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NORTH GEORGIA *1 TIMES.
w! O." SLflMMN’J IWhar " “* Proprietor*.
a rayino soya.
Ovw the meadow floats the mitt.
Rolling softly away;
Up on the hills the tun has kissed,
Brighten* the yellow day.
Faintest breath of the morning breeze
Shakos the dew from the orchard trees,
Sways the bough where robin is saying,
"‘Wake, oh, Wake! it is time for haying!"
Cows are lowing In haste to try
Pastures moistened with dew;
Swallows twitter, and brown bees
Scenting the blossoms new.
Meadow larks, out of sight, repeat,
Over and over, “Sweet, oh, Sweet!
,
Grass, and clover, and lilies blowing,
Hound my nest like a forest growing.*
Through the meadows the mowers tread,
W ith a sturdy stroke and true;
And oh! few the lilies, so tall and red,
When the gleaming scythe sweeps through,
Balancing over the grasses light,
Dropping with laughter out of sight,
“Ho, ho, ho!” hear the blackbird singing,
“Give me a day when scythes are swing¬
ing.”
In fragrant furrows the grass is laid,
The golden sun climbs high;
The mowers sharpen the ringing blade,
And glance at the western sky.
Hark! the quail with his warning call
Whistles loud from the mossy wail,
“Mower whet!” while the sun is shining,
storms may come when the day’s de¬
clining.
—Emitu Hitter, in the Current.
AN EDITOR’S LUCK.
The editor of the Dorset Independent
sat ia the back window of the editorial
rooms, looking rather despondent.
!■ The Independent was six months old,
and the editor was beginning to think it
would never be much older,
j People admired the enterprising young
editor, Eben Hill, who had come from
the next town with a hand press, and a
small and freckled assistant, and gone to
work so energetically; but people had
got along so far without a paper, and
they were inclined to think they could
do so still.
Subscriptions were not numerous, and
there was a disposition on the part of the
majority of the subscribers to pay in
wood or potatoes, or anything but
money, or not to pay at all.
ie editor sat stroking his beardless
» and looking out of the window
gloomily.
He had grown very fond of sitting in
the back window, the reason being that
it looked directly into Mr. Strew’s back¬
yard, and that Virginia Strew sat there
almost every afternoon with her book or
sewing.
From meeting her eyes and smiling
occasionally, as he sat biting the end of
his pencil over the “Local Items” for the
next issue of the Independent, he had
grown into the habit of stepping from
the window and joining her on he
bench under the grapevines.
She was sitting there now, with her
head bent over her work and the folds
of her white dreBS falling softly about
her.
The editor coughed; Virginia looked
up and smiled; and the editor leaped
from the window with undignified
haste.
“Well,” said Virginia, laying down
her work as he sat down beside her,
“how are you getting along?”
“Badly!” said Eben, shaking his head.
“Two more subscriptions stopped—
John Burke, because I didn’t want to
take a bushel of beets, instead of money
—beets! and Mr. Hewitt, because I for¬
got to mention the cucumber that he
‘laid on our desk.’ I’m afraid the Inde¬
pendent is going down hill.”
“Dear me!” said Virginia, sympa¬
thetically. “If your uncle would only
step in and help you!” she added, wist¬
fully.
Eben’s uncle was another common
topic. He was rather mythical. All the
editor knew about him was that he was
a well-to-do publisher somewhere in
Boston.
But Virginia was fond of speculating
about him.
“A publisher, tool” she added, mus¬
ingly. “It would be exactly the thing
for you!”
“It would finable me—”
There was a rustle behind them. Vir¬
ginia held up a warning finger.
“It is the Grangers’ boarder,” sbe
whispered. “He came this noon. He’s
been sitting in the yard all the afternoon,
looking over here—Mercy, here he is!”
A head had projected itself above the
vines behind them, and a hand clutched
at the branches.
“I beg your pardon t” paid the person,
smoothly, “but I saw you come over.
Are you not the editor of—of the—”
“The Independent said Eben, frig
idly.
