Newspaper Page Text
Ufa liSRatItnTscillf ^dcBtict
A *kTM%,
WatWn 8 vffle, Oconee Co. Georgia.
GK STTlAr.I'VA.K,
and normni
T K RMS:
---- »l M
- fH
NEWS GLEANINGS.
There are more than 200,000 Germans
in Texas.
Col. Fred Grant is to reside at Hous¬
ton, Tex., it is said.
In Lafourche, parish, La., there are
318 citizens named Williams.
The frontier battalion of Texas now
consists of five companies numbering
120 officers and men.
The Louisiana Sugar Bowl does not
hope for a large crop this year, for it is
at least a month late.
The Austin (Tex.) Statesman says
that the increase of the sheep flocks
shout Uvalde this year averages ninety
per cent., the largest known for a long
time.
The Charlotte Observer reports the
purchase of land near that city for the
purpose of smelting works. Ores will be
purchased from the owner of mines and
smelted and refined at the works.
Chattanooga Times: A terrible dis¬
ease prevails among the cattle in the
Seventeenth district of Bartow county,
Ga. It proves fatal in nine out of ten
cases. Not less than twenty milch COW8
have died within a mile of Euharlee in
the past ten days.
Mobile (Ala.) Register: The resigna¬
tion of Dr. Stuart Robinson retires from
active service in the Presbyterian church,
one of the ablest divines in the country.
Many of our readers will remember hear¬
ing Dr. Robinson preach when the Gen¬
eral Assembly of the Presbyterian church
South met here a few years after the
war.
Austin (Tex.) Statesman ; Galveston
having deprived herself of her natural
barrier against the encroachments of the
gulf waves by removing the sand hills
that had formed along the beach, is re¬
placing them, or aiding nature to do so
by planting hedges of salt cedars, against
which the sands drift and form natural
levees or break-waters.
The South Florida Journa 1 states that
Dr. A. C. Caldwell, of Sanford, has an
orange tree that is a curiosity worth go¬
ing to see. It is a large, fine tree, stand¬
ing just at his front gate. It has a good¬
ly number of ripe oranges on it, and
about 1,000 green ones half grown, the
tree having blossomed after the storm of
last August, and is now full of blooms
for another crop.
The Pulaski (Tenn.) Citizen says that
Dr. Lef twich, assisted by the Christians
of Pulaski, held a prayer meeting in the
court-house in that town before a very
large audience of country people, and
the editor states that it was one of the
most serious and effective meetings he
ever witnessed. Two neighbors, come
t > town to law each other, stepped into
the room where the meeting was being
held, and they soon had each other by
the hand and differences were forgotten
in embraces.
New Orleans States: Telephonic com¬
munication has already been established
between Vicksburg and Jackson, Miss.,
and verbal messages are sent over this
wire daily. Yesterday the exchange in
this city placed the telephonic attach¬
ments to a Western Union wire and
veiled' ‘Helloa” at Vicksburg. The lat¬
ter answered back, “What do you
want?” just as natural as you please.
This interchange of salutations placed
the two cities on speaking terms, as it
were, and business began at once. Every¬
body who had anything to say said it,
and those who had nothing to say said
it just to be sociable. Mr. G. W. Irby,
of Vicksburg, sent an order to Justin
Langles for several boxes of ginger-snaps
and crackers. The experimental con¬
nection was a decided success.
inc roller or , Kisses. ___
When Charles II. was making his tri
am phant progress through England presented cer
tain country ladies who were
to him, instead of kissing the royal hand
in their simplicity held up their pretty
lips to be kissed by willingly the King, a blunder than
no one would more excuse
the lover of pretty Nell Gwynne. Geor
giana, Duchess of Devonshire, gave
Steele, the butcher, a kiss for his vote
nearly a century since, and another
equally beautiful woman, Jane, Duchess
of Gordon, recruited her regiment in a
similar manner. A kiss from his mother
made Benjamin West an artist. “ Kiss
mother, before I sleep. ’’ How sun
me, soothing to the little
pie a boon, yet how
suppliant is that soft, gentle kiss. The
head sinks contentedly on the pillow
for all is peace and happiness within,
The bright and eyes and rosy lips
close, the little darling is soon
reveling in the bright and sunny dreams
of innoeence. Yes, kiss, mother, for
that good-night when kiss will linger in the
memory the giver lies moldering
in the grave. The memory of a gentle
mother’s kiss has cheered many a lonely
wanderer s pilgrimage and has been the
beacon ight to illuminate his desolate
heart; hfe has many a stormy billow to
cross, many a rugged path to climb, and
we know not what is in store for the lit
tie marring one so sweetly disturb slumbering, its with no
care to peaceful
dreams. The parched and fevered lips
will become dewy again as recollection
bears to the sufferer's couch a mother’s
love, a mother’s kies. Then kiss your
little one’s ere they kiaa sleep which ; there is a
rubric power in that will en
aure to the end of life .—Troy Times,
It takes 178 paymasters sod clerks to
?av S,0<» officer* and men in our little
isvy. Our naval officers are fine, manly
«Uo#s, but our havy is ridiculous.
