Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

TfiE DEACON’S PIETY. • rr WAS EQUAL TO ALL OCCASIONS ANO lasted over eighty years. juipendad Religion* Service* Indefinitely to Nor*e the Victim* of a Smallpox Epi demic—An Example In Till* uHe Wee In Devotion to the Flag. Deacon William Trowbridge was a email farmer living near Sheboygan Falla He went there over 50 years ago. Besides tilling a little patch of ground the deacon, who was indeed the very soul of honor and ever had the respect and confidence of all in that commu nity, was in the habit, before regular preachers were sent there, of reading a sermon or exhorting. There was no sham about Deacon Trowbridge's piety. He was sincerity itself. Fifty years ago the little village was visited by a smallpox epidemic—an old fashioned, widespread and spreading epidemic—and they didn’t know how to scotch it as well as they do now. The first Sunday after the dreaded disease made its appearance the deacon’s congregation was quite large. At the end of the servicer he made an announce ment in about these words: “These services will be postponed un til after the smallpox disappears from the community. From this on I shall give my services to the stricken fam ilies. I shall minister to their wants, help to nurse them, and - when they die follow them to the grave. It may be a long term or it may be a short term, but, however long or however short, it is my plain duty to help my distressed neighbors.” 1 The word was well suited to the ac tion which followed. The good old dea con hurried to his home, changed his clothes, bade his family goodby and at once began his work of mercy. What a work it was! The epidemic lasted near ly all winter. Large numbers died. Few in the village escaped the disease. The deacon’s example was followed by oth ers. Men went to their homes, told their wives and children what the deacon had said and was doing, arranged their busi ness, provided fuel and provisions, kissed their dear ones and went to the aid of the unfortunate. Like the deacon they went without reward or hope of reward. Like him they spent weeks and some of them months in that service without daring to go home lest their dear ones catch the disease. The strangest of all this strange ex perience is the fact that neither the dea con, the good souls who imitated his ex ample nor their families were overtaken by the malady, notwithstanding the fact that the watchers, helpers and nurses were almost constantly in the presence •of the suffering patients and notwith standing the fact that they laid out and helped to bury the dead. Nearly half of the deacon’s congrega tion had disappeared when, the next spring, he resumed services in the schoolhouse. It was a sorrowful Sun day. Those in the audience who had not lost members of their family had lost neighbors and dear friends. When the good old Christian had read a chapter, prayed and talked a practical sermon, he referred feelingly to the scenes through which the community had passed. I think every man, woman and child in the room, including the deacon, wept. At the close of the talk he asked all present to join him on their knees in asking that the community might escape such visitations for all time to come. It was a most earnest appeal. I believe that that prayer has been an swered. There may have been a few cases of smallpox there since then, but there has never been an epidemic. The Sunday after Sumter was fired upon, and while Deacon Trowbridge was conducting services in the Baptist church, the denomination to which he belonged for over 80 years, he and his congregation were disturbed by a great commotion in the street right in front of the church. There were beating of drums and sounds of fife much out of tune. It was so uncommon a thing that most of the congregation walked or ran out of the church. Finally the dea con closed the Bible and slowly follow ed his fleeing flock. When outside, he asked the cause of “this unseemly dis turbance on the Lord’s day.” Some one told him that the president had called for soldiers to uphold the honor and the flag of the nation and that they were going to raise a company right then and there. The old deacon’s eyes flashed as he walked out into the street, where a young-fellow was irregularly pounding a bass drum, and said: “Nathan, I j know it is Sunday and that all but the Lord’s work should be abandoned, but the saving of our country and the shielding of its flag from dishonor is the Lord’s work. Give me that drum. ” And that model-of piety strapped on the big drum and went to pounding, greatly outdoing Nathan in two re spects—he made more noise and kept perfect time. He drummed as no one before had never drummed in the little village. As if it had gone on lightning wings, word flew through the commu nity that Deacon Trowbridge had left his pulpit to beat a drum, and on Sunday too. Within half an hour nearly every one in town and many from the outskirts had gathered around the old drummer, all cheering him, and on Sunday too. That night Nathan Cole, who had been relieved as drummer by the deacon, went to Sheboygan with enough men to make up what became Company O of the Fourth Wisconsin.