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NORTH GEORGIA TIMES.
t Proprietor
B. I
The Heights and the Valley.
He Ttrraed a|ood in to the the valley peaks with where eager eyes sunshine
the
lay.
“O, for ftie heights that are near the skies,
The glorious heights that are far away,”
He cried, and ever his longing grew
To climb the steeps till the heights were
won,
And ever a wild unrest broke through
The daily tasks that must be done.
“It must be lonely on those far heights,"
Said the friend he told of Ills wild desire.
“Better the valley of old delights;”
But the heart of the dreamer was all on
fire
With the thought of reaching the hills afar.
And he would not tarry with friends of
old,
But followed the flash of ambition's star,
And climbed up the mountains bleak and
cold.
There were rocky places where feet must
bleed;
There were awful chasms where danger
lay;
Through nights of darkness and days of
need
Towards the peaks he longed for lie took
his way.
And nearer, nearer the peaks of snow
Each day the climber in rapture drew,
Forgetting the valley that lay below
And the valley friends who were kind and
true.
At last the terrible heights wore scaled;
Alone on tbe desolate peaks stood he.
In the moment of triumph his courage
failed,
And his heart turned valley ward longing
iy
0, to hear the toices of friends again,
To clasp a hand that was warm and true!
O, to love and be loved, and to share with
men
Tbe little joys that tbe valley knew!
Better the valley with peace and love
Than the desolate heights some souls at¬
tain.
Lonely is life on the hills above
The valley lands and the sunny plain.
What is fame to love? Can it satisfy
Tho longing and lonoly hearts of men?
On the heights they must hunger and starve
and die. ,
Come back to the valley of peace again.
—Eben E. JRerford, in Youth’s Companion.
“Fifty Cents a Ticket.”
BV AMT RANDOLPH.
She was spreading towels aud table¬
cloths on tho crisp, short grass to
bleach, when he saw her first—a slim,
Diana-like young creature, with large,
limpid eyes, a brown skin not entire y
innocent of freckles aud a mass of jet¬
ty shining hair, which had broken loose
from its coarse horn comb, and fell in
ink-black ripples down her back.
There was a little brook twining its
transparent sparkles around tho gnarled
roots of an ancient tree, and a back¬
ground of black-green laurel, which,
with tho sun-bathed meadow in front,
made a sort of rustic picture that struck
Paul Gcssner's artistic funcy as he
crossed the wooden bridge.
“Ishould like to sketch her,” he
thought to himself. “I wonder, now,
what she would say to it!”
But before he could get his pencil
and mill-boards out the young Diana
had poised her empty basket lightly on
her head and she was gone.
“I’m sorry for that,” soberly pon¬
dered Gessner. “She had a brilliant
Charlotte Corday sort of a face that
would havo stood the test of perpetua¬
tion on paper I”
And then Mr. Gessner woqt into the
inn and set himself at work to elabo¬
rate the notes of his lecture on “The
Literature of Queen Anne’s Time”
which was to be delivered the next
evening at the village hall.
There were plenty of people at the
inn. Brookbridge was a wild, sylvan
sort of place, which attracted people in
the summer season. Every farm house
and cottage in tho vicinity was crowd¬
ed, and a “Lecture” was something to
stir the quiet stagnation of their every¬
day life. Moreover, Paul Gessner had
a reputation for scholarly polish and
graceful wit, which had reached even
to Brookbridge, and everybody was
talking of the Lecture.
“Can’t I go?” said Natty Purple,
‘•©h, I wish I could go!”
The towels and table-cloths were all
bleached whiter than snow, between
the daisied grass and the July sunshine,
and Natty was sprinkling and folding
them now, with quick, deft fingers, in
an obscure corner of the kitchen.
“You go, indeed 1” said Miss Carrie
Podharn, who condescended to wait at
table during the crowded season.
“You’ve too much to do in the kitchen,
and besides, the tickets are fifty cents
each!”