The Watkinsville Advance.
VOLUME II.
WALLING MAT]
BY JOHN BROUGHAM, "■Mi
When winter winds are wailing,
And death rides on the breeze, i
With icy breath assailing ii
The Murk and sapless trees,
It grieves ns not lo see —
lor’tis their time to die
And with nil nature wither—
1 he leaves that round us fly. -
i
But when tbe day is teeming
And * ijh in life nnd path love is beaming and light, J
cur
It The saddens sun-ray of delight, /
us to see
O, ’tis a mournful thin*,
They The should untimely perish—
leaves that fall in spring.
B hat though young life has parted
From earth, ere spring has passed,
Or o'd and wenrv-hearted
It t ields to winter’s Must ?
O .1 it ve not but humbly bend
Submissive to tbe rail
Nor - corn their simple teaehh *—
'I he b'lvps th»t torn ' ns fall.
THE YANKEE SCHOOLMASTER.
On “Miller’s Hill” a farm-house; a
:owland structure built of wood; whose
dap-boards, weather-worn and gray, were
Jailing into slow decay; whose mossy
wooden rudely lane-troughs swung from rusty
irons hung; whose curling shin¬
gles here and there betrayed the need of
good repair; whose ancient chimney,
japped with stone, with lichens partly
ivergrown above the sagging roof, looked
lown upon the spires of Brandon town.
An old gray barn was built near by,
with heavy girths and scaffolds high,
mil solid sills and massive beams, and
through tho cracks and open seams the
danting sunshine used to play in golden
gleams upon the hay, children* where oft, with
played many a shout, the jumped and
about at hide and seek, or looked
with care for hidden nests in cormr s
there. Where oft at morn they usee to
hear the cackling lien and chanticleer,
where, by the broad floor ’neath the
nows, were cribs and stanchions for the
jows, and strong plank stalls where
horses stood to eat their hay from racks
of wood, and, in a comer stowed away, a
fanning-mill and old red sleigh. Where
jolly farm-boys husked at night the gold¬
en corn by candle-light, and hung their
lanterns by the bay on pitchforks thrust
into the hay, where, sheltered from the
threshed mtumn rain, with thundering flails they
the grain.
JSacn year tno num ot noney-bees was
heard amid the apple tree, the lilacs
bloomed, the locusts fair with their sweet
fragrance tilled the air; tho stubble fields
fell; were plowed and sown; the warm rain
the bright sun shone; the robins
sang; the green grass grew; the roses
blossomed in the dew; the tall red holly¬
hock once mere bloomed brightly by
the farm-house door; the sun-flower bent
its gaudy head; the cattle in the pasture
fed, the crickets chirped in meadows
near, sounds wero wafted to the ear o’er
waving fields of tasseled corn, of clatter¬
ing scythe and dinner horn. The reapers
reaped their golden sheaves; the swallows
left the stuccoed eaves; the apples in the
autumn breeze grew ripe and mellow
on the trees; tho leaves were swept about
the air; the fields were brown, the wood¬
lands bare; the snow-flakes fell; the air
grew chill; the sleigh-bells rang on “Mil¬
ler’s Hill. ”
The winter sky was overcast, the snow
and sleet were falling fast. ’Twas
Christmas eve; the air was cool; the
children hurried home from school, with
laughter loud and outcries shrill they
reached the farm-house on the hill, they
came across the kitohen floor, nor stopped
to shut the entry door, all striving first
the news to tell, exclaimed, in concert,
with a yell: “ The teacher’s cornin’ here
to stays he’s up tho road a little way; he
stopped to talk with Busan Stow, an’ we
ran home to let you know.”
The mother stopped her spinning
wheel, and put away her creaking reel,
swept up the dusty hearth with care,
rolled down her sleeves and brushed her
hair, smoothed out her rumpled gingham
gown, then, striving and inherroeking-chair sat down;
hard to look her best, she
calmly waited for her guest.
Her ruddy, round, and fleshy face was
bordered by a cap of lace; her nose was
cheeks nearly of hid healthy from view by her plump
hue; her eyes had were
bright, her hair was thin, sno a
heavy double chin; her husband’s arms,
when both embraced, could barely cir¬
cumscribe her waist.
Of all large women nine in ten will
most admire the little men, and little
men—why none may tell—will love large
women quite as well. They woo, they
wed, the man through life is quite o’er
shaaowed by the wife.
