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JOHN R. 9KAL.S. - Bdltor **d Proprietor.
W. B. 8KAUI, - Proprietor »»d Cor. Krtltor.
MRS. HART B. BRYAN (•) Aeeoelote Bditor.
ATT.aKTA, GEORGIA. FEBRUARY 9, 1878,
Boston Bbos.. of Opelika, Ala., are Agents for
The Sonny 8ooth.
Geo. W. Nobman Esq. is our general traveling
Agent in Kentucky and the North Western
States.
The Sonny Sooth is always discontin
ued at the expiration of the time paid for.
^Z5®“Don’t send ns postage stamps, if you can
get anything else.
“Wild Work’’—“That Story of Mine.”.?
Fibbing has grown to be a fine art and favor
ite pastime in this nineteenth century; yet I
confess to an old-fashioned prejudice in favor
of truth, and to feeling a qualm of conscience,
as though accessory to an “ erroneous state
ment,” (that is the euphonious way of putting
it), %hen letters come to Col. Seals, saying :
“You announced a story from Mrs. Bryan ever
so long ago—why is it not forthcoming ?
Now, the Senior's announcement was made in
perfect good faith, but man proposes and cir
cumstances dispose. The reason “Wild Work”
has not been forthcoming is because there has
been so much other work for me—work not a
bit “ wild,”but very monotonous and “tread
mill-like.” Col. Seals, wrestling with a flood of
correspondence, which, with the aid of his sec
retary he can hardly stem—has been able to
give but little help lately in the editorial con
duct of this paper.
Writing editorials, revising manuscripts, go
ing through heaps of exchanges, in order to
catch and transfix upon a commenting pen-
point all that is fresh in the world of thought or
action—this is work that fills up the days won
derfully. Then, there is “Beys and Girls of
the South” to attend to—a pleasure more than a
duty—but still work. And there (I had nearly
forgotten it) is the proof-reading. That proof
reading ! would it could forget me! Proof
reading, after inexperienced printers! for I
have told you part of our typographical force
are young girls, and that the Sonny South is
bound to put in practice its cherished idea of
opening available employments to the women
of our land—though a proof-reader be martyr
ized thereby. A proof-reader is born, not
made. He must be “evolved” from a ferret,
and possess an instinctive capacity for carving
heads upon cherry stones, and finding pins in
hay stacks —a genius akin to that of the histor
ical expert who shot millet seed through a nee
dle’s eye and received from his kingly master
♦ »,* r.t a VincViol millof on»d
matter of proof-reading. Wrong letters—let
ters standing on their heads—impudent commas
popping up where they have no business, elude
me with a malignant persistence that induces a
belief in the old tradition of the diabolism of
type, and its invention through the agency of
the '.—well, of that cloven-footed person
age, concerning whose headquarters the preach
ers have had such a squabble recently.
But about “Wild Work"—I don’t like that
name, but it was the only one that would come
into my head when suddenly looked in upon
and requested to christen the prospective brain
child instanter, as the “long-primer,” (that dia
bolical type, again!) was waiting to announce
it; “Wild Work,” then, is really going to have
a chance to be written and published very soon.
Next week it is promised that I shall have a bit of
liberty, away from this dingy cage, misnamed a
sanctum. Some other body shall sit behind
this desk and fish manuscript from its crammed
pigeon-holes, and turn letters right side up in
proof-slips, while I stay c t home out of hearing
of the harpy cry of “copy!”
Then, before a big country fire of hickory and
pine-knots, or (if the weather smile balmily, as
it did of late,) down by the branch on the
knotty, moss-cushioned knees of the great pop
lars, I will evolve the promised story from my
imagination—or rather, memory, for the main
incidents are true —a transcript from life, incor
porating an episode of State-history so rich in
dramatic elements that I would give anything
for time to werk it up properly. However, I
must do mon possible, under the circumstances,
hoping that I won’t make dull work instead of
“ Wild Work,” out of it, Dut promising, at any
rate, that in three numbers after this it
will have a beginning, thenceforward to wind
out smoothly to the end, provided I can have
partial immunity from the “sanctum," and that
the “Fatal Sisters” do not, in the meantime,
cut short my vital thread, and par consequent,
that of my story. *
Death of a Noble Woman.
