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larly from the post nffiee—whether directed
to his name or another’s, or whether he has
subscribed or not—is responsible for the
pavnjent,
2. If a person ordeis his paper discontin
ued, he must pay all arrearages, or ihe pub
lisher may continue to send it until payment
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vhether the paper Is taken from the offiee or
n it.
3. The courts have decided that refusing
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tional frand.
TOWN DIRECTORY.
M ayor —Thomas G. Barnett.
<’ommi««ionf.rs—W.VV. rnmip*eed,D. B.
Bivins. K G. Harris, E. 41. James.
<’i.krk—K. G. Harris.
Trhasurkr—W. S. Shell.
Marshals —S. A. Bolding, Marshal.
J. W. Johnson, Deputy.
CHURCH DIRECTORY.
Mktwodtst Kpisoopal Church, (Konth.)
Rev. Wesley F. Smith, F’astor Fourth
Sabbath in each month. Sunday-school 3
p. m. Prayer meeting WedHWMhy*(!thning.
VlKriionrsT Protrstant Church. First
Sabbath in each month. Sunday-school 9
A. M.
Christian Church, W. S. Fears, Pastor.
Second Sabbath io jsacli luoßth.
Baptist Church, Rev. «T. P. T.von, Pas*
tor. Third Sabbath in eacli month.
CIVIC SOCIETIES.
Pina Grovk Fxidor, No. 177. F. A. M
Slated communications, fourth Sat unlay in
each month.
*lOl TOH"
.SALOON
t (In rear of D. B. Bivins’,)
HAMPTON, GEORGIA,
IS KEPT BY
CHARLIE MCCOLLUM,
And is open from 4 o’clock in the morning
until 10 o’clock at night.
Bead Liquors of dl Blades
And at prices to suit averybody.
If yon want good branch Corn Whiskey,
go to the Bon Ton.
If.yon want Peach Brandy, from one to
live years oid, call at the Bon Ton.
If yon want good Gin go the Bon 1 on and
pet a drink at 5 ceuts or a dime, just as yoj
want it.
It you want a pood smoke go to the Bon
Ton and get a free cigar.
Ice always on hand at the Bon Ton.
Nice Lemon Brinks always on hand at the
Bon Ton.
f * '
NOT THE LARGEST, BUT THE
BE SI SELECTED STOCK OF
LIQUORS IS TOWS.
1 have just opened my Salooo and am de
termined io make it a success.
Fair dealing and prompt attention to ail.
Cali and see, call and sample, Call and price,
before baying elsewhere.
THE VICTORY.
They reach d the little gate ; he stood
Amid the shadows, hut the sun
That moment sent a glorious flood
Of light upon the path that led
Up to her door, lie sighing said,
•‘Our future seems to be begun."
And open wide he threw the gate,
“The sunshine longs for you, and so
Walk in the light; why do you wn t?”
Her face with crimson blushes dyed,
Like one with sudden hush she cried :
“Do you not know ? l>o you not know ?”
“Your path with summer bloom is bright.
And mine is cold and dark,” he cried.
“I may not so your love requite,
I.may not bid you go with me;
Oh. love, dear love, you still arc free,
And still the gate isopen wide.”
And song and bloom and beauty cull,
‘(’orae back, all pleasures wait
Here in the light!” Above it all
•She only heard her own heart’s cries—
She only saw bis pleading eyes—
V\ ith quick, firm hand she closed the gate.
The shadows have no dread for her,
And once more Love is conqueror.
Aurelia's Unfortunate Young
Man.
The facts in the following ease come to
me by letter from tryming Indy who lives in
the beautiful city of Son-Tose ; she Is per
fectly unknown to me, and simply signs her
self “Aurelia Maria,” which may, possibly,
he a fictitious name. But no matti r. The
poor girl is almost heart broken by the mis
fortunes she has undergone, anil sn confused
by the conflicting counsels of misguided
friends and insidious enemies, that she does
not know what course to pursue in order to
extricate herself from the web of difficulties in
which she seems almost hojieles.sly involved.
In this dilemma, she turns to me for help,
and supplicates for my guidance and instruc
tion with a moving eloquence that would
touch the heart of a statue. Hear her sad
* j •
She sayp, that when she was sixteen years
old. she met, and loved, with all the devotion
of a passionate nature, a young man from
New Jersey, named Williamson Breckin
ridge Carat hers, who was some six years her
senior. They were engaged, with the free
consent of their friends and relatives ; ■ and
for a time, it s#med as if their career was
destined to be characterized bv an immunity
from sorrow beyond the usual lot of human
ity. But at last the tide ot fortune turned.
