Newspaper Page Text
■al (.1 ST\ I,> YE 01-HEN
9 TIME ; /
■Hi. n. . Ilaurri I Him' in l
|H Kuilrwad Hn.
Hect of our sketch, who is
■to the most of your read-
Hrn aml raised in this County.
Hlhert. not lar from where he
■ He is now about 52 years
BH 9 V <?. ’ JtS %
■c first came to the age of 21.
V cp'/’ bir that year amounted
3<M jHiunds (whlih
ptJPf as cot; on was packed
Br'lin the old-fash-
Ijp no presses in
fe market for this
ntry was Augusta,
les, and his Uncle,
posed, if he would
igusta and assist
at he would haul
s of freight. Our
this offer, and one
>n started, ladcned
ton and drawn by
.ccompanying this
iect of our sketch
Win. Rowers and
VOL. II—NO. 47.
his dear, good mother. The 'wagon
overtook him, and by night they had
arrived in a sort of wagon yard, called
“ Lickskillet ” —a noted place in Au
gusta for wagoners.
I 'he next morning alanit three hours
>re day, his Uncle William Bowers
woke him up and told him that lie was
very sick, and he thought he must lie
dying. Our hero got up, examined
him and found that he had an attack of
the measles. llis uncle told him:
“Now, William, you know there is
only one remedy that was ever heard
of for measles, and that is whisky.”
So William had to get right up and
go into the city and procure the medi
cine, a quart of the best rye whisky.
His uncle took a good swig, became
easier, covered up his head and fell
asleep.
In the morning they hitched up, drove
up in town, and his sick uncle, with
the consent of the firm with whom they
traded, was taken in a back room and
cared for. But our hero had to look
after the whole business of selling the
cotton and loading the wagon. He had
no great difficulty, except once, when
he came very near knocking a negro
fellow down who in measuring up some
salt in a half bushel, persistently gave
the lightest of measure, and whenever
Mr. Bowers would kick the half bushel
the negro would empty it out, and fill
it up again lightly. At last he came to
selling his own bale of cotton, for
which the merchant paid him at 6|c
per pound some $lB in bank bills.
This was more money than he had
ever had before, but he did not exactly
like the bills. On inquiry he was told
he could get them exchanged for silver
at the bank. He repaired there at once,
and asked the gentlemanly clerk to
make the exchange, and before he could
say “Jack Robinson - the clerk had
~- J i pusdEt towar*wwww
on the coSftte; a large pile of silver.
Mr. Bowers said :“ No sir; you count
it!—l don't want the money till you
countit!” He thought the clerk told
him to count it. But the clerk told
him he was satisfied.
And now the dilemma was what to
do with all this money—slß in bright
new silver halves and quarters. His
pants pockets would not hold it well,
for in rolling about in camp it would
lose out; his- vest pockets were too
small; and finally he thought of his
coat pockets. He had on a bran new
swallow-tail coat, made by his mother
out of the best home-made cotton cloth
of the County and of most approved
pattern, for the tails reached to within
six inches of the ground or nearly to
his ankles, and at the end where the
forks came together was not more than
four inches wide. So he dropped his
money piece by piece down into the
deep recesses of one of these pockets,
which was not more than two inches
wide, and with a feeling of rich exulta
tion he took out one of his shoe strings
and tied the tail hard and fast just
above the money, and, readers, he tied
that string in a hard knot, for he took
particular care of that money—you
may depend upon it, it was well tied.
After they got up their loading they
started homeward; but his uncle re
minded him that the liquor was about
out, and it was a very important ele
ment to their journey and well being.
So the liquor was procured and they
set their faces homeward. That night
they camped near a widow lady’s house
who kindly took in his uncle, who was
suffering badly with the measles by
this time, and Mr. Bowers had to be
up with him nearly all night. The
next morning his uncle told him he
was obliged to die, and there was no
use in his staying there on expense
and the horses eating their heads off;
that he had just as well go on home
and leave him there, and if he got well
he could get home somehow. "Which
advice, Mr. Bowers being very young
at the time, accepted and drove off
[without his uncle. The bad weather
proke after awhile and the sun shone
: and some time during the day a
Bji’daao came up behind containing his
to t-'-j i,„ j m q recovered suf-
B' wa ?° n " td he wodiot into
llTl TUB
■ ■I"-
Is vorj’
B ■
5
■ Hi Uli Is
ll'l l>Ot-
Ih-'lvi's
Id that
B’htl'i" I.
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■o was
■ I ;■ |i|.
[Lit sale
■AIn ml
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■ SI1 " W
■ -
Hod on
Huh
K- h ,
Hiy his
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flc
Hut
Hi til:--
H omi-
I 110
going down the
ent toomcar one
lit down in the
t wagon, cotton.
■is uncle
i his first
which he
box deep
Iscoverd
||is sup-
heav
ed have
thought
9B fislmess
if thought
hole party,
md delay,
ce of Mr.
ve negroes,
ht side up.
02 1 in this
I they were
la, and Un-
i that if he
lahead and
I Augusta.
I Mr. Bow
fttmik him.
Hid asked
Rii of the
I in trav
bd place
Le went
Ind the
i so that
Lddied
IliHiise
■y di-
H lie
ised,
ntlc-
I in.
Ind
Hie
Hi"
At
.. ■—...1 ■ ■ - ...
driving and walking would rest him.
But while he was walking he felt some-'
, thing tapping him on the calf of the
1 leg. He looked down and soon discov
ered that it was his money in the poc
ket of his swallow-tail coat. The tap
ping was very pleasant at first, for at j
I every step he took it was a reminder to
him of the little fortune contained in
that pocket, all of which belonged to
him; but after awhile the tapping on
his leg seemed to get harder and harder,
! and he would once in awhile rest his
leg by carrying his coat, tail on his arm. ;
i This continued all day, and the next
| morning he examined his leg, which he
found considerably bruised and sore:
from one end to the other. And right
here Mr. Bowers remarked that from
that day to this he was and has ever
been a railroad man. X.
EIGHTY-NINE.
Chronicle $,• Constitutionalist , July 7th.
As wc anticipated, the Democratic
meeting yesterday was a very small as
semblage of citizens. The Executive
Committee had called it for the purpose
—and the sole purpose —of selecting a
new committee and the occasion was
|
not one to induce a large attendance of
the people. Asa consequence there
were only a hundred and forty or fifty
persons present, although nearly thirty
five hundred votes were cast for the
Democratic candidates at the election
last December and although nearly
hundred Democratic votes were
to
cast at the Democratic primary election
last October. Though the meeting was
called for a specific purpose, to-wit:
the election of anew Executive Com
i mittee : those who had charge of it did
not hesitate to carry out the scheme
that seems to have been previously ma-
tured. Eighty-nine Democrats voted
down a motion to allow all the Demo
jf M&r
at a primary* election, and eight y-nme
Democrats choose eighteen delegates to
the Thomson Convention. The pro
gramme appears to have been carried
out to the letter. The gentlemen who
are in favor of nomination Mr. Stephens
under any circumstances had the power
and did not hesitate to use it; and it
may be considered certain that the vote
of Richmond in the Convention will be
cast for Mr. Stephens. It seems to be
equally certain that, notwithstanding
his letter to lion. H. R. Casey, Mr.
Stephens will not encounter any ap
preciable oppdsition when the Conven
tion assembles. He will be nominated
notwithstanding his gratuitous defiance
of the Democracy and his contempt-!
ous disregard of the party organization j
that has twice placed him in the posi-'
tion which he now occupies. He will i
be nominated notwithstanding he still
says, in effect, that if the Convention
nominates him it will reflect the wishes
of the people of the District; i( it
does not nominate him he will treat its
action as a fulmination of a body of ir
responsible tricksters and run as an
Independent. If a Democratic Con
vention sees proper to choose him as
their standard-bearer under such cir
cumstances the Chronicle $• Constitu
tionalist will certainly be content. We
have the consciousness of knowing that
we have had no interest in the matter
beyond a desire to preserve the organi
zation and perpetuate the power of the
party that redeemed the State from rob
ber rule, and which alone can save the
State from Radical domination. Per
sonally our relation with Mr. Stephens
have been and are of the kindest char
acter. But for his letter to Hon. 11.
