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The Visit of an Angel.
A STORY OF C HRISTMAS EYE.
BY WILLIAM H. BI'SHNELL.
“ It is cold enough to freeze the heart
out of a miser and make the white bear
dance for joy,” grumbled Tom Orton,
as he looked out of the window upon
the snow-coverod streets. “ Ilow I wish
I could stay at home to-night and take
care of you and the babies, Jenny.
And I would only for—”
lie thought of how much poverty
was pinching them, and would not sad
den the hearts of those he loved by
mentioning it.
“ Only for what, Tom ?” asked his
wife from the bed, where, ill herself,
she was taking care of their two sick
children.
“ Only that they’ll be wanting me,”
he replied. “ You know it is Christ
mas eve, and we’ve gotten up an extra
entertainment.”
“ Yes, Tom, and a sorry day for us,
now that I am sick, and the children
■wanting medicine and—” she would
have said “ food,” but could not bear
to add a feather’s weight to his load—
■“ and so much depends upon you.”
I know,” he replied, hastily brush
ing the moisture from his eyes and
striving to conceal his anxiety ; “ but
I" am well and strong, Jenny, and the
winter is nearly over and you'll all be
well again.”
“ But if anything should happen to
you ?” she questioned, with a heavy
sigh.
“ Don't think there is much danger,”
be said, repressing a sob as he thought
of how desperate would be their situa
tion—of the rent due, the scanty store
of provisions, the little of fuel remain
ing, the more-than month of hard win
ter yet before them, the needs of a
family that a poor man learns by tiie
lost bitter of experience.
“ But there is, dear Tom. No one is
ever safe living the life, you do. There
ire so many chances for accident.”
“ Don’t fear, I'll take care of myself
—won’t run any extra risk, and, as I
have nothing to do in the latter part,
will be home early.”
He stepped to the bedside, drew the
cover more closely about \iis wife and
children, kissed them, put more coal in
the stove, though every lump was as a
golden ducat to a Shylock in his then
situation, attended to everything possi
ble for their comfort, and prepared to
face the cold and go to his nightly em
ployment. Yet an uncommon spell
seemed to chain him. He lingered,
fidgeted, glanced uneasily at the clock.
“ Isn’t it time you were off, Tom ?’
questioned his wife. “ You know it is
quite a walk.”
“ Yes, Jenny, but somehow I don’t
feel like leaving you alone.”
“ Oh, I am used to staying alone.”
So she was, poor thing! “ And you
said, you would be home early.”
“ Yes, yes.”
An active, sober man was he, and a
skilled performer. He had been trained
to the profession from childhood —knew
no other, and, under ordinary circum
stances, could easily “ keep his head
above water.” But the “ tenting sea
son ” had closed exceptionally early,
the winter was hard, money was “tight,”
and every place of amusement suffered
in consequence. To these things were
added sickness, and brave-hearted as he
was he could not suppress a shiver of
anxiety as the future stared him in the
face.
He passed along the narrow street
through more pretentious ones—passed
the houses of millionaires and entered
Broadway. That, at least, was brilliant
and gay, as if there was nothing of
.poverty or human suffering in the world,
'as if none in the great city were famil
iar with hunger, and cold, and sickness
—-as if there never was to be any
awakening from a golden dream of lux
ury and pleasure.
“Ah ! thoughtless wealth and fash
ion,” l> e murmured, bitterly, as he saw
fur-clad forms, and pampered steeds,
and richly-mounted harness, and gilded
sleighs, and costly robes dash along,
I*,*- much ye will have to answer for
in the day of final reckoning, for neg
lecting your poor, toiling, suffering
brother* and sisters.”
s But no time bad he to linger—the
clock in a window told him that, and,
with a sigh that his wife and little ones
should not have their quota of the good
things of this world, he passed on.
Suddenly a confused cry—a wild tu
mult —the drawing away of teams upon
either side, or dashing into cross streets
—startled him, and he knew something
unusual was taking place. Then came
the shout of “runaway! runaway 1”
VOL. Ill—NO. 18.
and he felt that life or property, or
both, were being whirled on to destruc
tion.
“ Are j’ou mad ? Do you want to be
killed ?” hurriedly asked many, as they
ran to places of safety, and he remain
ed standing upon the curb-stone.