—J. A. Watrous in Chicago Times-Herald. « 1 A Great Find. Lady of the House (to servant girl applying for a situation)—You Were in the service of my friend, Baroness K. Why were you sent away? Servant—Please, ma’am, for listen ing at the doors. Lady—Ah, then I will take you, only you must promise to tell me all you heard. —London Fun. ... . I ♦ I STANDARD TIME. I *■ Fhe Four Section* Into Which tho ) try it Divided. Primarily, for the convenience of the railroads, a standard of time was estab lished by mutual agreement in 1888, by which trains are run and local time reg • ulated. According to this system, the i United States, extending from 65 to 125 degrees west longitude, is divided into four time sections, each of (3 degrees of 1 longitude, exactly equivalent to one hour. The first (eastern) section in cludes all territory between the Atlantic coast and an irregular line drawn from Detroit to Charleston, the latter be ing its most southern point The sec ond (central) section includes all the territory between the last named line and an irregular line from Bismarck to the mouth of the Rio Grande. The third (mountain) section includes all territory between the last named line and nearly the western borders of Idaho, Utah and Arizona. The fourth (Pacific) section covers the rest of the country to the Pacific coast. Standard time is uniform inside each of these sec tions, and the time of each section dif fers from that next to it by exactly one hour. Thus at 19 noon in New York city (eastern time) the time at Chicago (central time) is 11 a. m.; at Denver (mountain time), 10 a. m., and at San Francisco (Pacific time), 9 o’clock a. m Standard time is 16 minutes slower at Boston than true local time, 4 min utes slqwer at New York, 8 minutes faster at Washington, 19 minutes faster at Charleston, 28 minutes slower at De troit, 18 minutes faster at Kansas City, 10 minutes slower at Chicago, 1 minute faster at St Louis, 28 minutes faster at Salt Lake City and 10 minutes faster at San Francisco.—Atlanta Constitution. JONES’ STRATEGY. He Got Hi* New Sult at Half Price by a , * Great Scheme. Jones’ new suit fits beautifully, but he was $lO shy on the price. He needed the suit badly, but his tailor was de cidedly disinclined to part with it till it was paid for. After lying awake all night revolving in his mind various schemes old and new to get possession of the coveted attire Jones evolved a brilliant idea. He put on a high collar two sizes too large for him, went to his tailor and tried on the coat again. Os course it did not fit around the collar and would have to be let out The next day he put on a collar a half size too small and tried it on again. The collar of the coat bulged out in the back as if it had been constructed for the neck of a pugilist. “I can’t wear that thing, ” declared Jones. “It does not fit at all. ” “No, it does not seem to,” admitted the tailor. ‘‘You’ve tinkered with it now till you have nearly ruined it I guess I don’t want it.” “Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do," proposed the tailor, who did not want a misfit left on his hands. “I’ll knock off $5 on the price. ” ‘‘Don’t want a suit that don’t fit,” declared Jones. «. “Well, I’ll make it $10.” “Make it $12.50 and I’ll take it” “All right, but I lose money on it at that ” Jones paid another tailor $1 to have the collar altered, paid for his suit and had $1.50 with which to “wet it ” —San Francisco Post She Won Her Bet. The efficiency of the employees of the Jacksonville postofflee was put to a se vere test recently, the distribut ing clerk came across a photograph with a postage stamp attached and the only direction on it as follows, says the Flor ida Times-Union: ‘‘Deliver to , Jacksonville, Fla.” Several of the employees were shown the picture, which was taken with a small camera, and which did not show the face of the person photographed very distinctly. One of the carriers named Walter G. Coleman, the general traveling agent of the F. C. and P. rail way, was the person. Several of the clerks and carriers did not think that it was intended for Mr. Coleman, while others sided with the Bay street carrier. Finally a wager of |1 was made, and [he carrier started out to deliver it When he reached Mr. Coleman’s office, that gentleman at once claimed tho photograph as one of himself. A week ago or more, while walking along Bay street, he met a young lady with a kodak, who took a snap shot at him in front of the Gardner building. She said that if the picture was a good one she would send jt to him.' It also appears that