R. Casey the Chronicle d* Constitu
tionalist would have offered no opposi
tion to his renomination. But we had
battled too often with Independentism,
and knew too well its baneful effects, 1
to allow that threat of disrupting the
party to pass without a protest. That
the protest has been unavailing we do
not pretend to deny. But whether it
was successful or unsuccessful we feel
that we have discharged a duty which
we owed alike to ourselves and to the
political party with which this paper
has hitherto been in accord. We have
done nothing demanding either apology
I or retraction. We stand by every line
and every word that has appeared in
columns on this subject, and we
—■®d that the future will vindi
* ‘he course v - have
HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY. JULY 17, 1878.
BILL AKP.
*< . i to M
H* firom KxHlrri Over (he ( nnlnl Rr.
tween Hie <'aia| mill I rm.
Cor. Atlanta Constitution.
Mr. Editur : The crops are laid by,
honey bees are hummin in the corn
tassels, morning glories open to the
rising sun, the cotton patch is white
9ith blooms and everything gives signs
i peace and plenty in this delightful
id. It's a good time now for a re
bs and a frolic, and so for our ainuse
lhent the political campaign has opened
tihe ball in the 7th Congressional Dis
trict. The issue is made up—the skir
mishin’ has begun, the sharpshooters
have been put in position, and before
long you will hear the sound of heavy
Artillery reverberatin' all over these
mountains.
I see you have gotten up a side show
in Atlanta alnmt who organized the
Democratic party in Georgia in 167.
Well, I reckon somebody did it, and
now the issue in our district is whether
that organization is or is not worth
preserving : Radicals and independents
are on one side and the organized de
mocracy on the other. This is the sub
stantial question. There is nothin else
in it that I can see—no charge of fraud
or trick, no bribery, no corruption.
The gauntlet has been fairly thrown
down, the wager of battle made. Both
sides are honest and earnest, and have
put out their boldest, champions. They
are men whom the people have delight
ed to honor. They are both of the
same religious family, and have served
their country faithfully in war and in
peace. Atxive all, both of them are
gentlemen, and the fight will be made
in an open field in the light of day,
while the eyes of millions, as Jim
Brown says, will be a looking on.
'Oie issue is a tremendous one. and I
feel like getting upon a mountain and
£xclaimm, “ Soldiers, 10. wnUi i> tw mw.
lookin down upon you from the hights
of these pyramids.” I tell you, Mr.
Editur, its goin to be a Waterloo in
this district; somebody is goin to be
beat, but who it is I’ll be blamed if I
know. I ain’t got any money to bet
on it, shore. You see, the doctor has
got the inside track, because he’s
always in, and has done a thousand
little things that makes a man friends
and keeps ein; and the doctor is a
preacher and has the gift of tongue, as
St. Paul says, which is a good thing
for a preacher to have.
But, then, on the other hand, Lester
has got a power of friends hissclf, and
he never loses any ; and lie's eloquent
and mity nigh as homely as the doctor.
Besides that he’s a crippled soldier and
when he rises forward before the moun
tain boys and stretches forth one arm
in the heighth of his argument, and the
other flops around loose in an empty
sleeve, don’t you know them boys will
yell ? They ain’t forgot Murfreesboro,
nor Shilo, nor Gettysburg’ nor Freder
icksburg, nor Petersburg, nor any other
burg. Willingham thinks he knows,
and may be lie does ; but I’m goin’ to
ax Harris. What he don’t know ain’t
worth knowin’. You see its the camp
agin’ the cross this time, square out;
and I wish you could hear Cousin John
Thrasher upon that. There are two
men a runnin’ fer the legislator up at
Central, where Cousin John feeds the
travellin’ people, and a man axed him
who he should vote for. “ Why, vote
for the crutch sed he, “ every time ;
always vote for the crippled soldier;
don’t ax no questions about him, but
vote for him. He deserves it, whether
he’s the fittest man or not; no man
can do more for his country than he
tried to do; other people may forget
’em but I shan't. I love ’em, I honor
’em, I clothe ’em, I feed ’em. I never
charged one for a meal in ray life, and
so help me God I never will”—and
Cousin John rose up excitedly and
shook himself and hollered, “Joe, you
black rascal, you; why don’t you come
along with that water ?”
