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$ n I 4 By Jones & Lehman. THE ADVANCE. PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY SUBSCRIPTION RATES. One copy, one year,............... $1 50 One copy, six months,............ 75 One fcopy, three months,.......... 50 (STRICTLY IX ADVANCE.) ADVERTISING RATES. Space | 1 w | 1 m | 3 iu | 0 m ! 1 yr. " I sq’r 1.00 2.50 5.00 8.00 12.00 “w u 1.75 4.00 8.00 12.00 18.00 it 2.50 5.00 12.00 18.00 25.00 .07 4.00 8.00 16.00 25.00 85.00 col 6.00 10.00 25.00 35.00 60.00 1 col 10.00 15.00 35.00 60.00 100.00 One inch constitutes a square, and there are twenty squares in a column. Special notices in the local column, ten cents per line for each insertion. Professional cards inserted for $8 a year. The above rates will not be deviated from as they have not been made with a view to reduction. Advertisements must take the run of the paper, as we do not contract to keep 1 hem in any particular place. insertion, and Bills are due after the first the money will be called for when needed. Short communications on matters of pub¬ lic interest and items of news respectfully solicited from every source. LEHMAN, JONES & Editors and Prop’rs. Laws Relating to Newspapers. The following are laws passed for the protection of publishers: 1. Subscribers who do not give express notice to the contrary, are considered as wishing to continue their subscription. discontinu¬ 2. If subscribers order the ance of their periodicals, the publisher may continue to send them until all arrearages are paid. subscribers neglect refuse to take 3. If or their periodicals from the office to which they are directed, they are responsible ordered un¬ til they have settled their bills and them discontinued. 4. 11'subscribers move to other places, without informing the publisher and the papers are sent to the former address, they urc. held responsible. receives 5. Any person who a newspaper and makes use of it. whether he has or¬ dered It or not, is held in law to he a sub¬ scriber . 6. If subscribers pay in advance, they are bound to give notice to the puhlislier wish at the end of their time,if they do not to continue taking the paper, otherwise the publisher is authorized to send it on and. the subscriber will be responsible until ex¬ press notice with payment of al) arrears is sent to the publisher._ BAIL ROAD SUBLDULK—ARLINGTON EXTENSION. Leaves Arlington on Tuesdays, H'ednes- ■days, Fridays anil Saturdays at 8:00 a. in. Arrives at Albany on same days at 11:05 a. m. ‘Leaves Albany on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays at 4:23 n. ill. Ar- rives at Arlington ou same days at 7:10 p. m. LODGE DIRECTORY. ARLINGTON LODGE, NO. 249, Afeets 1st Tuesdays and 3rd Saturdays each month. Officers: W. T. MurehisoD, IV. M. S. M. Calhoun, 8. IV. T no. IV. button, J. IV. II. K. Taylor, S. D. IV. II. Davis, J. D. 11. M. Goode. Tyler. E. C. Ellington, Treasurer. Geo. V. Pace, Scc’y.______ County Directory. SUPERIOR COURT. lion. W. O. Fleming, Judge; J. IV. Wal¬ ters,Solictor General; J. H. Co ram, Clerk. Spring term convenes on second Monday i.i March; Fall term on first Monday iu Sep¬ tember . COUNTY OFFICERS. A. I. Monroe, Ordinary;!V. Tax IV. Collector; Gladden, Sheriff; John A. Gladden, Zack Thomas F. Cordray, Tax Receiver; Lang, col., Coroner. COUNTY COURT. L. G. Cartlege, Judge. Quarterly scs- sioners, 4th Mondays in February, May, August and November. Monthly sessions, every 4th Monday. COUNTY SCHOOL COMMISSIONER. J. J. Bees COUNTY SURVEYOR. Jesse E. Mercer. COMMISSIONERS R. R. John Colley, C. M. Davis, and J. T. B- Fain. Courts held 1st Tuesday in each month. ROAD COMMISSINERS. 574th District— Sol. G. ifeekom, A. J. Sanders and District—T. Irwin Douglass. H. Rogers, W. J. 1316th Godwin and Wesley Eish. 1123d District— L. G. Cartledge, M. W. Bell and J. W. Brown. McDan D Wand R J C G7colliI;. ^ 626th District— P. E. Boyd, B. F. Bray and J. T. P. Daniel. 1305th District —J. A. Cordray, IV. II. llodnett and Morgan Bunch. JUSTICES OF THE PEACE AND NOTARIES PUCLIC. 574th District. —Sol. G. Bcekcom, J. P.; Clias. F. iflocker, N. P. and Ex-officio J. P. Courts held second Saturday in each mont h. 1123d District —J. L. Wilkerson, J. P., John Harty, N. P, Courts held 2nd Thurs¬ day in each month. 026th District-— J. C. Price, J. P.; N. TV. Pace, N.P. Courts held 3rd Satur¬ day in each month • 1283d District —C . J. McDaniel, J. P. Courts held 1st Saturday in each Bunch, month. 1304th District— Morgan J. P.; J.A. Cordray, N. P. Courts held 1st Saturday in each month. 