Newspaper Page Text
—PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT—
HAMILTON, GEORGIA.
“bine straw bagging, ” says the H ri
da Di.i/ki'c/i, “is pronounced, after a
the: ugh test, to be superior to jute in
every respect.”
The French chemist who discovered
oleotuargerinc has now invented a pro
cess for treating steel by which steel
bronze and bell metal can be made at
fabulously low prices.
The new public library building ir.
Boston is designed to accommodate the
most complete collection of books in the
United States, It will have shelf room
for 'J, 01)0,000 volumes.
The fact that the city population ol
this country had increased from four per
cent. forthe whole in 1800 to twelve
and a half percent, in t'-oO, and twenty
two and a half per cent, in C80, wa s
made the basis for gloomy prophecies of
disease, poverty and anarchy.
Indianapolis is to have a soldiers’
monument that will be 2<i'> feet high,
and expected to cost MHO,000. It
■will be constructed of limestone from
Indiana quarries, and, if the hopes of
its designers and builders are carried
out, will be the finest and costliest sol¬
diers’ monument in America. The work
will take three or four years to complete.
The little town of Brookline, Mass.,
which is nearly surrounded by Boston,
is valued for purposes of taxation at
$101, 0°s, which is more than one
and a half times as much as the valuation
of the whole Mate of New Hampshire.
It is the wealthiest town of its size in
America, and mainly because it has the
reputation of being a taxpayer’s para¬
dise.
A correspondent of the Philadelphia
./Vcu writes from Washington: “The
question of pure lard would appear to
be interesting tho country just now to
an unusual extent, as about two hun¬
dred petitions have been presented in
Congress asking for the passage of a law
to tax adulterated lard, as was done in
tlir case of oleomargarine. The petitions
are being sent from the granges in
various States.
Belgium, Austria, Italy, Denmark,
Germany, and several Swiss cantons,
have prohibited the public exhibition of
hypnotic or mesmeric performances.
France will probably soon follow, as tho
measure is recommended by the French
assce iation for the advancement of sci¬
ence. There is a growing conviction
that the practice of abnormal phenomena
tends to make them normal or permanent
cha’actcrHtics. of the patient.
Tl:e e is much that is picturesque,
doubtless, in the war now in progress
in Egypt, observes the Washington
Si /;■, but not a great deal that is of in¬
terest to Americans, except as the results
may effect the fortunes of Kmin and
Manley. So strong is the influence of
projnnq VI l j and kindied that the sink
in U ' of ;t tu ; on the l'otoimic with two
laborers a board would stir more deeply
the hearts of the newspaper readers of
Washit .gt> 11 than the brilliant tight at
u a is i n in which 100 Arabs were killed.
The shipment of 10,000 i hinese
coolies to Siberia will mark, asserts the
ban Francisco i ( »• c, , a new depart
ure in the relations between China and
Russia. i or a long time the frontier
has been rigidly gua i and no Chinese
have been a to settle in Siberia,
while t hina, o her part, I, 1 :»S prevented
any V uropem mers ii m xvor king tlio
ric gOHi i ieposits on the A moor river.
Many part * oi Sou era Siberia offer a
ffood field to the turous Chinese
2 en cut oil ora this com!
v n a
New k !: “It is
if t oddest f 'graphical ca
i V- .i ( if iture the
America, only
about one nu • miles wide,
sue v id th vi t ans. You
WOi na v up hat cither the
W v
the a Atlantic.
Th< iriv d that this
ni > tied on and
:et, but were
at round Cape
i do we
nu T ’anama
route en bandoned,
tin* more cssity for undertaking to
pier e the Isthmus by the Nicaraguan
line of survey.”
marthys kiss,
When I went a-courtin’ Marthy,
I was poor as poor conlrl be,
But that didn’t set her ag in me,
For she had faith in me;
She knew I had grit an’ courage,
An’ wasn’t the kind to shirk,
An’ she was ready an’ willin’
To do her share of work - .
I remember our we '.din' mornin’,
An' how she said to me:
“You’re poor an’ I’m poor, Robert,
That’s easy enough to see:
That is, as some folks reckon:
But our hearts are rich in love,
An’ xve two'll pull together,
An’ trust in the Lord above.”
