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THE SUNNY SOUTH.
The Country WirlN letter.
BY AN OLD CONTRIBUTOR.
Dear Sis— Here I am tn the city;
Cousin Minnie is kind as can be;
Uncle John calls me “dear little daughter;
And yet, Sis, between you ami me.
I am awfully homesick this morning.
For the little white house by the mill:
The world seems so wide round about me,
Such a wee little corner I fill.
Cousin Minnie has beautiful garments
Awaitfng her wearing. Don’t say
Anything to our dear little mother—
My cashmere is made the wrong way;
And I see aunty looking unhappy
Because it don’t set as it ought
And the cut-away hitches in wearing—
Don’t set like the one Minnie bought.
But don’t breathe a whisper to mother,
Who thinks I am stylishly dressed ;
I’ll try not to care about fashion.
Or whispers: “She came from out west.”
Mr. Austin comes here to see Minnie,
I think he’s her lover. Ah, me!
If he really fancies, and loves her,
How happy that girl ought to be !
I’m afraid of his eyes, blue and steady,
He thinks I am awkward I know.
That’s the reason he stares at me, often.
And makes my hot cheeks redden so.
Well—this is not my world, forever,
What matters it any way, then?
But I want to come home, little sister.
And never leave Willows again.
postscript.
I don’t know, I'm sure, how to tell you,
I’m dazed, and it will not seem true.
But he loves me instead of fair Minnie!
He taiks about roses with dew
On their freshness. He s* ems not to care.
In the least, about beautiful clothes,
He’s going to father to-morrow
To it>k lor a wild eountrv Rose.
Our Portrait Gallery
iii“> mill lti<i"t-;i|>lii<-> of
l>iMliii“'iiisla«"4l ?!.■■■ i.n.l
tVonu'n.
M. JI LEN V i: K \ i:.
There nre few foreign authors more popu
lar in this country than tin- subject <.f our
present notice, whose works, [Missesring ail
the attractions of Defoe, Mnrryat, 3Iayne
Kei.l and Cooper, have io addition a strong
substratum of truth and scientific knowledge,
which compels us almost in spite til’ ourselves
to read them to the end.
31. Jules Verne was born at Nantes, France,
on the 8th of February, 1828, and after re
ceiving a preliminary education in his native
town he went to Paris to study for the bar:
but the attractions of literature proved too
strong for the young student, and the cold
forms and dry realisms of the legal bench
were abandoned for the wilder and more ex
tended flights of roniat ce and of fancy. The
success which has attended his efforts has
fully justified 31. Verne in the choice he then
made. Before had attained his majority h<
had, in conjunction with 31. Carre, written
two single-act comic operas, “ Le Colin 3Iail
laird" and “ Ijes Conipagnons de la Marjo
laine.” His comedy in verse, “ Les Failles
roinpues,” was brought out in IS50 at
the Gynmese, and shortly after
wards another comedy by him, enti
tled “ Onze Jours de Siege,” was j111c on
the stage ai the Vaudeville. About this time
31. Verne hit on the happy idea of presenting
to the public, in a series of fantastic roman
ces and marvelous travels, the results of the
wonderful discoveries said theories of modern
men of science. His firs', attempt in this new
branch of literature, which has made his
name famous among the youth, not only of
his native land, but also of England and
America, was “Cinq Semaines en Ballon;
Vovage de Deeouvertes en Afrique, Redidge
sur les Notes au Doctuer Ferguson,” which
apiiearcd in 1868. This met with such suc
cess, that the author was encouraged to con
tinue working the same rich vein lie had dis
covered. and lie has since produced in rapid
success on a series of quasi-scientific stories
of a similar description. Several of these ap
jieared under the general title of “Voyages
Extraordinaires.” Most of these works have
been translated into English, and largely
circulated in England and tile United States.
But it is not amongst the juvenile population
alone that 31. Verne finds readers. His pro
ductions [kisscss a fascination for the most
staid and wise of our grown-up children.
The following are the names of the works
produced by this prolific author: “A Voyage
to the Centre of the Earth” (I864); “From
the Earth to the Moon” (two parts, I865-69):
“The Engli-h at the North Foie: Adventures
of Captain Hatteros” (second edition, 1*66),
w ith a continuation entitled “The Desert of
Ice;” “The Children of Captain Grant"(IS67);
“Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea”
■IS69)7 “Discoverers of the Earth; a History
of Great Travels and Great Travelers" (third
edition, l*7o); “Around the Moon” (1S72);
“Adventures of Three Russians and Three
Englisiimeii in South Africa” (IS72); “A
Floating City” and the “Blockade Runners"
HN72); “Around the World in Eighty Days"
eighth edition, 1*7,1): "The Fur Country
1*7.41; “DoctorOx;” “TheMysterious Island”
1 i*74)r “The Survivors of the Chancellor”;
“Martin Faz” (1*75): “Michael Strogoll', the
Courier of the Czar” (I8761: “The Child of
the Cavern” (1877); “Dick Sands, the Boy
Captain” (1878). In addition to these works,
31. Verne, in 187’!. composed a comedy in
three acts, entitled “Un Neveu d’Amerique
on les deux Frontignac,” and 1875 a dramatic
version of “Round the World in Eighty
Davs,” which, it, will be remembered, met
with considerable success in London and the
provinces. ^
w liy Kin- Missed Hie Ferryboat.
She was to meet her adored one on the
nine o’clock Oakland boat, says the Sanfran-
eisco AVirs Letter, and it wanted fifteen min
utes of the hour. Her hand was on the door
to go out, when it struck her that she had
forgotten to line her left eye-brow. Rushing
to the glass to rectify this, she discovered a
small red spot, commemorative of a departed
pimple. A dab of lily white settled that i'e-
f, ct, and she was about to make a fresh start,
when a backward glance assured her that
her new hat was not as becoming as it should
Is-. So she Stopped just long enough to give
it a punch over one ear and a “hyke” in the
back. Then her “Rtcanjier locks wanted ar
ranging, and an inch of blonde must lie pin
ned across her nose. Then site parted her
lips to see if her filled tooth showed very
plainly, and that started a most seductive
dimple in one cheek, which suggested a scrap
of black c urt plaster 011 its very verge to
call attention to its dangeis, like a sign board
on a thinly frozen pond. Then she tipped
the glass and stuck in the curling-tongs to
hold it, and walked across the room with her
head over her shoulder to get a back view,
gave her drapery a twitch here and a pat
there tried to see how long a steji she could
take without but sting the tapes, gave herself
a litile shake like a sparrow after a shower,
changed her four buttoned gloves for six.
sprinkled Lubin’s latest on her handkerchief,
stamped her lit le French heels once or twice
10 settle herself, and seizing her parasol in
the most approved style to show the lace to
advantage, started for the ferry, where a
smiling official, either in a fit of admiration
or sarcasm, offered her his glass with which
10 watch the fast receding l*>at, already half
across the buy.
Eminence, Ky., is certainly eminent in
criminal doings. An acquitted murderer
sawed his wife’s throat with a Barlow for
fooling with another chap, She wants but
iltle lier Barlow.
THE MOONSHINERS.
Story of tl»e “Cageil Wilds,” as
Written by tine of Them
■11 Fulton County
.■ail.
Continued.
Well, when I went on my first courting
trip, I rode a steer with a rope bridle, but 1
don’t think the girls thought any less of me
for it, for they looked mighty pleased when
they saw me ride up, though they run back
in the kitclien at once. The old lady came
out, though, and give me a hearty welcome.
She was a hale, stout old body, w ith checks
like apples in winter. She ‘tended to all the
business, for the old man was helpless w ith
the paralysis. Besides the girls there was a
little granddaughter and a litile chap about
five or six years old—big enough to prattle
about and get info lots of mischief. He
seemed to take a liking to me and followed
nte about and went with me to put the ox tn
the pasture. Then he took nte in the orchard,
where the peaches was lieginning to get. ripe,
and carried me round to see the big ones and
the ripe«.lies on the high limbs, w lnle his sisters
iere busy in the kitchen getting supper, j )
’he little man was pretty ‘cute. He said to , <
ing behind the rocks out of the range of the Rusaw, of Louisville, that commanded the
Yankee shells and linlls for some days, and Yanks, said the Rebs run in good time if the/
when at last they come square at us, and our ; didn’t want the liatterj’. Well, some didn’t
colonel ordered our company forward to fire j get away soon enough, and among them was
once and fall back, a good many thought ■ me. The Feds caught me mid John Coffee,
the command could have been liettered by j of Company A, and a man named Gentry,
orderin’ us to fall back without firin.’ And 1 from Texas, and that night and next day
when it come to failin’ back, we did it with 1 they brought in a heap of prisoners. They
a vim, and one rheumaty fellow that had j took us to Nashville, Tennessee, where I was
been hobblin’for a month, beat any rabbit i a the Zollicoffer House, when it broke
you ever saw u-gittin’ over ground. When through and killed two men outright and
loose and bellowed to the mountain echoes
till it seemed the judgment day had come.
The Yankees answered back with lively
shooting, but our shot and shell come too
thick for ’em, and back they scooted and
bothered 11s no more that day. But every
now and then they would come up on the
spurs of the mountain ridges on the Ken
tucky side and sliarpslioot us for hours thr< nigh
the day. The rocky heights being so steep
though the bullets would fall nearly
straight down into the valley that, was full of
our baggage-wagons and our stock and our
sick soldiers. Of the last there was always a
curious increase whenever there was a battle
about, to he. The bullets killed some of otir
horses and wounded several of the sick men.
)n the Tennessee side the mountain went up
The -
me, “Didn’t you come here to see one ot our j nearly straight as a wall with cliffs and
gal’s:” 1 told hint yes, anil he asked me } crevices that nothing but a goat could climb
which I was going to take, and when l told j and jump. Underneath was Murrell’s Cave
him I didn’t know, he said he wished I that you're heard of so much, and some of
wouldn’t take sis Matty, for she was so good | our men slid off over in there and stayed till
to him and daddy, he wanted her left behind, they were mighty nigh starved to death.
That had just the opposite effect the little: At lart though we left the Gap and around ] I met with one good Yankee though, but
man intended it should, tot it made me turn ]n the Tennessee valleys. The Yankees took silled himself, and 1 think it was because
my thoughts more to tijacK-ejeit Matty, 101 possession of our old quarters attd crowed the hard treameiic he had to give us. and
you may count on it when a girl is good to 1
until after the great war of the Rebellion
was over. I tell you they didn’t let us lie
idle We moved and rebuilt all the barracks
m handsome style, we cut ditches, we put in
swill pi)>es and water hydrants, and we built
1 hospital that is an honor to the city. Yes,
sir, we worked hard for our starvation ra
tions. Thousands of us died there of cold
and starvation and disease, and nobfidy cared
a copper cent. But then I know that is the
fate of poor fellows in war times, and that,
we had plenty of such abuses going on in
our Yankee prisons down in Dixie. But I
like to see justice done, and not all the blame
put 011 one side. The North made a power
ful howlin’ over Anderson prison (and it
was bad enough,) but it was the devil calling
the old Scratch black for them to abuse us;
Air our folks were too poor to do any lietter.
When our liest boys were living on cow-pea
bread and blue beef that would stick to a
wall when you flung it there, it oughtn’t
been expected we could feed our prisoners 011
hickeu pie.
Down in Dixie.
BY DULL DARK.
I picked np a Sunny South just now (it
was several weeks old, I lielieve), and there I
read under the caption, “ What a Yankee
says of Georgians,” an extract from a letter
to a Boston paper in which the correspondent
declared he could not find in the Empire State
of the South a hoot, a shirt, a cravat or a
carpet-bag such as he was “accustomed to
wear,’’ and that a prescription written for
him by a Boston doctor could’nt lie put up
or even read by an Augusta (<»a.) druggist.
Poor, dear wanderer from the paradise of
the Hu •! Why didn’t he bring his shirts
and cravats and his carpet-bag along—espe
cially his ctirfiet-bag that he “ was accus
tomed to wear.” And what a pity he hadn’t
got a Boston pill-mixer to put up that com
plicated prescription before he ventured into
this benighted region:
About those few gentlemen in Georgia,
the “ordinary unmistakable gentleman, that
is so rare you can only account for him as tut
accidental presence in the country;” are we
given here to un lerstand that the accidental
presence “of a gentleman in G- orgia” is a
Yankee in plaid clothes, and a sleek
stove-p pe hat hunting round for a traveling
bag! It is to be regretted that no remedy
can lie offered here for this feature of the
dilemma, as it is impossible to sen i a South
ern man North and have him filled with the
ingredients of a gentleman, even though a
Boston doctor should write the prescription,
ititda Boston gentleman should see in person
that it was properly administered. I11 other
words, all the Revolution in the science of
biology can never make a “ Northern gen
tleman” out of a simon pure Southerner
and vice versa. If you doubt it, ask 3Ir.
Darwin, Tyndall, or any of those wi-e old
parties. You might cut off the luxuriant
“ reddish beard” of a Georgia man, unt ingle
his long hair, put a pair of plaid trowsers on
him, a coat of “elegant purchase,” a pair of
women’s long stockings, and a sleek, tall
beaver: put a blue umbrella in one hand and
a carpet-bag in the other, and still he would
lie—a Georgia man!
The fact is, the people of Georgia, being
“so farm the rear of civilization,” they have
some ideas that, are, no doubt, very singular
toourB -ston gentleman of “culehar;” and
one of those ideas is, that it t ikes something
more than clothes of an “elegant purchase,
a clean-shaved face, and closely-cropped h-.iir
to make a “gentleman.” And, as to the “broail
leaf hat, knocked 11)1 in front,” Southern wo
men admire that style very much, because
they think it gives a man a frank and fear-
lessfappearance, as if he had nothing to con
ceal and no sneaking to do, though i>r. Hol
land might call it a “banditti” style, or the
style of “stand and deliver," suggestive of
the inevitable pistol in the hip-pocket. If
Georgians are incorrect in some of tlieir ideas
it is, as 1 have intimated, the fault of their
education, but they keep buoyed tip with the
hope of yet being enlightened by the teach
ings of New England missionaries in the pul
pit and Norther ■ literature, Police Gazette,
Chicago Inter-Ocean, and Lamar’s Sentinel,
for instance. As to our lack of “elegant res
idences,” it should he remembered that the
major part of Esau’s birth right was absorb
ed by his brother Jacob—“up North’’ during
the late unpleasantness and succeeding that
event. Our reconstruction bait some sti iking
features about it. and we all know the Billy
Patterson that was struck.
Since I come to think of it, the failure to
get the two Boston prescriptions tilled in
Georgia, was simply this: Two or three
years ago, it was said, and I believe 1 said it
myself, that the Yankees were foreigners—
they didn’t look, walk, talk, ride, eat. nor
sleep like Southerners, and now Isay they
don’t take physic like us, nor the same kind
of physic, and that is the reason the Boston
doctor’s prescriptions couldn’t be filled in the
State of Georgia.
/
her old pa she’ll be good to her husband.
Presently the old lady called us in to sup
per and I went in and sat down to a mighty
nice supper of ham and eggs, and peach pie
cooked in a big oven, and called pot-pie and
powerful nice, especially' when eat with
good thick cream. I managed to eat pretty
hearty, though one of the girls set opposite
tome. 3Iatty, though, waited on the table,
and mighty sweet and blushing she looked.
1 made up my mind during the meal 1 hat it
was the dark-eyed sister I wanted for a wife,
and I determined to speak right out that
night. But after sitpjier the gills took the
milk piggins and went out to milk the cows
—me following and leaning on the fence and
thinking the milking never would end, for
there was many a cow. But at last it was
over and then we went in but ! thought the
old man would never get done asking me
about the crops at home; and then th • old
woman got after me t > know how many
chickens our folks had raised and telling how
the varmints had made wav with her white
hen and nil her eliieks; but at last I hit on
a contrivance and got the li'tle chap in a
corner under pretence of making hint a corn
stalk fiddle, and when I had one fixed up 1
whispered to hint, “Call your sister 3Iatty
and ask her if it ain’t nice,” and when she
had come and praised the fiddle, 1 told the
little mail to run and show it to his daddy'
and I asked Matty to take a seat by me.
She did so, turning red as a poppy. There
we sat, nearly as mum as trie block stools we
were settin on, till presently it popped into
nty head to say: “Well, Miss Matty, your
ma’am anil my pa have made an ox trade,
and now can’t we, too, strike a trade of an
other sort! Can’t we hitch teams and work
in the same yoke the balance of our lives:”
It was half ail hour before 1 could get her
consent, and I begun to think I must be too
bad-looking to suit such a pretty girl, but at
last she said she’d take me for better or worse,
and 1 knew ‘twas all right, for the mountain
girls ain t deceitful and think it a shame to
flirt.
3\ ell, on the 25th of July, 1*55, I married
Matty Farrow, and a good wife I got. She
was a splendid shaped woman, tall and large,
while I was small and wiry, and hard as a
pine knot. She was the faithfullest creature
and the hardest worker that ever was. She
kept my little log cabin as nice as a pin and
she helped me in the field whenever I got in
a push. She was so cheerful and healthy and
had so much bright life in her that l never
thought ot her dying—not once, and von may
know what a dieadful set-back it was to me
when one day in April I stood by her bed and
saw her die. She left a little one only two
months old, and besides this there were two
others—babies too, the oldest only' three years
old and the other two years. That was the
darkest day of my life, when I sat down in
my little cabin after my dear good voting
wife had lieen buried out of my sight forever
and took my little crying baby in my lap
and gathered the other babies in my arms
and felt they would never know a’mother
and that 1 wastilone in the world and all the
happy days of love and kindness was over.
Web. 1 can’t write aliout it: 1 can’t liear
to think about it yet. Father and m< ther
took the babies home with them, and I went
too, but I was a changed fellow, and 1 took
no delight in hunting, and I worked in a
down-hearted kind of a way, I would have
give up altogether if it hadn’t been for the
babies—but then their lb tie faces and their
childish prattle kept me in such warm remem
brance of my dear wife that 1 don’t know
what would have become of me if the war
haun’t broke out just at that time. 1 volun
teered straightaway in a company, of which
W. C. Walker was captain and \V. B. Nelson
first lieutenant. We left home in June. 1861.
anil went to Ashville, N. C., where we were
organized into a regiment with it. B. Vance,
of Asitville, Buncombe county, for our
colonel. Our company was first in the regi
ment. We went first lo Raleigh, N. C., then
to Greenville, Farrotsville, Morristown, and
last to C’umlierland Gap, where we had our
first taste of gunpowder, months after we
had lieen in camp and on the march. We had
all just lieen “spilin’ for a light,” as the say-
ing is, hut when it come in earnest, we wasn’t
so almighty fierce for it. We had lieen dodg-
like game cocks over it; but occasionally we
give them a lesson. A company of Cherokee
Indians from Cherokee county, N. C., joined
us at Baptist JGap, and give the Yankees a
dreadful shock by killin' and skeipin’ their
pickets. 1 took a hand in a heap of
small skirmishes, and I was at Frankfort
when the bridge was fired, but we got away
from there as quick as we could without hur-
rvin ourselves, and we soon turned up in
Murfreesboro, Tennessee, where we had a
tight as was a fight. We was on the extreme
til f.wVul sights of suffering among us was
too mu 'll for a kind-hearted, honorable man.
So one day, when they went out to mount
guard, he put the muzzle of his gun to his
mouth, touched her off with his foot and
blew the whole top of his head off’.
After the surrender they had what they
called a North Western Soldiers’ Fair. I
bellied them fix it up, and on the 16th of
June, I865, we were discharged from prison,
given transportation to the point of public
mvevance nearest our homes, and three
left, in Gen. Raines’ brigade. The General days’rations. The three days rations wasn't
was a Nashville, Tennessee, man, and de- three good meals, but when we got to Louis-
served a better place, but he did his best ville, Kentucky, the folks, God bless ’em,
where lie was. 1 saw him when he was shot gat e us a noble dinner and three days’ ra-
off his horse. He died like a white man, at tions worth talking about,
the head of his troqis. We made the Yanks 1 got home one Saturday, the 25th of June,
git that time, sure, and after the big fight on and found my babies all alive and well, near-
the first day, I laid in the skermish lilies two ly all my neigliliors absconded, the country'
days and sharp-shot the enemy with their ruined by rogues and raiders, and my old
own guns we had picked up among the dead dad with a heavy' crop in and awful behind
blue boys. : hand with it. So on Monday morning i
After that we feil back to Shelbyville, then went into thU field and took hold of the plow
we were ordered to Mississippi, and went, j handles and tramped along up and down
going through this little burg of Atlanta, the furrows behind the oxen, as I had trani-
our way. I remember we saw a heap of ped behind the poor old flag that was now
loafers there—stout young fellows in store in the dust. Somehow, though, I couldn’t
clothes, the sons of rich iladiiys that were ! feel the same; there was a weight at my
keepin out of the war on one pretence or an- heart heavy tis lead, and 1 was that restless
other, refusing to fight for their niggers, 1 that my folks noticed it, and nty ma’am said
though they said that was mostly what thp that I needed a partner, ami that I ought to
war was for. We didn’t get to Mississippi in look around for a mother for the babies; she
time to get info Vicksburg, so we was sent , was getting too old to worry over them. It
up to Yazoo City where we did some of the 1 made me mad to think of such a thing at
prettiest work in the way of fortifications that first, for the place was full of recollections of
was ever done, 1 reckon. The Yanks would ; my 3Inttie, that was so good and true; but
slip up after us in their gunboats sometimes, j after awhile the notion didn’t seem so ilread-
b>it we had some pieces that wasn't scared of fill, laid the thought of having a home of my
gun boats, and would give’em back better’n own kind somebody to cheer me up become
they sent any day. By this time our blessed I kinder pleasant, and I did look round at the
old Colonel Vance was taken away front us j girl-j: a a sneaking way.
and made into a Brigadier General, amlCapt. 1 ■ r,v - 1 — —a ■
Creessman, of Company B., was our Colonel
—a mighty good man, too, and a useful one,
for whets we were in camps he could
knock up very decent bedsteads attd chairs,
and make rollin pins for our dumplin’ dough
to stive us the trouble of hooking a big ear of
corn from somebody’s crib. Hewasa moun
tain raised man from Yuiicy county, North
Carolina, and hadn’t fought wildcats and
hunted coons and wild turkies for nothing.
He was sharp as an Ingin, and when Vicks
burg fell and the Y'anks thought they had us
in a nice trap, he sareumventeil ’em and took
ns out, safe, through the woods mid by ways.
Oniour way we passed through the little town
of Benton, that the Feilerals hail burnt up a
few days before. The folks were ruined and
homeless, but they had a little provisions hid
away, and tlieir hearts were big and warm.
We was niarchin on powerful short rations
and 1 hey would have us stop and dine with
them. L tell you the women looked like mi-
gels to us tis they flew round fixin dinner.
We hadn’t seen any nice ladies to speak to in
solong. But oh! my, just as me and some
others in homespun clothes and pretty dirty
mid ragged at that, was about to begin our
dinner, up walked some of the officers in fine,
new uniforms, and you ought to seen how
quick our angels Hew away front us to wait
oil the 1 irass hut tn ms. j t hurt pretty bad, but
as 1 told nty comrade it was female human
nature, and he said yes, that was so;
hickory makes the mare go, hut dressiu
makes the gals go.
But good luck to the good folks of Benton,
say 1. V* e were not out of the way
ot the \ auks yet though. We had to dodge
through by ways and trails, and at Chicka-
nuiuga we got into it hot and heavy. First
picket fighting and skirmishing, and then
the general light. \\ hen we were ordered
to make a charge, we were lying
on our stomachs m line of liattle, and
the Yanks were shelling the woods. A hall
struck the man next to me and went clean
through him, anil he never moved, only
dropped his head to the ground dead. It
made a cold chill run over me, but at that
luinnit the order come to charge the bat
tery and we up and at them,the guns playing
on us and the Yankees advancing. We re
pulsed them with heavy loss, but they got
some of us, too. We were in ten steps of the
battery when our men began to to fall back.
They say if we had held on half a minute we
would have taken the whole concern. Gen.
j’ (To lie finished next week. 1
j —
EliiVts ol" III." Tiirkiisli Hath as*
Told by a Fara^rapliei*.
A reporter for the Post, after giving quite
a learned disquisition on the functions of the
skin, with a description of the different stages
through which he passed in Dr. Stainback
Wilson.s famous Turkish bath rooms, i4 Loyd
Street, tells of its effects in his ease thusly:
“A few months ago a Post reporter was
suffering severely from mercurial rheuma
tism. In fact, his condition was such as to
almost prevent his being out and so bad as to
cause him to cease work entirely. Seriously
did lit- contemplate a visit to the Hot Springs,
when, by accident, he was induced to try a
Turkish Bath. At the same time his weight
htul been lieen reduced to 110 pounds. After
taking the first bath he felt much lietter than
he had for weeks previously and by advice
of his physician determined to continue the
“experiment.” At the expiration of one
week, taking a bath daily, he was enabled to
walk without a cane, and at the expiration
of the second week resumed his duties, feel
ing an entire change. Within three weeks
his weight had increased 26 pounds, and all
his friends liegan congratulating him upon
his recovery and return to a healthy condi
tion. The reporter is satisfied that without
the aid of the Baths his condition to-day
would have lieen as bad, if not Worse, than
then. During the time he met a gentleman
who came from Alabama for the purpose of
procuring these liaths in order to remove the
taste he had acquired for morphine. In less
than two weeks he told the writer that he
had nqt the least desire for morphine and
considered the tuste entirely removed.
So much for the Turkish Bath. Beside
this lia'th, the doctor uses, when necessary
electro-magnetic, and other liaths, combined
with medicine, anil the most approved Hy
gienic remedies.
If any of our readers suffer with neural
gia or headache, we would call attention to
Neuralgine, an unfailing remedy for these
troubles. It is endorsed by many of our most
prominent and reliable citizens. All drug
gists keep it. For further information ad
dress Hutchison & Bro., Proprietors, Atlanta,
Georgia.
HOW TO 4>iO rOI IM IXL
■..‘ap Yi iii' Him* Tor the Girls.
Girls know only one quarter as much about
Courting as boys, because they have only one
year in four in which they arc allowed to
practice.
As a matter of course, leap year finds them
poorly prepared to “step in and win,” and
we will give a few hints as to how it should
be done.
First, fix up in style, black your boots
carefully, heels and all, and if the “shine”
don’t come in a hurry, sling the brush across
the floor into the corner, quoting what scrip
ture you happen to know.
’Twill lie a big job to put on your collar and
necktie, and the chances are that there will
be more looking in the glass th 111 in the case
of a fellow coming to see you.
Stroll down to the barber shop and have
the barber “oil up” freely, otherwise all
efforts to grease the wall paper will be fu
tile.
On the way to “his” house, speak to all the
fellows you know; this is a good point, and
the only way to pay him back for flirting
with the girls for three years. ‘
As you near the house, cross the street and
Xiass by it. This will give you a chance to
see if the parlor is lighted, and to surmise if
any other girl is calling.
If, when you step up and pull the doorbell
your heart is not in your mouth, you’ve
struck the wrong house.
Inquire if the young gentlemen are in,
and don’t forget your hat; hang it up on the
piano or the floor, or s-me other place.
Chew cloves assiduously during the call;
otherwise “he” may think you’ve been drink
ing.
If he is a little timid blushing thing, talk
about the weather, his 111a, his pa, and other
distant subjects.
If he [Jays and sings stand up like a little
man and turn the music—we don’t refer to
an orguinette.
He’ll proliably yawn and cover up an im
mense gape with his jeweled hand; but don’t
take the hint.
Playfully turn the gas down; he’ll x>robably
say “Oh you shouldn’t,” but recollect how
he “doused the glim” last year.
You don’t need to say much at this point.
Conversation is apt to be a nuisance at criti
cal junctures.
Previous experience will doubtless suggest
the course of events for the rest of the even-
ing.
When the old. lady calls out “It’s ten
o’clock,” don’t minil it, wait till she calls
eleven and twelve, in fact, stay till you hear
the milkman rattle his cans.
Ask for a match to light your cigar, linger
at the door a half hour longer, make him
think that he is your own and only—and go
and see another fellow the next evening.
PERSONALS.
What the People are Dolag and
Kay ins: Everywhere.
We have had a pleasant call from Idus L
Fielder Esq., of Ozark, Ark., a young lawyer
of great promise who has adopted Arkansas
as his permanent home. He is the son of Col.
Herberts. Fielder of Georgia, and graduat
ed with honor at the Law school of the State
University. He represents the people of
Arkansas as being ia a comfortable condition
financially.
Henry Wattersun has given notice that he
will move in the Kentucky Democratic con
vention that the delegation be instructed to
vote as a unit for Tihlen.
Six young women armed with shot guns,
recently accompanied as many young men
on a rabbit hunt in Georgia.
Professor Nurdenskj aid is a man of middle
height and massive build, with keen blue
eyes and deep lines in his face, and a benevo
lent, cheerful expression, sMglitly shadowed
by fatigue. He will not lecture. Tnottgh
speaking English with fluency, he considers
that he does not speak well enough to under
take such a task. He says lie dislikes giving
lectures, having been so long used to the si
lence of the Arctic seas, and that he is out of
practice in speaking at all. His work on the
voyage of the Vetja will be published in Oc
tober next at Stockholm and will appear at
the same time in English.
The distinguished painters, Alina Tadema
and Mr. Long, are credited with the intro
duction of the necklaces in fashionable use in
London. Mr. Tadema is considered responsi
ble for the amber beads, and Mr. Long for
those “rows on rows” of Egyptian blue,
which now adorn the necks both of the pro
fessors and non-) irofes3ors of the art of
aisthetic dress. When the ainber is worn by
a dark complexion it is always becoming,
and contrasts well; but one rather questions
its suitability when combined with mud-col
ored hair and a pale green dress—a mixture
which is not unfrequently seen.
Kossuth resides at his villa in Collegno, a
village near Turin, where he has lived for
nearly ten years. He is now seventy-eight
years old, but does not look more than sixty.
His time is devoted to astronomy, botany,
and replying to the numerous letters which
he receives from townships anil corporations
in Hungary, in which lie is urged to return
to his country. H" is. however, determined
not to go back unril Hungary is severed from
all connection with Austria, although he
does not ob ject to the same sovereign reign
ing over both countries.
“Am I tired of life !” said a cheerful old
man the other day, in reply to the question.
“Not a bit of it. I remember landing in this
town with a chip hut anil a hickory shirt and
a pair of breeches. I've been way tip and
I’ve been Hat on my back, yet I'd like to be
gin and go it all over again—chip liar, shirt,
breeches and all. Why! Well, you see,
whan you come to the end you don’t know
wliat’s beyond. I'm dead sure of this other
thing: and on the whole this world .just tickles
111a to death.”
3tr. Longfellow has been presented with a
volume containing the names of the eight
hundred children who contributed to pur
chase the chair made of the “spreading chest
nut tree” and presented to him last year.
The book is elegantly bound in morocco,
with a central panel of tweeil calf. Inlaid
011 the inside of the cover is a panel made of
the wood of the chestnut tree, and carved in
illustration of t ie poem, “The Village Black
smith." There are represented the black
smith, the shop, the forge, tree, etc. The lids
of the book are lined with crimson silk atnl
stamped in gilt arc the initials, “H. W. L.,”
and the date of tile presentation.
The Empress Eugenie will leave or ZuUi-
lanil on March 25. accompanied by the 3Iar-
qiii* dll itassano, son of the Due de Bassano.
Sir Evelyn and Lady Wood, and several la
dies, widows of officers slain in the war.
She will remain three days at Cape Town
and then start for Natal, arriving at Durban
toward the end of April. After restingsome
days in the colony the Empress Eugenie will
travel by land to the Valley of Ityotyazi,
the scene of her son’s death. About a fort
night will lie needed for this part of her jour
ney, which will be so arranged that her
Majesty will reach the donga where the
prince fell oa the ill-fated first of June, ami
at the very hour of the struggle and the
death.
I heard a funny story of a little Boston
boy the other day. His father had amused
himself in teaching the bright little fellow
several words and phrases in a number of
languages, so that he had quite a reputation
as a linguist. An Englishman of some note
dined with the family one day, and the child
was much interested in watching him and
listening to his conversation. After dinner
the guest took him on his knee with the re
mark: “I hear you know a great many
languages; tell me how many you know!”
“Oh, I know French and German, and Ital
ian and Spanish, and that is all.” “But you
know English!” “No, I don’t know English,”
he answered with a very xxisilive shake of
the head. “Yes, you do, certainly,” persist
ed the Englishman. “I tell you 1 do not,”
rexilied the child almost impatiently and
very emphatically. “My papa knows Eng
lish, I s’xiose, but I only know two words in
English.” “And what are they!” “’Ouse
and ’orse.”
A Liberal Offer.
The Voltaic Belt Co., of Marshall,
Mich., have such inqilicit confidence in their
Electro-voltaic Belts, Bands, Trusses, and
other appliances, that they offer to send them,
on thirty days’ trial, to all persons suffering
from nervous difficulties, rheumatism, dys-
pepsia, ruptures, etc., etc. By their use cures
are speedily effected, and all sufferers should
send for their illustrated [pamphlet.
r*VT.
George Hoev, the actor, lias "Two Hearts,”
One he [Jays with, the other the girls play
with, lie likes that heartily.
Two Brazilian students in New York want
ed to fight a duel about the actress Nina
Varian. They have been at Variance sever
al weeks.
At the home of Joseph Jefferson, the actor,
at Saddle Brook, Hohokus, N. J., fruits and
vegetables, in and out of season, are grown
in great variety. He is juit now enjoying
strawberries, tomatoes, and new potatoes
raised qt home.
Anna Dickinson cleaned a sidewalk on one
occasion for twenty-five cents which she in
vested in a ticket to hear Wendell Fhillips
lecture. The manager who then had charge
of 3Ir. Phillips paiil her a few years after
ward $4oo a night to lecture.
Miss 3Iaggie 3Iitchell has become tolerably
familiar with the role of “Fanchon,” having
played it aliout four thousand times, begin
ning in New Orleans in February, 18O1.
Minstrel troupes are getting to lie relics of
a by-gone day. They are all “clogged up"
with fanev dancing nowadays, There isn’t
the true Ethiopian flavor about them that
we used to enjoy when Eph Horn run his
“Panama railroad.”
“Daniel Rochat,” Hanlon's new play, was
hissed off the stage of the Theatre Francaise,
last week. It was too “advanced” on the
subject of the relations of the sexes, even for
a Parisian audience.
While a concert and ball were in progress
in the opera house at Deadwood, a few even
ings since, a heavy wind carried the entire
front of the building out into the street.
Supicion points to the man who blowed the
trombone.
The Boston Post says: It is a ressurreetion
of the great dramatist and poet when so gra
cious a creature as 3Iiss Neilson walks the
boards in the character of his various he
roines. Juliet, Viola, Imogen, have been
lately brought before us in the immortal
beauty which belongs to them.
The New Orleans Times is equally enthusi
astic about the divine Adelaide, and says:
“Ravishingly beautiful, unaffected and simple
in manner, with no outward appearance of
art, being the embodiment of art itself, the
charm of Miss Neilson’s acting can scarcely
be described. She must be seen and heard,
and every man, woman and child will want
to see her.”
Miss Neilson, the actress, is a rich woman.
Her fortune, it is said, will lie a quarter of a
million dollars at the end of her present tour,
without reckoning the market value of her
diamonds, which represent, at a jewelers’
prices, $100,000. If she choose to keep on
acting, year in and year out, she could have
a quarter of a million more, so the same
writer asserts, in about three years. The
one hundred and ten [lerforinances given
during the present tour have brought her in
upward of $40,000, and she must give forty
more, beside twenty-eight California repre
sentations, by which she will make $20,000.
Every dollar she earns in the United States
is invested in American securities. The
other day in Buffalo she liought nearly 815,-
000 worth of four per cents, and on the same
day secured by telegraph a $5,000 lot of Erie
seconds. These, with her usual luck—for
Miss Neilson is lucky—rose four per cent,
within ten days after the purchase.
tV