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About North Georgia times. (Spring Place, Ga.) 1879-1891 | View Entire Issue (May 12, 1887)
NORTH GEORGIA TIMES VII. New Series. Going Home. Xia me who j my spirit flies; I*t the beauty of your eyes Beam along the wave) ot death While I draw my parting breath, And am borne to yonder shore Where the billows beat no more, 1 And the notes of endless spring Through the groves immortal ring I going home to-night. Out of b.indness into sight but of r eakness, war and pain, Into power, peace and gain. Out of winter gale and gloom Into summer breath and bloom. From the wanderings of the past, I am going home at last. Kiss my lips and let we go; Nearer swells the solemn flow Of the wondrous stream that rolls By the borderland of souls; I can catch sweet strains of songs Floating down from distant throngs. And can feel the touch of hands Reaching out from angel bands. Anger’s frown and Envy’s thrust. Friendship killed by cold Distrust, Sleepless night and weary morn, Toil in fruitless land forlorn, Aching head and breaking heart, Love destroyed by Slander’s dart, Drifting ship and darkened sea, Over there will righted be. -Jams C. Clark. BEN'S "NOSTALGIA," BY MRS. M. L. RATHE. Farmer Con no ver strode into the house, took off his fur cap and thick mittens, and unwound numerous links of red woolen comforter from his ample throat. Then he sat down by the warm wood fire and said to his wife: “Seems like I had somethin’ to tell you, Bairy Ann, but I can’t for the life of me just remember it neow." “Was it somebody got married?" in¬ quired Mrs. Connover, who was bustling about setting the tablo for supper. , “No, didn’t seem as ’twas. Lemme think,” and he pressed a meditative fore¬ finger on that portion of his forehead where he seemed to locate the faculty of memory. “Is anybody dead that you are ac quaintod with?” “No, no, tain’t cyether marryin’ or dyin’ as I kin see. Curas how I do for¬ get things sometimes,” ‘•We ain’t heard from Ben for quite awhile,” suggested Mrs. Conover. “That’s it,” cried the farmer, jumping to his feet as sprightly as a log. “Tain’t from Ben, leastwise it ain’t his hand writen’, but it’s a letter. I’ve got it right here in my pocket.” “Do tell,” said his wife, dropping the dishes she was holding in a promiscu¬ ous heap. “If it ain’t from Ben, who is it from?” “It’s writ to you,” said her husband producing it at last. Mrs, Conover reached up to tho ciock shclf and took down her Bible-reading spectacles. “It’s a strange hand to me,” she said, scanning it carefully, “must be some of Cicely’s folks.” So she stepped to tho door leading above stairs and called at the top of her voice: “C-i-c-e-l-y! C—i-c-o-1—y!” ‘‘Here I am, mother,” answerd a sweet voice. “What is it?" For every inflection of her good mother’s voice was familiar to her, and this one bristled with exclamation points. “Here is a letter, in a strange hand write. Do you know who it is from?’’ handing it to her. “Why, it is addressed to you, mother. It seems to me the easiest way to find out would be just to open it and read it.” "Well, then do,” said her mother. “I’m so fidgeted thinking about Ben off there alone that 1 can’t open it.” “This isn’t anything about Ben," said Cicely, deftly opening the envelope after she had admired the smart college style superscription. “It’s from somo lawyer or fruit-tree agent, likely, on business.” “What would he write to your mother for?” suggested Father Conno¬ ver gruffly. Cicely read it over to herself first, and at once changed color. “It is about Ben, mother,” she said the tears rushing into her eyes and her voice, “he is sick, and this is from tho doctor who is taking care of him. Oh, mother, don’t cry, Ben needs you. Keep up your strength.” “Wbat ails him!” asked his father jn an unsteady tone. Cicely read the doctor’s letter. He said that Ben was his patient, and he was doing all he could for him, but his parents had better come, as it re¬ quired more skill than he—the physician —had to cure him. He ended by saying that the boy was suffering from a severe attack of nostalgia. “What in the world is that? I never heard of it before," exclaimed Mr. Oon nover. SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY. MAY 12, 1887. "What is it. CicelyT’ asked Mrs. Oon nover. Cicely was