Federal union. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1865-1872, March 21, 1871, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextM M B E R 34 VOLl'ME XL!.] M ILL EDGE 7ILLE, GEORGIA, MARCH 21,1871. £[)t Jftbcra 1 Pinion, Id FUbLlSHED WEEKLY IN AIILLEDGEVILLE, GA., BY HOUGHTON, BARNES & MOORE, (Corner of Hancock and Wilkinson Streets, at $2 in Advance, or $3 at end of the year. S. N. BOUGHTON, Editor. ADVERTISING. Than silnt.—One Dollar par square of tenllnes for <;rstinsertion, and seventy-five cents for each subse- unPiit continuance. Tribute* of respect, RcroIuUolh by Societies,Obit -xeeeding six lines, Nominations for office,Corn :rations or Editorial notices for individual benefit charged as transient advertising. LEGAL ADVERTISING. iriOTH Sales, per levy of ten lines, or less,....$2 50 Mortgage li fa sales, per square,. 5 00 tationB lor Letters of Administration, 3 00 “ Guurdianship,... 500 .lion for dismission from Administration, 3 00 “ ’* Guardianship, 3 00 “ leave to sell Land, 5 00 “ lor Homesteads, 1 75 ■rice to Debtors and Creditors, 3 00 as ot Land, &c., per square, 500 • perishable property, 10 days, per square,.. 150 tray Notices, 30 days, 3 00 closure of Mortgage, per sq-, each time,p... 100 vications lor Homesteads, (two weeks,).... 1 75 LEGAL ADVERTISEMENTS. Sales of Land, by Administrators, Executors or Guardians, are required by law t-o be held on the 4Tuesday intlie month, between the hours of 10 j : | ie fureuoou and 3 in the afternoon, at the Court ff in tiie County in which the property is situated. ■>,, ■■,■.4' these sales must be given in a public ga- „ . -, • |i ,juy n previous to the day of sale. ■. ices fur tie sale of persona! property must be : in like manner 10 days previous to sale day. Notices m the debtors and creditors of an estate ,,, n 4 h !«i be published 411 day's. y •• ,iat application will be made to the Court ol (' linary fur leave to sell Land, &c.,mnst bepublish- ed fur two months. 0::ut:ens for letters of Administration, Guardianship, j ii.r4 !i« published 30 days—for dismission from A : ;i. . rr - tien monthly three months—for dismission .■■., m Guardianship, 40 days. Rules ler foreclosure of ,Hurt gage must be publish ,-! .iiiinlirly for four months—for establishing lost pa p... r.i. ti.e full space of three months—for compel! _■ titles from Executors or Administrators, where p . : ■ been given by the deceased, the full space ot t'.-ee months. Publications will ulways becoutinnod ancording to I !..•?■■.: lie legal requirements, nnlessotherwise ordered Boob and Job Work, of all kinds, PROMPTLY AND NEATLY EXECUTED AT TCIIM OFFICE. NEW LAW FIRM. Crawford & Williamson, attorneys at law, A\D MOI.H1TORX IN II A.VKUI PTCT, MILLEDGEVILLE, GA. XVJLL prak'tice their proiession iu the counties »» composing the Oc.mulgee Circuit—the counties et Hancock Rnd Washington, and in the U. S. Circuit mill District Courts. CHAS. r. CRAWFORD. WM. W. WILLIAMSON Feb II, 1871. 29 ly DR. J. W. HERTY, PRACTISES IN M $rancfics of Ijis profession. Office at the Drug Store of L. W. Hum & Co. Residence on Jefferson Street, ooruer Hancock St. •Ian. 24,1870. 26 3m HEW LAW FIAM. rpiIE UNI>ERSICtNED have formed a co-partDer- -l ehip for the practice of Law, under the firm of SANFORD & FURMAN. They will bestow prompt attention upon all business entiusied to their erne in this and the surrounding Counties. Office on Wayne street over Stetson’s Store. D. B. SANFORD. F. C. FIRMAN. MiliedgeviUe, Jan'y 6th, 1871. 24 ly T. W. WHITE, jt ttafn e.£ a t f/a.ui^ MILLEDGEVILLE, GA., \\ T 1LL practice iu this and adjoining counties. * t Applications for Homestead Exemptions, un- <b r the new law, and other business before the l art of Ordinary, will receive proper attention. Mi'ledeeville, Oct. 12. 18ti8. 11 tf W. G. McADOO, Attorney I Counsellor at Law, IHI.LEDGEril.LE, GEORGIA. (Office in the Federal Union Building.) Will give prompt attention to business entrusted to i ■ ’ in any part of the State, anil will regularly attend ' ■ Courts of Baldwin, Hancock, Putnam and Wii- kmson counties. MiliedgeviUe, March 25, 1870. 35 tf “THE REO ROLLER.” White’s Patent fottoii Seed Plan ter and Guano Drill i now complete iunll respects, and is being mauufac- 1 ■ i I in large numbers to satiety the increasing de- inuud. It opens, plants and covert, and being mostly of iron wi!! not break or get out of order. PriCb $25. No machine sent without the-noney^and if it does »"t work satisfactorily, the money will be return ed. Address JAMES SHERLOCK, General Agent, MiliedgeviUe. Ga Sept. 20, 1870. . 8 6m TAILOIi-XSiTG-: MHlundersigned has removed his TAILOR SHOP To Wayae Street, Up Stairs, .over Store of MESSRS. C. H. WRIGHT &. SON, Where he is prepared to cut and make gentlemen's clothing in the LATEST STYLES, and respectfully edicts a share of the public patronage. Old Clothes made as good as new, He will also clean and repair old clothes making them look as good as new. RF*Ail work warranted. FRANK FOARD. MiliedgeviUe, Jan 23,1870. 