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About North Georgia times. (Spring Place, Ga.) 1879-1891 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 5, 1886)
NORTH GEORGIA w % TIMES. 0 Wm. C. MARTIN, Fditor. The Lillie IlnnchbncS. I'm nine years old! an’ you can’t guess how much I weigh, I bet! Last birthday I weighed thirty-three, an’ I weigh thirty yet! awful little for my size—I’m purt’ high littler on’ babies is, an neighbors ail calls me “tko little man!’’ An’ Doc one time he laughed an said, “I ’spent first thing you know, You’ll have a little spike-tail coat an’ travel with a show!” An’ nen I laughed—till I lookod round and Aunty was a cryin’— she acts like that, ’cause I got “Curv’ture of the spine!” I set—while aunty’s washing—on my little long leg stool, An’ watch the little boys an’ girls a-skippin’ by to school; An’ I peck on the winder an' holler out an’ say: “Who wants to fight the little man’at dares you oil to-day t” An’ nen the boys climbs on the fence, an’ lit¬ tle girls peeks through, they all say: “'Cause you’re so big, you think we’re ’feared o’ you?” An’ non they yell, an’ shake their fist at me, like I shake mine— thust in fun, you know, ’cause I got “Curv’ture of the spine!” evening, when the ironin’s done, an aunty’s lixyl the fire. filled an’ lit the lamp, and trimmed the wick an’ turned it nigher, An’ fetched tko wood all in fer night, an’ locked the kitchen door, An’ stuffed tbo olo crack where the wind blows in up through the floor— She sets the kittle on tho coals, an’ biles mi’ makes the tea, fries the liver an’ mush, an’ cooks a egg fer mo, sometimes, when I cough so hard, her elderberry wine go so bad for little boys with “curv’ture of the spine!” childish, like, on my ac¬ count, you see, most afeared sbo’U bo took down, an’ ’ats v hat bothers me— ’Cause ef my good ole aunty ever would got sick an’ die, I don’t know what she’d do in heaven, till I come, by an’ by, she’s so ust to all my ways, an’ every¬ thing, you know, one there like me, to nurso, an’ worry over so, all the littlo childrens thoro’s go straight an’ strong, an’ fine, They'* nary angel ’bout tho place with “curv’ture of tho spine.” J. W. Jiilcy in the Current THE LAST STRAW. Mrs. Slack was next neighbor to the Peppers when they bought their cottage at Seaview, and on the very first night she tumbled over the scattered bits of furniture in the passage and appeared in their midst unexpectedly to borrow a lit¬ tle salt. She said it was nice to have neighbors again, jind that Mrs. Pepper looked so sweet she knew she wouldn’t mind. At midnight she roused them from their slumbers to inquire if they bad any chol¬ era medicine, for little Peter had been eating too many green apples and she thought he would die. She said she was thankful Mrs. Pepper had moved in, and that but for that circumstance she might have lost her darling. Mrs. Pepper was thankful, too, and the two women em¬ braced with tears. Then Mrs. Slack bor¬ rowed some mustard for a plaster. The next clay she sent Peter, fully re¬ covered and with his pockets full of green fruit, to ask for the ax, the handle having come off theirs; also a rolling-pin. Fortunately the Peppers possessed three axes and two rolling-pins, so they did not feel disturbed by the fact that the articles were never returned. But after a short interval filled by loans of coal, potatoes, bread and cheese, Mrs. Slack came herself to borrow the folding table, a pair of scissors, the pattern of a basque, and a low rocking-chair. She was going to make some dresses, and if Mrs. Pepper would step over and fit lic r she’d be much obliged. ' Mrs. Pepper did it and made the but¬ ton-holes, too. Mrs Slack never could learn to make a button-hole. The table, the scissors, the rocking-chair, and the pattern all remained at Mrs. Slack’s. The next week Mrs. Slack borrowed a mantle and a water-proof. Mrs. Pepper by this time grew enough to beg that she would send home when she returned. Mrs. Slack said “Of course,” some offense, but when Peter was seen it was not to bring back those cles. What he wanted was the carriage and a market basket. Christmas time came and with it for a party. The Slacks so hoped all come and enjoy themselves. Having accepted what was more ral than to take an interest » the ceedings—to lend sugar arid freezer, butter, and the egg-beater, cut-glass