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BLOOD POISON!
100 Bottles of Another Blood Medi
cine Used-No Relief Until
£,8.8 Was Usttl
llauftov, li \ , .tunc Utli, itWil.
Buiou lUl.x <V; -Vonr 11. It 11. has work
il on uie like a clitfhu. Three bottled liave
'•< ms more good than all doctors and 100
otilesof the incest n<>t<d remedy. lam get
-114, well rapidly. .U! ulcershealed, nt aching
f my' botiPH, no pain* m xnv back, amLjiiV
kiu is becoming clear. The 'effect, t HrW. ti.
n ray kidneyn is something woDdoflnil. My
tiieuds are astonished. My family ;
ys it i tin* only mrtUoiuo I ever used suited
o ray case. I would take /jdeaaure in eorrea
■omling with any one intvreHtol. as I can’t
mdp praise■ /;. P. Indeed it is a great
lilt ah! Punt- r. Give am i; w address vrho
may nail for i\ A. V. \V.
Address, BLOOD BALM ( 0., Atlanta, (i4i
r. r v Summerville,mis.
fwlah Cured Alter Scvfriil’hvsifiaß
FIILF.P.
- On tin 2Sili dav of April, 1883, Willium Spa
look, 12 year# Of age, prist nted himself to Dr.
Gillani. down ing to lui<>w if 11. li. It. would
tore him. lit lives on Dr. L. A. Guild's
idaoe, near th etm* lory, and the ease is well
known ly Dr, Guild, who lias particularly
noticed it.
The Inn had a foul scrofulous nicer involv
.ng the entire elbow joint, w ith which he had
been afllietcd over twelve months. It had de
stroyed the h>iiH*ilicittl structure, and was fast
approaching the deeper tissues. He could not
bend the arm. and had strong indications of
the same ithVroiH condition of the shoulder.
Tvo physicians of the city had treated
the ease, but Without any perceptible change
in his condition. He was placed upon the
treatment of li. li. li , and one single bottle
(Mired the foul nicer and restored the fast de
generating condition of the child, and lie ir
now enjoying the finest of health.
'i bis is a plain mid unmistakable ease of
well defined scrofula, and recognized as such,
• nied with one single lottle of B. B. 8., and
i take pleasure in asking any interested party
to address Dr. 1. A. Guild, Atlanta, (la., on
he subject relative value of the medicine in
If,one wall defile and ease of scrofula can la?
cured, othe rs can be cured also.
BLOOD BALM Op.,
Atlanta, Georgia.
Hold in Summerville, by
IS THAT SO?
Yts, it’s u fa. t. that out large bottle of B. B.
Ji - ring only -1 i warranted to produce ar
much remedial effect ’it the cure of ail Blood
JVisnu as three bottles of tin most famous
Mood medicines of the day. Yea, three t
■ e : that's th- way w put it. and we are at l<
• Im* k our word with sinfhi ; cNidewee. it. I*.
It i- the (juick blood n-mfdy. and there is m
mistake about it. The woof is printed the
fiat has gout forth the tocsin has been sound
ed, and "In that hath ears to bear, let bin
V — c 1 |T
hew Home
Q. v^ingVv!^
o|^a®i e
p5iP<F
no EQ uAt Z&CJIc
NEVBUSifiuaoiEG
* 30 UNION SQUARE NEWYORK
0*' CA <? 0 0 * **<?*.
ILL. MASS GA.
fOR SALE BY
PH A* U U fc CAIN,
BGMMERFIELD, GA,
POO
POifSOfflcc orders from all portions of
tie eoantry will • a r'l**/
IJONKOOINE, the only wife, q-ilfk and
positive care for n ute u:id chronic
Conorrli -a a:i<l < Ueet ever u?cd. < urea
offer tc<S under five days, requiring no
internal remedies, no chan-re of diet,
or lots of time. Ifourtlon <l.*s;roy and
antagonizes every of venereal
poison with vhUh it eo.riea in con
tact, and is harmless to healthy parts
iijp-jjraorrflyrT nrnmr ‘t> 9
POO
A Pot-Oftiec order for?!.oo will bay
’ three bottles of IJ<>NKOOIN'K, the only
harmless vegetable compound ever
offered \ hich positively cures awl pre
vents t!i* ‘ contagion of an v and all ve
nereal diseases.
