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REGRET.
BY AMELIA V. PURDY.
Remorse is the mental cancer and not less,
Is thy pain, oh Regret!
In August's noon—December's midnight hours,
Thy fiery sting is set,
And bitter memories or sweet, shall make
The heart thro' life to ache.
Tho’ the Jubilates may keep the higher notes,
The low are a Threnody;
The undercurrent runs in waves of sound,
Sad as a winter sea;
And fair things are less fair because of this,
And a fainter flush is on the rose 1 wis.
What Is life worth thus marred ? and still
Tho’ many us would forget.
The dear, dear dead beneath the lilies pale,
On whom our souls were set,
Who would forget the joys of earth although.
Not e'en one crocus, peeped above life s snow .
If sweet the memory and anchored fast,
To the piers of the Never More;
If the fair Argosies that proud hearts built,
Lie, wrecked upon the shore,
Who would forget, tho’ thought allied up h^ 1
O'er the flowers that died, and the hopes of the
summer years ?
Mad all Her Days.
Bj MRS. AMELIA T. PURDY.
CHAPTER II.
He is satisfied that his estimate of the glitter
ing banker is correct, while compelled to ac
knowledge that Horton is a humanitarian in its
noblest sense, for the humblest and poorest
man is courteously received, ana he is foremost
in the ranks of the charitable, and above and
superior to the petty instinct that causes man
to freeze to the fellow creature who labors.
They talk awhile and separate, and Camber, on
the other side of the street, watches Horton,
stopping now to lift up a little ragamuffin who
has slipped on the ice, walking a square out of
his way now, to show a woman, whose bonnet
looks like it was intoxicated, the street she can
not find, and says, with a curl of the lip : ‘It is
so easy to fool this old world of ours, and pleas
ant words yield ten thousand per cent, profit.
That bow to the old cobbler, that pat on the
head of the candy-man’s latest item, that assist
ance to that fac simile of 'Mrs Gummidege’
will win their hearts and they^l bring him
what he is working for—their deposits. He
has not the eyes of an honest man—they are
non-committal, as are always the eyes of the
financial genius. Why one of the coolest bears
in Wall street has no more expression in his
eyes than a fish. It is only your child-natures
that are going around proclaiming every emo
tion through the eyes, but while Croesus is
king, who is going to notice that his eyes deal
in the dead languages, Sancrit or Coptic that
none may read. The mouth that on the poor
man is the sign of idiocy is on Astor or Vander
bilt a large mouth, a capacious mouth, indica
tive of wisdom. Adversity is the aqua fortis
that tells how much of the gold is gold, so,
mod ami, while your ‘guineas ring’ the people
will worship, bat look out for the hail storm of
stones when the dark days set in.’ Salome
hears nothing but praise of the great banker
whom society adores. She sees him and is
struck by the masterful brows and power of the
fine face, and each evening she peeps through
the blinds to see him going home in his unos
tentatious buggy. She watches him one day,
while he assists a poor corner huckster to re
cover his stock that a bad school boy had scat
tered, and sees how he gives her a handful of
nickles to compensate for some candy ruined in
the ooze of the gutter, Laughing gaily at his
novel employment, as some ladies drove by,
and looking so handsome, so like the gentle
men of long-gong by ages, and of a chivalry of
which not a vtbtige remains, that the .impres
sionable guileless girl was won on the spot.
A week later she is at a costume ball, dressed
as a grand dame of the old regime. Her dress
is gold brocade, powdered with tiny white
lilies, the train several yards in length. Her
laces are priceless. Point, creamy with time,
and the powdered hair is rolled back from the
temples, and girt about with pearls the size of
marbles—heirlooms, as were also the laces and
brocade. She seems to have stepped down
from a picture, and no lady of Versailles, ere
Maria Antoinette went to her death, could have
been prouder and fairer than this girl in her
shimmering gold brocade.
Cumber is a corsair by right of his slender
grace and Spanish beauty. His dazzling black
eyes are full of misery, and just now his fabu
lous wealth, his intellect and all things on
earth are as valueless to him as the snow that
whirls through the quiet streets, or the colder
stars that twinkle above. His heart aches
fiercely as Salome goes by with Mr. Horton,
who to-night personates Sir Philip Sidney, and
he sees that she is enthralled, fascinated, the
girl whom he loves as he never loved before,
and the hem of whose garment he does not feel
that he is worthy to touch.
