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VOLUME VII.
BRUNSWICK, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, JUNE 17,1882.
NUMBER 50.
Die Advertise)’ and Appeal,
IS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, AT
BRUNSWICK. • GEORGIA,
BY
1*. G. STACY.
.Subscription Mates.
. Oue copy one ye»r .' tJ 00
One copy »lx moptlw 1 00
Advertisements from responsible parties will
be published until ordered out, when the time is
aot speclfted. and payment exacted accordingly.
Ccmmunicattona for individual benefit, or of a
personal character, charged aa advertisements.
Marriages and obituary notices not exceeding
lour lines, soUcted for publication. When ex-
-ceding that apace, charged aa advertisements.
All letters and communications should be ad
w. STACY,
Brunswick, Georgia.
CITY officers.
May«r- M. J. Colson. . _
Aldermen- J. J. Speer., J. P. Harvey, F. J. Doer-
Olager, 8. C. Littlefield. J. M. Couper, J. Wilier,
W. W. Hardy. J. B. Cook.
Clerk 11 Treasurer—James Houston.
Chief Marshal—J. E. Lambrlght.
roZemm—D.B. Goodbread, W. H. Balney, 0. B.
^^Keeper'af Quart House and Clerk oj Market—D. A.
Moore. , _ ,
Port Physician—1.8 Blaln.
Oily Physician—J. B. Robins.
Sexton 1 fkile Cemetery—C. O. Moore.
Sexton Colored Cemetery—Jackie White.
Harbor Master—Matthew Shannon.
Part Wardens—ThoeO'Connor, A, £. Wattles, J,
M. Dexter.
sTAironco concxrrrkxa or couxcit.
Fisasce—'Wilder, Oook.and Spurs.
Htukxts, DttA&s A Biidox*—Harvey. Hardy and
Littlefield
Habbos—niroji uook »nu uwouoiu,
PUBLIC buildings—Harvoy, couper and Wilder,
Railsoads—Wilder, 8pears and Hudy.
Educatios—Cook, Couper and WUder.
Ohamtt—Spears, Harvoy and Cook.
Kibb dmahtwcnt—-Doerflingor, Haray and Spoara,
Poucn—Wilder, Cook and Harvoy.
UNITED STATES OFFICERS.
Collector ofCuatoma—H. P. Farrow.
Ctofiector interSoSwenue—:D. T. Dunn.
Deputy Marshal—T. W. Dexter.
Postmaster—Linus North.
Commissioner—C. H. Dexter.
Shipping Commlaaloner—Q. Hall.
OCEAN LODG-E No- 214,F-AM.
A
Regular communications of this Lodge are held on
the drat and third Mondays In each month, at 7:30
” visitiug and all brethren In good standing aro fra-
-mally invited to attend. ivnona
J. J, 8PEARS, O. E. FLANDERS,
Secretary.
SEAPORT LODGE, No. 6S. I. 0. 0. F..
Meets every Tneeday nl ^‘"JPo*'
“ - T. LAMBR1QHT. V.O
IAS. E. LAMBRIOHT. P. St R. Secretary.
MILLINERY!
Miss HETTIE WILLIAMS
IS NOW RECEIVING A LARGE AND WELL*SE
LECTED STOCK oi-*
Millinery & Fancy Goods,
LACES OF ALL DESCRIPTIONS,
Pattern Bonnets
In all the latest styles, mat Irom New York.
A full line of
Collarette&Ladies’Underwcar
CHHiDBEN’S DRESSES, Etc.
Dress-Making a Specialty,
In hII the moat fashionable etylea, orders prompt-
ly filled. aprhnly
A SPECIALTY
Gents’Furnishing Goods
' have )u»t opened, in etore o! Mwwr*. Moore ft
McCrary, a handsome line of above goode, which I
?>ropoae selling at prices
Never Before Known !
'.»n m ' aud ae« my stock, vhi f h was bought
•>yrrd«iy t..r this market.
J. B. WRIGHT.
Living it Down.
“Dill your mother send yon on sueli
an errand as that to me ?’’
Bernard Reed, a lad of sixteen,
whose coarse, ill-fitting garments ill
accorded with the proud benring and
sensitive face, shrank from the cold,
stern eyes directed toward him.
“No, sir. She did not know that I
was going to look for work,”
Mr. Burchard looked keenly at the
frank young face.
“I knew your mother several years
ago. Did she ever speak of me ?”
“Not that I remember of.”
A bitter sneer curled the thin lips.
“How strange when we, used to be
each good friends."
Bernard looked puzzled, and came
to the conclusion that this strange
man was displeased at his mother’s
apparent forgetfulness of their old
friendship.
“I remember now of hearing moth
er say once, as you were riding by,
that she had known you when yoa
were a poor boy, that yon were rioh
and prosperous now, and she hoped
hnppy.”
“How very kind in her. Yes, I am
rich and prosperous now. There has
been a change in our surroundings
since I was a poor boy and she the
daughter of a millionaire. And so
you came npon your own responsi
bility ?”
“Yes, sir; I heard yon wanted a boy
in your store'of about my age.”
“I should want a boy a long time
before I would employ the son of Al
bert Reed, the defaulter.”
The blood suddenly receded from
the (ace of the listener, and then re
turning crimsoned to his temples.
“It is not true.”
Not many men would have gazed
unmoved into those wild imploring
eyes, seeming to entreat a denial of a
charge so terrible, bat Mr. Bnrchard
went pitilessly on:
“It is true, as you will find; Albert
Hem l, yonr father, was sent to the
penitentiary, and bat for an act of ex
ecutive clemenoy, in the lost month
ol bis life, would have died there.—
Didn’t you know that?”
“No; nor I don’t know it now."
“I/O ask your mother, boy; she will
tell you that what I say is true."
Bernard hardly knew how he found
himself oat on the street amid the
busy, bnstling crowd of the great city.
His brain seemed to be on fire; and
in’s heart that lately beat so high, lay
like lead in his bosom.
His father had died when be was a
mere child, but words and circum
stances rushed upon his mind, to
which he paid little heed at the time,
which aroused tears and snspidons
that nearly maddened him.
Iu a poor room, in the poorest part
of the city, sat Mrs. Reed, straining
her tired eyes over some fine sewing.
Leaning back in her chair with along
wViiry sigh, she glanced up at the
clock. It was considerably post the
Llmti for Bernard to retnrn from
school. What could detain him ?
Then she remembered what he had
said in the morning when he kissed
her good-bye.
‘You are working too hard, moth
er; I mast find something to do so as
to help you.”
What a good boy ho was! How
strong and hopeful! With all the
arrows and hardships which were
slowly weighing her down to the
grave, she coaid not feel that her life
was utterly devoid of sunshine while
be was left
As Mrs. Reed thus mused, hurried,
unsteady footsteps were heard ascend
ing the stairs, so nnlike those she was
expecting, that she arose, a vague
feeling of alarm at her heart as Ber
nard entered and advanced directly
toward her.
“Mother, Mr. Burchard says that
my father was—but no, I cannot name
it. Father—my father—could never
be so bad asjthat.”
Pressing her hand to her side, Mrs.
Reed sank back into her chair.
One glance at his mother’s pole face
and Bernard threw himself on his
knees and buried his face in her lap.
Mrs. Reed laid her trembling hand
on his bowed head.
“My poor boy 1”
Bernard lifted bis face, wet with
tears, to those tender, compassionate
eyes.
“He was unjustly accused, mother 1
O, surely he was innocent?”
More tender and pitiful grew the
voioe.
A pang of compunotion smote Ber
nard’s heart as he glanoed at the pale,
sorrowing face bent over him.
"Forgive me mother. I know now
what it is that has made your life so
sorrowful. But why dia you never
tell me this ? Yoa knew that I most
hear of it; that it must be cast up to
me as it has been. It was cruel in
him to leave me, his only son, a herit
age of shame like this.”
"Hush, Bernard; you must not
speak of yonr father thus to me. Ho
paid the penalty of his sin, for sin it
was; nor would I have you consider
it otherwise. Though the world scorn
and condemn him, you, my son, must
not reproach upon his memory. He
used money that was not his; he be
trayed the trust reposed in him. I
want you to see the thing be did in
all its blackness and moral deformity.
No man more truly repented or tried
more earnestly to atone. His last
prayer was that I might so live as to
lift the reproach from your name and
his.”
Rising to his feet, Bernard looked
sadly upon the speaker, from whose
eyes tears were falling fast.
“You have heeded that injunction
well, mother. I shall not forget your
teuebings. But if all are to judge me
us Mr. Bnrebitrd does, what will I
avail ?”
“They will not; you will find few
men like him; no one can really harm
you, Bernard, but yourself. As for
this, which so discourages and hin
ders yon now, you must live it down.”
This was the last conversation that
Bernard had with his mother on this
subject The following night, Mrs.
Reed was seized with hemmorrhage
of the longs, and before the dawn of
another day the tired heart which had
borne its hardens so patiently was at
rest
A few weeks Inter Bernard and Mr.
Bnrchard met again.
Bernard shrank before those keen,
eritieal eyes, which were quiok to note
the change in bis look and bearing.
“Yon found my words true. But
to condemn the son for the futher’s
sins is oracl and unjast, as yon will
acknowledge some day It’s the way
of the world boy. What can yon do
single-handed against the world ?”
Between Bernard and that jeering
smile there floated a pale face, whose
calm, vender eyes looked beseechingly
into his. He raised his hand np and
said:
“I can live it down.”
* * * * * * *
Twenty yours Inter there sat upon
the judicial beucb of a New England
eity a judge so noted for bis learning
and integrity that bis fame went ont
through all its length and breadth.
Few would have recognized that
dignified mao, whom all classes de
lighted to honor, ns the poor, friend
less lad whom we introduced t<> the
reader at the commencement of our
story* And yet, so it was. Step by
step, through difficulties mid discour
agements that would hare daunted u
less brave and resolute spirit, Bernard
Reed had slowly fought bis way up
ward until he stood at the head of his
profession and bad won a place among
the noblest of the land.
Blessed with the companionship of
a loved and loving wife, with happy
children clnstering about his kbees,
he had not been less fortunate than
in public life.
He did not forget, in bis prosperity,
the trials and sorrows of his youth;
apart from the legal bdnors be had
won, many lips praised—many hearts
blessed him. Inflexible in the dis
charge of bis official duties, never for
getting in weak sympathy for the
criminal, the good of the community,
whose faithful and honored servant
he was, no heart more qniok to feel
for the erring, no hand more ready to
lift them np, if possible, to a better
and purer life.
One day Judge Reed led’ np the
steps of his stately mansion a forlorn
looking boy, who clang sobbing to
him. He entered the room where his
wife was sitting with the youngest
child on her knee.
“My love, a terrible thing happened
in court to-day. One of the prison
ers sentenced, the father of this boy,
frenzied with shame and despair, shot
himself. I used to know the father
of this unfortunate man, who lives in
New York, and to whom I shall tele
graph. This little fellow is nearly
heart broken, and I leave him with
yoa to care for and comfort as only a
mother can.”
The following day an old man was
shown into the library where Judge
Reed was sitting.
“I received yonr telegram, sir. How
shall I thank yoa for the kindness yoa
have extended to the child of my poor,
unfortnnate son ?”
As Jndge Reed looked upon the
bowed head—bowed and wbitenod
more by sorrow thnn time—the long
tide of years rolled back. When be
spoke his voice was almost ns tremu
lous as bis:
“By dealing more kindly aud justly
than yoa once dealt with me.”
The old man tamed an inquiring
and pnzzled look upon the speaker.