a graduate of the Normal school, and her parents expected her to know everything. She shook her head. “It means that we must go to Ben just as soon as we can. If there had been any hope the doctor would have said so.” She cried and worked at the same time. Ben, her only brother, was her idol. She had opposed his going away from first to last, but the father was wiser. “If the boy ain’t oontented here, let him go to the city, and clerk it for n year or two. He’s king of two hands anywhere," said the gruff old farmer. And Ben had been ill, and too proud to let them know. They took the evening train. At the depot some of their friends had gathered to hear the news. Of each and all, they asked the same question. Have you ever heard of Nastalgy?” And cone of them had ever heard of it, but all agreed that it must be a dreadful thing to have such a difficult name. When they reached the city they had cried and worried themselves sick. At least the two women had. The father, with the stoicism of his kind, had boat a constant tatoo on the car window and whistled an accom paniment—all the time he was crying in his heart. "Oh, Absalom, my son! my son I” There was no one to meet them, as no one was interested in their coming ex¬ cept Ben and the doctor, and they neither of them had heard of their in intentions. ' So they went at once to the placo where Ben boarded, a dreary house, with innumerable small, ill-ventilated rooms, where for the entire sum that he earned weekly Ben Connover was per¬ mitted to lodge. ^ ; Thq doctor had made his hospital rounds that night, nnd his last call was on Ben. He was a young physician, and very zealous over his patients. Ho took an interest in tho ’ handsome, whole souled country boy who was unac customed to close rooms and sewer gas and lonely hours, and so wrote that let¬ ter to his mother. And os they stood on the step ringing the grumbling bell be walked up and soon discovered who they were, and made himself known. “Oh, Doctor, is there any hope? “Doctor, will my boy get well? “Doctor, ds he still alive?” These were the questions that were poured into the doctor’s ears. How very unfeeling of him to laugbl "Why, there i? nothing in the world tho matter with him 1 As I wrote you it’s only a bad case of nostalgia.” “Doctor!” said the father sternly, “put that ’ere word in jilain English!” “Oh, I see,” luughed the doctor. “It is the medical term for homesickness." And that was all that ailed tho boy. A good deal of mental longing and worry had brought on fever, and Ben was fast becoming really ill, but the sympathetic young doctor had diaguosod his case correctly. He was a soldier who was not sick from any fatal malady. He was homesick. "Now that we’re here we’ll stay and see the sights, Sarah Ann," Mr. Conno¬ ver said to his wife, “and you can coddle Ben all you want to.” And Ben was very willing to be cod died. But it was strange that after explaining that big medical word, the doctor still kept coming, It worried the old couple a little, becauso they thought all. Ben must be in danger aftet But it was the doctor who was in danger now. Ho had transferred his interest in the brother to the sister. And no word was big enough to diagnose his case. Butit all came out right. Only Ben must have tonics and directions, and at last the doctor went out there and established a practice, leaving out tho Latin words. And he was right. There is no more insidious disease than homesickmss. When the Swiss soldiers, the bravest fighters in the world, hear the familiar Ranz des baches they lean on their car¬ bines and weep for their loved glaciers and mountain pines, and often die of that hidden wound of the heart—whose classical name is nostalgia, and which freely translated means sickness for home.—[Detroit Free Press. Not Youug Enough. Customer (to restaurant man) — “B ly 1” Restaurant man—“Don’t call me boy, sir! I’m no bo/, sir, and I won’t be called boy, sir, by nobody, sir.’’ Customer—"Then do ns von’d be done by, and don’t call this old mutton ‘lamb’ any morel”—[Texas. MYSTERIES OF PARIS, Dark and Dangerous Resorts of the French Metropolis. Vaults and Cellars Where Murderers and Thieves Congregate. On leaving the Chat Noir the other night some one proposed that we should visit the cellars near the Central mar¬ ket”, writes a Paris correspondent of the New York Sun. In the Faubourg du Temple, at La Chapclle, and in the neighborhood of the Place Maubert these cellars or vau ts below grog shops are famous as tho resort of thieves and bad characters. They ar among the sights of criminal Paris which the stran¬ ger raroly visits, however much his curiosity may have been awakened by the descriptions given by Eugene Sue in his “Mysteries of Paris." Bo we made up a party of three, and be¬ tween 1 and 2 in the morning we ar¬ rived at the Central markets. We left them to their dreams, and descended by a narrow staircase into a series of vaults, the whitewashed ceilings of which were covered with arabesques and names written in black with tho smoke of a candle. In one part of these vaults a group of men were drinking and singing parodies of church hymns. This did not come up to our * expecta¬ tions, so we went to “La Jeune France,” a famous cellar where a man had been assassinated only a few nights before. We passed through a gate, down one flight of narrow stairs, then stooping low we passed under an archway re¬ served in the foundations of the house, down another flight of stairs, then through another archway, along a tor¬ tuous passage, and so to a tunnel about seven feet high, five feet broad, and twenty feet long. The vault of the roof was covered with green trelliswork, there were benches and rush stools to sit upon; Wooden tables bearing the marks of strife; and to liglit us, two gas-jets. We were here at the very end of the mousotrap, and wo now under¬ stood why the police never enter these “cavcaux”—there is no possibility of a fair fight. When we entered the ‘.‘ca veau" there was’ nobody there, but after we bad ordered some wine two musicians came in. The one was a miserable pale fellow, half starved and half blind, with a thin blonde mous¬ tache. He sang and accompanied him¬ self by striking a few chords on a guitar. The other was a short, bony man, with a black beard, drunken blue eyes, round shoulders, and an appearance of humili¬ ty, as if he were constantly afraid of re¬ ceiving a kick. He sang in turn, strum¬ ming on a single bnss chord. The tip given by some watcher soon brought four other visitors—a burly ruffian, who wore a huge red fez rising eighteen inches above his crown, a young man wearing a thin cotton blouse, and two others dressed in cast off clothes of fashionable cut, without a vestige of linen. The humble musician sang, above all things, an air from “Mignon,” keeping bis eyes fixed on the ground as he sang, and pointing to his heart with an awkward gesture whenever the word “heart" occurrod in the romance. Sud¬ denly one after another half a dozen athletic, square shouldered men, vary¬ ing in age from seventeen to twenty-five, crept through the narrow archway, pass¬ ing rapidly in without even glancing at our table, and massed themselves at the end of the vault, lolling on the benches^ smoking cigarettes, and drinking at our expense, for we thonght it only polite to offer these gentlemen a glass of wtne, the more so as the musicians were play¬ ing for our amusement. After “Mignon” the ruffian with the rod fez asked for the guitar, took a tuning fork out of his pocket, snapped it with his teeth, and tuned the instrument properly. Then the ruffian in tbe cotton blouse rose and with fine voice, perfect sentiment and correct gestures, sang other airs from “Mignon,” and also from “Carmen.” All the ruffians listened in perfect silence to tbe singer, who was a real artist, and two women who had joined the band melted into tears at tbe end, one of them exclaiming: “Ah, music! When I hear ‘Mignon’ I can’t help it. I cry like a calf.” The scene appeared to be idyllic rather than brigandish and terrible. Howevever, it appeared after ail that we might have beea in better company, for at a sign from the waiter I slipped oat of the vault. ‘You had better give the word to your friend to come up stairs. The band is almost au complet, and it is the very band that assassinated a man here last week. If their chief happens to come in you might get in trouble.” We did not wait to h< warned twice, but wished the gentlemer good evening, ascended the staircasi without undue precipitation, and ye« j - with a kind of internal sensation of rapidity. After leaving “La Jeune France" we