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THE TRIE HEART.
Once upon a time, n Danish knight
was about to be married to the prettiest
damsel in all Denmark, and, according
to the custom of the country, he rode
about from one house to the other per
sonally inviting all his guests. There
was to be a dance and a feast after the
carcmony, and everyone he knew must
be bidden.
He rode many miles that day, and
after night fall found himself on the
further side of a great wood which
everyone said was haunted by elves,
and where there was indeed a fair)’
ring, as anyone could see who chose to
look for it.
Some people would have been afraid
to ride through the wood at night, but
Sir Olaf was a brave man so lie spurred
on his white horse and rode into the
woods.
The moon was rising; her white
beams penetrated the branches and
faintly illuminated thepath. They fell
upon his fine face and his long, fair,
flowing hair ; his blue eyes sparkled, he
was thinking of the girl lie loved and
of his coming wedding-day.
Suddenly a sound fell upon his ear
that broke his reverie ; it was the sound
of music—strange, delicate, beautiful
music.
The horse heard it and began to
show signs of terror, but Sir Olaf rode
on, looking about him carefully, for he
could not think that these delicate
harps and bugles were played upon by
human hands, and the tunes were all
strange and elfish.
So, ran the old legend, did the Elf
King’s daughters play to win the hearts
of any men who rode through the Elf
wood after nightfall.
“ But my heart they cannot win,”
said Olaf, “ for that belongs to my true
love. I have no fear of the Elf King’s
daughters.”
But just as he spoke he came into a
clearing in the wood; there was the
fairy ring; a flood of moonlight fell
across it; and there he saw three beau
tiful maidens, all in green', playing
upon strange and delicate instruments,
while in the midst of the ring stood one
still more lovely, who held out her
arms to him.
“ Welcome, welcome, Sir Olaf,” she
cried ; “ alight from your horse and
come hither. I am the Elf King’s
daughter, and it is my will that thou
shouldst come into the ring and dance
with me. It is au honor given to few
mortals.”
But Sir Olaf remained in his saddle,
only bowing to the Elf maiden.
“ I cannot dance with you,” he said.
“I cannot even stay. To-morrow is
my wedding-day, and I must ride home
to my bride.”
“Your bride is very fair, doubtless,
Sir Olaf,” said the Elf maiden, “ but
am I not fairer ? Light down, Sir
Olaf, and dance with me, and I will give
thee two golden spurs, and a robe of
white silk that the fair}' queen has
bleached in the moonshine, as a wed
ding-gift for thy lady.”
“ Many thanks, lovely Elf maiden,”
said the knight, “ but I must ride on.
I cannot stop upon my wedding eve to
dance or talk with thee. Good night,”
And he would have ridden on, but now
the Elf maiden advanced and caught
the horse by the bridle.
“ Light down, Sir Olaf,” said she,
“ and I will give thee gold. Thou shalt
have more gold than thou hast ever
hoped to have, for thou art but poor,
though thou art so brave. Dance in
the ring with me, and thou shalt be
rich.”
“Nay,” replied Sir Olaf, “I have
told thee it is my wedding eve. I can
dance with none but my bride. Let go
my bridle, good Elf maiden, and fare
well.”
But now the beautiful eyes of the
fairy woman sparkled with rage.
“If thou wilt not dance with me,
Sir Olaf,” she said, “ thou shalt remem
ber me. The man who will not take the
Elf maiden's kiss shall have the Elf
stroke from the hand.”
Then she rose on tip-toe and struck
him over the heart, and cried, “Get thee
home to thy bride, Sir Olaf; get thee
home to thy bride.”
Away sped the horse, but Sir Olaf
sat upon him pale and without motion ;
his hand no longer held the bridle; his
eyes saw nothing ; his lips were dumb ;
a white corpse seemed to ride upon the
white steed in the moonlight.
All night those who awaited for the
coming of Sir Olaf watched for him in
vain ; the day dawned, and he had not
come; but so brave a knight would
never fail his bride. The feast was
spread; the wine was poured; the
bride was dressed : the guests arrived.
VOL. II—NO. 37.
Where tarried Sir Olaf? Those who
knew that he had ridden into the Elf
forest at moonrise felt their hearts grow
weary; but as all eyes turned toward
: the wood, there came forth from it a
I
white horse which all knew to be Sir
Olaf s.
It was ridden by a knight who seem
ed to be frozen in his saddle; he was
white to the lips; his wide-open eyes
stared at nothing. The horse came on
and paused in their midst, and as though
some unseen thing had until that mo
ment supported him, the knight fell
forward upon his face. It was Sir
Olaf.