Young Cnnithers became infected with
small-pox of the most virulent type ; and
when he recovered from his illness, his face
was pitted like a wnffl ’-mould, and his come
liness gone forever. Aurelia thought to
break off the engagement at first ; but pity
for her unfortunate lover caused her to post
pone the marriage-day for a season, and
give him another trial.
The very day before the wedding was to
have taken place, Breckinridge, while ab
sorbed in watching the flight of a balloon,
walked into a well, and fractured one of his
legs; and it had to be token off above the
knee. Again Aurelia wns moved to break
the engagement ; but again love triumphed ;
and she set the day forward, and gave him
another chance to reform.
And again misfortuue overtook the un
happy youth. He lost one arm by the
premature discharge of a fourth of July
cannon, and, within three montk , be got the
other pulled out by a carding-rrachine.
Aurelia’s heart was almost crushed by these
calamities. She could not but be deeply
grieved to see her love passing from her by
piecemeal, feeling as she did, that h° could
not last forever under this disastrous process
of reduction, yet knowing of no way to stop
its dreadful career, and, in her tearful des
pair, she almost regretted, like brokers who
hold on and lose, that she had not taken him
at first, before be bad suffered such an
alarming depreciation. Still'her brave soul
bore her up, and she resolvi d to bear with
her frieud’s unnatural disposition yet a little
longer.
Again the wedding day npproacbed, and
again disappointment overshadowed it.
Caruthers fell ill with the erysipelas, and lost
the use of one of his eyes entirely. The
Iriends and relatives of the bride, considering
that she had already pat op with more than
conld reasonably be expected -of her, now
came forward, and insisted that the match
should be broken off Bat, after wavering
a while, Aurelia, with a generous spirit which
did her credit, said she bad n fleeted calmly
npoo the matter, and could not discover that
Breckinridge was to blame.
So she extended the time once more, and
he broke his other leg.
It was a sad day lor the poor girl, when
HAMPTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1879.
try previous experience, and her heart told
her the hitter truth that some more of her
lover wa= gone. She felt that the field of
her affections was growing more and circum -
“eribed every day; but on"e more she
frowned down her relatives, and renewed her
betro'hal.
Shortly before the time set for <he nup
tials. another dicaster occurred There was
but one man scalped by the Owens River
Indi ns last year. That man wa« William
son Breckinridge Oaruthers of New Jorsey.-
He was hurrying home with happiness in
his heart, when he lost his hair fo ever ; and
in that hour of bitterness he almost cursed
the mistaken mercy that had spared bis
head.
At last Aurelia is in serious perplexity ns
to wlmt she ought to do. She still loves
her Breckinridge, she writes, with true
womanly feeling—she still lov>« what is left
of him. But her parents are bitterly op
posed to the match, heenupe he has no
property, and is disabled from working, and
she has no sufficient means to support com
fortably. "Now, what should she do?” she
a*ks with painful and anxious solicitude.
It is a delicate question ; it is one which
involves the life-long happiness of a woman,
and that of nearly two-thirds of n man, and
I feel that it would be assuming too great a
responsibility to do more than make a mere
suggestion in the case. How would it do
to build to him ? If Aurelia can afford the
expense, let her furnish her mutilated lover
with wooden arms and wooden legs, and a
glass eye and a wig. and give him another
show : give him ninety days, without grace,
and, if he doe 9 not break his neck in the
mean time, marry him, and take the chances.
It dors not seem to me that there is much
risk, anyway, Aurelia, because, if he sticks
to his infernal prospensity for damaging
himself every time he secs a good oppor
tunity, his next experiment is hound to
finish him, and then you are all right, you
know, married or single. If married, the
wooden legs, and such other valuables as he
may possess, revert to the widow, and you
ished fragment of a uuble but must unfortu
nate hushßiid, who honestly strove to do
right, but whose extraordinary instincts
were against him. Try it, Maria! I have
thought the matter over carefully and well,
and it is the only chance I see for you. It
would have been a happy conceit on the
part of Oaru'hers, if he had started with his
neck, and broken that first; hut since he bus
seen fit to choose a different policy, and
string himself out as long as possible, I do
not think wc ought to upbraid him for it,
if he has enjoyed it. We must do the best
we can under the circumstances, and try not
feel exasperated at him. Mark 1 wain.
The Long Journey.
She cime into the depot with her hands
full of daisies—pure daisies that fairly
brought with them a whiff of the fresh
country air. A knot of them was pinned
at her throat, and a garland of them twined
round the little coquettish sundown hat,
which only half hid a sweet face, that looked
for all the world like a daisy, too.