visited three or four loss interesting es¬ tablishments. It was the samo spectacle in each of them. Nothing at all like tho descriptions given by Eugene Sue, and the narratives of other explorers of Paris. Calvator Rosa’s brigands are as unreal and conventional as his stormy landscapes. The Dangerous Flat Wheel. As a train was pulling out of the West Side Union Station in Chicago a passenger sat still a moment as if listen¬ ing to something and then rose from his se^f W* ■ulvelling picked up his luggage, and asked companion to go with him inW? the first car ahead. “But we have just got comfortably seated here,” replied the other; “why should for we make a change? Car too hot you?” “No, the temperature is all right." “Too cold, mobbo?" ‘$To, it’s not too cold." “Then what is the matter! Why should we go into the front car?" “Well, Til tell you. You know I used to be a railroad man, a conductor, andj, tjie of course, I picked up some ideas on road that a man gets only from experience. As soon as the train started myfcare told me there was a flat wheel un6^r ping this the car. rails? Don’t you hear it rap¬ on Wait till the train yon'il slo*^ up for the first stop, and then hear it—running too fast now. Yes, sir, ear wheels flatten out and have to be closely watched. Some imperfec¬ tion or unevenness in the iron, or some extraordinary blow on a rsAj or obstruc-. tion, makes an impression on the surface of the wheel, and then every revolution thereafter adds to the injury. A wheel wiR flatten out in a remarkably short tinSfc, flat and on long runs of through trains a wheel is a source of danger. If this wheel runs from here to New York, ana thyiphancea Happens to be a pretty so-t wheel, are that.it will arrive there in ai,very bad condition, after doing as muc^t Will damage in to the track as tho com paoa get passenger money from trf thth ckh Of course, there’s not much danger; but I make it a rule never to ride in a car that has a flat wheel under it, nnd if you don't mind we’ll go up ahead.”—[Chicago Herald. A Farmer Saved by a Dog. From the town of Castclnaudary, France, writes a Paris correspondent, comes a story that Is literally true, yet which reads like the invention of a sen¬ sational novelist. A farmer residing in tho onvirons of that town, and who was known to have saved money, returned home one evening, accompanied by his dog, a large, powerful and very intelli¬ gent animal. On reaching tho house the dog at once darted to tho farmer’s bed¬ room, as if in search of something, and dashed under the bed. A short struggle ensued, and the dog then emerged drag¬ ging the corpse of a man that he had found hidden under the bed, and whom he had seized by the throat and instantly strangled. The farmer’s wife recognized the dead man as a tramp to whom she had that morning given food and drink, and who had then, as she thought, gone on his way. Her husband at once went in search of the police, who, on arriving, thoroughly examined the body. Con¬ cealed in the clothes were found a long sharp knife, a loaded revolver, and a whistle. The policemen then hid them¬ selves, and one of their number blew the whittle. Four men obeyed tho signal and entered the house, and were im mediately captured. Thanks to the dog, the lives of the farmer and his wife had been saved, for one of the miscreants con¬ fessed that their comrade was to have murdered them both, and that they them¬ selves were thon to have aided in strip¬ ping the house of its contents and in carrying them away. Their Names In the Paper*. “Time after time have I heard that old chestnut ‘Don’t put my name ia the papers,’ ” said a reporter the other day, and “on experience I had of another kind was refreshing. I was reporting a large meeting of an association, and seeing a lady with whom I was ac¬ quainted and who was a leading mem¬ ber of the association, I approached her and asked if she would give me the names of a few of the most prominent persons on the stage. She scanned the group thereon seated, and replied quickly< There’s pal’ and I put his name down. It reminds me of another incident. I was reporting a struggle over a will, and I asked one of the con¬ testants her name. She replied, ‘Don’t put my name in the paper, please. My name Is Mary Ann Smith; but if you’d put It in, do you think it will get in all the papers? 