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About North Georgia times. (Spring Place, Ga.) 1879-1891 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 24, 1887)
NORTH GEORGIA TIMES. VoL VII. New Series. A Woman’* Portraf*. Sriaiatn^ (he to; God reads bar so, 'And deeds of week-day holiness Fall from her noiseless as the anow. For has she ever chanced to know ^hat aught were easier than to blast f'be is meet fair, and thereunto Her life doth rightly harmonise; . Feeling or thought that was not true Ne'er made less beautiful the blue, "Unclouded heaven of her eyes. She is a woman; one in whom The spring time of her childish years Hath never lost its fresh perfume. Though knowing well that life hath room For many blights and many tears. —James Bussell Lowell. BEHIND THE COUNTER. “My first day at the store 1” said Car¬ ry Wal iugford, with a curious thrill through her, as if an ice cold stream were trickling down the line of her spi¬ nal column. “Oh, I wish I were a rich S*H, an.l didn’t have to work!” “Work is honorable, my chiid,” said old Unc’C Wolsey, who, with his specta¬ cles on his nose was trying ft) spell ^through daily the illegible paragraphs of {hat the pap.-r, muttering to himself ’'either they didn’t print ns good os they used to, or else his old eyesight was fail¬ ing-’’ "Yes, I know," fluttered Carry; “but —hut I’m very willing that someone else should have the honor this time.” Uncle Wolsey turned h‘is glasses with inild reproach upon his niece’s pink-and white balsam of a face. “I wish I could be ns brave as you, Uncle Wolsey!” said Carry, as she tied the crimson strings of her little capote under her round chin. Old Wolsey Wallingford had sheltered his little pet lamb by his hearth-fold all her lifetime until now. He was a jewel¬ er by trade, and he had kept his unpre¬ tending store open ns long as possible; But the tide of fashion went by, and left him stranded on the unfrequented side street, where the Bign of the tarnished silver watch attracted no further atten¬ tion. And one day, when he had set all day in the window with his magnifying-glassi working at some impossible ol 1 time¬ piece, whose owner had died and never .cailettofcr it, the twilight crept darkly over his eyesight tfnd his heart. He laid down his tools. ; “All day long,” said he, “and never a customer! Wcll-a-day 1 it is time for tho old man to shut up his store at last.” He went out and put up the wooden shutters, with a heart that was heavier thnn they, and frem that time thence¬ forward the wooden imitation of the sil¬ ver watch swung no longer overthe door. Uncle Wolsey had been conquered in life’s battle, and had laid down his arras, and now it was that Carry reluctantly threw herself into the breach. How could she let tho dear old man starve? And Mr. Pickrell’s faucy and dry goods store on Sixth avenue was really a very creditable establishment, and Mrs. Pickrell herself had promised, from the severe heights of the cashier’s desk, to “keep an eye” upon old Mr. Wallingford’s niece, and if her services proved desirable, there was no sort of doubt but that her salary would be in-' creased in time. Bo Cnrry buttoned up her sack, drew on her neat lisle-thread gloves and took the little basket, in which, wrapped in a napkin, was packed her lunch of apple pie and cheese, and went forth to meet her new career, little reckoning how brief it was to be. At first it was not very pleasant. The store was small and stuffy, with gorgeou 3 piles of cretonne and chintz at the door, and festqons of laces, silk handkerchiefs and colored jerseys flapping against the heads of the girls behind the counter, of whom th$re were three besides Cany— bold, high-voiced damsels, who wore their hair down over the bridge of their noses and giggled incessantly. Customers came and went, change was made an'a paper parcels expeditiously wrapped up. Mr. Pickrell Walked the floor with his hands in his pockets, ordered away 6mall girls whose noses were' flattened too persistently against the windows out¬ side, and smiled beamingly on old ladies who stopped to examine the quality of the chintzes and flannel suitings, Mrs. Pickrell reprimanded the young women with the banged hair for giggling