Then she reached up an’ kissed mo,
An’ said, as .she did this,
“There’s always more where that come from,
An’ there’s help sometimes in a kiss.”
1 tell you what it is. sir,
I felt as strong ag'in,
After that kiss she give me.
An’ I jest la i l out to win.
An’ I did it. IV e’ve money a plenty,
An’ the comforts it can give;
W e’ve a home, an' w.- ve got each other,
An’ a few more years to live.
Whenever my hands got weary
I d think of tiie woman at home,
An’ somehow’t would make work easy
An’ light, till night’d come.
I tell you that kiss of Marthy’;
Was better than bags of gold.
There’s riches some folks can’t reckon
An’ things that don’t grow old.
I shouldn’t ha’ been without it.
The man that I've got to be,
An’ .Marthy shall have the credit
For the help sties been to raj.
Alien A. lU.rjord, in Yankee Blade.
IN liOBROlVED FEATHERS.
T i wa-> a rainy . evening, and Hatto
i was uirays libeially well-worn, besprinkled blue merino with bright gown
drops as she carnc into Daphne Walters’
room at the “idd i ed House.”
l hat was t.ie name by which . it went,
although the red j aiut was long ago
washed oil its crumbling shingles.
It had beer, a hotel once in the old
post-revolutionary days, when four horse
stages went rumbling by, and cock
hatted tiaveiers trotted past with saddle
bags strapped behind them.
It was now a cheap boarding-house,
kept by Mrs. Handison, where most of
the girls boarded who worked in Lis
combe s bilk Mills, hail a mile do wn the
r3Vur -
Hattie Murray did not live there, be¬
cause her lather owned a dreary sheep
farm on the flats beyond, and she helped
with the housework morning and even
ing in lieu of her board, and she bad run
over in the rain for an evening chut with
the girl who stood at the next loom to
hers.
She was a bine eyed, yellow-haired
girt, like a French doll, with pretty
teeth and a simpering way of showing
them; and slender as were the wages
she earned, she always contrived to he
showily attired. She worshipped dress
as a Parsec worships the sun.
Daphne of W alters was quite a different
sort person—olive complexioned,
with sombre, glittering eyes, and a dim
pie nestling close to the corner of her
lips. She
wore a brown serge gown, which
Hattie was quite sure must have be
longed the cheap to “Mrs. Noah;” and m place of
imitation ewelry which
spaikhd ail o' er Hattie’s trim person,
lier plain lintfh collar was fastened by
a bow of narrow brown ribbon.
Mie looked up with a smile, aud
pointed to a wooden chair close to the
table beside wh eh she wax working.
“Vvhv, Hattie,’'said she, “you are all
dripping '
with ruin ”
“Oil, it’s nothing!” cr ed Hattie,
Hinging off h r hood and shawl. “W hat
are you working at; 1 hat old thing?”
with a contemptuous upward tilt of her
pretty little n se.
1 t.ipliiic looked down at the garnet
casluuere dress, which she was re trim
ming with bows of fresh red ribbon, and
smiled a little.
■•It may be oh! ’ said she, “but it is
the best l have got.
“N ou arc not going to wear tnat to tho
husking dm ce.'”
‘Ti’s that or nothing,Hattie,” Pauline
answ red. composedly. “Do you sup
pose 1 can allot f white s ik toilettes or
wine-colored plushes out of my tea dol
lars a week?'’
J la! tie’s face clouded over.
“It’s a shame that old Liscombe pays
us such starva ion wages!” pouted she.
“But that’s ust what I've come over to
talk to von al'-nir. Daphne. I've been
to New Y >rk to-day, m the cheap ex
cursmii
“I note'l that vou weren’t at the
roo it.” ' said Daphne. “iio-a Bucknor
took
“Such a time as 1 have had!” cried
eager Hattie, “And such a lot of now
ideas a icked up! ut awavthat
a owd v oid aslmse e, You
won t wire at it wm'ii you hear
what, l v e >een to the
ques
Uo;
heard of i
( »
H »• Ii ews in a
pr \y I II jff.
tmiik. she, in \' o ie
can U : ! what is ag on
Weil. n i V (j c a place \vt re you
can buy—or hire, if you like t letter
— tne est. most styl sh dresses you
ever saw tor a mere sen ) *
“You must have been , the do
mi f the ‘Arabian Nig ’’’ said
Dapl d-hand place." explained
..i s asecon
Hattie “wh fine ladies 'iisoose of the
things they have worn only a few times,
and sit c cau get superb bargains."
