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About North Georgia times. (Spring Place, Ga.) 1879-1891 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 27, 1888)
v NORTH GEORGIA TIMES :‘S>Se’. v •• Vol. VIII. New Series. I"unity. •— Like a shy startled thing she stood In the wild tangle of the wood; Her violet eyes in sweet surprise ' Seemed fotne fair shadowing of the skies; In her white hands some bluebells spent Their dying breath in soft content Her parted lips their white pearls showing, Her cheeks like rose-hues paling, glowing, And all her child-like innocence. Guide, guard, protector and defense. What started her? A heavy tread Through the dim aisles, arched overhead By sun-flecked leaves and vibrant boughs, And what of heaven such shade allows. All day sweet sounds had been a-stlr— The soft, far-reaching orchestra Of birds, bees, whispering winds—and over The nearer fields of grass and clover Came tinkling cow-bells sifting through, As violets tint the dusk and dew. A tramp comes onl the pine-leaves sweet Shudder beneath his naked feet; He stops, wild,hungry, outlawed, fierce; His haggard eyes the girl's eyes pierce; But something in their tender light Checks his half-savage mood, despite The lawless, desperate soul within That seldom stops at soil or sin: He moves aside—she passes by, Saved by the power of purity. —IMary A. Denison in Frank Leslie's THE RIVALS. BT JOHN P. SJOLANDER. "Now that wo understand each other lot uj shako hands and be friends.” "That’s it." ~f ! ffh-iir hands met in a £rm grasp. They looked into each other’s faces, one with a morry twinkle in his eyo and a broad smile over his jovial features: the other, with a glance long drawn out, grave and solemn, that seemed to last a shadow of gloom on everything About the scene. "You’ll do your best, and I’ll do my Jest. That’s what we’ve agreed on, ain’t it, Zip Tifkins?” ‘'That’s it, Ben Button, and which¬ ever of us wins, the othor.shall hoar no ill will?” , ■\ "Just so, Zip.” "And everything except murder shall bo counted fair.” • L “Eh?” "And murder, too, if you are willing to take tho consequences.” "Say, Zip, hold on!” “So if I should put you out of my way right here,” continued Zip without seeming to notico tho interruption, and drawing a small pistol out of his boot¬ leg as he spoke, "and it would never bo found out on me, why it would bo al right." “But, Zip, say—” "Or if I wero found out," Zip still continued, raising the pistol higher and higher till it pointed straight for Ben’s breast, “and I were willing to take all tho risk to get clear, which I think I am ready to do, why that, too, would be all right.” i "Hello, Ben, where aro you going?’’ shouted Zip, as tho former turned and ran down tho road at what seemed to be almost breakneck speed, frequently casting scared and anxious glances bo hind him. < Sen, however, did not stop to answer, but kept straight on until he was lost to sight in a bend in the road, while Zip, bending almost double with laughter, sent peal after peal of merriment ring¬ ing out on tho balmy evening air. “Of all the chickens in Christendom Bon Button takes the worml’’ cried Zip, a broad grin still on his faco, as be also turned and walked away. Zip Tilkins, full of life, fun and frol¬ ic, had for tho last few wooks been playing rival to Bon Button in tho af¬ fections of Melinda Spratt. Ben was seriously in love with Melinda; Melin¬ da’s young heart was fond of Zip, and Zip, -homeless, careless, fun-loving rover that he was, had never a thought that reached into the futuro for an hour. Bon and Zip had met in the road ac¬ cidentally. Bon was on his way to the Spratt homestead to lay further siego to Melinda’s heart For the last few days Bon had had but one thought, and that was how to get rid ol Zip as a rivaL So, when he met Zip, he pleaded from the fullness of his heart and in tho most persuasive language he could command, that Zip would relinquish all claim to Melinda’s heart and hand. Zip, in pure fun, feigned love also, and with well-asumed earnestness tried in turn to prevail upon Ben to with¬ draw from the race. Neither, however, would give in. As a last resort they finally agreed that each should in a fair, friendly way, bo permitted to plead his own cause with Melinda, and let her decide. With