McDuffie weekly journal. (Thomson, McDuffie County, Ga.) 1871-1909, May 29, 1872, Image 1

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VOLUME 11-NUMBER 21. &hc Ifonvnal, IS PUBLISHED WEEKLY —A T— THOMSON-. C3-.A.., —B Y— 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. BUSINESS CARDS. 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 —ALSO— >semi-Cliii»:», French China, Glassware, Ac. 244 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga aprlO ly. lift. T. I, UALUEBSTEBT OFFERS III!S PROFESSIONAL SERVICES To the Citizens ol Thomson and Vicinity. He can bo found at the Room over Costello 3, when not professionally abseut. REFERS TO 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, GEORGIA. - Tr ir-Jent & Permanent Boarding. ■% jau3l )y . Globe hotel. S. '.V. CORNER BROAD & JACKSON STS., AUGUSTA, GEORGIA. 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, Warrenton, Ga. 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 Middle Circuits, no I—ly JAMES A. GRAY & C 0„ Have Removed to their New Ir*on Front Store, BROAD STREET, AUGUSTA, GA aprlOtf JA.7IES SI. HULSEY’S Steam Dyeing and Scouring ESTABLISHMBISrT,; 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. g?octnr. Georgia. 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. UJisallaueom 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 depot windows. 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 you named.’ ‘Not know him ? Is not this their house V she asked looking anxiously round. ‘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 cumstances.’ ‘ls not this the home of Nathan Gris wold ?’ she asked again, rising trem blingly, and with face blanched even to her lips. ‘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, said aloud: ‘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 ued : ‘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 friends.’ ‘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 her complaints. ‘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, most 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 was expected. ‘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 the sitting-room.’ 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 ing it. 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 her thoughts. ‘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 ter.’ ‘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, especially Fred. ‘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 house. 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 prostrated. 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. Waviijje Irish. 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 patent ?’ 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 York Observer.