Daphne shrugged her shoulders.
“We should look f.ne, shouldn’t we,”
said she, “in dresses that had been worn
by fine ladies ;”
“We coaid alter them over.”
“No, thank you!” said composed
Daphne. “I prefer the old garnet
mere, with the knots of new ribboD.”
■‘Oh, but,” pleaded Hattie, “you
don’t know! There’s the loveliest a” yellow
morre-antique—perfect, only for wine
stain on the front breadth, and that
could be covered up by changing the
draperies at the back. You are such a
brunette, Daphne, you'd “cost look hundred superb and in
yellow! And it a and
twenty dollars when it was new; you
can buy it now fur thirty-five, paid in in
stallments of five dollars a week.”
“Why don't you say thirty-five hun
dredsaid "
Daphne. “I am as able to
pay one price as another.”
“Or you can hire it for one night, with
boots and gloves to match, for ten dol
lars, and you to pay the expressage both
ways,” added Hattie.
Daphne shook her head resolutely.
“How should I look,” said she—“I, a
poor factory girl—wearing yellow moire
antique? Did you ever read Feathers.’ the fable Hat- of
‘The Daw in Borrowed
tie;”
“I've hired a dress to wear!” defiantly
cried Hattie—“a beauty!”
“The more goose you!”
“Rale blue,” said ecstatic Hattie,
“trimmed with crystal fringe and loops
of crystal cord. Rudolph Tuxford likes
blue. I heard him say so once.”
Daphne colored a little, but said noth
ing. would
send “And I the supposed,of course, you Hat
for yellow moire, ’ went on
tie. “There wouldn’t a girl there be
dressed like us.”
“No, I should think not!” said
Daphne. much for party
“Ten dollars isn’t a
dress'” urged Hattie.
“But you owe the jeweler for that set
of cameos yet.” reminded Daphne. I
“And you haven’t paid the last install
ment on that imitation sealskin jacket
that you xvore all last winter.”
“There’s no hurry about that,” said
Hattie, with a to-s of her head. “No
girl Clin expect to get settled in life if
she has no enterprise at all.”
Daphne was silent. File sewed busily
ou.
“You won’t take the moire dress?”
“No.”
“It would make you look like an
Eastern (.juecn!”
“I would a great deal rather look like
an American factory-girl!’’ said Daphne,
And no amount of persuasion could
induce her to abandon this position.
Hattie went home, almost crying with
vexation.
“And Madam Leroux was going to let
me have the blue silk a dollar cheaper,
it I got a customer for the yellow moire,”
pondered she. “Daphne is too mean
for anything!”
* * ,j,
“You are really going to this country
husking ball, Rudolph?” cried Miss Tux
ford, scornfully,
“I am really going, Adele!”
Miss Tuxford raised her pretty blonde
eyebrows, as she stirred the chocolate in
her decorated china cup.
“Is there any especial attraction?” she
asked, “If’you’Ucome archly.
with me, Dell, I’ll
show you plenty of pretty girls,” laugh
iugly retorted Mr. Tuxford.
“.\m I to have a sister-in-law from the
v , , , . , ,
,
“I haven't quite made up my mind
yet. Del,” composedly answered her
brother. “Upon the whole, however, I
am rather inclined to fancy the idea of
settling down in this quaint old red
brick house that Cousin Arial Tuxford
has le t me. The girls around here are
charming and original, even if they
haven't had boarding school edueat
tions—and, you see. they have not been
brought up to expect seasons at Newport
and summers at Bar Harbor.”
“Tome,” said Adele, “the place is
inexpressibly dreary.”
