North Georgia times. (Spring Place, Ga.) 1879-1891, June 21, 1888, Image 1

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North Georgia times., June 21, 1888, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextNORTH GEORGIA f TIMES. Vol. VIII. New Series. All’s at an End. ” - . Tl» breach is made—false friend, adieu. All’s at an end between us two. Let others come, with power and praise. To blot your image from my days; Th.-t shining past, its colors fade— * Til have no more—the breach is made. f AH'satanendt Proud instinct lies! There is no end to human ties; > • My voice has learned an alieu tone; My very look repeats your own; Out natures act in foe and friend— ' In t vain we cry, All’s at an end. —[Dora Reed Goodale, in Harpers’ LTJOY’S BURGLAR. BT HELEN FORREST GRAVES. It was very lonesome at Aunt Jocas ta’s—lonesome, even though I 1 just como from tho wildernesses ©f New Hampshiro mountain h a r crowded streets of Ne'- ✓me into tho I had had my dre v York, had fancied that ’ *ms of a career, I mine this city expedition of was a so- .c of mission to Aviat Jo C P alii A ^ -elicato ° A 1 pictured to mysolf a ’ woman, much needing BU a c 've, sympathetic niece like rr - young >yself. I But the first sight of Aunt Jocasta, Standing with her arm3 akimbo under ‘the fluttering shadow of n wholo grove >of second-hand gowns and polonaises— dn which useful articles she dealt—dis¬ pelled these visionary ideas to tho four V'vlnds of heaven. Sho was simply a fat, vulgar old wo man—neither moro nor less. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” said Aunt Jo¬ casta, as I alighted from tho cab in tho sultry dimness of the August twilight. “You’d ought to hev como in tho horse cars. ’Twouidn’t hev cost near so much. Or I'd hov met you if you'd let mo know, and w T e could hev como down in tho elevated. So you’re Maria’s dar¬ ter, be you? Don’t favor her much, I calculate. No, cabby; don’t you bo tryin' to como no such games one me! Seventy-five cents is your fare, and you’ll not get a cent more” (snatching from my hand the silver dollar which, 3n obedience to the demand of my Jehu, I was.timidly proffering him.) The cabman muttered somo vary un¬ complimentary remarks, but jumped on his box and drovo away, white Aunt Jocasta led me through a stuffy littlo store, filled with different varieties of second-hand articles, from a sofa pil¬ low to a pair of brass fire-dogs, inf Jft dingy back parlor smelling stror of blue-mold and yesterday’s griddle* cakes, and beckoned me to take a slip pery, , horse-hair-covered , . chair in tho corner. “So you’ve corns, to , t hcv you? .. said she. “If—if I - can bo of any comfort to you, sa'^ d f ee ii n g rca qy t 0 burst into tear , “Oh,’taint that,” said tho old lady, lifting the lid oi a fat, black tea-kettle, which was singing on tho stove, and peering curiously into Us depths. “I don’t need no comfortin’. I s’pose, though, there was lots o' gals to home, and your ma was glad to got ono of ’em effn her hands.” , “I assure you that was not the treason," I burst out. “I came—I •came—-’’ “Well, it don’t matter what you came fori said Aunt Jocasta. “You’re here, •and there’s an end of tho matter!” ' Sho regaled me on boiled lobster and lettuce for supper, during which meal »he was frequently summoned to tho lehop by sharp, peremptory rings of the little bell on the door, and I was Tendered extremely nervous by hear¬ ing the details of one or two of tho «harp bargains which sho drove across the counter. “I do hope, if you’re going to stay," said she, returning after ono of theso verbal battles, “you’ll bo ablo to tako some of these bothers off my hands. It’s dreadful tryia’ not to bo let to take one’s tea in peace. And a fresh lobster at that, and salad fit for the queen.” I said nothing, but secretly calcu¬ lated in my own mind whother I had money enough to tako ma back to Gooseberry mountain tho next day. It wa3 painfully evident to me that my Aunt Jocasta and I had our being in altogether different spheres. After supper, Aunt Jocasta went to sleep and snoredj until she was roused by the appearance of a pert lady’s-maid, with a package under her arm—one of her mistress’ cast-off ball dresses, which she was commissioned to sell. I Afterward, a slim-legged little boy arrived on the scene, with a copper