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* / a:-. J > , - \ , / • _ ^ Jy,
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, scoond-clM* mutter at the San-
gitsrea A„rii Q7 tssn
XviUe Pohtofflee, April 37, 1880.
jarfenrtUe, WuMarton Cowtj, Ha.
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JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH.
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THE MERCERY.
A. J. JERNIGAN, Propriktor
VOL. I.
fi . w. H. WHITAKER.
dentist,
Sanderarille, Qa.
Terms Cash.
Offlofl at hi« residence on Ilarria Street
April 3, 1830.
B. D. EVANS,
Attorney at Law,
April 3, 1880,
Sandersville, Ga.
DR. WM. RAWLINGS,
Physician & Surgeon
Sftndersrille, Qa.
Omco At Samloravllle Hotel.
April 10, 1880.
E. A. SULLIVAN,
NOTARY PUBLIC,
Sandarwillo, Qa.
Special attention given to collection ol
©toinis.
Oftlce in the Court-House.
0. H. ROGERS,
Attorney at Law,
Sandoravillo, Ga.
Prompt Attention given to all busineea.
Olllco in northwest room ot Court-House.
Mat *, 1880.
C. C. BROWN,
Attorney at Law,
Sanderarille, Qa.
Will practice in the State and United Stater
Offloe in Court-Honae.
Courts
H. N. HQLLIFIELD,
Physician & Surgeon,
Sanderarille, Qa.
Offlra aaat da* to Mr». Dayne’e milliaerr
'on Hants Street.
DR. J. B. ROBERTS,
Physician & Surgeon,
ie*d tear Ole, Qa.
Usybaeoaeolted at hla oSn on Haynet
•traa, in the Masonic Lodge huildio;, Irom 9
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otter boor* at his reaMaaoe, on Ohnreh atreet,
wbtn not protrasionally engaged.
April 8 1880.
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nouns,
accordeons,
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Machine Needles,
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r Pftrts oi Machines that get
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JERNIGAN.
whiSS written a hook
' * now mneli vnori «
— xrf in of “ “ “uujv on woman
about in l’„;, n ° W ™ uch rcad and talked
Were fixhnnofni 11 „ e Gn editions of it
As few linnu- ^ * 10 rst day it appeared,
j^oman) than th?l “ b ° Ut --, th .° , sub i eot
’ s very’ U1 °, author, tvhat he says
Mitertainincv to T J 30 l3ot h truthful and
Hi,-;.— , »• lie asserts that
yhich if uDuuoonies oy
,ts value as m loun ded, and reduced to
Poof flgm. 01 ? 6 Keutlment > outa a very
Ihe Single of Learog.
The ehetnuta droop low by the river,
And sliady aro Ankerwjoko ticca•
Tse dragon nb a fl ,ah and they quiver
To somnolent humming ol boos!
But here ia a spot ol tho past timo-
l’m many n mile from the Whir
l'll rest, and think ovor the last lime
I Ventured to meditate horo.
Oh, chestnuts aio shady, and golden are
sheaves,
And sweet is tha exquisite musio oflenves.
I peute in this quaint little harbor,
Quite out ot the swirl ol the stream;
With leavos overhead like an arbor,
1 smoke, and I ponder, and dream.
Tho hank, with its rough broken odgos,
Kxists as in days now remotoj
T hore’s still the laint savor of sodgos
And lilies fresh orushed by the boat.
Oh, broczes aro soil, and the dreamer receives
The rarest relrniu Irom tho musio oi leavos!
A brown-eyed and trusUul young maiden
Then steered this identical skid',
Her lap with lorgot-mo-nou laden,
1 now am forgot ton; but il-
No matter! I ste tho sweet glory
Ol lovo in thoso lathomloss oyos;
l toll her on oltontold story—
They sparkle with light and surprise!
Oh, rivors aro rapid, and syrens wore thieves,
Their musio was naught to tho music ol
leavos!
Ah, sweet, do you ovor remember
The stream and its musical now ?
Tho story 1 told in Sopteinbor,
liio song ol tho loaves long ago?
Our lovo was a beaulilul brief song,
As sweet os your voioo and your oyos,
But frail as n lyrical leal song,
Insplied by the short summer sighs!
Oiq summer is short, and the eoullor still
grieves,
His sorrow is oohood in musio oi leaves!
—Lot,don World.
Daisy’s First Winter.