The constant, persevering and uni
versal use of this re:.-yly would effect*
ually wipe out all venereal diseases
from the f ■e of tli? earth. O. and G.
can 1 !;her be cv utr.-o I nor exist
when iti* U: feuse it destroys by
mere contact. Halim - nil pain,sab
dues t!i“ inilitmr.mtiou and promotes
quiet slumbers.
poo
A well known railroader writes as
follows:
Atlanta, Fetj'y el. I vi ''-
Bonkodu'* Co.:—“ lea i ' v y V* ! (
commenced the t I* ( 'd /
for a bad case of 0. wh i- h i
A the skill and luedhin. oi ;-b; *•
cions,and three hou 1 -* : ' - . .and
and well. I 10-..notime, i |d ■
remedy and did not chan,!/.- . r
It U a U -' -iny to those wh >se ! -,h are
not bright.’'
Discard ell capsules. co;-j< etc*,and
dsethat which never in: and will
keep you cured for liie by a* dug R
preventive. I
One bottle fI.M. or three tor tif*
Sold by drcggLt; on.
eelpt of price.
ISONKOCiN'E 0r,..,
7S> VVUtUihaU s-wt.
A.iaiitu, Cia,
€1 )t' £htmmcrt)iUc ©ujettc.
VOL X.
ALONE.
I mis* you, my darling, my darling;
The embers burn low on the hearth;
And stilled is the stir of the household,
And hushed is the voice of its mirth ;
The rain plashes fast on the terrace,
The winds past the lattice, moan;
The midnight chimes out from the minster,
And I am alone.
I want yon, my darling, my darling,
I am tired with care and with fret;
I would nestle in silence beside you.
And all but your presence forget,
In the hush of the happiness given
To those, who through trusting have grown
To the fulinoss of love in contentment;
But I am alone.
1 call you, my darling, my darling,
My voice echoes back on my heart;
1 stretch my arms to you in louging,
And lo ! they fall empty apart;
I whisper the sweet words you taught me,
The Words that we only have known,
Till the blank of the dumb air is bitter,
For 1 am alone.
I need you, my darling, my darling,
With its yearning my very heart aches
The load that divides us weights harder
I shrink from the jar that it makes.
Old sorrows rise up to beset me;
Old doubts make my spirit their own,
Oh, come through the darkness and save me,
For I am alone.
A HAPPY CHRISTMAS.
BY WILLIS H. OOOKE.
It was just one week before Christ
mas.
Soft and satin-white the snow layover
the fields about the old court; like tiuy
drops of blood, the scarlet holly-berries
gleamed through the woods, and the
avenue of black-green pines seemed to
fold their drnidical garments at Hint them
like a row of solemn old sentinels,
scarcely bending their heads to the rush
of the stormy west winds.
Lulu Ripley sat in the great, orioi
window that faced the west, her cheek
leaning in her hand, and her great dark
eyes fixed, with unseeing lustre, on the
steel-blue surface of the frozen river,
where the orange shine of the sunset
mirrored itself like a pool of gold. And
ms she sat, there came a tap at the door.
‘‘Come in!” said Lulu, almost impa
tiently, as if it were an annoyance to her
even to be disturbed.
It was Kmma, the apple-cheeked
maid.
“Please, miss,” said Emma, smooth
ing down her white-frilled apron, “Simon
has just come from the woods with a
wagon-load of mistletoes and holly and
princess-pine, miss, and lie says, where
will you be pleased to have it put ?”
“Nowhere,” retorted Miss Ripley. “I
want no meaningless decorations about
my house.”
Emma started.
“But, miss, it’s only one week from
to day, and ”
“I shall keep noChristmos this year !"
said Miss llipley, sharply. “Why
should I? It is only a name to mo
now.”
And she dropped her head on her
hand once more, with a great lump ris
ing in her throat, as she rememliered
last Christmas, when Will Graham was
at her skill, his strong, loving arms
about her, his tender voice in her ears.
“We’ll keep next Christmas just in
this merry, old-fashioned way, God
willing,” he had said.
And then he had gone away on that
long voyage, and his vessel had been
wrecked in sight of land, off the cruel
reefs of
The news had come when the first
snow-storm folded its wings of pearl
about the bleak landscape—and Lulu
Ripley hail never held her head up
since.
“Please, miss,” said little Emma,
when she came in to light the cluster ol
candles that stood in a silver stem on
the table, and heap fresh coal on the
tire of scarlet-glowing anthracite, “conic 1
I go home for Christmas day ?”
, “No 1” said Lulu, shortly, “you can
not. Why should I be inconvenienced
for your silly revels ?”
“It you please, miss, mother is tc
“No! I tell you no!” said Luiu
“And let that be sufficient.”