Zip, so far, it was only a good joke, and as such he had made the most •f it, as has been seen. Ban Button with regularity spent two < veaings of the week at the Spratt domi¬ cile. With Melinda he made very slow, SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA? THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 27, 1888. If any, progress into favor; with Mrs. Spratt, however, ho won golden opin¬ ions and stood in high grace. Since the compact letweon Ben and Zip the latter had visited Meliada but once, and then she had, in a very shy and sweet way, teasingly upbraided him for having triod to take the lifo of her constant admirer, Ben Button. "And would it break your heart, Me¬ linda, if ho were to die?” asked Zip, with an eager undertone in his voice, watching her face closely. "It would—almost—of course, if— but Zip, you have no right to ask such questions,” she answered, looking up shyly and blushing. ‘ Well, you needn’t be uneasy about him. I wouldn’t hurt Ben Button ly a single thought or word, much loss take his life,” replied Zip, with an earnest, ness unusual with him. ‘1 was only joking, Zip. Bat you seem to bo awfully -in earnest and sol¬ emn this evening. What is ailing you, any way?” "Nothing much, only I havo made up my mind to go away,” answered Zip, looking aside. "Go away? "Yes, Melinda.” "Where aro you going?” "Anywhere. It make3 no difference, so I got away.” "And ain’t you coming back?” * "Some day, maybe, if ever I get to be of any account to myself or anybody else.” "You are of some account now, Zip, and you had better stay right whero you are.” "No; I’ve made up my mind to go, and I am sure it is tho host thing that could happen for us all around, so I'll stick to it,” said Zip, resolutely. Melinda was looking out of the win¬ dow. When she saw a man coming up tho lane toward tho house, and recog nized in the comer Ben Button, a shad ow of annoyance flitted over her face. Zip had been watching Melinda; and when ho saw the slight frown on her faco, ho too, glanced out, and seeing who was coming he rose to his feet, ready to depart, saying: "I'll call in again before I leave ■ and tell you all good by. Good evening.” Melinda glanced roproachfully after tho retreating Zip. Thero was a sus¬ picion of tears in her eyes, and a little quiver around her mouth, as sho mur¬ mured to herself: "Foolish Zip! Hois going away because ho thinks I am go¬ ing to marry that hateful Ben Button, and is jealous. But I can't mako him see, and I won’t ask him to stay. I’ll dio first. There.” The truth was that a serious thought had at last come to Zip. He was in love, and ho knew it. He had looked at himself as in a looking-glass, and found out his own worthlessness. More than that, ho had determined to go away, change his habits of shiftless¬ ness, and become a useful man and citizen. He would not ask Melinda for her lovo until he had made him¬ self worthy of it. If, however, in the meantime some other man—Ben Button perhaps—stepped in ahead of him, why, ho would still be the gainer by an ambition for higher things which, in as tndiro’ct way, would be a gift from Melinda. That evening, Ben Button asked Melinda to become his wifo; but she was in no mood to answer him, then, for Zip's foolish determination to go away troubled her in no small degree. She knew, too, that her mother fa¬ vored Ben abovo any one else, and that she would be grieved if B_>a re¬ ceived a curt refusal, so she told him she would havo an answor ready for him when he should call again, and Ben was happy. Days passed away. They were days of hope to Bon, days of doubt and ir¬ resolution to Melinda,and busy days for hand and thought with Zip. The decisive evening carao at last, and Ben was on hand with his usual clockwork regularity to receive what he fully expected to be a favorable answer to his suit It had been a rainy day, but the sun had broken through the clouds in the evening, and was sotting bright and cloar, casting' its last rays upon Mrs. Spratt, Melinda and Ben Button, as they sat on the west gallery of tho house. "I dlclare, Melinda,” said Mrs. Spratt suddenly, “if them welldiggera haven’t gone off and forgot to shut tho gap in the fence around tho well.” "And there is Blossie’s calf in the yard now and going straight for the