Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XIV.
J. F. SHIELDS
—AT
OM Stand On Railroad treet.
Genuine Cuba Molasses, Magnolia Hams, White and Yellow Corn, Fresh Meal,
Jriour of all Grades.
Don’t fail to try our Patent Flour, Finest grade known to the trade. Gives every
body satisfaction. Try it.
Haiman Sweeps, Grain Cradles, Fine Lines of Hardware, Saddles. Harness, Plow-
Bridles, Haines, etc.
Wagons, one and two-horse, Buggies from $65 to Finest, Live-and-let-lfve Prices.
STOVES. .
Full Line—New Prices. Our Prices Drive out Compelition. Have sold One
Hundred and Seventy-NinO Stoves from Nov. Ist to May Ist.
Thanking my friends and the public for a generous patronage, I respectfully ask a
bontinuance of the same, promising my best efforts tojjdeserve tho same.
N. B.—Hides, liags and Wax taken in exchange for goods.
J. F. HIIIKLD^,
Thomson, Ga., May 9, 1885.
' -
Great Inducements.
.The Cash Jobbing House
Are offering the Greatest Inducements ever known in
m GOODS, NOTIONS, SHOES, HITS, &C.
——
If Low Prices will sell the goods we mean to sell them.
The following facts will enable everybody to see why it is wo can sell goods so much
cheaper than they c&u be bought elsewhere:
First.—Our goods are bought for cash.
Second.—They arc sold for cash.
Third.---Our expenses are com
paratively light.
Therefore we can sell any gooffw in our line at just what they cost, oilier mer
chants who buy on long time and are burdened with expenses. Below we will mention
only a few of the many bargaius we are now offering :
Priuted Lawns from Ito 2V cents per yard. Best Union Lawns :
and Pique* at sc, worth 6| and 7i cents. Calicoes in endless varieties j
Jrom 3to 5 cen s per yard, for best quality'. Pleached Homespun from
4$ U P to 8 cents, ior the best. Pants Goods from 6 cents per yard up
Ladies, Misses and Gerls Hose at 5, 10, la end 25 cents, worth 10, la, 25
and 35 cents We have a large and well selected stock ofWhite Victoria
Lawns, India Muslins, Checked Muslins, Embroderios, Irish and Tarchon
Laces at prices that defy competition by any' house in the South. Six
quarter Oil Cloth at 15 cents per yard. *
DRESS GOODS!
* Our stock in this line very complete, consisting of Black and Col
ored JSunticgs, Nun’s Veiling, Kber Cloth, Black Sil s &c. It will be
lo tho interest of evory one to examino these goods before purchasing.
Yo r can buy B tiling at 6i cents, worth 10 couts. Figured Press Goods
t 6s, 7£ and 10 cents per yard, worth 10, 12J, 15 and 20 cents.
*
Straw Hats!
From 6 cents up. Nobby Hats for Boys and Men at 10, 15, 25c.
Shoes, Shoes.
Ladies Shoes and Slippers at any price from 25 cents up. Children
and Misses Shoes at prices to suit anybody'. Crockery, Glassware and
Hardware at Cost. We haven t the space to mention prices, as we
would Uke, but o rdially invito every one to come und examine onr stock.
The above figures will no doubt astonish you. Therefore we ask you to
come and see that the prices are correct and be convinced that we mean
just what we say,
Don’t forget the place,
The Cash Jobbing Cos,
J. 3D. IMLA-'Z", IMlansig-er.
THOMSON, GA,
"
HARD SENSE!
■ —--—— "
It in a fact generally known that J. F. Shield* k Cos., have the largest stock of Dry
Goode, Shoes and Notion* in Thomson.
It ie ah known that the more you buy of an article the less you have to pay for it in
proportion.
It therefore follows that having the largest stock our goods did not coat us as much
in proportion as it cost others who buy less.
It also follows that we can and should sell for less than others and yet make a fair
profit.
Ju&t What We Propose to Bo
We have just received a beautiful line of Ladies Dress Goods, such as Worsteds,
Brocades. Suitings, Kyber Cloths, Nun’s Veilings, Mohair, also tho largest and most
Stylish line of Ginghams ever seon here.
A Urge lot of Muslins and Lawus to suit taste and purse. White and Colored Laces,
Silk and Satin Trimmings to match Dress Goods.
Evitt 4 Brothers Ladies Fine Shoes a ipecialty, Evitt A Brother* Ladies Fine Slip
pers, Opera, Newport, Oxfords and San !als, and other shoes in every style and quality.
We have something new and beautiful in Colored Mitchelino Counterpanes that will
be all the fashion.