"Sol lmvo you nt last, D.dsy! To
toll tho truth, I lmrilly thought Undo
Richard would dare to expose you to a
winter of city dissipation.”
“ Oh, you know you proniisod papa
wo should bo very quiet, as is suitable
for a minister’s daughter, so I10 felt no
fenr."
Two girls woro seated togother iit a
room, which might have boon designed
by an artist, so perfect it was in all its
luxurious details. They were cousins—
one a wealthy city banker’s only child,
the other the daughter of n country
minister. Amy was a vivacious bru
nette, whose every motion was so quick
as to remind one forcibly of n brilliant
humming bird. Daisy was a sweet rose
bud of a girl, with sensitive mobile
lips and deep gray eyes. It was her
first winter in Now York, and tlio first
time she had ovor been away from homo.
“Now, Daisy,’’ continued Amy, “you
liavo been quiet for three days, and to
morrow I’m going to tnko you out.
Show mo your party dresses.”
Daisy flushed a little as slio rose, for
she know the almost limitless oxtent of
Amy’s wardrobe.
Amy’s politeness was severely taxed as
she looked at tlio threo prettily-fash-
ionod costumes which were Daisy’s
party dresses. It amused her to think
of going through a season of city gayety
with only three white drosses ; but she
only said :
“ Tlioy are lovely, Daisy—just lovely !
and when they aro soiled I will supply
you ; wo aro of tho same height.”
Daisy’s flush deepened as sho rather
proudly said :
“I didn’t expect to go to many par
ties, Amy ; and when thoy aro soiled I
shan’t go to any’more."
Further speech was impossible, for
Amy seized her in her strong young
arms, and, gently shaking lior, ex
claimed :
“Duisy Allen, take that! I moan
you shall make a winter of it. What if
uncle is a minister? Make up your
mind to do everything and anything,
and if you thwart mo, woo bo to you.”
Daisy was only eighteen, and full of
life and fun, and once having cast
scruples aside, she entered heartily into
all Amy’s projects for their amusement.
But Amy could not overrulo hor
cousin, when, the following evening, she
found her determined to wear a white
dress to a “ German ” they were to at-
tend. So sho had to content herself,
when her offer of a ravishing “ciel-bluo”
silk was refused, with looping and dot
ting horo and there the simple dress
with pure white rosebuds. She herself
was attirod in cream silk and black laeo.
Daisy had formed great anticipations
of pleasure, as what young girl fresh
from a quiet homo would not; and thoy
were abundantly gratified. She did not
do injustice to Amy’s boudoir lessens in
waltzing, and tho graceful white-robed
girl was the most conspicuous of the
many belles who saw with envy their
complexions fade beside her fresh loveli-
Vis-a-vis to Daisy in a “Lanciers was
a gentleman, f whose eyes had a mcsmenc
influence, in that thoy made hers droop.
She watched him in tho pauses of the
dance,- and tried to make out tho dark,
stern face. Was it stern because he did
not approve of the glittering scene in
which he mixed, or simply mdiflerent?
Such woro Daisy's thoughts. But ho
was soon forgotten when Amy 1
duoed to her an Apollo in modern garb,
and took an opportunity to whisper in
hor ear: .
“Prince Charley, Daisy!
Ho immediately claimed her hand ioi
the next danco. , , „
Mr. Le Roy, or “Prince Charley as
he was called, was the greatest catch of
tho season. His parents were dead, and
he the inheritor of their reputed vas
“tripped of n a ® sei 'ts that “love,
is so ..° necessities by
P °Handsome scarcely described; him,
and as Daisy felt the spell 0
liant conversation, as well as
his beauty, she acknowledged Amy "a
daughter! tUw opnte® 1 houte
fOY ft Anfnrfainnifilliii
DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE.
SANDERSVILLE, GA., NOVEMBER 30, 1880.
daisy's pride suCciimbed to tlio strong
desire to be beautiful and charming, and
sue yielded to Amy’s coaxing and con
sented to wear 0110 of her cousin's cos
tumes, Dr. Allow would not have re-
< egmf.od his little daughter ,as she
glided through the brilliantly-lighted
rooms on Mr. Le Roy’s arm. Her dress
was of silk, the color of tho palest petal
, ta0 , musk-rose, with a film of point
lace falling in soft folds down to tlio end
of the sweeping train. Hor hair was
powdered, and a cluster of pale pink
buds, just the color of tho dress, nestled
in the soft puffs just below the little
oar.
Charles Le Roy, whose taste in such
matters was considered faultless, pro
nounced her tho most beautiful of all
the beauties lie had seen. He scarcely
left her side, and many wero tho signifi
cant looks as one and another noticed
his attentions. He had hitherto been
particular to single no one lady for at
tention, but had been courteous to all.
“ Now Prince Charley’s caught at last,”
was tho comment of his circle.
Daisy was In tlio conservatory, resting
after a long waltz, and Mr, Le Roy had
gone to bring her all ice. Somewhat
wearied, she loaned back among the
perfumed foliage, which entirely
screened her from view, when somo
words she overheard made her start ei’oet
and listen with a compression of tho
sensitive lips. This was what sho hoard:
“ I only know that sho is Miss Amy
Egbert’s cousin—a Miss Allen. Yes,
she is beautiful. I thought, when I
first saw hor, a man would deem himself
lucky who won tlio lovo of such a
woman. Among that frivolous throng
sho conducted herself in such a natural,
unaflected manner. It mado ono enjoy
oneself only to watch her.”
A few words wore said sho did not
catch, and tlio deep voice went on.
“ You seo now, Adele, what a change
a few weeks in this kind of life makes.
Look at her to-night—ono of society’s
most worldly votaries, exerting herself
to win a smilo from tho ‘ beau par-ex
cellence.’ ”
Tho voice stopped, and looking
around the orange tree which 'stood be
fore her, Daisy saw the tall, dark, stern
looking man she had noticed before, and
by his side a slight, youthful figure—
probably his wife
When “ Prince Charley ” returned he
for somo time found a* rather distrait
partner. But I10 had noticed the costli
ness of her attire, and the superb dia
monds in her ears and on her neck, and
lie lmd mado up his mind hero was a
girl whose beauty satisfied him and who
must he correspondingly wealthy, so he
exerted himself to please, and was soon
successful.
Amy was highly delighted with Daisy’s
success, and being herself engaged, made
up her mind her cousin should bo, too,
before she returned to her country homo.
And who as eligible as Charles Le Roy.
So that young man found things play
ing right into his hands, and he made
the most of his opportunities. Daisy
was swept along 111 a dizzy whirl of
pleasure. Her imagination was dazzled,
ner ambition pleased, and sho thought
her heart was touched.
She wrote homo frequently, but her
letters were cautious. She know in her
inmost heart her parents would not ap
prove of tlio course she was pursuing.
One afternoon—ono of thoso when
the snow king smilos with tho greatest
approval, an elegant eu ter, with a team
of dipped bays, was drawn up in front
of the Egbert mansion. Daisy, muffled
in a sof. soal mantle lined with liluo,
which Amy bnd wrapped around her in
tho hall, descended the steps, and was
carefully lifted in by “Prince Charley.”
Then, with a courteous bow and a gay
good-bye to Miss Amy standing in the
doorway, away they went.
It was tho first snow of the year, and
all tlio avenues were alive with innu
merable sleighs with their gay occu
pants. It seemed to Dnisy like tho
carnivals sho had road of, as they glided
swiftly nlong.
“ Prince Charley ” was used to it all,
but not evidently to tlio sweet beauty of
tho face beside him, as his ardent looks
testified. And before a very great
while lie had read in tho frank eyes that
his hopes were not in vain, and under
tho cover of the robe liad held for an
instant the little trembling band.
But suddenly Daisy’s eyes dilated
with horror, for right before tho fiery
bays, endeavoring to run across the
road, was a little boy. A scream, and
the bays reared high in the air, and then
dashed on, held by a firm hand, and
urged faster and faster by a firm voice.
Looking back, Daisy saw a little dark
object in tho road, and beside it, lifting
it tenderly, was the gentleman whose
harsh criticism upon herself sho had
heard.
Tho whole occurrence took but a few
moments, and they were out of sight.
Cowering down in her seat, Daisy
lifted ail awe-struck face to her com
panion.
“ Oh, Mr. Le Roy—Charley—why
did you not stop ?”
It seemed as if all the blood in his
body rushed to his face as he replied :
‘ Daisy, forgive mo, but I dread, as I
dread pain to myself, seeing it in others.
I will seek out the boy, and do all that
money can do, but I couldn't have
stopped.”
It was a terrible beginning of Daisy’s
love romance, but she had to be satis
fied with his words. It turned out the
boy was not seriously injured—so Mr.
Lo Roy told her the next day; and
Daisy soon forgot everything else, save
that she loved and was loved.
It was now time for Daisy to return
home, and so sho had postponed telling
her parents of her engagement till she
should see them; she was anxious to go.
Amy had enjoyed .the eclat of intro
ducing a new star, and of bringing about
the.most conspicuous match of the sea
son; and, beside that, sho dearly loved
her cousin, so she was sorry to have her
go
Mr. Mien and his wife were wholly
unprepared to find their daughter had
grown in three short months to the dig
nity of a lover; but they were indulgent
parents where the happiness of her they
loved better than themselves was con
cerned, and did not cheek her enthu
siasm as she told them about, him. He
was to visit them ia a week, Daisy said,
and they waited till then to express an
dpinion.
Ono day, a week later, a hack drove
through the little village to the parson
age gate. Charles Lo Roy gave a blank
lodk ai'dund as lie alighted and stopped
to pay the driver. As he walked slowly
tip the garden path tho blank look
changed to a contemptuous one, and lie
with difficulty smoothed away both ex
pressions as he reached tho door.
The parsonage was a small, neat house
—nothing elegant, indeed; hilt td his
eyes, expecting to seo an imposing struc
ture, it seemed very plain and insignifi
cant. Ho had not known Daisy’s father
was a minister, having never cared to
ask about hor family; for he had thought
and tritly, that oniy immense wealth
could procure the magnificent costumes
ho daily saw her attired in.
Daisy was conscious of a something,
sho could not deflno what, in his man
ner, as ho greeted her and was presented
to her parents,
Sho watched him curiously, too, at
tho supper-table, wondorinp at his
strange manner, and disappointed with
ho was making, which
the' impression
sho saw was not favorable. But she
soon knew what was tho troublo. Just
before tho meal was finished tho servant
brought in a letter to Dr. Allen, which
he laid besido liis plato to road at his
leisure.
As Daisy and Mr. Lo Roy walked from
the supper room together, ho turned to
her and said:
“May I seo you alone, a few minutes,
Miss Daisy ?”
Daisy looked quickly up, and startod
to see 111 his faco tho same expression
which it had worn when ho explained to
hor why lie had not stooped his flying
horses. Sho led him to the library, and
tho door had scarcely closed when ho
turned and hurriedly said:
“Miss Daisy, instead of coming to
ask your parents’ consent to our engage
ment, I liavo come to give you back
your freedom.”
Daisy gave a faint cry, and looked into
his face with piteous eyes. For an in
stant tho selfish nature of the man
wavered; but lie wont on :
“ I did lovo you—I do 1” hero be drew
her to him, which Dnisy passively suf
fered him to do, “ but it is only just to
tell you, T have lost all my fortune—I
am a poor man, and I would not doom
one so bright and fair to poverty."
“ Oh, Charley," with a glad little
laugh, “ is that nil I"
Ho saw the situation at a glance, and
changed his tactics. Withdrawing his
arm lie said, coldly: “ All! it is enough.
Poverty is bail enough for one, but for
two—”
The trembling, piteous-eyed maiden
changed to a majestic woman, as Daisy
suddenly in a lightning flash read the
truth in tho cowardly eyes which evaded
hers. Tlio glamour foil from her’eyes ns
she confronted him with the gesture of
a queen.
“ I see it all, Mr. Lo Roy. Nay—let
1110 speak (as lie tried to interrupt her).
You saw me with my cousin’s costly
dresses and diamonds, and doomed me
rich; you needed a fortune to mond your
broken ono, and you pretended to lovo
me! I see—I see it all !”
She drew tho gleaming solitaire from
hor finger, and laying it in his hand
calmly awaited his next movement.
There was nothing for him to do or
say, and he immediately took his de
parture.
If lie felt a momentary shame it soon
passed away, ns I10 looked back on tlio
little parsonage, and thought how
nearly lie had compromised himself.
As soon as tlio door closed on him,
Daisy wound her way to her n other’s
room. What was her surprise on open
ing the door to find hor in tears, and her
husband vainly trying to comfort her.
The mystery was made clear as her
father handed her a letter, which was
from London, and ran thus :
“Rev. Dn. Allen: Deah Sni—I have
learned that a person by tho name of
Payton, alias Lo Roy, is to be nt your
liouso this week. I have just lately*dis
covered his whereabouts, and knowing
you a minister, will wish to further tlio
ends of justice, delayed operation until
sure of success. He is the famous forger
who so successfully firged the names of
five of our wealthy merchants, and dis
appeared with the money. 1 myself,
with two officers, will visit you Thurs
day, and as you are a lover of justice, I
charge you to detain him—be he friend
or foe.”
The name signed was Roger Penten-
gall, and Dr. Allen had hoard of him as
a celebrated detective.
The paper dropped from Daisy’s hand
as sho realized what she had escaped,
and then and there she confessed nil to
her parents, taking to herself tho blame
of appearing what sho was not.
Of course when tho gentlemen cainc
there was no prisoner to capture, Dr.
Mien explaining to them that ho had not
known of his departure In time to pre
vent it. They liad told him how thoy
had learned ho was to be there that
week. Two detectives, disguised as
farmers, with produce to sell, had
wormed themselves into tlio favor of Mr.
Egbert’s servants (knowing Le Roy was
intimate there), who had easily fallen
into the trap, and told all they knew
from hearing the family conversation.
They thought that to arrest him in quiet
Deanloigli would avoid ; giving unneces
sary pain to liis many friends; and as
they were acting under such instructions,
had laid their plans in that way.
Daisy’s first winter she did "not soon
forget. And when the nows came of
Mr. Le Roy’s arrest, and the scandal it
had caused in society, she shuddered
anew at the awful peril she had so gid
dily courted,. Amy Egbert came the
next summer, full of remorse; but she
soon became her own gay self as she
saw the bloom on Daisy’s face as bright
as’ever.
There was an elegant place called
Rockmount, a little out of the village,
which had stood vacant for years, and it
was rumored it had found a purchaser.
Extravagant stories were told of his
wealth. “Rich as CrcBSus” he was
called, and when a check came to’Dr.
Mien of one thousand, dollars, “ for the
poor of the village,” it made them all
the more believed
Four uneventful years quietly passed
away. In that time Daisy changed
more in mind and cimriictei’ than in por-
son. When Mr. Uolmar, the owner of
Rockmount, called with his sister at the
f iarsonago and met tho serious eyes look-
tig llitq his, lio know ho had seen the
face boioro, alut lit! suddenly remem
bered whore and liow. Daisy, too, felt
tho same mesmeric influence that bad
once attracted her attention, stronger
than ever.
It was soon ovident how things wore
tending, and Daisy’s parents were happy
-~ndt alone with their daughter's mak
ing a good match in a worldly point of
view, but that every new meeting
showed them something more noblo and
manly in rhilip Delmar’s character.
When lie asked Daisy if sho would bo
his wife, she tohl him Itbmit, Mr, Le
Rov, not sparing licrsolf in the recital,
and then with her hands folded ono in
tho other, and downcast eyes, waited.
“ My darling 1” was all Philip said ;
but tlio word was accented as if in that
all tho past were wiped away J and Daisy,
lifting her lips for tho betrothal kiss,
saw tho graveness all gono out of the
dark face, and in its stead a vivid light,
whoso source she knew.
So it was that that first wintol* at city
life, which liad worked hor so much sor
row, was now remembered with pleas
ure, for then it was sho hod first mot tho
one who was making her life one long
realm of sunshine.
A Dog Which Died or Grief.
Dr. Martin, a gentleman living on
Decatur street, tolls tho “Constitution”
a romarkablo story about a bulldog
who actually died of a brokon heart.
“ You remember,” said tho pleasant doc
tor, “ that about two months ago my
father-in-law, Mr. W. H. Harvill, who
had reached a green old age, died. You
may or may not know that lie owned nt
tho timo of his death a very flno bull
dog—a huge, fat, sleek fellow, who
wont by tho name of Ponto. For months
and months before his death this dog
was his constant companion. There was
aomething almost human in tho devo
tion of the dog to his master, and, as a
nntural consoquence, tbo master was
particularly fond of his dog. The daily
movements of the old gentleman, for a
long time before his last sickness, wore
as regular as thoso of a clock, and Ponto
followed him as surely as his very
shadow. Thoy were simply inseparable.
