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STRIKING INCIDENT'S.
SCENES THAT WERE PHQTOGRAP-lEfr
ON THE MEMORY.
T»* Professor Heard Governor Bron«h
Mak.HU U.t Speech With Head Bared.
General Buell and the Sergeant erased
t With Thirst at the Spring.
“Some of you youngsters, ” said the
professor, "wonder how we old fellows
remember the prominent men of 20 or
80 or 40 years ago so well. Because we
associate them with some particular
event, not necessarily of any impor
tance, but serving to bring the men as
sociated with it vividly before the
mind. For example, I saw old Govern
' at Brough of Qmo scores of times, but
whenever I think of him I do not see
him as he walked in his unwieldy way
along the streets nor as he sat in his
office, a dominating presence, nor as he
appealed on state occasions, nor when
he raged in controversy with the stron
gest men in the nation over the conduct
of the war, but I see him as he stood
one night on a pile of bricks, just out
side Capitol square in Columbus.
"The fall of Richmond had been an
nounced. The people were wild with
excifement and enthusiasm. The under
standing was that the governor would
speak to them that night, and, standing
on a pile of bricks at the comer of High
and State streets, he talked to the peo
ple of the great news and what it meant
to the nation. While he was speaking
it began to rain, and still he spoke on.
Those in the crowd who had umbrellas
raised them, and there was a general
shout for the governor to put on his hat.
As he stood there that minute, with the
raindrops pattering down on his bald
head and splattering and sparkling in
the light of the street lamp near, Gov
ernor Brough always comes tb me.
"He paid no heed to the rain, and in
his deep, resonant voice he said to the
calls of the crowd: ‘I will not put on
my hat. A man must stands uncovered
in the presence of an event that means
so much to this people. ’ And he talked
on, the people standing in the rain and
glorying in every word he said. That
was the last speech made by Governor
Brough, because the cold that resulted
from the exposure took him down to
'death.
"Brough was one of the very strong
est men of that period in publio life,
but do you know that I heard one of
the most prominent ladies in Ohio urge
that he be not renominated because he
was so reckless in his use of tobacco?
She forgot the ability, honesty, earnest
ness and zeal of the man who had re
ceived the largest majority ever given a
candidate for any office in Ohio and
made a violent campaign against him
because he had a rough way and because
he was such an inveterate tobacco
chewer.”
"I remember General Buell,” said
the sergeant, "not as he appearaed in
the battle of Shiloh, not as he appeared
in full uniform at grand review, but as
I saw him on a forced march, when he
wore the negligee or fatigue dress. Our
company had come, with dry throats
and empty canteens, to a large spring
that burst from the earth with force
enough to turn the wheels of a mill.
The men proceeded to fill their canteens
and drink their fill. An orderly sat on
his horse near and advised the men to
be very careful in filling their canteens
so as to leave the water clear for those
who came after. A little apart from
him on a splendid horse sat an officer in
a straw hat. The man and the horse,
even though the man was in so simple
a dress, made a fine picture, but the
boys did not look carefully enough at
either to recognize the officer or the
horsa
“One of the sergeants, crazed by
thirst, plunging forward to the spring,
intent only on getting the clear water
to his parched throat, put one foot into
the shallow edge of the spring. Instant
ly there came from the man in the straw
hat the quiet and imperious order, ‘Take
I your foot out. ’ The sergeant, irritated
beyond endurance by what he regarded
a trifling matter, turned and said inso
lently: ‘Mind your own business, sir.
I will have no quartermaster’s clerk
giving orders to me. ’
"As though he had been a part of the
man the splendid horse made one jump
toward the spring and toward the ser
geant, and the-' man in the straw hat
said, with increased emphasis and im
periousness, ‘Take your foot out,’and
the bewildered sergeant recognized the
commander in chief of the army. He
stopped back and saluted, and then Gen
eral Buell said quietly, looking down
with a sort of sympathy into ihe dis
mayed face: ‘Fill your canteens, but
be careful. Thirty thousand men must
take water from this spring before
night. ’
"Those who remembered what a
mudhole a thousand men make of a
spring understood why General Buell
stood guard on that day.”—Chicago
Inter Ocean.