Natty Purple sighed dolorously.
“Fifty cents 1” she repeated. “Oh,
then of course it’s out of the question I’’
For Netty’s slender wages were all of
SPRING PLACE. GA.. THURSDAY. MARCH 27, 1800.
them expended iu tha support of a
good-for-nothing old graudsiro who,
when he was not drinking whisky, was
suffering unheard-of agonies with the
rheumatism. She never wore anything
but calico, and drudged away In the
inn kitchen, like a modern Cinderella,
without any of the eciat which, in
ancient story, appertained to that young
P-'rson.
But. later in the evening, the head
stableman looked into the kitchen
where Cinderella was darning a well
worn table napkin, and Mrs. Podharn
was preparing brook-trout for a break¬
fast for the nnrrow’s early travellers.
“Where’s Jim?” said the head stable.
man.
“Gone out,” said Mrs. Podharn,
curtly.
“I want some one to row one of the
boarders out on the lake,” said tho
stableman. ‘•He’s a pieter painter, I
guess. lie wauts moonlight ellects, he
says” (with a chuckle). “I'd a deal
ruther hev feather pllow effects, my¬
self. Then where is Dick?”
“D.ck never's on hand when he’s
wanted,” Mrs. Podharn replied, “1
hcven’t seen him since supper."
“Then he’ll lose a fifty-cent job, ” said
the stableman. “Well, I s'pose I can
hunt up some one, somewhere."
“Fifty cents!” cried Natty Purple,
springing to her feet. “i’ll g°>
Thcmasl I'm handy with the oars,
and I’m just perishing for a breath of
cool air from tho water.”
“Them napkins isu’t mended,”
croaked Mrs. Podharn, discouragingly.
“I'll finish ’em when I come back,”
said Natty, coaxingly. “Do let me
go,4ust this oucc! ’
So that when Mr. Gessner came out
to the edge of the lake with his pic¬
turesque Spanish cloak thrown across
one shoulder, and his sketching ap¬
paratus under his arm, Natty Purple
sat in the boat ready to row him
whither he would go.
“Hallol" said Paul. “Why, you’re
a girlS ’
“Yes, I’m a girl,” apologetically
confessed Natty. “But I’m a good
hand to row, aud I know a'l about the
lake. I can take you straight to Echo
Cove, where the waterlilios grow
thickest, aud past the Old Indian
Rock, and—
“Agreed,” said Paul, gooi-humored
ly. “But was there no man about the
place to undertake this disagreeable
job?”
“Oh, it isn’t disagreeable,” said
Natty, earnestly. “I like to row!
And, besides, I do so much want to
earn fifty cent*.”
‘ Do you?” said Paul, as the little
boat, propelled by Natty’s skilful
strokes, vanished into tho deep shad¬
ow of tho overhanging birches that
friuged the lovely tides. “May I ven¬
ture to ask why?”
“Oh, yes,” said Natty. “It’s no
• secret. I want to go to the lecture to¬
morrow night.”
Paul Gessner smiled to liimsolf in the
moonlight, as ho sat there liko a Span¬
ish gondolier.
“Do you suppose it will be so very
interesting?” said he.
“Interesting!” echoed Natty. “Of
course it will be. Haven’t you heard?
Mr. Gessner is to deliver a lecture on
the “Literature of Queen Anne’s
T-me."
“And who is Mr. Gessner?” demand¬
ed the young man.
“If you don’t read tha magazines, of
course you can’t be expected to know,”
said Natty Purple, with some natural
impatience. ‘ ‘But I have read every¬
thing he writes. He is stopping at our
place now, they tell me.”
“Is lie?" said Paul. “You are the
landlady’s daughter, I presume?”
“No, I am not,” acknowledged hon¬
est Natty. “I help in the kitchen. I
am Nalalie Purple.”
“Well, then, to be honest with you,
Miss Purple,” said Paul, really feeling
a sting of conscience, “I am Paul
Gessner 1”
Natty gave such a start that the boat
careened dangerously to one side.