Emma crept out, abashed and deject
ed, and Miss Ripley felt a sort of
gloomy satisfaction in Slaving quelled
the girl’s fresh enthusiasm.
“Christmas 1 ’ she repeated bitterly to
herself. “I have nothing to keep Christ
mas for! Heaven has held back the
drop of sweetness from my cup, and not
all the chiming of every church bell in
the laud can make me thankful 1”
As tlio dusk deepened and the shad
ows began to darken mysteriously over
the great echoing inius of the old court,
Mi s Ripley rose aud began paciug up
and down Ihu corridors, wringing her
bauds and moaning, like a restless
ghost, until at last she paused in the
\'iiy Spot where Will Graham had stood
..early a yeft)? ago, when he bado ber
farewell—a spot where the ‘ reflection of
the faint starlight through the stained
glass casemeuis threw a quivering crim
son cross ou the waxed walnut floor.
"Oh, my love, my darling!” she wailed
aloud, looking wildly up into the serene
heavens, “car, you hear me from the
oild of dreams and shadows ? Can you
■ sten to the pulses of my breaking
keait ?”
And as she melt there, all alone with
her great sorrow, she could hear the ser
vimts talking 4 the room
mg idly, as servants will talk.
SUMMERVILLE. GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 12, 1883.
“Put up plenty of berries over the
door, Simon,” said Emma’s chirping,
birdlike voice. “If Misti Luly don’t
want ’em, we’ll have it look like Merry
Christmas down hero, see if we don’t !”
“And don’t blio want not a single
thing?” Simon demanded. “Why, we
couldn’t fasten up enough greens for her
years back. What’s tho reason of her
changin’ 1 f her mind ?"
“I don't know,” said little Emma,
making a great rustling among the heaps
of crisp evergreens. “ Pine ladies does
take such queer notions sometimes. Oh,
Simon, I wish 1 was as rich as Miss
Lulu 1”
“Wishes is cheap,” said Simon, his
voice proceeding from tlio height of a
step-ladder, and sounding curiously
muffled, as if his mouth was full of
nails. ‘ ‘ Ever hetu-d the old proverb :
‘lf wishes were horses beggars would
ride ?' ”
“ Never rniud your proverbs,” retorted
Emma. “There, you’ve got that gar
land all orookod ! But I wish I was
rich, all the same.”
“ What would you do with your
money ?” questioned Simon.
“Such lots of things," said Emma.
“You heard about—Bank failing last
week, didn’t von ?”
“I heird it,” said Simon, between
the clicks of liis hammer. “Old Man-able,
our neighbor, had live hundred dollars
in it to pay oft the mortgage on his
house,” went 011 Emma. “ He'll lose it
all now, and Widow Portage had saved
up forty dollars—n dollar at a time—to
buy a sewing machine. She put it in—
Bank for safe keeping, and now it isn’t
likoiy she’ll ever have a sewing-machine.
Then there arc tho live little Ohipleys,
who can't go to the Christmas tree or
church, because they liavo no shoes,
poor lambs ! And lame little Billy
Powers is so sure that Santa Clans will
bring him a wheeled chair, because ho
lias prayed for it every night for a
month. Mrs. Powers cried when she
told me of it, for she says as how it’ll be
such a disappointment. Wheeled chairs
cost twenty dollars, and poor Mrs.
Powers hasn’t twenty cents ahead in the
world. And old Miles Stimpson and his
wife, as is going to tho poor-house next
week, will have to keep their lost Christ
mas without so much as a peel; of coal
or a bit of butcher’s meat. Oh, dear !
what lots of trouble there is in Ibis
world !” And Emma drew a long sigh.
“ f know that,” said Simon, gruffly.
" Hand me up some more of them cedar
houghs. We can’t help it—can we?”
“No, of course not,” said Emma, sor
rowfully. “But if I was as rich as Miss
Lulu, I could find such lots of ways to
spend money. That’s what I mean,
Snnon.”
“ ‘lf I'iohes were horses beggars would
ride,' " chanted Simon, in a high, monot
onous sing-song. “Ain’t that about
enough greens for this room?”
Lulu Ripley had listened to tlio con
versation, mechanically at first, but with
gathering interest as little Emma cliat
lered on. Anew light hail dashed across
the brooding darkness of her brain.
“I nm wretched myself,” she thought,
“but that is no reason why I should not
help to heal tlio sorrows of others. God
helping me, this shall he a merry Christ
mas to someone in tiiis world !”
She wont back to her room and rang
the boll.