We have a large line of Gentleman's Clothing. Very Low, for cash.
Also fine Shoes high cat, and low quartered.
A large assortment of Misses’, Boy’s and Men's Hats,
We have the best Sewing Machine made, never had a complaint, warranted to’
please. We will sell them on the installment plan to suit our customers.
J. F. Shield!* Sc Co 5
No 3, Brick Bow, Thomson, Ga
THOMSON, GEOBGIA, WKI)N KSHAV, MAY 371, 1885~
Mother’s Friend !
A PRECIOUS BOON TO WOMAN,
Words of Bruise.
I most o irn entreat ivery female ex
peeling to be confined to use Mothers’ Re
liet. Coupled with this entreaty I will
add that during a long obstetrical practice- j
forty four yen s, I have never known it to !
fail to produce a tafe and quick delivery. !
H J. Homes, M. D.
A lnav from one of the counties of Mid
dle Georgia who ha- been acting midwife
for many years, writes: “I have disposed
of all the Mothers’ Friend you sent me, and
lam delightful with it. In every instance
where it lms been used, its effects have
been all that I could ask. I it a
great blessing.”
A gentleman writes: “My wife used
your Mothere’ Friend at hex fourth confine
ment, and her testimony is that she passed
through it with one half tho suffering of
either of her former confinements, and re*
favored from its effects in much less time.
She also recommended it to a lady friend
who was about to be confined for the first
time, and she says : “I havo never seen
auy one pass through this great trial with
so much ease aud so little sufferings.”
A QUICK AND EASY TIME.
A distinguished physician of Mississippi
writes: I)very one expecting to bo con
fined should ÜbC tho Mothers’ Frioud, foi
during a long obstetric practice I have nev
er known it to fail to produce a quick and
safe delivery.
This remedy is ouo about which we can
not publish certificates, but it is a most
wonderful liniment, to bo used after tho
first two or three months.
Send for our treatise on the Health and
Happiness of Woman, mailed free, which
give* all particulars.
The Bradfield Regulator Cos.,
Box Atlanta, Ga.
/Sgrißlw
['- i
Will purify the BLOOD, retru-
Lite III.* U VFR .111.1 KIDNEYS,
1 1 ‘tif YOUTlt.^
- 1 -r-—* sDuulh-s llrulu I’owt r.
i LADSES
ti u\ i.i DR. IIAKTER’H IKON TONIO u af.< nod
Ii prcHy . ur.. (. Ivr ■: i rt-’.ir, healthy cottipk'Xhiii.
l'r< ijtn ,iL !t!ti-ni|iK ul IjOlin* ri* IHllff only add
I*. ( i* * iM.iHibrli v cl|lm original. 1) uolcxpuri*
UJi.’M! .'Vi 111. OhICUNAI. AM> In -T.
fl • i .. Mo., lor onr “DREAM BOOK. ■
i.ll ul biiuiigu bud Uttrful mloi mnUim, Irmi.^
HOME COUNCILr^
We tnko pleasure in calling the attention
of mothers to x home cure for all discuHCK
of the Stomach and Bowels, an odicino so
long needed to carry children wifely
through tho critical stage of TEETHING.
PITTS’ CARMINATIVE,
Is an incalculable blessing to mother and
child. It is an instant relief to colic of in
fants. a disease with which infants suffer so
much Hit* fir. t four months of their life. It
gives sweet, rest to tho sick and fretful
chihl. ft strengthens and builds up the
weak, gives appetite und flesh to the puny,
corrects drain from tho bowels, cures
Diarrhoea and Dysentery. A panacea for
children. Try one bottle. It coat* only
TWENTY-FIVE CENTS A BOTTLE.
READ
Ff R herein is infermution thnt may save
you many dollars I want to tell the read
ers of this valuable paper why I can afford
to sell my goods no very cheap for cash.
While other dealers depend upon a eiw>h
trade fo their existence, Ido not. My in
tilhai busnoss nets mo such a profit
that should i fail to make a r,ingle sale for
cash during the year. J would come out
with a handsome profit. Hence you see
why T can afford to wel for a profit that
would ruin any cush deller. Another im
portant reason is Hiatal buy only such
goods as 1 can sell reqfi , thus avoiding h
constantly increasing ilyad Htock whica
must be worked off ata deetual loss. Then
again I have not l.an a depots crowded
for the last three and the ur months, with
storage arid iuteres or fog up more than
a good profit. Imb eaiii.large and expen
sive iispl iy of rtn tke no goods and you
do not have to pay for my carrying such a
stock
Please Consider
how much you contribute, towards paying
ioi such elegant and costly display, I make
no unnecessary expenses and am detcr
mjned to sell lower than any house can.
