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Georgia weekly telegraph and Georgia journal & messenger. (Macon, Ga.) 1869-1880, April 09, 1880, Image 1

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v GEORGIA JOURNAL AND MESSENGER. CLISBY & JONES, Proprietors. THE FAMILY JOURNAL—NEWS—POLITICS—LITERATURE—AGRICULTURE—DOMESTIC NEWS, Etc. ESTABLISHED 1826- GEORGIA TELEGRAPH BUILDING. MACON, FRIDAY, APRIL 9, 1880. VOLUME LV—NO. 16. BEYOND. Never a word is said, But it trembles in the air, And the truant voice has sped, To vibrate everywhere: And perhaps far off in eternal years The echo may ring upon our ears. Never are kind acts done To wipe the weeping eyes, But like flashes of the sun, They signal to the skies; And up above the angels read How we have helped the sorer need. Never a day is given, i the But it tones the after years, And it carries up to heaven Its sunshine or its tears; While the to-morrows stand and wait The silent mutes by the outer gate. There is no end to the sky, And the stars are everywhere, And time is eternity, And the here is over there; For the common deeds of the common day Are ringing bells in the far away. —Selected. A BAD SPECULATION. BT EDWARD GARRETT. The Duncombes had lived for twelve years in their little house on the Hamp- tead Road. It was just a brick tenement standing in a row, a very commonplace house, for which they paid the ' common place rent of forty pounds. The Dun combes had come to it after their honey moon, when Harry Duncombe, iu the first flush of youthful ambition and energy, had run over it with his old bachelor as sociates, softening his manifest pride of mastership with the disparaging comment “that it did well enough for a beginning,” and had not scrupled to shadow out the situation and surroundings of the ideal mansion he meant to win. That was twelve years ago; and the Duncombes still dwelt there. The dream- ed-of success had not come yet nor even begun to come. The great red brick house with the Italian garden, standing on the margin of Caen Wood, about which Harry had always whispered to Margaret in their courting time, was far ther off now than it had been on their wedding day. True, their income had in creased, but not in proportion to the claims upon it. There were five little Duncombes, and Maigaret was so keenly conscious of their degeneracy from the quiet, snowy, sweet-tempered cherubs of whom she had dreamed in her early mar ried life, that she found no time to regret her husband’s old castle in the air. She knew too well what wonders a spare triumphant martyr, choosing the stake rather than recantation. Mr. Duncombe had spent a hard Satur day in the city. The very weather was trying with hot sun and east wind. Ex pected payments had failed, unexpected parel, the Indian shawl which somebody had given her at her marriage, would not be too fine for visiting at Heath Castle, and that her black silk gown was not quite too shabby to wear beneath it. Margaret’s was not a strong character. bills had come in. A half arranged order I What little sinew it had, had been im- had been indefinitely postponed. More parted by its. religious training, with its tiying than all had seemed an encounter strengthening rule of regular habit and so- with sundry brother traders. They were her thought. She had always been docile affluent men, keeping more and better and ready to follow, and had hitherto had clerks than his, and they seemed so fresh leading both in the home of her youth and and spirited beside his consciousness of of her married life. She was not awo- jaded anxiety. Their talk was of exten- man to grasp the truth, in all humility, sire speculation and large profit winding that a weak hand may sometimes keep up with allusions to social and domestic the helm right for the moment when the luxuries which never came in his way. j captain falls back exhausted; that where He knew them all well. Knew what the cross roads are uncertain the follower large subscriptions they paid to public I does well to stand still awhile, and not to charity, and what an atmosphere of encourage his pioneer’s hasty impulse by bustle and competence they diffused among a too ready assent. She could not with their dependants. They seemed like Phocion, have reminded the over-eager healthful fertilizing rivers in a word, Athenians, that “if Alexander were really where he was hut a standing and evapo- dead, he would be as dead to-morrow as rating pool. Nearly all of them did sun- he was to-day.” In her household she dry things which he had never done yet— was a little' too much inclined to hurry had perhaps- begun by trading riskily work, and to try new recipes, with property not altogether their own, I “Well, Harry,” she said, “I never and some of them had even learned what I thought of doing what you propose, bankruptcy meant, when judicial inquiry I Visiting anybody in not in my line, you and public opinion were alike lenient, know; and really I don’t know what I He had started with a righteous horror of I shall say to Mrs. Mallock, for there is these things, but, after all, they seemed to never anything that interests me now-a- play with mine, she will be most wel- j and was therefore cheapest in the end. welcome. The darlings do sometimes I They began to give little parties in grow tired of- playing only with each. those days. Mrs. Duncombe thought other. I have a most excellent nurse, : they could do so with two servants, arid and the little lady will be no trouble, hut' dear Mrs. Mallock was always willing to a real boon to us. What a fine lad yOur ! lend her invaluable maid, who knew how eldest boy Is! Steenie—don’t you call • to give a style to such affaire, and whose Inm O XT ait, T 1 ■ La -.I — n .. U -t. .. i i •• i keep the world going round. Surely it would become a stagnant place if every body was like him! But the Saturday wore away at last, and now it was Sunday. Mr. Duncombe felt almost inclined to say that he was too weary and nervous to go to church. But not being accustomed to make such ex cuse, he knew it would alarm Margaret, and so kept to his old habit. Their pew was in a side aisle, under the gallery, and close to a window. They did not pay for it all, and that morning the attendant fill ed it with strangers, and taking into con sideration the smallness of the young Duncombes, intruded one more than the lawful number. Tho sunbeams shot across Mr. Duncomhe’s eyes, and blinded days in the very newspapers, so that can’t even talk about that.” “Take ono of the children with you,” suggested her husband. “Not Tom-^he’s such a pickle, always in mischief. Take our eldest, Steenie. Mallock has a young ster about his age.” And in his thoughts he silently added, “Children makeinti- macios so quickly, and keep thsm up so well.” And so Mr. Duncombe sat down to his tea with a curious sense of refreshment and exhileration. Ho felt he had “a happy inspiration”—as if a new current was rushing into his river of life,'which haply might he strong enough to bear its burden ot hopes and cares safe into some desired haven. If he had only stopped to him, while the unseasonable wind stirred analyze