Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

THE BOUND GIRL. Locust Heights was one of the loveli est homesteads in the county of . Its owuer was wealthy, influential, and considered a man of honor and a gentle, generous, charitable gentleman. lit was about thirty years of age and un married, a fact well kuowu to all tin anxious mothers with a surplus of mar riageable daughters ou hand. But Gil- bert Pierson gave mothers aud daughter a wide berth, for he had no desire to marry. When he found his ideal, Lo cust Heights would have a mistress, not before, he said, never thinking that tin woman that would open the gates ot Paradise for him was even then in the sound of his voice. Xo, Jack,” Gilbert Pierson was say ing iu a dreamy sort of way, “I havt never yet seen the woman I could mnki my wife.” Jack Delaney laughed merrily as lit mounted his hoise to ride away- He had been making a morning call at the Heights, and as usual, brought up the question of his friend’s marriage, for Jack was a happy beuedict, and anxi ous to see his friend settled. “ Well I hope you’ll meet your fate some day, and when you do meet l.e let nothing stand iu your way.” ‘‘No fear for that, Jack,” replied Pierson, who knew what his friend hint ed at; “ riches or poverty —it will be all the same to me.” Jack rode off, and Gilbert turned to retrace his steps to the house. A hand some drive, cool aud shaded, led up to the mansion, whose vine-wreathed porti cos and long windows, around which roses were trained with artistic taste, were flooded with the bright August sunshine, and broad patches of gold lay on the velvety lawn, where a few tame deer were lying. Iu one of those same golden patches, and not ten rods from where Pierson was lounging, stood a woman, her dark, beautiful Gypsy face upturned to the summer sky, and a mass of black satin-like hair falling about her shoulders. Her dress was some bright cheap material, hut fitted her to perfection, and the hand that clasped the rim of a jaunty straw hat was as brown as a berry. She seemed to be lost in deep thought, for the very eyes seemed to be drinking in the beauty of the scene around her. Gilbert Pierson was struck with amazement. lie had never met her in the neighborhood, and walked up to her with a puzzled expres sion on his countenance. “Can I do any tiling for you, Miss—?” he said, as she turned to him with a startled look on her bright face. The voice that answered him was as sweet and clear as silver hells. “ I have lost my way, sir. Wish to get home —to Mrs. Patterson’s, if you please.” “To Mrs. Patterson’s?” echoed Mr. Pierson, as the blushing face crimson ed still deeper beneath his ardent gaze. “ Why, you are a good two miles from there.” “ Oh, dear,” exclaimed the girl with a weary sigh. “ then I won’t have the ber ries home in time for dinner.” She glanced down at the tin pail standing at her feet, and Pierson saw it was not half full of berries. “ Berry seeking, ch” smiled Pierson "I never knew Mrs. Patterson owned such a charming daughter.” “ Daughter!” she echoed with a mer ry laugh ; “I am the bound girl—free in one mouth. Mrs. Patterson s dainty daughters do not wade through wet grass and I r iniblts after berries. But please tell met the shortest route home; Mrs. Patterson will be angry at my delay. “ Mr. Pierson stepped aside and spoke to a servant who was passing. “ Come, now,” he said laughingly, “as you are a neighbor, I must use you neighborly. While Seth is filling your pail with fruit from my garden, I will order a lunch and see that you get home in time for dinner.” “Oh, Mr. Pierson, you are too kind ; no one is ever kind to Marah Gray,” she says, with a bright smile ; although her dark eyes are full of tears. And they walk side by side up the cool ave nue. the young bound girl talking with the grace and ease of a thorough woman of the world and Mr, Pierson stammer ing bewildered answers in a manner to tally unlike his usual genial frankness. But his momentary diffidence soon van ished as they became better acquainted over the delicate lunch the servants pro vided. He found, by a few cautious questions, that Marah Gray was an or phan and very unhappy in the house of Mrs. Patterson, who had two daughters of her own—vain, homely girls—who envied the poor bound girl her beauty and kept her in the background. He found her intelligent, and was astonished The Hartwell Sun. By BENSON & McGILL. .'Ol. IV—NO. 11. at the shrewdness of her remarks, while ais heart ached at her pathetic stories of ger child-life. “ What a beautiful home,” she said as they stood together on the portico. “ I think you must be happy.” She lifted her shy, dark eyes to the jrave, gentle face of the man before her. The tender light of some newly-awaken ■d feeling was in their depths, and Gil bert Pierson’s heart gave a great throb is he thought of the possibility of hav ing the girl's face always at his fireside. “ lain not so very happy. Riches do not always bring happiness you know,” he said with a smile. “ And I know,” she replied, “ some people have everything their