Also, White Lead. Varnishes, Paints and Oils,
Soaps, Tobacco, Segars, Toilet Articles, Ac.
All of which will be sold on reasonable terms.
Prescriptions carefully compounded.
Quitman, Ga., Jan. 31, 1x73. h-ly
SAW & GRIST MILL,
31 Miles from Quitman.
BOZEMAN & LEWIS.
TAKE pleasure in notifying the public that
they hate still in operation a first-class
Saw and Grist Mill, in a tine lumber section of
Brooks comity, and only 3i inies (rom Quitman,
en the Tallokas public road, and are prepared
to furnish every kind and quality of Lumber, at
short notice, but exclusively for cash.
We will grind only on Wedxesiiay and Snt
cbdav of each week, and we guarantee good
meal. , ,
The following are our pr.ces for Lumber :
For General quality of Lumber, cu.=h on de
livery, $12.50 per 1000 feet.
When payment Is delayed exceeding 30 days,
the bills will be immediately sued without fur
ther notice’to parties.
For speoial bills, where all heart is required,
the price will be $15.00 per 1000 feet, f ash.
These prices will be strictly adhered to.
We solicit the patronage of the public, and
will endeavor to give satisfaction. „
February 11, 1873. > -3m
Dress Goods.
THE Ladies are particularly, requested to ex
amine my stock of beautiful Dross Goods,
Notions, etc., v, hich are offered cheap for cash.
16 t , ' Nathan gazax.
' CHAPPELL’S
‘Champion’ SUPERPHOSPHATE.
A FIRST CLASS FERTILIZER. Over Four
A: thousand Tons sold in Georgia, and not a
single ton repudiated : giving universal satis
faction, and analyz'm*. according to State Chem
ist, 'higher than any brand in tUe market. Try
it. For sale by I s AINE & HALL,
fcb. 7,1572. 6 tl Quitman, Ga.
r iiitniaii.
i). w. P2:h'm,
MERCHANT TAILOR
Q UITMAN, GEORGIA
“TYTOULD inform
W jr: v). v .
Quitman and sar- VIv rjvJwiSL
ro umi ng country, f. /;' '}\f . ■*, ‘ \
that he has just ud* gfk }
cued a FIRST Ct..tss ■,/
Merchant
T A I LOU i N(.,
in Qnituum, and has on baud
a lino lot of
Cloths and Cassimeres,
suitable for making Dross and Business suits.
He has also on hand, a Select stock of
READY MADE CLOTHING.
rVailing and Repairing done on
short notice. 1 Vices model ate.
April 10. 1873. 15 1 y
Crroceries l
I)ERSON in need of Family Croceriex. Bacon,
Flo tr, Collet 4 , Sugars. Teas, eic. will do
well to call at my store before purchasing else
where.
NATHAN GAZAN.
Quitman. Ga., April 17. 1873. 10
LOOK HERE!
Good Calico at 12’ Cents.
Jacob Baum,
DEALER IN
Dry Goods,, Notions, Hard
ware, Crockery, &c„
Cpiilmuu Ovonria.
f SCARFS pleasure, in notifying his friends and
JL. the public generally that he Ims received
SPRING IM SUMMER 'STOCK
toir 187:5,
which will be sold on fair and honorable terms.
These goods were purchased on very favorable
terms, and i am confident cun and will be sold
as cheap us any house in town.
My stock embraces almost everything kept in
a retail star© in theißieiior- -
Dry Goods,
Dress Goods,
AV■.-,/// Modr < U lhinjt
rij.
Rats, (tc. &c.
The Ladies are specially iovited in pay me a
visit, as 1 have many thin - that, will meet favor
in their eves.
Bnrchasers are also specially invil
ed to give me a rail, ns 1 .on determined to sell
Thunkfiil for p o t favors a continuance of cus
tom is solicited J A COB BALM.
March 21, 1573. Iv
DomeEt c G-oods!
rjIHF bes; flock of Do no- tic flood-. Boots,
.Jt. Fhoes. Hals, Me .in th town of Quitman,
can be found at the store of
N A J MAN GAZAN,
yip,:! 17. 1873. Hi
HE: L kb ! 3 -Lo M r-Y.
:L l NDL .GNI-B.* ill I-.C ■ con-tantly at
the store of
M. (TO?. - . V. '.DC,
BOLTED NEAL AND HOMINY,
which will be wold very reGsonaoly for < a.*b,
it C Nlc NAOMI
Qujfman. April, 2-L 1>73 JVtf
The only Reliable Gift Distribution in the country
$60,000 00
In Valuable Gifts!