well. I’ll go and shut up the gap, mother; you sit still,” said Molinda, as Mrs. Spratt was about to rise. Melinda ran toward the well, heading the calf off at the same time. She was about to close the gap in the fence, when her eyes fell upon the wide open¬ ing in the ground. She hesitated a mo¬ ment, then entered tho gap, and ap¬ proached tho well cautiously. On the brink, she peered ov.r and looked into tho depth below. She was about td withdraw again; but the ground ucdifr her feet gave way, and with a loud scream she was hurled to the bottom of the well. Mrs. Spratt and Ben saw what hap pened, for their eyes had fondly follow¬ ed Melinda in her every movement, and they now rushed to tho sceno of the catastrophe. Stopping carefully upon some planks that worn lying across the opening of the woll, they peered into the abyss be¬ low them. There was no sound except of mumbling earih and pebbles falling from tho sides of tho well. Tho earth was looso from tho rain during tho day, and tho break where Melinda had fallen in had started tho walls to caving fell around. Then a large mass of earth fell crash¬ ing to tho bottom of tho well and laid bare a huge bowlder banging as if ready to topple tho next moment. A faint moan from tha bottom of tho well reached tho ears of those above. "Oh, Ben, sho is alive 1 Savo herl” criod Mrs. Spratt. "I can’t, Mrs. Spratt. That rock in tho side of tho well will fall in di¬ rectly,” whined B m. “Oh, savo her, Ban l I’ll lower you down with the windlnss and hoist you out again,” pleaded Mrs. Spratt. "’Taint nouso. That rock will turn bio in in a minute,” still moanod Bon. Just then Zip, with head bent, came walking toward tho house. Mrs Spratt saw him and callod out to him excitedly: "Zip 1 Zip 1 como quick and save Melinda.” Zip heard and did not lose a moment in running to the well. Ho took in tho situation at once. With all speed possible ho unwound the rope from tho windlass, and after tell¬ ing Mrs. Spratt and Ben to stand ready to hoist, wont down in the well, hand over hand, on the rope. ■> The earth wi)j still tho bottom With ’a flollow wuud. Zip with a lusty shout told them to hoist away. Melinda was landed abovo ground at last, bleeding, bruised and unconscious. The rope was lowered again, and just as Zip's head was above ground, the large rock in the sido of the well and masses of earth from all around crum¬ bled in, and fell with a sound as of thunder to tho bottom of tho wolU It was a narrow escape. Melinda was carricl to thi house,and a doctor was sent for. Before ho ar¬ rived, however, she regainod conscious¬ ness, and seeing Zip bending over her, a glad smile lighted up her fair young face, wliilo sho murmured, “Don’tgo away, Zip. Don’t go away.” Just then Mrs. Spratt, accompanied by tho doctor, entered the room and ap¬ proached tho bed. When tho good mother saw the smilo on her daughter’s face, and Zip bending low abovo the pillow, glad tears came to her eyes, and her voico was low and tender. “You can kiss her Zip, if you want to,” she said. Zip did ‘ ‘want to” and kissed Melin¬ da on her smiling lips. Then Mrs. Spratt put her arms around Zip’s neck and kissed him too, and told him that he must leave the room whilo the doctor attended to Melinda’s hurts, which upon examination proved to ho mere bruises after all. Ben hung nround tho hou-.o for a while, but when he saw that ha was left out in the cold by everybody, oven by Mrs. Spratt, ho thought it %cst fo gO. Whole In sessions, tho Mexican Congre W. E. 4 C ¥l tie. says pass away with nothing but formal business, such a3 receiving communica¬ tions from the executives of tho statos, or petitions from tho people which are raroly acted on. Occasionally a bill is passed but it passes almost as a matter of course, some of tho membors giving a delicate little wave of tho hand to the Secretary as ho calls their names ‘by sight, others merely smiling at him, tome paying no attention whatever to him, but none of them taking the trou¬ ble to open their mouths or rise, as tho rules require. Weeks and months pass away without a speech of any kind or even a point of order. The Terms Too Easy. “It is so sudden, Mr. Peduncle, ’’ said the young lady, softly; “give me time to think of it.” "Ccrtaiily,” rep’ied the business-like commercial