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®*w glia
VOL. V.
THE APPEAL.
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REMOVAL!
PLANTERS WAREHOUSE !
WE now have the pleasure of informing
the planters of Randolph and adjacent
connties, that E. McDonald haserected anew,
large and Commodious Warehouse, on depot
Street, south side of and near the public square.
The location being more central and near the
business part of the city, will enable us to of
fer many more inducements to tile planting
public than heretofore —where ice will he
pleased to meet with onr numerous old plant
ing friends and customers besides many, many
new ones.
We have ample arrangements for the recep
tion and
Storaje of Cotton ni Ms.
Thankful lor past favors, we hope, with in
creased advantages and personal attention, to
give general satisfaction and merit a liberal
Satrouage. The latest published Commercial
lews will at all times be at the service of our
friends and patrons.
Liberal cash advances made on cotton and
goods In store.
Consignments Solicited.
Personal attention given to (tie sale of
Cotton, Bagging, Ties, Salt, Guano, Thresh
ing Machines,, Cotton Gins, Wagons,
Buggies, Harness, &c.. &c.
Plantation supplies furnished at lowe. t mar
ket prices.
W a von yard, well, rooms, fire places, fur
nished teamsters free.
We are looking forward with pleasure to
the speedy completion of two new Kail Iload
'thoroughfares to our city, which will doubt
less cause a great reduction in freights, there
by enhancing the value ot cotton and making
.our mat ket second to none in the interior.
Planters, look to your lute est and bri"g
your cotton to Cuthbert.
e. McDonald & co.
augS-4m
ANDREW
Female College,
cuthbert ga.
THE exercises of this institution will be
resumed on Wednesday, the 20th of Sep
tember next, and close on Thursday before the
last Sabbath in June.
The scholastic year will be divided into
Three Terms, beginning SOtll September, Ist.
January and Istol April:
REGULAR COURSE:
I’ER TERM. PEU ANNUM.
Primary Department sl2 00 S3O 00
Preparatory 15 00 45 00
■Collegiate “ 20 00 00,00
4)iplouia Fee, (paid on
graduat’ng) SS(O
Incidentals 100
Hoard, Washing, Fuel
and Lights, 13 00
Regular tuition of daughters living hv the
ministry—no charge.
Each boarding pupil should be tttrnished
With a Bible, Trunk, one pair of sheets, one
pair of Pillow-cases, oue pair Blankets, four
Itand-Towels, over-shoes and umbrella.
EXTRA COURSE:
PER ANNUM.
Greek audFrenclt, each S4O 00
Tuition in Music 00 00
Use of Piano 8 00
Drawing and Pastel _ 30 00
Instruciioa in Oi 1 Paintiug, 40 00
Calisthenics, conducted by a
lady » 3 0°
Singing in Classes No charge
Extra course pursued at the option ot Pa
rents and Guardians. Payments must he made
in October, January aud April.
Each pupil should be present a 1 the opening
of the School.
The undersigned having been elected Presi
dent of Andrew Female College, an old and
popular Institution, sends fraternal greetings
to the Colleges of the South, makes his bow
<o the public, and solicits sympathy aud a lib
-eral share of patronage.
•Summoned to a high and holy work—that
of preparing the mindsand hearts of the you g
for the business and pleasures, joys and sor
rows of life—he wil! call to his assistance
ithe best educators of the countrv, and address
himself to the task with all the zeal and in
dustry that he can command. Should time,
whose verdict we woo, demonstrate that lie
caunot preside with dignity and success—
(that he is incapable of imparting instruction —
shat he is is not in the proper place—that A.
3<\ C. does not return a substantial equivalent
"to its patrons—tbe President will abandon
/he enterprise aud refund all damages reli
giously assessed.
Parents and guardians wishing to educate
girls should not forget our healthful locality,
refined society, commodious and well ventila
jLed buildings, beautiful grounds, magnificent
.grove, and reasonable rates.
* JOHN B McGEHEE,
President A F. C.
Cuthbert, Ga., Aug. 16th, 1871, ts
The City Bar
AND
milliard Saloon
IS now supplied with a Large and Choice
Stock of
Wines, Liquors and Segars,
Both Foreign and Domestic, which can not
J>e surpassed by any Bar in the State.
All the delicacies of the season, in the way
of Fancy Drinks, fixed in style.
LAGER BEER only Five Cents per glass.
SNUFF & TOBACCO,
BY THE JAR AND BOX
Very Low, at
ALLISCN & SIMPSON’>S.
CUTHBERT li§| APPEAL.
From tbe N. Y. Leader.
The Fire.
BY HUGH P. Mc’dKRMOTT,
Hush, hark, that knell !
What means that bell ?
That rousing swell ?
It dies, it sinks in parted links.
Again it thrills ! Again it fills !
Waking, shaking, leaping higher,
Hoarse and deep with embodied fire.
See that smoke ! See that clond !
Darker, denser, wider growing,
Rising, tailing, searching, blowing.
Again that stroke ! See that crowd !
Rushing, pushing, shouting yelling,
Love to savejeach bosom swelling—
Swelling, swelling, swelling.
Place the engine ! Seize the hose !
Let the water boldly float
On the fiendish fiery foes,
And the engine puli'her throat.
0 the flames! O the flames !
Winding, wafting, twisting, turning,
Crackiug, scliorcbing, blazing, burning !
Burning, burning, burning!
Hear those names! Hear those claims!
Save me. father! Save me, mother !
Sister, save me! Save me, brother!
O hear our angel baby's cry !
No more. Its lips in ashes lie.
Raise the stream! Raise the stream !
Pure love and life are sinking, failing!
Midst seas of flame there’s loud bewailing,
Whilst darling hearts the walls are scaling’*
Sealing, sculi.ig, scaling!
Hark, that cry! Hear that sigh!
O that scream' Horrors teem !
Mailed in might, stout hearts are wielding
. Axes bright, from danger shielding
Life’s last throbs nigh before they die.
Hush—that crash ! Gods, that crash 1
Madly rising tearing, dashing.
Wildly flouncing, flaring, flashing,
Red flumes lash the broken sash.
Hatk, hark, within—a breath, a din !
Groaning, moaning, clinging, grasping,
Lite on fire, a fireman clasping !
Clasping, clasping, clasping!
Such love of kin should glory wiu.
Now, now you sec the flames are fr-eo !
Spouting, spreading, waving soaring,
Plunging, tossing raging, roaring,
In one hot sea of dread decree,
The high-raised throws frofn spurting hose’
Tending, bending warping, winding,
Seeking, chasing, meeting, blinding,
Each blast that blows from fiery foes.
O God, that wall! That prayer, that fall!
Ruin, wreck and desolation,
Ravage, waste and devastation,
Spreads Death’s sad pall dark over all.
Was it a beam, or brick or stone
Tore here the flesh, broke there a bone ?
Matted and moiled floats here and there,
Clotted with blood, a tuft of hair.
Look on that head ! See where the beam
Bared to the scalp, and round the seam,
Uprooted, loose, flyiug away,
Hair by hair wherever it may.
That lurid glare! That ghastly siare!
Bruisad, maimed aud gashed, soilded,
stained and broken,
Os former looks scarce left a token.
Could those lips speak, how they could tell
Os direful woe and fortune fell!
For mother's grief those eyes have shed ,
For brother’s pain that still heart bled.
As on that shattered form I gaze,
Where deepening gloom emits its rays,
Where life tnay linger, yet i? not,
1 waver in man’s future lot.
On that brow a thought is moulded :
On those lips a word lies folded ;
immortal word—immortal thought?
Whatseraph fleet the whisper caught?
Wbat now is light, or gloom or earth or
air,
To that wild stare ?
Or friend or foe. or joy or woe,
Or frown or smile, or trust or guile,
To that dead glare ?
Truth rests but in the tomb.
Letters of Recommenda
tion.
A gentleman advertised for a boy
to assist him in his office, and near
ly fifty applicants presented them
selves to him. Out of the whole
number, he, in a short time, selec
ted one and dismissed the rest.
“I should like to know,” said a
friend, “on what ground you select
ed that boy, who had not a single
recommendation.”
“You are mistakcu,” said the
gentleman; “he had a great may.—
lie wiped his feet when he came in,
aud closed the door after him, show
ing that he was careful. lie gave
up his seat instantly to that lame
old man, showing that he was kind
aud thoughtful. He took oflf his
cap when he came in, and answered
my questions promptly and respect
fully, showing that he was polite
and gentlemanly, lie picked up
the book which I had purposely
laid upon the floor, and replaced it
on the table, while all the rest step
ped over it or shoved it aside, and
he waited quietly for his turn in
stead of pushing and crowding,
showing that he was honest and or
derly. When I talked with him I
noticed that his hair was in nice
order, and teeth as white as milk;
and when he wrote his name I no
ticed that his finger nails, were
clean, instead of being tipped with
jet, like that handsome little fellow’s
in the bluejacket. Don’t you call
those things letters of recommenda
tion ? I do, and would give more
for wbat J cap tell about a boy by
using my eyes ten minutes than all
the fiue letters he can bring me.”
Provision in season makes a rich
bouse.
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 1871.
THE BIRIVmG WOODS.
Thrilling Narrative of a Wiscon
sin Refugee.
A Flight for Life Through a
Flaming Forest—Death Strug
gle with a Maniac—A Rain of
Fire—The Rescue.
Green Bay, Wis., October 14.
In company with other people
who had been driven from their
homes in the interior of the State
by the dreadful fires of the preceed
ing week and more, I reached this
city last Wednesday, hoping to find
my husband, from whom I bad be
come separated in the woods when
the smoke was so thick that it was
impossible for us to see each other
when we were a few feet apart. *
* * It seems strange to me, now
that I can recall so vividly all that
passed during that frightful after
noon and the night which followed
it, and yet it is all impressed on my
mind in colors which can never be
obliterated. But perhaps I am be
begilining at the wrong end of my
story, which you must not expect
to find at all artistic or elaborate.
Indeed, I would not have written
it at all had not Mr. Wilson, who
has so kindly cared for me since my
arrival at Green Bay, told me
that I ought to let the people
know what hardships hundreds and,
as I hear, thousands of men and
women and even poor little innocent
children have undergone up here in
the Northwest, for both he and I
believe that, in some respects, my
misery was paralleled by that of
others.
***- ■ * *
On the morning of the 11th of
this month, just as we were siting
dowu at breakfast, Mr. Richardson,
|i neighbor of ours, came running
into the house and told Mr. Meeh
and that he must come out imme
diatcly and sec what could he dono.
During the night the wind had ris
en, but not so greatly as to amount
to anything like a gale, but rather
did it resemble the ordinary fall
wind. Mr Mechand did not seem
at all uneasy, and leisurely swallow
ed his breakfast before following
Mr. Richardson, who had disappear
ed as soon as he had stuck his head
into the room and called my hus
band. Mr. Mechand went into the
woods and stayed till about noon,
when he came running back and
said that he had climbed up to the
top of Brown’s Hill, where the wind
was blowing a gale, and from there
had seen the fire which was com
ing toward us at a tremendous pace.
Indeed I had feared as much and
had been exceedingly uneasy all the
morning, for the smoke which for
days had been in the valley where
we lived had become more and
more dense, and occasionally hot
putts of wind had blown over the
hills, driving the smoke in a dense
cloud before it. I asked my hus
band if he thought there was any
danger to he feared; he shook his
head and answered “No,” yet I
knew by his face that he was far
from being devoid of fear. He ate
his dinner hast ly, and then ran out
again, and was met at the door by
a neighbor who said that ttfb fire
was advancing with frightfurspeed.
Indeed, the air had now become
sultry as it never had been before
except on some hot days in summer
immediately before the coming of
a thunder storm. The air was sti
fling, and smoke got into one’s lungs
and nostrils in such a way as to ren
der it exceedingly unpleasant.—
Mother sat in a corner holding lit
tle Louis in her lap, and I noticed
that she seemed restless, and that
her eyes shone with a light such as
I have sometimes seen in the eyes
of a wild beast, and had only seen
in hers in the old days when she
was about to have an outburst of
fury. I was frightened and fidgety,
and didn’t do anything in the right
way. I went and took the boy
away from mother, who relinquish
ed him readily ; and then, as I had
afterwards terrible reason to re
member, although I hardly noticed
it at the time, she went to the cup
board and secreted something in
the bosom of her dress. Mr Mech
and stood at the door speaking
hurriedly with the man whom
ho had met, when a burring branch
of pine fell at his feet. Instantly
the air darkened, a violent puff of
wind rushed upon us, and smoke
poured in volumes about the house.
Then, following the gust, a bright
sheet, or rather wall of tire, seem
ed to be pushed down almost upon
us, and instantly everything was in
flames. Mr. Mechand cried out to
me to bring Louis with me, and seiz
ed mother by the hand, and we all
four rau in terror out into the woods
ahead of us. I rau on blinded and
choked by the smoke, aud carrying
Louis in my arms. He was pale
w’ith terror, and did not utter a sin
gle cry but clung to my neck as I
hurried on, stumbling and tripping
almost at every step. So sudden
had been the rush of the fire that
we had no chance of saving any
thing but our lives, even if we had
cared to do so. I kept calling to
my husband to keep in sight, but,
poor fellow, there was no need of
doing so, for 1 could see that moth
er was a great worry to him, and
that he had almost to drag her along.
She kept looking from side to side,
and trying to break away from him :
even then I thought how terrible ir
would be if she should become fu
rious again. What on earth could
we do with her ?
