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The rumiira ran throughout the camp
AU Might. Wo dreamed we hoard the
tramp : * s \ - ' , i '
-YOUR-
The durknees had intuhslflfd
Of A’oet grim hosts Qn every aide. ■
No than could eay in our suspense
Just who surrounded us, or whenoe
Had come the foe whose end ices ranks
Of horse and foot were on our flanks..
% Unseen, at the first fall of night,
‘Cannon had leaped to every height,
And serpent earthworks, mound on mound.
Engraved and looped and roped us round.
The mist was like a choking path
The ghost of some grave’s tmirhlo wall
Against our faces, and therein
We were like insects (‘lamped, within
Moon colored amber. And so We
Felt the wide dawn we could not see
Soak through the air. The very ground
Was hid. and only by the sound
Could each man know hi* fellow’s place;
No one therein saw any lace.
We armed and horsed us rank on rank.
Vague noises and our saber's clank
Sounded a dull and weary din
Whore scabbard’s glitter should have been.
And splendors of the gathering storms
Of sleek hides and bright.uniforms.
Creak lugs anti orders all then seem
Like shadow sounds Inside a dream.
And yet beyond theso sounds are heard
Murmurs whereof we catch no word;
And from afar large whispers spread
And meet among us overhead.
As if some numberless arroy
Were rustling toward us as Its prey.
It was broad day now. In so far
That the fog had more light to bar.
Cannon spoke loud arimml; but they
Told only that our danger lay
Unseen on every side. How great
It was nrt guess could penetrate.
The temper und the lust of tight
Grew in uk with the growing light;
And then the mist waxed dun with smoke.
The air stirred, the Im/.e almo.-t broke;
We caught blurred glimpses of tin* hills-
Of men on them like tite wheat that thrills
Under n wind. No rider Hi Irrcd,
Astride we waited for the word.
And when It came our sabers (lushed.
Our war cry rang, the crushed:
Hoofs thundered as spurs tore and gored.
Our colored torrent leapt and roared
Whither we knew not. against whom,
Nor why, nnr to what goal or doom.
Toward the horizon least enlarged
Our glad from wheeled, aud then we
charged. .
—Edward Lucas White In Now York Hun.
CALL AT THE-
|We pfter a full line of
Ladies' ancl‘ Gents’
SLIPPERS
hn Plush, Alligator and
Ouze. A full line of
good and re
liable
toes, Shoes, Shoes;
‘or the Ladies, Gents,
Ijsses and Children. All
Qected specially for the oc-
sion.
lA full line of Leather Bags,
Rinks, Umbrellas, etc., etc,,
popular prices.
SIGN GOLD BOOT.
A CRUEL REVIEW.
LL. WIGHT* GO.
Washington Street, Albany, 6a.
LET’S TAKE t SIDE!
The
Barnes Sale and Livery
Stables,
1m. Godwin
PROPRIETORS.
H is new buggies and the best oi
I ho:ses, and will furnish you a turn-
[ out at very reasonable prices. Ac-
emmodations for drovers unex-
[led. These stables are close to
f Hotel Mayo, on Pine street, being
| centrally located, and the best
place in town to put up your team.
Gall on us for your Sunday tura-
nts. *
WM, GODWIN & SC
He cut it up root and branch—of
that there can be no doubt. He
gave it what he technically atylod “a
slating." and ns he threw down his
pen and leaned back in bis chair he
muttered, "l think I've pretty woll
settled that dunce’s business!"
He was n very clever young man—
a little too obtrusively clever per
haps to be an ideal critic; he was
not content to.pnss by feebleness and
folly with a fow tnild. pitying words
of condemnation; lutJJjilS. at them
with all hiH skill and force, with
that weapon which is “mightier than
the sword," pierced them again and
again with portal wounds. Many a
young author, talcing up a damp,
fresh copy of The Censor from the
breakfast table and searching eager
ly for a review of his beloved novel,
had read such scathing sentences,
such cruel witticisms, such merciless
mockery as had caused him to lay
down the paper with trembling
hand, damp, pale brow and with
strangled heart, to push his untasted
repast from him and to feel that for
him breakfast, luncheon, tea, dinner
and supper were henceforth ex
ploded institutions.
Some | foil: might think that there
was all the less excuse for his sever
ity, in that just then George Charl
ton’s prospects were looking particu
larly bright in every way. His post
on that prosperous paper, The Censor,
was an assured one. A five act play
of his had just been_ accepted ‘ by
Adolphus Bolingbroke', lessee and
manager of the great Omnium
theater, and yesterday his own beau
tiful, adored Gertie had confided to
him, on being tenderly pressed upon
the subject, (jiat June was her fa
vorite month of the year and that
Thursday was her favorite day of
the week.
Considering all things, therefore,
some might say that he ought to
have been kinder to the author of
Seared Hearts,” but the higher our
spirits with the more zest do we ply
our different callings, and it was pos
sibly because the man George Charl
ton was in a particularly bright and
happy mood that the critic George
Charlton was particularly “fit," and
consequently particularly merciless
to trash and twaddle.
The book, as it happened, came be
fore him at an unlucky moment;
and in truth “Seared Hearts” was a
foolish, feeble, flashy story, with
ethereal, impossible heroine and wild,
reckless, Greek profiled hero com
plete; forced situations and weak, in
flated style; forced views of life:
characters like nothing, and he pre
pared accordingly to give it, in his
already quoted phrase, “a slating."
Never was author flayed more merci
lessly.
“This story,” said Charlton, “in a
more marked degree than any we
can remember, seems to have been
written for the express purpose of
showing what the author cannot do.
Can any one inform ns why it is that
the Writers (save the mark I) who
have not even the talent to describe
everyday occurrences' with a touch
of humor or of pathos, to draw
commonplace character with toler
able truthfulness, are generally those
who undertake to show us life in its
most tragic aspect and the human
heart in its stormiest,.most passion
ato workings? ‘Hugh Ellis’.is a mas
culine cognomen, but we doubt if
the worst masculine literary sinner
ever perpetrated, quite jo much folly
ok lies between the ornate covers,
sprinkled With' slightly scorched
hearty, of the work before us. ’The
mob of gentlemen who write with
ease' have, since Pope’s day. been
supplemented by on equally large
mob' of ladies who write, alas I with
even greater ease, and it is among
the ranks of these, we fnney, that
the author of ‘Seared Hearts’ is to be
found,”
"For shame, Charlton I" we fane;
a ehoniH of feminine voices crying:
“if you suspect the book to tie from
a Woman’s hand, have you the heart
to cut it up: You. so gallant, so de
voted to us. so popular a squire of
dames I"
Ah. ladies! He has his answer
ready for you.
"Nonsense, my dear girlsl No
man is more devoted to women than
I: but when you come before me us
novelists you cease to tie women,
and whou 1 poise my critical scalpel
in hand 1 reuse to be a! mnn-voyez
vousl Introduce gallantly und ehiv
airy into the arts and there is an end
of nil honest criticism."
And taking up his pen again he
goes for that unfortunate novel.
- "Tiie hero of 'Seared Heaits,’
probably the ’most absurd creation
that ever walked the world of fiction
—even of Indies' fiction — possesses, we
are informed, ’darkling, fateful, in
satiable eyes ’ \Vhut does this mean 1
‘Hugh Ellis' should have appended a
glossary to Ids work. ’And a mouth
that kept its owner’s secret well’-
tliis'is easier to understand; the uion
had evidently lost his teeth.”
And so on to the bitter ond, fleer
ing and sneering, with now and then
a deep, sharp tlinist, ran Charlton’s
pen, until lie concluded his review
with these words;
“ ‘Seared Hearts' is undoubtedly
the worst novel of tho season—a sea
son finitfnl of poor uoyels. To that
’had eminence' lias ‘Hugh Ellis' nt
tallied, and it is to be hoped that,
finding himself there, he will see fit
to lay aside the pen which he wields
so ill."
“1 can’t help it if the follow or
girl whichever it Is—is, cut up,"
muttered Churl tun. us Jie rose from
his writing table in his sanctum at
The Censor's office. ’,’1 must do my
duty. It'S the wretchedest stuff over
put between covers, We critics are
secret is one that you don’t know-
one that shares my heart anil my
thoughts with you—one that would
surprise you very much, and that, If
the ornate covers, '"you knew it, Would, I think, do away
with your notion that I am a silly,
empty little thing.”