1 she added, sweetly.” -Phil¬ adelphia Call. SL’IENflFIC SCRAPS. Spectroscopic observations give a dif¬ ferent composition for variable stars at different period”, thus indicating that the variability results from the combus¬ tion of different substances. During 1886 eleven new asteroids were detected, increasing the number known to 264. Of this total 67 linve been discovcd by Dr. J. Palisn of Vi¬ enna, and 48 by Dr. Peters of Clinton, N. Y. Out of fifteen thousand earthquakes observed on coast lines, the German s >is motogist, Kluge, found that only 'Hit hundred and twenty-four were accom¬ panied by sea waves, although a very large proportion of tho shocks had piob ably originated under the sea. A decidedly “big" mining scheme is about to be launched in California. It is no less than a twelve-mile tunnel for draining tho entire ground of mines in Nevado City and Grand Valley. The water power of the Yuba river will bo used to drivtlhe drills and propel the cars. The tunnel, where it enters the mines, will be 1200 below the surface. As a Teat of engineering the tunnels of tho 8t. Gothard and Mont Cunis have been surpassed by a tunnel near Schem nitz, in Hungary. It is 10 1-4 miles long, about 10 feet high, and 6 broad. It has taken nearly a century to com¬ plete, and cost $5,000,000, and its pur¬ pose is to carry off the water from the mines. This work has suffered long in¬ tervals of stoppage, once for thirty and again for twenty years, and is estimated to effect an annual saving of $90,000. A practical railway mechanic says it may as well be known, first and last, that no locomotive can make steam to draw and heat the cars at tiio same time. The constant worry of an engineer is the fear of being unable to draw his train up grades, because of the liability of his steam running low. No steam can be spared from the engines, and if the cars must have steam heat—by popular de¬ mand or legislative enactment—the only way to do is to run a special furnace-car on every passenger train. . A communication to the London Me teorological'Soiciety,' by Capt. ToynJ.i, states as his conclusion that clou Is of not less than 2000 feet in thickness are seldom accompanied by rain, or, if they a re, it is very gentle, consisting of minute drops; with a thickness of between 2000 and 4000 feet, tho size of tho drops is moderate; with increasing thickness of the clouds comes an increasing size of the drops, and at the same time tbe de¬ gree of temperature becomes lowered. When the thickness amounts to moro than 6000 feet, hail is produced. Apache Children. A prominent fenture in any Apache village are tho children, who are un¬ kempt little savages, but ste much hand¬ somer in childhood than in mature life. The care of the male children devolves upon the man, who carefully educates them to emulation and practice in deeds of blood, including the art of scientific torturing. So welt are these lessons taught that the Apache boy, at an early age, is ambitious and fitted to go on tbe warpath. Some of the most daring deeds in Apache warfare have been per¬ formed by boys who were emulous to earn their title to manhood. The girl is taught the rude domestic arts and lessons of labor, but ber educa tion in barbarity is not a whit less thorough than that of the boy. The education of the Apache girl begins with her care of the younger children. She learns to carry water and to go forth to bunt roots, wild fruits and bcrr.es worms and reptiles, and whatever else goes to make up the Apache cuisine. She is taught to prepare for eating the game or domestic animals used for food, brought in by the warriors from tfcoir excursions. Much of this animal food being common property, she learns to make a vigorous fight to secure for her own household the entrails, which arc the greatest luxury to the Apache. She subsists largely upon such odds and ends as she can get by stealth or after others have been satisfied, as the special household care is the providing for the wants of the warriors aDd boys. Under such an education she grows up strong, tough and fleet-footed, accustomed to every effort of endurance, privation and hardship of Indian life. The Labor Question. Young Political Economist—Do you know, George, I have been studying the labor question a great deal of late! George-—That so? Going to work? It takes the first thirty years of a young man’s life to find out that it isn’t the Uan with tbe shiniest hat who draws the biggest check. —Philadel¬ phia Call. NO. 14. The I’earl of Peace. A l ivalve fie ling in the warm salt sea Draws inward with the wars a sawdy graii), Which, not returning with the ware again, Remains henceforth its secret grief to ba Day after day. the sea-wise folk agree, The creature hides it in a dew-like rain Of ceaseiees tears, till, hardened out of pain, A precious p^orl is fashioned perfectly. From outer seas pf passion, seas of st-ife, Tlure drifts at times upon the human heart A sr-cret rankling grief that day by day We rover with the bitter tears of life, Till wrought of pain, from out oar nobler part The pearl of peace remains with us always —[W. W. Martin. HUMOROUS. “Excuse me for living" is the latest form of apology. The Chinese of California are the queue-cumbers of the soil. They don’t build large buildings in Chicago any more. They simply “erect commodious structures.” Tho Cardiff giant is stored away in a garret of a house in Texas. He has been at last pronounced stone dead. “What’s in n name ?’’ an exchange in¬ quires. That depends. In Welsh names there are principally consonants and y’g. In murder cases wh re there is danger of hanging the prisoner the de¬ fense makes every eff jrt to hong tho jury* “I have a theory about the dead lan¬ guages,” remarked a freshman. “I think they were killed by being studied too hard.” It is stated that a powder company in New York has stopped business, but it is nothing new to hear of a powder mill “going up." Ending of a boy's letter trom board¬ ing-school: “I can’t writo any more, for my feet are so cold that I can’t bold a pen. You affectionate son, Tommy.” When a man boasts that he moves in the best of society, it may not be im¬ pertinent to suggest that it is probably because) he is not permitted to stay ij - 'L “What is more surprising than a sao\\ storm in July ?" asks a St. Paul corre¬ spondent. We couldn’t exactly say un¬ less it should be two snow storms in July. “I have such an indulgent husband,” laid little Mrs. Doll. “Ye?, so George rays,” responded Mrs. Spiteful, quietly; “sometimes ho indulges too much, doesn’t he?" They no longer speak to each other. A Boston man has invented a never slip wrench which is said to be a great success. Now if he would set his brains to work and invent a never-slip sido walk, all humanity would rise up and call him blessed. Professor Boss of Albany says: ’The star Alpha Cygui is moving aloDg at the rate of 50 miles a second.” Wc are glad to see the nineteenth ceutuiy has pro¬ duced something that can keep pace wi;h a sewing circle. “What is a phenomenal pitcher!” asks a base ball enthusiast. Judging from the announcements made by the rival base ball manngers all pitchers are phenomenal ones excepting thoso be¬ longing to some other manager’s club. A correspondent thinks that there is something in the American air that inclines people to chew. Men chew to¬ bacco and women chew gum. It is probably because America is a free country, where people do pretty much as they chews. Microscopic Possibilities. Perhaps the most wonderful thing that lias been discovered of late is the new glass which has just been made in Sweden, differing from ordinary glass in its extraordinary refractive power. Our common glass contains only six sub¬ stances, while the Swedish glass consists of fourteen, the most important elements being phosphorus and boron, which are not found in any other glass, The revolution which this new refractor is destined to make is almost inconceiv ab e, if it is true, as is positively alleged, that, while the highest power of au old fashioned microscopic lens reveals only the one four hundred thousandth part of an inch, this new glass will enable us to distinguish one two hundred and four million seven hundred thousandth part of an inch. It makes one’s hand ache to write these figures; and who can tell what worlds within worlds may not be discovered with such an instrument as this? Magnified after this fashion, the smallest animalcule will be converted into a giant, and if the same refracting power can be applied to t.ie telephone we shall have the moon brought to oar very doors.—[Something to Read.]
