Newspaper Page Text
NORTH GEORGIA TIMES
Wm. 0. MARTIN, Editor.
TheRosi Over (he Door.
A oottago, all ,‘kte l and furnished,
Stands daintily over the way,
And hero a young pair to housekeeping
Came promptly the first day of May
The place seemed to be home-like and cosy,
The sun shone bright on the floor,
Yet one dewy eve saw them planting
A rose to bloom over the door.
“But love,” they say, “flies out of the win¬
dow
When poverty enters the door.”
But against all trials and troubles
These two young hearts garnered full
store,
For when fell the hush of the twilight,
They whispered anew love’s sweet lore,
Wove closer tho bonds of affection,
’Neath roses that bloomed o’er the door.
And then the “dark days” closed around
them,
And poverty’s waves overbore;
To keep the dear home how they struggled,
Where roses bloomed over the door.
And now, all their “trial time” ended,
They dwell in th i sunlight onco more.
And love brightly gleams on the hearth¬
stone
Wheie roses bloom over the door.
Ye new-mated pairs who are building
Your home-nests, now heed, I implore
This lesson: That love lingers longest
Where roses bloom over the door.
So ye who connt homo more than shelter,
Plant, ere the bright spring-time is o’er—
To make home the brighter and dearer,
A rose to bloom over the door.
Vicks Magazine.*
THE ORPHANS.
“Marian, dear, how is tho morning;
fair or cloudy?” inquired Ethel Ray,
turning on tho invalid couch, where sho
lay during tho day as well ns at night.
“Dark and cloudy,” she replied, the
cold dreariness of the new day striking
a chill to her sensitive, heavily-burdened
heart. A tired, hopeless look swept over
her delicate, noble face, leaving a slight
droop at the corners of her mouth, a
shadow iu her eyes. Ethel saw tho ex¬
pression, and for a moment her own
grew less cheerful and bright.
“Never mind; there will be a rift in
the clouds by and by,” she said with re¬
newed hope.
“Iam glad you have such faith, pet,”
said Marian, still looking out on the
street.
A poor beggar crept feebly along, his
rags fluttering in the bitter wind; and in
pity for a lot sadder than her own, the
girl lost some of her discontent. She
turned from the window with a brighter
expression, and put on her hat and cloak
to start out on that weary round of mu¬
sic lessons, which were their support,
“Iam sorry to leave you, Ethel ; and
it will be late before I can get through.”
“ Do not fret about me, Maiian, Sirs.
O’Malley will come in and give me my
lunch, and a fresh glass of water, and I
have this beautiful lace to mend for Miss
Constantine, and that magazine you
brought me yesterday to read. Oh, I
shall bo fully occupied until your re
turn. ”
Well, well, it is comforting to have so
brave and busy a little sister at home. I
think of it often when I am out, and it
gives me courage,” said Marian, bending
over the couch with tender, misty eyes.
The cripplqd girl clasped the slender
hand caressmg her hair, and drew it
down against her cheek.
“Am I a gplp to you, Marian? Oh, that
es me happy! I lie here
such a heldfess, useless creature; some¬
times I liajfc feared that I was only a
l^jfden tojyou.”
“Neveathink of that again, dear one
—never, i If it were not for you-”
She broke off, and stooping kissed the
sweet, pale face resting on the pillow';
but when she would have moved away,
Ethel held her a moment longer.
“Marian, darling, do not lose your
faith and hope. There will be clear sun¬
shine after a while, and all these dark
clouds will vanish.”
“I will try to think so," she replied,
with a smile—a smile that vanished the
moment she left her sister’s presence, and
memory began to bring up one by one
the events of the two years just passed.
The girls had been left orphans at an
early age, but with property sufficient to
supply all they could ever need, not only
of necessities, but even luxuries. Their
guardian controlled and managed the
money, and they lived in his house,
finder • the care of his good-hearted
maiden sister. Ethel had always been
lame and delicate, but Marian went out
into th« world, seeing and enjoying its
beauties and pleasures.
