Newspaper Page Text
& IMtnscilfe
A WEEKLY Papes,
Published Tuesday,
—AT—
Watkinsville, Oconee Co. Georgia.
W. Gr. SULLIVaM,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR
One in TERMS:
year, adrauce oc
Six months. 60
..
t'AIREST MORTAL, LOVELY JOAN.
Jurt when the doxol’gy was sting,
Ana saints stood still, with heads low hung,
While walls and vaulted arches rung
With Father Smith’s beseeching tongue—
Just then acroea the aisle there sprung
A tony youth, and proudly flung
Himself beside his future bride.
Whose lovely little arm he grasped
Before she’d said a word, or gasped
A breath of approbation!
So dark and cloudy was the night
The waning moon lost all her light,
While not a star appeared in sight
To tell the youth which street was right;
And his betrothed spoke not a word.
Nor even acted like she heard
The words he said, but onward sjecL
As should a fond, prospective groom,
He strove to ease her silent gloom
With strains of adoration.
He heaved a sad d, sepulchral moan
That ended in a lovmg groan,
Then these wordB spake in frenzied tones
•' Oh, fairest mortal, lovely Joan
(Than whom more charming none are known
In any land where birds have flown;
On any sea where sails are blown;
’Neath any sky where stars e’er shone;
'Mid tropic sands or icy zone),
With thee I’d rather dwell alone,
With naught to eat save crust and bone—
Or both lie buried ’neath one stone,
Than without thee to live and own
A crown, a scepter, and a throne.”
She heaved a sigh and wiped her eye,
Which made our youthful hero feel
That all his earthly woe, or weal,
Wag near its termination.
44 In those tear-dimmed, angelic eyes
Methinka, The e’en now, I see arise
Through pearly gates of Paradise,
which there glides, and swiftly flies,
As lightning through the Btarlit skies,
A turtle dove, which bears, my love,
Within its pure and graceful beak,
Words that none but angels Bpeak—
Save thee, their near relation !
When I behold those golden curls
(And sure they’d charm great men like Earls)
I know thou’rt not as other girls;
This dimpled chin, that classic nose
(What fragrant music when it blows l);
Those checks which blush e’en like the rose
That in tlie choicest bower grows
So oft and oft have I caressed—
And still more oft, thou knowst, I've pressed
Those finger-tips and velvet lips 1
'Tis joy supernal, bliss most sweet,
To bow before thee and thy feet,
And take an observation 1
“My very heart with rapture thrills
Whene’er I think how, freed from ills
Of thiB sad life, by you, my wife—”
Before the 44 wife ” was half pronounced
The fair one turned and at him bounced
This fierce ejaculation:
44 Hold 1 hold! you yellow-headed brute 1
Hold 1 hold, I say, you frog-eyed newt I
I swan I’b half a mind to shoot
A great brick-bat elur through yer hat 1
And now, you ugly blue-nosed wretch,
Yer’d better git, or sbur I’ll fetch
Handfuls of wool from off yet- head
And scratch yer chin as blue as lead I
You son of old Tarnation I”
Soon sticks and stones flew thick and faBt
As hailstones in a summer blast,
There And, though he dodged them as they passed,
came an awful rock at last
Which Htruck a tree, square at him glanced,
And laid him motionless—entranced!
**««»»*«•
He threw away his ear, and danced,
Yh aen, fire ana brimstone I how he pranced
And raved and tore 1 and almost swore
He’d never, ’cept insane, or blind,
Attempt So to escort womankind
vile with degradation l
You've heard, now, boys, my story through,
So listen now—a word to you !
"Whene’er your Joan from church you’d take.
Before you’ve made the final break,
In darkest night, or mid-day bright,
I pray you to right shaiyiy look
Which is your Joan, and which the cook
Of Afrlc emigration j
A DECIDED ANSWER.
1 had long suspected there was a ro¬
mance connected with my Cousin Mira¬
bel’s cameo ring, for she had a habit of
turning it it upon tender, her finger and looking 3
at with shining eyes, but
observed she would instantly desist and
cover the jewel with her right hand.
After ten months’ teaching, it was like
paradise the shore to get down Lake to Stone Cottage,
on of Michigan, where
my maiden cousin resided. She lived
alone with the exception of a single ser¬
vant. Her father had left her sufficient
money to place her above the reach of
want, that is above the want that presses
aud pursues the poor, but not beyond
the dire want, the terrible heart hungei
that takes possession of the lonely.
had Although heard Mirabel was a first cousin I
not from her for years until
her letter came to me at the seminary,
where I was teaching, inviting me to
spend the coming vacation at Stone Cot¬
tage. I had been four days at the cot¬
tage and felt quite settled and at home.
Mirabel had the rare and excellent trait
of letting her guests enjoy themselves it as
they chose. She did not deem neces¬
sary to be always at their side trying to
entertain them, and, fine woman though
she was. it would not have been always
desirable. Yes, I say to myself with
emphasis, despite Cousin her Mirabel is a fine I wom¬
an, 30 years. As spoke
I saw' in imagination the tall, elegant
figure, the white brow and dark, heavy
hair, but, most of all, the reserved ana
pensive air that characterized this
woman.