Mrs. A. P. Hill, widow of the widely known
and honored Judge Edward Y. Hill, of Geor
gia, died suddenly at her residence in Atlanta,
on the 29th ult. Her remains were carried to
LaGrange and laid beside those of her husband.
In her death a great loss is sustained, not only
by this community, but by the country at large,
for her benificent influence, extended outside
her wide circle of friends and acquaintances
to those, whom, though personally unknown to
her, she had touched to pure thought or roused
to worthy effort by her pen.
Our readers remember with pleasure Mrs.
Hill’s contributions to the Sonny South. How
attractive she made those columns set apart for
her, which she modestly called “The Domestic
Department,” though they contained sugges
tions of a higher and wider range. Such sunny
yet sterling philosophy did they inculcate and
so pleasantly did she teach us how to keep our
lives clean and beautiful, as well as our homes.
So delightfully did she talk of the lovliness of
that charity that speaketh and thinketh no evil,
of kindness, Christian patience, and all those
noble attributes that she well illustrated in her
life.
In the same spirit in which she kept up her
department in the Sunny South, did she write
|the ‘-Cook Book,” which has found a place in
nearly every household in the South. Though ;
justly regarded as an oraole in all matters per-;
taining to the domestic cuisine, the book is
more than a collection of recipes. A spirit of
refined humanity betrays itself, even in the
simple instructions about household affairs,
showing as they do, a real anxiety that her coun
try women shall learn to order their homes with
wise economy and a regard to health and com
fort.
Mrs. Hill's association with the Sunny South
was a pleasant one, both to her and her readers.
It was only sundered because its duties con
flicted with those of the responsible position
she oocupied as Superintendent of the Orphan
School of this city. Faithfully and nobly did
she perform the arduous work required in this
sphere. She was rewarded by the affection and
reverenoe of pupils and teachers, and many an
orphan's heart is sore to-day at the loss of one
who was their friend and mother, as well as
teacher.
It was Mrs. Hill’s sympathetic unselfish heart
that won her so many friends—friends that did
not forget or forsake her in the changed fortunes
that came with the loss of wealth and the death
of her distinguished husband. These honored
her more for the noble fortitude with which she
bore her sorrows, the cheerful and tireless en
ergy with which she labored for the sake of the
young grand children left to her care, than
they had done when she moved among them, a
social leader, or dispensed a gracious and gen
erous hospitality in her beautiful home.
But to-day the warm, true heart is still—the
tired hand and brain are at rest, and we have
only the memory of the kind face, of the gentle
hand and voice—the patient smile—the true
brave woman, who could put aside her own cares
and wants, to comfort, strengthen, and werk for
others.
For those of her own household—the daughter
and the orphan grandchildren, who loved her
so devotedly—our deepest sympathies are
awake. She, for whom they weep was friend
and mother in more than the ordinary meaning
of the word, and their only comfort is the
knowledge that she to-day enjoys the rest and
the happiness she so well deserved. *
44 Nym Crinkle” Sits Down Upon Miss An
derson’s Trail.
Northern hyper-orites finding it impossible to
deny dramatic genius to “that Western girl,”
Mary Anderson, turn their attention to her
clothes and waste half-columns of type in ridi
culing her costumes, which is rather small work,
for though an artist should be careful to give
herself an appropriate setting, it is nothing but
idiocy or prejudice that would ignore the bright
ness of a gem for a fault in the mounting. Be
sides, it seems hardly possible that Miss Ander
son—if she has no eye for harmony herself—
should have such poor advisers and designers of
costume.
Some of the of the criticisms, however, are
funny, and one, by the Sun’s funny
“HOW 1 WASHINGTON - BROKE THirTHIRD
COMMANDMENT.
That the Father of his country never told a
iie.or swore an oath —has always been, as it were,
one of the articles of our constitution, to doubt
which were treason and anti-patriotism. Sud.
day School teachers and anxious parents labored
to impress it upon their boyish charges, who,
true to their boy natures,conceived a distaste for
the pattern youth thus persistently held up for
their imitation, and thought of the “Father of
bis country” as a solemn youth with a long vest
and visage—a machine wound up and warrant
ed never to get out of order— instead of a flesh-
and-blood individual prone to err like ordinary
humanity, but strong to repent and amend.
