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TIIE INDEPENDENT.
SATIRDAY, JASVIRY 3, t*?4.
J. C. GALLAHES, Editor and Proprietor.
Published Weekly at ** OO per Annum
la Aden nee.
Mingle Copies 5 eenta.
GOD’S HE YPEUS.
BY XUS. Pit. ADAMS.
The harvest is ended—the season is o’er—
And the reaper* one and all
Are hasting in from the fields once more,
To answer the Master’s t all:
Each heart is hill of the work he leaves,
As the solemn test draws near,
” Where hast thou wiped f and t chere are thy
sheaves *
The proojs qf thy toil this year ? n
*‘l labored," spake one, “amid garden bowers;
Myrrh, spices, and perfumes sweet;
I have brought of the choiciCTd fruits and flowers,
To lay at mv Master's feet.*
“I have toiled," said one, “amid mansions grand,
Whose coffers were full and free,'
And 1 gathered in w ith an eager hand
Earth’s treasures for Thee ami me.”
4 ‘l have fought." said one. “with the sons of men
Who are giants hi mind ami might:
And I vanquished the skeptic and scoffer then,
With the sword and the spirit of light.”
Another—“’tis little I bring my Lord,
Bnt mine was an earnest will;
Though my labor yield not a rich reward
/ trust—-and 1 tabor still !"
One—’twas & noble form I trow,
Though the furrows of grief ami care
Had left their impress on cheek and brow,
Vyt a wondrous pence was the re !
Ami his fcw r brief words were firm, though faint,
For bis strength was well nigh gone;
But his dauntless faith, cheeked nil complaint,
And the fire of love burned on!
•‘Master,” lie said, “mi untrodden ground,
The field of my toil has been;
I have worked my way to the utmost bound,
Of this wilderness of sin.
Few sheaves 1 gathered with anxious fears,
For briers and thorns destroy;
But where I have faithfully sowed in tears,
Another may reap with joy I”
A smile o'er the blessed Master's face,
With heavenly sweetness came.
And the tender tones of II is words of grace,
Set the reaper's heart aflame.
“Servant of Christ—w<-3 done! through life
Thv Saviour this pathway trod:
The harder the conflict, the pain, tin* strife,
The sweeter thy rest with God. ’
• #*♦*#*#
Oh ! reaper* of find, in the wide-spread field
Where all must toil and share.
Thy Maker shall be thy snn and shield,
As you gather His harvests there,
Fcnri tg the heat of the burdensome day,
The storm, and the hitter blast.
Eve r \oid hardships and losses say
“.V>, jmw e • my rest at last /”
Tbom.isyu.le. December fith, 1*73.
WHY HE CHANGED HJS MIND.
HV MACK.
Saponr.ppons 8ton" wna a millionaire
mu) a yatcliman. Jt was rt |>orti*tl of him
that in early life lie bad been a pci ijutiiotii;
initlicri r of the otaftirinoiiK refuse of kitrh
< nM;tlmt in liis tvimtl <-rings lie always nir
rietl with him a large tin vessel, and was
eontinually singing a melody the refrain
of which was “Snpe fate” whatever that
may be. The veracious chroniclers who
report the foregoing facts of ?.Tr
further depose that as years pas ed by Mr.
.Stone discarded the tin vessel and issued
forth from his residence each day with a
handcart, anil that in a short time he dis
posed of that, anil might be seen dinmnllv
urging onward with a stick an animate!)
skeleton which was supposed to be a horse.
Mhortly after this—so sav the worthy his
torians before mentioned—Mr. Stone was
missed from the scenes of his daily pere
grinations, and for some years no trace of
him could he found, until his name sud
denly appeared on the front of ala go
1 rick building announcing him as a man
ufacturer of soap and candles, and large
trucks bearing the information painted on
their sides might be seen loaded with box
es traversing the streets at all hours of the
day.
At the termination of the war Mr. Stone
retired from active business, bought a
magnificent residence a short ways from
the city and lived in the high style warran
ted bv his enormous wealth.
Only those who are wealthy oan afford to
have a hobby, and Saponaceous being a
millionaire, could have afforded to keep a
whole stable full of hobbies if he wanted
to, but as it was he had only one, and that
was yachts. His great desire to forget his
business and all connected with it may
have been the cause of his affection for
yachts, yachting, and the blue ocean, be
cause his late business having been in
grease, he pitched upon its exact opposite,
for everybody knows the irreconcilability
of gresse and water. Be that as it may.
Mr. Stone, was almost crazy on the regat
tas, yachts, sailors, and everything con
nected with the water. He shivered his
timbers instead of swearing, contracted a
bronchial affection from wearing his shirt
collar open in the neck, rolled around like
a poorly spun top when he walked, and in
short conducted himself in a most seanmn
like and nautical manner.
There were those among liis detractors
who said he knew nothing about yachts,
tides, or maritime affairs of any kind, and
that in fact Air. Stone, if lie but stepped
aboard his yacht when she was fast moored
to the dock, would be as much at sea as
though land were out of sight; but the
club to which he belonged and to which lie
bad donated twenty thousand dollars for a
club house, made him commodore, and we
all know he could not be a commodore
and be void of nautical knowledge—the
thing is impossible.
So Mr. Saponaceous Stone was celebra
ted as a vaentman, and was happy. He
mourned the fact that he had made all his
money on shore, and more, that if he hail
a dozen sons they should all have been
sailors; but as Airs. Stone bail been depos
ited in Greenwood some years before,
leaving but one child, and tliat a daughter,
Mr. S. was deterred from thus aiding the
commerce of his country, though, as a
setoff to the disappointment tliat the com
mercial world felt at not having the mari
time list increased by twelve Stones, he
swore that nobody but a true sailor should
wed his lovely daughter, and commanded
her on pain of being disinherited and see
ing all liis money cro to erect a sailors’ re
treat, to bestow her affections on no one
but a gallant son of Neptune.
This that worthy young lady would un
doubtedly have done if, unfortunately,
her affections bad not already been be
sfcowed on Reginald Ready, a poor but
worthy clerk in the office of her father’s
successors in the soap business. So all
in vain did the fair Olive Stone beseech
her father to relent and bless their union
ns well ns leave them bis money.
\;
VOLUME I.
‘Never I” roared the old ■ gentleman,
I “I’d sooner see von hung with u tiller
rope than convoyed for life to an ink
slinging lubber—’’
“But. father, I love him, and—and he
loves me,” entreated the girl.
“Avast there,” yelled the commodore.
“Stow that lingo, my pretty clipper, and
jibe jib—then go ou another tuck. Pick
out another tar, nud make this old salt
happy.”
Of course nil such conversations ns
these were only reported to the love strick
en Reginald by his faithful Olive, and dire
was the disappointment it wrought to
those young hearts.
“I am afraid," said Olive one day to
her lover "that we will have to give each
other up, for you kuow. Regie, we couldn't
live on your salary of one thousand a
year. ”
“False oue 1” said Reginald, “you love
another.”
"Yon wrong me, Regie, indeed you do,
You are cruel, too. Think of how I have
coaxed and coaxed and worried and wor
ried until I have almost made an enemy
of my own father,” said the girl weeping.
“Can you not coax once more?” asked
the young man.
“It would he useless,” replied the un
happy Olive; “it would he useless.”
“You decline to intercede further?”
questioned Reginald.
“I must, since I know it would be fu
tile,” she answered.
“Then I will do it!” cried the young
clerk.
“You !”
"Yes, I,’’said the ink-slinging lubber.
“You sav your father insists on your mar
rying a sailor ?”
“He does,” the girl replied.
"Well, when he asks you to marry me
will you do it *”
“Will I ? O, Regie !”
“Lnough. Ask me no questions; my
mind is made up. 1 will make the old
duffer recant. ” And with a kiss they sep
arated.
The next day, ns the commodore was
sitting in liis sung study, which lie denom
inated his cabin, ft servant came to hint,
and sail! there was a “sailor lookin’ man
as wanted to see him.”
“Ah ! show him in, show him in,” said
the commodore, delighted.
The s rvant left and soon returned u h
eriug in a rough looking fellow whose
hands and face were tanned almost black
by exposure to the elements. He was
dream din n dark blue pea jacket, wore
pants of the same color, and had a large
black inckcrcl iei tied loosely under a low
cut collar. He walked with I lint roll pe
culiar to theatrical sailors, wore bis tar
paulin hat very much on the back and one
side of his head, and as he entered his
jaws w ere w orking on un enormous quid
of tobacco like a sausage machine. “What
cheer sbipmet ?” lie te ked in a voice of
thunder. “Sling us a hawser if you want
me to come up alongside there, that’s
hearty,” he added when the commodore
had shaken hands with him. “My name
is Ned Ratlin, eotm times called Rattlin'
Nd. I'm rated on the ship's Isadoras so
cond mate, and I'm as tough an old salt
as ever chawed tobacco, or nibbled a
ship’s biscuit. Now you know me,” he
concluded, “tip ns vour tin.”
“I’m glad to know you, Mr. Ratline,”
said the commodore rather ill at ease;
“hut,” said he, looking first at 1 is visitor
and then at the velvet <■ rpot, “couldn’t
von—a- a spit in the spittoon ?”
“What !” yelled the sailor, jumping up
and making a motion as though lie were
going to catch the commodore by the
throat. “I'm Ned Ratline, a tough old
salt, and if any lubberly yucht-.sajlin’ son
of a so \-cook dictates to me w hether I’ll
spit on the deck or not I’ll tow him ashore
on a grating.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Ratline,” in
terrupted the commodore; “I merely
meant to say that if you did spit on deck
it might be more—a —a—pleasant if you
expectorated somewhat, less than a quart
and perhaps you would not object to throw
away your tobacco and take a glass of
g r ‘g ; ”
“Now, cap’ll, you talk; I’m a rough old
Jack Tar, but- when you treat, me square
I’m square myself,” said* the tough old
salt, setting down again, “and to show
you I’m above board, J beg your pardon
and the decks, and if you’ll pass the word
for swabs we’ll make all taut and ship
shape. And now here goes to unload;”
with that the rough old Jack Tar removed
a half pound or so of “navy” from his
mouth and slung it up against the wall,
where it stuck and decorated the satin
paper with drippings of a handsome dark
brown color.
“Ry Heaven, sir, what do you think I
am ?” yelled the commodore, gazing at
the ruin done to his wall paper.
“Take it easy, cap’ll; don’t get excited,”
said Mr. Ratline. “Take in a reef,” lie
added, helping himself to brandy. “Now,
enp'n,” lie continued, after drinking two
or three glasses, “1 hoard about you a
long way from here, an* I says to myself
‘as soon as I reach port I’ll crowd nil sail
for the commodore,’ very well, here I am.
Now pass the word for your daughter.”
“What. V” roared the commodore.
“Pass the word for your daughter. I
heerd yon wanted her to be spliced to a
sailor. I’m a tough old salt, a rough old
Jack Tar, audits good a sailor as ever trod
a plank. Pass the word first for the
young ’mi and then for the parson, and
I’ll marry her right here.”
“You will, will you ?” sneered the com
modore.
“Yes, cap’n; that’s what I came here
for,” answered Mr. Ratline.
“Well, now, go away again. Get out of
this house sir. Get out. of this home!”
yelled the commodore, thoroughly angry.
“Keep her close to the wind, cap, and
don’t rile me, ’cause when I’m riled I’m a
hurricane.” And Mr. Ned Ratline again
helping himself to brandy said: “Be lively
cap’n, I want to see the gal I’m going to
hitch alongside.”
“Who said you could marry her?” de
manded the commodore, trying to restrain
his anger.
“I said so,” answered the sailor “Aral
I’m going to do it or call me a lubber.
I’in Ned Ratline.”
“I don’t care if yr u’re Ratline,or catline,
or dogline, or cowline or clothes-line, I say
you won’t marry my daughter,” interrupt
ed the irate old gentleman.
“I say you lie, I will,” said Mr. Rat
line.
“Don’t tell me a lie.”
“Yes, I will.”
“You will V”
“Yes, you lie.”
“There !” yelled the commodore, aiming
a blow at the sailor, who parried it with the
brandy bottle, and, without much exer
tion. knocked the old man down.
QUITMAN, GA„ SATURDAY, JANUARY J, 1874.
"Get out of my house, you villain 1”
cried the commodore,jumping up. "Leave
that brandy alone, you scoundrel, leave
it alone—do yon hear?” and the excited
old man seized the goblet from Mr. Rat
line’s hands, and threw it. on the door, with
force enough to break it in a hundred
pieces.
”(), that's your game, is it ?" said Mr.
Ratline, and with that lie tired the bottle
at the mirror, breaking both; followed up
by shying the inkstand through the w in
dow, and the paper weight at the decan
ters on the sideboard, and then, picking
up a heavy chair, he began to hammer the
chandelier, while, through the crash and
noise, the commodore’s voice might be
heard veiling “Help ! John, l’ctcr, Wil
liam ! Help ! Murder !?
This brought the servants on the scene.
"Put that man out !” ordered the com
modore.
The servants rushed to sieze Mr. Rat
line.
"Sheer off, messmates—sheer off,” said
that gentleman; I can dear without a pi
lot;” and so saving lie walked juit and
through the garden. There, in a summer-,
house, was seated the beimtious Olive, a
prey to melancholy. Seeing her, Mr.
Ratline walked in, seized her by the arm,
and whispered a few words to her. She
said bless von dear Regie," and ( lie sailor,
first embracing her, walked away.
That evening the commodore came into
the parlor where his daughter was seated
reading, mid said to her
“Mv dear, do you love that young
Ready ?”
“Yes, father, dearly."
“And you think you would be happy
with him ?”
"Oh, so happy, father."
“Well, my dear, I've changed my mind
somewhat about sailors, and—a —a—you
can order your wedding trousseau as soon
as you please."
—-—....
[From (lie Uoselnirg (Oregon) Pluindealer.]
The Best Bear Story of the Season.
A eorrospupilent, writing from Uanyon
ville, send* us the following interesting
incident, which occurred near that place:
About ten <lnvs since Henry Blunu and
his wife, of Canyomilh* Precinct, went
out into the mountains to look after their
sheep. When about three miles from
home his two dogs got after a hear, and
after a severe chase, succeeded in com
pelling tin- bear to climb a tree*. About
the time that Air. bland and his wife
rendu and the foot of the tree another fe
rocious bear suddenly put in an appearance
and sitvagfly attacked the dogs in the
immediate presence of Mr. and Mrs.
Bland. The fight now became unlimited
and furious, dogs and bertr rolling over
each other in the death struggle down a
steep mountain into the canyon below.
Bland was armed with a Henry rifle, but
dared not shoot for four of killing his dogs.
Now came the question how to rescue the
dogs; only two cartridges were in the rifle
and these bid to be u c l to the b \st advan
tage. Mrs. Bland urged her husband to
goto the assistance of the dogs, while* she,
alor.t- and unarmed, undertook to keep
the ferocious monster up the tree. Tie
started down into the canyon to where
the conflict was raging, guided bv the
growls and yelps of the dogs and bear.
Hi* arrived not a moment too soon fur
Bruin was evidently getting the best of it.
and would only bo pacified by the last
shot, from the now empty rifle.
It was dark when Bland returned to his
wife at the foot of the tree. The situation
was anything but flattering. The empty
rifle was of little use, and upon the resolu
tion of Mrs. Bland to sit. up with the bear,
I he started for home for more ammunition.
The lady being reinforced by the bleeding
dogs, now felt that she was mistress of the
situation. With no fire, far from home,
in the midst of craggy mountains, this
indomitable lady dared to hold at bay one
:of the most ferocious monsters of the
forest. The bear, not liking liis new
home, determined to descend the tree,
hut our heroine, with a stick and the bark
ing of the dogs, compelled Bruin to take
• a sober second thought, and, taking up
his position on a lower limb, with eyeballs
of fire he stared at the scene below. But
our huntress was not dismayed by the
| presence of her horrible companion, but
stood guard until about ten o’clock, when
j her husband and another man came to her
j assistance. Bhe then started for home
through the deep canyons and gorges of
the mountains, entirely alone, and it was
midnight when she sorely arrived at her
own dwelling.
The next morning, as soon an it was
sufficiently light, the hear was shot. He
1 proved to be one of the largest of those
known us the cinnamon variety.
[From the Helena (Montana) Gnzott .]
Legend of A Bad Indian.
A long, long time ago, according to the
traditions of the Flathead Indians, they
went once a year to hunt Buffalo, just as
they now do, and their trials were the
same up the Hell Gate and Little Black
foot and down Ten Mile. The present
site of Helena was a favorite camping
place. “In those days,” according to one
of the chiefs of said tribe well versed in
its legi ncl ary love, “there was one of the
Flathead braves who was a bad Indian;
lie had no respect for the virtue of the
; beautiful Indian maidens; he wus a reg
ular horso jockey- made races for ponies
and buffalo robes, all on the square, and
then ‘doped* his opponent’s fleet bron
cho; he played that ancient and respected
game of “old sledge” in such a dexterous
manner as to vanquish all his adversaries,
who never could account for the maimer
in which lie “turned jack;” he had away
of “boldin’ cm” at draw poker that made
liis red brethren swear in the most ap
proved Flathead jargon; in short, he was
a “very bad Indian.” Once upon a time,
when they wore camped on the little
stream where Helena is now situated, on
their way to hunt buffalo, the devil “call
ed” for the wicked brave, and told him his
time had come, and that he must accom
pany him to the unhappy hunting grounds
of had Indians. The Indian told the
wicked Spirit that he had some business
matters to arrange with other braves of
the tribe, such as a few collections to make
etc., and tliat if his Satanic majesty would
i go out to the present site of Wusswciller’s
hot springs, he would come as soon as the
wind quit blowing. The devil agre ed to
the terms, and departed to await the lull
ing of the wind and the coming of the
| brave. As the wind has never quit blow
ing, his victim has never appeared, and
the Indians say the devil is still camped,
there, and tliat the hot water oftliesprings
jis taken from tlie waters of Ten Mile for
fuse in his camp, from whence it emerges
i in its present heated state,
THE DOCTOR'S LAST SHOT.
I!Y MRS. A. W. CURTIS.
Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Drown worn having
a very comfortable afternoon together.
Mrs. Smith, who was an invalid, or thought
herself one, which is just ns hud, was .re
clining in an oiwy-oliair, and Mrs. Brown,
wlio had run in with her knitting work
just to see how she was, hud been persuad
ed to spend the rest, of (lie day with her
friend.
"Ve, Mrs. Brown, I consider it provi
dential. That poor niece of mine Wits left
an orphan on the cold charities of (lie
world, and 1 was the only friend she lmd,
she came right here, of course. Well,
here I am in such delicate health, needing
constant attention, and I couldn’t expect
my own girls, poor dears, to ho fussing
around tlicir sick mother all the time. I
want them to enjoy themselves while they
ean. This poor thing needed a home, and
I gave it to her at once. I said, ‘of eortrse,
child, come right Here and live with us.
You run make yourself useful, no doubt,
land it'll all be right. ’ She's been here six
, months now, and Inis been a wonderful
’ help to ini', 1 keep her busy from day
light until dark to keep her mind off her
I troubles, you know, and nights when 1
can't sleep it’s dreadful handy to have her
where she can rub my back, souk my feet,
! bathe my head, and read me to sleep.”
"Do you pay lu r wages V”
“Bless me, no ! She said something
about it one day as if shn expected to be
paid for her w ork, but 1 (old her we
I couldn't think of hiring our own blood le
litions to work for lis. I told her to just
I be easy about that, w henever she needed
anything we’d see about it. She gave me.
a kind of a queer smile that 1 didn't un
derstand or like; but, on (he whole, she is
wonderful quiet and gentle like, and 1 cou
j sider il areal l’rovidemo.”
I “Where is she now ?
i I sent her down to the hack pasture to
get some blackberries for mv tea. 1
| thought maybe I’d relish them if they were
I fresh.”
Down in the back pasture she was, the
poor niece,Meta Lnngdon, lmt not picking
blackberries. She was sitting on a mossy
log among the bushes crying as if her
heart would break. It did her good; it
cook'd the fierce fever in her heart, and
she finally grew quiet and slipped softly
I down upon her knees and prayed long ami
! earnestly for patience and wisdom and help
from her Heavenly Father. Then she
caught up her pail and rose to commence
her task. But it so happened that Doctor
I Chester, who was spending a few weeks
in that delightful country place, was out
i hunting that day. A fine, plump part
; ridge flew up from the bushes just at that
I moment, and the Doctor fired. To his as
! touishnient the bird escaped, but a shrill
(.scream and a heavy fall beyond tie* busli
-les made him throw down liis gun and
i bag and rush furiously through the sharp
briars, never heeding the rents they made
in his line hunting suit or the cruel scratch -
; es upon his fact' and hands.
There lay the game he had brought
■ down, in the > hope of a young girl who was
! in a dead faint or killed for aught lie
i knew. lie quickly loosened her dn ss and
dashed water in her fact' from U full can
teen which lie* happened to have, and final
ly forced a few drops of brandy betwe en
her ips. At length she opened her eyes,
to his great relief, and tried to rise, lmt a
sharp cry of pain showed there was some
thing more serious than a mere fright.
“What is it, where are you hurl V”
“My arm,” she exclaimed.
He tore the hided calico sleeve open to
tin* shoulder, and sun* enough, the soft,
white arm was covered with blood and
seemed to be riddled with shot.
“Dear, dear, what have I done!” he ex
claimed, hastily tying his own and her
handkerchiefs tightly around it. “There’s
no time for apologies or explanations. 1
thought 1 was shooting a partridge, and
in some unaccountable way I have shot
you Now toll me where you live so 1 can
get you home as soon as possible. lam a
physician, aiul we’ll soon have the poor
min all right again.”
“My home is just over the hill; I can
walk if you will help me a little.” With
a set, resolute face, aiul lips tightly closed
t> keep back the moans of pain, Meta
walked hastily towards home leaning upon
h s arm. But just as they reached the
gate she fainted again, and taking her in
his arms he bore*, her rapidly to the house,
and without any ceremony pushed open
the parlor door and laid her upon a sofa.
Mrs. Smith screamed murder at the top
of her voice, and went into violent hyster
ics. The doctor frowned scornfully at
her, and said to Mrs. Brown: “There’s no
time for nonsense; bring me some cold
water ami bandages at once, and send
j somebody to tbe hotel for Dr. (Tester's
| small case of surgical instruments.”
Mrs. Smith, left to herself, soon recov
ered, and insisted on an explanation of the
affair.
“It’s nothing serious, I hope, I have ac
cidentally sent a charge of shot into this
young lady’s arm. Are you her mother ?”
“No, inde.ai, she is a poor dependent
creature that we’ve taken in for charity’s
sake; a niece of mine, and what I am to
do with her now I can’t tell. I can’t take
care of her, and indeed, sir, it’s mighty
inconvenient to have her laid tip just at
this time. She is very necessary to my
comfort. I need a sight of care and
wailin’ on, night and day.”
“Well, madam, slie’ll need a sight of
care and waitin’ on herself now for a while,
and must have it.”
By this time the girl revived again un
der the vigorous treatment she received,
and the instruments were brought to him.
“Now, madam, will you tell where to
take this young lady, for she must he put
to bed at once. ”
“Well, she sleeps in a little closet off
my room ”
“That will never do. Show me the
largest, best room you have in the house.
Taking Meta gently in his arms, the doc
tor followed Mrs. Smith up stairs to a
large pleasant chamber. She groaned in
spirit as she turned down the white coun
terpane, and assisted the doctor in getting
Meta undressed and into bed; but he was
not to be trifled with at such a time.
“Now, uiadanie, I will excuse you, but
let Mrs. Brown bring me plenty of warm
water and soft, old linen, and remain to
assist me. And l want a servant close at
hand to get whatever else J may require
while dressing the arm.”
It was a terrible hour to Mela while he
probed each wound and removed the shot
that were deeply imbedded in the tender
flesh. Fortunately no bone was broken,
and at last it was neatly bandaged with
soft linen and wet with a healing lotion,
and sho fell asleep. Mrs. Brown proved
nil efficient helper; and ns they passed
quietly out of the room tho doctor said; |
“My patient must have the best of care ;
and attention, ('mild you stay and nurse I
her for a while ?"
“Yes, l might."
“Very well; I will pity you well if you
w ill do it, for everything w ill depend upon 1
keeping her quiet now.”
| lie met Mrs. Smith in tho hull.
“Madam, this woman has consented to
i stay and take euro of your niece, and 1
will sec that she is paid for it. But mind
what I say: you must not see her, nor
must any one else see her but Mrs. Brown
and myself for a week at least, for she
will have a serious time of it at the best.
| 1 regret it exceedingly, more than I can
tell yon, that 1 have been the cause of all
this suffering, and will do my best to have
I her about again as soon as possible," So
saying, (he doctor wished them good-day,
j ami (toon disappeared from their view.
"Well, now, if that, isn't cool I And
| what am 1 to do all this time ?” groaned
Mrs. Smith, rocking herself vigorously in
i her great arm-chair. “And my best spare
I room, too. Say, did ho muss everything
' up dressing that arm ?”
“<> no I ho was very careful about,
that.”
“Well, that's a comfort any way. To !
think I should have such trouble with that
girl just when I needed her most I” 1
think it is a very mysterious dispensation
of Providence. ”
The next morning tlio doctor found
Meta in a high fever, moaning with pain j
and delirious. The arm was badly swol
len and inflamed, and altogether her case
laid assumed a very alarming aspect, lie
did not go hunting nr fishing that day, hut
.stayed by her ladside administering medi
cine with his own hand, and doing every
thing in Ids power for her relief. He was j
greatly distressed over the accident, mid :
inwardly vowed he would never fire ofi
another gun ns long as lie lived.
Hut wimt a revolution of toil, hardship,
and cruel wrong the unconscious Meta
made in her delirium. She fancied the
doctor, us lie bathed her hot head and
hands and soothed her ass Tie would a
child, was her mother, and she drew his
head close to his lips and whispered:
“O mother ! I’m so glad von have come
for me! I am tired to death. Auntie
has no mercy or feeling for me ! She lias
kept me at work over her night and day,
and I've gone hungry many and many a
: time because I couldn’t bear to cat the
| food so grudgingly given. Olam so glad
you have conic I”
Now Meta was not a beautiful girl,
1 t hough she had a sweet, pure, womanly
! face, aud great wistful eyes, and an nbtiu
i dance of dark silky hair. But her small
hands were brown and hardened with toil;
! she was poor, dependent, alone in the
world, except for this selfish, unnatural
aunt, and the cousins who scarcely deigned
to notictrher.
Doctor Chester was a rich old bachelor,
not so very old either, only thirty-six.
Why he had never married no one could
toll, but true it is be lmd remained heart
whole all these years in spite of the many
beautiful women wlip bad smiled mo t
graciously upon him. But somehow this
poor suffering orphan won his heart com
pletely during that woelir of unconscious
ness. He was charmed with her sweet
prattle about her childhood; and her in
nocence and helplessness, together with
the suffering he lmd so unwittingly caused,
appealed strongly to liis sympathy, and he
fully resolved to win her love and make
her his wife if possible. Never had a
patient ft more assiduous doctor and nurse
than did poor Meta. Mrs. Smith fumed
and fretted over all the fuss that they
made about.“tliat girl,” until the doctor
frightened her into silence by telling her
that he knew how she had treated the
poor child, and if she didn’t keep quiet
and have everything done that was need
ful for her comfort he would have her ar
rested and tried for inhuman cruelty.
Under liis watchful earn the danger was
soon over, and Meta was pronounced
convalescent.. The doctor took her out
to ride as soon as slie was able, in the
easiest of all carriages. Rare delicacies
were sent every day from the hotel to
tempt, her returning appetite. The sweet
est, and most fragrant flowers that could
be found adorned her room. Meta re
monstrated with him for all this lavish
kindness, hut lie would silence her by say
ing )u* was the cause of all her suffering
and she must ullow him to atone for it in
every way he could. Ilow eagerly he
watched the faint color that crept into her
cheeks at liis approach. How tenderly
and delicately he ministered to her com
fort, and pleasure day by day, until at last
he ventured to tell her of his love and liis
great desire to have her for lifs own. He
had become very dear to her during all
those weeks of suffering, and she ac
knowledged it and promised to he liis
wife. He hastened to inform Mrs. Smith
of their betrothal, and asked her forbear
mice for another week when, he assured
her, lie would relieve her from all further
care and responsibility of her niece.
Imagine if you can her ust nishment. She
was completely “dumbfounded I” and had
not a word to say; though doubtless in
her heart sin* thought it another most
“mysterious dispensation. ”
The next day* a notable dressmaker
from the city arrived with various won
derful and costly fabrics, which she had
orders to make up for Miss Lnngdon in
the latest style. Such a time as there was
then of cutting arid busting, of trying on
and trimming! Two other seamstresses
kept their sewing-machines running at the
highest rate of speed, until at the close of
the week there was enough of a wedding
trousseau to till a huge Saratoga trunk.
The doctor made daily pilgrimages be
tween that chamber and the city, until at
last he could not devise another tiling
w hich his darling could possibly need for
dress or ornament during the trip to Kii
rope which he had planned. Never was
there a happier bride and groom than
those who were made one in Mrs. Smith’s
parlor that bright September looming.
They went immediately to liis beautiful
borne on the Hudson, w here liis mother
received the new daughter with open arms,
and soon after went to Europe, where they
spent a year. Meta made good use of the
time by putting herself under the care of
the best private teachers, and when on
their return the happy doctor presented
his wife to liis friends, there was not
among them one more highly accomplished
or more elegant and refined. The doctor
was very proud of her, and never tired of
telling ids intimate friends how lie found
liis wife, or the result of liis last shot. —
Hearth and Home.
+
To curb a fast young man Bridal
him.
[Oakland (Oregon) (lorrospnmleut of the Chicago !
Intur-Orenn.]
The “Madatone" A Real Cure.
In a recent issue of your paper I saw mi
article headed “The Mad Stone A Yen j
table Care of Hydrophobia Cured. ” It in
terested me, and for the benefit of those !
who are inclined to doubt the existence
and efficacy of such stones permit mo to
tell you of a ease which came under my
personal observation.
Several years ago I lived in Northwest
Missouri, and at that time had a sou aged
about six years, who was bitten by a rabid
dog. The wound was an ugly one upon
the nrm, between tho elbow and tho shoul
der. \Y e were greatly frightened, as you
may imagine, and were at a loss what an
tidote to apply. YVe lmd heard of two
mad stones in the possession of a Mrs.
Hardin, a lady living at Council llluff,
lowa. Asa forlorn hope my husband
started after these stones. Ho rode on
horseback night and day, and returned
from his mission with the mudstones on
the fifth day after the bite.
We had hut little confidence in such
remedies. The wound nearly healed, and
wo were directed to shave or scrape the
surface about it slightly, so that the [mis
would ooze out, hut not so that the blood
would fiuw. YYo applied one of tin
stones, and, strange to relate, it would
seem to fasten itself to the wound. For
the first few days it would remain upon the
wound, absorbing all the pus, or matter,
which Unwed out, for a short time, and
would then detach itself and drop off. Af
ter a time it. took longer for the pores to
fill, and consequently, tlm stone would
stick for a correspond.ugly greater pi -
rioil.
The last application was on the thir- j
teeuth day after the bite, nud then the |
stone stuck for forty-eight hours, and j
would adhere no longer. After each up- :
plication we washed and thoroughly clean
ed the stone iu warm water. MradimHy,
as tin- stone seemed to draw the poison
out of the [ins, it made for itself a cavity !
in the arm, sinking deeper at each appli- j
cation. At last it had quite tinned itself,
and a putrid sore formed, which had a
very offensive smell, hut which finally
healed. During the whole operation the
patient w as quite sick, and grew very pule
and weak, his whole nervous system seem
ing shattered. Jle fully recovered at last
and never afterward manifested any signs
of the malady refilling from the bite.
But you limy enquire how we know that
the dog was mud. 1 myself saw it mani
fest all tin symptoms of hydrophobia. It
was seen to bite two hogs, and both of
them became mad, one of them in two
weeks and tho other iu three w eeks. Wo
let them rave for a few days, aud then
shot them.
The stone that we used was about an
inch and a half long, half an inch iu di
ameter aud of n light gray color. It was
porous, resembling in many respects pieces
of coal that I have seen. Where it was
found I do not know, nor can I give its
theological classification. Certain it is it
cured our boy, as my husband and many
others can testify.
Mrs. N. Bice.
The Postmaster at Oakland endorses the
above communication by saying: “1 know
that the lady is truthful, as my acquain
tance with her for fourteen years justi
fies.”
—— - •♦-
“A New York paper nays that fa Bald-:
headed man will many three times to any j
other man’s once, all things Doing even.'*
The gentleman who runs the bald-headed
department of this concern requests us to !
declare that he can whip the Now York j
paper that says it, no matter which it is.
Courier-Journal.
BUSINESS (WEBS.
JAS.H. HUNTER,
ATTOII \E Y A T LA\V ,
ITMAN,
BROOKS COUNTY, O' BORGIA.
M
Will practice in the Counties of the Southern
Circuit, Echols and Clinch of the Brunswick, and
Mitchell of the Albany. 4<rOfticu at the Court
House.'6* ’ jum-28-tf
W. B. BENNETT. S. T. KINOHBEKKY
BENNETT & KINGSBERRY,
Attorneys at Law
q UIT M A N,
Brooks Comity, - Georgia.
jtine2B-tf
EDWARD R. HARDEN,
Attorney at Law,
qUIT3I A N ,
BROOKS COUNTY, ■ - GEORGIA.
O
Late an Associate Justice Supreme Court U.
S. for Utah and Nebraska Territories; nowJudg
County Court, Brooks County, Ga.
mav24~l2mo
J. a N. SNOW,
JIKXTIWT,
Quitman, ----- Georgia,
Office Up Stairs, Finch's Corner.
nug2- 4 Mm
DR. E. A. JELKS,
PIMCTISING PHYSICIAN,
< £ nitirui 11. (i a.
OFFICE- Brick building adjoining the store ot ■
Messrs. Briggs, Jilts A Cos., Screven street.
xnaylGtf
CL OTHING,
c. 31. BROWN, of Florida,
-WITH—
WEI LEER & BRO.,
274 W. Baltimore St., Baltimore, Md,
aug2ff-4m
BEDELL & CO.,
L i 11 <> i* Dealers;
AND
TOBACCO AGENTS,
140 BROAD STREET,
COLUMBUS, GA.
no v‘29-if
NUMBER 35.
MISt ELLAXEOL'S Alt VEK TISEMEXTS.
CITY HOTEL,
QUITMAN, GEORGIA.
The Proprietor Oilers vo Visitors
V NSI K PASSEI) INDUCEMENTfV
ROOMS LARGE, WELL FURNISHED,
AHD -
THOROUGHLY VENTILATED.
TABLE SUrrUKD WITH
s
THE BEST THE MARKET AFFORDS.
Polite and Obliging Servants.
If USE SITUATED CONVENIENT TO THE
Depot and the Business Portion of the Town.
I). U. JIcNKAL, Proprietor.
mnvl7 *f
T. EPSON HOWELL
New Carriage Manufactory.
mHE UNDERSIGNED TAKES PLEASURE
1 in announcing to tho public that ho has
opened a
CARRIAGE, BUGGY and WAGON
MA A I FACT< >lf V
IN QUITMAN, GEORGIA,
(Near the Market)
And in now prepared to do all work in that line
as neat a* it cun bo done in the South.
REPAIRING AND JOB WORK
WILL BE DONE AT SHORT NOTICE
Painting and Trimming
CANNOT BE EXCELLED IN GEOR
GIA.
My principal wood workman ia
Mr. 11l HAM FRETVVELL,
an old and experienced "workman.
All work will bo clone promptly and on reasona
ble terms, and warranted.
Please give me a call before you give your work
to others.
sepu-lm T. EPSON HOWELL.
Mc€A LL & GBOOVEB,
QUIT MA N, G A.,
Dealers in
DRUGS, MEDICINES, CHEMICALS,
Fine Toilet Soap, Fancy Hair and Tooth Brushes,
Perfumery and Fancy Toilet Articles,
Trusses mill Shoulder Bruces,
FRESH GARDEN SEEDS.
Paints, Oils, Varnishes & Dye-Stuffs.
Letter Paper, Pins, Ink, Envelopes,
WINDOW GLASS , of all sizes ,
Putty, Carbon Oil, Lamps and Chimneys.
Physicians Prescriptions Accurately Compounded.
Shot, Powdiji, Pebcdbsiox Cats, Tobacco^
Jy 12-1 V Snuff and Cigars.
HENRY & JOHN PAREt
Wholesale
CLOTHING HOUSE,
376 & 378 Broadway, Corner White St.,
TV eav \ < >i*lc ,
Constantly Keep on Hand a Large and Well Se
lected Stock of
MEN’S, YOUTH’S
AXP
HOY’S CLOTHING.
TIU House 1m represented by JOHN 11.
WHITE, of Griffin, Ga., who will visit
the Merchants of Georgia, Alabama and
Florida.
jtl2l-tf
NEW STOCK.
riNHE UNDERSIGNED HAVING PURCHASED
I in pernon in the Eastern Cities, a large on l
well assorted stock of
GENERAL MERCHANDISE,
is now prepared to offer peculiar inducements to
his many customers and the public generally.
His stock embraces a complete variety at
Dry Goods. Ready Made Clothing,
Hats, Cans, Boots and Shoes,
Hardware, T in ware.
Crockery and Glass war#*.
All kinds of Wood ware auff
A COMPLETE ASSORTMENT OF
F A ill IL Y (IROCBH'IB^
all of which he offers ou the most reasonuM^
1 terms. D. It. CREECH.
Jr