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