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About Crawfordville democrat. (Crawfordville, Ga.) 1881-1893 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 7, 1883)
HALF WAY. Have you forgotten where we stood, Between the lights, that night of spring, The river rolling to the flood, So sad the birds, they dared not sing? No love was ever dreamed like this, Beneath the shadows of the park, Beneath a whisper and a kiss, Between the daylight and the dark. There had been trouble—this was rest; .There had been passion—this was peace; The sunset dying in the west Slade Nature sigh and whispers cease. I only felt what I had found, You only knew what I would say; But nothing broke the peace profound Between the darkness and the day. How will it end? I cannot tell; I asked it many months ago, Before the leaves of autumn fell And changed to winter’s waste of snow. Yet we stand watching at the gate Of summer time for promise—hark ! No, love, ’tis nothing ! We must wait Between the daylight and the dark. Clement Scott. FOR ins BROTHER’S SAKE The True History of a Life of Self-Sacrifice. B5' COL. GEOIIGE W. SYMONDS. “The Governor pardoned John Brisben, a from penitentiary convict, to-day. He was sent up Bourbon for fifteen years for forgery, and had ten years yet to serve. Our readers are familiar with the history of this case, and the humane action of His Excellency will be generally commended.’’ —Frankfort (Ky.) Yeoman. I read this little paragraph and my mind went back six years. I knew John Brisben, and I also knew his twin brother Joseph. I was familiar with the details of the action that placed John Brisben in a felon’s cell, and now, when the sad affair is brought back to mind so vividly, I must write it out, for never before have I met, in prose or poetry, in real life or in romance, a great¬ er hero than plain, matter-of-fact John Brisben. The Brisbens came of good stock. I think the great-grandfather of my hero emigrated to Kentucky when Kenton’s Station, between the present old city of Maysviile and the historic principal town of Washington, “dark was the bloody settlement on the and ground. ” He came from Upper Pennsylvania and lo¬ cated about five miles from the Ohio River, on Limestone creek. He was an industrious, strong-limbed, lion-hearted old fellow, and in a few years his sur roundings were of the most comfortable description. One of bis^ons, Edwin Brisben, once represented Kentucky in the Federal Congress. I think he was tho grandfather of John and Joseph Brisben. Their father’s name was Samuel and he died when they were little chil¬ dren, leaving his and widow an little excellent blue-grass farm a snug fortune in stocks, bonds and mortgages. The widow remained a widow until her death. Mrs. Samuel idolized Brisben was twin a good woman Like and she her boys. most twins, the brothers resembled each other in a striking manner, and even in¬ timate acquaintances could not tell them apart. But although the physical re¬ semblance was so strong there was great dissimilarity Joseph in the dispositions surly and hf the, twins. was morose, sometimes winning and revengeful. He was withal a dreamer and an enthusiast; a man well learned in books, a brilliant, frothy talker when he chose to be soci¬ able (which was seldom), excellent a splendid horseman, and a most shot. John Brisben, on the contrary, was cheerful and bright, honorable and for¬ giving. He was a man of high moral principle, intensely practical and method¬ ical, cared little for books, and, although he said but little, was r. splendid com¬ panion. He was a poor horseman, and I don’t think he ever shot a gun in his life. He saw nothing of tho poetry of life, and as for sport, he work. enjoyed himself loved only his when hard at He brother, and when they were boys to¬ gether suffered punishment many times, and uncomplainingly, that “Jodie” might go scot free, liis life was, there¬ fore, one constant sacrifice, but the object of this loving adoration made ▼nt shabby returns for this unselfish de botion. They were 20 years old when their mother died very suddenly. Joseph made a great pretense of grief, and was so hysterical at the grave that he had to be led away. John, on the contrary, never demon¬ strative, took the great affliction with his customary coolness. He said but little and shed no