Soon, parting from his rustic flame,
the tardy young schoolmaster came. His
eyes were bine, his features fair, his chin
o’ergrown with downy hair; behind his
ears p,i s locks of brown wero smoothly
brushed and plastered down; his bony,
limbs were large and long; his well
trained muscles firm and strong; the tall,
gtout boys that years before had thrown
their master through the door his rod
regarded with dismay, and seldom dared
to disobey. The pride and hope of Hub
bardtou was tall Lycurgus Littlejohn, said:
w j JO i, a d, his follow-townsmen “A
heap o’ lamin’ in his head.” (Three
terms in Midblebury College had given
him his “heap” of knowledge.) the fair
He often used to sit between
young girls of sweet sixteen and kindly
help them “do their wins." They they
brought him fruit and sugar plums; fears; hfe
bad their girlhood hopes and
words were music in their ears; each
smile he gave them had a charm; each
frown would fill them with alarm,
Wliat envious looks at Susan Stow, his
favorite scholar they would throw,
Her eyes and hair were dark as night,
her skin was soft, and Binooth, and
white; a peach-like bloom her cheeks
overspread; her lips like cherries, ripe
ftn d red. What wonder he could not
conceal the glad, sweet thrill he use to
feel through all his palpitating frame
when to his desk she coyly came and,
looking np with eyes of love, like some
sly, timid little dove, would softly ask
him to expound some kuotty problem
she had found? What l>eing in the world
nelow seemed halt ss sweet as Susan
Stow? Her eyes would flash and, in re
turn, his face would flush and strangely
hum, and, w hen he tried to calculate
some long, hard “sum” upon her slate,
tjie figures danced before his sight like
white and, when
f Wfc h » P 1 **’ **.•**?•? “?»*
J- *»* * h " m,) w,tl '
WATKINSVILLE, GEORGIA, MAY 3, 1881.
The woman crossed the kitchen floor
to meet Lycurgus at. the door, and, with
a an' scrutinizing take st»r,o she said: ‘'Walk in
a chair, an’ be to home while
you are here. Come, Busby, take his
things, my dear.”
Forth from his corner, bv the fire, the
husband came at her desire. His head
was bald, save here and there, stray lit¬
tle tufts of grizzled hair; his shoulders
stooped, Iris form was thin, his knees
were long bent, his toes turned in ; he wore n
blue flannel frock, gray trousers,
and a satin stock; a cotton collar, tall
and queer, was rudely rumpled- around
each car; his face was mild, his smile « at
bland, as forth he put his ]>onderous
hand, and said: “I think I see von well.
I hope you’ll stay a Ieetle spell; we’re
plain folks hero I’d have you know, nnd
don’t go in for pride nor show. ” Then,
after stepping on the oat, he took tho
teacher’s coat and lint; he hung them on
a rusty nail, and, picking up his milking
pail, ho slowly shuffled out of doors anti
went to do the evening chores.
Close by the firelight's cheerful glare
Lycurgus drew the easy-chair. The
savory steam of chickens slain eftmo
from the black pot on the crane. The
kettle’s merry song he heard; upon the
hearth the gray cat purred; while, by
tho chimney-corner snug, the house doc
dozed upon the rug. Among the chim¬
ney-piece of wood an idle row of flat¬
irons stood, two candlesticks in bright
array, a pair of snuffers and a tray. The
time-worn clock ticked slowly on; it
struck tiie hours forever gone. “Forever
gone,” it seems to say—“Forever gone,”
from day to day, in its tall case oi
sombre hue—'twas fifty years since it
was new. Between the windows, small
and high, tho looking-glass was hung,
spread, near by; perched a brazen bird the scroll-work with wing 8 Ollfc
on over
head; beneath, a.shelf, the common home
of from family iron Bible, hooks brush, hung and comb; long frames, above,
wero
with apples the thickly strung, and, fixed
upon wall to dry, were wreaths of
pumpkin Forth kept for pie. the
from the buttry, to fire,
same Aunt BebeccaMcIntvre. a swallow
spinster, somewhat old, whose mellow
age was seldom told; her hair was gray,
her nose was thin, it nearly touched her
toothless chin. Life’s weary work and
constant care had worn a face that once
was fair.
Each Sabbath morn, from spring to
spring, within the choir Bhe used to sing,
in ancient bonnet, cloak, and gown, the
oldest relics in the town; beside the
chorister she stood, and always did the
best she could, and, while with tuning
fork, he led, she marked his movements
with her head, her nasal voice roso sharp
and queer above the deep-toned viol
near.
She took the black pot from the crane,
removed the kettle from tho chain, and
made the tea and chicken-broth, drew
out the table, spread the cloth; then,
from the table, bright and new, brought
the best china edged with blue.
The chores were done, the feast, was
spread; all took their seats and grace
was said. They ato the savory chicken
stow, so before juicy and rich so well cooked
through; them, round dump¬
lings swam, on steaming plates,
with cold boiled ham, with feathery
biscuit, warm and light, with currant
jam and honey, white and crowning all
a good supply of yellow, meatly ptimp
kin-pio. Where such a bounteous feast and
is found, who would not teach
“board around?"
The supper done, the father took from
off its shelf, the sacred Book, and rend of
one who stilled the sea one stormy night
in Galilee; then, kneeling down before
herd’s his chair, ho asked tbe heavenly Shep¬
care.
Soon from the group, with drowsy
heads, the children started for their
beds; took off the little shoes they wore,
and left them on the kitchen floor; then,
bidding nil a fond “good night,” with
pattering little feet, they how passed from they sight.
Dear feet, soon stray
from the old farm-house fur away; how
soon they leave the family fold to walk
the shining streets of where gold, where every
hope iind is real and sure; every heart
is and pure; where every dream is
bright and fair,—0! may we meet our
loved ones there!
The farmer loft his eozv seat, with
clattering slippers on his feet, went to
the cellar where he drew a mug of cider,
sweet and new, and from his broad bins
brought the best and ripest apples for
his guest. Then, lingered by the warm until fire’s late rud¬
dy light, they legends told, and tales at
night, made strange them all feel and
that nervous
afraid.
But “Aunt Rebecca ” watched in vain
the curling smoke above the crane ; she
nodded, dozed, began to* snore, she
dropped her knitting on the floor, awoke,
her eyelids heavier grew, arose and si¬
lently withdrew.'
Along the creaking stairs she crept, to
the lone chamber where she slept, and
close the window-curtains drew, to screen
herself from outward view. She stopped the
the key-hole of the door, she set
candle on the floor, looked ’neath the
valance—half afraid to find a man in
ambuscade; then sitting down, aside
with care she laid her garments on a
chair, slipped on shoes, her ghostly blew robe the of
white, took off her out
light, then, in the darkness, from her
head removed her wig and went to bed,
curled up, with chilly sobs and sighs, and
quivering shut her drowsy sleep eyes. alone,
Poor single souls who the
night wind hath a dismal tone to
your lone ears—you start with fear at
every midnight sound you heads hear, when
late at night with weary you creep
into your weary beds. The nights seem
long, your Ups turn blue, your feet grow
cold —you know they do I
She slept at last; she heard once more
tho ripple break upon the shore ; again
she sat upon the strand, and some one
else perl her fair young hand, and words
were whispered in her ear that long ago
she loved to hear, and, starting up, aha
cried in glee : “ I knew you would come
back to mo.” She woke. Aten! so
love was them , Her thin arms dream. clasped She
the vacant air. ‘Twaa but a
lived alone. Withont aha heard the night
wind moan, while oo the window pane*
the low snow the was wildly heating. From be¬
smothered sound of voices came
when still with Busby’s social dame.
Their guest sat by the fading fire and
watched its fleeting flame ekpire while
she listened, but no word they uttered
could be clearly heard ; but soon a recol¬
lection came that sent a shudder through
her frame—the sausage to lie fried at
morn, the lireAksast table to adorn, was
in the bedroom where their guest would
soon betake himself to rest. The clock
struck tert, she softly said, “I’ll get it
ere he goes to bed.”
The spare bed stood within a room ns
thill and humid as a tomb ; 'twns never
ured, 'twas seldom swept; in its damp
■omers spiders crept; they built their
bridges through the air, and no rmle
broom disturbed them there. Tho rain,
Shat fell on roof decayed, dripped through
the chinks that time had made, and on
the whitewashed walls ran down in won
Irons frescoes tinged with brown ; the
window-panes, with frost o’erspread,
were warmer than that icy lied. Cold
was the matting on tho floor ; cold blew
the breeze beneath the door ; cold wete
the straight-backed chairs of wood ; cold
was tho oaken stand that stood on spind
ling legs that looked as chill as lone, bare
nines on some bleak hill; high rose that
bed o’er things below, like some tall ice¬
berg highly capped honored with snow. Hero every
guest, when bedtime
came, retired to “rest.”
Within its large and moldy press hung
Mrs, Busbv’s best silk dress: her Sunday
against bonnet, the shoes, and shawl, on rusty nails
blue, that wall, by Mr. Busby's suit of
at his wedding had been new.
Here on a peg his best cravat reposed
within his old fur hat; here, shut from
sight of humnn eyes, were rows of mince
and apple pies, with rolls of sausage nnd
head-cheese, left stored on the shelves and
to freeze.
From out her cot the maiden crept,
slipped along on her shoes and softly Stepped
the hall and through the gloom un¬
til she reached the chilly room. Unseen
she crossed the icy floor, unheard un¬
locked the closet, door, snatched from
the shelf, in a firm hold, a hag of saus¬
age, stiff’ and cold, then turning quiokly,
sought to heat a sudden, safe, and sure
retreat. Too late! A light gleamed on
the wall, and sound of footsteps filled
the hall, then to the room came boldly
on the stalwart form of Littlejohn! She
backward stepped and stood aghast,
then closed the door and held it fast.
With ohattering teeth and trembling
frame across the floor Lycurgus came.
He placed the candle in his hand upon
the spindling oaken stand. Then closed
the door, and, with a frown, within a
cold chair settled down. He threw his
boots upon the floor, and, rising, tried
the closet door; but Aunt Rebecca, in
affright, clung to the latch with all her
migiit. To look within L^mrgns failed,
ho turned away and thought it nailed!
Then, pulling down tho snowy spread,
he put his warm brick in the bed, took
off nis clothes, and slipped between tho
sheets of ice, so white and clean, blew
out the light, and, with a sneeze, close
to his chin he brought his knees, be¬
neath the clothes he drew bis nose, and
tried in vain to find re pose; while “Aunt
Rebecca,” from the wall, took down the
Sunday them round gown her and freezing shawl, she wrapped
blushed, to keep her visage form, and
warm.
The paper curtains, loosely hnng upon
the windows, rustling swung, while
through of each quivering, narrow frame
frosty panes a dim light came that
made the furniture appear like dusky
phantoms crouching near. Lycurgus
listened in the storm and hugged his
brick to keep him warm, but colder
grew the humid bed, the clothes con¬
gealed around his head; to feel at case in
vain side he side; tried; he tossed and turned from
to each time he moved, be¬
neath his weight the bedstead creaked
like some farm-gate. His brick grew
cold, he could not sleep, a strange sen¬
sation seemed to creep upon him, while
across the floor he closely watched the
closet-door.
Wm he hut dreaming? No! his eyes
beheld, with wonder and surprise, wliat
man had never seen before—th ere was a
movement at the door. It slowly turned
and to his sight came, through the dim,
uncertain light a hideous hand, that in
its clasp some awful object seemed
w ful grasp, head, a seemed crouching slowly form, with fright¬
the bed. He heard the coming towards
creak, he could not stir, rusty he hinges
could
not speak, he could not turn his head
away; he shut his eyes and tried to
pray; upon his brow of palid hue the
cold sweat stood like drops of dew; at
last he shrieked, aloud and shrill—the
door swung back and all was still.
That midnight cry, from room to
room, resounded loudly through the
gloom. The farther and his wife at rest,
within their warm and coxy nest, swoks
and sprung, in strange attire, forth from
their bed loud shouting—“fire!” But.
snaing neitner smoke nor name, soon
stumbling bedqnilt* up the stairs they came. they In
cotton heard deep quaintly from their dressed,
full of a groan and affright, guest, pushed ana, in
won aer
the door and struck a light.
Deep down within the feather bed
Lycurgus of had withdrawn his head, and,
out sight, lay quaking there, with
throbbing breast and bristling hair.
Thev questioned him. but he was still;
be shook as if he had a chill, the cour¬
age was Littlejohn. completely gone from tall Ly
cnrgtis
What human language can express,
the modest maiden’s dire distress, while
standing still behind the screen, a sad
spectator of the scene ? What pen or
pencil can portray her mute despair and
deep dismay 7 A while she stood, and
through bed the door she peeped across the
and room like floor; the war was clear,
a vise she grasped the sausage,
cold as ice, sprang from the closet, and
from sight she glided like a gleam of
light, flow away without a look or word, she
like sn affrighted bird; without s
moment of delay, the mystery clearrA
itself away! 0
Again the snow gleams on the ground,
"gain the sleigh-bells gayl v sound, again
on “Milter’s Hill” wo liear tbe shouts of
children loud aud clear; but in the barn
is heard ao more the flapping flail nt *-!.
the floor. The house ie down, it* in-’
mutes gone, and tall Lycurgus Little
John i* now an old man. worn with earn,
with stooping form and silver hair. He
married dark-eyed Susan Stow, and they
were When, happy, in years ago.
the merry winter-time, their
children’s children round him climb, he
tolls them of his fearful fright, on that
far distant winter night; and. after tliev
are put to lied, when by tho fire with
bers nodding head lie sits and siuks to slum¬
sleep, deep, and quakes and shivers in his
alas! he is but dreaming still of
that spare bed on “Miller's Hill "—
Eugene J. Half, in Chicago Tribune.
Tile Homes of America.
It is not a mere accident that tin
homes of America are the most comfort
able and comforting on earth. Nor IU‘(
these home comforts due simply to me
ohanical skill or economic judgment,. ,
country which has limited tho powers < I
its government stimulates society, and
highly moral society produces the most
perfect homes which human eyes 01
poe tie visions can behold. No one knows
tho American system well who <1 <m snot
know the American homo. Our political
system is publicity itself; American so¬
terised; ciety has never yet been fully charac¬
while the best result of both, the
perfeot eral home, has been praised in gen¬
plained Terms, but not described and ex¬
in its true fullness. The novel
writers, from whom such descriptions
might ionsly be expected, have failed ignomin
in their attempts at showing tlr
maturest results of our social system.
Yet this system is unique, ami ‘ it is a
marked advance upon all Europe an
models. The English home approaches
the American home, while the German
Jiome approaches the English; but the
ideal American home, not rarely realized,
has a comfort, a character and a dignity
all its own. It may seem to he wanting
in the graces, traditions and responsi¬
bilities peculiar to tho best English
homes; it surpasses them in moral dig¬
nity; ing the it differs from all tho others in be¬
result of a highly-refined civilize
tioa; it is the best and purest outcome of
our ethical system. There lias been
much pleasant banter about the great
American novel that is lo come. Let it
not dwell too much on politics; British
politics are larger than ours. Let it not
tell too much of busy people; the French
are as industrious and industrial as we
are. Let it not confine itself to analysis
of character or sentiment; other nntions
hftvo both in abundance. Let it describe
the purest and sweetest of American
homes and let it describe, not an ideal,
but that reality which distinguishes the
American home from all others, and
shows it to be the best outcome of our
history, Kcial onr political institution and our
system. —Boston A dvertiser.
A Cnrlons Client.
A Brooklyn newspaper man received
i note from a law firm, Smith, Jones k
Smith, notifying him that a claim against
him for several dollars had been placed
in their hands for collection, and in¬
self structing him that lie could save him¬
some trouble if he’d come around
and talk tho matter over. The journal¬
ist wae perfectly prepared to converse
on the subject, hut disinclined to pay,
so ho dropped in on Smith, Jones A
Smith, business ana notified them that he had
some for them.
“ There’s a man in this town threatens
to sue me,” said he, “ and I’m prepared
to spend any amount to beat him. Gan
you undertake to carry me through ? ”
ft Smith, “OrUinly to whom 1 ’’ejaculated Smith, Jones
the newspaper man
w»« What a stranger.
“ I want to do is to bother him,"
observed the client. “Gan I bother
him, whether I owe him or not?”
Smith, “ Well, we should smile 1 ’’ remarked
Jones ft Smith. "It’ll take him
twenty “You years, if we work the case.”
said the are client, strangers to mo, gentlemen,”
highly spoken "though I hear yon
of. Now, suppose he
slum Id sue me, how would you go to
work ? ”
“First, we should stave off tho mi
swer. Then we would take a lot of
depositions de bene esse. Just before
tho trial we would issne a commission to
nxamine witnesses in Siberia; other
witnesses would be taken; wo would
have such engagements that we would
stave the trial off, and if he got a judg¬
ment we would appeal. Yes, sir, heVl
use “But up twenty what years would getting the the money. ”
other side be to all this lawyers time? on the
np I’m
told they're pretty smart fellows.”
‘ ‘ Don’t care. Who are they 1 ’’
“ I don’t, remember their names, but I
have got their letter. Here! what’s
this? By Jove, gentleman, they're
Bmith, Jones ft Smith 1 ”
The partners looked aghast.
“I hope that nothing I've said will lie
used against me,’’said the client, look¬
ing from one to the other. “ I trust,
gentlemen, this that you won’t give rne
away in matter. It’s an awful blun¬
der on my part, but I sincerely hope
you won’t take any ml vantage of it.”
consultation. Smith, Jenea & Smith held a brief
“Am I in much peril?” asked t)ie
client anxiously.
“ We think not,” said Smith, Jones ft
Bmith. “ We are—eh—are—we are pre¬
parer! won’t to drop the proceedings. We
mention it, if yon won’t.”
“ 111 agree not to mention any name,”
FH replied the client, with a grin, “sod
promise you my business in the
future.”
There was some further conversation
at an adjacent hotel, their and, gentle reader,
the only trouble is names were not
Smith, Jones ft Smith.
Slave Trade.
The slave trade in Africa is still en¬
ormous. Dr. Livingstone estimated the
traffic for all Africa at 600,000 yearly.
Got Gordon put* the loss of life in the
Soudan alone at 80,000 to 60,000 annu¬
ally. JWwf Pasha, who was left to
carry out the wo*k begun by Col. Gor
don for the suppression of the slave
the trade, iniquity is proving is encouraged Its active by abettor the Egyp- and
tten Government, “’Hie sale and pur
chase of human beings *ckla continue* to bo
liftvutiocd Yemen, to* a large in the U*4g«y
Nubia, Abywunte and at various
points on the coast. Men, women sod
fIdldraa are sold aa beset* ot hurdea,
NUMBER 9.
Life of the Czar of Russia.
Tho following brief sketch of the Czar’s
life is taken from Chambers’ Encyclo¬
pedia:
Alexander II., Emperor of Russia, was
horn April 29, ISIS. He was carefully
educated by his father, Nicholas, who
manifeseations professed himself delighted Roman with the
of true spirit in
his son. At. sixteen ho was declared
of age, and made Commandant of the
Lancers of the (biard Hetman of the Cos¬
sacks, First Aid-de-Camp of the Em¬
peror, and subject daily to a life of ma¬
which neuvering, last reviewing and military parade,
at seriously injured his health.
He then traveled through Germany to
recruit his energies, and while there eon
eluded a marriage with the Princess
Maria, daughter of the Grand Duke of
Darmstadt in 1841. He now vigorously
applied cellor himself to his studies as Chan¬
of the University of Finland. By
his dexterous and subtle manners lie
insinuated himself into the affections of
the Finns, and weakened their love of
independence. He founded a chair of
the Finnish language and literature,
patronized Finnish tho Academy for the culture
of literature, and defrayed tho
expenses tions undertaken of numerous by the remote 'expedi¬
Cygnoeus, Wallin and Coatron. savants, such as
In 1850
he visited Southern Russia, Nickolaieff,
Sebastopol, said Tiflis, Erivon, Ac. It is
he witnessed with regret the atti¬
tude which liis father assumed toward
Europe, and that I 10 altogether disap¬
proved of the Crimean War. On his
accession to the throne, March 2, 1855,
I 10 found himself in a critical position,
lie had two parties to conciliate at
home—tho old Muscovite party, blindly
zealous for war, and tho more peacea¬
ble and intelligent portion of the Nation,
who possessed his personal sympathies.
Ho pursued a course calculated to en¬
courage policy both; spoke of adhering to tho
of his illustrious ancestors, and at
the same time concluded peace. Since
then ho 1ms shown a strong desire to
purge the internal administration of its
impurities. Ho has sharply rebuked the
corruption of functionaries, and severely
punished some os a warning to the rest.
