Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

VOL. IV. ( o AfHwrrtMije Knfes. One squars, insertion $ 75 Each subsequent insertion 50 One square three months 5 00 One square six months- 10 00 One square twelve months 15 00 Quarter column twelve months... 30 00 lln If rjolunpi sjx months ~ 40 00 H ilf COTumn twelve months 00 00 One column twelve months 100 00 ’en lines or less considered a square. All fractions of squares are counted as full squares, NEWSPAPER DECISIONS. 1. Any person who takes a paper regu larly from the post office—whether direeted to his name or another’s, or whether he has subscribed or not—is responsible for the pavment. 2. II a person orders his paper discontin ued, he must pay all arrearages, or the pub lisher may continue to send it until payment is made, and collect the whole amount, whether the paper Is taken from the office or n >t. 3. The courts have decided that refusing to take newspapers and periodicals from the postoffice, or removing and leaving them un called for, is prtma facie evidence of inten tional fraud. TOWS DIRECTORY. Mayor —Thomas G. Barnett. Commissioners —W. W. rurnipseed.D. B. Bivins, E. G. Hnrris, E. R. James. , Ci.erk— E. G. Harris. Treasurer —W. S. Shell. Marshals —S. A. Belding, Marshal. J. YV. Johnson, Deputy. CHURCH DIRECTORY. M ethodist Episcopal Church, (South.) Rev. Wesley F. Smith, Pastor Fourth Sabbath in each month. Sunday-school 3 p. m. Prayer meeting Wednesday evening. Methodist Protestant Church. First Sabbath in each month. Sunday-school 9 A. M. Christian Church, W. S. Fears, Pastor. Second Sabbath in each month. Baptist Church, Rev. J. P. Lyon, Pas tor. Third Subbath in each month. CIVIC SOCIETIES. Pink Grove Lodge, No. 177, F. A. M. Stated communications, fourth Saturday in each month. THE 44 801 Tor SALOON (In rear of D. B. Bivins’,) HAMPTON, GEORGIA, - i IS KEPT BY CHARLIE MoOOLLUM, And is open from 4 o’clock in the morning until 10 o'clock at night. Good Liquors of all Grades And at prices to suit everybody. If you want good branch Corn Whiskey, go to the Bon Ton. If you want Peach Brandy, from one to five years old, call at the Bon Ton. If you want good Gin go the Bon Ton and get a drink at 5 cents or a dime, just as yoj want it. If you want a good smoke go to the Bon Ton and get a free cigar. loe always on hand at the 800 Ton. Nice Lemon Drinks always on band at the Bon Tun. NOT THE LARGEST, BUT THE BESI SELECTED STOCK OF LIQUORS IN TOWN. I have jost opened my Saloon and am de termined to make it a success. . Fair dealiug and prompt attention to all. Call and see, call and sample, Call and price, before buying elsewhere. CIIARLIE McCOLLEM. aug22;6m LOVE AT SEA. \\ T e are in Love's Lund to-day ; Where shall we go ? Love, shall we stmt to stiay, Or row away ? There’s many a wind and way, And never a May but May ; We are in Love’s Land 10-day We are in Love’s Land to-day. Our land-wind is the breath Of sorrows kissed to death And joys that were ; Onr ballast js a rose, Our way lies where God knows And love knows where — We are in Love’s Land to-day. Our seamen are fledged loves, Our masts are bills of doves, Our decks fine gold ; Our ropes are dead maids’ hair, Our stores ate love shafts fair And manifold— We are in Love’s Land to-day. Where shall we land you, sweet? On fields of strange men’s feet, Or fields "Dear home ? Or where the fire-flowers blow, Or where the flowers of snow Or floweis of foam ? We are in Love’s Land to- day. Land me, she says, where love Shows but one shaft, one dove, One heart, one hand. A shore like that, my dear, Lies where no man will steer— No maiden land. Swinburne. Deacon Griuder’s Experiment. BY K. B. W. “I hope the children haven’t been any trouble to you, Miss Peck?” said Deacon Grinder, as his one-horse chaise drew up on the green in front of Miss Pbilena Peck's house. Miss Peck harried out, all smiles, to greet the portly widower ‘■The little darlings!” cried she effusively. ‘ Trouble, indeed ! YY’hy, Deacon, how you talk! It’s a positive pleasure lo have them here. I should like to keep them a week.” The deacon smiled and shook his head. “That would be a little too much,” said he. “Come, children, jump into the wagon.” And the tbrre apple-cheeked little Grind ers—two girls and a boy—were kissed and hugged, and lifted into the wagon by the beaming spinster. “I shall be so lonely when they are gone,” she said. “I do so dole on children! Re member, darling, that the gooseberries will be ripe next week, and your own Peck will be only too happy to see you again.” The widow Clapp came hurrying out as the chaise rattled by, with a tin pail in her hand. “Dear me, Deacon Grinder," said she, “you are always in a harry. Do stop a minute, can’t you ? Here’s a pail of our new honey in the comb. I know the dar lings will like it on their bread and butter of an evening. When are they coming to spend the day with me ? I declare, Josie is grow ing to be a perfect beauty !” “Tut, tut, tut, Mrs. Clapp!” said the deacon, his face shining all over with satis faction. ‘Handsome is that handsome does.’ That’s my motto.” “And nobody can’t do handsomer than my little Joe,” said Mrs. Clapp. “And there’s Tommy grown as handsome as you ; drop into tea some evening this week ” The deacon had hardly gnided bis old horse around the corner of the village green when Miss Barbara Bowyer tripped out of a millinery store. “I do hope you’ll excuse me, Deacon Grinder,” said she, with all the pretty con fusion which naturally belongs to a maiden of six-and-thirty summers, “but I was so edified with your be-yu-tiful remarks io prayer-meeting Monday night that I couldn’t help setting myself to work to thiok what I could do for you. And here’s a collar I’ve stitched for dear Tommy, and a handkerchief I’ve embroidered for Josie, and a doll I’ve taken the liberty to dress for Dorothy. O, dou’t thank me, pray. It ain’t DOthing compared to the peace of mind I got listen ing to your precious remarks.” But Naomi Poole, sitting at her needle work, by the old red farm house window, had only a smile and a nod for the party as they drove by. “Papa,” said Josie, who was a shrewd, sallow-faced child of eleven, “don’t Miss Poole love us as well as Miss Peck and Mrs. Clapp and Miss Barbara Bowyer?” “I hope so, my child.” said the lienigo deacon. “Why do you ask the question ? ’ “Because she never gives us anything,” said Josie. “She is poor, child—she is poor,” said the HAMPTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1879. deacon. "But lam sure you all have her good wishes ” “I’d rather have honey,” said Tonntnv. “And gooseberries and dolls,” added little Dnrnthv. But when the deacon sat alone by his hearthstone that evenintr, hi* sister, Miss Mihnla Ann Grinder, expressed herself on the subject with groat plaiuness and per spicacity. “If you’ve really made up your mind to marry again,” said she— “l think it would add to my domestic felicity,” said the dfneon, serenely. “In that rase.” said Miss Mahala Ann, “I do hope you’ll make a sensible choice, and not allow yourself to be imposed upon by a pack of selfish widows and scheming old maids. “Sister,” said the deacon mildly, “you are severe.” “No I ain’t,” paid Mahala Ann. “If you wasn’t well-to do in the world, and hadn’t a nice home and farm and money at interest, they wouldn’t none of them look twice at yon. ” “Do yon think so?” said the deacon, nnd he pondered the question long and earnestly in his own mind. “Upon the whole,” said he, bringing down his palm upon the table, “1 ain’t sorry that those investments of mine in the Mariposa Silver Mining Company have proved a failure.” “What do you mean?” said Miss Mahala Ann, curiously eyeing him ovei the top of her spectacles. But the deucon only shook his head and smiled. “Time will show,” said he, “time will show.” The news that Deacon Grinder was wrecked in Mariposa silver mining stock flew like wild-fire through the peaceful com munity at Fitcbville Four Corners. “Well,” said Miss Phileoa Peck, “I am beat.” “He never had no judgment in money mutters,” said the Widow Clapp. “I’ve thought all along that be was living too fast,” said Barbara Bowyer. “Those poor little children! What is to become of them?” said Naomi Poole, wist fully. The next day the deacon made his appear ance at Miss Peck’s homestead, pale and rather shabby, with a child in euch hand and one following him. “Miss Peck,” said be, “1 supposeyou have heard the news ?” “Yes,” said Miss Peck, looking vinegar and tack nails. “If it’s your failure as you mean. ” “I think of going to California,” said the deacon, “to see what I can do, and if, iu the meantime, you could be induced to give my children a home —” “0, dear, no I” said Miss Peck. “I never could get along with a pack of children ! I dare say you can find some orphan asylum or place of that sort, by inquiring around a little.” Miss Peek sat so veiy upright, and glared so frightfully out of her light blue eyes at the deacoo, that be was fain to beat a retreat as sooo as possible. He knocked next at the Widow Clapp’s door A slipshod servant-maid opened it. “Is Mrs. Clapp at home ?” he asked. A head was thrust over the stair-railing, and the widow’s shrill voice cried out : “Is that Josiah Grinder with his swarm of young ones? Tell him I'm particular en gaged. Do you hear Betsey—particular.” Miss Barbara Bowyer was arranging trimmed hats and rolls of bright-colored ribboo in her bow-window as the deacoD and little ones entered the shop. “Miss Bowyer,” said tne deacon, “you were ever a genial and charitable soul. It is to you I trust to make a borne for my motherless little ones, while I endeavor lo retrieve