“ , ou had better come with mi to the
husking-ball,” said Rudolph, laughing, that
“There’s a young mill-owner, re
minds one of Edgar Havenswood, in a
modern cut suit of clothes, and-”
“Nousense!” said Adele.
But she made up her mind to go, all
the same.
hrtmg . pretty dignified
was in a
wav, with Harry Liscombe, the son ot
the silk mill owner, and the original of
the “Edgar Havenswood” idea at the
husking-ball, when suddenly she lifted
up her eyes from behind her jeweled
fan.
“Who is that little creature in the
blue dress, Mr. Liscombe?” said she.
“And the incomprehensible satin boots
that don’t fit her? and the blue gloves
that are not a match for her gown?”
Harry Liscombe looked around.
“Oh,” said he, “I see whom you mean!
She is one of our m.li-girls. Isn’t she
pretty?” h, she’s pretty enough; but that
dress!” Adele burst into a soft, well
modulated fit of'laughter. “It’s one of
my old toilettes that 1 ave to mv maid
l.isette a month ago. And I suppose
I.isettehas sold it- toon, of those second
hand harpies that a e alwavs preyinor
udoii society, and th IS p vr creature has
V >y >me chance stumb : ■pon it. Upon
word, this is too riaicu ous! •51
my ■
Old ' vs. Pot t who sat against the
wall with her two s:. , etc ter,yd: gnters, l.
vrno : ever got any invita ;us to dance.
he
yhe told Miss Maurice, who made a
funnv story of it to amuse the doctor's
d in Ie-- than fifteen
mu es t was through the ballroom
U\e at electric current. People were
looki- g. smiimg. Haute,” wl >enng. wh'spered Dor
“Come away,
ca», her elder sister. “Every one is
laugh; g at your sec-ad-hand dress.”
Hattie colored to the very roots of her
fri zed yellow hair,
“.My second hand dress, she faltered.
“And how do they know it is second¬
hand
“It used to be Miss 1 uxford s, said
Dorcas. “She gave it to her maid. Her
maid sold it to your Madam Leroux
and—Oh, do come away, Hattie! I feel
so ashamed! See how people are star
ing!” ended Hattie Murray’s of
So evening
pleasure; and as she slipped like a guilty
creature out of the room, she saw
Daphne Walters’ 1 eing led to the head
of the second cotillion by Mr. Tuxford
himself.
“In that old red gown, too!” she said
to herself, as she burst into hysterical
tears and sobs out in the turning dressing room,
That evening was the point of
Daphne’s destiny. Rudolph Tuxford’s
heart somehoxv became entangled under
the dark meshes of her long eyelashes -
in the loops of the garnet ribbon which
brightened up her last year’s cashmere
dress—and the haughty Adele had “a
mill-girl” fora sister-inlaw after all.
And a sister-in-law, too. of whom it was
not necessary to be ashamed. For, as
she admitted herself, Daphne had the
dignity of a princess. lady,” acknowl
“She would be a true
®«.ged Adele, “whatever her station in
life!”
But poor, pink-cheeked, 1 axen-haired
Hattie? She stands still before her
loom, watching the whirring wheels, the
revolving bands, but her restless little
heart is ever chafing at her destiny.
“Daphne rolls by in her carriage,” hadn’t
thought she, “while I— Oh, if it
been for that hateful second-hand dress
—for the mocking laughter of those fine
ladies!”
But Hattie Murray was her wrong.
Daphne had conquered through own
noble nature, which spurned aught like
deceit or false appearances. It was not
Daphne that had conquered; jt was
Truth .—Saturday Night.
WISE WORDS.
Women teach us repose.
Silence is the rest of mind.
The world itself is too small for the
covetous.
Nothing great was ever achieved with¬
out enthusiasm.
All is not lost when anything goes
contrary to you.
Laziness travels so slowly that poverty
soon overtakes him.
Some people only understand enough
of truth to reject it.
What we ought not to do we should
never think of doing.
Silence is the wit of fools and one of
the virtues of ihe wise.
The saddest thing under the sky is a
soul incapable ol sadness.
