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VOLUME IV.
! PHILETUS P. CLEMENT; ;
—4 - - +—*
1 HOUSE & SIGN PAINTER i
; - *
Thome, ga.. i
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SmnmeftiiUe f *fett*
SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA, MAY 10. 1811.
Soap in Poetry.
Messrs. Water and Oil
One day had a broil,
As down on the grass they were dropping
And would not unite,
Rut continued to fight,
Without any prospect of stopping.
Mr. Pearlash o’erheard,
And quick as a word,
Hejuinped in the midst of the clashing;
When all three agreed,
And united with speed,
And Soap came out ready for washing.
♦ •♦-
Woman.
A woman in a neighborhood is only ex
ceeded by another woman. She can love
truer or hate worse than the uienofordi
nary calibre.
She can make of a home a little heaven
or a little hell, on less capital than any
other business can be carried on.
She can make a ten ora hundred dollar
bill go up, 0 how quick.
She can drive a man out of the house, if
her tongue be working all right, quicker
than Roast Rutlcr could get away with a
set of spoons.
She is better than pine or stone coal for
keeping a neighborhood boiling hot and
home more unendurable than a burn on
vour first thumb joint; ali the time mak
ing you think she is a package ot refined
innocence, a saint, a favorable angulie ad
vertising agent Gabriel.
She can kiss another woman sweeter
and then talk about her worse than one of
those Reform Republicans can talk about
tlto President.
Ami she knows more by intuition af all
the affairs of the neighborhood than Grant
snows about his relations or the posi
otfice presents lie receives or is to.
She can be nicer to a woman she hates
than a scalawag politician is to a negro
before be has voted.
She can walk further to display a now
dress than a loyal or disloyal contraband
could travel for chickens in the night.
And God bless her, if she loves a man,
she will stick to him longer than the Dent
family did to the immortal speak-maker
Ulysses!
Like dollars, good women are hard to
get, hard to keep, bothersome to look
af.cr, but here is a conumdrum: How can
we got along without them.
And notwithstanding all this, every
young man wants to marry and have his
own mother-in-law. — I outern//-
Gain;* to Heaven by Railroad.
At a station a little girl cat no abiWfl
the train, carrying a .small buudie under
her arm. Alter taking a scat, she com
menced an eager scrutiny effaces, but all
were strange to her. Site appeared
weary, and placing her bundle for a pil
low, she prepared to secure a little sleep.
So in the conductor came through the ear
collecting tickets and fares. Observing
him, she asked it she might lie there,
'l'he gentlemanly conductor replied that
she might, and then kindly asked for her
ticket. She informed him that she had
none, when the following conversation
ensued:
Said the conductor, “Where are you
going?” _
She answered “I am going to heaven.
lie ask. and again “Who pay your fare?’’
She then said, “Mister does this road
go to heaven, and does Jesus travel on
lie answered, “lie does not. Why
did you think so?"
“Why, sir, before my tna died she used
to sing to me about the heavenly railroad,
and you looked so nice and kind 1 thought
that this was the road. My ma used to
sing of Jesus on the heavenly railroad,
and that lie paid the fare for every
body, and that the train stopped at every
station to take people on hoard; hut ma
don't sing to me now and I thought that
I would go to mu. Mister do you sing to
your little girl about the railroad that g< e t
to heaven? You have a little girl, haven t
you?"
He replied weeping; “No, my little
dear, 1 have no little girl now. 1 had one
hut she died some time ago, and went to
heaven.”
Again she asked, “Did she go aver this
railroad, and are you going to see her
now?
By tiiis time all in the carriage were on
their feet, arid most of them were weep
ing. Any attempt to describe what I wit
nessed is aim.ist futile. Some said, “God
biess the little girl!”
Hearing some person use the word
angel, she said, ‘ Yes my ma said I would
be an angel some time.
