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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 -■ .