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7* NORTH GEORGIA TIMES. a * U.'itA&nM'.l JfeHtors and Proprietors. Soar af the Sooth Wind. JJwoogh fngnr.% pines I sweep along, And chant fi»r the m a ighty song, Grand and. triumphant, sweet and strong, like orphan notes heard faraway, in wrj?,ie cathedral old and gray, Wfran vespora tells the close of day. I stir the ripples on the lake: The dancing wavelets softly break Against the oool white sand, and make A broken melody that seems Tike birdlinjrs. chirping in their dreams, Tire lights the east with dawn’s faint gleams. I bring the rain clouds from the sea— The shadows fall on lake and lea; The thirsty plants nod thanks to me, ■And yield roc treasures of perlume, The 9weet mementos of their bloom, To bear away to climes of gloom, 'To tell the Northland’s prisoned flowers— Biding the slow, dark winter hours. While chill and gray thq-Outl sky lowers* “bong though youp time of wniling bo, Ami firm the cb-Uins that fetter ye, J.03C not voqr hope—ye shall be freo V* —JluyusUi V. Dunn. A TIGHT SQUEEZE. BY AN KX-OOXKEDERATK. When General Meade fell back from Aline Run. in the fall of 1863, he went Sato winter quarters between the ltap TRan and the Rappahannock, on his old grounds. This was about December 1. On the 15th of the month I received orders to cross tho river, penetrate his camp and pick up all possible infor¬ mation. It waa understood that ho was send¬ ing tr jops off west, and I was particu¬ larly charged to discover it there was anjf .emulation in the report. i left the rebel cavalry outpost at 10 o’clock one night, being on foot and wearing a blue uniform through¬ out. There was Bbout a mile of neu¬ tral ground between outposts, and when I had crept down the highway almost to the Union videttes I took to the fields and flanked ’em. I knew* every Tod of that, country, and passing th(j vidette was a matter of no trouble. It was when l reached the first line of sentinels that I had to go keer ful. It was now midnight, and win¬ ter had set in. There was no snow, but the wind was coid and the ground frozen. It so happened that I struck a part of French’s corps. Knowing that Lee was going into winter quar¬ ters, and knowing that a strong picket was out, the sentinels were not over watchful. I crept up until I located two, and both were muffled up against the cold iind thinking more of keeping warn* than of looking for spies. While 1 was waiting for a chance to skulk in, the two c..me together and stood talking, and this gin me the show I wanted. I riz up from the cold ground, bore off a little to the right, and en¬ tered thq gap without being seen. In ten nunutes more I was among the tenfc and shanties. I must find a place to pass the night. It was too cold to go prowling’round, saying nothing of the danger to be in¬ curred. 1 walked up one street and down another, looking for a place to stow myself away; and by and by I saw a soldier come out of a tent and go off. I reasoned that he was on guard, and had come to his tent on some er¬ rand, and I was probably right. It was half-tent, half-shanty, with a fire place in it I crept in at the door and found afire going, and there three men asleep under the blanket There was a heap of wood at hand, and the best I could do was to stir up the fire and hover over it I didn’t mean to fall asleep; that is I was bound and de¬ termined to keep awake, but I had no sooner got fairly warmed through than I went off to the land o’ Nod, and the next thing I knew it was day¬ light None o’ the chaps under the blank¬ ets were awake, and 1 slipped out without disturbing ’em. Everything would have been all right ’cept for a man in a tent across the street. He had come out after wood, and was standing there as 1 appeared. As both tents belonged to same company, and as all the men in each company knew each other, it was only natural that I, a perfect stranger, should attract bis attention. Further it was jest as nat¬ ural that he should suspect me of be¬ ing a thief. He was a sour-faced, beetle-browed chap, and the minit I looked into his eyes I knew we should have a row. “Ah ! I caught you i" he growled as I faced him.” “At what ?” I coolly SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY JANUARY 7, 188(5. “Stealing, of course!” \ “You are wrong. I went In there to get warm." “Whobe you?” “George Smith.*’ “What regiment?” “Sixth Maine.” I wasn't answering • at random. I knew that the Sixth Maine was in tho fight at Rappahannock Station, about a month before, because I had talked with some prisoners. “Wher’ayour regiment?” he asked. “That’s what I’m looking for,’’ I re¬ plied. “I was took by the rebs fifteen days ago, and have just escaped and come in.” I answered him so promptly, and told such a straight story, that he could have no suspicions, and I might have got away but for an accident, He had brought out his coffee-pot, and in moving away l fell over it. He was aching for a fuss with somebody, and that was a good excuse. lie jumped for me without a word. I returned the blow, and then we clinched and fought up and down the street. 