Walking swiftly along to give her first
music lesson, she drew a sharp breath of
anguish, as memory too faithfully recalled
all the glory and happiness of a tour in
Italy with a party of friends, just before
the downfall of fortune. At the very
outset, they met Mark Turner, handsome,
intelligent, and, tp the young girl, a very
kirfg among men. "r^o joined the party,
and singled her out as the object* of his
attentions. The router they travelled liji
SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY. OCTOBER 21, 1886.
out all that was beautiful and interesting.
It was a golden season, and, the girl’s
heart surrendered in spite of womanly
pride and reluctance. But she had
no cause to feel shame, or to believe her
love unsought for.
One mellow, moonlit night, in an old
Neapolitan garden, he stretched out his
hand to her with sudden, passionate
words of love ; and so eloquently did he
plead for the sweet gift of her future lifo
that she could not withhold the promise
to be his wifj.
“You shall never regret it 1 You
shall be happy!" he cried with a lover’s
confidence.
“I am happy now!" she whispered,
flushed and shy, but radiant.
They wandered along among the flow¬
ers, feeling that heaven lay about them;
but the next morning the girl received
bad news from home. She only made
out clearly that her presence was needed,
and with only one regretful sigh for the
bright dreams she had cherished, she
began preparations to return to England.
Turner earnestly begged to be allowed
to accompany her, but she gently re¬
fused.
“I shall come in a few weeks, whether
you send for mo or not. Wc must finish
this interrupted tour together, Marian,”
ho suggested.
She returned homo to find their guar¬
dian dead, and their fortune gone —
swept away in some ill-advised specula¬
tion. The maiden lady sought a home
With relatives, and Marian Ray found
herself among the world's workers, and
with a helpless invalid to take care of.
Helpless, did wc say ? Nay, she was
tho only hope and comfort of poor Mari¬
an’s heart; for her handsome, wealthy
lover came not, and the letter she wrote
to him explaining their reverses of for¬
tune remained unanswered. She tried
to think of him with contempt; to hold
the love that failed in the hour of her
bitterest need as valueless; but she only
succeeded in tormenting her own faithful
loving heart, which, in spite of pride and
reason, clung to that short, sweet ro¬
mance with a hold death alone could
break.
All day she walked from house to
house, through the bitter cold, while
the fogs hung dull and heavy over the
metropolis.
It was dark when sho reached home,
and hurrying eagerly up-stairs, she
pushed open the door, anxious to be
with her sister as soon as possible. They
wero careful withfuel, with everything;
necessity forced them to study economy,
and Marian expected to find the room in
darkness, only a scanty handful of coal
in the grate. She entered to find a glow¬
ing fire, and the table set with daintiess,
while the little tea-kettle steamed merri¬
ly on the hob.
“Ethel!” she cried, hastily throwing
off her hat and cloak, and turning
towards her sister’s bed:
“Oh, Marian, sister 1” cried the invalid,
in a voice trembling with strange emo¬
tion.
Then Marian felt her heart leap in a
suffocating throb of pain and rapture, for
out of the semi-darkness of the corner
Mark Turner advanced, with outstretch¬
ed hands to meet her.
“Marian, havo you no welcomo for
me?”
A chilling remembrance of all his
silence and neglect swept over her, and
pride roso in arms.
‘ Certainly, I—I welcome you, Mr.
Turner,” she said, stiffly, stepping back
a little.
“What! have you forgotten?” ho
cried, in keenest disappointment.
“No, sir; it is because I remember,
that I can give you no friendlier greet¬
ing. I wonder that you can expect it, after
such long neglect and coldness. I can¬
not pass over such slights.”
“But Marian, he did not get your let¬
ter ; and he could not come when he in¬
tended, for a hurt received among tho
Alps kept him a prisoner for several
weeks, and then he had to search and
search, and hasjustfound us," said Ethel,
half raising herself up, the criimson fire¬
light giving even her pale face d roseate
tint.
Marian’s face changed, and her eyes
mutely questioned her lover’s.
“It is all true. Could you believe 1
loved you so lightly !” he murmured.
And this time she did not shrink back
when be approached, but gave him the
welcome he craved.
Ethel fell softly back among' her pil¬
lows, her delicate hands clasped, her eyes
radiant.
