Newspaper Page Text
-*
NORTH GEORGIA TIMES
C ' W 'GARTER, [ Propristors.
B. B.
Isolated.
We hold oar dear ones with a firm, aUO 10
grasp,
We hear their voices, look into their eyes;
And yet, betwixt ns in that clinging clasp
A distance lies.
We cannot know their hearts, howe’er we
may
Mingle thought, a piration, hope and pray¬
er;
We cannot reach them, and in vain essay
To enter there.
Still, in each heart of hearts a hidden deep
Lies, never fathomed by its dearest, bes*,
With closest care our purest thoughts we
keep And
tenderest.
But, blessed thought! we shall not always so
In darkness and m sadness.walk alone;
There comes a glorious day whon we shall
-> know r
As we are known. *
Elinor Gray.
THE EiUCHMAN’S WIFE
ST frank n. converse.
“What! Another story about the
Hrild and wooly West?’ I should think
joti boys Would get tired of hearing of
Indians and all that sort of thing. Well,
let too think a minute.
■Your Aunt Bess isn’t anywhere round,
is she? No? For sho isn’tbver fond of
Indiana or Indian stories—and with good
reason.
It was way back in the seventies. I
fitted out at Fort Caspar, in New Mexi¬
co, and started off alone, fur trapping
up among the foot hills.
They told me I was crazy to venture
so far, as the Indians were thicker than
flies all through the section of country
where I was going; but I was used to
taking chances in thoso days, and game
was wonderfully plenty round the Gila
ranges. So I started off.
Well, I reached the southern foot hills
all right, without seringa sign of a red¬
skin. But for all that, I didn’t get
careless. I used a bow and arrows,
with which I was quite expert in those
days, to kill what game I wanted, rather
than run any risk of attracting the no¬
tice of any prowling Apache by a rifle
shot. I was very lucky with my trap¬
ping, nnd in about three weeks had a
mule load of pelts, with which I started
back toward the fort.
The second day of my journey brought
me to the bottom lands in the finest sec¬
tion of grazing country I ever saw. A
branch of the Gila river wound along
for miles like a blue ribbon, through
buffalo grass half way to the horses’
knees, while on every side there was
willow and cottonwood enough to sup¬
ply fuel for the biggest kind of a settle¬
ment.
1 rode slowly along, with my pack
mule plodding a few paces behind,think¬
ing, as I well remember, that I should
like nothing better than to have a nice
little ranch of my own in those parts,
and settle down there.
All at once from behind there came a
yell—or, rather, a chorus of them—
such as a man, no mailer how much
courage he may have, doesn’t care to
hear more than once in a lifetime.
Unslinging my rifle and turning in
my saddle at one nnd tho same time, I
saw a score or more of nr unted Indians
coming up at full speed, whooping and
yelling like so many fiends.
Of court e (here was but the one thing
to do. My horse was tolerably fast and
in good condition. It was late in the
afternoon, and if I could keep well
ahead of my pursuers, I might hope to
escape them under cover of the night.
Leaving the pack mule aud peltries
to their fate, I gave old Reno his head,
and then began « race for life or death.
For an hour I seemed to gain little by
little. Then poor Reno began to flag,
while the Indian ponies, lashed to their
highe t speed, drew nearer and nearer. I
swung hatf round and dropped a big
“buck” with my Winchester at a hun¬
dred yaids as neatly as you please, but
—so to speak—this was only a drop in
the bucket. On came the rest with
Mercer cries and n-.orc hideous yells, ac¬
companied by a fusillade from their car¬
bines, as well as by some half dozen ar¬
rows, one of which went fairly through
my right forearm just below the elbow.
The pain was such for the moment that
my fingers relaxed their grasp, and my
rifle fell to the ground, leaving mo, ey
cept for a hunting knife, practically un¬
armed, as, unfortunately, on the day be¬
fore I had broken the main spring of my
revolver. .
‘Til die hard if die I must,” I mut¬
tered, getting hold of my knife with my
left hand, for my right bad all at once
Lecome almost ^useless—some nerve or
cord having been severed by the sharp
SPRING PLACE. GA., THURSDAY. JUNE 27, 1889.
point of the arrow, as I supposed at the
time.