Camber is strictly honorable in bis deal
ings with men, truthful because a stranger to
fear—truth is as much a matter of temperament
as the color of the eyes; and the brave are gen
erally true. A mrn may do a brave act, under
the impulse of excitement, who is not conscious
ly brave, and the difierence between spasmodic
heroism and every-day heroism is the difference
between the shadow and the substance. He is
strictly temperate, generous and kind of heart,
with an old-fashioned reverence for religion,
that causes him to recoil from the profane and
the vulgar, and yet his reputation as a libertine
is notorious, which fault, or) crime, to call
things by their true names, the virtuous in
society, overlooked and beauteous half blown lily
buds, giris whose souls were, in the first sweet
flush of youth, tried with the utmost delicacy
to call back the smiles to that face of the man
who turned from them, one by one, courteously
and coldly, to communo with his bitter
thoughts : ‘ He has taken her in, as he has
duped the men around him,’ he muttered,
glaring down upon them as they moved before
him in the minuet of by-gone generations,
‘and when she finds it out, it will kill her, If
she had but given me her hand, I would have
spared no pains to reach her altitude. She could
have exalted me. He will keep up his domino
till the curtain falls, fearing her, or dare her
and trust to her strong love to hold her, and
if he does the last, he will find that honor is
more to her than life and she will leave him.
Horton ! I do not envy you either way; first
think of being a mounted and armed sentinel
always on guard, and afraid of exposure, to be
weighing every expression and masking every
glance to never know the blessedness of free
dom, and to keep up the deception for years
and years. I would not change places with
you even to win her.' . .
A lady taps him on the arm and says indicat
ing, Horton and Salome. . T
*1 think that will be a match—out of fiction, I
do not know two such perfect characters, they
really ought to have lived in the days of the
Round Table.’ ,
•Yes,’ Camber smiles sardonically, 1 tninK
he would have made a splendid Sir Lancelot,
and if in a little while she could come down
the stream with her bright hair all unbound,
as did ‘Elaine’ and anchor at his feet—dead, it
would be all the better for her.’
•It hurts you that bad,’ the lady replies, bhe
is Mrs. Holmes, a gay frivolous woman and has
known Camber from boyhood—they are the same
age and have been inseparable friends since in
fancy, and she is indignant.
‘Wha$ is the reason you havn’t better s ense
than to want a woman you can’t get?’ .then
sympathetically: ‘The idea of you being set
aside for any man—the girl is an out and out
idiot. She hasn’t the capacity to know dia
mond dust when she sees it; I said Horton was
a perfect character, but so far as I am concerned
I consider dead perfection an intolerable nuis
ance. I wouldn't live in the house with one
unless I was compelled to. That girl would be
happier with you, if you are a sinner and you 11
see it, I declare, Lon, you look like you were
going to set for a picture--your face is as long
as your cane ! Let me introduce you to Grace
Wilmot She is new and fresh and a beauty.
Reckless and daring, and just the sort of a girl
to chase away the blues, Cam.’
He shakes his head.
‘I couldn’t appreciate dash and frivolity to
night. Do you see that girl over yonder in dark
merino ? I think she could administer to a
mind diseased, do you know her ?’
Mrs. Holmes laughs:
‘She is a poor relation of Mrs. Deane s. She
has a small milliner shop in a back street. I
know her as we know people of that class. I
buy the children’s hats there.’
Camber’s keen eyes glance over the belles and
beauties and fix themselves on the poor relation.
She has a powerful face and widely opened, lus
trous, beautiful iron-grey eyes. Faultless straight
black brows and long black lashes. The fore
head is heavy with thought. The mouth is
stern, complexion like a tube rose. Her hair is
swept back from her massive forehead and coil
ed in a huge knot low on her neck. She has
the hazel hair of the poets that is two-thirds
gold and it waves like crepe or the waters of
the sea. The cose is Roman. The tout ensem
ble proud, strong and stern. She is medium
height and very slender, would not weigh over
ninety pounds, and her hands and feet are
daintily small. She is not beautiful, there is a
strength and masculinity about intellectual wo
men, that render the softness and delicacy in-
seperable to beauty, impossible.