Ever since our dinner at 2 o’clock I
had been sitting cloak, out for on the lake piazza,
muffled up in a the breeze
was damp and cold. I believe Mirabel
could live nowhere else than on the shore
of a stormy lake. At 3 o’clock I saw her
leave the house by a side door. She was
in her ,tom cloak udMth.
hood dra^m over her head. At dusk
she had not returned. I entered the
house but before stnkinga hgU I
c^mtog S^Th^reoSaeSth! through* the gloom. I started
hoz^e-coming. I heard the outer door
open and shut, heard her pause in the
tot tot coming UP wearily h6 l Cl ° up ak -a stairs. l hen v^ Very
weanly zt seemed to me She tapped on
the sitting room door then pushed it
open. I started up, her hair was damp,
her face pale and her eyes unusually
and bnllnmf.
I drew her into the room, saving :
“ Yonr wait has been too much for vou;
take this easy chair here by the fire.-”
‘‘No, it is not the walk,” she an
swered, smiling a little at my anxiety,
“ It is not the walk ; it is excitement,
.Tudge Parkhnrut has been asking me to
marrv him —the gentleman you saw here
on the first day of your arrival.”
“Oh!” I said, with a long-drawn
breath of real pleasure, thinking some
happines* was to be granted Miraiad at
last. “ I hope you accepted him.”
“No not exactly; he is to come for
an answer tomorrow.”
Tlie tea had been still brought in and
cleorwl away, and I was talking
about the Judge. I concluded by say
mg “He i« a and strong, true-hearted, will
honorable man. * yon my yet
u. ra bt,i? M
doKt know, Udrng ilmr," aba anaweml,
..caddy, but, down to lum her.
The Watkinsville Advance.
VOLUME I.
Mv IrnJ ai ' k i^7 Kre c fnl1 ^ u sm 0f
weeuine J?' ’ That Tkt was ™ almost beyond , be
vtoient exEtof xhibition of emotion. The
«r; ,, I!' , r 1 D e i°V 1 6 bega he “ g * turmn ld 8ettm 8 it f with °U ,er a
it . rcss g nKvtment.
* close to her feet,
Miton 11 ke V aP ’ a ' d ‘
“ ^ ! i te n
I . ”^ 0Ur rm Tm sure i+lf it has a i. his- me
torv °
e,' _ histfr^na i___j fV , . .
has indeed a i ,1 V n 1 >
to y • T w have been n thinking • all day of
T lienneth - Deenng, the man who gave me
this ring, and it will be a relief to talk
ot him to-night. It may be wrong, but
I cannot help it; indeed, I cannot.
ihere was a short silence, as if she
were striving to overcome some bitter or
painful emotion. She began her story
in a low voice, and I did not look into
tier nice.
1 ive years ago to-night , I met Ken
neth Deenng for the first time. I de
Miliy Srii Bently B ^ mmer boarding place, and
wrote , me : We are back
again where we spent last summer. I
can recommend the piace. Nice family,
splendid library, and pleasant sur
roimdings. I am sure you would bo
suited if you were to come.
I was alone m the world; one place
was indifferent as good as another to me, for I was
to all. I think it was the
mention of the hbrary that decided me.
Milly was of the dark, slender, piquant
style of beauty, unlike full of fire and vivacity,
We were too to be perfectly con
genial, yet we were friendly enough as
the world goes. I remember the first
afternoon of my arrival. Milly met me
in the hall and introduced me to the
ladies of the household. The weather
was warm, and I desired to be
shown to my room to bathe
my hands and face and change my trav
elmg dress. That done, I determined
to see the library before I should be
summoned to tea. I had seen the book
shelves on my way to my own apart
ment. I was surprised at the number
of books, and the fine taste displayed in
the collection. Surely someone her©
must have most scholarly tastes, I
be thought. bustling It did not seem to me it could
the housewife to whom I
bad been introduced, nor did I believe
it to be the master of the house, a de
crepit old man who‘shuffled past me in
the hall. Having ran my eye over tho
various titles I selected a volume of
poems, and seated myself at an open
window, but soon forgot my book
in the beauty of the landscape. The
soft summer twilight was gradually en
in veloping all objects. library While absorbed
a reverie the door opened, a
gentleman advanced a few steps into the
room, withdrawn. but on perceiving me would have
He bowed, saying, ‘ I beg
your pardon, I intrude. ’
it t No !’ I exclaimed ‘it is I who am
the intruder - pray remain : do not per
mit my presence to drive you away, or I
shall not forgive myself for coming.’
“ He thanked me, and, going to a cab
inet of minerals, began comparing them
with the one he held in his hand. The
room was already dusk, so he lighted a
lamp. He invited me to look at the
minerals, which I did with interest, for
the collection was large and rare. ‘ Per
hape you can help me classify this odd
bit of rock,’ he said, suddenly. I shook
my head. “I am a very poor geologist,
indeed,” I said. . His face clouded a lit
tle as he remarked, ‘ I will have to see
more about it to-morrow. I must hav«
my supper now. I suppose you hava
liad tea some hours aoro.’
“No; Iliad not been been to tea.
entered. ‘ ‘A servant, seeing alight in the library,
Supper mode, bad long I had been over, been
in Apology was but not
my room when the servant went to
announce the meal Kenneth Deering, short
as his the gentleman proved to ‘Nevermind, be, cut
Miss excuses Madison, by saying,
we will have our supper
together; please take my arm.’