“You!” she cried.
“Yes, II Now, if you will take me
safe to the Echo Cove, I will give you
a complimentary ticket. So, there!”
“No,” said Nattie, with true woman¬
ly pride, “I accept no favors, even
though I am nothing but a working
girl. If I am to have a ticket at all, I
prefer to earn it.”
Paul was silent. In truth, and in
fact, he felt a little ashamed in the
presence of this flute-voiced, indepen¬
dent young beauty.
“You must have read a great deal,"
said he, at last. i
“Ohl I hare,” said Natty. ‘‘We are
not so busy in winter, you see; and be¬
f
sides, all the girls lent me their news, j
papers and magaziuos. But I never ex
pected to see a gentleman who wrote
books." “I hope he to expecta¬ j
comes up your
tion,” said Paul.
“I must have time to make up my
mind about that,” said Natty, with all
good faith.
And once again our hero found him¬
self at a loss for something to say.
But when he came out into the moon
.
bathed glories of the Echo Cove, whore
all the world was steeped in silver soft¬
ness and. the matted masses of water
lilies were swinging to and fro on the
tides like emerald carpets, his tongue
was loosened once again, and before
they came back he and Natty Purplo
were an terms of the plcasnutest ac¬
quaintanceship.
But ho had not skotchcd half as much
,
as ho had expected.
“Tho light was so uncertain," ho
said, ‘‘he could reproduce it better by
the next day’s memory.”
Natty went to the lecture with her
fifty-cent piece, and listened with a
grave and critical intentne.-s, which
spurred Paul Gessner on to his highest
elocutionary effects.
‘■It was very good,” sho said, the
next day, “very good indeed. It has
given me something to think about.
And, oh! dear, I have so much time for
thinking!”
‘ ‘Natty, ” said Mr. Gessner (everybody
called tho girl “Natty” here). “I have
been wondering why you stay here at
all.”
“Where else should Istay?” she ques¬
tioned him with a simplo directness.
‘•Why do you not go to Boston and
teach school!” he questioned.
“Oh!” cried Natty, clasping her
hands eagerly, “do you think there
would be any possibility of my obtain¬
ing a situation there?”
“We must see what can be done,”
said Paul, reflectively.
So Grandfather Purple was left in
charge of a thrifty neighbor, and stayed
by himself that winter, while Natty
went to Boston to try hor luck in one
of the grammar schools. In the spring
sho came back, apparently transformed
into a new creature.
“I didn’t want you,” growled the
old man. “Tho Widow Malley takes
good enough care of me. To tell you
the truth, wo was married last weok,
and Mrs. Purple sho don’t want no
step-granddarters around.”
“Oh, grandfather, I am so glad!”
cried Natalie, turning pink and white
in one breath. “Because I am not com¬
ing back to stay. Mr. Gessner—”
“Oh, I understand," said Grand¬
father Purplo, chuckling hoarsely.
“You’re going to be married, too. »>
“Yes,” said Natty, “I’m going to be
married.”
Thus ended the little Brookbridgc
idyl. Natalie was happy. So was Paul
Gessner. As for Grandfather Purple
and his elderly bride, let us hope that
they were not very unhappy. For the
roses and nightingales of life cannot bo
enjoyed by every one, and the spring
tide of the world comes but once.
Fashionable Smuggling.
There is a great deal more of this
fashionable smuggling than would gen¬
erally be supposed, says a New York
letter to the Chicago Herald. While
it is not all confined to very rich peo¬
ple, yet itis certain that they do a great
deal more than their share of it Tho
experience of the officials also bears
out the general impression that it is
almost as natural for a woman to smug¬
gle as it is for her to breathe, It is
hard for her to realize that bringing
m bonnets and everything else which
can contribute to her wardrobe whea
ever the chance is presented to do so
without paying duty is not both her
right and her duty. Consequently the
women inspectors at the Custom-House
have a great deal more work to do
than their fellows among the men.
