VOLUME 11-NUMBER 21.
IS PUBLISHED WEEKLY
RONEY & SULLIVAN,
RATES OF ADVERTISING,
Trausient advertisements will be charged oue
dollar per square for the first insertion, and seventy
five cents for each subsequent insertion.
E. S. HARRIS OnT
PJiysician and Sui’geon
Offers his services to the public. Office with Dr.
J. S. Jones, over McCord & Hardaway's.
aprlOoiS Thomson, Ga.
>.i Mtf’BPrrr fc ca.
Wholesale and Rotail Dealers in
HI HITE GMIITE Si E. E, IME
>semi-Cliii»:», French China,
244 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga
lift. T. I, UALUEBSTEBT
To the Citizens ol Thomson and Vicinity.
He can bo found at the Room over Costello 3, when
not professionally abseut.
Fro- J A. Evk, Pno. \V.w. 11. Doughty, On
John S. ColkmaN, Du. S. C. Eve.
t, , Jl . i» i: v c ock,
Qrc-jii ss< »•«?>«.r,
- Tr ir-Jent & Permanent Boarding.
■% jau3l )y .
S. '.V. CORNER BROAD & JACKSON STS.,
JAOKSON & JULIAN, Proprit’rs-
We beg leave to call the attention of the travel
ling public to this well known Hotel, which we
have recently leased and placed on a footing
second to none in the South. No expense will be
spared to render it a first class House in every
respect, and every attention is paid to the comfort
and conveniencesf guests.
O ZEST TIME
TILL THE FIRST OF NOVEMBER.
J WILL furnish planters find others in want of
* II O it S
on City Acceptance, till Ist November next, at
cash prices. D. COHEN,
apr 3 !3m3 Augusta, Ga.
LUMBER. LUMBERT LUMBER!
A NY quality or quantity of Pine Lumber de
/\ livered at Thomson, or JT Mile Post on the
Georgia Railioad, low for cash.
Poplar, Oak or Hickory
Lumber sav ed to Jill orders at special rates. v
J. T. KENDRICK.
February 21, 1 872. 7ai6
CHARLES S DuBOSE,
WPI practice in all the Courts of the Northern,
Augusta & Middle Circuits.
11. O. RONEY,
Attonun at liafo,
mo.nso r, f../.
BKL. Will practice in the Augusta, Northern and
JAMES A. GRAY & C 0„
Have Removed to their
New Ir*on Front Store,
BROAD STREET, AUGUSTA, GA
JA.7IES SI. HULSEY’S
Steam Dyeing and Scouring
I*l3 Broad St., Augusta, Ga.
Near Lower Market Bridge Bank Building for the
Dyeing and Cleaning
of dresses, shawls, cloaks, ribbons, &c. Also gen
tlemen’s coats, vests and pants cleaned and dyed
in the best manner. Piece dry goods, cloths, ine
rinoes, delane, alpaca, rep goops and jeans dyed
and finished equal to those done in New York.
CrT Orders by Express promptly attended to.
Augusta, Ga. apr.3m3
Svapnia—is Opium purified of its
siknening and poisenons properties, discovered
by Dr. Biglow, Professor of Botany, Detroit Medi
cal College. A most perfect anodyne and soothing
opia.te John Farr, Chemist New York.
BY EDWARD iOUXG HILL, JR.
Fair Georgia! how my full heart swells
As that proud name salutes mine ear;
What scenes it wakes in Memory's cells—
How grand thy destiny appears.
Although no more among thy hills
Thy wandering son a home may claim,
My lyre in boldest measure thrills
Whene'er I breathe thy glorious name.
Old Yonah. in his solemn pride.
Lifts from thy breast his craggy piles,
While at his feet his lovely bride,
The beautiful Nacooche, smiles j
And Kennesaw his double head
From thee uprears in power serene,
\Vhiie near him o’er its pebbly bed,
Hulls Chattahoochee’s azure sheen.
