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311 ul tile f§e®rgia . . F, SMITH, Publisher. VOLUME IX. evrnribr. * T ball wins low. With mutaams low, npon th river’s brink, The restless, aimless waters idly beat; Tha grazing cattle droop their heads to drink, The ripples flowing gently o’er their feet; The hazy stillness and the summer air ilsko life a tender dream, devoid of care. All changed and cheerless in the wintry wind That sweeps from shore to shore in sullen mood The river rests, In ghostly shroud Confined, And blustering breezes sing a requiem rude. The slow herds shivering In the fallen snow, Scatter its powdered paleness as they go. And thus In life, a winter cold and drear Fast follows on the summer’s joyous bloom; Aad while we wait, and idly wander here, Time’s tocsin sounds some dreaded day of doom; And starting up, with pleasure-laden mind, We see the smiling summer far behind 1 —Good Covipany. A WILD HIDE. We had been living in Ireland for about two years, and overy day I regret ted she time more and more when my husband had decided to leave England and come over to manago his property* which was situated in ono of the most lawless and disaffected counties. Fenianism was rife, and heartily I wished we were away and over the water again, at least until these troubled days had given place to better and more peaceful times, and now t2iat the long, dark winter afternoons and evenings had set in again, I used to sit and watch anxiously for my husband’s return; when Lionel would come in looking moody and uneasy, and kept his revolv er always loaded, though he never told me ho suspected danger, and tried to mako light of it for my sake. Oh! it was a wretched, miserable time, and I can never forget it. I remember so well how the crash camo at last, and how the volcano burse forth that had been smouldering ao long. Wo wero sitting at breakfast one morning when the letters were brought in. and after handing them the bearer Btood fidgeting about. Lionel looked up. “That will do, Delaney, and tell John to bring the dog-cart around in half-an hour. ” “Lionel, I don’t like that man,” I said, after ho had left the room. “ lam sure ho is a spy. I wish you would get rid of him.” “Oh, tho fellow is right enough. It is bis brother, you know, that lam going* oror to tho court about to-day,” “ What is it?” I exclaimed, as Lionel got up suddenly, looked vexed and an noyed, and threw a letter into the fire. “Lionel, is it another of thoso dreadful letters? ” “Yes, warning mo against giving evi dence against Delaney to-day. What is the country coming to ? But there ; I ought not to have told you—it will frighten you into fits.” “ Lionel, you must not go to-day—in deed, indeed, you must stay at homo; they may mean what they say. Oh, promise me you won’t go.” ‘ ‘ Nonsense absurdity; Winifred, don't be so foolish. Why, dear, these are all empty threats. But once show the white feather aud they will bo ten times worse. You foolish little wife,” he added, tenderly, “and so yon worry and fret yourself when I am away, ex pecting me home ou a shutter, I sup pose. Well, don’t sit up for me to-night* for after the trial is over I am going to dine at Col. Arbutlinot’s, and shan’t be home till late. Now I must be off.” A few more loving words, and then I stood watching him driving down the avenue, turning now and then to wave a farewell. I was only half satisfied, and was wish* ing he had not gone. After lunch I went out to take some *ine to the lodge-keeper’s child, who was ill. It was rather late when I started, and sun was setting behind the mount ain, shedding a flood of crimson light oVtr the golden glories of the fading rear. I stayed there till it was quite dark, "hen 1 started home. Suddenly hearing footsteps, I paused; Dearer and nearer they came, and then trough the darkness I could see two meu slowI 7 approaching, talking in low, tones. Sick with terror, I drew back behind * iarge tree, for one of the men was Delaney. At first they spoke in low, cautious tones, but, by degrees, their voices were and at last Delaney, raising his hand, exclaimed, with a vehemence that made me shudder: *’ l yot, if it’s done at all, it must he done to-night. What’s the use of diking, man? It’s acts, not words, we He passes th§ gross- to Devottd to Industrial Inter st. the lliffu-iiin ol Truth, the Establishment of Jnstiee, and the Presentation of a Peoplo’s fiovernment night, coming home from the Colonel’s, a mile beyond, by the common and tho chalk-pit. It’s a lonely spot—there’s onr place. Be there when the moon is np, and mind, no mistake this time.” And he laughed, actually laughed, as he planned and plotted the cruel and deliberate murder of my husband, who had been a kind and good master to him. At last they parted, Delaney hurrying back in tho direction of the house with a last injunction to his accomplice not to fail; and, after waiting along time, to make sure that ho was gone, I went ■lowly home, and reached my room un observed. There I matured and laid my plans de liberately and