goblets and the best table-cloths, the spice-box entire, and lots of things? Finally Mrs. Slack, wMa gown tucked up and her eyes xan it to sax that they thought a SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY, AUGUST 5, 1880. be nice and could Mrs. Pepper the piano for one evening? “There’s nobody to move it,” said Pepper, rejoiced to have an excuse "I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Slack laughed and went to tho Fonr big laborers appeared and without any preliminary directing shouldered the instrument and lugged it away. They bumped it against railings and fairly tumbled it down in a plowed field before they finished their mission, but by main Strength they got it at last to the Slack’s door and Mrs. Slack took her leave, carrying the piano stool and cloth herself. The appearance of her beloved piano gave Mrs. Pepper a great deal of unhap¬ piness that evening. It had a deep scratch on tho cover and one of tho keys wouldn’t lift, However, she played and sets for the lancers most of the evening, and as the company went in to supper in relays—old folks first and young folks last, as Mrs. Slack said—she found very little left but a cup of coffee and a turkey-bone when her duties were But there is an end to everything. day she saw Mrs. Slack driving up road in tho minister’s new buggy. was wearing the pretty mantilla slit borrowed of her. With her usual lit¬ giggle she stopped at the garden gate. Mr. Pepper had taken a holiday and lying in the hammock reading. His had her sewing under the oak trees was extremely happy and comforta¬ If Mrs. Sleek had come to ask her drive she had resolved not to go. She say: “My husband has so few I cannot leave home to-day.” But Mrs. Slack did no such tiling. “You deer, good soul!” she cried, as as she was within speaking distance, “I came to borrow your husband.” “Borrow what l" ejacalated Mrs. Pep. “Your husband,” said Mrs. Slack, “Slack’s in New York; I am going to a picnic; I want an escort and some one drive. May I have him?” “You ought to ask Mr. Pepper him¬ self,” said Mrs. Peppor, very coldly. “I shan’t,” said Mrs. Slack, playfully, “I came to borrow him of you. You’ll lend him, won’t you? and I shall toll every one that dear, good angel, Mrs. lent me her husband.-” “You insist I shall answer,Mrs. Slack,” Pepper answered. “Yes,” lisped Mrs. Slack, “you’llilend won’t you?” “No!” said Mrs. Pepper in a wry de¬ cided tone, “I am afraid I shouldn’t gel him back. I let you have my piano. That hasn’t been returned. My water¬ proof—where is that? My bale’s car¬ riage—your baby takes air in it now. My cutting-board and scissors, my roll¬ ing-pin, an 1 all the rest, I haven’t seen. But I promised to cleave unto my hus¬ band till death doos us part! You surely never would return him!” “Oh! oh! oh!” screamed Mrs. Slack, turning pink. “You wicked woman! You mean thing! You shall have all your horrid things back. Do you want your spoonful of salt, too, you mean, mean wretch?” Then, tearing the mantilla from her shoulders, she threw it tot Mr. Pepper’s head as he struggled from the hammock and drove away. She borrowed a phawl from the clergy¬ man's wife and went to thcipicnic with her eldest boy as escort. Before her return Mrs. Pepper had proceeded to her neighbor’s house and collected her goods and chattels. The piano was out of tune and scratch¬ ed; onions had been kept in the ice¬ cream freezer, and the mantle had .a grease-spot on one shoulder; the child¬ ren had cut a game on the lap-board, and it was evident Mr. Slack had whipped them with the egg-beater. The baby carriage had been used to carry char¬ coal home, and the points of the scissors were gone. So was Mrs. Slack’s love. She goes about abusing Mrs. Pepper as the meanest and most jealous thing she ever knew. Knew the Deep IMuces, A passenger said to the pilot of steamboat: “You have been a long time, I suppose, at this business?” “Yes,” answered the pilot, “upwards of twenty years.” “You kuow, then,” pursued tho pas¬ senger, “every rock and shoal?” “ Not by a long way, ” was the an¬ swer, “but I know where the deep water is.” Another Match Spoiled. They were looking over her family al bum, Birdie and her Harold, when they came to a portrait of an aged gentleman, ‘‘Who is that old baboon?” asked Har °^ “Why, replied Birdie, shutting up tho book angrily, “You don’t think grandpa looks like a baboon, d O you, Harold?”