Tn other words I ana going to sell whether
f make any profit or not.
In addition to a full line of furnituio I
sell CLOCKS, BICXUitES, WINDOW
SB AD EH, COOKING STOVES, Ac., and
manufacture all kinds of MATTRESSES.
Orders by mail attended to.
Coffins ami Biiik! Cases
Fifiiiislieii at
LOWEST PRICES
L. F. PADGETT,
1112 BROADST’BEE. AUGUSTA, GA
?o feafo GOOD HEALTH tl.o T.TVEU tnw;* fee Urpt t„ orW.
S^WS
mmowm
DR. SANFORD’S LI/FR INVICORATOR
Juxfc wbat ita name implies a Vejretabw Wvoj
Medicine.n4 reKnltinc fromadc-anßcd
'*r torpid condition of the Liver: nuch als*.!iottHneM
Cont jvcnesß, Jntindice. Dyspepsia, Mxlarm, Hlck-
Ilcadftche. Rheumatism, etc. An Invaluable Fam
ily Modic.me. For full infoitn.v, ion Pend voitr ud
drrne on a postal c;rd for li/1 pave book n tb®
s l.iver and it* Di*/* a -eV* to DR. bXSkOhu, 24
Duarte Btreefc, ifrw York.
i*CGP.iT ni;.L itklAj 100 ITS UirU.T.‘Tlo3l. -
THE GOLDEN liDI.
There is many a rose in tliJ ioad of life,
If we only would Rtop toy.alee it;
And many a tone from thewi tter land,
If the querulous heart make it;
To the sunny soul that is ff 11 of hope,
And those beautiful trusl* ae’or faileth,
Tho grass is green and |ho floweis are
bright, l
Though ‘he winter storai pMvaileth.
There is many a gem in thd path of life,
Which wo pass in our idUi-olensuro,
That is richer far than the I veled crown,
Or the miser’s hoarded tv#*sure ;
It may be the love of a littll child,
Or a mother’s prayer to I*>. >veu,
Or only a beggars grateful fh i*ks
For a cup of water given.;
Better to weave in the web of life
A bright and golden filliug.
And to do God’s will with a rgaily heart,
Ami hands that are ready Z&? .villiug.
Than to snap the delicate, minute threads
Of our curious lives usunder,
Aud then blame heaven for tr ogled ends,
And sit and grieve and wonder
Dark Days.
BY HUGH OONWAY,
Author of “Called Buck.”
CHAT I KK XT.
SPECIAL PI.LADING.
it was over! She knew! The hope which*
may have buoyed my spirits, that I’hilippu’s
agitation at learning of Sir Mervyn For
rand’s doatli was hut duo to tho fact that
ouce she loved the man entirely vanished. I
could see no loop-hole of escape, no possi
bility of persuading her that she was fancy
ing horrors which had never taken pine *.
Moreover, although 1 would have given my
lib' to have saved her from the knowledge
of this thing, I could not meet the eyes of
her I loved, and lie to her.
I did Indeed, if but for the sake of gain
ing time, attempt to stammer out some
evasive answer; but she interrupted me be
fore I had spoken five words.
“Why do l ask?” she echoed. ‘‘l knew it
all—all-all I In dreams it. lus come lo me
—tho whitened road —the du’ldead face
tile whirling Hiiow! In dreams I have stood
over him, and said to myself, ‘Jle is dead 1’
Rut, Basil, my love, my husband, 1 thought
it was hut a dream. 1 drove it away. I said,
‘lt must he a dream. I lmt and Idm, and so I
dreamed that I killed him.’ Basil, dearest
Basil, tell me, if you can, that I dreamed It!”
Her voice sank into accents of piteous en
treaty. Who looked at me yearningly.
“Dearest, it must have been a dream,” 1
said.
She threw out her arms wildly. "No, no l
It was no dream. Even now 1 can see my
self standing in the night over that motion
less form. lean feel the cold air on my
check'. 1. can see myself fly iiig through the
snow. Basil, I hated that mail, and 1 killed
him!”
The tears were sir 'amlngdown my cheeks.
I seized her hands, ar.il stibve to draw her
lo me. She tom herself uny grasp,and
throwing luus'Mf wildly on Bui bed. broke
into a pnroxvmi of sobs. As \ approached
her she turned her head from me.
“I killed him! killed him I”shewhispered
in awe-slun k tones. “Oh, that fearful night!
J.l has haunted mo ever since. I knew not
why. Now 1 know! He wronged me, aud
I killed him! killed him !”