Addressing herself once more to the
conductor, she asked him, “Do you love
Jesus? 1 do, and if you love him, he will
let you ride to heaven on his railroad. I
am going there, and I wish you would go
with me. 1 know Jesus will lotme_ into
heaven when I get there, and lie will let
y.m in too, and everybody that will ride
■>n His railroad —yes, all these people.
Wouldn't you like to see heaven, arid
Jesus, and your little girl?’’
These words, so innocently and pathet
ically uttered, brought a great rush of
teai from all eyes, but most profusely
from the eyes of the conductor. Some
who were traveling on the heavenly road
shouted aloud for joy.
She now asked the eon luetor, “Mister,
may I lie here till we got to heaven?
He answered, "Yes, my dear, yes.”
She then asked, “Will you wake me up
then, so I may see uiy ma, your little giri
and Jesus? I do so much want to set;
them all.”
The answer came in broken accents but
in words very tenderly spoken, '' \ es, dear
angel, yes. God bless you!”
"Amen.” was sobbed by more than a
score id’ voices. Turning her eyes again
upon the conductor, she interrogated him
again:
"What shall I say to her that 1 saw
her [>a on Jesus’ railroad? Shall I?”
This brought a fresh flood of tears from
all present, and the conductor kneeled by
her side, and embracing her, weeped the
reply which he could not utter.
At this juncture the brakesman called
out, H si the conductor arose and re
quested him to attend to his (the con
ductor's) duty at the station, for lie was
engaged. That was a precious place, l
thank God that 1 was a witness to this
scene, hut l was sorry that at this point
1 was obliged to leave the train. Wo
learn from this iroidiint, that out of the
mouth of even babes God hath ordained
strength, and that we ought to be willing
to represent the cause of our Rlessed
Jesus when in a railroad eoacli.
Adam and Eve’s Wedding
Did you ever contemplate the poverty
of Adam when he took Five for hotter or
worse? Only tliiuk of it. He hadn't a
hat to his head, a coat to his back, a pair
of shoes to his feet, nor “tuuy a red cent’’
in his trousers pocket. Eve brought no
dowry; she had nothing to bestow save
her iove and affection, and he was the
only young follow around, it was hiui or
nobody. Equally as poor as her husband,
she came to him without a bonnet ir
shawl, calico gown, or even a pair of
slippers. Moses forgot in his reminis
cences to give us any account of the wed
uing trip, nut from what wo can gather in
regard to the wardrobes of that day, their
baggage would have proved no incum
brance —*or a very limited amount sufficed
and dressing to please everybody was of
no account, for there wore none but, them
selves to please. Doubtless their whole
ou lit for traveling drosses, water proofs,
dusters, lunch baskets, and all l o could
have carried cii the pockets of his tiousers.
They must, have started house-keening,
also, upon as small a capital as could well
be imagined. They hadn’t, as Liras can
be gleaned from history, a f air brush, a
fine tooth comb, a Lowell, or soap; no
hitters, soothing syrup, clothes wringers,
smoothing-irons—no nothing.
Adam was afraid to invite his wife to go
to an excursion with him through fear of
having to go down Jeep into his trousers
pocket for the wherewithal to buy a suit
able outfit—for the reason that he had no
pockets in his trousers; nor was he,
bothered about the trunk cheeks, nor did
he swear at the baggage-sma hersor brook
the nisiiloncc of railroad officials.
There was no good and sufficient reason
why they shouldn't have been an amiable
c uple and bad a good time generally.
They washed their own clothes doubtless
by a dive in the Euphrates, and there
being no clothes-lines, their clothes were
allowed to dry upon (heir hacks, and Adam
didn’t care a rush whether his shirt bosom
was smoth or not. and why should Eve
bother her head about it so long as her
husband was suited.