too loud when there were customers in the store, and called to Carry to “mind what she was about” when a box of rib¬ bons fell off the counter upon the floor. Carry grew very weary, her head began to ache, and she wondered how long it would be before “shutting-up time.” At last a tall, brown-faced young man came in, wearing a foreign-looking coat trimmed with fur, and somehow bearing in his aspect the indescribable stamp of belonging to some other country. One of the banged-haired nymphs waa SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1887. eating her lunch; the second had rushed up the street to get change for a ten dol¬ lar bill; and the third was engaged in matching an impossible shade of ribbon for a young lady who was determined not to be pleased with anything. “Carry 1” shrilly signaled Mrs. Pick¬ rell. And our heroine advanced gallantly to the rescue. "What can I show you!” she asked, timidly, of the new customer. •‘Silk, please,’* said the young man. And when Carry perceived that he was considerably more embarrassed than herself, she took courage. “What color!" said she. “I don’t know,” answered the cus¬ tomer— “that is—I haven’t quite made up my mind. Perhaps you could sug¬ gest—” “What is it for !” Carry asked, with mild toleration of his evident bewilder¬ ment; and at the same time she could not help -perceiving that he was very handsome, with wavy black hair and and dark, liquid eyes, long lashes, and plea¬ sant to look upon, “For a dress.” “A dress? But is it for a young lady, or an old one?” “I don’t know,” acknowledged the gentleman—“young—that is, not old. She can’t be over forty.—To fell you the truth”—and he smiled in spite of ’him¬ self—“I’ve never seen the lady. But she is a cousin of mine, and I want to make her a present," “Yes, I understand,” said Carry. “Is it to be black or colored !” “What would you advise!” said the stronger, blindly clutching at Carry’s feminine counsel as a shipwrecked mar¬ iner may be expected to cling to a float¬ ing spar. “Black would perhaps bo more suit¬ able, seeing that you don’t know the lady’s age or complexion,” remarked Carry. “But blue and pink are such pretty colors I” pleaded the dark-haired young man, looking longingly at the piles of lustrous fabrics on the shelves. “Yes,” said Carry, growing inter¬ ested; “but they are only suitable for a very few occasions, while black is always appropriate.” * “I thought that only old ladies wore black silk ?’’ m “Young ladies do, also,” ealmly as¬ serted Carry. “If you were selecting a dress,” said the stranger, in desperation, “which color would you choose ?’’ “I would choose seal 'brown," said Carry, after a second or two of deliber¬ ation. • “Eh! should you? Show me seal brown then, please,” said the customer. ?“It’e a little grave, perhaps”—surveying the shining folds, “but it’s pretty, yes, it’s very pretty I How many yards now does it take for a dress ?” “I should think,” said Carry, after a second interval of reflection, “that fif¬ teen yards might answer if it was econ¬ omically cut.” “I don’t know anything about econ¬ omy," said the young man; “I want a good allowance.” “Then I should recommend eighteen yards,” advised Carry. “Cut me off eighteen yards,” said the gentleman, promptly; “and put in the linings and trimmings and all that sort of thing, please—you’ll know what I need, better than I do myself. And I say—” “Sir!” said Carry, as he hesitated. “Have you anything that would make a nice present for an old gentleman, do you think?” “A silk neck muffler?” suggested Carry, her eyes running across the shelves of the store, “or a pair of fur lined gloves!” “Capital 1" said the customer. "Put ’em both in the parcel.” “Thank you, sir,” said Carry. “Where shall we send them?” “Nowhere,” answered the customer. “I’ll take them along myself, and then I shall be sure that there is no mistake, I’m a thousand times obliged to you miss:” “Not in the least," said Carry, with dignity. So the dark-eyed stranger with the fur-trimmed coat departed, and Mrs. .Rickrell praised the young shop girl for the good sale she had made. “You’ll be a valuable hand in time," said she. “It isn’t often we get a chance to sell a silk pattern like that. Folks mostly