tears. The property left to the boys was con¬ siderable. The day met they and were made 21 settle¬ years -old the trustees ment. There was the bine-grass farm valued at #50,000, and #100,000 in well invested securities which could be turned -into money. Joseph demanded a di¬ vision. “You can take the farm, Jack," he said. “I was never cut out for a farmer. Give me #75,000 in money for my share." So this sort of a division was made. John continued on at the homestead, working in his plain, methodical way, and slowly adding to his share of the money what he could raise out of the profits of the farm. Joseph, with his newly-acquired wealth, set up an estab¬ lishment at the nearest town and began a life of pleasure-pleasure of the grosser sort. His brother gave him no advice, for he knew it was useless. Joseph spent his money with great prodigality beggar. and before he knew it he was a In the meantime John’s $25,000 had doubled itself. One day Joseph came to him with a full confession of his pe¬ cuniary troubles . only “ Jack,” said he, “I am not a beggar, but I am heavily in debt Help me out like a good fellow, and I will _ set¬ tle down and begin life in sober earnest Wi.h m, capacity tor business I can soon make monev enough to repay you. I have sown my wild oats, and ^ith a little help I can soon recover all that I have squandered so foolishly.” Brisben placed For an answer John his name to an order for the #2-5,000 he had earned so laboriously. Jodie?” “Will that lie enough, he asked, “because I have as much more, which von can have if it is necessary.” “This will be sufficient, old fellow,” was the reply. “In two years I will pay it back.” He went back to town, drew his money, paid his debts, sold some of his horses and discharged several of his servants. Twenty thousand dollars was left out ol the loan. He invested this in business, and for a while seemed to have really re¬ formed. John was encouraged to say: “Jodie will come out all right. He is smarter than I, and in five years will 1 h worth more money than I could make in a life-time.” In less than three years Joseph Bris ben’s affairs were in the hands of his creditors, and a sheriff’s officer closed out his business. Again he turned to his brother for help and sympathy.” trifle “I own that I managed a care¬ lessly,” he said by way of explanation. “Experience is a dear teacher, and the lesson I have learned I shall never for¬ get. If you come to my assistance now I can soon recover myself.” Brisben placed Once more John his name to a check payable to the order of liis brother, and Joseph entered into business again. In two years he was a bankrupt. “I shall never succeed in business, Jack,” he said. “Help me out of this trouble and I will live with yon on the farm, I shall si.joeed as a farmer.” hoard to It took all of John Brisben’s pay his brother’s debts, but he made no complaint, uttered no reproach. He said: “I am glad you are coming back to the farm, Jodie. You need do no work, and will be very happy together. ” we So Joseph took up his residence at the farm, and remembering his brother’s words, devoted his time principally about the to hunting, fishing and riding country. In the meantime John Brisben had fallen in love, and the daughter of a neighboring farmer, Compton, by name, of was his promised wife. and having Being, a full man strict honor himself con¬ fidence in his brother, he did not object when Joseph began to pay his affianced very marked attention. “I am glad he likes her," he that thought. have “I am so busy on the farm I little time for pleasure, and Alice is so fond of amusement. ” One night Joseph came to him just as the shadows of evening were beginning in to fall. There was a triumphant ring his voice when he spoke. said, holding “Jack, old boy,” he out, his hand, “congratulate me. I think that from to-day I can date the begin¬ ning of a new life. Alice Compton has promised to be my wife.” He was too much engrossed with his new happiness to see the effect of this announcement as portrayed on John’s face. He did not notice the strong man’s hand tremble in his own. “Is this true?” faltered John at last. “Why, of course it is. Are you not glad ? We love each other and shall be very happy.” ( « i We love each other, and shall be very happy !’ ” repeated John mechanic¬ ally, and all the sunshine of his life sank behind the heavy clouds of despair. “Yes, Jodie, I am glad, and I wish you long years of happiness.” rather He turned away and staggered, did than walked, to his own room. He not stir all night. Once a deep, sobbing groan struggled ’ to his lips, 1 and the moonbeams struggling through the win¬ dow fell full upon his face, and surprised his pale two great tears stealing down cheeks. He brushed away this evidence of weakness and sorrow, and when the morrow came, no one looking into his calm, serene eyes would have guessed how hard was the battle that had been fought and won in that lonely chamber. They were married, and the man re¬ jected by the bride and supplanted congratulate by the groom was the first to the npwly-rnarried pair. A vacant house on the farm was fitted up for their recep¬ tion and John Brisben’s money paid for the furnishing. “Hereafter, Jodie,” he said, “we will divide the profits of the farm. I don’t need much, and you shall have the la’ ger share. ” Ten years passed away, and John Bris¬ ben, an old man before his time, still worked from dawn till dark that his brother might play the gentleman family which and the keep in comfort drawn the large round him. had years had It been necessary to mortgage the old homestead, t o raise money to pay Joseph’s gambling debts, for of late years be had played heavily, and bad invariably lost. One day—it was in the summer of 1877—a forged check was presented at one of the banks at the shire town, by Joseph v Brisben, and the money for which it called was unhesitatingly paid over to him. He was nnder the influence of liquor at the time, and deeply interested in a game of cards for high stakes, which was in progress. The check was for #2,500, I think. Before daylight the next morning Joseph Brisben had lost every dollar of it. To drown his chagrin he became beastly drunk, and while in this condition an officer arrived and ap¬ prehended him for forgery and uttering a forged check. jail, and The prisoner was con¬ fined in word of his disgrace was sent to John Brisben. The latter read the message, and a mist came over his eyes. He groaned audibly, and but for a strong effort of the will he would have falleivto the floor, so weakened was he by the shock. “She must not know it,” he said to himself, and he made instant prepara¬ tions to visit his brother. When he reached the jail he was admitted to tlie cell of the wretched criminal, The brothers remained together for several hours. What passed during the inter¬ view will never be known. When Join: Brisben emerged from the jail he went straight to the magistrate who had issued the warrant for the apprehension of Joseph Brisben. “Squire,” he said, in his slow, hesitat- 111 -W J™J^TfriflTrSked wa 'v"v i' en ,- K ! he magistrate, . , , who had , a high regard “ Y <f v ? have fel or * caused ▼ the .. arrest 4 of f an m nocent majL But -began the magistrate . , , “Issue an order for my brother’s m stant release. He is innocent of the intent to do wroDg. I am the guilty man. I forged the name of Charles Ellison to the check he uttered. He know that it a forgery. ( did not the was astounded magis¬ “You,” cried forger—impossible?” trate. “You a days; ( “Nothing is impossible in these said the white-haired old man sternly. “I alone am guilty. My brother is in " uocent.” the So stoutly did he aver that he was forger that the magistrate reluctantly issued a warrant for his arrest, and at the same time lie wrote an order to the jailor for the release of Joseph Brisben. “My constable will be in soon. the magistrate, but the old hero picked up both the papers. T “I will not trouble him, he said; 1 will execute both papers. And he did. Handing the jailor both papers, he explained their meaning thus: T “They have made a mistake. It is 1 who am to be your prisoner. My broth' er is innocent.” Accordingly Joseph Brisben was re teased and returned to the farm. J' 1 * 111 remained at the jail a prisoner. When the extraordinary affair became known, several prominent citizens oflered to go on the accused man s bond, but he would not accept their kind offices. At the the trial he pleaded guilty and was sen¬ tenced to fifteen years’ imprisonment Joseph at hard labor in the penitentiary. removed came to see him before he was to Frankfort, but their interview was e