Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME I.
THE DJ DEPES DENT.
HATI RDAY. MOVBMDBR I, I*l3.
PublUlird Weekly at S'4 (W per Annum
In Advance.
Single Topic* 5 rents.
CUPID’S WILES;
08.
THE HASTE AND WASTE OF LIFE.
BY WALTER OAKWNEH, ESq.
“So she has Ail ideal, has she?”
Edmond Webster leaned baek in his
clmir, took a cigar from the lava stand on
the table, and proceeded to light the weed
with much apparent nonchalance, but he
was thinking all the time how narrow his
chances were w ith Madeline Lawton if she
had indeed la gan to chase after that impos
sible thing—the ignis fatnus of the femi
nine mind—a perfect man!
Burke Lindsay smiled in his provoking
way, and reaching forward helped himself
to u cigar, with a dry:
“Thank you my friend. On reflection I
will smoke."
“Pardon my inattention. But yon know
better than to be ceremonious here. The
fact is I was thinking—”
“So I perceive, and the subject was
Madeline, or perhaps your own claims in
her eyes—”
"Pshaw! What folly!” interposed Web
ster. with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Yes it is all folly from the cradle to the
grave,” groaned Burke, pulling vigorously
at his cigar.
"Bat you were speaking of Miss Law
ton's ideal."
“Interested again, eh?”
“No, merely curious,” replied it el is ter,
quietly.
“A noble, motive, upon my word! Now
do you expect me to lay before your cold,
uusyaiputbiziug mind the sweet dream
that young and tender heart?” said Burke
with a succession of grimaces and violent
gestures. “Do you take me for a heathen
chines, a cannibal, or a member of Con
gress? Alas! that one so full of pr ■ -
should fall so low. Webster yvm !
name is parodied in you. ”
“Are you though?”
“if ink me not, caitiff,lest in iny w ato 1
take thy worthless life, ” shouted Burke,
contracting one eye, uml raising his
hand.
Webster flung his ashes away impa
tiently.
“Come, come, old fellow, you have time
enough to establish your claim to lunacy
when you are alone. I will be frank with
you. I am to call on Miss Lawton to
night, and I wish to fairly understand her
hobby before I go.”
“Hobby! What a vulgarism! Mend
your manners! lam shocked. I’ll have
no fellowship with you.”
“You incorrigible clown!”
“Thank you. Y'onr compliments are
like your features—-beautiful!” lejoined
Burke, serio-comically. “But must I ex
pose the secret of that fond heart to thee?
O adverse fate! Well, if you fall in love
with Madeline you'll be as miserable as I
am—that’s all.
“Yon!” repeated Webster, startled from
his unconcern by the apparent earnestness
of his friend’s last words.
Burke laughed long and loudly, and
ducked his head and slapped his sides,
while Webster, somewhat annoyed, tapped
his feet restlessly.
“I knew it—l knew it—buff feel no
shame, good Edmund. She is worthy of
thee, doubtless! But seriously, my dear
boy, I wouldn’t advise you to hurry your
suit Don't scowl, now—l have your se
cret. but you know it is safe. I will aid
you to the full extent of my power. I will
abuse you to her and decry your personal
appearance.
“A singular way to advance, a friend's
cause upon my word.”
“How innocent you are of the myste
ries of the feminine character. Your ig
norance must be blissful since it is so pro
found. Y’on ought to know that a woman
is an animated contradiction—a breathing
inconsistency, and lienee to make her love,
non must try to make her hate. If I
run you down severely, she will defend
you earnestly, while if I praise you she
will become disgusted with us both and
tti .b u a couple of conspirators for her
kiand.”
“t’onfound your homilies! Tell me the
nalmre of her ideal, will you?”
“Such is gratitudeT* moaned Burke,
elasping his hands, and raising his lacc up
ward in mock anguish.
Webster tossed his cigar into the grate,
and arising, proceeded to make his toilet.
“Forbearance lias cea-edto be a virtue,
eh my friend.”
“You’re a fool!” muttered Webster,
petulantly.
“That's the way he treats me—he—the
mau who borrowed ten cents of me yes
terday. But I’ll be generous—l’ll forgive
him. Ed your eyes are bluejnow Moi -
ling has gone wild, mad, frantic ru.. . :
liquid black. Your mustache is yellow
golden I mean,and Madeline detests sue’:.
Step into the barber's as yon go along and
have it changed to a raven hue. Your
hair is straight—get ft curled. You are
only five feet ten inches in height. Mad
eline’s hero must be just siz feet two.
You are a broker—Madeline's choice is a
soldier, brave and fearless. You couldn't
write a sonnet to save your head. Made
line's husband qiust be capable of penning
TIIE INDEPENDENT.
the sweetest verse. You’d better stay at
home, I guess.”
“You have about as much success in
making her out a ninny as you have in
making a punster of yourself,” said Web
ster, irritably.
Burke laughed, and arising, slapped
his friend on the shoulder and bade him
adieu. Webster never asked where he
was going; he was tired of him ami glad to
be alone.
An hour later Edmund Webster was
shown into Lawton mansion. As he was
on intimate terms with the family, he dis
pensed with the footman, and went up
stairs alone, entering, as was his custom,
at the rearjdoor of the drawing-room.
Hearing voices he paused, and npou look
ing around, saw that the drapery, which
was usually looped up each side of the
foliliug-doors, was down, leaving but a
crevice in the centre, through which
streamed one ray of light.
“What the duce docs -rois mean? Ah!
what is that?"
The tones of a familiar voice sounded
upon his ear, and a dark suspicions frown
crop! over his brow. Should he listen?
No, that were despicable. He now heard
Madeline’s voice in soft, mimical accents.
Could he go with this mystery unreveal
ed? That were impossible, and so lie stood
trembilng with a strange eagerness —an
undetinable yearning for something that
he knew would give him pain. Hark!
He bent forward now, every facility on the
alert.
“You can never love him, he. with his
pale, Saxon face and yellow hair; you can
never give him that heart which is the am
bition of my soul. Ills eves never looked
into thine with the power of love that
moved thy nature to response. No, their
dullness is of the cold North; it would
freeze thy feelings at their fount. Listen
tome, 1 implore thee, I who love thee
with all my heart and soul and life;l who
would perforin any task, do any penance,
face any danger for one of iliy smiles.”
It was the impassioned voice of Burke
Lind ;ay! Agitated almost beyond control,
Edmund glided forward and peered
through the er vice! The scene that there
met his view caused the blood to leap like
iii-. ,!i: , c.j) i:i veins. There stood the
gr icefii! Madeline with her hand averted,
ami one hand raised ileprecatingly, while
Lindsay, clasping the other, knelt before
her.
“The traitor!” hissed Webster from be
tween his set teeth.
“And art thou then so modest in thy de
mands that a smite will -atisfy tliee! Be
hold, I smile!"
“Ami Heaven is before my glance!" in
terposed the lovor.
“Which if thou woulds! win tlion must
prove thy love. Words are empty; I crave
deeds.”
“Name the test, O, beloved, and it shall
be performed though death oppose me.”
“Au hour L nee thou shalt know. It is a
simple thing but thou niayest fail; if so,
let me never behold thee again."
“And if I succeed?"
“I am thine forever,” was the tender
reply, and Webster saw bis friend press
the maiden's hand to his lips. A wild im
pulse to spring forward and confront his
false friend seized him, but lie crushed
it down and hurried from the room. As
lie reached the street ho uttered a terrible
malediction uml clenched his hands until
the nails pierced the flesh. He would go
to his room and wait, and se if Burke
had the hardihood, the bravado to present
himself again before him. An hour
passed. Yes, he was coming, he had in
solence enough to match his treachery.
Webster leaped to his feet, and turned to
ward the door, his face white with rage,
his eyes gleaming like diamonds.
Burke entered, humming a merry song,
and threw his hat upon the table. Then
looking up he beheld the rigid features of
his friend, and exclaimed:
“What’s the matter with you, old fel
low?”
“Scoundrel!” cried Webster, rushing
forward with uplifted fist. “Time-serving
villi;:u, how dare yon come hereafter your
foul, black lies, your accursed hypocrisy!”
Overwhelmed .with astonishment, Lind
say retreated a step and gazed upon his
friend as if he thought him insane.
“Do you hear me, you toad? I hove
called yon a scoundrel, now I add wretch,
coward, sneak!”