TO HE mSTTtIIJCTED IN
I, a, sxari’s
101st Regular Monthly
GIFT EUTEBPRISE,
To be drawn Monday, .]un<' 2d, 1873.
Two Grand Capital Prizes of so,ooo each in
Greenbacks,! Two prizes of 31,000, Five prizes
of 8500, and Ten prizes of SIOO each hi Green
backs.
One Horse and Bnggf', with silver mounted
Harness, worth S6OO. One fine toned Rosewood
Piano, worth $500; Ten Family Mewing -Ma
chines. worth SIOO each. Five Gold Watches
and '.J ha ins, worth $309 each! Five Gold Amer
ican Hunting Watches, worth $125 each. Ten
Ladies’ Gold Hunting Watches worth $75 each.
800 Gold and Silv'er Lever Hunting Watches (i
all) worth from S2O to S3OO each. Gold Chains,
Silver-ware, Jewelry, etc.
Whole number of G fta, C 500. Tickets limit
ed to 60,000.
Sit-A gents wanted to sell tickets, to whom
Liberal Premiums will be paid.
Single Tickets $1 ; Six tickets. $5 : Twelve
tickets. $10; Twenty-five tickets, S2O.
Circulais eontamin‘s a full list of prizes, a des
cription ol ihe manner of drawing, and other in
formation in reference to Hip Distribution, will
be sent to any one ordering them. -.411 letters
mnst be addressed to
Mux Office. L. D SINE. Box 86,
101 W. Fifth St. (<5-si) Cinriimuti, O
ilEßju SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE'S RIGHTS MAINTAIN, UNAWED BY FEAR AND UNBRIEED BY GAIN •
QUITMAN, GA., THURSDAY, MAY 15, 1873.
poetical
WHEN YOU J RE DOWN.
What legion of “friends'’always bless ns
When golden success lights your way !
llow the\ smile as they softly address us
So cordial, good-humored and gay !
But oh! when the sun of prosperity
Hath set. then how quickly they frown,
And cry out, iu tones of severity,
Kick the man! don’t you see he Is down !
What though when you knew not a sorrow,
Your heart was open as day,
And your friends when they wanted to borrow,
\ ou*d oblige—and ne’er ask them to pay ?
What though not a soul you e’er slighted,
A '-/on meandered about through the town?
Your triemls become very near-sighted,
And don’t seem to see you when down !
When you’re up yon are loudly exalted,
And traders all sing out your praise;
When you’re down you have greatly defaulted,
And they really ‘-don't fancy your ways.”
Your style was ‘Tip top” when you’d money,
Sc sings every sucker and clown;
But now, ’tis exceedingly funny,
Things are altered, because you’re down!
Oh. give me the heart that forever
Is tiee from the world's selfish rust,
And the soul whoso high, noble endeavor
Is to raise fallen men from the dust;
And when, in adversity’s ocean,
A victim is likely to drown.
All hail to the fnend whose devotion
Will lift up a man when lie’s down.
MY MIDNIGHT PERIL.
Tlip of tlie seventeenth of Octo
ber —shall I ever forget its pitchy dark
ness, the roar of the autumnal wind
through the lonely forest, and the inces
sant downpour of the rain?
“This comes of short cuts,” I muttered
petulantly to myself, as I plodded along,
keeping close to the trunks of the trees
to avoid the deep ravine, through which
1 could hear tlm roar of the turbulent
stream forty or fifty feet, below.
My blood ran cold, as I thought what
might be the possible consequence
of a ink ..F p or move in the wrong direc
tion. Why had J not, been contented to
keep in the right road?
Hold on! Was that, alight, or are my
eyes playing me false?
I stopped, holding on to the low resi
nous boughs of a hemlock that grew on
the edge of the bank; for it actually
s'-emed as if the wind wound seize me
bodily and hurl me down the precipitous
descent.
It vets a, light thank Providence—it
was a light, and no ignis fatuus to lure
me on to destruction and death.
“Ilalloo-o-o !”
My -voice rang through the woods lito
il clarion. J plunged onward through
tangled vines, dense briers and rocky
banks, until, gradually nearing, I could
perceive a figure wrapped in an oil-cloth
capo, or cloak, carrying a lantern. As
the dam light fell upon his face, 1 almost,
recoiled. Would not solitude in tlm ‘
woods bo preferable to the companion-j
ship this withered, wrinkled old man?
