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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.”