“Emma!” said she, gently,
“Miss !” said Emma, guiltily, feeling
of her head, which was powdered over
with loose sprigs of cedar and stray
holly-berries.
“I have changed my mind. You may
go home to your mother for Christmas
Day, if you wish.”
“Thank 'eo, miss, kindly! " snid Emma,
brightening up at once. And she ran
breathlessly down stairs, lo trumpet
forth her delight to the assembled house
hold of the kitchen.
* * * * * * *
Golden and glorious tho sun of the
blessed Christmas morning rose up from
behind the snow-glistening hills. From
a thonsand church-spires the clang of
rejoicing bells greeted it, from a million
holly-garlanded homes tho voices of little
children bado it welcome—the sacred
httle ones whom Christ Himself holds
ever dear in His heart, ns He held the
babes of Bethlehem in nis arms, eight
een centuries ago !
Tlie Widow Portage had been aroused
unwontedly early by the joyful cries of the
three blue-nosed little Portages, who
were as well pleased with their penny
wooden toys, home-made cakes aud one
tipple apiece as if they had fallen heirs
to a whole ship load of automatic French
marvels.
As she unbarred tlie door, to get a pail
of water to set tlie kettle boiling, she
1 tarted back.
“Good land o’ Goshen !” cried Mrs.
Portage, who was rather given to old
fashioned expletives; “what's this ?” It
was a big pine packing-box, ou the very
threshold of her door—a huge, inex
plicable mammoth of a thing, labeled :
“One Hewing Machine,
“From the Factory oi Messrs, D—and P ,
“For Mrs. Malina Portage,
“Christinas, 1878.
“It ain’t true,” feebly cried Widow
i’ortage, holding on to the door-handle
for support. “I'm a-dreaming yet. A
sewin’ machine ! For me ? Some of |
you pinch me, children, to make sure I
am awake.”
Mrs, P. had settled this problem to
her entire satisfaction, when old Mur- 1
rabiu euute hobbling across tho tOful,
waving something over ids head. i
“Look a-here, Miss Portage !” bawled
he, in the high treble of age. “It’s
Santa Claus, as true us you live! We
ore all children ag’in, an' the old chap
with tlio fur cap nu* tho team of rein
deers is around at his old tricks ! A
iive-liuudred-dollar bill, sealed up iu a
yaller envelope, ami poked under my
door, iu the dead o’ night, an’ tin pickin’
It up for waste-paper ! It’s the Lord’s
own mercy ns I didn’t burn it up, to set
Iht- kindlin’s a-goiu’, afore I seed wlmt it
•was ! Labeled ‘John Mart-able. Eso.. to
pay off the mortgage. Christmas,
1878.”’
“Well, I never !” said tho Widow Por
tage. “Jest look what I’ve got.”
John Mart-able put on his spectacles
and stared harder than ever.
“Woll, now!” quoth he, “I am heat.
I must go right homo and see what the
old woman Inis got to say to that.”
Little lame Billy Powers, waking up
to the chill consciousness that it was
Christmas morning, and that ho had but
a scanty allowance of bed-clot I tea, sat up
and rubbed his eyes before lie quite
realized the fact that Lis mother was
-calling him.
“Billy! Billy; I say! Make haste
down aud sec what Santa Claus has sent
you. God bless him ! You’re very rich,
joy son—you’re very rich !”
And fiying headlong down stairs, iu
his tattered night-gown, as fast os his
poor crooked limbs would allow him,
Billy Powers behold a cosy wheeled
chair of black walnut, trimmed with
crimson plush, with a side apparatus,
whereby he might convey himself from
place to place at his own will. No more
aching hones —no more painful limping
along tho dusty road—no more lagging
behind the other children.
Billy laughed aloud in the plenitude
of his delight, while Mrs. Powers, seated
on a broken splint-bottomed rocker,
cried almost equally loud.
“I don’t know who there is iu all this
wide world," Bobbed Mrs. Powers, “to
think of me and you, Billy. But who
• vev it is, I hope the good Lord will re
turn it onto their bosom, heaped up and
r.tuuiug over.”
When Moses Chipley, the eldest of
the family of four who were detained at
home in a state of involuntary blockade)
011 account of the unsettled bill at the
shoemaker’s opened the door to obtain
it satisfactory snowball wherewith to
anoint tlio faces of his four sleeping
brothers mid sisters, ho bounded back
again like a magnified Juck-in-it box.