I placed my nrm ar- und her neck, and my
cheek against limv. As she IVIt my touch
she started up wildly.
“No, no!” she cried. “Touch me not!
Shun me I S irink from mo! Basil, do you
hear? Do you understand? 1 have murder
ed a man J”
Dmm more she threw herself on the bed,
her whole traino quivering with anruish.
“A shamed a ruined woman !” she mut
tered. “A villain’s forsaken toy, and now
n murderess! You havo chosen your wife
well, Basil!”
“Swoeted. I love you,” I whispered.
*‘L *ve in •! H>w can you lov ■ me? Such
lov is not Indy. If you love me, aid me. to
die, Basil! Dive me something that will
kill me! Why did you save my life?”
“B cause I loved you then, as 1 love you
now.”
Sim was silent, and 1 hoped was growing
calmer. I was hut waiting for the first
shock of her newly-born knowledge to pass
away, in order to reason with her, and show
her that by every moral law she was guilt
less of the fearful crime. .Suddenly site
turned to me.
"How did I kill him?” she said, with a
shudder.
“D ‘.'treat, rest. We will talk again pres
ently.”
"How did I kill him?” she repeated with
vehemence.
"lie was found shot through the heart,” I
answered, reluctantly.
"Shot tliroudi his heart—his wicked
heart! Shot by me! How could J have shot
him? With wiial? Basil, tell me all, or I
shall go inad! I wiil not have the smallest
thing concealed. 1 will know all!”
"He was shot with a pistol.”
"A pistol! a pistol! iloiv did T come by
it? Where is it?”
"L threw It away.”
"You? Then you knew!”
I bowed my head, i felt that concealment
was useless. Sim must know all.
1 told her everything. I told her how she
had promised to come for me; how, as she
did not keep that promise, I went in search
of her. I told her how site had swept past
me in the snow-storm; howl had overtaken
her. I repeated her wild words, and told
her how the fat and weapon had fallen at my
feet, and how I had, oil the Impulse of the
moment, hurled it away into the night; how
Vie had broken away from me, and lied
down ti c loiK’ly road; how, excited and ter
rified by her words, 1 had gone oil to learn
:heir meaning; how I had found the body of
Sir Mervyn Frrand; without thought of
concealing the deed, I had laid the dead
man by the roadside; howl had rushed
:iorue, and found her, Philippa,-waiting for
me. and in the full h ight of temporary in
b mity. I told her all this, and I swore that
from the moment I discovered that her
senses had gone astray I held her, although
she had done so dreadful 1 a deed, as inno
cent of crime as when she slept, a babe, on
her mother’s breast.
She listened to m ; with fixed dilated eyes.
She interrupted in •. nether byword ncr ges
ture; but when I had finished speaking she
covered her face with her hands, and great
tears trickled through her fingers. "No
hope! No hope!” she eri ’d. “Oh, Basil, I
dared to hope that something you would tell
me would show me it was not my hand
which did this thing! My love, my own
love, w * have been so happy while I could
persuade myself all this was a dream! We
shall be happy no more, Basil!”
Although she still shrunk from me, by
force I drew her to me.' and laid that poor
head on my should* r. I strokeiJThe smooth
black silky hair, X kissed the white forehead,
and used every endearing and soothing ex
pression that love such as mine c ud sug
gest. 11l vain! Tin mom mil T loosened my
hold inv wife fled from my side.
"Basil,” she cried, "you knew It! You
knew the blood of a man was on my hands!
Again I gfiysriefa love iffnot holy!”
- Dearest, again £ tell you that in my eyes
—if the truth were known, liftfioeyes of all
—you are Innocent as a babe.”
.She shook her head* hop losslj-. I saw
that not.ling at present could move, her.
j Perhaps it was more than I had a right to
i expect. So for the time I g ve up arguing.
* I beuted in r for mv fake to retire to rest. I
gave her a soothing draught, i sat oy her
for hours, and hehljier hand, until at last]
her eyelids fell, aud, worn out by grief, she :
slept. |
Oi). how right l had been in choosing j
flight 1 Although a cursed chance had re
vealed what l fondly hoped would be for
ever buried in oblivion, how right 1 had
been! Had the hands of Justice grasped my
sweet wife, although she ’might no doubt
have been found guiltless, the trial, the ex
posure, would have killed her. Thank i
heaven, she was safe, and amenable only to ’
the tr bunal of her own sensitive consci ‘nee!
