Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

—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.