go on Broadway for their expea sive dresses,” she added, with a sigh. Carry was very tired when she came homo in the frosty October dusk. The store did not close until ten, but the girls took turns, two by two, to stay af¬ ter sunset, and Carry’s turj), fortunately did not come until the next night. When she reached home Uncle Wol eev had the lamp lighted and the kettle boiling for tea, and was slicing off some canned corn beef, and “minding" the toast before the fire at the same time. It looked cheery and pleasant; Carry drew a long sigh of relief. “How nice it is to be at home, Unc o Wolsey I” she cried. “Do let me make that toast! And, oh t it hasn’t been such a very hard day, after all. And Mrs. Pickrell says I’ve made the best sale she has bad for a week. Such a handsome young man. Uncle Wolsey 1 and he treated me as if I were a princess instead of a working girl, and—’’ “Stop, stop 1” said Undo Wolsey, pausing with the knife still in his hand. “I’ve had a good-looking young man here, too, Carry. Needn't think you’ve got a monopoly of the article. What do you think of your poor mother’s cousin from the seal-fur fisheries in Alaska! And what do you think of his bringing these things here as a present for you and me—eh!” Uncle Wolsey laid down the knife, and carefully dusting his hands on the roller-towel, drew forth from tho bu¬ reau-drawer a seal-brown silk dress pattern, and a pair of fur-lined gloves, wrapped around with a spotted silk neck muffler 1 . “Why, Uncle Wolsey—” almost shrieked Carry, “What’s the matter!" said the old man. Ain’t they pretty! Oughtn’t 1 to hare taken ’em!” .“It’s the very man,” said Carry. “I sold them jto him this afternoon.” •‘Hey!" said Uncle Wolsey. "At the store,” said Carry. Oh, Uncle Wolsey 1 And is he really my cousin! I am so.glad. “Glad of what! retorted a strong, cheesy voice, and in came the mysteri¬ ous stranger himself. "Why, I declare,” he cried, if there isn’t the little girl who sold me the things to-day." “Glad that you are my cousin," said Carry, with a mischievous smile and a low courtesy, “Because—because I thought you were very pleasant and kind—” “And I thought—” said the stranger. “But no, I won’t tell you what I thought. How do you do cousin!” “Iam so glad you chose the seal BWfVn silkl” demurely observed- Carry. What should I have done with a blue or a pink 41 k!” “It would havs looked very well on you,”Aaid the cousin meditatively eyeing hepjM'blue pink, would cheeks.” have matched your eyes; your “Just my sentiments,” chuckled Uncle Wolsdjr. “Come, young folks—come; tea is ready. And the toast is getting cold^” Not until the visitor had taken his leave did Uncle Wolsey, smoking his pipe before tho fire, impart to Carry an additional piece of news. “jlThat d’ye suppose Mr. Lennox told me he came down to the States for, Carry!” “I’m sure I don’t know," said Carry, innocently. “To get him a wifel” said Uncle Wo!« sey. “Oh!” said Carry, shading her facs from the fire. “I am sure I hope he will be successful!” The three banged-hair young maidens at Pickrell’s Emporium subscribed to buy a Bohemian glass cologne set for Carry Wallingford's wedding present; but they murmured much among them¬ selves becau o this golden stratum oi luck had not come to them, “We’re just as pretty as she,” said they; “and much prettier, some folks would say. And why couldn’t the cus¬ tomer have fallen to our lot!” There are some questions which Cupid alone can answer. And he, the winged rogue is obstinately silent .—Helen Forest Graves. The Law and the Profile. Mrs. Bumpkin’s oldest boy had gone West, and a friend of the family was making some inquiries about him. “I understand John is an attorney,” he said. “Yes, and he got lots of busi¬ ness,” she answered, with a mother’s pride. “Is he criminal lawyer!” a A shadow fell upon the good old lady’s face. “No, not yet,” she said. “Leastways he hain’t told me. But I’m afraid he will be. The law is so dreadful tempt ing.” Doubtful of the Outcome. Life insurance agent (filling out appli¬ cation)—Your general health is good, is it not?” Applicant—“Neverhad a sick day in my life.” Agent—"Urn. You do not contemplate entering upon any hazardous undertak¬ ing, I suppose?” Applicant—"Well, yes, I am afraid 1 do. I am going to get married Wednes day .”