Unprepared.
Palmer—It’s mighty funny, but there
are no less than six people with whom
I have been talking within a week who
are now dead.
Curtleigh—I haven’t the least doubt
of it. I’m sorry I can’t stop to listen to
you today, but the fact is I’m not pre¬
pared.
Appearances are against some people
and so are thSlr disappearances.
TANNING HIDES;
The Process by Which Skins are
Turned to Leather.
An Industry Giving Employment
to 50,000 Persons.
A hide that is to bo converted into
leather in this country makes so many
visits to New York before its caroer is
ended that it becomes almost a metro¬
politan product. Whether it comes
from some of the South American coun¬
tries or from tho Western plains, New
-York is its first destination, and it is
shipped hence to tho tanneries among
tho Berkshire hills, in the Catskills, in
,cchtnil New York, or in Pennsylvania.
Converted into leather, it returns to
this city, and is lost amid the dark and
altogether savory leather warehouses
in “tho Swamp.” In its new form it
is again sent out, this time to the shoe
factories of New England, only to re¬
turn to the New York wholesalers, to
be distributed by them to various parts
of the country. Even after this some
of the shoes are more than likely to And
their way to New York while in use,
and many of them end their days here.
The South American states arc the
great supply depots for hides, furnish¬
ing us with many times more than we
receive from the Western states of our
<#wn country.
When the hides reach New York
they are either “wet sailed” or “dry
salted.” If the former, each hide is
folded separately into about the space
of a cubic foot, and secured with a
rope arranged as neatly and evenly as
the bands of a bale of cotton. If “dry
salted;” they are laid out flat aud tied
in large bundles. Where hides and
bark meet, there is the tannery'. There
must be an abundance of oak or hem¬
lock bark, or both, iu tho vicinity, and
thr different kinds of hides ary s ent to
the different parts of the country where
they can best bo cured—upper-leathers
perhaps to Massachusetts, and sole
leathers to central New York.
Received at the tannery, the ropes arc
cut, and tlio hides are left for a few
days to soak in the “water pits” be¬
neath the floor, to soften them and put
them in condition to receive tho bark.
They arc then hung over wooden
“horses, ’ aud cut down through the
back to separate them into “sides.”
After thi? the hidos are put iuto tho
vats for a warm or cold “sweat," or are
soaked for a few days in a solution of
lime and water, the latter being tho
process in general "use. This loosens
the hair, which is taken off by “beam¬
ing” or “fleshing” tho hide by hand,
with an implement liko a blunt draw¬
ing-knife. All the rough parts are
trimmed off, and tho hide is “green
shaved” to rernovo tho roughness from
the flesh sido. The work of tlio lime
is now accomplished, and the skin is
“unlimed” by repeated drencliings in
warm water, till it is almost as white
as a new shirt. Then the real
tanning begins. The “liquor,”
made by “leaching” water
through ground bark much as old
housewives make lye from wood ashes,
is stored in tanks, and the hides are
dippoi till they get a pale leather color,
and are left in piles for a day or two.
Then part of tho floor is removed,
and tlio vats are exposed, and as each
hide is spread out in the vat it is care¬
fully covered with dampened ground
bark. In this “first layer" tho hides
are left for a week, in tho “second
layer” for two weeks, and in the third
or “splitting layer,” for four weeks.
After hanging out for a few days to
dry, they go through an iron roller
machine to be “split,” which makes
them uniform in thickness, and ou the
flattening board the thicker parts are
pounded out. After another soaking
. Q s(rong bark liqlJ0r they g0 through
^ prQC0s3 of .. curryingi » wWch ia
.
cludes gC0U ring, stretching and black
ing> Sole . leathor needs no curryingt
^ l8nned tQ a firm conditioDi in¬
stead of being, liko upper-leather,
stretched to firmness.