Few persons live to-day, but are pre
paring to do so to-morrow,
In youth, one has tears without grief,
jn a<re r , r j e f without tears,
The barren tig-tree was not cursed be
cause it bore bitter fruit, but because it
bore no fruit.
A mau who is always forgetting his
best intentions, may be said to be a thor¬
oughfare of good resolutions.
A cynical Frenchman once said there
are two parties to love affairs the party
who loves, and the party who consents to
be so treated.
Others proclaim the infirmities .... of
a
great man with satisfaction and coin¬
placence, if they discover none of the
like in themselves,
Writing Famous Poems.
Gray’s immortal “Elegy” occupied
him lor seven years.
Bryant “Thanutopsis - ,, ■ ., he
wrote in
shade of a grand old 1 orest a fit mg
spot lor such a theme.
Cowper wrote one of the drollest and
quaintest Engdsli he ba.lads, under ‘- can Gil
pins Ride, when was one ol
those terrible tits of depression so com
mon to h m.
General Lyle ^ wrote ^ nis beautiful com
position, “Antony and Cleopatra,”
wh cli begins, night “I am dying, ijgypt, death.
dying,” on the before his
11° had a premonition day. that he was going
to die the next
I he noted poem, t he Falls ol M
agara. was written by its nutnor, -I. G.
Biamard. _ the editor of a small paper
m Connecticut, m fifteen minutes. He
m res P° nSC t0 3
“ -'^r \fter e hi ” ^ the little ?.tv
wliicli Las inane me ua name e 0 oi f run Nora a 1 t erry
known in the world oi letters, was jotted
down on the back ol an old letter, with
no idea of the popularity it was to
achieve in the pages ot a noted
zine.
Thomas Moore, while writing Laila
Rookh, spent so many months in lead
ing up t-reek and i ersian works that be
became an accomplished Oriental
scholar, and p'Otiie found it ui ncuit to
believe that its scenes wetc not penngd
on the spot instead of ju a retired
dwelling in Devonshire.
Foe first thought of .he Lens vv.ien
walking the streets of Baltimore on a
winter s night, fie tan., the l ell of a
lawyer’s house—a stranger to him—
walked into the gentleman’s iil.rarv.tfrot
himself up and the next morning pre
sented the lawyer with a copy of his
celebrated poem,
The “Old Oaken Bucket” was first
suggested to the author, Samuel Wood
worth, iu a barroom. A friend with
whom he was arm king said that when
they wen > bovs the oid oaken bucket
that hung in hi father’s well was good
enough for them to drink from. Wood
worth immediately went home and wrote
the famous eern.
“Old Gri ” that familiar “little
felicity in vei ’’ which caught the 1
popular lane • | < far back as , was a ;
sudden inspiration of the late Judge
Albert G. Greene, of Providence. R. 1.,
who found the first verse in a collection
of old Ilngl.sh ballads, and. enjoying
its humor, bu-.t up the remainder of the
poem in the same conceit. — Tne Library.
A beetle can draw twenty times it?
own weight. - o can a mustard plaster.
BETTER THAN COLD.
Better than grandeur, better than gold
Than rank and titles a thousand fold,
Is a healthy body and mind at ease.
And simple pleasures that always please;
A heart that can feel for another's woe,
And share its joys with a genial glow;
With sympathies large enough to enfold
All men as brothers, is better than gold.
Better than gold is a conscience clear,
Though toiling for bread in an humble
sphere,
Doubly blessed with content and health,
Untried by the lust or the cares of wealth;
Lowly living and lofty thought
Adorn and ennoble a poor man's cot;
For mind and morals, in nature's plan,
Are the genuine tests of a gentleman.
Better than gold is the sweet repose
Of the sons of toil xvhen their labors close;
Better than gold is the poor man’s sleep,
And the balm that drops on his slumber
deep,
Bring sleepy draughts to the downy bed,
Where luxury pillows its aching head.
But he his simple opiate deems
A shorter route to the laud of dreams.
Better than gold is a thinking mind,
That in the realm of books can find
A treasure surpassing Australian ora,
And live with the great and good of yore;
The sage’s lore and the poet’s lay,
The glories of empire pass away;
The world’s great dream will thus unfold,
And yield a pleasure better than gold.
Better than gold is a peaceful home,
When all the fireside characters come;
The shrine of love, the heaven of life,
Hallowed by mother, or sister, or wife;
However humble the home may be.
Or tried with sorrow by heaven’s decree.
The blessings that never were bought not
sold,
Aud center there are better than gold.
HUMOR OF THE DAY,
A. land of distress—Wales.
On strike—A parlor match.
A shepherd’s crook—A sheep stealer.
The seaboard—Salt pork and hard
tack.
With the builder it’s either put up or
shut up.
In the matter of fans the Chinese take
the palm.
The “nimble shilling” must be made
out of quicksilver.
Now say the bees after the hive is
prepared for them: “We’ll make things
hum here.”
A spirit thermometer is best for cold
weather purposes, became there is always
a drop iu it.
Shrewd inquiries are being made as to
whether the cup of sorrow’ has a saucer.
Can any one tell!
Jav Eye See will probably remain on
the turf instead ot going under it.—
New Turk Herald. ■
When it comes to a question between
pies and piziu it is hard to decide.—
liielunond Despatch.
Uncle Sam may laugh at Canada, but
he can’t catch a nation by cachinuation.
—Detroit Free Pres .
If he who hesitates is lost, the man
who stutters must have great difficulty
in finding himself .—Some rv ill Jertrual.
’Tis a human act to kill canines
But^theifit'gives'a wicked'tsete
To the sausage of Botogne.
Bobby—“What did vou sav, pa?” Fa
_.«_\ ever mind.” Bobby—“1 don’t of
‘ener than 1 have to, uo I ?”—Bing hump
Pevublic'nu He*
who fights and runs away *
May live to fight another day;
But he who never tights at ail,
Yet swears he whips, has lots of gall.
Tennyson compares men to trees, and
perhaps'he all limbs, is whose right boughs about some awkward, men, who
are are
an( j whose general York refutation is some
-^at shady .—N io Sun.
Little Boston Girl (as the' hair-bi'jah cons&u
j s reached for)—“Mamina, the
vcnegs an d the prevalency of these in
term ; n , tlj l e castigations are slowlv saw-
1 - very pfe Time.
The United States Post Office Depart
ment is pretty weT supplied with reg.da
tions, > there is one more we should like
0 b( , 1 , , l A.jj t ?>*“.. - ■*
‘'"jam , .
13 ° “
Heiaiil in t oik's m sorrow.
^
The friends that want to borrov,
I do not wish to see.
—Bost > u Coitrier.
He Misunderstood.—Robinson--‘■'Hpw
^ oes it come that you are always iuMhe
cour ts;” Lawyer—“That’s i busi
ne£S g> Robinson—“Oh, well, IwouhiJ&’t
0 . e £ go touchy about a little th.ug if I
^ ere you.”— Time. „
Baker—“What is the price of flour
‘ -7< Assistant ,^'down “Somewhat hisrh- fJb
rhuckln Well and tell the
man to chuck in more more y 'ea-t ea t. dlr im-.Kmv -'k mv
®J? rs ’ cld -v.nca can i a ei up a c -uer on
v,1 ~ a - 1< ‘” £ b ,u ' ' ’
“Why, T'lrs. Ue ancey, v, hat is the
matter with your daughter ml iorence? done
She looks completely used up
for.” “Oh, she's ail right, 2*Irs. \ aa
Tyke: She has ust grad ur.tC‘1 from
finishing school.’’— Spr,,njj,'<
He knew that she loved him, for v. ; u it was
late ,
And high over the earth st=
As he t: .ok up his hat and stn
gate, asked. “Are going
She you so s on.
— Mercha Traveler.
When Chaplain McCabe was In Fans as
on a tour endeavoring missions, lO r, ,-e heard
„ - fur a ox,
his appeal, and thin km o - lie xarge
sum he* had to iai-e, detent ;e I to he p
him. The first chance he had ia
__
the week he gathered sold a basketful of
chestnuts, whith he for five cents.
He sent this to Mr. McCabe with the
note: “If you want any more let me
know.”— Chicago H ra t.