my lost fortunes in the far West.” “I couldn’t think of such a thing,” said Miss Barbara, dropping a box of artificial rose-bnds in her consternation. “And I really think, Deacon Grinder, that you haven’t no business to expect it of me ! It’s all I can do to support myself, let alone a pack of unruly children. I dare say the poor-house master could do something lor them, or—” "I thank yon,” said the deacon, with dignity. “I shall trouble neither you nor him.” “Well,” said MiBS Bowyer, with a toss of her head, “you needn’t fly in a rage because a neighbor offers you a bit of good advice 1" But Naomi Poole ran out to tbe little garden gate as the forlorD deacon weot by. “Deacon Grinder,” hesitated she, turning rose red bdJ white by turn 3, “is this true? "About my Mariposa investment? Yes." “And that you are going to California?” “I am talkirg of it,” said tbe deacoo. “Would—could you let me take care of the little ones while you arc goncT.said Naomi, tenderly drawing little Dolly to her side. “I am very fond of little children, nnd I would take the best care of them. And you have been so kind to mother and me, Deacon Grinder, that we should feel it a privilege to be able to do something for you.” And poor, soft-hearted little Naomi burst out crying There was a moisture on the deacon’s eyelashes, too. ‘‘God hlesa you, Naomi!” said he. “You are a good girl—a very good girl.” ****** “Ain’t it true?" said Philena Peck. “Well,” said Mrs. Mopsley, “it fs, and it ain’t. He did lose what he invested in them Mariposa mines, but it was only a thousand ; and 'he rest of his money’s all tight nnd safe in United States bonds and solid real estate.” “Bless me!" said Barbara Bowyer. “Well, I never!” said the Widow Clapp, with a diseomfitted countenance. “And,” went on Mrs. Mopsley, with evi dent relish in the consternation she wns causing, “they are building a new wing to the house, and ho is to be married to Naomi Poole in ihe fall.” “A child like that!” said Mrs Clapp. “With no experience whatever!” said Barbara Bowyer, scornfully. “I hope lie won’t repent of his bargain,” said Miss Philena Peek. And Miss Philena’s charitable hopes were fulfilled. The deacon never did repent of his bargain. The Terrors of the Gorge. A newspaper correspondent has been ex ploring the gorge below the Niagara Fails, and relates his experience in the following manner: The terrors of the gorge below the Fulls are known to but few. Indeed, the foot of man scarcely ever treads this infernal region, where almost perpendicular walls rise on each side of the verge of the river from 270 to 3CO feet in height. Here the continued crumbling of the rocks has formed a precipitous pathway In places on the river's edge ; elsewhere one must cling to devices in the rock, to jutting: crags or otherwise, to get along. A party of four of us made a survey of the interior of this car.on from Lewiston to Suspension Bridge. With great difficulty we clambered along. It was a fesrfu! yet exciting exploration. At times the river would rise suddenly, some ten or even fifteen feet, as if a great dam above had broken, causing a hasty retreat of the parties np the sides of the canon. From points above rocks and stones frequently fell, causing lively apprehension, and, to add to the catalogue of embarrassments, an occasional rattlesnake attempted to retard our progress, and one of them wns killed, and his rattles preserved iu commemoiutmn of the event. Getting into the canon at Lewiston was comparatively easy, bat making one’s way out was nnother thing. Nearly a mile below Deveaux College, which is situated half a mile norih of Suspension Bridge, the possibility of making our way along the river’s edge ceased. Night was just approaching, and it was a day's hard work, nearly, to make Lewiston. Above, the rocks towered nearly three hundred feet. We had the alternative of remaining in this abode of terrors over night, and returning to Lewiston the following day, or of fighting an almost impossible passage to the steps lead ing down from the college. We determined to accept the latter. After an hour’s climb we made our way to within one hundred feet of the top, where just a narrow ridge, formed by the crumbled debris, seemed to extend. We followed this perhaps half a mile, when it came to an abrupt termination. Several rod 9 beyond was a broad pathway leading up to the college, but in the interval only the bare walls of rock, almot perpen dicular from tbe top to the rushing water, two hundred and seventy feet below,met the despairing gaze of onr party. Just above our heads was a crevice in the rocks which seemed to cross tbe intervening space. With almost certain doom staring us directly in the face, we determined to try and cross by standing tip-toe in the crevice atpl climbing to the jottings of tbe rocks. Tbe