Upon thy soil hath nature raised
Her monumental granite rock,
Around whose brow for ages blazed
The lightenings, yet it felt no shock;
For calmly wrapped in cloudy gray,
Defying Time e’en from its birth;
It stands, naught telling of decay,
The greatest monument on earth.
Fair Learning’s gifts by thee are showered
O’er every one : on every hand.
Old Flanklin counts her foster sons,
M ho stand in Fame’s proud sane, by scores,
And Mercer boasts her honored ones,
Whose minds were trained within her door.
From Oglethorpe’s time-honored halls
Have issued men thou claim’st with pride,
And Emory’s venerated walls
Have sent forth minds of giant stride.
Upon her hill environed plain,
Doth beauteous Marietta stand;
’Tis hers in arts of War to train
Future defenders of our land.
Towards the Western header lino,
Near Chattahoochee’s silver stream,
Where groves of maple oak and pine,
Drive off the sun’s too garish beam,
A village sits midst c’®ssic shades,
Which fairer grows ky every change,
And many bright-eyed, laughing maids,
By the are fostered, sweet LnGrauge.
Where on thy deep Atlantic coast
Break the wild emerald gitoi;
Savannah stands—tho proudest boast—
The “forest city”— sea-port queen.
And farther north, thine inland mart,
Augusta lies, fair as a dream ;
And northward still, thy throbbing heart,
Atlanta with its pulse of steam.
Great. Empire of the sunny South!
Thy wanderer greets thee from afar,
Thy praise is eve** in my mouth!
Upon our flag, thou brighest star,
May thy pure rays beam ever bright!
Thus will I pray where’er I roam,
May no fell discord quench thy light!
Land of my birth, my youth's loved home.
The Getting into the
W rung Carriage,
The day was bitter and cold, the
track covered with snow, and the east
ward bound train, ot course, behind
time. The waiting male passengers
stamped out their impatience upon the
cheerless, wind-swept platform, and
the females huddled around the stove,
endeavoring to peep through the dirty
Conspicuous among these might have
been seen the pretty face of June
Tracy. She was young, anxious and
unaccustomed to travel alone; but
having received an invitation from an
old bachelor uncle and maiden aunt
who lived in luxurious selfishness alone,
had, after much urging on the part of
her mother (who had already visions of
June being heir to their immense
wealth), consented to make the visit.—
The letter giving the invitation con
tained minute directions how she was
to reach the city, and informed her
that a carriage would he waiting at the
New York side of the ferry on a speci
fied evening, unless they were notified
on the contrary.
June had early and always impressed
upon her the primness and propriety of
Aunt Prudence Griswold, who was
fifty and unmarried, and the vast
wealth and parsimony of Uncle Nathan,
and sat, with many forebodings of dis
comfort, watching for the train, and
was half tempted to let it go on with
out het, when it at last dashed up to
the platform. The cry of ‘AH aboard’
decided the matter, and she followed
the rushing throng, found herself hus
tled into a seat with scarcely and voli
tion upon her part, and was whirled
rapidly away toward her unknown and
and terrible relations.
A long and weary ride brought her
to the depot, and as she was preparing
to leave the cars, a motherly old lady ad
vised her to muffle up her ears or she
THOMSON, McDUFFIE COUNTY, GA.,' MAY 29, 18721.
‘would certainly freeze them in that
senseless little hat.’ She smiled in re
ply, but wound a soft, white wool
cloud about her head, so as to leave
nothing visible but a pair of bright
eyes, the tip of a pretty nose, and red,
ripe lips, and followed with a palpitat
ing heart through the noise and confu
sion, and shunned the vulgar gaze
of the men, glad indeed, when the
stormy river was passed.
‘A young lady here for the Griswold
carriage ?’ shouted a man so near her
ears as to almost deafen her.
‘Yes ; lam the one,’ she faltered in
reply, feeling as if she had suddenly found
a friend amid the bedlam of jostling,
fighting and importuning.