26 6m STAND FROM UNDER!!! if you want €frood Bargains for the Cash, call at the Store of V. IV Game 4• Co., VVTHERE you will fiud Goods, consisting of every- » * tiling usually kept iu a first class Family Gro- < H ry Store, as cheap as the cheapest &Dd as good as beet, and all we ask is a trial to convince aiiy of our triends and the public generally of the fact. Store ou east side of Wayne street. W. GAUSE & CO. MiliedgeviUe, Nov 28,1870. 18 tf wanted, the Family Grocery Store of T A Caraker. Agt, CORN, PEAS and any other kind of pro- alm>, DRY AND GREEN HIDES, for which lighest market price will bo paid in trade or y- Uedgeville. Jan 7, 1871. 26 3m Flour! Flour! T. J. COHEN, Rome, Ga., Manufacturer of |the Celebrated COHEN'S FLOUR, Kvepp, also, constantly on sale all latest improved Mill Machinery at manufacturer’s prioe. Rome, Ga., Feb. 13, 1871. 29 ly SITUATION WANTED. A YOUNG LADY competent to teach ordinary “ranches of English education, desires a situa- ‘ ue as iustructor in a private family. Best of refer* t uces given. Address Lock Box 12, Milledgovlile, P.O. For the Federal Union. MA UN’S SPEING-TIME. BY M CRY ROSE FLOYD. It was spring-time, and the fragrant breeze Stele thro’ the curtain’s misty lace, Fluttering Maun’e white sash on the strand, And swaying the heliotrope in the vase; Lifting with privileged hand fromMaun’s hair - The wreath of carnations, and over her face Tossing in heedless confusion the curls Which golden and brightfiowed free in wild grace. Silent we sat—each busy with thought. Weaving bright dreams of love and of fame, Those dreams of youug hearts, ere reality cold Proves love, but & fantasy—fame, but a name. Maud, darling! in fancy I see her now * Ae outhat marvelous, moonlight night, When with arm gently thrown around my neck And cheeks aliglowlDg with biushis bright, Sito told me that when another fair spring Had waked from their slumbers the leaflets and flowers, Another would claim the band that 1 held, And find her a homeeven dearer than ours- For hours we talked—the weird moon went down, But still we spoke of tpe next year's spring, And joyous and thoughtless, we never once dreamed Of the changes one brief little season could bring. Time flew, and tiie summer’s emerald leaves Were changing to a golden brown ana red, Bright flowers were fading one by oue, And the last wliite rose in the gardeu was dead. But Maun! whatoould have wrought the change So plaicly stamped on hei pallid brow 1 Her cheek is pressed on her little hand, In her tones, no girlish laughter now. Where is the agile and bounding step, Like' the mountain fawn’s wheuthecrag he climbs And the blitksoine voice that in ballad* gay Kell on the ear like silvery chimes 7 A smile is yet there, but the spirit dioops; She is sick with despair to her sad heart’s core. Her beloved to his vows hath a recreant proved, And her faith, hope and peace fled forevermore. But once did she mention her lover’s name, And her fair cheeks reddened, her lips curled with scorn; But transient the glow as the lightning’s flash, And she sank in my arms, despairing, forlorn. It is spring-time again, and on the green earth, Life revives, and a thousand flowers are springing Whilst amid the leaves of the orange trees The brilliant birds are joyously singing. Correspondence of the New- York Sun. FATHER JESSE S THWIRLE. A Sub Correspondent Takes the Statements <»f all Parties. What the Stomses Say, and What Father Jesse Avers—The Latter Again Ac knowledges that he Made the Offer, but Says that the $500 was to go to the Poor—B. F. Whittemore's Case. Cincinnati, March 4. This city is wild over the recent dis closures respecting the venerable old gentleman who presides over the Cov ington Post Office. The friends of Father Jesse are loud in their denunciations of the Stoms family, and the latter indulge in the most fearful invective against the Grants, father and son, for what they term their base ingratitude. THE SOLEMN MR. BLOSS. I arrived here last night, and at once set to work to probe the whole thing to the bottom. I first sought* out f The little brooklet soft murmuring glides, Reflecting fair scenes in its waters bright, Caresaiug the lilies that quivering seem, As if eager to stay its rapid flight. And the sea! the buoyant bounding sea. With its silvery waves, and it* flashing spray, As it* billow* broak ou the yellow strand, In a dirge for joys that have passed away. Yes, spring-time once more—and I sit in the room Where, a year ago, Maun eagerly told Of the noble, manly heart she had won, The oft-tolu story whicli never grows old. All day I sit by the little white bed Where with pallid face, poor Maun is lying. It needs not the damp on the blue-veined brow To tell me that Maun, my Maun, is dying. Hour after hour I hold the hot baud Which soou must chill in the damp of the grave, Pressing it oft to my trembling lipe, Praying to Him, who, alone can saro. A few days since, as I ntood by her side, Whilst the wild sea waves the silence broke, Throwing her wasted arms round my neck, And kissing my cheek, it was thus she spoke: “ Ob ! there are times when my Bail, sad heart Seems fainting beneath its burden of