private one. remained the farm, Joseph Brisben at but he was a changed man. From the day he was released from jail down to the time of his death, he was never known to touch a card, and a droo ol liquor never passed liis lips. Last April he died, and his confession, duly sworn to before a justice the of burial, the p eace, In sub- was made public this: after That he guilty stance it was was of the forgery for which his heroic brother was suffering a long imprison menr. „ “It was my brother’s wish, _ insisted not mine, _ thflt reads the document, “He he who had no ties of blood or marriage could better suffer the punishment and the disgrace than I who had dependent upon me a large family. ” Noble John Brisben ! Of such stull are heroes made .—Detroit Free Press. A LAKESIDE MUSING. Why George Would not Accept His Loved One’s Invitation to Stay to Tea. “You are too tart.” A ghastly pie-crust pallor that is in strange contrast to the ruddy flush of his new necktie passes swiftly over George W. Simpson’s face as Beryl McCloskey speaks these words, and as they stand there together in the dim half-light of the conservatory, the soft perfume of the June rose coming through the open win¬ dow on the sighing breeze that is kissing the sawbuck whose haggard form is sharply outlined against the woodshed, he feels instinctively that this loved, woman— and the only woman he has ever to win a smile from whom he would brave tlie horrors of Inferno or go to St. Louis in July—has been making a toy of his affections. The thought is a mad¬ dening one, and as it surges through liis brain aiid starts on the return trip almost without a pause the agony is bo over¬ powering that the strong man reels, and would have fallen had not his pants ’ >i too tight. *s v “Do you know what yon have cliose qaid, Beryl ?” he said, bending his face plead¬ to hers and looking with a pitiful, ing, man-on-third-base-and-tWo-out ejves {ex¬ pression into the beautiful brown that are upturned to his. But there is no light of love in those dusky orbs; Ino warm, -while-when-we-get-home-from-the responsive, you-may-hold-me-a iittle - concert gleam. Around the drooping mouth there are hard, tense lines, and on the white brow, that is fair as the cy¬ clamen leaves scattered over the lawn of Brierton Villa, there came no rosy flush —sweet messenger of love and truthful¬ ness—nothing but the bandoline. faint, perfumy And odor of homemade as she does not answer him, but stands de¬ fiantly, only the irregular crackling of her liver pad telling of the emotion that Beryl feels, he turns away, steps through the open window upon the veranda, and an instant later he is lost to view. “My God!" exclaims the girl, sob¬ bing as if she had mislaid her shoe bot toner on matinee day. “I have driven him away!” and hastily pushing aside the honeysuckles that cluster around the window she goes hastily out into the purple twilight that hangs like a mantlo over the earth and calls to him. There is a little stir among the lilacs and syringas, and an instant later George has elapsed her to his suspender. “And you do love me, after all?” he asked. She laughs softly, as if bewildered by her sudden happiness, and then her eyes fill with tears as she softly strokes liis face. “Yes, darling,” is the answer, “and yon must come to supper now. We are to have hot biscuits. I made them my¬ self.” “Yon made them ?” “Yes,” she whispers, “made them all by myself.” “Then,” he says coldly, “yon cannot iove me,” and starts for the gate. The girl follows him and cries in a low, de¬ spairing wail for him to come back. But he does not heed her. On and on he goes, when suddenly she sees him throw up his arms, as the drowning man does when battling with the very air for exist¬ ence, and disappear forever. He had stepped into a post hole—Chi¬ cago Tribune. The Kentucky colonel who comes tc Little Rock and is arrested by a negre policeman is the most outraged man it the world. He always swears that ht owned a hundred slaves liefore the wai and that no infernal “nigger” shall ar¬ rest him, but he changes his mind ana accompanies “de culTud gen’leman.”— Arkansaw Traveler. A Home.— The Soldiers’ Home estate at Washington covers 502 acres. There are 500 inmates, with 150 out pension¬ ers, who cost $8 per month. The reve¬ nue is about $160,000 a year, derived in part from #100,000 levied by Gen. Scott on the city of Mexico for American having permitted guerillas to fire on troops, and from a fee of 12i cents a month deducted from the pay-of all sol¬ diers in the army. QQY CRUELLY TREATED. _ TI1E FIRST “BLOODY SHIRT” AND HOW THE PHRASE SPREAD. -V Typo’s Apprenticeship Sixty-six Years a«o—A Brutal FIokkIuk and Wliat Came ol **• [From tho New York Star.] j n ^j 10 g p r j U g 0 f 1817 your correspon j e nt, then 15 years of age, was duly iu Ventured as an apprentice to learn the irt of plating with the firm of Kappel, Crow & Co., publishers of the Museum cmd Gazette, a daily morning paper in Savannah. Michael J. Kappel was the pri llc ip n l of tlie firm and Cosam Emire portlet wa9 employed as editor. There were two other apprentices, Joseph Wliitenbury j cousins and Joseph Taylor, both of w lom were of Mr. Kappel, and were brought by him from Hartford, Q oun _ Bartlet had a brother who was foreman of the printing department, and q le yyhole concern were boarding at the northeast corner of Broughton and Ber Iiar( j streets, in a genteel boarding-house yj vs happy Lydia and Carson, industrious a widow lady. I was in my new employment and became infatu¬ ated with type-setting, and Mr. Kappel, observing my proficiency, became very partial toward me, and ordered that I should be given occasional job work to do, in which I displayed much skill. Each of us boys had a routo on which to serve the papers to the subscribers, and this was accomplished before break¬ fast. In tho summer of 1819 the editor, Bartlet, took to himself a wife. Mr. Kappel Hartford, was absent this summer on a visit to Conn. As soon as he left the city Bartlet took the threo ap¬ boarding-house prentices away from Mm. Carson’s and transferred them to his own domicile. This was undoubtedly done for the purpose of feathering his own pelled nest. Tho the three second boys were table, com¬ and to eat at the leavings were so stinty that three boys were compelled to sell the old newspaper exchanges bread to grocery stor's their to buy loaves of to appease hunger. Besides, their clothing was in a bad plight and ragged; their shoe leather was so worn that part of the time they were compelled to economize by going barefooted in carrying out tho newspapers to subscribers. The citizens noticed, silently, our condition. As for myself, I never mode a complaint plantation to my father, who lived on his five miles from Savannah, nor to my uncle, a magistrate in the city, nor to my cousins. We bore our misfortunes “with Christian fortitude and pious resigna¬ tion.” At length resignation ceased to be a virtue with us, mid we three held a con¬ sultation, with the result that I should write a letter to Mr. Kappel and acquaint him with the facts as above narrated. This was signed by both tho other raised boys, the and between the three we amount of 25 cents (the then postage on a single letter between Savannah and Hartford), for which we had to go hungry awhile for sacrifice of funds. In a couple of weeks after the posting of the letter to Mr. Kappel, Bartlet came up from the reading room and requested me to bring to his residence a small par¬ cel which he placed in my hand. After . washing my hands and donning my rag¬ ged bombazine coat I started on tho errand unconscious of what was to hap¬ pen, even after he bade me go up to the boys’ bedroom. Ho followed me up, and, after locking the door, he drew forth a letter from his pocket as lie seated himself on one of the cot beds and remarked: “I have just received a letter from Mr. Kappel in which he states that he had received a letter from you complaining of my treatment of you. Now, tell mo what you wrote in that let¬ ter, without equivocating in the least, for I have it nil here.” I proceeded truthfully to relate the contents of that letter, when ho ordered me to take off my coat. Obeying the command, he drew forth a brand now rawhide he had concealed from view. “Now it is my turn, and I’ll teach you to write letters!” That base wretch, with all tlie strength he could muster, belabored my back and limbs until he was tired. I fell, fainting, to the floor. How long I lay there I know not. Recovering he bade me arise. I got upon my feet and he renewed the attack. “I’ll make you ask for pardon ere I stop.” Again I suffered until I