“Mother,” gasped Moses, “there’s
Biitliiii’ there—a basket! And I’m
mortal sure 1 seen a tin steam engine
anda doll’s legs a-sticking out ov it !"
“Oh, get out, I” cried the incredulous
Mrs. Chipley. “Doll’s legs and steam
engines, indeed 1”
By this time, tho namesake of tho
great rtfler of Israel had made a second
sortio, mid, bringing m a gigantio
basket, emptied it on tho kitoheu floor.
“Five pairs o’ shoes!” bawled Mrs.
C., heedless of the herrings that were
scorching over the ti iv.
“A doll!” shrieked little Jemima.
“Hooray! Skates 1” yelled Moses.
“Picture-books!” ohimed in the twins.
“A tin ingin and a train of tin cars !”
cried little Joe, the youngest, and chub
biest, and dirtiest of all.
“And flannen and oaliker enough for
all creation !” said Mrs. C., in delighted
amazement. “Lord save us ! it’s like
the miracle the parson rends about
Wherever could they have come from ?"
Old Miles Stimpson lay late in liis bed
that morning. Not that it was liis usual
wont, hut old Miles had been distanced
in tlie race of life, and somehow got dis
couraged of late.
“Where’s the use of gettin’up,” said
Miles, dolefully, “with never a spark of
tiro to warm me, oml nothing in the way
of good cheer to keep Christmas with?”
But his old wifo could not so readily
overcome the habit of years.
“There’s the last o’ them chairs father
gave me when we went to housekeepiu’,"
said she, ‘lt’s all broken and worn,
and it’ll serve as well as anything else to
mn.se a little hlaza to warm our old
hones. I kiinl o’ kept it for tho sake of
old times; but if we'ro goin’ to end out
days in (ho ‘House,’it won’t do us no
good there. And p’rhaps there’ll boa
knotty log iu tlie wood-shed to help it
along.”
But presently Mrs. Stimpson came
trotting back witli wide-open eyes aud
toothless mouth to correspond.
“Get up, father—get up!” cried she.
“Something’s happened !”
“It ain’t the house afire, is it ?”
croaked Miles, from under the bed
clothes ; "’cause that wouldn't bo so un
comfortable on such a day as this!”
“There’s a ton o’ coal in tho wood
house !” oried Mrs. S. ; “ and a load o’
kiudlin'-wood, and a turkey bangin’ up,
and a basket o’ potatoes, and a peck o' I
cranberries, and tea, and sugar, and— ’’
“ Old woman, you’re crazy !” said
Miles sitting up in bed.
"Come aud look for yourself 1” said
Mrs. 8.
“Who sent ’em?” demanded breath
less Miles.
“The Lord knows!” piously respond
ed his ancient helpmate. “Oh, husband,
we can keep out of the poor-house for
another month at least!’’
And Mrs. 8. wiped the tears of glad,
ness from her poor, rheumy old eyes--
eyea that had been dark anti brilliant
once as Lulu Ripley’s own.
* * ♦ * * *
The ruddy firelight was penciling itH
shifting arabosquea upon tlio drawing
room walls, where Lulu’s own tremu
lous hand had hung up a tiny cross of
ivy and hemlock twined together, and
upon the table lay the materials of her
illuminating work—a half-completed
text :
“Though Ho slay me, yet will I trust iu Him.”
Thus she sat musing, until the unex
pected apparition of Emma—round
eyed, and rosy with her long walk—dis
turbed her.
“I’m sure, miss, I beg pardon for
cornin’ iu without the boll bein’ rung for
me!” fluttered she; ‘‘but there lias
been such doin’s down in the village!
Please miss, it can’t ho miracles, nor yet
it Can’t lie Hunts Claus —but what is it ?"
Lulu smiled quietly to herself.
“ Tell me what it is, Emma, ” she said,
“and then I shall he abetter judge.”
And Emma told tho story of tho glad
hearts everywhere—and of the good
gifts that had come to the widow, and
the fatherless, and those that, were ready
to perish.
“Emma,” said Lulu, kindly, “listen
to me. It was 1 that sent those things.”
“ You. miss?”
“ Yes, f. I heard you, a week ago,
tclliug Simon about all those poor peo
ple, and I made up my mind that, out
of my abundance, I could spare some
thing to them,”
" God bless you, miss !” faltered
Emma. “And I only wish you could
see how glad and happy they all are 1"
And Emma tripped away, to answer a
peal at tho hall bell, while Lulu, who
lived as secluded a life as a nun, aud
neither saw nor expeoted visitors, sat
looking druamily into the lire.
