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GALLAHER’S INDEPENDENT,
PUBLtPHBB BYBRY SATURDAY AT
ua.,
J. C. GALLAHER.
tKrMs op aunaruiPTioY ■
tiVO DOLLARS par Annum it* Advance.
A DREAM.
*Tliq Strly mopnliKht, faint and maek,,
tVU iu *lsll* lines uruw her bed,
and to gems on lash and check
Xhe tearn that had but now been abed.
Sleep. coming with the ahadoua, brought
A slo* relief from grievous thought.
It nulled the present sharp distress,
The aenso of loss too hard to boar,
The haunting thought of lonoiiucHH,
The imminence of untried cure.
Bhc lost rememb-aneo of the pain
That dawn would surtdy bring again.
Bho lost the world ; so tardily
Another consciousness was born,
And then dreamed that she was free,
Wandering beyond her life, forlorn ;
And soul and body still were wed,
Although it seemed that she was dead.
Some miglitv power, unseen and strong
Had cast her in an angry sea :
Bho strove to breast its billows long ;
Aud, as sbo struggled wearily,
Bbu saw a low black lino of shore,
With lights upon it, just before.
And, striving atilt more urgently,
Shu almost almost reached tmi t wished-for
land;
Then a great wave rose in the sea
And bore her over rocks and strand ;
llollcd back, aud left her there, alone
Aud helpless iu a laud unknown.
But while she lay there, torn and bruised,
And dripouig with the chilly brine,
She seemed to see, with sense confused,
The darkness round abot her thine—
To feel a touch that charmed all pain
-brm broken frame aud weary brain.
‘And ono bent near with pitying face;
Bo grave, so gentle, aud so sweet,
Bo lull of promise and of grace,
hlie smiled, while lying at his feet*—
As homesick children, home once more,
Forget the grief that came before.
He led her to the inner land—
The night wtu* hard beset by day—
She was content to hold his hand.
(it scorned there were no Words to say,
Because she understood so wi ll
Whatever there could be to toll.)
She saw the place was glad and bright,
With welcome strangeness heaven fraught ;
Bhc baud not kuown it by the sight,
Aud yet it was not new to thought;
All happy living things were there,
Befitted, u suit a finer air.
A little bird flew from above
And softly lit upon her head ;
She knew it for a petted dove
Bhc loved in childhood, long since dead ;
The Christ *.oiled, a* she spohe its name,
Aud said, “We kept it til]you came.' ’
And there were flowers and trees and sky
All wraiths of olden memory ;
Each tiny detail, far aud nigh,
. With some jmst beauty did agree.
The Christ said, “Bee ! they are the same;
We k* pt then for you till you came.”
Then suddenly abe hoard a voice
Like some dear Wcil-rt niembered song ;
It made her very heart rejoice
At comfort it had wanted long,
Hue knew, ere sight could satisfy,
lie she had mourned for stood close by.
Again her radiant leader smiled
i'lro s.uile toll more than words could say:
“lon needed uot to mourn, my child,
KorOod keeps all he takes away.”
Again 11.. *.du, “Tin y an the sumo ;
lie kept tttcui for you till yu OjttUo.”
They lived a joy that naught can tell;
Oolight libit filled infinity :
Love, with no former parallel,
An utter peace that ndKceii made free.
But, breaking through hm glimpse of grace,
A murmur scorned to till the plain.
The vision faded, passed away,
And left the darkuss blank and old ;
Bhc mw tli light of dawning day
far iu the east. The air was cold :
Tho cock’s shrill warning of the sun
Told of another day begun.
SENT BY EXPRESS 1
Oil,
WHAT FRANK EVANS MISSED,
Marino Harlan was alone iu the world—
her mother just buried,
She was a beautiful, brown-haired girl,
with soft, shy eyes of violet gray, and rosy
li|j compressed to a firmness far beyond
her years. For after all she was scarcely
seventeen, and so Deacon Gray was telling
her, as he sat by the fire spreading his
huge hands over the tardy blaze, and
asked :
‘But what are you goin’ to do to earn
bread and butter, child ?'
'I don't know—l havn’t thought. Ma
nia had an uncle in New York, who ’
‘Yes, yes—l've heel'd tell about him—
he was mad ’cause your mother didn’t mar
ry just exactly to suit him, wasn’t it ?’
Marian was silent. Deacon Gray waited
a few minutes, hoping she would admit
him into her secret meditations ; bnt she
did not, and the deacon went away homo,
to tell his wife that ‘that Harlan gal was
the very queerest erector ho had ever come
across. ’
In the meanwhile Marian was busy pack
ing her few scanty things into a little car
pet-bag, by the wierd, flickering light of
the dying wood fire.
‘I will go to New Y’ork, ’ she said to her
aelf, setting her small pearly teeth firmly
together. ‘My mother’s uncle shall hear
my cause pleaded through my own lips.
