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The Daily times-enterprise. (Thomasville, Ga.) 1889-1925, September 08, 1889, Image 1

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VOL 1 -NO 101. T.HOMASVILLE, GEORGIA, SUNDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 8, '.881) 5.00 PER ANNUM (MING OUT —OUR ENTIRE STOCK OF- White Goods, HAMBURGS, —AND- REGARDLESS OF COST. COMING THROUGH THE TOWN. Tunc: “Cornin’ thro’ the Rye.” If a Christain meets a beggar, Coming through the town; And a smile would cheer the beggar, Need the Christain frown? Even tramps have some good in them, None is wholly bad; Vet we harshly judge our neighbor, If lie’s poorly clad. We are apt to think quite surely, When a body’s down. That it’s by his own fault only’ Friends and hope arc gone: Anybody may through weakness, Fall before man’s greed; Then why should we despise our brother, When lie’s most in need? If we all were just and loving, As through life wc go; Tramps would not be ever moving, Homeless to and fro; 0, my brothers, let us save them, As wc surely can; For why should one be doomed to this, Who might become a man ? When by scheming and injustice, Some men get too mmli; Multitudes must thirst and hunger, Held in Want’s hard clutch; Rich men get on without working, And with no sense of shame • Tramps are but an imitation, Eoih are just the same. . Twentieth Century. They Mist Bo. Look out for a stun ner next week. Tho Confederate Monument. Have you noticed the beautiful and artistic otitlines of the Confederate monument, at the intersection of Broad and Fletcher streets, as it stands in mute grandeur, ’ncath the swinging electric light? Vividly, as at noon day, it may be seen at midnight, from the extreme end of Broad street. It stands there, bathed in the new and strange light, a silent but eloquent witness to the love which the south has for those who died in her dctensc. In daylight, or at night, it speaks to to the passer by of the women of the south; of their never dying devotion to the memory of the brave men who faced and met death on bloody battle fields in their defense. The memory of these men will last longer than the white marble shaft which comcmoratcs their heroism. Ages may crumble the marble: the memory of the south's dead can never die. It will be embalmed in song and story; be handed down from generation to generation, serving to keep alive love ol freedom and country, so long as freedom has her votaries, or a country those to love it. All over our land, north and south, marble shafts rear their heads in commemoration of brave men who fought and died for a cause which each believed to be right. Southern shafts may not be so stately, may not have that grandeur and finish, which distinguishes these memorial monuments at the north—we have been too poor to erect such—but the modest monuments at the south are equally eloquent in telling their story of heroism, lortitude, devotion to country, and the love of the living for the dead. The banner under which they lought, and which they dyed with their blood, has been folded in defeat, and put away forever. Its folds, crim soned with the best blood of the south, will never flutter in the breeze again, but the memory ol the men who fell beneath it, will outlive marble monu ments. The heroism of, Jackson, Albert Sidney Johnson, and others who fought beneath the stars and bars, like the heroism of Grant, Hancock-, McClellan, and others, who followed the stars and stripes, is a common her itage of a common country. The southern man who cannot rise above section and feel a thrill ol pride when the story of the great leaders of the northern army is rehearsed, lacks pa triotism and love of a now re-united and common country; and the northern map who cannot feel his pulses quick ened, when the story of southern heroes are recounted, and feel that their valor added imperishable honors, as did the heroic leaders ol the northern armies, to the Amciican name, is not a repre sentative -American. I.ct the north and south cherish the memory of their dead soldiers; and while cherishing the memory of their own dead, let them not withhold that meed of admi ration and respect which those who lought on the other side are entitled to. The Haverly-Cleveland Minsrels. It is generally known, already, that this popular troupe opens the season here early in next month. In speak ing of thejr performance, a few nights since, in Louisville, Ky., the Courier- Journal says: “The management of the Haverly- Cleveland minstrels must have been greatly gratified last evening to note the fact that the house was crowded before 8 6’clock, the standing-room sign out, and not a seat on sale above or below, while hundreds of disap pointed people, who had neglected to reserve seats in advance, were com pelled to return without securing ad mission. The audience, as a matter of fact, was one of the greatest ever as sembled in this city to winess a min strel performance. The “trouble” be gan at 8:15 with the introduction of the richly costumed “Venetian” first part, a spectacular arrangement in which rich plush curtains of different colors, were eflcctively used, formin a beautiful scene. The first part con tained the vocal programme usually given, and included songs and recita tions by Hughey Dougherty, Billy Emerson, Banks Winter, John Queen, J. S. McMurray, and others. Dough erty was iu fiuc trim and his song : “I was with him,” was demanded and re-demauded, while Emerson, in whom time has apparently made but little change, was subjected to the same judgment. In the olio which followed, Dougherty, Emerson, the Virtos, the Japs, and the company generally, ap peared. The principals were enthusi astically encored each time they ap peared, while the specialties were re ceived with shouts of laughter. A feature ol the entertainmeut was the drill of the Egyptian Phalanx, which was done in admirable time and with almost faultless prtielsfen. ‘itTWts* the more novel from the fact that it was too short to satisfy the spectators. The “Right Idea,” by Messrs. Doyle, Qucert, Leonard aud Crotty, including solo clog dauciug of, an exceedingly intricate and complicated character, constituted another strong poiat The Japs concluded the bill with an exhibition which embraced sword walking, juggling, tof) spinning, mar velous balancing and feats on the bamboo ladder, and the immense au dience departed well pleased.” MR. AND MRS. BOWSER. ‘ for awliile, and then mixed a fresh lot oT lather and brushed it on, and Save the Hay. We take the following timely sug gestion from our Albany contempora ry, on the subject of saving hay : ‘•There are hundreds of tons of the best hay now wasting in the oat and corn fields of this section. It is a pity our people have not provided for cutting and curing it all. There is no question but that the hay that could be cut from some corn fields would he worth more than-corn grown in them. The hay of the native crow foot and crab grasses of this sec* tion, is very superior, being sweet and nutritious, ami the stock greatly pre fer it to tho Western liny. There lias been n great improvement in the attention devoted to hay saving in this section within the past few years, but it is still nn undeveloped industry, and will richly repay the closest at tention. Wc know of one melon grower near Albany, who, after, gath ering his melons, concluded to buy a mower and cut aud cure hay from the abandoned melon patch. lie waited until the grass was too dry, except in the bottoms, hut from them he cut enough hay to more than pay for the labor and mower, the first year. In diversified farming lays the hope of the country.” Mr. F. Robeat, civil engineer is in the city, and has conic to .make the preliminary survey of the Albany & Cordclc road. There will he a meet ing of the citizens interested in this line, this morning. The road would prove a large feeder to Albany’s trade, and is one of the most important to the city’s prosperity that has ever been projected.—News and Advertis er, Albany. BY MI!S. BOWSER. “Mrs. Bowser, do you know how much time the average man consumes per week in getting shaved ?’’ queried Mr. Bowser, as he entered the house the other evening with a parcel under his arm. “I do not.” “Well, I figure it an hour aud a half, to say nothing of the expense. One also runs many risks by shaving in a public place. “Yes.” “And I shall hereafter shave my self. I can do it in seven or eight me - minutes, at a cost of less than two cents, and I run no risk of barber’s itch or having my throat cut by some lunatic,” “Well, 1 hope you’ll make a suc cess of it, but- —” “There you go! Did I ever attempt anytliiug you didn’t discourage?” “But you know you tried it twice and gave it up and threw your outfits away in disgust.” • “And why? Because some one used my razors to cut kindling wood?” “Mr. Bowser!” “At least it appeared that way to me. And I got a lame arm, and we went off on a visit, and there were several other reasons. From this time forward I shall have myself, and I shall begin after supper.” After supper he prepared himself with three towels aud a quart of hot water and went up stairs to begin op erations. I crept softly up and took a’ seat on the lauding just as Mr. Bowser had removed coat and vest and collar and was mixing tho lather. While he was soaping liis face I heard him growl soveral times, and after wards ascertained that it was caused by his jobbing tho brush into his eyes and mouth by misfako. About one- half of the lather was deposited on his shirt front before he got through, lie was just seventeen minutes getting ready for the razor, and when he look it up I heard him mutter: “This thing handles mighty awk ward! If that fellow has gone and sold me a left “handed razor I’ll prose cute him to the last ditch!” He held it in various positions to get “the hang,” and when he finally got it, he made a careful motion along his right cheek. To his great sur prise and delight he didn’t cut his head off'. On the contrary, lie shaved off a whole spoonful of lather, ami I heard him chuckling : “Egad! But I’m getting there with both feet! No barber could bent that!” Mr. Bowser wears a mustache, ami is very proud of it. At the third or fourth scrape along his cheek one end of the mustache got in the way of the razor and a share of it was carried overboard,so to speak. “By thunder.” said Mr. Bowser, as lie regarded the damage, and careful ly washed all the lather oil (hat side to closer inspect the calamity. Inves tigation proved that the damages was not beyond repair, and lie renewed the lather and went ahead. In the course of the next fifteen minutes Mr. Bowser must have re moved as many as two hairs from his face, and he uttered fully 100 sighs and grunts. lie tried the razor in his right hand and iu his left, and in every conceivable position, and he brushed on the lather until a hoe would scarcely have scraped it off. “You see,” I heard him saying to himself, “a fellow lias to fool around awhile to get confidence in himself. 1 expected it would take me about half an hour this time, hut inside of a week I’ll make a clean shave inside of five minutes. There—that’s a good job.” lie wet a towel and wiped the lath er off his face and took a look iu the glass. The result astonished him. So far as he could sec he had not re moved one single beard. lie had scraped off the lather, but the beard was still there He growled away after satisfying himself that the razor’s edge was all right by cutting a hair pulled from his head, lie laid it against his chin. He gradually turned it up and began to scrape, and I heard him softly saying: “Now, then, I’ve got the real hang of it. I was carrying it to- flat. There’s a trick ” Two things suddenly happened. He cut the left corner of his mustache off and gashed his chin at the same stroke, and the next instant he houn ded out into the hall and shouted for “Well, what is it?’ I asked us I rose up. “Look licie! I’m fatally wounded!” he cried, as ho danced around the hall. “Let mo see. Why, it’s nothing but a slight cut. Let me wash the lather oil.” It was a lively cut, and it bled free ly for a quarter of an hour, during which time Mr. Bowser did a great deal of sighing and groaning, and forgot about his mustache. When I had plastered up the cut he returned to the glass, discovered that his mus tache was lopsided, and wheeled on mo to exclaim : “Look at it! Look at that Mrs. Bowser!” “Yes, you haggled your mustache. I’ll get the shears and trim it off.” “Never! Keep right away from me! Mrs. Bowser, your plot has been discovered!” “Don’t be so foolish, Mr. Bowser. I told you I didn,t believe you could shave yourself.” “It is all as plain as day now 1” he continued, as ho upset the lather cup and walked through its contents, “you probably ' figured that I’d cut my throat. You were sitting at the head of the stairs to catch my death rattle!” “Did I tell you to bring homo that razor? Didn’t I try to discourage you from shaving?” Ho turned from me without a ro- ply, and I went down stairs. He came down after about half an hour, lie had been obliged to sacrifice a third of his mustache to get it in proper shape again, and the lather which had gotten into his eyes gave him the appearance of having wept for a week. “It’s too had,” I said, breaking a long and embarrassing silence. Oh, it is, is it ?’ he sneered in reply. “Too had that I’m not lying a headless corpse up stairs, and you figuring on my life insurance!” “Well, it’s no use to talk to you, Mr. Bowser.” ' Not a hit, Mrs. Bowser. You had a plan. I checkmated it. You stand evcaled in your true light ns a would-be Borgia or worse. This is the last straw, Mrs. Bowser—the very ast. In the morning we will talk business.” But when morning came he didn’t have a word to say. 1 found his shav ing outfit in the side yard, where he had thrown it from the window, and the girl is now using the razor to peel potatoes.—Detroit Free Press. $ AS ALWAYS, (Mitchell House Block.) Has just opened up to the young and old gents the handsomest line of shoes ever of fered in our city, in all styles, from the narrowest to the wid est lasts. Patent leather shoes, hand some line of gents’ toilet slippers and full line of ladies’’, misses’ and children’s shoes. “How much do you gin’rally git for a job like this ?” asked a rural bride groom of the minister who married him. “The law allows me a dollar.” “Well, great Scot, man, here’s your dollar. I don’t wauter go to law ‘bout it! Reckon I'll have trouble enough now, anyhow!” Dashwood.—“I am going to do something noble, and get my name in the papers.” Merritt.—“If that’s " hat you’reaftercr, you'll have to do something bad.” Davy Crockett is to have a monu ment iu Teuuesec. The Tenneeseeans have waited long enough before de ciding to build it, to be sure they are right, and in the words of the frontier statesman, himself, it is their duty to ‘go ahead - ”—Ex. JMitdiell House Block.