tea¬ kettle to dispose of; and, last of all, a little old man came in, and, after a prolonged siege of chaffering, carried off more than a third of the stock in trade, tied into a compact bundle. After this, thero was a lively chase down the street after a miserable, SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JUNE 21, 1888. pasty-faced little girl who had been caught stealing ono of the gay, sil> hand kerchiefs that hung from t> Q awmng overhead. I wou:d fain have interred for the trembling, panting c<dl u bttt nearest aunt promptly policeman, delivery hcr oVct to tl / 0 against her in co’ agreeing to appear while mob jrt the next morning, a of men, women and chil dren, who m Xght have ascended from tho cracks ii the pavement, instantly did the , so / appear, collected around tho i in various stages of frantic curios /•> And this was the horno for which had so foolishly left the sweet old farm¬ house under tho New Hampshire maple treesl If ever poor mortal was wretch¬ edly homesick, it was I. At last, Aunt Jocasta tied on a snuffy old bonnet, that looked as if it might have been slept in every night for a week, and announced hcr inten¬ tion of “runnin’ around” to a fiiend of hers for a few minutes. “Tho shop is shut,” said she, “and you can pull out tho sofy-bedstead and go to bed any timo you please. Til let myself in with a night-key when I come in.” I gazed mournfully at the uninviting old sofa, which was eventually to be transformed into my resting-place; and then was the time, loft all alono by tho light of a keroseno lamp, that smoked badly, in which I tasted the keenest bitterness of my lonely lot. Tho rustling of tho mnplo trees under Gooseberry mountain, the rush of White Cascade, the hooting of owls in tho trackless forest—all those sounds would havo boon as music to my . ears cox pared with tho muffled roar of wheels, tho rise and fall of distant voicos, the indescribable murmur of city life that surrounded mo hero. Just thon a peculiar sound struck on my oar—tho grating of a key in a lock. I started up, every word that I had ever read or heard of tho audacity of New A ork burglars recurring freshly to my mind. The sound still continued. It was nearer than I had at first imag ined. I rose up, trembling, and shrank back into the darkest corner of the room, as a tall, d-.ric -haired young man came stealthily in, with a light cloak thrown pictiiresquely across ono shoulder. But then I remembered my duty to Aunt Jocasta. That must be performed Rt all hazards. And seizing up tho old fashioned brass warming-pan which stood on one end in tho corner, I rushed at him without a second’s delay. “Go away from herd" Icrie'3. “Po¬ lice 1 Help! help! Police I Go away this momontl” I had the satisfaction of hearing my brass warming-pan riag a lively salute against tho head of my amazed enemy; but just at that moment I caught my foot in a rip in the carpet and fell head¬ long to tho floor, warming-pan and all. Iu a second, my ant igoniit, minm tho hat which my implement of warfare had knocked off, stood over mo. “You little vixen!” said he. “What ought I to do to you? What do you Ihiuk you deserve?” “Police!” I shrieked, resolute to the last, although a sickoning sensation of pain thrilled through every nerve, and I knew that my left elbow was boat uu der me. But tho word died away into a moan “Are you hurt?” the burglar asked. *‘I—I think I’vo broken my arm,” I wailed. ‘ Bat, oh, please go away! Reflect what an awful thing it is to break the commandment about stealing I You are young yet—at least you don’t look very old —and surely you can't bo ontircly hardened to a life of sin. Please promise never to do so any more---and I'll let you go this time. Only promise 1” The tall burglar was looking down at me with a grave, solicitous face, across which came a shadow of amusement at my words. "You’ll let mo go, will you?” said he. “Very considerate of you, I’m sure. But the question is now how to get you up from tho floor without hurting you. You seem to bo all tangled up in that trass concern there.” “If you will take hold of my hand,” said I, “I think I can pull myself up.” And so the burglar and I succeeded in hoisting myself up and getting me on a chair. “That will do,” said I, with dignity. “No go. At once I" “But why should I go," said