“Lulu r
She started with a wild cry, half joy,
half incredulity, and there, standing on
the threshold of the door, she beheld
Will Graham— Will Graham, alive and
in tho flesh.
Ho oamo forward witli glad, sparkling
eves aud outstretched hands.
“Perhaps I should not have beeu so
abrupt, my darling,” lie said, “but 1
could not help it. I hungered aud thirsted
so to see you again. Oh, how I have
prayed and longed that I might rencli
here by Christmas Day !”
Aud 110 told her how 110 had lain foi
dead upon the cruel rocks; how a kind
wrecker had detected some faint signs
ol life and carried him to shelter; how
months of brain fever had enfeebled
him, until the flume on life’s altar hud
burned fuint and dim, like a flickering
spark; of liis convalescence and home
ward journey.
“My own precious one,” he murmured,
"God lias given us hack to each other,
even from the very gates of death ! lion
shall wo ever thunk Him for the great
happiness of this Christinas Day?’
And Lulu Ripley know that God hud in
deed heard her prayers, and answered
them through the sunset glory of the
Christmas evening. And of all who re
joined over their Christmas gifts tlml
and iy she was the happiest.
Why Georgians Won’t Steal.
I have been living in Georgia seven
years and have never had but one visit,
from a beggar. I have never looked my
frontdoor at night. My family some
times go from homeona visit toa neigh
bor and stay all day and leave the house
unlocked, and nothing lias ever been
stolen that, we know of. My stable and
corn-crib is never locked. No lionester
people never lived than live around ns.
My opinion is that our people are most
too lazy to steal and wouldn’t go after
corn unless it was shucked and shelled
and sacked. I believe that if I was to
put a bag full of nice corn out at my
front gate some fellow would take it and
carry it off; but they won’t go to the
crib after it. I t is 100 much trouble.
Bayard Taylor tells of a canton in Switz
erland where a merchant marks the
price of bis goods and goes off to his
iitlle farm and leaves the store open,
and when a man wauls anything he goes
into the store and measures it or weighs
it and puts the money in the drawer.
That is a good way and saves clerk hire,
but 1 wouldn’t advise our merchants to
make Uio experiment for fear of acci
dents. The books might not exactly
balance when ho took account of stock.
—Bnx A iu\
Story of a Tame Fox.
In a number of the Newcastle obur
ctnf, toward the end of the last century,
there is a curious story of a tame fox
which had been brought up from a cub
at the White Hart Inn at Bridgwater,
where he had been trained to officiate as
a turnspit. The wild strain breaking
out, he one day escaped, got away to
Sedgmoor, and made sail havoc among
a flock of geese. A pack of hounds
chancing to ho out, found him in covert,
and the fox, breaking, led them a Jong
and devious chase, but always making
for the direction of his old home. Ho
linally leaped the fence of his mistress’s
garden, and, entering the kitchen,
darted to the spit and began to perform
bis office quite unconcernedly. The
cook, with whom he was a great fa
vorite, hid him with her petticoats, at
the same time beating off the hounds,
llut this, we are told, ‘ ‘would have been
unavailing if the huntsmen had not
whipped them off, and, after a chase of
nearly thirty miles, left this unlicensed
poulterer to his domestic occupations,”
NU 17.
ADMIRAL PORTER’S HE FORT.
lie liiin No 111 ethi 11 lo him About Om- l(o
ten Old Niivy mid the New ( riiUm,
Admiral Porter, tho Admiral of the
navy, in his annual report criticises the
proposed new cruisers in some resis'ets.
He says:
"111 case of our having a war with any
foreign power, all the coaling stations ol
tho world would bo closed against us.
Hence the necessity that we should build
vessels having full suil and steam power,
so Unit (lioy could make good speed
cruising under sail with fires banked,
ready at a moment’s notice to get up
steam.”
He Nays the Chicago, for example,
would not movetbiougli (lie water under
the small amount of canvas she will he
able to spread, except in a very fresh
breeze. There is no reason why a cruis
ing ship-of-war should not he of full
power in sails and masts.
Ho adds; “I um not an advocate for
extremes, but I am certain that no ship
will be a first-class cruiser unless Hhe
has sail enough to send her thirteen
knots through tho water off t lie wind
mid ton nots by tho wind.”
He says we should build a class ol
swift vessels like the Oregon mid Alaska,
The report continues:
“I don't see any reason why Congress
should not appropriate liberally for an
immediate increase of the navy, ns it
did iu tho time of I lie late civil war.
