Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

“GALLAHER'S INDEPENDENT,” PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT QUITMAJV, S A., J. C. G ALL AHER, TERMS Oi? SIDSCKIPTIOS I [ TWO DOLLARS pn- Annum in Advance. BV AND HY! by MAnaAiurr j. preston. Wht will it matter by and by. Whether niv path below wan bright, ~ Whether it wound through dark or light, Under a gray or golden sky, When I look back on it, by and by ? What will it matter by and bv. Whether, unhefaed I toiled alone, . Ptahing my foot against a atime v ' , Minsing the charge of the angel high. Bidding me think of thee by ami by? What will it matter bv and by. Whether with laughing jov T wont , Down tbnmph the years content, Never believing, nay. not I, Tears would be sweeter by ami by ? What will it matter bv ami by. Whether with cheek to cheek I've lain Close bv the nallid angel, Pain. Soothing myself through sob and sigli; 1 ‘All will be else wine by and by V* ” What will it matter ? Naught, if I Only am sure the war INc trod. Gloomy or gladdened, leads to God ‘Questioning not <*f the bow. the why, If I but reach Him, by ami by. 'Wliat will I care for the unshared sigh, If, in mv fear of slip or fall, 'Closely I’ve e.lurvr to tin' Christ through all, Mindless how rohgli the path mnv lie, Hi nee He will smooth it by ami by ? AIC it will matter bv and by, Nothing hut this : That Jov or Pain Lifted me skyward, helped to gain. Whether through rack or smile or sigh, Heaven — home— all in all, by and by. THE JAWS OF DEATH. BY PACT, I'AH.U.MX. '“Aiul may God have mercy on your •soul !" Tlipse—the closing words of the sentence , •of death which bad been pronounced upon 'me —were the onl y ones I heard from the i ’time when, by order of the officer, I stood up to receive the judgement of the law. The eonrt-room was crowded almost be vend its capacity, and all ages, sexes and 't 'editions of life were represented in that , %'irong. The dock was situated so that nlxmt two thirds of the room came w ithin i the mngi'of mv vision—the other portion 'including the gallery above, I had nnfieed •w hen I came in. Dnritur eileli and rvei'v •day of mv protracted trial the crowd of "cariosity had been large, but. now it ■seemed redoubled. What thoughts and emotions filled and auritnterl my mind for the short time I sat there oh that hard and vrnal scat! Iu all that, mass of living be ings there was not one who could partake | of that knowledge which was restricted to me alone—the knowledge of my innocence. All, from the evidence on the trial, and the verdict of the jury, from the Statements nml deductions of the newspapers, from a thousand other causes w hich operate on a populace excited by the commission of a 1 great crime in their midst, and whose con victimis are already half m ule up by the I arrest of somebody, all were Afire of mv j guilt. From the time I laid made the acquaintance of him for whose bloody deeds I was condemned to suffer, the hand of Fate had lain heavy upon me. That man—theretofore a stranger- laid one month ago so worked upon Mv frauk and Unsuspecting nature, had so insidiously nml artfully opened my heart and crept therein, that within two hours of om Meeting we were pledging and repjeilginp our eternal friendship in bottles of wine. All this alone. In twenty-four hoitfsnfter- Wurd I was taken to prison, there to re main until in due time I should lie brought to the liar of the court to answer for the murder of a citizen. The forms of justice (I was tnld) must bo observed, for ns to my conviction tiiere was no earthly doubt. The following report from a morning pa per shows why such was the general opin ion: “Our usually quiet town was last niprlit the scene of one of the most hrntal mur ders on record. At 12 o’clock a cry of pain, followed liy the report of a pistol, torn heard near the southeast tollgnte. The few people that -were in the neighborhood hurried to the spot, and beheld prone on the, ground the lifeless form of otic of our Wealthiest and moat respected citizens, David Elburne, Esq. A pistol-shot through the head, from whioli the Wood poured out freely, ami las rifled pockets told that he had been cruelly assassinated and robbed. Search was immediately in stituted for the murderer, and he was soon afterward found secreted under a shed near the scene of the dreadful deed, with an empty pistol in his hand, blood on his person, and the Watch of the deceased in his pocket. His face was livid w ith fear when detected, and his attempted expla nation of the condition in which he was f mnd was a mass of contradictions. He had a hearing before the Justice and was c immitted to prison. The name of the villain is Leonard Manor. Let speedy justice be meted out to him.” All the above, as a recital of facts, Was tr ft. nut the statement that I, Leonard Manor, was the author of the crime, was nntrue. But a mighty and strongly forged chain of circumstantial evidence was bound around me, which I was unable to break, and my counsel, Mr. Cook, met with his first defeat as a criminal nraoti t oner. The only witness that e mid rel u‘ the violent presumption of my guilt and disprove what had been brought against me, was not to be fonnd; made way with no doubt, by him. And there I sat aloue in that dock and felt what no man can describe. Protest, ray innocence I might, and swear it with aU the vehemence of an earnest sonl; but I would be. either laughed at for my audacity, or whistled down as a feigned lunatic. Oh, God ! what it is to be falsely judged ! To have an iron wall lietween your self-consciousness and the be lief of the outer world 1 To see yourself crowded into the grave by the torrent of popular fury, and yet have that in your bosom which might roll back the tide and save yon could it but reach out beyond the narrow circle in which is it confined ! Oh, what is physical strength to the power of this internal sense in such an hour ns this!! How willingly would I have bartered tho j best gifts of nature if those around nn cotihl have partaken of this feeling ami know what I knew. The mercy of the Almlgbtv seemed a meaningless thing. But He could not break His law, even to nave the life of one of His creatures from an unjust death 1 The closing words of ths sentence j •which doomed me to the scaffold awoke; me from these reflections. I sank to mv seat, as a sigh of relief, like the groan of °ome TiTosirth'v monster, went up from i the multitude in the court room, followed hy a subdued hum which had before VOL. I. I reigned. The people began to move out, | speaking to each other and smiling, pleased that file end was aa they wished and be lieved‘it would lie. Oh, how more than ever, then, the silent and helpless savior in mv bosom straggled ill its hounds iu one desperate effort to go out and become absorbed in the thoughts of others I But all iu vain; my heart sickened; and the pall of despair was upon mo, as I submit ted myself to the officers who were to re turn me to the jail. The court room was in the second story of the building, and was reached from the outside by a more than ordinarily steep iiight of sti ps of grey stone, about twenty four in number. As I emerged from the front door at the top of these .steps, a bright, piercing ray of the sun met me full in the face. Dazzled for an instant 1 stepped forward again. But T missed the step stone, and, unable to recover myself, fell headlong down the way. * * * * I sat on a low, rough couch in the dark est, dampest dungeon of the jail. To the cold iron gyves which shackled my legs at the ankles was attached a chain of like metal, of, perhaps, four feet ill length, terminating at a ring on the bottom of the cell. My bauds were free, and with them I rubbed my eves as one who hopes thereby to make them do their duty better. I could have but a faint view of the interim of my apartment, as the only light that reached it was between the two bars of a small opening which served as a window, situated iu an oblique direction from where I sat, and apparently about seven feet from the ground. A confused m'd shapeless idea of something awful that had happened, was happening or would hap pen, weighed upon me. Wliat it was J could not determine—even my situation, I clad in k convict's garb and bound in j chains, did not strike me with any kind of feeling akin to surprise—l barely noticed it—so emasculated was my menial organizaii m and impotent of thought. It •vius in tills stupid state I sit, when a noise broke upon n y ear, coming, us it seemed, from immediately in front of me. I peered iu that direction, but could see nothing, vet the noise, which was a com mingling iif a grating, and a rumbling sound, continued. Presently it censed, mil the figure of a mull began to ileline itself before my view. Noarer it came to ward mo, when —oh, lieascn ! the form ' and features of him fell full lipoii my j gaze. Then it Was that f suW all, knew j all, felt all, remembered alls A stream of j memories came rushing in upon mo like n torrent. That man’s presence drove the clouds away and ab was clear. Here 1 was. condemned as a fel >n, but before me stood j the felon himself. Moved by the impulse J which this sudden discovery inspired I essayed to strike the wretch, but my arm refused to obey the biililiug*of my will; a paralysis seemed to have s dzed me. An attempt to speak met with not miuihliettci success, as nothing but a whisper, scarcely audible to myself, escaped my lips. He now advanced, and, takin; a seat liesiih nie on the Cot, spoke: “Manor, you know yew old friend and companion, Sangin ? I found you, and am come to condole with yon.” The tone with which he uttered these words, and the sarcastic fluilo with whi"h he accompanied them, chilled mo through. How I could haWi crushed him. Ho con tinued: “Ohtte is a science, Manor. Its p<j fect practice is an art, and, like other arts, it requires instruments You have been a good ofle. I um< and you in iny little operation against old Elbrnne, nml it was .i perfect rtuccessj You were caught with the blood of your —my victim, still hot upon you; the smoke of your —my shot, was not ye t out of the pistol chain her. I tell you, Manor, it was a grand Triumph of art. It is a pity you could not live to aid in future successes of mine —you’re too good ft glove to be thrown away —I must have more out of you before you die—by Jove, you shall lire J” Throughout this address I sat- with downcast face, feeling how utterly miser able and forsaken of God T was. At tin word “live,” I raised my eyes and looked at him. His small, snaky eyes glistened like diamonds, and a sardonic smile played j over his features. j “Yes—live,” he said, “and,go with me. 11 have cheated justice—why not serve iu ! justice the aawu w.iv, for the time at j least You are bound to he hung some- I time, and T am bound to die peacefully: j but we'will postpone both events as long i its possible. My art being perfect, my resources are, of course, inexhausti ble.” Before I was aware of it he was 'manipu lating my fetters, and in a short time he told mo to rise. This second effort at mov ing was successful, and I walked several paces’front my bed, free from the irons. In this new state my revengful feeling?, Wonderful as itseems, entirely disappeared. He appeared again as a friend, and J re i preached myself for ever having thought ; ill of him. i “We will go out as I came in,” said Sangiu; and divesting himself of ait extra coat which he had on, he threw it over my shoulders and led me, as he expressed, “to freedom and a sphere of usefulness.” I have an indistinct recollection of pass ing through shadowy corridors, up and down steps, through narrow doors, and over walls, and a clear Idea of surroundings , did not possess me until I fonnd that we j were plodding through the dust of a coun try road, with no sign of a human liabita | tion before ns, and the town sinking out i of sight in the dim distance behind us. \ As I looked at my companion, ns we were ; | walking along, I felt as one fascinated by j | one he knows to be a villain. We proceeded in silence for some time, when .Sangiu called my attention to a ri-; derless horse, standing near the fence at : the right of the road before us. As we approached, another object met our eyes— a well dressed man lay on the ground be fore ns, groaning with pain. In a faint tone he told us that seized with a vertigo, he had fallen from his horse, and, being unable to rise, feared that he had broken some bones. Sangiu directed me to sit down and support the gentleman’s head upon my lap while he made an examina tion. When I had done this, lie quickly took everything which the wounded man had upon his person including a Costly j watch and a plethoric purse, and placed j them in his own pockets. While we were j j looking in astonishment at this bold pro- i ceediug, Sargin drew from his boot a long i I murderous looking knife, and plunged it} ; into the bo vim of the helpless traveler! ! The blood spirted into my face, and my j i person seemed, almost in a twinkling, to I I e it iged with gore. Before I could re- 1 J gain my feet, Sangiu, with the most uu-j ! earthly yell I eiu leaped upon the QUITMAN, (I A.. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 18. 1874. horse and disappeared. What a situation was hero—oh, cursed fate I Completely lost in a sea of bewilderment, I cannot sav how long I might have stood looking alternately at the bloody oi r t so before me and uiy equally bloody self, did not the clattering hoofs behind me arouse me. 1 turned and saw a mob of horsemen bearing down in the direction where I stood. Leaving a few to take charge of the unfor tunate wayfarer, the lest turned in the di rection whence they came, first having se cured me on one of the horses. Fleet, as the w iml we pushed forward, until a sort of dizziness seized me. and I felt as if 1 was being whirled through some wild and awful dream, and yet with just enough of co ,s ioushete to know that there was a ba sts of rculity to it all. All at once wo halted on the bank of tire, which shot up a million forked tongues of lurid flame. A heavy black cloud hung all around, and the air wn dense with a sulphurous odor. A dread ful inad-house noise .resounded iu tnyears, and 1 thought that here was Tophet, and 1 was to he a victim to the insatiate Mo loch. A mlimed hell tolled one stroke, like an echo from a tomb, on my right, and, looking lip. my eyes met a black draped gallows which reared its hideous form into the air. No time was allowed me to contemplate this new feature, even had. I been so inclined, for I was instantly ' taken charge of by a pair of hangmen and placed on the scaffold. The rope was placed around my neck, and the stillness which took the place of the walking to and fro on the scaffold, told rue that I stood there alone. I muttered a prayer, hut before a dozen syllables were uttered, all that was substantial beneath mo gave way, and I dropped suddenly in a direct line downward; a piercing pain ran like a ling vr through iny head; everything grew dark and lvil, and purple and white, by turns—until, after what seemed an age of agony, my feet touched something, a rao iqentaiy light flashed upon me, and, iu n syncope, I lost all thought and memory and feeling. * ****# A murmur of voices crept upon my car, and slowly and gradually I revived. 1 opened tn.v eves mul found myself in tin company of several people, spine of w hom were rubbing my hands, others adminis tering restoratives, and all, more 'Or loss, contributing to my restoration. As my senses returned, I saw that 1 was in a strange room and sitting by a window. Out of that window I Moked, and—great heaven! wliat a spectacle met my yves ! It was the yard of a prison, and pendant therein from the cross-beam of a gallows, hung tlic. lifeless body of Sangin! The j sight at once recalled all the memories of the past; but there was a hiatus which \V"" ; yet to be explained. It was done so b\ a kind attendant, who informed me that my fall at the court, house steps nearly deprived me of life, and did deprive luo of reason -that after a brief incarceration iu my cell it was thought best to place me under medication, and I was removed to the hospital .I.■ |i,il'lment of the prison that while there the criminality of Sangin. the anther <Jf the murder for Which I had been condemned, was discovered through the appearance of my missing witness, some unguarded expressions o' Sangin himself during a debauch in a neighbor ing village, anil other circumstances which had come to light since my trial -that he was tried and condemned, ami made a ! confession, in which he stated that he had | administered a narcotic potion to me, I pushed me under the shed, and then after j waylaying Mr. Elburne, and , taking aj large amount of money from his person, ! had placed the watch and pistol on me, j smeared mo with blood, and then escaped; \ \ that be gave poison to a cabman who was j I cognizant of bow aud by whom I was 1 placed under tho shed. The cabman was | my missing wittiest, and his recovery from ! tire driigj although he was for some time in a state of insensibility, and on the verge of death, was the main cause of my salvation. That, following the opinion of one of the medical board attached to the prison, I ivies placed at tho window, in the belief that the sight of my would bo destroyer in the hands of the law would have a beneficial effect. That when lie mounted the scaffold I looked calmly and vacantly ut him, hut when the- drop fell I I swooned. As I revived, there were evident indications of tho mueh-wished j for change, and when, with a Clearer un | dorsbihding, 1 looked again upon the [ dangling body of the villain, it was com- I piete, and reason resumed its reign. I j returned to my home to recuperate my I physical health, and it is in the pleasant j days of convalescence that I commit to paper and give to the world this recital of my entrance into and exit from “the jaws of death.” — I'hiliuMjihin National Mail: Duration of Criminal Trials. In ancient times trials never lasted be yond a day. Mr. Burke said trial by jury was unfit for cases which did not lie within tlie comparts of a day; and it was not until modern times that they lasted longer. In the case of Lord Gourgo Gor don, in 1781, Lord Mansfield sat from eight in the morning until five next morn ing, and as long as f|o arid tho jury were able to sit, lie felt himself bound in law to do so. But when trials Caine to last sev eral days, it was physically impossible. In the ease, of Elizabeth Canning, tried for perjury, and which excited immense interest, tiie trial lasted fifteen days. .In the State trials for treason in 179-1, Thol wali’s lasted four days, Horne Tooko’s six, and Hardy’s nine days. Of course in such cases it was physically impossible to sit on without intermission, anil accordingly Lord Kenyon and the judges resolved that they had power to adjourn, but only, as Lord Kenyon stated on the ground of actual physical necessity. This was laid down in 1796, and in lAl!) Lord Tenterden applied the same rule to trials lor misde meanor. Until the Tiehbome case, no one had ever conceived that there was power to adjourn a criminal trial for any other cause; and a long train ofjndgcs —Gurney, Creswcll, Wightman, Willes, and Watson ; held that it was inadmissible) to adjourn for purposes of evidence, though it might be admissible to suspend the trial for a short time for the attendance of witnesses in consequence of some unavoidable acci dent, Even in civil cases adjournment is only allowed by a statute passed in 1854, and that- statute does not apply to criminal cases. The adjournment in the Tiehbome case for' the purposes of evidence are therefore unprecedented in British law, especially tho first adjournment, which was not for the attendance of witnesses, but fur the discovery of now evidence.■ THE BELLE OF MONTEREY. The Monterey of twenty-Avo years ngo was a vastly different town from the Mon terey of to-day. The silent streets, now the almost exclusive property of geese, cows, lihd nomadic hogs, then echoed to the ringing hoofs of the gayly attired (iihitUertis horse; the uniform of the Eng lish and American naval officer contra t and with the staid black mantilla of the pretty senorita; the guitar tinkled on moonlit nights under the lattice of the dark-eyed belle; and the rotnunoedf Spanish life min gled With the bustle and activity of a pros perous seaport town. Now, an unten uuted harbor, a Mass of half-ruined, un occupied buildings, and a drowsey air o neglect aiid indifference, constitute tin modern Monterey. Still, the roses and the tall holly lie iks cling lovingly to the adobe walls, and peep iu through the low windows; hut the blushing, olive-cheeked '•iris that offered them to the lounging wooers at the garden gates twonty-tivi years,ago have grown into dowdy matrons, wrinkled by family cares, or else sleep, peacefully hi the oil grave-yard, whos margin is washed by the spring-tides, which, knowing no change, murmur yet as of old on the crescent beach. ’With all its dreary somnolence, there is a charm about this old town, sitting like some sad widow by the sea, mourning the commerce which has deserted her, and yet, in all her grief, Enoch Arden like, hoping and waiting for a sail aiul see ing The great still's that globed thenißeves ia heaven The nollmv-lielli'iviag ocean, and again The scarlet shafts of sunrise -but no sail. Slowly in the bay sunk the evening sun on the 24th of December, 1848. Across the waters streamed its last golden anil purple rays, glistening on the wet sands, tenderly shimmering through the branches of the oak that stpod i.i the old Spanish grave-yard, aiul disappearing among the pines that sentineled the hiil-tops in the buck-ground. Maria Ignaeia Gomez, as the angelus bell rung out. from the MisstiWi 'church, crossed herself devoutly, for a moment neglecting the rose-vino that climbed to ; the red-tiled roof of her low, long dwell ing. And as she stood in the garden,with crossed hands and large brown eyes up lifted, her black shawl drooping from her grateful shoulders, and her red lips mov iiig in prayer, a painter could desiYo no better model for a Madonna or an Evan geline, for the face had all the sweetness of the otic, with the resigned expression of patient waiting for the other. A sonr lookitig, querulous face appeared at the deep window. “Gome here, Maria; 'tis. supper-time.” “Yes, vuulri’ min;" and Maria, securing the erratic vine to a nail in the adobe wall, entered the house. Ten years before the date of our story, when Marin’s s.rent •'•em.inhood was at its dawn, foremany a mile rode in the youth of t.he southern country to catch a glimpse of and exchange a word with the belle of Monterey. A rose-bud from flier lingers was a rare gift, to be carefully' preserved and worn with jlride, arid a kind glance from her broWn eyes sent the recipient back to his rancho on the Salinas a happy man. Never a cloud rested on that calm, earnest face,nor passion found a moment’s harbor in her bn ast. But at last h r sor row came, in this wise: In Jnue, 1838, the stout ship Delight furled her canvas and dropped her anchor in the Hay of Monte rey. She was owned by the great Hud son’s Bay Company, anil was bound north to drain the posts of the company on the Frazer and Columbia rivers o f the valuable furs which lay in tlmir s; 're houses. The supercargo of the Delight, James Gilmour, was a son of the viee j president of this opulent corporation, and : showing a positive disinclination for each ! and all of the learned professioiis, and ex -1 pressing a hearty contempt for tile hura j drum life of Europe, had been sent by bis i father (o the l’jeitie shores, to. drink his J All of tlie'advemnres fee which he thirsted. | Ho was a youth of a singular force of i character, very undemonstrative, and | possessing some decided opinions of the j ilili'lJimte life of the wealthy youth of Ghent j Britain, which had won for him in his university (lays the title of The Radical. The unanimous verdict of the jury of old wise heads to whom Gilmour. senior, had appealed for an opinion of his son’s character, was that James was talented, but odd—an eccentric young man, in fact —who, unless travel tempered him down, would never be an acquisition to tho mer chant office within whoso dusty precincts his father had amassed a bulky fortune. So James found himself aboard the De light, anchored in the Bay of Monterey, and, tlu/ugli nominally supercargo, really in that tangled muz a of a young man in pursuit of a vocation. “Captain Brown,” said Gilmour, after that worthy seaman had squared tho yards to Iris satisfaction, got his fancy v.aist ■ lpthes at the gangway, and inspected the fitfing-on of tho good clothes, which a merchant vessel dons in port—“do you know any of tlie inhabitants of this odd looking village on the hill side ?” “ ‘Village!’ Mr. Gilmore. I pray you don’t call this a village. This is a city, sir—the first city in California—and if I mistake not,” continued tho captain, “yonder at tho custom house stands tho alcalde, a hospital gentleman to whom our company is indebted for many favors.” A few moments afterward, both speak ers were heartily greeted by that official, ! who, as tho boat’s keel grated on tire i sand, welcomed them to Monterey, j Among tho many young and pretty j Spanish girls whom Gilmour met in Mon terey was Maria Ignacia. A spirit of rivalry induced lpm to throw himself into the lists with the Spanish gallants who strove for tho fair Maria’s smiles. He was more than successful. The difference of his manner, his recitals of adventure in Europe, and descriptions of tho grand places of history, were something so novel to Maria, so totally different from the stereotyped compliments of her woers, that sho found a charm in his society which, in her innocence, sho cared not to conceal. Bui the end came at last. Tho Delight was to proceed northward, and tho supercargo prepared to take leave of all his Spanish friends.' “And so, Maria,” said Gilmour, igi tlio I evening preceding his departure, “our j pleasant visit comes to an end. Well, I ; iiavo impioved my Spanish; and you, littlo Madonna, if ever tlie fates take you to I England) will recognize the abbeys uud ; tho churches from my descriptions.” Maria Ignacia did not reply, bid stooped jto phk up an ahalone shell, wbi h, wot and siiceuv, lav in tin: saiul at her feet, j “Ami now, Maria, I have only uau re- quest to make, which our charming ac quaintance warrants. It has three parts, however- a souvenir from this dark hair of yours; a letter, now and then, when jroh weary of your Monterey lovers, uud wise to talk to me across the water; uud— a kiss.” Still no answer from the girl who, with eyes east down, strolled along by his side. “Then I take it for granted that my prayers prevail, Maria.” Her soft eyes were raised to las, and he was surprised to And how pale the face was, and how moist, the rounded cheek. He raised her lips to his with a half sigh, and tin'll, as if a ne\y thought had sud denly struck him, said, abruptly, half to himself and half to her: "Good God lit can’t bo so, Maria 1 Tell me—do you love me ?” The wonderful passion in the full brown eyes, so tender aiul despairing, told him jail; and then, liken foolish young man, he took her in his arms, ami swore 'itl tin oaths that all lovers have so often sworn and so often broken; and when they strolled hack over the sands, Maria’s tears were gone, and James Gilmour clasped tho hand of Ins promised wife. This was all the romance in Maria’s life. The next day the Delight sailed, and for | ten years neither ship nor supercargo were heard of in Monterey. But she never married. She had a strange way of every evening walking to the hill-top where the old fort stood, and looking wistfully out across tho water; then sorrowfully and re signedly returning to her home, nursing her invalid and sour-teiiipered mother, and training tho roses about the adobe walls. . On this Christmas eve, .Maria Ignaeia, kneeling before her old-fashioned en graving of the Madonna, thought of the manger iu Bethlehem centuries ago, and wondered sorrowfully if James Gilmour was enjoying iu his English home the Christmas tree and the mistletoe, and all those games he had told her of when they walked on the sands ten years ago. And then her thoughts went hack to that June evening when lie kissed her bps and called her his wife. Boom ! Boom 1 Boom 1 through the still night air. Maria opened her window and looked out. A party of Portuguese whalers went rapidly by, anil she learned from their excited exclamations, that a ship had gone ashore brt tfic Foifft Pinos rocks. “May God and the Virgin succor them 1” she murmured piously, as she hurried to wrap her shawl around her, and was soon in the street. Everyone was astir. Men on horseback with ropes rode furiously along the beach and toward the Point; the whalers manned their boats, sat, tlieiv sails, and sped before tlie blast through the. moonlit water. They were all too late. The cruel, pointed rocks had torn the ill-fated vessel to frag ments, and the breakers dallied with spar and mast, now flinging them high np on the beach, and again drawing them bank to hurl them once more.against the brown cliffs. But hot a single body did the waves throw up that night. ChristriVos Day dawned, and when Maria Ignnoin Gomez looked from her window down to the crescent bench, she saw a crowd of men standing about something, j They lifted it np and bore it through the ! street, and to her door, for hers was the house nearest the beach. “Is ho dead.?” she asked, fearfully. “When we first Saw him,” said a winder, “he was clinging to a spar, and before we got the host out ho was washed ashore.” They laid him oh a bed. His dark beard was full of sand and weeds, and a white froth issued from his lips; a finely built man-handsome, no dpubt, when those eyes, now staring so blindly, had light and life, arid those well-cut lips moved and smiled. “Maria- Marin, what nils you ?” She was standing by the .bedside, her hands crossed over her breast, her eyes as fixed and vacant ns the dead before her. “O, my beloved I” she moaned, laying her white face on his bruised and stained breast; “at last, after so many years.” And then sho smoothed back the tangled hair, and wiped the foam from the livid lips, and straightened out the limbs of him who had come to seek her after so long. For it was her great consolation that he had been time even to death. They buried him behind the old fort, and Maria took up the thread of her life again. And now the roses were doubly dear to her, for they were for his grave. I (trcrlantl Monthly. OoNVKTiuuA'riflci is I'oNoKKHK. - Mention having been made of the ninnbey of late Confederate officers in Congress, if,, may be will to append their names and States. Alabama has Lieiit-Col. John H. Caldwell, Maj. Janus 11. Sloss and Captailis diaries Hays and Charles Pelham. Senator Goidthwaite was also the adjutant-general of the state during the wav. Georgia Ims Major-Generals John B. Gordon and Pierce M. B. Young, Brig-Gen. Philip Cook, Col. Hiram P. Bell, Lieut,-Colonels Morgan Rawls and James H. Blount, and Major R. 11. T. Whitolny, tho latter a re publican. Mississippi lias Brig-Gen. James L. Alcorn and Col. L. (,). C. Lamar. Missouri lots Brig-Gen. John B. Clark and Maj. Robert A. Hatcher. North Carolina lias Major-Gen. Matthew \V. Ransom, Brig-Gen. Robert B. Vance, lately declared himself on the floor of the House ready for another rebellion, and Colonels James M. Leach, Alfred M. Waddell and Wm. M. Robbins., Tennessee has Lieut,- Colonels W. C. Whitthorne and John 1). C. Atkins. Texas has Colonels DeWitt C. Gildings, Roger Q. Mills, Major Asa A. Willie, and privates W. K; Herndon anil W. P. Me,Lean. Virginia lias Brig- Gen. Eppa lluuton and Major Thomas Whitehead. James B. Sen tor, republican representative from the Fredericksburg district, also campaigned with the Con federate army as eorresp indent of the Southern Associated Press. Poe’s Sihteii.—For many years the an- j nouneeroefit, “A sister of Edgar A- Poe! is living at Baltimore, in great destitu- j tion,” has’appeared in the exchanges at I irregular intervals. Tho Baltimore (laznlt ■ has conferred a boon upon newspaper j readers iti supplementing tho old time | paragraph with the following: , , | “Rev. George W. Powell, pastor of the ! Univeraalist church, delivered to Miss | Rosalie M. Poe, the aged and helpless, sister of Maryland’s brilliant poet, Edgar A. Poe, the sum of SO4-35, the not prt - cecils of his lecture recently delivered for her benefit, entitled “A Warning Voice from the Grave of Edgar A. Poe.” The, feeble old lady expressed herself in terms of warm gratitude, but spokts gloomily of lmr future.” MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS. California mailo 85,000,000 cigars List year. The Baptists have in Pennsylvania, 401 Hniulsy school*, 6,025 toudhors, 42,365 scholars. A Kansas couple paid ‘heir marriage fee in b itter. They belonged to Pm.crime do 1 creme. “Lets go and inflate” is the way tin stateslhen in Washington put their eon viviid invitations how. “Tiio ono thing,” says b’eiin Paul “which a tbaiilen most easily forgets is how she looks hence mirrors were invented. At the wedding of New A’lirk and Brook lyn the Venetian ceremony will be revived of throwing tho “Ring” into the river. “Well, wjfe, you can’t say that I over contracted bail habits,” “No, sir, you generally expand them.” A Western paper announces that board can be obtained at a large and shady brick goutlenhuu’s residence. An incoherent, gentleman living iu New York has built a shed over a sun-dial irt Ips garden to protect It from the weather. (>n a woman with red, lmir who wrote portrv—Unfortunate, woman ! liow sad ii your lot ! Your ringlets sue red, but your poems are not. “AVllore are you going ?" asked ali tie buy of another, who had slipped on an icy pavement. “Going to get up !” was the blunt reply. Rector’s daughter, (to Sunday scholar)— “Oh, you have sin elder brother, well, how old is he ?” Schoolboy— “Dunno*, miss, but lie’s just started o’ swearing. ” After asking-your name in the State of Arkansas, the natives are. in the habit of inquiring, in a confidential tone, “Well, now, wliat was vor name afore yer moved to these parts ?” A negro held a cow while a cross-eyed man was to hit heron the hfiul with an axe. The negro,observing the man’s eyes, iu some fear inquired: “Is yon gyine to bit whnr you looks?” "Yes.” “Don hold do cow yourself, ” Slid Giiffoe. A Pennsylvania editor, disgusted with the ordinary prospectus, comes out. fairly and frankly. He says his paper is “an airy old sheet, devoted to wind, whisky, wickedness and other religious matters. Vox Popnli, vox Beelzebub 1" “Biddy,” said a lady, “step over and see how old Mrs. Jones is this morning.” In a few tnimives Biddy returned with the information that Airs. Jones was seventy two years, seven months and two days old that, morning. A rich old fellow was waited upon for a subscription to rebuild the fence about the cemetery. His reply was characteristic as well as humorous: “Gentlemen, I have made it a rule iu my business, never to make any repairs-uiHSI tho tenants begin to complain.” A farmer sent to an orphan, asylum for a boy that wils smart, active, brave, tract able, prompt,, industrious,..clean,, intelli gent, good-looking, reserved aiid modest. The snperihtondent wrote back that un fortunately they liad only human boys in that institution. It is affirmed that a man loses one ounce of brains every ten years after the age of thirty-five. This goes far to confirm the public suspicion that Secretary Bio,hunison is so vend centuries old.— Brooklyn Argus. A newly married lady, “just for fun,” hid a toy snake in her husband's boot n few days ago. The result of the joke was somewhat peculiar. The husband, on discovering the mock reptile, first, took a critical look at himself in a mirror, and then going to a closet, seized his demijohn and threw it far out into a neighboring pond. In Charles tho Second’s reign, a free table was allowed for the court chaplains. At one time, however, tho king, being in necessitous circumstances, ordered this dinner to be discontinued, but, to soften matters, honored the clergymen wit). Ins presence at the last intomteil dinner. The grace used (o bo “God save the King and bless the dinner,” but Hr: Smith, wjio pre sided on this , occasion, .transposed the words to "God blows tlio Kftfg,’ aiid save the dinner." “And it shall he saved,” said the king, amused nt the doctor’s hu mor, and countermanded the order. A case of inisiindersti.h'ding occurred up in the country during last week’s trip: Riding up to a hotel, in Oourtland county Iwe saw tlie big, smart landlord with his J boys, smoking short pipes on tho balcony, while his wife was sweeping around the chairs. “Hello ! Do you keep this hotel ?” “No, sir, I reckon not; this tavern keeps me.” “I mean, are you master here ?” “Waal, sometimes I am (looking at the old lady’s broom), but I guess the boys an’ I ‘run’ the stable -take your horse ?” “(lot anything to drink round here ?” “Yes, everything drinks around jliere.” “Any ales ?’’ “Touch of the rhciiVnntiz myself, folks generally healthy, though.” “I mean liaVo you any porter ?” “Ye,s, John’s our porter. Hold h'fs hoss John." “I mean any porter to drink ?” . “l’orter to drink? Why, John can drink, an’ it' he Can’t drink enough, I kin whip,a right Smart o’ linker myself.” “Pshaw -stupid ! have I got to come dawn and soe myself V” “You kin come down, Shaw Stupid, afnl see yourself if you want to thar’s a good looking glass in the bar-room.” —■——— Grace Greenwood, in her lust letter from Colorado,' describes a typical “poor-white” j family of Missouri, careless, shiftless, and S intolerably lazy, tlie daughters of which i were accustomed to go barefoot till the [ soles of their feet became as lmrd as horn; | ! and then tells this .story: “One of these i young ladies, on coming bolide one day I from a long tramp in the rain after tlie cows, 1 was standing cm the hearth drying | her clothes, when her mother drawled out, | ‘Sal, thar's— a -live-- Coal- under —rer— 'foot.’ Tho girl slightly turned her head, j and drawled back. ‘Which foot, mammy?’” —• + j A dispatch from Aurora, Indiana, says: i “The wife of Rev. Mr. Denser died of . trichinosis after a sickness of twenty-liv. j days. This is the second death out !<>f nine persons who have been attacked I S from eating diseased pork.” DVaiNKftS CAlius. .1 AS. 11.111 INTER ATTORMBY AT L, A W l , QUITMAN*, bYiooks county, ueohoia. —o— — ( Willpfootluc In the CountioH of the Southern Circuit, KcholMttml Clinch of the Hrunawick. and Mitchell <ff tiio Albany. *vruihoo tMV fc r Juno*&-tf j. s. DENTIS'ir, Office Up Stairs, Finch's Corner, aug23-4m _____ W. 11. nF.NNKTT. H. T. KINOMiKUItY BENNETT & KiNQSBERRY, Attorneys at I.atV ‘ii UITMA N, Brooks County, - Ot'oriffa. Jue2B-tf NO. 43. EDWAR9 R. HARDER, •1 y • Attorney nt Law', QUITMAN, BROOKS COUNTY, - • GEORGIA, O iy ■ w . • • ’• h Late ah AHROoiate J ll * t in* CVft* H u. S. for Utah :|ml NHupwdi#;.Jforrit-oriui; now Jiulx-i County Court, Brooks County, Uu.. inay24-l‘2mo DR. E. A. JELKS, PRACTISING PHYSICIAN; Qiiiiliiian, Ga. -L i. < OFFICE Brick building aßoining tho wturo at Mohaw. BritfgH, John* A Cos., Kcroven street. limv Utf - MISCELLANEOUS A1) VKHTISEMENTS. i). W. PRICE, MERCHANT TAILOR; QUITMAN, GA., r* * Woulil inform the citizoim of Quitman anti sur rouutliuj' country, that he has Juetopotivd a FIRST OLA®* MERCHANT AND TA'.LORtNfi ESTABLISHMENT IN QUITMAN, AND HAS ON HAND A FIsS LOT OF CLOTHS AUD CASSIMERES; SUITABLE FOtt MAKING DRESS AND BUSINESS SUITS; He has also oh Haiid a Select Stock of HEADY MADE CLOTHING; CUTTING, CLEANING AMI- R i: P AIRlNtf tfoirtON SHORT IfOTICE. PRICES moderate; -hm CREECH & NEWSOM; DEALERS IN DRY GOO I) Si G lIOCKRIES, Liquors,' Flour, 6acoii, etc.' QUITMAN, GAY mcylO-t.f t