Now however, it transpires that Washington
was after all, not such a goody-good personage
as to revolt human sympathy, and that he did
once, and under great provocation, swear an oath.
Mrs. Stowe tells the story in her new serial,
“Our Folks at Poganne," and though the Beech
er family are reported to override truth and
Scripture in their hunt after a new sensation
Henry Ward having brushed away that little
restraining myth about hell—and though “Aunt
Harriet” since her Byron affair, has not been
appreciated in her efforts to throw light upon
history, yet we see no reason to doubt this sto
ry about Washington having once made a lapsus
linguae in the shape of an oath. Any how, the
story is graphic. A revolutionary veteran, Col.
Davenport, is seated around the fire-side ot the
parson. The Father oi his country is discuss
ed, of course with unbounded eulogy—the good
parson pointing out how miraculously moral the
General-in-chief must have been never to have
been betrayed into the military vice of swear
ing. The Colonel assents hesitatingly, and
finally owns that he has heard the great Com
mander give way on one occasion
him. Sir, on my soul, I thought when I turned
back that I was going straight into eternity', but
I had rather face death than him.”
“And he swore?”
“Indeed he did —but it was not profane swear
ing; it was not taking God’s name in vain, for it
sent us back as if we had been chased by light
ning. It was an awful hour, and he saw it; it
was life or death; countiy or no country.”
“Sir,” said Dr. Cushing starting up and pac
ing the room, “it was the oath of the Lord ! It
would be profane to call it swearing.”
“Yes, sir,”said the Colonel, “yon remember
that one time Moses threw down both tables of
the law and broke them, and the Lord did not
reprove him.”
“Exactly,” answered the Doctor: “he saw
his nation going to ruin and forgot all else to
save them. The Lord knows how to distinguish.”
“ But, sir,” said the Colonel, “ I never tell
this, except to the initiated. No man who saw
Washington then dared ever to allude to it after
ward. He was habitually so calm, so collected,
so self-contained, that this outburst was the
more terrific. Whatever he felt about it was
settled between him and his Maker. No man
ever took account with him.”
Then followed a few moments of silence, when
Dolly emerged from a dark corner—her cheeks
very much flushed, her eyes very wide and
bright—and pressing up to the Colonel’s knee,
said eagerly :
“But, oh please, sir, what became of you and
the men?”
The Colonel looked down and smiled as he
lifted Dolly on his knee. Why, my little girl,
here I am, yon see; I wasn’t killed after all.”
“ But did you really go clear back ?" asked
Dolly.
“ Yes, my dear, we all went back and staid
two or three hours; and when it came morning
we made believe to be the whole army. We
made our fires and we got our breakfasts and
we whistled and talked and made all the stir we
EDITORIAL MENTION.
Delicious Apple and Peach Butter by the
bucket-full at Hagan’s repository of good things
on Whitehall street Also, Raspberry Jam and
Carrant Jelly of the freshest and most piquant.
Our. artistic sign-painters, Tripot A Pine,
have recently completed a most handsome drop
curtain and shifting scenes for a new theatre at
Cartersville, Georgia, and we guarantee that
there is not a handsomer little place of amuse
ment in the South.
Of all repugnant sights, a bald head is
among the worst. But there is no sense in
having such spectacles when there is a man in
New York city who can cover the head with a
toupe that will look so natural that the most
scientific barber cannot detect it. See his an
nouncement in this paper and write him at
once. His address is G. Rauchfuss, 44 East
12th street, New York city.
We invite special attention to the law eard of
M. H. Lane, Esq., of Washington, Ga. He is
a graduate of the Law School of Virginia, and
has been associated with Gens. Toombs and Du-
Bose and Judge Garnett Andrews. Send him
your business.
Amono the many excellent machinists in this
city we are pleased to make special mention of
Mr. R. Patterson who has recently established
himself in this city. He is a native Kentuckian
and comes from the grand old city of Louisville.