Whqt right had this person to be look
lag at Virginia all the afternoon, and
to thrust himself upon them in this
way!
s *Oh, Test” said toe stranger, blandly;
SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA. THURSDAY. OCTOBER is. 1885 ,
-
-
* so 1 was told. I— In fact, 1 was ana*
ious to make your acquaintance!’’
Hie grapevine shapped; the head dia
appeared; there was a painfully-suggest
ive jar.
Virginia peeped through a crack in
the fence.
“There’s a gate a little further down,”
she said, politely. “Won’t you come
inf"
“You are extremely kind,” was the
response, uttered in a grateful, apolo¬
getic way, which Eben could see had its
affect upon Virginia.
She went immediately to Open the
gate.
Eben rose stiffly as they came toward
the bench together, and stood leaning
against the fence and frowning,
Virginia sat down upon the bench; the
interloper sat down beside her.
He was a tall, stout, rather florid young
man, with a face which the vast majori¬
ty would have prouoanced handsome.
But Eben promptly decided that he
had always disliked that style of good
looks.
“You are Mr. Hill, then?” said the
gentleman, suavely. “You see, I have
been studying the Independent* In¬
deed, he held a copy of that enterpris¬
ing sheet in his hand. “I am in the
business myself, and am naturally inter¬
ested. ”
He took a Card from his pocket book
and gave it to Eben. “R. A. Coombs,
Boston,” was printed on it.
Eben did not respond.
He fancied that Mr. Coombs’ refer¬
ence to the Independent had contained
something of sarcasm.
“Do you find it difficult, running a
paper alone?" Mr. Coombs continued,
cheerfully. “I feel a professional inter¬
est, you see.”
“I have an assistant,"said Eben, Cold¬
ly, with a grim smile, as the vision of
the assistant rose before him.
But he felt that the fellow must be put
down.
Of course he was hot in the business;
he had wanted a closer look at Virginia,
and ho had taken this way of getting it
Because he was a country editor; he had
And that it should have happened
then—just as he had plucked up courage
to speak his mind to Virginia!
He looked at Mr. Coombs witheringly,
with a growing bitterness of spirit.
“Indeed? A sub editor?” said Mf.
Coombs, politely. “If it would be con
venient,” he added, “I should like ex
tremelv to go through the editorial
rooms And perhaps thb ybung lady
would accompany tis?”
“Certainly,” said Virginia, promptly.
Eben stared at her.
So his smooth ways and his florid
good looks had captivated her already?
Perhaps it had been as well that his
avowal had been interrupted.
“I am sorry,” he said, savagely, “but
1 can hardly spare the time at present.”
And he turned sharply and left them,
dropping Mr. Coombs’ Card at a con¬
spicuous point as he went.
He stalked in at the front door of the
printing office, almost knocking down
the freckled assistant, who sat there
whittling, and straight to the back
window.
He could hear a steady murmur of
voices—Virginia’s soft tones, mingled
with Mr. Coombs’ deeper ones. Oc¬
casionally they both laughed in a highly
amused away.
He straightened the shutter, and
looked through. There they were, sit¬
ting rather close together on the bench,
Mr. Coombs bending toward Virginia,
and Virginia smiling up into his face.
Three o’clock—4. The sound of their
voices ceased at last. He heard the lit¬
tle gate open and shut, and he heard
Virginia humming lightly as she tripped
into the house.
Well, of course that must settle it!
If she could, before his very eyes, en¬
courage the bold advances of this person
from Boston—who was undoubtedly an
imposter—if she could laugh and talk
with him, as he had believed she could
do with nobody but himself, there was
but one thing to conclude—that, for his
own peace of mind, he must give her up.
It was the last thing he would have
thought of Virginia; he had trusted her
completely, and he felt cast down in
proportion.
But he felt a rising hope, in spite of
his resolves, as he sat in his usual place,
the next afternoon, with his paper and
pencil.
He was trying to write up Lucilla
Brompton’s wedding for the next week’s
Independent. He had a list of the guests
before him, and a catalogue of the pres
ents, and a box of the cake on the table
beside him; and he was expected to get
them all in.
But he felt his mind wandering from
Lucilla Brompton’s triumphs to Virginia
Strew and her misdoings, and he stuck
his pencil behifld his ear with a Sigh. would
Perbitps when she came out—she
be sure to come out—well, perhaps every¬
thing might be right yet.
