Newspaper Page Text
V
NORTH GEORGIA TIMES.
Vol. VIII. New Series.
The Mirage.
They tell us that when weary
deem
They view through quivering heat
the sand
Great rocks for shadow in a weary land,
— And clrstering palms, and fairer yet,
gleam
Where smiles in light to laugh in sound
stream.
This is a work of tame enchanter’s wand,
But that reflected here true visions stand
Of far-off things that close beside
* seem.
So, worn with life's hot march, when near
hand
A happier world we see upon us beem,
Where death and parting need not be
theme,
None i here by toil foref ought, by grief
manned,
Prophets of Science, hush your stem
mand.
Oh I bid us not to hold it all a dream.
—[The Spectator.
RED AND WHITE
BY E. A. CXJSTEB.
“How’s Northwestern this morning,
llnclp Zeke?” asked Dick
across the restaurant table.
“Slumped off six points, blame it 1”
scowling viciously over his paper at the
steak brought by the waiter.
Ezekiel Spriggs laid down his paper,
and picking up his fork, stuck it into
the meat As ho withdrew it and 6aw
the rich, red juice ooze out, his face
brightened, Spriggs wa3 somewhat of
au epicure.
“Six point’s a pretty big drop,” said
Dick, possessing himself ol the paper
and alternating between it and his
breakfast; “how d’ye come out?”
But Spriggs was busily engaged in
tearing off huge pieces of steak and
chewing them with much the samo ex~
pression that a chicken exhibits when
taking a drink of water. Business was
. business, but breakfast was breakfast
just then, and whilo Dick chattered and
read extracts, Spriggs turned his eyes
to the ceiling at every bite and gave
himself up to soulful enjoyment of what
was before him. Dick skimmed lightly
over the news, took*a cursory glanco at
the editorials and paused at tho lower
corner of the page, then he read aloud:
“Possibly the reason why, when a red¬
headed girl appears on the street, a white
horse soon makes its appearance, will have to
be sought for in history. Away back in the
early Greek and Egyptian days, red-haired
girls were justly prized above all—”
“Whadz that?" interrupted Spriggs.
Spriggs was a bachelor and though rich
was not especially addicted to the fair
sex.
Dick leaned thoughtfully back in his
chair. “It’s a dodgasted funny thing,
Uncle Zeke, but it’s a fact, never [knew
it to fail; straight as a string, too.”
“Well, what i3 it?”
“Why, don’t you seo, tho saying is
that where ever you seo a red-headed
girl there is always a white horso in
sight. I believe it now—didn’t at first.
Why only last Sunday night I went to
church with Miss Austin—you ought to
see her, Uncle Zeke--’’ Dick paused
with a piece of steak half-way to his
mouth and gazed yearningly at the
blank wall. “Well, as I was saying, I
went to church; coming out I saw di¬
rectly in front of us a girl with hair
just about as red as you find it. Ono
of the rules of tho gime is that you
must always go somowhero that ii ac¬
cessible to the horse after seeing the red
hair, so I made an excuse about a short
cut and dragged Mabel out the side
door. I thought I had tho white horse
sequence dead this time, but just as wo
came out the door, suro enough tho in¬
evitable white horse came trotting round
the corner. There wasn’t another four¬
legged animal in sight and I didn’t seo
any the whole way home. I’ve tried it
every chance and never knew it to fail.”
Spriggs grunted an inaudible response
and rose from the table. By noon ho
had forgotten all about it but the sight
of a red-hairod girl brought tho subject
to his mind. In spite of its evident ab¬
surdity there, was something odd and
uncanny about the notion and Spriggs
almost unconsciously began to scan
the passers-by. Turning the corner ho
came plump against another maid with
fiery hair and sure enough there, hitched
to a post, was a rather scrawny but an
unmistakable white horse. This was
the beginning of his downfall for there
and then he determined to see exactly
what was in the saying. Now Spriggs
was nothing if not methodical. A long
life of single blessedness and business
training had made him so, and he en¬
tered into the investigation in somewhat
ithe same manner as ho would some great
(business question.
The major part of the next day was
ppent in keeping tally of the horses that
massed his office window; and the fol¬
lowing day in an extended hunt of red-
SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MAY 10, 1888.
•headed girls without regard to their so
called accompaniments. The result
was that while one horse in every fifteen
was white, only one female in thirty-one
had red hair. A series of afternoon sit¬
tings at his club window brought out
tho remarkable fact that for every seven
women that passed, two horses were in
sight. This was to be tho basis of tho
test. Spriggs reasoned that the chance
against the sequenco wero about two to
one, for according to his observations,
in tho ordinary day’s run, there were
twice as many red-haired girls as white
horses. This of course did not allow
for unusual occurrences or for night
travel, when there wero fewer horses on
the street. At the end of
tho first week the result was:
failures, one; verifications, forty
eight. Spriggs did not quite believe in
the thing yet, but the next week was
even more convincing. Tho record
stood: failures, none; success, seventy
four times. By this time it had be¬
come not a definite test to prove the
truth of the saying, but a wild hunt
after an instance where a failure could
be recorded. Night after night Spriggs
prowled around tho streets poering into
the faces of tho pedestrians and fre¬
quenting localities whero there would
bo little likelihood of finding quadru¬
peds. The fever had grown to such an
extent that ho was forced to admit to
himself that there must bo something in
it while ho professed to believe that the
truth needed further investigation.
One day Dick dropped in and taking
Spriggs aside, with much hesitation and
stammering, confided the fact that he
was engaged to bo mairied. “It’s
Mabel Austin, Uncle Zeko, a beautiful
girl
“Light or dark?” asked Spriggs with
a quick look of interest.
“Well, I guess you’ll call her a bru¬
nette, for sho ha3 tho lovoliest black
hair in the world; but I have promised
to bring you to see her tonight. Say
you’ll go, Uncle Zeko—I’ll call for you
at S, shall I?”
It had been many years since Spiiggs
had gone out calling and ho was loth to
begin now, when he needed all his
time for his investigations; however,
he promised and sent his nephew away
rejoicing.
Spriggs found Mabel all that Dick
had claimed for hor, and was well
pleased with his boys choice; yet tho
evening dragged somewhat, and his
dress suit made Uncle Zeko overly con¬
scious of his society shortcomings.
He was near the window for
a moment alone, when he hoard his
name called. Turning quickly, ho saw
Dick approaching with a vision of
loveliness on his arm. I
Ono look was enough, and tho next
instant Spriggs had wheeled about and
jerked aside tho hangings. Trotting
slowly past, and directly under tho
street lamp,' was tho inevitable white
horse.
Thcuho remembered that Dick possi¬
bly wanted to present him, and, drop¬
ping the curtain in great haste, he con¬
fronted the pair. Tho vision had a
cold and haughty look, and Dick was
clearly embarrassed. Spriggs appreciat¬
ed his awkward position fully, and with
a great effort made himself exceedingly
agreeable. Indeed, in his abject hu¬
miliation ho was so devoted that Dick
was led to whisper to his fiancee; “Your
sunny-headed friend seems to havo
caught Uncle Zeke hard.”
When Spriggs went home he sat down
and went over the events of tho evening.
Tho vision was certainly handsome and
could talk as few women were able, but
he shuddered at tho thought of her
hair. It was an unmistakable red.
Nevertheless, he had asked permis¬
sion to call and it had
been graciously granted. Spriggs
called and then called again. In a short
time his leisure hours wero about evenly
divided between his investigations and
the vision. Spriggs was struck hard, so
hard, indeed, that when in her delight¬
ful presence he almost forgot his hobby.
He invariably hired a white horse, how¬
ever, when he took hor out driving.
Once he had the temerity to try a bay
horse, but he never repeated the experi¬
ment. He was uneasy the whole time,
for while his heart and soul wero with
his companion his mind and eyes sadly
missed the familiar sequence.
One evening as matters were ap¬
proaching a crisis, Spriggs found him¬
self seated in close proximity to his
inamorata. He had fully made up his
mind to settle the matter at once and
have done with it. There was just
enough of manly conceit about him to
make him feel assured that his suit
would not be unsuccessful, but it was
with considerable trepidation that he
approached the subject. The conversa¬
tion had drifted, as lover’s talk invari¬
ably will, to the personal, and Spriggs
was expatiating on early struggles and
ambitions.
“I had a hard time when I was
young,” he was saying. “My nature
was not one to make friends readily,
and female friends wero exceedingly
rare. Indeed, my mother was the only
woman with whom I felt really at ease.
Then, as my business grow, I had so
much to attend to that social pleasures
were almost unknown.”
There was silence for a moment ; both
intuitively felt that tho time was al¬
most at hand. Tho vision was seated
facing the deep bay window with her
head just touching the curtains, while
Spriggs sat so that his back was to¬
wards the street. Ho generally sat that
way when in her company, to avoid the
temptation of looking out when he
heard a horse passing.
Then Spriggs meditatively resumed:
“Until lately I thought that I should
always move along in tho rut I had
fallen into, but now I am bold enough
to hope for something infinitely better.”
As Spriggs in his earnestness leaned
forward his quick ear hoard tho distant
pit-a-pat of a trotting horse. His first
impulse was to turn and look out, but
with a mighty effort he restrained him¬
self, and, loaning still further, ho
groped blindly, excitedly for her hand.
Nearer and nearer came tho horse, but
Spriggs now had a firm grasp on her
hand.
“I do hope for something infinitely
better, and—and—■”
“Well,” softly breathed the vision,
while her glorious eyes gazed dreamily
past him into tho deepening night.
“And—and now it all rests on a
singlo word. Can you—will you—dear
Miss Lucy—is that a white horso?”
Dick Spriggs said the othor day that
if he did not read tho papers for him¬
self every morning ho would imagine
from Uncle Zcko’s appearance that
Northwestern had slumped off about
GOO points,—[Detroit Free Press.
A Man Attacked by Squirrels.
Col. J. L, Culbertson of Edw^rds
port, Ind., tells this story of his expe¬
rience in 1854 or thereabouts, the time
of the great migration of squirrels from
the cast to tho west. Tho Evansville
Courier, which publishes tho story, says
that tho colonel is a gentleman of “un¬
questioned truth and honesty.” He was
a young man then, and one day took his
rifle and went about a mile from town
to hunt. He was going through the
woods when ho met the army of squir¬
him and seemed so fearless that he stood
in amazement. Finally he struck ono
with a stick. Tho squirrel uttered a
sharp squeak and instantly myriads of
squirrols from all directions rushed to
tho dofenco of their associate and at¬
tacked Mr. Culbertson, who kicked
them off and clubbed at them with his
gun. They climbed up his legs, jumped
upon his back, and on top of his head.
He fought desperately, hut the more he
succeeded in hurting the louder the
chattering and screaming around him
became, which only brought greater
numbers of tho infuriated little animals
to the attack. They bit his legs and
arim and gashed his face and neck and
lacerated his hands, fairly scrambling
over each other in their fierce assault.
Ho dropped his gun and retreated as
fast as ho could, fighting desperately as
he went. Blood streamed down his
face and neck and hands. They bit
him through the ears, and held on until
they actually tore their hold loose. He
got out of the woods, and still scores
followed him and clung to him until
they were pulled off by the clerk and
others in a store into which youQg Cul¬
bertson rushed for assistance. Some of
the friends v/ho helped to pull off the
squirrels, and who saw hiqi come into
town literally beset with them, still re
sido at Edwardsport. His friends
washed his wounds and stayed the flow
of blood which trickled down his legs
and back and gushed from his face and
neck, and, with good care and atten¬
tion, he slowly recovered.
The Brewer Boiled a Boy.
At the brewery of a small place in
Saxony an apprentice boy had tho other
day fallen into a caldron of boiling
fluid and was scalded to death. The
news spread that the fluid had not been
thrown away, but was finished in the
usual way and regularly drawn off in
barrels and bottles. Thereupon the in¬
habitants were greatly alarmed, and a
boycott was laid upon tho brewery’s
drink. Tho brewer then published a
declaration that not a drop of the fluid
in which the boy had been boiled was
sold to the public, but that in considera
tion of the sunorior virtuos of such a
beverage it had all been reserved for
use in the brewer’s family.—[Chicago
Herald.
OCEAN OIL WELLS.
Where Oil Abounds Under the
Waters of the Pacific.
Some Submarine Springs That
Have Been Encountered.
With the pilot chart for November
last there was issued a statement rela¬
tive to tho possible existence of sub¬
marine oil springs—as indicatedby vari¬
ous reports received from shipmasters
on the Atlantic and in the Gulf of
Mexico—which, in view of tho possi
pf their commercial value, made
the matter of- general interest. Montion
was made in this connection also of a
well known spot near Sabine pass, on
tho gulf coast, called tho “oil pond,"
whero small vessels run in and anchor
during heavy weather, tho water there
being comparatively smooth owing to a
quantity of oil or oily mud, which rises
to the surface. It was also said that no
such reports had been received from
the Pacific coast. Since then,howover,
ns a result of tho interest elicited by tho
announcement, sevoral reports linvo
been received which are incorporated in
tho monthly report of the hydrographic
office for February, briefly as follows;
The attention of the hydrographers
was first called to a letter from Thomas
K. Griffin, of San Francisco, published
jn tho New York Maritimo Register, in
which ,he states that submarine oil
springs exist on tho Pacific coast. The
most pronounced is off what is known as
“Coal Oil Point,” about ono and a quar¬
ter miles west of Qoleta and ten miles
west of Santa Barbara. Mr. Griffin sup¬
plied information from several masters
of vessels who havo cruised in those
waters, and their reports aro so clear
and consistent as to leave little room for
doubt of the existence of such subma¬
rine oil springs off that coast.
Captain Van Holmes, of tho American
steamship Los Angelos, says that when
a vessel passos through tho region of
this spring tho smell of oil is so strong
ns frequently to cause nausea among tho
passengers and crow, and in certain
SfiOts the oil can bo distinctly seen bub¬
bling up on the surface.
Captain Wallace, of the American
steamship City of Chester, Captain
Ingalls, of the American steamship
Santa Rosa, and Captain Alexander, of
the American steamship Queen of the
Pacific, testifiy that tlicro aro other
similar springs on tho Pacific coast,
though not so pronounced as tho former.
Captain Wallace locates tho largo spring
about eightoen miles west of Santa
Barbara, Cal., and states that the sur¬
face of the ocean is frequently covered
for miles with tho oil. Ho has also
seen oil floating on the water to the
north of Cape Mendocino, from three
to five miles off shore, and thinks there
is another spring thero. Captain
Plumber, of the American steamship
Gypsy, who has sailed seventeen years
in these waters, confirms tho abovo
statements, and says tho belt of oil
abovo Santa Barbara can be sees the
darkest night when sailing through it.
A very full and interesting statement
has also been received from Captain
Goodall of the Pacific Coast Steamship
Company, who refers to the fact that
Goleta Point is known to masters of
steamships as “Coal Oil Point” on ac¬
count of the oil breast of it rising from
tho bottom of the sea. On a calm day
the water is covered for miles with oil,
bubbles of which can be seen rising to
the surfaco and spreading over it. Al¬
though it does not seem to smooth
tho water like animal oil, yet, on a
windy day, you can see a slick of oil on
the surface. This spot is so well known
by shipmasters that the smell of tho oil
is used as a guide in foggy weather, the
petroleum smell being so strong that a
captain can never mistake his position
when off that point. Captain Goodall
sayij also that he has noticed a small
flow of oil from the bottom of the sea
off Cojo Point near Point Conception,
but thero the amount of oil is very
small. It cannot bo seen bubbling up
from the bottom, but is often visible on
tho surface, tho odor being very per¬
ceptible.
Bitumen is known to be generally dis¬
tributed through the coast ranges to the
southward of San Francisco, and pe¬
troleum wells and tar springs have been
found at places. It soems probable,
therefore, that tho oil-bearing strata
crops out here and there at the bottom
of the sea off the coast, or else that tho
oil escapes through the crevicos in the
overlying strata and rises to the Burface.
Such submarine oil springs are known to
exist at certain other places, the bay of
Cumana, Venezuela, for example, where
petroleum rises and spreads upon the
surface; and it is said that, off the is-
land of Trinidad, West Indies, there
arc submarine volcanoes, which oc¬
casionally boil up and discharge a
quantity of petroleum.—[Commercial
Advertiser.
Tho Story of a Rare riant
Years ago Dr. Asa Gray was studying
in Paris, and in a herbarium there came
across a small, broken and imperfect
specimen marked simply “Prom Amer¬
ica," which interested him much. F.om
tho fragments before him ho recon¬
structed the wholo plant. His work
was approvod by the botanists about him,
and he named the little plant “Shortia
Galacifolia” in honor of Dr. Charles W.
Short, tho distinguished botanist But
no live specimens of tho plant could bo
found. Years passed on and it had
never beon seen. At last a botanist at
work in Japan found and named a plant
which seemed to be of a genus closely
allied to tho Shortia. Dr. Gray corre¬
sponded with the botanist, and it was
concluded that tho doctor had been in
error and had mistaken a specimen of
tho Japanese genus. So the Shortia
was generally loft out of the list of
plants by systematic botanists.
But twenty years after this,
as Dr. Goodalo and Professor
Watson wero one day in the library of
tho University, they heard a shout of
triumph from the horbarium and rushed
in to find Dr. Gray waving a small plant
about in tho wildest enthusiasm. “Look
at it l What is it?” he cried. The two
botanists examined it as directed and
recognized tho characteristics of the
much-discussed plant. “It is tho
Shortia," thoy exclaimed. The speci¬
men had beon sent by a house in the
South which made a business of putting
up modicinal herbs. It had been
brought in from some hitherto unex¬
plored nook in tho mountains by one of
their collectors, and sont to tho pro¬
fessor for identification. It proved in¬
deed to be the Shortia, which was there¬
fore once more reinstated in the floral
family, greatly to Dr. Gray’s delight.
Dr. Gray afterward visited the locality
in which the plant was found, and pro¬
cured a iiviDg specimen for the botani¬
cal garden.—[New York Tribune.
A Now International Language.
A common language for the whole
civilized world has been for several cen¬
turies ono of the dreams of poets,
philosophers and religionists. It has
been ono of thoso ideas that would not
down, but which in spite of failuro after
failure has continued to recur at inter¬
vals with new claims for interest as na¬
tions of the world havo been knit closer
and closer together. Leibnitz tried the
task of formulating such a languago in
tho latter part of tho seventeenth cen¬
tury, hut gavo it up in despair. Bishop
Wilkins, Abbo Sicard, Baehmoior and
Mezzofanti havo at intervals continued
to rekindle tho world's interest in tho
scheme. Leibnitz, Bachmeior, and Mez¬
zofanti all hailed from Germany, and
from tho samo philological nation comes
the latest apostle, the inventor of Vola
puk. Volapuk (pronounced folapiek) is
an
attempt to invent an international
language drawn in part from all civilized
tongues. Its grammar i3 almost noth¬
ing, consisting in a few simplo rule3
which havo no exceptions or irregulari¬
ties and which, when printed, makes a
small four-page leaflet. The vocabulary
embraces now only a few thousand
words, those of most common use, but
is steadily growing. Interest in this
country has hardly been awakened as
yet, but in Italy, there aro already seven
Volapuk societies and others in Spain,
France, Germany, Austria and lower
Russia, numbering 130 in all. Pamphlet
has followed pamphlet, lecture has suc¬
ceeded lecture, and nine periodicals are
published in Volapuk exclusively. The
inventor is a humble Catholic priest, Jo¬
hann M. Schleyer, living at Constance,
Germany, on a pension of $350 a year,
who has taken advantage of his retire¬
ment to study more or less thoroughly
sixty languages and dialects.— r [Voica
Emperor Dom Pedro's Generosity,
The following story is told of the
emperor of Brazil: Tho other day at
Cannes the editor of a scientific French
journal waited upon his majesty, with
the request that he would contribute
somo articles on matters of scientific in¬
terest connected with his dominion.
“Certainly," replied tho emperor, “but
what rate of pay do you give?” The
man of letters though a little surprised,
having named what ho was in the habit
of giving, Dom Pedro added, smiling:
“Yes, that will do very well. You see
I would gladly write for nothing, but I
am not at liberty to do so, as ever since
I began writing I have my' given every
penny I havo earned by brains to an
orphan asylum in my capital. —[Home
Journal.
NO, 14.
The Little Grave on the H1IL
There’s a spot on the hillside far away,
Where in summer the grass grows green;
Where, beneath a rushing elm tree’s shade
A moss covered stone is seen.
*Tis a quiet and unfrequented spot,
A solitude lone and wild;
Yet—somebody’s hopes are buried there—
’Tis the grave of a little child.
In winter, alas! that mossy stone
Is hid ’neath a shroud of snow;
But around it, in springtime, fresh and
sweet,
The daisies and violeis grow;
Anil o’er it tho summer breezes blow,
With a fragrance soft and mild,
And the autumn’s dead leaves thickly strew
That grave of a little child.
And every year there’s a redbreast comes,
When the month of May is nigh,
And builds her nest in this quiet spot,
v 'Mill tho elm trees 1 b r a n e* irs J t,'ghp ,
With her melody sweet by the hour shs
trills,
As it by the scene beguiled;
Perhaps—who knows? 'tis an angel comes
To the grave of that little child.
Yes, somebody’s hopes lie buried there,
Some mother is weeping in vain.
For, though years may come and years may
80,
'Twill never come lack again.
Yet blessed are those who die in youth,
The pure and undefiled;
Some road to Heaven, perchance, rum
through
That grave of a little child.
HUMOROUS.
The public will surely sour on tho
vinegar trust
Old flames frequently get together
and make a parlor match.
Tho parlor is probably tho most fre¬
quented of all court rooms.
Don't judgo by appearances. A brand
new coat may cover a wire dummy. *
If you just itch for anything, you may
bo ablo to get it by scratching around
lively.
It reads a trifle paradoxical to seo a
cargo of salt cod noticed under tho head
of fresh arrivals.
Two heads are better than ono, es¬
pecially for a man who wants to go round
tho country with a circus.
It is a notable fact that howover
cleanly seamen may bo on tho water
they have a decided dislike to being
washed ashore.
Perhaps somo of tho people who are
looking for nice, fat jobs could be ac¬
commodated if they would apply at a
lard rendering establishment.
“Papa, where’s Atoms?” “Atoms? I
don’t know, my boy. You mean Athens,
probably.” “No, I mean Atoms—tho
place where everything is blown to.”
“Do you rectify mistakes hero?”
asked a gentleman as he stepped into a
drug store. “Yes, sir, we do, if the
patient is still alive,” replied the ur¬
bane ciork.
A London druggist has hit the popu¬
lar taste for good bargains. In his win¬
dows he displays a card that reads,
“Come in and get twelve emetics for
ono shilling.”
A school teacher recently asked her
class the question: “What is a pilot?”
Tho smart boy answered: “It is a lot
where they grow pie-plant,” and was
sent to the foot of tho class.
Grandma (coming in unexpectedly)—
Why, Tommy, what havo you been do¬
ing to Poll? Sho looks as if she’d had a
conniption fit I Tommy—Polly said
something about wanting mo to
crack her, and I did.
“Thero is something about you, Mr.
Secondshelf, which tells mo that you
must have had a heart-history 1” and she
gazed upon him with intense, soulful
eyes. “No, in’m," ho said: “I ain’t
just right there, but it’s only cigar¬
ettes.”
“Will you love me when I’m old?"
sang the ancient soubrette. “How
old?” came in a shrill voice from tho
gallery. The singer did not reply, hut
the audience smiled when the curtain
dropped,showing a century plant in full
bloom.
Merchant (buying a bill of goods of a
Chicago drummer)—What is your usu¬
al time, thirty days? Chicago drum¬
mer (absent mindedly)—Yes; or $10.
I alvyays pay tho fine--oh--cr-I bog
pardon; yes, thirty days, or 3 per cent,
off for cash.
When yesterday I asked you, love,
One little word to say,
Your brother interrupted us;
So please say yes-terday.
A Unkind Cut.
“I hear that you are engaged, M*
mie?”
“It is true.”
“Then mother was right."
“What about?”
“She said you would be engaged be¬
fore leap year was over,”—[Boston
Courier.