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Sparkles on a Leg. A PAIR OF LOVF.RS FAIRLY CAUGHT — THR BIO BROTHER IN ROAD AS USUAL. Be it known that there abideth in the good city of Vallejo a youug, affa b!e, handsome, deserving young man who has, or rather intends to have, for bis affianced an equally band- i some and amiable young lady of this same burg. Be it also known that this young lady rejoices in the possession of a brother, two years her senior—on# of those frolicsome, good for-nothing sort of scamps that sisters most do love and idolize. Well—this young lady, one even¬ ing la*t week, bad a sort of gather¬ ing of young friends hi he i i a s house, at which inu-ic, gam-s and a general good time were tb« chief features o' the occasion The g rad for-nothing brother of course, assis¬ ted his sister in doing the honors of the even g, out owin i to a sligh' head acm c h- lit a cigar, and as w-fts supposed, took :i walk, *-x using him self from the c mpany. The festivities proceeded until about 12 o’clock, when a general breakitig^tip occured. The com pi' nr went, up stairs to g t th -ir hit's, shawls, etc. and among them, f ooarse, was the young lover, who lingsrod ah m till the compauy had re r ir««d b. -low I was prep iring l • leave. K- i las one deoen led, ne to*k tus “darling’s” band in hw au-1 teuderly pulled her insula of a small room over ths hall—the bed room <>f a good-for-nothing brother. As a dilatory good-bye had to be said (and the company balow knew it, too), our hero and heroine sat on tho edge of the bed, in total darkness, and whispered the usual s ft tb ngs that lovers generally whisper on such oc- ©aaions. They had gone on in this style for some time when the “dear one” remarked: “Harry, they must think it strange j we stay so long. Now, let’s go down i atftirs.” “Only one more, my precious t“ he responded; and a series of peculiar sounds saluted the atmosphere. “Now, Harry, don’t! What will think do.' a stairs V” f “Never miud wbat they think, dearest. Tell me, Mollie, do you really love me?” and he clasped, or was supposed to clasp, her affecliou-| ately about the waist. “Ever so much, Harry, and you know it. Oouie, we must go down.” “Bitne by, birae by, dear. You know how much I love to hear you tell me those sweet words. Do you mean it, Mollie ?” “Wbat can I say. Harry, io con¬ vince you? You know all my thoughts, aud you know that you alone possess my heart.” “Oh, sweet, delicious words. I am fairly intoxicated with joy, Mol- lie dear. “I believe you, my boy; but when you get through with that d—d non- sense, I hope you'll get off my leg and clear out of ibis, canae I wan t j to go to sleep I” The brother had spoken! The ; young rascal had been in bed for an hour, and the lovers had actually been sitting on his leg making the most} desnerate sort of love. The twain precipitately descended, look- ing an sU-epish as two mortals could. The n-'xt morning the young lady didn't appear at the breakfast ta ble. No one could divine the reasoD but the good for-nothing brother, but he held his peacs till dinner time, when he broke out with— “Sis, the next time you get to T .‘T . ler I ,M . ‘ “ l0 "' .?“• . o h.r men » to *>rt upon, ,1 J„„ pl..w, tor •!»< so ttbrn^b nob, „g r HestibmitAei to several good ! na- tured Ihu-ii.iR, but. h« assnr«<l his j sister that, h’-reafier, wheuover ‘ h-- ! Harry” cat,on to see her, he won ror that bis bedroom was locked — Valh’j > Chronicle. Au exchange, telling ol a fire, s iys “a naan jump' d fr< m h s window 't a oialit-dress,” and no* th** Boatoi Tost dr-sires to know wbat in th« mischief he had a window in his night-dress for. Willie asked bis mother where the stars eame trom H>r reiily was: “My sod, I do not km-w.” “Well, I do,” le remarked, “the moon lad eiu,” TOCCOA NEWS By Edw SCHAEFER- l yAT * VTT * DaY dreams. For tin- News. Did you ever spend an hour or so in deep contemplation of the past? 1 tini k it soiut-Uuies bci,slits one to r a in m*i>t and take a rotro- f Cl. ul the past. In it wo may soiui-tuues see where we can make a change of our preaeut course for the et'er. L >ok back t« the sweet sun- ii, hour, of happy childhood, when t- firs! knelt on rue knees of a fond and loving mother, What