He is an educated and scientific machinist and
understands thoroughly the whole scienoe of
machinery in all its varied and complicated de
tails. Give him a call.
could, but as the good Lord would have it there
was such a thick fog that you could not see j R. jj. Musikal? If not, why not? If so. re-
your hand before your face. You see that while j m jt $1.25 subscription to the “Southern Musi-
the fog hung over the island and covered us, it i ca i Journal,” and get as a Premium, $1.00 worth
—„ „ii Sviw ” 0 f sh ee t Music of your own selection from the
was all clear down the river.
“ Why, that’s just the way it was when they
crossed the Red Sea,”said Dolly, eagerly; “ was
Then there was a little edging towards the | it not, Paoa ?”
, , , «, ^ u . ! “Something so, my dear, said her father;
Colonel, both ot the Doctor and Mrs Pushing . mo ther made her a sign not to talk,
as the Colonel, looking dreamily tar into the ------
. hickory coals, said :
1 “ ‘Yes, sir ; that was one of those critical
| times in our war, when it turned on the events
j of a few hours whether we had been the nation
1 we are now, or trodden down under the British
heel ; whether Washington had been made Pres
ident of the United States, or hanged for trea
son. It was at the time of the Long Island re
treat.” ’
“And you were there?” asked Dr. Cushing.
The Doctor knew very well that the Colonel was
there, and was eager to draw him out.
“There? Sir, indeed I was,’’ answered the
Colonel. “I shall never forget it lo my dying
day. We had been fighting all day at terrible
odds, our men falling all round us like leaves,
and the British pressing close upon us; so close,
that when it grew dark we could hear every
movement in their camp, every sound of pick,
or shovel, or gun. Our men had got behind
How long did it take to do the whole thing?”
“ Well, thanks to those Marblehead boys, by
daybreak the greater part of the army were
safe on the New York side. A little after day
light we marched off'quietly and went down to | ca [ House, Savannal
the ferry. Washington was still there, aud we 1
begged him to go in the first boat; but no, he
was immovable. He saw us all off, and went
himself in the very last boat, after every man
was in.”
largest stock South, and also a Premium Ticket
in the Grand Premium Drawing for a superb
$800 Piano, which will be presented to the first
1,000 subscribers received in 1878. $12 worth
of ohoice music published in the “Journal”
yearly. Music buyers can't afford to be with
out it. Try it one year and you will want it for
a lifetime. Specimen copy for 3 cent stamp.
Published at Ludden & Bates’ Southern Musi-
Ga.
Battles Around Atlanta.
The South to the Front.
The South is fast becoming the most inde
pendent region in the world. She is rapidly
recuperating from the bad effects of the war;
while its good effects—the rousing of dormant
energy, the opening of diversified industry, the
quickening of intellect and development ol
__ _ _ thrift and ingenuity, through necessity — are
their intrenchments, and there the enemy stop- g jj 0wn j n increasing population and busi-
ped pn»»ing. What a night that was! We ^ e ise of her older citie8 and the
mar (Nym Crinkle) is not only witty but w's
extensions are often ludicrously distressing in
their length, and their bearers remind one of
the negro cotton-picker dragging her enormous
sack behind her as she goes doun the
row in a Louisiana field of the staple. The grace
of the appendage is not always apparent in the
ladies of the stage, as will be conceded by any
one who has seen Agnes Herndon’s vigorous
back-kick, when she attempts to wheel. No
matter what her tragic agony or ecstasy may be,
she never forgets the back-action part of her
drill, which she executes with a “power” that
would put a Kentucky mule to blush.
Nym Crinkle says that when Miss Anderson
entered as Pauline Deschappelles, she came on
the stage “ in longitudinal sections. It was not
possible to say exactly when she ceased to arrive.
Certain subordinate portions kept coming
along after the vanguard had reached its posi
tion, and these portions swept in with billowy
luxuriousness, and curled themselves round the
boards symmetrically, and drifted up against
the scenes, and banked themselves up into what
may be called the outskirts of Anderson. It was
thus truly said of her that she filled the stage.
It would be still more correct to say that she in
undated it.
“In dress, at least, the actress had the ‘bound
less contiguity’ of the prairie, and she succeed
ed in converting her lover into a kind of Buffalo
Bill, who found it necessary every time that he
would discover his heroine to first get upon her
trail.