—Lowell Qtiiten. A SWORD DUEL. A.Har<l Fight fop the Richest Heiress in Virginia The Ypung Lady's Laughing Suggestion Adopted by Her Two Lovers. An Alexandria (Va.) letter to the New York Sun notes the fact that “Mrs. Henry Nevil, nee Dulaney, the richess heiress in^Jirginia, has taken up her residence in this aristocratic old town,” and con¬ tinues as follows: “She is often seen on the street with her husband, the hand-tome young Irishman who won her at the, point of the sword, and the pair are mnch admired. Their presence here has set people to talking about the fa¬ mous sword contest in which Nevil showed himself to be the finest fencer in the South, and by which he won his bride and great wealth. It occurred aomo ten years ago. Mrs. Dulaney was then the belle of this part of Virginia. Her father, Colonel Hal Dulaney, was worth $9,000,000, and the dauahter was to inherit half of the amount. As she was beautiful as well as wealthy, there werq many suitors for her hand. Among tbeni, the two most favored were a young Englishman named Randolph, who was an qfficer in her Majesty’s Household Guards, and Henry Nevil, an Irishman who had fought in the French and Aus¬ trian , armies. Both were handsome, manly fellows, though not burdened withriches, and for a time their chances seemed about equal. It soon became evident that they hated each other very cordially, and all tide¬ water Virginia eagerly awaited the re¬ mit of the contest for Miss Dulaney’s smites. As both were very high tem¬ pered and familiar with tho use of wea pons, the lady had a hard time to keep them from venting their hatred in a bloody way. Still, with a girl’s coquet¬ ry, she led them on, showing no decided preference for either, and sometimes ap¬ pearing indifferent to both. One evening tho three were in the drawingroom to¬ gether. Tho rivals addressed each other only when absolutely necessary, and then with smothered anger in their tones, i* v'tfeity.M iss Dulaney got tired otihat sort of thing, and said laughingly; “Why don’t you go out and have a good fight, instead of snarling at each other always?” “We will do it," they exclaimed in one breath. The lady continued the conversation in a bantering tone, not dreaming that the men were in earnest. Next day, however, she discovered that they had actually adopted her laughing suggestion. When the rivals left the house they at once arranged the preliminaries for a duel. A meeting place was selected just off the Dulaney estate, the time fixed upon was the following morning at sun¬ rise, and swords were chosen as weapons. At the time agreed upon they met, with their seconds, and there ensued the most bloody duel that has ever taken place on Virginia soil. It was evident from the beginning that Nevil was the more expert swordman on account of his experience in the French army. Ran¬ dolph haudled the sword well, too, but lacked the grace and facility of move¬ ment of his opponent. Moreover, the Englishman was very much excited. As they faced each other they exchanged glances, which meant plainly a fight to the death. Then they set to, Randolph striking fiercely and wildly at his enemy, while the Irishman cooly took the defence, parrying his blows with ease and await¬ ing his chance for a thrust It came at last, and he neatly removed a large piece of Randolph’s ear. The pain seemed to madden the Englishman, and he bore down upon his enemy with indiscreet desperation. Nevil quietly got in anoth¬ er strike,' which mutilated the English¬ man's nose. The rest of the figit was r ough and tumble on Randolph’s part, while Nevil not for a moment lost his presence of mind. He finally disabled the Englishman begetting in a thrust on his sword arm. He did this merely to prevent downright murder, for he knew he could take Randolph apart piece by piece without injury to himself, and he knew, too, Randolph would die rather than yield as long as he could hold a ■word. Mies Dulaney was sorry for Randolph’s misfortune, but she smiled more than ever on Nevii whom, it turned out, she bad loved all the time. - Three months afterward Randolph rose from his sick bed disfigured for life, left the country and; has not been heard from since. About the same time Nevil and Miss Du¬ laney were married. Regular caller—“I’d like to see your father, Tommy, if he isn’t engaged.’ Tommy—“He is; but what is the matter with Clara? She isn’t engaged. Origin of the Great Western Cattle Herds. 8. T. Simmonds, who has made large investments in Western cattle business, said the other day that the original stock of cattle from which the great herds of to-day have been for the most part bred, was an inheritance from the Spaniards. He added: “I was out in Wyoming re¬ cently, where I met Thomas Sturgis, whose intimate knowledge of tho cattle business probably exceeds that of any man in the West. He told me that the breeding of ranch cattle was begun by the driving from Texas 1863 and suc¬ ceeding years into the plains to the northward of a part of the vast growth of cattle which had sprung up there wild, unwatched and untamed during the war. These herds were all of Spanish or Mex¬ ican origin. The meat was coarse and tho animal full of the wildness of gener¬ ations of the untamed ancestors. These cattle have been improved as the cattle business has grown by the importation of breeding animals from Missouri, Iowa, Illinois, Kentucky and in some instances from New York and Europe. In 1883 the ranchmen of Wyoming alone paid out over a million dollars for breeding animals. The general idea of the public that all a ranchman has to do is to turn his cattle loose on the plains, round them up once a ylar and kill off the fat ones, is quite ridiculous. The cattle business requires capital, labor and attention no less imperative than any other branch of industry .”—New York Tribune. Washington’s Birthplace. There is scarcely a sign now of the house in which Washington was born, on the lower Rappahannock, nor any more of the other houses where he passed his boyhood, over against Erederickburg, and in the landscape which must have been known to our soldiers who fought at Chaucellorviile. Both these houses were cf the old Virginia stamp—big roomy piles of lumber, with long, sloping bent roof in the rear, and two huge chimneys slapped against the exterior walls at either end. It was at the home in Stafford county must have happened • - that episode or the cherry tree; and it was there, too, happened (after his father’s death) that .other better au thenticated incident of the boy’s sub jugation of a young thoroughbred colt which nobody could master; and yet this intreped lad known as George Washington, and known for many athletic feats even as a boy, did master the brute, and so enrage him by the mastership that the poor animal, in a frenzy of pro¬ testing plunges, died under the very seat of the boy master. This martyr to young Washington’s iron resolve was a great pet of his mother’s, under whose special guidance the fatherless lad had now come; and there may have been a bone to pick between them regarding the colt; but never, then or thereafter, any real breach in their mutual regard or love .—American Agriculturist. A Remarkable Climate. At a point where tho two ranges of the Cordilleras, the eastern and western, which traverse Peru from north to south, meet, and form what is known as the junction of Pasco (el nudo de Pasco) is located the city of Cerro de Pasco, 156 miles from Lima. It is built upon hon¬ eycombed foundations and possesses a mos t remarkable climate by reason of its great height above the sea level. From December to March, a season which the people of the Cerro term their winter, whereas in reality it is their summer, the temperature during the day is from 13 to 13 degrees above zero, at night it falls to near zero, but the water seldom freezes. During this season the sun appears at times, and from the purity of the atmos¬ phere the heat caused by his rays is al¬ most unbearable. A person may be standing partly in the shade; that por¬ tion is disagreeably cold, while the part exposed to the sun is uncomfortably warm. It would be difficult to find another locality where the atmospheric changes are more distinctly marked.