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PUBLISHED EVEBY THURSO A
—Al* -'■ • - .• ;
BBULIZTOTT, G>Jk.
BY JOHN BLATS.
Terms— $i.ou per uiium SO cent* for si*
•oniii*; 26 cents forlhree month*.
Parties nw«y trom Beiiton me requested
to send tueir name* with such amount* of
money •> they cen pare, '»otn lie. ‘o <1
SOMEONE.
BT EMMA CLABk WMJIT.
Tht <e i*A»melblng I do not tmdersUnA— [ '!
Tie ute’n* to dlwwnble-
Wh J’ «t the touch of someone’« hand
My fingers glow mid tremble 1
Though there’s nothing to appal
In tomamt'a bonny eyes.
Why should they make mine shyly fall.
Tie something to surprise.
When someone’s footsteps follow mine,
1 wonder falter;
Ti* something I cannot hero define—
Something I would not alter.
Someone’s voice I would follow through
Death's waters, dart and cold,
Nor heed their chill or somber hue,
For love would make me bold.
And for the sake of someone there,
Heaven will brighter be,
And sweeter smiles wiU angels wear
When someone smiles on oia.
RHEUMATICS.
BY J. L. HERSEY.
Uncle Ben in his younger days had
the rheumatic orful. Poor soul! it’s a
wonder how he lived through it all.
You see, when Ben was young he was an
orful critter to skate. He’d skate for
ever and the day afterwards. He sed
he loved the fun, but his father sed it
was only to git red of choppin’ wood and
doin’ the chores round the house. Ben’s
folks were a lazy pack, and liked to be
off half the time. But Ben was a ti-im
mer on skates, and was off most every
night when there was a moon. One or
ful cold night when the oronometer was
clean away down below nero he went off
on tire river, and when it come 9 o’clock
his folks begun to look for him back.
He did not come. The clock struck
10 then 11, and no Ben.
Ben’s father got a little skittish, and
put on his Long-tailed blue surtout, and
tied up his ears in a hankerchef and
started off arter him. When he got to
the river he hallooed for Ben, and Ben’s
voice come back rather faint in reply.
The old gent made for the place where
the voice sounded, and there was Ben
with all his lower parts in water, and
his head and shoulders sticking up
through the solid ice ! Ye see, the .ice
had broke through and set him in, and
afore he could git out had closed up
around him and froze him in fast. You
need not say it is not a fact, for we had
some orful cold weather down here in
Maine thirty years ago.
Wall, Ben’s father cum along and took
him by the arms and tried to hoist him
out, but, la! he might have as well
tried to stir old Ossiper mountain
from its resting-place. Ben wouldn’t
start. The old gent got mad and swore
a pint of the biggest kind of oaths ; and
then he give it up and sot down.
Ben was as patient as Job, and waited
as kind as could be till his father had
got breath.
“ Take off your stout, father,” scz he,
“and try agin.”
His father riz right up and pulled and
hauled away on his coat till the inspira
tion run a stream down his forrud. After
an orful spell of it he got the thing off,
and then he ontied his ears and went for
him in ernest.
Arter about half an hour’s hal’d pullin’
Ben’s feet touched solid earth, and his
father took his surtout under one arm
and Ben under the other and started for
home.
• As soon as they got there Ben was put
into a hot bath and stuffed full of hot
drops and kian pepper. The next morn
ing he was as well as could be expected,
except his right hip, which pained him
terribly.
They sent for the doctor and he an
alyzed him, and said it was a case of
rheumatic, and would plague Ben an
long as he lived by spells.
Wall, Ben got lietter, and tim«
wheeled away just the same as usual
and Ben got to be 20 years of age.
Then he bought him a watch, and
thought he’d go sparkin’ the gals just
the same as other fellows did.
His mother is a mighty keerful crit
ter and thought he was a little too
young, but his father said to let him go
and git satisfied.
So, airly one morning, Ben went over
to Mr. Johnson’s to see Hitty Bead,
their hired girl. Hitty was a fust-rate,
good, smart body, and Ben’s father
thought it would be a nice match for
his son.
Wall, Hitty was werry sociable to her
beau, and give him the big arm-chair to
sit in (Johnson’s folks had gone away),
the reddest apples to eat and told him
all aliout their speckled hen’s hatching
out seventeen chickens the day afore.