When I heard her breathing grow regular,
aud knew that she was in a deep sleep, I
pressed my lips gently to her fair cheek,
and left her. 1 went m search of my moth
er, ami made the best rale I could think of
to account for Philippa’s indisposition. I
forced myself to wear a smiling face, and to
listen with a show of interest to the account
my mother gave me of certain difficulties
which had during my absence arisen with
some of the native servants. But there was
nothing which could really interest me
when I thought of my poor love lying there
sleeping, to wake, alas! to sorrow and re
morse. No wonder that, as soon as I had!
spent with my mother the smallest portion
of time which filial duty and gratitude ex
acted, 1 Hew back to Philippa’s bedside.
1 watched beside her until she awoke —un-
til her splendid dark eyes unveiled them
selves. 1 leaned over and kissed her passion
ately. Between sleeping and waking, while
consciousness was yet in abeyance, she re
turned my caresses. Then came back mem
ory and its terrors.
"Leave me,” she said; “I am a murder
ess 1”
One *morel denied it; once more I told
her she was innocent. My only hope was,
that by continued argument. 1 might, in time
ease her mind. She listened almost apa
thetically. 1 grew eloquent ami passionat e.
Was l not pleading for my own sake as well
as Iters? If I could but persuade her she
was unaccountable for what she had done,
some remnant of the happiness which a few
days ago 1 had promised myself might even
now be left.
“Basil,” she whispered, "1 havo been
dreaming horrible things. Will they try me
—and hang me?”
"We are in Spain, dearest. Even if you
were guilty, the English law could not reach
you.”
She started. “And it was for this you hur
ried to Spain? To save me from a felon’s
death?”
“To save you from vvlmt, in your state at
the time, you could not bear. Isay again
you are innocent, but 1 dare not risk the
trial.”
She was silent for some minutes; thensho
si.”!..'-.
“I am proud, passionate, wicked,” she
said; "but I could never have meant to do
this. I was mad! I must have been mad!
Basil, you could tell them 1 was m id. They
would believe you and forgive me.”
She looked at me imploringly.
"I could stand up,” 1 said, "and state on
oath that you were at the time In a raging
delirium. 1 could pledge my professional
reputation that your actions were the result
of madness. Fear nothing on that score, my
wife.”
1 spoke boldly; but as 1 spoke a thought
shot through me a thought which blanched
m cheek and brought the beads of perspira
tion to my brow, f km‘w woHgh o! law to
be aware that a husband could not in a
criminal case give evidence for or against
his wife. Mv marriage with Philippa had
deprived her of the benefit of my testimony
as to her insanity. I trembled like a leaf as
I pictured what might happen in the event
of her being tried for the murder of Sir
M< rvyn Ferraml. T’bo very nurses had but
seen her sane. No one but myself ami per
haps my servant had seen her in her mad
ness.
My dem y was such that 1 was bound to
leave tin* room, in order to recover my pres
ence of mud. Again mid again 1 thank' and
heaven that \ve were on foreign soil. The
thought that my unreasoning love might
have destroyed her 1 loved was almost more
tluiu 1 could bear.
I fancy I have lingered long enough over
that terrible time, when my wife first learn
ed that the dream which had haunted her
was reality -that her hand had unknowing
ly avenged her supnosed and profiled Dated
wrong. L t me but say that the mental
anguish into which the knowledge plunged
her was not unattended by physical evil. In
fact, for many days my poor girl was ill,
v.-ry ill. My mother and 1 nursed her with
every care, and by and by youth and a
splendid constitution reasserted themselves,
and, a shadow of her former self, she was
able Io leave her bed. Mynnther was ten
derness itself toiler daughter. She knew
nothing of the true cause of her illness; in
deed, she blamed me roundly for pot having
Ink-n proper care of my beautiful bride,
and vowed laughingly that for the future
nothing should Induce her to trust Philippa
out of sight.
Now that Philippa knew all she had done,
I thought it better to toll her that, although
he had no intention of so doin'/, S.r Mervyn
Ferraml, in causing a mock marriage to b ■
celebrated, bad hy a strange chance really
made her his wife. This gave her little com
fort. "It. makes my crime the greater,” she
said, bitterly. "1 have killed my husband
instead of my seducer! 1 am not fit to live!”
Weeks went by. PhiHppa gradually grew
stronger, and, what was even more a cause
of joy to me, calmer and more reasonable
on acerlainsubj et. With all the power I
could bring to bear, Iliad never ceased to
impress upon her that morally she was in
nocent, and I believed my words were bear
ing fruit. Her fits of. mental anguish and
self-reproach grew of less frequent occur
rence. Bhe did not, whenever we were
alone, continually harp upon her crime.