pleasant in inories such meditations bring to mind! Climb up, with the aid of memory, the ladder of Time, and what do we see? Ob, gay hourR of bliss, long happy years, farewell ! Farewell to the halcvou days ot long ago ! But wh all this ? We should “Mourn not vainly o'er the past. For its heeils are dead and gone; Weep not lor the woes thou hast. Greater peace may yet be won. If the winter of thy life Seem all desolate and sad, Spring shall come with flowerets rife So thy heart may yet be glad.” With straining eyes I have gazed ihIo the dim and misty future, but not one single ehee.ful ray cast its gleams backward upon the paih of one where fragrant flowers seldom bloom. I have transplanted them from the gardens of the Past to those of the Present, and have nur¬ tured and watered them with the tettrs 0 f re g re t, but still they would wltber and q; e The footsteps of the loved aud lost sometimes ring mockingly through the usually dull aud silent halls of memory Ail this aud much more Bpeaks scornful Q f ,j Je ^ aMt a „d disparagingly olj the future. But I do not intend to write alto- gotber in this strain I purpose to speak of the future, no matter how <, lo0 my it may appear, and try to paint it u glowing colors, that oth¬ ers may lie encouraged and pass over the breakers iu the ocean of Time with safety. How true that “into each life some rain must fall.” The shore of some of our past lives are strewn with wrecks— “Wrecks ot hopes that set sail with glue- Wrecks of love sinking silently.” Already I have dwelt too much upon the pas*, but my pen asetned to l>« controlled by some invisible bemg whicll lttC i my thoughts back l0 ago. Of the lost friends £ j oye lo tb , nk> an( j tiopiug to lbem a5 a 1Uj but dread the jurnsy from time to eternity.— speakiug ->f this, George D. Prentice, one of the most brilliant man oBr (.gun £j-y ever knew, says, ‘we ' do not wan t to g0 though the dark valley, although its dark passage may lead tQ Paradise; we do not wan £ £ 0 j a y flown in the grave, even whh pri , JCBS for bed fellows.' In the beautiful drama of Ion, the hope of immortality, so eloquently uttered by the death-devoted Greek finds deep response iu every ful soul When about to yield his existence as a sacrifice to fate, nis Clemautha asks if they should meet «Ll again, to which he replies: ‘] tow ttot d.wlfl q„„«,o 0 o' | ooked et.rnal-of tb. ^ ttol Ho. for,, r-of the stars among whose fields of azure my raised spirit has walKed in glory . A! were dumb; but as I gaze up...; thy living face, I feel that, there something in the love that mantle., through its beauty that, c-annot svboliy perieb We shall meet agai Cl' niauthu ! In my next I sh.-il common e t vtile what, I int<-nd“d from the first — a serial story—“It Might Have Been,” This is merely a “preface” to it. Lena i. I. heart like rose leaves in a drawer, to sweeten every object around them and to bring hope to the weary- Devoted to News. Poif^j; Agriculture and General TOCCOA, GA., MARCH 20, 1880. I(0« I CAME TO HE MARK LED. It iu.\y bo funny, but I've done it. I’ve go: a rib and a baby. Shadows departed—oyster stews, brandy cock tads, cigar boxes, boot jacks, absconding shirt, buttons, whist and dominoes. Shadows present—hoop skirts, band-boxes, ribbons, gaiters, long stockings, juvenile cresses, trumpets, little willow chairs, cr dies, bibs, paragoric, hive sictij' fa-, tor oil, Godfrey’s cordial, soo hr g sirup, rhubarb, senna, salts, rj *V aud doctor's bills. Shadows future —more nine pound babies viore hive sirup, etc., etc. I'll jnst tell yon how I got caught. I was always the darudest, most tea-custard bashful fellow yon ever did see; .t was kinder iu my line to be taken with the shakes every time I saw a pretty gal approaching me, and Id cross the street any time rather than face one; ’twasn’t because I didn’t like the critters, for if 1 was behind a fence looking through a knot hole I couldn’t look at one long enotf^u Well, my sister Lib gave a party one night, and I stayed away from home because I was too bashful to face the music. I bung around the house, whistling “Old Dan Tucker,” danc¬ ing to keep ray feet warm, watching the heads bobbing up and down be¬ hind the window curtains, and wish- ing,the thundering party would br.-ak up so I could get to my room. I smoked a bunch of cigars, and as it was getting late and mighty un¬ comfortable, I concluded to shin up the door-post. No sooner said than done, and I soon found myse f anug in rip 1 bed Da-re "Now.jmya J ^.nd “let h« tw your out !” Aud, cuddling under the quilts, Morpheus grabbed me. I was dreaming of soft shell crabs and stewed trine aud was having a good time, when some one knocked at the door and woke me up “Rap again I laid low “Rap rap, rap?” Then I heard a whispering, aud I knew there was a whole ralt of gals outside. “Rap, rap ?” Then Lib sings out, “Jack, are you there? “Yes,” says I. Then came a roar of laughter. “Let us iu” says she. “I won't,” saysl; “cau’t you let a fellow alone?” “Are you abed!” says she. “I am," says I. “Get up,” says she. “I won’t,” says^I Then came another hu'gh, By than- der ! I began to get riled. “Get out, you petticoated scarecrows r I cried; can’t yon get a bean without hunting a fellow out of bed ? 1 won’t go home with you—I won t so you may as well clear out ?” And, throwing a boot at the door. I fslt better. But, presently, oh, mortal, buttons! I heard a still, small voice, vary much like sister Lib’s, aud it said, “Jack, yon have to get up, for the uirl’s things are in there?” Oh! Lord, what a pick lc! think of me in bed, all covered with shawls muffs, bonnets and cloaks, aud twenty girls outside the door waiting to get iu ! If I had stopped to think, I should have died on the spot. As it, was, I rolled out i.o„? tbo bonnet- wo aud ribbons i» . k»«T. -S«»»V -»• liner, in .wrj to.e'ion. I tod to dress in the dark for theie wftS a crack iu the door, and guls wib peep— and the way I furab ed about was death ou straw hats. Hi critical moment cama I opened the door and found myself right among the women Oh, my bon- net!” cried one. 1 ‘Oh, my leghorn ?’ one 1 another, and they pitched in I’hey pulled me this way and that, boxed iny ears, and one bright— ^yed little piece Sal her u was—put her arms around my neck and kissed me right on my lips. Hu nature couldn’t ,'apd tto'. I gave her as good as she sen . 1 was ihe first time I ever got a taste, and it was powerful good. I believ- I con’d batfe kistfed that ga! freup Julius Caesar to the fourth of July “Jack, - ’ said she, “we are sorry to disturb you, hut won’t you see mc honir ?” “Yes,” said I, “I will.”' I did do it, and had another smack at the gate, too. After that, we took a bind of mrtle-doving after each other, both of us sighing like a barrel of new cider when we were away from each other. ’Twaa at the close of a glorious summer day —the sun was setting behind a dis¬ tant bog pen —the chickens were go¬ ing to roost— the bull frogs were commencing their evening songs — the pollv woes in their native mud puddles, ,,, preparing „ themselves , ; were for the , shades ,, of „ night, . , . and Sal and . myself sat upon an antiquated back log, listening to the music of nature, such as treetoads, roosters, and grunting pigs, and now and ^ ^ mell(JW rIJllslc of a distant . aekasa wafted was to 0l3r ears by the genile ziphyrs that sighed among the mullein stalks, and came heavy laden with the delicious odor of ben roosts and pig styes, The last lingering rays of the se ting sun, glancing from the brass buttons of a solitary horsemau, shone through a knot hole in tbo hog pen, full in Sal's face, dyeing her hair with an orange-peel hue, and show¬ ing off my thread bare coat to a bad advantage—one of my arms was around Sal’s waist, my hand resting on the small of her back—she was toying with my auburn locks of jet- black hue—she was almost gone, and I was ditto. She looked like a , s p( . r dvft)fc , mth the bie . and I ojiit k like a mud-turtle ],M J 1>all . ., Sai s , iyH r -4 , Qe musical as i iho notes of , a 'ly ing swan, “will you hnve me ?” She turned her ei es heavenward, clasped me by the hand, had an at¬ tack of the heaves and blind stag¬ gers, and, with a sigh that drew her shoe-strings to her p.date, said “Yes,” She gave clear out then and squatted in my lap. I hugged her until I broke my suspenders, and her breath smelt of onions which she hud eaten the week be- fore. Welt, to make a long story short, she. set the day, and we practiced for four weeks every night how we would walk into the room to bo married, till we got so we could walk as gracefully as a couple of Muscovy ducks. The night, the company, and the minister came, the sigual was given, and arm in arm we marched through the crowded hall. We wer# just entering the parlor door, when down I went kerslap on the oilcloth pulling Sal aftei tne. Some cussed tellow dropped a banana skin on the floor, and floored me. It split an awful hole in my cassimeres. It was too late to back out, so we marched in and were spliced, and taking a seat I watched the kissing the bride operation. My grooms¬ man kissed her till I jumped up to take a slice, when, oh horror ! a lit¬ tle 9 year-old imp had crawled be¬ hind me, ami had pinned my coat to the chair and id jumping up I again lell sprawling on the floor, to the admiration of the astonished multitude. I was finally put to bed aud '.here all mv troubles ended. Good night. An apology—“But-, Freddie, how could you ever think cf calling auntie stupid? Immediately go to her and tell her that you are sorry.” Freddie goes to auntie and says, “I am sorry you are stupid.” Pat—“Do you buy rags and boDes here?” Merchant— “We do surr.” Pat—Thin, be Jabers, put , me on the Beauties often ale old mm They set such a value on themselvs tbe y don’t find a purohasir tilt the market is cloetd { TERMS—$1 50 A YEAR NO. 37. Encouraging Words from a Sew Set¬ tler. Greenville, C. H , Oct 10'h, 1879. To Editor Southern Herald : Dear Sib.—H aving a few mo¬ ments to spare, I hope it may not be amiss if I devote them in giving a few more points Tor the information of my many Northern who are looking in this direction for a future homo; for there are few heads of families prospecting from a Northern standpoint but will avail themselves of any and all legiti¬ mate means to so inform themselves as to , warrant .... them . in passing a good . . the opimon on resources of , a r tr J after th ? y U Up f . ° r « ^ months, and , ft bey are inter- 63 e ’ a ° rBR W1 a ' 1 ' * y H * ** testimony . at command before com l ° C ° DcWd - A “ l ° 8elf - I T thought the matter over for nearly two years before I went South prospecting for a home, which 1 found and purchased, and then went back North again and remained an- other year before I moved to it with my family. I certainly took time enough to look into the matter from every point of view within my reach, and thought I had done very very wisely, etc , but I made a very grand mistake for all that, which ,s obvious to me now, that <8. I waited too bog. I fhould have come here sooner. Sly reason for com tug were not becati8 2 I lacked a g ,otl business or living at tile North; far from it, as I had both but. I did lack good general health, a blessing that few of us know the full v^»la of until dc t piivcd of the sarne.^ HEALTHY tpuil VI The rigorous Northern weather with its many a d sudden changes was too severe for me, aud I fast wasting away; my friends told mo so and I saw it mysalf; iu fact I firmly believe that, had I remained North, it would be a m ;ro question of time—and a short time too—for me to “shuffle off this mortal coil; ’ but with tho change of country and climate 1 have experienced such a general rebuilding of my system that I am now very sorry, in leed, that I d.d not come here sooner and be benefitted physically, as l am. If I had, there would not have been so much work for nature to do for me now, but I am getting a’ong nicely and think in the course of a few more months my friends at the North will hardly know me because of the geueral change for the better I can safely say with all others who know anything of this section, for proper altitude for aomfort year round, delightful sceuery, which cannot be surpassed in grandeur and extreme healthfulness of the cli mate and country, that this is cer¬ tainly destined to be Ibegirden spot of America, to which all eyes will be directed for the mostpleasaut homes tor not only the emigrant, but the bus incss man aud capitalist; for in this country all will find pleu’y of scape for their mental, physical and money power. A hearty welcome Here the laboring man, as was as the merchant, will find ready and willing hands and heads to as; ist him in making a start, and, if needed, be advised by gemlemen ot integrity, who will prove themselves as unselfish as any he ha) ever un-t elsewhere, and who are anxious io welcome their Northern coming as bona jidc settlers their midst, who are willing to f orwar d and not retard the geueral progress ot the country, which ha9 b»*en open- up to the world by the Air Line Railroad, bringing it in direct and unbroken communication with N=w Yurk at one aud New Orleans at the > ai d down on the maps of this part, of the ‘ Sunny S rath.’' ' ?° P I,A:LR The Air Line R i’r >ad is _ a well-managed road, with a good road ed. sp endid ©qnipmeaU >• every detail, the moat gentlemanly conductors it baa *v#r been my for¬ tune to ride with, and* coxpa ©f o her officials equally civil and polite, and better than all that, maeterly i«* telligtnce at ite bead, it certainly merits the patronage of all c les ee s . T. O Down. Wouldn’t be Ball-Vexed. One would imagine that the offiee of the Water Board would be a good place to secure variety, but auoh ia far from oeing the case. Outside of the people who pay rents whan due and h*»T 0 no words about it) there la only one other class. The man who has waited until notified that the water will b* shot ©ft if he doesn’t oime to time, walks into the ofiee wi , u a , ook ot a * fll | d igait y „ a y, j jrQW Rnd rays: •‘Going to shut off my water, eb ?"* Silence on the part of the clerk. “I’d like to see you try it on me, I would! If th : s Water Board imag¬ ines that it rune the whole city it will find itself grandly mistaken 1” More silence from the e'erk. “If the water had been abut off I’d have given this board such .MU ^ H ^ hmd b-tewsI Itoan brow* beat some men, but it mosn’l try any Chrism on The clerk looks out of the window, ‘ I now refuse to pay the rates, atjJ yoj dar< . j r „ make a t „ t caM of u an(1 cirry it to tb# Supreme q )nr * j-» The C1 „ rk , hifts bi8 we igbt to tb , otll( r , 0 ^ ..y^rn carry it to the Supreme C(jnrt jf - t cost , me $10>0 QO, I h.v 9 never nuy on# to trampJt OB ^ ftnd it - 8 ^ late to ,^ oow/ . n Th(J c , erk wbUt , M| and tb . inA ig Qftnt citiz m starts for th© doqr. j retnrn8 elow1y| and m: ., No yon ca „. t brow-beat'm©.* The clerk begins making out Ilia receipt. ‘ I know my rights as an American citizen, and I will maintain them— how miict ie it 7" “Six dollar# ” “We^Rve n<? Czrr ia t .. „.jatry, j and—ta'te it out of this ten.” | “Fine day,” remarks the clerk »• he hands over the cbftt-g*. “Yes, party fair This board musn’t try to bnU-doxe me. Tat not the man to submit to any sort j of tyranny Looks like snow don't it? Is that clock right? Lo‘a of pipes fnzen up, I ’apose. Well, ; good day.” N'o Check*#, No Payee. A Chinaman hailed a street car ia Das Moines, and put himself and a heavy trunk on b tard. When tha driver calne around he demanded two fares, one for John and on© for his trunk. John handed out fiva cents and began interested is tha contemplation of the scenery. Th* ^ ri?er punched him up and eaid: ‘I want fire cants for that trunk. John grinned and again turned to the window to admire th© bean ti#s of tbu 1 ™<T'«h*P«>. and the driv©. er was c impelled again to interrupt him and demand a nickel. O'), no,* said John, ‘him no paa- sengel; him baggage, glib *»©k. fdse ?’ ‘You pay for that trunk or IT) shove it off,’ cried th# driver. ‘ Yon cheekee tluuk?’ asked Jobs. ‘N ). we don’t check trunk#.’ •You checkee Hunk and I pay fol him ’ responded John, ‘Are you g->ing to pay far tkak trunk ?’ roar d the driver, becoming exasperated. No chfekee, no payee,’ responded John, with a grin. Tha driver was about to put the pi-ce of baggage off, when John stopped him and said if he would out it on the seat of the car instead tH*; fr nt. pl»tfoxn» he would pfcy. This was done, aud as the driver move ^ '^ obn gA, smiled at the passengers blandly, ilu ^ sa ‘ £ I» no ex, ' a j clsss fH ' e fo1 ‘ ,aDk * hi “ * ot have 8 * a,ee * lle,a aa “ e ® ® 8 Meliean • man And be kept it there till be reached bis destination, Tb°>r« is nothing so effective kj • bringing a man up to the scratch as a healthy and high spirited flee. i How ituch cold can a bare bear ' bear ?