how far this might be physically in his hair and fluttered the leaves of the the result of a few hours’ cessation from books. The children, having no garments worry and turmoil, he might presently between absolute winter ones and abso-I have shrunk from further following the late summer ditto, were kept in the for- I fevered phantasms of his nightmare of mer by their careful mother, and were I exhaustion and anxiety. Or did he really consequently hot and restless. And then I find so much more inspiriting hope in the why would Margaret lend a hymn-book to vague prospect of the favour of an indif- these pushing stupid strangers, who had J ferent and worldly man, than in all the among them a cough like a dog bark? j sealed promises of God, and the expert Generally Mr. Duncombe was hospitable I enced providences of his whole life ? enough to people, but he felt inclined to I ‘Under the mingled influence of a de- punish these for the fault of the pew-open- sire to please her husband, a repressed de er. And then Margaret turned to him as light at»a little forbidden fruit sort of if he quite enjoyed sharing his book in change, and an uneasy wish “to get it spite of its small type. And what a shab- over,” Mrs. Duncombe paid her visit to by thumb her glove had! (She had mend- I Heath Castle the very next afternoon it over night, with a triumphant .belief I She and Steenie were-rather awed by .the that the neat handiwork was neither no- [ great carved portico and the Minton-tiled him? How I like those simple, sub stantial names! I would change God frey, and Evelyn, and Cicely for Steenie, and Jane and Tom, and Jem directly, if I only could. Those fine names were Mr. Mallock’s choice, not mins! Must you really go ? Well, it will be only good bye for the present, and you cannot thmk how delighted I am to have made your acquaintance.” Margaret went home, feeling that in fulfilment of her husband’s wish to estab lish friendly terms with the Mallocks, she had succeeded beyond her wildest hopes. But Low dark and stuffy the house seemed, and how rough little Jane looked, red and riotous from earnest dig-' ging in the back garden I She fell it was true enough that she -was training should really be prized by the raw domestics of the Hampstead Road. The Mallocks were invited, and the doc tor, who was turning Margaret into an excellent chronic patient, and a number of other people who were falling into the habit of leaving cards at the Duncombes’ door. Mrs. Monkwell, and Miss Griffin and- the old Devonshire friend were in vited once or twice, hnt Harry was con stantly adding some new mercantile con nexion to the circle, so that they were presently omitted to make room for peo- people who “must” come. Harry Dun combe felt his temper safer when they were away, for they were sometimes in conveniently candid in their retrospec tions. Gentle, weak Maigaret attempted a compromise by inviting them “to come givfnglnto her hard work and many cares. She might in a friendly way when we are by our- at tea-time, if her I selves.” They had not much enjoyed the have been a little cross i family had been as exacting on her con versational powers as they usually were, but Steenie kept them interested in his recital of wonderful novelties, and left her free to resolve that if she was to ac company Mrs. Mallock for a drive In the park, she must really procure s new par asol and afresh bonnet. “And so you liked the formidable lady after all,” Mr. Duncombe scid, in play ful interpolation of her history of the grandeurs and amenities of Heath Castle. , - “Well, though 1 think she might he neater and brighter, there is certainly a wonderful charm and grace about her. Of course it is only likely that she is very different from Mrs. Monkwell dr Miss Griffin.” Strong-minded, plain-speaking, Mrs. Monkwell had sat up two nights with Margaret when her children had the fever, and had girded her up to submis sion and cheerfulness when her baby died. And Miss Griffin often took'out ticeabie nor offensive.) Mr. Duncombe 'did not hear the ser mon. He would not even have heard the text, only, according to custom, his little hall; hut the appearance of the touzlcd, faded hostess actually put them more at their ease. Such marked slatternliness, in spite of the fashionable and costly robe, twenty Dounds could work in a household text, only, according to custom, Ins little spite or tne lasiuonaoie ana costly rone, to ever^think of twenty thousand and" daughter found it and handed the Bible to would have quite jarred neat Margaret if confined her ambitions to the modest but jIt was—“He gave them their re- seen in a woman of her own position. quest but sent leanness into their souls.” | But poor humanity has a curious arith- yearly one silk dress for herself, while _ it put her in a small fit of despair to realize that the drawing-room carpet was wear ing out. It vexed Harry Duncombe that his wife had to word so closely and Care so hardly. He said to himself sadly that he had not married her for this. It pained him to hear her comment on the next neighbor’s new robe or Paris bonnet, nev er guessing, poor dear man, that half the time the little woman was taking to her self the sweet unction of a sense of thrift and liouse-wifery, even thinking that, doubtless, smart Mrs. Blagdon’s hus band would bo very glad if his wife followed her example. He was sorry to know that she had really no •time for practicing, and could never add another to the repertoire of hymns which she played on Sunday evenings. Not that Harry Duncombe denied even to himself that they were very happy. He knew they were. It was swet o’ nights, sometimes, when Margaret would sit down beside him and chatter in that twilight in terval between the disappearance of the hoys and the arrival of supper. Only the droop of her figure generally told him how tired she was. It was very pleasant to take the whole tribe out upon the Heath in the long summer days, and eit down under a tree and watch the youngsters at their gambols; only liow he wished he could afford a chaise for Margaret, now she had grown such a had walker! Ah, could they ever tak# together those ram bles which he had planned in his young, loving hopefulness ? Could she climb the Righi now ? Could she even scram ble up the Highland hills ? And when they ventured to invite a fuw friends, what merry little reunions they had! It was gratifying to see how pretty Margaret could still make herself in that wonderful old white lace bodice, in which sundry artful tricks of trimming and tacking al ways added pleasant novelty to sweet familiarity; and his old friend who came from Devonshire, said he never tasted such good milk puddings as Mrs. Dun- combe’s. Ob how hospitable they would be if they could only afford it, and how much better it would fare with many a poor, struggling, lonely item in their ac quaintance, if he and his Maigaret could only achieve that old red house with the Italian garden and an income of about a thousand a year! Harry Duncombe was a religions man Both he and his Margaret had come of godly families, and walked in the way of their fathers. Cn tho