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■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. ■ ■o was ■ I ;■ |i|. [Lit sale ■AIn ml ■u ■ SI1 " W ■ - Hod on Huh K- h , Hiy his I VV: '- V 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 <