A day m a tanuery is a day well
spent, acquainting the visitor with an
industry that gives employment in this
, country to more than fifty thousand
persons. Leather experts say that it is
on account of tho superior quality and
great quantity of work done by em¬
ployes in American tanneries that they
are able to sell American leather in the
markets of Europe in successful com
! petition with tho product of choftp Eu¬
ropean labor. “We pay a man,” they
Vol. X. New Series. NO. 8.
say, “three dollars a day, and he does
three dollars’ worth of work. In Eu- |
rope they pay him only one dollar, and 1
get only a dollar’s worth in return.”—
Harper's Weekly.
Hickory-Trees.
Most people, East and West and
North and South, know that splendid
tree, now becoming somewhat scarce, -
which is called in New England tho
“shag-bark walnut,” and in the rest of
the country by its proper name, the j
hickory. Garden and Forest gives an
interesting account of this tree, which
is strictly an American product, tho
eight known species of the genus being i
limited to tho southern half of tho i
North American continent.
The hickories, at least some of the j
species, are among the most valuable
trees in the world. There arc few
boys or girls whose home has been in
any part of the country east of tlio
Missouri River who have not early
learned to appreciate either the pccau
cr tho shag-bark or the mocker-nut.
The wood which some of these treos
yield has no superior, if, indeed, it has
any equal, for certain important pur- |
poses. j
It is the hickory wood in its handle
which has carried the American axe
around the world, and has driven,
wherever it is known, all other axes out
of the market. Tho same wood has
made possible those light carriages
which in turn have made possible tho
American trotiing-horse, one of the
marvels of modern times. No other
tree is known the wood of which is
tough enough and strong enough to
stand tho strain imposed upon the
American trottiug-rulky, and without
the modern sulky and its heavier foro
ruuner, neither breeding nor training
could have produced that race of horses
which every Amcricau looks upon with
patriotic admiration.
The shell- bark hickory is considered,
generally, tho most valuable species of
tho gonus, though its nuts are not
esteemed so highly as tho p; cans. Tho
sliell-hark is the tree which people
commonly have in mind when they
think or speak of a hickory-tree; and
the peculiarity of tho bark, which
separates into great, thick, loose scales,
gives to the treo a distinctive appear
auco by which it is easily recognized.
Not many Eastern people, unloss they
are acquainted with the forests of the
Mississippi Valley, and more especially
those found on the higher Alleghany
Mountains, know what a really largo
hickory-tree is.
The shell-barks of Southern Indiana
are sometimes ono hundred and fifty
feet tali, with trunks four or five feet
in diameter, and bare of limbs for
seventy or eighty feet; and even larger
trees can bo found in the still almost
untouched forests of Eastern Tennessee
and Western North Carolina.
But those larger trees are doomed,
and before many years have passed
every hickory-tree of sufficient sizo and
proper quality will have been sacrificed
to supply the ever-increasing demand
for tbe wood.
Of all our troe3 the hickory is the
one which should be planted wherever
suitable land can be spared for it; aud
wherever it grows naturally it should
be protected and cherished, both for
its beauty and usefulness as a tree, and
becauso of the value, not to say the in¬
dispensableness, of its wood.
Maklng Pearls to Order.
Whether the peart has gone out ol
fashion because of the facility with
which artificial ones have been made is
a matter that may be accepted as in s
great measure true, for tho pearl is one
of tho most beautiful of gems. In ad¬
dition to the efforts, successful too,
towards making artificial pearls, efforts
have also been mado from time to time
to force the oyster itself to produce the
pearls by introducing foreign substan ces
within the shells, which have not been
altogether successful. In tho South
Kensington Museum in London the
writer has scon sovcral evidences of
those attempts, as well as shells which
came from China containing small im¬
ages of Buddha. It is said that those
were originally moulded in tin foil and
then placed between tho shell and tho
mantle of the oyster. Tho shells were
then returned to their natural beds, and
after a time a layer of mother-of-pearl
coated these figures and attached them
to the shell. In some instances they
are cut out and sold, and it is said that
the Chinese priests claimed them to be
evidences of their miracle-working
powers.
