Georgia Historic Newspapers

    VOL. V.
THE APPEAL.
lUBI.JSHtD iViCRT FRIDAY,
BY SAWTELL i CHRISTIAN,
Terras bf Subscription:
One Ybaii $3 00 ( Srx Moxths .... $2 00
Invariably in advance.
iSST” No attantion paid, to orders for the pa
ter un'esa accompanied by the Cash.
pr- -— 1 \
Rates of Advertising :
One square, (ten lines or less,) f 1 00 for the
n«t and 75 cent* for each subsequent inser
lion. A liberal deduction made to oartles
Who advertise by the year.
Persons sending advertisements should mark
the number of times'they desire them inser,
ted, or they will be continued until forbid and
charged accordingly.
'transient advertisements must be paid for
at the time of insertion.
Announcing names of candidates for office,
$5.00. Cash, in all cases
Obituary uotices over five lines, charged at
regular advertising ra*es.
All communications intended to promote the
private ends or interests of Corporations, So
cieties, or individuals, will be charged as ad
vertisements.
Job Work, such as Pamphlets, Circulars,
. Cards, Blanks, Handbills, etc., wilt he execu
ted in good style and at reasonable rates.
All letters addressed to the Proprietor will
be promptly utteuded M>, ~
'll JLi J BBS
A Proclamation.
GEORGIA.
By R UFUS B. B ULL O CK,
Governor of said State.
• Whk.rf.as, Official information has been re
ceived at this Department tlmt One Pleus ■
Fricks, a notorious character, lias of late com
mitted many depredations upon the good and
law abiding citizens of Lumpklu county, and
the count ies adjacent tin ivtn, and that several
indictments are now pending against him in
those counties, charging him with assault with
intent to murder, arson, horse stealing, and
oilier divers crimes ; and
Whereas, Notwithstanding I lie diligent ef
forts by the civil authorities in endeavoring
to apprehend the said Fricks, he has succeeded
in eluding thelf vigilance and is still at large,
greatly to the terr,or and the disturbance of
the peac6 add good oi tier of said communities:
Now, therefore, believing that the oftbiing
of a suitable reward is essential as a means of
bringing to justice the said Fricks, I have
thought proper to issue this my Proclamation,
hereby offo ring a reward of Five Hundred Dol
lars for tbe appireheusiou and delivery of the
said Pleus Fl icks to the Sheriff of Lumpkin
county, and an additional reward of Five
Hundred Dollars on his conviction of any of
the felonies with which he stands charged.
Given under my hand and the Great Seal of
the State at the rapitol, iu the city of At
]apta, this lSJth and yof July, in the year of
our Lord Eighteen Hundred and Seventy-
One, and of the Independence of the Uni
ted States of America the Ninety-sixth.
RUFUS B. BULLOCK
By the Governor :
David G. Co.tting, Secretary of State..
jyf?l4t
GEORGIA.
By R UFUS B. B ULL O CK,
Governor of Said State.
Whereas, on the 7th day of June, 1870, a
Proclamation was L-sutd "from this Depait
ment, offering a reward of Two Hundred Dol
lars for the apprehension and delivery, With
evidence to convict, to ties Sheriff of Tultafei.
ro county, of Alexander H. Evans, charged
with the murder of Jesse Nunn, iu said coun
ty ; and
Whereas, the said Evans is still at large,
continuing his depredations, and it being
represented to me lhut the murder cornu itted
by hlm.was most willful and atrocious, and
that it is the universal desire of the citizens if
"said oounty that the said Evans be wriested
for hi* evil doings and brought to a speedy trial
and punishment;
Now, therefore, in order the more effectual
ly to make certain the arrest of the said Evans
I have thought proper, and do li reby offer an
additional reward o; Five Hundred Dollars
for the aireat aud delivery of the said Alexan
der 11. Evans to the Sheriff of Taliaferro conn
tv, and a reward of Five Hundred Dollars on
his conviction
Given under my hand and the great seal of
the State, at the Capitol In Atlanta, this
twelfth day of July, in the year of our Lord
Eighteen Hundred and Seventy-oue, and of
tiie Independence of the United States of
America the Ninety-sixth.
RUFUS B. BULLOCK.
By the Governor:
Day in G, Ootting, Secretary of State
j>2l-4t
A Proclamation.
GEORGIA.
By It UFUB B. B ULL O GET,
Gpvernor of said Stote.
'Whereas, Official information has been re
ceived at tills Department that James Toombs,
a desperate character, recently convicted of
■murder, and confined under sentence of death
-in the common jail of Houston county, has
made his yscape from Said jail and is now at,
large ;
Now, therefore, I have thought proper to
issue this, my Pr clatnation, hereby offering a
Teward ol Five Hundred Dollars lor the ap
prehension and delivery of the sai 1 Ju-meS
Toombs tofbe Sheriff of Houston county, it:
order that he may be punished for tiie offense
of which be stands convicted.
Gi veil under my hand and the great seal of the
Executive Department at the Cat hoi in
Atlanta, thfs fourteenth day w July, in
the year of our Lord Eighteen Hundred
and Sevuntv-one, and of the Independence
of the Uiritcd States of America the Ninety
sixth.
EUFHS IS, BULLOCK.
By the'Go'Ve’hfnfr:
David G. Lotting, Sec'y of Slate.
jy~i -it
Fruits and Flowers,
Durham, Mountain Leaf
Smoking Tobacco,
For sale by T. S. I*o WELL, Trustee,
CUTHBERT g§§§ APPEAL.
Walker in Nicaragua.
[From the Poems of Joaquin Hiller, the new
California Poet.
WALKER.
“He was a brick and as brave as a tear;
As brave as Nevada's grizzlies are,
A Tesan tigress in her lair,
Or any lion of anywhere ;
Yet gentle as a panther is,
Mouthing bor young in her first fierce kiss,
And true Os soul as the north pole star;
Tall, courtly, grand as any king,
Ycteimple as a child at play,
In damp aud conn the same alway,
Arid hever moved at anything ;
A dash of sad a ess-in his air,
Born, may be of his over care,
And, may be,.born of despair
la early love—l never knew;
I question not, as many do,
. Os things as sacred as this is ;
I only know that he to me
Wad all a father, frioud, could be ;
I sought to know no more than this ;
Os history of him or his. ’
jus death. , •
Speak ill of him wfto will, be died
lu all disgrace ; say qi the dead
Ilis heart wa# black, his hands were red ; ;
Say this much, anil be satisfied ;
• Gloat over it ail uudenied ;
I only say that be to ine’
Whatever lie to others was,
Was truer far than any one
That I have known beneath the sun,
Muu, maid, or saint, or Sadducee,
A* boy or man for any cause—
I simply say lie was my friend
When strong of hand and lair of fame ;
Dead and disgraced. I stand the same
Ty him, aud so shall to the end.
HIS GIiAVK.
lie lies low in the lovell’d sand,
Unslielterd from the tropic sun,
And now, of all he knew, not. one
Will speak of his fair in that far land,
this that made me seek,
Disguised, his grave one winter-tide,
A weakness for the weaker side,
A siding with the helpless weak.
A palm not far held out a baud,
Hard by a log green bamboo swung,
And bent like some gre*»t bow uusUung,
And quiver'd like a willow wand ;
Beneath a broad bauaua’s leaf,
Perch’d on its fruits that crooked hung,
A bird in rainbow splendor sung
A low, eatlsqng of tempered grief.
No sod, no sign, no cross or stone,
But at his side a cactus green
Upheld its lances long aud keen ;
It stood in hot red sands alone,
Flat-palin'd and fierce with liftd spears ;
One bloom oi crimson crown’d its head,
A diop of blood, so bright,so red,
Yet redolent as roses’ tears.
In my left hand I held a shell,
All rosy lipp'd and pearly red ;
1 laid it by his lowly bed,
For he did love so passiug well
The grand songs of the solemn sea.
O shell, sing well, wild, with a will,
Wheu storms blow loud and birds be still,
The wildest sea-song known to that*!
I said some things with folded hands,
Soft whisper’d in the dim, sea sound,
And eyes held humbly to tho ground,
And frail knees knit in the Warm Sands,
lie had done more than this for me,
And yet I could not well do more!
The Vengeance of an Indian Girl.
A singular case of jealousy,
which recently occurred in western
Texas, is given in the El Paso Her
ald. It seem that a young man
named Chandros, a native of Roch
ester, in England, had made love to
a beautiful half breed girl, sixteen
year of age. The girl was half Ap
ache and half French In addition
to iter great beauty, she was intel
ligent, vivacious, and as active and
alert as an antelope. Site was gen
tle and affectionate, and no one sus
pected Iter of possessing the terri
ble passions which jealousy subse
quently aroused in her bosom.
The English lover unfortunately
became acquainted with a white
girl named Wilson, who was on a
visit from a Southern State to her
friends in western Texas. Miss
"Wilson was beautiful and accom
plished, and her civilized graces
proved more than a match for the
barbarous attractions of the Apa
che girl.
The result was that Chandros de
serted the beautiful half-breed, aud
became engaged to Miss Wilson.—
The wedding day was set. On hear
ing of the faithlessness of her lover,
tiie hitherto undeveloped instincts
of her Apache blood were roused
to all their savage fury in tiie breast
of the untutored belle of the for
est. Arming herself with a revol
ver, she went to the residence of
her lover, crept softly to his room,
and shot hint through the heart, as
he was. writing a note to his betroth
ed. She was arrested a few hours
afterward, and confined for tiie
night in an old log cabin, in default
of a prison. But her friends res
cued her, and she fled to the wilder
ness, there to take up her abode
with her mother’s wild kindred.
Tho friends of [?ev. C. R.
Jewett, Pastor of the Methodist
Church, will be pleased to learn
that he is recovering froip his re
cent severe attack—congestion of
the lungs.— Thomasville Enter
prise.
What audacity is to love and
boldness to war, tiie skillful use of
printer’s ink is to success in busi
ness.”*— Henry Ward Beecher.
—r Somebody has written a book
entitled “What shall my son be ? ’*
Upon which sonic one replies : “ If
tiie boy is as bad as tiie book, the
chances arc that he will be hanged.”
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, AUGUST 4, 1871.
[For the Cuthbert Appeal.]
A TRUE STORY,
IJY HABBELTINE.
’Twas on the 3d of October, 1835,
that little Ella first opened her eye ß ,
upon _the of nature. Her
tiny form as It lay wrapped in soft
swaddling clothes, impressed the
mind, With both the helplessness of
infancy, and the wisdom, and good
•ess of the Great Unseen. The fa
ther, as-on bended knees, he renew
ed his vows to God, that he would
bring up this precious little jewel
(the fifth which.had blessed his un
ion,) “in the nurture and admoni
tion of the Lord,” had feelings of
a peculiar nature. Why he should
have a presentiment of trouble with
the little one, and why the pale
mother should look sad, and ex
claim, “poor little thing,” when
her languid eyes rested upon the
form of “little Ella,” is explained,
when we tellyofi. that already, suf
fering was seen on • the face of the
dear little creature. She Was in
deed a “ poor little thing,” for her
weight was only six pounds.
Hays grew into weeks, and still
the household was saddened with
the low, moaning voice, of the * sick
babe. At the expiration of a few
weeks, the mother, growing stub
derily and dangerously sick, her
friends Stood around her bed-side
awaiting the summons o| the pale
messenger, but,
1 ‘ God moves in a mysterious way,
Ilis wonders to perform.”
For months she fingered upon
the threshhold of the grave, but
when at length, she partially recov
ered, it became evident to* ail, that
• her shattered and enfeebled consti
tution, required that she should sur
render to another, a mother’s dear
est privilege and holiest duty. The
important office of furnishing nour
ishment for the wee-baby, was as
signed to a negro woman of. the
family. She being of an amiable
disposition, and possessing a gener
ous soul, would, when failing to
give sufficient nutriment for both
children, put her own on coarse
diet, reserving tiie most suitable for
“ little Ella.” Time passed on; and
the mother, as each day she grew
stronger, longed for tho happy priv
ilege of nursing her own child; but
feeling that there were higher du
ties, which only a mother could
perform, and that she should by
every possible means, prolong her
own fife, yielded to the care of an
other, the babe over which her
heart yearned, with unutterable ten
derness. As-time moved slowly on,
“little Ella” grew gradually worse.
Tiie food given her, instead of a
benefit,' proved an injury. At
length she grew so weak that she
was carried on piltbws.' The anx
ious mother could no longer deny
herself the entire care of her child,
but. with it folded closely within
her arms, she would walk, hour af
ter hour, in vain efforts to cease its
frettings.
Going into a dark parlor, with
tears streaming down her ehecks,
she would frequently walk the floor
for half a night without cessation,
singing soft, soothing lullaby’s to
her sick babe. Day after day, and
night after night, the devoted moth
er nursed her, child. A mother’s
love ! Oh 1 who' cars fathom' a moth
er’s love, in its purity and devotion ?
At length the faithful mother was
rewarded for her care, in seeing
“little Ella” more quiet. She grew
better each day; and ere long, the
bright eye and rosy cheek told a
tale of health. Happiness was
again restored to the afflicted family;
and soon “ little Ella ” became a
well-spring of joy in the household.
W hen sho was about a year old, it
became necessary for her father to
move down the country. Mrs. G.
kdowing the inconvenience of trav
eling with children, and fearing the
result of a change of nurses for her
babe, opposed the proposition of
her husband. But circumstances
control us all, and so it was in the
case of Mr. G.
All things being ready, on a calm
September morning, Mr. G. with
his family set out on his journey*
southward. Nothing remarkable’
occurred on the journey. “Little
Ella ’ fretted for a few days for
the nurse she had left behind, but
before they arrived at the point of
destination, she was as contented as
ever.
Mr. G. settled in a frontier coun
try. A person might travel for
miles, without seeing any evidence
whatever, that the foot of man had
ever trod the soil. The family at"
noon-day, being startled, by the cry
of the panther, and the howl of the
wolf, would run into the house, bar
the door, and prepare for a contest,
with the wild beasts of the wood,
but like modern persons of rough
character, they* fled from the march
of civilization. Things moved on
quietly for several mouths, when at
length one day, Mr. G. came run
ning to the house, screaming, “ the
Indians are coming.” Iu a. few min
utes the family had deserted the
house, carrying with them their most
valuable things. For a whole day,
they wandered in the woods, with
out a mouthful of food; for in
their fright they had forgotten to
provide themselves with this neces
sary article.
Towards night they heard a heavy
footfall in the forest beyond.—
Their hearts beat fiercely, tor they
felt that they were soon to be tie
voured by some wild animal, or
would suffer violence at the hand
of the ferocious Indians. Their
fears were soon allayed by the
voice of the husband and father, as
he asked in a tremulous voice, “are
you all safe? ” “ Thank heaven*
my loved ones are all here,” involun
tarily escaped his lips. “Come”
said he, “ we will all return home,
■ take food, and set out on our jour
ney to a fort, which has been pre
pared for the safety of the women
and children.” “Little Ella” seem
ed to have caught the idea that si
lence was necessary, for all day
long she slept in the arms of her
devoted nurse.
Returning immediately to their
home, and hurriedly prspaviug food
for the journey, they began their
march for the fort which was thir
teen miles distant. This wasa night
loiig to be remembered by this dis
tressed family. Even “ Little Ella”
grew impatient, and moved restless
ly in her father’s arms, whose sus
pense grew into agony, lest her fret
tings would attract the attention of
the red men of the forest, or draw
some wild beast from his'dark den.
When the first streak of the dawn
ing day appeared, this weary and
frightened family were three miles
from Fort Gaines. “Little Ella”
had fallen asleep, and for several
hditrs after they Were safely placed
within the fort she slept the sweet
sleep of innocent childhood. To
the quiet, refined family of Mr. G.,
the scene within the Walls was im
pressively sad. Some of the in
mates were screaming, some pray
ing, some cursing, and some in
frantic intoxication.
Mrs. G., as she heard the w’ar
whoop, of the maddened Indians,
and their threats to burn the fort,
raised her eyes to heaven, and se
cretly implored the protection of the
God of all good. Knowing that
His care was over her always, and
that He rode upon the storm, and
amid the tempest, she felt that at
His command, “ Peace he still,” all
would be well.
Oh, what a soothing influence a
living faith hath on the human soul!
It calms the troubled sea of life,
and prepares us to battle with the
ills to which flesh is heir.
For several months the war
raged fiercely between the whites
and Indians. At last the w'hites
succeded in driving them from the
country.
During their stay in the fort, the
suspense in which Mrs. G. remain
ed concerning her husband, (who
all the time was fighting nobly to
free his country from the ravages
of the Indians,) told terribly on her
constitution. She looked pale and
careworn, but “Little Ella ” was
delighted with the friends she had
made in the fort; .
Mr. G., seeing the condition of
his wife, determined to remove her.'
as soon as he thought it safe for her
to return home. lie did so, and
the Ist of May found her quietly
domiciled in her neat little hut, on
the hillside*
The scene which met the eye, as
one passed through the country,
beggars description. All along the
road was seen women and children
murdered in a most brutal manner
Some were scalped, and others cut
about the body, and bruised most
shockingly. Now, and then, would
be seen, little infants with their
brains dashed out agaiust a tree,
with an arm or leg' torn from the
body. Th e smouldering ashes
marked the place where once stood
the home of plenty and content
ment. The poor Indian ! He ad
hered closely to his characteristics ;
but were we too, not to blame ? He
was driven from a country, which
he had explored with his own valor
and sagacity. •
Mr. G., being still from home in
search of straggling Indians, left
his family alone, and in .great sus
pense. His wife, fearing that some
revengeful Indian might, in his
•wanderings, find his way to her
home, never allowed a light kindled
after dark, but would, .with her
faithful servant, take the children
as the day drew to its close, and
prepare for their night’s lodging,
between the cotton rows, or in some
dark cluster of bushes.
After so l#ng a time the country
became quiet, and peace and plenty
filled the land. The neighborhood
in which Mr. G. lived, soon became
thickly settled with energetic, edu- ,
cated men. Mr. G.’s attention was
now called to the fact,.that he was
sadly neglecting the education of his
children ; so, together with several
of his most influential neighbors,
he built a school house, and employ
ed a teacher.
By this time “little Ella” had
grown into her ninth year, and gave
promise of a bright future. For
several years her father employed
teachers at the old log school house;
but the two older girls, having ar
rived to the propei age, were sent ,
to Scotsborough, near Milledgeville,
and placed under the care ot' Mr.
H. After having for several years
enjoyed superior educational advan
tages, at this- most excellent school,
they returned home, well-fitted for
society.
All this time “-little Ella” was
progressing rapidly in her- studies
She had grown so tall that she was
no longer called “ little Ella,” but
Ella Dean. She continued at the
old field school, until she had reach
ed her fourteenth year. Sho was
then sent to S., and placed, under
the superintendence of Mi;, M. E.
Ik, President of one of the first
colleges in the State. Here she
was the pride of Jier teachers in
point of mind, but growing up a
petted, high-spimed girl, she gave
them much trouble in her deport
ment. She believed that everything
ought to succumb to her wishes. —
During her second year in the col
lege, she was providentially taught
by a most pious - man. Being a deep
student of human character, and
feeling that in no other way could
he control "Ella Dean, he adopted an
entire course of moral suasion. Fre
quently he would let an act of in
tentional disobedience pass by ■utt'
noticed, at times would reprove
mildly, and again would request an
interview in his private parlor, after
sctiool, and with tears in his eyes,
affectionately correct her faults, and
before the throne of God implore
the Holy Spirit to guide and direct
this wayward child. These disin
terested acts of a teacher she so
much loved, led her mind into a dif
ferent channel, and she soon learn
ed that others, as well as herself,
had rights and privileges which
ought to be respected. The year soon
drew to its close, but not without
Ella Dean becoming a wiser and
better girl. The succeeding year
she was removed to a college nearer
home, and iu the following July,
having graduated, she entered the
broad arena of life a refined, intelli-.
gent young lady.
Being young and -innocent, she
formed no idea of the trials ahead ;
but was buoyant, with the hope of
a bright future. Poor, unsuspect
ing creature ! Happy for you that
the dark future, was hidden from
view by a cloud with a silver lining.
During her last term at school,
sho beeame acquainted with an intel
ligent, noble young man, in whom
her feelings had become interested.
Sho knew that lie loved her with an
undying devotion, but being aware
of her father’s views of marriage,
and fearing opposition from him,
she made every effort within her
[lower to resist that love for Henry
W ., which she felt eaCh day grow
stronger. There was no longer
denying the fact; she loved. A
woman loves but once, and when
the flame of love is kindled within
hev breast,
“ She loves on and loves forever,
Unchanging as tne truths ol heaven ”
'This was an important era in the
life of Ella Dean. In spite of ev
ery straggle to subdue her feelings
for “ Henry/’ she still loved. She
now knew that she would meet with
opposition from her father; for she
had recently heard him remark that
his daughter should never marry a
man, whose family was beneath-her
own, in society. Unfortunately for
Ella, the family cf her lover did not
occupy the same position in the so-*
cial world as did that of Mr. G.—
Through a mifcual friend, they car
ried on a regular correspondence ;
in fact bad exchanged photographs.
There was a lady boarding in the
family, who professed great friendi
ship .for Ella Dean. Suspecting
that something serious was going
on, she, one day, by means of a
false key, unlocked Ella’s trunk and
found both letters and photograph.
She immediately carried, then, to
Mrs. G., who, like a dutiful wife,
turned them over to her husband
for inspection. They were careful
ly pewsed and laid again in the
trunk.
When Ella returned, her first
thought was to examine her sweet
mementoes of love. She found them
sho-thought, all right. Alas, poor
Ella ! Little do you know of the
storni that is threatening the hori
zon of your love. She went out to
visit some of her young friends in
the afternoon, and as was her cus
tom when she returned, went in
search of her father. She found
him lying on a sofa in the' parlor,
with a careworn face. She caress
ingly van her fingers through his
sort hair, and tried, -but in vain, to
engage his thoughts. She felt that
something was wrong, but for the
life of her, could not imagine what
it was. After supper her father re
quested that she should take a
moonlight walk. With quickened
ptdse, Ella followed her father in
the garden.
“My daughter,” said he, “I have
heard that yon have an intention ot
marrying Henry W. Can it be true
that you so far forget yourself and
family, as to encourge the attention of
such a low bred fellow ! I am shock
ed, I am astounded at such prp
•sumption in-thc man.” AtfirstElla
waived her fathers questions, but
when aslied for direct answers,
would not speak .at all. Mr. G. be
coming enraged, spoke in a harsh
manner to his daughter, making se
vere threats as to what he would
do, if the matter progressed any
farther 1 .
Never having her father to speak
so unkindly to her before, and feel
ing that he was doing violence to
her own affections, and the love of
a man whom she know was in posses
sion of noble, generous principles,
combined with great Christian integ
rity, Ella, although she spoke not
a w'ord, vowed eternal fidelity to
the man she loved. After the inter
view she returned to her room, and
(woman-like) cried for several
hours. At first she was fully deter
mined in her mind to marry Henry
W., at all hazards, but being con
scientious, and feeling that it was
her duty to sacrifice her feelings
rather than wound the hearts of her
parents, she made up her mind to
think no more of “ Henry.” A
deep cairn succeeded this sudden
storm, that had fallen from a sum
mer sky. A step like this is never
taken without suffering; Ella G.
made known to her lover, the wish
i es of her father, the request
that he would never allude to the
subject again.
In a few months, Ella Dean Was
addressed by an intelligent, refined
young gentleman, whose family oc
cupied a higher station in life, Feel-,
ing that life in any phase,, was a
misery, she with the reluctant con
sent of liea* parents, was wedded to
another* than the man she loved.—
Language is insufficient to express
the, commotion of her bospm, when,
she returned the letters, ami pho
tograph to the only man she ever
loved with a true womanly lov'o.—
They never met after the interview
between father and daughter, fop
grief weighed .so heavily upon his
noble spirit, that ere a year had
passed, he was resting sweetly in
the grave, and his pure soul had
passed “That bourne, from which
no traveler returns, Where the wick
ed cease !o trouble, aud the weary
are at rest.”
Behind a frowning providence
God hides a smiling face.”
This is true in the history of El
la Heau. Ofteu nyw, as she aifcsf
musing, with a group of happy
children around her, some budding
into womanhood, her thoughts re
vert to tfie unhappy past, and she
thanks God that lie afflicted her.—
After surrendering her love to the
pleasure of. a parent, she took no
delight in society. Iler heart was
ever reaching out, for something
pure and substantial. Believing
that all earth was emptiness and
vanity,she laid up treasures iu heav
en. But for this dispensation of a
wise providence, she would have
been a mere lady of society devoid
of all those virtues which aloneren
der woman noble and good. She
presides over her household, with
tenderness and love, and is ever,
mindful of her husbands happiness.
She does all within her power to
cast every shadow from - his brow.
A woman can love from association,
and a sense of duty, but in the
heart of woman, bereft of her first
love, there is a vacuum which she
is longing to have filled.
How ntany of my fair readers
agree with me in the assertion that
“Woman loves but once.”
Death and the Grave.
A FAJiI.E.
I am hungry, said the Grave.—
Give me food. '
Death answered : . -
• I will send forth a minister of avf
ful destruction, • and you shall be
satisfied.
Wbat minister will you send ?
I will send alcohol. He shall go
in the guise of food and medicine,
pleasure and hospitality. The peo
pie shall drink uud jdie.
And the grave answered :
I am content.
And now the church bells begin
to toll,, and the mournful procession
to advance.
Who ,are they bringing now?
said the Grave,
Ah, said Death they are bring
ing a household. The drukert fath
er aimed a?- blow at his- wife, lie
killed the mother arid her child to
gether, then dashed out his own life.
And who, said the Grave, comes
next, followed by a train of weep
ing children?
This is a broken-hearted woman,
who has long pined away in want,
while her husband has wasted his
substance at the tavern And he
too is borne behind, killed by the
band of violence.
And who next?
A young man of generous impul
ses, \\‘ho stey by step, became dis
sipated, and squandered liis all
My agent turned him out to be fro
zen in the street.
Hush! said the Grave; now I
hear a wail of anguish that will not
by silenced. , ,
Yes, it is the widow’s cry. It'ls
the only son of his mother'. lie
spurned her love, feviled her warn
ing* and a bloated corpse he comes
to thee. And thus they come—fur
ther than the eye can reach the
procession crowds to thy dark
abodes. And still lured by the en
chanting cup which I have mingled, .
the sons of men crowd tire paths
of dissipation. Vainly they dream
of escape, but I shut behind them
the invisible door of destiny. They
know it not, and with song aud
dance and riuty they hasten to.thee,
O Grave ! Then I throw tny fatal
spell upon the new throngs of youth,
and soon they, too, will be with thee.
— Exeliange .
They Say. —“ They Say ”• is a
nuisance. He is forever making
mischief. Forever poking his nose
into somebody’s business. Forever
vilifying somebody’s character.—
Forever doing something mean.
We suspect “They Say” has ruined
about as many people as whisky and
the faro-bank.
“They Say” is a snake in the
grass. Professing the warmest
friendship to your facehe vilely tra
duces you behind your back—not
in the first person singular, bo it re
membered for he is too crafty for
that, but he retails, with Aminidab
Sleek like sorrow* wbat other peo
ple say of you—in short “They
Say.”
“ They. Say ”is a humbug. Tear
off the hypocritical mask he wears
and you shall see, very often, base-:
ness and knavery of the blackest
kind. Sometimes,, we admit, “They
Say ” is weak iniuded, and slanders
people more through ignorance and
thoughtlessness than a wish to de
stroy their good name, but he is
none the less a nuisance for that,
and God help his victims in cither
case.
The Solvent for Doubt.
Your question to me, “What is
the best book for me to study on
the evidences, of Christianity tp put
at rest'my dpubts?” indicates that
von arc acqmiinted with the divine
specific for skepticism.
“ I remember once being fog
bound on the Sault St, Marie. For
a while we kept on, though very
slowly. A man stationed at the
Itow the w out, thre' sounding-line ev
ery few moments, and reported the
depth of water to the pilot. But
the water grew shallow, and finally*
we dropped anchor, and, likp Paul’s
fellow-voyagers of old, “wishing for
day'/ v Your sounding-fine, my dear
Thomas, may keep you off the shore,
but it will never give you clear
skies and a plain course. Your
light must come from above, not
from below.
All intellectual methods for the
solution of religions doubts and
difiieultiies are necessarily exceed
ingly slow, aud rarely satisfactory.
I have had a good deal to do with
unbelievers ami skeptics, and I have
never known one outside the books
convinced by 7 pure reason. We
laugh at tlifj. folly, of the idiot boy
who borrowed a yard-stick of a
neighbor to measure the length of
half an hour, but the world is full
of would-be wise men, who are re
peating a similar operation in en
deavoring to test, spiritual truths,
not by spiritual, but by mathemat
ical and scientific measurements.—
What should you think of a man
who should undertake to determine
the value,of one of Raphael’s paint
ings by a chemical analysis of the
canvas and the pigments ?
The best evidence of Christianity
is-Christianity—what it is, what it
has done, what it is doing for oth
ers; and better by far, what it is
doing, and will do, if you will give
it a fair trial, for yourself. Christ’s
is a true way for the solution of
your doubts. Take that which is
clear in the Bible, that which Ren
an and Theodore Parker recom
mend; follow that unquestioningly
and unhesitatingly, arid a light will
come. Ido not say that you will
be led to my creed ; but you will
be led to substantial truth, to all
that is needful for a useful Chris
tian life. "
You remember, I am sure, onr
mutual friend, deacon Donns, and
I do not believe you ,would guess
that he was ever troubled by skep
ticism, unless you happen to have
heard him tell the story of its cure.
“When I was a yonng man,” said
he, telling the story to me, “I was,
or thought, a great skeptic. I was
thoroughly posted in skeptical liter
ature, and thought I could tackle
any divine on theology ; did tackle
them, too pretty often, an*l was al
ways pretty w T ell satisfied with the
result. One day I jvent to hear Dr.
B. preach. There was an inquiry
meeting after church. I stayed; I
was not altogether easy or comfort
able, and I flattered -myself that 1
really wanted to be a Christian, but
that the creed was in my way.—
When Dr. 15. came to me with the
inquiry, “Well, young man, what
can I do for you ?” I stated my dif
ficulty at once.’
“I would like to be a Christian,
doctor,” said I, “but can’t accept
your doctrine of the atonement. I
can’t see how one man can suffer for
another, or how there is either jus
tice or mercy in punishing the inno
cent for the guilty.”
“There are some things a groat
deal more important for you, young
man, than to understand the atone
ment,” said the doctor.
“llow is that ?” said I; “I
thought the atonement was the fun
damental doctrine of the church.”
“Sq it is,” said the doctor, “but
life,is more important than any doc
trino. Thou slmlt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart, and
soul, and strength. Do you do
that?”
“N no,” said I.
“Thou shalt love thy neighbor as
thyself—as thyself,” repeated the
doctor, with emphasis. “Do you
do that?”
“N-no,” said I.
“Very well,” said the doctor, “be
gin—change your life, change your
heart; stop living for yourself; live
for God and humanity.”
“But the Christians don’t do that/
said I.
“NTever you mind the Christians/
said the doctor. ‘’Take care of
yourself. My word for it, you wont
give the experiment a fair trial for
a week, without Coming to the con
clusion that you need an atoning
Savior, an inspired Bible, and a di
vine living power working in your
heart and fife, revolutionizing the
one and remodeling the other.”
“It was the first argument,” said
the deacon, when be told me the
story, “that I ever fnet, for which
I had no answer. I did try the ex
periment, and I have never Jiad any
difficulty about the atonement
since.”
Depend upon it, a Christian life
is the only unfailing crucible for the
solution -of religious doubts.
A man Ims invented anew and
cheap plan for boarding. One of
his lodgers mesmerizes the rest, and
then eats a hearty meal —the mes
merized being satisfied from sympa
thy.
“O, grandma ?” cried a mis
chievous little urchin, “I cheated
the hens so nicely just now. I threw
them your gold beads, and they
thought they were corn and they
ate them up as fast as they could .
A pretender to the crown—A
chignon.
NO. 82
VARIETY.
A bad thing for people tft
summjer —To have “speculation I*
their ice.’’
We have often met with X
sends but never with X-streams,-=*
Still extremes will meet sometittedt
A quack doctor lias itivtrflfcd
a medicine of such fentarkable ttf*
tue that jt will citre a, ham.
A joint affair with but a sin
' gle party to it—Rheumatism.
Make yourself a useful man,
and then you may be sure that there
is one rascal less in the worldi
A beautiful woman is like .A
great truth, or a great happiness,
and has no more right to cover her
self with a green veil or any simi
lar abomination, thail the sun hftff
to wear green spectacles.
A writer asks, through the
farmer’s department of an exchange,
if any one can inform a poor malt
as to the best way to start a tittle
nursery? Why, by getting married
of course!
» A country paper tells of ft
smart wife that helped her husband
to raise seventy acres of wheati—
The way she helped him was to
stand in the doorway and shake ft
broom at him when he sat down to
rest.
A few moment’s conversation
will persuade one whether or not a
person be .cultured in mind, but it
requires a much closer acquaintance ’
to discover if he possess soul cul
ture. . t t . ;.
A woman suffrage lecturer in
lowa calls upon all her sisters to
forget that there is such a thing AA
modesty, and go in for their rights.
lt is said that there are no
friendship between women so strong
that one good looking man is not
able to break up.
Why is a baker a most-improv- ’
ident person ? Because he is contin
ually selling that which he kneads
himself.
“Mamma,” said a little boy who
had*been sent to dry a towel be-,
fore the fire, “is it dry When it
is brown.”
A Cleveland raercbantlately re
ceived a package labeled “ 1 box
Tom Cats.” It took him some time
to decipher the fact that the inscrip
tion meant a box of tomato catsup.
A well-known South Boston man
is very fond of frogs. He came
home witli a bag full the other day,
and, after eating a dozen found out
that they were toads. - ( . ; .r
A great and learned atheist i
once met a plain countryman going
to church. He asked him—“ Where,
are you going?” ‘« ’ 1
“To church, sir.”
“What to do there ?” ■ mi
“To worship God.” \
“Pray, is vour God a great or
little God ?” *
“He is both, sir ?”
“Flow can ho be both?”
“He is so great ? sir, that the heav
en of heavens cannot contain Him,
and so little that be can dwell in
my poor heart.”
The atheist declared that thl<i
simple answer oi the countryman I
had more effect upon his mind than
all the volumes the learned doctors
had written upon the subject.
Deaths from Drink.— Dr. Ed- *
ward Jarvis, the statistician of the t
General Life Insurance Company of
London, furnishes the following |
statement, as showing the deaths
of persons who are intemperate as
compared with an equal number of
persons of temperate habits. Ho
says that if 100,000 intemperate
persons be taken from fifteen to
seventy years of age, and an equal
number of corresponding ages who
are not intemperate, thirty two of
the former will die as often as ten
of the latter. Out of 100,000 of
each 16,907 of the intemperate will
he dead before fifty years of age,
but of those who are not intemper
ate 4,266 only will be dead. Erom
fifty years to sixty the comparative
number of deaths wiH be 6,448 and
2,254, and from sixty years to.sev-"
enty, they will be 45,174 and 32,280.
Here is an argument ad rem. which
should be much more potential than
any prohibitory laws to check the
suicidal growth of habits whose fa
tal results are thus mathematically
demonstrated.
Tiie New Crystal Palace.—
The Industrial exhibition company
chartered by the last New York
Legislature embracing among its
officers Marshal O, Roberts, Wm. B,
Ogden, Moses H. Grinnell, Cyrus W.
Field and others, has secured a site
for its new crystal palace, embracing
twenty-three acres, or four full
blocks, at the corner of Fourth Av
enue and Onellundreth Street, New ,
York. The Palace of Industry will
be built all around the plat of
ground to the depth of 150 feet,
leaving in the centre a court of 11
acres. This will he covered with
glass and form a horticultural gaf
gen. The building Will bo eight
stories high. A series of prizes,
ranging from $15,000 down to
$1,500 will be given for the six best
plans. One primary object of tho
organization is to diffuse a love for
art among the masses. The com
pleted institution is to be able to
accommodate 7-0,000 persons at one
time. %