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GALLAHER'S INDEPENDENT,
1 rtTTJLISHED VEJ*Y SATURDAY AT
QtJITMxVN, GA.,
•£; ~,4— by——.
J. c. GALLAHER.
* TERMS OP SUBSCRIPTION
TWO DOLLARS per Annum in Advance.
t, IaIFT HIM UP*
. Lying low in ilie jrnttor,
,Dcgr*<ljl iul black with nin.
With gamu*itH tattered and flltliy;
Xforn KhatUn .il and fool within.
Hlh face had grown aglv ami bmtal,
And tout in each trace divine;
The reign of liia paMioija hjad made him,
Companion alone ff>r the swlno.
. ■ “Hi*'* too far gone,” they tell up,
AD tfcfter whopaoa him hv;
R “Imp.iHKibhi now to reach hi in,”
Ho he in to aiuk aud die.
fie wap once *Snmel>ody , darling,”
That man ao drgradil and vile,”.
And h nrt of mime that loved him
\Ya* ouc made glad by hi* amile.
* r Thoae bpR that nrtw breathe hut eruahing,
* A motner a kiaft onre wmed.
And that hair, once sort and golden,
A Hisn r'h luind carcKned.
Those eve. now bleer and roulldh*,
Once lighted with love’s bright glow,
Amt the fire of the B<ul within them,
Burned with thought* that angola know.
,Lt tour tear drop* fall, of pity
Upop those darkened leaves,
Renting hvfre “DoKHihle all things,”
I All, “to him that ImlioveH.”
Friends of Temperance, this is your mission
Strong in Love’s power to save,
With a sympathy earnest, untiring,
<io; bring him up from the grave !
NOT IN VAIN.
, .. r _, •
Motherless from her earliest childhood,
Kitty Ross hud lived on the old farm with
her father and brothers, until she was oust!
ten. Then her father died, and the ys
decided to send her nway to school.
: knowing tliht tliev were themselves unable
to continue his wise uml gentle teaching.
In the neighboring city was a female col
lege, of envtnhh* reputation. The lady
principal had boon their mothers friend,
mid fti her care they confided their little I
sister.
,Six years of Rtudy stored her mind with
precious truths,but failed to tame her wild,
free spirits. Out of respect to the dignity
of “sweet sixteen” her brothers dropped |
the name of “Tom,” to Which she hail an- j
swered for so long, but she deserved it as
it as much as ever.
, Thanks to Mrs. Loring’s housewifely
real, she had learned much that was prac
tically useful,as well an intellectually valua
ble, but she preferred to employ her scis
aors iu cutting paper dolls for the children
to shaping garments for more substantial
personages; she would rather make fish- ;
books of her needle sthan use them in the j
-olil-fashioned, orthodox way.
Of all the senior class none was a greater
favorite with the junior members of the
school than Kitty Koss. Did it rain and
confine them to the house, the cry was for
Kitty to tell them a story, and seldom was
the request denied. Was there a frolic on
hand, Kitty was always a sinner iu the fun.
JStic wan prime mover in all the mischief
that went on, but usually escaped all but;
the most trifling punishment by tin- droll
in which she would come to confession, i
Hhe usually took the lion s share of the
blame, well knowing that no severe pen
alty would be attached to Act misdeeds.
Arid truth to tell, her mischief never caused
her to come unprepared to recitation, so
that it was the more excusable.
It was examination day at Luring Col- ]
lege, and great was the excitement among
the pupils, more especially the senior class.
But it was too late now for rehearsals, too
late for reviews, it was now time, to put
their year’s work to the proof.
The senior slass was called for composi
tion. Pencils and paper were furnished
them, and Professor Luring turned and
asked the examining committee to name
the subjects. One after another was given,
till only Kitty Boss was misapplied. The :
committee seemed to have exhausted their .
stock of subjects. Turning in his quick,
. nervous way to a gentleman in the uudi- j
once, he said:
“Dr. Calvert, will you he kind enough
to give Miss Boss a subject?”
“Hands,” suggested the doctor, raising
his eyes from the study of the slender,
dainty hands demurely folded in Kitty’s
lap.
She gave him an odd, quick glance,
then dropped her eyes to her paper. For
fifteen minutes the room was still, save for
the subdued whisperings of the audience,
the scratching of the busy pencils, and an
occasional long-drawn “oh dear from
some fair writer who tried iu viau to collect
her scattered wits. .
“Time is up, young ladies,” announced
tha professor, glancing at his watch. The
last name called was Kitty' Ross, and with
burning checks, but clear, though tremu
lous voice, she read:
“hands"
“A baby's dimpled baud; the they tiny,
rosy fingers clasped closely in its mother's,
or softly patting her cheek, or playing
with her shining hair.
“A ehild’s hand;, everywhere that it
ought not to l>e, pulling everything out
of mother’s work-banket to find the scis
sors, snipping papers over Ifie floor, always
in mischief, yet who would lose it or its
oowner out of the bouse ?
■‘A woman’s soft, white hand; touching
here and there about the house; here ar
ranging and beautifying the household
. furniture, there playing the shining needle;
now smoothing, witlicool and gentle ton ;h,
the sufferer's fevered brow, then, in rue
hush of evening, gliding softly over the
piano keys, drawing forth sweet melody.
“ A man's strong hand, guiding the
atldy plow, or holding the throbbing en
gine-valve, or touching the magic spring
oJ the telegraph, or guildiug the mighty
pen, or wielding the flashing sword, all
over the world is its influence felt.
“Hands cold in death; ah Ino loving
pressure of yours can ever warm them into
life again. Tire waxen fingers are still and
cold as marble. Clasp them closely, press
them to your burning lips; vain are fill
your efforts, the ley coldness yields not to
the warmth of love. Fold them over the
pulseless breast, and put them away, ‘un
der the snowy daisies. ’
“The hand the great hand of God, con
trols and directs ail our lives, and when
.death loosens the clasp our loved ones’ An
gers, His tender hand reaches down and
flakes theirs, leads our dear ones up to
■■ heaven and Him."
The sweet voice ceased, and the gray
eyes flashed a swift timid glance at the
doctor, as if to ask if she had treated his
subject well.
Lolyd Calvert was twenty-eight, and had
peter yet found the wife that, according to
Tupper, was waiting for him somewhere
in-the universe. But fate had led him to
Ixiring College that bright .Tune day, and
and there he made a vow that, if over
(CalUiljcr’s 3ni>cpcni>mt.
VOL. I.
he married, little Kitty Boss should be
his wife.
A year and a half has drifted down the
stream of time, and Kit tv Boss is alone in
her little room at the old farm house, In her
bridal rolies, she stands by the winblow,
looking out on the old familiar scene that
Kitty AW will never see again. How
vividly every detail of the well-known pic
ture stands out; the far reaching meadows,
now “brown and bare,” the leafless trees,
the crooked lines of fence, the old mill
down yonder, the lißrn, with its loads of
fragrant hay. Fancy clothes the scene in
spring-time freshness, in summer’s rich
luxuriance, in autumn’s golden glow.
Over it drifts the snow, and around it is
the tender grape lent by the thought “For
the last time. ”
"A footsep in the room. Elliott Ross
comes in
“Come, little sister, they are waiting
for you.” There is a tell-tale quiver in his
quiet voice, aud Kitty turns sharply
round.
“Don’t you dare to cry at my wedding.
I won’t have any such nonsense.” Aud
then thorws both arms round her brother's
neck, and hursts iuto a passiouate fit of
crying.
“Kitty, be quiet,” There is uo quiver iu
Elliott’s voice uow, and Kitty obeys, from
sheer astonishment at the unwonted tone.
“Are my-eyes red ? ’ she asks iu her old
mauiier.
Yes; anil your nose too." is Elliott’s
comforting answer, at which Kitty threat
ens to box his ears, and then they' go
down.
But at the door of the room she stops a
mom.nt, and then, with her bright
face wearing an unusually garve expression,
she takes Lloyd Calvert’s arm.
She felt as if in a dream: the words of
the white-haired minister fell almost un
heeded on her ear, till Lloyd’s clear,
protnl “I will” sounded through tlic
room. Then for one instant her eyes met
his, aud when her turn came, it v is with
a voice almost as clear as his, tlmt she
promised to he him a “loving, faithful and
obedient wife.”
Madam Calvert sat in the pleasant, cosy
sitting-rhom, waiting for the coming of her
son and his bride. Ou the lug before the
tile, two little buys, aged seven and nine,
waited sleepily for the new aunt that un
cle Lloyd hint promised to bring them.
The clear-voiced clock on the mantel
struck nine, and Madam’s listening ear
caught the sound of wheels.
“Harry, Fred, wake up and see your
auntie,” and the drowsy urchins sat up
and rubbed tlieir eyes, insisting that they
were not sleepy, no, not a bit.
“Mother, 1 have brought you a daugh
ter,” and Lloyd Calvert stooped and kissed
his mother affectionately.
With stately courtesy, yet with some
what of u mother’s tenderness, she wel
comed her son’s wife, and then presented
Hurry and Fred, who had by this time
waked up to the interest of the occasion.
At the end of a week the boys pro
nounced Aunt Kitty “a brick.” She
joined gleefully ill their romps, mended
broken playthings, supplied them with
strings innumerable, and listened with
flattering attention to the recital of their
tribulations.
As the time passed on they discovered
that she had a knack of story telling, and
the insatiable little wretches never wearied
of listening to the quaint legends of fairy
lore, the marvelous stories of unseen
worlds beneath tho sea, of bensts and
birds, of trees and flowers. So telling
them of the wonders of earth anil air and
sea, she taught them to look up to the
mighty God as to a loving, tender father,
curing even for the fowls of the uir, liow
much more for “one of these little ones. ”
Madam Culvert classed Kitty and the
boys together as “the children,” and of
ten sighed to herself, “how could Lloyd
muiTV such a child V”
But Madam saw only tho form and
sparkle of tlm wuve-eroats, and dreamed
not of the countless pearls that lay be
neath. Under all her childish nonsense,
Kitty had “the tender heart of a woman
true,’’ full of truth and purity, and earnest
strivings after good. Only Lloyd knew
all the riches of her wayward nature; only
for him, did she wear with right royal
glace the star-gemmed “crown of her wo
manhood.’’
Down in the garden one Sunday after
noon, Kitty sat with Harry and Fred
perched in the branches of the gnarled old
apple tree.
“Aunt Kitty, please tell us a Sunday
story;” and she told them, the old, old
story of the Cross.
They saw not the man who stood with
out tho garden wall, listen.ng with such
feverish eagerness to the sweet, young
voice. Long years of sin had drawn
many lines upon the haggard face, but uh
he listened there rose before him faintly,
oh, how faintly, the vision of a fair, sweet
face, with tender eyes and gentle smile—
the face of the mother loved and lost so
many j-ears before. She lmd told him that
story, and his eyes grew dim with the un
accustomed tears as he heard it now.
Madam called; lightly as a squirrel Kitty
swung down from the twisted branches,
and the man without the wall stole silently
away, with the memory of her words lin
gering w itu him still. “Seed by the wav
side;” what was the soil into which it had
fallen ? “A word in season;” who could
tell its value 't
“Aunt Kitty, may wo come in ?" It
was a disconsolate little voice that made
the request, and two very forlorn little
faces that Kitty saw when she opened her
door. What ?>oys could plan a fishing
excursion for a week before hand, and not
feel forlorn when the day wuh ushered in
with heavy clonds and steady rain ? None
but the “good little Jameses” in the Sun
day-school books, and ‘ being possessed of
a fair share of human nature it genorul,
and boy nature in particular, Harry and
Fred were not very cheerful this morning.
Now they stood by the window Watch
ing the rain, while Kitty stitched away on
her machine.
Presently Harry drew a long sigh and
said “I wish we lived in the Desert of
Sahara ’canse it don’t ever rain oyer there
and we could go fishing , whenever we
wanted to.”
While Fred was meditating on the res
pective merits of the African desert and
the United States for a place of residence,
Harry turned away from the window and
said, in his most coaxing tone:
“Aunt Kitty, don’t you think a story
would help us to endure onr disappoint
ment Harry liked to imitate the
phrases of his elders.
Kitty laughed, and told them to let her
QUITMAN, GrA., SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1574.
think a minute, and she would tell them a
story about the rain.
“Wish the flood had used up all the
rain," said Hairy scowling at the leaden
skv.
Aunt Kitty, is this n true story ?’’ Fred
liked facta
“Yea, it is all true; now sit still and
listen.
THE BTOHY ABOUT THK RAIN.
“Away down in their beautiful ocean
home lived some little drops of water,
children of the grnnd old sea. Merrily
they used to rump together, uow playing
hide-and-seek among the twining sea
weeds, now resting in the coral groves
and now peeping inside the rosy sheds, to
kiss the white pearls sleeping there.
When they were tried to play, the mer
maids would come aud sing to them w on
drous stories of ocean mysteries, of the
strange lauds under the sea, and then the
drops would whisper them again to the
tinted sea shells, bidding them never for
get. And ever after, the shells would
murmur to themselves those ocean fairy
tales.
“One day some of these drops grew
weary of their homo in the sea, and longed
to see the bright, sun, of which the mer
maids had told them. So, w hen the next
current came past, they bade their sea
friends good-bye, and swiftly floated up
wardshigher and higher, till the
sunlight sent a shimmering, golden
radiance through the waters, thrilling the
drops with a strange delight. The quiv
ering glow brightened us they' neared the
surface, and when at last, a mighty wave
caught them, and tossed them upon high
they turned whito with fear and thou
laughed till the crest of the wave was a (
mass of dancing foam.
“How strange was the sight of the j
broad free ocean, to those dwellers of the
deep ! They saw the mighty ships freight
ed with the' wealth of nations; they saw
the great seabirds cleaving the air with
tlieir broad pinions; the tiney petrels
skimmed past them, and the fishes pushed
them aside with their cold fins.
“After awhile a tiny sunbeam came past,
and she kissed the drops so lovingly that
when she asked thorn to go home with her
they gladly consented; so she breath'd
gently upon them, and together they rose
into the air. Far tip above the sea, into
the blue ether, they glided, and they felt
themselves strangely altered; for now each
drop was a tiny, fairy-like maiden, clothed
in thick white viol of mist. Now the were
no longer drops of water, but ‘children of
j the mist.' That is wliat tlio sunbeams
i call t hem, hut their name on earth is
I ‘clouds. ’
“By day they floated idly in tlio air; now
and then their cousins, the storm-clouds,
1 would try to tempt them to some deed of
I mischief, but their friend sunbeam was
j ever near to keep them from yielding to
1 temptation.
“When the evening came, it was their
duty to attend King Sol to bed, and if the
old monarch had spent a pleasant day, he
would kiss the little maids good night,
1 making them blush rosy rod. Aud then
men would say, ‘What a beautiful sunset
there is to-night.’ But sometimes the old
King was in a had humor, anil on those
i evenings he would frown so darkly that,
tlio frightened clouds would hide away
, behind the black mantle of the night, and
then men said, ‘V, e shall have rain to
morrow.’
“At last one day the storm clouds por
suaded tho day clouds to join them in a
frolic. They took all the little sunbeams
that King Sol had sent out to warm the
earth and wrapped their long vails round
them, so that the sunbeams could not do
their work. When King Sol catno back
that evening, he asked the sunbeams how
the plants were growing. When they told
of the prank that had been played on them
the clouds were, so angry that they turned
quite black, and muttered loudly to each
other. Men looked up at the black masses,
and heard the limf tarings, and they said to
each other, ‘We shall have a tlinnder
storm.’ But they did not know all that
was happening tip yonder in the sky.
“The old King was very much displeased
with the mischievous clouds, and at once
dismissed them from his service, at which
they cried more loudly than ever, and
wept so hard that they melted quite away,
and fell down to the earth—down on the
thirsty plants that drank in eagerly the
soft, cool rain; but the plants never knew
how it happened to rain that day, and
neither would you arid I, if one of the
tears that the little cloud shed had not
fallen down into a little brill's nest, and
then told all about it. And what the little
bird told me I tell yon.”
“Aunt Kitty,” said little Fred, solemn
ly, “did a little bird tell you that, sure’
uough?”
“I’ speet," said Kitty, discreetly.
“When ?” persisted Fred, the literal.
“Once upon a time,” auswerd Kitty,
definitely.
Lloyd*Calvert’s fine intellect had been
highly cultivated, and Kitty regarded his
mental endowments w ith a respect border
ing ou reverence. Yet in another way
she was far his superior, and he could not
help feeling that, on the road heavenward,
his little wife was treading higher ground
than he. Slowly, but surely and steadily,
she had girded on the armor of the King,
and was bravely marching on. Her religi
on only made her more sunny and cheer
ful, and won, by her bright tenderness,
Harry and Fred put their little hands in
hers, and walked with her up the shining
path where the King had trod before them,
marking the way with His bleeding feet.
Long before her marriage Kitty knew
that she and Lloyd could not as yet “walk
heavenward hand in hand.” Yet she
joined her life with liis and waited, bravely
and patiently, for the glad time when they
should be together in this as in all else.
“For her sake, Lloyd usually refrained
from the irreverent remarks that he had
been in the habit of making, but farther
than this there was no indication that he
heeded her example in tho least. He was
moral, because he was too proud to do
that which he would have been ashamed
to tell his mother or his wife. Love for
them, not love for God, was the restrain
ing influence that held him back from sin.
A golden day in the autuniD time. Kitty
sat at her open window, now and then
looking up from her work to answor tho
merry shouts of the boys, who were play
ing in the yard below. Floating through
the window came the balmy breath of au
tumn, with its fragrant scent of fading
leaves, making Kitty think of her dear old
country home. The door opened sudden
ly, and Martha, Mrs. Calvert’s maid, said
in a seared tone of voice:
“Miss Kitty, please come down to old
missus. She’s Jia‘l a stroke. ’ ’
Down went Kitty's sowing, ns she hur
ried down to madam's room. One glance
lit, the rigid form and drawn features
showed her that Martini was not mistaken.
Once before sho hail seen paralysis, and
now the danger made her nervo herself to
meet it. Bidding one of the servants run
for a physician, she kept, Martha with her,
and quickly made use of the remedies
within her reach. In fifteen minutes the
physician came, and with him was Lloyd
himself.
Relieved from the responsibility, Kitty's
coolness deserted her, and she leaned faint
and whito against the window, dreamily
watching the quivering of the fading
leaves. How sharply every detail of the
picture defined itself ! Within, the large
room, scorning cold aud dreary, in spite of
the rich furniture and blazing fire, for - the
death angel’s whips shadowed it; the two
physicians by the hod, bending over the
distorto figure there, aud Martini standing
by, with her black face ashy white with
fear; without., the gi V.errOctobersunlight,
and the quivering, glowing leaves. Kitty
wondered if the leaves would tremble so
if -snd then she shuddered from head to
foot with a great fear.
The weeks that followed were long
and dreary, but when tlio yule-tide came, j
madam was lifted by her son’s strong mins ,
into the easy chair that henceforth would
bo her resting place, for the disease had
made her a cripple for life.
Very querulous and fretful she was in
those days, and many a time would Kitty j
long to rush to her own room for that wo
man’s comforter, ‘‘a good cry,” hut to the
invalid she was always sunny and pleasant,,
seemingly tireless in waiting oil her, and !
devising means to make the long, dull I
hours less tedious.
Those wore trying days for little Kitty,
for Lloyd was away from home all day,
and when lie coino home at night,, tired
with his day’s work among the sick anil
dying for his sake she put on a brave smile
anil never told him of the worry of tlio
day. But lie knew his mother well enough
to guess something of what Kitty had to
hear, and this made him wonder much at I
her patient cheerfulness. They spent j
| tlieir evenings together in their own room j
| for Minium retired early, and the boys
were raised on the old-fassioneil plan of
I “early to bed and early to rise.”
And was it to no purpose that this dis
| eipliuo was sent to Kitty ?
It was no fiery furnice of affliction that
she hod to pass through; there was
| nothing in her daily life to make her a
| heroine; she won no martyr’s crown by
any single act of sublime faith and hero
ism; she only did wliat so many women
round us are doing every day—bore
patiently and bravely the little trials, the
irijlimj cares and worries the liny “thorns
|iu the flesh.” And was it iu vain, this
| patient life of liers ? Was her example
without its effect ? If you would see the
golden harvest come once more to the old
farm-house.
In the wide, shady porch sits Madam
t’liDert in Inc iiivnljd’H eliair, and at Inn
feet Lloyd is lying, with both arms under
liis head, while lie alternately talks to his
; mother aud w atches his wife, who is seated
j in her old-fashion on the gate post, chat
ting merrily with her brother Elliott,
j Kitty, at twenty-five,, looks little older
l than she did at seventeen, are truly her
'• present attitude is not calculated to en
hance the matronly dignity of her appear
ance.
“Lloyd,” Madam says, “you don’t know
what a treasure your wife is.”
“Don’t I?” he asks, with a quiet smile.
“I think I do, mother."
“For all t hese years that I have been
helpless, she has nursed mo with all the
care and tenderness that my own daughter
could have shown.”
Lloyd smiles again in bis own quiet way.
“Mother do you remember a question
you asked me a few days after I brought
this ‘treasure’ home?”
Madam laughs.
“Yes ‘How could you marry such a
child ?” But you sec the ‘child’ was wiser
than wo, and she has taught us both, as
Fred, and Harry.”
Lloyd’s eyes soften and darken. Then,
with a quizzical look, lie asks:
Bo you are willing to admit that my wife
is good for something besides making mud
(lies, after all?”- Courritr-Jnnrnal.
It has long been regarded as strange by
the people of Tom’s River. Now Jersey,
that whenever there was a wreck on the
coast, and the vessel went to pieces, the
editor of the paper there always came out
next day with a clean shirt on. When
ever anybody asked him where he got it
from, he invariably said that a rich mint
of his had just, died up in Maine. The cir
cumstance occurred so often that the peo
ple began to think it was extraordinary
how many rich aunts the editor had in
Maine, and still more singular that so large
a portion of their wealth should have been
invented in shirts. Bo a magistrate called
on him to ascertain if ho had not been in
the habit of swiming Off shore snrreptiously
on dark nights, and pushing vessels
ashore in order to rob them of shirts.
The indignant editor relieved his anxiety
by removing his shirt bosom. It was
simply a piece of paper printed with a pen.
And now the people want to know how a
man can he trusted to form public opinion
when ho is guilty of such a base deception.
—♦♦♦
Mr. Norris had been called from home
suddenly and his stray had been protrac
ted beyond the expected time of return,
whereupon, as in such cases made and
provided, bis better half grieved, fearful
that some misfortune had overtaken him—
so great was her grief that a good neigh
bor called in to condole with and comfort
her—“My dear Mrs. Norris,” said she “do
content vourself, do you not know that
the good" God will care for hii* as well
when he is away as at home ? He will
bring him safely back and take good care
both of you and him.” “Oh,” said the
sobbing woman, 1 ‘only let him fetch him
horn e and I will lake core of him myself!"
A Chronic investigator says he form
ed the habit of prying into other people’s
affairs early in life, when he was an ap
prentice to an oculist in the extreme west.
The country was sparsely settled, tho peo
ple uncouth, and the habit of “gouging”
one of the diversions of the inhabitants.
His employer united with his profession
al duties tho occupation of a tinsmith,
and made a cheap representation of the
natural optic from tin, which was neatly
painted to represent the real eye. The
principal duty of the apprentice was to ad
just these artificial members, and that’s
how he first got to screwtin-eyes-in !
Lovely flowers are the smiles of God’s
goodness.
The Arkansas Rebellion.
The following history of the political
disorders in Arkansas, which have culmi
nated in open rebellion aud political an
archy, is given by the New York ftveiiiity
Post, a Liberal Republican journal:
Arkansas is one of the Southern States
whose political record has an unsavory fla
vor. It, was reconstructed after the war
uuder the notorious “carpet-bag’ rule of
Powell Clayton, Judge McClure, the ltev.
Joseph Brooks, and a long lino of inferior
political speculators, equally incompetent,
but less notorious because they were less
ambitious of “honors” than of perquisites.
Clayton became Governor; Brooks was in
the lino of succession by an election ns
President of the Senate; and McClure has
served his faction well as Chief Justice of
the State Supreme Court. These worthies
lmd about as much afleotion tor the prin
ciples that gave rise to tlio Republican
party na Tweed lmd for Democratic prin
ciples; but they saw a good field lying
fallow and ready for cultivation under the
favor of tlio adininistnitiou, Jiiul no tne t y
called themselves Republicans, The elec
tion laws, the legislative apportionment,
and all the machinery of the State were
accordingly so regulated by them that iu
spite of the actual majorities the State
should be counted Republican.
In the course of time there was a falling
out between the factions. Mr. Clayton
hail long coveted a sent, in the United
States Senate, and for his purpose the
Legislature was “packed. lie was
elected; lint Air. Brooks was not, gratified
with his own share of promotion and pe
cuniary consideration, and from that time
tlio “carpet-bag" family was no longer
happy. Clayton and McClure have
worked lovingly together, the Chief Jus
tice’s decisions, by a queer freak of chance
always tallying with the views and inter
ests of the senatorial leader and the ruling
faction. Brooks set up for himself. In
JH72 he became the Liberal candidate for
Governor, and Was supported by the
Democrats. The coalition was so strong
that McClure and Clayton took fright, and
for once resolved to he as decent as possi
ble. They went outside of tlieir little
corporation, and nominated Judge Elisha
Baxter for Governor. Judge Baxter’s
reputation was good, and his nomination
by a political,convention in Arkansas wins
one of tlio wonders of the age. He was
declared elected; but the fact, undoubtedly
was that Brooks had more votes. Judge
Baxter refused to have any controversy
about the result, but awaited the canvass
of the character of which was looked after
carefully by Clayton and McClure. Judge
Baxter was inaugurated; and, a contest
appearing to be hopeless, Brooks quietly
withdrew.
Thus tho affairs of the State promised
to run along smoothly. It was not long,
however, before the new Governor began
to show signs of independence. The
Legislature which Clayton and McClure
bad elected entered upon a course of job
bery characteristic of the reconstructed
State governments, and Governor Baxter
promptly put his foot upon them. YVhat
could the cabal do under such circum
stances ? 'They wanted money; they
wanted new election regulations to insure
( heir future success; and lierq was their
own Governor vetoing their own measures.
Suddenly they discovered that there were
irregularities in the lute election which
they had confirmed; and they opened ne
gotiations with Brooks, who, under the
now order of things, saw some hope of
success, lie applied to the Supreme Court
of the. State about a year ago, but that
tribunal concluded that, tho Legislature
having canvassed the returns and decided
in favor of Baxter, it had no jurisdiction.
Let ns not forget to mention that Chief
Justice McClure dissented from this opin
ion. Another effort was made last fall to
remove Governor Baxter, but with no bet
ter success and after that it was thought
the contest would be dropped.
The .affair has several curious aspects,
which would be laughable were they uot
shameful. It must be admitted that Gov
ernor Baxter was not legally entitled to the
office, tint was counted in by fraud; and
vet he is the only man in the quarrel whose
character is entitled to any respectful con
sideration. The contest between Brooks
and the Clayton-McClure party in 1872
was of the most bitter and personal char
acter; and yet Brooks’ only hope of suc
cess now comes from the support of those
who were his enemies in that campaign.
The Democrats, who claimed in 1873 that
Brooks should be inaugurated instead of
Baxter, are largely supporting Baxter.
Altogether, things are “a good deal
mixed;” and if persons arc not careful to
study these complicated political relations,
as the contest waxes warmer, they may lie
applauding or denouncing the wrong
party, as “a matter of routine,” to adopt
the language of tho Treasury. The quar
rel is a fair representation of the slehdor
foundation of the present division of po
litical parties.
An Enterprising Convict.
John Short, the prisoner who ran a whis
key still in Sing-Sing prison, says he earned
fifty dollars a day with tho original still,
which he worked with some small lamps for
a wholp year, until “blown” on by an
other convict, to whom he refused credit.
Of course, an officer of the prison was a
partner. At the same time they made
large profits on smuggled groceries, to
bacco and cigars,estimated at 1,000 percent.
The keeper who was able to build a four
story house with his share. Subsequent
ly a small copper still and some worms
were smuggled into the prison, and set up
in an outhouse where gunpowder and
nitro-glyeerine for blasting rocks are
stored, and though well watched, and once
locked up in a dark coll on suspicion,
Short had 50,443 when he left the prison,
all mado out of the whiskey trade—for his
stock of groceries was found and seized,
and eventually netted a loss —tho keener
and other confederates having received a
still larger sum. Short says he could
have escaped any time, but didn’t want to
leave whilo making a hundred dollars a
week. Ho had no difficulty in getting all
the barley lie wanted, as largo quanti
ties were nsed in the soup houses, and the
steamboat brings tip numerous bags full
every week. It was easy to rip a hole in a
bag and fill his pails. Ho used two largo
wash tubs belonging to the prison to make
a mash in. Before he was discharged lie
sold the business to another convict, who
is now making whiskey, and who ought
to make $20,000 before his time is up.—
Ex.
One hundred arul twenty newspapers
and periodicals have been suppressed in
France siuce MaeSlahon became president.
NO. 51.
Stowed Away In Barrels.
A Cuban gentleman, who arrived in j
New York Saturday, (.ives the following
remarkable account of his escape from the I
hands of the Spaniards iu the city of Ho-I
vaiia:
Lust mouth he was drafted into the army !
under the new conscription law, and, to
gether with some three hundred others, |
all Cubans, were confined in the barracks I
known as the Cuurtel de la Fuerzn, iu the
Plaza do Armas, iu the city of Havium.
Within a lew days they were to he sent to
the front to fight against their fellow coun
trymen, and although the chances were
desperate, some of them determined to ef
fect their escape. In order to gain com
munication with their friends outside they
began to study the disposition of the sen
tinels who were put over them. Among
these was one who was foml of his “ugua- ,
dieute,” and the conspirators gave him I
many little presents to buy liquor to se- j
cure hia favor. .They begun by asking
him to let two or three go out for a walk, !
anil were always prompt in tlieir return at |
tile hour agreed upon. Then they spoke
to a Catalan about, getting away from the
island.
At last they learned that on a certain I
day a steamer would sail for u port iu the
United States and the Catalan agreed to
put them on board. At eight o’clock that,
night the favorite sentinel was on post, !
aiid they asked permission to take an air- j
ing. It was granted, and thirteen of them |
were allowed to pass out under a promise |
to return at ten o’clock, in time for roll
call. As soon as they found themselves in i
the. street each went to his home. Then, |
according to appointment, they met in the
Catalan in a coffee-house. He conveyed |
them, in parties of three and four at a j
time, to the steamer. When they were all j
on board they paid him -vliat they had I
agreed upon, $235 in currency each. The
captain of thesteiuner then informed them
tlmt as he was exposed to a fine of SSOO for
every passenger found on board without a |
passport, ho would have to charge them |
S6B in gotil apiece, and that they would
have to promise to submit to any precau-1
tionary measure he should see tit to adopt, j
This they agreed to, and the captain said,
“Now, gentlemen, you w ill have to get into
barrels and be headed up and put with the
rest of the cargo.” Thirteen Hour barrels,
filled with oranges, were then emptied and j
the CubiinN got into them; theheadsof the
barrels were then replaced and secured,
and they were put in tiers with many
, other barrels of oranges on top of them.
One poor refugee was too fat, aud could !
| not manage to squeeze himself into the
j barrel. This unfortunate had to go ashore,
]as the captain was afraid to carry him in
i any other way. The hold of the vessel was
j .suffocatingly hot, and the wretched pas
j sengers suffered untold tortures in the bar
rels. They were stowed away at 12 o’clock,
end the steamer did not leave until four.
Every little waile the captain would go
iuto the hold and say, “We’ll go in a few
minutes now,” but for four hours did the
torture last. One of them called out from
his barrel that he could not bear it, and
that he must he left out. The others ad
jured him to bold his peace as their safety
depended on his fortitude. He consented
j to make anew effort, and try to stand it a
i little longer. While they were anxiously
I awaiting the sailing of the vessel, they
heard the police officers oome on board.
: They down into the hold of the . vessel,
: and carefully searched every nook and
corner for stowa-ways. The opened sever
! id barrels, but finding nothing but oranges,
ntjnst came to the conclusion that all was
| right, and went ashore. When the vessel
j got outside the “Moro,” the refugees were
[ released, more dead than alive. Some of
them were so badly cramped that they
i could not assume an erect position for
| many days afterward. The mimes of the
j refugees are not given for obvious reasons.
, Why There Are So Many Bald-Headed
Why so many bald-headed men, and so
few bald women? Why is it, that they
shine like billiard balls? Why this s’peota
! ole of bald-headed barbers rubbing the
| dry tops of bald-headed men, reeonitnend
fiug invigorators warranted to produce
i bushy locks in less than a fortnight, while
bald-headed spectators and middle-aged
| men with wigs look on with derisive
1 smiles; though all the while their wives
and daughters throng our streets covered
with crowns of beauty, and charming
! actresses toss their blonde tresses in luxuri
| ous profusion on the stages of onr theaters?
Our male population will no doubt take a
i serene satisfaction in saying that it is be-
I cause men have more to worry them than
| woman, and have the trouble of contriving
| how to support their wives and daughters,
i Probably, however, that is not tho reason.
Women, of course, have finer and longer
hair than men, but men destroy their heads
under their hats, and thus heat the tps of
I their omniums until the hair dies out for
want of air. Men should either take off
their hats ofterier or ventilate them better.
The individual who stood himself up in
the corner to drain off, and afterwards
placed ■ his wet umbrella between the
sheets to keep warm, must have been
“MUGGINS’ ” FRIEND.
I have a country friend who is rather
absent minded. Ho usually goes home
from business each day towards evening.
| Quite often he gets home and finds his
wife out. Gn such occasions it is his cus
! tom to build a fire in tho kitchen stove,
|mt the tea-kettle on, and then lie down
! on the lounge for a little nap until the tea
j kettle begins to sing or his wife returns.
One evening lately, on getting homo he
found his wife absent. He built the
i kitchen fire, filled the tea-kettle and
i placed it ou the lounge. He then sat him
! self down on the stove; but he did not
sit thero long, for presently he began to
j sing. Muggins.
Drawing tub Pain. —A tall Yankee,
i standing six feet three inches in his stock
i ings, was suddenly uitnoked with symp
toms of a fever. Having a violent pain
i in his head, his wife, to afford him relief
I was about to apply draughts to his feet,
when he asked:
“What are you putting them on my feet
for ?”
“Why,” says she, “to try and draw the
! pain out of your head.”
“The deuce ?” says he; “I would rather
Jit would stay wliero it is than be drawn
tho whole length of me.”
A oremationist asks, wouldn’t it be
I pleasant to receive a dispatch something
! like this, some day:
Dear Mother- —William died at noon to
day. Ashes by mail.
Yours, in sorrow, John Smith.
MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS.
The woman's club --The parasol of the
! period.
Washerwoman’s uiotto-—“While there's
i life there’s soup.”
Cultivation to the ntiud is as necessary
' as foml is to tile body,
j The song of the ladies’ turn pe ran os
; hand:—•“Going thro’ the rye.”
Philosophy does not look into pedigrees,
j She did not liml Pluto noble, but she niudo
him so.
liove, which is only an episode in the
! life of man, is tim entire *istory of a
. woman's life.
A Chicago clergyman preached a sermon
in a billiard saloon last Sunday. Hu uiutle
j nineteen points.
The longest word in the English lan*
i gunge is smiles because lucre is u mile
J between the first and last letters.
A ludy hearing that a tunnel cost #15,000
ft yard, importuned her husband to buy
her a dress of that uiuterial.
For every bad there might be a worse;
anil when one breaks his leg let him bv
thankful it was not his neck.
The discovery of w liat is true, and the
practice of tlmt which is good, are the two
most important objects of philosophy.
Stepping with the bare feet on an oil
cloth at 2 a. m. rarely fails of suggesting
new figures of speech.
Three hundred years ago ladles used to
comb tlieir lmir ou their houds—now they
hung it over the back uf u chair to comb'
it.
A western man snores so vehemently
that his landlady gets her house moved
buck by turning his bed around.
Out in Indiana, last week, a mail framed
Gulo married a woman named Breeze.
Look out for little Squalls.
“The one thing,” says Jean Paul,
which a maiden most easily forgets, i*
how she looks- -hence mirrors wore inven
ted."
A fashion critic tells hr that the new
bonnets are the old ones sat down oil for
half an hour or so. The critic needs sit
ting on.
That was a sensible old chap iu Dela
ware, who, dying tile other day, said,
"Poh’t write any poetry about me and, 1
don’t fool around about a monument."
A correspondent, writing upon the sub
ject of the women’s ernsnde, asks, “If the
desd could speak to us from their graves,
wliat would they say ?” We rather guess*
they would say, “Let us out.”
A bad little boy in Dubnqne rubbed"
cayenne pepper dust all over the back of
his jacket. The school nia’nrn thrashed
him briskly, but dissmissed school imme
diately to ruu to the nearest drug storm
for eyewater.
Love is the crowing grace of humanity;,
the holiest right of the soul; the golden,
link which hinds us to duty and truth, the
redeeming principle that chiefly reconciles
the heart to life, anil is prophetic of eternal
good.
As the rainbow would never he seen
were it not for the clouds and rain, tin*
beauties of holiness would never shine so.
brightly were it not for the trials which,
the Spirit of God employs to promote
them.
When the ladies of Tnllahoma (Term)
began singing in front of a liquor store tho
barkeeper seta bottle with a fuse attached
and lighted it. Fearing it might bo pow
der or Jersey whiskey the ludies retreated..
A Nevada puper says: “There wan uo
regular trial in the case of John Flanders.
! yerterday. He had an interview in the
woods with a few friends, however, and it
i is perfectly certain that John won't burgle
, any more,”
What will not a woman do says a
Brooklyn paper, for tho man she loves 1
“Her hand wan the first to reach and liras
The bottle from the shelf—
'lt in your course dear John,' she said,
And drank it up herself.”
A Lantern-Jawed Vermonter got aboard"
a steamer for the first time, and fell through
tho hatchway into the hold, when, being
unhurt, he was heard to express his sur
prise: “Well, if the darned thing isn't
holler !”
A Manufacturer of spool-cotton was re
cently arrested for marking the number of
yards on the spools twenty percent greater.
than the length of the thread; but he en
tered ns a pica in defence that the cotton-,
was not manufactured for liAme consnmp-.
tion, but for a foreign market. So he was
| let off.
It is related of a country gentleman of
rather convival habits, that one night when
; returning home rather tho worse for his
libel ill potations, lie became impressed
with the idea that a small field in which he
found himself was his own bed-room. He
proceeded to undress, but first caroiullv
opened tho gate, and put out his boots to,
bo blacked in the morning.
Was it strategy that afflicted one of a.
number of rebels during the late wav,
i when the commanding officer ordered
; them to retake several guns captured by.
the enemy. “Captain,” said the philo?rj-_
pher, in the face of the danger, “if th-tln.-.
l-l-oss isn’t very gr-great, why can’t wet-l-
I take lip a 001-l-lection, and p-pay for the
j d-d—d old g-guns ?”
A Kentucky editor tells this: “We hear
of a gentleman in this city who, when he
happens to get intoi mated, goes to his
room, gives himself a good scolding, after
which he inflicts a severe chastisement
upon himself with a stout switch, and
winds up by making himself promise him
self to behave himself, in default of which
j lie will get another and more severe whip
ping.”
A crossing sweeper was trying to get a
gratuity from an excessively dandified
individual, who, in resisting urged that he
had no change, nothing but a twenty dol
lar bill. “I can get it changed for yer,”
said the youngster. On seeing the damlv
hesitate as if from fear of trusting him with
a tweuty-dollar bill, he put it again, “If
yer doubts my honor, hold my broom.”
A man at Trenton, who fonnd several
thousand dollars over two years ago, and
lias advertised it every day since that tin "
gets great credit for his honesty. Any
man would have quit looking for an owner
long ago; yet this Trenton man keeps on
advertising. But he owns the paper in
which it is advertised, and pays at full
rates out of the money fund. After three
years more of advertising the whole amount
will have been absorbed.
The husband of Mrs. Whipple, the
prominent temperance woman, uad a inu
niw escape from a most ludicrous accident,
Tuesday morning. He had lieen to one of
the neighbors to borrow some bread, and
was going up the stoop of his house on his
return, when a ten penny nail used to fas
ten his (milts and suspenders together
gave away, and he had but just time to
ror”'* through the door as the pants came
down.