A Use For It.
"And now," said the banker, when
j they had entered the private office and
closed the door, “what can I do for
yon?”
The sinister looking stranger drew
from his pocket a glass vessel securely
corked, containing a yellowish liquid.
“I want money,” he said,.“and I
must havq it If I were to drop this
glass on the floor and break it, both of
us would be blown into a thousand
pieces.”
The banker scribbled an address upon
a card.
“Take that thing up to my house, ”
ne said, “and turn it over to our new
servant girl, and then name your price. ”
—Strand Magazine.
Theater Chat.
He—ln China a play is six months
long.
- She—Dear me, what a lot of good
shoe leather you save in not being there
to go out between acts!—Exchange.
WHAT SHE NEGLECTED.
Ho Was a Student of Human Nature, and
He Caught Her.
Albert Bloodgood gased long and
earnestly into bis young wife’s eyes. It
was evident that serious doubts had
taken possession of him. He had been
married to Sylvia Bloodgood for three
days and bad thought that he was hap
py, but now, aa she sat beside him in
the saloon of the plunging steamer, a
horrible thought suddenly forced itself
upon him.
The sweet girl who had given her life
into his keeping noticed that something
was out of whack with him, and, look
ing up, more as an innocent child would
look at a parent than as a wife contem
plating the features of her husband, she
asked:
“Doesn’t ’oom love ’oor ’ittle darlie
any more? Tell me, darling, what it is
that troubles you. Don’t try to conceal
it from ’oor ’ittle lovey dovey. You
know I’m so wise I can see everything.
You told me so yesterday, when I guessed
What you had in that pretty jewel box
for me, ’ ’
He sighed and said:
“Ah, sweetness, I don’t know whether
I ought to impart my thoughts to you
or not Perhaps lam borrowing trouble.
But I have, as you know, always been
of a studious disposition. I have studied
men and women, and I have been wont
to think that I knew human nature.”
"Yes,” she urged, becoming inter
ested; “goon.” - -
“Well, either my observations and
deductions have been wrong or you
don’t love me an-a wife should love her
husband.”
"Oh, Albert,”, the sweet girl cried,
flinging her arms around his neck and
sobbing pitifully, “what has caused you
to form this cruel, cruel opinion? What
has ’oor 'ittle darlie done to arouse
such a suspicion?”
"It isn’t wbatjrou have done, ” he re
plied, “but what you have not done,
that worries me.”
She drew back in wild fear and
waited for him to proceed.
"Yes,” he went on, “it is what you
have neglected that has caused these
doubts to take possession of me. Here
We’ve been married for three days, and
you have not yet asked me to solemnly
declare that I never really loved until I
came to know you. ”
With a guilty look she slunk away to
her stateroom, for she knew that she
had forever forfeited the right to claim
his confidence. —Cleveland Leader.
HERRING BOATS.
Their Peculiar Rig One of Them Sall*
From Cornwall to Australia.
The fleets of herring fishing boats sail- ,
ing out of the ports of Great Britain
are grand seagoing craft, strong and
swift, and able to stand the stormiest
weather. They are usually rigged with
two stumpy masts and carry enormous
square lugsails, which have to be low
ered and raised every time tfie boats
“come about.” In Scotland and the
English and Irish ports they are called
luggers, but in the isle of Man have
■ the local name of “nickies. ”
In many . cases the crews own the
boats, each man having a share, but in
any case the fishermen have an interest
in the amount of fish sold and are {laid
according to results. It is a glorious
sight to see these boats racing home aft
er a good haul, the first boat.in having
the best market for the fish.
