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About North Georgia times. (Spring Place, Ga.) 1879-1891 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 20, 1887)
r*fi k W m jR 1 8» 1 GEORGIA TIMES m 181 m Hi B • v;: r Jmi, .. ■ l VII. Hew Series. Heroism. Not on the battlefield, I deem. /) Are deeds the most heroic done; Not where the sword and bayonet gleam > Are dietaries the grandest won. Not in the plague infested town, . Whole stay the few the sick to save, And for their lives their own lay down, , Shalt thou behold the world’s most brave? In acts of great self sacrifice, Of which all men with wonder hear, A secret inspiration lie, That stirs the soul and conquers fear. To do the duty few shall know, And knowing, scorn what God requires, The menial duty far below, The task to which the heart aspires. do SU °k sery ion > out love, *• ■ Tfe « reach of either pride or shame, ^Plays a courage that alone 10 <*« «uch act doth far outshine AH other earth had ever known, A courage Christlike and divine. ■■ — .....— ■ — A GOOD CATCH. BY EMILY LENNOX. 1 “Mr. Ainsley Arbuthnot" was the name beautifully engraved on tho ele¬ gant visiting card which a servant pre¬ sented to Evelyn Ogden, as she stood before a tall pier-glass, admiring the sweep of her white satin train, and the suited ^ I Miss Evelyn’s elaborate tasto. “Oh, yes!” Sybil answered, promptly. “I have been ready for some time.” “Why don’t you put some white lace around your neck?” Evelyn asked, eriti c&lly. “You look so—oh, so plain.” She was going to say “countryfied,” but repented of that and amended her speech. “I haven’t any lace,” Sybil said, frankly. ’ “TO lend yon my fichu,” said Evelyn, less in a spirit of generosity than in a wish to have Sybil look semi-respect able. “Thank - ,. feathers, Evelyn, dear. Don’t mind me. I couldn’t look anything but plain if I tried, and it will suit me better to creep into a quiet corner where no ono will ^ieo mo. I can enjoy your triumphs, cousin, for I am sure you will have them. You look beautiful to-night.” “Do you think so?” said Evelyn, with »conscious glance toward the minor, a ^® a 13 rCSS , f.. S °„ ccomin S’ M r. r u , no a - ores w i e. “I almost wish I hadn’t said I would go,” observed Sybil, looking down at hor own plain dress. “I am afraid I shall disgrace you, Evelyn. I don’t even know how to behave, for I never heard of a progressive-angling party before.” “Oh, it’s simple enough,’’said Evelyn, buttoning her long gloves. “There will bo a lot of tub?, or punch-bowls, probably, and we will all have gilt fish ing rods and lines, with hooks on them. The fish are hollow and have prizes in¬ side. Wo all fish for them, and nobody knows what he is going to get till the fish are opened. There is to be a gold ring in ono to-night, they say. It will be like wedding cake. But you needn’t worry, Sybil; I’ll tell you what to do.” Sybil was not worrying. She was perfectly quiet—in fact, so much so, that Evelyn fancied her brilliant escort would not be at all pleased with this unex¬ pected addition to their party. Sybil had come to the city to try and get a position as a teacher, and Evelyn did not fancy taking her out in society; but Mr. Ogden had a tender feeling for his sister’s child, and commanded his daughter to show her all the honors due to a distinguished guest. “My cousin, Miss Weir, Mr. Arbuth¬ not,” said Evelyn, presenting Sybil to the gentleman who awaited them in the parlor. Ainslcy Arbuthnot’s keen eyes had swept in an instant over the white satin gown, with the mental observation: “Overdressed!” They rested now upon the slander, little figure in the soft, rich-colored cashmere,- and they lighted with genuine admiration. “I am pleased to make your acquaint¬ ance, Miss Weir,” he said, with that quiet yet impressive manner which is, such a valuable gift. Sybil murmured something, but her eyelids fell before that magnetic glance. anyhow How hantlsome he was, per¬ fectly self-possessed! It was no wonder that Evelyn was always talking about Ainslcy Arb.uthnot. ’ He was rich, too, they said, though Sybil thought very little, about wealth a^ve as some far-away thing which she SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 20, 188T. would probably ne ver possess ia all her lifetime. The “progressive angling” went on at flowers and fragrance, ana parti-colored lights, that shone on a crowd of elegant ly-drcsscd men and women, who moved about in a scene of rare beauty and splendor. “Must I fish too?” Sybil asked, nervously, as she looked shyly at the superb cut-glass bowls, in which nrti fleial goldfish were swimming in per fumed water. “I would Tather not.” “Don’t bo afraid,” said Arbuthnot, kindly. “They all make botches of it,” “Aren’t you going to fish, Arbuth not?” called out an exquisite youth, who wore a primrose and an eye-glass. “It’s no end of a lark, ’pon honor I It’s such fun to see those stupid little tin things wriggle!” “Is it, really?” said Arbnthnot, with imperturbable gravity, while the speaker began to dangle his absurd little line iu the water. “Do you know what that makes me think of?” he continued, in alow tone, which only Sybil hoard, “It reminds me of a definition which I once heard given for a fishing-rod—‘a stick with a worm at one end and a fool at . other.’ ” aS Sybil broke out into a merry laugh, which made Evelyn turn around to see said Mr. Ar ; *y v people at the table.” V j “Yes,” said Evelyn, sweetly; “let us try now, by- all means. Do you know, Mr. Arbuthnot, there is to be a german after the fishing, and we ladies have to fish our partners out of yonder bowl?" “How momentous 1” Arbutlmot ex claimed. “I hope heaven may be kind to me.” Evelyn smiled at him, and Sybil, bav ing a sense of being iu the way moved toward the table. “Come, ladies!” cried tho youth with tho eyeglass. “There are as good fish in the sea as ever yet were caught.” “Allow me!” said Dick Travers a self in possession of ono of tho gilded willow rods, which were gaily adorned with bows of ribbon. She cast in her line, and almost im mediately the others were cast along side. “I am fish,ng for you, Miss Weir,” said Dick, boldly “I want a good partner, and you look as though you 8 -3® e lvme y- ft ., am very on , „ J 1 881 > modestly; “but I don’t know much about the german. I think I should be almost afraid to try ” Evelyn frowned and bit her lips. 1 ™ What , foot . , the ., girl . , Was 1 , a “Whv Why, Svbil!” Sybil! she she said said nettishlv pettishly “You are fishifig on my side. I want that little fat fish. I’m sure he's got something nice iu him.” “You are welcome to him, I’m sure,” said Sybil, abandoning her game very pleasantly. “I’d rather have that slim little fellow. Perhaps ho hasn’t any¬ thing in him, and then I shall be al¬ lowed to look on.” “Aha!” cried Dick, whoso skilled hand had hooked up the first fish. ‘■‘What have we got here? No. 17. Amv, what is No. 17 —gentleman’s prizo? “You dance with Miss Irwin,” Raid Mrs, Bayard,, putting a box into her brother’s hand. Dick groaned. “Never mind," said Arbuthnot, laugh¬ ing. “We are only going to have six figures. Let us sec what you have got. ” Dick produced a very pretty leather pocket-book, which they were all ad miring, when Miss Evelyn’s cry of tri¬ umph riveted attention on herself. “I’ve got him!” she exclaimed, lifting the fat fish out of the water. But g*eat was her chagrin when she found that it contained no prize at all, and the name of somebody whom she did not like. “I’m afraid I shall not catch anybody, ” said Sybil, who found it quite difficult. “You don’tgo at it right,” said Dick. “Drop your hook down deep, and then bring it up slowly—this way. Try the little fellow over there, That’s right. Gently now. There—aha. What did I tell you? That was well done, wasn’t it, Ainsley?” ‘‘Excellent,” saidi Ainsley. ‘‘Open him—do. lam consumed with curi¬ osity.” Sibyl obeyed, laughingly, expecting nothing. “By Jove!” Dick cried, “She’s hooked the gold ring." Sure enough, inside of the slim little fish lay tho shining band which every one coveted. “It is Hke the Arabian Nights," she said in astonishment “How pretty it isl” And see this French motto inside— ; 4 " 4 .i ta year,” said Arbuthnot, smiling into hor shy, little, flushed face. “I don’t think that’s likely," Sibyl replied. “But I never dreamed of get ting the ring. I wouder how I ever happened to.” “There is no groat mystery, as I can sec,” said Evelyn, with a disagreeable laugh. “A brother of Mrs. Bayard’s ought to be able to prompt ono effect ively." 4liss Ogden,” said Dick, quickly, “I hope you do not think that I know whore the ring was?” “Oh, of course not,” the sarcas tic rejoinder. “Ah, Captain Clyde, ia this you? The music is playing. I sup pose we may as well get into the ball room.” Dick Clyde smothered an exclamation as he turned to Ainsley with a curious look. “You have not fished yet,” ho said. “There is plenty of time,” Arbutlmot answered. “There is Miss Irwin, Dick. She looks appealing.” “You always have your own way, Ainsley,” Dick said, resentfully, and went off to find his partner. Sybil and Mr. Arbuthnot were left alone by the table. ' y ’ “Aren’t vou goiagte fish?" she ask«ft ' “No. l am to lead the german, and it is my peculiar privilege to choose a partner. Will you dance with me, Miss Weir?” v . “Oh, Mr. Arbuthnot, i shall disgrace you.” “I will run the risk,” he said, offering his arm (Which she took shyly. “How pretty that ring looks on your hand! Do you know I have a strong desire to put it on with a wish?” “Well, I haven’t any objections,” said Sybil, blushing faintly. So Ainsley took her small white hand, and put the ring on it, “It will come true in a year, if it comes true at all,” ho said. “Now, come! The german begins at ten t and I must quiet little thing was who danced wish Ainslc y Arbuthnot; and the next day Dick Travers brought a friend to call, Ho found Eve, y n Og^cn alone in her “Miss w Weir . , has gone out to . , hunt a P^c ° ^ she yl said vic.ously.^ slyrWd She wants don’t Dick’s com' paniw)) who wM tho yonth with th# primrose. “Do you think she would take me for a pupil? I am not much on ost .... ^ but the fellows T I “ say am the vel 'y deuco at geography.” A month slipped by and Sybil went home disappointed. It was the wrong .. of ... year, they said. ., She might .... get a plac0 iu the fall, hut there was none vacant now. “I’m afraid I’m not of much account, Aunt Hannah,” she said, despondently, as she sat by the little old study-lamp, thinking it all over. “I might as well have stayed at home, and not spent the money going to town. Indeed,” she added, with a sigh, “it would have been a great deal better.” It was an odd answer to her observa¬ tion, that there came just at that mo¬ ment a ring at the bell, which brought her face to face in the doorway with Ainsley Arbuthnot.” “I have followed you,” he said, hold¬ ing the hand which she gave him. “I found that I could not be happy away from you, and I came to ask, Sybil, whether I might not stay with you always?” “Como in,” sbe said, leading him into the parlor, where only the firelight shone. “Excuse me,” she added, hastily, “I will get a lamp.” ‘This will do,” he said, detaining her. “I jike this best. Sybil, you know what I came for. I love you. Wilt you marry me?” She was a natural girl, without any art or coquetry, and sho answered him, out of her heart: “Yes.” “Then my wish will erne true,” he said, lifting her hand and kissing it where the gold ring spanned her pretty finger. “Do you know what I wished, darling? The ring said that the ycai would bring you a husband, and I wished it might be me. ” It is needless to say that Sybil did not look for any further position. “She ought to be satisfied,” said Eve¬ lyn Ogden, when sho heard of the en¬ gagement. “It is astonishing what good fortune some of those plain girls have. Mr. Arbuthnot is tho best catch of the season.”—[Saturday Night. A railing woman is like a swordfish. j She carries a weapon in her mouth. (RINGS IN TREES. ■ mat «* *■* Growth Have DiselOSed. - „ The Rings Declared Not a True Test of a Tree’s Life/ an|l Every day some pet theory, long held honestly venerated, is being demol¬ ished and sent to the limbo of myth with Tell’i apple, Washington’s cherry tree P'lil other old acquaintances. Now the agf rings in trees have to suffer limboni ratSn, if the word may be allowed. Mr. ft. W. Furras, an agent of tho United States Forestry Department, who has given much attention to tho age of a tree as pefifid indicated by rings, as well as to the at which trees of different species •top growing and that at which the wood is it its best, has reached some con eltlitons of general interest. He says: ^■Concentric or annual rings, which yfi Sri once accepted as good legal evi do^cc, fail, except where climate, soil, temperature, humidity and all other sur roundings are regular and well balanced. Otherwise, they are mere guesswork. TUMi only region within my knowledge Where either rings or measurements were rtSfable indications are in the secluded, J^R f»d regularly tempered valleys of uthern Pacific coast.” measurements of white elm, caftlpa, soft maple, sycamore, pig hick otfi cotton wood, chestnut, box elder, hottey locust, coffee tree, burr and white oak; black walnut, oSftge orange, white pbMj, red cedar, mulberry and yellow ^bw (ninetoen species), made in south eastern^ Nebraska, show that “annual growth Eca ri;ely is perceptible very irregular, and again sometimes quite large,” and this ho attributes to the dif fen # co in seasons. As trees increase in age Inner rings decrease in size, some tun f almost disappearing. Diminished ratejin of growth four after great a beeches certain mentioned age is a Wndon, there were three, each about seventeen feet in girth, whoso ages were a locust,six.yeart shell bark hickory oHy twenty-one of twelve years, rings ten in nag* m a pig hickory of six years, eleven rings in a wild crabapplo of five years, an on y won y rings n a c est nut oak o twenty-four yearn. An Amer man chestnut of only four years had enuring “ ^ ° ‘ ^ had £ ^ Dr M resident of ^ braska from 1854 to 1882, a careful ob server for the Smithsonian Institution, “ T? who , counted ... soft maples rings on some eleven years two months old, found on one side of the heart of one of them forty rings, and not less than thirty-five anywhere, which were quite distinct when the wood was green, but after it had been seasoned only twenty-four rings could be distinguished. Another expert says that all our Northern hard woods make many rings a year, some¬ times as many as twelve, but as the last set of cells in a year’s growth are very small and the first very large, the annual growth can always be determined, ex¬ cept when from local causes there is any particular year a little or no cell growth. This may give a large number on one side. Upon the Pacific coast of North America trees do not reach the point where they stop growing nearly as early as those of the Atlantic coast. Two hundred years is nearly the greatest age attained on the eastern side of the con¬ tinent by trees that retain their vigor, while 500 years is the case of several species on the Western coast, and one writer is con confident that a sequoia which was measured was not less that 2876 years old. At Wrangel, a western hemlock, six feet in diameter at tho stump, was four feet in diameter 182 feet further up the trunk and its rings showed 432 years. Butin the eld Bartram Garden, near Philadelphia, not more than 150 years old, almost all the trees are on the down grade. The Quercus Robar, England’s pride, which at home is said to live 1000 years, has grown to full size and died in this garden, and the foreign spruces are following suit. Silver firs planted in 1800 are decaying. The great differ¬ ence in the longevity of trees upon the western and eastern coasts of continents in the Northern Hemisphere seems to be due to the warm, moist air carried by strong and permanent ocean currents from the tropics northeasterly, in both the Pacific and Atlantic oceans, which make the climate both moist and equable in high latitudes. In Sitka, as much as 100 inches of rain have fallen in a year, and the harbor is rarely frozen enough to hinder the passage of boats, In some winters scarcely any ice is seen. —[Lumber World. _ How to Aet at a Fire. Mr. A. W. C. Shcan recently gave the following simple directions how to act on the occurrence of firo, before the So¬ ciety of Arts: “Firo requires air; there¬ fore, on its appearance every effort should bo made to exclude air, shut all doors and windows. By this means fire may be confined to a single room for a sufficient period to enable all the inmates to be aroused and escape; but if tho doors and windows are thrown open, tho fanning of the wind and the draught will instantly cause the flames to in¬ crease with extraordinary rapidity. It must never be forgotten that the most precious moments are at the commence¬ ment of a fire, and not a single second of time should be lost in tackling it. In a room a tablecloth can be so used as to smother a large sheet of flame, and a cushion may servo to beat it out; a coat or anything similar may be used with equally successful result. The great point is presence of mind, calmness in danger, action guided by reason and thought. In all large houses buckets ’ of water should be placed on every landing, a little salt being put into the water. Al¬ ways endeavor to attack the bed of fire; if you cannot extinguish a fire, shut tho wiudow, and be sure to shut the door when making good your retreat. A wet silk handkerchief tied over the eyes and nose will make breathing possible in the midst of much smoke, and a blanket wetted and wrapped round the body will enable a person to pass through a sheet of flame in comparative safety. Should a lady’s dress catch fire, let the wearer at once lie down; rolling may extinguish the fire, hut if not, anything, woollen preferred, wrapped tightly round will effect tho desired purpose. A burn be¬ comes less painful tho moment air is ex¬ cluded from it. For simplo burns, oil or the white of egg can bo used. One part of carbolic acid to six parts of olive oil is found to be invaluable in most cases, slight or severe, and the first layer of lint should not bo removed till the cure is complete, but saturated by the application of fresh outer layers from time to time. Linen rag soaked in a mixture of equal parts of lime water and . 1 ?---- J «n «| wewj -1----- -wtxect ..Sji IB augf* ■ Common whiting is vory good, applied wet and continually damped with a sponge. —[Cultivator. A Scotch Courtship. A young Aberdonian, bashful, but des¬ perately in love, finding that no notice was taken of his frequent visits to the house of his sweetheart, summoned up sufficient courage to address his fair one thus: “Jean, I wis here on Monday nicht.” “Aye, ye were that,” acknowledged she. “An’ I wis here on Tuesday nicht.” “So ye were.” “An’ I wis here on Wednesday,” con¬ tinued the ardent youth. “Aye, an’ ye were here on Thursday nicht.” “An’ I wis here last nicht, Jean.” “Weel,” she said, “what if yo'were ?” “An’ I am here this nicht agan.” “An’ what oboot it, even if ye cam every nicht?” “What aboot it, did ye say, Jean? Div ye no begin to smell a rat?”—[Dub¬ lin Nation. / Without Injury. The other day a reporter saw a black¬ smith examining an ax, from which he had been asked to removo a portion of tho handle, which had been broken off close to the iron. Tho wood could not be driven out, and as nails had been driven at the end it could not be bored out. “What will you do?” asked the reporter. “I’ll burn it out, ” was the re¬ ply. “But you’ll injure the temper of the steel,” suggested the reporter. “Well, maybe not,” said the smith. He drove the cutting edge into the moist earth and built a fire around the pro¬ jecting part. The wood became charred and was easily removed, while the tem¬ pered part of the ax sustained no injury, —[Philadelphia Call. A Considerate Mendicant. “How is money?” said a middle-aged man, wearing a withered looking prince Albert coat, as he entered the office of a well-known broker. “Is there much of a demand for it now?” “No, sir. Very slight demand.” “Ah! In that case'perhaps you can accommodate me with ten cents to get a night’s lodging with.”-—[Merchant Traveler. The Lost Child. “Please, sir, have you seen a gentle¬ man without a little girl?” “Well,and what if I have, little one?” ‘•My Uncle John has lost me, and I thought if you’d seen a gentleman with¬ out a little girl you could tel! me where he was.”—[Harper’s Young Folks. NO. 3T. Lost Lost—many sunless years Upon the road of life; Old, faded relics, stained with tears, And Bcarred by fruitless strife. Lost, never to be found— Gone, gone forevermore; Swept on the ebbing stream of time, To an eternal shore. They vanished one by one, Each bearing on its breast A life not lived, a work undone, A treasure not possessed; Something for which it seems, My soul has vainly sought, The waking truth of happy dreams, That time has never brought. Alas! the weary days, Unwelcome in the past, Are with me yet; my skies are dark, And night is gathering fast I strain my tearless eyes To pierce the thickening gloom, And, mid the shadows, seem to rise A vision of the tomb. And is this all—is there Beyond life’s troubled wave No healing balm for broken hearty No hope beyond the grave? No haven of repose, No bright abode of rest, No land of promise for the soul By earthly cares oppressed? Oh, yes; poor, fainting heart, By stormy billows tossed, There is a better world than this Whose years are never lost. Believe in Him who bade Tho raging tempest cease, And while eternal ages roll Thou shalt abide in peace. —[Joseph Ij. Butler. HUMOROUS. A great prophet—100 per cent. A shocking thing—An electric eel. A squall makes boats capsize, but makes a baby’s mouth one size larger. An enthusiastic meeting—two girls who haven’t seen each other for an hour. Shakespeare was not a broker; but does any one know who else lias fur¬ nished so many stock quotations? “Now is the accepted time,"remarked the poor young man solemnly when his girl told him sho would have him. A firm who advertised for a boy “to ]ic avv work” received Tn but ono appli cantand he came charge of his father. “Custom made pants," asserts a tailor. Wo do not suppose this fact can be de¬ nied. Custom is responsible for a good many tilings. The waiter’s ready explanation: “How dare you give mo such a dirty napkin as this?" “Beg pardon, sir; got folded the wrong way, sir.” An Ohio factory turns out 57,000,000 matches a day, and yet many a man has barked his shm on a rocking-chair be¬ cause ho didn’t have one of them. Husband (attempting to sing)—“My voice is rather h-hus-husky to-night.” Wife— ‘ ‘No wonder it’s husky 1 You are full of corn.”—[Newman Independent. A young man named Darling lives in Bridgeport, and when any one calls to him in tho street, every young lady near blushes and looks around, gently saying, “Sh, sh.” A news item tells of the marriage of “a widow of only eight days’ standing." It is not surprising that a widow, after standing eight days, should do some¬ thing rash. It is said that the next edition of Webster will describe “yearning” as the “feeling which Eastern people have to get away from Daktoa after passing one winter in that region.” Mother (anxiously)—I’m afraid you are giving the oaby too much sugar, James. Father—Not at all my dear. I want him to be full of grit. “Darling,” he whispered, “did you ever experience a fluttering sensation of the heart—an inward sinking, so to speak?” “Yes, love,” she faintly mur¬ mured. “Why?” “Because, if you have, I know how to prevent it,” “Oh, John, tell me how.” “Why, just use plenty of pepper when you cat cucum¬ bers.” The young, unmarried girl in sport Is called a “bud of promise;” She blooms each year at some resort, The weather when it warm is. And in the Fall a score of men, Whose hearts till now have harm missed, Compare sad notes and find out then To each the “bud” is promised. Taking Time By the Foreloek. The celebrated Dr. Schmidt gives every Monday gratuitous advice to poor patients. Moses Levy enters his room. “What is the matter with you?” asks tho doctor. . / “In reality, nothing,” answered Levy; “but I have heard that to-day you don’t charge anything—perhaps something is the matter with me, after all.”-[Flie gende Blatter.