Put it was too late to recede now.
“What’s wanting?” lie snarled, with a
peculiar motion of the lips that seemed
to lea.ro it’s yellow teeth all bare.
“I am lost in the woods; can you direct
me to B—- - Station?”
“Yes; V. - Station is twelve miles
from here.”
“Twelve miles'.”
I stood aghast.
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me of any shelter I could
obtain for the night?”
“No.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Drew’s, down by tho maple
swamp.”
“Is it a tavern?”
“Would they take me for the night ? j
I could pay them well.”
“His eyes gleamed; the yellow stumps!
stood revealed once more.
“I guess so; folks do stop there.”
“Is it far from here?”
“Not very, about half a mile-.”
“Then let us make haste and reach it. !
I am drenched to the skin.”
Wo plodded on, my companion more I
than keeping pace with me. Presently
we left the edge of the ravine, entering |
what seemed like trackless woods, and '
keeping straight on until the light gleam-1
ed fitfully through the wet foliage.
It was a ruinous old place, with the
windows all drawn to one side, as if the j
foundation had settled, and the pillars
of a rude porch nearly rotted away.
A woman answered my fellow-travel- :
er’s knock. My companion whispered a j
word or two to her, and she turned to ]
me with smooth, voluble words of wel-!
come.
She regretted the poverty of their ac
commodations; but I was welcome to
them, such as they were.
“Where is Isaac?” demanded my |
guide. (
“He has not come in jet/* *
I sat down on a wooden bench beside
tho fire, and eat a few mouthsful of bread.
“1 should like to retire as soon as pos
sible,” for my weariness was excessive.
“Certainly.” The woman started up
with alacrity.
“Where are you going to put him ?”
asked my guide.
“Up chamber.”
“Put him in Isaac’s room.”
“No.”
“It’s the most 'comfortable.”
“I tell you no !”
But hero I interrupted the whispered
colloquy. ' 4
“l am not particular —I don’t care
where you lodge mo, only make haste.”
So I was conducted up a steep ladder
that stood in a corner of the room, into
an apartment ceiled with sloping beams
and ventilated by one thnall window,
where a cot bedstead, crowded close
against the hoard partition, and a pine
table, with two or three chairs, formed
the sole attempts at furniture.
The woman sat'the light- an oil lamp
on the tabic.
“Anything more I can ’.get you, sir?”
“Nothing, thank you.”
“I hope you will sleep well, sir. When
shall I call you?”
“At four o’clock in the morning, if
you please. I must walk over to R
Station in time for the 7 o’clock express.”
“I’ll be sure to call you, sir.”
She withdrew, leaving mo alone in the
gloomy little apartment. I sat down
and looked around me with no very
agreeal do sensation.
“I will sit down and write to Alice,” I
thought,. “That will soothe my nerves
und quiet me, perhaps.”
“I descended tho ladder. The fire
still glowed redly on the heal th beneath;
my companion and the woman sat, beside
it,, talking in a low tone, and a third per
son sat at the table, eating —a short,,
stout, villainous-looking man, in a red
flannel shirt and muddy trowsors.
I asked for writing materials, and re
turned to my room to write to my wile.
“My darling Alice.”.
I paused and laid down my pen as I
concluded the words, half smiling to
think what she would say could she
know of my strange quarters.
Not. until both sheets were covered did
I lay aside my pen and prepare for slum-'
her. As 1 folded my paper, I happened
to glance towards the couch.
Was it the beam of a human eye ob
serving me through the board partition?
There was a crack there, but only black
and arkness beyond; yet 1 couhl have sworn
that something had sparkled bah fully at
me.
1 tool: out my watch--it was one
o’clock. It was scarcely worth while fori
me to undress for three hours’ sleep. I
would lie down in my clothes and snatch
what, slumber 1 could. So, placing my
valise close to the, head of my bed, and
barricading the loclsless door with two
chairs; I extinguished the light and lay
down.
At first I was very wakeful, but grad
ually a soft drowsiness seemed to steal
over me like a misty mantle, until, all of
a sudden, some startling electric thrill
coursed through my veins, and I sat up,
excited and trembling.
A luminous softness seemed to glow
through tho room—no light of the moon
or stars was ever so penetrating —and
by the little window I saw Alice, my
wife, dressed in floating garments of
white, with her long, golden hair knotted
back by a blue ribbon, apparently she
was beckoning to me with onst.retched
hands, and eyes full of wild, anxious teti
derm ss.
