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& 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-