He heard a rustling among the grape¬
vines presently.
There she was, blowing the dust off
the bench and switching her skirts to
one side preparatory to sitting down.
She looked up, and smiled and bowed;
and Eben sprang up, with his foot on
the window-sill—and stopped short,
For the little gate had opened with A
slick, and the tall form of Mr. Coombs
had appeared in the act of bowing.
The editor sank back into his chair,
closed the blinds Witb a bang, and wrote
Lucilla Btomptoh’s notice with fierce
rapidity.
The week that followed was the most
wretched he had ever spent.
Mr. Coombs had gone away after a
day of two, and Eben had put a cut¬
ting local in the Independent to the ef¬
fect that a Mr. Coombs, of Boston, had
been “lighting OUr benighted village
With the ihestimable glory of his pres
ehcev”
He took a Savage delight in this pro
duction, and he sent a marked copy to
Virginia
H,..tin th. back .Me .rtf, day,
aa usual, and .,er, af-arnca Virata
sat on the bench, with her sewing.
She had looked toward the window at
first, and smiled with her customary
sweotness; but the editor had made no
response, and she had come graduallv
'
to pay no attention to him.
Eben felt that his cup of misery was
full when, one afternoon, about a week
after the advent of Mr. Coombs, Vir
ginia did not come into the garden.
'
He walked up and down restlessly,
pausing frequently to look toward the
bench. She was sick, perhaps. And
might it not be that his neglect had
made her stt
The small assistant with his btimloas
hat on the back of his head, and one
hand full of marbles; came ih presently '
with the mail
Squire Bailey HTwTted his subscrip
tion withdrawn. He had subscribed
for the Agricultural News, and he didn’t
want to take two papers,
Eben threw it down with a sigh, and
took up the second.
It was a large, business like Spistte,
with the nahio of the firm, which was
printed in one corner, effectually blotted
out by a thumb mark. The small assist
ant rarely washed his hands.
Eben tore it open. It was headed,
“Hill & Barton, Publishers. ”
He glanced it over swiftly; then he
read it through slowly, the hand that
held it shaking with his eagerness; and
then he rushed to the back window.
Yes; there was a flutter of white
among the grape vines. She was there
at last.
He leaped from the window and flew
over to her side.
Virginia looked up from her work
with a smile, for all the world as though
nothing had happened.
“Read that!” said Eben, excitedly,
tossing the letter into her lap. “From
my uncle at last!”
It did not occur to him that, in view
of the events of the last week, Virginia
might no longer take an interest in him¬
self or his good fortune.
But she took up the letter quietly and
read it through, without any appearance
of emotion.
“It is very nice,” she said, taking up
her work and moving away from a cater¬
pillar on the edge of the bench. “Iam
very glad 1”
“Good gracious!” said Eben, sitting
down before her—and it did not seem in
the least as though he had not sat there
for a week—“it is one of the best places
in the house that he offers me. Just
look at the salary! And see here,” he
added in a subdued way, pointing to a
signature at the bottom of the page—
“ ‘Per Coombs.’ That means he wrote it
for him. Was that—could that have
been the fellow, Virginia?”
Virginia smiled composedly.
“It was,” sbe said, sweetly. “He is
one of the employes. He told me all
about it that first day. He is a relative
of the Crangcrs, and he was out here for
his vacation; and the senior partner of
the firm told him that if he came across
his nephew out here anywhere, he might
let him know. But if it hadn’t been for
me, he never would have let him know.
Why, he didn’t know what to think of
you.”
“But you did!” said Eben, edging a
little closer to her on the bench,
That her apswer was satisfactory may
be concluded from the fact that when
the editor went away, some two hours
later, he had put the unpretentious ring
T.
that he wOre upon the third finger of
Virginia’s left hand.
The Dorset Independent Came to sa un
timely end shortly after,
But the very first letter which the cr¬
editor wrote to his fianoe from Boston
contained the following postscript:
“Coombs seems to be 0 nice enough
felldw, but I have taken particular pains
to list him know that we are engaged.”—
Emma A. Opper, in Saturday Night.