All at once my flagging horse rounded
a big clump of cottonwood. I saw a
heat cabin, with one or two outbuild¬
ings, not a furlong away. But at that
self-same moment otd Reno’s forefoot
went down in a gopher hole, and I went
flying over his head, very much after the
manner of a diver, only that my arms
were outstretched as a diver’s never
ought to be.
Luckily, I struck on my right
shoulder; so, though badly bruised and
shaken,^ Was on m/feet like a cat in a
second. And the instinct of self preser¬
vation, as a matter of course, led me to
run At full speed toward the cabin,
though I could %;e no sign of life about
the premises.
But, run as fast as I might, the pur¬
suing ponies were faster. Tho red¬
skins, who, as I afterward knew, were
to a man Apaches—-the most barbarous,
murderous race on the face of the globe
—could easily have tumbled me over by
a carbine shot or an arrow; but no, they
wanted a white man to torture. And if
you will believe me, when I was within
50 yards of the cabin, the chief, who
was rather better mounted than the rest,
was so close at my heels that, leaning
forward with a devilish grin on his
painted face, he prodded me gently in
the rear with the point of a long feath¬
ered lance, which he carried in addition
to tho carbine slung over his naked
shoulders.
He smiled on the cither side of his
ugly mouth a second Inter, though, for
all at once a little puff of smoke froto
one of the two cabin windows was fol¬
lowed by tbe crack of a rifle, and the
Apache cllief pitched forward to the
earth-—as dead an Indian as need be! .
Another report followed almost like
An echo, and another Indian bit the dust,
while a third discharge an instant later
drew a howl of pain from another,
whereupon the remainder wheeled sud¬
denly round and took up a position some
little distance away—far enough to be
practically out of range. Between the
increasing pain of my wound, and be¬
ing almost winded, for a moment or
two after I had stumbled in at the door
of the cabin, which, thrown open to ad¬
mit me, was as quickly closed and
barred, I was silly enough to fall to the
floor, where I lay for a moment sort of
dazed faint, I suppose some would
call it.
“Here, drink this,” said a woman’s
voice.
It was spirit of some kind, and though
to this day I don’t know ono kind of
liquor from another, that happened to be
an occasion when I felt justified in tak¬
ing it.
Any way, the fiery draught gave me
renewed strength, and brought me to
myself in a measure, I saw that the
woman who held the flask to my lips
was young, and the handsomest woman
—so I then thought and think to this
day, that I ever saw in all my life. Oh,
you needn’t laugh, boys, your Aunt Bess
knows all about it. She says she has
forgiven me for thinking so a very long
time ago.
I got on my feet in a hurry.
“Whero are your men folks, ma’am?”
I asked, quick and sharp, as, looking
around the room I saw that sho and I
were the only occupants. Her voice had
a curiously-hard sound. Somehow it
seemed to match a sort of wild, unnat¬
ural look in her eyc3, which were just
the color of those of you.’ Aunt Bess.
“My husband—Jim Rainsford—was
shot down in front of our own door yes¬
terday morning, by that--”
Her speech seemed to fail her, but
sho pointed through the substitute for a
window to the outstretched body of the
Apache chief lying stiff and stark a few
rods away, killed by her own avenging
hand.
“There is no one else,” she added, re¬
covering her speech; and though I have
never been called a coward, I have to
confess that my heart sank at the pros¬
pect.
But all the while Mrs. Rainsford was
speaking she stood by the window,
rifle in hand, watching the
Apaches, who, in a sort of huddle
some eight hundrei yards distant,
were evidently holding a consulta¬
tion. And this of itself made me pull
myself together.
“I think I can manage that Winches-,
ter with my left hand and arm,” I said,
for my right hand had already swollen
all out of proportion. She turned
quickly, end, seeing tbe condition of
the wounded member, uttered an excla
motion.
‘ Good Heavens 1” she said, short and
sharp; ‘'you’ve been hit with a poisoned
arrow 1 I know, for Jim Wits wounded
the same way the year after we were
married, when we were living in Mon¬
tana. Keep your eye on those fiend*—•
.I know just what to do!”