‘This way, if you please, Miss.’
In a moment she was led through
the crowd, seated upon the soft cush
ions of an elegant carriage, and was
driven rapidly through the brilliantly
lighted street, half dazzled by the unac
customed glitter and splendor.
At length stopped in front of a
brown stone front, the door was open
ed, a servant assisted her to alight, she
walked up the broad steps, and instant
ly was clasped in the arms a gentle
man, who rained warm kisses upon her
lips, gave her a thousand welcomes,
called her pet names, impetuously lift
ed her in his strong arms, carried her
into the cozy reception room, placed
her in an arm chair before a blazing an
thacite fire, and began to relieve her of
the cumbrous wrappings. Man-fashion
he tore off' the cloud, and, loosening
the fastening of her hair, caused it to
fall in a mass of lovely golden ripples
over her Ehoulders.
‘What the devil /’ he 'exclaimed,
starting and crushing the juanty little
hat in his hands, then gazing speech
less at the beautiful girl who sat com
pletely stupefied by the unexpected
warmth of her reception, and woqder
ing where was her curmudgeon of an
uncle she had 'expected to see—tvonder
ing if it could possibly be he, and ven
turing to call him Uncle Nathan, gsked
for Au?it Prurience. ’
‘Uncle Nathan ! Aunt Prue—the
duce! There must be some mistake
here. I know of no such persons as
‘Not know him ? Is not this their
house V she asked looking anxiously
‘lt certainly is not. Until Iso rude
ly removed your wrapping—for which
I beg your dardon—l thought it was
my sister Eva, whom I am expecting
home from boarding school. The mis
take was a natural one under the cir
‘ls not this the home of Nathan Gris
wold ?’ she asked again, rising trem
blingly, and with face blanched even to
‘No, Miss, my narfie is Buswell, and
I am master here.’
It flashed upon her in a instant that
the somewhat similarity of names had
caused her to make the mistake, and
glancing up at the dar7c, handsome face
of him whose kisses were still burning
upon her lips, her own became scarlet,
and covering her face with her pretty
white hands, she sank back in the
chair and burst into tears.
Fred Buswell puckered up his mouth,
and went through the motions of an
imaginary whistle. ‘Poor thing!’ he
though. ‘By Jove 1 but she is hand
some ; it is no wonder that she became
frightened at receiving such dear em
braces from an entire stranger, when
she expected to be coolly welcomed by
some antiquated uncle. But he could
not endure the torture of a lovely
woman’s tears, and, clearing his throat,
‘Do not be alarmed, Miss. I regret
as much as you possibly can, that I
was so hasty in my conclusions.’ The
wretch ! when he was luxuriating upon
the kisses he had stolen and was long
ing for more.
Up flamed the color between the del
icate white fingers, and the tears fell
even faster than before. He saw that
he was ma/ting matters worse, and
with a mental and not every refined
expletive, he stopped short, walked to
the other side of the room, rang the
bell and ordered the carriage sent back
to the depot to see if Miss Eva was not
waiting there. Then he resumed his
place upon the hearth rug. Resting
his elbow upon the mantle, he contin
‘I entreat you, Miss, not to feel so
badly over a slight mistake, and one
to which any one was liable. It is
more laughable than otherwise. As
soon as the carriage returns I will see
that you are taken safely to your
‘I thank yotc» sir,’ she replied, slow
ly removing h'er hands and, wiping
away, the tears," ‘but if yon do not
know who they are, how shall ] be
able to find them ? I only know that
my uncle’s name is Nathan Griswold,
and that he lives in University Place.