But he didn’t want to be out-lied, so
he made up a story about one of their
turkeys tliat sat on twenty-one eggs and
hatched out twenty-four turkeys.
He said he expected three of the eggs
had two yelks in them.
She said like enuff. and then he sed
The North/ Georgian.
’'voi’.’iii'. ■’
he guessed he must be going, and she
asked him to call again soon.
“Thank you,” said Ben, blushing
clean back behind his ears, “1 shall
drop in often.”
And he did drop in often; so often
that Johnson’s folks began to smell a
rat, and used to have a fire in the best
room when the evenings were chilly.
Wall, the matter of four months
slipped away, and Ben thought he’d
staid with Hitty long enough to pop the
question. He consulted his father
about it and the old gent thought he
might as well ask her and be done
with it
So one Sunday night Ben fixed up in
his best rig and went over to Johnson’s.
It was a little rainy that evening and the
dampness went right into Ben’s hip,
but he thought of Hitty and didn’t
mind it.
Hitty met him at the door and 'peered
powerful glad to see him. Ben got a
little bolder when he seen how smiling
she looked, and he jist slapped one arm
around her neck and rumpled up her
muslin collar so it looked like a dish
cloth, and give her a little mite of a
smack. She blushed and told him to
go way with his nonsense and tell her
the news.
Ben was determined to tell the hull
story of his faction as soon os posibble.
So, soon arter she’d invited him into
the fore room and got him comfortable
in the corner, he took out his watch and
sed that it was jist 7 o’clock.
“Afore 8,” sez he to himself, “ I’ll hev
it all decided.”
* ‘ Hitty, ” sez he, putting back the watch
into his pocket, ‘ ‘do youlove spruce gum?”
“Wall, yes,” sez she, “pretty well; only
it’s apt to make my teeth ache.” Ben put
his hand in his pocket, and pulled out
something wrapped np in blue paper.
“ Here, Hitty, is a whopping big piece,”
sez he, “ and when you git it all chawed
up, let me know and I’ll bring you some
more—our woods is full of it. ” “ Thank
you, Ben,” sez Hitty, opening the paper,
and biting off a piece ; “it is first rate,
ain’t' it? ,r
“Yes,” sez Ben, gapin; “I think so,”
and then there was a long silence. * ‘Hitty, ”
sez Ben, all of a sudden, rolling his eyes
up to the plasterin. “Wall, Ben,” sez
she, looking up to see if Ben had discov
ered any cobwebs.
“Hitty, Hove youbetter’n all the airth;
better than skating, better that our
forty-acre timber lot 1 O ! ugh—blast
it—ugh ! Tarnation take it! It’s enough
to make Belezcbnb cry for massy 1 ” And
Ben went dancing round the room, like
a wild critter.
Hitty stood still in the middle of the
room, with her blue eyes statin eanamost
out of her head. Ye see she, despised
any one who swore, and wouldn’t have
kept company with a swearin man for
the world. And Ben would swear at
times jist to git the wind off of his
stomach, he said. You see how it was.
Jist as he’d got in the middle of his luv
story, a terrible pain seized him in his
hip, and he stopped his luv telling, and
went to swearing. Hitty wouldn’t hear
any of his explanations, but told him he
needn’t cum to visit her any more, and
she give him back the spruce gum,
paper and all.
Ben tried hard to make her under
stand that it was Iris rheumatiz that
swore, not him ; but she only pinted to
the door, and told him make himself
skerce.
Poor Ben offord her his watch if she’d
let liirn stay, but she profused him de
cidedly, and he took up his hat and went
off a cussing and raving like all natur.
Uncle Ben’s an old bachelor to this
day, all, as he sez, on account of his
rheumatiz. He has to go with a cane
now, and wear a mustard-seed poultice
on his back every dull, rainy spell, and
it mixes up in all his worldly affairs.
Once he sot out to jine the’chnrch, and
live a different life, and got all ready to
be baptised, and the minister had got
his coat off and was in the river wading
round to find the best place to dip him
in, and the people was all gathered
alongside of the river singing
that tine old hymn, “Down
in Old Joydan’s Cooling Flood I ”
The minister found the right spot, stuck
up his cane there to mark the spot, and
come out and took Ben by the hand and
began to wade in, and had got about
half way the distance to the cane, when
poor Ben’s liip began aching as though
needles was flying through it. And he
fell to dancing and swearing like a river
pirate. The minister was terribly
shocked, and waded out of the water as
speedily as possible, put on his coat, and
slid oft home, muttering “Oh, what de
pravity 1 what is the world coming to?”
Ben got out of the water the best way
BELLTON, BANKS COUNTY, GA. SEPTEMBER 30, 1880.
he could. The people that had come
from miles round to see the dipping
went off feeling disappointed. Yet they
had something to talk and laugh over for
weeks after.
Ben never would git ready agin ; the
rheumatiz in his hip has been his pun
idfeknent in this life, but he hopes it will i
not mar his future life.
Now,-if you go to Ben’s home on the '
roling Kenebec, down in the Pine Tree
State, you’ll git the hull story of his
rheumatiz, and the mediceens he’s tried,
and thelinaments he’s rubbed in,enough
to fill a big newspaper heapin’ full.
Everything Xm airth, all the patent
things that anybody heerdof, from vine
gar and salt up to Higgin’s ile of brick
pig seed has gone into that hip of his
Uncle Ben says if it hadn’t been for
the rheumatiz he might have been mar
ried, and raised up a family of children
to handed down his name to pomposity.
“Then I might have joined the church
and been shore of going to heaven, but
the fates are against me. But I hope
when the great incoming day comes the
Judge will put down all my sins to rheu
matiz. If He does, I shall git a free
ticket to the new Jerusalem, and sing
and shout as hard as any of them, if
the rheumatiz don’t follow me.”—(%*■■
cago Ledger.
KHAT SHALL THE BOYS DOt
The very basis of the healthful prog
ress of any nation or country is the
practice of some mechanical industry by
the majority of the men. A certain pro
portion may earn a living in commer
cial pursuits or in the professions, and
some may procure a living as saloon- I
keepers, bar-tenders, loafers and tramps. :
But very few can be supported in idle- |
ncss or in vice without laying a weary
burden upon tfie industrious classes. Os 1
late years a serious social danger is
threatened by the action of the various
trades' unions in refusing to admit boys i
into shops as apprentices. Borne years
ago there was a class of apprentices in
every large shop or factory, and in time
these boys became skillfnJ workmen
Now the supply of such artisans is cut
off at the very source, and the conse
quence must be—and is, for we are all
discovering it in the most palpable man
ner—inferior materials and workman
ship in nearly every tool and machine
that is purchased. “The farmer pays
for all,” not only for inferior work o‘
untrained artisans, but for the support
of idle boys and the vicious, dangerour
men that idle youths must invariably
become in time.
Fortunately there is one industry intc
which every boy will be welcomed.
There is scarcely a farmer in the land
who is not prepared and ready, nay,
eager, to accept the services of an ap
prentice for such a remuneration as Iris
labor may deserve. Board, clothes and
a little spending money he is ready to
give, and, in addition, to teach him the
practice of his art, which is certainly as
intricate as sawing wood or hammering
iron. There are no trades unions on
the farm. The farms will receive all the
boys that workshops refuse, and the j
boys will have no cause in the end t< I
regret the ill-nature and selfishness tha' j
drove them there. — Hural New Yorker
■ ♦ «
THE UPAS TREE.
Many a fine simile has been destroyed
by the discoveries made of late years
concerning the upas of Java. It was
spoken of as growing ten or twelve miles
away from any other plant. Criminals
condemned to die were given the choice
of suffering the penalty or gathering
some of the poison from the tree, and
only about two in twenty survived the
expedition. Os the land where the tree
grew it was said, “There are no fish in
the waters, nor has any rat, mouse or
other vermin been seen there, and when
any birds fly so near this tree that the
effluvia reach them, they fall victims to
this poison. Also, in less than two
months only 300 persons remained out
of 1,600 who were compelled to live
within a few miles of this tree. ”
The tree is bad enough, but less of a
criminal than writers would have us be
lieve. It is a variety of spurge (A nfiaris ,
toxicaria), which, when wounded, ex
udes a poisonous milky juice. It grows
in company with other trees, without
harming them, and has been cultivated
in botanic gardens. Birds and lizards
have often been seen to perch upon its
branches. The juice is very irritating,
and produces a kind of paralysis if intro
duced into the system. When mixed !
with certain other poisons it forms the I
upas, which in Malay language signifies !
poison, or, specifically, arrow poison. |
Strange to say, this poisonous plant lie- '
longs to the same family as the famous ;
bread-fruit tree, which furnishes such
excellent food for man, 1
JACKSONS VOW.
Old Hickory and the Bank Cashier*
Shortly after the occupation of Pensa
cola and the expulsion of the Spanish
authorities from Florida, by Gen. Jack
son, Mr. Edward Palfrey, an old citizen
A New Orleans, now dead, was wont to
’elate that, while standing behind the
counter of the National Bank, his atten
tion was attracted to a group of military
officers who entered the bank and in
quired for tha cashier. The chief of the
•jiarly was a man, gaunt, stern-featured,
’Cpare and wasted of form, but erect and
firm of carriage.
The cashier having appeared, the
chief introduced himself: “I am An
drew Jackson, Major General of the
United States army, commanding the
forces now occupying Pensacola. My
soldiers are suffering greatly for the
want of provisions, clothing and medi
cines. Immediate relief is required, and
kaiusthave $20,000t0 purchase them sup
ines. Here is my draft on the Govern
ment. I desire to have it cashed.”
The cashier was appalled by thia de
mand. There was no authority to honor
this check. The courteous but firm
manner *d the prestige of the chieftan,
however, restrained any such intimation
from the cashier. Requesting the Gen
eral and his staff to be seated, he retired
to the rear office of the President, and
communicated the appalling demand of
tte conqueror of Florida. The Presi
dent was equally alarmed and dispatched
a messenger to convoke the directory.
They quickly assembled, and the sub
ject was referred to them.
It should be borne in mind that at
that time Gen. Jackson was regarded
with a great deal of bitterness and dis
tiust by a large political party in the
country. He was looked upon as a dan
grrous and assuming military chieftain
who menaced the integrity and freedom
of our civil institutions, and especially
of such institutions as the great National
Bank. The directors of the New Orleans
bank were, doubtless, somewhat pervaded
w : th this sentiment. Still the rules of
tneliank justified them ih declining to
advance the fund required by Gen.
Jackson, and the President was instruct
ed to communicate the conclusion of the
board.
He did so with all the sauvity usual
on such occasions.
Then rising from his seat, and advanc
ing to the counter, behind which the
polite President stood, the old chief
asked:
“Do I understand you, sir, to say
that this bank, having the money of the
United States in its vaults, declines to
advance a sum of money sufficient to
supply the immediate needs of 2,000
patriotic soldiers, whom I have left in
the swamps of Florida, exposed to fevers
and starvation ?”
“With profound regret, the rules
must be observed.”
Whereupon, with flashing eye and
that terrible aspect never forgotten by
any one who ever beheld Old Hickory
in a rage, the General, raising his gaunt
leted hand, brought it down with great
force upon the counter, exclaiming:
“By the 1 I will live to serve
your rascally bank as I have the Span
iards in Florida, as equally enemies of
the people and of liberty.”
With this fearful menace and vow h*
strode with his staff out of the bank. As
he emerged from the bank, the General
encountered two Irish-boru citizens and
merchants of New Orleans, who bad
heard of the order of the bank, and had
hastened to join the General, with offers
to cash his draft and furnish all that he
needed for his army.
It is officially reporteu tnat more
money has been expended this year for
new buildings and substantial repairs
and improvements in New York city
than at any time since 1873. The re
turns of the department of buildings
for the six months ending July 1 show
that 1,100 new buildings have been
commenced, at a total estimated cost of
814,800,000, or nearly $13,500 for each.
This is $3,000,000 more than was ex
pended for these objects in the same
period of last j ear, and double as much
as in 1877.
The Department of Agriculture at
Washington reports the number of hogs
in the country this year as 85,034,100.
Last year, 1879, they were reported at
84,700,200, and in 1878 at 32,262,500.
As this is census year the public will
have an opportunity of judging of tha
accuracy of the Department of Agricult
ure estimates of both crops and domes
tic animals.