1 was getting the best of him, when we fell upon and wrecked a tent and began to draw a crowd. In five min¬ utes there were fifty men around us, and pretty soon an officer comes up, and separates us and asks: “What is this row about?” “I caught that chap stealing,” sings out my opponent. "He lies !” “Who are you V” asks the officer. •'Private George Smith, of the Sixth Maine.” “Where’s your regiment?” "Don’t know, sir. I was captured by the rebs,’ got away and aui looking for my regiment.” “When did you come in?” "Last night.” “How did you pass all the outposts and sentinels ?” He had me there. I had as good as betrayed myself by that one answer. “I’ll see to your case !” he growled, and he called the guard and had me marched off. The guard-house was a log stable, and as soon as he reached it I was stripped and searched. The next move was to hunt up the Sixth Maine and discover thafc I did not be¬ long to that regiment. 1 was then taken to corps headquarters and ques¬ tioned. I changed my line of defense, claim¬ ing to be a deserter from the One Hundred and Twenty-fourth Mew York, who was voluntarily coming back to his regiment, but the next day the Colonel of that regiment came to look at me, and pronounced me a liar and an impostor. Next day, when a court martial was convened, I had no defense to offer. They tried me as a spy, and while nothing could be proved, 1 was comdemned and sentenced to be shot. 1 was given to understand that, but 1 reckoned that some of the officers were not quite satisfied. Instead of carrying out the sentence right away, the findings were sent to a higher court for approval. What I am telling you in a minute consumed about two weeks. 1 was pretty comfortably fixed in the barn, but so zealously guarded that there was no possible show for escape. The pa¬ pers had been sent off, and I was daily expecting to hear their approval, when, one night just before dusk, the chaplain of a Pennsylvania regiment came in to console me. He was about my size and age with the same colored hair, and the minit I saw him I grasped at a plan. When we had talked a little I asked him: “How did you get in?” "Why, I showed my pass to the guard,” he answered That was all I desired to know. He talked for about an hour, and I made him promise to come and see me the next evening at the same hour. He ad¬ vised me to give up all hope and make my peace with God, and I gave him to understand that I might be more con¬ trite on his next visit. I tell you, tiiat next day week long. I had a plan, and it prom¬ ised success. When the day did begin to fade away I was so nervous and ex¬ cited that I could not keep still. The chaplain came in just at dark, and, as he grasped my hand, he said: “Tiie papers hav8 come back, and you must prepare to die 1” "Pray for me 1” says I. He knelt right down, and he had skeercelv uttered a word when 1 had him by the throat. It was so sudden, and I had sich a grip on him, that he skeercely kicked. I didn't want to kill him, but 1 choked him until ha Was like a rag. Then I off with his coat, vest and pahts, and was into ’em before he showed signs of coming to. It was too soon to go out, and I choked him some more. Poor man 1 I felt sorry to do him sich injury, but my life was at stake. In about twenty minutes I felt it was safe to go out 1 dragged him into a corner, sat him up on end, and then knocked oh the door. It was opened at once, and as I squeezed out the guard shut it without even glancing in. “How is he, chaplain ?” asks the guard as he locks the door. “Resigned, poor man,” I answers, and oft 1 goes. As I afterwards learned, 1 had a good hour’s start. I didn’t head for the river, as might be expected, but for the north, and it was over a month before I saw Lee’s lines again. A Washington paper had a long story about my escape, and it said I would have bin shot next day, and that the chaplain would belaid up for a month. —Detroit Free Press. A New Narcotic. Something worse than opium or chloral is reported to the New York Medical Society. Several city practi¬ tioners found out that a few persons were using hyoseine to produce a sort of intoxication that resulted in pro¬ found slumber. The drug is a hydro bromate, and has to a limited extent been used in medicine in lieu of atro phine for relief in epilepsy and other diseases of the nerves. It is obtained from a German plant, and is usually on sale by German apothecaries in this city. The supply has been small, and the price about seventy-live cents a grain; but a suddenly increased de¬ mand nearly exhausted tiie stocks and sent the price to a dollar. The doses must be infinitesimal in order not to be dangerous, and the peril oi self-dosing lies in the liability to kill by carelessly swallowing or