We tire now, in fact, in ns bad a condi
tion ns wo were at the breaking out ol
that conflict, though then we could con
form to the luw of nations, liy buying up
every old ferryboat and rattletrap that
could mount a gun, and using them to
blockade the Southern ports. If Spain,
the least formidable of maritime na
tions, went to war with us to-morrow
blio would sweep our gradually increas
ing commerce from the ocean liy setting
alloat the large, swift steamers she
could buy in Europe, aud wo could not
prevent it. Onr vaunted home squad
ron, and the six tugs which one of our
statesmen declared a great auxiliary to
our naval force, would retire under
Sandy Hook or tlie friendly guns of
Fortress Monroe, mid he obliged to
look quietly on while wo were being de
spoiled, unless they chose to add to the
laurels of the despoiler by offering t hem
selves upas a sacrifice, In the end we
would no doubt get the better c f our an
tagonist, but would that satisfy the
country for a commerce destroyed or re
pay our people for ravaged coasts mid
burned cities ? For with nil the new
appliances for destroying human life
and property, the horrors of war are
likely to he greater than anything we
Lave ever imagined. IVilli (lie private
workshops wo have in this country we
could build twenty largo ships in two
years. How much better it would be
for ns logo to work and build 11 set of
vessels for tho immediate wants of the
navy.
“There iH not 0110 of onr ports that lms
any defence against even an enemy of
very inferior character. There is not a
iiarlior in the country where an ordi
nary ironclad cannot pass the batteries,
choosing their own time for so doing,
Hoitapnears Hint bur army defences are
in the sumo category as those of our
navy. It is, therefore, indispensable
that both should forthwith take anew
departure to insure that effectual pro
tection to our countrymen which they
have a right to demand.”
Komnnlfc Story of a Cemetery.
The Baltimore Green Mountain Cem
etery has a most romantic history.
Fifty years ago it was the hn]>j>y home
of the Oliver family, which consisted of
the father and two children, son and
daughter. The daughter, who was a
beautiful girl, had many suitors, but to
all did she say nay, save oue, a poor
young man, of whom her father disap
proved, and whom he had forbidden her
to seo. He had also taken an oath that
if he caught the young man on the
grounds ho would shoot him. But true
love not only laughs at bolts and bars,
but at shot guns as well. One evening
the young lady, having agreed to meet
her lover at the foot of the lane, donned
a suit of her brother's clothes, honing
thereby to escape detection, and sallied
forth. Her keen-eved father caught
sight of her as she marched boldly along,
and, thinking be recognized in the tres
passer the young man who hod been for
bidden the grounds, raised his gmi and
fired. The feminine shriek which
pierced the air revealed to him what he
had done. His daughter was dead Ire
fore ho reached her Hido, and from that
day the father became a wanderer on
the face of earth. He took his son and
went abroad, leaving bis property in the
hands of an agent, with orders to sell
the homestead for a cemetery. In a
short time the city purchased all the
grounds, and the body of the murdered
girl was the first oue to bo buried
there.
Tije Pinchbeck family, of Austin, is
considered oue of the meanest, stingiest,
and clobo fisted of any iu Texas. One
night anew baby made its expeoted ap
pearance in the Pinchbeck family, and
when Johnny Fizzle top hoard the news,
he said: “Golly ! won’t that baby besui -
prised when it coined to find out wlial
kind of a stingy crowd he has got iu
amongst \"—SifUny,
LADIES AND POKER.
POKKIi TO UR TIIK (UftlE OP THK
FI’TLIUi.
Wlmt n ( lilcngo <nmllcr Think* ol tlio
l*o|>iilnrlly ol' tlio Gutito.
[From (lie Chicago Herald.]
“Are tliero many lady players bore?”
“Immense numbers of them. They
got stuck on the game worse than men.
Why, I’ve known respectable ladies to
pawn their jewelry—even their wedding
rings—for money with which to set in
the game,”
“Do ladies play well?”
“They generally play ahold game, and
bluff more than men. The host players
I've over met Iu society games have been
ladies. Many ladies give little parties
regularly, where poker is the order of
the evening. And many of them make
money at it. I’ve several limes been
■downed' in a game by Indies.”
“How do people learn to play ?”
“ They commence by playing for but
tons, I lieu freeze out for ieo cream, or
some other trilling treat, then penny
ante for keeps, and finally drift into a
game only bounded by their moans, and
sometimes without that limitation.