“ ‘My notion that* you are a silly,
empty little thing?' My darling
child, what are you talking of? 1
think you the sweetest woman 1
ever met I”
“It is very dear of you to say bo;
but I fancied you thought me just a
little—no, I won’t say it again, if it
vexes you: 1 will contout myself
with ‘Saying that if you knew this
secret of mine it would perhaps raise
ine to n higher place—not in your
love, dear, hut in your—in your—1
shall have to say esteem, though
that is not quite tho word I want.”
"And what is this grand secret?
The little woman 1ms not been hatch
ing plots tc overthrow tho govern
ment, 1 hope?"
She did not lieod his jesting words.
Her head was raised and she was
looking nt him with a bright, earnest
look; her lips opened, then she-shook
tier curls and sighed. “No, 1 haven't
the courage to tell-you tonight; por-
haps the next time I see you 1 shall
have summed up enough. It is to
late now we must part."
A minute later George- Charlton
was walking away down tho street
lighting u cigar.
Little witch I” he muttered. “She
name of 'Hugh - Hugh Ellis f”.
"Great heavens!” he ejuuulated in
voluntarily. “Why wasn’t I told?"
He would have given anything to
recall the words, but they wore out;
it was too late.
Gertie drew her arm away from
its position around his shoulder,
stepped back a pace or two, threw,
back tho curls from her brow, looked
at him with flnahing eyes and cheeks
tliut had suddonly grown crimson:
“Was it you who wrote that shame
fully cruel review? Yes, I see it
was. It is your hand thut lias dealt
me tho most agonizing blow I lmve
ever felt. It is you who have torn
down my castle in the nir. It is you
who, with your wicked, mocking,'
unjust"—
"Gertie, spare 1 mol On my knees
I ask for pardon. Consider, love,
that I had no idea who ‘Hugh Ellis’
was."
When the Lump Explodes.
Policemen and firemen are fre
quently’ called into private houses to
put out exploding lamps or clothing
that has caught firo from uu accident
of the kind. When n lamp is blazing
ceiling high it requires considerable
nervo to tako hold of it and hurl it
out of the window, but that is tho
simplest aud host way to prevont dis
aster. If that is impossible, or if the
burning oil has got on tho carpet or
table-cover, a shovelful of sand or,
failing sand, of common soil will gen
erally do all tlint is necessary.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS.
J IV. WtLIBRS,
ATTOltNEY-AT-L.VW.
Practice In nil the Court, of the Albnny Cir
cuit, and olaewhora by- aimelnl contract. , -.
Olilco In \ cntulutt Block, Wnahlngton.street.,
£ It. JOSHS, 7 - . 7 ■
i.AWYEU AND IlKAL ESTATE IIItOKER.
i_l i <t f
Local agent Kquitnhlo Building and Loan As-
soolutiou, Albany, Gu. 2-U-<Uw-ly.
C. 11. Wooten. / W. E. Wooten,
yyoOTJGIY Sc WOOTEN, City AtPy.
ATTORNEY - AT-L A W.
Olflcc in Vcntiilott’i BUlok, Washington street,
Alutuiy, Go. 2-ll-d«w-ly.
W.
T. JONEN.
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW.
All hu.'duvfif promptly and persistently at
tended Id. •
Oillco in V- liiiaghaui's Block, Broad street.
Tolepumu? si'.
um iioniNttoN,
PHYSICIAN AND HUiUiEbN,
Ofllco over Gilbert's Drug Store, Washington
Albany, (in.
W/
1SMI*\V-
JDAVIM,
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON.
was more oncliantiiig than over to-1 Tho same applies to any one whoso
night l What is this wonderful secret | clothing is covered with oil and on
of hers?” Then, after a pause: ”Tlio j fire. If ho can lie down and have
idea of her saying I thought her a j eomo soil shoveled on his clothes the
silly, einpty little thing 1 She is just | tho firo will go out instantly, whereas
what a woman should be—pretty, a dozen buckets of water would hurt
Ofllco over II. .T.I.mnnr $ Sou’s Drug Stem
mi nor Broad and Kosldoiico streets. Rosidon
corner Flint and deilurmui streets.