The reader een readily supply the
sequel .—Amy .Wiring.
Esther—“No, sir, it shan’t be said of
me that I wanted my girls to get spliced
sto bad that I hacLto go out and lasso ’em,
and bring the yQftng,mep*in.< One of the
[girls—“No, fathert Nobly Said! Give
1 me tae
WITH THE ALABAMA
A New Story of the Confed¬
erate Cruiser.
One of Her Grew Tells How She Once
Lost a Rich Yankee Frize.
“Mastcr’s Mate” tells the following
story of his vessel, the Confederate
cruiser Alabama, iu the Detroit Free
Press :—
Iu 1863, as the Confederate cruiser
left Bahia for Cape Town to prey upon
Federal commerce wherever found, she
captured tho Justina only a few miles
east of the port mentioned. Then she
headed to the south and piekod up
the Jabez Snow, tho Amazonian, tho
Talisman and tho Conrad in succession
on that course. When below Rio
Janeiro and ready to shape her course to
the east, she picked up the Anna
Schmidt, and four days later, the Ex¬
press. From that point we made the
long voyage to the Cape without secur¬
ing another victim, though wc sighted
several which escaped us. My story has
to do with one of the latter incidents.
One afternoon, as wo were holding our
course under sail, with the fires banked
and steam down, a sail was sighted to
the north. After a timo sho was made
out to be a large ship, and was holding
her course for tho Cape. For a
time some of the officers held that
was English, and as we were both gradu¬
ally nearing each other, the engineer re¬
ceived no orders to get up steam.
was a good sea on, and the promise of
nasty night, when, an hour before
down, the two crafts, running the
of a triangle, as it were,
each other within about two m^es.
Then we hoisted the United
flag, although by this time it was
known that she was American. After
few minutes the ball was run up to
masthead and broke away to unfurl
old stars and stripes. We had
ourselves believe that we hated the
flag, but when wo saw it given to
breeze above the swelling sails of a
clipper out there on the broad Atlantic,
we men felt like cheering.
Down camo the flag of deceit from
mast-head, and up went the flag of
Southern Confederacy in its place.
must have been a great surprise to
Yankee, and upon my word I felt
at the thought of such a noble craft
ing given over to the flames. The
was from the northwest, and breezing
stronger all the time. We cast loose
gun and fired a shot across the
course, and according to the usual
of things she should have heaved to and
submitted to the inevitable. We all
looked for such action, especially as we
were now not over a mile apart and she
well under our guns. There was some¬
thing like a flutter of excitement aboard
of her for a moment, and then her nose
pointed up to the north, her men
swarmed aloft, and in five minutes she
was a pyramid of canvas and walking off
like a race horso. During
this interval wo had been beat¬
ing to quarters and casting loose the
guns, and as it was seen that she meant to
run away from us we opened on her with
everything that would bear. She was
now almost stern-on to us, and in a
raking position, but we soon found that
tho heavy sea running materially inter¬
fered with our gunnery. Sho had no
doubt calculated on this, and though
some of our shots gave her a close shave,
she gave her whole attention to getting
away. We soon saw that she could out¬
sail us, and orders were given to get up
steam. We kept pegging away at her in
hopes to cripple her aloft, but beforo we
had accomplished anything darkness
came down. Wc sent men aloft with
glasses to keep her in sight, and reserved
our ammunition until we should get to
close quarters. We clapped on all the
canvas we could carry, and after a time
had steam to help us along, but before
the propellei had made a revolution the
men aloft had reported that the clipper
was out of sight.
* Our only recourse was to follow to the
northeast in hopes of picking her up
when daylight came, but when day
broke after a long and weary night the
ocean was clear of sail. The day we
reached Cape Town we saw our fugitive
safely anchored in the harbor. Two or
three days later, when I was on shore
leave, Iran across some of her crew, and
was told by them that as soon as she
was beyond our sight she turned on her
heel and ran to the south, thus crossing
our, bows and making every yard we run
take us farther away from her. At
midnight she boro to the East again, and
was in Cape Town four days ahead of
^
“Shows the breadth of the man”—his
diyton Fr< ■m.