I sprang to my feet, and rushed toward
her, but, a:; I reached the window. Un
fair apparition seemed to vanish into the
stormy darkness, and I was left alone.]
At the self-same instant the sharp report,
of a pistol sounded —I could see the jag
ged stream of fire above tho pillow—
straight through the very spot where ten
qiinutes since my head had lain.
With an Instantaneous realization of
my danger, I swung myself over the
edge of the window, jumpitS? some eight
or ten feet into tangled hushes below,
and as I crouched there, recovering my
breath, I heard the tramp of footsteps
into my room.
“Is he dead ?” cried a voice up the lad
der, -the smooth, deceitful voice of tho
woman with the half-closed eyes.
“Os course ho is,” growled a voice j
back; “that charge would have killed ton !
men. A light, there, quick, and tell
Tom to be ready.”
A cold, agonized shudder ran through
me. What a den of midnight murderers ;
had I fallen into? And how fearfully i
narrow had been my escape.
With the speed that only mortal tor- 1
ror and deadly peril can give, I rushed
through the woods, now illuminated by
a faint, glimmer of starlight. I know
not what impulse guided my footsteps—
I never shall know how many times I
crossed my own track or how close 1
stood to the brink of the deadly ravine :
but a merciful Providence encompassed
me with a guiding and protecting care,
for when morning dawned, with faint rod
bars of orient light against tho eastern
sl*v, I was close to the high road, some
seven miles from R-— ; .
Once at the town, I told my story to
the police, and a detatchmont xvas sent
with me to the spot.
After much searching and many falso
alarms, we succeeded in finding the ru
inous old house; but it was empty—our
birds hail flown : nor did I recover my
valise and gold watch and chain, which
latter I left under nty pillow.
“It’s Drew’s gang,” said the leader of
the police, “and they’ve troubled us
these two years. I don’t, think, though,
they’ll come hack here just tit present.”
Nor did they.
But the strangest part of my story is
yet to come. Some three weeks subse
quently I received a letter from my sis
ter, who was with Alice in her English
home a letter whoso intelligence filled
me with surprise:
“I must, tell 3 r ou something very, very
strange,” wflbte my sister, “that happen
ed on the night, of the 17th of October.
Alice had not been well for sonic time; in
fact, she had been confined to her bed
nearly a week, and I was sitting beside
her, reading. It was lati—the clock had
just struck one —when all of a sudden
she seemed to faint away, growing white
and rigid as a corpse. I hastened to call
assistance, but, all our cfforls to restore
animation were in vain. I was just
about sending for the doctor, when her
senses returned as suddenly as they had
left her, and she sal up in bed, pushing
hack her hair and looking around her.
“Alice I” I exclaimed, “how you have
terrified u-< all. Are you ill ?
“Not ill,” she answered, “hut I feel so
strange. Gracio, I hax r o been with my
husband I”
And all our reasoning failed to con
vince hereof the impossibility of her as
sertions. She persists to this moment
■that, she saw you and was with you on
the 17th of October—or rather on the
morning of the 18th. Where and how,
she cannot tell, but we think it must have
been some dream. She is better now,
and I wish you could see how fast she is
improving.”
This is my plain, unvarnished talc. I
do not pretend to explain or account for
its mysteries. I simply relate facts.
U 1 psychologists unravel the labyrinlhal
skein. lam not sujterstitious, neither
dn J believe in ghosts, wraiths or appa
ritions; but this thing I do know -that
although my wife was in England in
body, on tho morning of tho 18th of Oc
tober, her spirit surely stood before ine
in New York in the moment of the, dead
ly peril that menaced me. It may he
that to the subtle instjnet and strength
of a wife’s holy love, all things are pos
sible; but Alice surely saved my life.
A i!j»S WqWinns for litmltrtinU:?.
The Griffin News, alluding to tho fact
the Bankrupt Court in that city is full
of cases under the operations of the re
cent decision of the. United States Su
preme Court, thus and. fines the status of
the bankrupt after lie files his appli
cation for bankruptcy:
Ist. The Bankrupt is allowed the
same exemption provided by the State
laws, to wit: real estate to the value of
82,000, and personal effects to SI,OOO,
on a specie valuation. This is the con
struction put upon the law by till the
Registers in Bankruptcy whose opinions
we have h ard of, but lawyers, like doc
tor:;, will di; agree, and some of them
hold that tlm allowing of this exemption
is a question at leaded with considerable
doubt.