various implements of the party were divided up, a heavy theodolite falling to your correspond ent, which was strapped on his back. The tallest clambered up tbe crevice first, the others assisting and following, and the writer getting up last. Then began a peiilons struggle to reach the pathway IreyooJ. All arrived there safely, when your correspond ent, with tbe heavy burden on bis back, was but midwav across Here a sharp rock just at the height of the breast impeded the way. In attempting to get around this the boot failed to find a resting-place. The heavy instrument was pulling me off my balance. The fingers were losing their slender hold; one hundred feet above was the calm safe world, one hundred uud seventy feet below Urn roar L-j A bfi ’ rf off ami was going down, a mst came mer the eyes, when my foot caught on a friend' r gooseberry bush and u hand suddenly graspid my back and drew me around to a safe standing place. In a moment more ti e pathway was reached and tbe safety of all insured, but never will the frightful scene leave the Renees. One of the party saw the danger and rescued the participant, or else the gooseberry bush was the saving means— I have never understood which. Love. ‘Oh, happy state! when souls each other draw, When love ip liberty, und nature law ; All then is full, possessing und possess’d,— No craving void left aching in the breast ; Even thought meets thought ere from the lips it part, And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart ” Love, one of the strongest passions of the human heart, is a power that has no set bounds. As a conqueror it out-vies all other powers. When it predominates over every other impulse or passion it is all powerful. It is the lever that moves every difficulty out of the way—equalizes the most stubborn impediments ami brings into sub ordination the proudest ami most arrogant heights. “Like Death, it levels all ranks, ami lays the shepherd’s crook beside the scepter.” 'Love is Ihe beacori star of hope in all things, the life that vitui : z".s our pow ers for good, brings into captivity every in ordinate passion and places our feet in the path they should tread. Love roo'ed in Ihe heart sends out its tendrils in every direction —clasps in its embrace the good, the pure, the holy and the divine. Supplant* every vice, destroys every foreign element, sweeps und garnishes the soul's habitation for the indwelling ol angelic beauty. Love which brings ns nigh to God und heaven is love of the purest kind, of the highest and most brilliant powers. Love which endearß to each other the mother and child is love beyond expression. Love which takes within its grasp friend ship’s highest honors is a love that smoothes the pathway of life and makes our pilgrim age here more pleasant. But there is another love—a love whose powers we may have feb, tasted its sweet ness, and yielded to its fascinating influence*, yet we wili not —because we cannot—anuhze its properties. It is a mystical, intuitive quality of the human heart entirely beyond the powers of description or illustration. It is that love which hlends in blissful unity young hearts of the different sexes. By the powers of this giant, love for the parental home is dethroned, the son goes out from dear ones—a sister’s influence and love is sweet, but he leaves her —the daughter bids farewell to u mother’s tender cure—led by another hand she goes out lo battle with the vicissitudes of life in that new found world where conjugal love is tbo sun that illumes the pathway of hope and whence come looked for joys, superior to all other, and without alloy. When two hearts are cemented together by the holy ties of uff ction, there love finds an altar from whence daily incense arises heavenward to meet and mingle with the offerings of love above. In the morning of life love is the sweet cup around which fond hearts in ecstatic delight linger and drink deep draughts of bliss, preparatory for the onward journey. At noon love spreads (he banquet-table with blessings rich and rare— the feast of joy and peace nerves the guests for after years of pilgrimage—hand in hand and heart beating in nnisou to heart, the vibrations of which permeate throughout the whole realm of the kingdom of home, the love-sanctified couple live and march 00. In the evemngs of life love is still glorious; like the beauties of the setting sun, it lights up tbe horizon with magnificent splendor. Oh! the inestimable value of such love— pure as the crystal waters, warm as the fires that burn upon heavenly altars, aod as enduiing as eternity—for dare we say such love ends at death ? A Dutchman. the proprietor of a Colo rado line of stages, was collecting #2 apiece from the passengers, by way of fare. All had paid except one, and he, drawing a large revolver, pointed it at tbe collector and hoarsely asked: “Won’t that pass me? Perfectly unmoved the Dutchman said : "Oh no ;we eats dem tings here. Two toi lers, please.” “Boy, don’t you know any better than to be loitering around the streets in this way on this beautiful Sabbath day ?” Said a Suu day school teacher on his way to Lis Bible ciass. "Oh, my eye, 1 guess I do, sir ; I’m a goim’ fiebin’ j st as soon as tbe other fel lows come along,” exclaimed ihe young hope ful. Which- is the most contemptuous bird? mu.. .-I • Ki- t.nnn - Wl luc A Modem Xi>ul. 'l'lie Lmly Alice sal in her boudoir en robed in a bright brocade of a jmbnire pat tern. Stic was wnitmg the appearance of her lover. Augustus Fi'znoodle. The! bell rings. Lady Alice starts from lier chair, presses her hand In her heart, and murmurs: “ Tis he. He comes ; he comes” Bbe would have said a good deal more if Uier false teeth hadn’t dropped downward alid compelled her to shut her month. j The servant enters. He makes a bofo. and says : “A gentleman awaits your pleas-y ure.” ? i- * Lady Alice, having stuck the teeth to her upper jaw with her brother Jim’s lust cud of chewing gum, replied : ‘•Let him enter.” The door flies open and a tall form ap pears. It rushes forward. I.ady Alice shudders and gasps : “ Tis not Augus tus. ” The form bows and the lips speak : “Fair ladv, the fame of your beauty re sounds throughout the land, snd I bavo traveled many miles and from far distant countries to g>ze upon your face and inform your ladyship that l inn agent for the best corn extractor, pimple eradicator and freckle exterminator ever offered the public, and at the low price of tPn cents a box three for a quarter, or 16 for a dollar, and a beautiful chromo thrown in.” [lt is needless to continue this tale, Au gustus appears and saves the Lady Alice, and in her delight the Liidy Alice is willing to give herself to Augustus, but Augustus sarcastically replica that so good a deed as he has done doesn’t deserve to be pun ished in this manner, and the curtain falls.] Oil City Dei rick A Smart lloy. It is said there is a boy in Concord, New Hampshire, who can repeat the multiplica tion table backwards, and be is only nine years old We know that hoy. We were never in Concord, but we know bim. We lived next door to that boy when we were a boy, and it is not so long ago blit that we lemem ber hijn distinctly. He always went to bed at eight o’clock and had a slight cough. Ho brushed his hair back ol his ears, and carried a store handkerchief, and when be played marbles it was to win. He always got home from school before we did, and employed the interval in detailing to bis mother the “bolting” that boy next door was getting. And indeed we were getting it, but there was no special Interest lor other folks. He was the model boy, the boy onr parents heed to point to, and speak of, in mingled admiration and regret, while un fitting us for anything harder than a poultice, fie never ran away from school, Dor stole money, but ho u'-ed to throw mud on old people when they wern’t looking,’ »nd un selfishly throw the credit on us. And then see that boy come around into our yard with jam on his bread. That was the last feather —that was the climax to all the sorrows our young hearts knew. We could have will ingly forgiven everything el-e, but that jam upset us. It went right into our heart of hearts, and it rankles threyet. It wot ns into the house bawling for jam, and getting it, bat not on our bread. We remember that with ghastly distinctness— Hawkeye. Eftkot cr Floqukkor—A story is told to the effect that Rufus Choate once moved u client to shed tears. The man, who wus on trial for some ollensc, listened to the elo quent plea until overcome. He said, weep ing, to a friend : “I didn't know I was such an injured man.” A similar efl cl is said to have been pro duced on a horse-thief, by the eloquence of Governor 8 , of North Carolina. At the trial the Governor made such a touching address that the jury acquitted the prisouer. “Jem," said an old acquaintance, after the prisoner had oeoo discharged, “there’s no danger now; but didn’t you steal that horse?” “Well,” replied Jem, “I’ve all along thought 1 took that horse, but since I beard the Governor’s speech, I don’t believe I did.” Wrong influence of this kind is sore to react on the person using it. Sincerity is the only thing that ultimately wins confi dence. Abraham Lincoln declared that he had never accepted a case in whose justice he did not himself believe. Is love the virtuous woman, when pru dent to say so, says no ; the passionate says yes ; the copricous yes and ho ; the coquette neither yes nor wo. A coquette is. a rose from whom every lover plucks a leaf; the thorns remam for the future husband. she is compared to trnder which catches sparks but does not always succeed iu lighting a NO. 19