tho young man. “Hodge upstairs. Didn't you know that? Mrs. Podberry keeps the key of my room in here, and I just came to get it, as usual. ” “Are not you a burglar?” said I, with an effort. “No," said the young man; “I’m a telegraph operator. But you’re grow¬ ing paler every minute. Shall I run for a doctor!” The next thing I know was that Aunt Jccasta was liberally besprinkling me with Florida water; a doctor was ban¬ daging up my broken arm, with my burglar assisting, after a most scientific fashion, in the background. “However did you do itt ’ said Aunt Jocasta. “Hitting folks over the heads with warming-pans, and breaking your own arm, goodness knows howl One might know you wore from the country, taking decent people for burglars, and raising, the whole neighborhood like this l”' “(Tonight interposed know sho was frem tho count tho telograph operator, laughing, “becnwsa sho is so good and gentle and if iwmp’.&iuiag. Besides, things did look rather sus¬ picious for mo, Mrs. Pod berry, you must own,” “Well, I meant to her told her about your key, Mr. Harford,” said my auut; “but I clean forgot it. I don’t s’poso the child's so much to blame, after all; but it would seem as if one might know a burglar from a gontleman, anyhow ycu can fix it. And now, if you’re done with Lucy’s arm, doctor, do look artor that cut on Mr. Harford’s head—bleediu’ . steady, all over his hair,” I stared with terrified eyes, la “Did—I do that?” I gaspod, “Not you,” said Harford. “It was tho warming-pan that did it—an evil minded sort of wirming-psn, since it first wounded me and then flung you over.” Did ever acquaintance commence less auspiciously? Yet, after all, I might havo beon saved thoso bitter tears of mortification and shame, since Mr. Harford protested that the cut was nothing—-a mere scratch of the skin-- and persisted in regarding the wholo thing as an admirablo joke. In fact, it only seemed -to make ui excel¬ lent friends. My Aunt Jocasta, however, did not improvo on acquaintance, ns I had hope! sho would. Perhaps thero is something antagonistic togeatloness and refinement iu this second-hand business. At alt events, I was heartily glad when my arm was well enough tojjo to Goose¬ berry, Mountain. “I shall never want to come back to New York again," said I, after Mr. Harford had seen to tho checking of my baggage, and Wo stood together in the shelter of tho Grand Central depot, waiting for the great gates to open. “Not even if I asked you?" said H ir ford. It was nearly dark, and no ono could see that ho hrd takon my hand in hi3. “You!” I echoed. “I’ve beon trying for tho last week to ask you to bo my wife," said ho. “It’s my last chance now. Toll me, Lucy, do you think you could lovo nsj enough to marry me?” “I—I don’t know,” I stammered;“but I might try.” He stooped ond kissed mo under the shadow of tho monster poke hat that I woro. “My own darling,” he whispered “write when you get homo and perhaps I’ll come out and sec you in a week or two.” So I am engaged to Walter Harford, after ail, and I think it extremely likely that I shall spend tho rest of my days in New York. An d I should bo quite, quite happy, if I could only forget that shocking cpisodo of tho brass warming pan.—[Saturday Night. Oyster-Eating Monkeys. Monkeys seem to know what is tooth¬ some. A species of them mikes a daily repast upon oysters. A string of some two hundred small islands called Merghi is located near the coast of British Bur mah, the largest of which are less than thirty by seven miles. There are' les 3 than a thousand people on all of them, not enough to interfere perceptibly with tho animal world, consisting of al kinds of tropical creatures—serpents, tigers, bears, rhinoceroses and many kinds of monkeys. Denso forests sup¬ ply ample dwelling places for all of them. There is a Macacua among them, says Carpenter in Nature, that feed on the oysters loft daily on tho beach by the retiring flood. They emerge in largo numbers from tho wood, go to tho beach and pick stones not larger than can bo well grasped with their hands, and then proceed to the edge of tho water. Having picked out an oyster, tho monkey holds it with one hand, and with the stone in the other breaks the upper shell, which accomplished, his nimble fingers pull out the mollusk, which he devours with avidity. “Did you make any money out West!’’ “Not a dollar 1” “What was the mat¬ ter?” “The United States detectives got onto me, and I had to leave plates^ dies, and everything in a hurry.” AMERICAN GLACIERS. A Sublime Feature in the Moun¬ tain Landscape of the North. America’s Icy Giant, the “Great Glacier of the Selkirks.” The United States is just a degreo or so too far south to bo able to support glaciers of any account, although some of its mountain ranges are lolty. Upon the Cascado Range of Oregon and Washington territory many glaciers of good size exist, and a few remnants aro found in tho Sierra Nevada and that northern branch of tho Rockios called tho Wind River range. From the Canadian boundary north¬ ward, however, the whole of tho intri¬ cate mountain system covering British Columbia is sfulded with glaciers, which aro encountered at less and less elevation ns you go north¬ ward, until, iu tho gorge of the Skeena river and the fiords of the Alaskan coast, they descend into the very sea. The whole breadth of theso mountains i is now traversed by tho Canadian Pa cific railway, and from the car windows dozens of glaciers are plainly visible. They begin with the ascent of tho east¬ ern slope of the Rocky mountains, ar.d only disappear when the coast range has been left behind, and the Pacific is almost in sight, 500 miles west of the first experience. In tho Rockies tho ice is restricted to tho bare summit re - gion, and nowhere (at least near the railway) descends below timber lino. In the Selkirk and Gold ranges, at the sources of ths Columbia river, west of tho Rockies, however, the ice reaches far down into tho denso forests of gi¬ gantic co-lar and fir, which cover the "valleys and lower part of tho peaks. Tho most extensive of all these gla ciers occupies a very lofty plateau at tho summit of the magnificent Selkirk mountains, just wcs'gof the railway pass, •■ftud sends down huge arms into several radiating ravines. This plateau, which scores vi fifiies iii • extent, aud en¬ circled by peaks that rise far into the realms of perpetual winter, is wholly covered by a snow fio’.d, underlaid with solid ice of great depth, and tiro “Great Glacier of tho Selkirks,” together with several others visible from tho cars, arc only overflows of this wido mer do glace, pusliod through gaps iu tho rim of cliffs, and forming outlets for tho constantly augmented congelation. Within a nrilo of tho foot of tho Great Glacier stands the railway station called Glacier. This is littlo moro than a hotel, which has boon built by the rail¬ way company for tho accommodation of tourists, and ismost excellently main¬ tained. It stands half-way up an enor¬ mous ravino, which below sinks into n pit somo miles in diameter, whence the Illicilliwast River affjrds tho railway a passage out of the mountains westward, and which is surroundod by snowy aud grandly outlined peaks. Down this ravine comes au impetuous river whose water, like that of nearly all tho other streams in these mountains, is white as milk, declaring its glacial birth; and up tho banks of this most romantic stream, through a forest of trees, somo of which arc moro than 250 feet in height, a good path leads to tho foot of the glacier. Deef ly ensconced below in tho green forest, and overshadowed above by gi¬ gantic walls and pinnacles, dark, snow streaked rock, the glacier forms a sub¬ lime feature in the mountain landscape from many distant points of view; but when ono comes suddenly cut of the woods at a point in tho path only 500 yards from tho ico, tho scene that bursts upon his vision is most impres¬ sive. Between two prodigious mount¬ ains, whoso splintered battlements arc unrelieved by anything less stern than patches of snow, lies a slopo of ico ten miles in length and a third of that in width. It is broadest at the top, where it rests in jagged outline against the sky some 2000 feet above your stand¬ point, then diminishes somewhat toward 1 its rounded, convex forefoot, so that its whole shape'is that of a saddle-flap. At tho top the ico has broken into a per¬ fect chaos as it fell over tho steep rim of the plateau; but lower down, where the slope is easier, its sur¬ face shows almost unbroken and billowy outlines, conforming to the trough of its bed. The general color is grayish white, tho delicate