heart de sires, hut coutentment. I hope I shall never be among the number.” “ Yet you are not content,” he says wistfully. ‘‘Not very; hut still lam thankful for the few blessings showered upon me, one of which is your kindness this morn ing,” she laughs, as she trips down the steps and takes her seat iu the wagonette Seth had driven round. “ What splendid berries !” she ex claims, as Mr. Pierson takes his seat by her side. She felt confused and shy, for she expected Seth to drive her home, and tried to hide her confusion in exam ining the berries. “ Mrs. Patterson will be delighted.” “ I hope so, for I intend to ask a favor of her.” Marah Grey's cheeks were like roses, and her eyes glowed like stars as they drove home under the tall maples, for some strange, deep happiness had crept into her lonely heart. Her life had been so joyless that Mr. Pierson’s gently proffered kindness seemed but a glimpse into another world. Summers might bloom and fade, winters come and go with chilling blasts and cheerless rain, but the glory of that summer day would never grow dim. The crimson poppies that edged the corn flushed a deeper red as the sunlight touched their silken leaves, wild roses nodded gaily as the girl’s lovely eyes fell on them, an 1 the bird’s in the green boughs over head broke into blithe snatches of song, as if they would re-echo the gladness in the young girl’s fresh, sweet voice. “ I can never thank you too much,” she says with a smile and a blush, as Mr. Pierson set her down at Mrs. Patter son’s door. “ I will call to-morrow and ask Mrs. Patterson’s permission to call on you. May I?” he laughs merrily. “Oh—” with a little shrug of horror, “ you must not; Mrs. Patterson would not like it.” “ We shall see.” And he did see. Mrs. Patterson was politeness itself until Marah Grey’s name was mentioned. After that ice itself could not have been colder. She could not understand how a man in Gilbert Pierson’s position could stoop to associ ate with a bound girl. But she was too wise to risk her reputation by refusing her permission, and Marah was sent into the parlor becomingly dressed, to the chagrin of Mrs. Patterson’s who had often tried to attract the atten tion of the bachelor master of Locust Heights. Marah Grey’s bondage was drawing to a close. In two days she would be free —free to go where she pleased; yet, strange as it may appear, somethingakin to fear lent a saddened expression to her bright face as Gilbert Pierson stood by her side in Mrs. Patterson’s elegant par lor. “ I have not had a happy home here,” she says, in a low voice, “ but in two I days I will be homeless.” “ Does Mr3. Patterson refuse to retain you in her service?” “She says I cannot stay one hour over my time.” Marah’s eyes fill with tears, for Gil bert Pierson’s friendship had cost her many a frown. Marah ” —bis face is very close to j iers —“ have you been blind? Do you 1 not know that I would not have sought your society unless I loved you, for I think I have loved you since the first moment I met you. Oh, my little home less one, let me give you my love and protection for life.” Marah’s head drooped lower and her HARTWELL, GA„ WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 12. 1879. lips murmured si me faint protest against his marrying a hound girl. “ Bound or free, you are mine.” And he read the answer in the dark eyes as he kissed the upturned face. Mrs. Patterson was shocked. But Gilbert Pierson had his way, and car ried Miss Grey off to the Delaney’s, who were delighted with the bride-elect. In one month they were married, Jack De laney giving away the bride. What Is Castile Soap { A subscriber wishes to know how this differs from other soap. The hard soaps made in this country are almost exclusively from animal fats; in the south of Europe, where the olive grows abundantly, the poorer kinds of olive oil are used for soap-making. Common soaps are soda and animal fat, Castile soap is soda and vegetable oil. In making Castile soap, great care is taken to avoid an excess of all alkali (the soda), only just enough being used to neutralize the oil. On this account the soap is much milder, and may be used on wounds and other surfaces where common soap would irritate and give pain. The mottled appearance of Cas tile soap is due to a small quantity of solution of copperas (sulphate of iron) which is stirred into it before it hard ens ; this leaves a bluish oxide of iron in the soap which, when exposed to the air, becomes changed to the red-oxide. White Castile soap is also sold, which is the same as the other, without the coloring. Though called Castile, it is by no means exclusively made in Spain, the largest share coming from the south of France, and indeed it is generally known in Europe as Mar seilles soap. Derivation of “ Yankee.” The term “ Yankee ” is a modifica tion of the French term Anglais, mean ing English. It is stated that the Eng lish settlements were called by the ab origines Ingese or Yengese, and in af ter years, especially during the strug gle between the colonists and the moth er country, Yengese