He gave no heed to the warning. lie
had braved death far too often to shrink
from it in any event, and most certain
ly when at such a distance. His eves
wore fixed up the street upon a team of
noble bays that were tearing along,
mad witli fright, and surging the sleigh
from side to side—were running at their
utmost speed, each striving to outdo
the other, straining every nerve—were
running away driverless. Had that
been all he would not have troubled
f ,
himself, deep as was his affection lor
blooded steeds, for he was not at the
moment particularly in sympathy with
wealth. It was quite another matter
that chained him.
At the first outcry he had sprung to
and half climbed a lamp-post, and so
obtained a clearer view—one that
thrilled his heart to the very core,
caused his breath to be more deeply
drawn and his pulse to momentarily
cease to beat.
In the sleigh was a young and beau
tiful woman, pale with terror, and clasp
ing two lovely children to her breast.
Orton thought of his Jenny and their
little ones, and resolved to save. The
impulse was noble, but how was it to
be accomplished ?
Far beyond any human control were
the frantic horses. To attempt to seize
the reins as they dashed past, and to
stop them, would be madness—would
be to be dragged down and trampled to
death. He saw this —saw that the
course of the horses would bring them
directly upon him, and, though the
crowd furiously warned him back and
warned him of his danger, he stirred
not—only* braced muscles and nerves
and set his teeth with determination.
“ My God !” exclaimed a man, who,
bolder than the rest, sprung forward,
grappled and would have drawn him
away. “ You will be killed ! instantly
killed !”
Tom Orton shook himself off just as
the horses reached him, watched his
opportunity, seized upon the harness as
they- were sweeping past, sprung lightly
upon the, back of the nearest, grasped
the reins, and, turning to the affrighted
women and screaming children shouted :
“ Keep quiet. I will save you.”
And save them he did. Before a
block had been traversed the horses
had been made to realize that he was
their master, and the sharp curb cutting
deeply into their mouths brought them
to a stand-still.
The crowd cheered lustily-—the po
lice assisted the woman and children
out and carried them into a neighboring
store, and, as soon as the former had in
a measure recovered her senses, she
asked for her preserver, that she might
thank and reward him. But he was
not to be found. All that could be
learned was, that as soon as the tremb
ling steeds had been taken charge of by
others lie had disappeared.
“ Who could he have been ?” ques
tioned the lady, with still ghastly face
and bloodless lips.
“ Can’t say,” answered a policeman,
constituting himself a spokesman;
“ but he was a brave fellow, anyhow.
1 wouldn’t have taken the risk he did
for thousands.”
“ A brave fellow, indeed,” was the
response, “ and I would have’given very
much to know his name and where he
is to be found.”
So would the policeman, that some
thing of the glory might attach to him
self. But the lady departed homeward
without obtaining the desired informa
tion, and the sensitiveness of Tom
Orton caused him to lose the one op
portunity of his life to have risen above
iron-handed poverty.
Meanwhile he was hurrying to busi
ness. More time had been occupied in
the rescue tlnm he thought possible,
and though apptause was dear to him
—as to all—yet he could not stay to
listen, and, as for risking his life for
money, he had not even dreamed of
such a thing.
Out of breath, he dashed into the
dressing-room, and was received with re
HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY. DECEMBER 25, 1878.
proof for being late.
“Couldu’t help it,” he replied; “I
saw a pair of fiery horses runuiug away
with a sleigh and a woman and two chil
dren—thought of my Jenuy and the
children, and had to stop nud save them.”
lie told the story very briefly and
modestly while getting ready—didn’t
seem to fancy he had done anything
w onderful, and soon was dashing around
! the arena upou a spirited steed, “ witch
ing the world with wouderous horseman
! ship.”
The audience applauded to the echo,
and, carried away by the excitement, he
rashly determined to execute his most
daring acts —those given only on the
greatest occasions, forgetting that the
j horse he rode bail not been trained to
i them —was young and wild.
The result was soon painfully nppar
| ent. Though some were accomplished
in safety, yet when he attempted leap
| iug over a baimer the fluttering fright
ened the horse, he bolted suddenly, and
Tom Orton was hurled suddenly to the
ground.
He endeavored to rise and make light
j of pain, but a strange sickness came over
him, the lights flickered and grew dim,
] he gasped for air, and knew nothing
more until somewhat revived in the
dressing-room he heard familiar voices.
‘‘Oh God ! w hat will become of Jenny
and the babies?” he gasped faintly. “ I
amd one for, and—aud—” his tears and
sobs choked him.
“Don’t fear for them, Tom,” said a
dozen hearty voices, and as many grasp
ed his hands as could obtain hold, “ we’ll
see that you are taken care of.”
Many senselessly aud causelessly con
demn the ring and the stage, but iu the
law of want and suffering their hearts
shine upon the surface, and such charity
is shown that none upon earth is bright
er. Ah! if all of humanity was as
| true as the brother and sisterhood whose
lives are given for the amusement and
instruction of others, there would be far
less of trial and suffering in the world.
It is a charity that lasts beyond even the
sad scenes at the “Little Church Around
the Corner,” and is blessed by widow
and orphan.
“Thanks, thanks,” murmured the in
jured man. “ But tell me the worst.”
“ A broken leg is all that appears se
rious,” answered the gray-headed man
—a strange physician who had been
summoned. “Though I cannot account
for the marks upon your other side, my
man.”
“ Probably he hurt himself when he
stopped the runaway horses,” was sug
i gested and the story told.
“ Humph ! Avery dangerous busi
ness—next to foolhardy ; not one in ten
thousand would have escaped alive,” re
plied the physician, with pursed lips and
flashing eyes. “ Well, all that can be
done now is to get him home. Then I
will make a more minute examination.”
Very tenderly was the noble-hearted
fellow taken to his humble abode, and
the scene, when he was laid upou the
bed, side by side with his sick wife and
children, caused every eye to overflow
with tears.
‘ ‘ Tom, dear Tom,” said Jenny, as well
as she could for her painful sobbings,
| “ what w ill become of us—of the chil
dren? We shall all starve aud die to
gether.”
‘‘Not while we have hands,” replied
his associates, and every heart was touch
ed and every arm nerved to do the ut
most toward relief.
They all looked around anxiously for
the physician—had supposed he had ac
companied them. But he was not to be
seen, and then - grumbling became loud
and deep.
“ I can bear anything,” said Tom,
“but for you, Jenny and the children,”
and he entirely broke down.
“And I could curse that doctor for
an unfeeling wretch,” blurted out one
of the passionate. “ But it is ever thus.
We give our lives freely to please the
public, aud when anything happens they
care nothing for us.”
Tom Orton groaned heavily. The
sound awoke his little girl. She raised
up in bed, strained her eyes, clapped
her tiny hands and shouted in true
childish glee aud wonder:
“ Mama ! Papa! See —an angel!”
All eyes were turned in the direction
she pointed, and in the doorway stood a
beautiful woman, leaning upon the arm
of the physician !
Yes, an angel had come to them.
Tom Orton had risked his life to save
that of the daughter of Dr. Armitage
and his grandchildren, aud the merest
chance had given them the knowledge
w ho it was.
But never was an equestrian feat bet
ter rewarded, and never a more charita
ble angel appeared upou earth even up
on the day when alike from hill-top and
valley is proclaimed: “ Peace upon
earth and good w ill to men.”
OUR WASHINGTON LETTER.
Washington, D. C., Dec. 12, 1878.
If Senator Blaine shnll succeed to
day in interesting Congress in what he
calls intimidation in the South, his
speech will have wide circulation and
may cause the Radical nomination to
be made and the Radical fight to be
fought, in 1880, on the “bloody shirt”
idea. The Senator's resolution, to
which he will speak, authorizes inquiry
by a Committee of the Senate into the
question of intimidation at elections in
the South. Unquestionably it will be
amended so as to extend the inquiry,
and so as to authorize a special com
mittee, instead of the Judiciary Com
mitte*.-, to perform the work. As I said
in a former letter. Senators Sherman
and Gordon, and periiaps others, will
speak on the Democratic side. Sena
tor Blaine has much at stake, as he has
steadily lost prestige with his party'
since September, and others, including
Colliding, have as steadily gained of
late. Senator Blaine may be relied
upon to do his best. The debate will
be able and memorable. I hope it will
be the last ever precipitated upon Con
gress upon the disquieting questions
growing out of the war between the
States.
Tb>. House yesterday passed two
more appropriation bills—the consular
and diplomatic, and the naval. They
are substantially the same as last year
in amount and otherwise. Thus early
in the second week of the session, four
appropriation bills have been passed.
It begins to be said that there will be
trouble in the House when the legisla
tive, executive and judicial appropria
tion bill comes up. In this bill there
will be an attempt to provide payment
for the special election officers appoint
ed by the Attorney-General, and to
cover other unnecessary and illcgiti.
mate expenses. The bill will not be
reported until after the holidays.