An honorable recognition lias been given
to public instruction, which lie 1ms freed
from military influence where that ab¬
surdity 3t. Petersburg, existed, as in the law schools of
and has placed it under
his own direct and personal superintend¬
ence. His moderation has even stimu¬
lated the hopes of the Poles. By a ukase
of May 27, 1856, he lias granted to all
Polish exiles who uro willing to express
repentance for the past, permission to
preserving return home; but, though desirous of
tho nationality of Poland, he
will not separate it from the Great Rus¬
han Family. The grand achievement of
bis reign, however, as yet is the emanci¬
pation of tho Russian serfs in 1861, anil
of the Polish serfs in 1807. An uttempt
was made to assassinate him at Paris,
Juno 6, 1867, when on a visit to Naiae *
loon HI.
A Persian Legend.
It is related of a Persian mother, on
giving her son forty pieces of silver as
liis portion, that she mode him swear
never to tell a lie, and said, “Go, my
son; I. consign thee to God, and WO
shall not meet again till the day of judg¬
ment.”
’Die youth wont away, and the party
he traveled with were assaulted by rob¬
bers. One fellow asked the boy wliat
he had, and he answered, with a candor
that “Forty surprised his questioner;
dinars are sowed up in my
garments. ”
The robber laughed, thinking the boy
jested. Another asked him the HIIII1C
question, and received the same an¬
swer. At last the chief called him, and
naked what he had. The boy replied:
“ I have told two of your people al¬
ready that I have 40 dinars sewed up in
noy clothes,”
The chief ordered his clothes to he
ripped “And open, how and the money was found.
came you to tell this?”
“Because,” replied the boy, “I would
not he false to my mother, whom I sol¬
emnly "(’fluid,” promised said never the chief, to tell a lie.”
"art thou so
mindful of thy duty to thy mother,
while I am insensible, at my age, of the
duty I owe to God ? Give mo Iliy hand,
that I may swear repentance on it.” He
did so, and his followers were struck
with the scene,
“You have been our leader in guilt,”
they said to the chief, “ ho the same in
the paths taking of virtue.” boy’s hand,
And, tbe they took
the oath of repentance on it.—The lAUle
Gem, and Kindergarten.
A Just Rebuke.
Home Englishmen New were making an
excursion in guides Zealand, and enguged
natives as and to carry their lug¬
gage. On the first Sabbath, the Euro¬
peans were the proposing suid to journey as usu¬
al, but natives :
“ No ; we rest on the Sabbath.”
The chief of the guides was a Christian
man, ayd stood firm. The Englishmen,
like too many of their country men when
abroad, forgot the religion of their early
refused days. They got them into a if great they rage, did and
to pay not
obey orders. The natives asked ;
‘ ‘ What are ws to do with the law oi
God?”
An “ What Englishman answered: do with the law
have wo to of
God? What is that to ua?”
One of tho natives retorted :
“ You have much to do with that. If
it were not for the tew of God we should
not remain quiet on your refusing to
pay us for out labor. We should have
taken by force what yon have, and
robbed, if do not with killed, the you. of You God.” have that
much to tew
Wh.ft was the end of this strange
sc«io we (lo not know, hat we hope that
among these Englishmen there was suf¬
ficient manliness unexpected and good rebuke, feeling U> ac¬
cept the and to
honor the Maori for his firmness and
oiincinie
“Yon must not play with that little
girl, toy dear,” said an injudicious pa
»e«t. “But, ma, I like her; she is a
good little girl, and I am sure she dresses
to grotty as over I do, and she tins lots ot
toys plied ” “J mu not help that, my dear,’
r< the foolish mother; “her father
is f shoemaker.” "IM I don't (day with
her fattier, 1 play with bur; she ain't a
sin* msker,”
tflto IMinBrillt gUama,
A VI >r PAFse, mLim at
WatkiruvHle, Oconee Co., fietrgte.
PATES OF ADVERTISING:
0»« nqoaro Urn in«rUon.™...„„,..„.
Each s»biequ*nt insertion..........—........... m
On. __
Ou« rquire, out mastta............................ 3 m
Ona (quart, Hraa moat ha. • •••t .ii.aa.l aaa------ S
tquara, its montoa... ataaaaaaanaaaaaa.aM aa 7 m
Out .qoa.a ana yaar........................... ...... 1* M
Ona-fourth aolnaa, ana moalfc,_____......... _ ID
Cta-founb oalamu, tkrea Mtolba..—... * m
Ona-tonrth tolumn, at* maaUia..... Eli
One-fenrtti talana, ona yam.........
Half nnlnnia, ona nantk...........
Hail aalaana, vkraa aaaatfca..........
Half aalaaia, atx aaaolaa.......... ~ 5 5
Hal# aalana, aaa yanr...............
1L T rmm m< ■PA
PITH AND POINT.
Bosom companions—Studs.
A sheet and pillow-case party—The
bedbugs.
Habd money is not hard to get when
ouo has a soft job.
Boarding-house butter solves the
question of “rapid rancid.”
“A new way to pay old debts” is to
tako the cash and pay them.
A von no lady at a ball called her bean
an Indian because he was on her trail all
tho time.
It was a Connecticut minister whose
salary was $25 a year and half tho fish
he caught.
A temptation for milkmen to emigrate
to Kansas is tho fact that extensive chalk
beds oxist there.
Why cannot a gentleman legally pos¬
sess a short walking-stick ? Because it
can never be long to him.
Why is tho money you are in the habit
of giving to the poor like a newly-born
babe ? Bocauso it’s precious little.
An Indian chief, after the romantic
manner of his nation, calls his musket
smooth “BookAgent,” Loci'. because it is an old
'* I v o’or that wall you laap, you dunce, **
The JiKhtniiiK’H stroko would harm you Jens.”
He Iphjh'iI ; off went htn head at once-
“ Ho much,” aaid ho, “ for llouinlus.”
A. lecturer says, “ Fullness under
the eye denotes language.” He has
probably thing he has been knocked down for some¬
said,
“Oh, woe is mo,” exclaimed the boy
of the house in the midst of his work,
“ to have sawed what I have sawed, and
saw what I see 1 ”
Boston has established an “Institute
of born Heredity.” into Children who wish to be
poor but distinguished fami¬
lies should apply early.
Observing littlo brother’s remark be¬
fore a room full of company ; “I know
what made that red mark on Mary’s
nose ; it was the rim of John Parker’s
hat 1 ”
Play spades if you would win pota¬
toes ruffian ; play play clubs if yon would deal with
a ; hearts if you would win
friendship; win play diamonds if you would
a woman.
“How li int its father 1” said the'
whose nurse, father on the christening of a baby
was over 70. “Very like,”
said a satirical ludy ; “ bald, and not a
tooth in its head. ”
Galveston “Doctor,” said Julias Oassar to a
must be doctor, “I think my liver
out of order. ” “ What are your
symptoms ? ” “ Well, after I have taken
ten or fifteen toddies I fall asleep, and as
soon as I wake up I am tormented with,
thirst .”—Galveston News.
“ The mainspring of Italian musio in
tho eighteenth century*” nays a recent
writer, “ was the exclusive and passion¬
ate music worship has of the human voice.” Italian
mainspring experienced a change. Its
now is in a box, and is
worked with a handle.
USEFUL HINTS.
To take fresh paint off a woolen gar¬
ment rub tho spots with stale bread un¬
til removed.
Lemons can bo kept sweet and fresh
'for months by putting them in a clean,
light cask or jar, and cover with cold
water. Tho wuter must be changed as
often ns once every other day, and the
cask kept in a cool place.
To Destroy Ants.—T ake earlsdio
acid diluted with water—take one part
acid to ten parts water—and with «
syringe throw this liquid into ah the
crocks and holes where they nest, and
nuts will soon vanish. Goekroacherf are
also driven away by it.
When sewing buttons on children’s
clothes where there will be much strain
on the hutton, the danger from tearing
the (doth out will he greatly lessened by
putting a small button directly under
the larger outside hutton. This app Uea
if course, only to buttons with holes
through them.
liiofi An infesting exchange house says : plants, “For worms and
several rend
rs recommend watering them with lime
water. Close the opening at the bottom
of the pot, (ill with lime water and let it
stand for an hour or two, then remove
(die plug at the 1 Kit torn and drain it off.
It one application is insufficient, try a
second. ”
To oivk a beautiful gloss to shirt
tiosoms, procure two ounces of fine
white gum arubic und pound it to pow¬
der, put it into a pitcher and pour on to
it a pint or more of boiling water, ac¬
cording to the degree of strength it,' you
desire, and then, having covered let
it set all night. In the morning pour it
carefully bottle, from the dregs keep it into for a clean
cork it, and further
stirred use. A table-s]>oonful starch of gum-water
into a pint of that 1ms
been made in the usual manner will give
a beautiful gloss to shirt-bosoms, and to
lawns (either white or printed) a look of
newness them to which washing. nothing else It can
restore after is also
good for thin white muslin and all kinds
of laces.
To Clean Mirrors. — Ti%e a news¬
paper or part of one, Fold according it small to the
*ize of the glass. and dip
it into » basin of clean cold water ; when
thoroughly wet squeeze it out in your
hand as you wonld a sponge, and then
rub it hard all over the face of the glass,
taking care that it is not so wet as to
run down in streams. In fact, tho paper
must only be through. completely After moistened the or
(temped all well rubbed with glass
has been wet paper,
let It rest for a few minutes, and then
go over it with a fresh hand) dry newspaper
(folded small in your till it looks
dear and bright, which it will almost.
immediately and with no further trouWe.
This method, simple expeditious as it for is, is the
best aud most cleaning
mirrors, and it will be found so on trial
-giving a oleanneea and polish that
can lie orodueed by no other process.
At tho Imginniug of the etgnwmth
century the English language was spoken
by lc** than eight millions of people; at
the beginning of tho nineteenth by only
twenty of the million*, mid now with one-fifth
ml, century it is the yet Ix-fopi it in which to
»pri mother tongue, of ninety
millions.