became modified into “ Yankee,” and was used by the British soldiery as an opprobrious epi thet. According to Thiery, “ Yankee” is a corruption of Yankin, diminutive of John, a nickname given to the Eng lish colonists in Connecticut by the Dutch settlers in New York. Dr. Gor don, in his “ History of the American War,” says it was a cant word in Cam bridge, Mass., as early as 1713, and that it means excellent—as a yankee good horse, or j’ankee good cider. He supposes that it was adopted by the students as a by-word, and being car ried by them from the college obtained currencj’ in other colonies, and so was subsequently applied to the New Eng landers. Jury Exemptions. According to the recent act of the General Assembly, the following are the exemptions from all jury duty, civil and criminal under the new law: All ministers of the Gospel engaged regu larly in discharging ministerial duties; all physicians and apothecaries in the practice of their profession; school teachers engaged in teaching school; millers and ferrymen engaged in their occupation; all railroad employees, whom the superintendent of a railroad shall certify to the Judge are necessary and are actually engaged in the work of running railroad trains; all male persons over sixty years old ; all tele graph operators, and officers and mem bers of each fire company in this State to the number of twenty-five, doing ac tive duty, as firemen, whose names shall be filed in the office of the Clerk of the Superior Court, by the secretary of such company, on or before the first day of January of each year. The gentlemen at a dinner table were discussing the familiar line : “ An honest man’s the noblest work of God,” when the little son of the host spoke up and said, “ It’s not true. My mo ther’s better than any man that was ever made.” The next session of the North Geor gia Annual Conference will convene at Augusta, on Wednesday before the Ist Sunday in December next, Bishop G. Pierce presiding. Devoted to Hart County. Wi ll NANCY irAKT. UY Till! HWEKT II.MIKM OK BOWKKBVILLK. W nttm fur Thr Hartwell Sun. Time linn rollwi the season around, When in our midst wo hear the sound Of her, who is most beautiftil and smart, W'hoae name we call Our Nancy llart. liehold her as she rolls away ; Uer dreas how trim, how neat, how gay; The boys all come to ace her start; tier name is called, Our Nancy Hart. The Conductor is as white as Snow The Engineer—him we all do know. Who would fail to take a part In enjoying a trip with Our Nancy nart t Train bands all kind and polite, Among them none ever te be found tight. If any do wish to ride with a dart, Come go down with Our Nancy Hart. Some say that Nancy cannot draft— Dare you to say before Capt. Craft ? To see w hat is done by science and art , Is to come aud look at Otir Nancy Hart. Among the boys who are so merry, None seem to be more ao than our Berry ; On tatde he'll fix plum pudding and tart, Whon rolls into Hartwell Our Nancy Hart. Some so glad they seem almost silly, Among such is found our Uncle Billy ; But we’ll excuse him, w hen we think what a part He lias always taken for Our Nancy Hart. All in the country seem to be delighted— In praising our engine, how they are united. The hotel-keepers, Marion and Bart, How it does tickle them to see Our Nancy Hart. Many iu Hartwell, I guess, will rejoice When iu her streets they hear Nancy's voice; You'll hear such a tooting wherever thou art— The boys all mimicking Our Nancy Hart. We admit little Nancy is very small. Yet the work of our county, she’ll do it all. Yea, even from Elbert cotton will start To get aboard the train of Our Nancy Hart. Yea, a many a bale she'll make quiver Brought to her from far, far over the river. Cotton shipped over Elberton R. R. in part Will be furnished it by Our Nancy Hart. Sonic people can't be beaten by the Jews— For instance look at the Toeeoa News. Look out, friend Schaefer, for a fiery dart, Hurled fruiu the battery of Ou> Nancy nart. NANCY MS** IN THE SPIRIT OF 1779. My rrotto is meekness, submission and mild, But when provoked I am as a lion that's wild. I feci .some emotion now at this time, Causing me to forjret my verses’ rhyme. Be ye all informed, by reading my stories. What w as the fate of seven impudent tories, Who when captured were leprous as Xauman, Then on the post-oak hanged high as was Hainan. If then, when much weaker than now, I could make seven cruel monsters to bow, Why any now dare engage iue in strife ! I tell yon, sirs, it’s at the risk of your life. I’ve heard enough of your multiplied clash, Which amounts to nothing but the lightest of trash. Talk about bucket ami armful of wood, To supply me sufficiently as an article of food! From Bowersville down, drank every well dry which to the road is anyways nigh. If Uncle Billy don’t hurry up his tank, lain sure I will suffer for something to drink. Some think I am a singular being— If I am cross-eyed, don’t binder from seeing. When I get to Hartwell, our beautiful town, Then with gladness I’ll look all around— My eyes shall be turned in every