hypoder¬ mically injecting too much. The ex¬ perimenters with it proved chiefly to be medical students, drug clerks and others acquainted with its sopori¬ fic qualities. IIarddrinker3 employed it to force sleep, and very nervous per¬ sons drove off insomnia with it. In order to test its effects, it has been systematically administered to thirty six insane patients in the State Hos¬ pital for the Insane, by Drs. Langdou and Peterson, who say that the effects prove the very great danger of hyos cine eating. They found that it would indeed compel sleep in most cases, but that its habitual use would surely bring muscular paralysis and delirium of a particularly violent sort. The society will a*k the Legislature to for¬ bid the sale except on prescription.— Cincinnati Enquirer. Bathing in India. The gospel of cleanliness is not fjc India. Do I begin to argue? I am told that “a virtue of Gautama Buddha was his dirty face!” Ami yet a bath is a Hindoo’s frequent practice. But the use of mustard oil overbalances ail ablutions. A native always polishes bis skin with mustard oil before bath¬ ing. “It prevents the water from en¬ tering the blood through the skin,” Gauga tells me. It makes the pres¬ ence of a native anything but agreea¬ ble, for the anointing having greatly diminished the power of the water, the sun’s action upon the cutaneous surface is such that the smell has act¬ ually the effect of ruining the health of Europeans who have to inhale it for many hours daily in the katcherries and courts of law. If you say to one of these objection¬ able smelling parties: “You would do well to take a bath!” he will answer, spitefully: “I am a Hindoo!” This, being interpreted, means that the man scrupulously observes the many- wash¬ ings that the law enjoins. But those wasbiugs are something like the mumbling of a formal .prayer. Indeed, g fftt &ig^»-casfce Hindoo may not, like Pharisee of old, eat except he wash. Something Hot for a Cold. patient—“You should take somrtSdng hot for your cold.’, Indolent patient—“Well, in whti form shall I take it, doctor?" Doctor—"Considering you have so little exercise, I should say you would derive the most good from it if you took it in the shape of a ttatiron. Boston Budget. GIANTS OF THE FOREST. Something About the Califor¬ nia Redwood Tree. !Fwenty-Five Thousand Feet of Lumber from a Single Specimen. The Redwood of California is the second largest and the third loftiest tree of the known world. It reaches Its greatest perfection upon the sea¬ ward slopes and along tho • transverse ravines of the Coast Mountains of the northem and central parts of the State, j It is occasionally found scat¬ tered or clumped among other growths, but is generally massed in dense for¬ ests. It grows so high, branches so thickly and stands so close as to dark en even noonday brightness into shad¬ owy evening twilights among the huge, monumental trunks below. Fog seems its favorite food, The lofty, thick and spreading tops form vast and swift condensers of the heavy fogs which descend in local daily rains, forming pools which often remain till high noon even in hottest days of the dryest season. Where the trees have been cut away, with no provision for regrowth, have springs have dried up and streams failed. The name is one of those simple, obvious, Saxon christenings which every spectator understands the mo¬ ment lie sees the color of the wood. Its hues show ail varieties of red, from the most delicate pink of the finest cedar to the deepest and dark¬ est shades of the richest mahogany. In 3ome cases its reddish-browns rival those of black walnut, while under long exposure to the weather it takes on black ness equal to that of ebony. In texture and appearance the wood is occasionally waved,, curled, flecked, veined, mottled, twisted and inter¬ woven in the most varied, intricate and beautiful manner. Indeed, some specimens show all these varieties of formation combined. Its knots, roots and ^'rl,* frtf nlsh veneers as exquisite¬ ly beautiful as those of the most costly imported woods. If they came from some distant foreign land, fairly staggering under some polysyllabic, unpronounceable name, our cabinet¬ makers, artists in carving, and their wealthy patrons would esteem them almost priceless. Its grain and densi¬ ty vary from those of the softest pine to those of the densest beech. When wet or unseasoned the wood is often enormously heavy. Specimens have been known to sink instantly. The thickness of the bark varies from four to twelve inches. Its texture resem¬ bles that of the famous Sequoias, or big trees, which are but a gigantic Bpecies of the Redwood. in height the California Redwood allows but two other vegetable growths to look down upon it. Those are its lofty relative above alluded to and the Australian Eucalyptus. It has been known to reach 320 feet; quite often 250; very commonly 200 to 225. In diameter specimens reaching twenty feet