seized him by the arm and told him to “ stop or we should go together below." out of the window to the ground I had received at least above a hundred cuts from that rawhide. The coward ceased. “Now go to the office and tell Joseph Withenbnry to bring up a half dozen quills to the house." I obeyed tlie order. Joe was at his case, setting type. “What’s up?” said he. “Bartlet wants you to bring half a dozen quills to the house, right away. He has received a letter from your cousin, Kap peL” Joe went immediately. He was the oldest apprentice and was large for one of his age, red-haired and a “bully boy.” In twenty minutes Joe was back to the office. I was seated at the head of the back stairway that led to the yard. Joe came to me and said that Bartlet ordered him to go to tho “boys’room.” “He followed me with tlie rawhide and told me to pull off my cout,” said Joe. “I just seized hold of him and said I was aide to put him out of the window, and if he did not unlock the door and let me out immediately J should defend myself at once—and he did so. The sneak un¬ locked the door, and here I am, undis¬ mayed. ” from the Pretty reading soon Bartlet with came the up rawbnle room in his fist, and, stepping up to the press lehind which Joseph Taylor was correct¬ ing proof, said to him: ■‘I’ll learn you to give your signature •o letters to Kappel, you villain.” He gave the boy about half a dozen ■flight cuts, and then came tome where I van seated and told me to go to my work, 'lis brother—the foreman—came for¬ ward and told him that 1 was in no con lition to work, and told me that I had 'etter go np to the house and he down mtil to-morrow. Instead of going to my uncle and mak ng a complaint against the wretch, I rent to the “boys’ room” and laid ray .cerated limbs ujiou the cot. When •rie of the boys came up to call me to go to dinner I was unable to go, and he 1 irought mo a glass of water. That night I had a raging fever, and instead of tak¬ ing off my clothing for the night as usual I found it an impossibility to do so, as ('VC ry limbs garment was adhering to my body and from the bloody lacerations made by Bartlett with his rawhide. At sunrise in the morning I arose and had barely strength enough to reach my uncle’s house, which was not more than the fifth of a mile distant. He sent at once for a physician and a negro with a horse and buggy to bring my father to the city. When the doctor came my tortures were renewed in the endeavor to detach the clothing from my wounds. The shirt, when spread out to view, after being removed from my quivering fiesh, was more of red than white. “Save that garment juntas it is; place it carefully away,” evidence said the against doctor; the “it will be damning committed this horrible wretch who has act.” My uncle issued a warrant for Bart let s arrest. He appeared and the gave trial bonds for his appearance when should come off. In a couple of weeks u\y fever was broken up and I could leave my bed. In the meantime Hon. Levi S. De Lyon, an graciously eminent tendered lawyer, came forward and his services to conduct tlm case before a court of three magistrates, my uncle de¬ clining to act as one of them. In a few days after the case was called at my uncle’s office, and the defendant made a miserable defense. Mr. De Lyon made a most thrilling appeal to the three pre¬ siding magistrates, holding aloft the bloody shirt : “Look at this evidence of cruelty. We don’t, in Georgia, use such vile cruelty on our negro criminals, and the law of the State forbids the use of the rawhide upon the white inhabitants. I, myself, when an apprentice in the lawyer’s office, was struck with a rawhide not a hundredth part as severely as this child has suffered, and yet it was suf ficent to cancel my indentures, and on that occasion I pleaded my magistrates own case.” A brief consultation of the ended with a verdict for tho plaintiff, a fine of $1,000 against the defendant and the canceling of the indentures. REVISED ANECDOTES. Something In the Way ol Fable* fl-oni Harper’s Magazine far July. Diogenes.