Newspaper Page Text
The Cedartown Advertiser.
Published every Thursday by D. 13. FREEMAN.
Terms: Sl-50 per annum, in advance.
OLD SERIES—VOL. YIH-NO. 27.
CEDARTOWN, GA., AUGUST A. 188..
NEW SERIES—VOL. III-N0.34.
DR. C. H. HARRIS,
Physician and Surgeon,
Cedartown, Ga.
QBloe at Bradford & walker's Drear store.
Residence at the Keece Bouse. novl4-lf
W. F. TURNER,
Attorney at Law.
CEDARTOWN, GA.
Will practice In the Superior Courts of Polfc,
Pali ding. Haral on. Floyd and Carroll counties,
tpeclai attention given to collections and real
estate b lslness. marll-ljr
DR. L. S. LEDBETTER,
DENTIST,
CEDARTOWN, - - - GEORGIA.
All Dental wortc performed in the most skill
ful manner, office over J. & Stubbs A Co.’s.
febiMy
DR- G. W. STRICKLAND
BENTIST,
CEDARTOWN, - - - Georgia.
Baring permanently located In Cedartown,
olfere his professional services to the public,
guaranteeing flret-clasa work and reasonable
charges to all patrons. ootsi-ir
DRS. LIDDELL & SON,
PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS
omci BAST BIDS or MA1H ST.
CEDARTOWN, GA
WEIGHT’S
Livery and Feed Stable,
Cedartown, Ga.
B. FISHER.
Watchmaker & Jeweler,
CEDARTOWN, Ga.
Riving Just opened out a shop In Cedartown,
respect! ully requests the public to call on him
when needing work m Ills fine.
STAR BARBER SHOP.
WEST SIDE MAIN STREET.
CLEAN TOWELS and plenty of BAY RUM
always on hand- Everything neat and system
atic about my shop, and~ customers promptly
and politely waited on. 1 guarantee perfect
satisfaction in all branches of my business.
Excellent Bat bine Rooms 1b Conneo
tlOB wltb the shop.
LEWIS BOND.
,A TRIAL OF THE
BUTIMOREIN JOBBER
WILL CLEARLY SUBSTANTIATE SIX
ESPECIAL POINTS OF EXCELLENCE
1st—It is the easiest running press made.
2nd—It is as Strong as any press made,
fird—It is the most Durable press made
It will do a® good work as any preee
made. , „ , v , ,
It will take Less to keep It in repair
than any press inade.
(Last hut not lea£t) It costs lere
than any first-class press made.
ALL SIZE PRESSES, TYPE,
l PRINTKRS’ supplies
Catalogue Free. *
. 3F\ TX7\ DOBM AIT,
21 GERMAN ST.,
BALTIMORS.
D. H. LEDBETTER,
Watchmaker & Jeweler,
CEDARTOWN, Ga.
All klndi of Repairing of Watched, (hooka
end Jewelry done promptly and pailafactortly.
Watches. Clocks and Jewelry of all triads far*
nished to order on short notice.
I am prepared to do
PHOTOGRAPHING
IN ALL ITS B2ANCHJS.
My Gallery Is fitted np in good style, sad I tv ,
prepared to furnish
GOOD PICTURES.
Give me a call. Gallery up stairs In the Led
better A Goode Building. sepa-iy
R. H. JONES,
OARTERSVUiLE, Georgia.
CARRIAGE MANUFACTORY
In 1868.1 tmblUhed for twelve months a large number of oertifioatee from the first
men of North Georgia and Alabama, who testified ee to the good character of m, work,
some of whom ere now deed. H n. Tomer H. TripD.Col Lindsey Johnston, C l. War
ren Akin. Co!.Lewis Tomlin, Dr. John W. Lewie. Major Willie Denham. Thomas Brandon,
and many others. All of these bed tried my work for many year*. I now have thou-
aande of witneaaee all over the country, who will bear testimony to the GBB AT b U l r.it I-
OBiTYof my work. .
I i ave the txst selected materials In large quantities. In stock. Keep the most skillM
and rail.hie workmen. ,
All work, whether Phntons, Carriages, Buggies or Wagons, are made Juataa good as
they can be.
I a*j to all, if yon want something good, the beet there is in my line, oome to ma or
write.
I keep on eels the oelebrated Stndebaker end Kentnoky Wagons. There are nono bet.
ter on the market.
Also, a good eel eotion of Kaetem end Western made vehiolee, bought from the moat re*
liable builders.
All of which I am selling at bottom figures, at my shops here, end at Dome, Ga.