It is not uncommon at Tarbot, the
headquarters of the Loch Frone boats;
Peel, in the isle of Man; Penzance, in
Cornwall, and at some Irish ports to
see the fish taken away by cartloads to
be used by the farmers for manure at
times when an unusually big catch has
oversupplied the market.
In many places during the summer
there are races organized by the towns
people and visitors for these luggers,
and the interest in the events is far
more keen than in the finest yacht
races. Only recently a Penzance lugger
was sailed by her crew to Australia,
and made the passage in wonderfully
quick time. The large boats are manned
by from 20 to 30 men, the weight of
the lugsails making a big crew a neces
sity. In most cases the sails are stained
a reddish brown, and distinguishing let
ters and numbers on the sail tell to
what port the craft belongs. New
York Sun.
Making It Easy.
Old John S was a rural postman
in a west country district and in a
rather rough fashion was also an ama
teur dentist. On his rounds one day be
met a certain farmer about to start for
a six mile ride to town for the purpose
of getting an aching tooth drawn. On
seeing old John, however, the farmer,
distracted with pain, determined to test
the old man’s skill as a tooth puller. A
pair of somewhat rusty pliers was pro
duced, and after a few tugs the tooth
was held up for the farmer to see, who
exclaimed:
“Why, John, you’ve drawn the wrong
tooth! That is a sound one!”
“I know that, maister,” said John,
“but now I can get at the other handi
er.” —Pearson’s Weekly.
Walter Besant’* Tribute to America.
Sir Walter Besant, the eminent Eng
lish novelist, said, when he went back
to England after a visit here, that noth
ing he saw in America impressed him
so deeply as the devotion of our young
people to their flag; that nowhere ex
cept among British soldiers had he seen
such affection and respect for a national
emblem, and that a nation which as a
whole felt as we seemed to feel about
our colors from the time we left our
mothers’ knees, was one thut could
withstand the "whole world in arms.—
Charles Sydney Clark in St. Nicholas.
The London Spectator says 1,000 of
the Irish constabulary with rifles would
restore the worst mob of Constantinople
to comparative sanity in ten minutes.
The intellect has only one failing,
which, to be sure, is a very considerable
one. It has no conscience.—LowelL
KING OF PICKPOCKETS.
uh. . .. , ■■Ha.ll-
Death of the Man Who Filched the Purre
of the Prince of Wale*.
Fred H, king of pickpockets, has just
passed away In London. Like his prede
cessor, Fred II was well known on the
turf both in England and in France, and
whenever a turfman’s pocketbook was cap
tured by any of his majesty’s outposts an
audience with the monarch was all that
was necessary to secure its prompt return
to the lawful owner. People not connect
ed with the turf were lees fortunate.
The ministers of his majesty performed
some marvelous tours de force in their
very profitable profession, but not one of
them had the delicacy of touch and power
of penetration that made the king famous.
One day ho made a bet that he would pick
the pocket of the Prince of Wales. The
thing seemed to be absolutely impossible,
because many of the prince’s friends knew
Fred very well and the difficulty of get
ting close enough to him to capture his
pocketbook seemed insurmountable. But
it was a simple matter for the king. He
picked the prince’s pocket and won hie
bet. The tics of royalty are great and
strong. The king returned the pocketbook
to the prince, and the latter, of course,
could not think of prosecuting a king.
He laughed at the joke and complimented
Fred on his skill as a pickpocket.
A pastime that Fred took special delight
in was filching the watches and pocket
books of magistrates and high officials of
the police, and the stories of his exploits
In this line are many. He was always
dressed in the latest fashion. He had good
taste in the matter of clothes and always
avoided everything loud. He was a good
looking fellow too. .
But kings cannot reign forever, and the
reign of Fred II ended rather in gloriously.
It was ambition that ruined him. He
wanted to perform an exploit in the pocket
picking line that would eclipse all his
previous performances. He determined to
relieve Baron Hirsch of the burden of his
heavily loaded purse. He approached the
philanthropist in his usual courtly way,
but unfortunately for the king the baron
recognized him immediately.