A tall young man was with her, and the
two were laughing and talking, seeming to
enjoy themselves so heartily that I felt an
envious thrill pass over me.
They came and sat down just under me.
and I heard him whisper :
“ Ettie, you are going away to begone
four long weeks. Mind you don’t forget.”
“Oh, Harry, what on idea !” and her sil
very laugh rang out.
“But, Ettie,” he said, sadly, “do you know
I dread this parting. I dieamed last night
tliat you had gone off on a long journey
never to come back again, and 1 was, ob, so
lonely.”
The tender blue eyes dropped, and a deep
blush dyed her fieacb-colored cheeks
“So you’d miss me, Hairy?” she whis
pered ; “I’m glad, for I couldn’t forget you ;
no, not even in eternity ! ’
“God bless you for those words, Ettie,”
he said huskily.
“Passengers for the train going North !”
shouted the conductor.
He snatched her traveling bag and they
followed the crowd out. .As ho helped her
aboard the train I saw her smile and hand
him one of her daisies, which be pinned in
the button-hole of his coat after the train
was out of sight, and weßt away whistling
an old love song.
******
It came flashing over the wires—" Horr
ible accident I Train going North collided
with B Express ! Send help !”
There was great consternation and rush
ing to and fro Anxious Iriends gathered
in crowdf to receive the news from the dis
aster. Some
low tones. Conspicuous among them I saw
Hurry’s tall form. I knew he was waiting
to hear from Kttie. He still wore the white
daisy she had given him.
How the hours dragged I I felt as if I
must go faster. I skipped five minutes and
struck four Then I thought, this won’t
bring them any quicker, and stopped dead
still for the next five.
At last I heard a faint whistle.
"That’s the Fire-bug,” said Simmons to the
Jacket ageut, who was standing near. I un
derstood instantly that it was the locomotive
that had been sent up. We should soon
know the worst. Harry heard the whistle,
too, for I noticed him tremble and shut his
white lips closer together.
Slowlyshe came in, bearing her burden of
dead and wounded. I saw them lifted one
by one from the cars. I heard the sobs and
groans of the friends, and the cries of joy
when one l came forth unhurt
Hnrry tried to force his way info tho car.
“Stand hack! You cannot enter,” cried
the officifl.
He drew back.
They Rfted an old woman out; and then
—I tried to cover my face wi'h mv hands,
hut they would not shut out the sight. A
stained white robe, a crushed sundown hat,
with soiled blue ribbon and the daisies at
her breast—the pure daisies that lifted their
leads toward heaven that morning, now all
covered with blood, and the sweet daisy face
silent nrnl col I.
lie Prtw her.
“Oh Rttie,” he shrieked, and rushed for
ward. ,
But though he kissed her white lips again
and again, though h* held her limp little
hands close in his own, though he called her
all the sweet pet names she used to know
and lov», she never once heeded. Ah I she
had gone out on the long journey I—“ 'The
Dqmt dock's Story,” in Detroit Commercial
Advertiser.
A Southern Romance.
- TWinc rhe rebellion a well-to-do family,
and daughter, were driven from their North
Carolina home because of its occupation by
Federal troops, and settled in Walker
county, near Birmingham. Alabama. There
accompaniid the migrating family a hand
some woman, who thonch called a quadroon,
was hardly to be distinguished from a white
person. This quadroon devoted her time to
the care of Mrs. Reynolds, a confirmed
Invalid. After the war Henry Horton set
tled on an adjoining plantation. He had a
son, Maik, and Mark grew up as a playmate
of Jessie, the daughter of the Reynolds
household. A few years ago, both families
being prosperous, it was arranged by
Reynolds that if the children could be in
duced to love each other there should he a
union of the houses. Jessie wns sent to a
girls’ school in Louisville. Kentucky, and
Murk entered at Princeton. N. J. Returned
from their collegiate s’udieg the young folks
sure enough fell in love, and were married
under the most promising auspices A month
or 60 ago a child was born to them, and it
was remarked that young Horton and wife
were among the happiest of mortals But ft
cloud came up on the boriz n shortly after
the birth of the child. The quadroon fell
B ick, and I)r. Blackman, the Birmingham
physician, told her that her death was at
hand. The quadroon sent for young Horton.
She told him that her conscience had tor
tured her into making a death bed state
ment. She said that Jessie had negro blood
in her veins—that she was her daughter.