Condiments and Indigestion.
Cayenne pepper may be selected as a
ty^ial Called. example of a condiment food and properly condi
so Mustard is a
W|tcombined; sorsje others. Curry this is e case mix¬ -with
era are
ture Of very potent Condiments with'
more or less of farinaceous materials and
Sulphur Of cothpdniids, Which, like the
oil of mustard, onions, garlic, etc., May
have a certain amount of nutritive value.
The mere condiment is a stimulating
drag that does its work directly upon
theinner lining Of the stomach, by ex¬
citing it tO increased and abnormal ac¬
tivity. A dyspeptic may obtain imme¬
diate relief by using cayenne pepper.
tbe adverti8(ld P atent “^in¬
19 *> U bea,lu S the yer y omlnou9 name
Of 4t# cWhptiunder, the active constitu
“ i df '* OmtnUd
tMoed by using it os a dinner pill.
I % $ ba f0r ‘ used * acute Only as a ***'&*** temporary rem- C
n °* *'
fceptmnai attack of mdigestion all rs
™1, P ilis or ^ du9tcd the cayehne, over the whether food taken 8tewed lu
-
^th it in curries or otherwise, is one of
tUo m ° 8t cruel ol P°*om vrhm
^ habitually. Thousands of poor
™ tches « crawhn g mis0rabl y toward
graves, the victims of the multi
t»de of maladies of both mind and body
that auc connected with chronic, meura
ble dyspepsia, all brought about by the
habitual use of cayenne and its Condi
aeotIil C0lisina -
Tb0usual history of these victims ,s .
A ^8™^ overfeeding, took the
condiment to force the stomach to do
! and demanded more; then more, afld
more, and more, until at last inflamma¬
tion, ulceration, torpidity, and finally
the death of the digestive powers, ac¬
companied with all that long train of
miseries to which I have referred.—
Knowledge
k South American Drink.
The word mate, though commonly
used by Europeans, and even occasion¬
ally by South Americans, to designate
the drink itself, is a misnomer, its proper
signification being the small, dry, ob¬
long gourd, generally dyed black, and
sometimes compelled by bandaging while
yet green to assume a fantastic shape,
out of whicli the Infusion of the “yerva”
itself or “Paraguayan tea” is taken.
The leaves of this tea plant, if an ilex
may so be denominated, are gathered
amid the wide plantations of its growth
on the borders of, or within the tropics
of, Northern Paraguay, and having been
dried by a careful and elabqpate process,
of which, not having myself witnessed
it, I oinit the description, are reduced
to a coarse, light green powder. With
this the gourd or mate Is more than half
filled, and hot or boiling water poured
in upon It. Almost immediately after¬
ward, with as little time left for stand¬
ing as may be, it is presented to the
drinker, who imbibes it through a silver
tube, plain or ornamented, from eight to
ten inches in length; one extremity is
somewhat flattened for convenience of
suction, the other expands into a bulb,
or bombilla, pierced with small holes,
which acts as a strainer to the liquid in
which it is immersed. The servant who
has bronght it stands by waiting till the
infusion ha* been drawn out, when he
goes to refill it, and returns to present
the apparatus to the next of the company
in turn, and so on, till after two or three
rounds a “Basta,” “enough,” or “Gra¬
cias," “thanks,” gives the signal for its
final removal. Taxen by itself and un¬
sweetened—for those who add sugar to it,
or, yet worse profanation, milk, put
themselves merely out of court, as in¬
capable of appreciating its merits—this
drink is of all light and refreshing tonics
that I know, Arabian coffee itself hardly
excepted, the pleasantest and most effec¬
tive. The taste of aromatic and slightly
bitter, not much unlike good Japanese
tea. But rightly to esteem and enjoy il
one should have earned it by a long day’s
ride in the subtropical sun, and drink it
reposing in the cool shade, to feel fa¬
tigue pass into memory only, and vigor
return with rest to every limb.— MamU
Ian's Magazine.
Borrowers don’t amount to much, at
best, but those who borrow trouble are
the most foolish of any.
VOL V. New Series. No. 36 .
POPULAR fkJffNCE
Itis believed the deepest water ott the
globe- has been iound in the Pacific
ocean’. ' English scientific explorers have
dropped the Stfuitding line 4 , 575 ‘fath¬
oms, about five and one-fifth miles. The
American steamer Tuscarora Sounded
4,600 fathoms east of Japan.
D«: Writer and Keller, of.St. Peters,
burg, have been' Studying the increase of
the earth’s mass from' the addition of
meteors drawn from space. They have
calculated that about 450,000 meteors
fall on the surface of the earth each hour,
and that the weight of the foreign ma¬
terial thus added must be as much as
4,96(Tpm»id» hourly, or nearly sixty tons
daily.
A French anthropologist has been com¬
paring skulls of men distinguished for
Uprightness and wisdom with skulls of
assassin# (sl.tty-five samples) and of sav¬
ages. He finds rt constant difference in
the profile of the forehead. Among dis¬
tinguished persons the anterior cranial
portions are the best developed, while
among savages and assassins the facial
and posterior projections exceed the
others.
The Glasgow Philosophical society
has demonstrated that at about 122 de¬
grees below zero, Fahrenheit, the flesh
of animats becomes so hard as to ring
like porcelain When struck, and also to
be capable, • of being crushed to. a fine
powderV Microbes, however, living in
the flesh before freezing have been
found alive when thawing took place,
after an exposure of two huudred hours
to this intense cold.
Stanley, the American explorer, be¬
lieves equatorial Africa to be habitable
for Europeans, and that, with due at¬
tention to diet and an occasional holiday
change, they may long retain their full
vigor in the Congo country, On the
other hand, Fischer, a German traveler,
regards Central Africa as entirely unsafe
for Europeans at lower levels than 5,000
feet, and even at that altitude malaria
must be expected on rich land.
By exhaustive investigation the Ger.
schoto ohlldrtm of CentmA-fcopc nrn
pure blondes, and about one-sixth nro
brunettes, more than ane-half being of
the mixed type. In Germany 31.60 per
cent, of the children are fair, and 14.05
per cent, are dark; in Austria the dark
predominate, being 23.17 per cent.,while
the fair amount only to 19.79; in Switz¬
erland the blondes are only 11.10 per
cent, while the brunettes are 25.70; and
in Belgium the blondes are 27.50 per
cent. The proportion of dark children
in Germany increases rapidly toward the
south, and that of light children toward
the north. This varying distribution of
fair and dark complexion forms the
basis of speculations concerning the
early colonization of Germany.
Wild Beasts In India.
It Is startling to read in official return*
that more than twenty-five -housand per
sons are annually destroyed in British
India by wild beasts. The tiger atone,
in 1883, killed 985 people, besides 4,000
cattle.
Venomous serpents destroy immense
numbers j>f wayfarers. Owing to the
heat of the climate, poor persons travel
mostly by night, aad walk barefooted
or wear only a sandal that does not pro¬
tect the ankles. The deadly cobra is
seldom active in the daytime, but he
may be trodden upon in the darkness by
uncovered feet. He attacks the traveler,
who is found in the morning dead upon
the road.
Often the shortest path between two
villages lies through -a jungle, where in
the daytime the heat will rise to 160 un¬
der the blazing sun of India. The temp¬
tation to defer the journey until after
sunset is to most natives irresistible, and
in the tropics darkness quickly follows
the departure of the sun. The natives
walk in Indian file in the narrow track,
and a loiterer falls an easy prey to a
tiger crouching in ambush.
In many parts of India, despite the ut¬
most efforts of the government, wild
beasts render life hard indeed to the
people, for one pair of full-grown tigers
with cubs will destroy from four to six
bullocks each week. Often in pure
wantonness, a tiger will kill two or three
cattle when he wants only a small part
of one. A family of tigers will kill in a
week more animals than a family of
armers can eat in a year.
The panther and the leopard are also
terrible cattle-eaters, and the leopard
has a particular habit of carrying off the
dogs which are expected to guard the
herd from his attacks. The Indian wolf
is noted for his audacity in seizing chil¬
dren. In India animals havo a charac¬
ter of ferocity which makes human life
in some districts well-nigh insupport¬
able.— Youth's Companion.
Mr
FUN,
The girl who loves William never asks
her father to foot her bill.— Call.
If a man wants a soft thing in hot
weather he need only ask for the butter.
Boston Potti „
“My dear, if you do not marry you
will be an old maid,” “Yes, but if I
marry I shall be made old.”
Love may be blind, but this does not
prevent spoony young fo'^s from finding
each other’s lips without any trouble.—
Sifting*. ^
Bismarck has lost, ^ortv-aix pooceJe
since, 1879. As he still weighs SS8
pounds, he will last, at that rate, some
thirty years longer .—LmctU Citmn.
The Boston Globe remarks that the
English editor who recently asked,
“Will Americans fight?” never listened
to the war stories of his own father and
grandfather.
Naval officers are not allowed to have
tbeif yriven with them at foreign stations.
The policy .of the United States toward
foreign countries is strictly peaceful.—
Courier-Journal
An exchange says? ‘ “The average lito
of a railroad brakeman is only ten years.”
Those we have seen appeared to be
older, but appearances are deceiving.—
Marathon Independent.
You will seldom see a sadder face than
the face of him who wears the anxious
look of one who has loaned a lead-pen¬
cil, and is momentarily expecting that tit
will not be returned.—Boston Tran
teript.
Beauty is not confined to one partic
ulaf rank in life, nor yet is homeliness,
but we want somebody to tell us of a
young lady with a million in her own
right who hasn’t a good figure .—Fal
flicer Advance.
One of the greatest puzzles to the ob¬
serving spectator who watched the young¬
sters playing Copenhagen at the children’s
jubilee yesterday w„-s to know why those
girls who fought so haTd against being
kissed played the game at all. They
didn’t have to.— Pittsburgh Commercial.
Rather equivocal—Gus De Smith was
late in arriving at a soiree given recently
by a prominent Austin lady. When We
arrived he immediately sought her pres¬
ence, and having found her, said: “I
beg a thousand pardons for coming so
late.” “My dear sir,” replied the lady,
“you can never come too late.” Gus
thinks this is a hint to stay away alto¬
gether. —Siftings.
Lite in Chill.
• There is a new hotel in Santiago, the
capital of Chili, which is about com¬
pleted now at a cost of nearly a million
dollars, and is by far the finest in South
America. In its equipment and service
it is as good as any in New York, and
the $5,000 a year cook will give you as
good a dinner as Delmonico. The
markets of Chili, too, are better than
those of other South American countries'.
The beef, mutton and other meats have
the flavor which is only found in a tem¬
perate climate; the fish are not so rank
and course as those caught in tropical
waters, and while vegetation is not so
prolific tho fruits of the earth have a
finer flavor. You can find oysters here
eoual to those of New Orleans or Mobile,
clams and lobsters, and plenty of beauti¬
ful shrimps called “camerons.”
The people claim that fires are un
healthful. that they cause disease, and
yet during the winter season colds are
epidemic, pneumonia and kindred com
dred complaints rage, and the mortality
from consumption is always very large.
They wear the thickest sort of under¬
clothing indoors and out, and sit shiver¬
ing the whole winter through for fear a
fire would poison the atmosphere. A
man never takes off his overcoat when he
enters his house, but if he has been ex¬
ercising generally puts On a thicker one.
Tho ladies wear furs in their parlors and
dining rooms, and keep their feet con¬
stantly in curiously made muffs of llama
wool. It looked very odd the other
evening at a fashionable dinner party to
see ladies in full toilet, with low-necked
and short sleeved dresses, wearing fur
lined mantles to the dinner table, and
poking their slippered feet into the muffs
that had been placed in rows before their
chairs.
The Chillanos are the Irishmen of
South America, quick, keen, witty, in -
pulsive and reckless. They will fight tt
the drop of the hat, with anybody, for
any cause and against any odds, and art
always anxious for somebody to step on
v ,he tails ef their coats.
Their wit is proverbial, and is as
marked as their recklessness. Chili it
the only country in South Amend
where comic papers are published, aac
these contain cartoons and witticisms
'