“ We had a very social time over our
idly. tea. Our We acquaintance made progressed discoveries rap
so many of
mutual likes and dislikes. We found
that we had.so many tastes that were
congeniel; little incidents we told that each other purely so many
were such person
al, and the other listened with in
terest that when we arose from the table
w-e seemed to have known each other for
a long time, if, indeed, we had ever been
strangers. At the parlor door he took
my hand. ‘I must- say good-night,
now, Miss Madison. I rarely spend
my evenings in there.’ He gave
my From hand a slight, lingering friends pressure,
that instant we were for
evermore. He ascended the stair, I
stood in a delicious dream. I was
scarcely I only felt conscious that of my did surroundings. wish
meet*any sure I not to
one just then, I moved down
™
^‘XreVoXve "“ein'slm said ‘andtefi unce?e
been Your
monious way of entering rooms shows
^ ^Xy’S^
was afraid you had committed suicide as
you did not answer the rap at yonr door,
beSt be best pto^ny pWdto beii'gTtt Demgieii XneHto aione, imd
yo
asleep. VNasingnt the or nave I narrated you iiecn
expionng premises. mv
^it to the Khr^ andmy m^tog with
Mr. Deenng She s^ed a httle m
' noyed, I thought, and I soon with
drew.
“You know that I am generally consul
ered cold, practical and^ impassive. I
am, but I had met, for the first tune m
my life, a man who hail power to hold
my thoughts when be was out of sight,
A strange, sweet sense of Vicing no long
er desolate possessed my whole being.
I opened the window and looked out;
the stars were shining tranquilly in the
bine Vieautiful, heavens. and I was God hajJJiy, good the night
was was to me.
I could not pray : my heart could find
no words in which to express its grati
tide and content. My simp half wan pahiful, tilled
with dreams half pleasant,
dreams «< 'f n.TteLT?
* ,,d ‘l 1r, ' ala * o( Mi ‘“Xaf 1 ^ A
1 °°m* book to reality , ny
oioraing, I think, iot I w»*i h imi# flip#
a '**it
my •"'I'lZ.'T* WJKMs flOWM * 1
WATKINSVILLE, GEORGIA, SEPTEMBER -21, 1880.
“The whole family was assembled. I
wa * presented to those whom I had not
me j the evening before. After break
fftst those had ™rk to do went
about it while we who consulted our
inclination lingered in the wide,
c00l breakfast room I fix* a position
on a window seat, overlooking tho lawn.
i had been there but a moment when
Kenneth came up. ‘If you cannot
hel P me about about the tlie minerals, flowers,’ perhaps
y 0U can he said,
smilliug, and indicating by a slight mo
tion of tho llacd thftt the dowers I wore
called forth the remark. not,’i
‘“No, I fear replied. ‘ I d >
not take kindly to technicalities. I only
understand their beauty, which is, per
haps, more thau most botanists do.’
“I wasseated, he standing; hebentto
ward me as he said. ‘Perhaps, and yet,
botanist though I am, there is one kind
of beauty I do not fail to admire.’
compliment, “Icouldnotmisnnderstandtheimplied and blushed little under
a
his steady gaze.
the “ Milly came up the next instant, and
conversation drifted away to indif
ferent topics. I could see that Ken
neth's attentions to me were a source of
displeasure pleasure to Milly. I bad a sort of
ter in seeming to be unaware of
“How annoyance.
if uninterruptedly change would events will go
on, as never come;
then all at once, one scarcely knows how,
everything quite the is changed, and is never
“I had same been again !
place, and Kenneth five months at Deering side
was at my as
often as he could be without attracting
attention or comment. I spent much
of my time in the library. Sirs. Deer
ing was always busy about her work in
the kitchen. Milly spent her forenoons
in the parlor, and m the afternoons she
usually slept an hour or so, then drove
out to make calls and talk over the fash
ions with the aristocratic young ladies
of the neighborhood. On these occa
sions Kenneth would be sure to find
some excuse for coming in from the
field before evening. His manner had
long been that of a lover.
“ One day, as I was seated at a desk in
the library writing, he came in quietly,
but, seeing I was busy, he pretended to
have some errand in the room. He soon
cool, came to my side, however, and put his
tender palm against my cheek.
Some slight, caressing movement on my
against part—perhaps his a pressing of my cheek
hand—caused him to bend
down and say, with deep earnestness :
“ ‘ You do love me ’
I flashed a smile up into his face and
“‘Why?’ ‘Because love
“ I you,’ he answered.
“ To his protestations of love I had al
ways r turned an indifferent reply, but
that d..y a spirit of coquetry possessed
me. like My blusMng inquiry had seemed
confession, and Kenneth was radi
ant. I would not seem to share his
mood, neither did I have the heart to
check Ms joy. I kept on with my writ
ing, but I had no thought except of this
man, who was all the world to me. He
sat by my side and held my hand. I
could not deny Mm nor myself that
pleasure. I wrote steadily, with down
cast eyes. I was in a delicious, dreamy
trance. My aside interest in my writing was
gone. I laid my pen, and, passing
my hair, hand said lightly over Ms thick masses of
I :
“ ‘ You should be at work, Kenneth,
instead of hindering me.
“He caught my hand and, drawing 8 me
toward him, said :
“‘Kiss me Mirabel; just once, dear ’ •
you never have ’
“I shook my head. He arose, bringing
me to my feet at the same time; his
strong arms were about me, his passion
ate kisses on my lips. I had no further
control of myself and to his whispered
entreaty, ‘Kiss me, darling, just once,’
my arm crept half way around his neck
and my lips met Ms. No use of denying
my i () 'v e for him after that. For one
hour complete, unthinking happiness
was ours. We did not trouble ourselves
by thoughts of the future. We bad the
present and each other. We did not
talk much. With a provoking ! pretense
of industry, I said. Let me go on with
mv writing.’ his
He put arm about mo and held me.
‘I can’t spare you,’ he said. ‘You do
not love me as I do you oryoncould not
think of work. Oh, Mirabel, I cannot
live without you.’
“‘Peihaps,’I said, with a side smile
up into his face, “you could not live
with me.’
“‘Myra’—he always called me Myra
when very grave —* do not talk so. Do
you doubt my love ?’
“ ‘ No, Kenneth, I would as soon think
of doubting my own.’
“ The time had come for me to go to
my room. I said to him, ‘I must go.’
“ He arose and stood looking down sor
’ P "‘ ^
P ‘“ Y^hv Else are vtmleavfme'' vou ^ crave’’
“ ‘ I^n^X he“e’alwavs’ he replied
“ ‘ fs right would'to
“‘No that so ; but God
^ ^ ^
.<< A -nd why can’t we ? I’m sure I shall
love you always, ^ Kenneth.’ d kissed
,7 Myra, aa I me grate
fu f i Jy> < Dear am not worthy
of your affection. I am Milly Bently’s
betrothed husband.
“ I started Viaek ashamed and angry,
H@ hagtene< j to entreat, ‘Forgive me,
. j oonld paradise; not help loving I you. I
] lave been in now can suffer
hell.’
“ I shrank further from him. ‘Oh.
Kenneth, why did yon not tell me this?’
*•* I could not, Myra. I wanted you to
j 0V( , rnCj and you would not had you
known.’
«< J wrong?’ could only say, ‘Howconhlyon
do so
“He replied, ‘ I do not feel thfitit was
wrong, Myra. I did not know how mndi
jj wm came.’ possible to Jove a woman until
* v , m
“ I had been seated upon the sofa, over
<.<mw witii gn-t and humiliation. I now
arose and said, • If you arc engaged to
Milly, of course it is iw|**sibl« her, I will to do
'Mierwise than to msrnr not
make it difficult awl foryoii will to do your duty,
Hew* forth yon I remain apart,
j I Uonui to-iftoryow,
This love-making, < hot the
®« ,k * 7 of |, ’ v ' VOI part, rnuxt v<<
fid \> in mi f that you are
pledged wish to another woman ; and, leave' if you
to retain even my respect, me
to mvself. ’
“ He protested.
it 4 You are cruel, Myra. As God is
witness, I did not Milly, my
mean to wrong
but I was powerless in your presence.
Say will that you do not despise me, and I
do whatever you command. ’
I “ ‘ No, 1 do not despise you, Kenneth ;
am sorry for you ; I am sorry for my
self ; but still there is something higher
than happiness. You must marry Milly.
l command it; I desire it. I could never
found my happiness on another woman’s
misery. I shall And, whether you marry her or
not, never marrv vou. No more
need be said. Good-by, 'Kenneth. We
will not meet again if I can prevent it.*
“I had been strong, cruel, if you will;
hut just at the last my voice qmvered.
It was very hard to be'stern then ; very
hard to see him standing there in his
splendid, manly beauty, and hold yearning to
take me to his heart me against
the world, and then to turn away to tako
up Power again my old desolate life. Some
higher strength than myself gave me cour
age and in that hour. One mo
ment my hand was t£e pressed in his, and
the next he held door open as I
passed out. I have a confused vision of
a if sad, steru face that bent toward me as
proudly struggling to if speak, and tiien the stood
erect as he accepted worst
that fate might inflict.
“ I loved Kenneth more than T knew,
until the inseparable barrier arose be
tween us. His word was pledged and
should not be violated for me ; that I
resohed, and yet I cannot picture one
tenth of the agony that resolve cost me,
not only on my own account, but on
his.
“We met the next day at breakfast,
dinner and tea, but were not alone to
gether for an instant. I would always
manage to have Milly with us. When I
announced my intention of leaving the
following Kenneth day she brightened percepti
bly. was civil to us both,
nothing There more.
Milly “ and myself, was no congeniality therefore between
T\ie and no con
fidences. last evening of my stay,
however, I said to her: “I wish you
happiness, Milly. Kenneth has told me
of your engagement. ” She smiled and
answered : ‘ Dear Kenneth ! I am sure
I shall be happy with him,’
“ Oh, how I hated her at that moment!
I soon made a pretext to leave her room,
Kenneth was haunting He detained the hall awaiting
my gentle appearance. force, and said, ‘Come me by
into the
library, “1 quieted Mvra.’ conscience
saying myself, my uneasy Surely, I by
to ‘ may see
Mm tMs once; to-morrow I go.’ I
took my old place by the window, but
the air was cold and the room strangely
cheerless. Kenneth lowered the win
dow and leaned against it. I sat with
downcast eyes. I felt that he was look
ing at me, and I toyed nervously with
the becoming fringe of painful. my shawl. I lifted The silence
was You had something wished my eyes,
“ ‘ you to
say to me.
‘“Yes, Myra! I have become in ,
some degree reconciled to yonr decision,
I cau see !t best. With your encour
agement and example it will be possible
for me to keep my lienor safe from
further doubt. And yet I believe a
strong and pure friendship friendship is still pos- will
8lb le between us—a that
wrong no one.’
“ I believe so, too; and vetit must be
80 strong that it will need no reassnr
ancef !- ^e must indulge no hope of
meeting.’ _ understand
“ ‘ Still cruel, but right. I
tlie of Y ov ? motives and but love
.you the more. I have a little token of
remembrance for you Myra, ho said,
daw *K a ««“ v, ; lvo t ca8 f fr »m 1»«
proeket. Wear it, dear friend, . as a
souvenir of our eternal fidelity and tho
punty of our resolves.
‘ He took my hand and placed this
? ameo on aDd !t ha8 n T
removed. I gave him . a slender ,
gold ring of mme in exchange. Our
V™ 18 unchanged and unchangeable. In
i \ ir ? e and months I have he hoard and Milly that he were mar- kind
™ is a
hu8b and. '
Her voice sunk almost to a
«'M«pen ^g I pressed my face sympathy, against
to express my
8at tbuB » fow > then
lifted her head, saying, . It was wrong
m “ e *> ^onlAe yon with my private
“ No, it was not wrong. I shall re
spect you all my life for ltn-iwing of
your temptation and vour triumph. A
weaker woman would h ive yielded; you
were firm, and I honor you, Cousin
Miraliel.”
wonderful “ A sense of having done right one,” has she a
power to sustain
answered, “and I am not unhappy, ex
cent at lom? intervals when I am over
have been ’feTT* Generally riter S? such a (lay 1
as this I hear news of Kenneth. Two
years ago to-day I wandwedM and
livery an^that nteht I fi that to’wife
- de.1 he Mri sailed for
• • i7d have you heard nothing from
him since’ ” I asked in surprise
“ Not a word, but j know he has not
ceased to love me, and he has Her some good
reason for not writing.” absolute
belief in his devotion wan something
wonderful to liehold. The clock struck 12,
and we arose and bade each other good
night; the fire bad long been out, and
a dismal rain was falling.
The next ; morning was bright and
beautiful all the clouds had beared
awav and Cousin Mirabel was positively
radiant “I had the sweetest dream ’’
she said in answer to my compliment
on her looks. While we were enjoying
a cozy and delicious breakfast there came
a rap at the door. A messenger from
the wiusin. village hotel had brought a note for
j | my 8h© did not recognize the
writing but tearing it open hastily she
: tmw at the bottom of the page the name
i of “Kenneth Deering." Him ran her
over the note ; I saw good news in
)„. r face, and was not unprepared for
)„, r exclamation : “ O, Clara!
Kenueth is at the village, and will he
i h„ rf , today." ( Bit© caught up the note
. 0wl ri . w ) r , m it .
“ Ever I have since Milly’s wanderer, death, two y bo- ■
#go, lieen a i
Li dMisM) ved you to l>e married, sud, much a*
I to see you, could not trust my-
self to visit you. Only last night I heard
that you were free and living in this
neighborhood.” She
looked up and said, “He may be
here in a little whilo. My dear Kon
ncth, Sure I know enough Ms he impatience!”
had followed close
after his message, and, before I could
collect my scattered wits, a handsome
bearded t rangcr was clasping my Cous¬
in less Mirabel of in his arms, I utterly'regard¬
when the my first presence. of was meeting presented
but still rapture was
over, they had only tlioughts
for each other. I never saw such per
tect affection existing botween two per¬
sons. When Judge Parkhurst eamo he
got a “decided answer.”
I always spend my vacations at Cous¬
in Mirabel Deering’s. There is no pleas¬
anter place in the world to visit, and
the perfect love and trust with which
the master and mistress of the house re¬
gard each other leads one to believe
that Kenneth was right when he said,
“ We were intended for each other.”—
Flatboat. Days,
That BiX brave old dieS warrior General Wm
O. who
home Zhty in Kentucky ^M at the advanced Z a«e
of seven ’
thansoldier He undoubted was a poet and bad
R t times riven evidence of
possessing the divine afflatus His noein **
commenonitr
.. () an, wind thnt horn again,
F rmv«r did ihe Uste’ intt air
Eaai ii« lsmiwnt b «..m bear
uBira n, f
.,,, ! lmlf { bold its place among the gem si
of V American poetry. But the days when
tli<! ' Jui L weaiis °I transportation on on
6 rea I Western r rivers was tho flatboat
have passed away. It may almost be
Mud to be a thing of the past, and henoe
flavor of General Butler s poem
. lost to great degree to eneration
is a a g
w bo on ly know of it by tradition,
^ v0 oyage from Pittsburg to New Or
‘leans by flatboat was an enterprise around onoe
0 ‘ greater .peril than a tour the
world is now. It was certain to be full of
adventure. It required months for its
accomplishment. A shot from the shore
BP some Indian or reckless desperado
might terminate abruptly the voTage and
f ' 16 ' lves °f navigators m blood. A
moments > neglect of the steersman might
wreck the unshapely craft and all the
hopes of its owners, hundreds of miles
from home and in an mhospitaVde wilder
ness. There was danger everywhere—in
the currents, eddies, whirlpools, bayous
ar *u snags of the tortuous rather of
Waters; but there was no less danger
from the half civilized dwellers on the
banks. The outlawed criminate and the
desperate adventurers from civilization
skulked along tlie Bhores, or prowled
with light canoes among the bayous and
crooks watching for chances to plunder,
even if murder wasnecessary to aid them.
A flatboat voyage down the great rivers
was perilous enough from natural causes,
even if man s inhumanity to man had not
increased the peril. In those days the
government boats, the had Mississippi not _ thought full of snag- hulf
al ,g was of
bidden dangers. Ihe current was con
stwitly changing. It was easy to be de¬
ceived into an old channel from which
there was no return. Bayous were often
traps—-watery culs-de-sac leading no
where but to rum. The organized river
pirates and wreckers were always on the
lookout for unwary voyagers, so that a
a slight mishap generally ended m com
plete disaster. ftetboatman If, under reached such mroum- dis
stances, the his
taut home, footsore and weary but penm
less, months after leaving it, he was
lucky. In tlie early days of ftettemting
a safe return, even when the venture had
not grand proven event h“«-«^lly and the occasion pmfltable of tumult- was a
nous joy. The business bred a special
class who sought it for its adventure and
dangers ns much as for its profits. The
nvir pirates mot m the flatboatman of
“ cJw * 8 ready, eager and
willing for the fray-a, class which ltee
the raucheros of the plains, accounted a
trip tame danger. and They spiritless if unattended and
with were rough
ready, careless and care-free DreamUy
floating slowly down the Ohio, they
whiled away with songan.l dance the lazy
hours The teaman shorn waked the
ech.^s from distant hills more musical
thar, steamboat whistle or that ear-dw
trading We, horror, befitting the calliope the grand It was a
romantic scenery
and rude time Nmety days and a slow
moving flatboat, the scenery constantly beautiful,
changing but ever wild and
was a tiling never to rm forgotten. Die
spice of danger in it only gave it zest.
" n occasional adventure with nver
sharks only relieved monotony and ad
dad interest. Indianapolis• J( oumal.
General Grant’s Fortune.
As a good deal of discussion has been
^ the truth. The entire prop
, r) f „ f o.neral and Mrs. Grant yields
th( m an aIlnuai j nC omeo f W.OOO. During
S°l£ P p^£nlM mrtj we^STtS
if, Wki)^"however *''wMif ti 6 Gmnt^So
MJV( „ ' ral “ .ri.duj,'companies nr, A sp^ulated «. director his so in
orudentlv and so successfully on
father’s behalf that a welcome addition
i\ rKt months of this vear (iranf Jr 7
auyJ ln .„j c gp; <XK) for J/^r his father mostly in
chrysolite. h m
RaAPBEBUY VlNBOAB.—Pick and wash
fi ve pounds of raspberries aud white pour over
them a gallon of the Iwst wine
vinegar; let it stand twenty-four hours,
then strain through a flannel jelly-bag
aB, I T mt this liquor over five pounds
more of raspberries. Lot it stand again
a day and night. Htrain a second time
through a flannel bag, and add ten
pounds gallon of lump jar sugar. set the Put jar in a pot three- of
stone ; in a
“ ot watw an '‘ froth «* that twenty
minutes slumming perfectly any cold bottle may and
When
^ rk Kws I* 111 “ 1’ 1hC4 ’
during the summer,
A wink merchant at Itheims, in France,
j„ the owner of two hundred bottles of
chsrnpsgue which he says he will not sell
*t sny price, because it was tlie only lot
in any cellar of the of the German city that soldiers escaped during the
dutches
the war »l 1H70,
NUMBER 29.
New Method of Precipitating Rain
Falls.
Amon g the recent paten ts is one taken
out bnrg, by Va., Daniel Ruggles, of Frederioks
for what he designates as a
new and useful mode of producing rai
or clouds, precipitating for the rain f alls from sustaining rai
purpose of
vegetation and for protection against
drought The and for sanitary purposes.
invention consists in sending bail bal¬
loons into the cloud realms, said oons
carrying with torpedoes and cartridges charged
detonate explosives, them by and electric there to explode or
force.
“My design,” he Bays, “is to employ
every kind of explosive force at an ele¬
vation in the cloud region of the atmos¬
phere, in order to condense rain clouds
by concussive force or the power of ex¬
plosion within such region, tlioreby pre¬
cipitating rain to and sustain vegetation, pre¬
vent drought, also purify and reno¬
vate the atmosphere epidemics. during periods of
pestilenoe contemplate and
“I the employ ment of
nitro-glycerine, dynamite, chlorates
nitrogen, gun other cotton, explosives gunpowder, and fulmi¬
nates, and to use
the surface magneto-electric of the ground telegrap and tin h phono- on tlie
e
telegraph action in the where doud realm regular to balloon direct
in ease a
not charged aeronaut with explosives, is ocoup cloud ied
by an to reoonnoiter the
realm, to trail torpedoes and catrulges, anil
or to throw them in parachutes, to
explode occupied or detonate by them the either from from the
balloon aeronaut or
the ground.
“Instead of a single balloon
with explosives—say ten small
or cartridges, each charged with a
pound of dynamite, and arranged
simultaneous —I magneto-electric
propose in some cases the
of small balloons in groups in the
region, each provided with
and arranged for by simultaneous either electric explosion
or detonation
mechanical force; and I contemplate
only to precipitate rain fall, but also to
check its fall in overabundance in a given
locality by causing before tlie the rain clouds locality to
discharge reached rain such clouds. given
has been by
“ My invention is based on discoveries
in meteorological force and scieuce, and that elec¬
trical Bways controls the atmos¬
pheric realm and governs the
of tlie rain clouds, bursting into thunder¬
storms, dispensing rniu au<l hail, and into
cyclones and tornadoes, illuminated by
magneto-eleotrio forces as prime a tri¬
butes of matter.
“I propose eugine to employ send explosives tho magneto
electrio to into
the cloud realm, and atmosphere compressed air and
stem into the whenever
found expedient, each metallic through its appro¬
priate medium of wire, textile
fiber, cordage, and elastic tubes.”
Why Snow at Great Altitudes floes
Not Melt.
Mr. .Tames Oroll, theauthor of Climate
ami Time, gives in Nature his views as
to the influence of an aqueous vapor on
the melting The point of snow. Ho snys:
1 ‘ reason why snow at great eleva¬
tion does not melt but remains jiennanont,
is owing to the fact that the heat re¬
ceived from the sun is thrown off into
stellar space so rapidly by radiation and
reflection that the sun fa ails to rise the
point; temperature the of the snow to the melting
notmelt. The snow evaporates, but it does
summits of tlie Himalayas,
for example, must receive more than ten
times the snow that falls on them, not¬
melted. withstanding which the snow is not
And, in spite of the strength of
the sun and the dryness of tin: air at those
altitudes, evaporation is insufficient to re¬
move the snow. At low elevations, where
the snowfall is probably greater and tho
amount of heat even less than at the sum
mits, I the snow melts and disappears.
This, believe, we must attribute to the
influence of aqueous vapor. At high
elevations the air is dry, and allows the
heat radiated from the snow to pass
into space; but at low elevations a
very considerable amount of the
heat radiated from the snow to pass into
space; but at low elevations a very con¬
siderable amount of the heat radiated
from the snow is absorbed in passing
through the atmosphere. A consid¬
erable portion of the heat thus absorbed
by the vapor is radiated back on the
snow, but the heat thus radiated be¬
ing of the same quality as that which the
snow itself radiates, is on this account ab¬
sorbed by the snow. Little or none of
it is reflected like that received from the
sun. The consequence is that the heat
thus absorbed accumulates in the snow
till melting takes plaoes. Were the
amount of aqueous vapor possessed by
the perpetual atmosphere sufficiently diminished,
snow would cover our glolie
down to the seashore. It is true that the
air is warmer at the lower level than at
the higher level, arid by contact with the
snow must tend to melt it more at the
former than at the latter position. Bat
we must remem tier that the air is warmer
mainly in consequence of the influence
of aqueous vapor, and that were the
quantity question of the vapor difference reduced to tho amount
in of temperature
at the two positions would not lie
The growth of trees and shrubs is
made the first half of the season ; after
that the time is occupied in maturing
the wood. The growth, therefore,
should be pushed from the start, and
this is done by manuring and cultiva¬
tion ; the latter is an aid to the former,
and discontinued in time to give chance
for maturing. Begin early, and work
the ground for a largo space, as the
roots extend far. To stir or manure the
ground only, as is so common, is of
little or no benefit. The entire space
between raspberries and blackberries
should to disturb lie gone the over, roots, and which lightly, usually so as
not
are near the surface. Treat currants,
gooselierries, grapevines, young trees,
etc., in the same way, using manure if
needed, and to tho amount applying required in it
connection with cultivation, Barn
early, so as to get the full benefit.
manure is in general preferable, mulch. as it
also serves to some extent as a
War) wtu I war upon weeds! The
farmer's success is the reward of con¬
stant vigilance. The fertile soil of tlie
West, while yielding immense crops ot
grain, yields weed* in the same proiior
Utm, But, taken in time, on our mellow
soil, the weeds arc cosily destroyed. —•
AVxjA aru/e.
KMinsrilk gdrnntt.
A WEEXLT PAPES, PUBLISHED AT
WatJonivilte, Oconee Co., Georgia.
» A TES OF ADVERTISING 8
tin** squ*. first insertion.. ® S8S88888SS3S83
K«< h *uh ..................
<>u equetit 1« sertion....................
One yquare, «»ne mo tb....................... M
Oar square, t six ree months.................. Ot
Owiqus. square, n.ontbs_____.•______..._______ O-4
oi»« ye^r..................
nne-fourth column, on© month..........„ CR
O u-fuv.r h tolurnn, thiee months..... QB
Om -?• urtb co uiun, s x months.............. ££
One-fourth c lumn, on-* year................. 7 7 7 $£
Half column, one month ................. oa
Ha f thiee . . .
Half (vJkiud, co umu, six ino< ths................... td
uiou hs ........................ o
Ha f column, one year........................... S’*
UBER4L TERRS FOB MORE MPiOK
WAIFS AND WHIMS.
The Borne Sentinel say* that an alli¬
gator laughs skin when it hears that beauty
is only deep.
Hints to housekeepers—When yonr
nworito eats become too prolific you must
4 ‘pool their issues.”
Faith moves mountains, but it takes a
couple ionable of woman’s express wagons to more a fash¬
baggage.
The grand and awful difference be¬
tween a tree and a bore is—the tree
leaves in the spring, and the bore —why,
lie never leaves.
The two urchins who played “escap¬
ing from the wreck” by using their
mother’s holiday dough-trough for a life¬
boat, were lashed together.
A man in Baltimore has the wooden
shutter of the room occupied by Mary
the Phillipse, who Cupid’s gave George blind. Washington
mitten.
The bible tells us not to put our trust
in riches, and a great many men don’t at
the present day. Their total lack of
riches explains why.
A Minnesota fanner who has five
grown-up claim daughters, hassued the oounty
on a that his residence lias been
used as a “oourt-room” for the past two
years.
A Haddknftem) (Cape May) sign
reads: “Is cream salon cakes prettzeUs
and oanddy and oigars cistern and lodg¬
ing and horses wattered constantly on
hand."
It lias been said that poverty treads
upon the heels of great and unexpected
riches; hut then a newspaper man never
has corns on his heels, and he can
stand it.
Ppoprietok— “ If you boys don’t
clear out I’ll call that officer and have
you taken in.” Boy—“That’s where
you’d dad, be Is.” taken in; that policeman’s my
be
The church is the pew rest place on
earth .—Steubenville Herald. And one
can tell how of hymns good found the men are by the
number there.— Cincin¬
nati. Gazette.
Homebody wants to know why we do
not the go to of Europe. Well, the fact is if
that rest has Europe resembles here, the part
come over we’ve seen
enough of it .—Burlington Haw key e.
He talked love to her, and dove to her,
A nd tried to aq iiwjs t her b«nd,
While «he sat ui» a r d ‘yes-wd” and “noed,”
And yawned be dud uer fan—
(Bwhub© n « had eat up the night before.
With a fallow she hud an awful fondneiMi for.)
~-M*ubenvlllt) Herald.
The following advertisement appeared
lately notify in Patrick an Irish O’Flaherty, newspaper; “This is
to who lately
left his and lodgings, for the if he does he shall not return ad¬
soon pay same be
vertised.''
"Wehh, if I ever saw the like," re¬
marked Mr. Whiskyskin, as he mopped
the don’t perspiration where all this from his brow. “ I
see water comes from
that oozes through my pores. I haven’t
tasted the stuff for ten years.”
often What compelled a pity that a big heart is so
to keep company with a
small income?— N. Y. News. Bather,
compelled what a pity that a big income is so often
to keep company with a small
heart.
“ Do not know commas when you see
them?” said the village sobooi teacher
to the book-keeper education of a banking-house,
whose had been neglected.
“What are these (,, ,, „) on your gro¬
cer's bill?" “ Beers,” said he.
prepossessing PoniCB court scene—.Judge “What to an un¬
living?” tramp : are yonr
means of “lam an inventor.”
“ Ah, indeed. And what have you in¬
vented ?” “ Nothing as yet; but I am
on the lookout.”
Mhh, Domesticity calls at the kitchen
furnishing r store, ‘ ‘ Have you Cook’s
stowers ?' she asks The dealer is dumb
founded till he is shown an advertise¬
ment of “Cook’s Tours,” when he di¬
rected her to the nearest railroad office.
Ten residents of Waverly, who
wouldn’t do a day’s work for anything,
recently hauled over twenty cords of
wood to get a red Hquirrel that wasn’t
there.* Then they cracked a command¬
ment .—Owego Record.
Why is it that whisky straight will
make a man walk crooked ?—Boston
Globe. drink Why it. is Did it ? Why, it is 1 means©
you you never think of
that? You leave the whisky in the jug,
and it will not make you walk crooked.
Don’t blame the rooster for bragging
over every egg that is laid in the family.
Only human nature, nothing more. You
remember that when that bouncing boy
arrived at your house it wasn't the
mother who went about doing the orow
ing.
An Indian came to an agent in the
northern part of Iowa to procure some
whisky for a younger brother, who he
said had been bitten by a rattlesnake.
“Four quarts!” repeated the agent, with
surprise; “much as that?” “Yes,”
replied the Indian, “ four quarts; snake
very big."
Life in the Sea.
Brimful of life at its surface, the sea
would be encumbered if that prodigious
power what in of check production by the was antagonistic not kept some¬
that power
of destruction. Only imagine every
herring has from 50,000 to 70,000
eggs! If every egg was herring to produces 50,000
herring, and every
more, were there not an enormous
destruction going on, the ocean would
Tin” very soon be solidified and toward putrified. the
great cetacea drive them
shores, ever and anon diving into their
ranks and swallowing up whole shoal
The whiting eat their fry ; cod again here, de¬ the
vour the whiting. Yet, even fecundity,
peril of the sea, an excess of
shows itself in a still more terrible
shape. The cod lias up to 9,000,000
of eggs, and this creature, of such for
midable fsiwera of maternity, has nine
months of love out of twelve. No won¬
der fish that created the fishery of and this colonies. productive But
lias towns
even then, what would the power of He man is
tw, opposed to such fecundity which ? the
assisted by others, chief among Then, again,
sturgeon takes rank.
the sturgeon itself is a very fecund fish,
This devourer of cod has itself I,-
600,000 eggs. Another gro at de
vonrer duotive, is and not that proportionately is Urn shark. repro-