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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.