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Have moved across the street to the Medical Building, next
*D Dll ’IDI/rn P P(1 door to Crouch 8l Co’s, Drug store, near Douglas & Co's, Stables- PEMTC [~l IQ MICiJFQ Q
• Di lIIC AtIVLH kx ullj Go there for Bargains in Dry-goods, Notions and Shoes. Ties Etc, ULII I U I (J 11 11 lUIILn Ui
2 Spools cotton for five cents, 5 Papers pins for five cents,
A PICTURE.
The camera’ll lens wa» open,
A vision quick!) passed
In through the lilted shutter.
Which cloned and held it fast.
Although ’twin- but an instant.
By aouie mysterious art
The camera drank its beauty,
And treasured it at heart.
And wrote the vision dowa
With all its charming grace.
And gave to me a eopy—
It wm my sweetheart's face.
So here it is before me.
Perfuming all my room.
Among sweet apple biossems
Which never cease to bloom.
A picture and a I ranting—
Which sweetest, who can tell?
The frame of dainty blo-soms
Which from the magic spell
Os her deft touch drew life.
And seeing her blushed pink.
Or of her own pretty likeness
Os whom I love to think?
Just so one day I saw her.
And by Sir Cupid's art
1, too, drank in her beauty
And wrote it in my heart.
And as she sits before me.
With flowers for a frame.
So sweet that nature’s flowers
Must wonder whence they came.
So in my heart she sitteth
And evermore shall reign.
While round her thoughts the sweetest
Are woven for a frame.
—Chicago Record.
NORMAN’S WOE.
One windy afternoon in August,
two years ago, an observant passen
ger on the steamer from Boston to,
Gloucester, who was scanning Briar
island w ith a fieldglass, became in
terested in two young men ashore.
One carried the other on his back.
No other figures could be seen on
Briar island. A small tent was pitched
on the island’s summit.
The head of the carried youth
hung on his own right shoulder.
From his legs’ limpness he seemed
dead or paralyzed. His arms were
grasped in front of the burden bear
er’s cheat. The backs of both were
toward the steamer.
That the carried youth had fallen
from some pinnacle of the little is
land’s rough eastern shore was the
first surmise of my informant, the
observant passenger. He did not
readily suspect that the conqueror in
a fight was carrying his victim’s
body up hill in the broad light of day.
Clearly the burden bearer was
strong, for he ascended the declivity
with steady strides, bore his load
into the tent and was lost to sight.
It then struck my informant as
strange that the young man did not
hasten out to signal the steamer for
aid.
My informant is a typical Boston
man, deliberate, reticent, averse to
committing himself, disliking “fuss,'’
unwilling to, appear conspicuous.
He thought of asking the captain to
send a boat ashore, but he seldom
speaks to any one without an intro
duction. Yet he began to fear that
he might become excited enough *lO
do so when he saw the strong youth
come out of the tent, gaze straight
at the steamer and still w-ave no
handkerchief nor make any such ap
peal.
My friend was sure he would, in
such a case, commit himself so far as
to hail the nearest craft. But what
it that craft were a mile distant and
rapidly moving away?
My informant began to wonder if
a crime had been committed on that
rock, and the more he watched it
fade away the more he feared this
was the one reasonable explanation.
The youth, momentarily growing
dimmer to my friend’s view, went
back to the tent, peered in, stood
half a minute, as if held by what he
saw, turned, straightened up and
looked round over Massachusetts bay.
White caps lifted in all directions
except under the island’s lee. The
wind was rising. The steamer rolled
considerably running across seas.
Nearly all small sail in sight were
making for the nearest ports. Large
craft stood far out, with little can
vas. Some dories of fisherman were
tossing wildly at anchor, but more
were seeking shelter.
The observant passenger saw the
youth stoop suddenly, pick some
thing up and run, apparently with
an oar in hand, down the steep of
the island's lee. There he disap
peared.
Two minutes later some tiny yel
low craft shot forth from that lee
shore toward the open bay. The lit
tle vessel was scarcely visible from
the receding steamer. It pointed al
most straight against the wind. My
informant recognized it as a canoe,
for he could see the gleitm of the
double paddle. Who, except one
afraid of his fellow men ashore,
would, thought iny informant, face
such weather in a canoe, as if to get
out to sea beyond Cape Ann, where
he might chance to be picked up by
some outgoing vessel, beyond reach
by telegram or detectives;
The Boston passenger then con
fided his suspicions to the Boston
captain, who looked impassive and
said nothing. Feeling that he had
“slopped over” in vain, the Boston
passenger went below to a secluded
nook, avoiding the eye of man. But
when he reached Gloucester he re
ported all, conscientiously, to the
chips of police, who said "he guessed
he'ihsee 'bout it if it wasn't all light. - ’
Tnt wind rose to a gale that after
noon' Next morning, when my in
formant returned by the same steam
er, the sea was like a mill pond, ex
cept for the porpoises trying to stand
on their heads. On Briar island the
tent still stood. My informant was
convinced th|va murdered body lay
THE HUSTLER GF ROME, SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 9 1894
within it and now disclosed himself
to the captain as a stockholder in the
line. So a boat was sent ashore with I
the captain and his passenger.
In the tent they found some cook
ing utensils, a gun case lettered “G.
B.a jointed fishing rod, some tae- i
kle, an air mattress and two b.un |
kets soaked with blood.
My informant was beginning to
take full notes when the captain in
sisted on hurrying away. It was
none of his business anyhow, he I
said. He couldn’t lose time to mix :
himself up with any case in court. |
Bo the observant passenger was com
pelled to hasten aboard, consoling ,
himself that his sagacity had been
vindicated.
The adventure gave him a keen,
unusual sense of being alive. What
he did on reaching Boston need not
be recorded, because the meaning of
what he had seen may be liest learned
from the narrative of Skipper Mm
cheever of Beverly.
Almost any’ day’ in summer you j
may see the white catboat Minnie '
Mincheever, at anchor before Bever
ly, unless her skipper, Absalom Min
cheever, has gone forth on some
cruise. In summer he hires, boat
and skipper, to chance cornel’s. Dur
ing full and spring he uses the Min
nie—named for his young sister—as
a fishing lx>at. The fishing in stormy
months keeps Absalom in practice
for sudden perils of that terrible
coAst and maintains in him that
nerve which is as remarkable as his
volubility.
Os his adventures he loves to talk,
though many’ are scarcely important
enough to warrant the detail in
which he imparts them. But, small
or great, he tumbles them out almost
incessantly as some landmark brings
them to his memory. Thus on my
first trip with liim last summer he
poured forth this tale of Norman s
Woe:
“Now therC’s Norman’s Woe,” he
began, waving his free hand toward
a brown mound of rock that seeined
part of the north shore near the en
trance to Gloucester bay. “Once 1
had a tight pinch right there. The
Vvind was a living gale, and”
“Norman's Woe?” I interrupted.
“Yes, certainly. As I was saying,
there was more than half a gale”
“Do you mean to say there's a real
Norman’s Woe —the very Norman’s
Woe where Longfellow’s schooner
Hesperus was wrecked ?”
“Looks real enough, don’t it? But
none of the Longfellows ’long this
coast lost no schooner, so fur’s I
know. Abe’s no sailor, nor yet Hiram,
and Pete, him that lives back of
Mingo’s beach —why, Pete”-
‘ ‘And that is really’ Norman's Woe I”
I cried. “Well, of the millions who
have learned the ballad at school,
how few imagine it refers to a real
reef! It's jieaceful enough today. 1
say, skipper, won’t you run in and
give me a good look at it?”
“Ortainjy, certainly,” said A bra
lom, and put the Minnie about al
most as easy as a bird turns.
Close past the buoy bearing the
fog bell we ran in. Now it was si
lent. And was this the bell that
knelled in the ears of the Hesperus
skipper as he looked on his little
daughter bound to the mast and
“steered for the open sea;”
Absalom's eyes fell on the fog bell.
“Youwere loud enough that day!”
he shouted, shaking his fist at it.
“Lord, how that bell did clank!
You hain’t got no idea of what that
coast is in a gale from sea. The Woe
was all a smother of breakers clear
up, for the tide was high. The roll
ers looked like they’d roar over into
the cove behind.
“Well, sir, my sister and me—it's
her I named this boat so been
out north yonder fishing, for she was
on her holidays and me engaged with
no party for the day, and she’d been
teaching school spring and winter.
As the wind kept rising, we ran for
Gloucester bay. It was in August,
just about this time, too; but the
blow was fit for October —only warm
er. And as we staggered round the
point yonder what should we see but
a canoe!
“A dory could scarce live in such
a sea, but there was that young chap
in about here. He was riding free,
paddling straight into the face of the
I waves, flung up till you could seo
I half his keel —then he'd slide out of
I sight down the trough so you'd think
I he'd never come up again.
“ ‘An open canoe?’ says you. Great
! skeesicks, do you suppose any’ open
■ canoe could ’a’ lived therq? No: she
I was divided into bulkheadsand deck
' ed tight —so 1 learned after all was
I done. No sinking her. He was too
smart to let her be rolled over. The
I danger was that she’d be blown
j ashore and smashed to kindling and
j the life pounded out of him on Nor
j man's Woe. It turned out he'd
come in a rising sea clear away’ from
Briar island, and now his strength
was petering out just in front of the
Woe.
“All his work was to keep off the
rock till he’d get a chance to run for
yon gravelly’ beach in nearer Glouces
j ter. But ’twas no go. The reef was
; bound to have him. The gale was
more against him every minute, and
so the tide was too.
“When I catched sight of that ca
( noe, I wasn’t noways pleased. There
was Round Rock shoal and Dog bar
for the Minnie Mincheever to get
past to anchor safely. I was wet and
hungry and mad, and my sister was
crosser’n me, for she’d wanted me to
start in an hour earlier. Scared;
Geewhitaker. no! She c*n sail a '
boat with any man on this coast.
“What uiud<- her n me mad was to
see the Woe would get that canoe in
10 minutes if we ddu t. There '
wasn’t another r:;g of sail out hut >
our'n. I couldn’t think wnat In-d -
possessed the man to Lx- canoeing .u ,
such weather. He'd a'drtl.eu .«--<<. e t
in two minutes if he gave the niud I
his broadside and tried to run pt-st I
the Woe. All he couid do vac
die straight at the wind, and yet he
wasn't half holding his own.
“No arms could a made head
against that gale and tide and sea to
gether —he was just working for a ,
few minutes' more life at best.
“Well, sir, was 1 going to risk my
sister and my boat trying to pick up
a crazy’ young chap? It would bo a
desperate risk. There might lx* room
for us where he was, and then there
mightn't. 1 was treble reefed —not I
sail enough to get round half lively. '
I couldn't seem to feel we'd any clear
call in there, but it hurt my feelings
terrible to lyt him be lost right under
my eyes.
“I was holding right on for Glouces
ter when my sister catc.it. d sight of
the canoe—she'd been watching out
the other side. Nothing would do
her but we should try’ the rescue.
Her eyes were blazing—all is, we
were about in two shakes and run
ning about sou'west to get sea room
before we'd come about and make
straight for that canoe.
“Our plan was to run to the stran
ger, we flying right along the length
of Norman's Vv Ob. Before we was
tod near we’d know if there was a
chance of going cuose enough to take
him off and yet saving ourselves.
But when we went out yonder 1 saw
plain that we'd be within a hundred
yards of the rock before we could
reach him.
“If we could snatch him off in,
passing, we might get clear, but to
come into the wind then or slacken
at all looked like sure death —we d Im
pounding on the Woe before we
could get a new move on. and it
looked two chances to one we’d be
blown on the east end of the reef if
we even went near him.
“ ‘We can't do it*’ says I.
“ ‘We got says Minnie, stamp
ing her foot. Ai.ti -s lio be scairt
out where a gal didn't blench?
“ ‘Say’ your prayers, sis,'says I. and
in we went, flying half across the
trough.
“I could trust the boat agin cap
sizin, but her bows would fly’ wide
when she rose if a hand quick as
mine wasn’t at the wuecl. One of
us must stand by to throw the man
a rope. My sister could steer as well
I as me, so I gave her the wheel ami
j got a rope ready, i gt.uu* tfie clank
j of that bell was sounoiug like doom
to that young fellow, but he kept
j paddling. cteia y and cmd. Ins uw
was set ;.s a none, and every wave
flung crests it.
“When we were within 50 yards of
him. I s.,w there v,. s m.gfity l.tue
use iln ov. n.g t. i ,-e. .„o i
5 he’d imss it. L ho itroppvd iiis puu
die to grab it, the wind would throw
his bow right round and maybe roll
him over. If he did catch on, we’d
jerk him overboard and lose time
trying to fetch him in, and be poundin
on the reef ourselves.
“There was just one chance to get
him aboard, but to take it was des
! perate. It was to go half round on
the wind, run close alongside him,
give him a chance to jump for our
rail, keep our speed right along,
wheel sharp and get back on our
course along shore. But there was
the Woe so close that I could hear
clearly a sort of rumbling like bowl
ders grinding in the waves—and was
we to point for that death?
“No, sir, I didn’t dare, and my’ sis
ter flinched too. She kept the course,
and we was going to fly’ past his bow.
It was shooting out so high it looked
most as if it would be aboard us if
we were in the trough when it next
came dowm. Well, sir, we wasn’t
three lengths of this boat from that
chap when he opened out with a
roar like a foghorn:
“ ‘You can’t —do—itl Thank
you —sor —try in g. Tell—a—doctor—
to —go—instantly—to—Briar—island.
There’s —a man there with
broken —legs. I—was—going—for—
a—doctor.’
“Do you see that?” cried Absalom,
swinging his free arm, with a curved
elbow, out from his side and around
to his front horizontally. “Before
the words were out of his lips, that's
1 what this boat did. 1 thought my
sister’d gone clean crazy. She went
round on the wind. It was like mak
ing a scoop at the canoe. The Min
nie jerked straight up on an even
keel for two seconds. I thought she
s was going to jibe, but in them two
seconds our quarter had knocked up
against the canoe, and the young
’ chap reached for our rail.
i “I didn’t even look to see what be
came of him. My* eyes were on Nor
man’s Woe. We seemed right on it,
sure. Lord! the trampling of them
breakers! I jumped to my sister’s
side. We jammed the wheel down
together. Thank God, it was a cat
boat under us! Back we were on
our course again almost liefore the
young chap could pick himself up
from before our feet.
“Don't tell me there ain't no mira
cles these days! Saving him was one;
getting clear of the Woe ourselves
was the other. Some might say the
wind slanted a bit favorable just
then, being sort of eddied around
the Woe. But that’s the way with
miracles. He works so’s you can be
lieve nature just did it, or if your
heart’s simpler you can believe it’s
him.
“Anyhow that sudden slant of the
wind let us bear up as much as four ;
or five points east and fetched us )
lairsiy clear of the Woe before we 1
InsJ to tail off again. But then we |
had plenty <1 room to worx up into
the b*y.
“The young chap said mighty lit
tle but ‘Thank you for my life.’ His |
name was George Bowles, a Boston I
boy. But women is curious crea- I
turee. my e-ler burst oat c.yxug.
and left the wheel to me. and flung
down into ibe cabin and lay there >
sobbing like her heart would break. 1
“ ‘To tniuk she wus so near tor- i
Baking him!’ says she.
“Well, sir, seen enough of Nor- I
man s Woe? We'll go about, then, to '<
clear Eastern point.
“What Ixcame of the chap with ;
his legs broken? Why, we ran up j
with a tug two hours laterand fetch- j
ed him to hospital. Terrible bad
break one leg was bone came
through the skin, and the doctor said
he’d have tkd to. death if it wasn’t
for the way young Bowles had tied
up the leg before he left, so’s to stop
the circulation.
“Now, you see,Dog bar yonder?
Well, once I was ashore there.” And
then Skipper Mincheever launched
into a new tale waich 1 may record
here some future day.—Edward W.
Thomson in Youth’s Companion.
Oldeiit li.hablti-,! Diri-lling In Britain.
The oldest inhabited dwelling in
the British islee is Dun Vegan castle,
in the , highlands of Scotland, “the
romantic seat of Macreod of Mac
leod,” as Scott calls it in a note to the
“Lord of the Isles.” “It looks,” says
Boswell in his account of Johnson’s
visit thither, “as if it had been let
down from heaven by the four cor
ners, to be the residence of a chief.” j
It has been added to, century after |
century, and is now a huge and mass
ive structure, built on a precipitous
pile of rock, rising sheer out of the
ocean, with walls nine feet thick,
battlemented towers, dungeons dark
and drear, ari ow loopholes and an j
impregnable kw;
it has. i:j tact, been fortified
against the incursions of pirates and
other foes, who from the olden days
—a thousand years ago—when the i
primeval tower first rose out of the ;
waters of the Atlantic, might be ex- ■
pected to arrive by sea on evil pur- ;
pose bent. Until about a hundred I
years ago absolutely the only mode i
of ingress or egress was by means of :
a small pixstern door in the rock'
overhanging the sea. A narrow'
stretch ci lai.o lies all round the
west side, and beyond that the moun
tains rise in daik, yet everchanging
beauty. - -Gowi Wo*
Sidut y Anecdote*.
Sydney Smith has a fund of anec
dotes about Sc< ■icumen. Iles id that
he was sit. .ng < :;e evening as a spec
tator at a fashionable ball in Edin
burgh. A young pouple were danc
ing near him, and as the gentleman
“crossed to partners” he heard him
say, “Lady Margaret, what is your
opinion of love?’’ The lady waited
until she crossed over and then said,
“That depends, Lord Donald, on
whither ye refer to love in the ab
stract or in the concrete.”
A landlord who had been much
troubled by poachers, set his game
keeper on watch at a certain point of
the surrounding Wall. About mid
night the watchman saw a head peer
ing above the wall, and presently the
poacher was seated a straddle of it,
evidently intending to jump down on
the inside. Stepping out from his
concealment, he cried, “Where y«
goin, Sandy?” Sandy, taking in the
situation, replied, “Mon, I'm just
goin bock agin,” and slid down on
the outside.
Sydney Smith always insisted that
“the only way you can get a joke
into a Scotchman’s head is by a sur-
I gieal operation.”
A Case of ChriKtian Science.
This gem was received by the pub
lishers of The Northwestern Lancet:
“Your copy of the Journal
come, and the letter to asking
me to send 50 cei. is and git it fur a
yeer. I don't need no journal. When
I git a tuff ease, I go Off inter some se-
I ent plase and tell the lord all about
it and wute for Inn: to put intei- my
minde what ti r do. That's bettern
journals and sykkpedes and such.
If we had more lord trustin docters
and lees colleges weed fare better.
The lord knows moren all the docters,
i and if we go to him fur noledge it ill
-be bettern journals. Fraternally in
the lord. A Christian Docter. P. S. —
I’ve practist medisen morn 50 yeers.
Yore ken publish this letter if you
want ter.’’
A New Sleep Theory.
A foreign scientist, whom the ac
count says is a man of “internation
al reputation,” offers a brand new
theory of the cause of sleep. He be
lieves the fatigue of the nervous sys
tem which leads to this condition of
the body to be due to an increase of
the water holding power of the nerve
cells. This being the case, the great
-1 er the ability of the cells to hold wa
, ter the less the nervous irritability of
i the individual. 1 He further says that
the sleeping individual is easily
aw’akened as soon as the major por
tion of the water has been eliminat
ed by the “sleep process.”—St. Louis
Republic.
it* iivujj or
beth til# Senh iu,<; me i a cngtfe
ot puta, pm y, Mivti..- um ..frfl.
dr*;.. i,r. i'lerttb Gtud®-
b>«c<.vary. lt’ M
.uui*; ki.<<w nforn WHsux
Ikh.v u wt- kc.ee syb.eca.
It thwoughlj pui.lies th.
I.kvd, «ur . he. it, md make.
:m ry j.atural ’beam,
c. c. bJ. f , t< rai. injj. .nd
nourish>n- the system. Iti ra
ooverk- .-<.m ‘La Grippa"
i..;.0;.i0, lexers, or other
► uebilitatinj diseases, nothing
can equal it a. an appetising
i fcM
1 CT
1
I restorative tonic to brina back health and
' viiror. Cures nervous and general debility
Purify and rid your blood of the taint*
| and jxasons that mnke it easy for disease
fr f- »;♦ .•» )? b.'lk’.
, r[ F to tbe only Lhx d-e'eaneey
c. ’ -ild d ‘.t-aisth-restoiur
; < i ... ' > it» cffi i ts it cen be piaranteed,
, It it ao*sut beiieiit or cure, in every
1 you have your money hack.
| Throe’s no unSirtaiuty alx>ut Dr.
I Cs.iairb lluncdr. Its proprietors will bay
I you iffsKt cash if they can’t cure ci
■ Uuih, no matter how bad your case."
The Burney
Tailoring Co,
220 Broadway.
What about a
a very fine pair
of pants, do you
need a pair?
Burney Tailor
ing Co,, has just
received the
largest and best
selected stock
of pant goods
ever shown in
Rome. We have
bought h e avily
of fi n e pant
goods and will
make you a pair
of dants for $1 0
that will cost
Xou 12. to sl4.
elsewhere.
We have a MAN
pants maker who learn
ed his trade in New
York and is as fine a
pants maker as ever
came South, so if you
want a fine pair of
pants, made right, call
on us arid we furnish
them on short notice.
The Burney
Tailoring Co.
220 Broadway
BUYING
APIANO
You have been thinking d
buying a Piano for a long
time. ,
If you keep putting it on
you will never get it Now is
the time to buy, as tall is neai
at hand, crops were never
better. Nights are getting
longer, a 1 d you have
time to music. Call a
store 227,’ B oad street and let
inc show you some fine 111
strnmonts.
I can sell you a new P l * l . l ? 0
for $200,00. A good one W
the Kingsbery Piano 11
$300,00,0r a f.rstclass onewiH
cost a little more. Terms ea\V
If you can't call at the stoie
wiite for catologue and P I|,L
All 1 want is a chance top
my claims. I S'll some ol *
best make ot Pianos and
gans, and wiil save you n- 01 .
ey on anything in the nm
line.
E. E. FORBES-
227. Broad St. Rome Ga.
and Anniston Ala,