When the old man died Ponto took bis
plneo by the coffin and did not budge
until it was taken from the room. Then
I10 got up and followed it closely to the
hearse, and slowly followed tbo hoarse
to the grave. Ponto camo back to the
house a changed dog. Every night lie
lay upon bis rug in tho porch and moaned
most piteously all night long. I have
never heard any expression of human
sorrow that was half so plaintive and
touching as tho moaning of that dog,
as, night after night, ho writhed upon
that mg. Every day found him mak
ing the rounds just ns ho used to do be
fore tlio old man diod. Ho would walk
slowly up tho street, and after n while
pass down tho other sido, on his way
out to tho plantation. Ho would come
back to tbo store, and after lying under
that chair a few moments would get up,
look into my faco in tho most pleading
manner, and then I10 would go up to the
liouso, and aftor taking liis place by the
sofa in tho hall, suddenly spring up and
walk through my father-in-law’s hod-
room. He was looking for his dead
master. The family lot him have his
own way, and I did nil in my power to
console him. I tempted him with the
choicest moat, but I10 refused to oat. I
offered him the warmest milk; I10 would
not drink. Ho went about with his head
down, the very picture of sorrow. He
dwindled away almost to a skeleton,
staggering around dnily to tho places
visitod by liis master in life and at night
giving’ventto his distressful moaning.
But this could not last forovor, so one
day about live weeks after the old man
died, Ponto came dragging his lank and
weak body down tlio street—that same
street which be had traveled so many
bright mornings with his master. When
ho got by the fenco there he stopped and
sank upon tho ground. I ran to him,
and, lifting him in my arms, carried
him into the yard. I laid him gently
on the ground—I wish now I liad taken
him into the house and placed him in
tho old man’s room, for (and the kind
doctor turned his head, there was a
tremor in his tone), for he was dead!”—
(Atlanta (Ga.) Constitution.
How a Dog Bought Ills Dinner.
But if you are looking for downright
intellect call on the pointer dog. It is
safe to assert that the pointer has mind
enough for anything. Ho is far more hu
man than tho monkey, and, we cheerfully
acknowledge, far worthier of tho rela
tionship. Why, look at Jeff—everybody
knows Jeff—Dr. Mattanor’s liver-colored
pointer. The dog carries notes, goes
for the horse and buggy, goes for beef
and fetches ice regularly. Bosides all
this, Jeff has many accomplishments
that make him a finished dog. Would
anybody deny Jeff’s intellect ? Hardly.
Why, lust week Jeff was sont for ice, and
what did he do ? Ho started with a
towel, in one corner of which the nickel
was tied up. Jeff saw that nickel put
in, and immediately temptation assailed
him. He could buy ice on credit, and
beef was always cash. Now watch tho
dog. Ho reasoned. Ho labored under
the temptation until I10 reached Huff’s
corner, near the old house, and thon he
yielded. Down in the dirt he crouched,
and after a tussel got the knot untied.
What next ? It would never do to carry
that nickel into Oorput’s. He reasoned
again. Ho buried tlie nickel, earned
the towel in, received the ice and came
out not for tho nickel. Oh, no; he had
studied that out too. The doctor must
be loft under tlie impression that the
nickel had gone for ice, and ho was.
Tho ice was earned to the office, and
Jeff came back like a flash, secured bis
cash, galloped onward to the beef stand,
and in a few moments was observed
homeward bound with his dinner. He
was not ufraid to carry it home. He
reasoned that the doctor would suppose
some one had given it to him. This is
vouched for by three witnesses.—[Ma
con (Ga.) Telegraph.
• 1.50 PER ANNUfc
NO. 35.
roll THE FAIR HEX.
Fulilmi Note*.
All cuffs are narrow.
Trains are greatly shortened.
Dresses are not short to exaggeration
Wide or deep cuffs are not fashion
able.
Gloves for full dress nro as long as
over.
Stripes are very fashionable for child
ren.
Sarah Bernhardt’s fancies are all the
fashion.
The driving cloak is to take tho place
of tbo ulster.
Evon the plainest wool drosses aro
trimmed with ciselo or brocaded velvet.
THE MERCURY.
PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY.
Satin do Lyons takes tho place of
faille.
Gros grain silk and faille have gone
out of date.
Driving cloaks are long, loose ulsters
of cheviot.
Largo slooves, or elbow sleoves, aro
worn in clonks.
Sntin bonnets are ornamented to ex
cess with beads.
Littlo people are again dressed In
bright, gay colors.
Tho “Pilgrim” is tho form of the
polonaise in Paris.
Green anti brown are favorite combi
nations of color.
Plush is tho favorite trimming for
jackets and cloaks.
High niffs of lace, both black and
wliito, will bo wore.
Woven fenthor bands will be used for
trimming dressy wraps.
Fichus of white net will take tho
place of those of mull and lacc.
Figured and rough-surfaced cloths are
preferred for winter cloaks.
