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THE t INCOLNTON NEWS J- D. COLLEY & CO., VOL. I. MACHINERY DEPOT. W. J. POLLARD, luvicmn at iuvAcms' urn. MANDFACTUBEK. of f W. J. Pollard's Champion Cotton Gin Feeders & Condensers^ Sill’s Mi Power Cotton &!Hay Press. General agent for Grain Threshers and Separators and Agricultural Imple¬ ments, Fairbanks & Co.’s Standard Scales, etc. Talt»ot A Sons’ Agricultural, Portable and Stationary and Steam Engines anti Boilers, Saw Mills, Grist Mills, etc. C. & G. Cooper & Co.’s Traction Engines, Portable and Agricul¬ tural Engines, Watertown Aaiicultartvl, Waters’ Portable and Stationary Steam___ En gines, Saw Mills, etc. Goodall & Wood W-oz-king Machinery. W. I,. Bradley’s Standard Fertilizers. The Dean Steam J?ump. Kreible's Vibrating Cylinder Clod Steam Crusher Engines. and Leveler. Otto’s Silent (las Engines- Acme Pulverizing Har¬ row, MACHINERY OF ALL KINDS. Belting, everything Packing, Brass Fittings, Iron Fittings, Iron I>i pe , Rubber Hose and that can be used on or about machinery. Cotton Mill Supplies a specialty. make the machine Tools of business all kinds, complete Hancock Inspirators, etc. Finally, I desire to a success, and. vs-ill guarantee to furnish - everything wanted in that line on as reasonable terms and at as short notice as any.house in tike country. My stock is the largest and most varied of any house South. My connection with some of the largest manufactories in the ' United States gives me superior advantages for furnishing the best and most reliable work found anywhere. Be certain to call on •W. 0*. FQ LT . A T P.HPl y 731, 734 & 736 Reynolds Street., AUGUSTA, GEORGIA wiraira imiffi IN FURNITURE. If we don’t Beat New York Prices we will Give You a NICE SET. i The Largest and Finest Stock ever offered in Augusta. Five carloads just received. All the Latest Styles and Prices Cheaper than Ever. WE DEFY COMPETITION' Our New Catalogue will be Ready in T»i Days. Write for one. J. L. BOWLES & CO., 117 AND 839 BROAD STREET, AUCUSTA, CA. JAMES HINES, SUCCESSOR TO P. H. NOROTN, Washington - - Gra., —DEALB.f IN— Groceries^ and Plantation Saplies, Bagging and Ties, Meat and Lard, Flour of the Best Grade, ron, Plows, &c., Salt, Leather, &e„ Provisions of all Sorts. The Reputation of the House shall be Maintained. “ The Best Goods at the Lowest Living RateB.” At Mrs. N. Brum Clark’s Ladies will find New and Stylish Nkok WJ5AB. Look at the Febne Laces. They must be seqn to be appreciated. The Latest Styles in Hals and Bonnels re¬ ceived weekly during the season. Our Mourning Bonnets and Crepe Yeils are keep unsurpassed best in quality aud price. We New Ribbons—every English Crepes, new Lisse Ruching, ity. width, color and qual Black Silk Gloves, Mourning wear; Chil¬ dren’s Hosiery in excellent quality—some New Styles; Corsets, Hoop Skirts. Toiir milres. Bridal Veiling and Gloves; all kinds of klndB. Veiling, Brussel’s Nets; Note of all Great variety of Laces— Black, White and Cream. Embroidery Silk, best Knitting Silk, Sewing Silk, Buttons in latest styles, IN rings, 0 W Jewelry, ijusterless Jet Bracelets, Eor Pins, <kc., Coin Silver Jewelry and other styles entirely new; Material for Fancy Work, Lace Pillow Shams, Splashers, Ac. New Hair Goods—pretty and becoming feisasas* Hand-Knitted Goods Infants, for Infants’ Caps in Lace, Velvet and Satin. Our Stock of Sanoy Goods is too varied to itemize. We are prepared to furnish anything in the Milukerv Lise, and to fill orders promptly.- tended to as-soon Orders from received. the country We at¬ as never Disappoint. Our friends in adjacent coun¬ ties will find it to their interest to send tons. We will make any purchases for them in eity free of commission. Wa Bboao guarantee Prices and Quality. 09 SmMrr is the place to obtain BtjrMsh Give ns Articles call. for a Lady’s Toilet. a THE AUGUSTA, ELBEBTON AND C HIC4GO RAILROAD. s# * u EL H " VERS ’ SUCCESSOR T MYERS & MARCUS, 838 & 840 Broad Street, AUGUSTA, GA. WHOLESALE JOBBER OF DRY!GOODS, NO. TIONS, SHOES, HATS AND CLOTHING. J, M. ANDERSON, COTTON FACTOR —AND Commission Merchant, -AT THE— O'.fl Stand of H A. Fleming, 983 Reynolds Street, Augusta, 6a' Feisonal attention veil given known to all in business- Lincoln I. Love Fuller, so and who for many years lias boon with Young* Hack, is in charge, and will bo glad to fee his many friemls. ,_ __ Murphey, Harmon,& Co ■I NCOLOTOBf, GA., TOMBSTONES, MONUMENTS PUT TO TO LAST. Work Guaranteed, Refer to their work throughout Lincoln county. Prices "Very Low. P. HANSBERGER, —MANUFACTURE!! OF— CIGARS _ -AND DEALER IN Tobacco, Pipes and Smokers’ Articles. Cigarettes to the trade Fireworks a specialty. Manu. factory on Ellis street. by whole. sale. TO Broad street, AUGUSTA, GA. Mf ”■ |U BUI Iwl ETDf*l tala I ETD Ed Iw ■ _ COTTON" FACTOR AND tatral Commissi MercM, No. 3 W