Cedartown advertiser. (Cedartown, Ga.) 1878-1889, June 10, 1880, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Cedartown Advertiser. Published every Thursday by D. B. FREEMAN. Terms: 01.50 per annum, in advance. OLD SERIES—VOL. YII-NO. 19. CEDARTOWN, GA., JUNE 10, 1880. NEW SERIES—VOL. II-NO. 26. Main St Cedartown Ga., IP YOC WANT THEM PURE AND PHE3H. C. G. JANES, ATTORNEY AT LAW, CEDARTOWN, GA. nr* office m the court House. lebn-’.y JOSEPH A. BLANCE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. CEDARTOWN, GA. Hr First Room up Stairs over J. S. wubt* A C Store. Sept9.viy DRS. LIDDELL & SON, PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS OPflCE EAST SIDE OF MAIN »T. CEDABTOWX, GA. jaaS-ly “BEAB YE ONE ANOTHER'S BDBDENS I” IS: Hti Pralettia of ait torn Ois at 1st tot The People's Mutual Belief Association I* issuing certificates of membership in amount* from $1,000 to $3,000 on strictly healthy persons, male and female. The plans are SAFE, CHEAP AND PERMANENT. Applications for membership will be racsived by JNO. W. RADLEY, Cedartown, Ga. Partial list of members in and around Cedartown: F. M. flight. A. A. Bead. John W. Bracken, P. J. Bracken. Wm. K. Craig, Geo. H. Leake, J. W Birr, Dr. C. U. Harris, J. B. Crabb. W. H. H. Hatrls, D. B. Monroe, Dr W. G. England, Jno. W. Radley, J. W. Kilgore, Daniel Walker, D. B. Freeman, Mrs. Xancv Powell, Alex. Dougherty, Mrs. Francis Dougherty, Dr. £. H. Richardson. Captain X. S. Eaves. - apI5 fam In a quiet street off one of the quiet squares there is a tall.’ gloomy house, with narrow, dusty windows, and a massive double door, that still bears a brass plate with the words “Gourlay Brothers” en graved thereon. The lower part of the house was used as j an office, but the bUnds were rarely drawn j pleas ^“ t0 '^,"^^71 love' Alice up, the door seldom swung back to the en. | Rusgc]|/ , fae faid laying hi8 hand on his . ~ getic push of,c^tomers, the long passage^ ^ can hardlyrememberlhe Corn and Rye Whiskies, Wine, Gins eol^d nohurnedfcx.L^eps.and to me than A. J. YOUNG, DEALER IX W. G. ENGLAND, hysician and Surgeon. CEDARTOWX, GA. >FFICE over J. A. Wynn’s where ke may toe id ready to attend cails either day or aaic-ly r night. DR. C. H. HARRIS, Physician and Surgeon, Cedartown. Ga. and Brandies. Noyes Warehouse - ■ CEDARTOWN, Ca. SOLE AGEXT FOR COX, HILL k THOMPSON'S STONE MOUNTAIN WHISKIES In Cedartown. I keep such Liquors as may be used as a beverage or for medical purposes with perfect safety, guaranteed. t3~ Give me s call. Good treatment mr18-ly B. FISHER, Watchmaker & Jeweler, CEDARTOWN, GA. Having Just opened out a slion at the store of a. D. Hogg A Co., inspect: ulv requests tha NEW HOUSE! NEW MERCHANTS! lew Goods and New Prices. A. D. HOGG & CO. W. F. TURNER, Attorney at Law. CEDARTOWX, GA. Ul practice In the Superior Courts of Pqlt, ding, Haral on. Floyd and Carroll counties, clal attention given to collections and real ite bjslness. marll-ly DR. L. S. LEDBETTER, DENTIST, CEDARTOfrX, - - - GEORGIA. All Dental work performed In the most skill ful m inner, office over J. s. stubtos a Co.’s- febi9-ly F. M. SMITH. Attorney at Law and HEAL ESTATE AGENT, CEDARTOWX, GA. Particular tteatlon given »o the selling or rent ng of city prop Tty. Buying and selling wild la*ds a specially. Pariet, owning w.id l.nds in Georgia wontd do rll to curespond with me. as I ltavo app lc turns for ill u-uinds of a-Yes who^e owners are unfcno vu. No tax fl. fa. or other b gus title ne^d apply. Look up yi ur b eswax and writ?* me. Terms: Ten p-r , cent, c rasnl-si »•» on For locating and \ ascertaining probable value, $1 per lot. For ; searching record' tor owner*. .**• <vql- per 1 »t. For ascirtaining if iand is claimed «ir occupied by squatter $1 per l«*. Aiwa s in ndvanoe. To | insure at ent on enclo e aa-cent^tatnp Parties j own ng wild land * sU mid look to tbelr interests, \ as many of these wud ands arc being stolen t». | Miuatt**rs und r a bogU' title. All eo nmuntca- tions p omptly ansivred. SatlLfacUoa guar anteed i ' " " ' ' MAIN Street, CEDARTOWN, Georgia, Have just opened a selset stock of General Merchandise in their new store, and want ail their friends and the public generally to call and let them show their goods and prices. Their stock was bought before the recant rise in prices, and they feel confident of having goods at bottom figures. They have beautiful Dress Goods, Calicoes, Cor.ets, new styles; Bleach- ings, Flannels, Casslmeres, Kerseys, Kentueky'Jeans. Hosiery, Gloves, Hardware, Xotlous, etc., etc. Extra nice Gentlemen’* Underwear Very Low. Remember the place—last Brick btore on South M AIX Street, west side. noT * LIGHTS AND SHADES. The gloomiest day bath gleams of Ii?ht. The darkest wave bath bright foam near it; And twinkles through the cloudiest night Some solitary star to cheer it. The gloomiest soul is net all gloom, The sa ’dost hoar is not all sadness ; And sweetly o'er the darkest doom There shines some lingeiing beams of sad ness. Despair is never quite despair. Nor life nor death the fatnre > loses; And round the shadowy brow < f care Will hopa and fancy twine the r loses. Two Loyal Hearts. vory day after the ceremony, the poor, weary, broken hearted mother died. George Leslie took his wife back with him to Syd ney, and John and Roger Gourlay were literally alone in the world. As if in bitter mockery of their loss, and loneliness, immediately after their mother’s death the brothers inherited a small for tone. But it was too late for John to go back to his studies, too late for Roger to return to his piano. They had fallen into the groove of business, and John at least was seized with a feverish eagerness to turn his small fortune into a larger one and be come wealthy. So they went into business on their own account as Gourlay Brothers, | with the firm resolution of retrieving the position their father had lost, and a very few years saw them established in Whittier street, and fairly on the high road to for tune. Then one quiet summer evening, as they sat over their dessert, John opened bis heart to his brother and told him of his hopes, dreams and ambitions of his future. You will be surprised, and I trust gart, the clerk, was, to all appearance, the j aU the wor]d 6egWe> The „ iUere3t part of idlest man m London, till one came to know j ^ misfortune t0 me waa that it hl Tr , G^rlay Brothers were never any | me from her; the only thing that has sus- busier than their faithful old servant-1 me throu ^ our long struggle was never hurried, flurried, or worried; never i ** ° f «“ e <*7 ~g hen nothing -c . . else can ever compensate me for the nun Every morning at I t , r . . , T of all my hopes apd glonous ambitions. I ^ ^ H. C. CROWLEY. & £ DEALER IX STOVES iAND TIN-WARE, EAST SIDE OF MAIN STREET, Opposite Philpot & Dodds, - CEDARTOWN. Ga. Keeps constantly in stock the LATEST and BEST orands of STOVES and can now supply customers with the unequal*^ Time*, SfUiliern Baker and Iron City. Keeps at all times a full line of TINWARE* and doe ® » u klnda of work—Roofing. Guttering, etc. m °* y _ [ 10 ali honest men. JanS9-ly LIVERY FEED, SALE STABLE! Wright & Johnson Prop’rs. CEDARTOWX, - - - GEORGIA- Being suppl’ed with new Horses, New cie* A .. we are prepared to meet tb« want* or the puollc In ourline. jans-iy ED. E. BRANNON, Dealer in ate and never early, ten o’clock they entered their office to- gether, read their letters, glanced at the paper, left instructions for possible callers, and then went to the city. They always took the same route; at eleven they might be seen passing along the sunny side of Cannon street; at half-past one they en tered the same restaurant, and sat down for luncheon. Wet or dry, shade or shine, summer or winter, every working-day for thirty years they had gone through the same routine, always excepting the month of September, when they took their annual holiday. They were elderly men—John tail, thin, melancholy-looking, with light gray <$es, scanty gray hair and whiskers and a gen eral expression of drabness pervading his whole face and faultlessly neat attire. Roger was shorter, rounder, more cheerful and generally wanner in color. His per vading hue was brown, keen reddish eyes that must have been merry once, crisp auburn hair that time had not yet quite transmuted to silver, a clean-shaved, ruddy face and brown hands full of dents and dimples. John was the elder; still he looked up to Roger with grave respect, con sulted him on every subject, and never, either in our out of business, took any step ^without his advice and approval. And Roger was no less aeferential. Witho-v anv profession of affection or display c: reeling, the Gdnrley Brothers'dwell rogeinfr in cloeest friendship and love. Their life was a long harmony, and durum thg years of their partnership shadow had fallen between them, and ^eir public life was as hari" al0us at llleir private inter course. 111 business they were successful, eTC ry speculation they made prospered everything they touched turned to gold; and as their whole lives were spent in get. ting, not spending, they were believed, and with reason, to be immensely wealthy. “Cold, hard, stem, enterprising,” men called them, with an acuteness of vision and a steadiness of purpose, only to be ac quired by long and close application to business. Reserved in manner, simple in their tastes, economical in their habits, the Gourlay Brothers were the last men m the world to be suspected of sentiment, their lives the least likely to contain oven the ge ms of romance. And yet they bad not been always mere business machines; the sole aim and end of their existence had not always been money. In early years they had brighter dreams, nobler ambitions. At school John had distinguished him self, and his brief university career gave ! JAMES H. PRICE, CEDARTOWX, GA. Keeps on Hand and manufactures to order j MATTRESSES! i My work recommends itself wiierevcr *sed. ; and is puarantoed to render the most Reject , aattsraction. No flimsy mat«r.«i used no work , alighted. I ask a trial. JAM EL K FKivn. . iebi9-ly. j CALHOUN Livery and Sale Stable. FOSTER A HARLAN, Props » plUIPC-V. - - - GEORGIA. lately purchased ths above stable and snnwd<rt*lt with good Horses and a splendid linear new Vehicles, we are prepared to meet toe'wants or the trivellng public In our line. Parties wishing vehicles sent to any of the trains on the Selma. Rome an l Dalton Railroad orto-ny other point, mav telegraph ul and hare their wants promptly and i ropeily at tended to. F0STER j. HARLAN, Calhoun, Ga. JanS-tf ISAAC, T. MBB, CEDARTOWN, GA., —DEALER IX— STOVES TINWARE, Hardware and Hollow-Ware, OF ALL KIXDS. House-Furnishing Goods A SPEC! 4LTT. Every variety or Job wort In my line neatly none. I tespe t ul y solicit the pa'ronnie oi the public, and would be pleased to nave all my Trends and customers call and eee m, when ui tavn. 1. T. MEE Staple and Fancy Groceries, Chickens, Eggs and Batter a Specialty. once dreamed of being famous, Roger; for her sake put that behind me, and grubbed for gold like a miser. We, Gourlay Brothers, are on the high road to for tune ; 1 may aspire to the hand of Alice now I ” “Surely, John,” and the younger brother’s voice was husky, and his hand shook as he took up his glass; “I drink to your success. ” 4 ‘Thanks, brother. I should have told you all tiiis before, I should have confided in too. but I feared troubling you on my acount, yon would have seen a thousand shadows across my path, you would have been more unhappy than I was myself. And now I want you to promise that it shall make no difference between ns. We shall be Gourlay Brothers still.” Roger stretched his hand aorossthe tabic, and John grasped it heartily. “Gourlay Brothers to the end sf the chapter, old fellow, and may you be as happy as you deserve. God ’oless you John.” John's face became a shade or two paler with emotion, and he walked up and down the room a few minutes; then he stood be hind his brother’s chair. “Roger, you will think me very weak, very nervous, but I dare not speak to Alice myself. I could not endure a refusal from jtr- i e never even given her the most distant hint of my feelings. I have notihe slightest reason to suppose that she regards me as other than a mere acquaintance, at most as Maude’s brother.' Roger, we have always been friends as well as brothers— stand by me in this; you are less shy and more accustomed to women; see Alice for me, ask her to be my wife.” “ John, you’re mad! You do not mean it! ” “I do; it is my only chance. Plead for my happiness, brother, as I would plead for yours. I am a man of few words, but I feel deeply. A refusal from her lips would kill me; I could hear H from you.” “As you will, John; I’ll do my best,” and Roger leaned his head on his hand and shaded his face from the light; “I’ll call on Alice to-morrow. ” The next day was the longest of John Gourlay’s life—a bright, warm, happy day, that made people even in the city look glad and cheerful. He went about his business as usual, ate his luncheon, and walked home leisurely. Roger was standing at the win dow watching for him, and he kept his back to him when he entered the room. “Well,” John said, gently; “well flush rose to Alice’9 pale cheek as she tried to stammer out some words ot greeting* Roger was no lens confused, and the expres sion of both faces was a revelation to John Gourlay. He felt as if the world had sud denly drifted away from bun and he was left solitary in some unknown, infinate space. But there was nothing of that in his voice as he asked Alice for her address, and permission to call upon her in the afternoon. Then taking his brother by the arm he led him away, and they continued their walk without exchanging a angle word about the strange encounter. In the afternoon John called at Miss Russell’s hotel, and in a few moments he found himself seated beside her in a pleas- ant sittiag room, overlooking the sea. “Alice,” he said, plunging into the sub ject at once, “do you remember a conver sation you had with my brother a long time ago ?” “Yes, 1 remember, Mr. Gourlay,” she replied sadly, “He made a request for me then which it was not in your power to grant; I am come to moke a similar one for him now. Roger loves you, Alice. He has loved you all these long, weary years, though you will at least believe I did not know It then. ” “Poor Roger!” Alice said, softly. “You care about him ? You will make him happy, even at this late hour ? Tell me, Alice, that you love my brother 1 ” “Yes, Mr. Gourlay, I da Why should I deny it ? I have loved him always, though I did not know that he cared about me, and if the little life that is left me can make him happier, I will devote it to him gladly, proudly—poor Roger I You see I am too old for pretenses, Mr. Gourlay, and I fear I am dying; therefore, I tell you all.” “Dying, Alice? Xo, no! you will live many years yet, I hope, to make my dear brother nappy—brave, loyal, great-hearted Roger. Let me send him to yon now, and •Alice, for my old and long affection’s sake make him happy. He deserves it, and that is the only way I can ever help to re pay the devotion of his life.” “I love him,” Alice replied, simply; “I cannot do any more.” In their lodgings John Gourlay found his brother pacing restlessly up and down. “Roger, I’ve found out your secret and her’s,” he said, laying both hands on his shoulders; ‘"loyal, faithful friend, go to her, she loves you, she is waiting for you.” “Poor Alice ! how she must have suf fered ?” “How we ail have suffered! but it’s nearly over now, Roger—the grief, pain, regret. It’s clear and bright Roger, dear friend, can you forgive me ?” ‘•Forgive you, John? Say rather can you forgive me ?” “True to the last,” John murmured, as he wrung his brother’s hand. “Xow nopw, go her: she is waiting for you. She loves you—ioves-you, Roger! Gx)d bye, and may yon both be happy ! ” Late that evening, when Roger Gourlay returned home, fall of deep, quiet g'adness. he found his brother sitting in an easy j chair near the window, apparently asleep. The full moon shone down on his pale face, and showed a smile on his lips; his hands were clasped on an open book that rested on his knee. The attitude was life like, but at the very first glance Roger felt that his brother was dead. The doctors said he had died of disease of the heart. Perhaps they were right. More people die of that malady than the world knows of. A Mysterious Stabber. I HAVE AL80 A FIRST —CLASS BAR In connection with the Store, which is stocked with the finest Liquors in town. ' janfi-tf CHEAP GOODS! J. S. STUBBS & CO., Have just moved into their ehgtrt new Store Rooms on East Side of Ml\ Street! CEDARTOWN SCHOOL, J. C. HARRIS, Principal The Spring Term commences the first Mon day in January and wlu continue sy moat os. Fail Term ' -pens 3rd Monday in August and continues 4* months. Rates of tuition as cus- T< The8cbool-room is convenient and eomfort- ab e: training thorough and discipline firm. The Principal offer* hla thanks ror past favors, confidently ask for a liberal share of patron- *®5«SraSo«S to dlaetplla*. He., is mafia totbs former patrons ot this sohsoL amrtr-f^ Where they are now opening in extensive stonk of GENERAL MERCHANDISE. Their goods were selected with great cap and with an eye to the needs of their customers, and were bought for Cph. They wlil be told at the lowest, figures. Go and examine their itock and prices before making your purchases. j ang7-»f J. P. DTJ^FEY, MANUFACTURER AN* DEALER IN BOGGY 11 WAGON HARNESS SADDLES, BRIDLES, &£ Dougherty's i«! t Stand,) CED ARTO W f, Georgia. All Work Guaranteed to give satUfactloi AU he aeks U a trial. janS-ly promise of a brilliant future. Roger had i Roger, have you Been her?” been a bright, ardent boy, with a taste for i “Yes, I ve seen her,” and Roger faced music that was almost a passion, and a tal- j around suddenly. “John, old fellow, it s ent little short ot genius. With his deep earnestness, intense steadiness of purpose, and clear, vigorous intellect, John could scarcely have failed to make a distinguished lawyer. Roger was a born artist, with a restless, lofty ambition. Life seemed very bright for the brothers; there was nothing to prevent, and everything to assist, each in following his inclination. But m the very dawn of their career thair father died, and they were suddenly reduced from afflu ence to actual poverty. Nothing remained from the wreck of a magnificent fortune but the bitter experience that always accom panies such reverses. Fine friends failed them, flatterers looked coldly on their dis tress, those who had most freely partaken of their lavish hospitality passed by on the ether side. Xot a friend remained in their adversity but one, and she had indeed the will, but not the power, to help them. The boys left the college and turned their thoughts to business. It was hopeless to attempt to follow up their professions with an invalid mother and idolized only sister deoending on them for support. John secured a situation as clerk in a city ware house. Roger accepted a desk in the office of Bernard Russell, an old friend of his father’s. They moved to cheap lodgiDgs, and for several years plodded on wearily, the only gleam of sunshine in their altered home being the occasional visits of Alice Russell to their sister. Maude Gourlay and Alice bad been schoolmates and friends; they usually spent their vacations together and Alice felt the misfortune that had fal len on the family as if it had overtaEen her own. But she could do nothing except pay them flying visits, send trifling gifts of fruit and flowers, and write pretty sympa thetic cotes to Maude. A few yean of hardship and poverty told on Mix. Gourlay’s always feeble frame, Still for her daughter’s sake she clung to life with a strange tenacity; but when Maude’s lover, who bad gone to Australia to«"«!»»hla fortune, returned, not wealthy, but sufficiently so to claim his bride In her altered circumstance*. Mrs. Gourlay seemed to have no other object to live for. Mauds'* marriage was hastened, sad tha no use. “Brother 1” and he lifted his hand as if to ward off a blow. “It’s no use,” Roger went on in a bard voice. “She does not love you; she loves some ODe else. Be a man, John, and bear it, for there’s no hope.” One low, stifled groan, and then John Uonriay wrung his brother’s hand and walked steadily out of the room. - What he suffered in the hours that followed no one ever knew, and when he appeared at the dinner table he was calm and self-possessed, but something had either come into his face or gone out of it that altered him. But of the two, Roger loqjted-the most unhappy. The blow had really fallen most most heav ily on him. “Jack, old fellow, we’re Gourlay Bro ther’s now to the end of the chapter,” he said, huskily. “I know you’ll never mar ry, and neither will I,” and somehow John felt that Roger meant what he said Twenty five years passed by, and a quar ter of a century of changes and chances, and still the Gourlay Brothers held the even tenor of their way. They were rich beyond their wishes or desires, and not altogether unhappy in their solitary friendship. Alice Russell seemed to have drifted completely ont of their lives; her name was never mentioned, and whether she was married or dead they did not know. One morning alxrat the middle of Sep tember they were walking along the King’s road at Brighton, whither they had gone for their annual holiday. Roger entered a shop to purchase something, and John stood outside looking dreamily at the pass- ersby. Suddenly he advanced a step as a lady in an invalid chair was wheeled by. Chancing to look up, she met his glance with a smile of recognition, “Mr. Gourlay, it surely is, it must be you. I am so glad to see you 1” “And 1 to meet you,” John said, with a courteous bow. “I have not the JJleasure of knowing—” “My name—I am Alice Russell still,” ■he said frankly. At that moment Roger appeared. For an Instant tbs blood for- ssok Ms rod? fiee, whll* a hot erimtos Considerable excitement has been aroused within the last few days at Btrasburg by the extraordinary proceedings of a myster ious stranger, who’ makes his appearance regularly at nightfall in ODe or the other of the less frequented thoroughfares, armed with a sharp, double-edged poinard, sad, as soon as he preceives an “unprotected tema e,” saunters up to her in a leisurely way and strikes her on the right breast with his weapon, inflicting a slight wound of from half to threequarters of an inch deep. Since the 18th uit., he has succeed d in stabbing no fewer than fifteen women and girls in this manner, upon each occasion taking to flight as soon as he had made hia coup, and before his panic stricken victims had sufficiently recovered from their terror to raise an alarm. The Imperial police authorities have made search for this eccentric misdemeanant—described by those who have felt the point of his dagger as young, slight in build, and well dressed in all the hotels, inns, and lodging houses of the venerabte cathedral city, bnt as vet to no purpose- They have placarded the town with official warnings addressed to heads of families, urging them net to permit their wives and daughters to traverse the streets alone after dark, and exhorting the male population of Btrasburg to assist the police in discovering and arresting this male-factor. The placards in question were published early one .Sunday evening. Three hours latir two young girls were stabbed, both in the r ; I breast, while returning home from vespers through streets by no means void of pedertrians at that time the respective assaults were com mitted. A large reward is now offered by the Government for the seizure of the dexterous bravo, wbo has rendered the gloaming so terrible to Strasburg’s fair daughters. It was nearly a year ago when Leadville was first showing what wits in her. There were several newly made bonanza kings about Denver then, and among them was a man who had probably never had $30 in his pocket at one time previous to his strike. To him the possession of a watch was the natural evidence of a competence, and as he made more than a competence, he felt that the fact should be indicated by tho purchase of several watches. These be had deposited in Graad Central hotel safo. One night he came into the office very much the worse for liquor, lurched to the bar and hie coughed out to the clerk, “Gimme a watch.” A timepiece was passed to his unsteady hands, but endeavering to thrust it into his trousers pocket he left it slip and fall upon the floor. Without easting a glance at the fallen watch he lurched against the counter again, reached out his shaking hand, mus tered all hiB faculties to the speak ing and then blurted out 1” “Gimme ’nother!” Can the indifference of affluence go be yond this? —Boston was incorporated as t.elty lnlltS. Moving- To begin at the beginning, Adam and Eve moved out of the garden because they did’t comply with the conditions of the lease. It didn’t include fruit. Xoah moved his whole family by water to get out of a bad neighborhood, and found after all that he had taken the worst neigh bors with him. The Pilgrim Fathers moved to Plymouth Rock, because they couldn't move the rock tojhem. Then the Indians began to move West, because the while man's tenements were held at too expensive rents for them. And the Chinese began to move East, because they jostled one another at home. And the Irish and English, Germans and French, Italian organgrinders and Russian Mennonite°, all began to move over here, because they wanted more land about their houses, and the privilege of owning it themselves. Thus the moving boom started, and every possible excuse has been invented for moving ever since. Some people move because they have got furniture that looks well on a load, and wish to stir up the envy of the neigh borhood. This doesn’t work after about three moves. The furniture doesu’t stand up to its good looks. Occasionally arnan moves because he likes the excitement, but not often. People move away from a neighborhood where there are children because they can’t stand the noise, and find their new house backs up against a tmshop. Serves 'em right. Quarrelsome people are moved away from one only to find other people who not only quarrel but steal the morning pa per from the doorstep. Some folks move because they want more rooms and larger ODes, and after they get there find every carpet a yard and a half too small each way. Some folks move because they want to get into a more- fashionable neighborhood, and find that it costs them three times as much to dress as it did in the old place. Some folks move in order that they may have a garden spot to cultivate, and spend the summer in fighting potato bugs off the front piazza. X. B.—Their bills for “gar den sa-s” aie unusually large. Some families move where there is a plat of grass for a croquet ground, and superinduce a quarrel that ruins the matri monial prospects of the two older daughters and cause the parish rector to say “gosh.” Some people move because the mort gagee inserts an advertisement in the paper, and not because they want to. Some people move to get a cheaper rent, and the first rainstorm leaks through the roof and spoils $75 worth of carpet Some people move from force of habit. The 1st of May would seem like January to them—cold and cheerless—if they couldn’t follow on behind a load of goods, with a lithograph of the ten commandments in one hand and a kerosene lamp in the other. Last, out not least, if you had paid your rent in the old place you wouldn’t be obliged to move. Tue Romance of Hotel Keeping. Concerning Cyclonee. Every one should know what a cyclone is, but the general Ideas of the subject are rather vague. Take a small butter-pot, and set it down on your largest map of the world at about 20 degrees Xorth l atitude, anywhere in the Atlantic between two continents, say east of the West Indies. Then, with a piece of whalebone twice as long as from the butter-pot to the Xorth Pole, bent into a parabola, with one end at the Pole, the other at the butterpot, ma k out thus the cyclone. The apex of the bent whalebone will be somewhere in the Western United States. Imagine your butter-pot to be revolving in its own centre in the direction on the hands of a watch, at the rate of a hundred miles an hour. Its northwestern edge will be the dangerous storm-rim, blowing a hurricane, lashing the seas, and precipitating the rain ; the other •dges'will be breezy, bit n I so stormy, as they contain less moist air. The centre will be the low barometer and calm area, because here the air has less weight and is flowing upward. Now move your butter- pot slowly along the parabola, still suppos ing it to be turning. By the time you reach the centre of ibe United States ex change the pot for a saucer, with the same supposed conditions, only by this time, if wintry, a snow-storm will ak i the place of the rain. Keep it moving circularly, and northwards also along tue parabola, and about Hudson’s Bay change to a break- tast-plate, and in Greenland to a dinner- plate, and about the 80th degree North, before the storm reaches the size of a bug gy wheel, it breaks np. Thus yon see the space over which the storms travel enlarges as it passes Xorth, the winds blow around its rim, and the ealmeentre moves with it. Mariners now carry what is called a horn-card, transparent piece of flat cow’s- horn, with a circle on it, inside which are several smaller circles, with arrows point ing as a watch’s hands travel. Whenever the barometer changes, and clouds scud by, this horu-card is placed on the chart at the ship's position. Knowing the wind’s direc tion «nd the weight of the air, the horn- cards tells whereabouts in the cyclone the ship is, and from this is reasoned bow ts sail to avoid the cyclone; or, if unavoida ble, how to manage in it. Xot many de cades ago, ships were driven thousands of miles from their course by not having mas ters possessed of this knowledge. Now adays, meteorological information is as necessary to the navigator as his sextant. In Bouth Latitudes storms pass in the same way toward the South Pole, by way of a western bend, only the circular motion is reversed, and the southwestern is the stormy edge. “Having staid too long in the bath at Long Branch recently, I lost the train to the horse-race, and Col. Presbnry, of the eat End Hotel, a gallant old beau, of fine worldly style, offered to take me out He was about to give away $1,000, as it proved, to George Lorillard, and had only time to see that stake run ior and the fol- lowimr two miles and a quarter. As we went along the road I said: ‘You were the first big hotel man I ever saw, and I have been afraid of you for about twenty years. How did yon start ?’ said the straight, mil itary-like old man. ‘I came from Balti more. My mother was a Howard. I was cashier of the Bank of Maryland, and also of the Bank of Louisville. I had put by some money, and one day Mr. Billings came to me and said, ‘Colonel, there is a big hotel to be erected in Philadelphia, called the Guard House. If you will let me have some money to furnish it, I think L can get ii.’ I was banking then in St. Louis. I went on with Billings to see the hotel, and as it cost a large sum to famish it, $75,000, I was compelled to be a part ner. We leased the hotel. Billings made $100,000, which 1 paid to him. He wasn't equal to so much luck, and is dead. My inside steward was named Dariing. I got him from the Tremont House, Boston, and paid $2,500 a year. He was so efficient with me that he got the new Battle House at Mobile, made money and was enabled to take the Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York., There he liecame the wealth iest American hotel man, and is worth $3,- 000,000. If I had begun business with as good a man as my present partner. Hii- dredth, I would have been as rich as Dar ling.’ “ ‘How came you to go to Washington City during the war ? ’ “ ‘I had to give up the Girard House af ter running it four years, on account of the hoggishnes of those who owned it. I asked for a reduction of rent on the ground that the Continental Hotel, a much finer struct ure, was going up right opposite ma They said that was a reason for raising my rent.’ ‘Very well,’ said I, ‘I will sell out the tur- I niture and close the Girard House for a year, and you will never make money out ot it again. They never have. I went to Baltimore and the war broke out, and tha first thing I knew Simon Cameron,- Secre tary of War, telegraphed me to come to Washington. I went down there and he opened the conversation: “ ‘Presbury, I want you to take Wil lard's Hotel. It will be the Union head quarters. I want a man in control there whom I know!’ ‘Gen. Cameron,’ I re plied, ‘I’m hardly your man. While I think our people are foolish to talk about leaving the Union, my sympathies are with the State of Maryland whatever Bhe does.’ ‘O, pshaw 1’ he said, ‘You go and take that hotel. Willard is scared, and you can get it cheap.’ I called on the Willards, They j offered me the hotel for $100,000, furniture ; and lease. 1 had the proffer written out and sigued. 1 rented it without looking at it, seeing there were six hundred guests. When I went next Monday to take the hotel, Willard said, ‘Presbury, we don’t want to give thi9 up. What will you take to give the property up ? We’ll give you $50,000 for your bargain.’ Said I, ‘Gen tlemen, 1 will take $100,000.’ I got the hotel and made $105,000 the flret year. I then sold the leaietomy partneis for.$140,- 000, which they paid in fall, except $20,- 000. In the West End Hotel here I have j invested with Mr. Hildreth $250,000, and spent $’.00,000 on the property, and we get $60,000 a year out of it.” At the Depot. A young man called on his intended, and while waiting for her to make her ap pearance he struck up a conversation with his intended brother-in-iaw. After a while the boy asked: “Does galvanized niggers know much?” “I really can’t say,” replied the much amused young man. And then silence reigned for a few mo ments when the boy resumed his conversa tion. “Kin you play checkers with your nose?” • “No, I have never acquired that accom plishment. “Well, you’d better learn, you hear me!” “Why?’ “Cause Sis says you don't know as mnch as a galvanized nigger, but yer dad’s got lots of stamps and she’ll many vou anyhow; and she said when she got hold of the old man’s sugar she was going to all of the Fourth of July percessionB and Ice cream gumsucks, and let you stay home and play checkers with that hollyhock nose of yourn.” And when Sis got her hair banged and came in, she found the parlor deserted by ail rave her brother, who was innocently tbs tails of two kittens together and tyinj^tb •>. I im tfi* suasr fittert. A ludicrous scene occurred at a depot re cently. The train which goes up the Creek backs down to the depot, then uncouples, and the locomotive and a couple of cars go over Centre street to allow a car from the Valiev train to be switched in. As the piece ot train moved off, a person on the stationary car yelled “There goes the train 1” and started in pursuit. His ex ample was contagious. Everybody believed that the train was leaving them, and rushed wildly out of the car. Two men tumbled over the railings in their haste and fell in the mud. A fat woman with a basket of purchases rushed out of the car door, slip ped, and bounced down the steps on to the platform, like a bag of lard rolling down stairs. And when she struck in a pool of water on the boards, it sounded liae slap ping a griddle cake on to the iron. Then she yelled murder and called for the police. A fat old gentleman got stuck in the door way, until the crowd pushing from behind suddenly loosened him, when he shot out of the door and off to the end of the car into the arms of the brakeman, with a speed which confused the old man into the belief that he had collided with the locomotive. A nervous man followed and attempted to jump over the fat lady, who had not yet arisen. His toe caught in her waterfall, and he plunged head-first into the stomach uf a man who was rushing to assist the lady, doubling bim np on the ground, while a yard of false hair fluttered from the nervous man’s toes for a moment as he waved them in the air, looking like a well- worn rag on the end of a black stick. Two men who had gained the train just at Sycamore street, said to the brakeman, “Well, we caught it.” “Yes, you caught it, though what in thunder you run like that for when we’re going to back up again is more than I can tell.” The two men got right off and stood looking into each other's faces for five minutes without speak ing. Then said one, “is there anything strong enough for ns to drink in this town ? ” Matters were finally arranged at the plat form. The fat old gentleman was assisted into the cars again and two men helped np the old lady and her purchases; procured a portion of her waterfall—a dog had run off with the other part—and by telling her that nobody had been hurt by ibe collision, persuaded her to take her seat in the car once more. The nervous gentleman was discovered trying to pall a plug hat off from his head and shoulders, while in the face of the man propped up in one corner of the depot, with both hands over his ' stomach, could be discerned the feature of him who broke the nervous gentleman’s fall. As Monsieur Henri de Charviile, a genial assistant at the Maison Doree, San Francis co, was sauntering np Market street near the Palace the other morning, on his way to where his short gingham jacket hangs on a peg behind the door, he spied a jracc of female kids with hair-banged fore heads and black stockings, in charge of a damsel, the roseate hue of whose cheeks, the quiet gray of whose skirts, the delicious whiteness of whose cap and apron—in short, the completeness of whose Parisian ‘‘get-up” brought him back to the Boule vards, the Champs Elysee, the Jardin dea Plantes, and all the rest of them. Doffing his hat, with his politest bow, as was hia wont in his home of his boyhood, he sainted Mademoiselle thualy: “Bon jour, m'maelle. Je suis enchante de vous voir ce matin.” Mademoiselle looked at him a minute, and then In the choicest Parisian, replied: “Fwat do yes taka ms fair, anyhow? Do yes think I'm a Chotasy 7”