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the mercury.
Sa^jersvlUc, Washington County, Ga.
pcnusmro nr
A . j. JERNIGAN,
PBoraoRoa amd Publish**.
aatseriptW.
.ttOb pm Year.
THE MERCURY.
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VOL. II.
DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE,
$1.60 PER ^NNUM.
SANDERSVILLE, GA., SEPTEMBER 20, 1881.
NO. 25.
THE MERCURY.
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AND JEWELRY
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FOR ALL KINDS OF MACHINES, for salo
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E. A. SULLIVAN,
NOTARY PUBLIC
SANDERSVILLE, GA.
Spooial attention giron to tho collodion 01
claim*
OfQce in the Court-house.
0. H. ROGERS,
A-ttorney at Law,
Sandoraville, Ga..
Prompt attention givon to all business.
Oflico in northwost wing of Gourt-hoiuso.
Nay 4, 1880.
C. C. BROWN,
Attorney at Law,
Sandoraville, Ga.
Will prnctico in tho State and United Btatoa
courts. Oflico in Court-houso.
H. N. HOLLIFIELD,
Physician and. Surgeon,
Sandoraville, Qa.
Offloo noxt door to Mrs. Dsyno’s millinery
store on Harris Street.
G. W. H. WHITAKER,
dentist,
SANDERSVILLE, QA
I'erms Cash.
ftiVico at his Rooidonoe, on Harris Street.
: .April 3, 1880.
U. EVANS,
Attorney at Law,
SANDERSVILLE, QA
April 3, 1880.
MILLIONS OF
JassMP-W 0 an*
)per 1000
.. Larger
quantities at still low-
er rates. Send for free
iclregulars. Address,
St’iire.t and Rest Medicine ever Made.
drnjh bln '! t £ n of Hops, Buohu, Man-
IV . a e lul Dandelion, With all the bent and
a.<«cc«uratlvo|)ro|wrtlo8 of all other Hitters,
s \ u, ° Brettta,t Blood Purifier, Liver
U l\ntor, and Life and lloalth ltestoring
ouYQfiBNfiSHBMN earth.
J[odiseasecVan possibly loner exist where flop
‘nwsare ubVg(1,so varied and perfect are thoir
fa l | t-‘iati(inH
r ‘®7 Erie ttwliRfe anlvlcortothoaBfdnidlnflrn.
To all whose o^mploytnrntHCAnRe irr.'^u lari'
y "f tho bowels or \ urinary organs, or who re
quire un Appetizers. Tonio and mild Stimulant,
Bop Bitter, are iuva
»C£itir
kuable,without Intox-
rir,,, l ,°, r w ^ 1R tyour feelings or symptoms
tp rH i, , ,, d “casoor ailwuent Is use Hop Bit-
onlv fJ!i U | V ult unt ily° u aM 1 'e siok but if you
u ,ad or ralserable,»use thorn at onco.
3 *»avo your llfe.lt hasg H a veil hundreds,
cuT** ? r 9 iVi 1 b “r* aId f° r a ca*»c they will not
t, ...i p ’ Do not suffer m 01 let your friends
.out uaoniid urgo them\ to »>«« Hop O
drun ,1 - t ' nilM!r ’°P fitters la n^^vllo, drugged
Mivii 'i 11 nostrum » hut the Purest^^a n tl Best
Mill llOPa?» C nn a , a ‘ , ° ; t!:0 “^VALIPS^ nUBMI
ohouhl be without tho^ 01 * -- f ‘ Unlly '
i loroniliknnn?" lut ‘ ! |i n| i irresistible
B torchVi?i., A1Uf i' 1 by arusBi-u. I
□ ! u,flr * Rod flitter a fin
, tobooci
K
llaphnul^ li " v * m,opa nr?, ci
te —-iV and Toronto. Orr
DICTIONARY.^#
of WEBSTER, Has
dfthr/VyP 0 ^ 3 , 3000 Engravings,
UO >EW IVOItDS and Meanings,
ographieal Dictionary
i’ub.5,? ver 0700 Names.
"Wished by Q. 4 c . MERRIAM, Springfield, Maas.
The Wheat in Blossom.
No grateful zephyr breathes at eventide,
Fondly oxpootod all the sultry day;
Stillness opprossivo reigns on overy sido,
While tardily, on his descending way,
Tho crimson sun withdraws his Bcorcliing ray.
All nature fools tho burden; nor around
la soon a moving thing. Tha lambs of play
Aro woariod, and now sloop. The birds have
found
Long since their mighty sholti r. Hush I there
is a sound.
High overhoad the swallow i 'poise and dart,
(Thotropio warmth has tempted from ttie
neat
The gaping flodglings, who the novel art
Of self-support acquire.) Tho gnat is pressed
In their soft beaks, whoso frequont snaps
arrest
The vacant ear below, so deep tho calm.
Does this profound tranquillity suggest
No thought in sympathy—this poaoo embalm
No treasured reminiscence? Harkl a joyous
psalm.
Though on tho wide-stretched Adds the sea-
green corn
Stands motionloss—no jointed stem vibrates.
No bloom-tippod head, unfilled, aslant is
homo,
No pondout blade a breath now agitates;
Oh, gracious stilluoaBl Ho who auimatos
Tho muto celostial spheres with praisoful
strain,
In Reason’s oar attent, in thee creates
A kindred voico. Though silont thy refrain,
To sense-bound hearing, it is sung each year
again.
For iu tho universal quiotudo
Omnipotence tho breath of lioaven holds
chained,
Wliilo storing from its boundloss plonitnde
The tender-blossomed com. Ho is there
gained,
Tho battlo of tho pooplo’s life, unstained
Tho battlo-ground by liostilo peoples’ blood.
“Bo iillod with bread,” tlio still, Bnmll
voico proolaimod,
Unlioard by senso. Tho Holds are charged
with food;
And in its calm and landscapo shouts: “All
praise to God.”
—Good Words.
BERENICE.
Mrs. Ohudleigh opened the door of
her cottage and came out into the midst
of the gloomy, freezing cold, a wistful,
anxious look on her white, wan fuce.
Putting her thin, childish hand to her
month, she called, “Bennie I" Bennie!”
Presently there onme an answer.
“ Yes, mother ; I am coming.”
And simultaneous with the answer a
sturdy little figure appeared upon tho
summit of an icy knoll.
“Ah, Bonnie I I have been so anx
ious, and you aro so cold.”
“Not a bit; but I took a longer
tramp than usual. But only see tho
faggots; they’re as clear and rich ns
butter I” and the sturdy little figure ad
vanced, drawing aftor him a small sled,
heaped with pine-knots.
The woman’s wan, moonlight face lit
p to absolute radiance, and a tender
ness that was touching beamed from
hor great, blue-gray eyes as thoy rested
on the boy—a stalwart, sturdy little
fellow, robed and wrapped like an
Esquimau, with white hair, and an
honest, manly face. Ben Ohudleigli’s
own boy I
When they had crossed the threshold
she kissed him, parting the flaxen locks
on his brow. The lad blushed like n
girl at her caress, and then fell to un
loading his sled and heaping the fire
with faggots.
“ There, now, mother,” he said, as the
ruddy blaze shot up the broad chimney,
“isn’t that nice? Now yon shall sit
down and get real warm, and I’ll make
the tea; I’m such a strong fellow I
never get tired.”
Bennie threw on fresh fagots and got
out his illuminated primer to amuse
himself, while his mother did her sew
ing; but somehow the bright pictures
failed in their usual interest. His ears
were full of the sea’s wild sobbing, and
his blue eyes—bold, kind eyes, so like
his father’s-wandered furtively to his
mother’s face. A lovely face, fair and
refined; a face that in its early bloom,
when all its rare colors were unfaded,
and all that superabundant gold-brown
hair was in its glory, must have been
very beautiful. But now, ah 1 so inde
scribably sad, so full of an undying
remorse.
The lad’s eyes filled with childhood s
qniok tears as he watched her, and his
face grew solemn with a vague, doubt
ful wonder.
“Mother,” li© said at last, just the
least quiver in his voice, “ mother, was
it all right between you and father
when he went away? ’ve wanted to
know so long.” ,
The mother looked up, startled and
amazed; a swift, burning red shot up
to her white cheeks, and then she lo
her head drop forward on the sewing-
stand, and burst into passionate ’ sob
bing. The child grew pale with frignt
and pain. „
“Oh, mother 1 poor, dear mother!
he whispered, going to her sido and
dropping kisses and caressing touches
on her bowed head, “ I’m so sorry I I
didn’t think it would hurt you so!
She drew him to her bosom in silence,
and still sobbing. His childish ques
tion had out her heart like a knife.
“ Was it all right with her and father
when he went away?” Ah, no I it was
all wrong; and now, God pi y
was too late ever to make it nght-the
orael wrong ’ must live through all
time, and eternity, perhaps I
How vividly, sitting there in the
ghastly glimmer of the firelight, did
she remember that last parting, three
weary years agol Bennie was but a
wee lad, then, and his father, who had
followed the sea all his life, was starting
on a long voyage. He wanted a paper
of some importance, a promissory note,
or something of the kind, and came to
his wife for it.
Berenice, his pretty girbwife, had
taken care of all his papers and all his
money since the first day of their happy
marriage, he being a great, eareless,
loving, fiery-hearted fellow, as sailors
usually are. Bat Berenice was quite
busy that morning, getting his outfit in
readiness; and the March winds blust
ered down the cottage ohimney, and
puffed the smoke and ashes about, and
put her out of humor; and, perhaps, for
all her sweet, child-ways and rare
boanty, this petted wife of Ben Ohud-
leigh’s was a bit impatient and quick
tempered by nature, or because of too
much petting and indulgence, as is
oftener the case. At any rate, after a
hasty search for the note, she deolarod
that it could not be found, and that it
had not been intrusted to her keeping.
Ben opened his handsome bine eyes
in amazement.
“Why, Borenice,” he said, not a bit
cross, only decided, “you know I gave
it to you. I always give yon things I
wish taken care of.’’
"A foolish habit, too,” retorted Ber
enice, spitefully. “ Why not take care
of them yourself ? And yon may here
after. I won’t have my desk crowded
with any such rubbish,” and making
good her words she tossed tho papers
sho had been overlooking on the floor.
Ben looked down at the promiscuous
heap. There were receipts and business
papers, and amid them old love-lettors
and tufts of faded blossoms that had
passed between him and Berenice in tho
days of their courtship.
“Why, Berry,” he began, and tlion
finding his voioe unsteady he stopped
short and turned away.
His wife saw in an instant what she
had done, but with the perversity of a
child, instead of trying to mako repara
tion, as her woman’s heart yearned to
do, she made matters worse.
“ 1 shan’t look another bit,” she said,
petulantly, pushing tho papers aside
with her pretty foot. “I’ve wastod half
tho morning already. You bother me
so, I wish you were gone.”
" I’m going now, then, Berenice.
Good-bye.”
He did not even turn to look at her,
but strode from the room and out into
the yard. Bennie was playing before
the doorway, and Berenice standing
breathless heard him kiss the child and
say:
“Good-byo, little onel Be a good
boy to mother, don’t forget."
That was the last. When, after a mo-
mont of stunned bowildorment, she hur
ried to the door, he was gone.
But he would come back. All day
loug, sitting with Bennie on her knee,
she said it over and over, he would
come back, and they would make it up.
But night came, and in the dnsk of
the Maroh sunset a sailor came up for
her husband’s sea-chest. Borenice was
too proud and sensitive to ask a ques
tion or send a message; but the long,
lonely night subdued her pride. As
soon as tho sun rose she made her way
down to the pier, where his vessel lay,
but it was too late—the oraft had sailed
at daybreak, and her husband was gone.