John Reynolds was Jessie’s father, but the
invalid Mrs. Reynolds had never been a
mother. The life-long illness of the latter
had in fact been caused by Reynolds, who,
at Jessie’s birth, forced his wife to acknowl
edge the child of the quadroon as ber own.
The death of the quadroon occurred soon
after Horton had been given the statement.
Horton at once told his innocent wife the
story of her parentage, drove her from her
house and sued for divorce in the Walker
county court, now sitting. 'I he other day
the court decreed the marriage void because
of fraud Pending tbe decree Horton dis
posed of bis property and left for California.
Reynolds is now endeavoring to sell so that
he may return to North Carolina The
poor young wife and mother is wild with
grief. It is not likely that she will bear the
strain, and an educated, refined girl will be
broken under ber weight of woes. Cincin
nati Commercial.
A t.irru! girl about four years old and a
little boy about six had been cautioned not
to take away the nest-egg, but one morn
ing when they went for the eggs the little
girl tcok it and started lor the house. Her
li fuiliouilili hroj iw»r < y y
Fighting the Devil With Fire.
If there is one thing that more than an
other annoys a good wife, who is nervou ly
sensitive to all that is gross and ill-timed, it
is the habit some husbands Imve of using
profane language in their homes. In many
cases this is mere thoughtlessness on the
p/rt of the good man. who never gives a
thought to the finer sensibilities of his bet
ter-half, and even should she mildly remon
strate. he pays no attention to the rebuke.
We hove just had a case in point, which
happened in one of the thriving Missouri
cities on the banks of the Mississippi, which
the ladies of Georgetown should know some
thing about.
A lady who«e husband was addicted to
the bad practice we hnve blind'd to. came
to her family physician, laid her grievances
before him, and said :
“Now, Doctor N .won’t you remon
strate with him, and try to break him of
this habit ? I know he will listen to you.”
“Why, madam,” said the doctor, "he
would pay no attention to anything i could
say to him ; but, as you have come to me,
although somewhnt out of my line, I will
recommend a prescription, to be adminis
tered by you, that will certaiuly cure him
It is an infullible remedy”
"Oh, what is it, doctor ?”
"Well, when John comes home ngnin and
swears, do yon swear back ut him. Of
course, Ldon’t want yon to take the name of
the Ixird in vain, but d—n things a little*
for his benefit."
“Doctor, for tbe sake of the final result,
I'll do It."
And she did
The next day John came in and inqnired
whether dinner was reudy, and was told it
was not.
“Well, why the d— 1 isn’t it ?” said he.
“Because,” she coolly replied, “the wood
wns so d—d wet that the fire wouldn’t burn”
“Why, Mnty, what is the matter with
you ? Are you crazy, or have you beer,
drinking ?’’
the teeth—it rather resisted all efforts at
mastication, like so much india-rubber, and
finally John blurted out :
“What mukes the d—d beef so infernal
tough ?”
Mary looked up archly and replied :
“Well, John, 1 suppose yon went down to
the butcher’s and, without knowing tbe
difference, picked oat a piece of some d—d
old stag that hadn’t been fed for u month ”
John jumped up, looked at his wife in
dismay, and wanted to know what such lan
guage from her lips meant ?
“It means just this, John ; yon are the
head of this family, and just as long as you
think it manly to swear in my presence, I
intend to do the same If you don’t like to
hear it, you know how to prevent it.”
The cure was radical, and to this date
Mary has never been compelled to administer
anolher dose of Dr. N ’s prescription.—
Colouido Miner.
Goldsmith Maid's Afvkotion— Recently
Charlie Cochrane, who was for many years
ihe faithful groom for the celebrated trotter,
Goldsmith Maid, arrived ffom California,
and wishing to nee the grand old trotting
mare and her colt, called‘on Mr. Smith, her
owner, to' obtain his permission to visit
Fashion Stud farm, New Jersey. Mr.
Smith accompanied Cochrane to the farm,
and on arriving there remarked : “Charlie,
the Maid is very jealoos of her colt, is very
cross, and will permit no ooe to approach
it.” Cochrane arranged that Goldsmith
Maid should hear his voice before she saw
him, and, although they had not seen each
other for years, a loud whinny presently
assured the visitors that the mare had reeog
nized the man’s voice. Cochrane Bext
showed himself, when a touching s<;ene
occurred. The old queen of the turf, who
for months would not allow any one to ap
proach her, making use of both heelß and
teeth if it was attempted, rushed with a
bound to her old friend, forgetting even her
colt and rubbed her head upon his shoulder,
her nose in his face, plnved with his whLker>
and showed by her every action that her
heart was full of joy to see him. Directly
the colt came up to them, and the old mare
was delighted when Charlie plawd his hand
on the little fellow. When Cochrane left
the place the mare followed him to the gate,
whinnying for him even after he had passed
out of her sight.— Baltimore Sun.