— N. Y. Graphic. How to Fix George. Bachelor Uncle- Ah, my dear, you look as pretty as a picture. I don’t wonder George thinks so much of you. Has the rascal proposed yet! Pretty Niece—No, uncle, he hasn’t. I really believe he’s afraid to. “Why don’t you encourage him a lit¬ tle, my dear?” “Ido, uncle; but you know it wouldn’t be modest to do too much encouraging.” “No, I suppose. I’ll tell yon what to do, though.” “What is it, you dear old thing?" “Just wait till his birthday nnd pre¬ sent him with one of those mottos— ‘God Bless Our Home.’ If that doesn’t fix him noth ng will ,”—Pittsburg Dis¬ patch. NO. 3 . / Recompense. Every summertime, when roses fade, t Fades one more rose. Every autumn, when the dead bares fall, One more leaf goes One more bird flies with the flying jeer. Fleet-winged and strong— Leaves another empty near, where brooas But echoing-eong. But each frost time, when the heaven’s arch Gleams cold and far, Through the trembling twilight gloom ascends Another star. Bometime all the roses will be gone. The leaves, all dead, Fill the paths with heap* of rusty gold. While overhead. Only empty nests, forsaken, flE The branches bare; Only songs of wandering minstrel wind* Sweep 'round them there. Yet, what matter, Soul I Thy reoompanaa Look up and see— Where, with countless stars o’er-brimmed, the sky Spreads over thee. When no more earth-musio sounds, than, sweet, Will greet thine ears, Seraph music wafted down, past far Mist-silvered spheres —Albion M. Fellows in the Current. HUMOROUS. Every miser should have a chest pro¬ tector. The greatest wag over known—A wo¬ man’s tongue. Men who must draw the line some¬ where—Surveyors. After the sweets of married life depart the family jars remain. Hostlers are never on good terms to¬ gether. There is always a hitch among them. ‘Til take your part,” as the dog said when he robbed the cat of her portion of the dinner. If a dealer in grave-stones were to fail, some newspaper would be sure to refer to the disester as “a bust in marble.” An Indian idol has been discovered in the west. This is not as strange as if an Indian had been discovered at work. An ordinary small boy is never so hap¬ py as when he is standing under a sat? that» being hoisted to the filth stovy. A bull frog can ait on a bog and croak, And dive in the pool just for play; But be can’t wag bis tail and show his de¬ light, Because he ain’t built that way. A Michigan woman kicked a bear to death a few days ago, and now her hus¬ band never contradicts anything she says. There is everything to discourage a man who sells medicines. His best arti . cle is pretty sure to be a drug on the market. Daughter—Mamma, I’m crazy about this palmistry. Mother—The pa mya tery I’m crazy about is where your father spends his evenings. Misery loves company, and company causes the good housekeeper agreat deal of misery, too, when she hasn’t any thing cooked in the house. Many a young man who has boon too bashful to propose to a girl hna had her father come into the parlor at eleven o’clock and help him out. “Were you ever engaged in a duel, Col. Blood!" “Yes, sir, I waa, sir." ‘‘Did it terminate seriously!” “Yes; I was arrested and fined $10.” Women who have a habit of turning round in the street to inspect other wo¬ men’s dresses will learn with envy that a fish has been found which has eyes in the back of its head. We wish to inform our poetical con¬ tributors, remarks a western editor, that spring pdfetry will no longer be received by us, as we are now using steam heat instead of a stove. A Cedar Springs, (Mich.,) young man called on a young woman the other eve¬ ning and fell asleep in his chair with one arm around her waist. When he awoke he found that he was embracing a chum and that the girl had gone. “Augustus, dear,” said the gentle girl, tenderly pushing him from her as the moonlight flooded the bay window where they were standing, “I think you had better try some other hair dye; your moustache tastes like turpentine.” Eept Waiting. * “Your resturant ’gives a man a good appetite.” “Glad to bear you say so.” “Makes a man hungry to emus in here.” “You flatter me.” “When I came in here, I don’t have a int of appetite, but before I go out X am hungry as a bear.” “Why, how’s that?” “Have to wait so long after giving my ordtor to the waiter I nearly starve to death."— Lynn Union. * I . .