Month followed month, year drifted
after year, and Berenice lived, and
Benny grew up to a sturdy lad, never
forgetting his father’s parting com
mand. He was a good boy to his
mother; but all his simple, unaffected
devotion, so like his father’s, could not
drive the unspeakable sorrow from her
eyes, or the stinging remorse from her
heart. And now she sat there by the
blazing fire, with her thin hands
clasped, and such a wistful, hungry look
in her great, shining eyes, that poor
little Ben felt awed and frightened,
and crept away to his bed in the comer,
not daring even to kiss her again.
But the child could not sleep. He
lay listening to the voice of the winds,
as they roared and whistled through the
pine hills, and to the ceaseless moan
and thunder of the sea, raising his head
ever and anon to look at his mother’s
white, sad face, and wondering in his
child’s heart, if God and his angels
were so good and merciful, why they
did not do something to comfort her.
A strange, terrible feeling came over
him, an indescribable prescience of
something to come.
“ Mother I” he called, gently, sitting
up in his bed. “ Oh, mother 1 what is
it ? I can’t tell, but I feel something.
Indeed I do, mother 1”
But she did not heed him, The old
sea dog lifted his pointed ears and lis
tened intently; then he arose and pat
tered across to the child’s bed, with a
look half-human in his eyes. Bennie
laid his cheek against his Bhaggy head.
“ What is it, Triton?” he whispered.
The dog listened again, then he
bounded to the door and began to
scratch And sniff beneath it.
“Oh, mother 1 mother!” oalled Ben
nie, in amazed fright.
She arose with trembling hands and
a doath-w’iite face.
“T^hy, my boy, my darling," she
whispered; then ehe Went to tho door
and opened it.
Triton stood an instant with his oars
erect and his nose to the ground, then
he shot off, making great, flying leaps,
and nttering short, exultant cries. Im
pelled by something stronger than her
self, or her own will, Berenice followed
him, and poor, affrighted little Ben was
left alone.
Ont through the wild, dark night she
went, down to the bleak, ioy cliffs, and
there, standing upon the desolate sands,
his block, burly figure sharply defined
against the pale, winter sky, she saw
the form of a man, with Triton leaping
and barking around him; and never
pausing, never stopping to question or
wonder, but impelled by a wild instinct,
she flew on and on until she fell breath
less and senseless at his feet.
When she awoke to life again she was
in the cottage, lying upon Bennie’s lit
tle bed, with the glimmer of the firelight
before her, and Bennie himself was
hanging over her, potting hor cheeks
with his chnbby hands and kissing her
vigorously, his bine oyes shining with a
.look they had nover before known.
Then a wild, vague hope thrillod through
her, and she started to her feet with a
cry that rung above the din of tho
storm.
Yes, there he stood, bronzed and
worn and changod, bat with the same
kindly eyes, Ben Ohudloigh, her own
husband. Ho held out his arms, but
she wont down prostrate at his feet.
“ Oh, Ben 1 Oh, my husband 1 for
give me I I know God lias, for he has
given you back to mo."
And Ben, sobbing like a woman, gath
ered her up in hia strong arms, kissing
hor lips wildly, as she clung to him
liko a little child.
.4 Mammoth Grapevine,
The American Cultivator has an ac
count of the Santa Barbara grapevino,
whioh is said to be the largest vine in
tho world. Tho history of this vino is
not woll verified, though tho following
romantic story is assorted to be tho true
version. A Spanish lady when starting
from Sonora on horseback had given to
hor by hor lover a branch from a grape
vine, to be used as a riding whip.
When she arrived at Santa Barbara slu>
planted the branoh, which has since
produced this wondofnl vine. The ngo
of the vino is variously estimated at
from fifty to a hundred years.
This vine is situated about, three nnd
one-half miles from the town of Bantu
Barbara, California, in the courtyard of
an old adobe house. The trunk is
about four foet four inohes in circum
ference at its largest part. It begins to
branch six or oight foet from tho ground,
and is then supported on a framework,
which it covers as a roof.
Tho whole vine supported on this
framework now covers over an aore of
ground. Several of the limbs aro ten
inches in circumference at a distance of
twenty-five or thirty foet from the
trunk. The annual yield of grapes from
this vine is from 10,000 to 12,000 pounds.
The clusters of grapes average, when
ripe, from two to two and one-lialf
pounds in weight. A small stream of
water runs near tho vine. Wo aro not
informed what variety of grapes this
wonderful vine bears, but it is certainly
an interesting specimen in the horticul
tural world, forming with its foliage a
snn-proof canopy of verdure.
Wild Boar’ii Flesh.
The wild boar, like his domestioated
kin, sometimes has within him those
parasites called triohime, and those who
oat his flesh must cook it thoroughly.
Dr. John Wortabet, of St. John’s hos
pital, at Beyrout, has sent to England
an account of an outbreak of trichinosis
in Palestine caused by eating the flesh
of a wild boar, which was killed, in No
vember last, in the jungles near the vil
lage of Khiam. The boar must have
been a very large one, or his flesh must
have been distributed in very small
lots, for, on January 1, thedootor found
257 persons—121 men, 101 women and
thirty-five children—in the village suf
fering from trichinosis, which was traced
to this one animal. Five persons had
died before his arrival. Those who had
eaten the flesh raw suffered them so
severely, while those who ate it fairly
cooked had but a slight attack. Abont
ten years ago twenty persons in a vil
lage near Khiam lost their lives from
eating the flesh of a wild boar. These
animals in that region live mainly on
the roots of the cane which abounds in
the marshes, and as they burrow with
their snouts they snap up worms,
snakes and wild rats. The latter are
said to be sometimes infested with
trichina). The only persons who ate
the flesh of the Khiam boar and es
caped without harm, were the members
of a family to whom the head was sent.
They boiled it very thoroughly, and in
this way protected themselves.
Of the 1,900,000 pounds of sugar used
annually in the United States, ninety-
nine per cent, of it cornea from abroad i
MAVB a.
How the Crowd Cheered when Mho Low*
ered Her llccord n Quarter ot n Second.
Fifteen thousand people were at the
Rochester Driving Park (N. Y.) when
Mand 8. trotted her mile in 2:10 1-4.
Every one was expectant, and every one
tried to get a better view of the traok
when the mare appeared.
At 3 o’clock, William H. Vanderbilt
and party arrived at the traok, and
occupied the seoond story of the judges’
stand. After the finish of the second
heat of the 2:21 class the scraper was
sent aronnd the track, and men followed
it and picked up all stones or
ohnnks of dirt. They went close to the
pole, for Bair, the mare’s driver, had
told them that she always hngs the pole,
and that she wanted a clean track nil
along the rail. At 2:46 o’olook the run
ner, Monitor, who was driven by
Charles Green at the wheel of the Queen,
was taken upon the traok for a limber
up. At precisely 3:26 o’clock Bair
drove the mare upon the traok and took
tho tnrn opposite to that leading by tho
grand stand. Captain Stone saw her
safely on the traok, and thon he walked
leisurely up to the judges’ stand. The
mare was driven very slowly aronnd the
traok, and when she came to the dis
tance stand, at 3:35 sho was heartily
oheered. Sho pricked up her
ears with pride, as is her wont,
and jogged aronnd the track
once more. While she was making the
second round every one was on tiptoe,
both in expectancy and literally, for tho
orowd was so immonse that it was im
possible for all to see. When she had
reached the third quarter on the seoond
round she turned baok and trotted a
mile in the reverse direction, The pace
was slow all tho way around, during
whioh the pools sold almost oven on
time against her. She came down tho
stretch well in an easy, steady gait,
with Monitor close behind. When
within the distanoe stand, and while she
was going at a 2:80 gait, Bair nodded to
the judges, and they sent her away for