Oh, I wish my heart would not throb so
wildly 1 I am no longer meek Minnie Har
lan, I am an orphan, all alone in the world,
who must fight life’s battles with iier own
single hands.’
Lower broadway, at seven o’clock in the
evening 1 What a Babel of crashing
Wheels, hurrying humanity, and conglom
erate noise it was ! Minnie Harlan sat iu
the corner of an express office, under the
flare of gaslight, surrounded by boxes, an,l
wondered whether people ever went
crazed in this perpetual din and tumult.
Her dress was very plain—gray poplin,
with a shabby, old-fashioned little straw
bonnet tied -with black ribons, and a blue
veil, while her only arrticle of baggage,
the little carpet-bag, lay in her lap. She
had sat there two hours, and was very,
very tired.
‘Poor little thing P thought the dark
haired young clerk nearest her, who in
habited a sort of wire cage under a circlet
of gaslights. And then took up his pen
and plunged into a perfect Atlantic ocean
of accounts.
‘Mr. Evans.’
‘Sir.’
The dark-haired clerk emerged from his
VOL. 111.
cage with his *n-u behind his ear, in obe
dience to the beckoning Auger of his su
perior.
‘I have noticed that young woman sit
ting there for some time—how came she
here ?’
‘Expressed on, sir, from Mdlington,
lowa,—arrived this afternoon.*
As though poor Minnie llarland were a
box or parcel.
•Who for ?’
•Consigned to Walter Harrington, Esq.’
‘And why hasn’t she been called for ?’
‘I sent up to Mr Harrington,s address
to notify him some time ago ; I expect an
answer every moment.
‘Very odd,’ said tho grey-haired gen
tleman taking up his newspaper.
’Yes sir, rather. ’
Some three-quarters of au hour after
ward, Frank Evans came to the pale girl's
sido with indescribable pity in his hazel
eyes.
‘Miss Harlan, we have sent to Mr. Har
rington’s residence ’
Miuuie looked up with a feverish red
upon her cheek, and her bauds clasped
tightly on the handle of the faded carpet
bag.
‘And wo regret to inform you that he
sailed for Europe at twelve o'clock this
day. ’
A sudden blur came over Minnie's eyes
she trembled like a leuf. Iu all her cal
culations she bad made no allowance for
any exigency like this.
•Cuu we do anything further for you ?’
questioned tho young clerk, politely.
‘Nothing—no ono can do anything
now /’
Frank Evans had been turning away,
but something iu the piteous tones of her
voice appealed to every manly instinct
within him.
‘shall I send to any other of your
fete lids ?’
‘I have no friends.’
Perhaps I can have your things sent to
some quiet family hotel ?’
Minnie opened her little leather purse
aud showed him two ien-oent pieces, with
a smile that was almost a tear.
This is all tho money I have iu the world,
sir !’
‘So young, so beautiful, and so desolate!
Frank Evans had been a Now Yorker alt
his life, bnt ho had never met with an
exactly parallel case to this. Ho bit the
end of his pen iu dire perplexity.’ •
’But what are you going to do ?'
‘I don’t know, sir. Isn’t tuere a work
house, or some' such ,-lace I could go to,
until J could find something to do ?'
‘Hardly,’ Frank Evans could scarcely
help smiling at poor Minnie’s simplicity.
■They are piittiug out the lights and
preparing to dose the office,’ Haiti Minnie,
starting nervously to her feet. ‘I must
go—somewhere. ’
‘Miss Harlan,’ said Frank, quietly, ‘my
home is a poor one—l am only 9 five hun
dred dollar clerk— bnt I am •■lire my moth
er would receive you under her roof for a
day or two, if you can trust mo.’
•Trust you ?’ Minnie looked at him
through violet eyes obscured in tears.
*Oh, sir, I should be so thankful 1
***##*#
‘How late you are. Frank 1 Here—givo
mo your overcoat—it is all powdered with
snow, and— ’
But Flunk interrupted his bustling, cher
ry-cheeked little mother, us she stood on
tip-toe to take off his outer wrappings.
‘Hush, mother ; there is a young lady
down stairs.’
‘A young lady, Frank ?’
‘Yes, mother ; expressed on from lowa
to old Harrington, the rich merchant. He
sailed for Europe this morning, and she is
left entirely alone. Mother, she looks like
poor Blanche, and I knew you wouldn’t
refuse her a corner here until she could
find something to do.,
‘Mrs. Evans went to the door and called
cheerfully out;
‘Come up stairs, my dear—you’re as
welcome as the flowers in May 1 Frank,-
you did quite right; you always do.’
The days and weeks passed ou, and still
Minnie Harlan remained aninmateof Mrs.
Evans’ humble dwelling.
‘lt seems just as though she had taken
our dead Blanche’s place,’ said the cosy
little widow ; ‘and she is so useful about
the house. I don’t know bowl ever man
aged without her. Now, minuie, you are
not iu earnest abont leaving us to-morrow?’
“I must, dear Mrs. Evans. Only think
—I Lave been here two months 10-worrow,
and the situation of governess is, ve ry ad
vantageous.’"
“Very well. I shall tell Frank how ob
a'inate you ure.”
“Dearest Mrs. Evans, please don’t.
Please keep my secret.”
“What secret is it that is to be so relig
iously kept?” asked Mr. Frank Evans,
coolly walking into the midst of the dis
cussion, with his dark hair tossed about by
the wind, and his hazel brown eyes spark
ling archly.
“Secret!” repeated Mrs. Evans, ener
getically wiping her dim spectacle glasses.
“Why, Marian is determined to leave us
to-morrow.
“Minnie!”
“I must, Frank. I have no right fur
ther to trespass on yon kindness.”
“No right, eh? Minnie, do you know
that the old house has been a different
bouse since you came into it? Do you
suppose we want to lose our little
sunbeam?
Minnie smiled sadly, but her hand felt
very cold and passive in Frank’s warm
QUITMAN, GA., FRIDAY, JUNE 11, 1875.
grasp.
“You'll stay, Minnie?"
“No.”
She shook her head determinedly.
“Then you must bo made to stay," said
Frank. "I’ve missed something of great
value lately, and I hereby arrest you on
suspicion of the theft I”
“Missed something?"
Minnie rose turning red and white.
“Oh, Frank, yon can never suspect
me!”
"But Ido suspect you. In fact, I am
quite sure that tho article is iu your pos
session.”
“The article!"
"My heart, Miss Minnie! Now look
here -I know 1 am very young aud very
poor, lmt I love you, Minnie Harlan, and I
will he a good and true husband to you.
■Stay aud be my little wifel”
Ho Minnie Harlan, istead of going out
as a governess, according to tho pro
gramme, married tho dark-haired young
clerk iu Ellison's express office, New
York.
They were very quietly married, enrly
iu the morning, and Flunk took Minnie
home to his mother, aud then went calmly
about, bis business in tho wire cage, under
the circlet of gaslights.
“Evans!”
“Y’es, sir.”
Frank with his pen behind his ear ns of
yore, quietly obeyed tho behests of the
gray-headed official.
“Do you remember the young woman
who was expressed on from Millington,
lowa, two months since?”
“Yes, sir—l remember her."
A tall, silver-haired gentleman hero in
terposed with eager quickness:
"Where is she? I am her miele, Walter
Harrington. I have just returned from
Paris, when the news of her arrival reach
ed me. I want her, she is tho only living
relative left me.”
“Ah! but, sir,” said Frank, “you can’t,
have her.”
“Can’t have her? What do you mean?
Has anything happened?”
“Yes, sir, something has happened.
Miss Harlan was married to me this morn
tug-”
Water Harrington stared.
“Take me to her,” he said, honrsley; “1
can't be parted from my ouly living rela
tive for 11 mere whim."
“I wonder if he cabs the marriage ser
vice and wedding ring mere whims,”
thought honest Frank; but ho obeyed ill
silence.
“Minnie," said the old man, in falter
ing accents, “yon will come to me and be
the daughter of my old age? f am rich,
Minnie, and you are all I have iu the
world. ”
But Minnie stoic her baud through her
husband's arm.
“Dearest undo, he was kind to rae when
1 was most desolate and alone. I cannot
leave my husband, Uncle Walter- I love
him!”
“Then you must both of yon come and
be my children," said the old man, dog
gedlv; “and you must come now, for the
great house is as lonely ns a tomb."
Frank Evans is an express clerk no
longer, and pretty Minnie moves in velvet
and diamonds; but they are quite os hap
py as they were in the old days, and that
is saying enough. Uncle Walter Harring
ton grows older and feebler every day, ami
bis two children are the sunshine of his
declining life.
Grant’s Third Term Manifesto.
The day after the adjournment of the
Republican Convention the Philadelphia
Enquirer (Republican) said: “It can make
little difference now whether the Presi
dent speaks or remains silent, for Penn
sylvania lias spoken, and with such dis
tinctness and emphasis as to carry assur
ance to the timid that if any third term
aspirations have been indulged, their in
dulgence was vain.”
From the character of his third term
manifesto it is evident Grant understands
the real purport and meaning of theaction
of the Radical politicians who controlled
the Pennsylvania Convention better than
the editor of the Enquirer. Grant knows
what reliance to put in Radical platforms
and resolutions. There was a good deal
of jealously among the leaders and sorno
honest dissatisfaction among the rank and
file of the party on the subject of the third
term business, and it was necessary to
throw a tub to the whale to serve the tem
porary purpose of deferring the issue until
the proper time. For this purpose the in
geniously drawn anti-third term resolu
tion was passed. But Grant’s supporters
knew how to get round a question which
they dared not squarely and honestly meet,
and Grant need entertain no fears that
the men who voted for the sweeping and
fulsome approval ftud endorsement of his
administration will not at the proper time
he easily convinced of the existence of a
condition of circumstances rendering iris
nomination a party necessity, and his ac
ceptance of it “an imperative duty.” If we
had ever entertained any doubts that Grant
really aspired to a third term, his recent
pronnneiameuto would remove all such
doubts, and we are now equally assured
that after all the professed opposition to
his renomination, he-avill find no formi
dable obstacle in the way of its accom
plishment, and that it will be generally ac
quiesced in by the majority of his party.—
Savannah News.
Maine has anew town called Skuteba
watch iekatchio.
GRAFTING THE GRAPE.
In regard to grafting tho grape, Mr. A
8. Fuller says he has better success with
fall than spring grafting, although many
vinyardist prefer the latter season. For
fall grafting, say at any time after the
frosts kill the leaves and before tho ground
freezes, this author tells us tho operation
should he performed as follows: Helcct
scions of tho present seasou’s growth and
from canes a quarter to three-eights of an
inch in diameter, and out into lengths of
three inches, with a bud near tho upper
end. The lower end should be made into
a long slender wedge. Remove tho earth
about the stock four to six inches, if tho
main branching roots will permit of this
depth; then cut off the vine a few inches
below the surface,‘and square across; then
split it with a chisel or knife, making as
smooth a cleft as possible for tho reception
of the wedge-shaped scion. If tho stock is
an inch or more in diameter, two scions
may be inserted—one on each side of tho
cleft. Tho outer edge of tho wood of tho
scion must be placed even with tho outer
edge of the wood of the stock, no atten
tion being paid to the uniting of the two,
because one will be very thick and tlio oth
er very thin. A nice lit of tho two is es
sential, and in crooked-grained gnarly
stocks, a smooth, even cleft oau only be
made by cutting out the wood with a sharp
instrument. But it does not matter how
it is done, if it is well done.
After titling tho scions to tho stock,
wind a stout cord about them, in older to
bold the former firm in its place, then pack
the grafting clay or common soil about
the stock entirely covering the wound
made and tho lower half of tho scion, but
leaving tho bud nnoovored. No grafting
wax should bo used in grafting grape vines.
After the scions have been inserted as di
rected, invert a flower pot or a small box
over each one; upon this place a quantity
of leaves, straw or bay, then cover all with
earth, rounding it np in order to keep the
water from settling around tho grafted
stock as well us to prevent too severe free
zing.
Early in spring remove tho covering,
and if tho operation has been properly
performed, the scion will be firmly united,
and will push into growth as tho season
advances, i have had Deleware, bum,
and similar verities make a growth of from
fifty to sixty feet of vino from a single bud
in one seasi n, wheu set iu strong stocks in
the manner described. .
Grafting in the spring maybe perform
ed same in manner, omitting tho covering,
but it should be done very early, or after
the leaves have started and grow th begun.
The scions, however, should be out tally
and kept dormant in some cool plu:e until
wanted for use. Lawn tout Oar
don.
■When I Mean to Marry.
J. O. KAI'E.
Win!! do 1 mean l<> marry? Well,
‘Tie idle tv dispute with futr;
lint, if Vf.il to hu&r me *yU
IVuy listen while 1 lix the (law,*.
When <laii£hto:*B habte with eager foot
A mother h toil to whare,
Can inahu the pudding** which they oat
Ami hieud the HtoekingM Which they wear;
When mnidciiH look upon it man
Ah in hiturit lf what they would marry.
And not aa army soldiers seau
A sutler or a commissary;
When gentle ladies, who have got
The otter of a lover’s hand,
Consent to share his earthly lot,
And do not mean his lot of land;
When young mechanics are allowed,
To iind and wed the farmer’s girls
Wlio don’t expect to be endowed
With rubies, diamonds and pearls;
When wives in short shall freely give
Their hearts and hands to aid their sponaoH,
And live as they were wont to live,
Within their sires’ ono-story houses;
Then, madam—if I’m not too old—
Kejoiced to quit this lonely life.
I’ll brush my heaver, ceaso to scold,
And look about me for a wife!
The Wheat Crop.
The Macon Telegraph anil Messenger
says in Tennessee it in claimed the yield
will reach an average despite sumo injury
from frost in certain localities. The game
may be said of Georgia and Alabama,
though rust i-i reported in places. But
the reports from the West are more un
favorable.
The Chicago Times publishes one hun
dred and twenty-two special pispatclies
from all sections of the West and North
west, by which it would appear that the
grasshopper alarm is subsiding iu Nebras
ka, Missouri, Kansas, Minnesota and
lowa. It seems the grasshopper is no
grasshopper at all, lint a specieH of locust
which appeared last year, and, after rav
aging some sections, deposited their eggs
before disappearing. It is the hatching
out of the young insect that has caused
such a panic.
But experience demoustatea Hint they
are much feebler than when incubated in
the dry and rocky recesses of the moun
tains, and are destined to a very brief ex
istence.
Also that they never fly beyond a certain
limit eastward. The people are digging
deep trenches, too, in their path, into
which the voting insects fall nnu perish by
millions. In some places so great lias
been the slaughter that the stench is al
most insufferable. Poismdny with Paris
green is likewise resorted to.
Iu California the wheat crop will fall be
low the usual product, owing to the defi
ciency in the rain fall, which is so esseu
lial in that climate. But an exchange es
timates that the wheat surplus, after de
ducting the requirements of home con
sumption, will he three hundred and fifty
thousand tans,, with about haf ns much
more from Oregon. The two Hiatus will
have about $25,000,000 of wheat to spare
for the famished East.
Iu Pennsylvania and New York the yield
will be very short also: But per contra,
the adVieek from England, France anil
other portions of Europe are iu the high
est degree flattering.
This will tend to check the exportation
of grain, and allow the American supply
to bo kept at home to supply our own
wants. There is no fear, therefore, of a
corner in wheat, or that prices will ad
vance very materially.
The Western corn crop is late hut prom
ising, and the grass prospect excellent.
Upon a survey of the whole field, there
fore, croakers would do well to dry up and
, retire.
SHERMANS MEMOIRS.
Simonson’s Shot that Killed Bishop Folk -
The Tragedy Graphically Described by
an Eye-Witness.
To the Editor tlio Now York Herald:
In your review of ‘Sherman's Me
moirs,’ whut purports to be a statement of
tlio manner in which Gen. Folk was killed
is given, from which it appears that Sher
nnin called'General Howard's attention to
a gronp of officers on Fine Mountain, and
‘ordered him to compel if to keep under
cover.’ Will you permit one who was at
tached to Gen. Howard's headquarters,
aud who was by his side daily on the
Atlanta campaign—one who, beside the
Fifth Imtiana battery that fired the fatal
shot—to give the true story from my
notes made that morning and published
in a Western daily a few weeks afterward?
There certainly 'a a grievous error either
in your review or in Sherman's descrip
tion of the tragedy. Gen. Sherman was
not there, aud could not lmvo seen tho
shot filed. Gen. Sherman may have,
however, as he rode to the rear, where he
met Howard, called his attention to what
ho (Howard) would see when our party
reached Gen. David Stanley’s front. Tho
facts—in which I am sure l will bo sus
tained in the main by Gens. Howard and
Stanley and tho stntt' officers present—are
these:
On June 14 Gen. Howard itilif stuff leF
their headquarters for the front, where
Stanley's division of Howard's (Fourth)
Corps had broken camp and were awaiting
the order to attack Fine Mountain. It
was just after sunrise. A mile or two iu
rear of tile advance How ard met Sliermau,
but the conversation between them I did
not bear, its the two Generals conversed
aside. Howard and staff joined Stanley
and his staff on tho road, m full view of
Fine Mountain, and as we drew rein and
exchanged greeting, Stanley exclaimed:
‘Howard, do you see that group np
there on tho crest of tho mountain? 1
wonder who they are. ’
We all brought our field-glasses to bear
upon the point indicated, and could plain
ly see three persons standing in front of
the line of breastworks, and a large group
in tlio background. Wo could not tell
whether they were officers or privates, but
as it was evident they were watching our
movements, Stanley suggested that u few
shots bo fired to drive thorn under cover.
Howard, who igid suggested that Bishop
Folk war in the party, made no objections,
when Stanley turned to Captain Simon
son, bin chief of artillery, with the re
mark :
‘Simonson, can’t you nulimber, put a
shot into that group, and give tho Bishop
a mo ning salutation?’
•IT I try!” was Simonson's laconic reply.
And away ho galloped to the rear A few
minutes Infer a section of the Fifth In
diana Battery (Simonson’s) was unlim
bered within twenty feet of us. The
Jiieiitenar.t sighted the gun and the shot
exploded over and to tho right of the
group, Hero my memory fails me, but.
my impression is a second shot was sight- I
oil ami fired by the Lieutenant with no
better effect. Simonson, when the gun
bad been reloaded, dismounted, and said,
‘Hero, Lieutenant, lot me try it.’ He I
took the range and the messenger of death
sped oil its mission. Our glasses were
bent npou the group, and wo observed a
commotion as the shot took effect. ill the
group that scattered to the rear. While
S monsoii was upon his knees sighting the
gun for another discharge, Captain Leon
ard, Chief of Howard’s Signal Corps, sit
ting on his horse beside me, read the Con
federate signal code that our officers had I
interpreted at Lookout Moutain and
caught the words;
‘General Folk is killed P With a look
of amazement, Leonard turned to Howard
aud Stanley and exclaimed :
‘Bishop Folk is killed !’
‘What?’ exclaimed Howard, ‘have
you interpreted the signal correctly ?’
‘Yes, General ; Simonson’s last shot
killed him. They are signaling it along
the line.’
The young men of the staff who were
cracking jokes instantly ceased, and fora
moment nonespoko. Then Howard said :
•Well, a Christian has fallen. Such is
war.’
Just then Simonson caught tho words,
•Bishop Folk is killed 1’
He was sighting the gun, and lifting his
eyes, that glared fearfully, exclaimed :
‘What is that, Leonard ?’
‘Bishop Polk is killed ! Your Inst shot
did it. They are signaling it over the
mountain,’ I replied.
‘Simonson’s head dropped upon tne
‘vent where it rested a moment. Then,
raising his eyes, ho exclaimed :
‘Thank God ! Yesterday they killed
my dear brother ; I have killed a Lieuten
ant General and am avenged I’
Without discharging the piece Simonson
arose, remounted ami joined the staff'.
Silently he repaired to his regular duties,
and, the line being formed, wo advanced
slowly against the mountain, every one
of us feeling that we would have rejoiced
bad some other than Louisiana’s fighting
Bishop gone down before Simonson’s first
anil only shot. The enemy was so demor
alized that he evacuated the mountain, and
half an hour afterwards wo stood upon the
spot where Polk fell, and saw the ground
stained with his blood. A day or two af
ter poor Simonson, the only one of tin who
rejoiced at the Bishop’s death, fell, shot on
the skirmish line in A''worth Woods.
Then was the Oontederaey avenged. It
is possible that Gen. Sherman had been to
the front that, morning, and. seeing the
group referred to, ordered Howard to dis
perse it; but certain it is that ho was no
where near Howard when Simonson’s shot
felt for the heart of Leonidas Polk, the
fighting Bishop.
—
Abolition of Slavery in Portugal.
Information him been received at the
Department of State, in Washington, of
the passage by acclamation, on the 22d of
March last, of an net by the Gourtes of the
Kingdom of Portugal granting uncondi
tional freedom to the remaining Portu
guese slaves, known as apprentices or
freedmeu. This act has not as yet been
ofiioiully printed by the government in tho
customary form. Apprenticeship is to
cease iu one year. Freedmeu who have
no trade or business, or cannot road or
write, muy be subject to tutelage by the
civil authorities, hut this right of tutelage
shall cease April 28, 1878. The labor of
those under tutelage is declared free, and
they ure to he at liberty to make their own
contracts, subject to tho revision of the
proper authority, such contracts to lie iu
no cuso binding for more thun two years.
How They Met—A Street Car Scene.
Wo witnessed a pathetic seouo on a
street car going to tho Union depot. Be
sides ourself, thero was only one passen
ger, a lmndsomo lady, well dressed, and
just in the prime of life and matronly ma
turity. About midway between Main street
and the depot n genteel, good-looking man
stopped the ear and got aboard. As he
stepped into the ear the lady jumped to
meet him, with tho exclamation : “Oh,
Harry, is it you ?’’ Answering, “Yes, Jen
nie,” ho caught her to his bosom in uii im
passioned embrace, bis face tllO very liic
tlire of happiness; while the lady looked
the impersonation of contentment audjoy.
Mutual explanations ensued, in the
course of which we learned that tho twain
had separated from each other during tho
war, and had not met since. “Harry”
said that he hud wandered over the earth
in sadness and sorrow, a yearning for his
first lovo always tugging at his heart ma
king him restless, nnd causing him.to con
stantly bo on the move. He lmd been to
California and in the mines of Nevada nnd
the Territories. With plenty of money at.
his command, he had been inßruzil and
other South American States, and was now
on a tour through his own country. “Jen
nie” had never forgotten him, hut hud
nightly prayed for his safety and welfare,
and lor his return; sho had wept bitter
tears over bis absence, aud hud eveu
searched for him at different places. Sho
hud forgotten all misunderstandings nnd
bickerings between them that so envel
oped her life in misery, aud “Oh, Harry,”
she said, “if yon will just take mo back to
your heart nnd love again I will be tlio
iinppiest little woman iu all the world.”
Tlio tears were in “Harry’s” eyes as be
took her in his strong arms, and kissing
her, swore that she was his forever. Ho
Hiiid he had “plenty of money to keep yon,
Jennie, and the babies in style, and
though I was going the other way I will
buy a ticket for St. Louis, and we’ll go
home.” We could not omself repress a
tear of sympathy, and sincerely rejoice
that these loving hearts are again united.
Let us trust no darkness may over again
fall upon their lives, but that they may
go down together through tho vale of llfo
iu happiness. —Houston Tehyfitph,
Boynton s Rivals.
On Tuesday last a number of New York
business men and officers of life insurance
eoinpmiies, nccoinyauicd Captain J. B.
Stoner down the bay to test tho efficacy of
liis new life-saving suit. The inventor,
with four companion's, Miss' Guyner, Mrs.
Moore nnd her sister, a girl eleven years
old, and John Stratton, remained in tho
water for an hour without being wearied
or chilled, and the experiment subsequent
ly demonstrated the utility of the inven
tion. The suit is in tluee parts, eacn of
which, when used alone, .will prevent a
person from sinking in water. Tho part
of the suit first put on is of India rubber,
and covers the person completely, leaving
only the face and hands exposed. A weight
of live pounds is attached to each ankle to
keep tho body erect. A jacket with twelve
air tubes, each capable of keeping a per,son
afloat, is fastened nromkl the body, with
straps over the shoulders. A pillow is at
tached to the shoulders, which, when in
liated, will support the head, if the wearer
desires to rest by laying on his back. A
buoy which eau be attached to the suit by
a rope, continues a flag, flagstaff and rock
ets, besides having room for provisions,
■ -
Dreaming.
What %‘oud i ons consolation comes to us
iu those blessed hours when (lie body lies
resting. The spirit roams at will, nor dis
tance, space, or time can seperato us from
onr love. The treasures snatched away by
death are ours again. Forms only dust to
day, are with us (is in bygone years. Tbo
same tint of hair the same shade of eyes;
the same rich coloring of lip, and expanse
of brow; the same expression. The little
peculiarities which endeared them to our
hearts, make dreaming a blessed reality.
How apt we are to exclaim, when waking
"Oh, could I dream the same again!” Be
reaved mother, you are comforted when
your baby nestles in your arms again; the
little fingers thrill you when wandering as
of old. The wee face breaks into smilesat
yonr caress! You would bold baby thus
for ever. Alas! you must awake—awake to
find nil empty cradle, empty arms, and u
longing heart.
There is more pleasure in dreams than in
realities. The awakening embitters both.
My sister, my brother, have you awakened
from the sunny dreams of youth? Are the
hopes you cherished dead? Have friends
■forsaken yon? Has disease claimed you
for his prey? Because that was so bright,
and this so dark, will you allow your life
to be a failure? If you cannot he what
yon would, will you not lie wl-at yon can?
Can you kindle ashes? \Vill you live a
rigbt? _
Young Men.
This year is sure to lie the hardest one
you have ever known. Money will he
scarce, provisions high and difficult to ob
tain. Now', we wish to tell yon that it is
not yet too late to go to work. If yon are
in the country stay there; if you are in
town fine to the country and pull off your
coat and go to work without delay. Do
this and you may be saved.
“If yon dully you are a (Instant,
If you ileubt vmi are damned.”
On you and your toughened sinews tlie
country relies. The old men of the land
can never redeem its lost fortunes. You
limy he men if you will; success is within
your grasp.—Thcrmopyhe had lint one
messenger of defeat, you need have none.
Leonidas and his three hnndered perished
as heroes; if you starve it will lie as worth
less idlers. You have waited long enough
for “something to turn up.” Rise like
Sampson when he shook the stout cords
from his fettered limbs; shake off laziness
from your stout arms and seize the plow
and ply the hoe early and lute, if you fail
blame ns with it.
To those wliQ are already in the field wo
would beg them be of good cheer, for in
the season they shall reap if they fail not.
Tremendous explosion recently occur
red in San Francisco, caused by the care
lessness of a single individual, one Clark,
and resulting iu the death of Several per
sons. One of the local journals thus pleas
antly suggest an epitaph for the man who
caused the sad disaster:
“The explosion which c6st so many per
sons their lives was caused by uspark from
a pipe, which tiie man Clark wnssmokiug,
dropping into some powder. They need
not look for Clark’s brains; but when they
get! the rest of him together they ought to
lmry the fragments in a prominent square,
and erect over them a monument, con
taining the inscription: “Sacred to the
memory of a d—'U tool!”
MISCELLANEOUS.
A doiighmeatio difficulty—heavy bread.
A miss quotation, "a thing of beauty is a
boy forever.”
Egypt is a land of donkeys but they
have morasses hr Ireland.
Jones’horso is troubled with tho heaves.
Ho heaves ovory one that attempts to rido
him.
It is told of rf ftiffflor in Canada, noted
for his penurious habits, that ho split his'
matches.
"Oau animals sffffet pain?” is the latest
question. Stick a pin into a ululo’a hind
leg and see.
Tho Rev. George Oakebread has accent
ed a call In Mount Flcasnnt, lowa. Wo
suppose lie’s kneaded thero.
Husband—“ What’s the nso of going out
this muddy weather?” Wife—" What’s
tho use of having striped stookings?”
It is said that Professor Tyndall has had
ocular demonstrations of Bound. Ho has
seen his bed tiuk.
ft OolUmhus (Tenn.) druggist spelled
rhapsody “wrap-soda, and snt down with
it smile of beaming self contentment.
In Lancaster, Fa., tlicri is a man milli
ner by the inline of Gmiu. Ho must have
been thC man who originally shot the
hut.
Considerate father. 1 ‘'You should eat
Graham bread, my son; it lifuftes. bone.”
Responsive youth: "H’m, I’ui , bout all
boues now."
“Hullo, Bub I trying to get nn appetit e
for your dinner?” “Well, u-o-o,‘ no? ex
actly; fact is, I’m trying to get a dinner
for my appetite.”
An exchange. interogat-es itself after
this fashion; “What holds all' tile ebfuff in
the world?” And answers, “No one nose.”
It's enough to Macaboy laugh.
Boor little America and her centennial! 1
Japan has just been celebrating the two
thousand five hundred nnd tliAty-fifth an
niversary of tho Japanese empire.’
A boy writing a letter to bis sister, said:’
“Sarah Jane Gibbs is dead, and her
mother’s got twins They arc girls, aud
this is awful lfno Weather for direks.”
An Englishman having been solicited to'
twin a Black Hills expedition, replied thur
“hit fe better to bear the bills wo’live"
than lly to bothers that we know not
of,”
A' Gorman woman iu Brooklyn lately en
tered a crockery store and astonished the
clerk by asking for “a leetlo Beecher.” A
little pitcher was what she wanted.
“Every tree is subject to' disease,” said
a speaker in a fruit growers’ Convention.,
"Wliiit aiTirfeilt Can yon find on an oak?”
asked the chairman. "A-coru,” was tho
triumphant reply.
A Milwaukee hired girl attempted sui
cide because she broke a saucer. So far so'
good. You are astonished, of course, hut
listen further r She had hardly recovered
when sho broke six plates and swore the
cut did it.
The worst case of selfishness that ever
has been presented to the public, emanated'
from a youth Who complained because his’
mother ptit a bigger mustard plaster on'
bis younger brothel* than she did off
him.
NO. 0.
Over the shop door of a pork butcher in
an English village in an eastern county
may bn seen a sign-board representing a
man in a black coat brandishing a lmtchot,
with the inscription, “John Smith Hlif
pigs like his father.”
The Middletown Evening Post sfijs that
Miss Susie Dewsnnp, of that village, is go -
iug abroad rts a' foreign missionary. How
seldom it is that young ladies deWsnttp at
such opportunities for doing good to their
heathen fellow creatures!
Here's a Yale College ditty:-—“And if it
is a girl, sir, we’ll dress her up in blue,
and send her out to Saltonstall to couch
the Freshman crew; and if it is a boy, sir,'
we’ll put him on the ere-.v, and let him
wax the Harvurds, as his daddy used to
do.”
A good story is attributed to Sheridan’s'
son Tom, who being told by his father,
that he had made his w’fjl and cut him off
with a shilling, said ho was sorry, and im
mediately added: "You don’t happen to'
have the shilling about you now, sir; do’
you?”
"Gracious heavens, doetorl do’ y>ou
mean to tell mo that I must do without
stimulants altogether?” “Certainly. If by
any chance you should feel a. sinking In -
twcum your meuls, I can’t object to—a- ’ll/
a -J" “Yes!—yes ” “ WiudgUtss ful
of cold water, you kfio'W.’’
Two brothers down east were noted for
the earnestness with which they took part
in plilic worship. One day the elder
brother, in descanting off the characterist
ics of each, said: “Brother George cuff
exhort and sing, but be can’t pray. I cun'
pray liis shirt off!”
“Will, John,” said a snndny-sbhonf
teacher to anew scholar that hail been'
gathered from the highways, “how old
are you?” "Six years, mum.” “Have
you any brothers or sisters?” .“One —Bob .
—that’s all.” How old is ho?” “Ditnno,
ma’am; hut he’s just comujonoed for tu
chaw terbacker.”
“That ar’ pateh of ground’s mem’rible,”
said an Omulm man, pointing to a grave’
all by itself outside the town. “I reckon
you’ll know that, stranger, when you sen
it ng’iu- Tim oekvpant iff that Was the
first man Hernia Greeiy ever told to git
West—likewise he was hnug tot btealin’ u
mewl.”
I’at bought a sheep’s head, and waif
writing down the receipt for cooking it.
when a dog made off with it. Pat gave
chase, shouting, “Como hack wid iuu
sheep’s head, ye robber, ye!” bnt afti r is
stiff inn lie had to givo iu, dead beat, when
lie consoled himself with the remark,
“Never moiiul; he hasn’t got the. resate.” .
A man dropped iirto the post office ami
wanted to know how in neb merchandise
ho could send in one parcel. “Four
pounds,"Was the reply. Then he blandly
said he thought ho would send out to Ari
zona four pounds of those red toy balloons,
inflated; but lie had difficulty in gettiue
out of the door in lime to ilodgo a mail
bag.
“Let me tell you what I heard to-day,”
said a young lady to her admirer. “Wei/,
tell us it, lam all ears,” responded tho
gentleman. The lady earnestly gazed up
on the speaker for some moments, and
then she said, as though newly impressed
with an overwhelming fact; “Well, so you’
are, to be sure. You oughtn’t ever get
your hair cut.”
A man bought a horse. It was the first
one he had ever owned. Ho saw in
newspaper that a side window iu a stable
makes u horse’s eye weak ou that side; a
window in front hurts his eyes by tho
glare; a window behind makes him squint
eyed; a window on a diagonal line makes
him shy when lie travels; a stable without
a window makes him blind. lie sold the
horse.
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