Newspaper Page Text
* w" a.
(EattjerstoilU isaHk American.
VOLUME 111.
DIDN’T COME OFF.
o
HOW FRANK BIMPN OF NKTV YORK
LOST HIS LADY LOTH,
O
U lilie a Goldeu Wedding is Being Pre
pared at her Home lu Wih ngtoo
the Prospective Bride Give Her
Pareuts and Groom the Slip.
0
Washington Dispatch
For some time past Waehinton society
has been on the qui vive over the an
nouncement of the marriage of Miss Mary
E. Willard to Frank Simpson, of New
York. They met in London while Miss
Willard was abroad with her father, C.
J). Willard, one of Washington’s
wealthiest citizens. Himpeori is the son
of George Simpson, of the firm of Dou
nell, Lawson <fc Simpson, of New York.
Most elaborate preparations were made
for the wedding. Over fifteen hundred
invitations were sent out, and only a few
(lays ago the expectant Simpson sent
five bundled additional to such of his
relatives and friends as has been omitted
in the first list. There was hundreds of
presents of the costliest description, and
in variety comprising almost everything
usually given to brides. The wedding
was announced for December 11 and the
bride’s father is now on his way from
Europe, having sailed from Liverpool
last Saturday, November 29th, to attend
the ceremony. He had sent his daugh
ter nemerous dresses made by Worth of
Paris, which are the talk and envy of
social circles in this city. The garments
are models of the man milliner’s art.
The favored few who have seen them
have spread glowing reports of the mag
nificence of the bride’s trousseau.
Beneath these grand preparations,
how’ever, there lurked dissatisfaction
with the nuptials. The bride’s parents
were heartily in favor of the alliance, but
the bride was averse to the matih. She
frankly went to Simpson and informed
him that she did not and could never
love him, and requested that she be re
leased from the engagement. Owing to
tho pressure of family influence she could
not insist that her decision should be fi
nal, and so allowed it to be announced
that the wedding would take place on
the 11th instant.
This morning Miss Willard left her
home and met William Paxton, a clever
and rising young patent attorney of this
city, who awaited her coming with impa
tience. They proceeded to the residence
of Rev. Dr. Addison, Rechtor of Trinity
Church, and were married in the pres
ence of the groom’s brother and a few of
his intimate friends.
The happy couple took the 11 a. m.
train for the south. The bride is a very
handsome brunette, with large, dark,
lustrous eyes and plump figure. She
wore a plum-colored dress and hat with
fur, seal sacque and muff*. She is twen
ty-two years of age.
The elopement, owing to the promi
nence of the parties, will be the sensa
tion of the town as soon as the facts are
generally known. The union of Miss
Willard and Mr. Paxton is simply the
culmination of a genuine love match.
Rather than risk unhappiness with a
man whom she could not love she adopt
ed the heroic remedy as given above.
The minister who performed the cere
mony said to your correspondent to-night
that he was iguorant of the fact that he
had united an eloping couple. The par
ties were strangers to him, and as they
presented to him the regular legal docu
ment necessary on sueh occasion* he felt
authorized to marry them.
I.\ MEMORY.
“Theyjcome to me at night-fall,
The beautiful from heaven,
Tbope who in love’e sweet moments,
From earth and me were riven.
And while I long to clasp them,
And call them mine again,
I hear their low words hushing
Life’s restless moan of pain.”
Far away to my happy childhood,
memory wanders to-night, aB I sit here
in my silent room alone. Again lam
chasing golden-winged butterflies o’er
a green grassy sward dotted over with
clover blossoms. Dearly loved paly
mates are with me, but ah! to-night.l
think of one I loved dearer than all
the rest, fair, blue-eyed, golden-haired
Miriam Early. Our homes were in the
same village, and we were often together.
Her brothers, Paul and Rex, were the
pride of her lieait. What merry rambles
we had together, grave, blue-eyed Paul,
brown-haired, winsome Rex, free hearted
loving Miriam and myself. What gay
times we had hunting wild-flowers, gath
ering berries on the green hill-side near
the dear old home, that my childhood
knew.
“All thro’ the golden summer
Before the autumn fell—
Our lives went by together ”
But when the autum came, and the trees
were tinted with red and gold, the pur
ple asters and the golden-rod were wav
ing in the wind, and the soft Indian sum
mer days were upon us, they left me to
live in the sunny land of flowers, fair
Florida. I bade them good buy with a
heavy heart, for it seemed they were
taking the very sunshine with them.
The winter passed away. We wrote to
each ctlier often, Miriam and I, but
just as the lovely spring was unfolding
her flowers to the warm sunshine, the
death angel entered our homo aud took
our beloved father away, to his reat iu
the city of God. I wrote to Miriam i n
my loneliness and sorrow. Her warm
sympathetic heart went out to me in my
heart affliction. Scarce ten summers had
passed over our heads, and sorrow had
already set her mournful seal upon my
brow, while her life was bright with the
sunshine of love and joy. Years passed
by. We grew to girlhood, each knew
the other’s joys and sorrows. We wrote
to each other regularly. She wrote
long, newsy letters, of home life and
dear friends, with now and then a mes
sage from Paul and Rex, telling me not
to forget them—and thus, the years flew
by. A correspondence sprang up be
tween paul and I. From his letters, I
saw that he was the same, warm-hearted
boy, that I knew in the old days, when
we played together in the grass-grown
village yard. But, I noticed, with a sad
heart, that Miriam’s sweet letters came
less frequently—loving and true, they
were, though, when they did come—
bringing gleams of sunshine iuto my
weary heart. At last, they ceased alto
gether. I wrote enquiring the cause.
A letter came from Rex, informing me
that Miriam was very, very ill. I re
plied to his letter immediately and re
quested him to keep me informed as to
her health. And oh! how I longed to
be with her once more, to clasp those
hands, and see those blue eyes look
trustingly into mine. I heard no more.
Two weeks rolled by. One still Sabbath
morning, while the dew still glistened on
the fresh opening grass, the mail brought
me a letter from Paul, and these were
the words that he wrote, that took all
the brightness out of that fair May morn,
and deepened the gloom of sorrow
o’er my sad young life: “Darling Mi
riam has left us forever!” Oh! dark the
world seemed. Never see her any more,
never again, was the ceaseless refrain of
my heart all thro’ the dreary days that
followed. They laid her down to sleep
among the fair sweet blossoms—the joy
and light of her home taken away in all
the glory of young maiden-hood. Only
seventeen summers had flitted over that
loving heart, when the dread monster
Death laid his cold touch upon her brow.
And yet, when she had lain for three
long months, consumption wearing away
that fragile form, she turned her eyes
heavenward and “longed to be at rest.”
But I cannot picture her dead. I only
want to remember her as she looked in
her beautiful childhood as I saw her last.
I can see those blue eyes yet. “They
haunt me still. Those calm pure blue
eyes. Their piercing sweetness, wanders
through my dreams.” And thus, in the
silent summer night, as we sit alone,
“my heart and I,” old memories throng
around, and in fancy, lam wandering
again with golden haired Miriam Early.
Only to wake from my reverie with the
bitter truth before me that she is sleep
ing beneath the sod with summer flow
ers blooming over her grave. While I,
who had waited oh! so hopefully to see
her face again, only know that on earth
she is lost to me forever!
The night is far gone. The years of
my girlhood rise np before me. Ah! if
this be the dawning, what will the long
day be? To have Earth’s fairest blos
som es crushed in their spring time!
Miriam, hard indeed it was to give you
up, but I realize, even now, in the morn
of life that “must be borne which it is
hard to bear, much given away which it
were sweet to keep;” and I know it was
best for God to take you away in the fair
mom of girlhood, sparing you the ordeal
of looking back over wasted hopes, and
dreary days, and star-eyed Faith whis
pers we shall meet on “the other side of
the river. ’’And sweet it is to know “By
the bright waters now thy lot is cast, joy
for thee happy friend! Thy bark hath
passed the * rough sea's foam! Now the
long yearnings of thy soul are stilled,
Home! home! thy peace is won, thy
thy heart is filled. Thou art gone home!”
And safe from earths cares and sorrows,
Miriam Earlp rests.
Roxor Fay.
The biennial report of Judge J. T.
Henderson, Commissioner of Agriculture
of Georgia, gives a concise but full ac
count of the work of his department for
the years 1883 and 1884. During the
last season there were inspected 151,849.-
43 tons of commercial fertilizers, the
gross fees on weich amounted to $75,-
914.92 was the amount turned into the
treasury after paying the cost of tags,
etc. The chemists’ and inspectors’ sala
ries amounted to $9,400, thus making
the fees on fertilizers net the state $92,-
133.92. During the last year there were
also inspected 1,762,113 gallons Rf oil, on
which the fees were sll, 649.77. Dur
ing the two years 25,088 packages of
seed and 325,000 copies of reports, circu
lars and manuals compiled and publish
ed by the department were distributed.
The document contains the reports of
Prof. White, State Chemist, Dr. Cary,
Fish Commissioner, and other valuable
papers.
Grant has agreed to write some war
experiences for the Century. He always
has a greed for something or other.
Mr. Spurgeon tells a story of a gentle
man who, on his way home one dark
night, was encountered by a footpad,
with the demand: “Money, or your life.”
The gentleman’s reply was: “I haven’t
any money; I have been to a bazzar.’
The highwayman immediately recognized
the force of the reasoning, and made up
a subscription for him.
CARTERSVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1884.
BILL ARP.
o
THE YOUNG FOLKS GIVK A CANDY
FULLING,
Which Affords the PhilMopher Mach
Enjoyment, Not Unalloyed with
Discomfort—The Frolic at the
Country School Home.
0
Atlanta Constitution.
Candy pullings are a nuisance, but I
suppose we have to have them. I have
now arrived at that age and frame of
mind that I submit to anything—any
thing to please the children. And so
when they got their mother’s consent
the matter was all arranged and the com
pany invited without consulting me.
There was a spare room in the house
and as I had some writing to do I ad
journed myself there to have a quiet
time. While I was ruminating before
the fire and smoking the pipe of peace
and tranquility the young folks began to
gather, and before I knew it the young
landies were ushered into my room as a
reception room, and I was kiudly in
formed that I would have to vacate.
With a sigh of resignation, I retired
and poked around generally. I wish I
had a room—a room of my own—and
Mrs. Arp says she wishes she had a room
—a room of her own. But she can’t have
one. She never will have one, for chil
dren and grandchildren would be lost
and I would be lost. Sh# can’t slip off
to Nabor Freeman’s but what a dozen
want to know where she is and when she
is coming back. The dog and the cat
follow her—no she will have a room to
herself.
But I found good company at the candy
pulling and had a good time anyhow 7, for
Ido love these naborly visits. I love to
see the young folks happy and I love to
discourse politics and crops and nabor
news with the older ones. But this
candy business is not all serene, one of
the girls burned her hand dreadfully and
is still carrying it in a bandage. And
then it is so messy, as Mrs. Arp says.
The children get candy all over the floor
and the tables and bureau. It stick to
my stockings yet when I get ready to go
to bed. It melts and smokes on the
hearth. The dishes are all daubed and
hard to clean again. The door knobs
and dipper handles are sticky as long
as the candy lasts. But every pleasure
has its draw back. After every dinner
the dishes are to be washed. After
every respose the bed has to be made
up. We ride and drive and the horses
has to be put up and fed. We dance to
sw 7 eet music and have to pay the fiddler.
We go on a picnic or an excursion and
coma home tired and weary. Every
pleasure seems to be followed by pain or
by trouble just as the night follows the
day. But still it is right, for it is nature.
We live in constrasts and enjoy them.
Suppose we do hunt all day and find no
game. Hope is a good thing, and it was
one of the questions we used to debate
when I was a boy, “whether the pur
suit or the possession gave the most
pleasure.” I took the affirmative one
time when I was pursuing my sweetheart
with love and hope and devotion, and I
argued my side with earnest eloquence.
But when I lost her and another fellow
got possession I flopped over to the
other side. In a year or so I recovered
and pursued Mrs. Arp with fear and
trembling, and when I possessed her I
was happy. The pursuit is a lively, in
teresting and uncertain business where
a sweet young maiden is concerned, but
the possesion is solid and sure and never
gives out.
We had a frolic at our country acade
my last week. The night you were all
jubilating in Atlanta we were quietly en
joying ourselves near our homes with
our wives and our children. The ladies,
God bless them invited us to a supper iu
the academy, a splendid supper, a feast
of good things with no headache in them.
My folks killed a turkey and baked some
cake and the nabors did likewise, and
they got oysters somewhere and long ta
bles were spread and groaned with good
things and we thought it was all a free
show until we got there and found a
doorkeeper and had to pay to go in.
Then they finished up with bills of fare,
and to everything there was a price, but
we couldn’t back out, for the sight and
the savory smell provoked an appetite.
After I had made them a little speech,
which I had prepared for the accasion,
one kind lady manager conducted me to
a seat and said I was her guest and the
choisest viands should cost me nothing;
with this assurance I partook amazingly
and feasted to my entire content, and
about that time another kind lady pre
sented me my bill and called for a dollar
—a whole dollar, and said I had oysters
twice and turkey twice. I paid it with
cheerful alacrity but somehow I don’t
appreciate so many managers cm such
aocasious. Nevertheless I had the hon
or of being one fair lady’s guest even
though I was another’s victim. Then I
paid for Mrs. Arp and the children and
thought I was done, but they had a fish
pond in one corner, behind a curtain,
and the children wanted to drop a line
just to see what they would catch—well,
that cost some dimes and next came a
raffle for a fine, large cake, aud they all
wanted a chance, and Mrs. Arp took a
notion she could throw eighteen with
three dice, and shore enough she threw 7
four and retired with matronly dignity
and said she didn’t want the cake nohow.
Well, the show went on, and on nntell
they got all our change and had enough
money to plaster the school house.
There was good music there and the
trustees were consulted by the young
folks about a dance, just a little dance to
wind up on, but they said “no” and they
said it like they meant it, and I reckon
they did, and the young folks surrender
ed and said, well, if we can’t dance we
can have a little twistificaiion. Before
anybody knew what that meant the floor
was cleared and the music begau and
the twisrifleation, tod, and they twisted
all around and about, and crossed over,
and hands all round, and changed part
ners, and promenade all, and parly voo
Fraueais, and I don’t know what all, and
the solemn trustees looked on with en
joyment, and were satisfied because it
was only a twistification. Well it was a
goodly frolic and no feelings hurt, and
we all went home .happy, but awful
scarce of change. Governor Brown has
got some preferred stock in our school
house. We preferred his money to any
body’s, for he had more of it. If we had
had him there, with his swallow-tail coat
on, we would have preferred some more.
When he gives us two hundred dollars
more we’ll name it the Brown institute,
but not till then. The name is for sale,
but we are not going to do like those
Dalton folks and name our school for
him before we get the money. They
have never got any yet. Governor
Brown don’t pay honors when he can
get them for nothing. Old father Dob
bins is our rich man up here, and we are
going to try him for an endowment and
call it the Dobbins old-field school. He
likes old-field schools, but he has no use
for colleges or seminaries or universities.
He says he has watched them for forty
years, and every year they turn out a
splendid crop of elegant, high-strung
vagabonds, with but few exceptions.
But education is the American watch
word now, and we will have to conform.
H the nation gets an overdose, I reckon
we will find it out sooner or later.
AFTER SUFFERING ELEVEN YEARS.
Dawson, Ga., August 30, 1884. —I
suffered with tetter for eleven years. It
was on my face and body, and gave me
untold trouble and pain. I tried the
virtue of many remedies, and was treat
ed by some of the best physicians in the
country, but found no relief, and had
almost despaieed of my life. I was in
duced to try S. S. S. as ; a last resort.
After taking six bottles the tetter was re
moved and my skin smoothed off, and I
am perfectly well. I feel like anew
man. Swift’s Specific is undoubtedly
the best blood purifier in the
world, and I recommend it to suffer
ing humanity everywhere.
L. H. Leh.
THE SUPREME BENCH.
Atlanta, Sept. 23, 1884.—From expe
rience I think S. S. S. a very valuable
remedy for cuteneous diseases, and at
the same time an invigorating tonic.
Jamies Jackson,
Chief Justice of Ga.
CURED WITH TWO BOTLLES.
Jerskyvillb, 111., Aug. 2, 1884. —
For over two years I ws afflicted with a
ring-worm on my neck, which would
peel off and burn like fire. Calling on
an M. D. he pronounced it a cutaneous
eruption of the cuticle. This frightened
me, and after trying everything in the
market, including Fowler’s solution of
arsenic, without success, I was advised
to try S. S. S., which I did, and after
taking two small bottles a permanent
cure was effected.
Robt. H. Maltimore,
Of the U. Sr X. and Pac. Ex. Cos.
A CHILD.
Talbottoa, Ga., Sept. 12, 1884.—My
little son, now seven years old, broke out
when a babe thrse weeks old with what
the doctors called ezeema, beginning on
the head and gradually spreading over
his whole body. He was treated for five
years or more by various physicians
without relief, and the little boy’s health
was completely broken down. About a
year ago I was induced to use on him
Swift’s Specific, and two lwttles cured
him sound and well, and there has been
no sign of a return of the disease.
F. O. Holmes.
Treatise on Blood aud Skin Diseases
mailed free.
The Swift Specific Cos. ,
Atlanta, Ga.
Actors are sometimes failures, but
when a pugilist appears before the pub
lic in an exhibition he alw T ays makes a hit.
William Shakespeare is editing a paper
in Michigan. William has been several
centuries getting his merits properly ap
preciated.
Mr. Cleveland said recently: “After
the other fellows get through cabinet
making 1 think I should like to try my
hand.” The president-elect will be
lucky if he gets a chance.
A young poet writes and asks if we
will “accept a tolerably long poem.”
To be sure we will. Write it on a whole
sheet of foolscap, and don’t cut the pa
per. Next spring we shall undoubtedly
take dowu our office stove, and then we
shall want a sheet of paper just that size
I to paste over the hole when we take the
pipe out.
BILL NYE.
o
HE COMES TO THK FRONT WITH A
DISSERTATION OF POLITICS.
0
He Gives to the World the Speet'h of a
Mu whoTllkl ofCampttign Fund*
•od the Shrinkage of Veluee—
What Should be Done f Ac.
O
Bill Nje in New York Mereury.
I once knew a man who was nominated
by his fellow citizens for a certain office
and finally elected without having ex
pended a cent for that purpose. He was
very eccentric, but he made a good offi
cer. When he heard that he was nomi
nated, he went up, as he said, into the
mountains to do some assessment work
on a couple of claims.
He got lost, and didn’t get hia bearings
until a day or two after election. Then
he came iuto town hungry, greasy, and
ragged, but unpledged.
He found that he was elected, and in
answer to a telegram started off’ for ’Fris
co to see a dying relative. He did not
get back until the first of January. Then
he filed his bond and sailed into the of
fice. He fired several sedentary depu
ties who had been in the place twenty
years just because they were good
“workers.” That is, they were good
workers at the polls. They saved all
their energies for the campaign, ad so
they only had vitality enough to draw
their salaries during the balance of the
two years.
This man raised the county scrip from
sixty to ninety-five in less than two years
and still they busted him in the next
convention. He was too eccentric. One
of the delegates asked what in Sam Hill
would become of the country if every
candidate would skin out during the
campaign and rusticate in the mountains
while the battle was Leing fought.
Says he: “I am a delegate from the
prechit of Rawhide Buttes, and I calklate
to know what lam talking about. Gen
tlemen of the convention, just suppose
that everybody, from the president of
the United States down, was to git the
nomination, and then light out like a
house afire and never come back ’till it
was time to file his bond; what’s going
to become of us drunkards to whom elec
tion is an oasis in the bad lands, an
orange grove m the alkali flats?
“Mr. Chairman there’s millions of dol
lars in this broad land waiting for the
high tide of election day to come and
float ’em down to where you and I, Mr.
Chairman, as well as other parched and
and patriotic inebriates can git ahold of
’em.
“Gentlemen, we talk about stringency
and shrinkage of values, and all such
funny business as that; but that’s some
thing I kon’t know a blamed thing about.
What I can grapple with is this: If our
county offices are worth $30,000, and
there are other little after claps, and soft
snaps, and walk overs, worth, say $lO,-
000, and the boys, say, are willing to do
the fair thing, say, blow in fifteen per
cent, to the central committee, and what
they feel like on the outside, then poli
tics, instead of a burden and a reproach,
becomes a pleasing duty, a joyous occa
sion, and a picnic to those whose lives
might otherwise be a dreary monotone.
“Mr. Chairman, the past two years
has wrecked four campaign saloons, and
a tinner who socked hia wife’s fortune
iuto campaign torches, is now in a land
where torchlights is no good. Overcome
by a dull market, a financial depression
and a reserved central committee, he ate
a package of Rough on Rats, and passed
up the flume. He is now at rest over
yonder.
“Such instances would be common if
we encouraged the eccentric economy of
official cranks. It is an evil that is gnaw
ing at the vitals of the republic. We
must squench it or get left. There are
millions of millions in this county, Mr.
Chairman, that if we keep it out of the
campaign, will get into the hands cf the
working classes, and then you and I, Mr.
Chairman, and gentlemen of the conven
tion can starve to death. Keep the cam
paign money away from the soulless
hired man, gentlemen, or good-bye
John.
“Mr. Chairman, excuse my emotion!
It is almighty seldom that I make a
speech, but when I do, I strive to get
there with both feet. We must either
work the campaign funds into their legit
imate channels, or every blamed patriot
within the sound of my voice will have
to fasten on a tin bill and rustle for
angle worms amongst the hens. You
hear me ?”
[Terrific applause, during which the
delicate odor of enthusiasm was noticed
on the breath of the entire delegation. ]
A PHENOMENAL JOURNAL.
Probably no paper ever met with such a
quick and generous recognition as has
been accorded to Texas Siftings, the great
humorous and literary weekly. It is now
published simultaneously in Austin, Tex
as; New York, N. Y., and London, Eng
land, and is credited with a circulation of
over 100,000 copies. It is an eight-page,
58-column paper, and contains every year
more than 1,000 original illustrations and
cartoons. Its good stories and humorous
sketches are unexcelled. The publishers,
being desirous of increasing its already
large circulation, are offering extraordina
ry inducements to subscribers. The sub
scription price of Siftings is $2.50 a year.
For $2.50 the publishers will send the pa-
per one year, and also any one of the fol
lowing premiums; for $1.50 they will send
the paper six months, and, free, any one
of the following premiums. For only $1
they will send Siftings three months, and
any one of the following premiums;
Premium No. I—A cloth bound 608-page
dictionary, with 700 illustrations. Prem
ium No. 2—A cloth bound 512-page book
“What Every One Should Know.” Prem
ium No. 3—The National Standard Ency
clopedia, 700 pages, 20,000 articles and
over 1,000 illustrations. Premium No 4
Three Books for Ladies. Premium No.
s—Heavy gold plated watch chain. Prem
ium No. 6—Ladies’ plated set ear rings
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An improved sewing machine, improve
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Address Texas Siftings Publishing Cos.,
New York, for full illustrated premium
list and samble copy of Siftings.
INSURANCE AND M A i LR-WOUKS,
Messrs. Editors —Having for several
years devoted a portion of my time to the
insurance business, I have necessarily
given the matter more or less considera
tion, and for the benefit of parties interest
ed, I propose making some plain state
ments of facts, and leave the property
owners of our town to consider the matter
in the same way and manner which they
would consider any common business
transaction.
Up to a few years since there were no
special rules for the government of our lo
cal insurance agents, and the result was,
that in drumming for busines, they under
bid each other until the insurance compa
nies alleged that the business all through
the southern states was unprofitable, and
they w r ould either have to w ithdraw their
companies or form such combination as
would protect them from this indiscrimi
nate cutting of rates, and, as they desired
the business, they formed w'hat is known
as “The South-Eastern Tariff Association.”
This association is governed by a regular
set of officers, and each city,tow r n and vil
lage, of any considerable importance, is
rated by men appointed by this associa
tion, and the local agents in these places
are necessarily compelled to be governed
by these rates, or they are dismissed from
the business. From this statement it will
be seen that the matter is one over which
the local agent has no control, and, as a
consequence, no blame can attach to them.
Now, the question naturally comes up,
are these rates too high? And, if too high,
how is the property owner to rectify the
matter and get insurance at such rates as
he can afford to pay ?
Clearly, he cannot obtain the insurance
at less rates than the companies doing
business in his section will take the risk ;
and, therefore, the applicant for insurance
is at the mercy of the association, and it
makes no difference to the applicant or
the association how many arguments may
be adduced, it avails nothing, because it is
a one-sided business, it all being In the
hands of the company.
This being admited, what is the remedy?
The only remedy occurring to me at
this time is for the city to go to work and
erect water w r orks. Can this be done?
And, if so, can it be done at such cost as
will benefit the property owners? Let us
see :
Some years since I had occasion, with
competent assistants, to measure the quan
tity of water furnished by Powder Springs
the distance from the city and the eleva
tion, together with cost of material, labor,
etc. The quantity of water which could>
be utilized from these springs, w r e con
cluded, was about twenty gallons per
minute. This is tw r elve hundred gallons
per hour and twenty-eight thousand eight
hundred gallons for tw r enty-four hours,
which would seem to be enough for all
practical purposes. The distance is about
two and a half miles (the exact distance
not remembered), and the elevation is tw T o
hundred and seventeen feet above the rail
road, at the crossing above the W. & A.
railroad depot. After the survey and cal
culations were completed it was concluded
that the most practical plan was to lay
pipes direct to the top of the hill, in the
rear of the Baptist church, and then build
a reservoir to hold the water, and then lay
a main pipe to the public square and then
distribute all through the fire limits.
Now, as to the cost. In 1871, when the
survey and estimates w T ere made, for the
entire system, all complete, was about
$19,000, but now material and labor are
very much cheaper than at that time, and
the presumption is, that the cost would
not exceed twelve thousand dollars. Is
this a saving to the property holders? Let
us see.
We now pay out per annum for insur
ance about twenty thousand dollars,
which is an annual drain on our entire
community, going to enrich foreign incor
porations, and we never see it again.
With such water works as we can have,
we should obtain an insurance at about
one-third the present cost, or say six
thousand six hundred and sixty-six dol
lars, or a saving the first year of about the
cost of the water works.
But suppose the annual saving in in
surance is only one half the cost of the
water works. Then, at the end of the
second year, your water works are paid
for, your property permanently enhanced
in value, and your rates of insurance re
duced to a minnimum premium for all
time to come.
If these be facts, who will oppose such
an enterprise? And if they are not facts,
then I nope so me one will disprove them.
D. W. K. Pkaoocx.
NUMBER 33.
KIT WARREN.
o
HEJOYOUSLY DILATESON IIISOKKAT
HAPPINESS.
O
His Thankfulness Fills Him f.m Top to
Toe With an Over Supply of the
Snpiemlst Joy that Cnaiet His
Heart to Swell and Flutter.
O
Sunny South.
Thanksgiving day has come and gone
and I did the clean thing, and discharged
my duty and cleared my skirts like a lit
tle man. A faithful, obedient, law-abid
ing, president obeying citizen, I gave
thanks on the 27th. I gave lots of thanks.
I was thankful from Alpha to Omega; from
beginning to end; from the crown of my
head to the sole of my feet; thankful from
center to circumference; thankful through
and through. I left the preachers, and
the deacons, and the women to return
thanks to Providence for heath, and sea
sons, and crops and all the other bounti
ful blessings, for which I try to be thank
ful, evening and morning, each day of my
life. I resigned the management of that
department to others more competent and
better qualified to discharge its duties, and
gave my sole and undivided attention to
another branch of the business.
Oh, yes, I was thankful, thankful, thank
ful. 1 was thankful that, in descending
from his exalted eyrie, Blaine would be
chastened by experiencing the pains and
pange so tenderly expressed in these
plaintive words of the poet:
“I soar aloft on eagle’s wings
And light on daddy’s wood pile.”
I was thankful that the great army of
toadies and henchmen, and brigands, and
strappers and blatherskites are to be
whirled, and tossed, and scattered like
chaff in the wind, and, like rt Bjs in
bloom, and like smoke in a tempest, and
like dry dust before a rolling chariot
wheel, and like everything else that is
tossable, and scatterative. Looking to
these facts, I gave thanks, and I gave
them liberally, and giving didn’t impover
ish me; and if it had, they would have had
to come anyhow, for I couldn’t hold in.
In fact, I gave all the thanks I had, and
wept because I had no more thanks to
give. I gave thanks to the virtuous vo
ters of this country who elected Cleveland
and Hendricks, and to Burchard and Hat
ton, who manipulated the botch work of
the republican party, and to Conkling and
Arthur, and Edmunds, who let the cat
have their tongues during the stormy ses
sion of the late lamented campaign. 1 also
gave thanks to the independents, and the
leagues, and the labor unions, and the
trade unions, and all the other individuals
and organizations who helped to swell
and magnify the triumph. It was my
treat, and I treated the whole crowd to
my thanks, and slighted nobody. Thank
ful ! the word wants elbow room. It
needs rivers of ink and forests of pens to
give it adequate expression. I was thank
ful all over; thankfulness reigned and rul
ed through the length and breadth, and
height and depth of me, and was monarch
of all it surveyed.
Thanks rolled from my tongue, beamed
in my eyes, glow'ed in my features and
were vocal even in the crack of my boots.
Thanks came from me spontaneously and
sporadically. They spilled out in show
ers, and streams, and billows, and thun
ders, and I don’t care who knows it.
‘‘Thankful for Cleveland! Why yes.
Cleveland was my first choice, and my se
cond choice, and my only choice. He was
my first love. I care as little about his
high tariff notions, or his low tariff notions
as I care about the color of his cuff buttons
or the rumple in his socks. I just want
Cleveland—Cleveland in the concrete,and
the synthesis, and the aggregate —Cleve-
land all about, and everywhere—Cleve
land yesterday, to-day and forever. I
want Cleveland straight, without any
sweetening,
I may be mistaken—possibly I’m a trifle
infatuated; but its my deliberate opinion
that Cleveland is the very man who dis
covered Christopher Columbus, gobbled
up the hidden treasures of science, invent
ed capillary attraction, and set the seven
stars in good running order. That’s the
man I voted for, and I voted for him a
heap, and voted for him bad, and had my
voies been as plentiful as blackberries in
June I would have given him the whole
crop without leaviug any portion w r ith
which to lift the rent mortgage. I am
thankful that I voted for him, and thank
ful that I intend to keep voting for him
as long as I live, and then appoint an ex
ecutor, with instructions to vote for him
as long as I don’t live. And I’m thankful
that I am thankful, and I give thanks for
all the thanks I give.
“Yes,” said he, “I'm refraining from
hard work, and trying to get fat and my
flesh tender. There’s nothing mean about
me, and if I’m to go as a missionary to
the Pacific Islanders I want to do them all
the good I can.”
It is now claimed that the “Rnra,
Romanism and Rebellion” remark of the
Rev. Mr. Burchard was a clerical error,
but the Nev York Board of Canvassers
refused to go behind the returns.
A patent mediciue firm has offered the
govermeut a large sum of money, if it be
allowed to advertise its medicines on the
back of the postage stamps. This, they
think, would be a good way to get it in
everyone’s mouth.”
“Everything has its use,” said a phi
losophical professor to his class. “Of
what use is a drunkard’s fiery red nose?”
asked one of the pupils. “It is a light
house,” answered the professor, “to warn
us of the little water that passes under
neath.”