evening of their wedding day Hany had written on the registry of the new Bible, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lora.” Ho had repeated that vow with a secret prayer every time he added a- new name to the little household record. They were bringing up their children in the way they should go, and if her boys did not attend but a second-class school and her girl was beginning no accomplishment, yet Margaret- thankfully knew that she could trust their word almost against the evidence of her own senses, and however shabby and gawky and hoydenish they might be, they were as obedient and blight and industrious as a mothers heart could wish. There was a little family altar in that little common house in the Hampstead Road, and a sacred, liappy Sabbath day; and yet with all this, of late, Harry Duncombe was begin ning to fret sorely at his way of life as a poor narrow way. It seemed de grading to liis spirit to be always battling so stoutly against the waves of life, and never raising his head higher than-the water-mark. It seemed hard to him that with all his generous impulses, he had to close his liana from giving to others, and to seem near and stingy, while the rich churl was called liberal. It almost broke his heart sometimes to imagine those fine boys of his, living such a life as this in their turn, and his poor little maid Janey —what would become of her? Must she bo a lonely snubbed teacher, while other men’s daughters were walking white- robed, to fresh bountiful homes. Harry Duncombe was letting the world Into lus heart. ’ He could not rest satisfied with God’s promise that “bread shall be given and water shall be sure.” Bread and water seem such mean portions of this world of ours! Harry Duncombe thought —and with some soreness—that he was too safe from temptation. No Satan came •to him, saying. -All this I will give thee if thou wilt fall down and worship me.”. Ho seemed more like a prisoner, ignoniin- iously locked in witli bis treadmill, than a syished it impatiently away me tic, which loves to set richer folks’ to see that things proceed correctly.” heart beinV fulfill** against tbei . r .S ood fortune, as if “I can trusyrou, Maggie,” her husband heart being.fulfilled; ancTfethis soul felt that mfeg biian^ tieif a^t wi«7ite lean enough! He heard the old minister a I own ! ° quiet voice go softly on, but ho thought he • Mrs. ... __ . . . . knew all he had to say, and that it was receive a lady visitor. ShtfOKi tSTmte nothing for him. “Ministers were such many, and she had heard her husband unpractical men,” he said to himself im- speak in high terms of the Duncombes. patiently; “they knew nothing of life as it I She tried her utmost to be agreeable. She was in the actual world.” Poor minister, talked of the theatres, and the latest ap- he was devoutly and prayerfully serving pearances on the stage, hut presently an insignificant suburban charge on a | found that was a region where her guest stipend smaller than Harry’s own despised could not follow her, though poof Marga- iucome, and with no prospect of change, I ret, remembering her husband’s injunc- except to the superannuation fund! I tion “not to be too strict at first,” did not Then the service was over, and there I venture to say that she had never entered was a collection. Harry and Margaret one in her life. She tried upon other only gave sixpence each, because they had j public entertainments, even down to the divided a shilling into three-penny pieces local concert, with little better success, for the children’s contribution. And then Margaret admitted that she was so close- they all went home and partook of cold I jy engaged at home that she knew noth- beef, lettuce, and rice pudding. ing of these things. And then, with her The catechism had been duly repeated, suave voice, Mrs. Mallock asked about and all the hymns recited, and then Mrs. I the number and ages of her little flock, Duncombe, careful to provide her bus- and rang the bell to summon her own. band with the repose he needed, suggested Margaret Duncombe had envied noth- that all the children retire to her bedroom ; n g at Heath Castle till she saw those and spend the time remaining before tea I three dainty children, with their fine in hearing tho el Jest boy read aloud th# I fresh linen and bright sashes. This idle “Pilgrim’s Progress.” She began to talk shit of a fine lady, with her four servants to her husband about the sermon and and her long purse, could easily achieve chapel singing, hut finding his answers what all poor Margaret’s daily slaving came short and slow, concluded lie was | could never compass. It brought pain to the young ones, and even treated them to the Zoological Gardens and the Poly technic, with refreshments of ginger-beer and penny buns. But as Margaret named them, she sighed for the soft luxurious atmosphere she had just left. Ah, poor Margaret, very sweet is the south breeze playing among hawthorn and acacia; but even the rough north-easter among tho City chimney-pots is to be preferred to the miasma, heavy with the perfume of poison plants. “Good-night, darlings. Say good night here to mamma as well as papa. Susan will put you to bed to-night. You are all old enough now to do without me. Susan, you will hear Tom and Jamie say their prayers. Steenie and Jane, surely I can trust you to remember yours, al though I am not there to see you kneel down ?” Thus spoke Margaret when the children’s bed-time came. “It is only uselessly tiring myself to go off with them regularly,” she explained to her hus band. “Of course, I shall go sometimes illy se self down with Newton’s “Cardiphonia.” But Mr. Duncombe was by no means sleepy. On the conlraty, he was just her heart and almost tears to her eyes, Even her jealous motherhood was forced to own that they were pretty chil dren, all the three—the two little misses shaping an impulse which had come sud- with their golden curls, and their taller denly into his mind, and which presently brother, who soon made common cause found its way into the words: “Maggie, suppose yon call on Mrs. Ed mund Mallock to-morrow afternoon.” Mrs. Duncombe looked up surprised. The Mallocks were city people, in the same line of trade with her husband, and with Steenie and took him off to show him his kennel and his pony. And Mrs. Mallock went on in her sweet, soft way to tell her children that “this lady” had a dear little girl of her own—and wouldn’t Evelyn and Cicely be very glad to see near neighbors into the bargain; but they ^rv and shouldn’t they wk what her — — • « w » _ _ | iuvo^-j nt»i| t- r —i— •• tonGj or ft ily traditions,.which not all their wealth intimated that she understood more —* ™ nhiiv. i was told, and f e i t about it were not the style of people on whom Mar garet was in the habit of calling, on those very few-aud-far-between afternoons when she made the best of her scanty, wardrobe and hunted her card-case. The Mallocks might call their house Heath Castle and drive up their own sweep in their carriage behind its pretty greys, but they had fam ily traditions, which not all their wealtl and fashion could banish into utter obliv ion. “Yes, Maggie,” pursued Mr. Duncombe “they are almost strangers in this neigh borhood. And Mrs. Mallock is in delicate health—and Mallock seems A good soit of fellow—and his friendship might be very serviceable to me.” “But don’t you know what people say?” inquired Margaret doubtfully. Mr. Duncombe poolied—“that she was once on the stage, or something of that sort. That’s the utmost the scandal amounts to if you analyze it. Yell,I don’t suppose they are exactly religious people. But making an acquaintance is not form ing a friendship. Ye must learn to dis tinguish matters, aud not to drive one principle hard and fast through every thing.” “I don’t approve of the mother of a young family going iu fall dress to late dinners almost every night, except when she is too ill to leave her ownhouse,” said Mrs. Duncombe, with some energy. “I don’t defend ft. But we must make great allowance for difference of training, and even' of position and means. Her children are not neglected,, as ours would be under similar circumstances, because she can afford to keep good attendants, and so her breach of duty is lessened. Besidej, if people who are rather vain and frivolous are to be left all to themselves, how are they to growwiser? Yho knows but you may bring Mrs. Mallock to a bet ter sense of the duties of a wife and mother? Yhy, yon may do quite a mis sion work in Hcatn Castle!” added Mr. Duncombe, springing up in his energy and pacing the room. “Mrs. Mallock has a soul to be saved, I presume, as much_23 any poor woman in your dirty Paradise Row. If you take her in the right way— not too straigbt-Iaoed and severe just at first—who knows what you may effect? Your candle should not he hidden under a bushel, Maggie. Ye should not let our selves forget who visited the houses of both Pharisees and publicans.” Ah me,we‘arc such dupes; satan scarce ly needs a new disguise to deceive us. He always could quote scripture, but we seem to trust that he is tired of that old trick and never to suspect that he may he at it again. : 'Margaret Duncombe shook her head gently but secretly thought to herself.tliat though sorely cramped in her summer ap name was that they might send their love to her—till the mother could have cried to. think of her little Jane, in her turned mousseline-de-laine‘ with tho darned frills. Mrs. Mallock had a confidential, ca ressing manner, and was sympathetic in a loose, lazy way, which by heartily. To convey this was a need of her nature. Her emotional powers had been strained beyond their real strength in her early days, and had needed these artificial stimulants ever since. She was only too glad to encounter some one who did not repel such encroaches with fierce, high-bred reserve. ‘You are one ot the dear, good model-women,” she said to Margaret. “You married for love, and you are a happy martyr of a mother. I can see it all. You are a dreadful re buke to a poor shilly-shallying creature like me. But then, my dear, a satisfied heart is the stronghold of a woman’s life. A woman who possesses that must judge her sisters tenderly,” with a glance ex pressive of endurance and appeal, and by no means complimentary to Mr. Mallock, whose effigy was grimly watching them from a great gilt flame. “But then, my dear, you must not kill yourself with care and energy. I remember my own dear mamma. She taxed herself to the ut most in the endeavor to do her best for answered. “One’s young enthusiasm is apt to cany ono mtftpeis down in Hint Ctunman sense ii_,S>cIc took wotouic, did he ?” And Mr. Duncombe leaned back in his chair, and felt doubly convinced that one does have very bright inspirations some times. Things looked altogether brighter than they had done yesterday. The de layed order had returned, and a long outstanding bill had been unexpectedly paid. Yith a superstition which he would have 'indignantly repudiated had it been put in words, he felt as if this was wholly connected with this brilliant advance upon the Mallocks, and that ‘things generally all take a turn to gether.” He did not know that Margaret was sitting by his side, thinking that there was nobody to take care of her, unless she did herself, and that men were apt to follow a narrow and selfish policy of their own; now she came to think it over, she could remember many an instance of it, even in her Harry. Nor did he know that Mrs. Mallock, standing before her cheval-glass dressing for a musical evening in Tybumia, was carelessly saying to her husband— “I had a visit from Mrs. Duncombe to day. I tried to be as kind as I could to her; for I know you say Duncombe is a. decent fellow, and it is as well to be civil to that sort of people.” And th# merchant growled, “I should think so. His word is a3 good as his bond any day. He’s one of tho sound eld-fashioned sort.” “Yell,” Mrs. Mallock went on, “it will be easy enough for me to take this little woman in hand. She’s as Soft as a taper, hut she has a style in her own quiet little way, and is quite presentable. I wlir soon polish her up. I should fancy they are pious, and don’t go to theatres, and so on. But that’s all only silly, harmless prejudice, adopted partly because the poor things haven’t had much chance of getting rid of it, and will soon wear off.” And Mr. Mallock did not warn his wife to be careful to take it in the right way and not to he too startling at first! And so weeks and months wore away, and intimate relations were firmly estab lished between, the humble home in the Hampstead Road and stately Heath Cas tle on the brow of the hill. Mr. Mallock would often drive Mr. Duncombe from' the city in his brougham, just as his wife drove Margaret about the-park in her barouche. The children were all constantly together, and presently Mr. Duncombe made a great exertion to put Steenie to the same excellent local school which Godfrey Mallock attended, Mr. Mallock urging “that nothing in the way of education could he called extrava gance.” Mr. Mallock threw some busi ness into Harry Duncomhe’s hands—bus iness which soon brought in far more than that extra twenty pounds which Margaret had once thought almost too much to hope for. But it did not seem to relieve and improve her overburdened do mestic life as the longed-for twenty pounds had once promised to do. Tho servant left because “she found' the work too stiff late parties, where nobody spoke to each other without the form of an inaud ible introduction, and where there was _ stand-up struggle round a~“buflet,”—in stead of the old snug sitting down to sup per. So, at first, they accepted the home lier invitation, and went to admire the grand new furniture and look at the photographs of the fine new friends. But Sirs. Monkwell bluntly told' Maigaret that “she would be as well as ever she had been* if she didn’t give way to every fancy, but just exerted herself as if she' was obliged to.” And Miss Griffin found she could no longer interest them in her news of the Sunday-school and the Bible- class—for their old minister was dead, and the Duncombes had taken that op portunity to transfer their allegiance from the humble old-fashioned place of worship to the elegant