“Come, come, Ed, this is getting be
yond the limits of fun even for friends.
Explain yourself.”
“Explain. Think you I’m a fool, a dolt
to be cajoled and spit upon. Friend!
How dare yon use the word, you traitor.”
Burke’s face flushed, and his fists closed,
but he controlled himself, and said
calmly:
“I know not what you mean. I am
your friend, and so I'll not quarrel with
you. ”
“Because you dare not; your cringing
soul shrinks from the knowledge of its own
acts. Le ve me, you cur leave me, and
the next time von come where I am I will
kick you out doors.”
“! .-bound Webster, you will regret this
, , time, and ask my pardon. I will not
fight with one who has been l v friend.”
And quickly turning lie left the room.
Webster paced the floor excitedly for
some minntes. There was no excuse for
Burke; his treachery was of the lowest or
der, and Webster had seen it; he required
no proof. But he would not give Made
line up—no, be would win her from this
unworthy man if it were possible. So the
next evening found him again in Loitis-
QUITMAN, G Y., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 1873.
burg Square. Madeline, sitting in the
drawing room, arose as he entered and
greeted him kindly. Her brown eyes
never shone so brightly, her soft hair nev
er looked so beautiful, her lips never wore
such a deep, luscious red. Webster gazed
upon her with admiration. But her first,
question annoyed him."
“Where is Burke? This is the first
time you ever came without him.”
“If his presence is necessary to your
perfect happiness, I can go and find him.”
“Perhaps it were better that you
should," she said coolly.
He gazed upon her with painful in
quiry. It was all true, then. She hated
him. and took this way to make him un
derstand it. But he would not Vie rebuffed
so.
“Am I not welcome when I come alone?”
“Yes, if you are at pence with yourself
and your fellow-men.”
“Madeline what do you mean? You
have not even a friendly, glance fin me;
y.-n meet me with reproof and coldness
when I crave love. It is useless to disguise
my feelings. I love you with all my heart
and soul. Speak, Madeline, and let me
know what I am to expect.”
He arose and came toward her, his
hands extended, his blue eyes bent upon
her imploringly. She turned away her
jliend, and tupped her foot nervously.
I Presently she fared him, cool and com
. posed as ever.
“I don’t know what to say to you, Ed
mund Webster," she replied, meditatively.
"I don’t want to break such a sensitive
[heart as yours, and yet W. 11, the man
that I many must have at least sonic char
ity, some generosity.”
She flashed her eyes upon him and re
| sunn and her seat.
“You are trifling with me,” he said
huskily. “You play with me and enjoy
(lie misery you produce. I might have
known it.”
“Thank you; ii is like the rest of your
j deductions,” she said icily, mid yet it
! seemed that her lip quivered a lit tle.
He regarded her a moment wouderingly,
arid then advanced and stood by the
chair. Presently he said.
“Forgive me, Madeline, if I have done
you injustice, and for my ion selfish sake
I I hope I have. But yours was a strange
| answer to an avowal of love. What could
: I understand by it? Y'oii breathed not a
syllable of uffec.ion, but spoke only of
| marriage. Would you marry without lov
! ing? O, Madeline, lam pained and con
: fused. Tell me, 1 beseech you, if you
1 care for me.”
He bent forward and gazed upon her
tenderly. She looked upon him only
once, and tears sprang to her eyes. Be
lieving this an indication of regard, l,e
impulsively to his heart, and
kissed her rapturously.
Instantly she was upon her feet, her
form drawn proudly up, her eyes blazing,
her bosom throbbing convulsively. He
retreated a step, awed by the majesty o!
her anger.
“Mr. Webster, this ends our acquaint
ance. I am ashamed of you, since: you
have no shame for yourself."
“Hut, Madeline, hear me! 0, God! do
drive me away thus!”
“Enough! leave me!” but the words
cost her an effort. He obeyed, groping
his way blindly toward the door.
*****
“Why did you let me get well?"
The soldier raised his head and glanced
reproachfully upon the surgeon, and then
folding his arms, sighed deeply.
“The American is too brave to die. The
French love him. His Colenel make him
a Lieutenant. See.” Anil the doctor
held up a commission and a badge of
honor to the gaze of a patient, but the lat
ter evinced no interest in them whatever.
The surgeon shook his head perplex
edly, and moved on to attend to the other
poor fellows who luvd received wounds
from Prussian bullets.
“So I’m a Lieutenant in the French
army,” muttered Edmund Webster, a pe
culiar smile parting his lips. “Well, I
might l>e aid-de-camp to the great Mogul,
or a Kussian page, it wouiil make but lit
tle difference to me. My life is a useless
burden, anil in consequence of the very
thing that we make the most fun of—love!
0, Madeline! if I could but forget you.
Instead you seem nearer to me as time goes
on; indeed, I could swear that I have seen
your face within a week. But let me not
think of it.”
The next day Lieut. Webster was dis
charged from the hospital, and received
the congratulations of his officers and corn
! lades. After leaving them lie walked
through the ground, meditating upon the
j great change in his life. As he came
round the bend in a path he paused sud
denly and raised his hand in amazement,
j while his heart puls ited violently. Before
I him, upon a rustic c it,rat Madeline Law
ton. For a moment ins emotion prevented
speech, then he darted forward and took
her hands.
“Madeline! Madeline, speak to me.”
She started slightly, a rich color tinted
her cheek, her eyes drooped pensively,
and then a bright mite illuminated her j
features.
“You are well again, Lieutenant. lam
thankful for that. ”
“Is that all. Madeline? ’Twas but yes
terday I was thinking that I had seen you.
that you bent over my couch, and now I
know I have. Y'ou have cared for mo,
you have nursed me back to life, and for
what? Madeline, iff cannot have, your 1
love Ido not wish to live. Tell me, dear
est, can I have It?"
“Will you ask Burke’s pardon for your
injustice to him?"
“Yea when I know that I was unjust.”;
“Then my hand is yours, Eddie. 1
cannot give you my heart, though!
“Ami why?”
“Because you have always had it,” she
nuirmereil, her nock and face growing
crimson.
“My Madeline! My own!” And lie
stole one kiss from her rich lips. It is
needless to say that Edmund resigned,
and went home, that soon after he and
Madeline were married, that Burke be
came again his bosom friend, and often
refers to his practicing theatricals with
Madeline and whaPtjjfcne of it.
A Valiant Tajlku. —“Stand and deliv
er." were the words addressed to a tailor
travelling on footflrtiy *:-highwayman,
whose brace of pistols looked ratlier dan
gerous than otherwise. “I’ll do that with
pleasure, was the reply, at the same time
handing over to the outstretched hands of
the robber, a purse apparently well
stocked. “But,” continued he, “suppose
von do me a favor in return? My friends
would laugh at me when I go home and
tell them I was robbed with as much pa
tience as a lamb; s'puse you the your two
bull dogs right through the crown of my
hat; it will look like something of a show
i of resistance."
His request was aeee led to; but hardly
! had the smoke from the discharge of the
weapons passed away, when the tailor
pulled out. a rusty old horse-pistol, and in
iiis turn politely requested the thunder
struck highwayman to shell out everything
of value, his pistols not omitted, about
him.
- ■ —-
The Duties of Youth. —The first year
of man must make provision for the last.
He that never thinks, can never be wise.
Perpetual levity ends ignorance; and in
temperance, though it may fire the spirits
for an hour, will make life short and mis
erable. Let us consider that youth is of
no long duration, and that in mature age,
when the enchantments of fancy shall cease
and phantoms of delight dance no more
about us, we shall have, no comforts but
the esteem of wise men, and the means of
doing good; let us therefore stop, while to
| stop is in our power; let us live us men
who sometimes grow' old, and to whom
it will be the most dreadful of all, to count
their [last, years by follies, and to be re
minded of their former luxuriance of
health only by the maladies which riot has
produced.
During the exhibition of a menagerie in
a country village in Maine, a real live Yan
kee was oil tile ground, with a terrible
itching to “see the elephant," but he
I ain’t the disiden.t si "quart r.” Hav
ing made up his mind to get in “os ylieow,"
lie stationed tiirtself near the entrance, and
waited until the rush was over. Then un
smiling a patient, almost exhausted tone,
and with the loro-finger of his right hand
placed in right corner of his mouth, he ex
claimed, “Conscience sake, Mister, aint ye
goin to give me my change?” “Your
c hange!” said the door keeper. Ya-ees,
my change! I gin ye a dollar as much os a
half an hour ago, and liaint got my change
yet.” The doorkeeper handed over three
quarters in change, and in walked the
Yankee “in fnndz."
“The ‘toughest’ set of ‘roosters’ that
ever shook the dust, from any town,” says
the it no (Nov.) Journal of Aug. 20, “left
Reno yesterday morning for the new min
ing district of Cornucopia. They came
here from Virginia. Among the crowd
were four New York gun fighters, two
Chicago murderers, three Baltimore bruis
ers, one Philadelphia prize fighter, four
San Francisco hoodlums, three Virginia
j beats, two Union Pacific roughs and two
; check guerrillas. ”
*.*-
A New York person who wears spectacles
i and white linen clothes and boards at one
of our hotels, went out into the woods to
1 hunt for wild strawberries. Two doctors
have since been employed hunting for one
of his ears. They have got the swelling
down so lie can blow liis nose with a pair
of pinners, and think they have found all
of his mouth, but they can’t find that ear. j
They believe it is there, however. People
who’can’t tell mnrenry vines from straw
berry plants should keep out of the woods.
-
The Memphis Avalanche gives the fol
lowing item: “Asa part of the history of
the ravages of the scourge in North Mem
phis, we place, ou record the fate of the
inmates of the boarding house known as
the Mississippi House, corner of Market
I and Front streets. The landlord is Joe ;
Sandford, whose family consisted of a wife 1
and two children. In this house were
eighteen hoarders. Of all these, there
were only Joe and one boarder who sur
! vived. All the rest, twenty, died.”
——
An incident has just occurred in Rhode
Island which is in marked contrast with ,
the treatment meted out to pastors who,
; from long service, break down and are
forced to retire from active duty. A pas
tor at Newport, being forced to retire be
-1 cause of ill health,after many years’service,
was presented the other day by his congre
gation with a draft for SIO,OOO, and a pen
sion of 1,000 a year for the remainder of
liis life.
The Baltimore Election —The large
Democratic majority in Baltimore is re
garded as settling tile fall election. Mont
gomery Blair says the Democrats are now .
sure of the Static The Republicans friend
ly to Cresswell are sorely disappoined, and
are raising the cry of fraud in order to;
cover their defeat. They will of course
practice the like falsehoods after the Vir
ginia elections.
- —
The Lots and Arcadian Clubs of New
York are on a “wild hunt” after lions in
the way of distinguished foreigners. So
active is the rivalry that it is said that as
soon as a steamer is telegraphed at Sandy
Hook committees of the clubs are in wait
ing to arrange with any notable person who
may be on hoard for a Saturday night re
ception.
Some bovs in Indiana dropped an anvil, ;
weighing two hundred pounds, out of a
fourth story window on the head of a ne
gro who was passing, and lie hail them ar-1
rested. He said he was willing to let the
boys have fun, but when they jammed a
jemman’s hat, over his eves, and spoiled it j
that wav, the law must take its course.
[From Chicago Tribune.]
A Minister Breaks Down In the Pulpit
From Starvation.
On a recent Sunday a West-side Episco
palian minister went, through the morning
service as usual, though it was noticed by
many of the congregation that he lacked
his usual fervor and earnestness. When
it grew near the time for the reading of
the sermon it, was apparent that the
reverend gentleman was suffering from a
cause unknown to liis congregation. The
text of the homily was rend, and at this
juncture the minister broke down. He
announced the cause of his doing so. Ho
had not been to market the day before,
for the simple reason that lie had no
money to go there with, and the most un
feeling of parishioners will admit that,
even for a mau whose culling is supposed
to fit him for trials and self-abnegation, to
trip to an overflowing market can ho any
thing but pleasant to a man with empty
pockets.
At dinner the previous day he had sat
down to a meal of bread and butter and
tea. His breakfast that morning hail
proved hardly so luxurious. Whether,
after the morning services was over, and
he returned home, there would be any din
ner at all awaiting him lie did not know.
It was a clear case of clerical starvation.
The minister closed his book and the con
gregation rose in their seats and departed,
sermonless, it having been shown plain to
them that their pastor could not supply
them with spiritual food, when they had
so shamefully neglected to give him the
w herew ithal to obtain physical sustenance.
■ *.* —..—
A Strange Story from Cape May A
Long Lost Son Returns.
A special dispatch to the Philadelphia
Bulletin from Cape May city, October 23,
says:
“About twenty years ago, Captain Bav
more, lying with his vessel in the port of
New Orleans, had with him his little son,
three ye rs of age, who, while playing around
the docks, was suddenly missed. Every
effort was used to find him, even to search
ing in the river, hut all was unavailing,
and lie was given up as drowned, A day
or two ago a stranger, with a heavy heard
and language of strong German accent,
made liis appearance and claimed to be
the long lost soil. From his story it seems
that he was stolen by a Dutch captain,
who cared for him and educated him as
liis own.
The boy always supposed that he was his
father until otherwise informed bv the
Dutch skipper on liis death bed, who gave
him his real father's name anil told him
lie used to live somewhere in Cape May
j county, N. J. The search here was re
warded by finding his father still alive anil
! a resident of liis former home- but strange
j to say his father refused to own him, liis
j belief being so firm that his boy was
drowned. The soil had with him the
newspaper containing the advertisement
for liis body which the Dutchman had
preserved. It is said that the young man
is in good circumstances, and he started
on liis return to liis present home, which
: is in Mexico."
■
Symptoms of Maidenly Celibacy.—
When a woman begins to drink her tea
without sugar that’s a symptom.
When a woman begins to read love sto
ries abed that’s a symptom.
When a woman gives a sigh on hearing
of a wedding - that’s a symptom.
When a woman begins to say that she
has refused many an offer that’s a symp
tom.
When a woman begins to talk about
rheumatism in her knees and elbows—
that's a symptom,
When a woman begins to refuse to tell
her age—that’s a symptom.
When a woman begins to say what a
“dreadful set of creatures men are and
that she wouldn’t be bothered with one
for the world”— that’s a symptom.
-
Accidental I’oisonino.— The recent
sail ease of Dr. Peck, of Dutchess county,
N. Y., who poisoned himself with ft heavy
dose of aconite, by taking up in the dark
a bottle of that medicine instead of spirits
of nitre, suggests to a render of the New
York Post the following methods for the
preventions of such dreadful mistakes:
First All bottles for holding poisonous
or dangerous medieins or substances to be
designated by several raised rings or pro
tuberances around the part than would
naturally be taken hold of in the act of
pouring or drinking.
Second- All papers containing poisonous
or dangerous medicines or substances to
be invariably black and glazed on the out
side.
—
William Allen, the Democratic Governor
elect of Ohio, perhaps, went to that State
about 182fi, a poor hoy. In 1830 he fell
in love with the daughter of a wealthy old
Federalist, but the old mau couldn’t think
of being his father-in-law. In 1832 the
old gentleman was nominated for Congress
in a strongly Federal district, but the
youngster, who was only twenty-five, took
the stump against him, and fought bitterly.
Allen was elected by just one majority.
But the old man wouldn’t give him the
girl. He forced her to marry another man
anil Allen had to wait two yerrs, until she
became a widow; but now she is his better
half. _
A sad looking man was snivelling over
the loss of three hundred dollars to three
card monte men, on the Hudson River
R ilrord, the other day, and taking out
the other cards to show to a sympathizing
passenger how it was done, he awakened
so ranch interest among the men standing
around that in less than twenty minutes
he bad won a handsome sum. After he
had left they began to understand that
they had been gulled by the monte man
himself.
. „—*•* —•
It is proposed to have three more (local)
English Roman Catholic pilgrimages— one
to St. Hwithin’a shrine in Winchester; an
other to the shrine of St. Thomas, in Can
terbury; and a third to the shrine of St.
Edward the Confessor, in Westminster Ab
bey. It is proposed to have these pilgrim
ages organized “in honor of the Sacred
Heart, and of the agony in the Garden of
Olives. ”
The Boston Journal says; “The electoral
college has long outlived its day. Its faults
are too numerous to mention, and it lias
only been kept up to thin time by the ex
treme difficulty of agreeing upon a substi
tute.” The indications begin to point
pretty dearly to the fact that the constitu
tion will be so amended a* that the people
will vote directly for President,
Madame Janauseheck is one of the rich
est women in her profession, and is withal
generous with her money.