2d. Under tho Bankrupt act itself,
an exemption of £SOO is. allowed in house
hold and kitchen furniture, and other
necessary articles.
3d. He is allowed to sell enough of
his effects to raise attorney’s fees and offi
cers costs.
dth. If the assignee gets hold of as
sets epual to fifty cents on the dollar of
his indebtedness, contracted since the
first of January, 18(19, which are proven
in court against him, gets a full and final
discharge, hut if they arc not, the exemp
tions are set apart and judgment for
such balance as he may lack of having
this fifiy per cent, will stand open against
him, unless his creditors consent in writ
ing that he may be discharged.
I.’ - ling matter on every pa:;'
Xfli: AVVFL IJ, BAPTISM.
INTERESTING DETAILS OF THE DIXON DIS
ASTER.
Dixon 111., Mat 4.
A terrible accident, involving a fearful
loss of life, occurred here this afternoon.
The rito of Baptism was in course of ad
ministration to a number of recent con
verts to one of the. Baptist, churches here,
at a point on Rock River, just before the
Truesdoll iron bridge. About two hun
dred persons, including many ladies and
a number of children, liad gatherod on
the bridge to wit ness the ceremony. Sud
denly, without warning, the bridge gave
way and precipitated its living freight in
to the stream below. The scene which
ensued was
.INDESCRIBABLY TERRIBLE
as the struggling victims vainly endeav
ored to free themselves from the ruins of
the bridge and from each other; the largo
crowds of people on the banks mailed
wildly to and fro, many of them so dis
tracted with terror as to be unable to
render any assistance. Others, more
self-possessed, speedily brought ropes,
planks and boats, and went nobly to
work to rescue the living and recover
tho dead. Some of those who were on
the bridge, when it foil were so near tho
ends that they were unable to reach the
bank without assisance; while others
were fortunately within roach of those on
shore. But up to op. in.
THIRTY-TWO DEAD BODIES
had been taken from the river, and it is
almost certain that there are others still
under the wreck of (.he bridge. Twenty
four, rescued alive, were more or less in
jured, some fatally.
Dixon, 111., Midnight.
Up to this hour no other bodies of tho
victims of tho bridge disaster have been
recovered at this point; but several arc
reported to have been picked up at Ster
ling, six miles below, and doubtless the
swift current has borno others even far
ther down the river. The general esti
mate of the number lost is from ninety
to one hundred. As stated in previous
dispatches, thirty two-bodies were recov
ered from tho wreck before dark. Rive
other Bodies floated down past those en
gaged at wreck, and have not yet been
recovered. There are, therefore, suppos
ed to bo at least
FIFTY BODIES STILL UNFOUND.
Most of them, it is thought, are uuder the
wreck of the bridge. The bridge was of
iron, of the Rusdell pattern, and had five
spans elevated about twenty feet above
the water, which at this point is from
I fifteen to twenty feet deep. Only two
| spans, the end spans, fell. Tho three
I middle spans are still standing, but in
| sucli condition that it is thought they
I will fall when the wreck of tho end span
jis cleared away. Workmen are busy to
| night putting in place derricks with
which to raise the fallen spans, an l mak
i ing arrangements to s.euro the bodies
! beneath. It is now stated that there
I were
NEARLY THREE HUNDRED I'EOPLE
! on the bridge at the time of tfm accident,
I and more succeeded in escaping than
j was at first feared. At, the time of the
j accident tho most of the people were
I gathered at either end of the structure,
though a large number were near the
centre. Some of the latter remained
| where they wore when the crash came,
j and were afterward taken off by boats,
i Several of the men jumped from their
! precarious resting place into tho river j
! (mil swam to the shore. Two horses and j
! buggies were standing on the middle j
spans and are still there, there being no |
| way of taking them off. There were a j
! number of
REMARKABLE ESCAPEE OF CHILDREN, |
of whom there were probably not less
than fifty on tho bridge when it wen!
down. One little fellow, about thirteen :
vears old, was cau /lit by both feet in the J
I iron rigging of one oi the falling spans, j
and had one of his legs broken. He
I managed by sheer strength to pull one j
of his Loots off, tearing tho sole off in
S the process. Then coolly taking out his
knife, he ripped the other boot from the
! foot of the wounded leg, and crippled as
|he was, swam ashore. Two little girls,
sisters; were standing side by side, and
went down together. As tii.y reached
the water the eldest caught the other by
her dress with one hand, and with the
other clung to a portion of the iron work
and hung fast to it up to her neck in icy
water, until they wore both taken oft' by
boat. There is so much
EXCITEMENT AMD CONFUSION
. that it is impossible to-night to procure
; more definite information in regard to
the number lost, but the estimate givin '
above is believed to be nearly correct. I
No attempt will be made to recover any j
i more bodies until, morn ng and the corn- ;
1 i-ktion of derri Is and other apparatus. 1
[52.00 per Annntrt
NUMBER 20
A Merchant’ll Uaiuimer Becomes
Kiiiminicit ufa Negro.