Also at my agencies, J. A. Wynn A Bro., Cedartown, and W. B. Chandler. Villa Bio*
Ga. March IT—Ij.
G. W. FKATHER8TON.
W. 8. FEATEERSTON.
NEW FIRM!
FEATHERSTON & BRO.
Have on hand at their
New Brick Store, on Main Street,
A LAKCER AND FINER ASSORTMENT OF
GENERAL MERCHANDISE,
than they have ever before offered to their customers. With additional
room and Improved facilities generally, they are prepared to give all old
customers, and as many new ones as may choose to fovqr them with a trial.
Rare bargain*. Come at once, and see the inducements they offer.
We also keep Firstt-Clana flnanoa sand Phosphate*.
FEATHERSTON & BRO.
J. J. BALDWIN. M. M. PEPPER. COX, HILL A THOMPSON.
J. J. BALDWIN & CO.
Wholesale Dealers in Foreign and Domestic
Liquors, Wines, Brandies, &c., &c.,
And Sole Agents for the Celebrated
Stone Mountain Corn Whisky.
Will keep constantly on hand the largest and best assortment of Liquors
#ver kept in Rome. Prices guaranteed to be low as any In the market,
No. 9, Shorter Block, Rome, Ga. m7 ^w
ANEW KIND OF WATCH CASE
Mew, because it Is only wltblu tbe last few
Tears that it has been improved and brought
within tbe i each of every ooe; old in pr nclp.e
wpn«i tbe first invention was made and tbe
<irst patent taken out nearly twenty years a to,
And cases maie at that t ime and worn ever
mnoe. are nearly as irood as new. Read tbe
following, which Is only one of many hundreds;
your jewelers can tell of similar ones:
Mansfield, Pa., May is. ISIS.
I have a customer who has earned one of
Bras* Patent case, fifteen years, and I knew It
two years before he gout, and It now appear*
good for ten year* longer. B. H. olmi.
Bemhmber that fas. Boss'll iha only patent
aaMYRTwasTSSS
es?p^v o e r r x t ^i&7»|
•very one. Boea’-ia the only patent ease wlOj
whl' h there is glvon a written warrant, of
which the above U a fac simiU.
Be* that you get the guarantee wit* eapa
ease. Aak your jtw»lar for lUtumtefi oka-
New Goods! New Goods!
NEW STORE.
ALLEN, WHEELER & CO.
Have just opened out in their New Building, southwest corner of Main
Street and West Avenue, a
A BRAN NEW, WELL-SELECTED AND EXTENSIVE STOCK OF
GENERAL MERCHANDISE.
OUR STOCK EMBRACES
A Superior Line of Dry Goods,
4 Large Assortment of Boots and Shoes.
A Good Variety of Hats, Notions, &c.
THE BEST AND CHEAPEST PRINTS, DOMESTICS, COTTONADE9, 40.,
And many other good, which we cannot undertake here to enumerate.
We keep on hand
A GENERAL LINE OF GROCERIES.
Which we can tell at cheap as the cheapest.
In prices we mean to show the public we will not be undersold. Olv# u a
call, and be convinced. We are prepared to furnish
SUPERIOR BRANDS OF FERTILIZERS.
A. J. YOUNG,
Corn and Rye Whiskies,
Wines, Gins and Brandies,
MAIN STREET, Cedartown. Georgia.
Sole Agent for COX, HILL A THOMPSON*®
STONE MOUNTAIN WHISKIES,
In Cedartown!
I keep auoh liquors as msy be used as a beverage or for medical purpose*
with perfect safe y. tT Give me a call. Good treatment guaranteed.
J. F. EAVES’
Restaurant and Confectionery.
LT. XU* Old Stand.
M*als Served at all Honrs.
LANDBETHS*
m
SiEDSKBEST j
liwirSSHl
881
PARTING.
The sun Is lying in its western chamber,
Tbe stately ships are sailing on the bay,
And cloud-hands spread a coverlet of amber,
Border’d with brown, above the drowsy day;
The opaline skies will shine the same to-morrow.
And white sails pass gilded with amber light;
Bnt the coming shadow of a parting sorrow
Shall dim the glory of to-morrow night.
Now, in the West, the radiance grows dimmer,
The first faint star comes, shining tremulously,
And red rays from the distant lighthouse glimmer
Across the foam-capp’d waters of the sea;
To-morrow’s dusk will bring the trembling starlight
And wind will chase the white waves to the shore,
And fitfully again will come the far light
Of warning lamp; but thou wilt come no more.
Ever and everywhere spectres of parting
Stretch forth their weird hands, saddening oar
mirth;
Ever and everywhere hot tears are starting.
Where stands the empty chair upon the hearth;
But Nature brightly smiles, though hearts are bro
ken;
Taking at last her children to her breast,
And kindly hides in her mate mounds ail token
Of the great heart-throbs of a life’s unrest.
BESIEGING BIS HEART.
A clergyman hasn’t any business to
be a single man,” said Mrs. Brushby.
“Certainly not,” acquiesced Miss
Foxe.
“But I dare say he’s ‘engaged,” slyly
remarked the plump widow, with a
sidelong glance of her green eyes, which
seemed to dilate and contract, like those
of a middle-aged cat.
“No, he’s not,” said Miss Foxe. “At
least I heard him tell Colonel Copley
that he was entirely fancy free.”
“Humph!’’said Mrs. Brushby. “Then
there's no reason why he shouldn’t
marry and settle here at Fxmar. ”
'Exmar, indeed!” said Miss Foxe,
who had accepted her own old maiden
hood as a foregone conclusion. “There’s
nobody here for him to marry—only fac
tory girls, and Colonel Copley’s six
daughters, the youngest of whom is
three and twenty, to select from.”
The green eyes scintillated sharply,
“Why shouldn’t he marry either you
or me, Felicia Foxe ?” asked Mrs Brush-
by.
Miss Foxe gave a sort of gasp, as if
she had attempted to swallow some mor
sel too large for her.
‘ ‘Why, he ain’t 30 !” said she.
“Neither am I,” said Mrs. Brushby.
“No, Cornelia Brushby, there ain’t no
sort of use coming that sort of game over
me,” said Miss Foxe, fairly aroused at
last into antagonism. “Yon were eight
and twenty when yon married Brushby,
and he’s been dead and buried these ten
good years. ”
Mrs. Brusnby laughed.
“Felicia,” said she, “you’re worse
than an old family record. Don’t you
see, there’s people older than their years,
and people younger I I’m one of the
latter; and I don’t see why I can’t marry
Mr. Selwyn, if I once make up my mind
to do so. ” .
So Mrs. Brushby took up the brown
yarn that she had been buying at Felicia
Foxe’s thread and needle store, and went
home.
Her niece, a tall, pale girl, with yellow
hair like braids of dead gold, a transpa
rent pale skin and sad, hazel eyes, was
setting the table.
“How slow you are, Clara !”*said Mrs.
Brushby, snappishly. “I supposed, of
course, tea would be all ready by the
time I came back.”
“I’m sorry for the delay, aunt,” said
Clara, timidly, “but I was detained at
the factory.”
“There, that will do. I don’t see why
you need be flinging the factory in my
face all the time. Oh, it’s bad enough
to have a niece obliged to drudge for
her living without hearing of it forty
times a day.”
The deepest scarlet glow mounted in
to Clara Cone’s cheeks.
“I could not pay my board, aunt,”
aaid she, “if I did not earn the money
in the factory. But if the subject is
disagreeable to you I will endeavor to
avoid it.”
It was now six months since Clara
Cone had arrived, a homeless orphan,
with all her worldly belongings packed
in a shabby little traveling bag, at Mrs.
Brushby’s door.
“Aunt,” she said, trying to repress
the rising sob in her throat, “will you
give me a home? I am your sister's
orphan daughter.”
Mrs. Brushby had received her as
cordially as a fish might have done.
“I suppose you’ll have to stay,” said
Mrs. Brushby. But I didn’t die and
leave a swarm of orphans for my sister
to take care of. Oh, yes, you can stay,
and perhaps I can find yon a situation
as dressmaker’s apprentice or in a shop.
Because, of course, one cannot expect
me to keep a great girl like yon for no
thing. ”
Upon * ieh Clara bestirred herself
actively and had been thankful to obtain
a place in the pin factory, in the glen
below the village, where half a hundred
other pale-faced operatives worked for a
scanty livelihood, and Mrs. Brushby
charged her a high price for board, and
got a servant-maid’s work ont of her
before and after hours into the bargain.
“I should like to go chursh, aunt,”
Clara had ventured to say one Sunday
morning when- the maples in the glen
were all blazing in their autumn colors.
“That's jnst like you selfishness Clara
Cone!” aaid Mrs. Brushby, acidly.
'And let me stay at home, for, of course,
one of ns most stay at home, to Bee that
we are not robbed by tramps, and oook
the dinner. ”
“Bnt couldn’t I go in the evening,
aunt?”
‘Certainly not t” said Mrs. Brush by.
“I belong to the ‘Rebecca band,’ which
always meet* in the chapel on Sunday
evenings, and Deacon Halatead calls for
me in his box wagon. If you feel so
piously inclined, you can read your pray
er book at home.”
And so Clara found herself gradually
degenerating into the merest household
drudge. She vent nowhere and saw
nobody.
"Pretty 1” Mrs. Brushby would aeom-
fally remark whan a neighbor ohaneed
; to hazard an opinion concerning her
i niece.
| "Nonsense ! Just exactly like a color
less celery sprout, and never a word to
say for herself!”
And if by chance Clara was invited to
join in any of the neighborhood festivi
ties, Mrs. Brushby made haste to det
dine for her.
“Clara never goes out,” she said.
“She has no taste for such things, poor
dear.”
Until people began to believe that
Clara Cone was either a recluse or an
idiot.
The pale factory girl had just taken
the teapot off the stove, upon this espe
cial evening, when Mrs. Brushby uttered
an exclamation of surprise.
“Whisk the things into the closet,
quick, Clara,” said she. “Put the bread
liel.ind the family Bible. Don’t leave
th: t bottle of pickles on the mantle. Mr.
Seiwyn is coming. ”
A minute and a half later Mrs* Brash-
by, in her best black silk apron, greeted
the clergyman with her sweetest smile.
“My visit is intended to your niece,
Miss Cone, a®well as to yourself," said
Mr. Selwyn, after the. topic of the wea
ther had been duly discussed.
“O, Clara,” said Mrs. Brushby, sim
pering—“Clara wishes to be excused.
Clara sees no company. I really regret
the dear girl’s eccentricity, but—”
And she rolled her green eyes heaven-
•w*rd, with a deprecating motion of the
hands.
“She never comes to church,” said Mr.
Selwyn, gravdy.
i“Ah-h-h!” groaned Mrs. Brushby,
“her heart is like the nether millstone.
Ifvou knew, dear Mr. Selwyn, how I
have striven with her !”
1 Mr. Selwyn looked cornered.
b‘I am beginning a series of sermons
to young people next Sunday evening.
P»y use your endeavors to induce this
young girl to attend. ”
And Mrs. Brushby promised that she
would, and the young clergyman took
his leave.
A Highland Table D’Hote.
Ton laid Mrs. Brushby.
aunt, don’t ask me !” said
Clara, with tears in the limpid eyes.
“What a goose you are !” said Mrs.
Bmsliby. “As if it made any earthly
difference ! And I must have the dress
to wear to church to-morrow evening.
Mr. Selwyn is to preach the first of a
series of sermons to young people, and
I’m specially interested in ’em.”
“But I never sewed on Sunday in my
life.”
“The dressmaker has disappointed
me, and I must have the dress. A few
seams more or less, what do they matter?
Fll risk your soul! And nobody need
•ever know. Only think, Clara Cone,
what I have done for you. ”
“On, aunt, I can’t!” cried Clara, in a
choked voice. It wouldn’t be right. ”
“And who sat you up as a judge of
right and wrong, I’d like to know?”
almost screamed Mrs. Brushby. “Now-
take your choice ; either finish up this
dress for me, or leave the house,”
Clara was silent for a moment Then
she spoke.
“I will leave the house,” she said.
‘ ‘And I fully approve of your decision, ”
said Mr. Selwyn’s voice, as he stepped
in from the open-doored portico, where
his knock had been drowned by the
high accents of Mrs. Brushby. “Leave
the house, Miss Cone, and I will see
that a refuge is provided for you at the
home of Miss Foxe. ”
Mrs. Brushby stood startled and dis
mayed. Clara Cone, pale and silent,
laid her hand on the minister's arm and
left the room and the house.
Honest Miss Foxe was amazed when
Clara Cone took refuge with her.
Well,” she declared. “I always
knew that Cornelia Brushby was a
regular grinder, but I did suppose she
had some Chris tain decency about her.
Yes, child, you are weloome to my spare
room, and I sha’n’t charge yon any
board. I dare say you will lend a hand
now and then, when I’m busy; and your
company will be a deal of comfort to
me.”
But Miss Foxe didn’t have that “com
fort” long. Mr. Selwyn had become
interested in the pale, clear-eyed factory
girl, and, before the wild roses blos
somed along the verge of the woods, the
parsonage had a mistress, and Mr. Sel
wyn no longer came under the head of
“unmarried clergymen.”
Mrs. Brushby’s tender aapirations
were blighted in the bud; bnt a bald-
headed old bachelor bought the factory
just about that time, and Mr3. Brushby
transferred her attentions to the new
comer—and, with many nods and winks,
she gives the general public to under
stand that Mr. Selwyn is her rejected
lover.
“Yon see,” said Mrs. Brushby, with
her green eyes of confiding artlessness
uplifted, “I never could reconcile myself
to the trials of a minister’s wife. ”
Down In Victor.
“Ninety day* fur nothin’?" exclaimed
Orrin C. Brown, as they took him out of
the workhouse and re-arrested him on
another old charge. “I ain’t guilty, an’ I
wan’t guilty afore. But ye see it’s like
this: I’m only an ole widower, anyhow,
an’ I live alone, an’ I can’t prove nothin,
even if they charge me with murder? Jes’
think of the chance a man has when he's
got a wife to swear to everything he takes
it into his head to lie about? But there a ; n’t
no law for the protection of single folks!"
“What were you in for?” asked the dep
uty sheriff, as he tested the iron bracelets
to make Bure that Orrin C. Brown would
remain with him long enough to answer.
“Fnr steaUn’ a little fire-wood that I
never took—an’convicted jea because I’m
a widower.”
“And do you know what they want you
for now down in Victor?”
"Yea, I s’pose so; five dollars worth of
cornstalks were minin’ about the same
time aa the fire-wood an’ me—an’ now I
hain’t got no wife to prove that I wan’t
therel”
A mask oI gold hid** all dtformMaa,
I had been improving my mind lately,
reading books of travel—‘ ‘A ride in Petti
coat and Slippers,” “A Trip to Manitoba,”
“A Daring Voyage Across the Atlantic,”
“Journeys in Canoes Down Foreign Ri
vers”—every description of adventure,
toil and travel. Fired with ambition, I
longed to travel. However, I am only
a little widow, fragile in appearance,
and not too courageous in reality (in
fact, my sisters laughed excessively at
the mere idea of my traveling); so I
thought petticoats and slippers must be
an uncomfortable way of seeing savage
countries, and to which I really did not
feel qnite equal, and I preferred a trip
to Scotland. It sounds easy, but then
it is very romantic ; and there is always
the chance of the coach upsetting
(which, by-the-by, one did the other
day, and several people were hurt), or
the steamer blowing up, or oneself being
blown off a precipice, to add zest and
danger to the undertaking. I traveled
alone with a maid—maids are trouble
some creatures, still it is a great thing
when one is tired tc have one’s dressing-
gown laid ont, and one’s muddy boots
pulled off; so I had to endure her. Of
oourse she had no soul; she never ad
mired the Bunsets, bnt leant back
munching apples; she could not descry
a charm in hunting up butterflies and
killing them with chloroform—it cer
tainly alwayB gave me a shudder to per
form this office ; it was so terribly like
vivisection ; nor did she care a bit for
all the sweet little wild flowers I picked
as we went along, and which, indeed,
did fade dreadfully before we reached
our destination. I even caught her
throwing some .exceptionally decayed
ones ont of the railway carriage window,
with the exclamation, “My goodness,
what a lot of muck!” The railway
traveling was dull enough, I allow
tribes of tourists getting in and out at
every station, and looking hot, angry or
discontented; slamming down their bas
kets and bundles of weeds and damp
ferns tied np in handkerchiefs upon onr
wincing feet, or grumbling because we
did not immediately make room for a fat
papa, mamma, and daughters beside ns
—why should we? they were no ac
quaintances of ours—or very tall, very
sunburnt, very ruddy young men with
alpen-stocks, which they planted firmly
in front of them at the imminent risk of
putting ont our eyes. All these little
events were very ordinary, and, I must
say, disagreeable. Brasher, my maid,
thought so too, I could see. Bnt, then,
when we fairly reached the Highland
scenery, where fairy-like Bilver streams
tumbled down the aides of steep rocks
that looked as if made for the purpose;
where biroh firs and mountain ashes
clung lovingly to crested hills, and deep
purple tips reached away up through a
dim curling mist into the clear blue sky,
while real bums or torrents or whatever
else is the proper name for them ram
bled and dashed along in happy showers
of milk-white spray far below us—I did
feel that traveling was very nice.
Then, too, I began my first experience
on a table d’hote. When we reached the
little country inn, half smothered in
laroh and ash trees, staring right up a
beautiful valley that Beemed to fade
away into a kind of regiment of dark
blue hills, each popping up to look over
the other’s head; of course, I asked for
a sitting room. “Ye can have one, mem;
but there’s just the common room and
the coffee room, where ve’ll tak’ yer
meals. ” I had never taken meals before,
like the servants; I had always dined;
however, there was no help for it; and
now at last I felt I was really exploring,
really roughing it. Mine was a stuffy
little bedroom, with red moreen curtains
and the chambermaid and waiter wash
ing the tea things and quarreling and
making it up jnst outside my door; so I
was not sorry when the bell rang, or ra
ther tolled (for it sounded jnst like a
church bell) for dinner. I walked down
the staire with my usual dignity—no
thing gives so much effect to a small
woman as dignity—and perceived a
good-looking young lady, with clouds of
fuzzy hair and a jersey-bodv, just in
front of me. ‘ ‘I’ll follow her, ” I thought;
and so I did—into the servant’s dining
room, where a waiter, running after me,
explained that I was wrong and brought
me triumphantly into the dining hall.
The latter had an imposing effect, pan
eled ceiling, sides and doors of polished
pine, a quantity of flaring mineral oil
lamps on the table, a few artificial flow
ers, and round about fifty people all
eating sonp. I took my place, while my
heart sank and my appetite faded away.
This was indeed “taking” meals, not
dining. “Oxtail on giblet?” a hoarse
voice murmured at my elbow; and be
fore I even knew that I had answered, a
smoking bowl of soup stood in front of
me, into which I absently plunged my
electro-plated spoon. How I wished
now I had brought Brasher ! Bnt then
I reflected maids must never be taken
out of their proper sphere; and if she
had dined with me then, she might ex-
peot to do so in the future at home.
Indeed, a widow is so lonely she wonld
gladly even dine with her maid.
Presently, as nobody seemed to pay
any attention to me, I ventured to look
around; and I was struck by one fact—
almost all the women were in mourning.
such as it is very chic now to wear, bnt
in real nnoompromising mourning, jet
brooches, and all that sort of thing. I
thought with dismay of my own dark-
blue gown and amber tie; for my period
of weeds was over. What did it mean ?
Was it the livery of the table d’hote?
Was it oonsidered good taste ? Or were
they really in such grief that they had
eleoted to travel in order to disperse
some ef their sorrow? I could not de
cide, so I looked again. Than I saw
that almost all th* men were clergymen,
and the rest rongh-looking people in
ahooting-ooata, with tannad fooas. Be
tide me, on one aide, as elderly gaatle-
man of amiable appoarance, trade un
mistakably marked upon him; on the
other, a lad with aqniline nose and
retreating chin. I oould not tackle him,
for I Always detest boys or any men
under thirty. I turned to my other
neighbor, rather uncertain, if it was the
thing to speak to one’s neighbor, and
said: “Do you think it will rain?”—I
notioed afterwards that it was raining ;
but then one cannot be expected to
think of everything—and the old gentle
man answered pleasantly that he thought
it would. After that we got on capitally.
We began talking on all sorts of subjects,
even the Academy; he had seen a great
many pictures that I had somehow over
looked, and I felt quite at my ease and
at home, and laughed jnst as I do when
I am happy, when a sharp “ Luke, my
dear, don’t yon see I want the salt?”
from the wife on the other side brought
us np short, and I had to hold my tongue
while my neighbor soothed his better
half’s irritated feelings.
At the head of the table was a parson,
evidently looked upon as a person of
importance, for reference was made to
his opinion on all subjects, from Church
questions to trout-fishing. The man
next him was stoat and jocular, and car
ried on a running conversation with the
waiter, in this wise—“Yes Ill take some
more beef and some of the greens—at
least;” on being corrected and informed
that they were not greens, bnt French
beans, “at least they’re green, which the
greens never are. Now, then, give me
some strawberry jam ! Who ever heard
of a Scotch meal without strawberry
jam ?” Opposite were a spruce little
oouple—she with polished hair braids
and best silk neckerchief and brooch
he in spotless black, like an undertaker
out of place, even the sparse hairs on
his head black and shiny and funereal.
They conversed much together amiably,
and he remarked that 7 o’clock was qnite
a heathenish hour to dine at; 6 o’clock
was late enough in all conscience. The
meal was very plentiful and very good,
and every one did justice to it except
myself, who, after the remark abont the
salt, felt distinctly snubbed.
The next morning, after I descended
to breakfast, I again sat next the same
family, bnt this time it was next the
lady. I attempted, in the intervals of
scones and buttered toast and newly-
gathered honey, quite delicious to an
English gourmet, to hazard a slight re
mark. The lady tossed her head, and
said, “Indeed!" I felt further efforts
were hopeless ; and there was my friend
of last night at the head of the table,
not even daring to throw me a glance of
approval. I drew myself up and looked
haughtily, as I can do when I like. But
the mother could smile well enough
when she chose, as she proved presently
when her good-looking daughter -asked
for jam. I wondered what would have
been the result had I asked for jam. To
my surprise, later in the day, when I
had finished my tramp among the hills
with Brasher—the views were lovely,
but Brasher’s petticoats got wet, and
she did not care for the walk—the same
elderly lady came up to me at the sta
tion, where I was sitting partly on a ooop
of chickens, partly on my own portman
teau, very damp and sticky with ladies ;
and said in an unctious voice, “I think
yon said you were going to Inverness,
would you mind taking charge of my
daughter?” I felt flattered, pleased,
flabbergasted, all in one moment. What
had happened ? • Hail the husband
apologized or the wife forgiven ? Or
did she think, after all, a little widow at
a tabe d'hote was entitled to some indul
gence, or perhaps she imagined I was a
duchess in disguise ? I never knew. Bnt
the girl was very nioe, and I took care
of her aa far as Inverness, mnch to
Brasher’s disgust.
Blood and the Avenger.
A Telescope Story.
The San Francisco Call tells an extraor
dinary story respecting a monster telescope
made by Professors Lefevrc and Longtoor,
French scientists, aDd erected at San Fran
cisco. The lenses are twenty feet in di-
ametor, and this is what happened when
the astronomers and their frinds turned the
instrument to the heavens : M. Dufrere
was the first to apply his eye to the eye
piece of the telescope. For fully five min
utes he looked on in speechless amazement,
then, without a word, turned away to hide
his emotion. One by one the gentlemen
present tested the telescope, exhibiting
their astonishment in various ways. The
planet which happened to cast its beams
ipon the great speculum was Man, and the
revelation is too wonderful for credit The
eyepiece of the lowest magnifying power
was first placed on, when the planet pre
sented a most astonishing sight. The power
ful lens brought the planet nearer than that
of the moon has ever been brought by the
most powerful telescope. The green of the
sea was brought out in unmistakable color,
and one could almost imagine that be could
see the waves upon the surface. There be
fore the eye was spread out a splendid pano
rama of hill and dale, dark patches that must
be covered by forests, great yollowish patch
es that looked like autumn fields, silvery
threads that must be rivers, and several
unmistakable volcanoes in action.
Tbe Boosting Tree.
A tree was recently brought from Aus
tralia to Nevada, which has been in the
habit at night of going to roost like the
chickens. The leaves fold together, and
the ends of the tender twigs coil themselves
up like the tail of a well-conditioned pig.
After one of the twigs has been stroked or
handled, the leaves move uneasily and are
in a sort of mild commotion for a minute
The postmaster of Mahanoy City, Pa,
recently received a letter signed ‘Michael
Gillaspie,” containing a well-written ac
count of the murder of Matthew Dono-
hoe, a young man twenty-eight years of
age, and of the subsequent killing of his
murderer, and it asked that the poet-
master deliver the letter to Donohoe’s
family, who were supposed to reside in
Mahanoy City. Mr. Patrick Donohoe,
the father of the murdered man, was one
of the oldest residents of that place,
having lived at Cole’s patch many years
ago, afterward moving into town, and
keeping the tavern at the Firet Ward
poll. He had a family of several girls
and one boy. The girls went to live ont
in Philadelphia (where their father join
ed them last Christmas) and the boy
Matthew became of a roving wild dispo
sition, and wandered off, abont five years
ago, into the western country. The
family received occasional letters inform
ing them of his whereabouts nntil some
thing over a year ago when they lost all
trace of the rover, until the letter above
referred to was received and handed to
Mr. Thomas Donohoe, a relative in this
plaoe, who forwarded it to the family.
As near as we can learn, the facts stated
in the letter are as follows; Early last
Winter “Matty” left Denver, Colorado,
for a point in New Mexico to engage in
the construction of a new railroad. The
only store at the place waa kept by a
Spaniard, who, in addition to less harm
ful things, kept a good stock of frontier
whiskey. To this place Donohoe and
his fellow-workman, Michael Gillaspie,
went one evening with the intention, we
suppose, of trying the quality of the
Spaniard's fluids. Gillaspie returned
shortly to the railroad camp and went to
sleep. The next morning, not seeing
Donohoe in the camp, he went to the
Spaniard’s to inquire after him. Thu
latter stated that Donohoe had left for
the camp shortly after the departure of
his companion,bnt while they were talk
ing one of the laborers on the railroad
came hurrying in with the news that a
man was lying dead in the woods a short
distance off. Gillaspie turned to the
Spaniard and said;
“Yon did this.”
The Spaniard denied having perpe
trated the deed.
Gillespie reiterated; “Yon did it, and
in a few hours you will follow him. ”
This threat was no idle one,for a short
time after Gillaspie got together a hand -
ful of desperate characters, Bach as are
commonly to be fonnd in the construc
tion gangs of the Western railroads.
They visited the Spaniard’s, drank his
whisky, engaged him in a quarrel, and
finished up by kicking the life out of
him on the floor of his own store, and
then gutted the establishment. It was
a complete job, and a true specimen of
Western vengeance and lawlessness.
Gillaspie in his letter states that the
murdered Spaniard had killed four or
five persons in his lifetime, and was con
sidered a sure shot and a dangerous
character.
loe Cream and Glne.
Notin complimentary or fancy black,
placed in its new quarters before the leave*
began to stand up like the hair on the tail
of an angry cat, and soon the whole plant
waa in a quiver. It gave out a mod pun
gent odor, which filled the house and waa
■o sickening that it was found necessary to
open the doors and windows. It was folly
an hour before the plant calmed down and
folded ita leaves in peace. It wouid proba
bly not have given up the fight even then
had it DU been that its time tor going to
roost had arrived. The whole household
now etend in awe of that plant.
Wo love the evil we do until wo
for it
Envy shooteth at others and woundokh
himself.
‘ ‘Is there any pure ice-cream? Well, ”
New York confectioner said, “I
claim to make ice-cream of pure ma
terials, but I cannot afford to sell it at
the price laid down by manufacturers,
They charge $1 a gallon, I charge $1.50.
and, although I give my customers a
pure article for their money, I don’t sup
pose that I make nearly as much profit
out of a gallon as the large firms make
who sell it 50 cents cheaper.”
“Why?”
“The reason is plain enough. If you
read this postal card it will give yon the
key to the whole mystery:—
‘Dear Sir:—We herewith sendsam-
ple; please give it a fair trial. Price 50
cents per pound.
1 ‘ Respectfully yours, .
This sample packet contained two
ounces of what was called gelatine, and
is said to make one and a-half quarts of
crystalline jelly. In reality,” the con
fectioner continued, “it is nothing more
nor less than a fair quality of glue, which
can be bought at any drag store. The
cost is estimated at from 35 cents to 30
cents a pound. It is not even gelatine,
for gelatine is usually sold in sheets.
These two ounces are sufficient to make
two gallons of ice-cream. It is first
melted in lake-warm milk and then
poured into the freezer to give the cream
a body. Nearly all the large manufactu
rers use it, and in proportion to the
amount of glne they put in, the less
cream they require. It is quite easy to
tell when ice-cream is adulterated. It
has a puffy appearance, somewhat like
Charlotte Basse, and if you plunge a
spoon into it yon will almost feel the an
nulling ont ’ After eating it a peculiar
sensation is felt in the throat This
arises from two causes: First, from the
gelatine, so-called; and secondly, from
the adulterated flavoring that is used.
For instance, the lemon flavor is obtain
ed from oil of lemons: the strawberry
flavor from concentrated strawberry,
which, in turn, is made from ether; the
vanilla extract from alcohol, as it does
not pay to make it from the beans, which
cost $10 per pound. That is how some
manufacturers get their flavoring. Sinos
this refined glue has been introduced,
corn-starch is used less extensively. It
is not uncommon for big dealers to put
bone-dust in their white sugar, so that
yon see there is another item of adulter
ation.”
“What does s quart of pure ice-cream
cost you?”
“A quart of pure cream costs 20
cents. I can buy cream for 15 cents,
but it isn't pure. Four fresh eggs cost
8 cents, a half-pound white standard
sngar 5 cents, flavoring 3 cents, ioe and
salt 3 cents. Total, 39 cents. This will
give a little over a quart, and I generally
put the actual cost of a quart at about 30
cents, or $1.20 per gallon, leaving a mar
gin of 30 cents profit. The foot is, no
wholesale manufacturer can produce
pure ioe-eream at $1 a gallon, and there
fore they have to put glne into it in
order to make a big profit on thair sale*
The Want Commissioners of Nsw
Hampshire, in their annual report, state
that the total deposits in 84 banka
amount to -$$3,000,000. The
havu s surplus of $3,338,000.