arren Block, Aug-usta, Ga. Will give personal and undivided atten¬ tion to the WeijfHixig and Selling of Cotton Liberal Cash Advances made on Consign meats, LINCOLNTON, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 13, 1883. TTa» It Chance P He wind swept over a silver string; The cord responded, bat why did it sing Was it chance t The golden snn, rising, illumined the sky The lotos awakened, but why did it sigh ? Was it chance T The nightingale hovered all night o’er the rose; Why blossomed the rosebud at dawn? Who knows? Was it chance ? The moon flew away with the dark gazelle; Which conned the other ? Who can tell ? Was it chance? The lover found many strange ways to his fair, But, arrived at the spot, she was ever there. Was it chance? —From the Persian. CHARMING BETTIE. “It was all very long ago,” the old maid said. “Can you believe I ever was pretty?” Priscilla opened her mouth to speak; but Miss Bettie did not wait to hear her. “Yes, I was pretty oDce, and I was called ‘Charming Bettie.’ My hair was always curly, and my eyes used to be very bright. My cheeks were red — so red, they accused me of painting many a time, and my teeth white and even, and my figure round and trim.” She had her snug, brown house,with its pretty, old-fashioned garden, her birds and her flowers, and her white kitten; but she must at times, Priscilla fancied, be very lonely, in spite of it all. Priscilla could picture her in the long winter evenings, sitting in the little, dim, lamp-lighted parlor, knitting —knitting. “Miss Bettie,” she said, gently, after a little, “who called you that—‘Charm¬ ing Bettie?” “Who ?” Oh, a good many. He called me so first, and then they all got to calling me that. I have never told any one yet. But sometimes I think it would do me good to speak about it. I get tired of only thinking—I think so much,” with a little sigh, and the knitting lying idle now in her lap. “His name was David Allyn,” Miss Bettie said, rather tremulously. “David Allyn—Lawyer Allyn!” Pris¬ cilla cried, her dark eyes large with in¬ tense The spinster nodded. “I have a picture of him, taken when he was young,” she said, and she got up and went to a little shelf and took it down. “He was a handsome boy,” she went on, handing the faded daguer¬ reotype to the girl, “and he was as good as he was handsome.” The beardless, boyish face, with its , irregular, unformed features, and rather sunken black eyes, did not strike Priscilla as being at all hand¬ some. “Did you meet him here in R-?” she asked. “Yes, at a dance at one of the neigh¬ bors’. He was a young lawyer, had just graduated, and hadn’t hung out his shingle. But he was uncommonly smart, even then. He is our leading lawyer now, you know,” the spinster added, with no little pride. “It seems so strange to think he was your lover,” Priscilla exclaimed. “Yes, it does seem strange now, after all these years,” Miss Bettie said, with another little sigh; “but it seemed very natural then. We met very often after the night of the dance, and we grew to know these country roads near here by heart, for many were the long walks we took together. There is one road—that one that leads by the Hill¬ man cottage—I never care to go now. It was there, on that road, just about dark one October evening that he told me he loved me. There had been a tine sunset, and the sky had been a bright flame-color. As the glow faded and the meadows grew dark, and a little mist began to shut out the liills we turned to go home. ‘Lean on my .arm, dear,’ he said, and when I did so, trembling a little, he said: ‘How would you like a young fellow’s strong arm to lean on always?’ I didn’t say anything right then, he took me so by surprise; and presently he went and told me how pretty he thought I was, and he said, with a laugh, and giving my arm a little pinch: “I am going to name you ‘Charming Bettie.’ So after that, he always called me that, and soon nearly every one in R began call ing me it, too. We were never engag¬ ed to each other, although I wear a little ring he gave me, in remembrance of our love, yet,” Miss Bettie said, and held out one thin hand, on which shone, in the firelight, a worn band of gold, “There was just this understanding between us; some day when he had got a nice start in the law and had a little home of his own to take me to, then I was to be his wife. AVe were young and we were content to wait; and one day he went away to the city to go into partnership with and old es¬ tablished lawyer, a friend of his father’s. It was a grand chance, a line opening for him, and we both knew it, and rejoiced over it like children, al- though we dreaded the separation. ‘Never mind, Charming Bettie,’ he said, when he came to kiss me good by ‘In a few years I will be nicely fixed; perhaps rich, who knows? Anyway. I’ll have a good start, and I will come back and carry you away.’ And then he was gone, and that was the end, for when David Allyn came home at the end of two years he did not come alone; he brought his wife with him. “They staid here a little while, and then went back to the city. I met her, once, in Aurch and I overheard her ask David ‘who that ugly little thing with the red face was he was staring at so hard?” If that was ‘Charming Bettie?* That day I walked for the first time after David’s marriage up the Hillman cottage road, and, although I shed many bitter tears, I resolved not to let what had happened spoil my life for me; but somehow it has—,” the spinster ended sadly, and she stared at the fire with dim eyes. “Miss Bettie, she is dead now,” the girl said softly, after a little pause, “and he is a widower.” Priscilla had been staring at the fire also, and weaving a little romance of her own. “Hush, child!” Miss Sligo cried, “How can you ? She has not been in her grave a year yet, and David Allyn will never marry again, anyway. His romance, like mine, is ended.” Miss Priscilla kissed the maiden lady’s faded cheek, and flung her young arms affectionately around her. “I shall love you better than ever, now,” she said, tenderly, “and I hope some day things will yet come right.” Then she went away, and Miss Bettie stood in her open window for some time after, looking at the sunset. Lawyer Allyn saw her as he came up the street from his office. He had moved to K- from the city, and walked more slowly as he came to the little brown house among the trees. They always spoke to one other; it always seemed foolish not to speak. So when he got by the window he said: “Your flowers are looking very fresh and nice, Miss Bettie.” The spinster gave one of her little nervous starts. She had not seen him coming. Her hand struck against one of the flower-pots and knocked it over. It rolled off the narrow sill, and lay at David Allyn’s feet. “It is broken to pieces,” he said, picking it up, with a little smile on hi thin, sallow face, “but I am going to keep it—may I not?” “Yes—if you w r ant to,” she made answer, a little breathlessly. He took the plant—a pale-pink ger¬ anium—out of the earthern pot, and shook a little of the dirt off the roots. “This shall bloom in my window,” he said,” and I am going to name it ‘Charming Bettie,’ in memory of other days.” Miss Sligo’s face flushed a deep red. “Good-night,” she said, abruptly, and was about shutting the window. She felt shocked; his wife had not been dead a year. “No, don’t go yet,” David Allyn said, his hand on the fence railing. Then he seemed to remember himself “Very well, good-night,” he added and walked slowly away, the little pink geranium in his hand. A few days later, another stormy afternoon, near dusk, Miss Sligo heard a knock at her front door. There, on the porch, was Lawyer Allyn. Miss Bettie smoothed her curls quickly and hastened to the door. She led the way to the little parlor. “Take this chair,” she said, drawing a large rocker close to the fire. The lawyer held out his handsto the blaze. “You have a snug little home, Miss Bettie,” he observed. “I suppose you would never be willing to leave it now.” “I am attached to the house,” the spinster said, gravely. “My dear father and mother both died here, and it has many associations.” She was sitting in another rocking chair near by, and had taken up her knitting. David Allyn watched the swift-fly¬ ing needles. “Don't you ever get lonely?” he ask¬ ed, after a few moment’s silence. “I do, up in my big house. It is a pretty place; but it is too big for me.” Miss Bettie only knitted faster, and was silent. His coining had disturbed her greatly. Suddenly, he moved for Svard, and took her work away. “1 don’t want you to knit any more to-night,” he said; “I want you to look at me.” “Lawyer Allyn!” “No, not Lawyer Allyn—David. Call me that, as you used to.” Miss Bettie trembled; her cheeks glowed as in youthful days. David Allyn took one of the spinster’s thin hands in his—the one on which the little worn ring was, it happened. “Bettie,” he said, gravely, “I have come to-night to ask your forgiveness and your love again. I feel I made a mistake—a great mistake, once in my life, and I want, if possible, to rectify it. Don’t tell me it is to late.” To feel that she was loved again, after all these lonely years, was too much for Miss Bettie; she burst into tears. Her white kitten purred and rubbed its soft little head against her dress. The firelight danced on the wall and made black shadows in the corners. In the uncertain light David Allyn bent and kissed the faded cheek beside him. They were speedily married. American Society. American society, as now carried on, is maintained solely for the bene¬ fit of young girls, and is generally lit¬ tle better than a marriage mart. The parents launch their offspring as well as possible, and display their wares to the greatest advantage, but the busi¬ ness of the market is carried on chiefly by the young girls themselves, instead of by their mothers, as in England and Europe. There is no special objection to this method of transacting the bus¬ iness, but it is preposterous that young girls and their affairs should over¬ shadow and shut out everything and everybody else. The result of this ab¬ sorption in one class and one pursuit is that American society is often in¬ sufferably dull and fiat. It is made up too exclusively of ignorant girls and their attendant boys. Half the education of a cultivated woman is of course that which is derived from so¬ ciety and from the world; and yet American society is almost wholly given up to the business of entertain¬ ing and marrying those who are neces¬ sarily wholly destitute of such an education. Another effect of the prev¬ alence of social principles of this de¬ scription, is the supremacy of that most rustic and unattractive of habits, the pairing system, which converts so¬ ciety into a vast aggregation of tete a-tetes. This prevails all over the world to a greater or less extent, but it should never reign supreme. The upshot of the whole thing with us is to drive out of society nearly all mar¬ ried people,—for marriage under such a system is destructive of social value; nearly all unmarried women over 25 are thought to have overstayed their market; and, finally, a considerable portion of the unmarried men of 30 and upwards. In other words, except at few large balls and receptions, all the best and most intelligent part of society is usually lacking. It has been pushed aside, and is obliged to find all its social amusements in small coteries of its own. This retirement is of course voluntary, because the pairing system ruins general society, and makes it, in fact, impossible in the best and truest sense. A clever young Englishman not loug ago expressed his surprise at the fact that whenever he asked who a lady of a certain age, as the French say, might be, he was in¬ variably told, not that she was Mrs. Blank, but that she was the mother of Mrs. Blank. The girl, like the boy, is properly the most insignificant mem¬ ber of society. When a young man goes forth into the world he starts at the bottom of the ladder, and works his way up. The same rule should apply to young ladies in society. They have their place, and it is an impor¬ tant one ; but they should not start in social life at the top, and then slowly descend. Such a system is against ev¬ ery law of nature or art, with its con¬ comitant of universal tete-a-tetes, makes really attractive general society impossible. We place the social pyra¬ mid upon its apex, instead of upon its base, and then wonder that it is a poor, tottering and unlovely object.— Atlan¬ tic Monthly. A Temperate life. George Bancroft, the historian, is 83 years old, and yet of as clear intellect, sure memory, unflagging industry, hungry for new facts historical and sci¬ entific, and fond of society and out¬ door exercise as a man of half his age. He rides frequently, and sits his horse with only a student’s stooping of the shoulders, and his white hair crowns a face full of animation and lit by quick and expressive eyes. At his desk at five or six in the morning, he has all the freshness of a youthful literateur, and is devoid of the vanity common to youth and old age, of petting his own ideas and style. In revising the early volumes of his history he strikes out his theories of twenty years ago as readily sis his superabundant diction, and re¬ places them with lately discovered'facts in ethnology and chronology and with terse and direct language. His intel¬ lectual healthfulness is due probably to constant and unhurried work, as his bodily vigor is attributable to regular¬ ity and temperance in eating, drinking and general living. He is a remarka¬ ble instance, of long-preserved elasticity of all the faculties. THB FAMILY DOCTOR. Dyspepsia. —The late Dr. Leared, in In his recently published essay on “The Causes and Treatment of Indigestion,” lays down as a fundamental principle that the amount of food which each man is capable of digesting with ease always has a limit which bears rela¬ tion to his age, constitutaion, health, and habits, and that indigestion is a consequence of exceeding this limit Different kinds of food are also differ ently adapted to different constitutions Dyspepsia may be brought on by eat¬ ing irregularly, by allowing too long an interval between meals, and by eat¬ ing too often. Frequently the meals are not gauged as to their relative amount, or distributed with a due re¬ gard for health. Thus, when we go out after taking a light breakfast and keep at our work, with a still lighter lunch only during the interval, till evening, we are apt, with the solid meal which tempts us to indulgence, to put the stomach to a harder test than it can bear. “When a light breakfast is eaten, a solid meal is re¬ quisite in the middle of the day. When the organs are left too long un¬ employed they secrete an excess of mu¬ cus which greatly interferes with di¬ gestion. One meal has a direct influ¬ ence on the next; and a poor breakfast leaves the stomach over-active for din ner. . . . The point to bear in mind is, that not to eat a sufficiency at one meal makes you too hungry for the next; and that, when you are too hun gry, you are apt to overload the stom¬ ach, and give the gastric juices more to do than they have the power to per¬ form. Persons who eat one meal too quickly on another must likewise ex¬ pect the stomach finally to give notice that it is imposed upon. Other pro¬ vocatives of dyspepsia are imperfected mastication, smoking and snuff-taking, which occasions a waste of saliva— although some people find that smok¬ ing assists digestion, if done in moder¬ ation—sitting in positions that cramp the stomach, and the pressure that is Inflicted on the stomach by the tools of some trades, as of curriers, shoema¬ kers, and weavers. The general symp¬ toms of dyspepsia are well known. Some that deserve special remark are fancies that the limbs or hands are dis torted, mental depression, extreme ner¬ vousness, hypochrondria, and other fections of the mind. The cure is to be sought in avoiding the food and habits by which dyspepsia are promoted, and and using and practicing those which are found to agree best with the sys¬ tem of the subject. Regularity in the hours of meals can not be too strongly insisted on. “The stomach should not be disappointed when it expects to be replenished. If disappointed, even a diminished amount of food will be ta¬ ken, without appetite, which causes the secretions to injure the stomach, or else impairs its muscular action.’' —Popular Science Monthly. His Papa's Xante. There was a bright little boy be tween 2 and 3 years old picked up as he was wandering on the street and car ried to the Four Courts, where he took a seat on the railing in front of the Central Station, stuck out his chubby legs and stared at everyone who came in without being the abashed. As is customary in such cases, an endeavor was made to elicit information from him that might lead to his restoration to his distracted parents. The little fellow appeared willing to tell all he knew. “What's your name, young they asked him. “Jimmie Rearden,” he lisped “What's your papa’s name?” “Papa.” “But what does your mamma call him?” The cherub's face lightened up with pleasure at being able to furnish the Jesired information, as he answered: ‘She tells him, you old villain, you.” The examination was postponed.— it. Louis Republican. The Poor and the Farmer. A box one day made a call upon a Peasant and bitterly complained of the custom of shutting poultry up nights in Fox-proof pens. “It isn’t because I suffer at all,” added Reynard, “but think how uncomfortable it must be for the poor Fowls. It is their condi¬ tion I wish to mitigate.” The Peasant took the matter under advisement, and next evening he ne¬ glected to shut up his Fowls. Next morning he came across the Fox just as he had finished feasting on a fat Pullet and cried out: “Ah! this is the way you take to pity my poor Fowls, is it?” “Well, you see,” grinned Reynard, “1 feel very sorry for the Fowls, but at the same time cannot afford to miss an opportunity.” of Moral: The man with ten acres land to sell is the chap who first sees the need of an orphan asylum.— Detroit Free Press, PUBLISHERS. NO. 39. humorous. Funny! One of the hottest place* on this hemisphere is Chili. Time, with a scythe, is pictured as bald-headed, so that he cannot be taken by the forelock. A Philadelphia restaurant advertises “everything from a pickled elephant to a fricasseed dude.” “I’m always getting things mixed,” as the man said who had hash set bo fore him thirteen times a week. The boy who isn’t strong enough to chop wood, is strong enough to ham¬ mer a base-ball so far that he can males a home run The man who was the coolest per¬ son at the battle of Waterloo has just died. He hid in the ice-house of ths chateau during the fight “Cluck, cluck,” clucked the^anxious hen, “I’ve lost a chicken.” “Don't brood over it, mamma,” piped another youthful member of the family. The other day a shark off the coast of Florida, swallowed an eight-day clock, and he has found out by this time how it feels to live on “tick.” A little boy who sat beside a man who had been eating Limburger cheese, turned to his mother and exclaimed: “Mamma, how I wi3b I was deaf and dumb in my nose!” How to solve a difficult problem: First Woman—“But, of course, there is no way of getting at her age.” Se¬ cond Woman—“Oh, yes, there ia> