The Mercury. (Sandersville, Ga.) 1880-1???, March 21, 1882, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextTHE mercury. u second- claaa matter at the Sanders- ^^rUle Postoffloe, April 27, 1830. gjjiertTlUe, Washington Comity, Q®, A. J. JERNIGAN, PioTiims an Pntona .tL» par Taac. jslwripttun. c. C. BROWN, Attorney at Law, BimdorsviUe, Ga, Will practice in the Stato and Unitod State* pints. Office in Conrt-honae. H. N. HOLLI FI ELD. physician and Surgeon, Sandcrsville, Qa. Office next door to Mrs. Bayne's mllliuoiy ,lnre on Harris Streot. G. W. H. WHITAKER, DENTIST, BANDERSVILLE, GA, Terms Oasii. Offico at his liosidonoo, on IlartlG Street. April 8, 1830. B. D. EVANS, Attorney at Law, BANDF.ltSVILT.E, GA. April 8, 1880. E. A. SULLIVAN, notary public BANDEIISVILLE, GA. Special attontlon giren to tho oollootlon a -Ulma Office In the Oonrt-hoaee Watches, Clocks AND JEWELRY HKPA1UED liy JERNIGAN BUY YOUR Spectacles, Spectacles FROM JERNIGAN. None genuine without our Trado Hark. On hand and for aale, kies, Nose glasses, Etc Music! Music -GO TO- JERNIGAN —FOR— 11 BOWS, STRINGS, UOSITV BOXES, &o Machine Needles Oil and Shuttles ™ ALL KINDS OP MACHINES, for e&U i will nisi, ordor parte of Maebiucs that got broken, for which new piecoe aro wanted. *T. JrKHNlGJ-A.lv. 25 CENTS, POSTPAID. A TREATISE ON THE HORSE -AND- H 'S DISEASES. 1,18 8vm,)tom« an n Inilox of Di8ea8es . which given of each « ant l the Best Treatment «!Ki for Ti.; , 0 Bering all the prinoipal drugs 6ffect B « n ,i H? r80 ' WJ th tho ordinary dose, villi in w, ant “! ote when a poison. A Table different „‘ i 1Kravl . l |g of tho Horue’s Teeth at 1 mles for telling the age. 0 ^valuabl“!! 1 e f tratio f n ne ° Oipto “* “ n ° h HOOK, eont postpaid to any 25c£n£. the United Btatoa or 0 &nad ». toi CLUB RATES. jgfflgy 00 9fB§^EEEis td4r*(^ wo tod Three-Cent Stamp# reeelrad. New York Newspaper Union, ******> Wenfc fta, HewTntk MERCURY. A. J. JERNIGAN, Puopunrron. DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. VOL. II. #1.50 PER ANNUM. SANDERSVILLE, GA., MARCH 21, 1882. NO. 51. I.ovc'h Only Chance. And did you think my lieai t ^ Could lteop its love unchanging, Fro.-th a» the buds that start lu spring, nor know estranging i Listen l Tho lmds depart: I lovod you once, but now— T love you moro than ever. ’l'is not the early lovo ; With day and night it alters, And onward still must move Like osrth, that never lalters For storm or star above. 1 loved you once, but now 1 love you more than ever. With gifts in thoso glad days How eagerly I Bought you I Yontli, shining hope, and praiso ; Thcao wnro tho gifts I brought yon. In this world littlo stays : I lovod you once, but now— I lovo you more Ilian over. A child with glorious eyes Hero in our arms half-sleeping— Bo passion wakeful lios; Tlien grows to manhood, kcoping Its wistful, young surprise: I lovod you onco, but now— I lovo you moro than ever, When age's pinching air Strip’s summer’s rich possession And leaves tlie brandies bare, My eeerct in confession Btill thus with you I’ll share: I loved you onee, hut now— I love yon more than over. —George /’. J.athrop, in the Continent. My Great-Aunt Elizabeth. As I cuu remember my great-aunt Elizabeth—at,d I was a very littlo l>oy when 1 nsed to soo her—she was a well- roundid old Quaker lady with tho neat est of oops and a spotless kerohief folded across her breast. What most impressed mo was that she knittod gray woolen stockings all tho time, appar ently never looking at them and never dropping a stitch. This struck mo os a very marvelous feat, and to toll the truth I must still think it so, as I do not find ladies young or old nowadays who oan do the same. I never imagined that my great-aun Elizabeth bad experienced a livelier emotion than that consequent on drop ping a stitch or having a baking spoil. Not till long after she was laid away in one of the tombless mounds in tho Friends’ burying ground did I learn from some old letters and papers what a whirlwind of passion and of pain had swept through her life half a century before I saw her. She was the youngest daughter of my ancestor, her father, who, with dno re spect to his memory, must have been a oholeric and tyrannical old fellow. Sim grow up a beauty, and as at that time marriages were formed early among tho settlers of Upland where the family lived, hor sisters wore soon carried off and she lived alone with her father, then a widower. Naturally sho did not lack admirers,'some from the surround ing farms and somo even from Phila delphia and.Newcastlo. Two, however, wero particularly assiduous; the one, John Hatton, already tho prosperous owner of a farm in the neighborly- d, the other Thomas Ebsworth, a promis ing sprig of the law from Newcastle. Tho latter was a dapper gentleman of the day, with u wig and black silk stockings, and with the courteous man ners of tho Established church, of which ho and his parents wore mem bers. He i^owed to great advantage in Elizabeth’s eyes in contrast to John Hatton, a heavy youth, slow of speech wearing an ill-fitting Quaker suit of homespun, and inclined to surliness. But her father looked at matters differ ently. He had feigned business in Newcastle and found the Ebsworth fam ily to bo, as lie expressed it, of the Maryland style of people, spending their incomes in fine Jiving, buying wines and wearing imported goods. Altogether the future of young Ebs worth looked to him very problemati cal, so ono evening he began: “ Elizabeth, I see thee has two fol lowers who are coming often; I shall not urge thee to marry either, but I shall tell thee one thee shall not marry, and that is Thomas Ebsworth. Nor «li»ll he co ne again into this house. I shall have no sparks in silk stockings enter my doors.” Elizabeth knew well the hard inflexi ble character of her father. Sho could never remember to havo sat on his knee, nor to havo kissed him. Yet she knew that in bis way he loved his fam ily before all else, and what rendered her case hopeless was that it was this very lovo for her that prompted his cruel action. She turned deadly pale, and sinking on a bench said not a word. Her father had expected passionate remonstrance perhaps, but not silent acquiescence. He well knew that her affections were for Ebsworth. Many men would have worked themselves into a rage to justify their harshness. But he needed no such self-deoeotion. He acted as Friends [usually aot, with perfectly clear oonvictions. «i Thee knows that in this I act for thy welfare. I cannot allow thee to enter a family; where the hours are passed in wordly pleasures, where re ligion is a hollow profession, and whose goods are squandered in follies. Let tin's rolation go no further, and now o o tby sleep.” No 111 s o was in her bod did Elisa THE MERCURY. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. ■ ■ M H• • NOTICE. 49*111 eoamualoaNoni tnfonJM for this pa. per must be aooompaniad wfth the full noma tSf the writer, not neoeSSarily for pubUoatta, bat as a guarantee of good foith. Wo art in no way nqpaasIMs tar the vitae fl» •’ indotona of oorreapondeoth r boih give way to those wild choking sobs which she had stifled by a mighty effort. Life strotched before hor a long and sterile blank. The light and tho glory had utterly gone from it. Next day she rose pale and haggard and wont nbont her duties as usual. Her father made no referenoe to the conversation, but he was restless. He knew that on Fifth-day evening Thomas Ebsworth paid his usual weekly visit. This was Fifth-day, and the old man evidently had something on his mind. So had Elizabeth, fearing she knew not what. Toward sunset Ebsworth entered tho lane on horseback. He was dressed as usual with much care in the latest English fashion, and with tho usual black mJk stookings. As he entered the ynrfKhe old man went out and ad dressed him: “Thomas, thee oan turn round and go home and stay there. I do not wish more of thy vibits.” The young man was taken aback by this language, but lost noithorhis pres once of mind nor his courtesy, “Friend James,” he said, “may I ask why thoa treats me thus ? I hnvo not deserved it.” Thomas, though of tho Established church, adopted out of policy the plain languago with his Quaker friends. “ I will tell thee why. Thee comes for my daughter. Thee shall never have herand hero tho hot-headed naluro of tho old man got tho better of him and he bnrstont: “I shall never give her to a worlding who thinks to get my monoy to spend on cards and wino, and,” he added, looking scorn fully at tho shapely limbs of the young man, “on black silk stockings. Got thee gone. Neither she nor I want to see thee again.” A faint cry from an upper window led both of thorn to look np. There, prone across tho sill, Jay iha fainting form of Elizabeth. The old man with an imperative gosture of anger bade the youth dopart. Looking hopelessly at the house he Inrnod down the lane and never was seen to enter it again. But did ho thus give up the chase ? Ah ! that is where a dreadful mystery comes in. Watched and lectured by her father, dogged by surly John Hat ton, Elizabeth sank into apatby, the roses faded from her cheeks, and at last sho was woiried into consenting to a marriage with this persistent suitor. A year passed, when ono day John rode up to tho old man’s, a prey to somo excitement which chnngod his whole features. His father in-law looked at him with amazement. “John,” he said, “ tvhat is the mat ter ? what aileth thee ?” “ Matter," he hissed, “ matter—take thy daughter back. I want no false woman for my wifo." Bnt ho had not learned tho temper of the man he was talking to. With a blow that would have done credit to an arm of thirty his father-in-law felled him to the earth. “Take that, thou foul speaker, and may tho Lord forgive me my anger. But none shall speak such lies of my children.” “ A lie, is it?" said John, slowly ris ing, greatly cooled by this most incon sistent action of the old Friend.. “ Then what does this mean ?’’ and ho spread a crumpled piece of paper before his father-in-law’s eyes. It was with difficulty tho old man could read it, although it was written in a clerkly Italian hand. It read: “Will thoo not meet mo, dear Eliza beth, by the spring in the woods after suneet to-morrow? As wo plodged each other our true love, let us keep our pledge in spite of the ono man who stands in the way, no matter how near he is to thoa. Thy own Thomas.” It was not dated. The old man saw what it referred to and said: “ This was written years before tby marriage, when I drove Thomas Ebs worth from tho houso. Bnt she never met him, as I watched her hourly for days afterward.” “Perhaps so," said John, “bnt it may have been written within a month." As he spoke ho backed off to a respoct- ful distance as he saw a dangerous light in tho old man’s eyes. “ John," said he, “ anger me not. Thou art a fool, and thy wife is my daughter. I shall speak to Friend Ra chel Wilson and sho shall adjust this matter between us. Bnt never speak to me again about it." Friend Rachel was a local preacher of great force of oharaoter and discre tion. She reported that Elizabeth had received this note from Thomas Ebs worth the day he was driven away, but her conscience was too’much under a sense of duty to heed it..Unfortunately she did not destroy it. This explanation—undoubtedly the true one—did not satisfy John Hatton, but he dared not openly defy it. He grew' more and more surly, soon took to drinking, and after a few years of do mestic unhappiness, he fell off his horse one day when strong liquor had weakened his brain, and broke his neok. My great-aunt never married again, and for fifty years after his death led that placid existence which is nowhere found in snoh perfection as in the 8o- oiety of Friends, And Thomas Ebsworth, what of him ? Able and ambitious, ho falsified the predictions of my ancestor and il lustrated ogain how foolish is the wis dom which would fenoe passion with prndenoe and love with calculation. He removed to Maryland, married late in life, and became a prominent figure in the early political history of our Union. Onoe only did the lovers meet. My great-aunt, left with straitened means and several small children, lived after her husband’s death near tho “Baltimore road," the main highway whioh in those days led from Baltimore to Philadelphia. One summer after noon she took hor work to a seat under a great oak tree by tho roadside. Sho was still a comely woman with a fresh sweet face and brown ^air untouched by gray. Her ycungest daughter, a girl of eleven, was with hor and it is hor aocount of what hnppenod that I shall give. Looking down tho road the child spiod a delightful sight—a roal privato coach brilliant witli shining lamps and varnish, and driven by a liveried coach man in the majesty of cookade and but tons. As the ooaoh reached the shade of the oak tho ooaohman drew up to rest his horses. Suddenly the door was thrown open and a gentleman, dressed in the elaborate oostnmo of the day, sprang ont and holding out both hands cried: “Elizabeth I Elizabothl" “ When mother heard him,” said my informant, “ I saw hor turn white and lean baok against tho tree; her lips moved bnt sho made no reply, ' Eliza beth I’ he repeated, 1 have I no place in thy memory ? I have never forgotten, never oan forget.* “What mother answered I do rot know. Something she said in a low voice, and for some minutes they talked together in an undertone. Then mothor began to cry and she made a motion to him with her hand, as she did to us children when she wished us to loave her. I heard tho words ' Thomas, thee has a wife.' With that the gentleman put his handkerchief to his eyes, entered the coach • and • was rapidly driven away. “ Mother sat crying for a long time under the oak, and I was so frightened I did not dare speak, nor did I say a word about it to her for soveral years. Then ono day I asked: “ ‘Mother, will thee toll me who that gentloman was who spoko to thee under Iho oak troe?” “ ‘ That, Anna,’ she replied in her usual calm tone, ‘ was Governor Ebs worth, of Maryland. I knew him when I was a girl. Bat as ho was associated with much that was painful in my early life, I should prefer that thee would not speak to tqo of him again.’ “ And I never did." — Our Continent. A Chance for Invcntom. A machino is greatly needed in many parts of tho country for twisting to gether swamp hay, the straw of grain, bushes and the small branohes removed rom trees in tho operation of trimming them, for tho purpose of utilizing them for fuel. Such materials are extensive ly employed in many parts of Europo for hosting houses and for cooking food. They are twisted together or tied by hand. Although this country is well supplied with wood and coal, and the facilities for transporting them are excellent in most sections, still there are places where the inhabitants are obliged to rely entirely on the ma terials at hand for fuel for warming and cooking. They have an abundance of hay and straw, and sometimes bushos and tho branohes of trees that have been planted. If they are twisted together and bound they form very good and convenient fuel for domestio pur poses. The materials as prepared should be nearly in the form of sticks of slove wood. In addition to being twisted they should bo bound so that they can bo conveniently handled. A machine that would accomplish these results would bo of very groat valuo in many portions of the West, and especially so in the # treeless, coalless sections of tho great wheat-growing region. It should be of ample construction, not liable to get out of order, and cheap. Large machines might bo constructed that could bo moved from one house to an other, as thrashing machines now are, but small machines are more desirable, so that every settler could have one. The machines would be valuable in places whero there is a supply of coal but no wood that can be employed for kindling purposes or for supporting brisk fires that are often required for cooking meals. With a suitable ma chine a substitute for wood could be obtained from materials now wasted, at the expenso of a little labor.— Chicago Times. The National Soldiers’ Home, near Hampton, Ya., bos now abont eight hundred inmates, and is to have a new wing this season, increasing its capacity to one thousand. A new brick building costing #35,000 has just been completed. The enlargement of the building is found necessary, owing to the increased num ber of applicants from the old volunteers for admiiMion. MO.VEXIOTS 3!A WEES. Tho #2,100,000,000 assessed upon personal and real property in New York oity scarcely tolls the story of the wealth on Manhattan island, as roal estate is assessed at only sixty por cent, oi its value, persoml property largely escapes altogether, and 8100,000,000 of church and school property is exempt. Ono million dollars is waiting for some one. Police Superintendent Wal ling, of New York oity,has born requested to oauso search to be made for the heirs or noxt of kin of Goorge Frederick Rappold, who died a year ago in Go neva, Switzerland, leaving an estate of #2,000,000. lie was a native of Germany, and was temporarily stopping at Genova at the time of his death. It appears that ho left no will. His wife got pos session of the half of his property, and tho other half is now awaiting claim ants. His immediate lvlativos consist of a family named Fluhrer, who emi grated to this oountry several years ago and aro known to have set tlod in New York oity. A scientific experiment, not unlike that performed on the soldior St. Mar tin, by which the time of digestion of various artiolos of food was for the first time accurately ascertained, has been tried in St. Louis, not with a viow to scienoe so much as with referonoe to prolonging tho lifo of a man who was starving to death on account of somo malignant stricture in his stomach. His doctor informed him that ho could live longer and more comfortably by means of a hole out into his stomach. After eight days the wound was healed so that food could bo introduced, tko pa tient first masticating it. The doctor observed that as soon as tho patient be gan to mastioute his food the gastrio juiee in the stomach began to flow through tho opening, showing tho in timate connection between tho stomaoh and the early prooessos by whioh food is prepared for it. Indeed, it was made certain, in the St. Martin case, wo be lieve, tbat the smell of food even stimu lates the flow of the gastrio juices. The king of Italy eeemed surprised on a reoont occasion whon a party of nine Protestant ministers were pre sented to him, ono as a Wesleyan Meth odist, another as a Baptist, the third as a Presbyterian, tho fourth as a Wal- denso, and so on. “I do not under stand,” said King Humbert, “how yon oan all be ministers of tho same gospel and yet have so many distinctions. Perhaps ono of ydh will bo so good us to explain to mo.’’ Ono of tho number promptly replied : “In yonr majesty’s army these are many regiments wearing different uniforms, and cnllod by dif fered names ; nevertheless, they aro all under ono oommandor-in-ohlef and fol low one flag. In like manner we Prot estants are divided into several denom inations, but wo know only ono chief— Jesus Ghrlst-s-and wo follow bnt ono banner, namely, that of tho gospel of our oruoified and risen Lord.” It is said that the king listened attentively, and, thanking the speaker for his clear explanation, said: “You wish mo to understand that while there aro differ ences among you on minor matters, there is unity in all that is essential." The Protestant ministers, thanking the king for his courtesy, then withdrew. Military lcrnm Explained. Fatigue duty means details made from companies for duty, work of all kinds, such as leading and unloading quartermaster and commissary wagons, repairing roads^ditches, etc. Police duty is the keeping of the camp in order, sweeping, eto., and [is generally performed by the old guard, though sometimes a special detail is mode for the purpose. A Acid work is a work of dirt thrown up for the purpose of giv ing protection from the enemy's firo. Tho best order for firing with the breechloading rifles is in open order or as skirmishers. If a call sounds to fire, a soldier fires only when ho sees something to shoot at. File closers are non-commissioned officers or men marching in rear of com pany and their duties are to check all disorders, keep tho ranks well closed up, and to caution men who are firing too high. File-closers never take part in firing unless the command is hard pressed, at close quarters and when every available musket is needed TacticB is the art of moving troops in the presence of an enemy. Strategy is the science of conducting tho opera tions of war ought of sight of the onemy. An aligment is tho line upon which droops are formed or dressed. A point of appni is the point of rest or toward which companies are dressed. A pivot is the fixed or movable point upon which a change of direction is made. .A deployment is the forming of a column of twos or fours into line-' a ployment is the forming from line into column At a recent school examination the son of a coal dealer was asked how many pounds there were in a ton. He missed. Sunflowers,lilies, poppies and peacock feathers are now in good demand. Morplioinanla, When physicians discovered that pain Could be subdued by inserting undor the skin a small pointed instrument provided with a tube containing mor phia, they littlo thought that they wero paving the way for a new vice. Yet to it was. Thero are in our merry England boings who are as wholly under the domination of morphia as ever the Chinese were under that of opium Women have yielded by degrees to its fatal fascination, until at lost thov prick the skin a dozen times # a day with the tiny syringe that has such terriblo re sults. The operation is almost painless; the immediate effects pleasant. A do- lioious languor supervenes. Happy thoughts and bright imaginations fill tho mind. Bomo see beautiful visions, others fool only a pervading sensation of comfort and well being. On a few the effeot of morphia is to excite to somo intellectual effoit, if effort that can be called which is pure delight, a glorious feeling of nntrammeied power or uncrippled, exercise of tho highest faculties. It is as though tko mind had suddenly developed wingp. But at the very height of the enchant ment tho influence of morphia begins to subside. The glory fades. Tho wings trail, and tho feet that are their sorry substitutes become weighted as with lead. As with the workers, so with the dreamers. The visions aro ob scured. The sensation of comfort gives plaeo to one of discomfort, irritation, even pain. The mental vision that had just now looked throngh a rosy mist sees all things as through a crape veil or a November fog. Can it bo wondorod at that tho doso is renewed, that the .poison is absorbed again and again, tbat the intervals become shorter botweon the reign of tho potent drug? And the end? The pmishment is terriblo indeed. By degrees the mind becomes darkened. Hideous hallucina tions seize upon it. Self-control is lost. Imbecility overtakes the weak. Madness threatens tho strong. These are the personal consequenoes There are others to be boqueathed to sons and daughters, and later genera tions. These can be guessed at, The now vice has not roignod sufficiently long for the world to havo seen them exemplified, bnt a dark array of possi bilities suggests itself only too readily. The heritage of insanity, of inobriety, of imbecility, with its future to be traced back to those tiny tubes whioh hold only a drop or two, and to which men once looked as to a blessed means of relieving pain, forgetting that bless ings and curses go hand in hand in a orooked world. Dipsomania has now a poworfol rival, speodier in its results than its own revolting prooess, and eventually as degrading. The name of the later-bora sister fiend is Morpko- manir.—London Truth. 1‘reelonn Opal. Since tho time Fliny accurately described his opalus to. tho present day this handsome mineral has been csteemod a gem, tkongh not always assigned the same rank; for fashion, in its capricious vagaries, displaces and reinstates it in favor at Irregular inter vals. Its innate beauty so happily ckar&oterized in the lines, “ Milky opals that gloam and shino I.iko sullen fires throngh a pa'Iid mist," coupled with the fact that it is perhaps the only stone really defying imitation, has enabled it to eventually hold its own. Tho high rank awarded it in ancient times was undoubtedly largely due to the comparative ease with whioh it oonfd be worked, and also to the foot that unlik j all other precious stones muok of its beauty was reve.led and available without any labor. The stiango popular belief of modem days that opal is an unluoky stone to the wearer, appears to be directly traceable to Sir Walter Scott’s romance of “ Anno of Geierstein.” In its usual occurrence in scams or veins in porphyry and igneous rocks, it is plainly an inflltratios of gelatinous sil ica (silica in the colloid state), often mixed with considerable oyrstalloid sil ica, and retaining more or less of the original combined water. Indeed, pre- oioas opal proper seems, as a rule, to contain more water than the other vari eties. Until within the Fast few years the greater part of the material for commerce has been of Hungarian and Mexioan origin, bnt a new sonreo of supply has been discovered in Queensland. In the variety from this looality, which may in some respects be considered unique, the usual fiery re flections ore displaced partly or oven entirely by tho most splendent metallic hues—greens and blues of every con ceivablo shade—the individual colors in some instances being arranged in moro or less distinctly defined bands or zones, or again imperceptibly melting into each other and vying with the plumage of humming birds in magnifi cence. Clearly the old descriptions will need enlarging to cover this latest addition to the numerous forms of silica.—F. W. Staebnir. When one woman scans the horizon for signs of the dawn of a bright era, ten are scouting among their neighbors trying to borrow salcratus. OVIT EACH PEESEXT*. The Vnrlaas Article* Receive* hr the Cm- ileinne* Aasa*>ln—A Chant* ef Spirit*. The popular reprobation of the sosaa- sin’s crime is still manifested in differ ent ways. The oommon mod* o(im pressing the feeling against ths says a correspondent, is to send a- rope suggestively noosed* These rope# began to come by express and mail before the trial, and are still coming in. They have been sent to the district at torney, to Mr. Seoville, to the oi tho jail and to ths A little room at the jail is strewn with ropes received from various parts of the oountry. Borne of them are ropes such as are generally used in executions, with the conventional hangman’s noose • skillfully made. Many other little re- s minders of the fate that awaits him' .' come iq the mail to thc assassin, but the warden, as a rule, keeps them from his A eyes. Cheap oomio pictures representing the gallows with a dangling viotiip era also sent to the assassin. In every’ nook in the district attorney's oflloe hen be found some testimonial of popular., feeling respecting the assassin. Ifrny of the things received have been de stroyed. In ono corner of Mr. Cork- ‘ hill’s privato offioo is a little heap of ropes. A bundle of switohes was sant to the soonndrel from Florida. A citi zen of Osceola, Iowa, in order to testify, to bis feelings in a unique way, invested #0 50. in a pair of white kids and a fine 8 whito satin tie, tho tips of whioh he dyed blood red. Ho sent these with a request that tkoy be worn by, the cul prit on tho scaffold, the red marks' to testify the innocent blood of his vie-' tim. They now form a part of the dis trict attorney’s museum. ■ . From Ohio came a little wooden bojt, opened on one side. It contained a miniature rcuffold, on whioh a paper image of a man was hanging,; labile a score of paper women wore hauling on the rope. These wero, according to the insoription on the box, “The women of Ohio " Among other curiosities saved by the district attorney is a miniature scaffold and coffin, very neatly constructed, and a gallows-tree, with an effigy six or seven Jnohes long suspended upon i,t. There is also a little coffin, the open lid of which exposes a death’s head Tho coffin is inscribed “ Strangulstus pro diabolo, 1882.” All sorts of pictnres, cartoons and letters have been reoeivod and de stroyed. During tho early part of the trial a great many gags of various pat terns, the oommon form being a corn cob with strings tied at each end, were reoeivod, with a request that they lie applied to the prisoner. Some of these have been preserved. In the same eon- neotion may be mentioned various pots of glue and mucilage, sent with the suggestion that the villain’s mouth be glued up. Many patent medicine firms, doubtless with an eye to an advertise ment, sont tho district attorney sam ples of tkoir wares, proposing that he dose liimsolf with tho mixtures so that his health should not fail him until ho had convicted the prisoner. The district attorney has also received a large amount of Confederate money to bo turned over to the prisoner. One imposing testimonial letter, signed “ Citizens,” contained ono copper penny to be given to Mr. Booville to aid in the defense. A letter reoeivod from New Waterford, Oonn., from a rope-maker, proposed to make for the assassin a red, white and bine rope out of siik or any other material the district attorney might seleet. One of the most ghastly onrloBities in the museum is a black cap sent by an unknown friend of jus- tice. A letter that camo from Chicago sug gested as the proper mode of execution that tho assassin be fastened to a tope 300 feet long, the other end being at tached to a balloon, which would give him a veritable “ flight to glory." The demon, acoording to Warden Orocker, has become as docile as ■ lamb; doesn’t insist upon having his own way as he did during the trial, and does what he is ordered to do without a murmur. Ho has lost muoh of his accustomed bravado, and does not be come so excited when in conversation. General Ciooker states that he doemnot believe any man under sentence, ol death ever more fully appreciated the awful situation than the condemned. He has beoome very mneh depressed iu spirits and shows it. He behaves with perfeot decorum, and there is not a sign of insanity in his conversation or actions. He is denied the privilege of seeing visitors now altogether, and this seems to worry him. Wi ' VM r | : Clerks in the French government offices are not so well paid as to make i struggle for’ places so great in race as in some other lands. On an average the salary is only 2,500 or about #500 a year, and the mi them marry on this and have children* Rent costs them at least #100 a year, clothing and linen another #100, if not #120, and geheral expenses about #100, thus leaving them #180 for food, drink, and the dowry of the daugbtgfe

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The Mercury. (Sandersville, Ga.) 1880-1???, March 21, 1882, Image 1