“We have met before, Mr. Bnr
chard. Twenty years ago, a lad of
sixteen, I entered yonr office in search
of employment Do yon remember
what yon said to me ?”
That flashed and conscious face was
the only answer to bis qnery; nor was
any other needed.
"Do yon remember what I said to
yon at oar Becond and last inter
view ?"
There was no verbal response from
this, either, and Judge Reed contin
ued in a gentle tone:-
“God forbid that I should add a
feather’s weight to the Borrow that
is yours to-day, or fail to ascribe the
praise to Him to whom it belongs;
bat thanks to His goodness and the
teachings of one of the best of moth
ers, I have ‘lived it down.’ ”
Counterfeit dimes and dollars are
said to be in circulation, made of iron
and nickel-plated. Anything is ac
ceptable with us. Well risk them;
send in yonr subscription. .
The "moonshiners” are about the
only ones who have sncceeded in
keeping a secret still.
Mrs. Jesse James announces that
anything that may be said about her
is not so.
TIIK DIPFERENCE IN HllllllMI.
*, Peck’■ Milwaukee Huu.
An Eastern paper, in order to en
courage hogging in the lucidity in
which it is published, picks up the
gnu and takes aim as follows:
“A Wisconsin, man, while buggiug
bis girl one evening, received a tele
gram stating that be had fallen heir
to a fortune.”
The Eastern paper is right in its
efforts to stimulate a healthy senti
ment in favor of hugging, but it does
wrong to hold out snch inducements,
as it will not be one time iu ten thon-
saud that a man, while bogging a
girl, will receive snob a dispatch. He
will oftener receive a dispatch, bound
in leather, from the girl’s father,
which will inform him that he has
fallen over a fence and is heir to a
lame back. There should be no mon
ey consideration in a case of bagging,
and no hope of falling heir to any
thing. It is fortune enough to a man
to have a girl to hng.
Hogging can never become what it
shonld be—oar great uational recrea
tion and enjoyment, onr picftic, as it
were—nntil all thought of ontside
matters is eliminated from it, and the
hogging is simply done because there
is a good opportunity and no one to
say nay. The difference in bugging
can readily be seen by those who
have done a little of it themselves, if
they go to the theatre and watch the
actors and aotresses. It is not once
in a hundred times that hogging on
the stage is done because both parties
like it, bnt it is always done for mon
ey at so much a week and wardrobe
furnished. The actor oomes np to
the scratch like a hired man, and pats
bis arm around the actress as though
he were bolding np a tobacco sign,
and the actress smiles a two-for-a-
quarter smile and looks as though she
were taking pills. We have often
seen a couple of lovers in the audi
ence, who probably know scientific
hogging when they see it, look at this
stage hogging with scorn, and look at
each other as much as to say, “If it
was uh on the stage playing that
scene we would just break the audi
ence all np.” Occasionally a couple
of stage lovers do nnbend them
selves and get in a hng or two that
breaks a vest-buckle, bnt in those
cases one or the other blushes and
looks around at the wings to see
whether the actor’s wife or the ac
tress’ husband is looking.
There has got to be a certain
amonnt of feeling between the hug
ger and hnggee or it is a mere mat
ter o f form and not worth the price
of admission. Sometimes we think
we would like to get on the stage and
give some of those actors a few points
that would be of great benefit to them
in their business, bnt if we should of
fer to do so they would probably im-
pnte sinister motives to uh, and bit as
with a staffed elab. It is not that we
would care for the bagging, bat the
advancement of art
Said Brown: “The day I was-mar
ried I quit chewing tobacco, and I
toll you it was pretty hard on me that
day; but the next day I was all right
again.”
“How was that?”
“Well, the next day I commenced
chewing again.”
“Avoid that which von blame other
men for doing," says one of our wise
men. Well, things have come to a
pretty pass if a man can’t kiss bis own
wife.
Mra. Wru. H. Yauo-i-bilt pays her
cook (a mau) the sum of $7,000 per
year. We would not mind mixing her
hash.