We must have gone on in this
way for at least throe miles, and I
was almost exhausted, for Louis
> was a boy six j-ears old and large
for his age, and I had been Carry
ing him all the way. The trees
were compact, and in some places
the undergrowth was close and stiff
as wire. Motherkept getting worse,
and Mr. Mechand, who was a short
distance ahead of Louis and me,
had the greatest difficulty to make
her obdy him. Presently he stop
ped, and evidently was waiting for
me to come up. I put Louis down
and told him to keep alongside of
me, at the same time taking him
firmly by the hand. The fire had
come much slower than we, and I
believe we must have been at least
two miles ahead of it, although
there was no telling, for I could see
nothing behind or far before me but
some smoke curling like a mist in
and out of the trees. Behind us,
indeed, it was heavier, and looked
a sullen, dirty white.
We could not have been six feet
from my husband when mother
broke away from him, and with a
loud cry darted off into the woods,
and then I knew that what I had
dreaded had indeed come to pass,
and that excitement and danger
had brought back an old sickness
upon her. She was a maniac. Mr.
Mechand darted after her, and in
the terror of the moment I forgot
all else and followed him, leaving
poor little Louis behind. I must
have been crazy to do so, hut on I
rushed, and soon saw that mother
was euuning enough to try to es
cape by doubling on her tracks, for
I saw her dress dart past the hush
es at my side as she ran diagonal!}’
away from me. I sprang after her,
and after running for about five
minutes, found to my horror that I
had not only lost her, hut Louis and
his father. Madly I tried to re
trace my steps, hut there was noth
ing to guide me—no path, no blazes
on the trees. The wind shook the
trees aud almost bent them double;
the sultry air filled with smoke, and
all the horrors of my terrible con
dition made me frantic. I rushed
about helplessly, crying and scream
ing, “Louis! Louis! Father!” But
that last word made me calm for an
instant, and I felt that I was not
alone—not utterly lost iu the burn
ing woods, for the spirit of my
dead father was near aud there were
guardian angels. I knelt on the
ground, took my crucifix from my
neck and prayed. In kneeling down
I found to my great joy that my
dress was wet. I had knelt near a
spring. I bathed my face and hands
and soaked my hair and the upper
part of my dress. But then iny
hoy—my little Louis ! I sprang to
my feet, and called on the Virgin
to direct me, dashed on in the di
rection of the fire. I had not gone
more than a quarter of a mile when
I found my darling standing with
head erect, and flashing eyes filled
with angry tears, trying to beat
away some wolves, which, bun
gry though they were, seemed bent
only on flight. I cried, “Louis,
Louis!” e'estmoi, la mere/” and
clasped him to my heart. It was
my boy, and he was saved.
He had not seen his father,
though once he had heard a man’s
voice calling, hut the voice seemed
to have come from an immense dis
tance. “ Oh, Louis,” said I, “we
are lost unless we find him. We
must run for our lives.” The boy
began to cry, and then I was
ashamed of wbat I had said, and
tried to cheer him up. The fire
must have been very near us then,
for I could not only feel its heated
breath, but above my head, amoug
the tree tops, sparks and fire-brands
were whirling in the air. I took
Louis in my arms, determined that
never again should he he separated
from me, aud pressed onward with
some vague.idea that I should soon
reach Wolf River.
Night was coming on, and since
noon we had had nothing to eat. I
did not feel hungry, but was tor»
mented with thoughts of what
might happen if we should not soon
reach a place of safety, for I feared
that Louis would give out, and that
was one of the reasons which made
me carry him. My arms ached,
and m y limbs were scratched,
bruised and bleeding. Still I made
good headway, and soon came to a
natural clearing, on the thither side
of which we sat down to rest. By
this time night had come on, and
and what a night ! Ho moon, no
stars, but the cloudy heavens light
ed up alar with the horrible fires of
the burning woods. The clearing
in which we sat was the dried up
bed of a stream which for some un
accountable reason, had not thickly
wooded shores, and we were at least
two hundred feet from the edge of
the forest in flames. All this time
Louis, manly little fellow that he
was, had not even asked for food,
nor had he cried since I myself fool
ishly frightened him.
We sat there a long time while I
was trying to think where we were,
but I could come to no conclusion.
I had heard my husband speak of a
stream which had run dry, but that
was in a northeasterly direction
from our house, and notwithstand
ing the fact that I was lost, yet I
had a general notion that I was ap
proaching the Wolf river. The
stars could give me no information,
for I could not see them. What to
do I scarcely knew but when the
heat of the fire became such that I
could not doubt that it was near, I
determined to press on away from
it, and taking Louis’ hand I set out.
On ordinary nights it should now
have been dark, but there w’as a
nameless glare, yet not a glare, a
horrible reflet which came down
from the sky and mingled with the
I smoke. Hardly had 1 risen from
the ground, when in the direction
of the woods on the other side of the
clearing, I heard a clashing noise, a
mingled gnashing and hoarse bark
ing which I instantly recognized as
wolves, and I scarcely had time to
snatch up Louis and run behind a
magnificent pine tree whose trunk
was at least six feet in diameter, be
fore I heard them scrambling up the
side of the hill, and felt them rush
by me. I looked out and could see
their eyes coming towards me like
the wind. They did not stop for
an instant, and when they passed
there came in their track a herd of
deer, uttering cries that seemed al
most human in their intense agony.
They ran blindly, for something
more terrible than wolves was be
hind them; they struck the tree
and were hurled back by the shock,
some of them falling back upon
those below. The stampede seem
ed to last for full ten minutes, and
when it was over, and I, trembling
with fear, dared once more to
emerge from my refuge and look
across the clearing, I saw the woods
at its edge already burning—saw it
lurid through the smoke, and felt
its terrible heat upon my face. I
turned and fled, in the wake of the
deer and wolves. My shoes were
stripped from my feet, and my an
kles were torn and bloody. Fallen
trees lav in my way, hut I clamber
ed over and crawled under them in
my desperate flight. I was ago
nized with terror and finally sank
to the ground with my boy in my
arms.
I must have fainted, for I knew
nothing of what passed till I was
rudely shaken by the shoulder and
heard a wild gibbering laugh. I
opened my eyus, and abovo me stood
my mother with a drawn knife in
her hand. The woods seemed all
ablaze, although the air was not so
intolerably hot as it had been. The
forest beyond the clearing must
have been burning at its edge and
the strong wind carrying the smoke
upward and over our heads. My
mother looked down upon me with
eyes blazing with that hated light
of insanity.
“Ho, ho!” said she, “ fine time
of night for a mother and child to
be Tunning through the woods !
Fine night this! Night—it is day!
Look at the red light—’tis the light
of dawn! Lejour ! lejour dujuye
ment est arrive ! And the rocks arc
burning ! Call on them to fall upon
you ! The clouds of thunder and
the day ot doom! The Lord is
coming, and the wheels of his char
iot burn with his mighty driving.—
Lot us go up to meet him in mid
air ! Let us rids on the smoke and
thunder and sweep the stars from
the heavens! Come, yon shall go
with me !” And she seized Louis
who had thrown himself upon me
and was clinging in terror to my
breast.
I sprang to my feet and cried,
“ Mother, mother ! what would you
do—would you kill me and Louis ?”
“Kill you! yes! why wait? The
Lord calls and the devil drives. He
has let loose his imps against the
world. The trees fall crashing in
the forest; for all hell’s demons
pull them down with hooks of fire.
I have seen them as I followed you.
I have seen you all the way. I
rode over on a wolf; ’twas a loup
garou, an old friend of mine,
brought me over safely, and kept
me from the deer. I will kill you ;
would you burn to death ? You
shall go up—up higher than the
moon, and beyond the fire. Come,
let us go!” and again she seized
Louis while the knife gleamed in
the air.
I sprang at her, and with all the
strength of ten mothers in my arms
I struggled with her. Torn, worn
and bleeding, as I was, the thought
of my child and my husband gave
me the strength of a giant. I over
powered the mad woman, and for
getting that she was my mother—
that she was anything but the
would be murderess of my boy —I
seized her by the throat when she
was down rolling on the ground,
and I would have strangled her.—
Her insanity had almost made me
mad. I felt then what a murder
ous maniac feels.
But then I thought my mother
was lying almost dead, and power
less, and the fire would soon advance
and perhaps overwhelm us all. My
hand was stayed, and when my
mother rose to her feet all her wild
ness was gone, and in its place had
returned that calmness —almost im
becility—which had characterized
her for the last few years. She was
ready and willing to do everything
that I told her, but I kept
knife fast in my hand.
■ The wind had fallen, and a slight
rain was dropping among the leaves
overhead as we went on for an hour
or two longer, and then, overpower
ed with exhaustion, and no longer,
greatly dreading the fire, we lay
down in a hollow and fell asleep.
When we awoke it was morning.
I was sick and completely exhaust
ed, and hardly knew that there were
men around us. Yet there were,
and good kind men, too, who gave
us food and drove us to a place of
shelter, whence, as soon as we were
able, we went to Green Bay, where
I soon recovered from the sickness
and terror of that dreadful night.—
My mother still continues in that
same state of imbecility, which the
doctor says will soon become com
plete dementia. Louis was not
long in recovering, but as yet I
have heard nothing from my hus
band. Lucibe Mechand.
To remove stains from character
—get rich.
Faces.
Someone calls the face the index
of the mind; but it was a wiser
observer, the wisest observer, who
wrote:
‘‘There’s no a: t
To find the mind’s construction in the toco.”
There are a great many people
who plume themselves on what is
called “readers of character.” We
never knew a professional reader
of this sorts, who was not constant
ly deceiving himself concerning his
fellow .creatures. Asa general
thing faces have an obstinate way
of not betraying the mental or mor
al traits of their possesso*s. Char
acter doesn’t put all its goods, nor
even a small proportion of them, in
its shop window. The idea of read
ing at a glance anvthingso abstruse
and complex as the human heart !
He is a wise man who can under
stand himself, to say nothing about
reading other people.
There are few things in which we
are so apt to be mistaken as in the
off hand estimates we form of men
and women. A man of dissipated
habits carries signs of dissipation in
his countenance; but then, intense
mental labor, protracted anxiety,
and lack of exercise, will give tin
same jaded, worn out expression to
the face. A friend of ours —a fa
mous student of physiognomy—
once pointed out to us, on the street,
a most eminent and exemplary di
vine, as being evidently a member
of the sporting fraternity—“a fine
old sport” he called him. Our
friend was illustrating his fatuous
theory of reading characters. lie
committed the easiest of errors.
It so happens that a man of the
greatest determination will have a
weak mouth, and the most vacillat
ing and purposeless disposition will
go with firm-set lip and defiant eye.
One of the bravest of our young
generals in the late war—a rough
rider, and reckless in battle to the
verge of madness—is a gentleman
so unobtrusive in address, and so
gentle of face, th a stranger, meet
ing him casually, would at once
place him in that category of tempo
riz'.ng souls who arc supposed inca
pable of saying boo to a goose.
-Bret Harte was as true to nature as
to art in his description of the den
izens of “Roaring Camp;” “The
assemblage numbered about a hun
dred men. One or two of these
were actual fugitives from justice,
some were criminal, and all were
reckless. Physically they exhibited
no indication of their lives and
character. The greatest scamp had
a Raphael face, with a profusion of
blonde hair; Oakhurst, a gambler,
had the melancholy air aud intel
lectual abstraction of a Hamlet; the
coolest and most courageous man was
scarcely over five feet in height,
with a soft voice, and an embarrass
ed timid manner. * * * Per
haps iu the minor details of fingers,
toes, ears, etc., the camp may have
been deficient, but these slight
omissions did not detract from their
aggregateforce. The strongest man
had hut three fingers on his right
hand; the best shot had but one
eye.” These few touches, hasty
and unconsidered as they seem,
prove that the writer is a shrewd
observer of human nature, a reader
of character, in the best sense.
The conventional novelist, who lias
studied novels rather than life,
makes his villains the most oblivious
barefaced villains. The li 1a c k
sheep is so very black, physically
and morally, the wonder is that the
saintly hero or the angelic heroine
does not hand him over to the po
lice the instant, he appears.
It is not unknowingly that Shakes
peare drew his rascals. It was rot
so he drew lago—outwardly a most
engaging, soldierly, capital, frank
eyed fellow, though many actors,
judging by their mounting and hang
dog manner, seem to think that la
go was a cheap, transparent knave.
As he is usually represented on the
boards, he would not have deceived
Othello for a quarter of an hour.
Othello would have split him per
pendicularly with his scimeter at an
early stage of the proceedings. la
go was a witty plausible, fasciuat
ing, soulless villain, cool, adroit,
and sunny—just such a villain, in
short, as the professional, reader of
character would select from a crowd
as being an open-faced, honest man
and right good fellow.
It is only in books that the sharp
featured man is always irritable,
and the round face man always jolly.
In real life, it is often the scamp
who has the “smile that is child like
and bland,” and the choice spirit,
the heart of true gold, that wears
unprepossessing clay about it.
Guest —“ llow come this dead
fly in my soup?” Waiter —“In
fact, sir, 1 have no positive idea
how the poor thing came to its
death. Perhaps it had not taken
any food for a long time, dashed up
on the soup, ate too much of it, con
tracted an inflamation of the stom
ach, that brought on death. The
fly must have a very weak constitu
tion, for when I served the soup it
was dancing merrily upon the sur
face. Perhaps—and the idea pre
sents itself only at this moment —it
endeavored to swallow too large a
piece of vegetable; this remaining
fast in his throat, caused a choking
in the windpipe. This is the only
reason, I could give for the death
of this insect.”
Mill-dew—wages of the factory
girls. liing-doves—Newly-married
ladies. A model fora bust—Almost
any patent boiler model. Bumps of
curiosity—Chignons. A capital
letter —One containing a remittancr.
From the AlaCfttl Telegraph A Messenger.
Col. Herbert Fielder, ot
Randolph, lor Governor.
Editors Telegraph & Messenger :
The frequent meuliou of the name
of this gentleman for Governor of
Georgia, in private circles where
he is known, and recently through
a number of the newspapers in the
State, will doubtless render a short
personal sketch of him acceptable
to your readers. His paternal an
cestors Were English, and first set
tled in Virginia. Ilis grand father
came thence to Greene county, Ga.,
where his father was born. His
mother was a native of Morgan
county, Ga., was of Irish descent,
and a daughter of Joseph Heard.
The father and mother of Herbert
are buried in the county of New
ton where he was horn and raised
to manhood. Financial embarrass
ment deprived him of the advanta
ges of college training. He devo
ted himself two years to the busi
ness of teaching with boyish success,
and then with the means acquired by
his own exertions, set out upon his
original design, the study of law.
He passed the year of 1849 in the
office of Burney & Dyer, at Mouti
cello, and after a critical examina
tion under Judge Meriwether was
admitted to practice. At that time
Conn, Dawson, Hardeman, Starke,
Foster, Cobb, and others now gone,
were in full practice in that part of
the State, from whom, and their
cotemporaries, lie caught his early
inspirations.
Onr young friend, without mon
ey or prestige but full of Lope and
irrepressible, energy, determined to
stand on personal merit alone, and
to risk liis fortune among strangers,
he removed to Cherokee Georgia,
where his career as a lawyer up to
the opening of the late war was tin
usually successful, :uid where, we
are informed, he is held in high es
teem by all classes of people.
Having lost his property by the
war, he found himself a penniless
refugee in Decatur county, whence
he removed in the winter of 1865
to Cuthbert, und entered with all
the zeal of his youth, upon the prac
tice again. Here, his native ele
ments of charactei have told won
derfully in his progress from stran
ger to friend of the people, from pov
erty to comparative ease and inde
pendence, and to tho universal re
spect of not only tho courts and the
bar, hut of all classes of society.
liis clear head, and well balanced
judgment,inflexible will, incorrupti
ble integrity and devotion to truth ,
and extraordinary energy, afford
a guarantee of eminent success, and
universal esteem in any position in
which he may he placed. Asa wri
ter, he is terse, strong and trench
ant, having but few superiors in the
State. Asa speaker he is earnest,
logical, impressive and eloquent.--
He is the firm friend, patron and
advocate of education and religion.
Asa Chrirtian, he sustains an un
tarnished reputation, and I have no
doubt, if elevated to the position
of Governor, it would be conceded
by all, that he is the right man in
the right place.
Justice.
The Cundurango Humbug. —As
this so-called cure for cancer is ad
vertised very extensively at the
South by Messrs. Bliss, Keene &
Cos., of New York, wc print the fol
lowing from the Journal of Com
merce. Our readers would do well
to let cuildurango alone : “A friend
of mine, a well-known resident of
Fannville, Va., is suffering with
cancer on the face.
Having heard of the cundurango,
he purchased of Dr. Bliss, of the
firm of Bliss, Keene & Cos., New
York one half pound of this article
for which he paid the doctor fifty
dollars, or at the rate of oue hun
dred dollars a pound.
“ lie has used nearly all of it, and
his family physician assures me
that he has not received a particle
of benefit. N. C. R.”
Brigham Y”oung gave out a month
ago that he would not be arrested,
and that no Gentile touch should
profane the Lord’s annointed
Since this brave challenge to the
law, Young has been indicted, and
arraigned. He pleaded not guilty,
and asked a continuance of the tri
al proceedings. Precisely as if he
was only- human, and not a prophet,
the Court proceeds as usual, and
gives Brigham only the grace it al
lows to others. The Moi moos have
started a subscription paper for
their President to aid the poor man
on his trial. The money flow’s in
freely.
It is indeed an ill wind that blows
nobody good. It is said that there
is not a single indictment left
against any accused person in Cook
county, Illinois, which is certainly
a piece of good fortune for some
rogues. But, on the other hand,
the lawyers have suffered severely.
Hardly a law library or law office
is left; not a paper to show that
there is a suit pending in any of
the six courts of the county; not a
petition in bankruptcy in the Fed
eral Courts. And worse yet, so far
as is known all the records of deeds
and mortgages are destroyed.
Parties who sell kerosine oil must
be cautious. Michael <£• Cos., whole
sale grocers of New York, are now
under indictment by the Grand Ju
ry for selling dangerous oil, the use
of which caused a death. The law
is explicit and in force in this .State,
consequently buyers from wholesale
dealers should be careful to see that
| the oil they purchase is of the re-
I quired quality.
NO. 45
Origin ot* White Trash.
A negro preacher by the name of
Dempsey Morgan, living this vent*
near General W. W. Allen’s planta
tion, in this county, delivered a fii
nerai discourse over the dead body
of Uncle Burton, about three weeks
ago, in whidh he gave an account
of the Genesis of the (white) spe
cies which throws Darwin, and all
of his vain phylosophy of molecu
lar, gemular and atomic creation
completely in the shade. He said:
My Bredderen, when Adam and
Ehe was fust made they bofe nig
gers. But dc good Lord put deni
in de garden where he had his sum
mer apples and his winter apples,
and tole ’em, Adam, you and Kibe
may eat dem summer apples, much
as you want, hut you ’jes let deiu
Fowler apples he—l dun save dem
tor my own special toof. Dese, like
sheep meat too good for niggers.
Den de good Lord he went off
’bout liis business lemonading up
and down dc yearth seeking up
whom he might save up. But lie
no sooner turn his back dan, jes like
too fool niggers, Adam and Ebe
steel all de Fowler apples. Bbo
taste de fust one, smack her lubly
thick lips, and ’quired of Adam,
“llow is dat for high ?” Adam said
it was all 0. K., and den dey went
for dem Fowler apples like dc he
thing Chinese.
Bimeby do Lord came hack and
de first thing he say was “Adam !
Adam! whcr/sjny Fowler apples?”
Den Adam got skeered and said : “I
don’t know, Lord, but I speck Ebo
got ’em.” De lord den went to
Ehe and said, “Ebe, who got dem
Fowlei apples?” Den Ehe got
skeered and saw: “Dunno, Lord,
hut l kinder speck dat fool nigger,
Adam, took ’em.” Den do Lord
got so mad he fairly smash his tees.
iLo stomped back up to where Ad
am was standin’ shiverin’ like a
sheep killin’ dog, and lie made dc
ground fairly shake as he say: “Ad
am ! Adam! you grand old ties;
what tor you steal my fowler ap
ples?” Den Adam got skeered he
turned white as a sheet ! and my
belubhed bredderen he nebber got
black any more; and dat accounts
for de poor white trash we sec flyin’
round here so grand, votin’ do
Democratic ticket! Let us look to
de Lord and he dismist.
And such is the kingdom of Rad
icalism ! — Montgomery Advertiser.
Hint to Consumptives. —A phy
sician of no little experience says he
has known several consumptives
cured by observing the following
rule : Live temperately, avoid spir
ituous liquors, wear flannel next to
the skin, and take every morning
half a pint of new milk mixed with
a wine glassful of expressed juice of
green hoarhound.
A few nights since, at a-late hour,
the speaking tube at the office of
one of New Haven’s popular physi
cians was used by some midnight
wag, to tho following effect: The
doctor was in a sound sleep, w’hen
ho was partially awakened by a
“halloo” through the tube, when
the following dialogue took place :
“ Well, what do you want ? ”
“ Does Dr. Jones live here ? ”
“ Yes, what do you want ? ”
“ Are you Dr. Jones ? ”
“ Yes— yes ! what do you want?”
“ Why, how long have you lived
here ? ”
“ Some twenty years ; why ? ”
“ Why, why don’t you move? ”
“ If you stay there about ten sec
onds more you’ll find I am moving!”
and he bounded out of bed, but the
patient was heard “moving” down
the street at a rate that defied pur
suit.
Every hour that a child lives a
quiet, tranquil, joyous life, of such
sort as kittens live on hearths, squir
rels, in sunshine, is just so much in
vestment in strength and steadiness,
and growth ot the nervous system.
Every hour that a child lives a life
of excited brain working, either in
a school-room or in a ball-room is
just so much taken away from the
reserved force which enables the
nerves to triumph through the sor
rows, through the labors, through
the diseases of late life.— Aye..
Commander Gilbert Dumot and
Indian Agent, Smith and wifi#
were lost with all the women on
steamer Colburn.
A narrow guage railroad from
Stone Mountain to Athens is a prom
inent project in that section of the
State.
The tobacco manufactories in the
United States number 1,023 of
which North Carolina has 205, Vir
ginia 185, and Missouri 102.
The treasurer of the “Jiising
Star Society,” colored, in Americns,
collected seventy-five dollars for the
society, which the rats of his dwell
ing borrowed of him.
A goose thirty-seven years old is
one of the curiosities of, Cherokee
county. She is so antique her eggs
can’t be persuaded to hatch.
An Irishman, who was standing
on London bridge, said to a youth :
“ Faith, and I think I know yees j
what’s yor name ? ”
“ Jones. ’ said the boy.
“ Jones, Jones,” said the Irish
man : “ and I knew seventeen ould
maids by that name in Dublin ; was
aither of them yer mither ? ”
A Louisville dispatch of the 13th,
says:
Yesterday, Johnny Hogan, aged
seven years, by some means got hold
of a bottle of whisky at home, and
drank a large quantity of it and
• died last night from its effects.