Mr. Waterson has struck the bugle
note. He dared to tell the union sol
diers the other day in his big speech
that he was for pensioning the cripples
and willows and orphans of both sides,
and they cheered him lively and shout
ed approval—and it will be done yet —
you see if it ain't. Them radicals that
! howl so much wasent it* the fight, but
the qld soldiers are coinin’ to the front
and. 1 ain’t agreed if an empty sleeve
or a scratch wliether its in Congress or
out of it. Brave men are always kind
to their friends and honorable to their
foes anti if we can’t trust them we can’t
trust nobody. Yours, Bill Aki\
P. S.—While you and your folks are
investigate about who saved our State
rights in 1867, I wish you would go
back a little and find out who lost ’em
in 1868-64. If a boy is saved from
drowin’ the first question is who flushed
him in ! Anybody can hold out a pole.
B. A.
“ I’m a Bn nee. Sir.”
Keokuk Constitution.
“ What’s your name ?" a teacher out
in the country asked anew pupil.
“ I'm a dunce, sir," replied the boy.
The teacher's eyes dilated a little,
and thinking he hadn't understood,
said:
“ What did you say ?”
“ I’m a dunce, sir," repeated the lioy,
whq was rather a bright-looking lad.
“ You're a dunce, are you ?” said the
teacher, smiling.
“ No, sir,” said the boy.
“ Why, didn't j'ou say so ?"
“ No, sir.”
“ Y'es you did.”
“ No, sir.”
The teacher was about to appeal to
the school to sustain him, when a
thought struck him, and, turning to the
boy, he asked:
“ What is your name ?”
“ Isaac, sir.”
“ And your next ?” *
*• May, sir.”
The teacher was quivering with ex
citement now, nnd he was fairly trem
bling with eagerness as he asked :
“ And the last ?”
“ Dunn, sir.”
——c No\? 01 It 1 *
shout thepedagogue.
•* I May Dunn, sir.”
“ Boys," yelled the teacher, “ always
be careful, and lie correct and particu
lar in your pronunciation. this be
a warning to you.”
A Humorist’s Dinner.
“Twenty minutes for dinner,” shout
ed the brakem.m, as we approached
Lathrop.
Arrived there, I entered the dining
room and enquired of the waiter:
“ What do j'ou have for dinner ?”
“ Twcntj* minutes,” was the hurried
reply.
I told him I would try half-a-dozen
minutes raw on the half-shell, just to
sec how they went. Told him to make
a minute of it on his books. He
scratched his head, trying to compre
hend the order, but gave it up, and
waited upon someone else.
I approached a man who stood near
the door with a lot of silver in his
hand : “ What do you have for dinner ?”
“ Half a dollar,” says lie.
I told him I would take half a dol
lar well done. I asked him if he could
not give me, in addition, a boiled poc
ket-book stuffed with greenbacks, and
some seven-thirties garnished with pos
tage-stamps and ten-cent scrip. And I
would like to wash my dinner down
with national bank notes on “ draft.”
He said they were out of everything
but the bank notes, and that as soon as
the train left he would order the waiter
to “ draw ” some.
An actress, whose fresh smile and
silver voice favored the deception,
always called herself “ sweet sixteen.”
She stated her age as sixteen in court
as a witness. Her son was directly
afterward called up and asked how old
he was. “ Six months older than mo
ther,” was the honest reply.
A country editor in Michigan thus
bids farewell to his readers, his paper
having expired: “Good bye!—Toll
the bell gently !—This is our last kick !
—Handle us with care !—Lower us
gently to rest!—We die a natural
death !—The wolf is at our door!—
Bury me under a rose bush!—Listen
to the mocking birds!”
Those who have the least religion
make the most fuss about it.
Lemons sixteen inches in diameter
grow abundantly in the mild neighbor
hood of Galveston, Texas. Nr
WHOLE NO. 99
•
AN ARKANSAS DIVORCE CASE.
BY PKACHAM.
Rome men arc fastidious in selecting
wives. Others are not at all nice in
matters matrimonial. But a breach-of
promise case in Arkansas, in general, is
far too rare and serious to leave a loop
hole tor a laugh to come in.
Mr. Johnson Topp moved from Ten
nessee across Mississippi into Arkansas.
He was a man o( means and a bachelor.
He was not wholly adverse to matrimo
ny, but he had n fear of widows. Grass
widows especially were a terror to him.
Ho had moved from East Tennessee to
Middle Tennessee, from that section to
West Tennessee, and finally over into
Arkansas, to escape from real or fancied
matrimonial danger arising from enter
prising, perhaps charming Tennessee
widows.
This being Mr. Johnson Topp's his
torj', it surprised his friends that he
should appear as defeudant in the case
of Dublin versus Topp; suit for breach
of promise. But the Circuit Court
docket of Crittenden county disclosed
the fact of the suit, nnd the affidavit of
Mrs. Malinda Dublin set forth the par
ticulars.
The plaintiff had been put upon the
stand to tell how wickedly she had
been loci into false hopes by this middle
aged bachelor.
“ I live at home with my old dad,”
she said, “ and this feller kept coinin’
’round thar inakin’ believe he wanted
to trade mules. After he traded a time
or two till that waA played out, he coftie
wanting cotton seed. I knowcdhcOnly
wanted an excuse to get to sec me, and
I told I’ap wheu lie come again to bring
him in and see whether he’d talk turkey
or not if he had a fair chance. And
that was just what he wanted. You
never seed a man set up to a woman
pearter than he did as soon as ever Pap
introduced us, tcllin’ him,‘That is my
darter. Malinda.” lie was powerful
shy nt the offset; but let him git fairly
started on mules or shoates, and he was
dead sure to end with sparkin’. And it
appeared like lie couldn’t wait more’ll a
minit for a woman to say yes. I didn’t
fool with themunas lot’s do, but 1 said
yes ; and about the next thing that hap
pened he was tryin’ to crawfish. That’s
But her lawj'er did not think it was
the whole story, and he was right—there
wns more to be told.
“ Will you state to the jury how it
happened that the defendant, Topp,
went hack on his word after he had ask
ed you to marry him?”
“ Well, as 1 said before, lie was the
most uneasy man until he got his answer,
which was yes. The Fourth of July, 1
allowed would he soon enough for tho
wedding-day, butheknowed he couldn’t
wait till then—it was impossible. I told
him to call Pap in and talk it over. I
Went over to the kitchen to get up a
square meal, and show the man I could
do the tallest cooking in Arkansaw,
when I let myself out for it in dead ear
nest.”
“ And what happened when your fa
ther and the defendant, Topp, talked it
over?”
“ Before I left ’em I told I’ap the
man was on the marry, aud I rcckined
it was all right.
Pup lowed they’d best have something
to take. I set out the, whisky nnd sugar,
and told them thar was cookin’ to do ;
if they preferred mint in theirs they
knowed jist where to git it. When I
came hack I saw things was wrong.
The first thing the man said, and he was
lookin’ sober'n a funeral, was : ‘Curnel,
Dublin, I allowed your gal Malinda,
was a single gal till this minit. Is sho
single, or is she ever been married be
fore?’ And Pap he told the truth, look
in’ him plumb in the eye: “She’sbeen
married onct, but —only a little—only
a little.’ And I said : * That’s so ; he’s
talkin’ the Gospel facts—-only a little.’
The man lit out then mighty suddent;
and me and Pap thinks if there’s any
law in Arkansaw he orter pay.”
The defendant urged that he didn’t
want a wife who had been married ever
so little. He thought he had been de
ceived. The jury saw it differently. A
little married didn’t count in Arkansaw
—he must pay; and he did pay.
“ Anj'thing new or fresh this morn
ing ?” a reporter asked at a railroad
office.
“ Yes,” replied the lone occupant of
of the apartment.
“ What is it ?” queried the reporter,
whipping out his note-book.
Said the railroad man, edging toward
the door, “ That paint you are leaning;
against.”
Such are the loads a newspaper xamm
I must bear.—A'* oknk <