Newspaper Page Text
JOHN II. SKAI,S, Editor ana Proprietor.
Win. b. SEALS. Proprietor and Cor. Editor.
MRS. MARY E. BRYAN,(*) Associate Editor
ATLANTA, GEORGIA, SEPT.,20th, .879.
BRILLIANT
Announcement.
The Sunny South for llie Masses,
A GREAT COMBINATION
- OF —
SOUTHERN TALENT.
EVLARUKU TO
Forty-Eight Columns.
We shall soon announce the grand
est newspaper scheme ever before essay
ed in the South. We are contracting
for a series of Sketches and Sermons
from
1st. The Leading Ministers of the South
2d. The most distinguished literati.
3d. The most prominent editors.
4th. The most celebrated Humorists.
5th. The most distinguished politicians.
6th. The most popular Ladies.
8th. The most distinguished doctors.
9th. The most eminent lawyers.
10th. The most distinguished railroad
men.
7th. The most successful farmers.
And in addition to the foregoing we
are arranging with a celebrated pencil
delineator for a series of popular and
characteristic Southern Scenes. This
will be a new and permanent feature of
this paper, and the entire make-up of
the Sunny South will be far in ad
vance of anything ever before attemp
ted in Southern journalism.
Will the Southern people sustain us
in getting up this expensive bill of fare ?
We have struggled nobly against the
financial embarrassments of the past
four years, and now when abundant
prosperity is inviting us forward, we
trust the masses will manifest a lively
appreciation of our efforts to furnish the
South with a family journal of the first
and highest order.
A Sermon to Young Men by Dr. Tnlmage*
We call attention to the impressive sermon
delivered in London to young men by the great
preacher, Dr. Talmage. See the third page.
popsible difficulty in knowing him to be a human
being? Did I imagine it possible for a moment that
he was of the mere brute creation ? Far from it- He
was human and rational and intelligent, and ag
much the child of human parents as a - y child that
has ever been born. Though he could only speak a
word or two of English, he could speak the language
of his tribe; he had a sense of duty, and knew the
difference between right and wrong, betweeu justice,
of which he had a very keen sense, and injustice;
and seemed penetrated with religious ideas, espe
cially with regard to a Divine Being, and future
reward and punishment. That at his age he could
have learnt these things before I saw him from the
whites, or that he had been taught them by my
f rlend, who gave him over to my custody, I do not
think possible ; but I firmly believe this, that he
possessed the traditions of his race, which, when
added to the spontaneous dictates of his natural
faculties and conscience, is sufficient to account for
his possessing—belonging, as he did, to the lowest
race of ail—those especial characteristics which are
found more or less in all mankind, but which are
never to be found in anj, not even in the highest
types oi irrational creatures. Had the Brothers
any difficulty in receiving “Bobby” into the school?
Did it ever enter the heads of his companions to
mistake him for anything but what he was—a little
black boy—in more ways than one more intelligent
and smart than the best amongst them ? And has
he not shown, in his progress in his lessons, that he
has all the faculties and gifts which civilized men
possess? And, on the other hand, who has ever sen
to school a creature which puzzled people as to
whether it was a brute beast ora rational being?”
Stone Mountain and the Sphinx.
BY MARY E. BRYAN.
Man and Ape.—The Archbishop of Sydney
lately delivered a lecture upon Man, in which he
dealt some forcible blows at the modern theory
that teaches the evolvement of man from the mole
cule and mud fish. That man differs from the
brute not in degree merely but in kind with, an in
finite and eternal difference, he thinks is proven by
the fact that no naturalist, no traveler has ever
mistaken a gorilla or a chimpauzee for a human
being, and not one of these animals has ever been
found in the transition stage—the form of passing
from brute to man, a stage which though so slow
and gradual would surely be somewhere percepti
ble. On the other hand the very lowest types of
humanity exhibit in their nature unmistakable
evidences of being distinct from the brute. It is
thought that the most degraded species of human
beings are the Aborigin s of Australia, but even
among these there are found that idea of a super
natural being and of moral duty, which only be
long to the human species and which prove him to
be different absolutely in kind from the brute crea
tion. To 'show that this lowest portion of the hu
man race does possess the qualities with which all
men are endowed, the aichbishop brings forward
his little black protege Bobby, dressed in cassock
and surplice, and introducing him to the audience
says: This little black boy, who is now going through
his studies with the Marist Brothers oi St. Patrick's,
represents the living argument to which I refer.
When I first arrived in this colony, it happened
that a man came tu the Vicar-General’s office, and
asked if he could see me. I had an interview with
him. He told me he was going borne, having been
In the stillness and mellow glow of a September
sunset we stood facing Stone Mountain—that
mighty monolith, which Nature has reared as a
shine for her worshippers in the midst of an other
wise monotonous country.
“How gran 1 it is, lifting its bare forehead to the
sunset.” I said, “I come out here every evening to
let its still immensity calm me and exalt my imag
ination.”
“And yet,” said my friend, “it does not, with all
its vastness and the idea of unique isolation that
hangs around it. impress your imagination as pro
foundly as does the pyramids or as does the Sphinx •
no, not as deeply even as does the picture formed
in your mind by reading of these antique monu
ments. Why is this? The mountain is the direct
work of Nature—of God—the Sphinx and the pyr
amids are the work of man. Is the expression of hu
man thought then greater than the expression of
the thought of God? If not, why are the sphinx or
the pyramids a more impressive and powerful spec
tacle than yonder mountain?”
“I could not tell him then ; but that night, as I
sat crouched among the vine shadows in the porch
that fronted the mountain, bathed in misty moon
light, I thought out the reason why the Sphinx and
the pyramids affect us more deeply than the more
stupendous works of Nature. It is because they are
a higher expression of the true. “Beauty is only a
particular mode of representation of the true,” says
Hegel. The mountain is a representation, but it is
a lifeless and unconscious one. There is uo s„ui of
subtle or lofty meaning in that vast stone bubble
that it might be fancied was blown by the wrathful
sighs of some Titan as he lay imprisoned in the
earth iu the era of its fiery liquescence. The pyra
mids and the Sphinx are conscious utterance of the
divine thought. The otie is an expression of the
Coptic belief in immortality—the belief, that after
three thousand years of wandering on earth in va
rious animal forms, the soul will return to the body
and the body be resurrected. Hence, the pyramids
—the mighty tombs to preserve these bodies for the
wandering souls. The Sphinx was the symbol of
i he oriental idea of mysterious and inexorable Fa
tality—also of resignation to that immutable
Fate. These are the religious conceptions of a van
ished people. There is suol in the stone. These
monuments are uo less the work of the divine
thought than the mountain is. But it is diviue
thought exhibited on a higher plane. It is beauti
fied elev ited by spirit—the spirit of man, which is a
part ol God’s spirit, limited aud cramped by condi"
tions, but struggling always for free utterance.
Thought, among these old Egyptians, found but
vague and shadowy expression. But if it was vague,
it was vast. Had these old Nile dwellers handed
down to us a poem in their hieroglyphics, what a
work of wonder it would have been. Sombre and
vast, grave, yet fascinating in its mystical sug
gestiveness. But the thought of the day was too
vague with all its earuestness and immensity to be
put into words. Stone was its fitting utterance and
so, as stone poems of the past, eternal as the Nile,
the Sphinx stands looking over the desert—supreme
symbol of the Orient—and the pyramids cast their
shadows over the European traveler, who wonders
at the profound religious convictions of a people,
who thought so little of life that all their great
work was done through the urgency of the ever
present idea of death, or under the shadow of a be
lief in Fatality immutable and inexorable as death
The Mind.—Of all the noble works of God, that
ot the human mind has ever been considered the
grandest. It is, however, like all else created, ca
pable of cultivation ; and just in that degree as the
mind is improved and rendered pure, is man fitted
for rational enjoyment and pure happiness. That
person who spends a who’e existence without a re
alization of the great ends for which he was de
signed; without leeling a soaring of the soul above
mere mercenary motives and desires; not knowing
that he is a portion, as it were, of one vast machine,
it which each piece has a part to perform, having
no heart beating in common with those of his fel
low men, uo feelings in which self is not the begin-
C H A R C 0 A L_S K ETCHES.
An Arbor Meeting by Torchlight,
BY MARY' E. BRYAN,
NUMBER II.
I went last night to a revival meeting. It has
been going on ftr weeks in our little berg of Clarks>
ton—a railroad village suddenly sprung up in the
oak forest—Day and night, crowds had filled the
space under the immense bush arbor. They came
on foot, on horseback, in wagons and ox-carts. The
thickly settled neighborhoods poured out their men,
women, children and babies, to the great revival
meeting, and many came on the trains from other
towns and villages. The bright sun smiling aus-,
piciously on the fodder'-pulling season did not les^
sen the attendance; still daily and nightly the altar
had been crowded with mourners; and fresh rein
forcements of p'eachers came to the assistance of
their hoarse and worn out brothers.
A blaze of ruddy light streams through the
shadowy forest as we approach the scene of the re'-
vival meeting. All around the arbor are tall light-
stands, upon which rich pine knots blaze with a
broad, strong flame that defies wind and even rain,
unless the shower is a heavy one.
This ruddy light, streaming far out among the
trees, upon the horses and wagons and men group
ed under them,and upon the faces of the people as»
sembled under the great roof of bushes, gives a
Rembrandt efrect to the picture. Away out in the
woods we see the gleam of another torch and hear
the voice of prayer and praise, and are told it comes
f.iom a grove prayer meeting at which some one
has just been converted. We take a seat at the
left of the pulpit—a low platform with a shelf in
front on which rests the bible and the lamps that
illuminate its pages. In front of the pulpit is an
open space with a row of vacant benches around it,
which is the altar in which the mourners kneel. On
the benches behind this enclosure sit the active spir
its of the meeting. The light from the pine torches
brings out some of their faces strongly. There is
one that might do to sit for the picture of Paul—a
a fine Roman face, fervid, yet self-restrained with
deep set grey eyes, a firm mouth and iron grey
hair. Another, with long, white hair and a ben
evolent smile on his careworn face, suggests the
patriarchal days. Mark the eager interest with
which that seoj. of toil leans forward and listens to
the reading' of the text. The changes of his face
i throughout the meeting are a study, interspersed
among these older members are the young con
verts. How fervently they sing—what enthusiasm
shines from their youthful faces ! Most of them
have honest, commonplace features, tanned by the
winds and suns of their farm life. There is one
olive-skinned, dark-eyed, sensitive face, delicately
featured, except the mouth, which is sensuoue and
pleasure-loving. But from it proceeds a voice of
such rich, full melody that one listens in delight.
What a fortune it would make him if trained for
the opera ! But we mud not th.nk of such a saeri-
ligious thing. Listen rather to the plaintive,plead
ing refrain of that song which swells from so many
throats and dies away so sweetly among the echo
ing woods. Its passionate pathos thrills me, until
suddenly I experience a revulsion of feeling. Sev
eral privileged members had taken seats on the
back edge of the low platform, but there, right up
on the pulpit behind the three tall preachers, stands
a familiar form—that boy of mine—that infant
terrible of five years, with the big head and the
face that is most solemn when he is doing worst
mischief. There he stands in his every day hat
with his Spitz dog, Emma. He is singing as grave
ly as any preacher among them, holding a back
less, cast off hymn book in one hand (he just knows
his letters), while the other dingy paw keeps fast
hold of the string that is about the Spitz’s neck—
the string that he never lets loose, (even when he is
at his meals), except when he goes hunting and
wants Emma to “tree” a rabbit. I try to catch his
eye, and at last succeeding, endeavor by frowns
and shakes of the head to make him come down.
but he only turns his solemn eyes upon me and
sings on imperturbably. A lady near me whispers
consolingly taat “Fritz often sits there since his
Great Britain
Through American Spectacles.
By T. DeWIT TAEMAGE.
We all know something of how England looks on
the upper side, but we ail had a desire to get under
it and look up. 8owe accepted an invitation to
of the arbor. He tells them not to think that their
whispers, their giggling, their coquetries ands
sneers have escaped his eye and ear, much les
those of their insulted God. He pours ou* the vials |
of divine wrath upon them and upon all who are
indifferent or contemptuous to religion. His voice
rises till it rings over the crowd like the trump of
doom that shall sound on that great Last Day which pi un g e i n to one of her coal mines near Sheffield.—
he pictures with all its usual awful imagery, with the ladles of our party we are at the lop of the
The falling of the extinguished stars, the rolling up “Nunnery Colliery.” We have no pleasant antlci-
of the scorched scroll of the skies, the tumbling pations of the descent in the great depths of the
mountains the convulsive throes of the expiring earth. We put on cape and overcoats as protection
earth the heavens opened and the great white front the blackness of the coal Each one Is armed
eaiuu, bio ura e , . with a small lantern. After taking along breath,
throne appearing with the Judge upon l , in case we should not very soon get another oppor-
rified and shrieking sinners, calling on the topp ing tun ity, we step Into what might be called a rough
hills to hide them from His eye. elevator, but which is called “a cage.” We stand in
Leaving this dread pictare stamped on his hear- the centre and throw our arms over a bar an d hold
ers’ imaginations, the preacher changes his tone to j f dS t The sides of the cage are not tightly enclosed,
one of solemn adjuration; of earnest entreaty. His j and the only door at the entrance on either side is
long arms quiver as he stretches them to the crowd the body of the guide, who stands there to keep the
. , . D.wu- r>nt nf passengers in their place in case of panic,
crying, Come, come out of Babylon, come We are to drop six hundred and sixty feet. About
the city of iniquities! Then he tells of his son, his tbe capacity of the machinery to drop us we have
Christian boy who had died a few days before in no< j ou bt, but the question is about the sudden halt
Atlanta, with a hundred witnesses to testify to his al t i ie bottom of the mine,
banpy and triumphant end. Tears pour from his With steam power we are lowered, only one rope
eyes great drops of perspiration stand on his brow; of steel at the top of the cage deciding whether the
J , . ,, „ three of my party and our two guides shall stop at
still his voice peals out over the People and seems s Uor go on to a landing place in
to sway them as the wind sways the grass of a wes- ^ world>
tern prairie. At last comes the final invocation to ,. A11 r j g bt?” asked the men standing on the out
sinners, and then the crowd rises and the tide of side of the cage, with upward inflection of voice,
song swells out, full, fervid, laden with the electric -All right,” answered one ofthe guides, with down-
svmpathy that thrills the breasts of the multitude, ward inflection. We had suggested to an attendant
The ministers leave the pulpit and go out among that we were in no hurry to get to the bottom, and
. r. • „ T-xixxori»r»rr that there were several trains of cars that could
the congregation exhorting, encouraging pleading ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ engagemeati and there _
Sobs and prayers and broken exclamationsare fore we mightas well be dropped a little more de-
heard on every hand. Men, women and children ljberat _ ly , han usua i.
make their way to the altar; some slowly as if But all that bad no effect. The signal given, down
drawn by an irresistible influence against their will; we went. We had the sensation of being parted
some rush forward and fling themselves on their In the region of the waistband. We ha,d fallen from
, . , , , ... , ,, hay mows In boyhood and from apple trees, and
knees with aery for mercy. eir rien s a hftve been swung higher than we wanted to swin g
tives crowd up to pray and talk with them, and for ^ thlg wag a compression of all those disagreeable
an hour there is a tumultuous blending of prayers, feelings intooDe wrench of the ribs from the hip-
, j oKmra if hone We were told it was only a minute, bntit
sobs, groans aud praises, while amid and must have been a minute stretched six hnndred and
all swells the singing that never stops—one song sjxt v feet long.
, . . . . % - Umm nriA Arriving at the bottom we step Into an arched
being taken upas another is ended. y room and stopped a few minutes to get our eyes and
participates in some degree in the amotion. The i un g S used to the darkness and the atmosphere —
mottor of my tab. to tb, ,tr.w 1. tabbing earn*. Th™ on.
sively and does not see that the little one is in lm- the long black corridors. Past us rushed trains of
minent danger of being trodden upon, as feet step cars laden with coal. I urther and further we went
mineut danger or ueiug wu l’ , into the darkness that seemed the more appalling
over him and close to his unconscious breast and as lt par ted at. the touch of our lights. Beams of
e-olden head wood kept up the mofs of coal, while the sides look
s - , , . .. as if af any moment large masses might roll down.
Another forgotten babe crawls away from tne This mine after being worked twelve years, shows
arbor and sitting down under a light-stand, claps no sign of exhaustion. Seven hundred men are
. , ’ _ .. s ..... . .... still plunging their crow-bars aud pick-axes into it.
its hands and utters little cries of delight. This is what does so much to make England
The tumultuous out-pouring of feeling continues, great. This is a chilly world and all nations must
.. ., . .... 5 „ .if... ft, a have coal. The Duke of Norfolk owns these mines,
At midnight the mourners are still at the altar, the but all England feels theadvantage of this incalcu-
prayers still ascending as we gather our scattered ] a ble wealth hidden in the cellars of the earth.
turn homeward, a pale, gibbous I Talking with the miners, they all seem cheerful
We
aud unharmed by the eternal shadows in which so
much of their lives are spent. They pass eight hours
household and
moon lighting our path through the woods. _ _
,11 i »v. »i„™„ tof .I,a tototonto -inot ioff in the mint, and then have sixteen hours out.
walk slowly, the solemn spell of the scene just left v s t,oat, tall miner by the name of Henry Walters
is upon u». I acknowledge in my heart the vitality told us that be had been working iu the mines for-
o,tb.. Christian belief, which in .pit. of the blow. gjJJ. ^ LEl,?", SMTKtK?
dealt it by science and by skeptical philosophy, still baif a century toiling under ground.
«hnws itself as livina- and as Dotent as when nearly But u is a hard life an y how y° u mak e lt. Stand-
shows itself as living ana as potent as wuen neany dQWn bere amid Ule foundations ofthe earth,
two thousand centuries ago, men dwelt in the dark the memories ofeolliery accidents at Blantyre, and
»» of caverns and ca-conrb, and were burnt at KS s r?bfaSnS?*o*?"„ d o d dSK,ard <1
the stake for its sake. will take the stoutest and most resounding blast of
Mon enfant terrible trots on before us with his I ^h-gelfa ^^p^^fato^up the bodies ol the
dog, led by the inevitable string. He has been si- For four shillings a day, which of us would like
lent since we left the arbor; now he turns his sols | this banishment from the sunshine? A sepulchre
emn, important face upon us and says:
“TVe had a bully meetin’ to-night, didn’t we?”
Can I help laughing? And the laugh relieves the
tenseness of overstrained feeling.
The Carolina Excursionists.
[See Engraving on Front Page.]
On Tuesday, the 9th, the Atlanta & Charlotte Air
Line Railroad brought in a special excursion train,
with the merchants of North Carolina, South Caro. I wealth of England out ofthe caverns, so we may
is not Inviting, whether built out of coal or lime
stone. Sitting aud walking all day long in the
light that bathes the streets and fields, or streams
through our windows, do we realize sympathetical
ly how many thousands of men Spend their lives la
the midnight, hewing more miduight from the
sides of the caverns?
But how suggestive that out of these chunks of
darkness that tumble to the miner's feet we secure
warmth and light for our homes, and momentum
for our steamships. The brightest light of this
world we chip out of Its darkness Out of our own
trials we get warmth of sympathy for others. Our
past troubles are the black fuel which we heave into
the furnace of future enterprises. As the miners cut
father joined the church; and he doesn’t misbe
have.”
The singing closes and the sermon begins, It has
reference to the Jews left behind in the land of
their captivity and lamented over by their more
fortunate brothers. The preacher applies the text
to the church and her yearning over those out of
her fold. The discourse is impressive. Metaphors
get a little mixed aud logic somewhat involved, but
the preacher’s earnestness, the evident sincerity of
his yearning love for “sinners,” compensate for
any rhetorical shortcomings. Logic and rhetoric
have little to do with propagating a revival move
ment' It is a matter of the heart rather than the
head. It is more requisite that the revivalist shall
have a keenly sympathetic nature—a magnetic
voice and presence, and a persistent, untiring earn
estness. That young preacher there in the pulpit
with the impassioned eye and the eloquent mouth
is a born revivalist. He inaugurated this meeting
and has been its master spirit, but to-night he is too
utterly worn down to take an active part.
Our preacher to-night is fresh, and his sonorous
voice makes itself heard in spite of the running ac
companiment of crying babies, barking dogs and
ning and’the end, may well be said not to live. His j bra ^ n g muleS '_ l A /" U " g ” al ' behind me ste P_ s
mind is shut in by a moral darkness, and he mere,
ly exists, a blank in the world, and goes to the
tomb with scarcely a regret.
Such beings we have seen and wondered at—won
dered that a mortal endowed with so many noble
qualities, and capable of the highest attainment o f
intellectuality, should slumber on through a world
like ours, in which is everything beautiful aud
very successful in digging for gold in the North of I sublime, to call forth his energies and excite his ad
Queensland. But there was one difficulty in the
way. He had brought down a little black child
from the Gulf of Carpentaria, whose parents had
died, or had been killed. He had brought the child
to Sydney; and, as he thought it would probably
die of cold ii taken to England, he was anxious to
find some one who would be willing to take the
child and keep it, and be kind to it. And, having
heard my name, he made so bold, he said, to ask me
to do this act of charity. I consented on the condi
tion that I should see the boy first, so as to make
sure that he was not a white boy with a black face.
I think the child must then have been about five
or six years old. Here he is before you. Now this
lina and Northeast Georgia, who came to Atlanta at
the invitation of our merchants. Our sister States
were well represented. Our visitors spent Tuesday
and Wednesday in inspecting the city, and returned
at will on Thursday and Friday. The two United
States Military Bands furnished excellent music
during the evenings. Our visitors were delighted
at the commercial activity and continued prosperity
of the Gate City, and expressed themselves warmly
In favor of making this their market. The liberality
ofthe Atlanta & Charlotte Air Line in bringing
them here free of charge was the subject of general
commendation. It is pronounced the best man
aged Road in the Union. It is emphatically the
peoples line. We present a fine view from the
Broad Street Bridge, near the Sunny South Office,
hewoutofthe midnight caverns of misfortune the
brightest treasures of character and usefulness
But we must say good-bye to these underground
workers Wegei Into, the "cage” and prepare for
ascent. The guides warn us that as we near the top
and the speed of the cage is slackened, the sensation
will be somewhat distressing.
Sure enough! W’e get aboard, throw our arms
over the iron bar with a tight hug; tue signal of “all
ready” being given, we fly upward. Coming near
the top at the slackening speed it seems as if the
rope must have broken and that we are dropping
to the bottom of the mine. A few slight “ohs.” and
thedelusiou passes, and wearelnthe sunlight —
Bless God for this heavenly mixturel There’s noth
ing like it. No artifice can successfully imitate it.
You need to spend a few hours deep down in au
English m .ne to appreciate it.
In the contrast, it seems more ms llow, more gold
en, more entrancing. You take off your hats and
bathe in it, Youfeel that the world needs more of
it. Sunshine for the body, sunshine for the mind.
ofthe Union Passenger Depot, on the arrival of sunshine for the soul. Sunshine of earih, sunshine
the train.
Did Denham Kill the ’Gator?
Not Much if Any.
It was the middle of July. A fierce, vindictive
heat fell from the sun upon the land and sea, driv.
ing man and beast to the shade for protection from
the burning, blistering rays.
out from the arbor with the intent to suppress the
latter annoyance and another advises him in a
whisper to tie a rock to the animal’s tail, as a mule
will not bray unless he can elevate that appendage;
a proposition in natural history that I am anxious
to see verified, but who is brave enough to “bell
the cat?”
The lady with the crying baby, after exhausting
miration—a world which affords subjects for exer- ! upon it all the soothing epithets and motions known | and unable to regain his perpendicular, Denham
cising every lively attribute witn which we are j to maternity, takes it to a little distance from the and gun tumbled down on the unsuspecting ’gator,
gifted, and opens a scene of the richest variety to ar b 0 r au d administers
the eye, the mind, and the heart, and of such a di- i Hbl for theories soon subs
versified character that we may uever ° low weary, towards them next, baby is fast asleep, and is ly- ,gatorship flits with indecent haste, and buries his
If, then, you would wish to live, in the true sense of i . ... ’ , . . , _ . in>iv™r™« 'np^ih th^watpre
the term, cultivate the mind, give vent to pure af- : m S a cberub 1Qlts mother’s arms It is j UnhamcrawEtohis gujpulls it out of the mud,
fections and noble feelings, and pen not every a P lu tty child and the fan-, sweet-faced mother has a nd emerges one of the muddiest pieces of human
thought and desire in self. Live more for the good i plentiful brown hair that the baby hands have un- ! flesh that ever mortal eyes looked upon. We greet-
of He ven.
In the words of the old philosopher, “Standout
of my sunshine!” Look here! What do we want any
more of these miners’ lamps? They might as well
be extinguished. Theirfaint flickeris absurdin the
face of the noon-day. Thej were useful to show us
where to tread among the seams of the coal, i'hey
were good to light up the genial faces oi the miners
while we talked to them about their wages and
their families.
Lamps are valuable in amine. But blow them
oat, now that we stand under the chandelier which
at twelve o’clock, at noon, hangs pendent from the
frescoed dome of these blue English heavens so
A utu-ujr OL us were loy .uuugu.g u. u ou me i all the tallow dips of earthly joy will be submerged
dark waters of the &t. Mark river, Florida, ’neath when the Old Belfry ofthe next world strikes twelve
the shade of overhanging oaks, now and then pull- f °r celestial noon. Departure from this world for
ing from its depths the almost transparent gold S°.°d will be only getting out of the hard-work-
perch that swam its waters. ing mine of earthly fatigues into the everlasting
Denham, a fine naturalist, had been on the look- nmrailvfrwf u “'v! stop
out all the morning for an alligator. JFanted a I moralizin e and dro P that ^“tern of the collieries,
specimen. We had not fished many minutes before
we saw a huge saurian, lying in inglorious ease on j The Georgia Gazetter and Business Direct-
a log extending from under a steep bank along a ° _ , - _ “
soft, muddy flat. ory Ready for Subscribers.
Joyfully seizing his trusty double barrel each
well charged with death dealing buckshot, he steps We have received from the publishers, M< ssrs.
ashore. Moving cautiously, he reaches the bank A. E. Sholes & Co., a copy of the Georgia G <zef,l
directly over the ’gator ter and Business Directory, which is iust c m-
w nT’-f 1 f ° rg0t to teU y ° U *° methlng ’ reader ' iag from the press. It is indeed a work of which
Wdl d ° 11 ? ow - ... . ,. . . any individual or firm can well be nrond as it
Denham’s gun was at times an obstinate piece, afu oimnct proua, as it
and like a fickle woman, would play fantastic , , • , ' ® ything of tho least interest
tricks when a fellow was not expecting it. Not I business men. Among the more notable of
^ to business men.
only would she refuse to fire at the right time, but oont ®' a l s of the volume before us is a list of
would kick equal to an experienced mule.
Well knowing her rebounding qualities, he raised
her to his shoulder leaned forward to meet the shot
from the recoil, pulled trigger, the gun missed fire,
of your fellow men, aud iu seeking their happiness
you will promote your own.
Inilnence of Wcmen.-If we wish to know the
political and moral condition of a state, we must
ask what rank women hold in it. Their influence
child had been brought straight down from the f embraces the whole of life. A wife, a mother—two
Gulf of Carpentaria. He came fresh and clean from magical words—comprising the sweetest sources of
his native forest; and would bring with him in his j man’s felicity. Theirs is the reign of beauty, of love,
person the genuine and unadulterated clmracteris- of reason. Always a reign! A man takes counsel
tics of that savage tribe to which he was said to be- I ^ m, his wife; he obeys his mother; he obeys her
long. Here, then, was a living example, exhibiting Jong after she has ceased to live, and the ideas
itself in all its native reality, of the lowest and j which he has received from her become principles i all the thousands of religious movements in the
most savage type of humanity that is extant on the stronger than his passions.—Amie Martin. \ wide Christian world,
earth. And not only a living example, but one in
loosed. The rich flare of the resonant torches
turns the twain into a Madonna and child, pictur
esque enough for canvas.
And when she comes back after awhile, and lays
the baby, wrapped in a shawl, at our feet among
the thick pine straw that carpets the arbor, I think
of the child in the manger—the babe that was laid
in the straw, of a stable, yet whose wonderful
teachings and yet more wonderful life and death
are the foundation of this meeting to-n’ght and of
ed him with shouts of laughter. He would have re-
| turned our untimely mirth in angry words but his
\ mouth was too full of mud to give utterance to his
j pent up rage.
I He declined seeking any more specimens for the
day, and sadly turned homeward for water, soap
and help to rid him of the stinking mud clinging
closely as did the shirt of “Nessus.” O. G. G.
Daring a ‘Pinafore’performance in tbeDaven
(Iowa) Opera House, one evening last week, a
bat datted in and oat among the wings of the
stage, and worried the sisters and the cousins
and the aunts of Sir Joseph, ‘cat scene,’ when
. the lash was cracked the second time, and the
The preacher has dwelt mostly upon the love and j crew cried, ‘Goodness me ! what was that ?’ Dick
the first years of existence, with merely the germs | Some one has concocted a compound to rub | mercy of QqA . aQt SQ tte muus:er who now rises to | Deadeye took up the refrain behind the mast,
singing, ‘Whist! it was that bat !’
Mrs. G. H. Gilbert, the actress, is back from
England.
tary in Its development of body and mind. | aiignting thereon. No w is the millennium ap . j close the sermon. He deals out denunciation. He
is ow, what did I find iu this young specimen of proachin^, when every man can be his own fly- straightens his tall form to its tull height ana points
an Aboriginal Australian? Did I find the smallest j paper.— Wheeling Leader.
his long forefinger at some culprits on the outskirts
twenty-six thousand responsible farmers and
planters, who own and cultivate thrir own lands;
all the lawyers as well as justices ; a thorough
and correct catalogue of counties, with their
seals of justice, and officers from Ordinary to
Coroner, and the judiciary arranged bv circuits
with the presiding Judge, Solicitor-General and
Stenographer, where there is one. Tne three
last items are of great interest as well m use to
lawyers, relying as they may upon their thor
ough correctness. We have not time at this late
hour to give an extended review of the great
work, though it richly deserves all praise but
we predict an enormous sale for the volume as
no Georgian can afford to be without it.
We clip the above from the Augusta Chronicle
and Constitutionalist to endorse every word of i
most fuily and to add that it fills" a demand
which has long been felt in Georgia, and just
such a work should be gotten up for every state.
All the information it co-tains is just such
as every business man desires, and wnen A. E-
Sholes is announced as the author it is a suffi
cient guaranty of its correctness. H„ j s ft aita-
ful, honest and conscientious worker and has a
corps of trained, able, reliable and industrial
assistants. Sholes is the best directory publish
er in the South and is withal agemaVnn i « ,
souled fellow. Order the book without delay
BETINCT PRINT