Ghosts That Haunt Us
Our lives are haunted by the ghosts of
lost opportunities —wandering restlessly
in the graveyard of the bygone. They
peer at us with hollow eyes and point at
us with bony fingers. They taunt us with
past failures, with broken resolutions ami
perished dreams. Before we entered the
arena of conflict we telt strong and bravo
—we panted for the battle to begin. We
longed to go forth “conquering and to
conquer,” to burst away I'ioni childhood's
home, and out iri the groat world win for
ourselves a name and fame. Well, the
years have come and the years have gone.
We have found by bitter experience that
victory was not so easily won; hearts are
gashed and scarred, brows furrowed, eyes
heavy with the burden of unshed tears.
Then these ghosts of regret tour and lash
us, asking where is the name we intended
to wreathe with immurtulis; where arc the
sheaves wc meant to garner; where are
the proud trophies with which we intend
ed tn beautify our lives and homes. Alas!
these dreams, these schemes, these am
bitions are gone—gone—dead with the
dead years; buriorl, blown over by winds
of desolation. We can do nothing but
go her up the broken fragments of our
life work, and make of them the most we
may. Hut evermore these thoughts of
what we might have beet’, and might have
done, will haunt us; they will pale the
glory of the noonday sun and glare at us
in the dumb darkcuss of the midnight;
but though they lash us at times almost
to madness, yet a'-,. they sent, by Wisdom’s
baud, and guided by Mercy's swiy. They
touch us tostiive harder and look higher;
to be more forbearing with the failure, of
our brother man, made in like fashion
with ourselves, and prone, always prone,
to err. Still, let us not mo-hidly cherish
these ghosts; strive to regain what the
dead years have lost. Let us gather up
i'ic link’s (bat are still left, and make of
them a golden chain, with which to bind
our lives to that higher and hotter one
beyond. Sunny Sonin.
Jonah's gourd was nothing to the
gourd in the possession of Mr. Pritchard,
of Emanuel county, which gourd is two
hundred years old, and has the following
history: “This gourd was raised in .North
Carolina, ami has been handed down from
generation to generation for all these long
years. During the greater part of the
time it was used for a vessel to hold black
pepper. Mr. Pritchard'- grandmother,
who lived to he nearly eighty-four years
old, g ve the gourd to him forty-six years
ago; since then he has used it for a pow
der gourd. It is very thin now and worn
smooth by long j ears of service, hut per
fectly sound,”
A Sensible Mother.
It is really pitiful to see a good con
scientious little mother resolutely shutting
herself away from so much that is
best and sweetest in her children’s lives
for the sake of tucking their dresses and
ruffling their petticoats. How surprised
an 1 grieved she will ho to find that her
boys ar.d girls, at sixteen, regard mother
chiefly as most excellent, person to keep
shirts in order and to make new dresses,
and not as one to whom they care to go
for social companionship I Yet, before
they arc snubbed out of it by repeated re
buffs, such as, “Run away, I’m too busy
to listeu to your nonsense.” children
naturally go to their mothers with all
their sorrows and pleasures; and if mother
can cnly enter into all their little plans
Low pleased they are! Such a shout of
delight as 1 heard last summer from Mrs.
Friendly’s croquet ground, where two lit
tle girls wens playing. "Oh, goody, goodv
maunna is coming to play with us!” She
was a busy mother too, and 1 know would
have much preferred to use what few mo
ments of recreation she could snatch for
something interesting than playing cro
quet with little children, not much taller
than their mallets. She has often suid to
me, "I cannot let my children grow away
from me, I must, keep right along with
them all the time, and whether it is cro
quet with the little ones, or Latin gram
mar and base-ball with the boys, or
French dictation or sash-ribbons with the
girls, I must he ‘in it’ us iiir as I can.”
The Fox in the Well.
A wolf one day heard a strange noise in
a well. Ho went r,o :ee what was the
cause of it. lie soon found out, for there
deep down was his old friend, the fox.
"Oh! my good iriend,” said the fox,
“how glad lam to see you! I know you
will do your best to help me out. You
can soon get a rope, or find out some way
by which to save me.”
"Poor fox —poor foxl" said the wolf.
“It grieves me much to see you there.
I’ray. how did you get in? You were not
so wise as you might have been, I think.
Have you been down there a long time?
i hope things are not quite so bad with
you as you seem to think they are From
my heart I wish you well, and hope to
see you all right ere long.”
“My friend wolf, do not stand there
and tease me with soft words when I am
in so much need of help. Talk is cheap.
Can you find means to get mo out of the
well? If.so will you? If you can and will
I here is no t ine to be lost. If you can,
and will not, leave me. I may have done
wrong, hut you have no right to tell me
so till you prove that you are tny friend
by deeds ns well as by wonts. I(' you wish
me well, use me weli. Wore you in my
place and I in yours, you would not thank
me for kind words if my acts we e not
kind too.”
Moral. —Let us show our good will by
helpful deeds, rather than cheap words
alone.
A Rising’ Lad.
A hoy borrowed a tool from a canpetitor,
promising to return it at night. Before
evening he was sent away on an errand
and did not return until late. Before
going he was told that his brother should
see that the article was returned. After
lie had come home he inquired and found
that the tool had not been sent to its
owner, lie was much distressed to think
that his promi-e had not been kept, hut
was persuaded to go to sleep and rise
early and carry it Inline the next morning,
liy daylight In; was up, and nowhere was
the tool to be found. After a long and
fruitless search, lie set out for h s neigh
bor's in groat distress, to acknowledge his
fault, lint bow great was his surprise to
find the tool on his neighbor's door stone!
And then it appeared from the prints of
hi* little bare lent in the mud, that the
lad had got up in his sleep and carried
the tool homo and gone to bed agaoi
without kno wing it. Of course a boy who
was prompt io his sleep was prompt when
awake. He lived respected had the con
fidence of bis neighbors, and was placed
in many offices of trust and profit. If all
grown folks lell as this boy did, there
would be a good many tracks ol bare feet
found some of th ;se bright mornings; and
what piles of books and tools would be
found at their owners' doors. Harpers
Magazine.
-♦
A gentleman from New Orleans relates
a little aneedate of Gov. NicholH. He
was so badly damaged .lid battered dur
ing the war that, there is only enough of
body left to hold that unconquerable
spirit which has made him the terror of
tyrants. Being at a strange place during
the canvass, before retiring, he startled
tlie servant, who had biought him a
pitcher of water, by asking him to un
screw his arm. When that service was
performed, he said, “Now, unscrew my
leg ” By that time the Degree's eyes
were turned wrong side out with a'.arm,
and he gingerly removed the loose mem
ber. Noticing his alarm, Guv. Nieholls
solemnly said: “Now unscrew my head.”
The negro turned ashy, executed a double
somersault out of the door and down
stairs, and hastened to annouuce. out of
breath that the devil was upstairs and
wanted his head taken oil.
Two hoys going home one day, found a
box in the road, and disputed who was the
tinder. They fought a whole afternoon
without coming to a decision. At last
they agreed to divide the contents equally,
but on opening the box, lo and behold! it
was empty. Few wars have been more
profitable to the parties concerned than
this.
NUMBER 19.
Captain Gunson, of the shin I’atterdale,
relates a thrilling story of the escape of
one of his ship's boys from the maw ol a
shark. The ship was in the tropics, with
wind enough to keep the canvas flopping,
and one of the apprentices was over the
weather side cleaning off. The Captain,
standing on the poop deck, noticed the
boy was careless, and warned him to luok
out for himself and not tumble overboard.
The ship was going about three knots an
hour, and the sen almost as calm as a
mill pond. The lad, in a moment of care
lessness. lost his balance and lull from the
platform and slung over the side. The
Captain saw the accident and threw him
a ladder, which the boy grasped and
clambered up the rounds as the ship left
him astern.
No sooner had the hoy settled himself
on the ladder than a brace of large blue
sharks ranged up alongside, and actually
reared their heads out of the water in
their eagerness to taste the young sailor.
The boy screamed lustily and grew half
frantic from terror. The ship was hove
to and a boat was lowered. Still the boy
hung on the ladder, trying to keep his
legs tree from the snapping of the vicious
sharks, which seemed actually to jump
out of the water to get at him. After
some twenty-five minutes of horrible sus
pense a boat was lowered and he got into
it. As sooitas the hoy found himself safe
he fainted. It was a fearfully narrow
escape. San Francisco Mail.
The followidg is an extinct from Hamp
ton’s Charleston speech:
I was the first man in America—cer
! tainly the first in the South —who advo
| cated the granting of the right to vote to
j the colored man | Applause.] That is on
!my record. Only n few days ago I saw in
the New York Vn.i”,a: a statement made
by its editor. Wliileluw Reid, that in 18o,>
1 told him that the Northern Republicans
would want to take away the right of
' voting from the colored people long be
i fore the South ever would.
During the late canvass 1 made a pre
diction that the colored people would very
soon find that the only protection they
had for their elective franchise wouM_.be
from the white men of the South. Y'ou
will live te sec i*.
1 want to toll you an incident which has
happened since my election. When I
was in Washington recently, five or six or
more prominent Republicans, men high
in position, actually consulted me as to
how the vote of the colored man could
best be restricted. I tell you what is
true. My answer was:
“We don’t want the vote of the colored
man taken away or restricted, lor, aside
from the friendship we bear this race,
their right to vote gives us thirty more
votes in Congress, and when peace comes
we are satisfied that the best men of both
! races and prrties will vote together for the
J Commonwealth. We don’t want to take
j that right away.” [Great applause.] I
! stand precisely in the same position that
! 1 took twelve years ago.
The Boy’s Wish.
The other night, about ten o’clock, a
■ policeman passing along Larned street
came upon a bo ’ who was walking up and
| down in front of a house, when the lad
was asked if ho lived there, and why he
did not go in, lie replied:
| “Dad's waiting for me with a whip.”
“Going to dust your jacket, is ho?”
“That's the programme,” sighed the
boy, “unless 1 can think up something to
unfasten his mind from the subject. If I
could rush in and tell him that a big fire
was raging down town, or that the mayor
Was dead, or soaie such tiling, he’d be
taken by surprise ami forget all about
dressing me down.”
“And you can’t think of anything
else?”
“Nota thing. I wish the old gent was
in the habit of stealing his wood, getting
into the house of correction, or doing
somet i ing that would give me a hold on
him, but lie’s straighter than an alder
man’s elbow. ”
Some fifty years ago a gang of Belgian
miners, angry with another set o! under
ground workers, set a mass of coal on fire
to smoke out their comrades. How well
they succeeded let the record of half a
century tell. Years have passed away,
a generation has faded, the angry pas
sings of those who lints sought revenge
has become a thing of the past; hut the
fire, started in that long ago, biases on,
and no carth'y skill has yet found the way
to extinguish it. Burning on, ever eon
sutning, it is a fitting type of the unceas
ing power of sin and passion. “One sin
: nor dostroycth much good.” “W hatso
ever a man soweth, that shall he also
reap.” A r F. Observer.
' i’ut out your tongue a little further,
said a physician to a fair invalid. “A lit
: tie further still, if you please.' _ “'V by,
doctor, do you think a woman’s tongue
lias no end?” said the gentle sufferer.
“An end, perhaps, madam.'' replied the
‘doctor, “but no eos-ation.”
A somewhat simple woman was a !,c 1
whether her husband feared God, and re,
plied, “1 guess he does, for he never goes
i out on Sundays without taking his gun
| with him.”
A bashful young clergyman recently
1 rising to preach for the first time, an
nounced his text this wise: “And imme
diately the cock wept, and Peter went
out am) crew bitterly,