traveller; ‘Til be around again in thirty days." "I only wanted a momeat, Harry,” she said, sweetly. —[Chicago Tribune. A CAVALRY CAMP. Sights and Sounds Around a Bivouac on the Plains. Preparations Before “Boots and Saddles” is Sounded. Drawn by a feeling of curiosity, a St. Louis Republic corrcsprndent strolled down to tho encampment of tho Eighth Cavalry, United States Army, which passed through Arkansas City, Kan., recently on its w ly from tho posts on the Lower ltio Grando to Dakota and Montana. The regiment had bivouacked on a broad, level plain, just at the edge of tho city. Long white rows of army fonts scattered hero and thero suggested one of tho mushroom towns which in tho far wost o.ten spring up in a day. Each troop encamps by itself and so regularly aro tho tents pitchod that from tho hoad tent to tho foot tent a straight line might bo drawn, touching each tent between. As soon as tho tents are pitchod all the stock must bo attend¬ ed to and tha regular duties of tho day koep tho men occupied till evening. Then guard mount takes place, twilight gives place to dark, and soon nothing remains of tha busy hive but a few ghostly tent", lit up by tho flickering light of tho camp tiros. Every half hour tho sentinels pacing their weary beats called out tho hour and "all’s well.” Every two hours camo tho guard roliof, and thus tho night passod just as tho sight beforo had gone and ju.t as tho many coming nights will go with these At 4 1-2 tho bugl i roused tho sleep¬ ing camp, and just as tho first faint streaks ol dawn appeared the camp once mpre became n sceno of busy activity. The i-tcck mu?t bo gallopod off to tho yiver a milo away, and than horses and men return to their morning meal. Tho horses aro fed in feed buckets which are fastened under their mouths by a band passing over tho hoad. In a shaft time horses and men jaded with a thousand-mile journey, are reiitvigora ted and ready for another day’s march. To tbo uninitiated these ordered pre¬ parations appear like the most reckless confusion. Privates in dirty blue blouses and grass-stained trousers run to and fro; every now and then somo teamster gallops off to the river fol¬ lowed by an animated chorus of army mules; wagons aro being loaded; men rush hero and thero filling their can¬ teens. A few minutes beforo 6 general call is sounded and chaos assumes order. Shortly after comes the order to strike touts, and in an instant, as if by magic, tho encampment has disappeared. While you aro watching ono tent pulled oach man has done his work, and once again tho miniature town gives place to the plain of a day beforo. Tho tents aro quickly rolled up and put in tho wagons and then "boots and saddles” is sounded. Ev¬ ery man takes his station. They are ranged in troops, men and horsos altcr nitiog. Each troopor has his right hand on his horse’s bridle, faces vacant and expressionless, eyes adjusted a cer¬ tain distanco to tha front, hoping noth¬ ing, awaiting nothing, but tho order to mount This is presently given, and like an automaton each man springs to tho saddle. The day’s march has now begun. The men all wore cavalry boots, some¬ what the worse for wear and dirt. Their coarse, heavy trousers were tucked tightly within. They wero soatod on a light, cheap saddle, vary unlike tho cowboy saddlo of tho West It had a ■mall horn, and looked like an extreme¬ ly comfortless seat Tho stirrups are covered and worn very long, compelling the riders to rest tho weight of the body on tho toes. On tho right sido of tho saddlo the carbine is slung, and on the left tho canteon and feed bucket must bo disposed of. Strapptd to the back of tho saddlo are the unfailing slicker (or waterproof rubber coat) and army blankets. A coarse, blue shirt and an army slouch hat Complete tho outfit, and the private may pass on so curo in the consciousness that nobody will envy him all ho possesses. Tho officers were but a shade better off. Their clothes looked a little newer and th"ir faces were a little cleaner, but the bronzed faces showed a life of hardships. Oac fine-looking old gentleman had a villainous looking old pipe and a sack of tobacco hanging to his saddle¬ bow. It took about a quartei ol an hour for the regiment to file pw t. A huge cloud of dust was rais d, and “glory and