Oregon has about 150,000 population
according to the latest census. Portland,
Ore., has 16,500 whites and 3,500 Chi
nese,
NO. 39.
TJVFZSXBXJS PIRES.
An English gentleman discovered that
the fame of electricity as a curative
power had penetrated Persia.
While tarrying at Shiraz, on business
connected with the overland telegraph,
he was visited by a Persian noble. Hav
ing received a paralytic stroke in his
left shoulder and arm, the nobleman
came to inquire if the Englishman’s in
visible fire—electricity—would not cure
him.
He had heard that there were magi
cians in England who cured all diseases
by the aid of this fire. The English
man, having moderated the Persian’s
expectations by remarking that the
statement was on exaggeration, accom
panied him to the office of the telegraph.
A powerful battery had just been pre
pared, and the officer in charge readily
consented to operate on the paralyzed
arm. To the two poles of the battery a
copper wire w as attached, and at the ex
tremity of each wire a dumped sponge.
The Persian was instructed to tightly
grnsp one of the sponges in his paralyzed
arm. Timidly complying, he was as
tonished to feel no sensation.
“ Wait a moment,” said the English
man, clapping the other sponge on the
man’s shoulder. With a leap and a yell
he bounded out of the room, amid the
uproarious laughter of the officials.
All Shiraz was excited, the next day,
at the shock the nobleman had received.
Though it effected a partial cure, the
frightened man refused to submit to a
second application of the “ invisible
fire.” One shock was sufficient, for he
declared all the stars of the heavens
were visible to him in that awful mo
ment,
He would visit the telegraph office
and look with awe at the “fire"ma
chines. Mournfully shaking his head,
he would depart without uttering a
word.
Another Persian, whose curiosity con
quered his fear, while examining the
telegraph, touched one of the terminals
of the machine. As he felt no sensa
tion, he laid his hand on the other
terminal. A sudden yell and a back
ward jump were the result.
The man told his companions, in an
awe-struck tone, that he had been bit
ten by the genii of the machine. The
Englishman attempted to explain the
operation, but his words did not disturb
in the least the Persian’s credulity.
A strange story of the hardships oY
Russian captivity is related by a Ger
man engineer named Neumeyer. He
was busily engaged in superintending
the construction of a new railway in the
South of Russia, when he saw himself
suddenly surrounded by a body of police
and made prisoner. On being shown a
photograph portrait, he innocently ex
claimed : “ Where have you got this
picture from? I have never had my
likeness taken.” This extraordinary re
semblance of his to Louis Hartmann, or
rather Wolkoff (the alleged author of the
Moscow attempt on the Emperor’s life),
and a scar on his right hand, brought
poor Neumeyer into a serious predica
ment. He was put in chains, token to
Moscow, submitted to a wearisome in
vestigation, then dragged across the
country on foot to Warsaw, with no
nourishment other than bread, cabbage
and spoiled fish on a journey of forty
four days. After spending about six
weeks more in prison on bread and
water, surrounded by a low set of crimi
nals awaiting their transportation to Si
beria, he succeeded in forwarding a let
ter to the Governor General of Polade,
whose brother had formerly employed
Neumeyer on his estates in Esthonia.
Thanks to Count Kotzebue’s interces
sion, Count Loris Melikoff allowed the
I>oor victim to return to Germany in a
penniless condition, covered with ver
min, and wearing the same clothes in
which he had been seized, and which
bad never been washed.
—« m ♦
A hobbibue occurrence is reported as
having taken place in the town of Casco,
Kewaunee county, Wis. Two little
girls, aged respectively 6 and 8 yeart,
went out in the woods alone to pick ber
ries. Shortly after they arrived at their
destination an old bear made his appear
ance and began walking stealthily about
them, and finally attacked the older girl.
The other girl immediately ran to her
home and informed her parents of what
had occurred. The horror-stricken
mother and father hastened to the place,
and found Bruin standing over the little
girl with one of her arms in his mouth.
The ]>oor little child was dead.
- ♦
Late advices from Ireland say the
corn and root crops of the island prom
ise more than an average yield, and that
the general aspect of the country is
cheering,
Published Every Thurbday at
BELLTON, GEORGIA
RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION.
Oue year (62 number.), $1.00; six months
numbers) 60 cents; three month* (18
numbers) 25 cents.
OJiee ju the Smith building, east of the
depot.
FOSCOE, THE MISER.
In the year 1762, an extraordinary in
stance of avarice occurred in Franc®.
A miser of the ’name of Fosnue, who
bod amassed enormous wealth by the
most sordid parsimony and the most
discreditable extortion, wuA requested
by the Government to advance a sum of
money as a loan. The miser, to whom
a fair interest was not inducement suffi
ciently strong to enable him to pari,
with his treasured gold, declared his in
capacity to meet this demand; he
pleaded severe losses and the utmost
poverty. Fearing, however, that some
of his neighbors, among whom he was
very unpopular, would report his immense
wealth to the Government,he applied his
ingenuity to discover some effectual way
of hiding his gold, should they attempt
to institute a search to ascertain the
truth or falsehood of Ins plea. With
great care and secrecy he dug a deep cave
in his cellar ; to this receptacle for his
treasure ho descended by a ladder, and
to the trap door he attached a spring
lock, so that on shutting it would fasten
of itself.
By and by the miser disappeared ; in
quiries were mode, the house was
searched, woods were explored, and the
ponds were dragged, but no Fostrue
could they find; the gossips began to
conclude that the miser had fled with
his gold to some part, where, by living
incognito, he would be free from the de
mands of Government Some time
passed on ; the house in which he had
lived was sold, and workmen were busily
employed in its repair. In the prog
ress of their’work they met with the
door of the secret cave, with the key in
the lock outside. They threw back the
door, and descended with a light. The
first object upon which the lamp was
reflected was the ghastly body of Fob
oue, the miser, and scattered around him
were heavy bags of gold and ponderous
chests of untold treasure; a candlestick
lay beside him on the floor.
This worshiper of mammon had gone
, ,into fris cave pay his devoirs to his
golden god, and became a sacrifice to
his devotion. What must have been the
sensations of that miserable man, what
the horrors of his situation, when he
heard the door close after him, and the
spring-lock effectually imprison him
within his secret mine I How bitter
must have been the last struggles of the
I avaricious soul. How terrible must
I have been the appeals of conscience
■ within that sordid sinner. How each
bag must have disgorged its treasures,
| and each piece of gold have danced, in
imagination, around him as a demon I
How hated, when the gnawing pangs of
starvation came slowly upon him, must
have been that yellow vision; his very
heart must have grown sick at that
which he once so dearly loved. Gold
in bags ; gold in chests ; gold piled
in heaps; gold for his pillow; gold
strewed upon the ground for him to lie
upon.
While his taper lasted, turn where he
would his eyes, nothing met him but his
gold. But when the last flicker died
away, and the miser was left in dark
ness, to dwell upon his coming death
and upon his many sins, how awful must
have been the agonies of conscience I
How surely, amid the gloom of that.
! sepulcher of gold, must the poor whom
j he had oppressed, and the unfortunate
■ whom be had ruined by his avarice,
I have rose up to reproach him! And
’ when the mind became fevered by its
, last deadly struggles, how the faces of
' haggard poverty, of hate, and loathing
for the miser, must, in one lend, dis
cordant chorus, have cried for ven
geance and retribution upon his guilty
i soul I
,vo second fjdm.es.
When the rich iron-monger B. wee
elected Mayor of C he requested oue
of his friends to get up an orchestral
concert for him in first-rate style. “How
will you manage it?” asked he. “Well, Til
engage eight first violins, six seconds—”
“Stop," said the rieh man ; “ none of
j our second fiddles. I have money
enough ; let them all he firsts."
—
Prof. Thurston, testing pieces of the
j wire cable of the Fairmount suspension
I bridge, recently taken down at Phils
! delphia, after being in use about forty
1 years, found the iron to be fully equal
! in tenacity, elasticity and ductility to
the best wire of the same size found in
the market. This fact, and similar re
sults obtained by another experimenter
in 1878, led him to the important conclu
sion that iron subjected to the ordinary
strains of properly designed bridges doee
not deteriorate with age.
A man at Locust Grove, Ky.', has had
his coffin in his house for twenty years,
but is still a robust man.