And before I had an idea of her pur¬
pose, Mrs. Rainsford dropped on her
knees and applied her warm, fresh lips
to the ragged puncture, which, owing
to the presence of the poison, perhaps,
had bled very little. My expostula¬
tions were in vain. Ejecting the poi¬
sonous fluid, and repeatedly rinsing her
mouth with the raw spirit, of which she
forced mo to drink from time to timq,'
this bravest bNlitaea continued her pe
cUliar treatment till I felt a sensible de¬
crease in the piiin, and the swelling it¬
self began slowly to subside.
“You’ll dp now,’’ .she abruptly re¬
marked, rising to her feet with a glance
at my face, to which I knew the color
was fast returning. But the situation
was an almost desperate one. Night
wav fast approaching, and though the
Apaches were making no definite move
toward dislodging us, we of‘course pre¬
sumed that they ably waited the cover
of darkness to carry out their purpose.
Which shows how easy it is tq^be mis¬
taken—especially in reference to the
movements of the wily Apache. For,
uupereeived by either of us, one of the
red fiends had separated himself from
the rest, and making a long detour un¬
der cover of the willows along the river
bank, crept up in the rear of the build¬
ing and fired it at the two corners. •
The first intimation we had of this
new disaster was the” cloud of stifling
smoke that came pouring through the
chinks of the cottonwood logs, which
were as dry and almost as inflammable
as tinder by their long exposure to the
baking sun and rarifled air. Immediately
following we heard the sharp crackle of
the flames, kindled into additional
strength by a strong westerly breeze,
and above all rose the exulting yells of
the Apaches, who of course expected
that we should very shortly be driven
from cover.
“I don’t know how you feel about it,”
said my companion in the same hard,
uncmotional voice, “but I had rather
burn to death a hundred times than fall
into the hands of those fiends.”
Before I could reply, a great tongue
of fire burst through into the interior.
A sudden thought seemod to come to
the bravo woman at my sido.
“This way—quick!” she exclaimed.
And pulling up a trap door in the rough
flooring, she dropped lightly through
I following—letting the trap fall back
to There* place
was no time for standing on
ceremony. Reaching out a small hand,
that was icy cold, though firm as a rock,
Mrs. Rainsford, taking my own,
drew me to the further end
of the rude cellar. In those parts
it was customary to construct a sort of
vegetabie celiar a few feet away from the
house, in addition to the one under the
dwelling, for winter use. But Rainsford,
from some whim of hrs own, had dug
his place of winter storage in one end of
the main cellar itself, roofing it over on
the outside with slabs of gray sandstone
from the river bottom. All this his
widow hastily explained as we groped
our way to tho heavy door of thick
planking in tho side of tho cellar wall,
and, having entered, pulled it to after
us.
It was indeed a last resort, and it is
no wonder that for some time neither of
us was iuclated for conversation. Over¬
head was the roaring of flames, followed
a little later by the crash of falling tim¬
bers and beams. Tho heat was almost
stifling, but luckily the wind blew the
fire and smoke directly away from the
covering above, or else, despite the
apertures left for veutilation, we should
have been smothered.
We could hear the Apaches’ cries of
fiendish joy as they stood about the
burning building, expecting to see their
victims bursting through tho flames, and
it was a trifling satisfaction to know
that they were doomed to disappoint¬
ment
As the anxious hours went by, an I
the intensity of the heat decreased some¬
what, I drew from Mrs. Rainsford her
simple story. She and her husband,
who was twice her own ago, had moved
southward from Montana. “He was al¬
ways good to mi, Jim was,” she said,
with a little sob, and so they had lived
in quiet contentment on their small
lanch till’the terrible tragedy of the
previous day. War Cloud had ridden
up with his party and demanded whis¬
ky, which Rainsford refused him with
out ceremony. Whereupon the Apache
chief deliberately shot him through the
heart, and, strangely enough, tho band
rode away without offering any violenco
to his horrified wife, who, all alone, had
dug a grave under the cottonwoods, and
buried her husband’s body out of sight.
She was intending to make her way to
the nearest settlement on the following
morning, and after communicating with
her people in Montana, decide upon her
further course of action. T.icn I had
appeared upon tho scene. In
return, I told her of myself as
far as seemed necessary, and I
need hardly say, placed, myself entirely
at her service, as tho faintest of returns
.for all she had done for me—saving my
life in a doublo sense, as it were, for
not only had she afforded mo protection
from tho fury of tho savages, but had
undoubtedly prevented my dying a hor¬
rible death from the poisoned arrow.
It is probable that the Apaches pre¬
sumed that wo had both perished in the
flathes, for, after day dawn, when I ven¬
tured to push aside one of the slabs
of stone covering our retreat, they had
gone. And two hours later a party of
home bound prospectors with a four horse
mule team and complete outfit hovo in
sight, and I need hardly say, nftor hear¬
ing our story, they extended every kind¬
ness toward us.
Wo reached El Paso with them in
about a fortnight, and their I said good
by to Mrs. Ratisford, for a time at lenst.
Did I ever see her again?
Why, yes. I married her tho
year after, and we came
East to live, for it’s your aunt Bess I’ve
been Idling you about—didn’t you mis¬
trust? No? Well, thoso are tho facts
in the case, as tho lawyers say, but—’
there she comes across the street. Better
not mention that I have told you the
story; she never likes to talk of that ex¬
perience, or hear it mentioned. But her
hair has been as white as it is now ever
since that night in the cellar of tho burn¬
ing house .—The Argmj.
-^ n Abused Image of Washington,
%pher, the New York dealer in art
renc9 ' cnrios - rtc ‘> had in bis establish
ment a woodcn statue of Gc01 'g e ^ash
in S ton with a hist " r y- Thu statu0 waa
set U P at lhe Battcr y in 1794 aud there
H stood for 40 y ear3 or moro until ifc 8 ot
bad 'y batfered and became an e y esore to
artist3 and art lover9 ‘ 11 wn9 tben P ut
U P auc t' on by tho city, and the city
got soundly berated for tho ind gnity.
A French dealer in relics named Jacques
bou S ht the fi S uro 011 speculation for
* 250 and fi,Uin 8 to realize upon it
6towe d it away in the attic of his
country-house at South Norwalk, Conn.
M ‘ Jl,c ‘l" c9 dicd in 1863 and at tbe sub ‘
ec i u;nt sa, ° of bis elIccts tbo woadon
Gcor 8« fel1 into the hands of a Yankeo
curiosit y huntor - who P aid a mcre 1riflo
for it aed sold it at a considerable ad
vance t0 one Frederick J. Theobald,
wbo l daced ^ fn front of a modest e3
tablishment in Harlem, which was
henceforth known as the “Washington
Cigar Store. Every 221 of debruary
and 4th of Jul y Mv ‘ Theobald religiously
dtcoratod ,he 8,atuo wltb Ono
<1^. not very long ago, Mr. Sypher
beard of the ignoble use to which the
father of his country was put and opened
negotiations which resulted in ills get
tin S P <>fscssi ° n of tbo turac ‘ Tho fl S' ,r0
is 8 feet 10 incbo3 bi ” h - and is a credit -
abl ° Work of its kimk Wasbin « ton is
represented as standing in an easy pos¬
ture, holding a chapeau at his hip. The
Continental costume consists of a bluish
black coat, white waistcoat, buff
breeches and top boots. The old-fash¬
ioned fob is in its proper place, and the
expression of the face is benignant.—
The President’s Exchange Render.
The official at the White House who
does the President’s newspaper reading
and clipping is Benjamin Montgomery,
the telegraphic secretary. He is one of
the most valuable officers of the force,
as in addition to his knowledge of tele¬
graphy, he possesses a wonderful ac¬
quaintance with-men and measures, and
is singularly active in clerical work.
He now attends to a duty that was for¬
merly performed by Col. Lamont, name¬
ly, perusing the newspapers of the
country and transferring to a scrap book
all articles regarded as worthy of tho
President’s consideration, either because
of their praise or criticism of his ad¬
ministration.
Teacher—“It seems yon are never
able to or any of my questions
How is this, my little boy?” Little
Johnny—“If I knew the things you
asked me, ma’am, dad wouldn’t go to
the trouble of tending me here.”
Vol. IX. New Series. NO. 21.
THE CZAR’S ARMY.
A Grand Sight at St Peters¬
burg.
Armed Men Reviewed By the
Emperor.
If you wish to see military Russia in
all its glory and epic luxury you must
take your place in the first days of April
on one of those tribunes which rise at
the extremity of the Champ do Mars on
on both sides of tho imperial pavilion.
Society meets there to assist at the grand
spring review. All tho Guard is massed
beforo us—20,000 men at least, aud per¬
haps more. Other states may pride
themselves on a military force equivalent
to this, but none can show a force so
mngnificont and picturesque in aspect.
All the races and all the arms of this
varied empire are about to defile bofore
our eyes, from those noble Chevalier
Guards, who seem to have been resusci¬
tated from tho romantic Middle
Ages, down te the Kirghccz of the
Asiatic stoppe, who are still pagans.
“ Attention 1” Thousands of voices
have transmitted tho. same word of com¬
mand. “The Emperor 1” Ho appears
yonder at the coracr of tho Camp do
Mars. The moment ho has seen all tho
flags flutter, all the bauds join in ono
formidable chorus to send heavenward
the sounds of tho national hymn, “God
save the Czar.” The Emperor arrives
at a gentle gallop. Behind him follows
an escort which makes many hearts beat
amongst the fair publie of tho tribunes.
It is a'feathering of the most illustuous
names and the finest horsemen of the
Russian nobility.- All the armies of the
world have contributed to form this
staff. The Hungarian magnate rides side
by side with the Japanese military at
taebe, tho French kopi salutei tho fez
of the Mussulman bey. Tho Master
passes along the front of his troops; the
Empress follows in an opon barouche,
At tho npproaoh of their Majesties the
band of each regiment resumes the
hymn with wild fury-a hurricane of
harmony, which accompanies aud on
velopos the imperial procession. The
traditional salutations are exchanged bo
tween the Czir and his soldiers: “Good
day, children.” “We are happy to do
well for your Imperial Majesty.”
The sovereign stops before tbe trib¬
une of tbe Grand -Ducliossos; he gives
the signal, and tho march past begins.
At tbo bead are tho platoons of the Asi¬
atic escort, eastern and wild Russia,
Mussulmans from Khiva aud Bokhara,
Georgian princes, Tehcrkosscs, Persians,
Mongols and Caucasians. These primi¬
tive warriors, armed with lances and
steel maces, wear long coats of mail
over their brilliant silk dresses, furs ol
great price, damascened helmets or Tar¬
tar caps. This is the vanguard of the
hordes of Attila, the concession made in
the regular army to legend an 1 fancy.
Then come the compact masses of the
regular army, the infantry first of nil—
Proebiajcnsky, Finland Chasseurs, and
soldiers of tho Paul Regiment, with
their large copper hats in the form of
mitres—such ns wore worn by the Grana
diers of Frederick the Great. In ac¬
cordance with an old tradition, all meu
who have flat noses are recruited for this
regiment. The linos of cavalry follow
the infantry like living walls of brass
and steel. Then come the light troops
—Red Hussars, Grenadiers, and Lan¬
cers; and finally swarms of Cossacks,
galloping on their little ponies,
sweep along from the extremi¬
ty of the Champ do Mars at
full speed, stop and turn short at the
foot of the imperial tribune. These
troops perform the exercises of the Arab
fantasia—lie down on their saddles,
lean over to the ground wrthout quit¬
ting their stirrups and pick up the
lance or pistol that they have thrown
down before them. The artillery closes
the march. The batteries, admirably
horsed, are carried along at full speed by
black chargers as fine as the finest
trotters.
As the last cannons disappear, rattling
over the pavement behind the trees of
the Summer Garden, the court and its
guests go to breakfast in the palace of
the Princes of Oldenburg, which faces
the Champ de Mars; and the foreigner
who fo’iows the Emperor—his eyes still
full of this heroic vision—wondera how
a man can resist the intoxication of .such
power gathered in his hand and the
temptation which must come upon him
to let loose this superb force against the
Littlo things that tell—Small brothers.
The Roses by the Boa.
The roses and the clover
Are very sweet and fair,
And I love the fragrant odor*
They breathe upon the air;
■But the Sweeter seemed the blossoms
Beside the meadow run,
The time that you were twenty,
And I was twenty-one.
IIow fondly I remember
Tho time we culled them there;
And ’neath the shady maples
I wove them in your hair;
now there in bliss we tarried
Until the set of sun,
The time that you were twenty.
And I was twenty-one.
It may have been tho flowers,
Or a look benign and free,
That bade me whisper softly
How dear you wore to me;
I never stopped to question,
I only know ’twas done,
Tho time that you were twenty
And I was twenty-one.
We’ve had our summer, d irling,
The fields of life are brown.
We’ve traveled up the hillside;
We’re on our journey down;
Yet oft I wake from dreaming
Those days have just begun,
That you again are twenty
And I am twenty-one.
When life and love are over,
And I am laid at rest,
I hope some ono will gather,
And place upon my breast,
Such flowers as used to blossom
Beside the meadow run,
The time that you were twenty,
Aud I was twenty-one.
—Merchant Traveller.
HUMOROUS.
A sign of summer—Keep off the
grass.
“You look so much like your
brother,” said Dennis to Phelim, “that
I could tell yez was brothers if I’d never
seen aither av yez.”
Officer to Court—The charge against
this man is false pretences. He shouted
he could do up the whole ward, but I
guv him one mesclf and flured him.
“However could you thiuk of falling
in love with such a homely fellow? His
figure is something awful.” “Yes,
but ho has a lovely one at the hank.”
A Florida shark swallowed an eight
day clock that had accTaeStattfTre^~~
dropped into tho water> aud SOTOa dayg
later ran Mllorei to have it wound up ,
Fond mother; “You must , remember, ,
Emeline, that fine feathers don’t make a
fine bird.” Daughter: “True, mamma,
but they do make awfully pretty hats.”
It is not good to take tea in the
middle of the day. The man who tried
it in a Texas grocery store when he
thought the clork was not looking is au¬
thority for this.
An Irishman was planting shade trees
when a passing lady said, “You’re dig
ging out the holes, are you, Mr. Hag¬
gerty?” “No, mum, Oim digging out
the dirt, au' lavin’ the holes.”
Mr. Kenwood—I hear you are engaged
to Mr. Tallboy? Miss South Park—
Who told you? Mr. Kenwood—I have
forgotten, but £ understand the infor¬
mation came from Jack himself. Miss
South Park—I wish he’d tell mo.
Great Lawyer: I cannot manage a
enso unless I know all of the facts.
You must tell me truly whether you are
guilty or not. Accused party (scornful¬
ly): D’ye s’pose I’d be fool enough to
hire a high-priced lawyer like you if X
was innocent?”
A discussion arose between the con¬
ductor and tho driver in a Boston horse
car. It grew exciting, but at last the
conductor, turning to go to his end of
the vehicle, said in a withering manner;
“You have only personality; I have in¬
dividuality.”
Customer—“I see you are advertising
full sets of teeth for $8.” Dentist
(cautiously)—“Y-e-s, sir. Do you live
at home?” Customer—“No, I board.”
Dentist (with dignity)—-You certainly
cannot expect an $8 set to be of any u e
in a boarding bouse, sir. My charge to
you will be $25.”
“Will you vote for my bill?” inquired
the lobbyist of the legislator. “No,
sir,” replied the latter; “your bill is a
swindle.” “Why, man, you must have
the wrong bill in mind. I mean this
fifty-dollar bill 1” “Well, this appear*
to be a good bill,” said the legislator,
after examining it critically. “1’U rote
for it, of course.”
That was Just the Trouble,
“What is it, dear?” asked his wi
passiog her cool hand over his troubled
brow- “what is oa your »ind?”
.^othing,” answered the ,Ltawm. poet, mouni
M1 _. „ th . bl ,„ t
before him; “Nothing, I assure you.”