W.
P. Kl'MIUN, ill, !».,
bright,_mniablo and with taste to dress
her eliaming figure to perfection.
No fomiile geniuses for me, thanks,"
said Charlton, puffing nt his cigar.
"1 may he behind the spirit of tho
age in saying so, but 1 don’t like ’em.
A woman has no business with genius,
and I don’t admire it iu her any more
than 1 do other accidental masculine
qualifies- a bass voice, for instance,
or a beard. By Jove I”-with a .
cli’iekle- "1 suppose my life wouldn’t
he worth n moment’s purchase if 1 ‘
made public these soutimeuts lit a
qieetinfc of the shrieking sisterhood."
him much worse than the firo. A
bucket of sand standing hi a cup
board in a room where a coal oil
lamp is burned is a good precaution,
end may check at the start what
might otherwise ho a most disastrous
fire.—Interview in St. Louis Globe-
Democrat.
It vi two or threo days before
Georgif Charlton saw hisi'etrothed
again. When that time hod elapsed
he called in ' Nugent Gardens one
evening with tomo tickets 1 fol’ a con-
litorury policemen,.and,it is-our duty cert, ..-He ivas shown into the draw
to 'move on' or ’run in' the crowd of in^ Topm, where lie wns joined,by
diiiicos that choke up the avouiies of
fame."
And emerging a few minutes later
from the office of The Censor, George
Charlton mounted iulo a passing
hansom aud was' whisked away to
his club. If the young critic had felt
any slight touch of compunction re
garding the severe treatment he had
meted out to the author of “Seared
Heaits,and the probable, sensations
with which that literary- .aspirant
would read the review which would
appear in the course of two or threo
days, the feeling did not remain long
with him. and he had quite forgotten
it when, oh the evening wore on, he
found himHelf "in beauty’s circle,
proudly gay,” nt a "small and early"
at his Gertie's homo. 7
It was an unpretentious affair, but
very pleasant—music and singing (a
distinction, he it observed, which in
some drawing rooms is a most wise
and necessary one), a little carpet
dance and a supper. At one hour
past midnight George Charlton and
his fiancee were taking a tender fare
well in the hall. It wns a difficult
business—parting. Five goodbys
had been said and the sixth was now
in progress.
"Is my boy very tiredHas ho
been working very, very hard today?"
How adorable she was, he -thought,
in her crimson silk frock, with its
square cut bodice and short sleeves;
her auburn hair curling round her
brow and knotted at the back of her
head; the dimples coining and going
in her fair cheeks; her little hands
reaching upward to turn up the col
lar of his ftvercoet as a defense
against the night wind. “Has my
boy been working very, very hard
today?"
“Tolerably hard, my sweet Gertie.
I have to make my way, you know.
"And how well are you making it,
you dear, clever old boy, what with
your play and writing for the news
papers. Have you been writing arti
cles today, George?”
“What does a little fairy like yon
care to know about newspapers and
articles? Your little curly head was
never meant to think of anything
but love and kisses f
“No; but really, love”—the curly
head lay against his shoulder now
and tbe rosy mouth was just set free
again for speech—“1 do take the
greatest interest in your work.
George,” in a mysterious whisper,
“suppose I were to tell you a little
secret?”
“And suppose.” in a like mysteri
ous whisper, “that I were to tell you
h little BMretf I think 1 can guess
the gist of both little secrets—that
we love each other!”
“Yea, dear George; but I shouldn’t
have called that a secret, because We
each know that well, don't we? My
his prospective mother-in-law.
“1 don’t know whether Gertie will
be able to see youi" said the latter,
who looked troubled. “Sbmething
has upset her sadly today and she has
been shut up in her own room for
hours."
Charlton expressed much concern
and soitow. “May I'not know what
it is that has grieved her?” he said.
“1 am not sure whether I am at
liberty to toll you," rejoined Mrs.
Holmes. "Perhaps she will toll you
herself, if she feels fit to see you; and
l am certain. George, that if you can
give the po'— child any comfort, you
will. I will go and tell her that you
are here."
Left alone in the room, George
Charlton paced up and down once or
twice, somewhat disquieted to hear
of his pretty Gertie’s sad mood and
wondering what the .cause of her
agitation might bo.
Presently there was a footstep on
the stairs outside, the rustle of a
dress at the door, and she entered.
She wore a tea gown, her bonny
curls were pushed back partly from
her brow, her cheeks were white,
her eyes heavy and diBoolored with
long weeping. She came hastily
across the room—came into the arms
ready to receive her—and then her
tears hurst out again.
"Oh, George! oh, George! Help
me to bear it, dear! My heart is
broken I"
By every tender word and caress
he strove to soothe her and at length,
when her convulsive sobs became a
little quieter, -he said, “Won’t my lit
tle girl tell me the cause of her Bor
row?"
And in broken words, interrupted
by many a piteous sob and gasp, she
began to speak:
"You remember that I told you”—
sob—sob— “that I had a secret The
secret was that I had written a”—
sob— sob—“had written a”—sob—"a
—a—novel”—sob—sob—sob. “It has
been a dream to me”—sob—“a castle
in the air—for months”—sob—sob.
“I thought it was so—so good I—so-
so—clever I and that when it ap
peared. and every one was praising
it—you Would be so—so—proud ol!
me—as well as fond of met And
now—now —oh, the dreadful review 1”
She pressed her eyes to her lover’s
shoulder, and her voice was lost in a
storm of sobs, amid which the words
“The Censor” and “cruel wretch”
alone were audible.
Charlton held her from him sud
denly and looked into her face, and
his unukual pallor and tragic aspect
frightened away her sobs effectually.
“What was your novel called?” he
said, “and what name did you write
under?” \
“It was called—‘Seared—Seared
Hearts.’ and I—wroter=under the 1
Tho Viirui'liuiiito Clam.
The first man who used the ex-
‘Don't bo a clam,” should
bo credited with a hit of advice chock
full of wisdom. ' Somebody is after
the clam in season and out, day ami'
night. It is devoured in soft shelled
infancy by fislios, sea fowl and crows,
is sealed in cans, made into stows
and chowders, baked in big piles on
the seashore, boiled in free lunch
barrooms and dug for fishermen's
bait,
The clam furnishek food for many
men of many lands, and also for
seals, polar hears, tho walrus, foxes,
crows, gulls oml fishes, and tliero
never wob a bait, with the exception
possibly of porgy chum—i. e., ground
up porgies—that equaled the Clam
for sea fishing. The clam is at home
on the Maine const, thriving in the
mud of sheltered beaches between
high and low wator marks.—Cor.
Now York Sun.
Having kiOntoil pornmnuntlv ir Albany,le-
apuctly tumlurs bis professional son-lcos to town
mul sniTouiuliiiR country.
Ofllco on Broad street over Crain <& gonp Book.
Store. Ofllco hours, 8:80 to 11:80 a. in* and 2:80-
to 6:U0 p. m. ltoslrlonco on Washington street
near J. L. .lay. Telephone No. 63. •.
m
BONDS FOR SALE.
Wo ofler for sulu-the following bonds of tin;
city of Albany, Gn.:
Bonds to ho Of tho denomination of ono thous
and dollars ouch, and to hoar Interest from tlio
day of their Wuuioo at thu rate of six.per
centum per annum, interest to ho paid annually..
Bonds to he fully paid oil’in twenty-live yfjpra
from January lib ikui, at pi In tin* follow
manner and amo.ints, to-wit:'
On Jan’y lfl, iwu, principal fl,ouo,'Interest
The Largest Olive Orchard !n the World.
The largest olive orchard in tho
world belongs to Mr. Ellwood Cooper,
of Banta Barbara county, California.
Mr. Cooper purchased the land occu
pied by this mammoth grove of ori
ental trees away back in 1871, the
entire orchard, including the portions
of it which are devoted to the culture
of English walnuts, Japanese persim
mons, almonds, etc., comprising 1,700
acres. The orchard how has 10,000
.olive trees, 8,100 in full bearing, the
remainder being young trees set out
during the past year and a half. Be
sides the olive trees, there are 8,000
English walnut trees, 4,500 Japanese
persimmon trees, 10,000 almond trees
and about 4,000 other fruit and nut
trees. The 10,000 olive trees yielded
40,000 quart bottles of olive oil in
1891.—St Louis Republic.
Flying Five Rite* Together.
On May 9,1891, at Bergen Point,
N. J., I sent up five kites, from two
to four feet in diameter, all held by
one string at tho surface of the earth.
Hie altitude of the highest kite was
probably nearly a mile, as roughly
calculated from the slant and length
of the strings. It is therefore dear
that the number of kites to be'flown
is limited only by the strength of the
g, its length, and the force and
linees of toe wind. The various
ly colored kites fly one above another,
with a very pretty effect They look
like colored disks floating irregularly
at a great height, because each kite
is held at a slightly different angle
from every other, maxing differences
of position in toe sky.—William A.
Eddy in St Nicholas.
A Ugh. Corned Un.
Mrs. McMoriarty—Phatisyour son
doin now, Mrs. O’Rafferty?
Mrs. O’Rafferty—Sure he’s adopted
to’ stage as a profession, Mrs. Mo-
Moriarty.
Mrs. McMoriarty—A lift’ avenoo
stage is it?
Mrs. O’Rafferty—Be away wid y’r
nonsense I It's an actor he is. He do
he a light comedian.
Mrs. McMoriarty—A loight com
edian is it?
Mrs. O’Rafferty—Yis. He stands
beyant toe back .curtain, and his
mouth to a hole fomlnsta candle, an
whin Pawnee Ike shoots at to’ can
dle he blows it out
reigned.]
HU»,
* / IM>7,
••/ lbiia,
•• low,
■ *• 1UUU, .
* JWii.
“ iWM,
« lUOfi,
•• JUvo,
” .MOV,
Ili0>
••
f inn,
V 13-.|
*• i Mil/,
*• HUM,
- H)H,
“ 1010,
HUM,
1U17,
1018,
»
4JAJ0,
4,000,
. n
m
4m
4,000,
4,000,
Wll.LOOK
M K SV
OFFICIAL ST*TKMENT.
I’lirposo of Issue: For Waterworks t
Sowcrngo.
Total amount of Issue: Onp hundred thous~
suiul dollars.
Muturlty: Four thousand dollars annua
for twenty-live yours, beginning Jau. 16,1004.
Bate: Blx per centum, payable annually..
Principal and lutorost, where payable:
tho .Mercantile National Blink, New York.
Issued under what authority: Act a
—uguut 28th, 1880. Section Ml of Revised
City of Albany, tia n adopted March tf
Vote: Election held April lfltli, 1
hundred and eighteen votes oast for l
two votes against bone
bonds,
on ot proporty for I
' 1801, showing rola
W 1890, &271,K
Assessed valnai
for years 1889, 181
crease: 1889, fl
*2,401,480.
Rate of taxation: Seven-tenths of one ]
cent.
RESOURCES:
From tuxution .........1.
From licenses..,.'
Other sources
Total
Estimated revenue to be derived from
waterworks .9 8
Total
Current expenses..,
Hnrplns
This is the only bonded indebtedness of t
city.
S o floating indebtedness.
Population: Between 6/XX) and 0*00.
I hereby certify that the foregoing i
is true and correct to thp best of my k
and belief.
[Signed.] W. H. Gilbkrt, Mayor.
Attest: Y. C. Rcbt, Clerk.
SEALED BIDS.
Bids for the aforestated bonds will ho i
celved up to June 1st, 1802, at J1 o’clock i
for the whole Issue or any part thereof.
The City Council reserves the right to i
any or all bids. „ _
Mayor and Cou
Of City of Albany, C
Richard Hobbs.
A. W.
Hobbs & Tuckefv
ALBANY, GEORGIA.
Bay and sell Exchange; give ]
attention to Collections, and rei
same on day of payment at i
rates; receive deposits subject
checks, and lend money on ap
time papers. Correspondence i
HBB J
We repr
ance Con
surance (
■,\k .• • • : A*r;.'
tS&ii ■