A stort is told of a clergyman who forgot
his notes on Sunday morning, and as it was
too late to send for th m he said to his au
dience. oy way >»l apology, that this mnrn-
How to Attain Lonc Life A scientific
paper gives these directions: “He who
strives ufter a long and pleasant term of life
must seek to attain continual equanimity,
and carefully to avo d everything which too
violently taxes his feelings. Nothing more
quickiy consumes the vigor of life than the
violence of the emotions of the mind W.i
know that anxiety nnd care can destroy the
healthiest hody ; we also know that fright
and fear—yes, excess of joy—become deadly.
They who are naturally cool and of a quiet
turn-of mind, upon whom nothing can make?
too powerfa! an impression, who are not
wont to he excited either by great sorrow or
great joy, have the best chance of living
long and happy after their manner. Pre
serve, therefore, under all circumstances, a
composure of mind which no happiness, no
misfortune, can too mnch disturb. Love
nothing too violently; hate nothing too
passionately; fear nothing too strongly.”
Wc don’t believe in any such ideal of Ufa
It is better to live earnestly for some truly
good purpose and die at thirty, than to deze
and drone, and vegetate until ninety. Some
of the most nsefnl and successful men have
died early. They lived while they lived aod
• hen went into a higher sphere of being.
Ut us seek to live well rather than to live
long.
Who Wouldn't be an Editor ?—On* at
the beauties and charms of an editor’s life is
in his “dead-heading" it on all occasions.
No one who has never tasted of the sweets
of that bliss can begin to take in its glory
and its happiness. He does 8100 worth of
advertising for a railroad, gets a pass for a
year, rides 825 worth, and then he is looked
upon as ad' uilhead, or a half-blown dead
beat. lie “pnfls" a theatre or concert
tronpe 810 worth and gets 81 in “compli
mentaries” and is thus passed in “fret.” If
the hall is crowded he is begrudged the room
he occupies—for if his complimentnriee were
paying tickets the tronpe would be so muchl
in puck t. lie blows and puffs a rhurch
festival free to any desired extent, and does
jiff! ba!/..r«tea_and rarelv
woik gratuitously for the town and com-'
rnunity than all the rest put together, a> d
gets cursed for it all, in many instanced,
while u man who donates a dollar for the
fourth o( July, base ball club, or church, is
gratefully remembered. Oh, it’s a sweet
thing to be an editor. He passes “free,” you
know.
Tbk paternal author of a Saratoga belle,
shortly after his return to the springs,
was approached by u youth, who requested
a few minutes conversation in private, and
begun : “1 was requested to sec you, sir, by
your lovely duugbter. Our attachment —"
“Young man,” interrupted the parent
briskly, “I don’t know what that girl of
mine is about. You are the fourth gentle
man who h»s api rouebed me this morning
on the subject. I have given my consent to
the others, and I give it to you. God bless
you!”
A man broke a chair over his wife’s head
a week or two ngo. W hen he got to j iil
nnd the clergyman undertook to talk with
him he disp’ayed a good deal of penitence.
He said that he was very sorry that he
had permitted his ancer to get tbe master
over him and to suffer him to do such an net.
because it was a good chair, one of those
good old fashioned Windsor chairs, which
was an heirloom in bis family, and ho
knew that he never could replace it.
Bok I.sokrsou, says “that to plow is to
pray.” This shows how little Bob knows
about farming. "When a man is plowing
and the implement is brought to a stand
still by striking a concealed rock or stamp,
and the handles collide violently with the
man’s abdominal regions as he suddenly lur
ches forward, he—well, he doesn’t pray.
Some of the words he makes use of would
fit very well in a prayer, but he doesn’t take
time to arrange them properly.
“This, dear children, is the shoe of a Chi
nese lady ; see how little it is. wbat a nar
row sole it has ” * I'll bet it isn’t as-qarrow
as Beacon Fattier says bis goal will
fall through a crack in the floor some day
and get lostwas the shrill comment of a
boy given to sharp listeniog. The Superin
tendent put the Chinese shoe in his pocket
and requested the school to sing “Pull for
the Shore.”
Onk had better sail bodily, in almost any
direction than drift without any direction at
| all. One had better sail in the maddest
I storm that ever troubled the sea of life, than
! lie on the sea and drift with any ch-nce wi.nl
NO. 15