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“GALLAHER'S INDEPENDENT;
PUBLIHHED EVERY SATURDAY AT
QUITMAN, GA.,
by
J. C. GALLAHER,
TKRMS OF SUBSCRIPTION I
two DOLLA HSper Annum in Advance.
FORK VlSft.
BY MARY W. MH'kLBS.
The shimmering m<Kmbcarafl sifting through
The elm-boughs, kissed the river;
"While night-winds caught again tho words--
Love ever, and forever,
Alas! fair summers come and pass,
And fondest hearts B<x*n sever;
One pleading praver on pairing lips—
Love me ever, and forever.
Again the broad, brown breast of earth
June's regal splendor cover;
/Wain liven touch, love wa to Join
Forever, and forever.
Their lives touch here, ono loyil heart
Fool* life** love-dream is over,
And mourns a dead that ne’er will wake—
Dead love is dead—forever 1
1
A REVEALTION FROM THE SEA.
‘‘l may write to you, Alice, mayn't I?”
Alice shook her head, “Better not,”
(she said; “ranch better not.” Still the
denial was faint.
“But I shall write,” said the young man,
warmly; “it is all the comfort l have. I
don’t ask you to write to uie; hut I will
write to you, and ”
“He would he angry,” said Alice, slink
ing her head; “no, you, really musu’t. ”
“All right,” said the sailor,with a warm,
sunuysimlo; “to your sister, then—-all
right. 1 know you’ll go and ask her for a
letter sometimes. Good-by, darling—-one
kiss.”
The kiss was given hurriedly and sur
reptitiously, and the sailor sprang from the
landing-stage into a boat that was waiting
alortg-side, and presently the oars wore
Hashing in the sunshine, ns she made rap
idly for a bul k lying in the stream. Alice
stood and watched the receding boat
watched it till it reach the ship and was
hauled up on the davits. Presently the
cheery song of the sailors was heard over
the water, the clink of the windlass, as
they lauded the anchor homo. Then she
suook out her sails and departed. A shore
boat, however, had put off from the ship
at the very last moment, and c-ooje slowly
against the tide toward the land. It
reached the landing-stage, and a wizened,
elderly man landed and comes up the
stairs.' •
"Well, Alice," he said, “well, you've
waited, a long timo for Dicky —good girl,
good girl 1 Now my birdie, we’ll go home
to our little cage.”
Alice sighed and put her hand in his arm
and they went off, be with a springy,
shambling gait, meant to be sprightly and
juvenile; she with a slow, lifeless step, that
yet kept pace with him.
Richard Toft, the ship owner, who had
just lauded, was seventy years old, or more,
and lie had married Alice Graham, who
was only nineteen. But then, Toft was
tee richest man in the port of Mel ford li ■
gis, and everybody said she lmd done well
for herself. There had been some silly
love passages between her and William
Black, the son of Widow Black, of Wood
bine cottage; but lie was only a mate in
one of Richard's Ships, and could K-v< r
have made a homo for her, to say nothing
of the misery of marrying a sailor, and be
ing a widow, as it were, for four years out
of five. Now, it wasn’t in the course of
nature that Dicky Toft should live forever;
and then, if she played her cards well,
what a happy woman she might he ! She
would have to play her cards, mind you,
for she was a poor girl when she married,
and Dicky had kept all his money at his
own disposal; but then, what fool like an
old fool ? and a pretty girl, like Alice,
ought to bo able to wind him around her
little finger.
Certainly Mr. Toft was wonderfully
proud of his wife, and with good cause,
for she was one of the prettiest girls in
Melford. To be sure, after her marriage
she seemed to fade a little, whilst Dicky
seemed to grow young and green again,
and responded to all the railery of which
he was the subject as archly and wickedly
us any grizzled old monkey on a perch.
Nothing was too good for Alice in Mr.
Toft's opinion. He bought her bawls
from the Indies, beautiful muslins and
silks that would stand on end; he gave her
jewels, too, and decked her out with
chains and trinkets and earrings, till she
grew ashamed of her splendor.
By and by, Willie Black came home
from a long voyage, and ono of the first to
welcome him and to envite him to his
house was Mr. Toft, the ship-owner. He
had heard all about this little love affair,
but he hud such confidence in his wifo—
she was such a jewel, so devoted to him—
lie was anxious that his rival should see
how' completely she had forgotten him.
“You brought him, yourself,” said Allico
in her own heart, looking rather hardly at
her husband, as lie toiled up the steep hill
that led to their house, panting shaking,
bnt refusing to acknowledge that he was
tired. “I had schooled myself to be con
tent, and with your own hand yon shat
tered all my good resolves. ”
“Let us stay here for a moment,” said
M*. Toft, “and admire this pleasant view.
Oh, I’m not tired —no, no—not at all; but
see the ship standing out to sea. She’s a
eapita! sailor, eh ? ah, yes.”
Her sails were spread out far in the dis
tance, rosy with the beams of the setting
sun, but a chilly mist was creaping up,
and presently the glow vanished and the
white sails were blotted out, disappearing
in the great vague world of mist and sea
and shadow.
“Why, what’s tlic matter, Alice ?” said
Mr. Toft turning sharply round. “Tears!
Ah, well, yes, yes, we know—a little hys
terical, eh ? Don’t excite yourself, dear
est. My dear poppets we will walk home
very quietly, and then we will have tea in
our nest. ”
She followed her lord and master slowly
up the hill to their home on Lookout hill,
it was a pleasent little villa with a fine
garden.
Things went on quietly enough at Look
outville for another couple of years. Mrs.
Toft had not been blessed by children, its
Richard had hoped, and the old man was
a good deal crestfallen thereat; still he
lived in hope, and seemed fonder than
ever of his young wife. By and by the
rumor went about that he had sent for
Lawyer Emlyn to make his will—be had
always been very stubborn against making
wills; and presently, when Mrs. Emlyn
toiled up Lookout hill to visit Mrs. Tolt, —
the Emlyns had never visited before at
that house, —and sometime after invited
her to spend a quiet evening in the High
street, everybody surmised how the will
was made, and judged that the property
disposed of was not inconsiderable.
Meantime, the Peru via, the good ship
that had sailed away that fine summer’s
evening, hail been heard of more than
once. She had not been spoken, however,
later than the last October, when she had
VOL. I.
I left Kumohee with the northeast monsoon
J for the Red sea, intending to come home
’by Suez and the Mediterranean. Any day
! she might return, any day might witness
William Black striding up Lookout hill;
any one of the white-winged ships that
dotted the horizon might bo the ship
that heart-sore Alice was longing to
see. He had been very good; he had not
written to her sister—she had forbidden
him to do so, and he had obeyed her; and
y*t if he knew how she longed to hear he
was safe—after all, it was better not.
Mr. Toft was breaking a little, people
said. He was no longer us active as ho
bad been only a short year since. He
rarely came down into the town now, and
! when he did it was pitiable to see him
j toiling back up the hill, making believe
j that tho ascent was not painful to him.
j He had been used to conic each morning
to the reading-room; hut now be had given
; that up, and had the 'linn s sent to him
, the next day after publication.
One summer evening—her husband had
! been poorly all day, and Alice had been
i constantly occupied in attending to him,
! but now ho had gone off to sleep—she put
ion her things and went down into the
I town to make a few purchases, intending
to spend half an hour w ith Mrs. Emlyn,
! to enjoy a gossip with that lively, convcr
j sible lady.
Down the hill she went, the cool sca
i breeze fanning her parched checks. The
: evening was divine, and the sea was
I stretched before her in long golden
I swathes, the murmur of it sounding gently
in her ears. Ships were stirring—some
: outward-bound were heaving at their nu
| chors, and the well-remembered sailor’s
! song came softly over the water; some
! homeward-bound were making for their
anchoring grounds, wiili full-bellied sails.
! She strained her eyes and fancied that now
! this and now that might be the long-ex
i peoted Pernvia. Bnt no, there could be
i no doubt then; her heart would tell her at
once, “That is William's ship I”
The sun was getting low, and she lias-
I toned quickly down the hill. The met
: sundry townspeople she knew by sight,
: and nodded to them a good-natured greet
ing; they turned and looked at her, and
| watched her down tho hill. “How rude
I people are getting,” she thought. “There
i was a time when these would all have
! touched their hats to the wife of the ship
: owner. ”
At each shop she visited alio noticed
j something strange about the people. Mr.
\ Meagre, the draper, came out of liis little
I box and stared ul her, and Mrs. Meagre’s
1 stony visage appeared over the glass door,
1 sternly regarding her. It was the same
lat tho other shops. Everybody looked
j queer.
“Imagination !" she told herself. “I
! feel altogether strange, and I find my own
; feelings reflected in other people's faces.
Here comes Mrs. Emlyn.”
Mrs. Emlyn came up to her, and looked
j at her with vacant, unrocoguizing gazo.
“Mrs. Emlyn,” she cried, “how fortu
: nab* l am to have met you
The lady gat,hired together her skirts
1 and passed coldly on.
“Oh, what have I done—what is the
matter ?” cried Alice. Hhe felt faint and
i giddy; something dreadful had happened.
■ The air grew heavy and .thick; all the
houses in the red, quaint High street
i seemed to blink at her. She was as if in
a dream, when the lust trumpet seems to
I sound, and tho universe quakes around.
■ But it was nothing; it could be nothing;
j Mrs. Emlyn was often queer.
But she turned round and made her way
j home. Her husband was awake ami
crying for her like a sick child. She
! could do nothing to-night, but in the
morning she would go down into the town
and get to the bottom of the mystery, it
it were a mystery, and not all a delusion.
Next morning Mr. Tolt was better
—much better; cheerful and chir
! rnpy. He had his breakfast in bml, how
ever, and Alice took it up to him. He was
| quite affectionate over liis feast, and loving
| over his eggs ; and by noon’ he was down
| stairs in the ; itting-room grumbling that
the Times hadn't tome.
“It is hero now, Richard,” said his wife,
j bringing him the great, broad sheet. She
| left him to his paper and went on her way
: about household matters. By and by she
j heard a strange sound in the pal lor as if
i somebody had fallen. She ran into the
! room ; jfr. Toft was on the floor in a heap
| against his easy chair. He had fallen into
■ a fit ; the paper was scrunched up in Iris
hand.
A strange pang shot through her. Grief,
! remorse, expectation, a flush of hope that
I would not be repressed. In n moment she
l was herself again. She laid him gently
along the floor, rang the hell violently for
J assistance, undid his neck-tie and the front
| of his shirt, chafed liis temples and hands.
! Servants came and she went off lor the doc
■ tor. She moistened his lips with brandy,
lb- revit i'll. -
Strangely he shrank away from her—
would not suffer her to touch him ; the
gardener had come in to help, and, with
his assistance, the old man made liis way
to his bed-room.
Alice w r as wounded and amazed ; but she
had heard of sick people suddenly taking
fancies against those they loved the host.—
j She went to the door to see if the doctor
j was coming. Mv. Emlyn, the lawyer, was
walking quickly up the hill, a newspaper
under his arm. lie looked sternly at l*r
i as be approached.
“I must see Mr. Toft,” he said, as he ;
reached the door.
“You can not see him ; he is very ill,”
said Alice.
Th window of Mr. Toft's room was
open, and he must have heard of Mr. Em
lyn’s voice.
“Show Mr. Emlyn up,” he cried in
: harsh, shrieking tones. “Come here, sir ;;
| come here !”
Mr. Emlyn pushed his way in, and up
the staircase; Alice was too frightened to
; forbid him. The gardener presently came
in for pens and ink, took them up to his
master, and then waited at the bottom of
| tho stairs.
“You had better go to your work again, i
Thomas,” said Alice ; “we can manage
without you now.”
“Master said I was to stay here.’’
She said nothing more, but went into the
sitting-room, and waited and watched in
dull, bewildered expectation. Then she
heard Mr. Emlyn’a voice.
‘ ‘Thomas, come up and bring one of your
fellow-servants.”
There was a trampling up stairs, and
then down ; after that Mr. Emlyn came
out of her husband’s room ; he left the
house forthwith, without speaking to Alice.
Then the doctor came ; he, too, was shown
up stairs. By and by he came down into
tho room where Alice was. He took her
kindly by the hand.
QUITMAN, It A., SATURDAY, MARCH 21, 1874.
“My dear Mrs. Toft, prepare yourself
for bad news.”
“Is he very ill ?",gasped Alice.
“Yos, very ill ; nay, ho is dead.”
After that the days passed like a dream
till the day of the funeral. She wished to
follow him to the grave—-for he had been
very good to her, she thought; and, now
that ho was gone, her mind misgave her
that she had been faithless to him, not in
deed, hut in heart but this was forbidden
by those who had tho management of af
fairs.
A relation of Mr. Toft had turned up, a
nephew, a lanky, raw-boned youth, with a
long neck and a tuft of red lmir on his
chin ; and this Ephraim Toft was the chief
mourner. Mr. Emlyn was also at tho fu
neral, and when they returned they went
into the parlor and drank wine, and after- j
ward sent for Mrs. Toft to hear tho will
read.
Ho was a solemn, courteous man, this i
Emlyn, with a full, resounding voice, and
he read out tho terms of the will distinctly
and sonorously. It, was difficult to sup
press a feeling of elation as ho rolled over
the list of Mr. Toft’s possessions, and end
ed with the clause that left his wife sole
legatee and executrix. How, through the
gloom of this day. bright vistas of the fu
ture gleamed and shone !
“Ahem ! there is n codicil,” said Mr.
Emlyn ; and bit by bit tho codicil undid
all that the will had done. The lanky neph
ew uncoiled himself, and glowered and
blinked with amazement and delight.—
There was but ono bequest to Alice—a
copy of The l imes of— Juno, of tho day
previous to the old man’s death.
They left her to herself for awhile, and
she tried to grasp what all this meant.—
The lawyer had politely handed to the
widow her legacy, a copy of the Tunes. —
What could it mean ?
Ah, yes, it was dreadful, this poverty,
after wealth had seemed within her grasp.
But still there was youth and hope ; and
William—yes, she might think of him now,
fully and freely. IShe carried no burden
of gratitude, she was free now, ami perhaps
William was close at hand. Well, she
would read this limes.
Presently slm clasped her hands toiler
forehead, and, with strained and horror
struck eyes, read this paragraph :
“Dkkf.uot at Ska.— A pathetic incident
is narrated by the muster of the steamship
Suez, just arrived at Liverpool. It appears,
that in the Indian ocean she met with a
disunited vessel, apparently abandoned by
the crew. A boat was sent to board her J
when the following sight met tho eyes of
the officers : The main and upper decks
had been swept clean by the sea, tho bull j
works were carried away, and evtrv vestige
of the spars and rigging. No living being
was found on board, but in tho captain’s
(jftbin wan the body of a young man with
golden hair and beard, much decomposed.
A letter was lying on the table, which was
brought away by the boat’s crew, and we
are requested to give it in full, as it may
lead to the identification of the ship :
“Deanst Alice : How often have 111 ought
of our last parting, and longed once more
to clasp you in mv aims ! Hove like ours
is never to bo parted, let the Sulky old cen
tenarian do as i," please. I write, to you
at your sister’s, as you desired me, No. 19
Bond street, Melford ltegis. How well I
remember the happy hours we have, spent
there 1 I am in command of the slop now.
Tho rest of the letter is illegible, except
the words, ‘Come to me, your loving Wil
liam Blank.’ The body was sunk in the
sea, the vessel left to its fate, and the
steamer continued her course.”
That night, as the sun was setting, light
ing up with golden flames the broad estua
ry of Melford, the tide was at its full, and
white-winged ships were floating in upon
its bosom ; a young girl appeared on the
farthest extremity of the landing-stage,
and, poising herself for a moment, and
taking a last, long look at all tho beautiful
scene around, cast herself into the waters,
which closed around her with a sullen rip-1
pie. Once, and once again, a white arm
was seen at the surface ; boats put out,
and men with ropes shouted and gesticula
ted from the shore ; but it was of no use,
the sea claimed its own, nml still hoards in
its hidden treasury the hones of William
and Ailico.
Pom's Sister —For many years the an
nouncement, “A sister of Edgar A. Poe
is living at Baltimore, in great destitut
tion,” has appeared in the exchanges at
irregular interval. The Baltimore Gaeatte
has conferred a boon upon newspaper
readers in supplementing the old time
paragraph with the following;
“Rev. George W. Powell, pastor of the
Universalist church, delivered to Mb
Rosalie M. Poe, the aged and helpless sis
ter of Maryland’s brilliant poet, Edgar A.
Poe, the sum of ;>46 35, tho net proceeds
of his lecture recently delivered for her
benefit, entitled “A Warning Voice from
the grave of Edgar A. Poe.” The feeble
If in t. rros of warm
gratitude, but spoke gloomily of her fu
ture.”
Oldest Timber in the World.
Probably the oldest timber in tho world
which has been subjected to the use of
man is that which is found in the ancient
temples of Egypt. It is found in connec
tion with stone work which is know to he
at least four thousand years old. This
wood, and tho only wood used in tho con
struction of temple, is in the form of ties,
holding tho end of one .stone to another
in its upper surface. When two blocks
were laid in place, then it appears that an
excavation about, an inch deep was made
in each block, into which and hour-glass
shaped tie was driven. It is therefore
very difficult to force any stone from its
position. The ties appear to have been
the tamarisk orshittim wood, of which the
ark was constructed, a sacred tree in an
cient Egypt, and now very rarely found in
the valley of the Nile. Those dovetailed
ties are just as sound now as on the day of
their insertion. Although fuel is extremely
scarce in that country, those bits of wood |
are not large enuogli to make it an object
with the Arabs to heave off layer after
layer of heavy stone for so small a prize.
Had they been of bronze half of the old
temples would have been destroyed years
ago, so precious would they have been for
various purposes.
Counterfeit Nickles. — Dnringlast year
the City ltn-ilroad Company, of New Or
leans, received in the Siawson boxes in
their cars, forty-seven thousand counterfeit
(uickel) five cent pieces, making an aver
age of counterfeit money paid to the com
pany of six dollars per day, sufficient to
purchase feed for twenty horses. The ten
other .companies in New Orleans were re
cipients of a large amount of bogus coin.
Cat.
No doubt, my dear reader, you know
what cats arc, and, presuming as much,
1 1 will not waste time in describing their
j personnel generally, but will try to tell
you sumo sports which our domesticated
i feline indulges in to distract us, and
amuse himself. Tom—our cat-—is a dig
i nified cat, and, never condescends to do
anything mean or little; so when neigh
bor Smith’s cat came into our yard to in
spect the baking- -which was placed on
benches near the oven—Tom considered
his dignity insulted, and, immediately de
clared war entile'livadcr of his dominions.
Smith's cat saw “tho cloud above the
horizon,” but, ho being about two pounds
heavier than Tom, did not retreat, hut
; entrenched himself behind a pan of dough,
! and awaited the onset of the warlike Tom.
Thomas began the attack with an eitr
i splitting yell, and a magnificent bound,
| and landed on the back of Smith’s cat,
and, oh ! didn’t the tar fly ? it flew fur
ther. But Smith’s cat being the larger
did not tolerate this very long, and
consequently Tom was- made painfully
aware of tiro fact that part of liin nose
was amputated. “Oh, that was a squall,
my countrymen 1” Then Tom’s angry
passions rose- his feelings were hurt, and,
with a vigorous stroke of his pnw he
upset liis adversary, and tore off his
right car, and scratched his head, and
ere Smith's cat could gain his reposure.
Tom had “covered himself with glory,”
and the bread with fur and blood. This
was too much for Smith’s cut to stand,
and rising in all his majesty, and part of
our bread, lie "went for” Thomas and
came very near making a funeral of
him; but he made a mistake, a serious
mistake, be noticed tlic adhesive quali
ties of the dough, and thinking ho could
maintain a good position there, lie planted
himself firmly in tho middle of it, and
thus placed himself hors Uu combat. Tom
in the meantime prepared to renew the
strife; ho approached hia enemy and
smote him on the right cheek, and also
on the left, tlieii he began to smito and
bite in real good earnest, and every stroke
brought a yell and ft cloud of fur from
his enemy. Of course Smith's cut bore
it, audit was easily seen that it began to
bore him terribly; but Tom did not cease;
he saw liis advantage and improved it to
its fullest extent, he pulled hair, bit and
scratched, tugged and palled, until his
own strength was totally gone, then lie
rested from his labors, but ho soon re
opened the campaign, until I persuaded
him, thro’ the gentle influence of a red
out poker, to desist. 1 looked with as
tonishment on the damage ho had done
to Smith's cat; it’s head and buck hud en
tirely disappeared, and its four legs were
left sticking in tho dough, which to it had
proved most doiighloritie- dolorific- it
was dead. Dead in the bread; no kind
mother to lift up its head, and no head to
hold up either; but its tail was there in
the yard. I turned and went into tho
kitchen determined to be revenged on
Tom for the dettfiU of Smith's cat; I found
him curled up under the stove looking so
innocent and Vairn. Getting a broom
stick 1 approached stealthily until within
reach of him, then I drew back aud struck
a quick blow, knocking down a looking
glass but jinisiiing tho cat altogether. I
struck again and missed, caught my foot
against the table, overturning it and spill
ing all the. glass-ware, dishes, &e., on the
floor, making a general “smash-up.” Tom
started for the cellar, ami J started too,
but someone had placed a scuttle of ashes
on the landing, and J tripped and reached
the bottom almost us soon as Tom did.
This ended my interest in Smith’s oat.—
Danbury Heirs.
4.--
A station in a Memphis Printing
(iffice
Tho Appeal composing-room afforded a
i notable event in typographical circles in
I this city Saturday and last night, being
that of a lady compositor “working at the
ease”—the first instance of the kind that
ever occurred in Memphis—indeed, it is a
very ra!‘o occurrence that women arc seen
working at tho printing business, except
in some subordinate capacity in the South.
Tho event alluded io v,a.s the theme of
conversation among the craft yesterday,
and as far as we could learn, seemed to be
regarded in no other than a favorable light.
This is quite a change in the sentiment of
the craft toward women compositors, as
previous to the war, one of the clauses in
the constitution of the International Ty
pographical Union positively forbade the
encouragement or employment of tho fair
sex in the printing business. This objec
tionable clause however, has been expun
ged, and, wo believe women compositors
are received into membership in all cities
where Typographical Unions exist, and,
when competent, arc permitted to work;
and, lie it said to the credit of tho typo
graphical fraternity, receive tho same pay
ns initio compositors. Tho lady engaged
on the Appeal proved by her work that
she is an excellent compositor, thoroughly j
an fail in all that pertains to the art, and, !
to use a phrase peculiar to tlic composing-;
room, “held her own" equal to the most l
expert of the opposite sex. She is u mar
ried lady, her husband also being a com
positor. She “served her time” princi
pally in Chicago, and “mid cases” at one
time in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where also
she was I ho first lady compositor who ever
worked in that city. Tho lady canto to
this city, in company ,with her husband,
about three months ago—he working
regularly on the Appeal, hilt she, prefer
ring “all day work,” applied at the book |
arid weekly newspaper offices for work, j
failing in which, she went to work in aj
millinery or dressmaking establishment,
and struggled along with the exceedingly
low wages, until she concluded to brave
the com-pieuity necessarily attending
night-work, and applied for and obtained
work on the Appeal, with the result as
above stated. Briuters are, by those who j
know them least, regarded as a hard set of:
fellows. If those who entertained such I
opinions could have witnessed the respect \
paid this lady during her hours of work, j
they would have been thoroughly eon- i
vincod to tho contrary. In fact, the priu-1
tors express themselves highly pleased
with the elevating association. — Memphis
A I ppcal.
Martin Luther was horn in Eisleben,
Saxony, November 10, 1483, and died in
the same place February 18, 1546. The
house in which he was bom is still standing
as also the church from which lie was bu
ried. An associotion has been formed in
Germany for the purpose of erecting a
monument io his memory in the old town
and a letter from Dr. Dorner to Dr. of
Courade, of Philadelphia, calls the atten
tion of Lutherans in this country to the j
effort, ali i invites their participation in it. |
Cause of Mr. Sumner’s Death.
Whatever the proximate cause of Mr.
Sumner's death may be, it, js certain, says
the Louisville Journal, that the attack of
Mr. Brooks upon him had nothing to do
with it. It is simply the familiar story of
hearty and full living, severe habits of
study, and a sedentary life, without a par
ticle of exercise. In tho summer season
Mr. dimmer occasionally rode in a carri
age, but never Walked or rode on horse
back, nor did he take any out door exer
cise. He went to the Capitol in a street
car, and returned the same way. The
wonder is that, with such habits, lie sur
vived so long as lie did ; but, as lio once
Stated to ail old friend, ho had n perfect
digestion and physical organization.
There can be no doubt that his death
was accelerated by tho wounded feeling
aud disappointment on trading himself re
pudiated and denounced by liis own party,
after helping to build it up, and also by
the negroes, nml that even in Massachu
setts, the I’refmlent, for whom ho had a
hearty contempt, was stronger than him
telf.
A CLOSE STUDENT.
Mr. Sumner was a close and constant
student. Though a capital off-hand de
bater, he usually prepared his speeches
with the greatest core and pains. His life
was divided between liis library and the
Senate Chamber. Ho never went to
amusements or lectures, or to parties, lev
ees or receptions. Sometimes, but very
rarely, ho. went out to dinner. Ho had a
number of friends who habitually visited
him, and to these as well as strangers he
was especially courteous and hospitable,
carefully avoiding anything in uttering his
own political views which might give of
fense.
IIIS PERSONAL kSIUNM.
Among his special personal friends were
Longfellow, Whittier, Wendell Phillips,
Carl Schurz, Senator Fenton, Montgomery
Blair, Caleb Cushing, the Marquis De
Chambnrn, Air. Boutwell, Mr. Hooper,
and most of the Massachusetts delegation,
Ben Butler being a notable exception.—
Rdcent political events had severed Air.
Sumner’s friendship with many prominent,
representatives in Congress ; and, on the
other hand, cordial relations had grown up
with a number of such Democratic Sena
tors as Thurman, Bayard, Casserly, Stock
ton, and others. For Afr. Bayard he fre
quently expressed the warmest admiration
to gentlemen of the press.
HIS PEII3ONAL HABITS.
Air. Sumner was unusually accessible,
courteous, and communicative, given his
own views with the utmost frankness.—
No man was more keenly solicitous to
know all important political events or
movements in progress. Air. Sunnier was
connected with no church, and, if he had
any special religious views, your corres
pondent never heard them expressed.
THE PUBLIC PEELING.
The Senate adjourned promptly this
morning on hearing of Air Sumner's dy
ing condition ; but the House of Repre
sentatives continued its routine business
until about three p. m., when speaker
Blaine read a dispatch announcing Mr.
Sumner’s death. But all during the day
the approaching dissolution of the distin
guished public man formed tho almost uni
versal topic of conversation at the Capi
tol, and every detail of his situation was
eagerly sought after. It in presumed that
the announcement of the decease will be
made in both houses to-morrow, and ap
propriate eulogies pronounced ; but what
other older will be taken is not known at
this writing.
PLUCK.
Wla< a Man will! n Will nni! n Wooden
!/<■§ Can no.
A man named John Crib, a citizen of
Jones county, at tho breaking out of the
war went into the Confederate service and
served ill Col. Wart,hen's regiment until
the 13th of December, 18(52, when he was
wounded at the battle of Fredericksburg.
He was sent to a hospital at Richmond,
where his leg was amputated. When lie
had recovered sufficiently to consider him
self out of danger ho came home. After
ho had arrived at borne, unfortunately for
him, gangieen sot in and a re-amputation
of the limb became necessaiy. The oper
ation was performed and finally he recov
ered. A few days ago, Air. Crib was in
Macon, and while here gave substantially
the following account of himself;
He was a poor man. After he had re
covered from liis wound aud for some
time after the war he supported himself
making aud mending shoes; but. for tho
last few years he has been fanning. He
managed to purchase a wooden leg, but it
did him no good. He knocked it to pieces
and mad . a leg which he could use. With
out entering into any details of his expe
rience iu farming, we will give tho result
in a few words. It must be remembered
that he began without means and with a
wooden leg, and lie lias hired no hands.
He now owns a hundred and thirty acres
of land in Twiggs county. He raised corn
and potatoes enough to do him, and some
six or eight bales of cotton. He has two.
horses and what farming implements lie
needs, all of which are paid for also. He
is in debt to no one. He does not know
what a crop lien is. What he raises is his
own, and lie is on a better footing—des
pite his w ooden leg—than many who star
ted out with til,* most favorable pros
pects of making fortunes.
We commend this brief but true narra
tive to the farmers of Georgia who are j
groaning under oppession of factors’ liens.
It is a lesson to them by which they may
profit. This man needs no granges to
protect him in his labors. He sows and he
reaps. The crop is his own. He gathers
it—subsists upon it, and is happy. He is
more independent than the planter who
can make a draft for §IO,OOO. —Macon
Telegraph.
Two neighbors had a long and enven
omed litigation about a spring, which
they both claimed. The Judge wearied
out with the case, at last said: “What is j
tho use of making such a fuss about a lit- ]
tie water ?” “Your Honor will see the use j
of it,” replied one of ties lawyers, “when j
I inform you that the parties- are both
milkmen 1”
A country editor, waxing eloquent in
the description of anew organ, says:
“The swell died away in delicious suffoca
tion, like one singing a sweet song under
tho bed clothes.”
I From t)i" Hmitliurn Christian Advocate.]
Ministerial Profanity.
1 am much pleased with your editorial
on the subject of profanity, and with no
part of it more tlmn with that which refers
I to the apparently irreverent practice of
j preachers themselves, in using with so
I much repetition tho name of tho Divine
Being.
Really, 1 have been shocked by the
habit of some ministers who seem to use
the name of God as a jkind of expletive. I
am sure no irroverntico is intended, but
tho effect is certainly bad, and the practice
exceedingly reprehensible. When the
nameof the Divine Being is bandied about
in such a manner, and that too from the
sacred desk, it must tend to deminish those
feelings of reverence on the part of congre
gations, which should be sedulously culti
vated by the example as well as the pre
cepts of the pulpit. This habit, no doubt,
unintentionally but unfortunately con
tracted, is decidedly demoralizing—shall
T not say sinful ?
“Thou shalt not take the name of the
Lord thy God in vain !’’
1 have observed that this very objec
tionable practice prevails in our church
more than in other churches, ji specially the
Presbyterian. Wo hold (lootriually, per
haps, a closer experimental nearness of
approach to God thiol some others do, but
how great would be the abuse of it, should
we allow ourselves to fall into a loose, un
becoming familiarity, in the use of the
Divine Name. We have preachers high
in reputation as well as high in office, who,
f humbly conceive, do not set a proper ex
ample iu this respect. For a long time I
have felt tho necessity of admonition in
order to the removal of this reproach.
It may sound strangely, and appear in
credible, but 1 have known, in a single
sermon, the Divine name repeated not less
than fifty times, speaking moderately.
The case was so marked on one occasion
that 1 was prompted to count, and begin
ning after the sermon had proceeded about
inh -third of the time, 1 counted, during
the remaining two-thirds thirty-six repo- j
titions of it, in tile several forms of God.
Lord God, etc. Now, this is wrong. H
not by carelessness, or intention, winch I
do not impute, yet certainly in someway j
it does contain the element of disregard
of the Divine command, “Thou shalt not
take the name of the Lord thy God iu
vain.” Useless, needless, and too fre- j
quent repetition of it must be a violation
of the command.
1 would not extend remarks on this pain
ful subject, but conclude by asking the
prayerful attention and meditation of
ministers and members ;o tliis subject. Is
there not among us a culpable want of rev
erence in using the name of God too fre
quently V
Layman.
Kalonton, February 26, 1.874.
[From tlic Danbury News.J
A Noble Old Lady.
Ono of bur citizens went home the other
evening complaining of a pain in liis hack
aud a dizziness in his head, and there is
no telling what the consequences would
have been if liis mothing-iu-law had nut.
been there at the time. Shi* unhesitating
ly pronounced the disease Cerobro Spinal
ALningietiS, sent him to bed at once, arid
.set about relieving his Bufferings. She ap
plied a square foot of blister-plaster to Ins
back, and one of the same dimensions to
tho opposite side of his anatomy. Then
she prepared and applied a mustard plas
ter to the back of his neck, aud adminis
tered a half-pint of brandy and pepper in
ternally, to produce a perspiration she said.
But the patient didn’t improve under this
treatment, so the noble old lady decided
that he needed an emetic, and gave him a
half-ounce of ipecac. The result of this
experiment was all that could lie desired
in the way of an emetic. Under its reviv
ing influence the patient forgot that he had
ever had a pain in his back or a dizziness
in his head- in fact, he forgot everything
for the timo being, except his stomach,
lint lie manifested a very intense interest
in that organ, and devoted liis time and
attention to it exclusively fora couple of j
hours, while the old lady stood by and !
held his head in the proper position, and |
comforted him with many assurances of a i
speedy recovery. The old lady was amaz- ]
cd to find that the small amount of brandy
that she had administered had expanded
into something near a quart of the genu
ine article ; but she reserved the discussion
of this subject for a future occasion.
The minister, having heard of our
friend’s illness, called in to consult with
him about liis spiritual welfare; hilt the
patient’s mind was so deeply absorbed in
matters of a temporal nature that the min
iate r was unable to ascertain anything very
definite ns to his plans or prospects for the
future, in case he should die. it is true
ho mentioned the name of another world
several times during the eouversatou, lint
was always in connection with his mother
in law, ipecac or blister-plasters, and did
not afford much comfort to the anxious
minister.
Since his recovery, our friends has ex
pressed his opinions of mothers-in-law
quite freely, and has intimated to one or:
i woof Ids friends that his present intention 1
is never to marry another woman that has :
a mother, as it is impossible, he says, for j
hiui to take a few drinks with his friends |
with any degree of comfort, for fear of j
being put under the old lady’s treatment
for Aleningiotis when he goes home.
John Oliver.
- - 4.4-
Plainer Dressing’.
A gossiping New York correspondent,
describing some of the literary reunions
of the metropolis, notices that dress has
been one of the greatest obstacles to the
enjoyment of social life there. Party
dresses cost so much that thousands of
ladies, wives of professional and distin
guished men, could not think of coin-*
passing more than one or two, and they j
must be worn with their expensive aux- j
ilia lies upon every occasion. Com pet'- j
tion ran so high in the matter of display
that it became impossible to send out in
vitations for early and quiet evenings.
The Brooklyn Women’s Club, whose as
semblages comprise the intelligence and
elite of that city, made the discovery that
the habit of wearing kid gloves was the j
bottom of the matter. They therefore J
banished, by resolution, kid gloves'from j
their receptions; and have since experi- 1
diced no difficulty. Gentlemen wear;
afteiraofin coats; ladies such prrtty and
sensible toilettes as they wear in the even
ing at home - the velvet, sleeveless jacket,
the lace ruffles, the tulle bow, with its
boutonniere embroidered scarf, adding
all t-lio finish required to tho plain silk or
euidnncro costume;
MISCELLANEOUS ITEM.
“Yoit don’t lore me, I know yon don’t,”
a id a young married lady to hor husband.
*, give you credit, my dear, Tor a keen
penetration," was the cons ding reply.
A young beau at his sisteFa fcvening
party began to sing, “Why am I so weak
ami weary” when a little brother brought
the performance to a sudden closo by
jelling out. “Aunt Mary says it’s be
cause you come home drunk every nightl”
A western minister told the young iadid
ofliis congregation that the first step to
ruin was an ostrich feather and n yard of
gay-colored ribbon. One of his hearers
having occasioned the next day to use
some ribbon, asked the clerk for “three
more steps to ruin.”
Two young men, out riding, wore pass
ing a farm-house, where a farmer was
trying to harness an obstinate mule.
"Won’t he draw?” asked one of tho
young men. “Of course,” said the farmer,
“he il draw the attention of every fool
I hat passes this way.” Tho young man
drove on.
At one of the Churches, hot long since,
there was a great revival going on, and
the altar was tilled with mourners. The
minister called upon ono of the ljrethern
to lend in prayer, hut the brother, from
unwillingness or incompeteney, responded:
"Let every man pray for himself—those
who can’t pray arc fools.”
“Hi I where did yea get tlietn trousers?”
asked an Irishman of a man who hap
pened to be passing with a remarkably
short pair tff thniaera Mi. , T got IhetM
where thev grew,” was tho indignant, re
ply. “Then, by mv conscience," seal
Faddy, “you’ve pulled them a year to
soou 1”
A few days ago a very handsomo young
lady entered a dry-goods house ami in
quired for a “bean.” The polite clerk
threw himself bark nnd remarked he w.w
at her service. “Yes but I want a buffiffffk
green one,” was the reply. The youii#
man went on measuring goods immediate*
>y-
A young lad fell into a mud-puddle off i
curl sfome in Detroit, the other day, a; A
he was howling and wailing, when * anoth
er boy came along and remarked :
“Humph ! J wouldn’t howl just because >
fell in the mild.” “That hain’t what J.’-”.
howling about,” blubbered the boy. '‘in
crying ’cause my brother is sick.”
Some travelers were visiting a cavern in
Smith America. While tho partv W'-re
within, investigating tho gloomy intern* •.
there was noticed an old negro standiyi*
outside, and ho was asked, “Say, unci’,
i why don’t you go in?” "Ah, de hela n
! help us,” said lie; “I see trouble enough
on top of do earth, and don’t want to gr<
into dat hole a searching arter misery:”
What sunshine is to flowers, rfhilpr, are
to humanity. They are but trifles to 1 (•'
sure, but scattered along life’s pathway tin*
good they do is inconceivable. A smih;
accompanied by a kind word has bee h
known to reclaim a poor outcast, ai
change tho whole career of aim man life.—
Let, us not, then, be to chary of them, bn l
scatter them freely as we go ; for life is too
short to be frowned away.
“Gentlemen,” said an active auctioneer,
who was selling a piece of land, “this is
the most delightful land. It is the easiest
laud to cultivate, it is so light, so very
light. Air. Parker will corroborate tho'
statement; he owns the next patch, and lio
will tell you how easy it is worked. ” “Yes,
gentlemen)” said Air. Parker, “it is very
easy to work, but it is a ploguey sight ea
sier to gather the crops.”
A gentleman who arrived in town a few
days since reports the temperance move
ment in the central part of the State verV
promising of good results. He was an nfe'
easiona) imbiber, but signed the pledge'
some three wet Its ago, at the solicitation of
t he lady crusaders, who cornered him in a r:n
loon just as he was partaking of something
for his stomach’s sake. That was his lust
encounter with John Barleycorn, but, in
relating the incident and describing tffff
surroundings, he dolefully remarks :
“That bright smile haunts mo still.”
From Spian.
Don Carlos to be Crown in King ■
Lav firm March 5.—A special dispatch t i
the Times from Bayonne Contains tho fol
lowing intelligence, obtained from Curb *
sources: “Don Oarios has announced tha£
it is not his intention to impose a contribu
tion upon the population of Bilbao when
that place is taken. On liis entrance t .
tho city he will proceed to the Cathedral
ami be crowned King of Spain. He wi’f
swear to support the liberties of the pi e -
ph , and will constitute government wiltf
(tenoral Lio as president of the Council.
An appeal will be made to the foreign
I powers to recognize the belligerency ■ f
the Carlisle. He will declare the Spa: -
I lards exempt from allegiance to any otln :'
j gorernment than his own. He will dr,-7
$5,000,000 as the first instalment of the
loan previously contracted.
BLOCKADE SUSI'ENDED.
Washington, March 7. — The Spnni.li
• Minister states that the proposed blockade
of tho coast of Cantabria is suspended for
tho present.
SIXTY-FIVE THOUSAND TROOI*S.
Alaorld, March 7.—-Sixty-five thonsnmf
troops are operating iu tho north against
Uio Carlists.
EnqliKh News.
London, March 13. — The Liberal jour'-
miL publish high eulogistic obituary no
tires of the late Charles Sumner.
The London Times of this morning in a
leading article says so long as Mr. Glad
stone remains in the House of Commons
he is the only possible leader of the oppo
sition. Every true Liberal will accept hit?
leadership on his own terms.
The Daily Heirs says Gladstone’s nnr*i %
isa tower of strength. The whole body ol*
Iliberals regard him as their natural head.
Any other person would only be the load
er of a section.
At a regular half yearly meeting of the
directors of the Bank of England, it was
announced that the total expense incurred
in the pursuit and prosecution of the tw<Y
Fid,wells and McDonald, the parties wild
committed frauds upon the bank, was
£46,000.
The Sanborn Job.— A Washington tel
egram to the New York Herald sovs:
“The Committee of Ways and Alenr.s
will continue the investigation of tho
moiety question for some days yet, as
they are now determined to sift the mat -
ter to the very bottom. They have al
ready developed an amount of rascality
such ns the country had not dreamed of,
even m connection with the infamous de
tective business, and the attorneys for
the several boards of trade now here say
that all has not yet been told. The com
mittee of Ways and Means are already
thoroughly disgusted with the workings
of the law, and would he ready to-morrow
to recofiimoml its repeal on the evidence'
before them,, but they want to probe’
deeper yet and see how far the mi rettn
tile community has been held under ty
rannical terrorism by tho detentive special'
agents.”
NO. 40.