‘If she was a man, with that head and faoe,
she would make her mark in the world, and as
a woman she nuust also be great. There’s a big
brain behind that jutting brow. In the good
time coming when you all get your rights, wo
men with her style of face will be our Presidents
and Chief Justices, and we men will vote for
them too, I know I would.’
‘Mrs. Holmes demurs:
‘She’s awfully strong-minded;she’ll make you
so thoroughly out of conceit with yourself in
five minutes that you’ll be ready to crawl into a
mouse hole. I’ll introduce you, but afterwards
I’ll take my exit. She has a horror of butter
flies and I have a horror of bright women.’
She takes him over; as they cross the room he
says:
‘A little quinine after so many sugar plums
will be refreshing.’
‘Oh, you’ll get quinine,’ laughs Mrs. Holmes,
‘and to ad nauseam I’d think.’
‘Miss Deane, allow me to turn over to your
tender mercies, Mr. Leonidas.Camber, literati,
diletanti, ex-physician and philosopher of the
Diogenes school, who is tired of sugar plums,
surfeited with praise and craves quinine, let me
beg of you to give him a heroio dose, if you real
ly think he needs a tonic.’
The keen eyes meet his own laughingly as
Mrs. Holmes floats away. She shows no trepi
dation or embarrassment and her heart flutters
not at all, though she knows that the. catch of the
city is beside her,milliner as.sh'S -is. How her
face lights from eyes to lips, each feature instinct
with life, as she remarks:
‘I have very little time to give you, but you
are welcome to that. I am general supervisor
of the supper and only looked in to see the
dancers.’
‘You are a stranger,’ he replies, ‘even in a city
as large as this, if I had ever met you,. I would
remember it.’
‘You wonld not l,e lik°ly to meet me* «x ?ept
on the street.’ She smiles at his implied com
pliment. ‘I keep a milliner store on Western
Row near Elizabeth. When the “rainy days”
came I essayed teaching, but for certain reasons
abandoned it and took up that which the world
holds less respectable, but which is more remu
nerative. I understand Mrs. Holmes’ nonsense
about quinine. There are men and women to
whom a heroic dose of adversity would be a
God-send. I trust it is not so with you.’
‘I thin kit is,’ he replies with s ring emphasis.
‘I know your life is heroic, and being heroic it
will be contagious. Tell me more about your
self and then I will make you my physician and
let you prescribe.’
‘There is little to tell,’ she returns. ‘I am the
eldest of four children, my father is dead, my
mother is blind and I have a sister, Pearl by
name, aged fourteen, who has never walked, an
other sister, Daisy, aged twelve and a brother,
St. Albert, whom we call Bertie, aged three. I
don’t call my life heroic; I simply do my duty.
Men support such families everywhere and no
one gives it a thought, why shouldn’t I—I am
strong and capable.’
He thrills with very shame as she concludes
and honestly gives her a description of his idle,
frivolous, aimless, sinful life. She listens in
tently then says:
‘I don’t understand sentimental, effortless as
pirations. Why don’t you resolve to be good
and to do good, and go ahead and do it. Tho
change of heart takes place the instant man
sickens of sin, and resolves to amend his life.
If my hand persisted in obeying the dictates of
a thievish instinct, I would go to the yard and
chop it off with the ax. Resolve right now to
be a just steward of the great wealth God has
given you, and seek opportunities to do good.
Many people wait for distress to come to them
to be relieved, and so lose the greatest pleasure
the human heart can experience. Mr. Camber,
if you crawled to-day, walk erect to-morrow, try
to feel that you are exceedingly precious to God
and that some day you will become an inhabi
tant of the city where He reigns, and grieve him
no longer by working evil.’
I suppose you think it will be easy’ he observ
ed ‘What does a young girl know of the tempta
tions that allure men ?’
‘The stronger the foe the (greater the victory,’
she answers.
‘ No, I think it will be a harder battle than
Waterloo. It will require eternal vigilance,
and you must never sleep on duty or the pickets
of the enemy will capture you.'
