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About North Georgia times. (Spring Place, Ga.) 1879-1891 | View Entire Issue (June 27, 1889)
-* 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.”