direction To give my new situation impartial Inspection. My motto will be to know no lK>uiid, But to servo in the interest of all that’s around. I'll look to the east and west, to the north and south, And help to make good the effects of the drouth. I will gaze on Atlanta, with Charlotte in view, And to every appended interest I will prove true. I ll look to Toccoa’s mountains and Klberton's plains, And the mid country plowed by narrow-gauge trains, My purpose shall be, by day and by night, To promote every interest with all of my might. When I bear the shrill notes of John Henry Jones, I'll promptly reply in softest of tones. If my policy John Henry doth fancy, He is made welcome to come to see Nancy. By many in this section it often is said, John Henry and I ought to be wed. In regard to that I have this much to say, If our feelings are mutual, t hen well we may; If it should prove not to be so, I will beg to be excused while I'd say no; But if he my regard doth reciprocate, Then well wc may be joined in a wedded state. Then in all business of transportation life, I’ll confess inyself his legally wedded commercial wife. Then our banner will be ever unfurled, The motto of which—“ The Good of the World.” OUK NANCY. King Solomon, founder of Masonry, instituted a law by which no candidate was permitted to electioneer for official preferment, and that law bolds good with the fraternity until this day. At the present time the exact reverse is the rule. Query : Is the average office seeking public of to-day wise, or was King Solomon a fool ? President Hayes has issued a proc lamation appointing Thursday, the 27th inst., as a day of national thanksgiving and prayer. $1.50 Per Annum. Mistaken Identity. I Burlington Hawkey*. The other day an omuibus full of passengers drove up town from the Union depot. Side by side sat a com mercial traveler named William Mc- Caliy and Mrs. Winnie C. Dumbleton, the eminent lady temperance lecturer. When the omnibus reached the Barret House the commercial mis ion ary seized tiis valise and started out. The lady made a grab after him and he halted. “ I beg your pardon,” she said, “ but you have my valise.” “You are certainly mistaken, mad am,” the traveler said, courteously but firmly, “ this is mine.” “ No, sir,” the lady replied firmly ; “it is mine. 1 would know it among a thousand. You must not take it.” But the traveler persisted and the lady insisted, and they came very near quarreling. Presently one of the pas sengers pointed to a twin valise in the omnibus and asked : “ Whose is that ?” “It isn’t mine,” said the traveler ; “it is just like it, but this is mine.” “ And it isuJt mine," said the lady; “he has mine, and I want it or I’ll have the law on him. It’s a pity if a lady can’t travel alone in this coiuitry without being robbed of her property in broad daylight.” Eina ly, the trav eler said lie would open the valise to prove his property. The lady objected at first, saying site did not want her va lise opened in the presence of a crowd of strangers. But as there was no other means of settling the dispute she at length consented. The traveler sprung the lock, opened the valise, and the curious crowd bent forward to see. On the very top of everything lay a big flat flask, half full of whisky, a deck of cards and one or two things that nobody knows the name of. The traveler was the first to recover his self-possession and speed). “ Madam,” he said, “ you are right. The valise is yours. I owe you athou sand apolo—” But the lady had fainted, and the traveler relocked his valise with a quiet smile. Early in the afternoon a sign painter down town received a note in a feminine hand, asking him to come to the Barret House to mark a red leather valise in black letters a foot and a half long. Many fruit growers make the mistake of allowing a tree or vine to carry to maturity all the fruit which 9ets after the bloom, the consequence in most cases being a large yield of inferior quality and size. Careful experiment has shown that the results have been more profitable when the system of thinning out the young fruit at least one-half has been adopted, producing large, fine, perfect specimens, which will always comman 1 a remunerative price, even when the market is glutted. Apples, pears, and peaches should re ceive this attention before they become larger than ordinary marbles; grape clusters may be thinned while in blos som, and plum trees by vigorous shak ing’ can be relieved of their unncces- I? sary surplus. The day before you wish to boil a ham, scrape, wash and wipe it dry, and put it in the sun ; at night put it into water and let it soak till next morning. Then lay it witli the skin down in a boiler of hot water, and boil slowly for five hours. If the ham is large, boil six hours. When perfectly done and tender, set the boiler aside, with the ham and liquor undisturbed, until cold. Then take olf the skin, sprinkle black pepper over thickly, and sift over crackers first browned and pounded ; for special occasions, place at equal distances over the ham, scraped horse radish in lozenge shape and edged with curled parseley. This mode keeps the ! ham juicy. When wet boots are taken off, fill them quite full with dry oats. This grain has a great fondness for damp ness and will rapidly absorb the least vestige of it from the wet leather. As it takes up the moisture, it swells, and fills the boot with a tightly-fitting last, keeping its form good, and drying the leuther without hardening it. In the morning, shake out the oats, and hang ; them in a bag near the fire to dry, I ready for the next wet night. WHOLE NO. 10'. THE BLESSED DULLS. AND THR WORK THEY HAVE HONE. A Ullmpss si Mask Nprrulstilon—Twa Ctnls I* roll I on 4'ottou— Hnll Mr oat Helps tha Mouth. Atlanta Cunrtltution. It has been fashionable for a long 1 time to abuse the speculators and to say that they cheat the farmer out of his hard earned rights. The south has been especially severe on all who speculated in futures and hns held that* “ in making a foot-ball of our great crop.” for Wall street to play with was not only unholy but profitless. Those of our own people who went into it were denounced and abused. It be gins to look as if those who have de fended the speculative craze are begin ning to have their reward. A short time ago a combination was formed in. Wall street, probably with the famous Jim Keene at the head, for the purpose of controlling the present cotton crop, or at least for fixing its price. After a short but fierce struggle they succeeded in getting the swing and they shoved the price of cotton up ftilly two cents a pound anil have been holding it there ever since. The bears are, of course, trying witli desperate endeavor to break down this inflated price, but they fail to do so, and ttie best advices are that the price will be maintained. The ctfect of this speculative ad vance on the south is enormous. By pushing the price up two cents per pound, the speculators have added $ 10. in value to every bale of cotton that is sold. The receipts i Atlanta alone on yesterday were about 1,200 bales, and the day before 1,100 bales—so that the surplus cash paid out in this one town in two days, because of the specula tion. is about $25,000. It is estimated that fully one million bales have been sold already at tho advanced price in the south. This would have added ten millions of dollars to the cash receipts of the farmers on their cotton up to this time. It is believed by those who should know that this fancy price—for it is two cents better than tho regular price—will be maintained until the bulk of the crop of the south is mar keted—if indeed it is not held all the way through. The farmers are hurry ing their crops to> market as fast as possible and getting tho benefit of the advanced price and if the bulk of the crop can. be marketed at these figures, it is safe to calculate that $50,000,000 in cash will have been put in the pock ets of the southern people that would not have been paid to them except for this combination of Wall street specu lations. A COTTON CltOl* THAT I’AYS A I'UOFIT. The best part of it all is that the $lO a bale added to the value of cot ton by this increase is all profit. At eight cents a pound cotton barely pays for the production. At ten cents a pound a profit of $lO a hale is secured. This profit the farmer can either lay op for a nest egg with which to improve hi* farm, or expend it in treasures which would otherwise be out of his reach. It wHL be seen, therefore, that the $lO a hale profit, makes trade live lier and adds more to the general pros perity than S3O a bale does when it is obliged to go in the fixed routine of guano, wages, etc. We doubt very much if there has been a crop of cotton made since the war, that has paid a clear profit over the cost of production, up to the pres ent season. The price of cotton has of course been higher, but at the same time the price of everything that was used to make the cotton was higher. A closely calculating business man on 3’estcrday told us that the present crop bad been made with meat that cost to cents a pound, and bethought the cotton had probably not cost over 7 cents a pound to put into market. If this estimate be true, and we have no doubt it is, the present crop has paid larger profits by twice over than any crop grown in the south since ’64. It is not easy to calculate the advan tages of this speculative rise to the fanner. It will give almost every small worker in the country a little surplus of profit that will be wortli ten times the amount in actual monej\ It will en able him to fix up his farm a little ; to improve his machinery, and above all to clear away his debts and start even with the world. Indeed, we should not be surprised if this advance in cotton does not furnish the means with which to build many a Clement attachment, and then, with the power in every neighborhood to add 9 cents a pound to the value of every pound of cotton that is grown, we should be sadly mis taken if the time would not soon come when we would scorn to grow joyful on the speculations of a Wall street ’change, as we now do.