gradations of which mark tho undulating variations of the surface; hut tho broken masses at the crest, the numerous crevasses or cracks which deeply scam its surfaco in all directions (but most often crosswise) and the profound rifts and breakages where the ice steadily breaks down at tho foot, aro vivid bluo, or in si mo lights clear grass green. But these colors and gradations of tint vary with every alternation of sunlight and cloud shadow. At each side of tho glacier are great ridges of broken rocks and bowlders (moraines), that upon tho left beiug particularly prominent. In front of it is a wido area of bowlders and gravel, through which tricklo a number of rivulets, speedily uniting into tho liver, which half a mile down receives a powerful tributary from another glacier belonging to tho same sys¬ tem. Theso rivulets como from hol¬ lows that reach far under tho ice— gleaming bluo tunnels, lighted by the crevasses that let azure rays filter into their depths. But it is unsafe to creep into any of these crypts, for masses of ice aro continually falling. Farther up the side, however, thero is a cavern in the ice, wlicnco once, no doubt, issued a large stream, now diverted, and hero one can enter and remain in safety. It is like a cavity carved in a mass of turquoise. Tho rugged walls aro lu¬ minous bluo, and tho very atmosphere of this wonderful cave is saturated with the same rich color.—[Harper’s Weekly. Western Catilo and Telegraph Poles. The Union Pacifio train runs for miles, hundreds of miles, along the Platte and South Platte rivers, and you begin to sec that the engineers of theso western railroads must have loved the rivers, for they followed them very closely, and when they get further on among the mountains there is no stream so perverse, or crooked iu its ways that the engineer will depart from it. Theso aro tho piaius, where little or no raiu falls, where practically nothing but grass grows without irrigation. I believe the rain belt lias, in theso last thirty years, movod west in Kansas and Nebraska somo ono or two hundred miles, and that thero arc now many pro¬ ductive farms where even so recently it was thought useless to try to raiso crops. But tho rain belt has yet plenty of room to go west in. Thero is water in tho South Platte, and at times a good deni of it—a. broad, shallow river with low banks, running through a fl it and level country, flat and level for miles and miles, with hero and thero an irri¬ gated spot and with soma groat irrigat¬ ing ditches dug by companies that havo spent lots of money in tho work—but the country is mostly given up to stock raising, and tho stock stays out all win¬ ter. Tho grass cures on tho ground, and the cattle eat it tlio year round, for it is seldom all covered with snow. Tho cattlo go to the river or to other streams or wot places for water. They wear trails across tho plains in their marches, and many paths are worn to and from tho telegraph poles atong the railroads, which the cattle march to to scratch themselves on. Sometimes for miles tho lower parts of tho telegraph polos are worn as smooth a3 though they had been sandpapered, by tho scratching of tho cattle.—[New York Sun. A Hasty Meal. Olivo oil is tho great product of tho province of Otranto, in Italy, says a tourist, and at Brindisi it is worth while to visit ono of the houses where tho merchants keep this valuahlo com¬ modity. They havo 'arge cisterns, liko tanners’ vats. Between theso there is small standing-room, and I was warned to take care not to fall in; one may be very fond of bathing, and yet not care for a dip in olivo oil. They tell of a dog that fell in ono day, but, luckily, was got out, dripping with this oil, so valuable here as a sub¬ stitute for butter. A crowd hunted tho poor boast with pieces of bread, rubbing them on him for tho oil, and eating as they ran all through tho town. Tour¬ ists had better be careful, or the dog’s fate may be theirs. Kissing in Sweden. Tho most surprising freedom prevails among tho lower classes, and, for that matter, it is openly hinted at Carlstcad among tho aristocracy as well, promis¬ cuous kissing being indulged in upon every occasion, moro especialiy at ho¬ tels, where it is expected that upon set¬ tling one’s bill, the chambermaid and waitress who attended tho traveler