Sub Rosa.
I have heard the robins singing
Where the sweet magnolia grows;
I have seen the zephyrs Hinging
Twilight kisses to the rose;
But a sweeter song has tilled me
Than the birds in perfumed bowers,
And a softer kiss has thrilled me
Than the south winds on the flowers.
I have felt the lilies blowing
Dewy fragrance in the morn;
I have seen the sunbeams glaring
Golden blushes on the corn;
But I know a flower that's fairer
Than the lilies ever grew,
And I love a blush that's rarer
Than the sunbeam's softest hue.
1 have seen the moonbeams flying
Over starlit, silvery seas;
1 have heard the zephyrs sighing
Through the orange-blossomed trees;
But a purer ray has blessed me
Than the moonlight on the sands,
And a sot ter sigh caressed me
Than the breath of Tropic lands.
She is fairer than the flowers;
She is sweeter than the rose,
And her heart of kindness showers
Blessings everywhere she goes.
Altruistic—without sinning- -
She's an angel from the sky
(Far above my earthly winning)—
She’s engaged! and so am I!
—Larry Chittenden.
HUMOROUS.
The oyster carries his shelter with
him.
A watchmaker belongs to the sell- tick
race.
Little dogs bark the most, becauso
that is all they can do.
A prudent man is liko a pin—his
head prevents him going too far.
A fruitless search—The one a farmer
makes after tho small boy has passed
through the orchard.
Tommy—Pa, what does “the lap of
luxury”incau? Mr. Figg—Means a cat
drinking crcatn, I suppose.
Carberry—It strikes mo you are
rather long paying that bill. Snodsy—*
That’s because I am so short. ;
Jessie—I’m sure Charlie loves me,
hut he’s afraid to propose. Bessie—.
Well, that shouldn’t surprise you at
all.
Photographers are the most charita¬
ble of men, for they are always anxious
to take the best view of their fellow
croalures.
“Alfred,” sho said, disengaging her
hand, “those horrid meu saw us—what
did they say as they passed by?” “How
touching.”
“So Smith h«3 failed. How much
money did he get with his wife?” “Her
face is her fortune.” “No wonder he
had to make an assignment.”
“What do you valuo that handsome
spaniel at, if I may ask?” "Well, if
you want to buy him he’s worth $500,
anti if you’re the assessor I reckon he’s
worth about 19 cents.”
Two howling pet dogs in a back yard
uptown were struck by two bullets last
night. Howling dogs should cut this
out and paste it in their hats.
The quintessence of laainess is illus¬
trated by a Dutch artist who was com¬
missioned to paint a picture of “Jonah
and tho Whale,” and who thereupon
painted a picture of a very large whale,
explaining that Jonah would be found
inside tho monster.
Little Brother — Can’t you walk
straight, Mr. Mangle? Mr. Mangle—
Of course I can. Why do you ask?
Little Brother—Oh, nothing; only I
heard sister say she’d make you walk
straight when she married you. And
ms said she'd help her.
John—I’m sorry I shall be away so
long, Mis3 Janet. You don’t know how
I hate to say “good-by” to you, but I
suppose the best of friends must part,j
you know. Janet—Oh, yes, and what’s
the uie of people who are nothing to
each other growing sad over separation!
That’s the way I look at it.
A Stove Used as a Bed.
In the north of China the climate U
quite cold, und there are no stoves os
fireplaces in the wayside inns. In some
of the general rooms are small charcoal
braziers, but the bedrooms, which are
very scantily furnishod, contain neither
stove nor bed. In their place is a brick
platform, long enough for a man to
stretch himself at full length upon and
raised a foot or two from the floor with
an opening in the side. i
Into this aperture the servant pushes
a pan of burning coals, and when the
bricks are thoroughly heated the travel¬
er be spreads has brought out upon with them him and the lies bedding^ down
to rest on his stove.