“My dear Fred,” said he, “you have
come too late. I have just lost all my
money on the favorite. Be good enough
to honor me with your attention another
day, and be sure to come before the race.”
Fred saluted With great dignity and de
parted, and after that began to go down
hill. He soon after abdicated and lived a
retired life in a little house in one of the
suburbs of London. His star had set. He
became sad and looked back upon the van?
ities of fat pocketbooks. Little by little
he faded and died of a disease which his
French doctor called “nostalgic du vol,”
or the rust that in his profession follows
rest
Just as in the case of the funeral of an
other king of pickpockets many curiosity
seekers attended the funeral of Fred, and
upon feeling for their money and jewelry
after returning home discovered that they
had, in fact, been at a pickpocket’s fu
lieral. Professional fingers had been set
working in honor of the dead. A modern
, Dick Turpin, Fred was good natured,
fond of children and generous with the
money of other people. His bank account
was never overdrawn, and' he never had
any hesitation about helping a poor fellow
out. A few shillings or a few pounds to
him amounted to nothing. There were
always plenty of available pocketbooks to
call upon whenever ho was short.—New
York Sun. ’•
Highly Developed Sense of Smelling.
Why should it lie considered strange that
an animal depending on its nose as much
as the dog does should be able to distin
guish one scent from another when man
kind can do the same to fully as delicate a
degree? A friend of mine told me he could
lean over a kettle of boiling glue stock
(horrible smelling stuff) and distinguish
any perfume from any other on a handker
chief. Julia Brace (deaf-blind) could as
sort the clothing of her fellow pupils after
coming from the wash by smelling it
Linnie Haguewood (another deaf-blind
girl) knows every dish on the table on
coming into the room. James Mitchell (a
deaf-blind man who died about 1880) rec
ognized his friends by their smell, and
even formed his likes or dislikes of stran
gers by that means. The Rev. M. B.
Wynne wrote me that his young brother
in-law could always tell whether a rabbit
was in its burrow by smelling at the open
ing.
The deaf blind always display this ex
treme delicacy of scenting powers (except,
of course, in such cases as Laura Bridge
man, Ragnhild Kaata, Willie Caton, etc.,
where the senses of taste and smell were
destroyed by the disease which ruined
their sight and hearing), and it would
seem that they only appreciate distinctions
which those in possession of all their senses
neglect. I know that doctors will say that
the organ of smell is but vestigial in man,
while fully developed in dogs, but no
trained man tracking hound ever displayed
more delicate ‘ ‘ nose’ ’ than Julia Brace did,
and a stubborn fact like that counts strong,
regardless of what anatomy says.—Forest
and Stream.
The Stone Age In British Columbia.
When I arrived on this coast in 1854,
the Indians generally made and used im
plements of stone, such as arrow and
spear points, knives, adzes and axes, and
continued to make and use them for years
after that The materials they used were
chert, jade, a black and gray slate and a
dark and gray basalt. I think I may have
seen the process of making these articles
when I first came here, but am not cer
tain. However, I know pretty well how
they were mode, at least by the Indians in
habiting this island. A black bearskin
was spread on the ground with the hair
side down. Then a flake of chert, of jade
or of basalt, first roughed out by striking
two pieces together, was held on the bear
skin between the fingers and chipped into
shape with another stone or a bone by
gradual pressure. In this Way they soon
formed very perfect arrowheads, some hav
ing points as sharp as a needle.
The base of the weapon was worked out
by simple pressure, then inserted in the
cleft shaft and securely held in its place
with pitch, asphaltum or a glue made of
fins of the halibut. The larger spearheads
were usually made of slate, split into
flakes, worked out and then rubbed until
polished. Their adzes and axes were made
of chert, jade or, basalt, and were of vari
ous shapes and sizes. Some of them were
finely finished and polished, while others
were rough and ill formed. One class of
them were evidently made to be used by
holding in the hand, but the great gnajor
ity of them had handles of some descrip
tion.—Antiquarian.