“ lie is dead !” shrieked the bride.
“ Dead ! dead !” shrieked the mother.
“ Dead !” chorused the guests.
And they wept over him as he lay in
their midst, and cried, “ There will be
no wedding, but a funeral—the funeral
of the bravest and best beloved knight
in Denmark.”
Then the bride tore her hair and
scattered her jewels upon the ground ;
but there uprose in the midst of the
guests an old. wise woman, who had
lived more than a hundred years.
Her long, gray hair fell down on
either side of her head-bands, her
cheeks were wrinkled, and she was bent
double, but her shrill voice filled all the
place.
“ Listen to me, oh, friends!” she
said. “ I know what you know not.
The brave young knight, Sir Olaf, has
met the Elf maidens in the wood, and
has had the Elf stroke. To every man
who rides through the wood after night,
the Elf maidens call: ‘ Come and
dance,’ they cry; ‘ come and dance.’
And whether they dance or not, they
give them the Elf stroke over the heart.
Only there is this difference. It is well
known to all wise people, the man who
is untrue to his wife or his love is dead,
and all the doctors in Denmark cannot
restore him. But one who is quite true,
who, there in the darkness of the wood,
with the Elf maidens only to look upon
him, and the beautiful eyes of the Elf
King’s daughter looking into his, is ut
terly true, and neither kisses her soft
lips, or dances with her, or takes from
her gift or ring, him the lips of his true
love may bring to life again. The bride
has but to kiss him, and he lives again.
Only,” said the old, wise woman,
shaking her head, “in my time none
have come to life again. All have died
who have had the Elf stroke.”
“ But if thy words be true, old wo
man. Sir Olaf will breathe once more,”
cried the bride, “ for he is true as steel.
I know my knight. I have no doubt
of him.”
And she knelt beside her pallid
lover, trembling and weeping, and
showered kisses on his lips, while all
stood about in silence, scarcely daring
to breathe.
And under these kisses the white
lips grew red again; the pale cheeks
flushed, life sparkled in those frozen
eyes.
The bride felt her knight's breath
upon her cheek.
“ Wise woman, thou hast spoken the
truth,” she cried; “.even the Elf stroke
cannot harm the true heart, and my
Olaf is true as the steel of his own
good blade.”
Then up rose Sir Olaf, strong and
fair as ever, and took his bride by the
hand, and far in the Elf wood were
heard strange, wild sounds, the Elf
King's daughters shrieking with rage ;
for they, like the old, wise woman, had
never before known one so true as to
refuse their kisses and their gold.
The Barnwell People is of the opinion
that the farmer who crawls out of bed
at 8 o’clock, eats a poor breakfast, and
then goes fishing or hunting, or to the
village comer to talk politics, drink
whisky and rail against the State as no
farming country, who takes no papers
and condemns book farming, and
threatens to move to Texas or Califor
nia to get revenge on the State that
will not give him a good living without
work, is a dead weight upon the farm
ing interests of any country.
The following is Aunt Betsy’s descrip
tion of the milkman : “ He is the mean
est man in the world !” she exclaimed.
“ He skims his milk on the top, and then
he turns it over and skims the bottom.”
Party Organization.
This old machine has been in use for
a long time. Let us see its results.
Well, in the first place, if we are not
mistakeu, it secured Grant's election a*
President, Moses, of 8. C., as well as
his successor, Chamberlain, also Bullock
of Georgia; all of these men and many
others were placed in high and eminent
positions by the means of Conventions,
etc. We admit, of course, that some
good men have beeu elected to office as
regular nominees, Governor Colquitt and
H. P. Bell, our immediate Representa
tive, as instances, but then we are can
didly of the opinion that the safety of a
government like ours, depends upon the
absolute and freedom of
the ballot box. —Toccoa Herald.
The above is from the pen of Hon.
Thomas Crymes, of the Toccoa Herald,
who we understand is “ braying on the
Independent track ” this year, but from
the above it seems that this article is
written in favor of organization. Now,
Bro. Crymes, you admit that the Radi
cal party achieved their success by
nominating their man and clinging to
him. Now suppose they had have had
a “ self-instituted ” candidate in the field,
as is Emory Speer in this District, how
would they have come out? Would it
have strengthened their party? Would
they have been successful ? Most as
suredly they would not. By organiza
tion is the only safe plau by which any
party can keep in power, and they were
defeated by strict organization by the
Democratic party. As he steps over to
South Carolina, let us see what Govern
or Hampton says of the Independents
of to-day. 4 4 There may be some good
men who are Independents, but at this
time they are our worst enemies.”