Calm seemed to settle upon us once more,
and I ventured to hop • that the great physi
cian, Tme, would one day bring to my
wife’s heart something that might be called
s .rrowful happiness; but 1 knew i must
wait years and years f r this.
She was changed, greatly changed. Her
lil>s seldom smiled; her eyes never bright
ened, unless When she saw me drawing near.
She .scented older and graver. But I knew,
in spit; of a PI, she loved me with a death
less love.
Although at last Wo had ceased to discuss
the sorrow of our life, 1 suspected it was
seldom' absent front her mind. Sometimes
ns I lay beside her f heard her moaning and
talking In her troubled dreams, and too well
I knew the cans '. As my arm stole round
her, and:assured her of the safety and cer
tainty of my great love, In my heart I cursed
the dead man whose evil deed had brought
such lasting woe on the fair head pillowed
on my bosom. All me! what life might have
been for us two, now that IbVe reigned be
tween us!
O ce—it was shortly after Philippa began
to creep, a weak invalid, about the fragrant
patio -she said to me, with evident mean
ing in her voice. *
"Basil, do you see the London papers?”
"Sometimes—not always. I have almost
forgotten England.”
"PromL.se me you will see them every
day.”
"i will, if you wish; but Miy?”
Her voice sank.
"Can you not guess? Basil, listen, lliavc
consented to be guided by you. lam pl ay
ing that tiic day may coma when I shall
think as you think. But what if an Inno
cent person were rCctred of tho crime I
have committed? Then (here is but one
course; you could urge nothing against it.
Promise me you will see the paper every
day as sooli'dk It Reaches here. I shall have
no peace unless you do.”
I promised fearlessly. Justice does some
times make mistak s, but not suc‘i a mis
take ab the one hinted at by Philippa. No;
Dir Mervyn j? errand's aoatn was a mystery
never to be solved. So, to set my poor wife
at case on the matter, 1 wrote and ordered
that the Times should be posted to mo every
day.
[7b be Continued .]
Tho Penalt y of Skepticism.
“Como mighty nigh killin’ a fine buck
dia mawninV” said an old negro.
“Cornin’ long through the woods an’
or ole buck ho jump up, an’ bookerty,
bookerty, he runs oft* a few yards
an’ stop still. Come in ono or shootin’
him, satu”
“Why didn’t you shoot?”
“Didn’ hub my gun wid mo, sah.”
“Then how did you come in ono of
shooting him?”.
“ ’Case, sah, I como in ono o’ taking
my gun wid mo.”
“Why didn’t yon take your gun?”
“Didn’ hub none, sah.’ 1 *
“You are an old fool.”
“Look heali, doan ’buso or man dat
way when yor ain’ got nocause. I ain’t
got no gun,for a feller dat Iwuz orbout
tor buy ono frum, axed mo jes’ SI
mo’ii I could pay. So, I como in one
o’ gittin’ do gun. If I had er got it I
would er tuk it Tong wid me, an’ of
I’der had it I could or shot do buck
easy, sah. So doan come ’roun’ busin’
er man when do facks is all orgin yer.
J hub knowod folks to fetch trouble on
dar ’selves dat way. Er pusson ought
er ho keerful in dis heali worl* o’ sci
ence an’ speckcrlation. Goodmawuin’,
sah. Since yer’s acted dis way, I
wouldenter gin yer none o’ do moat of
I had or killed it. ’Fore yer talked dat
way L woulder made yer present o’
some o’ do buck. See vvhut yer got by
it, sah.” —'Texas Siftings,
Gould’o Precautions.
It is rat her remarkable,but it is true,
that Jav Gould does not employ an
amanuensis. Ho writes all his own
letters. The word “all” does not sig
nify "many.” for Gould replies to very
few letters, and the communicationsJio
does write are brief, lie is always in a
hurry when ho writes, and it seems as
if his pen could not travel fast enough
to suit him. Gould puts the little he
has to say in as few words as possible,
and his pen races over the paper like a
steeplechaser in tracing out tho charac
ters. Morosini o ous all of Gould’s
letters and throws away all that do not
actually require to be read by Gould or
replied to by him. Gould would not
have tlmo to look at tho tape once a
month if he read and answered all the
loiters that came to him. People ad
dress him oh nil sorts or subjects, but a
good share of them want to know how
they can make money. Morosini drops
the messages containing the solicitous
inquiries into the waste-basket. Gould
is much like tho Czar of Russia, who
flics food and mysterious packages on
liis underlings to see if they survive
them. If Morosini is not poisoned or
blown tip Gould will risk taking things
sen bio Id m. But the w'dy lurtiun, ii
lie Jhas auy suspicions of a package,
will send a clerk out in the hall to open
it near Russell Sage’s door. If the boy
comes back whole Morosini will go
through the contents without a tremor.