-- • '
Food Wrapped la Paper.
Articles of food that are damp or juicy
should never be left in papers Paper is
merely a compound of rugs, glue, lime
and similar substances, with acids and
chemicals intermingled, and when damp
is unfit to touch things that are to be eaten.
HELEN KELLER’S WORK.
She Raised Money For the Edneatloo of a
Boy AflUotod Like Herself.
An affecting story is tnld by William T.
Ellis in St Nicholas under the title of
“Helen Keller and Tommy Stringer.”
Mr. Ellis says:
A little child lived in black silence.
There never was midnight so dense as the
tarkness that enveloped his mind. Sight
and hearing were gone utterly and for
ever. The child knew absolutely nothing,
except that sometimes from somewhere
something put food into his mouth and
moved him about when necessary. His
world was limited by as much of his little
erib as he could feel with his sad
by the touch of this something that cared
for his wants.
The merest babe knows the sunlight
and its mother’s voice and face. Five
years had passed over this little boy as he
lay on his hospital cot, but he knew less
than a mopth old infant—less indeed than
the least of the beasts of the field. He was
completely shut up in a living tomb of
flesh, with no communication between
himself and the great world about him.
Yet within that prison was a healthy
brain, open to all the possibilities of life.
Since the terrible sickness that had camo
to him in Infancy, little Tommy Stringer
had lain thus among strangers. His
mother was dead. His father could not
help him. From his birthplace in Wash
ington, Pa., the helpless sufferer had been
removed to a hospital in Alleghany. But
no Institution wanted this troublesome
charge, who would require the constant
attention of a teacher. So the almshouse
seemed the only haven for Tommy. There
at least he could And a shelter.
But it was net to be so. Light was
ahead—the glorious light of knowledge.
One who had been similarly shut in by
the walls of a triple affliction was to lead
Tommy Stringer out Into the bright light
that she herself enjoyed. It was during
the summer of 1890 that the news of
Tommy’s sad plight came to Helen Koller.
The sensitive soul of this 10-year-old girl
was deeply affected. She, if no one else,
would save the poor boy. ;
Thenceforth Tommy became the burden
of Helen’s thought and conversation. She
talked about him to her friends. She
wrote letter upon letter asking aid for
him. At this time occurred a pathetic in
cident that was the means of turning to-
■ ward the little blind boy tho kindly inter
i est and generous gifts that accomplished
i his rescue.
Tho pet and playmate of Helen when
i she was at home was a beautiful New
i foundland dog. Through a foolish blun
der, this animal was shot by a policeman,
i When the news came to Helen, she had no
word of reproach, but simply said, with
* beautiful charity, “I am sure they never
’ could have done it if they had only known
I what a dear, good dog Lioness was. ”
The story of her love was published
’ widely, and from far and near—even from
■ across the ocean—camo to Helen offers of
> money or another deg. The little girl had
i only one answjMMto all these kind expres
sions. „-j£>ho wtufiyrateful, but she did not
i care for another dog to take the place of
> Lioness. Nevertheless the gift would be
. accepted, if the donor so desired, on behalf
of a little deaf, dumb and blind boy, for
i whom she was trying to raise money
> enough to bring him to Boston to be edu-
> cated. - ■
r In every direction Helen sent this mes
sage, always in a specially written person
al letter that was marked by the sweet
simplicity and remarkable ability of the
& author. For a long time these letters
i averaged eight a day, and a marvelously
* versatile and eloquent little pleader Helen
■ showed herself. She also wrote for news
k paper articles addressed to children, as
I well as general appeals—never any two
: precisely alike. Helen instituted'for her
i self a rigorous course of self denial (absti-
* nonce from soda water and other prized
- luxuries), that she might save money for
* her one great object. The result of all this
effort was the securing of sufficient funds
I to insure Tommy at least two years of ed
-1 ucation at the Kindergarten For the Blind,
i Jamaica Plain, Mass.