‘ Hard ! My dear sir, the every day battles of
life surpass in grandeur, the glories of Waterloo,
Austerlitz or Wagram. When I found that my
life of ease and luxury was over, I wanted to
die; I felt perfectly unnerved. To make labor
a success I had to go to work to revolutionize my
self and change habit and thought. It was a
weary work and I made slow progress, but I
succeeded, I trampled false pride under foot
and learned to distinguish betweefi luxuries and
necessaries and learned to be thankful that I
have health and strength to work, I think the
hardest t«sk ever attempted is to reconstruct
self. Long ago, I thought there could be noth
ing harder than German and Latin, but I have
since learned that it is harder to take the best
in you and out of this to construct a new being.’
This girl was a revelation to him, she did not
look eighteen, but a great soul looked down
from the big eyes—a soul that would never falter
or fail, but take on new strength in time of
need.
‘I am needed now,’ she said rising to her feet
‘And onr yonng ladies are even now holding an
indignation meeting because I have monopoliz
ed yon so long. From their expression they think
you are crazy. Mr. Camber I will bid yon good
night’
He detains her with an emphatic ‘wait,’ and
is at a loss to express himself as he desires.
‘You have interested me very much,’ he says,
after a moments thought, ‘may 1 beg that our
acquaintance may continue ? In a thousand
ways you can help and benefit me. I have
friends who laugh at me when I am thoughtful
and joke when I am troubled. Every man
needs the friendship of a God fearing great-heart
ed woman. Let me be a brother to you, there
can be no danger to you; women of your culture
do not wear their hearts in their bands, so there
could be no falling in love on either side, I am
the victim of unrequited affection even now, and
in sore need of a consoler. I have no sisters or
brothers and if you will let me be your friend
it will make me a better man.’
Her eyes falter and droop, aroused lights in
their deaths. ‘I accept your friendship; it has
at least the merit of originality and if lean bene
fit you I shall be proud to do so. To be the
Savior of any soul is a grand distinction. Good
night.’
‘She smiles and vanishes through a side door
and he goes over to his sworn ally.
‘Is she interesting ?‘ Mrs Holmes asks.
‘Very,* he replies ‘shehas the downright earn
estness and energy of Martin Luther. ‘
‘Homely,’ says Mrs Holmes sententiously.
•Homely !’ with stroDg indignation, ‘How can
anyone be homely who has splendid eyes and a
complexion like untrodden snow and wonderful
hair full of imprisoned sunbeams?’
‘Mrs. Browning said the nose was the sun of
the face and the rest of the features were its sat-
elites. Every feature in her face is beautiful
but her nose; I detest a Roman nose on a wo
man’s face, it makes her so masculine; Miss
Dean has a man’s face, you ait bound to ac
knowledge that.’
‘Mrs. Browning wrote nonsense like other
great folks,’ he retorted, ‘and many of her po
ems are splendid, just because she wrote them.
Nose indeed ! Complexion and brows and eyes
make a woman beautiful or the reverse. Till
the intellect is located in the nose that feature
will never rank the eyes and forehead. Think
of Michael Angelo, whose nose was terrible, and
of Socrates who had scarcely any at all. iEsop
too.’
‘Well, nose or no nose, she has low ideas.
Her aunt offered her a luxurious home and
wanted to adopt her. The aunt said her plan
was to put the cripple and the other two in the
Orphan Asylum and put Mrs. Deane in the
Blind Asylum. She felt that Yale would make
a grand match if she had proper advantages.
She is highly accomplished, speaks several lan
guages, sings divinely and is a proficient in
music. Yale refused her kindness, keeps her
family together and works like a slave. She is
only eighteen and ought to have more worldly
wisdom. Why, if she had accepted her aunt’s
offer, in a year, perhaps, she could take all her
folks out of the Asylum and give them a luxuri
ous home. She calls that old, dingy shop a
home and I suppose she’ll marry some illiterate
mechanic, unless the old Southern prejudice to
mechanics clings to her; that may save Her. Her
lather was called a millionaire and after his
death it was discovered that he was insolvent.
She was educated in Paris. I don’t belive in
self-crucifixion; Sir Boyle Roibe was wise when
he said, ‘Wny should we do so much for posteri
ty, what has posterity done for us?’ and I say
the most thankless business anyone can embark
in is starving for people who never do anything
for us. My motto is, look out for number one,
always; why, just look at her, she was plump
when she came here and her form was beautiful.