“ When Claude, in full pursuit, came on in
hot haste and struck the trail, it was interesting
to watch him search through its convolutions
for the fountain head of woman, which an un
erring instinct told him was at one end or the
other. No less pleasant was it to observe the
satisfaction which irradiated his face when he
had ferreted out the Pauline from her sprawling
wealth of clothes.
y I mention this in proof of my assertion that
Miss Anderson is an uncut diamond. The lap
idary who shapes her will begin with a pair of
scissors.” *
Dull Times on Wall Street.
A New York letter says there never was a
greater dearth of legitimate business on Wall
street, then there is at present. “You may
know,” writes the correspondent, “how bad
matters are, when I tell you that a young bro
ker said to me yesterday: ‘I intend to give up
New York and all my friends and associations,
on account of the lack of either present opportu
nity or a prospect of one, and go to South
America to take charge of a mine, at a salary of
$2,000 a year. I shad be two hundred miles
from Rio Janeiro, with only a gang of negroes
for company. A cheerful idea isn’t it? I shall
sell my seat in the Stock Exchange, which cost
me $5,400,Jand which may possibly bring a few
hundred more, and then set sail for that un
healthy place, where the chances are I shall die
of some fever or other. But what is a man to
do ? There is absolutely no outside business
doing and no chance of any.’ The young man,
who spoke is a member of one of New York's
oldest and best families—no parvenues, but {the
simon-pure Knickerbockers^—and to every ad
vantage of social position he adds a pleasing
address, business energy, and the tastes of a
New Yorker, who belongs to a Union Club, and
looks upon the Brunswick or Delmonico’s as
the centre of a social universe. Certainly he
would scarcely go to South America to superin
tend a gang of negrojminers at a moderate sal
ary, unless matters were very blue indeed. It is
a puzzle how the brokers live nowadays; cer
tainly some of them have been foroed to relin
quish their luxuries, as the reduced member
ship of the New York Yacht Club, for instance,
plainly shows.
were deadly tired—dispirited as only fellows
can be that have seen their friends shot down
about them; no tents, no shelter, and the sen
tries of the victorious enemy only a quarter of a
mile from our lines. Nearly two thousand, out
of the five thousand men we had in the fight,
were killed, wounde^'^’missing. Well, it was
... (o-.ihu i!», £nx..WsaJ>0l£O<'„ Jot
round at four o'clock li the morning to see to
us and speak a word ol cheer here and there.
It was a cold, drizzling, "gloomy, rainy morning,
but we could see through the fog a large en
campment; and they were intrenching them
selves, though the rain drove them into their
tents. The day advanced, continuing rainy
and stormy, and they made no move to attack
us. Our scouts, that were out watching the
motions of the en my down at Red Hook, got a
peep at the shipping at Staten Island and saw
at once that there was a movement and bustle
there, as if there was something on foot; and
they got the idea that the enemy were planning
a turn of tide to come up behind us in the East
River, and cut us off from the army in New
York. Sir, that was just what they were mean
ing to do; and, if they had, we should have
been caught there like rats in a trap, the war
would have been ended, and Washington hang
ed. The party hurried back to tell the General.
A council of war was held, and it was decided
that we all must cross to New York that very
night. There it was; nine thousand men, vith
all our baggage and artillery, to steal away in
the night from that great army, and they so
near that we could hear every dog that barked
or man that whistled among them.”
“How wide was the place to be crossed?”
asked the Doctor.
“Full three-quarters of a mile, sir, and with
a rapid tide sweeping through. As the Lord’s
providence would have it, Colonel Glover had
just come in that day with his Marblehead reg
iment-thirteen hundred fishermen and sailors,
such as the world cannot equal.”
“Glorious!” exclaimed the Doctor. God bless
the Marblehead boys !”
“Yes, they saved us, nnder God and the Gen
eral; we never could have crossed without them.”
“Well, the General sent to the Quartermaster
to impress all the boats and transports of every
kind that could be got,|and have them ready by
evening. By eight o'clock they were all at
Brooklyn, and nnder the management of the
Marblehead regiment. Word was given out in
the army to be prepared for a night attack, and
the poor fellows, tired as they were, were all up
and ready to move on order.