1 Superstitious Songstress.
Jessie Bartlett Davis acknowledges to
1 being a little bit superstitious—just a lit
‘ tie bit. She tells the following story to a
“ Boston Herald man of her belief in the in
fluence of a song: “I believe in luck, yes,
and do you know that an old ballad and a
* favorite one with mo has always been the
means of bringing mo lucky results? The
‘ song is a chestnut, but it procured me
every good engagement I ever had; it is
’ ‘Sweet Genevieve.’
‘ “I went to see Mr. Davis when he was
* manager of the Chicago Church Choir
3 company. I wanted more money than I
3 was getting, and I applied for an engage
" ment. I sang ‘Sweet Genevieve,’ and got
< the part of Little Buttercup. I frequently
’ sang it by request, and Mr. Davis fell in
1 love with the song and married the singer.
» When the American Opera company was
> getting into shape, I went to see Theodore
1 Thomas, and when he said he would like
to hear something I knew how to sing I
gave him ‘Sweet Genevieve.’ ‘Well,’ he
said, ‘any girl who can sing a love song
, like that can sing In American opera, * and
- he engaged me. When I applied for an
1‘ engagement in the Mapleson Grand Opera
1 company, Mr. Mapleson made an appoint
s ment for me to meet Mme. Patti, and I
9 gave her ‘Sweet Genevieve.’ She heard
a me through the whole song, and applaud
e ed by clapping my face between her two
s hands. Mr. Barnabee admitted me to my
- present position on the strength of .the
<f lamented Genevieve, and he pays me the
mischievous compliment of getting out his
a handkerchief every time I sing it. Os
r course he only does it to break me up, but
e I shall sing ‘Sweet Genevieve’* till my
g -Voice cracks. ”
o Leopold and Victoria.
y The king of the Belgians has the roputa
-1 tlon of being the gayest monarch in Europe
* and is consequently regarded with consid
erable disfavor by Queen Victoria. On
t one occasion last spring, however, accord -
0 ing to an English exchange, when tho
o king was lunching with her majesty at
f Cimiez, he revenged himself for the sever
-8 ity of his hostess* manner by retailing an
3 anecdote which, although excruciatingly
1 funny, was decidedly improper. . The
0 queen preserved her countenance during
* the rest of the meal, but it is recorded that
0 during her customary afternoon drive her
8 majesty’s smile was more than usually
* radiant £
Where Fide Voices Are Found.
- Fine voices are seldom found in a coun
try where fish or meat diet prevails. Those
Italians who eat the most fish (those ot
Naples and Genoa) have few fine singers
f among them. The sweet voices are found
9 in the Irish women of the country and not
B of the towns. Norway is not a country of
1 singers because they eat too much fish,
□ but Sweden is a country of grain and
song. Tho carnivorous birds croak. Grain
* j eating birds sing.
« 5 T/f kinr CT A XKJfTTiyr
fCffilMTO B gvbil oJ intflq oi emit
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Schedule in Effect Dec. 12, 1897.
’ 12 No."* “ " ffo-1 fexg jSSs/iM
, Dally. Daily. Dally. sranona. Dally. Dally- Daily.
r IjOpm 406 pm 780 am LV..7.7. .7UU7. Atlanta TBjanSui
BMpm 4 45pm 8 28am LvJonesboroAr eß2pm 10Mass {j*”
180am +85Opm liTpre Ar.\*.’.‘.":.'.‘.';
( <ooam 800 pm Ar.. Savannah Xar »4i—l
•Dally, texcept Sunday. -
> Train for Newnan, Qurrollton and-Cedartown leaves OriMn at •» am, and 1 s»
dally except Sunday. Beturnlmr, arrives ia GrtMn »Kp m. and 12 «p m dally exo«F»
Sunday. For further information apply to .
p, 1 Ua,
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K. H. HINTON, Truffle Manager. Savaßnah, Ge. .