grief, When a wish for life seems a mockery, And nothing save death oao give relief! But oft, when the hours of midnight wear on, Each scene of the past is enacted once more; I bold iu my hand the flowers he gave. His form leaneth o’er me and sorrow is o’er.” It was thus Maun spoke to the very last, Blessing his name with her failing breath, Pleading hi* cause with her true woman's heart. Till her up* were hushed in tiie silence of death ! How gently the spring breeze floated iu, Lifting the white buds on her calm brow: Oh! zephyr, vain is thy gentle touch, There is no smile on those closed lips now Pale roses rest on her golden hair. And roses lie on her breathless breast. Unconsciously clasped by the Uule bauds, Folded above the heart now at rest. There stands on the mantle*, the crystal vase, Often filled with fuir flowers by her sweet hand. But blossomless now—f»r the life of the flowers All went with her to the Spirit Land. And see there a glove a perfumed pink glove, Still bearing the form of hand, dimpled and white. All daintily trimmed with light falls of lace, And for clasp at the wrist, a jeweled leaf bright When .ast had she worn it ? When hope s brilliant star Illumed with its rays her unshadowed life ’ When the world seemed all iiappiuess, grief but a name, And her young heart was scarless from sorrow’s dread strife 7 Did this little pink glove press her hot, throbbing brow Wheu soul-sick, and anguished, she longed for . Death’s balm 7 When sobs shook her frame, a* she bitterly wept, Did her pallid cheek rest ou its soft, perfumed palm ? Oh fair, cherished glove! once within thy small bound, Throbbed that fair hand's nerves, in gladness or gloom; Tby hues are unfaded—thy perfume remains, But the hand is insensate dust in the tomb! Ne’er again to the sound of her clear, riDging laugh, Will my heart in deep gladness beat joyful and high; Ne’er feel round my neck her soft clinging arms, Never hear her sweet voice, nor her heart-broken sigh. And neveragain will her bright glowing face, Rest in mirth on the page that I earnestly read, While her dark, sparkling eyes look up into mine, To see if I frown, or I smile at the deed. m Oh ! for the once happy days that are past ! When we joyously rambled in Spring o’er the lea. The wild flowers bending beneath our tread, And the balmiest breezes blowing fresh from the sea. How we gazed at the silvery clouds sailing on, Like the white wiugs of angels, athwart the blue sky, Their slow-moving shadows across the wide plain, Seeming frowns from the brow of the Mighty Most High. Then, when eve—but why call up those halcyon hours ? They are gone with the friend of my happiest years; Yes, with Maun, who is resting beneath this green mound, This mound which I kiss thro’my fast tailing tearo. Braise a fair and fragrant rose, And its sweet scent will remain ; Tear young tendrils from the oak. They will gain their hold again. Pierce a crimson'd autumn leaf, ’Twill its brightened hues retain—* Crush the heart’s young oiienshed flowers, They can never bloom again. was rejected by my soo, and he and old Grant parted in auger. A few days afterward the old man came to me and asked me to use my influence with Ho race. He said: “I offered the Cap tain a good inducement to make that appointment. A friend of mine, who is a wealthy man, said he would give five hundred dollars to have a certain party made gauger. I offered Horace half of the amount if he would ap point the man, but he rejected it Can’t you influence him to consider the proposition favorably ?” I said Why, Mr. Grant, what are you think ing of? Don’t you know that such a thing as that would prove the ruin of you both ? No, sir, I am glad to kuow that my sou has his honor left; and I am pained, Mr. Grant, t© have heard you say what you have.” The old i rascal walked off deeply xhagrined, aud I heard afterward that he said HORACE STOMS WOULD SOON LOSE HIS OFFICE. Bloss. Bloss is the heavy mar. of the ! Indeed, the old man told me that if Enquirer, and is thoroughly posted oh the desired appointment- was not made the Grant-Stoms imbroglio. Entering J he’d see that the Captain was made to the Enquirer office, I mounted the stair- suffer in some way. I might have ex case, and was at once ushered into posed this thing at that time, but 1 Bloss’s den. The gentleman sat hum- pitied the old man’s infirmities, and mi rig the Dead March in “SauP’iua also had some respect tor the Presi- iow, monotonous tone, as he scratched dent. I am a good Republican, and away on the second column of an was a delegate from this district to article showing that the Democrats the Chicago Convention which nomi- will have a majority iu the Forty-sec- Dated Grant. I also went on to Wash- ond Congress, and did not at first no- ington at the time of his inauguration tice me. I coughed. The pen stop- i |! company with old Jesse and his j pea. The melancholy noise was hush- daughter Jenny, old Corbin’s witie, and ed, and Mr. Bloss looked up. in fact, I always considered myself a “Mr. , of tiie New York Sun,”, warm friend of the Grants. I there- I said. for© told Horace that we would bury Mr. Bioss’s countenance relapsed in- 1 he secret of the old man’s weakness to a smile. iu our own breasts, and we did so un- “ I am delighted to see you, sir.