Silver and gold wovon and spangled
tull will bo worn for ball drosses.
Bengalino is tlie name of a now silk
fabric which closely resomblos
Sicilionno.
Hint to lilrli.
A wood engraver, being asked why be
did not employ women, replied: I have
employed women very often and I wish
I could feel more encouraged. But tho
truth is that when a young man comes
to mo and begins his work, he feels that
it is his life’s business. Ho is to cut liis
fortune out of the little blocks before
him. Wife, family, home, happiness,
and all are to be carved out by liis own
hand, and he settles steadily and ear
nestly to liis labor, determined to master
it, and with every incitement spur
ring him on. Ho cannot many until lie
knows his trade. It is exactly the other
way with the girl. Sho may he as poor
as the hoy, and as wholly dependent
upon herself for a living, but slio feels
that she will probably marry by-and-bye,
and tlion she must give up wood engrav
ing. So she goes on listlessly; she lias
no ambition to excel; she does not feel
that all hor happiness depends 011 it.
Sho will marry and then her husband’s
wages will support her. She may not
say so, but she thinks so, and it spoils
her work.
NOTICE.
fy AU ocamunieaUona iataadad tar tMa
paper moat be accompanied with the tall
name ot the writer, not neeeaaarily tec petal,
cation, bnt aa a guarantee of good laith.
We are in no way roaponaible lor the view*
•r opiaione of oorreipondenta.
There is a deal of solid comfort in a
bloek of ice.
Sorting Heine.
A farmer's wile was busy
Sorting heane.
'ihe good teemed hardly any,
For liio harvest time wm rainy,
liad ior beans.
Ihe poor ones were so many,
She wns vexed and tired by picking
Out bad beans.
For it took hor many hours,
And it tired her patience powers,
Till sho wished there wero no showers
To spoil beans.
Suddenly she stopped, ami thinking
Oi the beans
Now flnishod, said with smiling:
" Wbnt a lool to let the riling
Come, the pleasant hours beguiling,
For bad beans.
" When I come to have another
Sorting beans,
I v ill save me halt the trouble,
And my pleasure will bo double,
While 1 burst the IlMcous bubble
Ol bad beans.
" For iunload ol always looking
For bad beans,
I will leave them, while with pleasure
1 will gathor out and treasure,
Till I All my littlo moasuro
With good beans.”
There’s a lesson irom this story—
Sorting beans.
i.iib is lull ot smilos nnd madness,
Many grids and sometimes gladness,
Muoli of foy and more ol sadness—
Like poor beans.
And onr work in lile is sorting,
As with beans,
We onn go through lile and end it,
I.onvingtho boat tilings, that lend it
Charms, ami only spend it
With bad beans.
Very dark bottle groon will tako the
place of navy blue in popular favor.
Tho garments called polonaisos are
not much like thoso worn several years
ago.
Tho most fashionable bonnets are
either of plush or heavily trimmed with
plush.
Heavily'embroidered and jet beaded
wraps will bo wore in the mildest win
ter weather.
All sorts of designs, including littlo
pigs, big boars, dogs, cats and ele
phants are seen on buttons.
The full, plain skirt grows in popu
larity in New York, bnt it is not seen
among French importations.
Chenille, mother of pearl, and span
gles aro usod for embroidering the hand
somest tullo and ball drosses.
Scotch plaids of tho darker tints of
blue and green and black are much in
demand for waterproofs and traveling
wraps.
Black, wliito and colored tullo ball
dresses aro ombroidorod with tinsel and
illuminated with wovon-in threads of
gold and silver.
"While plttsli and furry beavor lints
and bonnets aro tho most in demand,
there are also immense numbers of
satin, silk, and plnin felt bonnets.
Tlie “Pilgrim" polonaise is n long,
loose garment with a doop cape and a
hood, doop cuffs, and a cord and tassel,
or wido belt holding in its fullnoss at the
waist.
Tlie difference between ciselo velvet
and velvet brocade consists in tho first
having a satin ground upon which tho
velvet pile forms the figures, while in
tlio brocade the reverse is tlie case.
Exquisite, light, all-wool fabrics, in
evening colors, aro brought out for
dresses for young girls, tho skirts being
of those materials and tho corsages of
polka-dotted or small-figured brocaded
volvet oi' satin, matching tho color of tlie
skirts. Tho laces worn with such toilets
aro either Breton or Valenciennes,
Italian imitation.
But (.hero is a way that’s belter
Sorting beans.
Choose the good, and when file closes
There will bo leu thorns than roses,
For the garnered good disposes
Of poor beuns.
HUMOROUS.
A growing industry—Fanning.
The letter A ntnkes men mean.
How to turn people's heads—Come to
a concert late in a pair of squeaking
boots.
Tho “ New Orlenns Picayune ” thinks
that a man, liko a razor, is made keeu
by being frequently strapped.
Tho season is coming when a man
must not only guard carefully liis liberty
and every other right vouchsafed him by
the Constitution, but ho must keep ono
eye on liis woodpile and lien-roost.—
[ Middletown Transcript.
A beautiful girl ia Molioe.
Whoso huir was 11 silvory shoen,
Be ught nu nwlul rod hang
On her fotohoud to bang,
Producing u curious scono.
A Now Yorker is named Stealing, and
ho hntes tho name; but ho took tho
curse off it for liis daughter by making
her Christian name “Worth.”—(Boston
Post.
The man who is asked to guess at a
lady’s age and doesn’t guess several
years less than I10 believes to be exact,
is making an enemy and doing truth no
good.—[Free Press.
It is very sad to learn Into in life that
the hitherto unsuspected primrose is
“ a corollifloral dicotyledonous exogen,
with a monopotftlus corolla and a cen
tral placenta.” Professor Huxley is re
sponsible for unearthing this scandalous
fact.
The name of the last-discovered planet
is an inch longer than the planet.
“Well, wife, you can’t say I ever con
tracted liad habits.” “ No, you gen
erally expanded them.”
The Science of Cookery.
Ruskin thus discourses on cookery :
What does “ cookery ” mean ? It means
tho knowlege of Media, and of Circe,
and of Calypso, and of Helen, and of
Rebekah, and of the queen of Sheba.
It means knowledge of all herbs and
fruits, and balms and spices ; and of
all that is healing and sweet in fields
and groves, and savory in meal; it
means carefulness and inventiveness,
watchfulness, willingness and readiness
ol appliances ; it means the economy of
your great-grandmothers, and the
science of modern cliemisty; it means
much tasting and no wasting ; it means
English thoroughness, and French art,
and Arabian hospitality; it means, in
fine, that you are to life perfectly and
always “ ladies,” “ loaf-givers;” and, as
you are to see, imperatively, that every
body has something pretty to put on—
so that you are to soe, yet more im
peratively, that everybody has something
nice to eat.
A Frightful llnlloon Accident.
A frightful balloon accident occurred
recently at Courbevoie, near Paris. A
large crowd had assembled to witness
tho novel and perilous ascent of a gym
nast called Auguste Navarre, who hud
volunteered to perform a number of
athletic feats on a trapeze suspended
from a Montgolfiere balloon named the
Vidouvillaise. Rejecting the advice of
bystanders, Navarre refused to allow
himself to bo tied to the trapeze. There
was no car attached to the balloon. At
about five o’clock the Vidouvillaise was
let loose from its moorings and rose
majestically in the air. Navarre, hang
ing on to the trapeze, appeared quite
confident and repeatedly saluted the
spectators. When, however, the balloon
bad readied a height of nearly 1,000
yards, the crowd was horrified to see
him suddenly let go the bar and fall.
The descent was watched in breathless
excitement. At last the body reached
the ground, striking with such force
that it made a hole in the earth two feet
deep, and rebounded four yards. It
was crushed and mangled almost be
yond recognition. Meanwhile the bal
loon, freed from its human ballast, shot
up with lightning speed, and soon dis
appeared from sight. Late in the even
ing it burst and fell at Menilmontant,
mueli to the consternation of the inhabi
tants of that busy Parisian quarter.
Signs of the Times.
“ No,” said the vagrant, with a sigh,
“ times are getting better, they’re not
what they used to be. A man’s offered
more work titan wittals.”
“ Haven’t you signs amongst you so
that you know where to go, and how
you will be treated and all that sort of
thing ?”
“Well, we each have signs of our
own. If I see a big, powerful bulldog
hanging around the front door, I take
that as a sign meaning ‘ move on.’ If
there are a few stout men in tho next
field to the house, that means 1 too much
gristle and too little meat.’ If a large
pile of cordwood stands by a house with
a bucksaw reclining against it, that’s a
sign for ‘ saw3-edge.’ Oh, yes, we have
lots of signs—good reliable signs, too.”
("Qjtroit Free PreBS.