the young lady won a wager made with her father on the delivery of the photograph to Mr. Coleman with only the directions above. Yellow Alaska Cedar. The durability of this timber is forci bly illustrated by fallen trunks that are perfectly sound after lying in the damp woods for centuries. Soon after these trees fall they are overgrown with moss, in which seeds lodge and germinate and grow up into vigorous saplings, which stand in a row on the backs of their dead ancestors. Os this company of young trees perhaps three or four will grow to full stature, sending down straddling roots on each side and estab lishing themselves in the soil, and after they have reached an age of 200 or a BOO years the downtrodden trunk on which they are standing, when cut into, is found as fresh in the heart as when it fell.—John Muir in Century. i Ho Waa a Bird. Aid (charging furiously up)—Gen eral, tho enemy has captfired our left wing. What shall we do? The Commander—Fly with the other. —Philadelphia Inquirer. There is so much sympathy in this country that very often the under dog becomes a dangerous, impudent cur.— Atchison Globa OF COURSE IT’S TRUE. ■ n' Thta Story of the Lame Hone and tho Young Doctor. “One reads so many stories about ani nrttl intelligence that it would be hazard ous for a doubter to express his disbe lief in almost any-gathering of men at the present day," remarked Dr. W. W. Watkins. ‘‘A little instance came Within my own observation a number of years ago when I was studying med icine and which convinced me that the members of the horse family at least ought to be credited with the possession of ,a very considerable quantity of rea soning power. It was the custom for the students at the medical institution at which I pursued my studies to wear a small badge upon their coats to dis tinguish them from others at the col lege. A horse belonging to the estab lishment was used a great deal about the medical department, and the ani mal seemed to have a special preference for the embryo doctors more than for any other people about the establish ment “One day, while a number of us were gathered in & little knot upon a small campus in the rear of the college,, the animal in question, which used to nip the grass in the location, came toward the group limping very badly. He came to a stop a dozen or more feet from the. crowd and, carefully surveying the lot of us, finally made up his mind as to what he wanted to do and without any hesitation limped directly to my side, whinnied, stuck his nose against my body and held up his left foreleg. Look ing down, I discovered a large nail im bedded in the frog of his hoof. This had evidently caused the lameness. I then realized the interesting fact that the animal desired attendance. I ex tracted the nail with some difficulty, and the horse whimpered with relief and walked away. Rather curious as to why the beast had picked me out to at tend to his wound, I glanced at the boys and found the soluticn to the prob lem. Not one of the group had his med ical badge upon his coat but myself. The horse had recognized the insignia, realized its significance and acted ac cordingly. ” —New Orleans Timea-Dem ocrat. AFRAID OF THE HOODOO. Why tho Street Car Conductor Would Not Cut the Pageant In Twain. A hearse crossed the track and the motoneer put on the brakes so suddenly that the car nearly stood on its nose. Then he sat down on the front seat to await the passing of the long string of carriages following the black draped vehicle. A fat man who had nearly been thrown over the front rail by the sud den stopping of the car snorted angrily: “Why don’t yqu out across? I’ve got to catch a train. I can’t wait here all day." “Can’t "help it, boss. You’ll have to wait and catch another train.” “Well, I’ll report you to tho com pany. That procession will take five minutes in passing us.” “Report away. I can’t help it if the procession takes 20 minutes. You couldn’t hire me to run this car across that funeral procession for the best job on the line. That’s the worst hoodoo a man could run up against." “Bah!" said the fat man. “All right, boss. I know what I’m talking about. One of the best men on this line crossed a funeral procession soon after the trolley system was put in. A live wire dropped on the back of his neck and electrocuted him before he’d gone a block. A little while later another poor fellow cut across back of a hearse. He ran over three children in as many weeks. He quit the road as crazy as a loon. Now the conductor on that same car has lost every cent he had in the world, and his wife and child have died. Bah, yourself! I’d like to see you get off this car and walk across in front of one of those carriages. I’ll bet ydu’d be catchin your last train in this world pretty quick. Jest hop off and try it now. ” But the fat man only shifted uneasily about on the hard car seat and waited silently until the last carriage had passed.