Newspaper Page Text
0
►
JOURNAL AND MESSENGER.
THE FAMILY JOURNAL—NEWS—POLITIOS-{LITERATUBE--AGRICULTUK£—DOMESTIC N'EWS^Etc.—PRICE $2.00 PER ANNUM-
GEORGIA TEIi APH BUILDING
ESTABLISHED 1826.
MACON, FRIDAY. FEBRUARY 17, 1882.
VOLUME LVI-NO 7
TOMYltOV.
C*mo here, my Ml LdJIc! Come stan’ up
alane.
Nor lean on thy miunmle, my wcc«m»Je wean;
U'lie ftr>t steps o’ life yc are Ukln’ the day,
Ah! little ye ken o’ its dark stormy way!
I look through the future, an’ ever noblest
Ye’ll And a rough Journey, wl’ little o neat;
Misfortune an’ aorrow, an turmoil an pain;
But sum’ up, my laddie! oh, stan tip alane.
Temptations will come, wl' their bright, lurinj
But suin'*up, my laddie: stan' up for the rlcht;
Ne’er barter your honor for office or gain.
But stan’ up, my laddie! oh, stan up alane.
Temptations will come, an’ sadness an’ care.
But *eek your kind Father In fervor an prayer.
And o'er your dear life, Ills goodness will
reign.
He’ll gie yo the power to stan' up alane.
7 —Robert Duncan Elder.
YOUR MONEY OR YOUR LIFE.
A Tale or Hy I.andItuly.
BY WILKIE COLLINS.
CHAPTER I.
Wc should all have enjoyed our visit to
Sir John's country house but for Mr. Cos
way.
And to make matters worse, it was not
Mr. Cosway but we who ware to blame.
Our society repeated the old story of
Adam and Eve, on a largo ocale. The
women were the first sinners, aud the
men jwero demoralized hy the women.
Mr. Cosway’s bitterest enemy could not
have denied that he was a handsome,
well-bred, unassuming man. No mystery
Of any sort attached to him. lie had
adopted tlie navy as a profession—had
grown weary of it after a few years’ ser
vice—and now lived on the moderate in
come left him after the death of his pa
rents. Out of this unpromising material
the lively imagination of tho women
bniltun a romance. The men only
only noticed that Mr. Cosway was rather
silent and thoughtful; that he was -not
ready with his laugh; and that ho had a.
fancy for taking long walks by himself. •
Harmless peculiarities, surely. And yet
they excited the cur.osity of the women
as signs of a mystery In Mr. Cosway’s past
life, iu which some beloved object un
known must Lave played a chief part.
When l asted my wife to explain what
had led to this extraordinary conclusion,
she answered with satirical emphasis,
“You don’t look below the surface; we
do.”
As a matter of course, the iuflueuco of
the sox was tried, under every indirect
and delicate formof approach, to induce
Mr. Cos way to open his heart and tell
the la'e of bis sorrows. With tho most
perfect courtesy on that “surface” of
which my wife had spokeu—and with the
moit immovable obstinacy under it—he
bafiled curiosity, and kept his supposed
secret to himself. The most beautilul girl
in the house was, to my certain knowl
edge, ready to oiler herself aud her for
tune as consolations, if this impenetrable
bachelor would only have tak( a her into
his confidence. He smiled sadly, and
changed tho subject.^
Defeated so far, tbfc- women accepted
the next allcrn,t;yU • *
1 ae of the guesu staying in tho house
’,C.o»way’t ityUuate friend—for-
a bjothWo*fe^» f iQii hoard ship.
Wtf! HitWas now Wbjected to the
[acted ayfodLoHavestigaiiou
“ lad wkli 4.a hnend. With
referred
tOfr. Cos-
, . , . jstoue.' /Mo ladies
A Vrtrlby of his
the news-
tad risen from
otic of them
l 'n%is right hand,
iissto say, at the
l marriages; and
liberal news—the
folde departures,
she indig-
:t »uer In her lap.
if.Jao man,” she
stupidity
t place, I
r'of swim-
lu^tuv^-^rhare left
o’ thit bi'ltw as they de-
said Sir
gentleman
er. After
bel an Idiotic
tie boat up-
P?”f?a'r man tries to
}ned along with
iiamefui! shameful!
knew
«,.IC ll(Ui 1
retomed .
hixod pfftB. She r _.
since that few we*
she accompli*h***
cnltY. .llavl"
MtMjV •*»
Inc hf ..ere
ClUTSt .•r<’ , >T¥
Eiui iivHhm&ntioned?”
itm.tggstrangers to me; I
Asserting herself in
ife banded the uews-
;ay, who happened to ait
you were iu the navy,”
are say your life was
taking women in boats,
and let It he a warning
L ture.”
at the narrative of
(Vreled the romantic
L -*- . burst of devout
these words;
I-k ^),yr iadrowned!”
EVkw InflWWf’ struck speech
r'd»*»TO?iHftl»;tf}is way that Cos-
> «.married man, is to say very
J h6.general impression appeared
rhAWas mad. Ills neighbors at
7,drew hack from him, with
Caption of hia friend. Mr. Stone
‘’’be newspaper, pressed Mr. Cos-
l In silent sympathy, and ad-
r nself to Mir John,
j mo to make yonr friend’s apol-
i said, “until he is composed
j set for himself. The circnm-
f.aie so extraordinary tint I ven-
—) think they excuse him. Will you
_f‘ us to speak to you privately?”
C T^'OAr host, with moro apologies address-
Ad >i» hla visitors, opened the door which
^cSmmuuicmted with his study. Mr. Stone
took Mr. Cosway’s arm and led him out
' of the room. He noticed no one, spoke
to no one—he moved mechanically, like a
man walking in bis sleep.
For nearly two hours we were left to ex
orcise our ingenuity in attempting to ac
count for Mr. Cos way’s wonderful out
burst of gratitude at the drowning of bis
wife, aud Mr. Stone’s mysterious defense
or him. At the end oi the long interval,
Sir John returned alone to the breakfast-
room. Mr. Cosway and Mr. Stone had
already taren their departure for Loudon,
With their host’s entire approval.
“It is left to my discretion,” Sir John
proceeded, “to repeat to you what I have
heard in the study.” A general outcry
interrupted I he apeaker. “Oh, pray let
us hear it!’’ Sir John smiled indulgently.
“You shall hear it,” he said, “on one con
dition—that you all consider yourselves
bound tu ho no; not to mention the true
names and the real places wbea you tell
the story to others.”
1 cannot honestly sav that the art of
unfolding the intricacies ot a narrative
was one of the accomplishment* possessed
by the master of the house. It Is no act
of presumption on my part i! I here under
take to improve on our host’s method of
telling the story—using no other conceal
ments than those which we all readily
bound ourselves to observe. The events
which preseded and followed Mr. Cosway’s
disastrous marriage resolve themselves, to
my mind, iu certain well-marked divisions.
Following this arrangement,.tat me relate:
toe frst epoch in MR. cosway’s life.
The sailing of Her Majesty’s ship Albi-
core was deferred by the severe illness of
the captain. A gentleman not possessed
of political influence might, after the
doctor's unpromising report of him,- have
been superseded by another commanding
officer. In the present case the lords of
the Admiralty showed themselves to bo
models of patience and sympathy. They
kept the vessel in port, wa<t f ng the cai
tain’s recovery.
Among the unimportant junior officers,
not wanted on board under these circum
stances, and iavored accordingly by ob
taining leave to wait for orders on shore,
were two young men, aged respectively
twenty-two and twenty-three years, aud
known by the names of Cosway and
Stone. Tho scene which now introduces
them opens a: a famous sea-poit ou the
South coast of England, and discloses the
two young gentlemen at dinner in a pri
vate room at their inn.
“I think that last bottle of champagne
was corked,” Cosway remarked. “Let’s
try another. You’ro nearest the bell,
Stone; ring.”
Stone rang, under protest. He was
the elder of the two by a year, aud he
sat an example of discretion.
“I am afraid we are running up a terri
ble bill,” he said. “We have been here
more than three weeks ”
“Aud have denied ourselves nothing,”
Cosway added. Wo have lived like
princes. Another bottle of champagne,
waiter. We have our riding-horses, and
our carriage, aud the best box at the
theater, and such cigars as London itself
could uot produce. I call that making
the most of life. Try tho uew bottle.
Glorious drink, isn’t it? Why doesn’t my
father have champagne at tbo family din
ner-table?”
“Is your father a rich man, Cosway?”
“I should say not. He didn’t give me
anything like the mouoy I expected when
lsaid good-by—and I rather think he
warned me solemuiy, at parting, to take
the greatest care of It. ‘There’s not a
«"»hiug more for you,’ he said, ‘till your
vs from her South American
sta iou.- Your father is a clergyman,
St me.”
“Well, and what of that?”
“And some clergymen are rich.”
“My father is notone of them, Cosway.”
“Then let us say no more about him.
Help yourself, and pass the bottle.”
Instead of adopting this suzgestion,
Stone rose with a very grave face, and once
more ra. g the bell. “Ask the landlady
to step up,” he said, when the waiter ap
peared.”
“What do you want with the landlady?”
Cosway inquired.
“I want the bill.”
The landlady—otherwise, Mrs. I’ounce
—entered the room. She was short, and
old, aud fat, and painted, and a widow.
Students of character, as revealed in the
face, would have discovered malice and
and cunning iu her bright little black
eyes, and a bitter vindictive temper in the
lines about her thin red lips. Incapable
of such subtleties of analysis as these, the
two young officers differed widely, never
theless, in their opinions of Mrs. Pounce.
Cosway’s reckless sense of humor delight
ed in pretending to bo in love with her.
Stone took a dislike to her from the first.
When his friend asked for the reason, he
made a strangely obscure answer. “Do
you remember that morning in tho wood
when you killed the snake?” he said.
“That’s my reason.” Cosway made no
fur her inquiries.
“Well, my young heroes,” cried Mrs.
Pounce (always loud, always clieeiiul,
and always tamiliar with her guests),
“whatdo you want with me now?”
“Take a glass of champagne, my dar
ling,” said Cosway; “and let me try If I
can get my arm around your waist. That’s
ainTwant with you.”
The landlady passed this over without
notice. Though she had spoken to both
of them, her cuuning little eyes rested on
Stone from the moment when she appear
ed la the room, She knew by instinct the
man who disliked her—and she waited
deliberately for Stoue to reply.
“We have been here some time,” he
said, “and we shall be obliged ma’am, if
you will let us have our bill.”
Mrs. Pounce lifted up ber eyebrows with
an expression of innocent surprise.
‘•Has the Captain got well, and must
you go on board to night?” she asked.
“Nothing of the sort!" Cosway inter
posed. “We have no news of the captaiD,
and we are going to the theater to-night.”
“But,” persisted Stone, “wo want, it
you please, to have the bill.”
“Certainly, sir,” .aid Mrs. Ponuce, with
a sudden assumption of respect. “But
we are very busy down stairs, and we
hope you will not press us for it to-night.-’
“Of course not!” cried Ccsway.
Mrs. Pounce instantly left the room,
without waiting for any fuither remark
from Cosway’s friend.
“I wish wc bad gone to some other
house,” said Stone. “You mark my
words—that woman rncaOs to cheat us.”
Cosway expressed his dissent from this
opinion iu the most amiable manner. He
filled’bis friend’s glass, and begged bim
not to say ill-natured things of Mrs.
Pounce.
Bnt Stone’s usually smooth temper
seemed to be ruffled; he insisted on bis
own view. “She’s impudent and inquisi
tive,1f she is not downright dishonest,”
he said. “Wbat right had she to ask you
where we lived when w. were at flume;
and what our Christian names were; and
which of us were the oldest, you or I?
Ob, yes; it’s all very well to say she only
showed a flattering interest in us! I sup
pose she showed a flattering interest in
my attain when I woke a little earlier
than usual and caught herinmy bedroom
with my pockctbook in her hand. Do
you beliere she was going to lock It up for
safety’s sake? She knows how much
money wo have got as well w wo know it
ourselves. # Every half-penny we have
will be in her pocket to-morrow. And a
good thing too—we shall be obliged to
leave the house.”
Even this cogent reasoning failed in
provoking Cosway to reply. He took
Sfouc’s hat, and handed it with the utmost
politeness to his foreboding friend.
“There’s only one remedy for such a state
of mind as yours,” he said. “Come to
the theater.” •
“At tea o’clock the next morning Cos
way found himself alone at the break
fast table. He was informed that Mr.
Stone had gone out for a little walk, and
would be back directly. Seating himself
at the table, he perceived an envelope on
his plate, whicli evidently enclosed the
bill. He took up the envelops, considered
a little, and put it back again uuopened.
At the same moment Stone burst into the
room in a high state of excitement.
“News that will astonish yon!” he cried.
“The captain arrived yesterday evening.
His doctors say that the sea voyage will
complete his recovery. The ship sails to
day—and we are ordered to report onr-
selves on board in an hour’s time. Where’s
the bill?”
Coaway pointed to it. Stone took it
out of the envelope.
It covered two sides of a prodigiously
long sheet of paper. The sum total Was
brightly decorated with lines in red i:ik.
Stone looked at the total, aud passed it
in silence to Cosway. For once, even
Cosway was prostrated.. [In dreadful still
ness, the two young men ptodneed their
pocketbooks, added up their joint atorea
of money, and compared tbe result with
the bill. Their united resources amount
ed to a little more than one-third of their
debt to the landlady of the Inn.
The only alternative that presented it
self was to send for Mrs. Pounce, to state
tbe circumstances plainly, and to propose
a compromise on tho grand commercial
basis of credit.
Mrs. Pounce presented herself superbly
dressed in walking-costume. Was she
going out? or had she just returned to
the Inn? Not a word escaped her; she
waited gravely to hear what the gentle
men wanted. Cosway, presuming ou his
position as favorite, produced the contents
of the two pocketbooks, aud revealed the
melancholy truth.
“There is all the money we have,” ho
concluded. “We hope you will not ob
ject to receiving tho balance in a bill at
three months.”
Mrs. Pounce answered with a stern
composure of voice and manner entirely
new in the experience of Cosway and
Stone.
“I have paid ready money, gentlemen,
for tbe hire of your horses and carriages,”
she sard; “here are the receipts from the
livery stables to vouch for »e; 1 never
Tbe CToIsbk Bee me*.
Baltimore San.
Antonio M. Soteldo, shot in a rencount
er at tbe Republican office on Thursday
night, died ol his wound at Providence
Hospital, at 10:30 last night. “I’m done
for, Bliss,” said he to the physician who
sat beside him, and in a few minutes ho
was dead. At his bod aide were his sister,
his brother-in-law. General Boyotou, Mr.
Carson, Father Hughes and others. The
coroner was notified, aud an autopsy held
at II o’clock Sunday.
Tho autopsy took place at tbo'death
ward of Providence Hospital, a small brick
building in the rear of the institution,
with a single 12 by 10-room lighted by
three small windows near the roof, whose
plain whitewashed walls showed nothing
bat tbe crucifix, a print of tbe “Sacred
Heait of Maty” and one of St Vincent de
Paul. The body lay upsn a “coolingboard”
wrapped in a winding shept, while a piv
oted dissecting table, some supports aud
cbalrs completed the appointments of the
place. At 11 o’clock Dr. Bliss reached
SvTtT \T the hospital and the autopsy was conduct-
accept bills unless I am quite sure before . e j t,y Deputy Coroner Ilartgan, undor the
hand that they will bo honored. I defy niw „i,i„„,;fn r rii«. .nL n n,. n »».
you to find an overcharge in tbe account
now rendered; and I expea you to pay it
before you leave my house.”
Stone looked at his watch. “In three-
quarters of an honr,” he said, “we must
be on board."
Mrs. Pounce entirely agreed with him.
“And if you are not ou board,” she re
marked, “you will be tried by court-mar
tial, and dismissed from tbe service with
your characters ruined for life.” _
“My dear creature, we haven’t' time to
send home, and we know nobody in tbe
town,” pleaded Cosway. “For God’s
sake, take our watches and jewelry, and
our luggage and let us go.”
“I am no pawnbroker,” said the inflex
ible landlady. “Yon must cither pay
your lawful debt to me in honest money,
or ”
“ She paused and looked at Cosway. Her
fat face brightened—she smiled gracious
ly for the first time.
Cosway stared at her in nuconcealed
perplexity. Ho helplessly repeated her
last words. “We must either pay the
bill,” he said, “or—what?”
“Or,” answered Mrs. Pounce, “one of
you must marry me.”
Was she joking? Was she intoxicated?
Was she out of her senses? Neither oi
the three; she was in perfect possession of
herself: her explanation was a model of
lucid and convincing arrangement of facts.
“My position here lias its drawbacks,”
she began. “I am a lone widow; I am
known to have an excellent business, and
to have saved money. Tbo result is that
I am pestered to death by a set of needy
vagabonds who want to marry me. In
this position I am exposed to slanders and
insults. Even if I didn’t know that the
men were after my money, there is not
one of them whom I would venture to
marry. He might turn out a tyrant, and
beat me; or a drunkard, and disgrace me;
or a betting mau, and ruin me. Wbat I
want, yon see, for my own peace and pro
tection, is to be able to declare myself
married, and to produce the proof in the
shape of a certificate. A born gentiemau,
with a character to lose,. aud so much
younger in years than myself that he
wouldn’t think of living with me—there
is the sort of husband that suits my book!
I’m a reasonable woman, gentlemen. I
would undertake to part with my hus
band at the church door—never to at
tempt to see bim or write to him after
ward—and only to show my certificate
when necessary, without giving any ex
planations. Your secret would be quite
safe in my keeping. I don’t care a straw
for either of you, so long as you answer
my purpose. What do you say to paying
my bill (one or the other of you) in this
way? I am ready dressed for the altar;
and the clergyman has notice at the
church. My preference is for Mr. Cos
way,” proceeded this terrible woman with
the crudest irony, “because he has been
so particular in his attentions toward me.
The license (which I provided on the
chauce a fortnight since) is made out in
his name. Such i3 my weakness for Mr.
Cosway. But that don’t matter if Mr.
Stone wonld like to take his place. He
can hail hy his friend’s name. Oh, yes;
he can! I have consulted my lawyer. So
long a3 the bride and bridegroom agree
to it, they may he married in any name
they like, and it stands good. Look at
your watch again, Mr. Stone. The church
is in the next street. By my calculation,
you have just got five minutes to decide.
I am a punctual woman, my little dears,
and I will be back to the moment.”
She opened the door, paused, and re
turned to the room.
“I ought to have mentioned,” she re
gained, “that I shall make you a present
of tho bill, receipted, on the conclusion of
the ceremony. You will bo taken to the
ship in my own boat, witli all your money
in yonr pockets, and a hamper of good
things for tho mess. After that, I wash
my bands of you. You may go to tbe
devil your own way.”
With this parting benediction she left
them.
Caught in tbe .landlady’s trap, tho two
victims looked at each other in expressive
silence. Without time enough to take
legal advice; without friends on shore;
without any claim on officers of their 6wn
standing in tbe ship, the prospect before
them was literally limited to marriage or
rain. Stone made a proposal worthy ot a
hero.
“One of us must marry her,” he said;
“I ata ready to toss up for It.”
Cosway matched him in generosity.
“No,” he answered. “It was I who
brought you here, and I who led you into
these infernal expenses. I ought to pay
the penalty—and I will."
Before Stone could remonstrate, the fire
minutes expired. Punctual Mrs. Pounco
appeared in tho doorway.
“Well,” she inquired, “which is it to to
—Cosway or Stone ?”
Cosway advanced as reckless as ever,
and offered his arm.
“Now then Fatsides,” he said, “come
and be married!”
In five and twenty minutes more Mrs.
Pounce had become Mrs. Cosway; and
tho two officers were on their way to the
ship.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
A column in a Philadelphia paper
headed, “In Good Society,” divulges the
following: “Tho practice of drinking is
more common among women than it was
a year ago. The number of young mar
ried ladies who drink wine with gentle
men is Increasing, and, strange as it may
appear, the effectual protection against
over-indulgence by youug unmarried
ladles upon which society depends, is the
honor of'tbe gentleman. Young ladles
seldom are able to judge bow much wine
they ought to drink, and some wines have
more intoxicating effect than others. A
gentleman who would persuade or deceive
a lady into drinking more wine than was
good for ber would be almost sure to for
feit her esteem ever afterward, and in any
event would incur the strongest displeas
ure of her relatives if they found it out.
This is one of the reasons why sometimes
iu taking a young lady home the gentle
man has the driver go a mile or so out of
tlm way In order to get a little fresh air.
Where there is dancing it is considered
indiscreet to drink early In the evening,
since if the lady falls by accident or has
many collisions she is sure to be accused
of ‘taking too much,’ as they say. For
that reason drinking is usually deferred
until after the dauclng.”
supervision of Dr. Bliss, and in the pres
cncc of the coroner, Dr. Patterson, and
Doctors Mallen, Sowers, Bsyne, Roberts
and Student McLaughlin. Mr. Clemeuls,
brother-in-law of the deceased,tJudertaker
Barker, and others, General Boynton,
Major Carson and a correspondent of the
Sun, were tbs only representatives present
when the autopsy begun, but reporters of
city papers and others afterwards arrived.
A pair of apothecary’s .scales was brought
in and placed on tho table to weigh the
ball when it should be recovered.
S [The autopsy was begun by an incision
into the neck of the deceased between
the tliird and fourth joints, following tho
course of tbe ball. The neck and throat
wero carefully examined, as from tbe
statements of Mr. Soteldo, after he had
been wounded, it was thought that ths
ball had lodged in the phatynx. It was
not found there. More cutting and prob
ing iu several directions failed to come
upon the ball, and the wound having
beeu followed to the back bone, it was
ascertained that no deflection had taken
place. One probe was broken In the
search. Then to complete lhe search it
became necessary to take out tho back
bone of the neck. With chisel, saw and
knife the cervical vertebra; were removed
together, laid upon the table, and the
search went on. Presently the probe fell
in with a click and stood upright above
the bloody chain of bones. Leaving the
probe In place as a guide, Dr. Hartigan
sawed tbe bone asunder aud exposed,
close alongside the lacerated spinal cord
and pressing Into it, tbo lead that ail tho
doctors agreed in that place must have
put the patient “past all surgery.” The
hall was taken out by Dr. Hartigan and
handed to Coroner Patterson, who pro
ceeded to weigh it aud found its weight
87 grains. In the meantime the physi
cians concurred that the ball had entered
between the third and fourth cervical
vertebra, a little to the left of the central
line, and become imbedded in tho fourth
cervical vertebra, the lef; side of the
spinal cord, with its apex forward, pressed
into and lacerating the spinal cord.
The finding of the bullet does not re
move the doubts in connection with the
matter. Those who have seen both of the
bullets—that is, the one that was found in
Mr. Barton’s neck by Dr. Bliss and tlm
one found to-day in the autopsy made by
Dr. Hartigan—are as much divided io
opinion as they were before cither were
found. Others conclude that tbo bullet
that killed Mr. Soteldo was not fired from
either of the three pistols non in tbe hands
of the police, but from another pistol,
which has disappeared. Discussion on
this subject to-night Is very freely indulg
ed in. To adopt tho latter theory, ono
must believe that Barton bad two pistols.
Experts in firearms declare that what is
known as the Copeland pistol, which Mr.
Barton says he fired, has not been fired for
a long time and tho barrel is rusty. Had
it been fired it is said that the barrel would
have been cleaned out. It will take the
official investigation which will be made
at tho inquest to-morrow to settle the
question, and in the meantime any state
ment would have to be made on opinion
or a guess.
There is a great deal of feeling displayed
by tho parties who are interested iu the
case, and as usual in such matters, all
sort of exaggerated stories, doing injustice
to both thelivlng and the dead, are freely
put iu circulation, and as freely told and
retold, often by those who have no inten
tion of doing wrong to either side. The
inquest wilf be held'to-morrow.
Mrs. Clements, tbe sUtcrof Augustus C.
Soteldo, had an interview with her brother
at the jail this morning. When she ap
proached tbo young man threw himself
intedier arms and sobbed loudly; ber cries
were mingled with his, and tho guards
withdrew, some of them weeping, from a
scene of so much painful emotion.
Mr. Barton has so far recovered that it
is expected ho will resume his duties on
tbe Republicans within ten days.
Home Aducntloa.
The following rales are worthy of be
ing printed in letters of gold, and placed
in a conspicuous place In every house
hold:
1. From our children’s earliest infancy
inculcate the necessity of instant obedi
euce.
2. Unite firmness with gentleness. Let
yonr children always understand that
you mean what you say.
Q3. Never promise them anything un
less yon are quite sure that yoi cau givo
what you say.
4. If you toil a child to do something,
show him how to do it and see that it is
done.
5. Always punish your child for willful
ly disolieying you, but never punish him
in auger.
0. Never let them know that they vex
you, or make you lose your self-command.
7. If they give way to petulance or III*
temper wait till they are calm, then gently
reason jvith them on the impropriety of
their condua.
S. Remember that a little present pun
ishment, when the occasion arises, is much
more effectual than the threatening of a
greater punishment should the fault be
renewed.
0. Never give your children anything
because they cry for it.
10. On no account allow them to do at
one time wnat you have forbidden under
the same circumstances at another.
11. Teach them that the only sure and
easy way to appear good is to he good.
12. Accustom them to make their little
reeitals with perfect truth.
13. Never allow tale bearing,
14. Teach them sel-fdeuial, not self-in-
dilgei.ee.
LEO
‘Windsor Hill lost nis red heifer. By dint
of hard search he found that the animal
had been sold to H. M. Taylor <fc 0%on
Mulberry street. Tbe firm did not for a
moment suspect that the heifer was stolen,
and even if they did the bold movemente
of the seller would have allayed all suspi
cion. As soon as this fact beoome known to
them, they lent every assistance to catch
the thief. The porter ot their store de
scribed the man who had sold the heifor to
Lieutenant Wytey, and yesterday morning
that offioer found his man near Brown's
Hotel. He was identified by the porter, and
the arrest was made with offioer Nelson’s
assistance. Tbe man turned out to be John
Gates, a country negro, who came to Maeon
and lost all faie money, and was prompted
toateal the animal by a town sharp. A
warrant was sworn out and soon John was
at the jail. He owned up to the theft and
said be bad sold herjfor $4.CO. The County
Court will attend to tbe case.
MAC OX GEORGIA.
Her Distinguished Dead in Boee Hill
Cemetery/'
Bn Richard B. Clark in the. Sunny South.
My former comments upon tbe dead in
Rose Hill Cemetery have concerned men
who have monuments erected to their
memory. I shall now write of one who
has no monument, hut who deserves one
irom tho city of Macon. His name oc
curred to me because his grave, almost in
the shadow of Joseph Bond’s beautiful
monument, came thereby -under my ob
servation. And it seemed remarkable
that the only man who, at the time, had
the means and the enterprise to build tbe
“Palace on the Hill,” and the only man
who had the wealth and the liberality to
purchase it should be neighbors iu death,
At different times they had both occupied
,the same mansion as a home, and, after
death, had coma to lie down in eternal
sleep together. -But in this instanco, as
In so many others, “tho last was first and
the first was last.” He who built aud sold
survived him who bought nearly twenty
years and was some fifteen years the older
nun.
The name of him to whom I have re
ferred is
JERE COWLES,
who was born in Sharon, Conn., about
the year 1800, and died in the city of New
York in the year 1873. His body was
taken to Macon for interment on his lot in
Rose Hill cemetery, where he had several
of his children laid away, and among
them two grown sons. Col. Cowles be
longed to that class of Northern merch
ants who came to the South during the
first quarter of this century, and not hav
ing imbibed any antipathy to Southerners
were of a very different style from those
who came during the third quarter. ’ He
first settled as a merchant in Eatonton,
Ga., and discovering in the more rapidly
growing town of Macon a bettor location
for him, he moved there. His wife was
one of the daughters of John Williams, of
Milledgeville, for a long time the Treas
urer of the State. He belonged to a fine
family of Bertie county, N. C., from
whence he moved to Georgia. Col.
Cowles having married la Georgia, which
became both the birth and the burial
place of his children, he identified himself
with whatever promoted Georgia’s pros
perity. His energy, enterprise and wealth
were such, that in financial and kindred
circles, k8 became the most influential
man in Macon. Ho was among the orig
in itors of the scheme to construct a rail
road from Macon to Savannah, and was
the active and influential friend of that
enterprise from its conception to its con
summation. He was equally efficient and
conspicuous in the construction of the
Southwestern railroad, from Macon to
Eufaula, Albany and Fort Gaines. But
his greatest success was his saving from
destruaion the road from Macon to At
lanta, and securing its completion by a
company of Northern capitalists.
Tbe corporate name of tho first compa
ny that undertook tbe construct'onof that
road was the “Monroe Railroad and
Banking Company.” When the cars were
running witbiu twenty miles of Atlanta,
over defeaive construction, with imperfect
equipments, the company, in 1845, failed,
alter having spent two millions of dollars.
Tho creditors placed tiie road and oilier
property of the company in the court'of
equity of Bibb county for the liquidation
of its affairs.
Commissioners were appointed by the
court to sell the road and all its property,
including the franchise. It was sold ou
the (ith (lay of August, 1845, and Jere
Ctwles, “solitary and alone,” became the
purchaser at the low price yet large sum
of $153,000. To properly explain and es
timate the Importance and magnitude of
this purchase, it is necessary to give, as
briefly as possibly, an idea of the situation
that time.
There were then no through and great
connecting routes to New York, or any
other large commercial centre. Railroads
were then m their infancy, and their ca
pacity for good not sufficiently appreciat
ed. As yet, they were experiments, aud
derived their chief support and conse-
quenco from the country through which
hey ran aud their respective termini.
Charleston and Savannah were com
peting seaports, aud through the South
Carolina railroad to Augusta, and the
Georgia railroad to Atlanta, and the State
road lo Chattanooga, Charleston and the
intermediate important commercial point
of Augusta were assured of railroad com
munication with the great West. Savan
nah with the intermediate city ot ilacon
would he cut off from such connection
without the road from Macon to- Atlanta.
Tho Central railroad had only a year
before been completed to Macon after a
hard struggle—could pay no divi
dends, aud nono were expected for many
years. Savannah was scarcely half as
large as Charleston, and had exhausted
her available resources in the construalon
of the Central. Macon was much less in
population than Augusta and still less in
properly. In fact, the city could not pay
her liabilities. This was the situation
when the road tributary to Macon and
Savannah, aud upon which both were de
pendent for connection with north Geor-
ia, Tennessee and tbe far West, was to
e sold “under the auctioneer’s hammer.”
The strength of purse was with their com
mercial enemy and i! the enemy bought,
tbo iron anil equipments would be re
moved and the road destroyed. And so
much had that enemy the advantage that
living i° e
would'“
propertr”
money!
would t
consolidation may never have taken place,
for it would have gone into Lauds inimi
cal to the Ceutral, and might to this day
be running in the interest of another com
pany. It has been supposed that at the
time ot tbe purchase, Col. Cowles was tbe
agent of the Northurn.capiulista, but be
was not. Tbe case was a despeiare one,
aud it required a desperate remedy, and
while he bad in view the probability of
his organizing a new company on the
basis of bis bid, yet when he bid he rep
resented no one but Jeny Cowles—with
i o backers but his own genius and pluck.
He was possibly let in as a stockholder in
tbe new company or in some other way
compensated, but that he ever reaped auy
substantial pecuniary benefit from the
transaction nis friends do not believe. It
was to him compensation enough to have
originated and been successful in th
scheme of securing tbe road for Ml
and Savannah. To him glory was w
.more jhau mpney, H? WM *
spirited man and the magnitude of __
terprise of public interest Wai Ids au/coti-
sideration. He loved to elitertain'V.iiemes
of a public nature which invrf"JJsd hun
dreds of thousands and n^rons. He
long ago foresaw the gra’.‘ > ,'eonneeting
through routes to New Y-Vfcj and other
important points, and .Ilyas a favorite
phrase of ids. that tlie/vdhould he a rail
road .“from the iceij~ Die to tho orange
groves.” At the tiyy he conceived this
and similar ide»*y/e did not have tbe
wealth to tormV%ucleus oi a syndicate
or It would V wO beeu done, unless it
had been w^earlv iu the progress of
railways, emfuc growth of the country
to enlist q^calists. It was perhaps his
wisforlunMuat his foresight was too much
in advar^bf tbe proper time. Were he
wenty years younger, how ho
in the consolidation of large
and tho combination of the
igs, and with some of them he
sure to be. After he lost his
fortune, jlabout 1840, he never recovered
bis lorn er financial status. There were
f prosperity to be followed by
idverslty, but nothing like tbe
condition of his early man-
returned. In the late war
is fortunes with the South,
remained during its con
tinuance,° and for seveial years after.
His public spirit did not flow alone in
tbe current of internal lmprovemett^but
he was the friend of education and relig
ion, and was liberal in his contributions
to both. He took great pride in relating
bis efforts in behalf of the establishment
of the Wesleyan Female College ot Macon.
His early education was limited, but he
had such a bright aud solid miud, had
seen so much ot the world, and had ac
quired so much information, he would
have passed Tor a liberally educated man.
His frame was large and c-impact, sur
mounted by a head with a high, broad
forehead, that gave him a commanding
appearance in any assembly. He had a
strong, fluent aud distinct enunciatiou, a
large and expressive, mouth, full of beau
tiful teeth. He was full of mirth,
and had a fund of amusing inci
dents aud anecdotes he loved to tell, and
in telling them, would laugh at them as
heartily as any listener. His laugh was
loud, ringing and contagious. A man
with any humor in his soul and not over
come with grief or trouble, could not
hear that laugh and uot laugh with him.
Generally a man should not laugh at his
own jokes, but it was becoming in Jere
Cowles, and added to the humor of the
story lie was telling. Many, he had of
primitive days in Eatonton. He was one
of the few men that did not grow old in
heart, as he did in yeaia. He preferred
the company of young men, and in.de-
port meat was as young as tlie youngest.
He had no use for the sort of men called
“old fogies.” They were too old for
him to associate with, even if many
years his junior. He did not allow
himself ]cast down by his adverse for
tune. In Macon where he once reigned
in prosperity, he held his head high in ad
versity. His family were secured by a
competency which relieved him of anx
iety for them. His successful ventures
wero more profitable to others thau him
self. He sowed and others reaped, and
many are now enjoying the fruits of his
skill and labor without knowing it. Let
his faults be buried in thegravo with him,
and let us cherish the memory of his vir
tues and live in the hope that his name
will not pass into oblivion, aud bis grave
be lqst for the want of a suitable monn
ment to mark the spot where so much of
life, genius, enterprise and mirth are now
represented only by “tlie dust of tbe
earth.” ■
Tbe Jnuuarsr Honey Freshet in New
Orleans.
On January 10th (being the 140lh
Monthly Grand Distribution), under the
sole management of Generals G. T. Beau
regard, of Louisiana, and Jubal A. Early,
of Virginia., of the Louisana State Lottery,
the following named were among fortune’s
favorites: The first capital prize was
drawn hy No. 70,090, held by I. M. Davis
of Morning Star, near Memphis, Tenn.
The second capital, $10,000, by No. 19,000,
held hy Sebastian Lehman, No. 793 Lari
mer street. Denver City, Col. Tbe third
capital, $5,000, by No. 50,300, by True A.
Heath, Concord, N. H. The fourth capi
tal prizes, two, of $2,500 each, by No. 10,-
535, held bv L. Sanders. No. 321 Broad
way, New York city. Five prizes of $1,-
000 each were distributed around among
the holders of Nos. 0,4'2,15,714, 20,757,
44,504 and 46,239, residing at New Or
leans, New York c>ty, Toledo, O., Norfolk,
Va, and Topeka, Kan. The 142d draw
ing will occnr March 14, and any infor-
be determined to give bnt a nomlnil sum ^ e w Orieans^Lf' 10111 ° “
for the franchise, road-bed and eouio- A Dauphin, New Orleans, La.
for the franchise, road-bed and equip
ments. If something could not be done
speedily, the road would be lost and all
the incidental advantages of trade and tbe
like from an expenditure of two millions
of dollars.
The man destined to solvo the difficulty
and relieve Macon was Jere Cowles. The
commissioners of sale would have uotil
November (the next meeting-of court) to
account for tho proceeds. They were the
friends of Macon. To them Col. Cowles
communicated bis scheme of purchase,
which could not be carried out unless
they would give him time in which to
comply with his bid. If he failed to pay
tbe time was sufficient for a re-sale at his
risk by the next court, and the commis
sioners were able from their private
estate to make good the loss if any.
When the property was put up it was
started low, and finally knocked off to
Col. Cowles, for $153,000. The adverse
bidder permitted it to be knocked off at
that price under the impression that
Cowles could uot comply—that it would
immediately be resold when they would
be sure to get it at a very low figure. To
their dismay it was not again put up and
they found they had made a bad calcula
tion. Col. Cowles at once went to New
York, made repreeeulatlon of the value
of the property and the amount of his bid.
They furuished tbe money, the commis
sioners were paid, and there was a re-or
ganization under the new name of tbe
Macon and Western railroad company.
Money enough was subscribed and paid
to pul the whole route to Atlanta iu first-
rate order, and it soon became the best
equipped road, and the best paying stock
in tbe State. Of late years it has become
merged in tbe Central and there in now
but one line and one corporation from At
lanta to Savannah.
{ But for Jere Cowles’ purchase, this
AGRICULTURAL FACTS.
Hay va. CsMss.
Southern Tareur'tMonthly.
A question widely discussed involves
the rotative value of the wheat, cotton,
tea and hay crop of the world. Which
ol these products involves the greatest
amount of tbe world’s capital ? It is said
bjr tbe Hay Reporter that hay leads tlie
rest, and tbe items that enter into ac
count, as stated, are somewhat startling.
Cotton and tea are local crops, while hay
is produced everywhere, the world over,
and Ae hay crop greatly outweighs
eitbei^of the other two. Tbe aggregate
_ rted value of all farm products
iih^be United States for 1870 was $2,-
,538,658; but as tills includes ad
dons to stocks, “betterments,” etc-,
was probably too blgb then, but tbe
census of IwO will, no doubt, show even
lliger figureJ. Now, the hay crop tor i870
—that is, the grass dried aud cured for
use or sold—is reported at over 27,000,000
tons. This, at half the selling price iu
the larger cities, would amount to $405,-
000,000, and is greater than tbe aggregate
home value of the cotton crop, or any
other crop. But the “eured” hay is but %
portion of the grass crop. The other por
tion is used on me ground, and it requires
considerable calculation lo get at the value
so used, even iu the roughest way. In
tbe first place, livestock, including horned
cattle, horses, sheep, swiue, etc., to the
value of $1,525,000,000, were fed from
it that year. Averaging the lives of
these at five years, we have one-fifth of that
sum as representing the grass fed to them
iul870, viz: $105,000,000; next, wo find
the value of alomais slaughtered for food
ra that year to bo $309,000,000, and as
this is an animal product, the whole of it
will for the present be credited to the grass
crop; next, we find that the butter crop of
1870 was 510,000,000 pounds, which, at
the low average ef twenty-five cents,
amounts to $12S,000,000, aud this goes
to tlie credit of grass; nex’, we have 235,-
000,000 gallons of milk, which, at the
low estimate of ten cents per gallon,
adds $25,000,000 more to the credit of
the grass crop; then wa have 100,030,000
pounds of wool at twenty-five cents a
pound, adding $25,000,000 mare, and,
finally 53,000,WO pounds of cheese at ten
cents, adding over $5,000,000 to the total
of these credits to the grass crop of 1S70,
which aggregates $S87,000,003. Now, let
us add the valne of the “hay” crop, as
;iveu above—viz., $405,000,000—and we
save a grsud total for “hay” and the pro
ducts of grass consumed ou the ground
amounting to $1,202,000,000. Tills is, of
course, subject to deduction, as the meal,
butter, milk, cheese and wool-producing
animals consume other food besides
grass and bay. To make ample allow
ance for this, wo deduct tbe entire value
of tbe corn and hay crops of 1870,
estimated at $370,000,000, and this leaves
a remainder of $1,022,000,000 to be credit
ed to tbe hay and grass crop ot that year,
when the reported aggregate of all farm
products was $2,447,528,058. If our esti
mates make even tbe roughest approach to
accuracy, the value of that crop was two-
filths of ihe aggregate value all farm pro
ducts, and hence we may infer that two-
fifths of the capital then invested iu agri
cultural pursuits was devoted to the grass
crop, and this in the United States equals
in round numbers $4,575,000,000. From
these figures the deduction is palpable that
Kiug Cotton is uncrowned aud dethron
ed.—Exchange.
Oar Track Farmer*
We are glad to see that our truck farm
ers have not been daunted by the dis
couragements ol last year, but are push
ing forward with the work of preparation
for a still larger area of fruits and vege
tables for 1882. They rightly consider
failure, from whatever cause, as inciden
tal to, aud the exception, not the rule, to
legitimate business. Other crops, indis
pensable to human support, have wholly
or partially failed many times in all
parts of the world; but the people have
lived, and progress continued all the
same. If the workers became less actire
through such discouragements, and plant
ed less on each successive failure, the
lands would long since have reverted to
unbroken forests and the population to
aboriginal barbarism. Civilizatiou, wealth
and luxury have been attained by per
severance, based upon experience* judg
ment, sagacity; and such triumph over
seemingly insupeiablo obstacles we call
“grit,” to indicate indomitable will aud
energy. Tlie farmer who possesses this
will prove a success, though he encoun
ter many failures. The races of men
are distinguished, more or less, In, pro
portion to their exihlbition of these qual
ities, aud tbe extraordinary progress of
our own country in ali tbe arts anjl
sciences adapted to man’s elevation is a
standing monument to the superior en
ergy and vigor of tbe Anglo-Saxon.
The only way to raise a good cow is lo
choose a good calf, feed it well and judi
ciously, aud feed it faithfully, and do not
get weary in well doing. It is held by
some that a calf fed upon such food as
stimulate, milk secretions will be greatly
influenced ra the formation of the milk
glands. Certain it is that milking traits
are hereditary, and this can only be se
cured by breeding uuder the farmer's own
supervision—selecting the fittest, and feed
ing to attain the eud sought. By raising
his own cows the fanner has two chances
as against oue where be buys bis cows. If
he fails In selecting a good cow It usually
happens that it takes ber body and the
milk credit she made to equal the purchase
money, not counting the summer's labor
in milking liar or the keep. If the heifer
fails the farmer turns her into beef; the
fuDds received are added to capital stock,
the actual conversion of so much grass,
corn, and hay into money.
The best beef is young beef, reaching
its greatest point of superiority at from
two to three years. The same is true of
sheep and swine. A wether, for tbe best
mutton, should be marketed at two years
as a general rule, a 250-pound pig is much
better in quality and morejn-ofitable than
a hog that weighs 500 pounds. Tbe point
of appreciation of quickly matured ani
mats is being reached, though somewhat
gradually, and it remains to improve tbe
various breeds : especial regard being taken
to carefully select tboee animals to breed
from that corns to maturity at an early
age.—Exchange.
Great Bhitaix has inree agricultural
schools, an English, Irish and Scotch, each
self-eupportlng, and costing not more than
$10,000 each a year; each is intended to
train three classes of agricultural laborers
—gardeners, small tenants, and large
farmers. Prussia spends two or three mil
lion dollars annually upon tbe state for
ests and farms. Tbe farms of the state
are rented to practical fanners, who are
bound by their leases to take pupils in
agriculture, and to keep blooded stock for
improving the breeds ot the surrounding
community, and to Introduce such ma
chinery on trial as is recommended by the
agricultural minister of the crown. <No
seeds are distributed free, except In time
of scarcity, but railroads have to carrjy
free articles for exhibition at agricultural
fairs. The highways are lined with fruit
or other trees, and the government su
pei-vision of forests is strict.
ti.500 reiCye*^** 11 ** eMi, y miMle
J home working for B. G. Rideout & Co.,
be beat! be beat! be beat! I e-a-a-n’t be 10 Barclay street, New York, Send for
be-be-beat! ^—Texat Styllnge. * their catalogue and fall particulars.
In one of Connecticut’s most thriving
cities tbe church bells became objectiona
ble, principally because the. church ser
vices were held without any concert of
action as to the hour of meeting. Action
by the council was invoked in order that
tbe bells might be rung simultaneously
Instead of jangling at half-hour intervals
during tbe morning, afternoon and even
ing. The Common Council passed a
resolution: Resolved, That hereafter tbe
churches that hare bells that are
rung, be rung at the same hour for morn
ing and afternoon service.” The bell
ringers are puzzled, and are wondering
what will be the effect on the Sunday
dinnets.
A Jackass that Wouldn’t Scare—
A vagrant ass stood beside tbe track of tbe
Sunset railway at tbe depot a few morn
ings ago. An engine moved slowly up;
it stopped within a few feet of tbe ass;
the engineer blew one of those terrible
screams, prolonged and ear-piereing—
such a blast as makes a sleeping Millerite
dream of tbe day of judgment. Did the
am scare? Not worth a cent. Did he
shake the sloth from his limbs, erect bis
tall and speed away like the asses of Bas-
sorah, faster than the Bedouin coursers
ran back,to the Chapparal ? No, be didn’t.
He turned one ear toward the engine, just
as a deaf man uses his tin ear-trumpet,
and caught every particle of the sounds
and when tbe steam-blown whistle ceasec
its notes, and all tbe eehoes died away,
tbe animal .straightened out bis neck,
opened his mouth, and, in a voice that
deafened all the railroad men and caused
the freight clerk to drop bis pen, be roared :
“I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! be beat!
She Worn TscdasM.
“Yes, papa’s broke.”
The June sun bad sunk to rest iu a
great bank of fleecy clouds that were
piled up against tlie western sky, their
upper edges given a beautiful rese-tint by
the quivering raya of golden light that
still shot up from below tbe horixqk.
She wbo spoke tbe words with which this '
chapter opens, was s fair, winsome girt
with a lithe, shapely figure and the com
plexion of a lily. From tbe earliest day
of infancy Carita Corcoran bad been sur
rounded by every lurury that money
could procure; had been tbe petted idol
of parents who lavished upon her all tha
wealth of s mad, passionate affection,
whose depths those alone who have an
only child cau kt)oV. Clothes that
would befit $ princess and jewels that
might adorn a royul coronet bad
beeu bers. And now, just as she
wm budding Into tbs sweet begut^
of perfect wonmanhood, Just as iife hau
for her only roseate hues, tbe blow had
fallen—fallen with cruel, crushing force,
and the luture, into which she had been
looking so joyously, and with such confi
dent hope, was rendered dark and deso
late by tbe paii of disappointment which
an angry fate had so ruthlessly cast over
it. -Her lather had told her not an hour
ago, that he was ruined—that a deal iu
No. 2 spring wheat had proved the Circe
which lured him on to financial destruc
tion. They were silting at tbe supper
table wheu l’izarro Corcoran related the
story of his ruin to the girl, and after be
had finished, she did uot bemoan ber
fate, bnt only said, iu low, tender tones:
“How kind of you, papa, not to ;tell me
this until I bad eaten the last biscuit.
It might have taken away my appetite.”
Carita had gone from tbe supper table
to the parlor, and it was there that she
told Koscoe C. Manaffy, lier affianced, of
the disaster that bad overtaken her—told
it In tbe simple but eloquent manuavnar-
rated above. “Yes,” she said, her breath
coming short and quick, “papa is broke.”
Roscoe noticed her emotion. “Get your
second wind, my darling,” he said tender
ly; “you are excited”—and kissing her
ruby-red lips, he seated himself on a vel
vet-covered fauteull and gave free rein to
the weird fancies that thronged his brain.
He was in no danger of being ran away
With, however.
“And do you still love me?” Carita
asked, looking at him earnestly.
“Love you, my angel! Of course I do.
Nothing can change or shake my love”—
and he drew her to bis heart and laid ber
cheek against his. With a little soft*
happy sob she lifted her arms and twined
them around his neck; and then, he tells
himself, there is nothing more on earth to
be wished for.
“Carita!—my darling!” he said in a
low choked voice.
The girl still retained her cable grip on
his neck.
The minutes pass; then she loiks np at
him with soft, speakingfeyes. There are
no tears on her cheeks, but her face is
pale as moonlight, and on it is a new,
deep meaning that Itoscoe had never seen
there in all his life before—a gentle light,
as kind as death, as softras holy love.
Carita had been vaccinated.—From
•Running Against the Corner,’’ by Murat
Halstead.
Cotton Crop Figure*
Washington, February 15.—The fol
lowing is issued by the Department of
Agriculture: Supplementary cotton re
turns made after the close or tbe haivest
with an effort for unusual completeness,
has resulted In obtaining county estimates
covering seven-tenths of the entire field of
production, or 506 counties. The Decem
ber returns represented but43 percent,
of the cotton area. TLe inquiries calling
for comparison with last yeat’s product
were divided, first, to show the result ou
equal areas, and second, modification,
by increase or decrease of acreage.
The result makes the State percentages
of last year’s product as follows: North
Carolina, 82; South Carolina, 80; Geor
gia, 86; Florida, 90; Alabama, 86; Mis
sissippi, 80; Louisiana, 80; Texas, 75:
Arkansas, 59; Tennessee, 69. This in
creases somewhat tbe indicated yield ot
the December returns, but still falls short
of the indications of tho condition in
October, when tbe average was 08, against
85 in October of 1880. That average of
condition pointed to about 5,379,000.
In October, 1870, tbe average was 80.
On this basis a comparison by the Octo- '
ber condition would point to a result
fully u large. It is ftulble
that the panic and depression nat
urally caused by tho reduced
production bad a slicbt conservative
tendency upon these final returns; yet the
discrepancy between these and previous
returns of condition is not wide, show
ing an iuevitably large redaction in the
yield. Tbe returns of area make the in
crease of acreage in 1881 about 5per cent,
and the total acreage about sixteen and a
half million acres. Tbe returns of losses
by the cotton caterpillar indicate.an aggre
gate loss of about 300,000 bales. The
heaviest losses are in Florida 14 per cent.,
Louisiana 11, Alabama 10, Mississippi
03-10, Arkansas 3 1-10, Georgia 3 0-10,
Texas 5, South Carolina 2 5-10. Very
small loases occurred in North Carolina
and Tennessee and none in Maryland and
Virginia;
Bishop WisbWan DmS.
Charleston, February 15.—Bishop
William May Wightman, of tbe Methodist
Episcopal Chu'cb, South, died at his resi
dence in this city tiffs morning after an
illness of eighteen months, aged seventy-
four years. He was licensed to preach in
1827, and was successively profeasor in
llandolpl-Macon College, Virginia, editor
of tlie Southern Christian Adeotale,
president of Wofford College, South Car
olina, and chancellor of tbe Southern
University at Greensboro, Alabama. He
was elected bishop in I860. Hi was a
fine scholar, a pulpit orator of rare power
and universally popular.
A aescDod Crew.
New York, February 15.—The ship
Jessie Burrill bas arrived from Lisbon,
bringing the crew of tbe brig Jennie Mar
tin, from Wilmington, N. C., for Balti
more, abandoned in a waterlogged and
dismasted condition on the 9th inst.
The Arsdjmsn.
Richmond, February 15—Tbe Read
juster trouble* thicken. To-night, in the
caucus, tbe bolting members of the party
agreed to abide by tbe decision of tbe
caucus, but when Massey, the present
incumbent, was nominated for auditor of
public accounts. Senator Riddteberger
said be would resign his seat and go home
before he would vote for him, and de
nounced Massey as a felon, whereupon
tbe latter’s friends leit tbe caacua. Great
excitement followed tbe exit of the Maa-
sey men- The caucus, at 12:30 a m., re
nominated S. Brown Alien, of Augusta,
for auditor of public accounts, and ad
journed.
O’Donovan Rossa’s new and power
ful explosive—-kerotine siccatin—turns
out to be nothing more tbar, baking pow
der. Those who are acquainted with the
characteristics of baking powder will not
be surprised to bear this, and will be glad
that its proper use bas at last been discov
ered.
Mb. Gladstone, wbo used to
fits over the Turkish attrociUee in
ria, has not expressed a word of r
with the vltiaialiniy peaecnted
In Russia.
■ eiJm
-■ .