A Priuoe of t'anchniPiii
The following is from a Long Branch
letter to the New York Herald : The
American coachman, whatever the pla> e
of his nativity, is the best paid man of
his class in the world. His wages rango
from $25 to $80 per month and “found."
The average is probably about $40. The
meaning of the word “found” in the
contract depends largely upon the liber¬
ality of the employer. Often it extends
to the entire length of his good nature as
well. F>r example, one case was dis¬
covered that caused surprise. This man
occupied wilh a large corner room, furnished
a comfortable spring bed, a piano
and several easy chairs, nis half dozen
pairs of boots and shoes were placed out¬
side the door at night to be blackened,
and a barber came to his room every
morning to shave his face. He only
“overlooked” the grooming of the six
horses in his care. The work was done
by menials in the stables, whom he paid
out of his allowance. lie affected hot
sea-water baths, and had his clothing
sent in a hamper once a week to a New
York laundry—“just like the family.”
When a party of the proper kind could
lie made up be had his little rubber at
whist or trifled with “that blarstod
American game of poker.” Now that he
could not form a combination with tho
butler at the mansion in town to sample
his master’s wines and liquors, he drank
rather cheaper claret—-but less of it. The
moment he returnecT from a drive he
changed his clothes lend laid aside the
implements knew tho horses of his occupation. \cared When he
were for he lit a
cigar and strolled doVvn to see Mr.
Drexel’s, Mr. Seligman’s, \Mr. Curtis’ or
Mr. Kennedy’s men. In nearly every
case was telephonic communiaation with
these friends possible, and the always
availtd himself of the latest,/ndvanees of
science. Another idea Q>i his was nev r
to place 'himself beyond reach by
same means. Therefore he confined
intercourse to such mend a as had
phones in their stablps.
Sand Avalanches.
^ On tho south shore of the Baltic tho
sins of reckless forefathers are
cruelly visited upon their dccendants.
Two hundred years ago the coasts of
Prussia were defended by a bulwark of
magnificent beech forests that resisted
tho inroads of floods and dunes, but
about the timo of the Great Elector
work of devastation began and continued
until some ten thousand square miles
woodlands had been turned into
sandhills. Now nature is getting her
revenge. Year after year the rains and
strong floods have washed out the re¬
maining vegetable film of those hills,
leaving nothing but sand and gravel,
which gradually accummulated in tower¬
ing dunes and at last invaded the land¬
ward settlements with perfect avalanche
of drift sand. Seen from the village of
Schwarzort, fifty miles northeast of
Koenigsbcrg, the destruction-dealing
sand-ridge looms up to a height of 120
feet, naked and steep, ever rising by ad¬
ditional deposits brought in by the sand¬
laden sea-storms, and ever threatening
to discharge those deposits upon the
southern valleys. The fisher-hamlets
of Atnegein and Karwaiten were literal¬
ly submerged by a single storm, and the
little town of Pillkuppen had twice to
be moved, with all its buildings and
fences. The remaining vestiges of the
ancient woodlands are unable to stay the
mischief. A fine forest near Schwarzort
has been turned into a sand-bank,
crowned by the withered tops of beech
trees, which a year’s work of the entire
coast population would fail to rescue
from their sand-grave.— Dr. FeU* L.
O'Swald.
Big Hailstones.
After the hailstorm of the other evou
ing a seventy-niucr met Amos Stock at
the St. James. “Biggest hailstones I
ever saw," said the friend. “Oh, non¬
sense,” said the bluff Amos; “if you
hadn’t mentioned it I wouldn’t have
known we had any hail. Just a little
frozen rain—that’s all.” “You have
seen larger hailstones?” asked the
seventy-niner. “Look herel in ’58,
right here in Denver, over there at that
old house of mine—it was in the country
then—I have seen the hail so thick that
the ground was not visible in any direc¬
tion, and as for size, I used two of the
hailstones for a weight on my front gats
for over two weeks after the stosml”—
Denver News.
A Puzzled City Maiden.
A little city maiden, on a visit to her
uncle’s farm, saw a threshing-machine in
operation for the first time.