In tho most fashionable portion of
West Philadelphia, says the Philadelphia
Telegraph, in an elegant mansion thero
dwells a merchant of good standing, re
spected by all with whom he comes in
contact, and honored by every member
of his trade. A man, who, loving hia
family better than life itself, has given
to hia loved ones a heart glowing with
affection, and surrounded by all that the
heart can desire, and yet this out.poring
of a noble heart's affection lias not met
with the united gratitude which certainly
is its due, and which our Creator has
made instints first law. Our merchant
friend has reared to his utter dispair a
beautiful daughter, who, we are grieved
to say is on the road to a life of sin.
In early years the girl was taught the
first lessons of a Christian life. Under the
watchful care of a happy father, with the
aid of a mother’s loving heart, and to her
was tendered all the luxuries of life, her
friends making her every wish a study,
for whieli she was thoroughly grateful
until within tho last year or so, during
which time she has been a source of great
torture to her parents.
Being now at the happy age of ‘seven
teen she is a girl who could engage the
affections of all wdio met her; and render
her home a paradise instead of the cheer
less waste she has at last made it.
For sonic time back the merchant’s
family has had engaged as washerwo
man, a colored girl, who lived not far
from the young lady who is the subject
of this sketch. The "daughter, from somo
unknown cause, paid a visit to the homo
of the domestic, and there met a brother
of the girl—a coarse negro of robust
form—
THE CAUSE OF ALL THE MISERY,
.Who was married and living with his
wife.
Strange to say an intimacy sprung up
between the young woman and this man;
which soon ripened into an affection
which We cannot term love. The girl
listened to the ensnaring voice other ad
mirer, and when a proposition of an
elopement, was broached by him she ac
cepted without a murmur. ,
The time and place of meeting was
fixed, and the young lady returned to her
home to make he" preparations for de
parture, knowing the infamous course
she was pursuing, though not without a
slight feeling of shame. At the ap
pointed time the two met, and repaired
at mice to (hi side of the river, the girl
utterly regardless of the anxiety her a' -
seneo would cause her parents, and the
treacherous negro repudiating the claims
of the wife to his fidelity as a husband.
As soon as the disappearance of tho
young lady and In r lover was learned by
the parents their agony was great, and
tho police were at once informed of tho
affair, and a search was begun for the
wayward girl. After days of deep anxi
ety and torture experienced by the father
and mother, through which they passed
sleepless nights, Sergeant Ryan of thq
police force found the guilty pair in a
house in Bay street, in the lower section
of the city, revelling in their sin and
shame. They-were taken to the fifth
district station house, where the mer
chant, sick at heart, once more set eyes
upon his daughter.
He read her a severe but deserving
lesson, to which she paid no heed, but
declared her intention of remaining true
to her protestations of love for the de
graded being who had brought grief to
the home of happmess. Not knowing
what other course to pursue, the unhappy
father requested that she he sent to the
House of Refuge, and the girl was re
moved to that institution.
Her colored paramour was held to bail
in a heavy surn for his appearance at
court. "W e refrain from mentioning any
names in connection with this affair, be
came of the great reputation the mer
chant and his family bear in this eoniwu
nify.
A f.d'fo: ma law court is asked to de
<•'<l: a ijiii st.ion of inheritence in a fami
ly will li got itself mixedup in the fol
lowing lmuiui r, as related by a local
cbioniele: Tile father separated from
his wife several years ago and went to
Kansas. The wife followed her husband
and settled near him. The son of this
couple parted from his wife, who married
again, her husband being her step-moth
er’s brother. Her husband died, howev
er, and she was subsequently married to
her first husband’s father. As the mat
ter stands now, the old gentleman is step
father to li's grand sou; the son’s former
wife is his stt p-mother, and his own son
is his step-brother, and the father’s wife
is his danghUr-.n-lxir.