— New York Graphic " A PILOT’S LIFE Dangers of tho Man who Guides Ships to Harbor. Qualified Seamon who aro Invested with Groat Responsibility. Whether there be dangers in tho soa, iky or mr, the perilous nature of a pilot’s duties makes it imperative that he meet it with a cheerful alacrity, for the esprit du corps existing in the guild is imperious in its influence. Cast among the broth¬ erhood the pilot must not lose, or else he is indeed a ruined man. Except in the matter of discipline, full command of the vessel is vested in the pilot. His respon¬ sibility is great; the general rule being that no owner or master of a ship is an¬ swerable to and other person for any loss or damage occasioned by the fault or incompeteucy of a qualified pilot acting in charge of the ship when she is within the district of the pilot and when his employment is compulsory; though the presence of a pilot does not absolve a master from the consequences of any in¬ jury that may be caused by his own care¬ lessness or ignorance. He must be ready at call, and under all circumstances, to face alike the winter’s cold, blinding sleet and the summer’s heat, the storm and the sunshine; and blow high or low, in fair weather or in foul, tho pilot must be at his statiofi to guide safely all in¬ And in Boston Bay this is particularly true. Said a man who has lived all his life on Capofood to a writer in the Bos¬ ton Record -. 1,1 “We have had piled up on the shore during the past 100 days many vessels which are a total loss. The men who navigated them were saved, thanks to the gallantry of the life saving force, but thousands of dollars worth of prop¬ erty aro buried in tho sand. What the further losses will bo no man can tell, but we do know that unskillful seamanship and an imperfect knowledge of the coast is responsible for much of the loss. But while it is true that there lias been this large loss, hundreds of vessels have sailed safely by and have been brought to an¬ chor in a secure harbor. I have .not heard of « Tcwcfr^g a pilot on board, and I do not think 'here has been one.” It is perhaps needless to say that the pilot is a qualified seaman, thorough in all nautical accomplishments; for he can “hand, reef and steer,” navigate by sun, moon or star, and with tho “marks and deeps” of tho lead line, familiar to him as his own handwriting, he knows the intricacies and varying depths of the many channels. A technical knowledge of all rigs, too, is his, besides a sign manual by which he can make him&elf understood by sailors of all nations. How relieved in mind must be the mas¬ ter of a great ocean steamer, with hundreds of passengers and its precious freight, after battling with the stormy Atlantic for days, with scarcely a single peep at the sun, and in doubt about his reckoning and position, to see, away off shore, one of these littlo pilots vessels making her way towards him. Gallantly she holds her course, heeling and right ing, pitching and ascending, and as she moves up under the snug canvas, looking like a boxer stripped for the fight, there is seemingly a sentient power in her every motion. It is the skill and training of years that puts the little craft so easily within two cables’ length under the lee of the steamer. Now conies the crucial test, for the pilot must board the waiting craft. Tho agile crew must grasp the little boat from the deck, and poising it on the rail, in the very nick of time, launch it over into the seething foam alongside. In jumps the pilot and his two oarsmen and soon the tiny canoe can be seen—now poised in midair on an an¬ gry wave crest and anon deep in dangerous hollow, coming straight the ship. One misstroke, the weakening of a nerve, and the hardy fel¬ lows would be engulfed in the watery chasm with no stone to mark their graves. It is with delicate care and skill that frail craft is ranged alongside when a is thrown, by which, grasping with cles of steel, up the side the pilot springs, hand over hand, until he alights on deck. Had Tried Bolh W ays. “How can you tell whether pays?” a merchant was asked. “I tell that advertising pays by it, ’’lie replid. ‘ ‘I’ve tried it. Trade the tide of purchasers flows some way.’’“Suppose you should give up adver tising?” I should save up a big pile mon ey, but should lose a bigger pile, You must keep the boilers heated if want gt eam. If you bank your fires long, it takes times to start them up.” It was a Vassar graduate who wanted to know if the muzzle of a gun was to prevent it from going off prematurely, Bow the Indians Made Sugar. ’llipmas Conant, an old resident of writes to the Toronto Globe l Jesuit fathers, who were the first men in this country among the In¬ tell rath.it the Indians made sug¬ regularly every spring by tapping tho ! maple. At this time the Indians not have iron kettles for boiling tho sap in. Then it becomes a curious question how they did manage to boil down the succulent juice without a kettle ! to boil it in. They tapped the trees with their tomahawks, and inserted |» spile in the incision to conduct the sap *from the trees to the vessel beneath. Their spilo was a piece of dry pine or cedar wood, grooved on its upper side for the sap to <3 iv down. No doubt this process was extremely chide, still, with all its crudi¬ ties, they succeeded iu producing a con¬ siderable quantity of sugar each spring. Their buckets were made by taking a roll of birch bark and sewing up the ends with deer sinews or roots. Thus they got a vessel capable of holding a pailful, and no doubt the sap caught in such ves¬ sels was just as sweet as that which we now gather in our bright tin pails at far greater expense and trouble. Gath¬ ering tho sap from the birchen buckets, it was carried by the original red man to the boiling-place. At this boiling-placo was a largo caldron made of largo sheets of birch baric. Beside the caldron a tiro was built, and in this fire was placed a lot of stones. As soon as the stones be¬ came heated to a red heat they wero dropped into flic birchen caldron, previ ously filltfd with sap. By taking out tho cooled stlmos and putting in more hot ones, and repeating tile process, even slow as it was, they got the sap to boil fng. Once.’got to boiling, by reheating the extracted stones, they kept up the boiling mid so contiuuod the process, un til after a time they got the sap boiled down, mid sugar was tho result. That was making sugar without tho aid of a kettle, and. no doubt many will doubt the accuracy of the statement. It is a positive fact, for my forefathers came to this province in tho last century have handed clown in family the styey cy Dio process just ns I ‘ ******* . rt ’ Indcod > ^ , wcro nesses of the process themselves. With the advent of settlers of course the Indi¬ an soon learned better, and traded his furs with the fur-dealer for iron kettles, and then began making sugar much as the white man does now. The Horseback Cure. There is a saying among the Russians that a man who is fond of his horse will not grow old early. Tho Arab and tho G'ossack are examples of the truth of the proverb. They genendly live long, en¬ joy robust health and have no use for liver pads and blue pills. That vigorous octogenarian, David Dudley Field, tells us that he attributes his remarkably vi¬ tality to the habit of horseback riding, and if the truth were known, it would he doubtless appear that our sturdiest old men are those who have been fond of tho saddle. Tlie taste for equestrian sports and exercise whidr has lately made such progress in Brooklyn is, therefore, a hopeful and healthful sign. It is not a mere freak of fashion, but a develop¬ ment in the direction of rational enjoy¬ ment and an assurance that the rising generation will be less of an indoor and more of an outdoor people. It means less headache hereafter, 1 letter appetites, stronger Jungs, rosier cheeks, brighter eyes, sounder sleep, happier spirits, and a total oblivion of that organ which, ac¬ cording to Sidney Smith, keeps men a good deal lower than the angels—the liver .—Brooklyn Eagle A Wonderful Toy. A wonderful toy has been on private exhibition in Paris. Fancy seven life sized kittens covered with real skin, but with eyes of emerald set in white enamel, and playing upon a flute, a zithern, a violin, a drum, a harp, a cornet and an accordion, all perfectly harmonized and going through the most striking airs of the new and successful comic operas! The unseen mechanism is of tlie same kind as that of a musical box, and the sounds given forth are most delightful, so that the owner of this remarkable toy can have a most agreeable concert at any time by touching certain springs and winding them up. He Was Too Sociable. Old Bloonose—By tho way, Jane, what has become of Mr. Litewaite? He used to be a frequent visitor. Jane (shortly)—I am afraid that ho wasn’t treated very well when he did call. Bloonose—What! Jane, I’m surprised! There wasn't a night he called to see you that I didn’t go into the parlor and smoke my oid clay pipe for hours, just as sociable as if I’d known him for years.— Call. Vol. VI. Hew Series. NO. 2 G. Has Been There.) “I was a tramp for several years/’ wild A buggy washer at one of the livery sta-' hies tho other day, “and I might have been on tho road yet hut for the circum¬ stance which deprived mo of this left leg at tho knee. A tramp with a wooden leg would be nowhere, while I get around the stables at a fair gait.” “What Wits the circumstances?” “Well, seven or eight of us were tramping together through the oil regions of Pennsylvania, and one day one of the gang stole a can out of a shed in the woods. It contained nitroglycerine, but none of us knew the article then. Ho carried it for about an hour, when wo nil bunked down in the shade for a noon day nap. Some of us were half asleep, and we were all packed together under one tree, when the man picked up a stone and began hammering at the can. I was looking at him out of one eye, and I was wondering whether the can held oil or lard, when all at once the vaults of Heaven fell ‘to earth with a crash. Half au hour later, when I came to, I was lying in the bushes 1300 feet from the tree, and my foot, ankle and leg wero mass of pulii.” “There had been an explosion?” “You bet! There was a hole in ground into which you could dumped a cottage, and ttio big tree a heap of kindling-wood. Out of eight of us five could not he found; I suffered Die least injury of any of wounded. All that was gathered gether to represent five men wore bits of clothing and leather—not two quarts. That was a corker on me. i Whenever I see a stray can lying I lift my hat, take a circle to the right j left, and pensively observe: ‘Not to-day, thank you—I’ve been there!’ Detroit Free Press. The Arabian Horse. Arabian horses are being imported into America to a slight extent of recent years. Messenger, the famous old stallion from whom our American trotting stock is all descended, had a largo strain of Arabian blood in him. Arabian stallions have been brought to this country from time to timo as pres¬ ents to public men and others. But it is doubtful if a full-blooded Arabian marc was ever in the United States. They ore valued more highly than the stallions, and not allowed to leave the country. There are six distinct families of horses in Arabia, and tho pedigree of some of them runs back unmistakably for tivo hundred years. They come of old families. These are the horses for swiftness and endurance. They aro not draught horses, but in the two qualities named they excel all other breeds in the world. They have delicate necks and fine, small, straight limbs, flashing eyes and a strong, flowing mane and tail. They are not large, fifteen and a half hands being an unusual height. The back is not nrehed much, tho tail is high set, and the hoofs are always small, black and very tough. Centuries of pounding over the sands of tlie desert have made them so. They have small ears and powerful chest, from which they get their great endurance. They aro distinguished for soundness of wind and limb, though their high-bred, far-off cousin, tho Kentucky horse, of late years seems to bo developing a lack of hardiness. The Arabian horse is noted, too, for its gentle temper and intelligence. Its mas¬ ter, the Arab, says the horse is Allah’s best gift to man. Quite Sane. Harry—I hear that you have lost your father. Allow me to express my sympa¬ thy. Jack (with a sigh)—Thank you. Yes, he has gone; but the event was expected for a long time, and the blow was con¬ sequently less severe than if it had not been looked for. II.—His property was large? J.—Yes; something like a quarter of a million. II.—I heard that his intellect, owing to his illness, was somewhat feeble dur¬ ing his latter years. Is there any prop ability of the will being contested. J.—No, father was quite sane when he made his will, lie left everything to me.—Boston Courier. Warned. “I tell you, it’s a great thing to have a girl who knows enough to warn a fel¬ low of his danger.” “Have you?” inquired one of the com¬ pany. “Yes, indeed; Julia’s father and moth¬ er were laying for me tho other night, when she heard my tap at the window, and what do you suppose that girl did?’ “Can’t think.” “She just sat down to the piano, and sang the insides out of ‘Old Folks at Home.’ You can just bet I didn’t call that evening.” PO)r Horning in the Harbor. Fair moririnp w an the harbor, And morning on the bay, Aixi th» bote that were lying at anchor Mow siii‘titty n^oal away. No wind in thestf.'Wo boar them; — _ They drift with til.'*tide afar, f Till they enter the outer harbor And silently cross the hart It may be the skipper is sleeping, E j Ho sits at the rudder so still; It may be tbo skipper is thinking Of his young wife on the hill. She wastes no moment in sighing; With day her labors begin, Wide open she flings tin* shutters To lot the still sunshine in. She ptuisqs only^ui instant To look at the steel-gray dew, From that to the rose bush glances, Where it sparkles fresh and now. And down the slope to the harbor, And over the harbor afar; For her dear little heart with the skipper Is just now crossing the bar, \ - “God bless her!’’ the skipper is saying, “God bless him!” the wife returns, Thus each for the other is praying, While ouch lor tho other yearns. —James Herbert Morse. HUMOROUS. Plan facts—Western prairies. The way of the world—Round its axis. Tho original boy cot—Cains littlo crib. A temperance movement—Turning on the water. It is a wise railroad stock that knows its own par. A cannibal is believed to bo very fond of. Ilia-fellow men. Professor-—Which teeth comes last ? Pupil.—the false ones,' sir. A porous plaster lias been boycotted, but the proprietors resolve to stick. A six-year-old child being asked, “What is a rope ?” replied, “A fat string.” The man with a No. 15 neck and a No. 14 collar has a hard struggle to make both ends meet. Dun (drawing out a bill) : Excuse me, sir—-Perplexed debtor (hurrying away) ; Prfty v ,dun’t moution it. “Who should decide whan doctors disa¬ gree ?”. Wo don’t know who should, but wm know that the undertakers generally does. That new dictionary with 240,000 words is intended to provide a sufficient¬ ly large vocabulary with which to ad¬ dress the base ball umpires during a dispute. There is a slight difference between the dead beat and tho apprehended thief. One asks the bar to chargo the account, and the bar asks the other to account the charge. Professor at Columbia—“We cannot taste in the dark. Nature intends us to see our food.” Student—“How about a blind man’s dinner ?” Professor—“Na¬ ture has provided him with eyeteeth, sir.” ^ good deal is being said lately about tho ability of young wives to cook. The ability of young husbands to provide them with something to cook ought not to be entirely left out of tho question. When you seo a business man look melan¬ cholic, With haggard face and dull, complaining eyes, It’s not because of biliousness or colio ; The trouble is he doesn't advertise. N Tho Warlike Apache. A correspondent of the Chicago Inler Occan says: The Apache is not only the warlike of American Indians —and l do not except the U to ludians, the Sioux, nor the Comanches—but he is also most skilled in war. Trained to an which would be unattainable a more endurable country; with the of a hawk, the stealth of a coyote, courage of a tiger, and its mcrciless he is the Bedouin of the new world, lie has horses that will exist on a blade of grass to an acre, and will travel 110 miles in twenty-four hours thereby with¬ out falling dead on the homestretch. Ho knows every foot of his savage country better tlinn you know the interior of your parlor. He finds water and food where tho best of us would starve to death for the want of both. More than 100 different plants yield him intestinal revenue. He has fastnesses from which no force can dislodge him; and when you lay siege ho quietly slips out by some back door canon, and is off like thistle down on the wind. The daggerousness of an Indian is in inverse ratio to his food supply. Tho Apache, born to starvation, his whole life a constant fight to wrest a living from vixenish nature, as well as to wrest life from his neighbor, is whetted down to a ferocity of edge never reached by the In dian of a section where wood and water and facile game abound.