She is actually skinny now; don’t fall in love
with her, she’ll blow away some windy day.’
‘Have you eDjoyed yourself this evening?’ he
asks, desiring to change the subject. .
‘No’ disconlentedly, ‘Mjss Gordon’s dress
eclipses mine, and I didn’t know such pearls
were ever found outside of royal palaces, and
those flounces are pld Point.’
‘Awful dir jy lace’ sayt-Oi.niVf'tV- Vhatmakfic
you women all like dirty laces/' When I marry I
will not let my wife wear it. I 'see collars now and
then on women that look like ii^y had been pick
ed up out of the gutter—whav fools women are i’
Mrs. Holmes coughs. ‘I Dover knew a wo
man to wear dirty lace, but we all have a weak
ness for laces grown yellow with time. Good
night! Don’t giieve too much for ma belle and
don’t say Miss Gordon’s flounces are dirty where
she can hear you; they cost thousands of dollars. ’
She goes away with her husband who is half
drunk, and slaps him soundly when the carriage
turns homeward, for he has been particularly
trying to-night aDd her temper is none of the
best. Generally he receives his punishment
good naturedly, but to-night he did not want to
go home and so he swears at her in a helpless,
childish way, while she scolds furiously, and yet,
dress being her god she is not miserable, and
while the beauty of her clear-cut face lasts she
will have all the admiration she needs, and with
admiration and dress and money she will not
grieve for the solid joys of life; till beauty dies,
—the clear-cut face becomes a sharp-cut face,
sunken of temples and mouth and cheeks, and
pointed of chin. Th6n as an aged virago she
will be the terror of old and young, shun
ned by the neighbors and tolerated bv the rela
tives who for very shame’s sake can nothhrow her
off. In every town you can put your finger on
a wemen like this. In 6very town there are wo
men, who, as old women will bo utterly abom
inable because they will not cultivate the heart-
grace necessary to make them lovely and lovable
when age rob3 them of beauty. In the time
surely coming to all who live, when if they have
not a pleasant disposition and pleasant speech,
they have nothing in God’s world to recom
mend thorn and are simply a nuisance on the
earth.
The evening of the next day Mr. Camber
walks into the little milliner shop. Val6 re
ceives him cordially and takes him into her
back room, and introduces him first to her
mother—a tall, slender, exceedingly beautiful
woman of fifty, with a profusion of silver curls,
whose brilliant brown eyes look so natural
that it is difficult for him to believe tho soul of
the eyes had departed; theD to a child more like
a seraph than a mortal child. Sh«» is of lilli-
putian propotions and is dressed in white. Her
eyes are large, dreamy and dark as indigo. Her
features are flawless and her hair fails about
her in a glorious shower of curls, the gold that
infants and angels wear, and that no grown wo
man has ever worn. Fashioning ribbon into
bows sits a girl of twelve, a brnnette and royal
ly beautiful. She will be as (imperious as an
empress some day, and she has the masterful
face of the elder sister and her directness and
intellect. Mrs. Dean engages in conversation
and he is charmed; the little girls take part in
the conversation and evince deep cultnre. \ale
now and then puts in her bright head from the
store to say some thing pertinent and witty.
She seems to have quite a run of custom. Little
folks for crotchet needles and tatting shuttles
and skeins of worsted so that she cannot leave
the counter, but on the whole it is a bright visit
and exhilerating as mountainair.