A great change has come over Bro.
Crymes politically, for our readers will
all remember, in the language of Col.
Speer, that he is “the little bull that at
tempted to butt the engine off the track,”
in a reply to Col. Speer in Camesville
last year. We think his argument this
year is “as clear as mud” for the Inde
pendent, though “ mortal dim.” Speer’s
friends said last year that Mr. Crymes
“ didn’t know which one of the boys he
was,” and we are sure his friends
don’t know “ which one of the boys he
is this year.” We hate to differ in opin
ion even politically with one we esteem
as highly as we do Bro. Crymes, but we
believe he is wrong this year, though cor
rect iu his last campaign. The word
“ Independent” we admire in one defi
nition of the word, but we equally de
test that application of its meaning that
makes one independent of the true in
terest of our country and our party.
This independent movement will not do,
for a house divided against itself must
fall. —Camesville Register.
Maxim.
Never endorse a note for anybody,
rich or poor, for an amount which you
cannot afford to lose. If it becomes nec
essary that you should, in the course of
business transactions, reciprocate with
one or more persons the liability which
the ceremony of endorsing paper, made
payable at a bank, implies, let the indi
viduals with whom you would negotiate
such an intercourse, be men of tried
judgement, of experience, and of pru
dence.
Never endorse the note of a specula
tor on any condition, and never enter
into speculations yourself on the strength
of borrowed capital. In the small town
where I am writing this caution, there
are several men who six months since
were worth from twenty-five thousand to
one hundred thousand dollars, that are
now not worth one cent. It was wild
gambling speculations in cotton that re
reduced them to their present condition.
They have my compassion, it is true,
and so has a ruined prodigal, and all
other victims of error. They are alike
unfortunate —very unfortunate ; but
where is their relief? where their rem
edy? Alas! very often—nowhere. A
speculator’s house is built upon stilts,
and a prudent man will pass it on the
opposite side of the street, lest in its
fall he too should be crushed under its
ruins.
A child in Cincinnati, born with the
liver and small intestines outside the ab
domen, lived eight days.
HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 8, 1878.
Remarkable Masonic Incident.
The first Masonic funeral that ever
occurred in California took place in the
year 1829, and was performed over a
brother found in the bay of San Fran
cisco. An account of the ceremonies
states that on the body of the deceased
was found a silver mark of a Mason,
upon which was engraved the initials of
his name. A little further investiga
tion revealed to the beholder the most
singular exhibition of Masonic em
blems that was ever drawn by the in
genuity of man upon the human skin.
There is nothing in the history of tra
ditions of Freemasonry equal to it.
Beautifully dotted on his left, arm, in
red and blue ink, which dissolution
could only efface, appeared all the em
blems of the entered apprenticeship.
There were the Holy Bible, the square
and compass, the 24-inch gauge and
common gavel. There was also the
Masonic pavement representing the
ground floor of King Solomon’s temple,
the indented tassel which surrounds it,
and the blazing star in the centre. On
his right arm, and artistically executed
in the same indelible liquid, were the
emblems pertaining to the fellow-craft
degree, viz : the square, the level, and
the plumb. There were five orders of
architecture, the tuscan, doric, ionic,
corinthian, composite.
In removing the garments from his
body the trowel presented itself, with
all the other tools of operative mason
ry. Over his heart was the pot of in
cense. On the other parts of his body
were the beehive, the “ Book of Con.
stitutions,” guarded by the Tyler’s
sword pointing to the naked heart; the
hour glass, the scythe; the second
problem of Euclid; the sun, moon,
stars and comet, the three steps, em
blematic of youth, manhood and age.
Admirably executed was the weeping
virgin, reclining upon a broken column
upon which lay the “ Book of Constitu
tions.” In her left hand she held a pot
of incense, the Masonic emblem of the
immortality of the soul.
Immediately beneath her stood wing
ed Time, with his scythe by his side,
which cuts the brittle thread of life,
and the hourglass at his feet, which is
reminding us that our lives are wither
ing away. The withered and attenua
ted fingers of the Destroyer were
placed amid the long and gracefully
flowing ringlets of the disconsolate
mourner. Thus were the striking em
blems of mortality blended in one pic
torial representation. It was a specta
cle such as Masons never saw before,
and in all probability such as the fra
ternity will never see again. The
brother’s name was never known.
Foolhardy Shooting.
N. Y. Sun.
The killing of Lottie Maily (M’lle
Volante) by Mrs. Franklin, in a Paw
tucket variety show, has rather increas
ed than lessened the business in dan
gerous feats in marksmanship. Frank
Frayne, the first to introduce that style
of entertainment, is still shooting ob
jects from his wife's hands and head in
the West. She has only one thumb,
the other having been shot away. The
Austin brothers, probably the most
reckless of all these marksmen, are also
traveling in the West. Buffalo Bill
omitted the marksmanship from his
performances in Brooklyn, last week,
at the request of the Mayor. This
evening he begins an engagement in
the Bowery Theatre.
Not only are the old performers stick
ing to their perilous feats, but new ones
are offering themselves to managers of
variety halls. In the American, in
Third avenue, two boys gave an exhi
bition in the Saturday matinee. They
call themselves the Anderson Brothers,
and are seemingly about fifteen to six
teen years of age. They used breach
loading rifles, with ordinary cartridges
of powder and ball. At each side of
the stage a block of wood was suspend
ed to receive the bullets, and in front
of these blocks the brothers stood while
alternating in the risk of holding small
things on their heads or in their hands
to be shot at. The usual exploits of
Bhooting the ashes off a cigar held in
the mouth, and shooting potatoes from
the head, were successfully performed.
The audience was visibly nervous, but
the boys wero unflinching. The shot
by which Miss Maily lost her life was
made. One boy stood with a rifle
pointed backward over his left shoul
der, aimed at a potato on his brother’s
head by means of a looking-glass, and
in that position sent a bullet through
the small target. The audience evi
dently remembered the fatality con
nected with that, feat, and breathed
freer when it was over. There were a
few hisses of disapprobation, and a
great deal of applause. Next, one boy
bent backward over the scat of a chair,
and in that unsteady attitude shot a
potato from his brother’s head. The
danger throughout was equally shared.
A trained dog was afterward introduced
as a holder of apples and potatoes to
be fired at.
Since the Maily accident bills have
been introduced in five Legislatures
forbidding dangerous exhibitions of
marksmanship. This State has no law
on the subject.
A Lily <>f the Valley.
Judge—Officer, where did you find
this colored man ?
< Iffieer—l found him last night hang
ing around Devlin & Co.’s clothing
store. Mr. Devlin has had a good
deal of clothing stolen lately and I
brought this man in on suspicion.
Judge—-What is your name ?
Prisoner—Napoleon Bonaparte Ju
lius Gibbs.
Judge—What is your occupation?
Gibbs —I’se traveling agent for de
new patent white wash brush, sail.
Judge—Take off your coat, Gibbs.
Gibbs—l hope you'll 'sense me sail.
I’se been troubled lately wid the ’flu
ency in de head, de ’zootic, sah. I’se
very bad.
Judge—Take off your coat., Gibbs.
(Gibbs takes off his coat slowly.)
Judge— Ah ! Another coat under
that; nothing like being well wrapped
up, as they say in Alaska when they go
a skating. Take off your coat, Gibbs.
Gibbs—l isen’t well, I isen’t sah.
De doctor say, Napoleon, you wear
plenty clothes. De ’fluency, sah. (But
takes off liis coat.)
Judge—Ah! What have we here?
A swallow-tail! Take off your coat,
Gibbs.
Gibbs —l)is yere won’t do, Judge.
Pse got a stuffness in de borax. I’se
very bad. (Takes off his coat.)
Judge—Ah ! A long double-breasted
frock ! Take off your coat, Gibbs.
Gibbs—l)ars gwinc to be a funeral
here, dar is, sah ; I feels the stuffness
rising in de borax. (Takes off his
coat.)
Judge—What's this? A shooting
jacket, by the soul of Nimrod ! Take
off your coat, Gibbs.
Gibbs—Pse gwine for a corpus—Pse
getting cold. Dis yere is murder inde
first degree. (Takes off his coat.)
Judge—A linen duster. I think I’ve
got you down to hard pan, Gibbs. I
shall commit }'ou without bail. Take
him down gently, officer, for he is a lily
—a lily of the valley. He toils not,
neither does he spin ; yet Solomon, in
all his glory was not clothed like him.
Trying to Lire Without Work.
The following from the pen of Horace
Greeley, is true and applicable to this
day: “Our people are two widely in
clined to shun the quiet ways of produc
tive labor and try to live and thrive on
the crooked paths of speculation and
needless traffic. We have deplored few
boys learning trades, with ten times too
many anxious to get into business ; that
is to devise some scheme whereby they
may live without work. Of the jour
neyman mechanics now at work in this
city, we judge that two-thirds were born
in Europe ; and the disparity is steadily
augmenting. One million families are
trying to live by selling liqnors, tobacoo,
candy, etc., in our cities, who could be
spared therefrom without the slightest
public detriment; and if these were
transferred to the soil, and set to grow
ing grain, meats, wool, etc., or employed
in smelting the metals, or weaving the
fabrics for which we are runniug into
debt in Europe, our country would in
crease its wealth at least twice, as fast as
now, and there would be far less com
plaint of dull trade and hard times,”
By learn'ng to obey you will learu to
command.
