About The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 8, 1887)
1 THE SUNNY SOUTH, ATLANTA, GA, 8ATURDAY MORNING, JANUARY 8, 1887. KARL, THE MILL-BOY, The Store of a Trial. BY la. B. E. CHAPTER II. took onJl'iglitli for toll, which w for (loin! the work. The farmer Just as the two robbers were becoming in tent upon the investigation of the rat hole a shrill whistle was heard at the doorstep and the voice of their sentinel companion cried out: “Here boys, come quick, yonders a man coming down the road on a mule. He's coming to the mill and you’ll be caught. We must leave in a huiry. Come on.” The two men leaped up as soon as they heard the warning and ran towards the door. One of them turned around and said to Karl: “You think you’ve got off easy this time, but haug your skin, 1 11 have that stuff yet. You can just be on the lookout for me again, I’ll give yan a first rate surprise party afore I’m done.” The three men ran down the steps, seized their horses which were tied to a neighboring bush, and galloped off down the road in an opposite, direction to that in which the custom er was approaching the ml. Karl stood in the floor in the same attitude in which he had been standing all the while. The deliverance from the impending danger had been so rapid and so complete that he was dazed and had not yet realized the extent of his good fortune. He had fully expected to shed the blood of one of the marauders and then to have the other one kill him. 'I he ne cessity for doing so had been so easily and naturally removed that he doubted the evi dence of his sens, s. He ran to the window which commanded a view of the road and saw the men ra.ing their horses in the distance. Every now and th n tin y glanced back of them and Karl thought he could discern on their features expressions of rage and chagrin, and these filled him with fear and dread. 15y this time the customer had reached tin- steps of the mill and was calling for the miller in impatient tones. Karl was aroused from his thonghts by the voice and hastily adjust ing the barrel over the rat hole so that it would not all root, any notice he went to the door and found one of the neighboring farmers had brought suanc grist to tho mid lor grinding. In the abundance of bis gratitude Karl leap ed down from the steps, shook hands with his old friend and said: “Howd’je do, Mr. Simpkins? I am so glad to see you. Ia-t me help you with this bag ot coni. How’s Miss Julia and the baby? And how are the boys getting on’’ ( ome right up in the mill and I will have this groundup for you in no time, Y ou will find us torn up here pretty badly, but 1 have been—ah—hunting for something. You know how a search will scatter tilings.” Under the circumstances we will excuse this little prevarication on the part of our hero, and congratulate him on such an easy exit from a dangerous predicament. Mr. Simpkins walked into the mill and helj>ed Karl lift the corn into the hopper, watched him turn the crank which set the* water onto the wheel, and soon saw the rocks begin to revolve and the corn disappear down the center of the hopper and reappear in line hot meal. Turning around he looked at the scattered condition of things in the mill and remarked up-m it: , . “You seem to have stirred up things miglitly here in that search of yours.” “Yes,” said Karl slowly, for he did newish to falsify,Jnor to evade any further than he thought he ought to, and hefehjrtill somewhat, faint from the excitement through which he had passed. “You see when old papers get lost in a mill there’s no telling where they are and while one is looking, one may as well do it right.” “Seems to »e you have torn up the Hoar in some places and pulled down the piauks ^ in others, rather reckless like. Did >ou find what, vou were looking for?” “No,” said Karl with truthful auction^ ^ ^ was his part put the rest in his sa^k and threw it across his mule and set himself comfortably in front and with a sturdy “see up” totted off down the road. Karl looked after him also, as he did after the robbers, but this time with regret and fear. He was left alone again and night was fast approaching. “It will not do for me to waste any time here,” said In* to himself, “1 must straighten out things a little and prepare for those rascals for l have a strong notion they have not done with this place yet.” He took a broom and brushed all the papers back into the closet .and closed t «e door. He put the heavy bins back into their plaoes and piled the scattered sacks up in one corner where they belonged. He seized the hammer and nails, which the miller never failed to have on hand and drove the lloor planks back into place. At every stroke of the hammer his heart gave a throb and once he went to the window to see if there was anyone in sight. Hut. in the declining twilight nothing could be seen. It was dark and Karl had lighted a short piece of tallow candle when lie came to the worst place of the job. That was what to do with the money in the wall. “I: will not do to move it, and it will not do to let it stay. What then can I do? I reckon I had best nail planks over it to make it more secure,' 1 thus he reasoned with himself. He found three short pieces of board, and these.be nail d securely over the place where the money was hid. Thin he moved a large bin against it and filled it with sacks full of corn, then put down the lid and locked it. “Now if they get into that place they will astonish me. It win take some time anyhow, and I can have help here before they can get away,” Ho closed the windows and bolted them. He locked the door and went out into the night. The moon had risen by this time anl he walk ed rapidly on towards the house of the miller where he was living. “How late you are, Karl,” said kindly Mrs. Brown with a smile, when lit* entered, “we have waited supper for you half an hour. You have been very busy, no doubt, for you look tired and worried. Mary bring Karl a chair.” Mary b.ought the chair and Karl bat down. She brought a low stool for herself *.nd took her place by him and looked up questioningly into her face. “What’s the matter Karl'” said she, “any thing troubling you? You must tell it to me. Any naughty men been to the mill and made you work too hard' You must not work too hard Karl. You might get sick and what would I do then' What have you grouglit me to-night?” She jumped up and searched his pockets, but found nothi ;g, much to her disappoint ment. Under her childish prattle Karl forgot his anxiety and the cloud disappeared from his brow. The miller not appearing the family sat down to supper, which soon over, Karl went up stairs to his bare and cheerless room and threw himself on his bed. He went over the events of the day in his mind. He was sorry to find the miller absent for he would have told him what had occurred during the after noon- From these thoughts, his mind wander ed to his mother, sick and feeble, whom he had not seen for a week, and whom he had left to the care of his young sister and an old servant. He thought of his cheerless lot, sweetened only by gentle Mrs. Brown who W as plain and homely, but kind, and by little Mary, and thus thinking he fell asleep. Scarcely had Karl fallen asleep before the miller came home, undressed himself and went to bed. Late in the night Karl awoke feeling cold. He arose and went to the window and looked out at the expanse of trees and at the mill pond in the distance, gleaming like polished silver in the moon-light. He could hear the water pouring over the mill dam with a dull, continuous roar, and could see the old mill, standing grim and solemn and dark. Shaded with overhanging trees. lie turned irom the window and taking down a heavy black coat, put it on, and took from the drawer an old horse pistol, loaded with with powder .and ball. Making as little noise as posssible, he tipped down stairs, un locked the front door and passed into the yard. The yard dogs set up a howl as he appeared. This awoke the miller who uttered: “Con found those brutes,” and turned over and went back to sleep. The dogs came up and smiffed at K arl and seemed satisfied that all was right. He patted them on the head, spoke to them in a low tone and they wagged their tails and nibbed up against his pants, instinct- I ively recognizing that he meant no harm to I anyo dy. Karl passed out of the gate and crossed the white sandy road which glistened like snow and entered the shady cozer of the trees where he could hardly lie recog lized in the darkness. Here he cautiously walked along in the general direction of the mill. Every now and then he would stop and listen and if any unusual sound struck his ear, his heart would beat violently, and he would clutch his old pistol tightly. As he at length emerged from the wood and went on down the road, a voice from a neigh boring lield called out to him: “Hello! who's that?” Karl recognized John Miller, one of the farm hands, who was coming from a frolic in the neighborhood, and spoke to him kindly as he came up and leaned on the fence. “Where’s yergoin', Karl?” said John. “Oh, I’m just out for a walk. I feel tired after being in a hot mill all day, .and couldn't sleep much to-night, .and wanted some fresh night air.” And Karl passed on. John looked after him as he made his way towards the mill, and shaking his head dubi ously, turned back over the field to his home. Karl having reached his destination hat down on a log in the thick shade of a patch of woods and attentively eyed the mill. It seemed perfectly quiet, and from all appear ances there was no indication of danger. The night had its usual effect in making Karl more timid and fearful than he would be in the day, and tie started violently as a broken twig dropped off the tree and fell by him. He greatly regn tted that he had found no oppor tunity of telling Mr. Brown all that had oc curred, and was on the point of rising and go ing back to the house several times, but he chided himself, allayed his nervousness and gained control of himself. The mill stood out in the moonlight, sober and solemn, and no noise could be heard any where save the splashing of the water over the mill-dam and the occasional dropping of an acorn from the trees, and here we will leave Karl for the present. Three men were walking along the highroad g« ing in the direction of the Sandy Creek mill. They were engaged in talking in low tones, and seemed to be walking as much as possible m the shadows. One could gather from their cautious movements and low tones that they did not wish to be seen or to be overheard. Old Mr. Simpkins was also trudging along the same road, coming from the house of a neighbor, where he had been talking “politics” until a late hour; was going in an opposite di rection so that he would have to pass the men in his coarse. There was a spring of water in the recesses of a rock which was quite over shaded and hidden from the road though very near to it. As Mr. Simpkins reached this spring of water he turned aside and entered the gr« Uo-like formation. Taking off his hat he made an improvised receptacle for holding water, out of the top of it. He had filled it and was drinking slowly, when his ear de tected the sound of low voices and footsteps coming down the road. Not caring to show himself he kept quiet, being perfectly hidden from view. The voices passed near the rock and Mr. Simpkins caught these words in gruff tones: “That ’ere stuff is in the mill, and I’ll be dinged if I ain’t goin’ to git it this very night. There ain’t nobody to hinder nor pester us, an’ we fellers can have our own way. Bob you can ” The voices di**d away into an indistinct murmur and Mr. Simpkins heard no more. Stepping cautiously out from his retreat he discovered the forms of three men moving on in the dim light and he stood watching until a bend in the road concealed them from view. “I would like to know who those fellows are? I’ll bet they are up to some mischief, for men don’t talk Ujat way " J ‘ lor tan,’’ h'e'saui w uiiuseiYa***iie' v tui?!ea oir his heel and trudged homewards. He woke up his wife and related to her what he had heard and sat fora long time loooking into the lire tkjnking over the singular occurranca. That night he slept uneasily. The three men came at last to the bridge that led to the mill. In going over it one of them tripped ou a plank and fell. In so doing he cut his hand on a projecting nail and the blood began to flow. With an oath he tore off a piece of his jacket and bound it around the wound anil later on dropped it stained with blood n ar the mill. Crossing the bridge the party came in view of the mill and halted, only partly concealed by the thin shade of a low tree. They stood and conversed in subdued tones, occasionally pointing to the mill. Their actions were close ly watched by a pair of eyes hardly a hundred yards away, but which were strained to their utmost to observe every movement. After standing thus for a full half hour until Karl thought they sun ly could have no evil de. i ns, the three men left their hilling place and went slowly around the mill. As they dif-appeared on the opposite side Karl breath ed easy and waited. The men went around and felt the windows, but found them closed iglitly. They tried to prize them open, but failed. They then came around the back of the mill in v.ew of Karl again and halted in consulta .ion. Fiom th. ir actions Karl could now readily divine their intentions. They separated and each supplied himself with a stick, long and slim, but, stout. Approaching the windows hey put their sticks between the blind and window sill. Fulling all a, the same time Karl soon heard the fastening give way and saw the window swing open and heard the men give exclamations -»f satisfaction. There was now no difficulty of entering the , mill. The strongest of the three men lifted | the others onto his shoulders, upon which they stood mid reaching toward the window sill, climbed in. Thus, two went inside and one stayed out to watch and give notice of any dauger that might approach. Karl had been a spectator of all that hap- peiied, but felt powerless to prevent it going on. He dared not fire his old pistol, for at best he could only hurt one of the men and might not do that. The noise would reveal his presence and the men would be desperate enough to commit murder to protect them selves. He took out his pistol and looked at it as closely as fie could, and felt it to see that it was all right. He glanced up at the senti nel standing unconscious of being watched and leaning against the side of the house with an air of unconcern, yet of perfect watchful ness. in time most overtake him. The men had bags in their hands and seemed weighed down, so loudly calli for one to remain the other two dropped their loads and flew on the faster. Gradually the distance between them grew less. Karl was fast giving out. His breath came quicker and quicker and the mil lers house was yet several hundred yards off. The men were close behind him. One of them cried: “Stop or I'll kill you,” but this made Karl give one grand spurt which could only last a minute. Within half a dozen rods of the gate he dropped in theiroad breathless, and the two pursuers closed down on him. To gag him and lead him back to the mill with blows and curses was the work of a few min utes. Thi re they found the other man si ting on top of the sacks into which they had put the gold and si ver—the hard earned money of Miller Brown for many a weary year. The men panting from exertion forced Karl on the ground and bound him hand and foot. The gag in his mouth prevented his breathing freely and he nearly suffocated, but they would not remove it. One of the men watched him closely with malicious eyes, and the other two went off in the direction of the mill. After a few minutes Karl saw the sparkle of light gleam through the bushes and a flash of flame rush up toward the sky. God in heaven, 4 ’ cried he in an agonized voice, “they have set fire to the mill.” [to be continued.] My Sabbath-School Teacher, W. F. S. [by “j. t.*'] I. Tl e Sabbath day has come again— The pillow of i he week t'weet day Of rest. 1 hail thee with dcliaht! For now to SabbHth-schiMil 111 go And learn of Truth from Slaton s month, Mi ho proudly stands (and tnmd he well May be for such a cause), teaching Every habhath morn; and, too. His v< ice is heaid in afternoon, Explaining this, expounding that, And mov<*s across from Genesis To look upon the truths of G«>d Unveiled in John's Apocalipse Aba- k again - a play of words As if up< u some instrument And from high-sounding keys of John To baritones o< PentHteu- fa in thrilling tones, without extreme, Audever keeps (In golden mean.’’ II. 0, Slaton, I sm glad that thou Doth stand with tieacon light of Truth, *nd oint with warning hand ahead Wh> re breakers are- where Error hath A hiding place to catch her prey. 1 love o see that steady eye. Single to tby Master’s esuse, for Were it not for thee who knows where I might stray? *’*n perchance into Some snare of infidelity. And this frail, trembling boit of life Ik* r ash’d against a “stone” and lost. 1. ut. ah! thou teachest that th« re is A life b yond the mystic veil— TJnlik® La Place, who vainly swep The Marry fi-.ds with feleeeope— A gilded life of l«.v*- where Light Forever ;s--where all is cheer. III. O can it be there is a i lace. Not s*»en bin thro’ the eye of faith— Tr.o Ceuter of Intelligence. And where good news is heard from earth Of eim eis turning unto Truth, No harps of music silent hang. Nor voice too weak to join the song Nor crystal drops from eyelids flow. Hilt tears are gently wited away. Ami where the corr dors adorn’d With picturesgiand from Master hand? <) can it be there is a home Where effervescent fou- tains free. Where loved ones wait for you and me, No clash of sentimental hearts. Nor Disappointment's chilling thrill, N't Time with stealthy touch doth u.ar With etching pen the f-ce we love Nor Storm with deathly pinions sweep. Nor Darkness brood nor tremblings felt? Then I will live with Faith’s true eye And sail ui on the wings of Hope ! It matters not if near or far^ Be this encugh * the gate's ajar.” IV. Hark!- a call—the invitation : Ho. ye that thirst th«*-e waters drink; '•'he Hpirit and the Bride say come. Ho. to the wa ers free who will; ('ome quench thy thirst, nor thirst again. The **Morning Star” is Light for all— ’Tib He who makes the heav'nly call fcjo free for all—even so. Amen. TO A Nb INSANITY. [P*M. •..Arcluxn-aA CHAT I had selected many valued ideas from treasured authors for a New Year’s chat, but by the same unavoidable accident that de prives this department of many excellent let ters th*is week, my would-be chat par excellence is omitted. The year has gone and what has it brought to us? What has it taken from us f Some of us hardly note the change* of tAe past twelve- month. Some have had them graven upon their souls as with hot iron—never, never to be forgotten! There are more furrows on many a brow— gray hairs braided into tresses innocent of them a year ago—a little ache which must not be told, a little secret folded away, perhaps with some short letter, or a revered 'curl, or a pic tured face—even where no outward change is seen, and there have been deaths and births, and marriages innumerable. This little thing that makes a home happy was not, last New Year's day. That face that reeled us with smiles, smiles no longer; that hand that clasped ours so warmly a few months ago, greets us now no more; we can not but in dreams follow where it lias flown, until the dusky boatman calls for us and we in our turn cross the mystic river! And there are happier changes. Love has come to some this year; Lo -e, without whom life can but be a desert. Life is all covleur de —a face no better than other faces—a voice wee ter than other voices, save in Love's sunlight, have turned earth to Heaven. You have gained friends, perhaps, and if friendship is true, it is a good thing; and you have lands you bad not twelve m >nths ago; you hear that your grand venture has pros pered; to many some blessing, for after all, the world is full of them. Fill the glasses with ambrosial nectar and let us pledge each other. May the present year br'ng to us all plenty of friends and no foes, plenty of bridals and no divorces, full purses and merry hearts, and health and wisdom—wisdom from above, cour age, hope, grace and good will, .and such let ters as have never before been received, and we will be in no hurry for the millenium. Mother Hubbard. Thanksgiving Greeting I am glad to greet you good Mother Hub bard. I know you are kind if you sustain the reputation of your name. Many was the time in my childhood I read in Mother Goose: “Old Mother Hubbard Went to the cupboaid To get her dog a bone, Powell on the Causes of Insanity. By and by Karl saw the flash of a lantern inside the mill ond heard the sound of moving bins. Then the noise, of a cautious ripping of planks. Soon after one of the robbers came to the edge of the window and called out in a voice too loud to be prudent. “Jiai, come up, we have found it, and just where I told you it was, behind that .at hole.” Jim gave a grunt of delight and jumped with alacrity iuto the window. His compan ion caught him by the hand and pulled him up and all three were in the mill. Karl saw them pull the blind together and could discern the light of a lantern shining through the cracks. His heart sank within l.iin as he thought of what was going on and yet he felt that it was throwing away his life to rush upon desperate men. While he was deliberat ing with himself what was best to be done. 1 he lantern was extinguished, the blind was thrown open and the head of one of the men appeared at the window. Desperately, but imprudently Kurl raised hi*pistert and fired with aloud report. The mari leaped ba;k with an oath, and the others uttered exclamations of astonishment. It did not take them long to recover themselves and soon all three jumped from the window, none of them being hurt and rushed toward the spot from which the report had come. Karl, friglitened out of his wits, dropped his pistol and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He leaped over the branch and dived into a thicket of undergrowth. Laying close to the ground as he ran he endeavored to avoid his pursuers. But the sound of the crackling leaves and broken twigs betrayed his presence, and the men came in hot iiersuit, guided by the noise of the fugitive. Karl had a good start on them and soon gained the open road. He was a good runner and now hear gave him wings. His hat flew to one side, but no thought of stopping to regain it. His coat he discarded in an instant and dropped into the road. The men emerged from the wood and saw him floing down tlie road and they bent themselves to the task of capture. The fleetest of them gradually gained on him and Dr. T. O. Powell’s report of the Lunatic Asylum of Georgia, is a remarkable docu ment. Dr. Powell assert;; that there has been a slight increase of insanity among the white people of Georgia, but that several important factors must be considered at the same time. Before the war mar.y families were able to take tare of the limitless lunatics among them. This is not the case, to the same degree, now. The Legislative act making the Asylum free to all bona tide citizens of Georgia has helped swell the list of inmates. Before the war, numerous persons were able to send their insane relatives and friends to institutions outside the State. This is not the case now, as a rule. Hospital treatment in these times lias be come so approximately perfect and conserva tive that many persons are sent to institutions who, under, old prejudices or conditious, would have been kept at home. The removal from the m nds of many per sons that insanity was a disgrace, when treat ed in an asylum, has also caused the apparent increase of patients. Physicians are likewise more inclined than formerly to advise the removal of insane per sons from their homes to the asylum. Quite a number of insane individuals, who were once tolerated and kept at large, on the supposition that they were simply cranks or oddities, are now put under restraint. Wherefore Dr. Powell concludes that insan ity among the white of Georgia has not actual ly increased, in proportion to population, dur ing the past twenty years, or the increase has been very little. The causes of insanity are suggested by Dr. Powell. They are numerous. The largest percentage of patients had a hereditary ten dency to madness. Next came those who complained of ill-health. Next came the vic tims of alcohol. Next came the epileptic. A very considerable number of women had been afflicted with diseases incident to their sex. There was but one case of an overtaxed intel lect. Certain youthful bad habits had brought woe to their victims. Kiligious excitement stood well up in the list. Farmers, housewives and laborers headed tin; list, oy a very great percentage. Mer chants, stone-cutters, teachers and cooks come next in order, but a long way behind. Not an insane editor was recorded among nearly forty kinds of occupations or professions. Dr. Powell, like Dr. Eugene Foster, con demns the wilful transmission of defective or ganism as the predisposition to insanity. Pro fessor Maudsley, on the other hand, shows that often one unhappy member of a family is the martyr, draining away insanity from the rest, and producing uncommon intellect and even genius of the sanest character. Professor Maudsley also ascribes much of the insanity of the day to too practical parents starving the imaginations of the young. Dr. Powell and I)r. Foster may have noticed these facts, but did not, we believe, touch upon them. Alcoholism is argued out as the chief trans mitter or producer of insanity, especially when both parents are intemperate. It the children of such parents escape absolute madness, they frequently become morbid, epileptic or moral ly depraved. Dr. Powell summons tremendous evidence to prove his point that about seventy-five per cent. of the insanity of the world comes di rectly or indirectly from alcoholic abuse. Violations of the laws of health, productive of a low nervous condit on and insomnia, are also potent factors in mental alienation. A very interesting portion of Dr. Howell's report is a disemsion of the outbreak of insan ity among the negroes of Georgia. In 1800 there were only 44 insane blacks. There were 411 in 1880. Dr. Howell attributes this outburst of lunacy to the removal of all healthful restraints that obtained in slavery. Alcohol and sensuality are chiefly to blame. The suicidal tendency is not uncommon now among the negro insane. It was not known up to 1882. The Doctor thinks that a curious evolution of the mad negro will be a development of all the idiosyn crasies of the white insane. We have been able, at this time, simply to glance at the more salient features of this val uable and interesting document. And so her .t .j fyrSi Then its I reau'.'/^jL.,, baker’s to buy him brifijfluL and tinding him dead, t rs for a coffin, and coming home, to find nun laughing, I was inspired with a kind of love for the good old dame, and my interest in creased as I read of iter taking a clean dislt to get him some tripe, and returning, to find this upstart puppy smoking a pipe. Then when she had bought him a pair of new shoes, I laughed outright to think of doggy reading the news. The entire poem (?) portrayed the goodness of the dame and tlie petted nature of the dog. Even at the close when— “Tint dame made a court’sy, Tlie dog made a bow. The dame said, ‘your servant,’ The dog said, ‘how, wow.’ ’’ Tlie dame’s nature continued, so Mother Hubbard, hoping to find in you tlie same kind ly dame, I send in my thanksgiving greeting to Household for former courtesy ami favors. Let me say to Household and my many friends, that if I have been missed I have an excuse. There has been a wedding at our house and pen has been thrown aside for a long time, insomuch that I have spent or am spending this entire day in trying to make up for lost time. You who have written me such pleasant letters, please forgive my Beemiug neglect. I would he delighted to have you all write often to me, and I love to write to my friends, hut time is what I net d. Being now housekeeper, I find very little or no real leis ure for a duty stares me in the face at every turn, and I frnr I am neglecting sumo now. Yes, the old bl'nd rooster which is shut up to keep tlie others from fighting him, must he fed. There! the children are home from school. The two Belts can feed the blind rooster and I will finish this letter before supper. Thank you, Veritas, for your generous words relating to “A Mother’s Influence.’' Your letter brought me ill an order for several books, and the kindest letter from a dear cous in I had not seen in several years. When that letter reached me I was blue. The “Sunny” had stopped coming and I concluded it was tired of my effusions, and as it was to turn over a new leaf in putting on a new dress, that it wanted to get rid of so many would-be writers. I watched for it for three weeks and as it made no appearance I just wrote a note and inclosed a blue postal note for S2; since then it comes regularly, but I received my missing papers. Somebody had been kind enough to ask at the i’. O. for my mail and then had been so charmed with tlie papers as to forget to send them to the owner. Toclah, you were good to mention my name in such high favor, but since Mother Hubbard is so good, there is no need for 6uch a step as you propose. Men a Uktni it. Texas Fairs. Dear Mother lluhli<ird: Many pleasures may this morrow bring you, is the wislt of one who will enjoy iter 1'banksgiving turkey in the •Jueeti t’iiy of the Lone Star State. What a thriving,busy town ours is, one that show, thrift and energy; enterprise and wealth, and tlie last census gives us thirty-live thousand inhabitants. Knowing curiosity to be one of woman, greatest faults, I hasten to name Dallas, and tell you something of her two fairs held during the early days of this month. < tne was called the Texas State Fair, the other, the Dallas Sta.e Fair and Exposition. The first lasted only six days. The grounds were on a beautiful rolling prairie abiut two miles from the city, and toe view from the Grand Stand was magnificent. The race course was splendid and eaclt day witnessed some of the finest stuck of tlie South and West trying their speed on it. Tlie number of fine racers and trotters tilling tlie stables was great, and among them was tlie far famed “Lady de Jarnette,” noted for beauty and speed. Jersey, Durham, Hereford, Polled Angurs, etc, cattle were placed side by side and their beauty and qualities caused many to pause and admire. The poultry display surpassed in beauty anc varieties anything of the kind I ever saw. White Black and Buff Cochins, Plymouth Rocks, Black .lavas and Si ver Gray Dorkings, mighty in stature were near cages containing the spotless white and tiny Bantams. Pigeons of endless varieties next demanded administration. The display of machinery was large and daily the crowd stopped to watch; the busy wheels nr hear the agent explain the beauty of his reaper and how fit his plough was for the black waxy land of Texas; hut 1 wa. anx ious to reach tlie Exposition building where the ladies work was displayed. The building was rpiite large and the “I-a lies Dep’t” con tained many articles of meritjard beauty. After spending a day at the Texas State Fair, I went 11 the Dallas State fair anil Exposition and it far exceeded my most sanguine expect ations both in the magnitude of the undertak ing and number in attendance. Crowds gath ered from all parts of our large State, many from Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas and Louis iana helped to roll |tlie vast assembly of pei- sons to thirty thousand on several days. The smallest number in attendance was the day before tlie close, then there were twelve thous and present. The grounds were beautiful, the race course equal to any in the South; the grand stand, with a seating capacity of seven thousand; stables for hundreds of horses and cattle; Agricultural Ilali, immense in its proportions; Exposition Building, a splendid structure, adorned with a turret at each cor ner from which gracefully floated tho “Stars and Stripes,” and Horticultural Hall a long rambling building came in view as you entered the gates. Gravelled walks connected each building and flowers delicate and tender grew by the side of the lofty Mexican Cactus. So brightly shown the sun, so green was the grass and so merrily sang the birds that Some of the dirt brought from Charleston since the earthquake was handled with curiosity and awe. * Too numerous to mention are the other attractions, but as we will have a fair next »ear when autumn comes again, come and see what a hearty welcome will be extended ysu bythe ’ Whiter. Dallas, Tex., Old Fashioned Love vs Platonic Love. Now, “Nixy” what did I say about platonic love? I have re-read that letter, which you must have read before the printer got his bands on it, and, for the life of me I can’t see uiything in it to call forth such a wool. There is certainly nothing Platonic abiut one true wo nan’s love for another. I don’t like that term, anytr w. I don’t exactly know what it is intended to mean. And I suppose it is hardly worth while for me to remind the Household that I only love to handle words or terms which by their plainness and most un mistakable definiteness, give me assurance that they will not turn around and show me a mad face when I least expect it. Words some times play us such tricks as that—cut us as sharply as that sword which Mr. Biowning some where describes. Don’t you remember, Nixy,—that “friend’s sword upon whose blade we trace the friendly name while the steel cuts?” Mr, Browning says it in a better way; but that’s the idea. Platonic love may be very satisfactory to those who understand it; I suppose it is. But I am not among that number. Moreover, I must plead guilty to very old fashioned ideas about love. And, in spite of Nixy, 1 must confess that I have great faith in humanity in the aggregate, in this respect. Human nature is a very old fashioned and consistent thing. It may change in its phases; but J doubt if the change goes deeper than that. And I think ih“ same heart which, in the Patriarch’s breast heat strongly and loyally through fourteen years of pitience and de errtd hopes still beats to day in tlie hrtast of some of us. 1 do not hesitate to declare my faiih in that divinely given emotion which catches up in a match less diapason all the chords of the soul, inten sifying each. Love dignifies friendship and dee; e IS it, teaching it all its lessons of for bearance and watchful considera ion; Love spreads its white radiance over the soul’s warmest impulses, and transforms them into a holy temple where-in home s mice, and home- worship become earthly symbol of that dear Home whither the Master hath already pre ceded us. Love,—I speak quite plainly,—the old fashioned God-given love ol man for wom an, of husband for wife, is as beautiful and as perfect a reality t > day as it was in Eden when ihe new creation looked in loving wonder upon the unhappy pair who, hand in hand, went tearfully io endure the curse with heart break ing but complete mutuality. It is fashionable to profess a sort of mirth ful skepticism on this point. There is mock ery in the mirth, and certainly there is wick edness in the skepticism. I wish I could do something towards helping to turn back this t de. Is there noth n ; to be said, or to be done which may percnance, awaken our young people to the danger of these half cynical doubts. But 1 do not want to preach, .lust let me say, as a finale upon this point; Doubt Is the most insidious of all mental or moral diseases. It may fix itself upon you in the form of a jest, and where it fastens, it thrives. When I read that part of Nixy’s letter which refers to Balzac, I was reminded of a sentence which struck me with unusual force when I read his “Eugenie Gamlet,” some time ago: “God will recognize His angels by the inflex ion of their voices and by their secret sighs.” Have any of tlie Household t ver observed the individuality of voices? Sometimes I am tempted to declare that voice is a revelation of character. You may control your face, and to some extent you may even control your voice, I admit. But there are times (and the times are many) when a tone, an inflexion, a ca dence, will reveal all hidden mysteries. The voice is a marvellous truth-teller. Be it never so carefully tr lined to that, subtle, wordless lying which speaks in guarded tones, it will nevertheless coquette with sincerity and will betray its feigning. What we think, will more surely make itself felt in the voice, than it will make itself seen in the face. 1 have a friend who says he will give anybody jutt fifteen minutes to reveal some hint of their i.’te char acter in an unguarded facial expression.. ,My doubts are with him on this point: but man say almost as much for any voice I ever heapl. But what (lid I want to say about De Balzac? Hu I’m LminlliA I AMONG THE “Lst i i take time tor lore and its delight. It fs the o'e sweet thing that pay* for all The bitterness of life for sorrow* blight. For pains despair, and deaths fnnerai I a !• In that lust era when the world was new. Love was men’s first pursuit and life’s excuse Now has that tin e come back to me and a on; Why should we seek for more ? Wha* is U e use?* “Well, I hope you have all enjoyed you* holidays as much as I have mine, and are now prepared to begin the New Year right. The majority of 11s weak mortals cannit live with out loving, for “he knows not life who knows not that*” and I take pleasure in presenting below a charming list of sweethearts for all. They are in earnest for they have paid for their ads. We hold a long letter and photograph for Bluegrass, of Trinton, Ky. Won’t she send us her address. All who send in advertisements must enclose the fees with them, as they will otherwise be consigned to the waste basket. We charge only 10 cents per line, eight >r-trd$ constitute a line, Dont fail to put letters to be forwarded in blank stamped envelopes and enclose them to Madge Melvale. A gentleman who occupies a prominent and lucrative position under one of the largest cor porations in the South-West desires a wife. His age is 21, height 5 feet 0 inches, with well proportioned figure. Has enough good looks and a sufficient number of accomplishmf nts to suit a woman who does not deem beauty in a man the first essential and accomplishments preferable to sound sense. Disposition is an even one—in other respect* he is up to the av erage. Lady must not lie over 23 years <4 age— weigh over one hundred and thirty pounds or be taller than the writer. As to other points in her character and make-up will wish the fu ture to reveal. Frank L'American. A widow with children (all good ones) wishes a correspondent, and possibly a bus band. Would like to hear from some good man who loves children. Will only say, sho i-S between 30 and 35 years old, weighs 10(5 pounds, has a cheerful disposition and knows how to make a little go a longways.” She would like to hear from Hu <tler. Address, care Sunny South, Edna. I am a widower, yet on the sunny side of 40 with two children, affectionate and well be haved, but need the love and guiding hand of a mother. I am called good looking, light hair, dark gray eyes, fair complexion, 5 feet six inches. I am not rich but own a geo 1 com fortable home in my county town. A lady who would suit me must not be over 30; a Christian woman who loves home. She must possess some property or means* in her own right. I am the holder of two offices—one of my commissions is from the Governor of this State, and one from the United States govern ment. l'hotographs and references exchang ed. St. Clair. “Sweetgum and Mullen,” a handsome and facinating diummer who can support a wife as well as a mustache wants to hear from all the girls. Money no object, his dearest wish, being “some one to love him, one to caress.” Address care Sunny South. Look out there! For I am coming, plunging head-long in to the thronging crowd of “Lover Seekers,” and I want a sweetheart, and I want one bad, :oo. Not that I haven’t anything of the kind, but I want a new one. all the enjoyment he coqhii&j** /> f bis But though he was narxas Norther during all good, ablir men fFair, but then follow- worse kings. Bent spring-like weather, sacrificed anvwere the attraction* during of Ilanovays; and the Directors endcavor- AY every way to make it a grand success. The far famed Mexican band that formed one of the great attractions of the New Or leans Exposition was here and gave concerts daily. Fifty Indians were camped on the grounds, their wig wains were a great curi osity and at night after watching the gran 1 display of tire work* and the electric light made all ;us bright as noon-days rays. The noble red-men would dance their war and buffalo dances. The Bonsche Zouaves of St. Louis drilled each day at noon; then came the balloon?ascension, followed by trotting, running, hurdle and chariot races. The display of horses excited the adminis tration of all. Various kinds of cattle were here, .among them were seen the sacred cattle of India, in a side tent was seen the largest steer in the world or said to be, it weighed 3,- 080 lbs., height 0 ft. 4 in. and length 10 ft 5 “’Tis not that I expect to find ■mm rm ainiM iu*. ' -a. m ‘ An ordinary atmos ffu re would not suffice to PV W visited young la i^for a year otT x&ift.WiTth&'fo a*; \\ ith rosier l ps or sweeier mindx- Enough for me that site’s a new** Now I am not a flirt, yet I have nel| Z found my “id,a'.” But r know that .J-S E* somewhere in this wide wide wor'd No she come to my rescue? Full particulars' description will be given upon rect ipt of h. Dear Mother Ifubbard: I want to tell the members about the conference which met in the Methodist church in our town last week. For the last two days it seems like God has placed th* biting weather in the Christian’s path to test his faith. But I think there are few that have not stood the test bravely. To-day the ground has been frosted with a light snow and the dull-leaden sky mantles the outer vo id in gloom. Although Nature’s darkness had ere it through the windows of the church, it could not darken the faces with in. God’s spirit hail so fitted the souls of tlie old veterans and the young soldiers in His cause that the outer gloom only augmented the assurance of His ever brightening presence. 'I’his day the new bishop, Mr. Duncan, of South Carolina, preached; and right well did the courtly old man grace the pulpit. In his sermon lie forciblv remarked: “The world has not all the brains. ’ We felt assured that it had been deprived of a large portion when his co-operation with it had ceased. Hrevious to the sermon, they had one of those good old-fashioned love feasts. The ministers could speak little, for their tears of thankfulness for the Omnipotent's mercies choked their utterance, but some of their faces told it all. After one of these ministers ex periences some inspired soul (I speak it with reverence) in the congregation began to sing one of those grand old songs our fathers loved to hear. Every voice joined and the church rung with the sound of praise. I felt as if I were being swept right up, up, higher and higher. I wish you could have participated in the awe, the reverence, the perfect content ment I felt this eve. The very darkness only seemed to evidence more plainly the presence of our God in my heart on this day, in the gloomy little church, in the year of our Lord 1880 Milo. West Point, Miss. Agricultural hall had its portals entered by thousands each day to hear and watch the busy turning wheels. Here barbed wire was being made and wound in rolls. Cotton was pressed and made into batting. A little farther it was being carded, then made into thread. We could watch the spool, being made, tilled and labeled. Large and ever changing was the crowd that watched the “model farm.” It was built around a post. In the center is a hill on the summit stands the farm-house surrounded by grass and trees. Below runs the train of cars, outside of this is a circle cf dirt on which are ploughs, harrows, cultivators and rollers following in rapid succession, and doing its work with unfailing regularity. Again a circle but’tis no longer dry land that meets your eye, but a canal where boats of varied sizes are plying to anp fro. In the Oliver chilled plough, display is seen two little golden ploughs beautiful in work manship and treasured as a relic of the great centennial where they were much admired. Being near the door and opposite the exposi tion building we will enter aL(l view its many attractions and they are many for ever avail able space is taken and the dimensions are •300 x200 feet, Down stairs dry goods and gents furnishing stores have their lovely wares displayed with artistic taste, near by the Dallas soap factory pleases one with its beautifully kept yard surrounding the man sion built of soap. Joining is a small .30x 40 feet tobacco plantation, with its hut, dog, chickens, coon, coon-skins and strings of to bacco hanging up to dry. Old Uncle Ned is busy hoeing out the plants. Mammy is peel ing potatoes or listening to a young negro playing on the banjo and singing negro melo dies. Music stores, machine companies, liquor establishments, druggists, and hardware mer chants have their goods arranged with sir- parsing taste. In the center is the ever flowing fountain on its brink are flowers of beauty. Here two of Texas noted florists have their display. “Up a winding” stair and you reach wheie the furniture stores have rooms fitted up in magnificence and beauty. Souvenir peddlars have stands scattered along your route from here until you reach the ladies department. I will take you into our office fitted up with tasteful care. The superinteudeut will greet you in a cordial manner, hand you over to the secretary or some lady serving on one of the committees, who will gladly and proudly take you through the nine rooms filled to overflow ing with woman’s work. Three are termed the “art department” and the walls are covered with pictures, many of beautiful design and wonderful execution. Four more are arranged with taste and contain all kings of needlework, embroidery, lace de signs, enough and sufficiently handsome to excite the admiration and wonder of the be holder. Joining is the room reserved for decorative work. Here are plaques, hammered brass screens, banners, painting on bolting clcth, painting on china, pottery, etc. All of wonderfal beauty. The “curio” is the last named though not the least, admired, the crowd at all times was gazing at the relics gathered by travelers from China, India, Europe, Icelaad and the far off islands. Here you saw an apron worn at George Washington’s funeral, a paper publish ed at'that time hung near the only illustrated paper published in the confederacy, a letter written by Martin Luther was placed near a piece of an alter cloth presented by England’s Queen Anne to a Hhiladelphia church. I never did “get on well together.” I suppose it is because I am too thoroughly German. There always j-e med to me to be a sort of ob jective (I don't mean objectionable; I mean objective as distinguished from subjective). There alway* seemed a sort of objective lijfli - ness about French literature, an inclination, if not to trifle with, at least to treat with imliffVr- ence all the so’emn and imperative impulses of the soul—an inclination to which the earlier parts of this letter distinctly allude. I am so little in sympathy witn such writings, that I’m hardly prepared to criticise them fairly. And I must confes*, once for all, that I feel more comfortable when I read a liter ature breath ing, or rather giving out a different spirit. Give me the delicate, tender, subtle, reveren tial spirit of the German school—reverential even in its doubts; f<»r do not the doubts arise from a consuming desire to know and grasp the truth? lean feel unqualified respect and tender sympathy for an honest doubter; but for a trifler I find nothing in my heart but a pity akin to contempt. N. E. II. Columbus, Ga., Dec. 17. Dear Mother Ihihhard: Many changes since I las: visited you. Many sorrows, many dis appointments, but He who rules will steer us safely into the haven of rest at last. Thanks to Veritas and others for kind re membrance of one who vt ry often peeps in and listens to your happy, live y chats. Con tinue your kind remembrance. Farmer Willie. Haralson, Ga. Lee O. answer to this. I am 22. Care Sunny South. “Merchant B.,” a well to-do young man 21 years old, wants a brunette to write to him. “Brunette H-’’—Young and pretty, wants# handsome and intelligent correspondent, no* over thirty. ’ Texts Cow Boy wants correspondents. < »b_ ject fun. Miriam wants a good farmer correspondent. Smithy, a I exan. would like female corre spondents under eighteen. “Delightful Seventeen” will correspond with ELEGANT OIL PICTURES. For Two New Subscribers We will Send any Picture in the Fol lowing List. MOOSEIIEAD LaKE.—I III the bank of the lake a group of deer are watching an Indian canoe coming towards them. The trees are decked in autunin’sbrightest beauty,with moun tains in the background. Size 15x21. IN THE COUNTRY.—A lovely cottage fa ces the greenest of malls dotted with trees. A steamboat has rounded to at a distant landing. Down a pretty road dashes two pretty gay d:qi- pled gray horses that draw a happy couple. Size 15x21. FLORA’S OFFERING.—A beautiful flower picture, black ground, conceded to be the most perfect chromo ever yet produced. Size 10x2tl. THE EASTER CROSS.—A large cross, em bellished with flowers, and with the motto “The Lord is Risen.” A companion to “Flora’s Offering.” Black back ground. Size 10x20. SARATOGA SPRINGS.—A fine chromo of this favorite watering-place. The groups of pleasure seekers, the springs, trees, walks, etc., witli tlie beautiful coloring forms one of the most delightful chromos in our collection. Size 16x21. CENTRAL PARK.—New York’s beautiful wonder is produced to perfection in our chro mo. The drives, the promenades, the terrace and a hundred other beauties of tlie Park are rich fac simile* of the original. Size 15x21. WASHINGTON AT TRENTON.—The bat tle picture for the times. Washington ou his war horse is tbs spirit of the battle which rages around him. Tlie face is Washington’s, true to life, and the struggling armies are seen engaged iu the terrible conflict. Size 15x18. WINTER SUNDAY IN OLDEN TIMES.— This picture recalls the good old Sabbaths of long ago. We havo the antique church, cover ed with snow, and tlie good folk coming to worship. Near by is the parsonage and school- house, and in the background a range of snowy hills. Size 15x21. LIFE’S DREAM.—A picture illustrating the dream of life. A boat-load of people ap proach an aged couple seated beneath a grand old tree, the young mother holds up her babe, who claps its little hands at sight of the vener able pair. At the extreme right two ladies and their escort are angling. Size 15x22. C. 1 lit re I am, just as happy as a big sunflower; aged nineteen, have black eyes, dark-brown hair, six feet tall, and awfully hungry for a wife. I have traveled all over the West, but as all other bo;, s, I like home best. Won’t some kind-hearted, good-looking girl write to the Knioiit Ol iuk Wkst? I am a farmer of extra circumstances; I wish a true wife. j |j Care of the Sunny South. A young Texan about 21 years of age, would like to correspond with some of the fair sex. Will some of them please correspond with ma at once? Luonii.as. Lorenzo, age Iff, a lover of books, would like to correspond with a brunette. Wanted.—A lady correspondent who does not care to marry. Prompt answer. T. L. B. “Rob,” age 20, desires correspondents not over eighteen. Composes well; intelligent and honest. Brunetts preferred. An accomplished dark-eyed Southern girl wishes correspondents. j|. p “Brink, ’ age 21, wants lively correspond ents. Blondes preferred. Fair education good character and jolly disposition. ’ “Antony” wants a pretty, intelligent South ern girl as correspondent. Must not be over 18 years old. Granville, a romantic young man of 2d, has ample means, m search of a dear friend, per chance a wife. Beauty and accomplishments required. No wealth. TARRH ELY’S Cream Balm Gives Relief at and Cures COLD in HEADj CATARRH, HAY FEVEE. Not a Liquid, Snnjt otl Powder. Free from /n-l iurious Drugs and Cf l ■ fenske odors. HAY”FE VE R A particle IS applied into eaah nostril snow agreeable. Price CO cents at Dnuel*G : bVm.|| registered, 60 cents. Circulars free? ELY BROS ’ hTt-yr Druggists, Onego. N Y. Old Pictures Copied and Enlarged . A f; D, ’ w *?V sl j" ,own ■»<» county l? the Sooth. Send for terms and ctreolrrs. If yo “dm! not take an agency get our retail prices and send picture, dir.et.o us.theT will he do5 a prom, “» Snd best style. Address SOUTHERN COPYING CO No. S Marietta street. Atlanta. Ga. »» at * A PRESENT TO EVERYBODY^ Send your address on a Postal Card, and we wtn forward you a desirable present. Wr bur onSiiPv ent kinds of valoable books, eirnipletetonfai^ and other works by flrst-elass writers which cm he had free. Address K. GLEASON & CO pShinSIi? M Summer street, Boston, Mass. '