“Then Washington ordered General Miffln’s
brigade, including what remained of our regi
ment, to stay and keep the intrenchments with
guards and patrols and sentinels posted, to make
the enemy believe we were there, while the rest
all moved down to the water and embarked.
“Now I tell you, sir, it was a good deal harder
to stand there than to be moving just then. We
were wide awake and we counted the minutes.
It is always longer to those who wait than to
those who work. The men were true as steel,
but, poor fellows, there is a limit to human en
durance, and they got pretty restive and ner
vous. So, between you and me, did we officers
too. Standing still in such a danger is a thous
and times worse than fighting.
“Finally the men began to growl and mutter;
it was all we could do to hold them; they were
sure the army had crossed—word must have
been sent to them ! So, finally, when Washing
ton’s Aid misunderstood his order and came
running to say that we were to move down, we
started on the double-quick and got to the
shore. There we found that the tide had turned,
a strong northeast wind was blowing, the boats
had been brought without oars enough to convey
the troops, the sail-boats were unable to make
head against wind and tide, and fuH half the
army were still on Long Island shore!
“Washington stood there amid the confusion
and perplexity—when, in the midst of his
troubles, down we all came.
“Sir, I never saw a mortal being look as Gen.
Washington looked at us. He ordered us back
with a voice like thunder, and I never heard
such a terrific volley of curses as he poured out
upon ns when the men hesitated. Sir, that man
was so dreadful that we all turned and ran.
We had rather face the judgment day than face
Gen. W. H. T. Walker, a prominent gentle
man in this State, who was a most gallant and
honored Confederate officer in the late war,
writes us in these complimentary terms of the
sketches of “Battles Around Atlanta,” which
we are now publishing in the columns of the
Sunny South : “I have read the several papers
containing the intensely interesting description
of the “Battles Around Atlanta,” and can as
sure you I have derived great pleasure from
their perusal.” The next paper of the series
(number seven) will give a sketch of the life,
character and military career of Gen. William
Henry Talbot Walker.
ness enterprise
springing up and flourishing of new ones.
The Trade Journal of Louisville gives this
sketch of the prominent Southern cities— their
population, advantages and prospects
The Death of Win. F. Brown.
Macon, Georgia, has lost one of its most use
ful,’popular and amiable citizens in the death
of Wm. F. Brown, of the Brown House, and
ipuiniivAi| cava * M ^ ^ I t • • T '
Richmond, Virginia, now has has a population [ the entire city recognized that fact in one uni-
— — ^ 1 - ■ versal expression of grief and mourning. It is
a serious and solemn disaster.to that popular
r*'™ u,cu 18 so wcu-Kndwn all over the
nited States, and what a sad disappointment
will it be to thousands of people to miss the
genial face of “patient Billy” from his accus
tomed place. The sympathies of the entire
Public go out in full force to the bereaved fa
ther, mother, wife and children who loved him
so dearly.
We have in hand a description of his funeral,
of over 76, 000. Located at the hea4_.o.f tide
water, wljwre five railroads and the ^ve^iwha
of this beautiful city are extensively engaged in
commerce and manufactures. >
Memphis, Tennessee, contains abouj 70, 000
people, and has become the fourth largest cot
ton uepot in America. In point of cotton sales,
it ranks second. It is the chief business centre
between St. Louis and New Orleans.
Savannah, Georgia, has a population of 30,-
000, and is driving a brisk trade, foreign and for our next paper.
domestic. It is the second largest cotton port
in the South, and carries on a large business in | Atlanta Loses a Noted Citizen
lumber and naval stores. Atlanta, the State 1 The sudden death laat
Capital, stands at the junction of five important „ van , ,, 1 week of Col. Tom Al-
railroads. Its population is about 50. 000. Au- * tler ’. ttle wea ‘ t hy contractor and real-estate
population is about 50, 000. Au
gusta, with a population of over 21, 000, stands
at the head of navigation where five important
railroads connect. It has one large cotton fac
tory and five flour mills.
Salma, Alabama, is rapidly becoming a great
centre of trade in cotton, lumber, iron and coal.
It is the terminus of eight railroads. Mobile
has a population of over 35, 000, and as a cotton
market, almost rivals New Orleans. Manufac
tures are assnming an important feature.
Texas is increasing in population at an ur.»
precedented rate. Galveston contains over 40,-
000 people. As a port of entry, with the best
harbor on the Gulf, this enterprising city is go
ing ahead finely. Dallas now numbers more
than 16, 000, and is the centre of a great wheat
and cotton growing region, where the people are
fully alive to the importance of manufactures.
Indeed, the South is pushing forward in all
owner of Atlanta, was a blow to the business
enterprise of this city. It is a loss to the com
munity in other respects. Though deficient in
education, Col. Alexander was a man of sterling
strength of mind, of unimpeachable honesty
strict yet just in his business dealings, the soul
ol candor and straight-forwardness, abrupt of
manner, yet often concealing under a rough
exterior a heart whose kindness showed itself in
generous acts, and an intellect keenly apprecia
tive of whatever was good in the character and
conduct of others. He paid his debts, kept his
promises-though he exacted fair work for fair
wages—and fulfilled whatever he planned. He
^ a ^ 1U „„ , was a man ’ wh °—' had his early advantages and
directions. No longer a mere agricultural region, j associations been favorable—would have left his
she is beginning to rival the North and East in i mark on the age. His enormous physique and
manufactures. Capitalists are constantly at- irregular, but strongly marked features indexed
tracted to her cities and thriving towns where his eccentric but powerful cast of character
rich returns follow close upon liberal invest- - , .... , ^uaraoier.
ments. * His extensive building enterprises gave employ
ment to labor and greatly benefited the city.
As an active, enterprising citizen, an honest
man and a staunch friend, he will be missed in
outside oircles, while his family have lost a kind
husband and father. •
Cook on the Silver Question.
Rev. Joseph Cook’s Monday morning lectures
are becoming famous. The last was upon the
silver bill, which he opposes quite earnestly,
saying among other things, that the most intel
ligent Boards of Trade are against its passage.
“The Boston Board of Trade has appealed to Con
gress against its passage, and at the same time
lias not been unmindful of the interest of the
poor man. The Boston Board of Trade is wil
ling to have all debts under ten dollars—under
any small sain—paid in silver; willing that sil
ver shall be legal tender in small amounts; and
that takes off a burden from persons who are
extremely poor, and diminishes the weight of
clamor concerning two kinds of money, one for
the rich and another for the debtor class.
“If the silver bill were to become a law it would
depreciate the valne of the savings banks de
posits of the poor. Who does not know that
every man who has put money into a bank has
expected, and has been led to expect by the ac
tion of the general government, that it wonld
gradually appreciate in value ? We have had a
terrific experience with an inflated currency
in the form of paper, and yet we have little by
little come oat of it, such is the recuperative
power of American commercial life. Now, on
the heels of the disasters which have followed
oar inflated currency, and which in some senses
have turned a great part of the country into a
gambling house, we are asked to inflate the cur
rency again by agreeing that ninety-two cents in
silver shall be worth a hundred in gold. Many
of the evils whioh came to savings banks under
the old inflation will come in this proposed new
inflation. Every man has been watching the
rise of the value of the paper currency. It now
is almost ready to transform itself into gold.
We shall resume the cash payment of paper
promises soon, and do so in the hardest coin—
that which is the standard of the world. Bnc it
is very evident that if the silver bill were to pass,
and the new inflation were to enter upon its
course, every man who has made a contract,
every man who has money out at interest, would
be more or less defrauded.
A Kentucky editor remarks that ninety-nine
out of a hundred people make a great mistake
when tney cut off a dog’s tail in throwing awav
the wrong end. That’s just what’s the matter.
Propositions for 1878.
Now is the time to begin with the new
stories.
For a club of six at $2.50, we will
send a copy free for one year.
For $5, we will send two copies one
year.
For 13.50 we will send the Sunny
South and Boys and Girls of the
South one year.
Each subscriber now on the books can
have a year added to his time for $2 50
by renewing now and sending one other
subscriber at same price.
For a dub of four, at $2.50, we will
send a copy of any of theStandard ,mets
or any novel that may be desired '
For a club of six, we wiU semi a hand-
some photograph album.
W^teF^t^bridge^Dictioiiary! 611 ^ *
demaudi C ) 8ame t,me «•