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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.