must bo both kissed before the entire company. This peculiar custom was particularly trying to my companion, who upon every occasion chose rather to incur tho disploasuro of the young ladies than to sanction a practice that certainly can lead to no good result. — [Boston Bulletin. Governor — You’ve boon running ahead of your allowance, Jack. Jack— I know it, dad. I’vo been hoping for a long time that tho allowance would strengthen up enough to overtake me. NO. 20. "Clear the Way.” The city lies in lmshed repose, The wintry night-wind freshly blows, As if to rock the cradle host In slumber’s sweet oblivion lost. But hark! a sound, and lo! a sight That wnkes the town in the dead of night. A shriek and a glare, A cry of despair At the flames in their ire, For tho ono word is “Fire!” The people rush out, And, with hurry and shout, Press on to the light As it brightens the night, And spreads like a banner unfurled up on high, A sigh and a terror against the dark sky! But bark to the clatter, than music more sweet, Of the rolling wheels and the horses’ feetl “Out of the way—out of the way 1 They come to save; now clear the wayl’ A sea of faces upward turned, Ono fear by every lioart inurned. By ruddy light is cloarly read On every brow the anxious dread. A mother ’inid the bright light stands, Her neck tight clasped by baby hands, And through roar and hiss, Not quite they miss Her piteous frenzied cry; But mounting quick on high, A hero springs, His helm a star Of hope, that flings A halo far ’Jlid the lurid light,“'“TH For a moment lost, then dimly seen As it gleams on the sight, The curling wreath of smoko between! Up the ladder ono rushed, but three corn! down, And the shining helm is a hero’s crown! Yet heeds not he what people say, He only bids them “clear the way!” —[Chamber’s Journal, HUMOROUS. An old-fa9hioned trust---“trust to luck.” A reasonable romark: “Pass tho salt, please.” Timo gallops under tho spur of the moment. Old maids know what a miss spent life means. The wasp has ono strong point, but it is not in favor. A nine to play ball in malarial dis¬ tricts—quiuino. It is tho miser who is always in need of a chest protector. The man was disappointed who ex¬ pected to read something sensational in an agricultural paper under tho head of “Harrowing.” “Pa,” said Bertio the other day, “why do thoy call a ship 'she?'” “Because, my son, sho is always on tho lookout for somo of tho buoys.” Professional gamblors have a great many superstitions. One of the most practical is, that if thoy deal tho cards themselvos they have a much bettor chance to win. Thero is a littlo girl in Now York whose commercial interests aro so pre¬ cocious that sho rents furnished rooms in lior doll’s houso to her sisters for a fixed number of carnmols each week. “One thing, Maria,” said the tarred and-fcathered gentleman, as his wife was plucking him, after tho festivities: “tho tar ain’t no special use, but there’s ’most a dollar’s worth of feathers on me.” A western basoball supply deals places tlio usual array of bats aud balls in his show window, und thon adds to them a largo roll of court plaster, a huge bottlo of arnica and a pair of crutches. “Clara,” said tho old man from the head of tho stairs, “has that young man gono yet?” “No, sir,” came back an exceeding prompt reply, and it wasn’t in Clara’s voice either, “but ho is going at once, sir.” “Wal, wal, wall” said Mrs. Sprig gins. “What fools somo mortals be. They wont and raised 3,046,899 carats in tho Diamond Fields of Afriky last year. It ’pears to me liko as if I had a good soil to grow diamonds on 1 wouldn’t waste no timo over garden sass.” Ardent Lover (on his knees): Gan you, then, doubt my affection, darling? It is eternal as tho hills—everlasting as tho valleys. All I ask, sweetheart, is your dear hand. Languid Beauty: Ask mo paw, Georgie. Ardent Lover (ris¬ ing from his knees): Ah—er—then, your paw, darling. As tho last note of that touching lit¬ tlo ballad, “Tho Letter that Ho Longed For Never Came,” vibrated on the even¬ ing air sho turned to find a tear trick¬ ling slowly down his cheek. “Ah, Mr. Sampson,” she said, sympathetically, “you, too, have ‘longed.’” “Yes,” ho replied huskily, “two years ago a very dear friond of mine went west on $25 which I loaned him, and for aught I know ho may be dead.”