tho first trial. She trotted tho first
eighth slowly, but kept increasing hor
speed until she reached tho qnartcr in
0:32 3-4. When she struok out for the
up strotch she sottled down into an
easy and very steady clip, and kept a
splendid stride with her 'feet well un
der her, and hor driver holding a steady
rein on her. Sho mode the soeond
quarter in 0:32 1-2, bringing hor to tho
half in 1:05 1-4. That she trotted
evenly the remainder of tho mile tho
timo shows. Bair hold her ont woll
into the traok, and as she made tho
third tarn without a skip or a waver,
the exclamations of the thousands
who were timing her wore “She’ll do
it.” She trottodthe third quarter in
0:32 1-4, the fastest in tho milo by a
quarter of a second, bringing her to tho
three-quarter polo in 1:87 1-2. She ap
peared to trot slow when sho came into
the stretch, but tho observers were look
ing directly into her face and did not
appreciate her great speed. Bair did
not urge her at all down the stretch,
but lot her choose her own clip. Sho
mRcle tho lust quarter in exactly tho
time of tho first quarter—0:32 3-4—
reaching the wire in 2:10 1-4. There
was intense excitement as she went
home, and many who hold tickers de
clared immediately that she had beat
2:10 1-2. The mass of the orowd, how
ever, did not have stop-watohes, and
were not proficient enough to know
whether she had varied a quarter of a
second from her record. Therefore
they kept quiet until the judges hung
ont the figures, when there was one
long unloading of lung-power that cre
ated an echo far away. Bair let the
mare have plenty of space in which to
come to a walk, and then walked her
slowly up to the judges’ stand. No one
seemed happier than William H. Van
derbilt. He swung his hat when the
time was announced, and shook hands
with all his friends. When Bair alight
ed from the sulky Vanderbilt grabbed
his hand enthusiastically, and then did
the same with Captain Stone. While
the cheers were yet being given the
mare was driven to the stable, and she
did not appear again during the day.
Two of Washington's fetters.
The custodian of the originals of the
two following letters from General
Washington has furnished a copy of
them to the Philadelphia Times. It is
believed that they have not hitherto
been printed, and both are interesting
examples of Washington’s personal cor
respondence :
TUB DEATH OF PATEY CTJSTIS.
Mount Vebnon, June 20, 1773.
Dear Sir : It is an easier matter to
conceive, than to describe the distress
of this Family, especially that of the
unhappy Parent of our Dear Patey
Custis, when I informl you'that yester
day removed the Sweet Innocent Gjrl
into a more happy and peaceful abode
than any she has met with, in the
afflicted Path she hitherto has trod.
She rose from dinner about 4 o’clock
in better health and spirits than she
appeared to have been in some time ;
soon after which she was seized with
one of her usual Fits & expired in it, in
less than two minutes without uttering
a word, a groan, or scarce a sigh—this
sudden and unexpected blew, I scares
need add, has almost reduced my poor
wife to tlu> lowest ebb of misery ; whioh
is encreasod by the absence of her son
(whom I havo just fixed at the college
in New York, from whence I returned
on the 8th inst) and want of tho balmy
consolation of her Relations; whioh
leads mo more than ever in wish she
eonld see them, and that I was Master
of Arguments powerful enough to pre
vail upon Mrs. Dandridge to make this
place her absolute home. I should
think as she lives a lonesome life (Betey
being married) it might suit her well,
A be agreeable both to herself A my
wife, to me most assuredly it would.
1 do not purpose to add more at pres
ent, the end of my writing being only
to inform yon of this unhappy change.—
Onr Sincere affeotions are offered to
Mrs Bassett,—Mrs. Dandridge, and all
other Friends, and I am very Sinoerely,
Y’r Obed’t A Affect’e H’ble Serv’t
G. WASHINGTON.
Addressed to Burwbll Bassett, Esq.,
near Williamsburg, Virginia.
A LAME HOUSE.
Mount Vernon, Aug. 9, 1778.