proprietary chapel which the Mallocks attended. (The Mal locks had not attended anywhere, when the Duncomhe’s first visited them. Mrs. Mallock would by no means have beeu thought unsentimentally profane, hnt she pleaded her own weak health, their long unsettled place of residence, and grace fully-yielded to Maigaret’s wannrepre sentations about the necessity of impress ing right habits on a rising family, and poor Margaret was fain to delude herself that this was a real evidence of vital mis sion-work in her connexion with Heath Castle.) Besides, Miss Griffin felt hurt that an invitation she gave the juveniles to accompany her to the wax-works was not responded _ to—in truth, because Jane said she did rot care to be seen in the Yest End with such a guy. So Mrs. Monkwell and Miss Griffin dropped offby-and-by, and though Maigaret did not seem to miss them much, yet they left empty a corner of her heart which none of her new acquaintances could fill. They quitted the house intheHamp- stead Road at last. But they did not go into the old red-brick mansion on the mar gin of Caen Yood, although it was for sale on very favorable terms, and under a doom of being pulled down as loo anti- HOW the farses hissed it. If,I had told her in the Spring The old, old story briefly, Yhen the sparrow and the robin begin to sing, And the plowing was over, chiefly 1 But haste makes waste, and the story sweet, I reasoned, will keep through the sow- Till I drop the com and plant the wheat, And give them a chance for growing. ror of the goober. Let the land be well broken. Lay it off in flat beds three and a hall feet apart. Drop two or three care fully hulled seed at intervals of twenty inches, in a furrow two inches deep, and cover with a board as fer cotton. Keep the soil perfectly clean and mellow and cultivate shallow. Gather the crop im mediately after the frost has killed the vines. Care should he had to obtain re liable seed. Carolina seed are said to be the best. Had I even told the tale in June, Yhen the wind through the grass was blowing, Instead of thinking it rathor too soon, And waiting till after the mowing! Or had I hinted, out under the stars, That I knew a story worth hearing, Lingering to put up the pasture bars, Nor waited to do the shearing! Now the bam is full,_so is the bin, But Fve grown wise without glory, Since love is the crop, not gathered in, For my neighbor told her the story. AGRICULTURAL DEPARTMENT. ; EDITED BY General Ym. M. BROYNE, Professor of History and Agriculture in the . University of Georgia. How to Apply Fertilizers—Deep or Shallow. She killed herself through it. She | hard”—a plea that had never been urged was as complete a sacrifice to maternal i in all the toiling years before. And even, love as if she had immolated herself upon as time passed on, and they could afford an altar. And did we really gain by being so early left poor little mother less things ? Ah, Mrs. Duncombe, one cannot tell what her loss may have cost us all through our lives 1 Our worldly in terests may not have suffered. But there was nobody to guard our sensibilities—to care far our heart ! (with anoiherglanee). You must take care of yourseif, dear Mrs. Duncombe. Such a soul as I can see you have, needs change, excitement, and joyous outward influence,, just as much as your fragile frame needs rest and fresh air. You must not altogether ex pect your dear, good husband to know that you want these things. Men look at matters from a man’s point, I know what men are, my dear. They try to save every pound for your old age, and never notice you are dying in your youth till. and D to double their service, the house did not seem as calm and comfortable as in old times. For one thing, Maigaret was neTerher old untiring self. She became headachy, and must take afternoon rests, and remain in bed for breakfast, while Mrs. Mallock was a most devoted sympa thizer, always ready with some new po tion or practice, and a long history of similar suffering on her own part. Mr. Mallock did certainly throw an im mense amount of business into Harry Duncomhe’s hands; almost more than he could do with comfort to his person or his purse. But it must all be done. He must not neglect to take this new tide at that flood which leads on to fortune. Be sides, money was needed as imperatively as ever, though not for the bread-and- butter claims of the old days. Little French and music and you are dead, and then they sit down t Jane was learning Fre [ say they have lost their object in life, ! dancing all at the same time now, and but they go'to business again next week, • Steenie and even Tom were taking to and before the year is out, they feel ] gymnasiums and cricket clubs. As for bound to marry somebody else, for the ; the much-dreamed-of and at-last-altained sake of their dear children! I shall call * new drawing-room carpet, Mrs. Dim* and take you out in my carriage, if you ! combe was already complaining that it will permit me. I have no friends near was beginning to look shabby round the inugirea ixixn*«r» fit for ghosts, and rats, and cobwebs7 tfiey" said, and hade him to just think of the superior conveniences in any of the .new “palatial residences” in Belzize Park," with gas, aud hot and cold water laid on in every bed-room! Margaret seconded them warmly, and the children also, with even more emphasis. So into one of tho fashionable new houses they removed. That seemed to break up the last of the old habits. Not one in the house hold could have told when they last met for family worship. It grew irregular be cause the hoys stopped out late, or Jane was at a party, or people stayed after sup per till inconvenient hours. And this, often and oftener, till at last, its oppor tunities were so far between that they were not heeded when they came. And so Mr. Duncombe- arrived at mid- dle-ago. His prosperity was exacting, and he lived a very hard and husy life. HU nerves and temper had been often sorely tried. He had frequently , needed to trade with borrowed money, which was a tenor in itself. And any thought of change or failure had been doubly trying, since he and all his family had acquired luxurious and expensive tastes. . There fore Mr. Duncombe looked older than his years. He had times of vague, vain yearning for things as they used to be. Oftenest on Sunday afternoons, when Steenie was coming aud going, and both Tom and he were worse than irregular in their church attendance, and altogether frivol ous and secular in their Sabbath pursuits. He dould not understand why it was so, and why even the two younger lads seemed preparing to follow in their steps. He had never set them such example. If he was generally too tired to study his Bible aud his good old divines and theo logians, at least he never touched news papers or novels. He was rather uneasy about his two eldest sons.. They were handsome and elegant enough and great favorites in all the general drawing-rooms where they accompanied their mother and sister. But their late hours and name less associates troubled him; since he was too experienced to regard such things with the indolent, half-smiling indul