His carriage was to meet me at the de
pot, and I understood |ho coachman to
say‘GrisvVold,’but he was so muffled,
and in such ajitrrry, that I had no time
to question.’ ■
A vigorous^,tinkling of the door-bell,
and he excused himself and stepped in
to the halt* 1 W” Tndfjt YiisTsister. Poor
June could, hear'thgir voices—the sister
playfully scolding because-she had been
so long waiting*in that horrid depot,
until she was almost frozen, and then
had to ride in a lumbering old hack,
and close by was Fred and standing on
tiptoe she gave'him a sisterly kissi
June could sv ( > through the half-open
door, and felt Mu; a guilty usurper, as
tho little lady continued to pour forth
‘Why, Fred you ain’t a bit glad to
see me. I expected to be hugged and
kissed out of breath as usual, and I
meet with a J reception as formal as if
you were niy grand-father—or hus
band /’ Ai>d her laugh rang out clear
as the note|i of a silver bell.
But it yttffdenly cut short. She
had followed her brother into the re
ception rooiij, and started buck iu as
tonishment lat the beautiful stranger
who sat there with streaming eyes and
disordered hdir. The timid, shrinking
manner increased the loveliness of June,
and the impulsive Eva stood for a mo
ment in mule admiration, and then
gasped out :
‘Who is she Fred?’
‘This is Mists ’ he began.
‘Tracy,’ suggested June.
‘Miss Tracy, who, by a stupid blun
der of the coacfj/.n&n, was brought here
in your place..’ i.\
‘Well 1 ah> || to fall
into the handsX "-t gentleman,’ replied
1 • i.lly at her brother.
* -r.-’SV ,ve'ft vj W& \rii (y&fflfoeutcd tfuegy,
at home—deck-v oJ 'lbat she would keep
her until mon*Arig ; that until then noth
ing should bet done to ascertain where
Mr. Griswold Mi ved, and in the end tri
umphed, and (took her to her own bright
room to arrange tier hair.
In the company of the qiirilncllc Eva,
June soon forgot her vexation, and the
late dinner And the evening passed
pleasantly—bad almost forgotten her
singular entrance into the family. But
now and then a smile would curl the
mustache of fried Buswell, as he thought
of his funny mistake, and how agreeably
it had turned out; and tho tell-tale
blush deepened on June’s cheeks, as she
caught the expression of his eyes, and
revealed tUa&flze-L:*! noUfkrgotten his
overwarm nidniner of greeting.
To one acquainted with the city and
its directories', the finding of her uncle’s
house was not a difficult task, and, after
breakfast, Evei. and her brother escorted
her thither, promised to call soon, and
then mutually pleased. Un
cle Nathan received her kindly, but in
a different way from Fred Buswell, lie
was tall, guantugrim ; wore old fashion
ed clothes, and a huge, pointed shirt
coliar that constantly threatened to am
putate his ears. With a few words he
handed her over to the care of his sister,
who fitted the name of Prudence per
fectly, and was art exact counterpart of
himself clothed in ypetticoats.
‘My dear child, *ie exclaimed, hold
ing up her'Jairtis uqholy horror, ‘what
a terrible risk you flan in taking the
wrong carriage. Tile gentleman who
called upon us this ftiorning explained
the matter, and I never was so much
shocked iu my life.’
‘Mr. Buswell is a perfect gentleman,’
returned June, seeing tm.it some reply
‘Well—hem!—yes, I 'suppose so.
But come up stairs now arid take off
your things. To think of your being
alone with a strange young man! I
know I should have fainted.’
June blessed her stars that her aunt
knew nothing of what had transpired—
nothing save that a mistake had be?m
made—nothing of the warm embrace
and kisses;,and mentally thanked Fred
Busweli for hfif reticence.
‘This is your room, my dear. When
you have arranged your toilet, your
uncle and I will be happy to see you in
Everything bore marks of wealth,
but was as antiquated as its mistress.
The heavy, tall posts, old fashioned iron
bedstead, with its quaint canopy and
curtains, must have belonged to the
grand-father of Miss Prudence. It con
trasted grimly with the pretty little
French one she had occupied with Eva
Buswell; so in fact did everything.