Dear Sir : As I wrote to yon by the
lost Post, and nothing new has happened
sinoe, this letter only serves to cover the
enclosed to Mrs. Bassett. The Horse
Abol left here is got quite well of his
lameness, bnt not recovered of an ex
ceedingly swelled and sore baok, whioh
he reoeired in coming up.—This, and
the boy tolling me yon did not work,
or put him to any particular kind of
service is tho Reason why I have not
sent him down before.—If he is wanted
plcaBO to lot me know by the Post, and
I will contrive him down to you before
wo may como onrsolvos, as it will be in
October before this oan happen.—I
hope this letter will find Mrs. Bassett
in bettor hoaltb, A more composed un
der her losses than when you wrote
Inst, my best wishes attend her, Your
solf and Family, an also Mrs. Dandridge
and other Friends, and I am
Dr Sir, Y’r Most affect’a Friend A
Sorv’t G. WASHINGTON.
Addressed to Burwkll Bassett, Esq.,
near Williamsburg, Virginia.
Old-Time Kevada Jurors.
Last night a number of men were sit
ting in front of the Ormsby house dis
cussing tho big mining suit in Eureka
between the Richmond and Albion.
General Kittrell, W. W. Bishop, Sine.
Barnes, Johnny Moore and others
were interesting the orowd with recit
als of tho suits they had seen. Bishop
and Kittrell insisted that of late years
the atmosphere of the courts had boon
purer than in the earlier days.
“That is,” said Barnes, “ thinner and
weaker; in other words, jurors cost less
than formerly."
Both the lawyers agreed that ooiu
had a potent influence. When the law
was all on thoir side and the jury on the
other, thoy could only explain it on a
coin hypothesis.
At this point an old grizzly-bearded
man who had been listening slid up nnd
remarked:
“Mining suits ain’t what they used
to be. There’s been no real live litiga
tion to speak of since the Raymond A
Ely suit with tho Hermes in Pioohe.
“ Were you in town ?”
“ Well, rather; I traveled 400 miles
on a mule to get to the jury box. 1
struck the town about 6 o’olock at
night, and walking into the leading bar
room, inquired if the suit had begun.
Inside of half an hour a man came np
and asked me what my name was. He
wrote it down on his shirt cuff, and,then
he said: ‘Pard, if you want to stay and
see the suit, let me see yon through on
your expenses; ’ and he handed me $500,
remarking that he thought the R. A E.
had the bulge on the law. I said that I
thought that myself, and then I saun
tered off. In abont an hoar a man came
to me and told me I was drawn on the
jury. I said I didn’t mind, and agreed
to stand in. About 9 o’olook a man
tapped me on the arm and handed me
five hundred, remarking that the Hermes
had about all the law and foots on their
side that was necessary. He thought I
might need a little money for expenses.
Of course I took the money, he seemed
so anxious to get rid of it, and then I
slipped into a baok room, put on a pair
oi fulse side whiskers, a thin duster I
had been carrying under my eoat, and I
was a changed man. By 10 o’olock I
was on a good horse that I paid $300
for, and started off on a prospecting
trip. I couldn’t bear the idea of holding
the scales of justice iu a case like that.
I was fearful of further corruption, you
see. But on the trial I was represented
by a proxy. On tho road I met old
Bill Daman,dead broke and discouraged.
I put him on the lay, and he started
double qniok for Pioohe. He struok
the ledge rioh, I guess, for when I next
heard of him he was drivin’ a spankin’
team and enjoying life.”—Carson (Nev.)
Appeal.
Hugging sorrow is not the way to
lessen it, though, like the nettle,
trouble stings less when it is firmly
grasped and not feared.
MOMENTOUS MATT BBS.
It is estimated that 225,000 pounds of
opium are annually imported into the
United States, of which 150,000 pounds •
are used illegitimately; that is to say,
that quantity is consumed by opium
smokers and morphine injectors. The
vice is abont equally divided between
the male and female viotims, and once
oontracted is seldom onred. Unlike
drunkenness, it can be carried on for
years in secret and unsuspected; but it
breaks down the system none the less
surely than alcoholic stimulants. Near
ly all the opium consumed in the United
States is controlled by a New York
syndicate.
In a conversation with a newspaper
correspondent State Senator Tanner, of
Illinois, recently expressed surprise that
so little had been said about the appall
ing condition of the farmers in the
southern part of that State, owing to
the prolonged drought. Even the peo
ple there themselves do not seem to ap
preciate fully their situation. For
years they have enjoyed good seasons
and rioh harvests, and have had no ap
prehension of snoh reverses as now
stares them in the face. All (heir sur
plus com is sold, and they have nothing
to depend upon bnt this year’s crop.
Now, there are many fine farms of 200
aores or more from which not a dollar
will be realized this year. In the sena
tor’s opinion, one-flfth of the population
will have to be supported by the coun
ties until tho next harvest. Few of them
roaMze this as yet, because each man,
while knowing that he is short, expeots
to obtain help from his neighbors as
heretofore, bnt will find most of his
neighbors no better off than himself.
John Amweg, a singer in a traveling
opera company, was informed in St.
Louis that somebody wished to meet
him at the offleeof Frederick Paramore.
He went there with a friend, and was
asked by Paramore if he had said that
he was engaged to marry Mils Nellie
Hazeltine. She is the belle and beauty
who onee figured for a few days as the
affianced wife of the Hon. Samuel J.
Tilden, who really had never bet her.
She is now betrothed to Paramoro. Am
weg unhesitatingly said that Miss Hazel-
tine had promised to become hiB wife.
Thon, Paramore assailed him with a
whip, and. Miss Hazeltine’s brother
joined in with fists; bnt Amweg and
his friend fonght back, and the chas
tisement was not a success. When the
drawn battle was over Amweg said that
the lady had become enamored of him
at the theater, and sent him a note en
couraging him to call on her, that he
had cultivated her acquaintance on that
invitation, and the marriage engagomont
was tho rosult. In corroboration he
showed two of her portraits with
“ Yours devotedly, Nellie,” written on
tho hock, and accurately described the
Hazeltine parlor in which ho claimed
to have done.the courtship. Miss Hazel-
tine’s parents say that she was person
ated in the affair by a pretty house
maid; bnt Amweg points to the photo
graphs as a reply, and sues the young
men for assault.
Her Tittle Joke.
Yonng Mr. Simplejohn, who is olerk
in a drug store, at a air salary, last
Tuesday evening donned his new grid
iron suit, fastened the baby-blue and
gray tie with a dollar pin, carefully
scented his mustache with jockey-club,
put on his most becoming cane, and
hied himself away to Grow Hollow, to
the home of his yonng lady—a beautiful
blonde, with melting gray-blue eyes,
and luxuriant hair the color of a brindle
mule.
Yonng Mr. Simplejohn’s hair had
just been cropped at Siering’s, with a
horse-clipping machine, until his head
looked like a croquet ball. They sat,
Mr. Simplejohn and his beloved, in the
bay-window. She was gazing at the
moon, while he was watching the street,
in order to catch the first sight of her
father as he ambled up the avenue, that
they might hastily light the lamp, and
throw an air of innocence over the room
against his coming. She was caressing
the short ends of Iub cropped hair with
her little hand, and he was wondering
if there really could be anything nicer
when she said, softly, as she. patted his
head:
“ Isn’t it thick ?”
Yonng Mr. Simplejohn gasped slightly
and essayed to reply, bnt she added :
“And yet it is very soft.”
The darkness deepened, while the
moon’s rays lit up the room with ghostly
light, bringing ont weird, fantastic
shadows, that seemed to grin at and
mock him from the obscure'corners;
and the silence deepened and broadened
till they could seem to s^e it. And
then young Mr. Simplejohn sadly lifted
up his hat and oane, and carried his
bursting heart out into thy night and
hung it on a fence and tried to tie it to
gether with a string.
She sent him a violet-tinted, tear-
stained note, saying that it> was only a
joke; bnt when they meet now, it is
only as ballroom acquaintances.—Meri~
den Recorder, ‘
—————
It is said that white cats with bine
eyes are always deaf. i