gence which Margaret had learned from the poor silly women, abont her. He knew they were going wrong. And again he said to himself bitterly, that they, had not learned it of him, and became, spasmodically, very severe and repressive. But it was of no avail.. Youth cannot be content with a negative creed or a nega tive rule of life. • The blight in which the parent’s spiritual health was withering, was not the atmosphere to quicken the souls of the children. But Mr. Dun combe did not know that it was a blight. ’ Mr. Duncombe thought he had good reason to be satisfied with his daughter. People called her very pretty (it made him wonder how pretty they would have called her mother at her age). She was stylish, and .accomplished, and very much admired. He was sometimes an noyed at the way the young men buzzed abont her, and the calm, impartial man ner in which he treated them all. Yhy could not she make up her mind to take one, and then get' rid of the rest ? But Jane seemed a geod-natured girl, and her mother said “that young people would be young people, and had a right to their play-hour iu life,” adding, what she guessed would please her husband, that she felt sure Godfrey Mallock would finally win the day. Harry Duncombe would pish and pshaw at that, for he could see Godfrey only as a well-bred dandy, though not without keen'interest in money matters. But when he thought of the large business connexion, of the high commercial name, and said to him self that young Mallock was at least as well-disposed as most young men, and if not yet religious, at any rate far steadier than his own poor Steenie, whose bosom frieed Godfrey liad always been, from that afternoon of Margaret Duncomhe’s first call at Heath Castle, then he was reconciled to the idea. [TO BE CONTINUED.] A G^eat Vote fob Gladstone.— The Right Hon. AVillLam E. Gladstone was elected at Leeds, receiving.! nearly 23,000 votes, or more than 10,000 bushe There is a wide diversity of opinion among farmers upon this subject. Cer tainly there is a wide diversity among them in practice. Some apply fertilizers deep, some shallow, some in the drill, some in the hill and now and then there is one who applies them broadcast. In ref erence to the depth at which they should be applied, our own experience teaches to put them in deep, and our reason for this is, that when the fertilizers are put in deep, the fine food-finding and food-absorb ing roots are developed at a depth under the surface where they are not injuriously affected in time of drought, whereas,when they are put in shallow, the roots being chiefly developed just where the fertilizers are deposited, these roots are put forth where they will languish and die when the surface soil becomes parched under the scorching influence of the sun during che droughts which generally occur during the first months of summer. It has been abundantly demonstrated, we think, that plants are endowed with a sort of instinct which enables them to search for food and select that which is best suited. to their several species, and that the roots which search for, find and absorb the food which nourishes the plants, are .most largely developed imme diately round the matter upon which they feed, Therefore this development should be enocuraged to take place where the ef fects of a protracted drought will be least felt. There is a very common error that roots are provided at their extremities with spongioles resembling the mouth of a leech, by which they suck up nourish ment and that , it is wholly m this way plantg^tj&eJ that tne'feWKvvcd. that this rootlets^imot^hsorb liquids and tender surface or viio luiAaxBnJffurig absorb nourishment from the earth. The old tough rcots have no power of absorp tion. It is astonishing to what a length the roots of familiar plants are developed. Experiment has shown that in a rich, well broken and thoroughly pulverized soil, a barley plant will produce as much as 128 feet, and an oat 160 feet of roots. Yheat, in less than two months after be ing sown, has been found to have sent its roots as deep as seven feet, and clover and lucerne have been known to extend to a length of thirty feet. Ye thus see to what a depth the roots of plants will penetrate, to what a large extent their combined volume is equiva lent, and how they feed and absorb nour ishment. All this teaches the necessity to healthful plant growth of deep breaking of the soil, of extending as much as possi ble the area of nourishment, and of en couraging the greatest developments of feeding rootlets where drought and heat can do the least injury, by putting the fer tilizing material designed to he absorbed by them, where an ordinary drought can do no injury. ~~ Ye wish that some of our friends would make experiments on the subject this year and report results. Our own practice, to which we mean to adhere until convinced of its error, is to open the ro ws with a long, wide shovel, deposit the fertilizer at the bottom ot the furrow, diffuse it thor oughly in the soil by running a sub-soil plow in the fertilized furrow, and then finish the bed. / a TRUTH and A REQUEST. i All will accept as a truth that the main purpose of the agricultural department of a newspaper ought to be to improve the material condition of tho people by im proving the condition of agriculture. Ye use the words in their broadest sense. To reach this result the agricultural columns of the paper ought to be a medium of com munication between, its editor and his readers, and between the readers them selves. They ought not to be merely r.n organ for tne expression of the opinions of any dre man or half dozen men. No editors, however gifted or well informed, can make a paper all that it might be made, without the help of its readers. This is the truth; now for the request. . . We ask our agricultural readers to give ns this help. Ye ask them to write us their views and experiences. There is not a fanner of ordinary intelligence in Georgia, who uses his eyes, ears and rea son in carrying on his business, who does not observe something which would inter est other farmers. Give ns the result of this observation. What one knows an other may not know, and thus if we would all tell what we know, in a plain concise manner, we may all give as well as receive information. TO WHOM IT MAT CONCERN. Ye had almost resolved not to write another word, for the present, at least, about the imprudence (we use mild terms) of “all cotton and no corn.” But we do “a heap of thinking” on this subject when' we see the farm wagons going by our gate every day laden with fertilizers and tin horns, all, as the owners tell us, for cotton to “git out o’ debt.” Suppose that Con gress should decree (never mind its con stitutional power) that the minimum price of cotton should henceforth be 25 cents per pound, and should further de cree that the maximum of wages, supplies and current expenses should forever re main as they now are, it Would still be bad farming to trust to buying our meat and bread from otner people, not to men tion the certain exhaustion of our land by raising crop after crop of cotton. Sup pose the corn crop of the Yest were to fail from providential causes, and there was none to buy—although Congress had fixed the price and we had received 25 cents per pound for our cotton—what would be come .of us ? Yould we not wish that we had planted corn in a few acres of that low land where “the cotton did not open well before frost.” If it be “im prudence, then, to neglect corn in order to raise cotton at prices fixed by law, what paraphrase for imprudence ought we to use when we know that the larger our cotton crop tho less we get for it? So long as we rely on other sections of the universe for the simple necessaries of life, independence is unattainable. double grooved pulley above, or two ordi nary pulleys. Yhen well arranged, it is the most economical of labor of any meth od, as absolutely nothing but the weight of the water is lifted, and no force or timo is expended in sending down an empty bucket. Yhite Bluff, Yasiiington Co., April 2d, 3880. Editors Telegraph and Messenger- From published reports it would seem the disease of rust in oats is confined to the southern portion of the State. My crop may be an exception in this section, but my August, September and October sowing are all very seriously in fested with rust. I sow no other oats as a crop but the rust-proof variety which has successfully challenged the disease in the past—a yellow and bearded variety and a veiy popular oat. I have been flattering myself that the disease was a strange visitor among us, and would mysteriously disappear, for it appeared in my crop in November and disappeared for awhile and again attacked it in February and since its development has been quite rapid, and now threatens to destroy all of, my early sowings. My later sowing in January is now clear of the disease, but observation in the past makes me fear that the late crop will also fall a victim to the same disease. I do not hear such complaint amongjmy neigh bors in the oat crop, hence, I have, been crtm.t° communicate the fate of my own "^berust in wheat in this section ciopf Sfff e mL.5; 1(1 soma have serious MILLET. A correspondent asks ns to tell how and when to plant millet, and whether or not we regard it as a valuable forage plant. Millet Is coarser and less nutritive than good timothy hay; hut it is the most pro lific of all the grasses, and will grow In all sorts of soils and climate. HOW TO PLANT. Let the soil be well and deeply broken and pulverized, and if not 'naturally rich let it be made so artificially. Sow three pecks of seed and harrow or brush it in. WHEN TO PLANT. Sow the seed as early in April as possi ble, to escape frost—from the 15th to the 30th. The spring rains during the first weeks of its growth, will give it a good, healthy start. It can be cut in about eighty or ninety, days from planting, when the heads will be generally visible over the field.' On good land three or four cut tings may be made. Ye recommend it strongly as a very valuable forage plant. THE peanut. Another correspondent asks us, “Is there any money in raising pea nuts?” Ye think there is. Land that will produce half a bag of cotton worth, at ten cents pe impound, $20, could be made to produce, say fifty bush els of peanuts, which, at two dollars per f, would be worth $100 wiii permit me. jl iuiyu no meims » uo uuguuuu„ w iwn. 3 —7 w * ----- * . ———-7 •• —— — here and I am so lonely! And if you are center table, and that Mrs. Mallock ad- 1 over the highest number potted for the J The labor is about the same as for cot- Agricultural. Potatoes are nicer when put at once in boiling water. After they have boiled fifteen minutes put in a tablespoonful of salt to twelve potatoes. Yhen they are' cooked, pour off the water and cover the kettle, not with a metalic cover on which the steam will form great drops of water, but with a towel which will absorb it, leaving the potatoes dry and mealy. In starching, to secure a fine polish, add tablespoonful of kerosene to a pint of starch. It will give a beautiful gloss to linens and laces,and muslins iron smooth- without drawing or wrinkling. There a slight, disagreeable odor while iron ing, hut thi3 wholly disappears when the clothes are dry, and it is a sure prevent ive of sticking. transplanting At night. A gentleman, anxious to ascertain the effect of transplanting at night, instead of by day, made an experiment with the fol lowing results: He transplanted ten cherry trees while in bloom, commencing at four o’clock in the afternoon. Those transplanted during the daylight shed their blossoms, producing little or no fruit; while those transplanted in the dark maintained their condition fully. He did the same with ten dwarf trees, after the fruit was one-third grown. Those transplanted during the day . shed their fruit, those during the night perfected their crop, and showed no injury from having been removed. SULPHUR FOR SHEEP. An exchange says: Mix a little sulphur with salt, and feed occasionally to sheep. It will effectually cure sheep 6f all ticks. The same remedy applied to cattle troub led with lice will soon rid them of vermin. The use of sulphur with salt well repays the trouble of keeping a supply for cattle and sheep. If a mixture of one'part of sulphur and seven of salt be freely sup plied, there will be no trouble with ver min. You can give horses the mixture with good effect. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. A good pump, under some circumstan ces, is superiorto a bucket and windlass for drawing wtter; but for genera! use, and on the score of economy, simplicity, durability, and good water, the windlass is still without a rival. It is rare, how ever, to see a windless that is constructed and rigged according to mechanical prin ciples; in fact many are the merest make shifts, than which it would be difficult to conceive of anything more primitive and rude in construction. The first requisite is, that every part, including rope aud bucket, should be as light as is consistent with strength. The windlass itseifshould consist of a hollow drum, from eight to sixteen inches in diameter. If desired, it may he made of two diameters, the smaller end for the use of the women and children, the rope being attached to the latter in such manner as to easily admit of being easily shifted to tho larger portion. The axle, which should be of iron, need not be larger than three- fourths of an inch square, the bearings rounded and turning iu wooden boxes. The winch, or crank, should not be longer (radius) than 12 inches; they are generally much too long. The rope should be of the best cotton, | or ^ inch diameter, and the pully should not be less than six feet above the windlass. The bucket itself should be light, but well ironed. A break may be easily made thus: A strap of leather an inch wide must be tacked to the curb below one end of the drum, brought round the drum so as to embrace it closely, and the upper end fastened to a light roller or lever, convenient to the hand. Such a contrivance adds greatly to conve nience. Now, if one of our readers who Ocmulgee Fanner’s Club. Editors Telegraph and Messenger: At the request of several members of this, the oldest agricultural club in the State, I made a visit to their club house near the farm of Captain R. E. Park, some ten miles from Macon, on last Saturday. It was their regular monthly meeting, and although the rain had been falling nearly all forenoon, there were some twenty of the best fanners in the com munity in attendance. This organization dates back beyond the recollection of the writer. It was or ganized in 1835, when the elder Lamars, Myricks, Matthews, Bowmans, Howards, Holts and others of like character flourish ed. It has been kept in existence and handed down as a precious heirloom to their posterity. Save three or four years during the war this organization has’held its regular meetings, and is now in vigor ous herlth, and, under the present mani agement, bids fair to lire another half century. Last- year they held their first fair, and are now preparing for another some time in August. At their meeting, a premium list was matured and passed. There will also be many special premiums offered, among them, one for the best acre of cot ton on reclaimed land, each contestant selecting the poorest acre on his planta tion. The entrance fee is one dollar, and the successful contestant gets two-thirds of the amount so secured, and the second best the remainder. Some of the Macon merchants will also give special premiums and arrangements are being made to make the occasion one of substantial mer-* it. Mr. Yoodland, a superb workman, has just built one of the most substantial houses'in the county for an exhibition hail. It is 40x20, and two stories high, with all necessary arrangements for the best possible display of articles. " It will he finished by the first of May, when they propose on the 4th of May to dedicate it with proper exercises, and have in con nection an old-fashioned farmer’s picnic. A gala day is anticipated. The Club are under special obligations to Colonel J. Y. Myfick in the erection of the building, as he gave his personal attention every day. They passed a vote of thanks .for his services. Then there occurred one of those pleasant little epi sodes which tend to cement a community together. Yithout any previous notice to Mr. Myrick, Hon. A. M. Lockett, tho President of the Club, with an elegant gold cane in hand, arose and said: “I have thejhonoras well as the pleasure of presenting you this small token for your very valuable service in bossing and superintending, in person, the building of our new Club house.” ’ “Sir, please accept it from the Ocmulgea Farmers’ Club, and may its constant use be as constant a reminder of our esteem, and friendship to you. Yhen the length ening years shall bringthe infirmities of age as it yields you its support ■ tant future, may it recall the many, many ’UMOfaS'mynasL we have had in these prised, with faltering voice repnen.. .i “Sir, you award me too much honor for i'-' doing what was simply my duly. Yhat ’* 1 I have don£ was willingly and gratuitous ly performed without expectation of * other importance being attached to it, than that of the consciousness of doing my duty. If any honor is due, it is to my friend Mr. Yoodland, who planned aud executed the work. Of course I ac cept this token of your friendship, aud shall keep it as a memento in years to come. Accept my thanks for your kind ness and costly gift.” The cane was gotta perch a with elabo rately carved gold head, with the inscrip tion “To Janies Y. Myrick, from the Oo- mulgee Fanner’s Club, 1880.” They honored your correspondent with an honorary membership, for, which he would return thanks. There were several new members added to the roll. There is more life in tnis or ganization than in any other in the State. Howard district is one of the most pleas ant places, and refined and intelligent sections of Bibb country. It is the only district in the county from which a mem ber of the Legislature has ever been elected, outside of the city of Macon. The farms are in good condition, and while the rust has damaged the wheat, the oats look well, especially the later sow ing. A great deal of corn'is up, and cot ton planting will be the order of the day from this out. I have had a splendid day, and am un der special obligations to Captain R. E. Park for transporation and other kind nesses. • I find the Telegraph taken generally throughout the country and appreciated. A few new subscribers I cany back as a remembrancer of my visit. Jack Plane. Howard District, April 5,1S80. The Thunderer’s Talk. •' The English press are down upon presi dent Hayes’ re-assertion of the Monroe doctrine in.his canal message. The Timet speaks thus to the point: The Yashington protest is not like that against a Mexican Empire, or against some threatened European purchase of territorial rights, or against an European league to protect the canal from which the United States should have been ex cluded. The claim is not even to a sole title to guard the future canal’s neutrality trom violation by all and any. It is a claim to an indefinite suzerainty from .Mexico to Fatigonia, though throughout the vast region the government a*. Wash ington exercises no power, and though to its populations it acknowledges no duty. Europe could not recognize so gratuitous a demand. An inter-Oceanic canal would for every practical purpose form as much or as little a part of the European coast as of that of the United States. Even had America itself alone to be considered. British Columbia and Mexico in the north, Peru and Brazil and Chili and Bo livia in the south, might justly exclaim agaiust the autocracy arrogated for the United States. But while Europe cannot concede the bare principle asserted by the President and the committee, Europe has no objection to the United States ac quiring all the power tqey can want over the canal by subscribing the capital neces sary to create it. —There are three sisters in Jessamin county, Ky.,—Martha, Mary and Marga ret Deboe—who were born to the same parents in the same hour in the year 1827, they being now in their fifty-third year. Such lias been tlie afleciion of these chil dren for each other that they have gone but little into soeietv, and have resolute- has a heavy, lumbering, wabbling log, ! ly maintained a life of celibacy unto tbi3 mounted as an apology for a windlass,will j day. Yhen just verging into womanhood construct one as above described, and is j their father (who is now dead) exacted not delighted, if be will send us the bill j from them a vow never to marry and we will pay it. never to separate until death. And this If desired,two buckets may be attached, ; promise they have religiously kept, one to each end of the rope, and a large, cver’-inclined to send your little girl to vised her that real Turkey wore the best, Conservative candidates. deeply grooved wheel be substituted for tlie drum, the friction of the V shaped groove preventing slippingoff of the rope. ton; if there is any difference it is in fa- This method of rigging will require a m Yesterday I had such a bad cold that I could not speak. I used Dr. BulPa : Cough Syrup and to-duy I am as well as ever. It cost me only 25 cents. ■■•■•• ---- ■