But the room was large and pleasant;
everything was neat and arranged for
comfort, and June soon became at ease
and happy. At least she would have
been if Aunt Prudence had not so fro
zen the Busvvells when they called and
there was little danger of their repeat
The truth was, the old maid distrust
ed the good looking Fred. She could
not but own to heiself that he was a
gentleman in every respect, but as she
had concluded to adopt June, she was
not going to have any horrid man
around to pursuade her into foolishly
getting married, when she intended her
to be the comfort arid nurse of her de
clining years. Henceforth June, with
all her life, and youth, and loveliness,
was to be a sort of prisoner; never go
ing out save to ride in the old barouche
of the Griswold when the weather was
warm, with the stern, yellow face of
Miss Prudence, looking more ugly by
contrast with the bright, dove-eyed,
golden-haired girl who accompanied her.
Occasionally they met Eva Buswell and
her brother, dashing along in their neat
phmton, surrounded by a party of friends,
and June turned away sighing, and
with difficulty keeping back the tears.
But she dared not give expression to
‘The Buswelk are nothing to you, my
child, and never can be,’ said Aunt
Prudence, who they chancad to be dis
coursing one day upon the manner of
her coming. ‘They did only what was
proper under the circumstances; just
what your uncle Nathan and I would
have done; but they are frivolous,
fashionable people, and tho sooner you
cease even to recognize them the bet
‘They were very kind, aunt.’
‘Yes, I know, and your uncle and I
wrote them a fo.rmfWetter of thanks.
That balanced the obligations.’
It was the Jastriimethe subject was
mentioned ‘between thremj and ft length
blnfy passed each other as almost stran
gers. Not that Eva and her brother did
so until they found it impossible to keep
up the acquaintance. They reasoned
correctly that such a state of affairs was
not according to the wishes of June to
whom they had taken a great fancy,
‘The devil take the old ogress of an
aunt,’ lie muttered, as he saw June
passing, looking even more lovely than
on the night of the first meeting. ‘I
wish that something might happen so
that I could gain an entree into the
He wouldn’t have confessed, even to
himself, that he had fallen in love with
the girl at first sight. No, nothing of
the kind. He only pitied her on ac
count of her close confinement, when,
like other girls of her youth and beauty,
she ought to been enjoying her life, as
a bird does sunshine and liberty to flirt
among the flowers. But try as he
would to thin# of some plan of visiting
her, and was about to give up in des
pair when an accident came to his relief.
On returning home one evening from
a ride, lie saw a crowd collect in front
of his door, and upon inquiry was
told that art old man had fallen from
apoplexy. One glance revealed to him
who the man was, and he instantly or
dered him to be carried into the house,
and dispatched his sister to Prudence
Griswold and her niece. They came.
Physician were summoned, but all in
vain. Nathan Griswold never aroused
from his sleep—was never moved until
he was taken to his last resting place.
Dar k days followed. The blow was
a terrible one to his sister. He had
been to her as husband, children, broth
er, everything. All her love was cen
tered in him, and she was completely
Fred Buswell pitied her sufferings,
and did all that a son could have done
to relieve them. He attended to her
business, would not listen to her leav
ing the house until everything was ar
ranged to her satisfaction, and then he
and Eva accompanied her and June to
a little cottage he had hired and seen
furnished for her, upon the banks of the
river where she had been born.
‘You will not leave'?’ said the old la
dy, whoso entire character seemed to
have changed since the death of her bro
ther. ‘I have not long to stay on earth,
and poor June, what will become of
her after lam gone ?’
She glauced up quic/tly, saw the
eyes of those she had mentioned meet,
understood their meaning and was sat
isfied. All through the summer months
she lingered, tended by her affectionate
niece, aud when the leaves began to fade
and fall she died.
TERMS-TWO DOLLARS IN ADVANCE.