1316th District —D. II. Holioway, J. I’.; iieunon Strickland, N. P. WHEN WJf AEE OLD AND GRAY. When we ar<eld and gray, love, When we ire old and gray, When at last 'tis all, all over, The tunnel of the day, In the still, sift hours of even, hi our life S fair twilight time, We look upon! the morn, love— Upou our itrly prime. “Thauk t7od for all the sweet days!” ire'll whisper when we may, When we arijold and gray, love, When we are old and gray. IHien we were and gay, love, When we were young and gay, When distant seemed December, And all was golden May : Amid our life's hard turmoil Our true love made us brave. We thought not of to-morrow, We reck’d not of the grave; So far seemed life’s dim twilight, So far the close of day, When we were young and gay, love, When we were young aud gay. Now we are old and gray, love, Now we arc old and gray, The night-tide shadows gather, !f r e have not long to stay. The last sere leaves have fallen, The bare, bleak branches bond, Put your dear hands In mine, love— Thus, thus we’ll wait the end. “Thank God for all the gladness !” In peaceful hope we’ll say, Now we are old and gray, love, Now we are old aud gray. “For Pity’s Sake.” “Fred, Miss Houghton is to arrive this evening. Would yon mind going down in the carriage to meet her? I can’t get off myself, and it will seem forlorn enough to find only an empty 'carriage awaiting her.’’ A prolonged whistle proceeded from the depths of the luxurious arm chair into which the young man addressed (pretty little Mrs. Vere's bachelor brother) had cscoiuled himself. He w»s a handsome man of the blond type, enjoying a few week’s furiogh from the army duties in sister’s house. The laziist man in the regiment he was called, but the bravest as well, with now and then a sudden light in his clear gr y eyes which lent morneu tary insight into the hidden strength and meauing of his nature. “Miss Houghton?’’ lie now drawled out, somewhat interrogatively, in re spouse to the demand made upon him. •‘You mean the children’s new gov¬ erness, I suppose—a demure spinster of forty or thereabouts; or, worse still, a young, gushing creature, bereft, in one fell blow, of fortune aud friends. Seriously, Nannie, it’s an awful bore, and, considering that my cap¬ tain’s pay won’t admit of my matri¬ monial schemes, I think, perhaps, it would be as well not to put false ideas in this young (?) woman’s bead by seuding mo to greet her.’’ “Don’t go Uncle Fred,’’ chimed in the children, aged respectfully six aud eight. “We don’t want any govern¬ ess.’’ “Hush, children! Don’t worry me, Fred! Do go, like a good fellow! I assure you, from all I heur of Miss Houghton, she is a charming medium between your two adsurd comparisons, and will probably give you no second thought. Here comes the carriage to the door. .Now, Fred, don’t miss her?’’ “No hope of that,’’ he groaned, as lie lifted himself lo his six-feet stature, and moved leisurely to the door. A half hour later, the Eastern train came puffing and snorting into the station. Only a few passengers had this point for their destination. lie watched them descend with calm in- difference when suddenly lie started. f * oun S lady ’ qisietl - v ’ but ™bly dressed, passed him, the light from the lamps falling full ou tho clear cut features, and revealing their faultless beauty. In her arms she carried a little dog. She directed her course to the station-master. ‘Can I get a vehicle here to take me to Mrs. Vere’s?’ she questioned. ‘Mrs. Vere’s own carriage is wait- ing. Her brother, Captain Osgood, came down, expecting some friends.’ ‘Then I will not intrude upon them.’ But at this instant the yoong officer stepped to her side. The carriage is at yonr service, miss, Pardon me, and allow me to introduce myself as Captain Osgood, Mrs. Vere’s ARLINGTON, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 22 , i 8 8i . brother.’ ‘I have heavdjof yon,’ sho answered, smiling, and disclosing two rows of white, even teeth. ‘I am very glad to meet you.’ Aud in proof of the words, sho ex¬ tended one tiny, perfectly-gloved hand. ‘Good for a governess, upon my word, aud dosen’t answer much to Nan’s description,” thought Mr. Fred. But, notwithstanding, he felt quite warreuttd in meeting the frank ad¬ vance very Cordially, and soon, in their homeward drive, after first disposing of what Seemed to him an unwar- ran ablo amount of baggage, they were chatting away like old friends. When the house was reached, Cap¬ tain Osgood withdrew, lie would let the women meet clone, and not betray the momentary weakness into which he had been beguiled. ‘Mrs. Vere is in the library, miss,’ proclaimed the butler. The young lady followed him to the door indicated. ‘Well, Fred, you were disappointed, after all,’began the mistre s of the room, without turning her head, as her quick ear detected the opening of the door. ‘Miss Houghton’s letter, apprised me of her sudden illness and consequent detention, arrived just af¬ ter yon left the house. It was too—’ But her sentence remained unfinish¬ ed, as some one stole softly behind her and clasped two tiny gloved hands close over her eyes. ‘Who can it be?’ she questioned. The bands were withdrawn. She looked up. ‘Flossie!’ she exclaimed, and rapt¬ urously clasped the girl in her arms. ‘ Where did you come, from?’ was her /list question, when she found bieatb.’ ‘Straight from Paris, dear. When I reached New York, I heard that you were up in your country home, and so I determined to coma immediately up and take you by surprise. I intend to spend at least a fortnight with yon »»« cherc, so you must make the best of i.t’ 'A fortnight! I shall bold you gar risoned for the summer. But tell me —did you see Fred, and introduce yourself?’ ‘My dear, he seemed to know me. I found your carriage waiting; lie pre¬ sented himself in due form; 1 accepted the goodi the gods gave, and asked no further xnestious. ’ Mrs. Vere hurst into a ripple of ir¬ repressible laughter. ‘Flossie,’ she excluimd, ‘lie has mis¬ taken you for tho children’s governess. What will he say when he learns the truth?’ And she repeated the conversation as it had occured before his leaving the house. A sudden idea seemed to seize upon her listener. ‘Let us keep it up, Nannie,’ she pro possd, gleefully. ‘We can tease him to our heart’s contcut. I will sink my identity in that of Miss Houghton, and persecute him with my attentions. For a moment the sister’s heart mis¬ gave her, hut after all what harm could it do her? and so it was agreed, and nextmorniug the children were duly pre sented to their new governess'. They had anticipated her advent somewhat as a reign of terror. They now wondered, as tho days wore on, why they had always heretofore been deprived of such luxury. For two hours they were closed each mornning in Miss Houghton’s own, prelty morning-room, the prettiest room in the house mama had given her; but, strange to say, brother Fred seemed to consider it quite the prop- per thing, under the circumstances. For two hours, then, it was their daily prison—but such a prison! Can¬ dies and story-books were generously distributed, with but one prohibition, that when Uncle Fred questioned them about their studies, they should not divulge to him the fact that they were growing fat and lazy. But uncle Fred was too absorbed in his own thoughts to watch the children. For the first time i.t his life, he began to make serious calculations as to how far a captain’s pay might go, and whether by any amount of stretching, and aDy improbable bachelor sacrifices, two,’ it might be enabled to supply when heretofore it bad been coosider- ed whol inadequate for one. ‘I have sworn I would never marry and heiress,’ he said to himself, when the household had glided ou changing for some three weeks, the world would consider me that des- pisable thiug, a fortune huntor, or that the woman herself might one day misjudge me; and 1 have sworn to marry a poor woman, because it would entail too much mutual sacri¬ fice. And yet, and yet, I wonder if she loves me —I wonder if I could make her happy ?’ Ho Had found in these three weeks, the two moruiug hours of the childrens tasks ihe longest of the day. lie had iusisted that the governess looked pale and preseibed for her a daily ride. She had no opportunity, as she had laugh¬ ingly declared, to persecute him with her attentions, blit rather, as time wore on, to show them with a certain shyness, new and foreign to the girl’s nature. Meantime the conspirators sat in the library, scanning, with perplexed brows, a letter open before them. It announced Miss Houghton’s ar¬ rival ou the evening of that day. What was to be done? The arch* conspirators solved the question. hSay you are displeased with me and I will return to New York to night. The new governess will arrive. His leave expires in a week. After he goes, I return. ‘Very like Victor Hugo, my deft*’,’ retorted Mrs. Vere, ‘as to the pithiness of your sentences; but I fear it won’t flow ns smoothly as you immngiee. ’ ‘ What does this mean?’ ejneslioned Captain Osgood, a few hours later, of his sister. I hear the carriage is or ¬ dered for the seven o’cl jck train to take Miss Houghton to the depot.’ ‘She is not quite my idea of a gov¬ erness,’ meekly and tremblingly an swered Mis. Vere, quailing before bis face and flashing eye. He cast upon her the first look of contempt he had ever given her, and turned a# *y ju*t in time to catch the flutter of ft white dress upon the lawn. Straightway he went toward it. ‘I did not mean to be abrupt, Miss Houghton,’ he began, when, with quick strides, he had gained her side, ‘but I hear that yen must find another home. Would you accept one if of fared you—very unworthy your beauty and yonr grace, but guarded by a man’s honest love? I loveyou, darling- Will you he. my wife, and share a sol¬ dier’s life—a soldier’s fortunes.’ The rich color flushed into the girl’s cheeks, ar she met the clear, frank gaze of the soul—lit eyes. Ah, she had meant only to play, but she, too, hud been burned by the fire's fierce flame! •You offer me this from pi y, Cap¬ tain Osgood,’ she said, iu low, trem¬ bling tones ‘I appreciate your noble generosity, but I must not accept it.’ ‘From pity?’ he questioned. ‘Do men pity thus? Look me in my eyes —do y&u read pity there? Listen to my voice—is it pity moves it? Let my past speak for my future. Has pity actuated it? Oh, my love, tell mo that yon love me, and you shall never more know what it is to stand alone in the world. ’ ‘Your sister has not discharged mo, Captain Osgood. I have discharged myself,’she said with a sudden reso lotion. And then, standing before him, she told him all the story. His face, as he listened, grew deathly white. When the last word left her lips, he turned and strode toward the bouse, leaving her standing alone. His sister met bim in the doorway. ‘ Who is slieV he qnestioed in harsh tones—‘this girl whom you have called Miss Houghton?’ She knew then that he would have the truth. ‘It is Florence Maxwell,’ sho an¬ swered . •Fred, forgwe me.’ He laughed, a jarring laugh. ‘Miss Maxwell, the heiress, eh?— the girl whom all men seeked for her beau¬ ty and her gold. Tell her, for me, it was Miss Houghton that I asked to be¬ come my wife, and not Miss Maxwell, who has made my honest love her sport. ’ And he strode out of the house again and up the road, all unconscious of the little white figure following him. He had thrown himself down, under the shadow of a great oak, when she overtook him. ‘Pardon me!’ she said. Aud, 1 .1 the sound, of her voice, raisid his haggard face, with a groan. The sight, the sound, overcame her scruples. She fell ou her knees bo him. ‘You loved me for myself,’ she said. ‘Oh, Fred, I am so alone in world! Yon said, dear, it was for sake not for pity. Now, for sake, give me the love, without which, I have learned, all my life would be uoor and barren, but with which I shall he alone nevermore!’ Then for pity's sake —only for pity’s sake—hut with a great joy in hiseyes, he opened wide his arms aud took her iu. Evils of Young Men Of all tho evils prevalent among young men we know of none moie blighting in its moral effects than to speak lightly of the virtues of woman. Nor is there anything in which young men are so thoroughly mis’akou as to the low estimate they form ns to tho integrity of women. Not of their own mothers and sisters, but of others, who. they forget, nresoino body else'a moth¬ ers and sisters. As ii rule, no pen on who surrenders to liis baser habit is to bo trusted with any enterprise requiring integrity of diameter. 1 Plain words should be spoken on this subject, for the!) evil is n general one and deep rooted. If young men are some times thrown into Urn society of thoughtless and depraved women, they have no more right r.g measure all other women liy what tiey neo of these than they have to estimate the character of honest and respectable citizen by tho development of crime in our police courts. Let young men remember that their chief happiness in life depends upon utter faith in women. No worldly wisdom, no mis¬ anthropic philosophy, no generaliza tion can weaken truth. It stands like the record of itself—for it is noth iug less than this aud should- put an everlasting seal upon the I ps that are wont to speak slightly of women. American Detective. How She Recognized Him. Mrs. Julius Brown’s husband was one of the pissengers on tho Stato of California during its last trip, on which it was detained four days over time. Mrs. B. here her anxiety with commendable fortitude until tho third day. Sho was taking lunch with some friends at a restaurant, where tli i waiter helped her to some shrimp salid in a glass that contained a small portion of whiskey. Sho had only eateu a few mouthfuls when stie hurst iuto tears. ‘‘What is the matter, Mrs. Brown? ’ said the company, much surprised. “Why," sobbed tho poor woman, “rn m-my worst fears are realized. I know now that poor Julius lias been drowned. Just taste (hose shrimp.'' And as there was no denying that they tasted exactly likeold Brown, the widow was conducted home. She