ItIHCKI.I. VXKOI'N AIIvr.HTISKMp:\TN.
L L. FALK & (().,
ONE PRICE
Wholesale and Retail
CLOTHING WAREHOUSE,
Corners Congreia, Whitaker and St. Julan Sta..
SAVANNAS!, GA.
-
A LARGE ASSORTMENT OF
!
FURNISHING GOODS,
HATS, TRUNKS,
VALICES, ETC.
Always on Ilaml.
Manufactory No. 48 Warren St. N. Y
lli-u im-Ii Himisv, ( linrl-to, B.C.
in ay 24-tf
GLEARTHETRACK
When the Whistle Illows.
S. S II A N D A L.
QUITMAN, - - - GEORGIA.
I
|
IF YOU WISH TO PURCHASE
c 111: i a oo ds
Of all descriptions, such as
DRY GOODS,
CLOTHING,
1100 TS AND SHOES,
GROCERIES,
HARDWARE,
TIN WARE, and
All other kinds of Goods you may need,
CaU and see for yourself before
Purchasing Else where.
We Guarantee to Sell as Low as Any One Else.
ma>24-ff
JAS. H. HUNTER,
ATTO RN E Y A T L, A\V ,
QUITMAN,
BROOKS COUNTY, GEORGIA.
Will practice in the Counties of the Southern
Circuit. Kelu.lh and Clinch of the Brunswick, nnl
Mitchell <<f tin: Albany, fly‘Office at the Court
IloiiHe.'fca june2B-tf
JAS. E. SHELDON,
COTTON FACTOR
—A$J>
Gen’l Commission Merchant
No. 102 Bay Street,
Bnvannah, - - - - Georgia.
Liberal Advances mads on Coneignnvmta.
ISA <> 01fTO, IRON Tins and ICO PE Furnished.
Correspondence and Consignments Solicited,
pro up r returns <; ha ha steep.
*cpß-3m
NUMBER 26.
MIMC KT.1.4 N Kora AIIVRHTiaKNKvrs.
SALE AND LIVERY STABLE,
Ga.
rjltlE UNDERSIGNED KEEP ON HAND
SADDLE HORSES,
HARNESS HORSES,
BUGGIES, CARRIAGES,
15tc., etc., etc.,
For the Accommodation (/the Public.
) HEY ALSO KEEP CONSTANTLY ON HAND
A GOOD SUPPLY OF
HORSES AND MULES
For Hale,
SELECTED BY ONE OF TIIE FIRM,
And Always Purchased on Sucn Terms as
to Enable Them to Sell at the
LOWEST PRICES.
PERSONS DEHIMNG TO PURCHASE
'SADDLE OR HARNESS HORSES
I
Can be Supplied upon Bhort Notice.
If not on hand, If a description of the stock
j wanted in left at the Stable the order will be filled
in a few days.
CECIL & THRASHER.
may!7-tf
CITY HOTEL,
QUITMAN, GEORGIA.
The Proprietor Ofter* Visitors
UNSUK I* ASS ED IN DL CEM ENTS.
ROOMS LARGE, WELL FURNISHED,
- AN D
- VENTILATED.
TABLE SUFFLIED WITH
!
! THE REST THE MARKET AFFORDS.
Polite and Obliging Servants.
HOUSE SITUATED CONVENIENT TO THE
Depot and the Buainces Portion of the Town.
D, U. MtXEAL, Proprietor.
mayl7 f
w. 11. BKNXErr. H. T. KIXIiSUEIIIIV.
BENNETT & KENGSBERRY,
Attorneys at Layv,
Q U IT M A N,
Brooks County, - Georgia.
juiie2B-tf
EDWARD 1. KAEDEH,
Attorney sit Jjaw,
UITM A N ,
BROOKS COUNTY, - - GEORGIA,
Late an Associate Justice Hwpmne Court, V.
S. for Utah and Nebraska Territorial; ho* .ludgr*
County Court, Brook* County, Oa .
vusyjf 32two