It is evident that Senator Conkling
has not lately “ let himself out ” us
freely as he was in the habit of doing
a year or so ago. Some of his friends
are confident that he will oppose con
firmation of the New York Custom
House nominees of Mr. Hayes, and
others equally confident that he will
not.
In the Senate Mr. Morgan of Ala
bama yesterday ably and earnestly sup
ported the bill of Mr. Edmunds pre
scribing a method of counting the votes
for President, Mr. Jones, of Florida,
briefly opposed the bill, and was replied
to by Mr. Edmunds. This bill, favora
bly received at first, is gaining friends
in both parties. It will probably pass
the Senate.
Among the investigations going on
is one into the question whether or not
certain Representatives reoeived money
for their votes in June last on a bill
giving Government countenance to the
District 3.05 bonds. These bonds
were authorized by Congress to fund an
an indebtededness of thirteen or fifteen
million of dollars incurred without au
thority of law by certain U. S. officers
who governed the District from 1871 to
1874. The question whether or not
the District should not be taxed for
them does not enter into the investiga
tion. The charge is that a financial in
stitution which controlled most of the
bonds, and which expected to make a
million or so by the legislation in ques
tion. bribed members of Congress.
Two or three members of the House,
and Senator Ingalls of the Senate Dis
trict Committee, have been most
spoken of in this connection. The
money is not said to have been paid
directly, but the benefit of the antici
pated rise in value of a certain amount
WHOLE NO. 122.
of lionds is said to have been guarnn
teed in eacli ense. Rex.
He Took Notes of It.
The Watchman tells this sermon-steal
ing story of a young man who stood be
fore a presbytery in Scotland nsking
ordination. Principal Robinson was
moderator. The young man wus rigid
ly examined, and asked to preach. The
examination and sermon were both satis
factory. The candidate retired, and the
moderater said : “ I felt compelled to
say that the sermon which the young
man has preached is not his own. It is
taken from an old volume of sermons,
long out of print. Where he found it I
do not know. I supposed the only copy
of the volume to he found was in my
library, and the candidate has had no
access to that,” The young man was
called in and asked if the sermon he had
preached was his own. “ No,” he frank
ly said. “ I was pressed for time, and
could, not make a sermon in season.
The sermon I preached was ouc which
I heard Principal Robinson preach some
time ago. I took notes of it, and liked
it so well that I wrote it out from mem
ory and have preached it to-day.”
Nothing was said ; nothing could be
said.
He Long-ed to be at Rest.
A New Bedford clerk, demoralized
by a prolonged spree, appeared before
his employer the other day and persis
tently pleaded on his knees to be shot,
offering to sign his death warrant. His
brother clerks, seeing an opportunity
for n practical joke, solemnly prepared
for his execution, the w arrant was drawn
up aud signed, and the victim, kneeling
before the executioner, who drew a re
volver, was ordered to close his eyes,
while someone placed a lighted fire
cracker behind hint. With the explo
sion, however, the fellow lost all desire
to die, and dashed out of the store with
a howl, fully persuaded that his hour
had come.
The New York Herald , in a long ar
ticle on “ Southern Industry, Crops,
Trade and Business Prospects,” augurs
very hopefully of the futureof this sec
tion, and especially of Georgia, which
it characterizes as “ the pattern State
of the South in enterprise and improve
ment.” It says: “ Georgia was the
first to emancipate herself from carpet
bag rule, and she enjoys great advant
ages of position. All the railroads
which connect the Mississippi valley
with the Southern Atlantic coast meet
at Atlanta, a point in her territory. Her
navigable rivers and enterprising cities
favor the development of her resources.
She is opening new railroads, and the
stock of some of her old ones is ad
vancing prodigiously in price. She is
purchasing expensive ocean steamers,
and within a year five hundred thou
sand dollars of new capital has been
invested in new cotton factories. She
is setting an example which the neigh
boring States are following with vary
ing degrees of success, and on the gen
eral revival of prosperity throughout
the country the Southern States are
likely to enjoy their full proportionate
share.
The colored engineer of a train in
Georgia, a few weeks ago, saw a cow
oh the track a few hundred yards down
the line, whereupon he skipped the
train, got out with a shovel iu his hand,
and, striking the beast on the back,
yelled: “Git off dar, d’ye hear; git off
or I’ll squirt steam all over yer !” The
cow withdrew.
Sorrows, like the age of a woman,
grow less and less every time they are
told.
“ Into the chaws of death,” said the
man who fell among the teeth of a buzz
saw.
One-half of the misery of human life
comes from the imagination, and one
half of the other half may be evercome
by a strong will, and the whole of it by
faith.
A little boy was shown the picture of
the martyrs thrown into the lion’s den.
He startled his friends bv shouting:
“Mi ! oh, ma ! Just look at that poor
little lion ’way behind there. He won’t
get any !”
Christmas is hera.
AN ATHENIAN IN AIDILEMMA.
Some years ago, during’[a business
tour uudertakeu by two gentlemen of
our place, an incident occurred.which to
one of them at least, seems to be a source
of perpetual amusement. The mere
mention of that trip will wreathe his
face in smiles, and the incident is relat
ed with great gusto every time. Espe
cially is this done if his companiott-du
voyage happens to be present. The lat
ter has requested the presiding geuiusof
the “ Chronicle Spice-Box” to publish
(he incident, and thus save his frieud
from repeating it—it is becoming n little
monotonous.
Just in the face of a storm, they over
took two wotneu driving a steer —before
them was a considerable stream, quite
swollen by the recent rains. (Bro. Ben
son, of the Hurtwell Sun, a well-deserv
ed name, will please make a note, as it
happened within a few miles of his
charming villugc.) The women were
mounted on a dry goods box in the cart,
but the steer seemed to have very seri
ous objections to crossing. The women
were timid, and a little doubtful about
urging their “critter" across the water.
One of the gentlemen seeing the dif
ficulty, proposed to relieve them by
driving the steer himself. Leaping from
his vehicle, he approached the cart, and,
iu his blandest tones, inquired the cause
of their difficulty, and offered his assis
tance.
The senior said, “ I’m much obliged
tovou, mister; the critter is sorter un
ruly anyhow, and I’m most afraid to
drive hit across, but you’uns kin do it,
I reckon.”
Out jumped the women, and in jump
ed the impromptu Jehu. With a most
lamentable figure, at the crack of th<i
whip, he drove towards the stream.
Very near the water, with the swollen
tide in front, it occurred to him that
the steer might take it into his head to
leave the road and go on a voyage of
discovery down streom. In that case,
what should he do? He had heard of
“Gee” and “Haw” as the directing
power in driving oxen, but he might say
“ Gee,” when “ Haw ” was needed —or
vice verm— and secure thereby a duck
ing, if no worse. Here was a dilemma.
No one likes to acknowledge ignorance,
init this was a time when it would not
do to stand on ceremony.
“ Hello," said the driver, “ will you
ladies tell mo whether to say * Gee ’ or
‘ Haw,” w hen I w ant to go to the right?”
The water looked very deep and
dark ns it eddyed to his right. The
fact is, he did not want to go there, al
though he asked the question. A look
of blank wonder overspread the faces of
both femnles, ns the elder said :
“ Why, did you never drive a steer
before?”
The driver replied: “Never didin
my life.”
The look of blank amazement deep
ened on their faces, and the younger ono
screamed out: “ Never driv a steer!
Fur the Lord's suke, Mister, uhur tea s
you raised ?”
The needed information was given,
but far above that sound and the rush
of waters, was heard the teuor laugh of
the gentleman who, sitting in his own
vehicle, enjoyed the scene and discom
fiture of his companion.
It does not become this chronicler to
tell of the rocky passage of that stream.
It was a picture that words can not des
cribe. As to his feelings, no pen but
his ow n could tell us, and that we know
will be silent. —Athens Chronicle.
A few days after the above occur
rence, we passed over the same stream,
and on tother side, suw wlmt we never
saw before. It was a plow doing good
work without the aid of man, horse,
mule, donkey or ox. Well, it was a
woman plowing a big speckled bull.
As for the “ defective education,"
we will say that some of the greatest
men Georgia has ever produced had just
such mothers as those driving that steer,
and we feel proud of ihem. A large
proportion of the men who bore tlm
heat and did the fightiug during the late
unpleasantness, had just such mothers,
and the sons are the bone and sinew of
this great Republic. Of course tho
splinter-shanked town fellows have their
mission to fill, ns our well-developed,
healthy countrymen would smother to
death behind the counter. This country
is getting too highly educated and re
fined ; the editors of this paper won’t
print half the articles we write; say
they are too rough, and that our people
arc too refined for such.
“Old B.”
“ Ah," sighed a hungry tramp, “ I
wish I was a boss. He most always
has a bit in his mouth, while I haven’t
bad a bit in mine for two days.”