“Falsum in Omnibus.”
Young Lawbricf was in a confidential
mood, lie was getting on famously
well, had been taKeu into partnership
with a reliable firm, and was doing the
“junior” drudgery under the impres
sion that lie really was a good deal of a
lawyer for a young one.
“Yes, I’m getting on nicely,” he said
to a friend. “I’mahout ready to settle
down into a married man with fixed
habits et ux.”
“Ft ux?” musingly inquired his
friend. “Who is to be the delightful
et ux?”
“Oh, I haven’t got so far as that yet.
I suppose there are young ladies will
ing to make the sacrifice.”
“What’s the matter with the senior
pard V daughter?”
“Very agreeable; decidedly pretty,
all l)iit her teeth -they are false.”
“What’s that? False teeth are the
rule nowadays,”
“Falsuin in uno, falsum in omnibus.”
—Hartford Tost,
The Oominfi Goats.
For full dress the regular “swallow
tail” has, of course, the lead, but wo
are pleased to note that great liberties
are being taken with this sedate, time
and usher-honored garment. Each of
our leading houses has its own pet
ideas about the most artistic form. In
fact, a diverge 1 ce of opinion lias re
cently developed which unmistakably
illustrates a feelfbg of decided satisfac
tion with the iron-bound laws which
have been so long obeyed in tho pro
duction of this coat.
Tho double-breasted frock is as popu
lar as ever. For day dress there is no
other style so suitable, and it is also a
great favorite for business wear by
professional men' and others whoso'
business requires them to be particular
ly well dressed. It is made about the
same as last fall, tho changes being a
lower roll and slightly wider shoulders,
with sleeve a trifle larger. The lengths
are the same.
Morning coats are made to close
with four, three or ono button, the
four-button form being decidedly the
most popular. Tho features common
to these forms arc high shoulder seams,
moderate waists and full length,
moderate width of back at waist, wider
shoulders, and larger sleeves than last
season, a lower opening than last sea
son* and more general ease.
Hi walking coats a style which will
enjoy some favor is made with a waist
length of twenty and a full length of
thfrty-two inches. This coat is but
slightly cut away in front, rolls about
the same as a morning COHt and has
rather wider shoulders. Made from
eheck ot pi aided goods, it is a very at
tractive garment.
No matter what other styles mhy bo
in favor, the sack always enjoys a con
siderable popularity. For otlice and
business wear, there is no other style
so comfottable, Convenient, and suit
able, aud for this reason no other can
displace the sack in popular favor. Be
sides these ail vantages, 1 the sack looks
well in, and is better adapted to, tho
ntote pronounced styles of fabric than
any form of the frock. For tho coming
season, the four-button sack with a
light roll, say four Inches deep, with
tho fronts boldly rounded from tho
lower button, will bb tlm favorite style.
——
One of the funny bills in the Califor
nia Assembly iV Ono which (ji'/es to any
young man under twenty-olio years' of
(age. who learn!* a trade hy serving ah
; apprenticeship for three years and is a
! moral young man, §250 outof the State
Tr^auiicv.
NO. 21.
The Chances of Fewer Marriages*
Girls are no more angels thi tin men
are apes, and there are other vices be
sides impurity, such as eftvy, unchari
tableuoss, malice, Untruthfulness, and
ill-temper. Are all tlio vices on our
side? Post-nuptial backslidings are
worso than ante-nuptial divagations,
aud if the balance is to be struck after
marriage it is not easy to say on which
side tho slide would be. There is one
lesson which we, all of its, in what
ever rank or society wo may be, havo
to learn, and the sooner we learn it.
tho bettor—tho lesson of humility, of
modesty, of economy. We are n a
longer the lords of creation; we have,
no longer a monopoly of capital or
production, rents and interests will
fall lower still, and unless we realize
tho situation, come down from our
high horse, and moderate onr views of
stylo and expenditure, very serious
trouble will overtake society. Wo had
better give up sneering at those “dirty
foreigners,” and imitate a little of their
frugality. But the example must be
set by those ab6ve; so long as the
loaders of tho great world indulge in
display, thoso below will spend their
last shilling in an insane attempt to be
in tho running. Diamonds, lace, cost
ly fabrics, whether for dress or furni
ture, long and lavish dinner parties,
heavy suppers after balls, all these
things might bo made unfashionable
by a wave of Zcnobia’s wand. Unless
some change of this kind is made in*
our habits, or unless some happy rev
olution occurs in our economic history,
there will be fewer marriages than ever
in Vanity Fair: —The National Review ;
Opiates.