Young men who learn to play at home
and in the houses of friends soon tire of
a small game and visit tho poker rooms,
of wliicli there are literally hundreds in
the city. From those to the larger gam
bling lietisos is but a step, aud iu a major
ity of eafips their ruin is complete. Many
a defaulting clerk dates his downfall
from tho night wlion he first opeuod the
festive ‘jackpot’ for the limit—five oeuts
—and many a woman lias been driven,
or rather drawn, to the bad through the
seductions of that game where ‘it’s all in
tile draw.’ ”
%■ “Is the interest in tho game on the in
eiease?”
‘ffes; decidedly. Twenty-five years
ago poker playing was a rarity in the
North. Now it pervades all classes of
society. 11 lias demoralized the army.
Secretary Lincoln is trying to suppress
it, hut with poor success. With pork
anil beans it divides the American claim
to originality. A native of the South,
it lias gradually spread, until it is now
played in every town and hamlet in tho
land. It has been introduced abroad.”
“To what do you attribute its popu
larity ?”
“To a variety of causes. It is a sim
ple game with few rules, and hence
easily learned, but its peculiar fascina
tion lies, I think, in the happy combi
nation of chance and skill; in the cir
cumstance that it is not n silent game,
like whist, but admits of conversation
and dialling; in tho great inducements
it offers to a study of character, and
move particularly that one may some
times by a skilful] bluff win with a much
smaller hand than is held by his an
tagonist.”
A City on Wheels,
I arrived at Barlett, D. TANARUS., about tlio
middle of tlie afternoon of a lieantiful
day, says a newspiqier correspondent.
I found some stir and aetivity among
the people of the city, hut it seemed to
he the excitement incident to the emi
gration of a city on wheels. The peojdo
generally had abandoned all hope of ilie
city, and moved their houses bodily to
Devil’s Lake and other places. The
houses were first lifted on to large tim
bers of sufficient size aud strength to
bear the weight of the house. These
timbers were then suspended under two
monstrous freight wagons on either side
of the building; four largo horses or
oxen were then bitched lo the wagon
ou each side, and, Hie road to Devil’s
Luke being across a smooth prairie, the
teams were able to move along easily
with a fair-sized building.
Home of them,with the teams attached,
presented to my mind sights most mag
nificent. It was the first time that I had
ever seen 11 city moving on wheels. I
had seen people moving on it large seale
iu their so-called “prairie-schooners,’’
but tlio sight was tame compared with
this. I thought of a remark I once
heard to the effect that “the approach
of a train of ears drawn by a powerful
engine was it magnificent sight to be
hold,” and I thought to myself a road
lined with two-story houses, moving to
the music of the steady tread of teams
of eight powerful oxen, was a sight
equally magnificent. Aud such was the
ate of the once proud city of Bartlett.
Rejected. —The citizens of Oshkosh,
Wis., subscribed #I ,OOO and gave it t
the manager of the Northwestern Fair i
consideration of their rejecting an ofl'e
of 91,000 from a wheel of fortune mai
lo be allowed to run his wheel on th
fair grounds.
Nerve-Life and j/igor
- HHBTOHHD,-
t~< This cut show* the
E3 Howard Electric
*H| Magnetic Shield
a8 applied over the Kid
_q f Mr iteysanil Nervo-vlial
jM centers. Tno only ap-
Dllance made that
A r ills every part of
r the body, nnd tlie
a wa* 1 only one needed tc
K \ . 1 M \ 1 POSITIVELY CURB
I **• JEL I Kidney Disease
R -up J It lieuiiiatisni,
1 OF ■ FIE I Dyspepsia
lAfs __ the worst catjes ol
ID Dl" Aif SI Seminal Weak
>]PQUl||V*j| ness, Gxhaus
(lon, linpoten
IRSSw E’mESj&st
. If U i nessoftheUrino
1 w (.cnltttl Organs
l Patented Feb. 25, 1879. j m
YOUNG WEN, from eurly indiscretion, lack
nerve force and fall to attain strength.
MIDDLE-AGEI) MEN often lack vigor, attribut
ing it to the progress of years.
The MOTHER, WIFE and MAID, suffering from
Female Weakness, Nervous Debility and other ail
ments, will find it the only cure.
To one and all we *uy that the Shield give* * net
urul aid in a natural way _
WITHOUT DRUGGING THE STOMACH.
Warranted One Year, and llio be
appliance made.
Illustrated Pamphlet. THREE TYPES OF MEN,
also Pamphlet for Ladies only, sent ou receipt ox
Cc, sealed; unsealed, FREE.
American Galvanic Cos. t
OFFICES!t\ B s^M^r