Cuthbert weekly appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 18??-????, May 05, 1871, Image 1

Georgia Historic Newspapers

Cuthbert weekly appeal., May 05, 1871, Image 1

About Cuthbert weekly appeal. (Cuthbert, Ga.) 18??-???? | View Entire Issue (May 5, 1871)

Page of 4

Prev Issue Next Issue

Text PDF JP2 (7.3 MB) Clip/Print Image

Page of 4

Prev Issue Next Issue

Return to Top

Newspaper Page TextVOL. V. THE APPEAL. RUBLIBHYIVISVEHY FRIDAY, BY SAWTELL & CHRISTIAN. Terms of Subscription.: One Year. ...S3 00 | Six Months. 00 INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. ur. No attention paid to orders for the pa t>er un'ess accompanied by the Cash. Hates of Advertising : One square, (ten lines or less.) $1 00 for the •Best and 75 cents for each subsequent inner lion. A liberal deduction made to parties Who advertise by the year- Persons sending advertisements should mark the number of times they desire them inser ted, of they will he conunued until forbid and Charged accordingly. Transient advertisements niUbt be paid for tit the time of insertion. Announcing names of candidates for office, 1(5.00. Cash, in all cases Obituary notices over live lines, charged at regular advertising ra*es. All communications intended to promote the private ends or interests of Corporations, So eitiies. or indtvidnals, will be charged as ad ▼erbsetnents. Job Work, such as Pamphlets. Circulars, Cards, Blanks, Handbills, etc,, will be execu tad in good style and at re-isonable rates. All letters addressed to the Proprietor will be promptly attended to. Church Directory. METHODIST CHURCH— R. B. Lister, Pltstor. Preaching at 11, A. M. A 7 1-2, P. M. Sab bath school, 8, P. M BAPTIST CHURCH—-F M Daniel, Pas tor, t Preaching at 11, A. M. Sl 7 12, P. M. Sab bath school 9 1-2, A M. PRE&HYTISIiIAN CHURCH—J. S. Co* by. Pastor. Preaching«t 11, A. M. A 7 1-2, P. M. Sab bsth school, 0 12, A. M. Two Little Shoes. nr e. a. l. k. little BhoefMjf bronze, well wont, Are on a bracket low ; Tliey’rc baby's shoes ; she wore them laet # Full two long years ago. The little toes are worn in holes. The beep are both yun down, But dearer far, those treasures twain, Than monarch's rarest crown. Her dancing feet, so recklessly, Once more they seem to run. “ To frighten folks," behind the door, ** To scare them, just for fun ! ” Two little shoes o< bronze—alas, The rgstfoss feet no longer press ; The rosebud lips can nevermore Return each loud caress. They tell us of the angels bright, Who stand around the throne, They say out darling’s life is now The brightest she has known. ’ But o’et our lives, and in our souls, The cruel woe has come ; “And bitterly .wu monni for her, » '* 4 Within our lonely home. A little grave, o’er which the 'grass a t Is fresh and green to-dny ; Aud sad, sad hearts, more lonely now, Than wheu she went away ; Yet still the memory bells ring out, The tones wc ne’er may lose ; And when we think of darling May. She wears those old bronze shoes. The Tower of Babel.—A writ er, describes the present appearance of the place where lauguages got mixed : “ After a ride of nine miles we wereatjthe foot of the Bier Nimreoi. Our horses’feet were trampling upon the remains of bricks, which showed here and there through the accumulated dust and rubbish of ages.. Before our eyes uprose a great mound of earth, barren and bare. This was Bicr- Nimrobd, the ruins of the Tower us Babel, by which the first builders of the earth had vainly hoped to scale high heaven. Here, also, it was that Nebuchadnezzar built—for bricks, bearing his name have been found in the ruins. At the top of the mound a great mass of brick work pierces the'accumulated soil With your fingers you touch the very bricks—large, square-shaped, and massive that were ‘ thoroug lv ’ burned, the very mortar, the Hii&e 1 now hat’d as granite, han dled more thar four thousand years ago by earth’s impious people.— From tile summit of the mound, far away over the plain, we set glisten ing, brilliant as a star, the gilded dome of a mbSque, that caught and reflected the bright rays of the morning sun. This glittering speck was the'tomb of the holy All. To pray before this dt some period of Itis life ;-to kiss the sacred dust of the earth around there, at some time or other ; to bend his body .and count his beads—is the daily defcfre of every devout Ma omme •<dan.” . r —-— — -A WonDttRFUL City Is London ! —lt is four times more populous than New York ami St. Petersburg, twice as populous as Constantinople, has two-thirds more people in it than Paris and one-fourth more than It contains as many peo ple as Scotland ; twice as many as Demnare, and three times the number of Greece. Every eight miputes, night and day, one person dies; every five minutes one is born. Eight hundred thousand have been to ipib population since 1851. €)nfy l lifljf a million of all this pop ulation attend public worship, and there are a million of absentees who, if inclined to attend, would re quire to have eight hundred new places of worship built; 100,000 people work on Sundays; there are I*o,ooo habitual gin-drinkers; 190,- 000 intoxicated people taken every year off the streets; 1 00,000 fallen women; 10,000 professional gam blers; 20,000 children trained to crime. There are four hundred bi ble women; three hundred and eighty eity missionaries ; and twen fytheueand persons attend public worship in the theatres every Sun day evening. It is a world in it self. CUTHBERT John Merrill’s Secret Among the heterogeneous crowd who were to be my shipmates in the Amphion, I was particularly attract ed to a slender youth from one of the back counties of New York State, who signed his name on the papers as John Merrill, lie was nearly ray own age, I judged; and there was an air of quiet refinement about him, strikingly in contrast with the rude, boisterous character of the majority of our associates. These last were about an average of such raw material as is recruited every day of the week at the metropolis, and shipped off to the whaling ports, to be manufactured into sea men. John was, from the first, retired and uncommunicative, though less so in his intercouroe v ith me than any one else. He never referred to his antecedents, though 1 had given him my whole autobigraphy before we had been a fortnight at sea. And as 1 found him u sympa thizing listener whenever I wanted to let my tongue run on, I don’t think I ever thought o# esteeming him the less for his reticence as to my past lile. I merely thought that be must have some .good rea son for wishing to conceal his true history, and was too conscientious to invent a false one. One of John’s eccentricities —I know not what else to call it—was that he always kept his seachest locked. This is uuusual in a whaler’s forecastle, and always subjects the man doing it to unpleasant remarks, as implying a waul of confidence in the honesty of his shipmates. It is common to «ay of the man who does it, that “he is either a thief himself, or else thinks the rest of us are thieves.” But John Merrill only blushed, without making any audible reply, when such cutting insinuations were thrown out, as they occasionally were, in his hear ing. They had no effect whatever in producing any change in his hab its. Even I myself could never get a peep at his inventory. He was generous, even to a fault, in respect togiving-or lending little matters; but he always kept his chest in the darkest corner of our little, dark, triangular quarters, and when he took out or put iu anything, was careful never to leave it unlocked. As concerned his duty, he did not appear to be the stuff of which crack sailors are made. But he won upon the good opinion of the officers, even of gruff Mr. Baldwin, our executive, a tarry old Triton, whom current report declared to be web-footed 1 can’t haze that boy,” lie would say. “We must ease hiru, till he has eaten a few barrels of salt horse to harden his sinews.” I could not tell why, but I don’t think I was ever envious of my comrade because the mate favored him in this way, while he drove me up to my utmost capacity. Both of us were respectful and willing, and tried hard to do our duty, and as he expressed it, “make, men of ourselves.” And 1 think I felt rath er elated to know that Mr. Baldwin discovered that there Was tougher material in me than John Merrill, and worked us accordingly. It was an honor to be elected to pull the mate’s tub-oar, while he was enroll ed in the rear rank of the “ship keepers.” And I never complained, even when, in reefing topsails, the old salt would say kindly, “Step down, John Merrill, I want you to help me;” while at the next mo ment, he roared at me on the yard in a voice of thunder, “Lay out there, you Bill, pnd take up that dog’s ear! ” 1 think I may have assumed a patronizing air in rfiy intercourse with John, in consequence of all this. Feeling a professional superi ority, I could not avoid letting it appear sometimes. But if so, he never seemed to notice it. If there was a sudden call in our watch for une of the boys to jump aloft and reef studding-sail halyards, or loose a royal, John would start sometimes, but 1 would gently push nim back and jump in ahead of him. I was proud of my ability to take the load, and there was gratitude in stead of indignation or shame in his clear blue eye on such occasions. Some of the men standing near would perhaps intimate that he was wanting in pluck to let me do this. But I don’t thiuk I ever thought so, though of course I felt flattei ed by such remarks, as any boy would. But John Merrill made sure, though slow, progress in his duties, and his sinews hardened up, as Mr. Baldwin had prophesied. Though delicate in frame, his health seemed perfect, and in some respects we had no better man among us. He was always ready to take an extra trick on the lookout, for he seemed to like being alone where he could commune with his own thoughts.— And he was soon acknowledged to be the best helmsman on board. Did the sturdy old Amphion show a determination to carry her wheel an extra spoke to the windward at “full and-by,” or to make wayward sheers and yaws when off before it, no one could manage her like this quiet, timid youth. He was always ready to take my turn at the helm for me; indeed, would have taken them all if I would have let him. He could have done me no greater favor than this; for no duty, however labori ous or dangerous, ivas so irksome to me as steering the ship. To do it well, required an abstraction of the mind for two hours from all oth er matters, with a touch and a kind of forethought, or rather forc-fcel- CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, MAY 5, 1871. ing, iu which John Merrell excelled, but .which few rough and-tumble sailors possess. Mr. Baldwin used to declare that “he never knew a right-down smart fellow who could steer more than a fair, decent trick ; and that he nev er knew an A one extra helmsman who was gujod for much else.”— And, after an observation of many years, I tbinic his statement was not far from the truth. We made our first port at Talca hauno after doubling Cape Horne, and John and I beiDg in the same watch, were much together on shore. •But he woulif never stay alter dark, and appeared utterly insensible tc the fascinations of the Chilian bru nettes. He would drink no liquor, and his example, in this respect, had a good effect upon myself. We sailed for a cruise on the coast of Feme, after a short stay in port. Among the men shipped to fill vacancies was one known as “California Tom,” a fellow of un bounded assurance and infinite “gas,” to whom /John and I both took an instinctive aversion at first acquaintance. But lie found some congenial spirits on board the Am phion, as such, fellows will in auy ship where they may cast their for tunes. We had not been long at sea be fore it appeared that we lmd some one in our circle who disdained the nice little distinction of meum and team. Several articles had been,- mysteriously missed by different parties, and complaints were loud and clamorous. A ship's forecastle is as unfit a place for a thief as he can well find his way into. As much uneasiness is caused by his presence as by the knowledge that a powder magazine is located somewhere under the deck, without knowing exactly where.— Woe to him if lie is caught; for though Jack’s standard of morality is, in many respects, no higher than it ought to be, he has no mercy for a pilfering shipmate. He has, it may be said, one code of morals to regulate his dealings with his own comrade, and another much more elastic, for the great barbarian world outside. We became a very unhappy fami ly aftfcr this discovery, for, of course, all mutual confidence was lost, until it should appear who the offender was. -No one was exempt from sus picion; though the weight of it was equally divided between Cali fornia Tom and my demure friend, John Merrill. Each had his friends, who believed the other guilty, but while the boy modestly refrained from saying anything about it, Tom did not scruple to bead his own party. “It’s easy enough to see who the thief is,” 1 .heard him say one night, as he occupied the centre of a little knot of his cronies. “It’s that sleek faced little hypocrite that is at the wheel now.” “Os course ’tis,” said Derby, one of the “congenials.” “It’s enough to condemn any fellow to know that he keeps his donkey always locked up.” “What business has one man to bo allowed to lock bis donkey, any how ?” demanded Tom, loud enough for all to hear. “I say, let’s go and kick the lid open and see what’s in it. “Sit right down,” said Frank Wightman, from our side of the house; for Tom had risen as if to carry his suggestions into effect. — “Don’t undertake anything of the kind John Merrill isn’t here to speak for himself, and no man shall break his chest open while I’m by to prevent it.” “Don’t yon want to find out who the thief is?” asked Derby. “Os course I do; and I don’t think J should have to go far to do that. If there’s to be a general search of chests and bunks, I’m Veady to agree to it at any time; and perhaps the boy will be willing to open his, in such a case. But 1 say it shan’t be kicked open in bis absence.” “It’s plain enough that he is the guilty oue,” said Tom “when his chest is the only one locked, and—” “I dou’t know about that,” re ported Frank, with a significant look. “A thief might find other places for his plunder besides in his chest. Indeed, if he’s an old hand at it he would be likely to.” This home-thrust put an end to the discussion for the moment; for Tom as well as Derby and the rest of his gang were afraid of Wight man who alone was a match for any of them. But when John was re lieved from the wheel we told him what had occurred, and how suspi cion was thickening upon him.— Frank asked him if he was willing to open bis chest and let us all have a.look at its contents. “No,” said he quickly 7, “I am not willing.” “But why not, if you are inno cent ?” “I cannot fay why not, but I can assure you that I know nothing about the stolen things. You must either take my w ord for it, or, if a general search is determined upon, open my chest by force, for I shall not consent to have it done.” “I believe what you say, John,” said Frank, “and so does Bill, here, that you are entirely innocent. But there are many who don’t, and there will be still more, if you dou’t satisfy them. Perhaps if you let me, alone, overhaul it, or Bill, if that will suit you better, eh ?” “No, I cannot show the contents of it, even to Bill. If the matter is pressed hard, I shall appeal to the old man for protection, though I don’t know as that would do any good.” “None at all,” said Wightman and I, both at once. “What would he do, do vou think ?” “Exercise his authority, and de mand the key at once—or open it by force. He has heard about the thefts, as you know; and I heard him tell Mr. Baldwin that if anoth er case was reported, he should make a general search, and flog the thief, if he could be found.” The boy rested his face upon bis hands in thought, but never no an swer. “Never, mfnd, John,” said Wight man ; “don’t fret about it. No harm shall come to you, anyhow I’m satisfied of your truth, and if you still decline to show your things, you shan’t he forced to, at least bv anybody in this end of the ship.- But think this matter over, and' perhaps to-morrow you’ll feel differ ent about it. I’ve no idle curiosity myself, to want to kngw your se cret ; but I would like to satisfy others, who haven’t the same trust in your integrity that I have.” That night in the middle watch, I was awakened by a slight clicking noise, and I saw California Tom, by the dim light of a hanging lamp, stealthily opening John’s chest with a key. John himself, as well as all the rest of my watch, was sleeping soundly; but I knew 7 that he never left his key where it could be found. It wms always about his person, night and day. Tom must have found a duplicate key to fit the chest. I was about to speak and give the alarm t<YWightman and cjhers ; but, on second thought, determined to wait a moment and see the result. Tom had a bundle in one hand, which appeared to be anew iianuel shirt, and as the lock flew open at last, he lost no time in looking into the chest, pushed in the bundle and relocked it and went on deck. I considered the matter, and de termined to tell Frank Wightman, which I did as soon as our watch turned out. “Don’t tell John,” were his first words ; “ I hope he won’t open the chest and discover it; for I want to see what kind of a plot is hatching. John Merrill had the morning mast head, and went up to his post at daylight, without having had oc casion to look into his chest. Tom was up and stirring soon afterwards —an unusual proceeding for him in a morning watch off duty—and headed off Captain Soule as soon as he made his appearance above deck. Presently the order was given to call all haiids, and muster them up. One of the mates was sent iu the forecastle to see that no one linger ed, and to have all the men’s kits and etlects roused up to the light of day. The captain was evidently in a towering rage, for he bad pass ed lightly over several previous re ports of theft, hoping the matter would be adjusted without his in terference. But Tom lost anew shirt during the night, and Captain Soule had lost his patience. “ I’ll find if it’s inside the ship !” said he ; “ and I’ll flog the man that stole it.” Several bags and chests had been emptied of their contents in the presence of.us all; for John had been called down from aloft, and stood, thoughtful and agitated, at my side. When the captain came to the locked chest— “ Whoie is this? ” ho demanded. “ Miue, sir,” said the lad. “ Gi’iue your key ? ” If you’ll excuse me sir—l would like to speak a word with you —by ourselves, sir, if you please.” But the captain was not in the hu mor to listen to any remonstrance at that moment. “Jet mo go through with this cursed business before I talk with anybody! It doesn’t look well, anyhow, that you keej> your chest locked up.” He swung back his heavy boot as he spoke, and with a single kick un der the projecting edge of the lid it flew- open. “There’s my shirt!” exclaimed Tom, seizing the bundle that lay on the top. He shook it open, showed his marks, and it was at once iden tified beyond all dispute. “ Enough said ! We’re on the right track now,” said Captain Soule. “ Take up this chest and carry it aft.” And he closed the lid with a bang. “ Mr. Baldwin,” he continued, “ strip John Merrill’s rack, and seize him up ! It’s anew thing for me to flog one of my men—a thing I never did—but I’ve sworn it in this case, and I’ll keep my word.” The poor boy, overwhelmed with confusion, could hardly- find a word to protest his innocence, as the mate led him aft. But Frank Wightman at this moment neared the ctlptaiu respectfully, and touched him gently on the shoulder. A word was spo ken ; the captain relaxed bis angry 7 brows to listen to it, for Wightman was the best man iu the forecastle. The two walked aft together, con versing earnestly. I kept my 7 eye on them, till Frank made a signal, which I understood, when I follow ed. “ Mr. Derrick,” said the captain to the second mate, “ keep every thing as it stands, with the chests, forward. Don’t allow a man to touch, a thing till further orders.” He beckoned Wightman and my self to come below. But as ho did not countermand the order he had given about seizing John up, the mate, it seems, proceeded to obey 7 it. He prepared the seizings, but when he ordered the boy to remove his shirt, he met with unexpected resistance. While I was relating to Captain Soule, in the forward cabin, what I hud seen during the middle watch, there was a scuffle over our heads, and John Merrill, in a frerizy of excitement, rushed down the stairs and into the after cabin. “Hold on, Mr. Baldwin, never miud what I told you, for the present.” And the captain follow ed the boy- into the sanctum, while we awaited the result In a minute afterwards he put his head ’out at the door with the strangest look on his face that 1 had ever seen mor tal man wear. “ W ightman, you and' Bill pass John Merrill’s chest down the stairs —right into this room !” We obeyed the order, and set our burden down at his feet. But the lad was nowhere to be seen as we looked about uS. “ That’ll do. You can go ou deck now. I’ll talk with you again soon ” Aud the door was closed between us aud the mystery. It was Half au hour before Cap tain Soule came up and ordered the search continued. When he came to Tom’s chest he overhauled it very carefully ; but it was apparent ly emptied to the bottom without finding any 7 stolen property. But still unsatisfied, he stood it up on end, thumped it heavily, and threw it bottom up. A false bottom .was dislodged aud fell out. followed by the various missing articles. A general cry of indignation was raised, and a strong disposition was manifested to lynch California Tom. But Mr. Bahlwin ; took.upon himself the office of executioner this time with a good will. “ I always felt it iu ray hones that John Merrill was innocent,” said he to Captain Soule; “and when it came to stripping his shirt, I hadn’t somehow, any 7 heart to do it.” “ I’vn glad you didn’t succeed in doing it,” was the reply. “ I couldn’t have flogged him if he had been guilty—nor could you either.” “ How so, sir ?”• - “Do you think you could lay the cat on the back of a woman'?” That comical look of the captain’s was reflected, nay multiplied ten fold in the rough face of the old mate. “ A woman !” he gasped out; “John Merrill?” “Ay, a w-oiuan, Mr. Baldwin;— Annie Carroll is her name, now-- ” “ But—what are you going to do with him, sir ?” “Do with him ? With her, you mean —put him, or put her, or it, ashore, of course, as soon as I can make a port. We must give her a state-room in the cabin, aud have her to wear puch a dress as belongs to her sex.” “Well—well”—said Mr. Bald win, reflectively; “t never had anything bring me up with a round turn like that.” Then a bright idea seemed to have struck him, and he demanded triumphant ly, “ where’s your clothes to dress her in?” “ She’s got all her dry goods in her chest, ready to wear.” “ What! in John Merrill's chest, do you mean ?” “Os course. Whose else should I mean ? That’s why 7 he —she, I mean —always kept it locked, and was so Secret about it,” I shall not s’pe/nd time to tell how ive talked the master over in the forecastle that night, and compared notes, and went back to every little incident of the outward passage, that might be supposed to have any bearing upon this astounding dis covery. Os course there were those ready to say they* had guessed 1 tire truth months ago ; but I venture to say that no man on board the Am phion had the slightest suspicion of the truth, until it was revealed to Captain Soule, as I have related.— And how much longer’ wo might have been in the dark, but fol- the attempt to flog her, it is difficult to say. John Merrill stood no more watches on board the Amphion, nor went to the masthead. But Annie Carroll, a beautiful young lady, save that she wore her hair rather 100 much au garcon , sometimes • steered a trick at the wheel wlieu she felt in the humor, until our ar rival at Callao, where she became, wheu her story was knowri, the he roine, the lioness of the hour* A passage home was-secured for her ; and .she took leave of us all," with no desire, as she confessed, to follow any- further the profession of a sail or. It was the oJd». old story., An or phan, a harsh guardian, and an at tempt to force .her iuto a marriage with one she disliked- A madcap scheme, in which she had embarked from a wayward impulse, and per sisted in because she hardly 7 knew how or when so retreat. And we were constrained to admit when we reviewed all the circumstances, tluvt she had nobly sustained the double character, and had preserved all the finer attributes of her 6ox, while she laid aside the apparel. And will it be .wondered that she lost her heart while on board the Amphion ? Not to me; for, of course, I was but a boy in here yes. But when. I last saw John Merrill, he was Mrs. Captain Wightman, and still claimed to be, if not the boldest seaman, the best helmsman, at least, of the family circle —“Victoria Woodhull” is the rlame of anew brand of Pittsburg whis key, of more than usual power and searching qualities. APPEAL. How Gunn Went Off. THE FATE OF A LIFE INSURANCE FIEND. Ilis name was Benjamin P. Gunn, and he was the agent for an insu rance company. He came round to my, office fourteen times in one morning to see if lie could*persuade me to take out a life insurance poli cy in his company. He used to waylay- me on the street, at church, in my 7 own house, and bore me about that policy 7. If 1 went to the opera, Gunn would buy the seat next to me, and set there the whole evening talking about sudden death and the advantages of the ten-year plan. If I got into a street car, Gunn would come rushing in at the next corner., and sit by 7 my side and drag out a lot of mortality tables, and begin to explain how I could boat bis company out of a fortune. If I sat down to dinner in a restau rant up would come Gunn, and seiz ing the chair next to me, he would tell a cheering anecdote about anian who iusured in his company for $50,000 only last week, aud was ba rfed yesterday. If I- attended the funeral of a departed friend, aud wept as they threw the earth upon his coffin, I would hear a whisper, and, turning around, there would be the indomitable Benjamin P. Gunn, bursting to say: “Poor Smith! Knew him well. Insured for ten thousand m our company. Widow left in comfortable circumstances. Let me take your name. Shall 1? ” lie followed me everywhere; until at last I got so rick of Gunn’s per secutions that I left town suddenly one evening, and hid myself in a secluded country village, hoping to get rid of him. At the end of two weeks I returned, reaching home at one iu the morning. I hacf hardly got into bed before there was a ringing at the door-bell. I looked out, and there was Gunn with an other person, lie asked if Max Adder was at home.- I said I was the man. Mr Gunn then observed that he expected my return, and thought he would call round about that insurance, policy. He said he hud the doctor with him, and if I would come down lie would take my name aud have me examined irame diately 7 . I w its too indignant to re ply. I shut the window 7 with a slain and went to bed again. After break fast in the morning I opened the door, and there was 'Gunn sitting on the front steps with his doctor, waiting for me! He had been there all night. As I came out they seiz ed me and Died to undress me there on the pavement, in order to exam ine me. I retreated and locked my self up in the garret, with.orders to admit nobody to the house until I came down stairs. But Gunn wouldn’t be baffled. He actually rented the house next door, and stationed himself in a gar ret adjoining mine. When he got fixed lie spent his time pounding ou the partition aud crying; “Hallo! Adder!'—Adder, I say!—how about that policy ! Want to take her out now ! ” And then he would tell me some anecdotes about men who were cut offimmediately after pay ing the first premium. But paid no attention to him, and made no noise. Then he was silent for awhile. oue morning, tire .trap door of my garret was wrenched off; and, upon my looking up, I saw Gunn, with the doctor atfd a crowbar, and a lot of death-rates, coming down the ladder at me; I fled from the house to the Presbyte rian church close by, and paid the sexton twenty dollars to let me climb up to the point of the steeple and sit astride of the ball. 1 promised him twenty more if he would exclude everybody from that steeple for a week. Once safe ly on the ball, three hundred feet from tlicj earth, i made my self comforta - ble with the tho’t that I had Gunn at a disadvantage, and I determined to beat him finally if I had to stay there a mofith.- About an hour afterward, •white- J was -looking at- the superb view to the west J heard a rustling around ou the other side of the steeple. I lookeil around, and there was Benjamin P. Gunu creeping up the side of that spire in a balloon, in whioli was the doctor and the tabular estimates of the losses of his company from the Tontine sys tem. As soon as Gunn reached the ball he threw his grappling iron in the shingles' of the steeple, and ask ed me at what age my father had died, aud if any of mv auflts ever had consumption, or liver complaint- Withbut waiting to reply, I slid down the steeple to the ground, and took the first train for the Mississ ippi in Mexico. I determined to go to the interior and seek some wild spot, in seme elevated region, w-herc no Gunn w T ould ever dare to come. 1 got on a mule, find paid a guide to lead me to the summit of Popoea tapel. We arrived at the foot of the mountain at noon. We toiled* Upward sos about four hours. Just, ■before reaching the top I heard the sound of voices, and upon rounding a point Os rocks, who should i see but Benjamin P. Gunn, seated on the very edge of the crater, explain ihg the endowment plan to his guide, aud stupvfying him with a mortality table, while the doctor had the oth guide a few yards off, examining him to see if lie was healthy 7 . Mr Gunn arose and said he was glad to see me, because we could now talk over that business about the policy- without fear of interrup tion. In a paroxism of rage I push ed him backward into the crater, and he fell a thousand feet below with a heavy thud. As he struck the bottom, I heard a voice scream ing about “non-forfeiture;”- but there was a sudden convulsion of the mountain, a cloud of smoke, and I beard no more. I know it was wrong. I know I had no right to kill Gunn in that manner; but he forced me to do it in self-defense, and I hope his aw ful fate will be a warning to other in surance agents who remain among us. • M. A. Address to the People of the United States by the Democrats of Congress. The Democrats in Congress have jnst issued the following address : To the people of the United States : Our presence and official duties at Washington have enabled us to be come fully acquainted with the ac tions and designs of those who con trol the Radical party, and wo feel called upon to utter a few words of warning against the alarming strides they have made toward cen tralization of power in the bands of Congress and the Executive. The time and attention of the Radical leaders have been almost wholly di rected to devising such legislation as will, in their view, best preserve their ascendancy, and no regard for the wise restraints imposed by the Constitution has checked their reckless and desperate career. The President of the United States has beeu formally announced as a candi date for re-election. The do cl a ra tions or Lis selfish supporters have been re-echoed by a subsidized press, and the discipline of party has already made adhesion to his personal fortunes the supreme lost for political fealty'. The. partisan legislation to which we retire was decreed and shaped in secret-cau cus, where the extremest consols al ways dominated, and was adopted by 7 a subservient majority, if not with the intent, certainly with tne efi'det to place in the hands of the President,, power to command Jfis own renomination, and to enjploy the army, navy and militia, at his sole discretion, as a means of sub serving his personal ambition.— When the sad experience of the last two years, so disappointing -to the hopes and .generous confidence of the country is considered, in con nection With the violent utterances and rash purposes of those who control the President’s policy, it is not surprising that the gravest ap prehensions for the future peace of the nation should be entertained.— At a time when labor is depressed, and every material interest is pal sied by oppressive taxation, the pub lic offices have been multiplied be yond all precedent to serve as in struments in the perpetuation of power. __ Partizanship is the only test ap plied to the distribution of this vast patronage. Honesty, fitness and moral worth, are openly discarded, in favor of trickling submission and dishonorable compliance. Ilence enormous defalcations and wide spread corruption have followed as the natural consequences of this pernicious system. By the official report of tlic Sec retary of the Treasury it appears that, after the deduction of all prop er credits, juany millions of dollars remain due from ex-collectors of the internal revenue, and. that no proper diligence has ever been used to collect them. Reforms in the revenue aud fiscal systems, which all experience demonstrates to be necessary to a frugal administration of tjie Government, as well as a measure of relief to an overburden ed people, have been persistently postponed or wilfully neglected. Congress now adjourns without having even attempted to reduce taxation or repeal the glaring im positions by which indnstry is crushed and impoverished. The Treasury is overflowing, and an excess of eighty .millions of revenue is admitted, and yet, instead of some measure of present relief, a barren and delusive resolution is passed by the Senate to consider the tariff' aud excise systems hereaf ter, as if the history of broken pledges and pretended remedies furnished any better assurance for future legislation than experience has done in the past. Shipbuilding and the carrying trade., once sources pf national pride and prosperity, now r languish under a crushing load of taxation, and nearly every other business interest is struggling, with out profit-, to maintain itself. Our agriculturists, ivhile paying heavy taxes on all they consume, either to the Government or to monopolists, find the prices for their owu pro ducts so reduced that honest labor is denied its just reward, and indus try is prostrated by invidious dis crimination. Nearly 200,000,000 acres of public lands, w'hich should have been reserved for the benefit of the people, have been voted away to giant corporations, neglecting our soldiers, enriching a handful of greedy speculators and lobbyists, who arc thereby enabled to exercis* a most dangerous and corrupting influence oyer the State aud Feder al legislation. If the career of these conspirators be not checked, the downfall of free Government is- in evitable, and svith it the elevation of a military dictator on the ruins of the Republic, Under the pretence of passing laws to enforce the Fourteenth Amendment, and for other pur poses, Congress has conferred the most despotic power upon the Ex ecutive, and provided an official machinery by which the liberties of NO. 19 the people are menaced, anil the sa cred right of local self-govermueqt in the States is ignored, if not ,'to tally overthrown. Modeled-*aff& the sedition laws, so odious ii- fibs, tory, they are at variance with ail the sanctified theories of our institu tions, and the construction giVen by these Radical interpreter to the Fourteenth Amendment is, tp use the language of an eminent Sen ator—Mr. Trumbull, of Illinois—an “ annihilation of the States.” Un der the last enforcement biH, “the Executive may, in his discretioftj thrust aside the Government of apy State, suspend the writ of habeas corpus ,” arrest its Governor, iiii prison or disperse the Legislator, silence Us judges and trample d6wh its people uuder the armed his troops. Nothing is loft to' thp citizen or the State which can any longer be called a right—All is changed in a mere sufterancA.'-do-iq Our hopes for redress are . u» the calm good sense of the “ sober, sec ond thought ” of the American peo ple. We call upon them to be to themselves and to their posterity, aud, disregarding party names .and minor differences, to insist upon a decentralization of power, and '’the restriction of Federal authority within its just aud proper limits, leaving to the States that control over domestic affairs which !§' * 6s sentiul to their happiness ami !tmo quility, and good govern men hi in Everything that .malicious nuify could suggest lias been done to irritate the people Os the Middle and Southern States. Gross and exaggerated charges of disorder and violence owe their origin to the jnis r eliievous minds of potential inaua gers of the Senate and House of Representatives, to “which the Ex ecutive has, we regret to say, lent his aid, and,thus helped to iuflame the popular feeling. In all. course of hostile legislation and harsh treatment, no Word of concil iation, of kind encouragement, oi* fraternal fellowship has ever been spoken by the President or by Con gress to the people of the Southern States. They have been address ed only in the language of proscrip tion. We earnestly entreat our fellotv citizens in all parts of the Umon tb spare no effort to maintain peace and order, to carefully protect rights of every citizen, to preserve kindly relations between all mCri, and to discountenance and discour age any violation of the rights; of any portion of the people secured under the Constitution, or any its amendments. Let us, in conclusion, beg of ydh not to aid the pfeeSrrt attempts of lladical partisans to stir up strife in.the laud ;to renew the issues of the war, or to obstruct, th« return of peace and prosperity, io the Southern States, because It ik thus that they seek to divert the at tention of the country from the cor ruption and extravagance ,in jheir administration of public affairs, and the dangerous and at tempts they are making towards the creation of a centralized ' ihifitit ry government. ' dnon In thfe five years of peacse. : folkwp ing the war the Radical, adinipustnf tionshave expended 1,200,U00 J Q0O < dollars for ordinary purposes Malone'' being within §20(3,U00,b00 aggregate arrfonnt for' thb same pui'posGS in war, and coring the. seventy-one years JJUV ceeding June 30, 18Gl, not includ ing, in either case, the silrh pai<i upon principal or interest of dfife public debt. "" v ' lO it is trifling with the inteUigefldU of.the people, for .the. Radical >lead* ers to pretend that this vast has been honestly expended. Him dreds of millions of it has been wantonly kqtiandbred. Thecxpeifd* itures of the (Government for the fis cal year ending June 30, li*ol, wer§ only 162,000,000, while, foj;prccisCf ly the same purposes —civil ar my, navy, pensions and IndlhuiS— si 64,000,006 were expended 4ui4tl* the fiscal year, ending JonoMlh; 1870 *4 HiW Ala No indignation can be too, sferp, and no scorn too severe for the as* seftion by unscrupulous Radical leaders, that: the great ±)em<J©rfltie and Conservative party of theUip ion has or can have sympathy itb disorders or violence in any part of the country, or m the deprivation bf any man of his rights uudtflpkbe Constitution. It is to Pil'd perpetuate the rights which ev&ty freeman cherishes, to revive 1 ’ irTal| hearts the feelings of fiiendsihjh affection and harmony, Wlffpfr aj - e the best guarantees of law anil qiv dcr, and to throw around thC’lVftuv blost'citize’n, wherever n0 may Jae. the protecting regis of those safe guards of personal liberty wbidH the fundamental laws of the bill'd assure, that we invoke the aid of all good men in the work ot peace and reconstruction. We invite their generous '‘co op eration, irrespective of all formed differences of opinion, so that the harsh voice of discord may be si lenced; that anew and dangerous sectional agitation may he chocked'; that the burdens of taxation, direct or indirect, may be reduced to the lowest point-.consistent with good faith to every just national obliga tion, and with economical -administra.tioa of the (Jovemnuent, and that the States may be res to tod in their integrity and. true relation to our Federal Union. and A ray of light will perforin, the tour <sf the wOrld hi about tntl skme time time it would take to wink the eyelids.