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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 '