‘A wonderful family,’ he muses, as he turns
his steps homeward. ‘I am glad I have made
their acquaintance; they are refined enough for
the court of St. James, and even the children
are great readers. A specimen, I suppose of
the ‘uncultured brute,’ his lips curled, ‘and I
do not know a family in this city to compare
to them in any respect—poor as they are. ’
He goes again, and Mrs. Deane is out visit
ing at a neighbor’s, and there is no one to en
tertain him but the little cripple Pearl. Vale
is busy in the store with some customers, and
so he sits down and lifts the little girl on his
lap and pillows the innooent head on his breast,
feeling a deep, delicious sense of purity as the
golden curls streamed over his arm, and the
wee faoe, sweet as a flower and white as a pearl,
is lifted smilingly to his. She tells him of their
old fairy home, near New Orleans, of the orange
groves, and the mimic lakras, and of the yearly
trip to Europe, and of mama’s diamonds, and
the gay reunions in the St. Charles hotel, and
the parlor theatricals, and the wild, gaj life
in the wildest and gayest city in the nation—
the Paris of the Republio. Then of the failure
and of her fathers suicide, and her mother’s
blindness through trouble, and stops, for Vale
1 enters to don hat and shawl, after which she
1 takes the market basket and goes to market,
and the child continues the story.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
CLARKSVILLE, GEORGIA.
An Old Resort of Southern No
bility.
As Clarksville is attracting a large number of
visitors regaining the popularity which it form
erly eDjoyed and will always deserve, we feel
that a brief sketch of its history will not be un
interesting.
Unlike the towns that have sprung up on or
adjacent to the Air Line Railroad, and which
have developed a wealth and prosperity rival
ing Western enterprise and advancement,
Clarksville is a very old town and fifty years
ago, though sixty miles had to be traversed by
private conveyance to reach there, it entertain
ed greater crowds than at any period since the
war.
The old village is pretty mnch the same to
day as then; in fact, we believe the same mate
rial composes it, and we remember hearing one
of its ancient admirers remark, that on return
ing to it after an absence of twenty years it seem
ed perfectly familiar even to its ancient piazzas.
But the chief of Clarksville’s former glories, the
wealthy and elegant society, who attracted by
thegloriou climate and scenery of the place,
established their summer homes in its vicinity,
have in great 'measure disappeared, and the
places that knew them so long will know them no
more, until wealth such as they lavished then,
return to bless Southern firesides.
While the Indian tribes were still scattered
through the forests abounding with game and
valleys yielding bountiful harvests, a number
of Montagues and Capulets from the Southern
portions of this State and Carolina were attract
ed by the scenery and fertility of the coimty,
and speedily appropriating extensive meadows
and woodlands, they induced their friends to
do likewise, and so Clarksville represented one
of the most elegant and fastidious circles of so
ciety in the United States.
Hon. Richard W. Habersham, U. S. Senator
from South Carolina, may be regarded as the
pioneer of this Southern Switzerland, and in
honor of him the county was named. Among
other names which are still retained there over
the ruins ot their former homes, are Alstons?
and Mathews, of Charleston,’the Waldbergs,
Clinches, Warings, Johnsons, Kollocks, Owens’
Bei?rins, Laws, Mungeans and"McAllisters, of
Savannah, while Augusta was represented in
her two wealthy and prominent citizens, Robert
Campbell and William Smith.
Ten miles above Clarksville is the celebrated
Nacoochee Valley, and here Maj. Edward Wil
liams established his permanent and hospitable
home. It is one of the greatest pleasures of
memory to trace old landmarks, and we are
glad to learn that Maj. Williams’ children, one
of whom is the distinguished George W. Wil
liams, of Charleston, are still in possession of
nearly the entire valley.
Those mentioned and other families found
in the superior climate and soif of the
plaJo u fine field to ile. o s <p the. * iJoss o'f scen
ery and architecture; and art blending with na
ture, lent all the charms that culture could sug
gest or wealth obtain.
The ladies availed themselves of the bracing
climate and rich vegetation to attain their ideals
of flowers and lawns, and these soon became en
deared to them by the work of their own hands.
But the white and cypress pine, the mountain
laurel and lily, the wild ivies, azalias and ferns
which fiourisn there in natural beauty, surpass
ed all exotics, and were brought from their
wild retreats to adorn the spacious grounds.
Then there was competition among the fair
sex as to who should soonest regain the full
round weight and blooming complexion whieh
recent dissipation as city belles had deprived
them of. Long walks and regular hours and
habits soon dismissed all traces of languor and
fatigue, and a Clarksville equestrienne could
readily be distinguished by the grace and ease
of her horsemanship. Tne gentlemen to dis
pel the idea of perfect indolence, devoted sev
eral hoars of each day to the management of
their farms, and a strong though friendly con
test sprang up, as to whose fields should dis
play the richest harvests and whose farms could
exhibit the finest specimens of horses and cat
tle.
Visitors were always impressed with the vari
ety and adaption of the soil to any production,
and the ingenious designs which some exercis
ed in the arrangement. The bold refreshing
springs which abound here, ggirgled their wa
ters into marble or granite basins and were
walled over with artistib style and beauty.
Such avocations, along with their journals
and correspondence, occupied these lords of
creation during the morning unless called away
for the day on 3ome hunting or fishing excur
sion. That fearful ordeal, a dinner party, it
was a part of their tactics to shun, but some
times a flanking invitation would seat them all
at a dinner table from which they knew there
was no hope of rising for hours, because fash
ion proscribed it and tha knowledge quenched
their appetite and extinguished their ideas.
The male tribe therefore regarded any invi
tation for the morning as an encroachment on
their freedom; but the afternoon, it was under
stood, would be given up to social enjoyment,
for then the different households would sally
forth to meet at some try sting place, from
whence all would proceed together to visit some
of the various points of interest with which the
country abounds. .
The everlasting hills and endless mountain
ranges with their deep gorges and cascades,
furnish excursionists with varied scenery for
seasons, and there were four Meccas at which
wo pilgrims of nature could never cease to wor-
ship with feelings of awe and reverence. Tal
lulah and Toccoa falls, Yonah and Tray moun
tains each some ten miles apart, claimed an
annual visit and all of that old party who sur
vive, recall the days spent there as among the
happiest of their lives. One day’s ramblings
among those hills and glades would effect a
greater friendship between young couples than
formal intercourse of a year in the city.
And thus Clarksville became a great place for
courtships and engagements, and lovers would
frequently delay the question that was to de
cide their fate, until summer, when the city
belle as a country girl had thrown off her for
mality, and also that he might avail himself of
sublimity and romance to convey the desired
impression. Place a young couple in each
other’s society for a day, as we were privileged
to be, surround them with the soenery and
emotions which the country ^affords, added to
the fair one’s dependence on her escort’s
strength and protection, and if a lover fails in
his addresses, we feel safe to assert that either
the unfortunate man was predestined for a
bachelor, or some other marriage was made for
him in heaven.
th ® return from our evening drives we
would all alight at some common home for the
evening, where we would revel in music, theat
ricals and dancing in moderation, for we kept
early hours and this was a dreadfully particular
set of fathers and mothers, and some of these
papas used to think that we ought previously to
obtain promisBion from them, before asking
their daughters to become our wives. Well they
were particular and austere, but always charac
terized by honor and nobility, and it is a mel
ancholy thought that they are all dead now ; all
dead. Only two who mingled with that group
surviye this writing and they are permanent
residents of Clarksville. We allude to the elder
Dr. Phillips and Jarvis Van Buren who though
their faculties for social enjoyment are weaken
ed, still retain that elegance and courtesy of
manner which age or disease can never impair
and which we pilgrims of a fading generation
are so fond of connecting with an age that has
past.
Nearly all visitors to Clarksville are affected by
the soothing drowsy feeling which overpowers
them for the first few days, ‘but which does
not prevent their enjoying perfect repose
through the cool short nights, for their twilight
seems only to end in moonbeams, and the sun
appreciates Claksville and visits it early.
Sitting on the favorite hillside, watching
through the soft, hazy atmosphere, the ever
changing sunshine and shadows on the moun
tains,
“How sweet it were hearing theilownward stream.
With half shut eyes ever to seeni,
Falling asleep in a half dream.”
We consider it easy to acconnt for the stagna
tion which has retarded advance or progress in
Clarksville.
The natives are a self satisfied class of people,
with little or no desire for improvement, und
content to eke out a living from the accommo
dating soil, though placing exorbitant prices on
their places, if called upon to sell.
The wealthy class of people who nsed to as
semble there, did not go to save, but to enjoy
their money, and so it was generally scattered
into the pockets of the rustics, who thus learn
ed in a great measure to look for support, on
what they received during the summer. Then
the farming dpne by these gentlemen was for
pleasure and diversion; the rich harvest abund
antly supplied theirtables during their sojourn,
and their cattle the year round, while on each
one’s farm one or more families were quartered
who received their living at the hands of these
easy, well-to-do landlords as compensation for
watching over their places.