—New York Telegram. How Bee* Embalm. Bees, says Horbis, can embalm as successfully as could the ancient Egyp tians. It often happens in damp weather that a slug or snail will enter a bee hive. This is, of course, to the unpro tected slug a case of sudden death. The bees fall upon him and sting him to death at once. But what to do with the carcass becomes a vital question. If left where it is, it will breed a regular pestilence. Now comes in the clever ness of the insects. They set to work and cover it with wax, and there you may see it lying embalmed just as the nations of old embalmed their dead. When it is a snail that is the intruder, be is, of course, impenetrable to their sting, so they calmly cement his shell with wax to the bottom of the hive— imprisonment for life, with no hope of pardon. /. / —— Both Wrong. The Toronto Saturday Night tells of a man who kept a ferret being obliged to go into the country, leaving the cage with the ferret in charge of a neighbor till he should return. The neighbor incautiously opened the cage door, and the ferret escaped, whereupon the owner brought a claim against him for damages. The following was the decision of the learned magistrate before whom the case was brought. “No doubt, ’* he said to the neighbor— “no doubt you were wrong to open the cage door, but”—turning to the owner, “you were wrong too. Why did you not clip the brute’s wings?” The Franks took their name from the ifrancisques, or battleaxes, which they threw with deadly effect Age is a matter of feeling, not of years.—George William Curtis. ‘ —— SHALL THE WALTZ GO! ProfcMon Think Oar PronenoM to Romp Ha* Killed It. The best known dancing masters of New York gave The Journal the follow ing statements of their views conoem ing'the waltz: Professor Augusto Francioli said: “It is true that the waltz as a society dance Is a thing of the past. It will always hold its own so long os dancing is done on the stage. The reason for its disap pearance is the popularity of the min uet, than which thero could not be a more stately or refined dance. My opin ion is that the quality of grace is to be developed to the exclusion of romping, which has nothing but the exhilaration of exercise to recommend it Society people will now affect the minuet and the gavot; will learn to use the arms with grace in the dance and abandon that harum scarum, degenerate, vulgar, ungraceful thing, the nineteenth cen tury waltz and its hoidenish compan ions, the quickstep and polka and the like. “I believe we are to enjoy a renais sance of the beautiful costuming of the middle ages, a necessary accompani ment of the reform in dancing. ” Professor Lawrence Daresaid: “The waltz has become a romp. lam sorry to say it, but I musff put the blame where it belongs, at tho door of the col " lego boy. College boys presume upon the amount of their fathers* money. They claim a freedom that no j gentle man should want They back’ a lady about without fear or favor. I have found in my 20 years’ experience aka dancing master that tho college boy is the one I need to watch in my classes. “He does not realize that the rule of dancing is always to take care of the lady. He violates this by backing her about as though ho were moving fur niture. Go to any college dance to con firm thia So long as the college boy’s rule on the danco floor continues the waltz will be in abeyance. The two step in slower time will be its succes sor. ” Oscar Duryea said: “The two step is the leader. The secret of its success is that it is easy of accomplishment. It requires no art to acquire it. It can be . easily learned in one lesson, while it takes a season or two to thoroughly master the waltz. There is more inspi ration in the musio of the quickstep, because it is quicker, and the American must hurry, even in his amusement A waltz is not such unless it is danced to slow, dreamy music. You cannot hasten the tempo of a waltz without spoiling it The season for the present decadence of the waltz I take to be two fold. Its rival, the two step, is more easily learned and can bo danced with greater rapidity, thus appealing to the American love of rush. ” Professor T. George Dodworth said: ’“The disfavor shown the waltz is due to the romping introduced into it of late years. The two step brought out much boisterousness that was carried into other dances, the waltz among others. The very young set is chiefly responsible for this. There have been those who have always waltzed and danced tho step in a sedate maimer. A great inter est is being shown in the old fashioned, stately dances, as the menuet de la cour, the gavot and the pavane. These were the dances in vogue in the time of the Louis and require much training in grace of arm and body. It is usually more difficult for men than women to accomplish this grace. Classes have been organized