“Oh, mamma!” cried she, rushing
into tho house all out of breath, “there’s
something out in Uncle Joe’s bam with
two horses in it, and they keep going
.
and going, and never get anywhere.”—
Ukutw*
Vol. VI. NeO? Series. NO. 37.
Facts About Life Preservers.
“Is it not strange that with so many
inventions constantly being made, the
cork life preserver still re
mains in vogue?” said a captain of a
steamer to a New York Mail and Express
reporter.
“Are they not good enough, captain?”
“Oh, yes. I believe they answer bct>
ter than anything yet invented for using
quickly in case of accident. Although
it is simple enough to strap a life-pre
server on, yet many people are frequently
drowned by putting them on in a loose
way and getting their feet turned to the
air instead of their heads. Then, too, in
a general panic the preservers are often
tied or buckled carelessly, and a few
waves soon knock them off. The india
rubber suits cannot be put on so quickly.
That is one drawback to them. What
good would a rubber suit do a man in
mid-ocean unless he has nerve and pluck
like Boynton and those professional swim¬
mers? Think of a lady incased in a rub¬
ber armor tossing about in mid-ocean.
She would soon die from fright. Sailors
and seamen would be at home perhaps
in rubber life-preservers, and could pad¬
dle about and keep up their spirits. But
in the hurry of leaving the ship after a
collision, for instance, who would havo
time to put on and inflate the rubber life
preservers? Tho moment an accident
occurs, confusion and panic generally
follow, especially among the passengers.
As a rule the departure from the ship is a
rush and deuce take the hindermost.
Hence a life-preserver must be easily put
on and have no complications whatever.
They would be perfectly useless other¬
wise. I havo thought of all kinds of
new-fangled life-preservers, but none are
worthy of adoption, or rather they are
impracticable. My idea onco was to
have a good-sized half-barrel, with straps
so placed that a person could easily
buckle himself to it in tho water. Then
on the inside of tho barrel would bo a
little fresh water and something to eat.
By taking out a plug or a slide tho food
could bo reached. I have found nearly
everything impracticable. Presence
mind in tho face of danger is the groatost
life-preserver a person can possess.
Without this coolness the best
is of little avail.”
Bread, from Bark.
In the last century, when tho wood
trade of tho Baltic was confined to tho
Russian ports, the now thriving towns
in the Gulf of Bothnia were poor fishing
villages, and the bread of the people was
commenly made from the inner bark of
the fir-tree. The'r staple grain was oats
and rye; but in timo of scarcity, bark
bread was used; at other times, bark
meal was mixed with corn-meal, as a
matter of economy.
Until recently, the making of bark
bread from the fir-tree was common in
the north of Sweden and Norway, and in
the northwestern parts of Finland. The
bark was stripped from tho trees in the
spring, the only time of the year it is
easily removable; that of the trunk of
large trees was most preferred, as it was
less strong than the bark of small trees
or branches. Linnaeus, the great natural¬
ist, when passing through the woods of
Helsingland, in Sweden, in 1732, says;
“The common and spruce firs grow here
to a very large size. Tho inhabitants
had stripped almost every tree of
bark." The outer or hard scaly bark
was carefully removed, as the inner bark
was the only part required. The bark
was then dried in the sun, and stored
winter use, a season that embraces
or seven months of the year. Prepara¬
tory to grinding, the bark was rendered
friable, thick, and porous by
warmed over a slow fire. It was then
part given to thgir swine in a granulated
form, by way of economizing corn,
swine by this food being rendered ex¬
tremely fat. Other parts were cut up ob¬
liquely, and given to their cows, goats,
and sheep. When ground, this
meal, qs it was called, was stored in bar¬
rels.— Chambers' Journal.
A Revengeful Artist.
Dauber, the artist, has a private grudge
against Bondclipper, the banker. Con¬
versing with a friend on this subject,
Dauber remarked:
“I’d like to play him a trick that
would make him a perpetual object of
ridicule.”
“I’ll tell you how you can do it.”
“How?”
“Paint his portrait. That will make
him squirm. ”— Siftings.
Proverb vs. Proverb.
Father—“I wish, John, you could be
contented to settle down and live like
other people,, and not go roving all over
tho country. You must remember that
‘rollingstone gathers no moss.’”
Son—“True enough. Governor, but 'a
setting hen never gets fat,’ Free
Prm.
•
A Simple Smig.
“If I could stand,” the poet said,
“Upon yon mountain’s distant crest,
And catch the songs from overhead,
My soul no more wou.d tAgh for rest.*
He stood upon the lonely heighTt.
And hoard the singing of the spheres;
He caught the music in its flight.
And sent it ringing down the years.
But no one listened to the strain
That echoed f om the far-away;
“A n»f” be cried, “my toil is vain,
Too grand these songs for such as they."
And then he sjiftly touched his lyre.
And sang a eon” so wild and sweet,
Of bleeding hop • a id dead desire—
And lo! the world was at hi< feet.
—James C. Rodcwell in tile Current
HUMOROUS.
No rogue e’er felt such terror of th«f
law as does a nma whoso wife knows how
to jaw.
Why is an old war horse like a good
book-keeper? Becauso he is a famous
charger.
Why is a man who can’t learn by ex¬
like a laurel? Because he is an
evergreen.
A traveller recently returned from
Alaska tells of a bear being killed by
mosquitoes.
Fish is good brain-food, exoept in in¬
when it doesn’t find anything to
assimilate with.
Some men are like toads—you have to
poke them with a stick before they moke
their biggest jump.
An astronomer now states that the
is on fire. This is in rebuttal of
the green-cheese theory.
The greatest mental effort that a dude
makes is when ho has to determine
whether to take out his cane or his um¬
brella.
The mule has tho full allowance of
vertebrae in the backbone. There are
times when it has more than a full allow¬
ance of bray.
Watering place girls—those on their
ninth annual summer resort tour, and
still unmarried—are very fond of wit¬
nessing match games.
When is it that a man feels at home
and yet doesn’t feel at home? When he
gets in at 2 a. m. and has to grope along
the wall to find the stairs.
A little gir. of three years, noticing the
lightning for the first time, came rushing
to her mamma, crying; “Oh, mamma,
did you see the sun flying by?”
There don’t seem to be much use for
muffs in this sort of weather, but, ac¬
cording to all reports, the base-ball
players have them in abundance.
Do not laugh at the gentleman with
the bare poll, my son. It is not nearly
so bad to have a head that is bald on
outside as to have a head that is bald
the inside.
A Western firm guarantees a wife to
every man who purchases of it a suit of
clothes, and it guarantees fits. If you
don’t get them in the clothes you'll get
’em from the wife.
Annie and Emily wero enjoying their
first bath in the glorious surf at Old
Orchard. It began to rain while they
were in the water. Emily started lo
wade ashore. “Where are you going I"
asked Annie. “After my rubbers,” said
Emily.
He Settled the Business Thoroughly.
McCoy, when he came to Scott coun¬
ty, went to work for a farmer named
Hitt, who had a very charming daugh¬
ter Emma. A young man whom Farmer
Hitt had repeatedly driven from the
place continued to come around, paying
his addresses to the daughter, until
finally the farmer, despairing of keeping
him away by any milder means, hired
McCoy to thrash him every time he came
near. Once or twice, or may be more,
the young man came, saw the girl, took
his thrashing, and departed. But one
day there came the end of this sort of
thing. McCoy, returning from town,
where he had gone as driver and escort
for the daughter, approached the father,
saying:
“Well, Mr. Hitt, I’ve settled this busi¬
ness of that young fellow’s coming
around here to see Em.”
“What do you mean*" asked tho
farmer.
“I mean that he won’t come any more,
an’ you can bet on it”
“Why, Mac, you haven’t killed him,
have you?” asked the farmer, fearfully.
“No. Better than that"
“What then?”
“I’ve married Em.”
The old farmer flew into a dreadful
rage, but McCoy had the girl, and there
was no getting her away from him, so
Farmer Hitt, like a sensible man, made
the most of it and gave his son-ih-law a
piece of land, which he is now tilling,
while “Em” minds the babies like a duti¬
ful wife .—Chicago Newt.