Throughout the Indian Archipelago
there are very savage fish serpents. A
poor white man, sauntering without
shoes over the reef at Pa'merston's Is
land, found his further progress hinder
ed by one of these large fish. Well
knowing its habits, he did not at first
attempt to extricate himself, or he would
have been maimed for life, but allowed
himself to be dragged backward. As
soon as the sea-serpent got to its hole
and began to descend—not suspecting
that its victim would attempt to escape
—relaxed its hold for a second, so as to
enable the man to escape by running
away at full speed. A woman lost two
fingers by an unlucky bite from one of
these fierce denizens of the coral reef.
She went to feel for a fish—a curious
method of fishing in these islands.
Certain holes in the coral are known to
be the favorite resort of a particular sort
of fish. Insert your hand whenever
you will, you find one of the sort refer
red to. This valuable knowledge is
carefully transmitted from parent to
child. On the occasion referred to, the
woman caught a tartar. For instead
of capturing her accustomed fish, she
was instantly made prisoner by a sea
serpent which had devoured the proper
occupants of the hole, and then ta&en
up his abode in his new quarters. The
woman screamed with agony; but the
savage fish did not in the least relax its
grasp. As the tide was rising, the con
sequences might have been serious. As
sistance came at last, a sharp pointed
wood sta/re being cautiously inserted by
the imprisoned hand. The ‘long-mouth
ed’ now released its hold, and set the
woman free. The left hand was cut
right across, the sharp teeth meeting
the bone. Had the woman pulled hard
to get it out, it would have been neces
sary to amputate the hand. Yet in the
course of a fortnight it was restored.
To get at some of these holes it is
needful to dive under water. Occa
sionally, as the fisherman is feeling
about for his prey, the fish, rushing to
escape, literally wedges itself betweeu
the upper part of the arm and the coral.
In such cases there is but little hope
for the poor fisherman. A scholar of
mine was in this way drowned last year.
In some of the low coral islands,
where there are but few in habitants,
these fish often leave the sea, and make
their way over sand and shingle to
ipandamus trees growing near. With
perfect ease they climb up the round
stem to hunt for lizards and rats,
which feed upon the fragrant yellow
and red fruit.— Rev. William. Wyat Gill.
A New Invention.—The Girard
Cosmopolite says that at a certain sta
tion on the Philadelphia and Erie Rail
road, the company has anew night
telegraph operator, who, if inclined to
slumber, is too ingeniously wide awake
to be caught napping at his post of du
ty. The other night he was seized with
drowsiness which he could not shake
off. As it was his duty to report all
passing trains, he dared not yield, and
yet could not resist. That mother of
invention, necessity, at lenth suggested
an alarm signal, which he proceeded to
put in operation, by suspending a scut
tle full of coal by means of a cord, which
was passed through the keyhole of his
office door and fastened across the track,
at the requisite elevatiou. Mr. Opera
ator then resigned himself to rosy
dreams, which was finally interrupted
by a passing train, the engine of which
snapped the cord, causing the coal scut
tle to come down with a rattle-de-bang
that would have aroused even a sleeping
Erie policeman. Another, young oper
ator, some thirty miles up the road,' let
a train slip by him that same uight, and
applied to the inventer of the coal scut
tle alarm to know when it passed his
station. No answer was vouchsafed;
the inventor remarking; ‘Why don’t
the darn fool get the right to use my
Diligence. —We find in Scripture
that most of the great appearances
which were made to eminent saints
were made when they were busy.—
Moses kept his fathers flock when he
saw the burning bush ; Joshua is going
round about the city of Jerico when he
meets the angel of the Lord ; Jacob is
in prayer, and the angel of God appears
to him ; Gideon is thrashing and Elisha
is plowing, when the Lord calls
them ; Mathew is at the receipt of cus
tom, when he is bidden to follow
Jesus ; and James and John are fishing.
The Almighty Lover of the souls of
men is not wont to manifest Himself to
idle persons. He who is slothful and
inactive cannot expect to have the
svveet company of his Savior.— Neto