carefully, for it was life if I succeeded, .and oh! far worse than death if I failed. So I dressed for dinner as usual, and, though every scrap of color had left my face, and I knew that I could not sub due all expression of tho horror that I felt, I preserved an outward calmness, and went on down to the dining-room as though the man that stood behind my chair had not, only two short hours ago, planned to take my husband’s life. How I got through I know not, but the meal was over at last. Still I could do nothing till Delaney left the house and started on his deadly errand. My plan was this. When he had gone I intended to go down to tho stable, get the horse, aud ride to Col. Arbuthnot’s, trying to reach it before Lionel had started on his way home. It was a daring step, but the only chance; lonely and isolated, we wero miles from any town, and no help was possible. I should have to ride hard, and, to avoid being discovered aud stopped, I must make a long round, which would take me many miles out of my way. At last the time to act had arrived. Delaney must have started long ere this, and tho servants would be at sup per. The clock was just striking 9 as I left the room. Going up-stairs quickly, I put on my habit and stepped out. It was a clear, bright night, with the pale moon rising over the dark tree tops, and shining coldly on the glossy green evergreens, casting ghostly, weird shadows across the path. I reached the yard, and saw. to my alarm, a light in the harness-room. Without taking time to hesitate or think, I advanced softly, and, peeping in, saw, to my great relief, that it was only the stable-boy busily engaged rubbing up the harness. Open ing the door, I stood before the aston ished lad. who gazed with wide-open eyes as though I had been an appari tion. “ Christie, ” I said, “ saddle Rifleman as quickly as possible. I want him.” “Sure, ma’am, you’re never going out to-night ? ” “ Yes, I am. Quick —don’t stand talking there, but do as I tell you.” Burning with impatience, I watched him getting out Rifleman, and then, ns I was about to mount, catching sight of the wonder and surprise on Christie’s face, •an idea seized me, and, sending him back into the stable on some pre text, I locked the door and took the key. No one knew where I was; it would be long before ho could make himself heard, no matter how loudly lie called, for the yard was a long way from the house. In another minute I was out of the gate and cantering swiftly down the avenue and out on the open road. “ Rifle man,” I said, stroking his glossy neck, * ‘ it rests with you to save your master. You must do your best for the time is short.” Away we went, keeping well in tli6 shadow of the trees which skirted the road; the soft grass muffled the sound of the horse’s hoofs, and faster, yet fast er, I urged Rifleman to his topmost speed, for what if I were already too late? The moon was nearly high in the heavens, and I knew the hour was rapidly approaching. It was a ride for life, and on we flew with fearful rapidity. What if Lionel were on his way al ready. Oh for strength to keep up a little longer 1 The entrance gates at Col. Arbuth not’s stood wide open, and, with hope in my heart, I galloped up to the house. The door was opened by the Colonel himself, who hurried out in great alarm. “My husband—ishehere?” I gasped. No ;he has just left—not more than ten minutes ago, I think; but what has happened?" “ Too late! too late!” I cried. “ They have killed him ! Oh, Lionel, INDIAN SPRINGS, GEORGIA. Lionel 1” They tried to stop me, but I broke away ; thero might be time yet, if I rode hard and fast. My horse might die in the attempt—what mattered it ? It was life or death, now; and away again, thundering down the avenue I went, heedless of cries and entreaties to come back. Stopping one moment to listen, I heard, far ahead, the rumbling sound of wheels; it seemed to endow me with new life and strength to keep up, to struggle a little longer; but poor Rifle man was almost done for. Breathing hand, he still labored on, answering whip and rein to the last. Gathering up all my energies for a last bffort, I urged Rifleman once more to a gallop, aud, sweeping round a cor ner, saw, with a wild gleam of joy and hope, my husband’s dog-cart slowly as cending a long steep hill, right in front, the foot of wliioh on the other side was the spot where the murderers were in waiting. Every yard of ground was of value now. I tried to call out, but only a feeble cry escaped my lips; and, still running with a kind of strength and determi nation born of despair, I pushed on, till suddenly all grew dim and indistinct. I was conscious only of a great and terrible darkness rising and hiding my husband from my sight; struggling on blindly with outstretched hands I stag gered a few steps, and then, with a last wild wail of “Lionel—Lionel!” fell senseless upon the earth—my last thought, my last desire being to save him. Was it all in vain ? ***** "When I opened my eyes I found my self in a cottage, in the bright glare of a turf