have been authentically measured. Thousands of trees now standing in the newly opened Loma Prieta and others districts girt from thirty to forty feet. The logs from these trees are often so large that they have to be blasted into halves and even quarters before the wood-teams and sawmills can handle them. One tree yielded seventeen logs each twelve feet long, and the upper one six feet through at the smaller end. It is true that these stories may seem incredibly "big” to the Eastern render, but the trees them¬ selves are very much bigger, as the in¬ credulous may easily satisfy them¬ selves by visiting the localities already named. Twenty-five thousand feet of lum¬ ber from a single tree is very common. In the foggier and moister northern counties the average from each tree is fully one half greater. For posts, sills, ties, flumes, aque¬ ducts and sewers the wood is the best >known. It is also admirably adapted to the inside finish of halls, dining¬ rooms, billiard-rooms, music-rooms, libraries, churches, cars and steam¬ ships, as well as for many forms of cabinet-making. When exposed to the weather with¬ out paint or oil, it turns nearly black. It lias also the remarkable quality of •brtsfe&ff easwise, and. what is still more remarkable in the same log dif¬ ferent year’s growths sometimes shrink nn-equally. Sparks and cin¬ ders of burning redwood, falling upon Hat oi sloping surfaces, even shingle VOL. V. New Series. No. 48. °f 3 > go out at once. Shingles of it With great difficulty from sparks other wood. It seems to be natural fireproof in the midst of exposure i would quickly kindle other The beautiful redwood is already an supplying a constantly increas¬ ing demand in our Eastern cities, while a new and wealthy syndicate is To her millions of feet to from Europe. the { already vast income great staples, wheat, wine and wool, the Golden State now adds a new source of wealth in the regular and in . creasing export Of the valuable and beautiful timber and lumber of this queen of the vegetable kingdom, the California Redwood.— San Francisco i Call. Eggs in Ireland. Seeing that some three-fourths of the whole population of Ireland are more or less connected with or engag¬ ed in agricultural pursuits, there is probably no question more often asked daily by at least 1,000,000 of the popu¬ lation of Ireland than, “What is the price of eggs?” From the moment the well-known “Cluck, cluck,” is heard from the hen announcing the production of an egg there is a rush made for it, which never ceases until the empty shell is thrown into the ash bin. That egg is bartered and rebar¬ tered, sold and sold again, many times before it is introduced to the break fast-table. Many lies are told about its age, some about its size, many more about its price. Eggs are bought by the dozen and by the hundred of six score. In some parts of Ireland, notably in Dublin market, the hundred counts one hundred and twenty-four, The trade is divided mainly into two classes—buyers and shippers or ex¬ porters. The former are again sub¬ divided into two other classes—dealers and shopkeepers. Buyers sell direct to the shippers; shippers export direct either to customers in Scotland, Eng¬ land, or Wales, or to an agent or brok¬ er there, who sells for him on commis¬ sion. "The buyer fs a mah or woman owning, or in many cases hiring, a donkey, mule, or horse, and going from one farmer’s house to another buying their eggs for money; or, in many cases, giving goods, such as groceries, needles, thread, and other like useful articles, in barter for eggs. Dealers are a smaller class of buyers. They are mostly old women who have what is called a “dealing,” that is, a small shop, which from ten to thirty shillings would stock, their husbands or chil¬ dren being of the laboring class. These poor dealers buy up from 300 to 400 eggs weekly, mostly obtaining the same by barter. These they usu¬ ally send in by a donkey cart in a basket resembling a fish-woman’s creel, once a week, to the town where the nearest shipper resides; cr some¬ times, if needy, will sell for a less price than would be had from the shipper to a well-to-do buyer. Even in tlie humblest walks of life there is pride, and the poorest dealers will not sell to any one but a shipper, unless they are very badly off for ready moo ey.— Chambers’ Journal. The Vitality of Seeds. The seeds of the willow will not ger¬ minate after having been once dry. The seeds of coffee and various other plants do not germinate after having been kept for any considerable time. Wheat over two centuries old has been found quite fit for food, but the grains usually lose their power of growth after a lapse of seven years, Specirnena of rye and wheat known to be 185 years old could not be induced to germinate. “The stories of ‘mum my wheat’sprouting after having lain dormant in Egyptian tombs for thou sands of years are, to say the least of them, very dubious,” declares Dr. Robert Brown, F. L. S. “No well authenticated instances of such finds are extant, while among other articles sold by the Arabs to credulous travel ers, as coming out of the same tomb as the ancient wheat, have been dahlia bulbs and maize, the deposition of which in the receptacle from which they were said to be extracted necessi¬ tates the belief that 3000 years ago the subjects of the Pharaohs were engag¬ ed in commerce with America.” When kept dry and protected from light and air, however, seeds have been known to retain their vitality for some length¬ ened periods. Seeds of the bean and pea order have sprouted after 100 years storage in an herbarium, and many similar instances —most of them some¬ what doubtful— have been recorded. Good Night. Good night? I have to say good nightl t o sucl> * host ° f peerless things! Good night unto that fragile hand All queenly with ita weight of ring®. Good night to food uplifted eyes, Gopd night to chestnut braids of hair, Good night unto the peifcct mouth And all the sweetness nestled there? The snowy hand detains me—then I’ll have to say good night again. Hut there will oomo a time, my love! When, if I Road our stars aright, 1 shall not lingor by this porch With my a Jie.». -Till then, good night! Von wish tho time* were now? And I, You do not blush to wish it so? would have blushotl yourself to death To own so much a year ago. What! both theso snowy bands? Ah! then I’ll have to say good night again. — Thomas Suiley Aldrich. HUMOROUS. Waiter—“Will you have some salt with your eggs?” Guest—No, thanks; they ain’t at all fresh.” German photographers are now making photographs of lightning. They are said to be striking likenesses. A Western poet, it is said, thinks more of his wife than he does of his poems. So does every one that ever read h!s poems. A philosopher who had married an ignorant girl used to call her “brown sugar,” because, he said, she was sweet and unreliued. Girls in search of material for crazy quilts should apply to the railroad com¬ panies They throw away thousands of old ties every year. A subscriber asks: “When is the best tilne to marry Mr. Enpeque says the best time for such a ceremony i 8 the 31st of February, It’s many years ago since the poet wrote that “beauty draws us with a single hair.” It generally takes a for ty-flve-dollar switch to do it now. Why the engagement was broken: “And dearest Augustus, when we are married you will give me all the pin money 1 want,.....won’t you. darling?” “Yes, duckie, you shall buy all the pins you can use." “Oh, deary, that’s so nice of you. There’s a beautiful diamond pin down at the jeweller’s that I’ve wanted for ever so long.” 1IKK CRUEL PA. “I’ve bouught n bonnet, papa, dear, My beau declares ’tis trimmod with skill; 1 have no funds, and I've come hero To seo if you will foot the bill.” “Your bean! and what may lie his name?” Tlie lather roughly questioned her; She hung her head, with cheeks Htiurae, She softly answered, “William, sir.” His eyes shone with a dangerous light— “Hum! So he says 'tis trimmed with skill T Well, bring him to the house to-night, And I will gladly foot your Bill.’’ Eclipses of the Son. The eclipses of the sun, says the Chicago Inter-Ocean , are caused by the moon’s passing between the earth and the sun. If the two bodies fol¬ lowed the same track in the heavens there would be an eclipse every new moon, but as the orbits are inclined, the moon generally passes above or below the sun, and there is no eclipse. Occasionally the sun is near one of the moon’s nodes—the points where the planes of the orbits intersect—when it passes, and then an eclipse occurs. If the sun and the moon were always at the same position witli regard to the earth, and always the same distance from it, the eclipses would always be of the same size. But as these condi tinns vary, so do the appearances of the eclipse. For instance, let us sup pose that at the time of an eclipse the center of the moon happens to pass di rect over the center of the sun. If the moon is near tho point in the orbit which is at the least distance from the earth her apparent diameter'will ex¬ ceed that of thf^sun, and the latter will be quite hidden from view, and we have what is known as a total eclipse, Of course, even in this case, the eclipse will only appear total to the observers near the line joining the centers of the sun and moon. If, however, the three bodies occupy similar positions, but the distance between the earth and moon is greater, the whole of the sun is not covered by the moon, and the eclipse is annular. If the moon, how¬ ever, does not pass centrally over the sun, it can only hide a part of the lat¬ ter on one side or the other, and the eclipse is said to be partial. As the moon’s orbit is quite elliptical, the dis¬ tance of that body from the earth varies greatly. Its least .distance is 221,000 miles, its greatest 259,606 miles. ’ ♦ W: