Newspaper Page Text
Banks County Gazette.
VOL I.—NO. 47.
Lettie’s Love Charm.
“ Why, Lettie Vincent, you don’t
mean to say you have been quarrel
ling with Bertie—and only' six months
married?’’ said Mrs. Austin, reprov
ingly, to her niece, who had run in
for a moment to see her.
“Well it wasn’t exactly a quarrel,”
half sobbed Lettie. “But if he finds
fault with me, I have to answer him
back a little sharp, and then he goes
away angry.”
“I always had a charm against
these little storms when I was mar
ried; I inherited it from my mother,
and I think I shall give it to you.”
As she spoke she unclasped a neck
lace from her throat, made of twenty
lustrous amber beads. “I didu’t wear
them when I was first married,” said
Mrs. Austin, “but carried them around
in my pocket. So must you. Now,
when your husband speaks so sharply
to you, and you feel like ..snapping
back, just count three of these beads
on your fingers. There is something
mystic about amber, and when you
have counted three beads you can
say what you please.” Lettie laughed
a little angrily.
“You ;.re making fun of me, aunty,”
she said,
“No, I’m not,” she said gravely.
“I don’t expect you to believe it, but
I do ask you to give it a fair trial.”
“But it seems so ridiculous.”
“Plenty of good things seem ridicu
lous at first; but I know that if you
won't utter a syllable after you have
been vexed by Bertie until you say
one, two, three—one for faith, two
for hope, and three for charity,—
then, mark my word, child, you will
find the amber charm will work.”
“Well,” Lettie said, taking the
beads, and glancing at them a little
superstitious!}’, “I’ll try them, but I’m
certain they won’t <lo any good.”
“And I am certain they will,” said
the old lady cheerfully.
When Lettie went home that night,
in the solitary summer twilight, Ber
tie Vincent was before her, impatient
ly pacing the floor.
“Well,” he said sharply, “I don’t
know that I particularly admire to
come home and find the house de
serted. Why coul. n’) you have told
me you were going away?”
“Because I am not a three year-old
baby, to have to ask leave every
time Igo out. That is why.”
These words were the answer that
rose hotly to Lettie’s lips, but she sud
denly remembered the amber oharrn,
and slipped her hand down into her
pocket and deliberately counted throe
of the glittering globes,and by the time
she had finished the “one for faith,
two for hope, and three for charity,”
a little of the dreariness ot the un
lighted apartment struck into her own
heart, and she realized that it was a
cheerless place for Bertie to come
home to.
“I didn’t mean to stay so late,”
she said, cheerily. ‘‘But I did want
to go and see aunty so bad, and per
haps I should have told you that I
thought of spending the day at the
farm. I’ll light the gas in a minute,
dear.”
Bertie’s frown faded away.
“Well, suppose we both go down
on Sunday, Lettie? I declare I don't
wonder you want to go, for it is in
sufferably stupid for you here all day
long alone, w-ich the canary and kitten
for company. Now' sit down and let
me read the paper to you until you
get rested.”
And an almost superstitious thrill
passed through Lettie’s heart as she
realized the success of the amber
charm.
The next morning, Mr. Vincent,
dressing in a hurry, found a button
off his shirt.
“If there isn’t another button gone,”
he exclaimed, angrily dashing the
shirt to the floor. “It does seem to
me you might be a littlo more careful
abont such things, Lettie.”
A sharp retort trembled on Lettie’s
tongue, but like lightning the amber
charm flashed across her memory, and
the faith, hope, and charity trio were
called to her relief.
“I will look them over this morn
ing, Bertie. You shall find every but
ton right after this.”
Ab she spoke she laid out another
shirt, not Luttonless, and he laughed
happily.
“I shouldn’t have spoken so quick
ly, said he, “but you know what a
button off a man’s shirt is to his
temper.”
When he had gone to the office,
leaving an affectionate good-by ou
Littie’s pretty face, she drew out her
amber charm and divided Bertie’s
kiss with it.
“You darling old thing,” she said
aloud. “Bertie does love me, and
thanks to yon, my blessed trio, I am
learning to control this pettish, way
ward tongue of mine a little.”
Autumn leaves were falling when
she went down to the old farm-house
again.
“Well, dear,” said Mrs. Austin,
“and how does the spell work ?”
“O aunty,” she cried, “I am so hap
py! lam so thankful to you ! And
if I can only keep those precious old
beads forever—”
“Of course, my dear, of course;
k*ep ’em as long as you want ’em.
Only as far as their being a charm is
concerned—”
“You needn’t tell me, aunty, about
that.” And Lettie laughed and col
ored. “I know it is not the three
beads so much as the stopping to
think. But who would suppose that
little way of stopping to count would
be actual discipline for ourselves 1 I
know I was always quick and irrita
ble, but, aunty, 1 am learning to con
trol my temper. And if I live one
hundred years, I feel that I must have
my ‘faith, hope, and charity charm.”
“And so you shall, dear,” said Mrs.
Austin, as she took off her glasses and
wiped away the mist of tears that had
gathered ou them.
“Because,” I,it,tie replied, “they
have no doubt been to me a precious
charm.”—Selected.
How They Heard.
The Savior said: “Take heed how
ye hear,” and the admonition needs
to rocive just as great emphasis in
our day as in the olden time. The
attitude of mind with which we ap
proach the word, whether in readin
it privately or listening to it in church
services, has much, very much, to do
with the blessinp we receive from it.
It is common to make this remark
with reference to infidels and skeptics,
but let us for the moment apply it to
Christian hearers. There can be no
doubt that in the congregations on
the Lord’s day many are so dull of
bearing that a very fit exhortation to
put in at frequent intervals during
the service would be: “He that hath
ears to hear let him hear.” It is not
merely those who habituatly sleep in
meeting who need to be awaked, but
those also who are awake but tlieir
heart sleepeth, who listen but hear
not.
A family, whom we shall call the
Blanks, attended service on a recent
Sunday at the church to which they
belonged. Their behavior befitted
the place and the occasion; no one
could have criticised it adversely.
They were all attention and wide
awake. But how did they hear? We
can only judge from the conversation
when they were assembled at the din
ner table, of which we can give but
snatches. The morning church going,
being the most recent occurrence,
formed the subject of talk. Mr.
Blank thought the subject of the dis
course ill timed. It was city evan
geliz tion which had been the preach
er’s theme, and he had supported his
statements of the city’s needs by
facts and statistics concerning the
probation of churches and their inad
equate capacity for the immense pop
ulation. Mr. Blank also showed haw
he had heard by uttering no word of
heartfelt sorrow for the unchurched
multitudes, but deprecating the stir
ring appeals for city mission work
their pastor was constantly making.
How near had he come to hearing
God’s voice in his word that morn
ing? Mrs. Blank had not much to
say about the a: scourse, but she was
concerned about the music, criticising
HOMER, BANKS COUNTY, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 1, 1891,
it severely as not befitting a church
service, and especially severe on the
new choir leader, whose motions and
solo performance she was sure were
very distracting to the congregation.
Son George remarked upon the minis
ter having his coat unbuttoned while
preaching, and the fact that his neck
tie was not a four-in-hand, and had
been somewhat awry. -Son Harry
thought the minister talked altogehter
too long, and didn’t tell stories
enough, his father complained
that there was no depth to the dis
course. But little Emma showed
where her thoughts had been by say
ing the organ voluntary made her
think of the music to which she had
danced at the dancing class the day
before. Nor was there one word
spoken at that table which would
lead one to suppose any impression
had been left upon any of their minds
of God’s nearness and love, or of the
crying need of multitudes of the gos
pel of Christ the world’s saviour.
What was the reason ? They did not
take heed how they heard.
In the first place, none of them
went to Church hungry for heavenly
manna. They had not sharpened
their appetite by secret and family
confession and prayer, with earnest
petition that God would prepare
their hearts to receive the truth in
the love of it. And secondly, they
had not called in their thoughts from
wandering by compelling themselves
to consider the sacredness of the
place and the sublime importance of
the theme discussed; for often in
God’s house we fail to realize that we
are sitting before God, and waiting
upon him. Again, it was not the
custom in that household to gather
up items of truth in their after church
conversation, nor for the parents to
lovingly try to apply themselve and
their children the exhortations and
expositions heard in God’s house.
So the impression of that morning’s
service was not very deep, and the
manna that had beeu dropping around
the tents of Israel was ungathered.
This is no fancy picture; you can
duplicate it jn many homes where
the after-church conversation is about
very trivial matters, and where, some
times, no one can briefly state the
theme of discourse. Attentive, pray
erful hearing of the word is a habit
which can be acquired oniy by per
sistent self-training, and calling to
mind every time we attend divine
service, Christ’s words: “Take heed
how ye lieai.”—Rev. John Currer.
A Terrible Charge.
In the fall of 1890 anew light ap
peared in the medical firmament of
Franklin county. This new light was
Dr. G. M. Glover who came from
near Augusta, Ga. He was tall, lank
and ungainly but made friends rapid
ly. His sharp nose and small eyes
appeared to be points in his favor,
at least they did not prevent his star
from rising and blazing in the ranks
of healers. His medical skill was
remarkable and patients flocked from
far and near. He was successful, very
successful, and well thought of by
all. He promised to he a fixture and
the sick clapped tlieir hands for joy.
The popular doctor was accompa
nied by a dashing blonde, apparently
about twenty-five years old who cap
tivated all by her good looks and
pleasing manners. The genial doctor
and the dashing blonde, whom he in
troduced as his wife, took up their
quarters with Mr. J. K. Skelton and
soon ingratiated themselves into the
good graces of their host.
They were loving and paid their
board regularly, all was quiet and
serene. But a change came over the
demeanor of their friends, they be
came cold and hardly spoke to the un
gainly disciple of Esculnpius and his
beautiful companion. What caused
this change ?
Nothing hut the simplo fact that
Glover had been taken back to Jeffer
son county, mind you, taken, he had
to go for he was arrested. He ar
ranged the matter in some way and
returned, but confidence in him was
shaken and to crown all this, the rude \
officers of the law seized his fair part
ner and himself and put them in jail.
This was terrible but some of the
friends whom the fellow had made
stuck by him.
These friends rallied to his sup
port and in a short time both parties
batjje good-bye to the prison walls and
were free as air, save for the fact that
lynx-eyed sUrities were on the watch
to prevent their seeking “fresh fields
and pastures new.”
About three months ago the real
wife appeared. She was a sweet
looking woman about thirty-two
years old, and had with lief two line
looking youngsters, one three years
old, the other eighteen months old.
Her erring partner was received back
into her good graces, and the dashing
blonde subsided. Then the Doctor
and his real and loving wife built a
cosy home near Strangers court
grounds, and all was in a fair way to
be forgiven, until the Doctor became
brutal and said in the presence of
several witnesses that he wished^he
had a divorce from his wife as he
wanted to marry the other woman.
Then upon various occasions the sharp
nosed fellow cruelly beat his wife, so
the neighbors say, and in other ways
behaved so that public opinion was
aroused about his way of living.
Ou the fitli of this month liis wife
Mrs. Mary E. Glover, was taken sick,
on the 16th, she was dead. Her ago
nies at the time of her death were
terrible; spasm followed spasm, con
vulsion followed convulsion and when
not in these paroxysms, she was in a
stupor. Monday evening, March 23,
at 4 o’clock she expired.
Witli the dead body of his wife in
the home her bounty had furnished,
after a painful sickness had ended in
a painful death, this man went off
and spent the night elsewhere. And
the next morning he was trying to
marry the blonde woman, was turned
out to be Ella McDowell, before the
body of his wife had stiffened in her
grave. This made the people angry
and his bondsmen and those of the
blonde decided to give them up The
Doctor heard this and attempted to
got the woman out of the country,
hut she was finally caught in a negro
cabin and she and the doctor botn
put back in jail.
Then the neighbors putting this
and that together, Glover’s words
and actions, decided that there must
have been some reason for the sud
den death of the wife, aside from a
congestive chill, which Glover eiaimed
caused her death, this other reason
they decided was poison, and Coroner
W. H. Sorrels summoned a jury on
the 16tk, exhumed the body of Mrs.
Glover and hold a postmortem exami
nation.
Mrs. Glover’s body was taken to
the residence of the late Jno. Duncan,
near Hails creek, and there the trial
was held. Drs. Burruss and Rampley,
of Carnesville, took the body in
charge and made a critical examina
tion of the brain and stomach. After
a close study they informed the jury
that they could find no traces of pois
on, and did not believe any had been
administered.
This did not satisfy the jury and
they deliberated until late at night
then went to Carnesville, and finding
no possitive evidence Glover was re
leased.—Athens Banner.
The Heroic Mother.
We see a household brought up
w'ell: a mother who took alone the
burden of life when her husband laid
it down, without much property, out
of her penury, by her planning and
industry., night and day, by her full
ness and love, by' her fidelity, bring
up her children; and life has six men
all of wdiom are like pillars in the
temple of God.
Oh! do not read to me of the cam
paigns of Leaser; tell me nothing
about Napoleon’s wonderful exploits;
I tell you that as God and angels look
down upon the silent history of that
woman's adminirtration, and upon
those men building processes which
went no in her heart and mind through
a score of years, nothing external, no
outward development of kingdoms
no empire building, can compare with
what she has done.
Nothing can compare in beauty,
and wonder, and admirableness, and
divinity itself, to the silent work in
obscure dwellngs of faithful women
bringing their children to honor and
virtue and piety. I tell you the in
side is larger than the outside, for the
loom is more than he fabrick; the
thinker more than the thong, t; the
builder more than the building.—ll.
W. Beecher.
It seems hardly necessary to write
for farmers on the evils of the saloon.
No one pretends to deny the general
charge that the saloon is a bad thing.
It is our purpose to speak briefly of
this national curse to the fanners as
a class. The licensed saloons in the
towns and villages of this country
imposes double and underhand form
of taxation upon the farmers that
would not be tolerated under any
other name. Towns license saloons
to help pay their own expenses. They
build sidewalks, pay policemen, build
jails and become extravagant in pro
portion as the income from saloons
increases. The farmers, or their sons
and laborers, help to maintain the
saloons, and loose their efficiency, and
often their farms. When the crop
of crime is ready for harvest, the
farmer is again called upon to pay
taxes into the county treasury to
cover the expenses of detecting, con
victing, and punishing the criminals
that have been turned out by the vil
lage saloons.—Western Rural.
It seems to be pretty certain that
neither of the Irish factions will re
ceive any considerable financial sup
port from the people of the United
States. They do not deserve to be
assisted in the miserable work of
fighting each other. So lung as they
worked together for the cause of
Irish home rule they never failed to
receive cordial sympathy and sub
stantial aid from this country. —AG
lanta Journal.
Nothing opens so wide a door to
vice, to crime, to evil habits of every
description, as the absence of occu
pation. The downward course of
many a promising youth, the ruin of
many a hopeful life, may be distinctly
traced to the void caused by having
nothing definite and positive to do.
The faculties must be active, the en
ergies must be at work, and if not
employed for good, they will be for
evil.
While a Boston gentleman was
visiting the citadel ot Quebec, last
summer, his attedtion was called by
a British officer, rather boastfully, to
a small brass gun) on which was in
scribed: “Captured from the Ameri
cans at Bunker Hill, 17 June, 1775.’’
The Boston gentleman calmly re
marked: “I am content. You have
the gun; wo have the hill.”
Wliat of the Future.
Are the farmers entering on anew
and brighter era, or will they, by an
attempt to accomplish better things>
ex-pose weaknesses, divided linos and
inability to agree among themselves
on important, economic questions,
and then, “Fall, good easy man, never
to rise again.”
Destiny seems to have shaped our
end, as farmers, in a farmers’ organ
ization mold. If they are nurtured
and sustained and do prosper, the
farmers as a class will be corres
pondingly prosperous, but if the mold
breaks to piece, we will be thrown
even deeper into despair,the laughing
stock, yes, and the prey of the very
vultures who have been picking the
flesh from our ribs for years.
Shall we take counsel among our
selves or shall we counsel vvitli those
who have placed us where we are to
day? In the profusion of good (?)
advice so generally extended to the
farmers, just now, it may be well to
consider, who is the best qualified to
judge, of the cause and remedy for
the mortgaged farm, the tattered
garments, the cheerless home, the
SINGLE COPY THREE CENTS,
hard worked family; the farmer, the
old party solons, or the disappointed
office seeker.
The farmer says organize, educate*
think for yourself* discover the cause
and apply the remedy for evils, and
make your position what it should
be among men.
Will the solons say: “The cause
of the financial trouble of the farmers
is due to an over-production of farm
products, or if he has the right kind
of an audience, the farmers are lazy*
careless and do not attend to busi
ness. Our political party has helped
them all it could and if the farmer
would settle down to work they
would soon meet with success.”
While the disappointed office seeker
is confident the only safe coarse for
the farmer, is to “cut loose” all hold
and sail forth anew born, regarles9
of numerical strength, objects or de
fined principles.
It is high time the producers of
this country were meeting facts, face
to face, sarting friends from foes, get
down to hard pan, and try and put a
stop to production and possession so
soon separtaing. Why is it the farmers
are the largest producers of any class
and yet havo the least pleasure and
comfort in life ?
My answer to th's question would
he: The farmers have not taken a
sufficient interest in polities. Our
country must he governed, and if the
farmer does not take a hand in the
molding the poioy of the government,
the other fellow will, and he has.
We are reaping a bountiful harvest,
that has been frost and drought proof;
all this has been brought about
while the farmer was laboring under
the false impression that all his in
terests lay within his boundary
fence.
In our haste to get out of a posi
tion that it has taken years to get
into, we are liable to act rashly, make
foolsh, sectional and class demands
and the first thing we know, we will
have demonstrated our inability to
right existing wrongs and will fall by
internal dissentions.
Orgaize, educate, study the science
of Government and political economy,
end by degrees we will woak our way
out of the wilderness. The fact is,
we as farmers have neglected our
political duty so long that we have
become rusty and to be candid most
of tts don’t know just what we do
want.
If we throw our organizations into*
a conglomerated mass we are sure-to'
go down before the well drilled forces
of the enemy.
Let us discipline our forces, select
our weapons and fighting ground, and
then, hew to the line let the chips fall
where tney may.
Some reformers are getting away
ahead of the procession, and are
trying to force things prematurely.
The party press is leaving nothing
undone that will warp public senti
ment against us. Rash acts will not
win friends and our strength must
come from those who place principles
before party, whose faith in the jus
tice of our cause and our ability ta
carry it out must not he shaken at.
this critical time.
Farmers’ organizations are growing
in membership very fast, they are
seeking out every state, county and
township in the Union. To throw a
straw in the path of this magnificent
growtli would be unwise. Organiza
tion and education should be the
motto for the leaders of farmers’
organizations during 1891.—F. J.
Claypool, in American Farm News.
Old Lawyer: “I cannot take your
case. Circumstantial evidence is so
strong against you that it will be im
possible to prove your innocence.”
Prisoner: “But I am not innocent.
lam guilty. Old Lawyer: “O! theu
maybe I can clear you.”
Mrs. Wickwire: “Tf woman was
given the credit she deserves I don’t
think man would be quite so promi
nent in the world’s history.” Mr.
Wickwire: “I believe you are right.
If she could get all the credit she
wanted he’d be in the poor-house.”