fire, with a crowd of eager aud frightened sympathizers around, and Lionel bending, white and anxious, over me. It was enough to know that he was safe—to cling tightly to him and feel his strong, protecting arms around me—and, weak, tired and exhausted, I fainted again. It had been a very narrow escape after all. Lionel had just reached the top of the long hill when he heard my cry, and, driving hastily back, had found me, to his great astonishment, lying in sensible, and Rifleman standing beside mo. Presently, Col. Arbuthnot, who had followed in hot haste, had come up, and they had carried mo into tho cot tage, wondering greatly what it meant. And I told my story. Had I been a minute later, in all hu man probability I should never in this world have heard his voice again. Delaney waited in vain that night, and whether he guessed or suspected that his plot had been discovered was never known, for ere morning dawned ho had fled and succeeded in making his escape from the country. Lionel and Col. Arbutlmot did all they could to have him brought to justice, but in vain —he was never heard of. Wo left Ireland before Christmas, for I bear to stay there after all I had gone through, and I never wish to see it again. As for Rifleman, I will never part with him ; the good horse that carried me so well that memorable night shall have a happy home and end his days in peace ; but for him I should never have won that terrible race. The movement for Canadian inde pendence is much more widespread and formidable than the Tories are willing to admit. Asa sample of what is going on among the native Canucks to become emancipated from British control, a re cent dispatch from Montreal says: “The Club National, of this city, composed of young Canadians, and affil iated with the Liberal party of the Do minion, has unanimously passed a series of resolutions declaring for full and complete independence for Canada. They say the colonial regime has no farther raison d'etre on the American continent; that our commercial rela tions demand an absolute right to make our own commercial treaties; that the protectorate of the mother country is a source of weakness instead of security, and a standing threat against peace and tranquillity; that independence will open anew horizon to the activity and ambition of Canadian citizens, who should no longer remain in dependence, inferiority and vassalage. The resolu tions conclude by calling on the Liberal party to make independence the chief plank in their platform.” A Cincinnati woman who found a baby in a basket on her door-step, took the infant to the station house, bat saved the basket to carry home her mar keting. A NICE QUESTION. A question has arisen in regard to tha right or propriety of a professor of an agricultural college, and consequently an employe of the public, acquiring a personal property in any discovery or invention lie may happen to make in such employment. The facts are as fol low’s ; Two of the professors of the Illinois Industrial University were employed in making experiments in producing sugar from sorghum. These experiments were so successful that the professors have patented the processes used in their own names and as their own property. As the question of the propriety of this course has arisen, the Principal of the university, under his own signature, has publicly defended it. But in the de fense he makes use of the following ex traordinary words in regard to the dis covery becoming public property: “‘Becoming public property’ sounds well; is a fine sentiment; but as a sen timent it would be just as nice to say the * dear public ’ should own, as a pub lie, all the property in the State.’’ Principal Scott uses an illustration which completely takes the ground from under his own feet; for the dear public do really and in fact own all the prop erty in the State, the apparent owners being simply occupiers, subject to the eminent domain and rights of the State. The State can, by due process of law, take possession of any person’s farm or house and put it to public uses, and in every grant of land to an individual this precedent right is reserved. Moreover, the State can take a person’s property and his person and use them for its own service when it is thought necessary by the State Government. The question is a narrow one. Must the farmers of Ill inois and of other States be compelled to pay a tax to persons who, in the course of their employment in a public capacity and while under public pay, discover any 1 methods for processes which they are employed to discover ? These gentlemen were certainly em ployed to experiment in making sugar. The cost of making the experiment was paid out of the university funds, which are public moneys. To whom, then, do the results of these experiments belong? Is the public to be satisfied with a long table of figures showing the results, while the methods of producing these results are kept secret and are reserved as the private property of the experi menters, for which those persons for whom the experiments were made—the farmers—must pay if they desire to use them ?—Country Gentleman. NOT A CRANK. A young fellow in England was re cently invited to visit an old gentle man who had a “mania” for ped igree or genealogy. As he had also a reputation for his dinners and his wines, the young man stood a good dea of talk about his host’s ancestors for the sake of the other things ; but when the old gentlemen took him through his picture gallery, and, showing him a por trait of an old fellow painted 200 years before—the time of James ll.—and said that it was a portrait of his father-in law ; and another H his brother-in-law, who, at the age of 18, fought at Edge hill in 1642 (being born in 1624); and a third of his nephew, who at the time of his death was ninety-two years older than his uncle, the guest got out of that house at the earliest possible moment. He was dealing with a “crank.” As it turned out, however, the old gentleman was correct. For his “brother-in-law,’, at the age of 78, married, in 1703, a young girl of 17. Her father was at thst time a young man, but he, too, married when very old and had children, his youngest being bom in 1739. In 1816, when she was 77 years old, the old gentleman who owned the picture gal lery married her, he being 19 at the time. So that the old gentleman’s father-in-law was, as he said, alive in the time of James IL But as this father-in-law had a son-in-law many years older than he was, this gave the old gentlemen a brother-in-law who would have been 257 years old if he had lived until 1881. As this brother-in-law died soon after his marriage, his young widow married again, and had a son who was born ninety-one years before his uncle (by marriage) was bom, so that old gentleman was not a lunatic, unless it was when at the age of 19 he married a woman nearly 60 years older than he was. George L Seney, President of the Metropolitan National Bank of New York, who recently presented the Brook lyn library with $60,000, has given tc religious, charitable and educational in stitutions no less than sl,4Bo a ooo< THEY NEVER GET OVER IT. “Do you know, my dear,” she sud denly said as she looked up from her pieco-work—“ do you know that next week will be the twentieth anniversary of our wedding ?” “Is that so? By George ! how time flies ! Why, I had no idea of it. ” “Yes, we have been married almost twenty long years,” she continued, with something of a sigh, “You have been a good husband to me, darling.” “And you have been a blessed little wife to me, Susan. Come here till I kiss you. There!” “I was thinking to-day—l was think ing of—of—” “Of that sickly-faced baboon who used to go homo with you from prayer meeting before I knew you ?” he inter rupted. “ Who do you mean ?” “ Why, that Brace fellow, of course.” “Why, George, he wasn’t such a bad fellow.” “ Wasn’t, eh ? Well, I’d like to know of a worse one. He didn’t know enough to chew putty, and there you were as good as engaged to him.” “ Yes, George, but you know you were keeping company at that same time with that Helen Perkins. ” “ That Helen Perkins ? Wasn’t Miss Perkins one of the loveliest and prettiest young ladies in the whole country ?” “ No, she wasn’t 1 She had teeth like a horse?” “ She did, eh? How about that stoop shouldered, white-headed Brace ?” “And such big feet as she had ! Why, George, she was the laughing-stock of the town.” “Not much she wasn’t! She was a young lady who would have made a model wife.” “ Then why didn’t you marry her and all her moles and warts and mushroom eyes ?” “Don’t talk that way to me! Her eyes were as nice as yours !” “ They wan’t.” “ They was ! I Believe you are sorry because you didn’t marry Brace !” “And I know you are sorry because you didn’t marry that beautiful and ac complished Miss Perkins 1” “I am, eh ? I thought you said I had been a good husband to you ?” “ And didn’t you call me your blessed little wife ?” Then he plumped down and began to read the mortgage sales and advertise ments in the paper, and she picked up her sewing and gave the cat a gentle kick. These old things will come up now and then, and somehow neither side ever gets entirely over them. “How is this for cheek?” inquired J. R. Davis, one of Barnum’s representa tives, Girard House, Philadelphia, to a reporter, as he grabbed a handful of the skin on the left side of John Hoffmier’s face and pulled it out five or six inches, like so much India-rubber. The repor ter was struck dumb by Mr. Davis’ cheeky behavior, but he was still more astonished to see Hoffmier smile as though he enjoyed the maltreatment. Then Mr. Davis explained that Hoffmier is the wonderful “India-rubber man’’ who lias puzzled German and French savant3 for several years. Although the rara avis with the elastic cu ticle does not speak or understand English, he smiled approvingly when Mr. Davis ceased speaking, and then, as if to sustain his reputation, pulled a handful of skin on the back part of his head around to his mouth and bit it, covered his entire face with the folds of skin which he drew up from his throat and neck, and pulled the skin on his arms and legs thirteen inches away from the flesh. The most remarkable thing is that as soon as the skin is released it instantly contracts to its original place, and as far as appearance is concerned does not differ from the epidermis of any healthy white person. The skin is very fair and its texture is remarkably fine—so fine, indeed, that it feels more like an infant’s than an adult’s. “ Mother,” remarked a Duluth girl, “ I think Harry must be going to pro pose to me.” “Why, so, my daugh ter ?” queried the old lady, laying down her spectacles, while her face beamed like a moon in its fourteenth night “ Well, he asked me this evening if I wasn’t tired living with such a menag erie as you and dad.” Ax autograph letter of George Wash ington’s, taking strong ground against slavery in this country, and expressing a fervent hope that it would soon be blotted out, is said to have been found among the papers of the late E. W. Stoughton. With it were other original and unpublished letters of Washington. SUBSCRIPTION-$1.60. NUMBER 30. PLEASANTRIES. There is something high-toned in churoh bells. When a bank “ goes up,” it generally fails to “come down.” Tellers of exaggerated stories are known as yarn merchants. What five letters form a sentence of forgiveness ? Ixqq u. “When sorrow has left its traoes,” what has become of the rest of the harness? An editor without a backbone don’t amount to much. It’s his principal column you know. Mr. Budd asked her, “ Rose,, wilt thou be mine? ” Rose answered, “I am sorry—but a rose cannot be turned into a bud.” Boiling hair in a solution of tea will darken it, says au exchange; but some folks don’t like to have their tea dark ened in that way. A youthful Pennsylvania Granger, about to be chastised by his father, called upon his grandfather to protect him from the middle man. “Now, then, what’s your papa’s name, Freddy?” “Dunno.” “Don’t know your papa’s name 1 Why, what does you mamma call him ?” “ Brute!” A barber offered a reward for instantly removing superfluous hair. Among the answers was; “Undertake to kiss a woman against her will. ” A 6- year-old was enveloped in a shirt much too big for him. After strutting about for some time he burst out; “Oh, ma! I feel awful lonely in this big shirt.” “What is the greatest charge on iccord 1 ” asked the professor of history. Aud he absent-miuded student an swered; “Seventeen dollars for hack hire for self and girl for two hours.” “ You never saw my hands as dirty as that 1” said a petulant mother to her little girl. “No, but perhaps your ma did 1” was the sharp, if not respectful, reply. Physicians say it is not healthy to sleep iu the daytime. That is why the baby which is taken to church never goes to sleep. It knows what is good f or its health. An old citizen in a country village, being asked for a subscription toward re pairing the fence of the graveyard, de clined, saying, “I subscribed toward improvin’ that buryin’ ground nigh onto forty years ago, and my family hain’t had no benefit from it yet.” “ Give tho young man a chance,” say* a writer. Ye3, give him a chance at a church festival in a raffle for a blue-eyed doll in poke-bonnet, and a “just too love ly for anything.” Give him a chance— to go out and kick himself full of holes because he went .to the festival. Christian at Work. A young man living in Leadville shipped to his little brother in St. Louis a choice donkey of the diminutive spe cies known as the Mexican burro. The agent, in making out his manifest, con cluded that “burro” meant “bureau,” and reported accordingly to his superior, “one bureau missing and one jackass over.” HOW THE “DIGGER” KEEPS WARM, Over in the Big meadows, any day, a fine illustration of chilly comfort may be seen in the plan adopted by the In dians to catch fish and keep warm at the same time. Follow the river, and occa sionally you come across a noble red man, muffled up in all the old coats and blankets he possesses, sitting in his ca noe, which is loaded with firewood. Three or four feet of the center of the canoe is covered with sand to the depth of two or three inches, and on this he keeps a bright fire blazing, and, with his back to the flame, pursues his duties of taking in the speckled beauties. The smoke might prove troublesome to a white man, but the Digger is in no dan ger of having his complexion injured, and, as he paddles along from one good riffle to another, he looks as independ ent as a lord, and throws a glance of pity at the poor devil of a white man, who takes his chances from the snowy bank, and has to knock under in the fish ing race at the rate of about five to one, —Plumas (Cal.) National. The Marquis of Hurtly, who is just now sadly wanted by his money-lender, has ruined himself on the turf. At his majority he came into an estate of 85,- 000 acres, with a rent-roll of SIOO,OOO. He married the daoghter of a wealthy banker; yet at only 34 years of age he is in the sore distress of poverty. Discontent is the want of self-reli ance.