dirt” disappeared together. The entire isolation of army life and its dreary regularity must become monoto¬ nous iu the extreme. Social advantages aro entirely out of tho question ; friond must bo forgotten as soon as made; new scenes come to mean only so much ground passed over, and new towns aro only another camping ground. In win¬ ter quarters, however, pleasures aro not so infrequent. Amatour theatricals and social events relieve tho unvarying mo¬ notony of camp routin’. The lifo must unfit ono for any kind of business. When a man has been accustomed to tho routine of orders preparod by superior ofrii ... cr* tincls it (\lmost . lnipossiblo . ... to qo redirect his energies back into a plane of perfect indcpendonco. It i3 at I its best a wandering life, with no homo ties. The Value of Advertising. Everybody ha3 heard of Frank Millet, lie paints pictures and writes magazine articles in times of peace, but when a war is "on” he bccomos a "war corrc spondont,” and is likely to turn up in the Soudan, tho Transvaal or the Bal leans. But thero was a time when he was not known. He sent pictures to ex¬ hibitions, to be sure, and good onos, but no one paid any particular attention to them or said anything about them. One day ho conceived an idoa. Ha painted a picture of a lady in black sit¬ ting on a bright rod sofa standing against a vivid yoi.ow background. Tho effect was just a trifle startling. Friends who saw it in process of production ex postulitod with him, and asked what he was going to do with it. They wero simply astounded when ho announced that he was going to send it to tho ex hilition. They labored with him, but in vain. told him tint the critics would "wipo tho floor” with him. “They can’t do that without mention¬ ing mo,” said Frank, quietly, "and they’ve never even dono thut yet." To tho exhibition tho picture went. It killed everything within twenty feet on eithor sido of it. You couldn’t help looking at it. It simply knocked you down and held you there. Tho critics got iuto a towering passion over it. They wrote wholo columns about it. They exhau<ted the English language in abusing it. They ridiculed the com mittee thiat permitted it fto bo bung. They had squibs and gibes about it, but every timo they spoke of it they men¬ tioned Frank Millet. IIe suddenly bo carao the best known artist in town. Somebody, because of the slir that it had tqadc, bought the picture at a good price, and removed it to the seclusion of his own home. When tho next exhi bition came off Frank had another pic¬ ture ready, ono of a very different sort, and very good, 1 ut no better than others which had been exhibited be¬ fore. Tho critics had much to say about it, and "noted with pleasure tha i had marked made, improvement” “an evidence,” that Mr. they Millet mod- j ' as estly put it, “of tho value of criticism, oven though severe, to a young artist.” And a majority of them never saw that Frank had simply compelled their at- i tention by a clover trick.—[Boston Horald. The Echo Maker. •a. Tho popular Science Monthly de¬ scribes a curious and ingenious device called “Tho Echo Maker" to be used on ships at sea. A flaring funnel is screwed to the muzzle of a rifle. Whon a sup posod obstacle is near the vessel, the J rills is fired in its direction, aud if the obstaclo is there tho boam of sound pro jeeted through tho funnel strikes the obstacle and rebounds, and as tho echo 1 is more or less perfect in proportion as the tho obstacle ship from is which more or the less parallel is fired, to j gun and as it is near or remote, tho position of the obstaclo may be inferred. The ' inventor claims that a sharp sound pro jeeted at or nearly at an object, and n ly when so directed, will in every case return some of the sound sent, so that, theoretically, there will always be an echo, and tho difference in the time be¬ tween tho sound sent and the echo, will indicate the remoteness of the object. The Naval Board tried the echo maker and found that a return sound could be heard from the side of a fort half a mile away; from passing steamer? a quarter of a mile off if broad¬ side too; from bluffs and sails of vessels at about tho samo distance, and from spar buoys 200 yards away. A Chain of Events. Last year out in Iowa a mad dog bit a steer, which in turn bit a pony, which triod its teeth upon a bull, which, upon going mad, chewed up fence rails as though they were hay, and wound up by biting and goring his owner. So far the man has escaped rabies, bat his neigh¬ bors have raised a purse to send him to Pasteur for treatment, and he is now, on his way in charge of a local phy¬ sician.—[Chicago Times. NO. 34. Take Lesson from tlio Farmer. ! a There’s a lesson in the saying of a farmer in the West That of other things in lifo, as well, might answer for a test. Shall I give the lesson to you? Willyouheod its teachings? Well, Listen to me but a moment and the story I will tell. We were out among the milch cows, speak¬ ing of the best ones thero. When the farmer of my first choice said, Wlttl patronizing au: “Sues as plump as any pigeon, and her coats soft ns sillc But the slickest-looking heifer ain’t the one that gives the milk.” Oft ’neath clumsy outward tearing beats a heart both trye and brave, And the smooth and winning mannors may conceal tho vilest knave. So the lean horse docs the pulling and is not afraid of work, While the fat and lazy pony is contriving how to shirk. Would you beck o city dandy to engage in any strife, Qj- the one whose hands are smoothest for the heavy work of life? Choose the homely for your milch cow and we’ll then, sir, by your leave, Send the shut horn to the butcher, she will make him splendid beef. Take a lesson from the farmer, with his sturdy common sense, Who, unlike the politician, never sits astride the fence; Watch the smoothest talking fellow, he may prove tho biggest bilk; Know “the slickest looking heifer ain’t the ono that gives the milk.” —[Mutt W. Anderson in tho Mercury. HUMOROUS. A cloud of dust—Humanity. Small comfort—A baby. A bad sign—A forged signature. A fascinating tail—Tho poacock’s. An astonished country—Consterna¬ tion. Whon a man has but ono match it doesn’t go. Hogs do not marry, but they are often betroughed. The latest from Shanghai—Cock-a doodlc-dool The than of brass i« always ready to show his mettle. The sign "No Loafing” seems out of place in a bakery. The cholera in phantom appears to bo « ghostly sort of disease. How to get even with some men— Pay them what you owe them. Possibly the reason that a lawyer does so much kicking in court is that ho is a limb of the law. It is trus that whon a man bows to a lad J and a ^o ignores the greeting, he becomes a left bower. Consistency may bo a vory poor sort of jcwoL A man may lie constantly and still bo consistent, It costs tho wholesale houses of this country $130,000,000 per year to send ou t travelers. This is exclusive of tho travelers to Canada. Westorn Judge (to prisoner who was arrested in the gutter)—Your'ro (hie) drunk yet, m’ fr’en’. Prisonor—No, sir, (hie), sober as a judge. It is estimated that tho earth loses an hour in every sixteen thousand years, Americans will please take notice, and put in an extra hour whilo thero is time, “George,” said the happy bride, “papa has placed a check among the wedding presents.” “Is that so?” whispered Georgo, anxiously. "Did you notice if it is certified?'’ A Dr . Zac h ar io claims to havo cut 15, qqq corng from soldior 3 ’ feet during the war, and now ho wants tho Government t0 pay him $45,000 for it. Protty costly cor n crop, that for our Uncle Samuel, Father—Well, Thomas, you have graduated from colloge and are now ready for your lifo work. What will be your field? Son (thoughtfully)—Well, to tell the truth, sir, it's a little hard to decide between loft and centre. Tho da I co ™ ia when the man who carries a cane under his arm and the man who carries an umbrella on his shoulder will bo taken out and hit with a squash, and hit hard enough to kill. Then tho woman with the baly cart wants to look out. "I hear, Mr. Bonds, that your son is about to take a vacation.’’ "Yos. He has worked so long and steadily in the bank that he needs a rest and will taka' a run over to Canada.” "Ho will, eh! Excuso me--” "What’s your hurry!” “I have somo money in the bank.” “My face is red and tender Where the wind has tanned the hide, And the sun has raised big blisters As I sailed upon the tide. So let the razor kiss me gently As it slides adown my cheek, For I’ve been down at the shore, barber, Down at the shore this week."