— til January last, wlien the first intima- The Sun is the greatest paper in the j tion came that Horace was to be re country. I read it most religiously moved. We would not have let the every day. Here is the last issue re- j cat out then if old Jesse kadu’t boast- ceived. You see how we cut from it.” ed that the removal was the result of And Mr. Bloss held up a copy of the his own efforts. with holes. “But paper perforated sit down, sir.” mr. bloss’s letter. I sat down and quickly opened my business. “Ah, want to find out about this Stoms affair, eh ? Well, I tell you it’s rich. Old Jesse put his foot in it for once in his life, and the old fellow may squirm and wriggle as much as he pleases, and lie can’t get out of it. .But you must see Stoms. He’ll tell you all about it in just ten minutes. I’ll give a note of introduction.” And Mr. Bloss turned to his desk. Seizing a piece of paper, he hastily made a few scratches with a miserable old pen, and folded it up. “ Take this to Capt. Stoms’s father” said Mr. Bloss. , “ He’s an old friend of mine, ami he’ll beverygiad tosee you.” I took the envelope and departed, and alter a short walk reached the store of Mr. William Stoms, the father of the unlucky Assessor. Entering the little counting-room I saw an el derly gentleman sitting by the stove. I advanced and handed him the note. He took it, looked at the superscrip tion, and at length opened it. Alter gazing at it for five minutes or so Mr. Stoms (for it was he) handed it back with the remark : “ I’m sorry, but I’m too poor to give you anything to-day.” I looked at the gentleman with some surprise. “I beg pardon, sir,” I said, “but you misunderstand me. I am not beg ging-” •‘On ! excuse me theu,” he replied. “ You see the name signed to that note was the only thing I could possibly read, and Bloss sends so many charity hunters to me, that I naturally con cluded yours was also a begging mis sion. I don’t, suppose you can read this yourself, but can you tell me what it means?” I replied that it was intended to be a note of Introduction, and then stated my name aud business. Mr. Stoms at ouce seized my hand and bade me be seated. h MR. STOMS’S STORY. He is a gentleman about 00 years of age, thin, wirey aud quite gray, but not bad looking by any means. Heat once took down the bars aud gave me a clear idea of the way Federal affairs have run in this .section since the ad vent of the Grant Administration. I consider old Jesse Grant an in termeddling old granny, aud lean tell the President if he doesn’t tell the old man to keep himself more quiet, the Republican party in this part of Ohio is gone up.” Mr. Stoms said this with peculiar unction, and emphasized it by bring ing his hand down on the counting- room rail with a force that nearly shiv ered .it. “About this trouble of my son’s I can tell you in a very few words.— Capt. Horace Greeley Stoms—that’s ray son—was appointed Assessor of Internal Revenue nearly two years ago. From the hour he was sworn into office old Jesse pestered the life out of him to have him appoint cer tain subordinates of the old man’s choosing. Two of the candidates urg ed upon Horace by old Grant were not deemed worthy of appointment, and he positively refused to listen to appeals iu their behalf. Still the old intriguer worked and pestered. He used to come over to Horace’s office and sit by the hour, ami almost beg to have a man named Wertboff appoint ed as gauger, although he afterward acknowledged the man was wholly unfit for the office. One day about a year ago, he went iuto the office and called Horace aside. He then said that he had been offered $500 to secure the appointment, and that iF he (Horace) would make it, they would divide the money between them. At the same time he said : “ My candidate is a ras cal, but we might as well get his I GOT MAD THEN, j and I wrote secretly to the President, j giving a brief account of the transae- ! tion. I believe I’ve got a copy of the j letter here, and I’ll let you take it..— j [Already printed in the Sun.] Horace, I afterward learned, wrote the same day to the President. Instead of treat ing these letters with the considera tion they deserved or without even acknowledging their receipt, the Pres ident at once sent them to the old man; and now the latter boasts of our failure to make any impression on his son’s mind.” Correspondent—Mr. Stoms, it is generally understood that Father Grant controls all the Federal appointments in this section ; is that sc ? Mr. Stoms—The old man cla ms to do so, and I begin to think it is true, ft is certain that his linger is in every pie, although I have been loth to be lieve that he held absolute control in such matters. There is an instance, however, where such was the case, aud that is in the Cincinnati Post Of fice. When Grant was inaugurated, almost the first official act he perform ed was to eject Mr. C. W. Thomas from the Post Office here, and give it to a relative, a Covington man, AT THE SOLICITATION OF JENNY GRANT, now Mrs. Corbin. This man was not a resident of Cincinnati, and was op posed by every prominent man in the city and every influential Republican in the State. Senator Sherman went dead against him, and so did Eggle- ston, our Representative; but Jenny Grant and old Jesse got him the office with ouly thirteen endorsers. 