Tin* first indulgence is in some sense
legitimate; is almost enforced, either
by acute pain or by chronic iusomnia.
The latter is perhaps the most danger
ous. Tho pain, if it last for weeks,
forces recourse to the doctor before
tho habit has become incurable. Sleep
lessness is a more persistent, and to f
most people a much less alarming
thing; and it is moreover one with
which tho doctors can seldom deal save’
through the very agents of mischief.
Neuralgia, relieved for a time by chlo
roform or morphia, may be cured by
quiuino; sleeplessness admits of hardly
any cure but such complete change of
life as is rarely possible, at least to its'
working victims. And tho narcotist
habit ouce formed, neither pain nor
sleeplessness is all that its renunciation 1
would involve.
The drifnkard, it must be remom
bered, gets drunk, as a rule, but oc
casionally. Save in the last stages of
dipsomania lie can do, if not without
drink, yet without intoxicating quauti
titio.s of drink, for days together. The
narcotist who attempts to go for a
whole day without his accustomed dose
suffers in 24 hours far more cruelly
than the drunkard deprived of alcohol
in as many days. The effect upon the
siomadi and other organs, upon tho
nerves as well as on tho brain, is one
of indescribable, unspeakable discom
fort amounting to torture; a disorder
of the digestive system ruore tiffing
than sea sickness, a disorganization of.
the nerves which after some hours of
unspeakable misery Culminates in con
vulsive twitchings, in mental and
physical distress, simply indescribable
to those who have not felt i(L
Where attempts have been made for
cibly and suddenly to withhold tho ac
customed sedative they havo not un
frcquontly ended within a few daj r s in
madness or death. In other cases tho
victim has sought and obtained relief
by efforts and through hardships which,
in his or her best days, would have
seemed impossible or unendurable.
Ono woman thus restrained escaped in?
deshabille from her bedroom on a win
ter night of arctic severity; ran for
miles through tho snow, and was fortu
nate enough to find a chemist who’
knew something of tho fearful effect of
such privation, and had the sense and’
courage to give in adequate quantity
the poison that had now become the
first necessary of life. In a word, nar
cotics, one and all, are, to those who*
have fallen under their power, tyrants
whoso hold can hardly ever be shaken
off, which punish rebellion with the
rack, and with all those devices of tor
ture which mediaeval and ecclesiastical
cruelty found even more terrible than’
the rack itself; while the most abso
lute submission is regarded with suf
ferings only less unendurable than the
punishment of revolt. De Quin coy’s
dreams under the influence of opium'
were to' the tortures of resistance what
tho highest circle of purgatory may be’
to the lowest pit of the inferno. —The
National Review.
•
Saltpeter in Nevada.
The saltpeter beds of Nevada are far
bettor situated for tho development of
their deposits than tho nitor region of
South America, which is a desert en
tirely devoid of water and all vegetable
life, and where tin* development can be
accomplished only by surmounting
many difficulties; the provisions of the
miners have to be transported from
long distances; the water supply for
all purposes is condensed from the
ocean water and carried to the niter
li ids, while fuel has to be procured
from tho mountains in the South of
Chili. In Nevada, we are told, the
saltpeter deposits are in the vicinity of
a rich farming country, with an abund
aut supply of water and food close at
baud, and the niter can be furnished at
prices considerably cheaper than that
for Which Che South American article"
can be obtained.— N. Y. Sun.
—i ■ ■
Tliff latest iliing in stockings does
axVay with garters or supporters from
nbovo. Tho hosiery is kept in’ its place
hy lacing from under the kudo to tho
upper bulge of tiio calf. Tims the cir
culation of the blood in tho limbs is not
impaired.
Tho New York World publishes tho
portrait of the handsomest women in
Now Jersey, whereupon tho Buffalo'
Hxprcss cruelly comments: “It repre
sents a person who is nearly up to the'
average standard of fdmininS bdanty as’
recognised in the United Slates.”
An eccentric individual residing in’
Detroit keeps his face detail shaven and
his hair clipped close by singeing, and"
bis cheeks, chili anil upper lips are
marked with many sears where they
have beCii seared by' thd red hot pinto
or steel with which he plays the bar
ber
During a lifetirmt of fifty years a man’
on’tilt!' average spends 6,000 days in
sleeping ami tho sauie amount in work
ing; 2(ooo'days ih eating, 800 in walk
ing, is ill 60 1 days, and the remainder
of tho half century— nearly nine years
—is frittered away iu recreation aud
amusement.