— Diogenes the Athenian having by his cynical remarks induced the citizens to believe that their rulers were no better than they should be, and that he had a comer on virtue and in¬ telligence, met one day at noon tho Com¬ mittee of One Hundred, and upon in¬ quiring of them their mission, was in¬ formed that ih-y were looking for an honest man to run for Chief Magistrate of the city on a non-partisan ticket. “In that case, fellow-citizens," further. replied Diogenes, “y < m need go no I am the man \ on are looking for. Your candidate ! will lie.” And after accept¬ ing the nomination ho added, in confi¬ dence, to tho friends in whose hands he had placed himself, that he did not be¬ lieve hi a man hiding his lantern under a tub. Alexander and Bucephalus.—P hilip of Maoedon was the possessor of a horse, Bucephalus by name, which all liis grooms had in v;rin endeavored to train so that it would allow a three-ininuto record. His youthful son Alexander, however, undertook tho job, and was not long in subduing tho animal. Tho news of this exploit having been brought to the king, ho was not slow in sending for his son, to whom he ad¬ dressed tho following words: “You must seek out for yourself some other kingdom than miue, my son, her cause people who go into the horse business are rarely good for anything else.” It was upon hearing these words that Alexander wept to think that he would have to conquer other kingdoms instead of coming into one at the old man’s death. ClHBAR AND TnE PILOT. — C. Julius Ccesar having occasion to make a sea voyage, a storm sprang up, and the ves¬ sel was placed in imminent peril. freedman, At this moment CiBsar’s Cn. Pompilius Mucilaginus,. whispered to his master, “Would it not be well for you, O Cmsar, to encourage the pilot by reminding him that he carries Closer and his fortunes ?” “By no means,” replied the conquer¬ and or. "It would only rattle him; be¬ sides, if he saved us he would expect o liberal tip.” Mohammed and the Spider. — Tlie Prophet Mohammed, while fleeing from his enemies, was compelled to take ref uge in a cave, across the month of which a Bpider spun her web, so that the pursuers on coming up were convinced that no one had entered there. Upon rejoining his family in safety the Prophet did not fail to give an account of his wonderfnl deliverance, and ever afterward his young wife Ayesha, it was observed, would rate severely or even chastise the slaves when she had noticed that they had neglected to sweep down the cobwebs from the roof of the harem, observing that people could not he too careful about such tilings, recognition of her Mohammed, in therenpon affection and thoughtfulness, adopted Ayeslia’s black petticoat as the standard of the Arabian nation, quelling the murmurs of the haughty chiefs, who were reluctant to follow so feminine an emblem to the field, by the remark that if he, the Prophet of Allah, was so much afraid of that petticoat, mnch more would the infidels be terrified. A crippled man stopped a Philadel¬ phia lawyer on the street the other please day, and begged for alms. “Won’t yon give a poor man, with a large starving?” family, something to keep them from For a wonder, the lawyer’s heart was touched. “M.y ]>oor fellow,” he said, “I feel for yon. 1 haven’t any change to give you, but I tell you what I will do : If you want a divorce, I’ll only charge you half rates.” Losing Money.—T he principal stock¬ holder in five Connecticut cotton mills declares that they are running shut at an actual loss, and would bo if the companies did not dislike to stop their employees’ means of livelihood. * FOURTH OF JULY. Distinguished Events on that Day Durln* Three Centuries. In Medical Truth for July, 1883, Dr. Duscowski, gives the following table of every important historical event which happened on the Fourth of July since this country was settled by European colonists: massacred In 1648—The Mohawks the inhabitants of St. Joseph’s village, Mass. 1676—Bacon of Virginia, supported by liberty-loving colonists, triumphed over the Royal Governor Berkeley, who was forced to ratify all resolutions of an in¬ dependent assembly. condemned 1692—Rebecca Nurse as a witch at Salem. 1744—A treaty of peace ratified at Lancaster, Pa., between the Governor of Pennsylvania, the Commissioners of Maryland and Virginia and the Six Na¬ tions. 1754—Benjamin Franklin’s plan of confederation of colonies against the In¬ dians and French adopted by sill except Connecticut. Colonel George Washing¬ ton, having retreated with his starving men from before the three times stronger Frenchmen to Fort Necessity, capitu¬ lated to Villiers: the Americans were permitted to leave with all honors of war. 1775— Georgia appointed delegates to the Continental Congress. 1776— The Declaration of Independ¬ ence signed. British soldiers landed od Staten Island. Delaware adopts a pro¬ visional constitution. 1779—Tryon started on a raid into Connecticut with 2,600 men, plundered and New Haven, and burned Fairfield Norwalk; from thence proceeded to Sag Harbor, committing depredations every where 17si —Williamsburg, Va., evacuated by the British. 1788 —Groat procession in Philadel¬ phia, celebrating the ratification of the Federal Constitution. 1800—All children of slaves in New York, bom on and after this day, declared free. 1804—Bom in Salem, Nathaniel Haw¬ thorne, the well known author. 1814— -President Madison oalls for 93,500 militia against Great Britain. 1815— Trial trip of the first Fulton, steam ves¬ and sel of war, built by Robert called Fulton the First. 1826— Died, the ex-Presidents, Thomas Jefferson, author of the Declar¬ ation of Independence, and John Adams, 1827— Total abolition of slavery in Now York. 1829—The Chesapeake and Delaware Canal opened. —Treaty between the United 1881 Stares and Fiance, at Paris. The French Government agreeing to pay #5,000,000 indemnity. The first locomo¬ tive built in America, by Colonel Long, was tried on tlio Newcastle and French town Railway. 1845—The people of Texas ratify their annexation to the United States. 1851—The corner stofie to the wings of the Capitol laid at Washington. 1861—Extra session of 37th Congress. President Lincoln recommends the rais¬ ing of 400,000 men and #400,000,000. The Confederates erect a battery of rifled cannon at Mathias Point. Va. 1863—Vicksburg surrenders after many and bloody battles on land and water. The paroled prisoners numbered 31,277, including fifteen generals. Among the spoils of the battle were 206 siege guns, 6,000 head of cattle, 1,000 liogsheads of sugar, 380,000 pounds of ammunition, 500 horses, #5,000,000 worth of clothing, 50,000 stand of small arms. Confederates retreat from Ten nossee and lose about 300 prisoners. Alexander H. Stephens desires to confer with the United States Government. 1864— The Enrolment act signed by President Lincoln. 1865— Laying of tho comer-stone of the Gettysburg Monument in Memory 1866—A destructive fire consumes one tliird of Portland, Me. Loss $10,000, 000 . 1868—Third amnesty proclamation by the President. National Democratic Convention at New York. 1870—The the yacht American race across yacht Daunt¬ the At¬ lantic won by less. 1871—Proclamation of General Grant announcing the treaty and of Washington fall between England America in operation. 1874—Ground broken for the building of the Centennial Exhibition at Phila¬ delphia. The bridge over the Mississip¬ pi, at St. Louis, one of the wonders of the world. After the Sparrows. The English sparrows which have col¬ onized Pennsylvania have been doomed by statute to extermination. But the aggressive little plunderers in a game of this sort with mankind hold several strong cards of which the strongest is their fecundity. The farmers and gar¬ deners seem ito be in earnest, however, and will probably win in the end. They will not waste ammunition on the birds, but destroy their nests and eggs at breed¬ ing time. Moreover, a popular French cook in Philadelphia asserts substitute that young for sparrows are an admirable reed birds, and that on numerous occa¬ sions hosts and guests alike have eaten the former in thankfulness of heart that Providence had provided such a luxury as the latter. If this be so and man’s stomach and pocket take the same side in the contest, it is »U up with the sparrows. Noth i no for Charity.— Commenting on the recent article in the Lon Ion •Spec¬ tator, showing that during the last 10 years'17 Englishmen million who pounds, died 52 had more left more than one than half a million, and .195 more than a quarter of a million. Truth, of Loudon, says thatonly.two of the millionaires were distinguished for their philanthropy, and that with the others “charity began and ended at home. ” Dividends. — The semi-annual div; tlends payable in Boston in July aggn- of gate $12,286,960, which is an mere se #2 129,978 over July of last year-, hut a decrease of $516,058 as compared with January last