1 know the whole secret of that transaction. I’ve got letters from Jenny Grant Corbin in my possession that don’t re flect much credit upon any of the par ties, and some day I’m going to give them to the public. Oil, this is a rot ten administration, and if the whole truth could be got at, Grant would be impeached before he is six mouths older! All the Grants care for is money, and from father to sons they are nil alike. CAPT. HORACE GREELEY STOMS. Leaving Mr. Stoms, I wended my way to the office of Capt. Horace Greeley Stoms, the unfortunate victim of old Jesse’s machiuatious. The Cap tain has not yet been removed, or rather, has not given up his office. He is engaged in preparing his accounts for transfer. Capt. Stoms is a very young man, and does not seem to have had experience enough to fit him for so responsible an office as that which he has just received notice to vacate. He received me very cordially, but gave very little information aside from that already published. He states, however, that he is prepared at any time to make affidavit that old Mr. Grant offered him $500 if he would appoint a certain incompetent man as gauger in his district. He also stated that the father of the Administration nearly bored the life out of him for more than a year with his constant appeals on behalf of incompetent and worthless office-seekers. FATHER GRANT AND THE CITCINNATI NEWSPAPERS. Up to this time your correspondent had heard but oue side of the story, and he therefore resolved to give the venerable and only liviug father of a President an opportunity to explaiu himself. I was also informed that Ulysses hud telegraphed his father not to permit any more interviews by Cin cinnati newspaper men ou the istoms subject, but to keep bis mouth closed. Father Grant dislikes Cincinnati news paper men. An Enquirer man waited upon him yesterday. It seems that he went to father Jesse incog, and told him a. long rigamaroie, and completely won the old man’s heart. As father Jesse was about to unbosom himself, in walked Nixon, the Revenue Collect or of Covington, and the homeliest man in all Kentucky. Nixon is a mem ber of the ruling family, and exercises money.” This rascally proposition u kind of a protectorate over Father Jesse’s tongue. He has been very ac tive for several days, the visitors to dingy old Post Office have been so nu merous. Nixon came over from his own office to make his regular tour of observation about the Post Office, and at once spotted the Enquirer man. He walked up to where the two were sit ting—the old man all the while assert ing that he didu’t care to talk about the Stoms’s, yet carelessly telling all he knew in garrulous way. “See here,” says Nixon, as he in serted iiis digits in the Enquirer man’s coat collar, “ don’t you see Mr. Grant is annoyed by your presence? Get out of here. You Cincinnati newspa per men are the curse of this country. Get out of here, I say,” as the Enqui rer man bridled up. The upshot of it was that THE HOMELIEST MAN IN KENTUCKY summarily ejected the Enquirer man from the Covington Post Office. Knowing that Father Jesse would not refuse to talk with a New York newspaper man, I crossed the bridge and soon came to the Post Office. The Covington Post Office is perhaps the dirtiest, dingiest, nastiest office of the kind in the United States. It is a lit tle brick building on one of the prin cipal stredts, and is rented by the Gov ernment. The floor of the office is covered with dirt fully’’ half an inch thick, and the walls are begrimed with filth of all descriptions. The tiers of boxes run half way across and all the way down the length of the room.— | Another portion of the room father ! Jesse lets out for a newspa;>er and candy stand. The rear is partitioned off with rough deal boards, and this serves as the Star Chamber in which those deep-laid schemes of polity are hatched by the Presidential ancestor. The principal customers of the Cov ington Post Office seem to be negroes, fora dozen or more were sitting lazily about as I entered. A SUN MAN IN FATHER JESSE’S OFFICE. Walking up to the general delivery window, I asked of a very handsome youth who was the presiding geuius of that democratic opening: “ Can you tell me where I’ll find Mr. Grant?” The handsome youth looked at me inquiringly, and his crimson neck-tie seemed to blush with suspicion. “Are you a Cincinnati newspaper man ?” asked the handsome youth. I replied that I was uot a Cincinnati newspaper man. “Well, then, you’ll find Mr. Grant in that little room,” and he indicated a rickety old door in the rear of the office. “He’s most likely asleep now, but that don’t make any difference. Give him a shake and yell in his ear, and you’ll soon set him agoin’,” said the handsome young man, as he turned to iook for a letter for John Henry Simpson, a sable-hued individual who approached the window. I at once started for the sacred por tal. The door stood ajar. I looked through the crack, and saw an aged man sitting in front of the grate, which bv the way, hadn’t a bit of fire in it. His back was turned to me as I enter ed. I approached cautiously, and I must confess with awe I walked around in front of the old gentleman. As the handsome young man had fore told, the venerable progeuitor of the Administration slept soundly. FATHER JESSE. « His head was on his breast, ami his golden spectacles (a present from Cor bin, the President’s brother-in-law) were balanced somewhat recklessly on his forehead. I at once resolved to make a study of the old man and his surroundings before I awoke him. I took a seat and looked at him. For a man nearly eighty years of age he is certainly well -preserved. He is tall, strong built, and seems quite erect. While most men at his age are either very white-haired or have no hair at all, Father Jesse is scarcely bald.— His hair and whiskers are a deep iron gray, and are heavy and bushy. He is sharp-featured, but there is a firm-I and giving it to the poor.” At the ness about the upper part of the face.' same time, mind you, I told Stoms that His mouth and chin reminded me uf j there might be something siusisterin the Hon. Horace Greeley. The room the affair, and that while he could ap- in which Father Jesse sat was, like the point Werthoff and take the five huu- office itself, a mass of dirt and filth, I died dollars to give to the poor, he and looked as if it hadn’t been swept i could watch Werthoff, and if he found for a mouth. The floor is covered with ! anything wrong, why he could oust a dirty green ingrain carpet, and the! him. rest of the furniture consists of an old ! A singular suggestion. haircloth sofa and two or three chairs, j Correspondent—Why, Mr. Grant, The room was cold and cheerless. | don’t you remember that Whittemore name for some time. He then turned the back of the card and looked at that for a minute, then the edge, and then again the name. He next adjusted the Corbin spectacles, and repeated the process. Finally he looked up. “You’re sure,” said he, “you ain’t one of them Cincinnati newspaper men ?” I looked at Mr. Grant with an injur ed air. “I hope, sir,” I said, “you don’t con found me with a Cincinnati newspa per man. I am net one of them.” Father Jesse looked gratified beyond measure. “I have seen the President frequent ly, and at one time I enjoyed the hon or of a slight acquaintance with him,” I continued, “but I believe I have nev er before had the pleasure of meeting his venerable sire,” and I bowed most profoundly. STATEMENT OF FATHER JESSE. Now Father Jesse is as deal as a post, and these highly flattering re marks of mine were made in most beautiful staccato voice that I believe I ever attained, and as a matter of course this high pressure couldn’t be kept up very long without breaking down. I therefore waited for Father Grant to say something. “You must excuse me, but I’m dreadful afraid of them Cincinnati newspaper men, and so I have to be a little careful. Them fellers have nearly drove me distracted formore’n a week. Maybe you’ve heard some thing about them stories that one of the lyin' papers over the river got up about me offerin’ a young pup in Cin cinnati some money to make an <1^- pointment. I bowed indifferently. “Well,” old Jesse continued, “them Cincinnati newspaper men have run me to death about it. Yesterday one of’em was put out of the office by a friend of mine, and I guess I won’t be bothered much more with them. But I’m glad to see you, sir. Please take a seat,” and the old gentlemen motion ed me to a chair. “them stomses,” he said “are the biggest scoundrels in Cincinnati. I found ’em out a long time ago, and I wrote to the Revenue De- partment|tbat they wasno r to be trus ted,you seeHorace Stoms was the Asses sor of Internal,Revenue over the river. He’s a boy, and don’t know anything. Old Stoms, he used to iuu the office, and they say he has managed to feath er his nest out ofit, along with anoth er son, Willard by name. They got down on me for some reason or other, aud now they’ve hatched these infer nal lies.” Correspondent—I’m glad to hear you say, Mr, Grant, thal^the charge of bribery was a lie. Mr. Grant—Well, the fact—that is to say, the naked fact as Horace Stoms tells it—I believe is true ; but the cou- struction him and the old man puts on it is an outrageous lie. The fact of the matter was this : A third per son, a very wealthy man, said, “I will give $500 for the appointment of a certain man as gauger named Wert hoff.” I went to old Billy Stoms, be cause he was really the Assessor, and asked him if he would appoint Wert hoff. I found out about Werthoff*that ■he was a very clever man, but one who was very anxious to make money, and would make constructions of law to suit his interests. He was an expe rienced gauger. Old Stoms said. “We will not appoint Werthoff” He used the word “we” because he admitted that there was a partnership in the office. I spoke to Stoms for Werthoff again, saying that I had found him to be a reliable man but anxious to make money. I said to Stoms, “I have not spoken to Werthoff on the subject, but a third person proposes to give five hundred dollars if one of these two men can be appointed. You might as well take that five hundred dollars and give it to the poor ; it will be only transferring it from a very rich man The hat worn by the father of the President lay on- the old sofa, as did the heavy wooden cane, which has grown to be somewhat of a terror to Cincinnati reporters. The former look ed as if it might have been ten or fif teen years ago a silk hat; but time has worked almost as many changes in the hat as it iias in the wearer, and consequently it now looks like a relic of a bygone age. The father of the President was dressed in a well-worn black suit. I regret to say also that the father of the Government had on a shirt that needed washing, and wore very muddy boots. However, “it is not dress that makes the man,” and I was thoroughly conviuced that it could not be dress that made the Covington Postmaster. waking uf father grant. I at length resolved to wake the old gentleman up as the handsome young man had suggested. Grasping- him by the shoulder, I gave him a vigorous shake aud shouted in bis ear. “Mr. Grant!” Father Jesse opened his eyes half way, and looked vacant. I gave him another shake, and this had the desir ed effect. “What do you want,} young man ?” said hrv “I beg pardon for disturbing you, sir, but a young man in the office told me you were disengaged,” I replied, and handed him my private card. Old Jesse took up the bit of pasteboard aud looked at it. He pored over the was kicked out of Congress for a sim ilar offence—i. e. taking $500 to give to the poor ? Mr. Grant—Yes, but this case is dif ferent. Here was a rascal that waut- ! ed to get an appointment and offered to buy it.. At any time he did wrong he could be kicked out of office before fie did -much damage. I thought we might just as well take his money and devote it to some good purpose. But old Storns would not do it, and now he comes out against me in a sort of a blackmailing way. My son sent his letter that he wrote to him straight to me and I have it now. taking leave of father JESSE. Father Grant here opened anew the vials of his wrath upon the Stomses.— He wooled them and skinned them, auJ even went for their under cuticle. He told their history, how much he had done for them, aud gave me the full story of their ingratitude ; but as it does not differ Bom his statements already printed, I do not send it. He talked with me, I suppose, for over two hours. How much longer he wou:d have talked I do not know, for a gentleman with a large sandy mous tache opened the door and claimed his attention. Father J esse arose, and en tered into a lively conversation with him. During the talk I took the op portunity of bidding the good old gen tleman farewell. He shook hands with me very warmly, and urged me to visit iuin agaiu il I ever came to Cincinnati. ttUNDAY IN WAN DODIINUO. Hogarth never painted a more strik ing picture of brutal life among the thieves and scum of old London, than a shocking scene in a cock pit. In that memorable representation of the most degraded tastes and passionB of the lowest class, the immortal painter has shown us what was possible in human depravity in those times. It seems that iu San Domingo, at the present day, such tastes and such scenes are enjoyed alike by all classes of the population. From this catego ry we are not to except the govern ment officials with whom General Grant is treating for the acquisition of that country. The moral and in tellectual stato of a people may be judged as well from their amusements as from anything else. A San Do mingo letter to the Cincinnati Gazette gives us some light in this view of the case, concerning the character of the people whom Grant proposes to annex. The writer is describing an entertainment which lasted all day on Sunday. He says: “ It was noori when a party of us looked in. Matters had become ex citing, and betting ran high. A fight had just ended as wo entered, and so we saw the method of managing while arrangements were making for the next. The birds are brought in, put into small bags, and weighed. The spurs are then measured, and both the weight of bird and length of spur were made known, and recorded in a book. The birds then have their spurs sharpened, and are next put down in the ring for exhibition, but kept apart. Betting then begins, and the scene comes a little nearer pandemonium in its aspect than the gold room in New York on days of pauic—nearer, because of the mixture which the crowd presents. All colors aud races, and all grades of intelligence, from the most savage and brutish to the high est officers of the government, join in the yells and shouts by which they make their bets known. The Beene was disgusting beyond measure. And yet it was valuable, as shedding a flood of light upon the really savage char acter of this people. If the lower or ders alone had been there, it would have been less significant, but here before us, in the pit, helping at the weighing, and the measuring of spurs, Was oue of the three cabinet ministers, the minister of finance, and of the in terior, who a few days before had, with Baez, formally received our com mission. With him, engaged iu sharp ening spurs, and in a general superin tendence of the fighting, was the Gov ernor of this province, and near them, and as intent as any, was the military Governor of this city. The high and the low, both in civil, military and official life, were there, and for the time looked, acted and talked like savages. Since, vve have learned, beyond doubt, that all of the cabinet, as well as all the principal cials of every grade, habitually at- ^ hese disgusting spectacles. Not as the common fighting of the birds brutal, but if one, well whipped, attempted to get out of the pit, he was beaten back ; and on one occasion there were fierce cries of disapproval from all sides because a chicken that had knocked his exhausted opponent over, was allowed to continue the pleasing spectacle of picking his eyes out, over five minutes. And these scenes, of which the above picture is no exaggeration, occur Sunday after Sunday the year around, and often twice a week. Imagine Governor Cox and Secretary Boutwell assisting at a cock fight in Washington for the great er part of Sunday !” What a glorious country for Grant! After annexation he will no doubt sell his cottage at Long Branch and make his summer residence in San Domingo, where, with congenial intellects and tastes, he will enjoy the refined sports of the cock-pit, as well as those of the dog-ring and the turf, lor the latter of which he is known to have such a de cided predilection. cauiuei jdficials What i* the best way to cook Irish Potatota and servv them 7 ” * * We answer this useful aud practical question by an extract from a work by Mrs. Bcetos, *• The Book ot Household Management”—published in London. Let our reader* try the method hero laid down, aud our word for it, the Irish potatoe will seem to possess new charms to those who iike our correspondent—do not know how to prepare it.— To each ha if gallon water add oue heaped table spoonful salt. To obtain this wholesome and de- iicious vegetable cooked in perfection, it should be boiled and sent to the table with skin oa. In Ireland, where, perhaps, the cooking of potatoes is better understood than iu any country, they are always served so. Wash the potatoes well, aud if necessary, use a clean scrubbiug brush to remove dirt from them ; and if possible choose the pota toes so that they may be as nearly the same size a* possible. When thoroughly cleaned, fill the pan Laif full with them, and just cover the potatoee with cold water, salted in the above proportion ; they are more quickly boiled with a small quantity of water, and besides, are more savoury, tban when drowned iu it. Bring them to boil, then draw the pan to the aide of the tire, aud let them simmer gently until tender. Ascertain when they are done by probing them with a lork ; then pour off the water, uncover the saucepan, aud let the potatoes dry by the side of the lire, takiDg care not to let them burn, Peel them quickly, put them in a very hot vegetable-dish, either with or without a napkin, aud serve very quickly. After potatoes are cooked, they should never be entirely covered up, as the steam, instead of escaping falls down ou them aud makes them watery and in sipid. In Ireland they a.e usually served up with the skins ou, and a small plate is placed by the aide of each guest. Time-Moderate sized potatoes with tboir skins on, 20 to 25 miuutes after the water boil* ; large potatoes, 25 minutes to | hour or longer; 5 miuutes to dry them.” Marriel Mem.—There is an expression in the face of a good married man who has a good wife, that a bachelor's cannot have, It ia indescribable. He is a little nearer the angola than the prettiest fellow living. You can see that his broad breast is a pillow for somebody’s bead, and that little Angers pull his whiskers It is ouly the erratic one who leaves you ia doubt. The good oue can protect all the unprotected females, and make him self generally agreeable to the ladies, aud yet nev er leave a doubt ou auy miud that there is a pre cious little woman at heme worth all the werJa to him.—Forney’s Frets. A complete revolution iu tile tactics of the adinirert* of the fair sex was produced in Paris by the exigen cies ot the siege. Pi eseuts of food were made to the objects of male adoration instead of jewelry, baubles and gewgaws. An American lady, who was in the city during the hard times just paaaed away, write* that “Gen. B. had given her ten boxes of sardinee,” so ou. Th* successful suiter among these three prog, lieu! uduu'vn is uvt named.

Georgia Historic Newspapers

Federal union. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1865-1872, March 21, 1871, Image 1