And now, while stating that excellent corn
whisky can be procured very cheaply in this
country, the Clarksville Temperance lodge de
serves mention, for it is th'e same old joke. There
is a prolonged tooting of horns, the temperance
saints rally to be entertained(?) for hours by the
jaw bone of some ass, on the glories of sobriety,
and then—are first next morning in being fined
for a drunken spree. Bacchus is consistent
with his votaries, however; while they worship
him, his spirits keep'up their spirits. But temp
erance must, prevail; the ruling passion proves
strong under arrest. While these advocates are
being escorted to the calaboose they exhort the at
tendant policeman on the folly of a single glass,
and drink from an imaginary bottle toasts to
total abstinence.
We looked with surprise, almost displeasure,
at the crowded hotels o'f Gainsville and Toccoa
City, and marvelled to hear them spoken of as
equal to Clarksville, because in our judgement
none of the new places can compare with the
old resort, either in climate, water or scenery.
When the railroad, now in process of con
struction to Clarksville, is completed, and rea
dy transportation furnished for the products of
the fruitful soil, this section will at once be
come the g r *in and market garden,, and wnen
direct access is gained to this bracing climate
and beautiful scenery, the vicinity will imme
diately resume its old sway as .the great Bum
mer resort.
But it will be long before such another cir
cle assembles as the one gathered together by
those old-time Southern gentlemen. As we
said, they are all dead now; the last few vene
rable landmarks, who lingered as travelers by
the wayside, are gathered to their fathers and
have gone to join the innumerable throng.
And their hospitable mansions closed at the
close of a season, and left, just as they would
have left them for an afternoon’s drive, proved
during the war, rich mines of spoil and plun
der for marauding bands and dishonest villag
ers, who ransacked and then frequently burnt
them.
Well, we are glad that Clarksville is rising.
We would like to see the old place, so dear by
association and deserving by its natural charms,
once more rivalling famous Northern resorts,
and as we sigh over old times,
“How sweet it were
To lend our hearts and spirits wholly
To the influence of mild melancholy;
To muse and brood and live again in memory,
With those old faces of our infancy
Heaped over with a mound of grass.”
Let Girls be Gibes.—One of the crying evils
of the times is the tendency and disposition of
girls to get through girlhood hurriedly and get
into womanhood, or rather into young lady
hood, without waiting to enjoy the beautiful
season of girlhood. Speaking on this point,
Bishop Morris says: ‘Wait patiently, my dear
children, throngh the whole period of your
girlhood. Go not after womanhood; letitcome
to you. Keep out of public view. Cultivate
retirement and modesty. The cares and re
sponsibilities of life will come soon enough.
V/hen they come you will meet them, I trust,
as true women should. But oh ! be not so un
wise as to throw away your girlhood. Rob not
yourselves of this beautiful season, which, wise
ly spent, will brighten all your future life.’
The Train Robbers Captured.
Salt Lake, June 3.—A party of eleven men
from Rawlins, Wyoming, captured the train
robbers and overhauled them forty-five miles
north of St. Mary’s station. There was but lit
tle resistance. The only arms in the possession
of the robbers were revolvers, while their pur
suers were armed with long range rifles. Three
shots only were fired. The robbers at first de
nied their crime; but, influenced by threats
and the application of a rope, one of them con
fessed and pilotted the party to where the
watches and money were concealed. This one
turned States evidence. He says he and one
other came from Cheyenne and the others from
Kansas, where they had lately committed a
bank robbery.
Papal Regrets.
Rome, June 4.— Pope Leo has sent a dispatch
to the emperor of Germany expressing his re
gret at the atrocious attempt on the lifie of his
imperial majesty.
In regard to the socialists, the pope has di
rected Cardinal Franchi to dispatch urgent in
structions to the Catholic clergy of Germany to
use every effort to prevent the spreading of so
cialism, His holiness has had a conference on
the subject with Cardinal Ledoohowski, arch
bishop of Posen, to obtein exact information
respecting the socialist party in Germany.
No man under the rank of colonel can be
eleoted superintendent of a Mississippi Sun-
day-sehool, although now and then a judge slips
through.