bad just decided that she would look well in black when the steamer ar¬ rived. Avoid Slander. None of us aie perfect, and we have no right therefore to exiiect per fection in others. So if you can not speak well of your neighhors do not speak of them at ail. A cross uoigh- bor may lie made a kind one by kind treatment. The way to bo happy is to make others happy. To do good is a luxury. If you are not wiser and better at the end of the day, that day is lost. Practical kindness, even if be but to speak one word. Do not seem to lie what you are x »ot Loarn to control you temper and your words. Say nothing behind on’es back that you would not say to his face. Tiiis babbit of reticence, besides being a kindly one, is safe. Many a bitter harvest has been reaped from thoughtless words of censure. ‘Where would we be without worn ?’ asks an Ottumwa man. It is hard to determine just which way the ma¬ would drift but some men we know of would bo out of debt and out of trouble, aud a goo i many more out the seat of theirJiiecchea. Vol. II. No. 38 FACTS AND FANCIES. To get aljug well—dig it deep. An object of interest—An unpaid note. Said be, ‘Let us bo one.’ And she was won. Money is far better to fall back upon than family pride. The bind' st road to travel for a Russian Czar is the shell road. ‘Will gin sling do a man any good ?’ asks a correspondent. Yes, if lie slings the gin far enough. A woman’s work is never done, bo- cause when she lias nothing else to do she has her hair to fix. No woman ever looks at a fine largo newspaper without thinking what a beautiful polonaise pattern it would make, A wit onoo asked a peasant what part he performed in tho great drama of life. ‘I mind my own business,’ was the reply. ‘Why should we celebrate Washing¬ ton's birthday more than mine ?’ asked a touche, ‘Because he never told a lie,’ sho ited a little hoy. There is a hoy in town who will buy no more Now Testaments. IIo says with an air of disappointment, that ther’a not an Injun story in it.’- A big blubbering boy at tho circus, on being asked what is the matter, said, angrily: ‘I can’t find my mother I told the darn thing alie’d loie me 1 A Mississippi man puls it thus' ‘At • be earnest solicitation of tlioso to whom I owe money I have consented to become a candidate for county treas¬ urer.’ ‘If I should moot the dastardly rebel that shot me,’ said a Boston war vete ran, on drawing $1,000 in pension ur- r ais, ‘he'd have to swallow half n bot- i '*lu of wine.’ When you accidently discover that a mm you admired doesn’t admire you, it is astonishing how rapidly that man goer down in yonr estimation. Herein is food for thought. ‘Why, sir,' said a client to his law yer, ‘you are writing my bill on very rough paper. ’ ‘Nevermind,’ was tho lawycrs’s reply, ‘it will have to be filed bofore it comes into court.’ Huid a parent to bis -little son, who had committed some act of imliscre- tion: -Do you know that I’m going to whip you?’ ‘Yes,’ Said the hoy, ‘J suppose you me, because you are big¬ ger limn I a m !’ ItiniNo in a Railroad Car. Husband—‘Yon are quite comfortable dear?’ Wife—‘Y»s, love. 4 The cush¬ ions arc easy m.d soft, ducky V ‘Yes, darling.’ ‘You don’t feel uny jolts, pet ?’ ‘No, sweetest.’ ‘And there is no draught on mj lamb, is there, an¬ gel ?' ‘No, my ownest own.’ ‘Then change seats with me.’ A man from ono of the rural districts went to Washington to seo the sights. A member of tbo house, whoso consti¬ tuent ho was, said, ‘Come up to-mor¬ row, and I will give you a seat on (lie floor of the house.’ *No, you don’t.’ answered Jonathan; ‘I always manage to have a cheer to sit on at homo, and I don’t come to Washington to sit on the floor,’ As a train was approaching Cleve¬ land it parted iu the middle, and (lie bell-rope snapped off like a tlmad, tho end of it striking at. old lady on her bonnet. ‘What’s (lie matter ?’ sho exclaimed. ‘Oil, tbo train's broke in two,’ replied a gentleman who fnt iu the next seat. ‘I should say so,’ the old lady said, looking at the broken bell cord. ‘Dal they s’pose a trifling little string like that would bold the train together ?' He entered the city editor’s room very mad. ‘You printed the statement that I was drunk yesterday, cut op rough, and made a beast of myself atul got rti.i ill.’ ‘Yes,’ replied tbo editor, ‘are you displeased with the article ?’ ‘I am, sir, fearfully displeased with it.’ ‘Wi ll, we have to give the nows.’ ‘Yes, I don’t mind yonr doing that. But, by tho great stub tailed dog, sir, I want you to understand my name is Smyth with a y, and if you spell it with an i again I’ll wreck your old office ! I want a correction published.’ lie got it.