WHOLE NO. 89.
I ANECDOTE OF JAMES K. PDLK.
BY EUGENE L. THORPE.
The following anecdote of James K ,
Polk I have often heard told by my fa
ther, who was ono of the persona men
tioned: In the year 1840, when Polk,
was Governor of Tennessee, there occur
red a vacancy in the United States
Senate caused by the death of a member
from that State. The Senator’s term harf
nearly expired, and before a new mem
ber could be chosen the session would
be nearly over; yet the Governor waa
importuned to call an extra session of
the legislature to elect a Senator to fill
the vacancy, but would not for tha
reasons above given. Excitement ran
high, and there wns considerable talk,
even in the neighboring States: but th
Governor was firm, *nnd all entreaties
and talk proved unavailing. About this
time Folk started for New Orleans, and
arriving at Southland, Kv., on his way
there, atopi>cd at the Gower House, kept
by an old friend of his, Mnj. Gower,
who did his utmost to show his distin
guished guest all the attention he could.
Smithland is situated at the mouth of
the Curnlierland river, and boets stop
ping there on their way down the Ohio,
their officers would make their head
quarters at the Gower House. At the
time Polk was there several boats were
lyiug at the wharf, and of course the
Gower House had its usual number-
Several persous were in the bar-room,
and one, a vociferous fellow from one of
the boats, wns going on about the Gov
ernor’s recent action, and finally wound
up his tirade by saying: “ When I get
back from New Orleans I am gwng to
Nashville and give the old Governor a
regular blowiug up.” Polk stood quiet
ly by and listened to hear him through
and said: “Are you acquainted with
the Governor?” “Oh, yes,” said the
boatman, “ well acquainted ; in fact wo
are near relatives.” “Ah! indeed I”
said Polk ; then, winking to those who
knew him, he ordered glasses and liquor,
and invited all to drink.
All accepted his invitation, and just
after all had touched glasses in the old
fashioned way, Maj. Gower, who under
stood the situation, said : “ Stranger,
allow me to make you acquainted with
Governor Polk, o t Tonuoeooc M TWo
boatman dropped his glass, and, raising
both hands, with a look of the most in
tense astonishment sputtered out: " My
God !is that Governor Polk? I never
saw a Governor before!” And, leav
ing his liquor untasted, he rushed out of
the door amid the laughter of the rest,
who keenly enjoyed his discomfiture and
the Governor’s generosity.
The Value of Money.
Ask cac!) ringing dollar in thin
world its history —How it came into
life. Some of them will tell you they
represent the tears of a widow, the bar
tered honor of a man, the jobbery of a
ring; and the thousand of other stories
which you would be told, I need not
now relate. Benjamin Franklin said
the road to wealth is as plain as the road
to Market. Yes, it is the good old-fash
ioned road of honest toil. We some
times say that the day of miracles is pass
ed. There is one ndracle still existing
—the miraculous result of hard labor
that is accomplished by the dripping
sweat of the brow. The value of mon
ey is not what it buys, but what it costa.
Home men’s money costs them too much ;
others too little. A man who makes
his money at the expense of his health
and his honor, pays too much ; he that
gets his money by lucky hits, pays too
little. If he pays too much he cheats
himself. If he pays too little he cheats
mankind. The golden mean between
those two extremes was well expressed in
the prayer of Agar, who said, “Give
me neither poverty nor riches.” If a
man would bring Arcadia let him abol
ish poverty and wealth. But Arcadia
will never come.
A preacher recently said at a public
meeting in Brooklyn that the colored
people were destiued to be a greater
blessing to the South than the South had
ever been to them. The South has done
the colored man some serviee— so much
that he will have to exert himself to re
turn the favor. It is no small thing to
have rescued eight millions of people
from savagery, canuabalism. It is true
that it was all worked out through pe
cuniary interest; but so are all great
things in this world. —Nashville Ameri.
can.
A three-year-old youngster saw a
drunken man “ tacking ” through the
street. “ Mother,” said he, “ did God
make that man?” “Yes, my child,”
The little lxy reflected a moment and
then exclaimed, “ I wouldn't have done
it.”