especially for the benefit to be derived from practicing these state ly court dances. The interest in these old dances has been more marked in New York. I have been surprised to learn how little interest has been. taken in them in other cities. New York is lead ing in taste for these dances. ” Tennyson’* Religion. It was fortunate, says Mr. Mabie in The Atlantic, that Tennyson’s biography was not prepared by a biographer who was anxious to minimize the religious element in his life. On the contrary, it is thrown into the boldest jrelief, and the reader is let into those profound convictions which gave the laureate’s poetry such depth and spiritual splen dor. The whole subject is dealt with, in connection with “In Memoriam,”. with the most satisfying fullness. “In this vale of time the hills of time often shut out the mountains of eternity, ” Tennyson once said. The nobility of his verse had its springs in those moun tains, and they inclosed and glorified the landscape of life as he looked over it He refused to formulate his faith, but he has given it an expression which is at once definite and poetic, illumin ating and enduring. “I hardly dare name his name,” he writes, “but take away belief in the self conscious person ality of God, and you take away tho backbone of the world. ” And again, “On God and godlike men we build our trust ” A week before his death, his son tells us, he talked long of the personality and love of God—“that God whose eyes consider the poor,” “Whocatereth even for the sparrow.” "For myself,"he said on another occasion, “the world is the shadow of God. ” In his case, as in Wordsworth’s and Browning’s, poetry issued out of the deepest springs 6f be ing, and he made it great by commit ting to it the expression of the highest truth. To a young man going to a university he said, “The love of God is the true basis of duty, truth, reverenqe, loyalty, love, virtue and work,” and he added characteristically, “but don’t be a prig. ” Through his verse, as through his life, there ran this deep current of faith, but the expression of it was free from the taint and distortion of dogmatic or ec clesiastical phrase. A Bade Shock. Uncle George—You’d better take up with Miss Gordon, Harry. They-aay she is worth a million— Harry—You don’t mean it. Uncle George! Uncle Georg*—Of ttit women. Hany—H’m I—Boston Transcript. | ———=■ Q p iffll EcrnOl THAT THE | | f|Ol<lll||L|| FAC _ sIMILE ’I /VegetaMePreparaiionforAs- I .SIGNATURE simUaiing theToodandßeGufet- fl iiqgfheStomachsandßoweisof OF TVomotes’DigesHon.Cfrxrful- Bess and Ffest.Contai ns neither 1 O^mm, Morphine nor Mineral. fl jg THUi WRAPPER I I OF EVEIi' V ■ ' J I BOTTtI J ° K Aperfect Remedy for Constipa- flflb fl| F Q lion. Sour Stomach,Diarrhoea, R BJObEFT’ Worms .Convulsions. Feveris- ■■ 3P ly « M ngK . ness and Loss of Sleep. Ifljiflflßfl d S IPa • I TacSinule Signature of I . . fr NEW YORK. H Oaitcria I* jrat up la bottle* only, It Isl Is not w’d in bulk. Don’t allow aayoeo to *> jfl yon anything e’-.o on the pirn r prmt*c laE 11 "jast as good" end “will answer every por [fl P o9 ®*" ' #J £« that you get C-A-8-T-O-Jt-I-A M Tho he- EXACT COPY OF WRAPPER. ■ Os —GET YOTJH — JOB PRINTING DONE JVT The Morning Call Office. We have just supplied our Job Office with a complete line oi (Stationer* j kinds and can get up, on short notice, anything wanted in tife way or LETTER HEADS, BILL HEADS. STATEMENTS, • IRCULARB, ■ • .a' j?*•£ ENVELOPES, NOTES, MORTGAGES, PROGRAMS, JARDB, posters DODGERS, ETC., ETL f * r We trry Ue best ine of ENVEIjOFEH tm jlhre£ : IhistnSto. - - . Aa ailraciivc FOSTER cl any size can be issued on short notice , Our prices for work of all kinds will compare favorably with those obtained ro» any office in the state. When you want job printing of’any-dee<ripticD uve ut call Satisfaction guaranteed. ALL WORK DONE With Neatness and Dispatch. ■ Out of town orders will receive prompt attention -J J. P. & S B. SawtelL CENTRAL IF GEiCH iir CO. Schedule in Effect Jan. 9,1898. 'Ko. 4“ No. ii ~ SSiJ Slihi 1 rnSfr Dally. Dally. Daily. | *tatiom- Daily, umy- TsOpm 4Mpu> TMamLv ; A,la £? k B«pm 4 47pm B«am Lv J one. boro Ar •15 piu saopm 9 07am Lv ■ Aj !}!£? ISS • 45inn 605 pm Ho»mAr Bornerrille *7 40pm+ir6pm Ar 1h0mMt0n........ Lv tt 00 pm Yt 00 M* lOlspm 631 pm 10 12am Ar Forsytk Lv 514 pm 8 50am 1110 pm 720 pm 1110 am ArMaconLv 415 pm BWam Ul9am 810 pm 1208 pm Ar K ,Mp “4*nS! *8 50 pm +lls pm ArMilledgevilleLv M 8 0"“ 111 am 130 am , 117pfcArTennille ... 1158 i« saJEmAS tVszoJm 8 40pS •00 am 6 00 pm ArSavannahl»v B«aie j •Dolly, fexoept Sunday. - , Train for Newnan and CarroUton leavesGrifln at 9«s am,and Sunday. Betnrnlnir. arrives In Griffin IS) p m and 12 40 p m dally except Bunaay. further information apply to C. 8. WHITB, Ticket Agyt. Griffin. Qa. * t J. c. HAILB. Gen. Paaeeneer Aaent, H. H. HINTON. TraMo Manarer. Savaamh, Go, * ,: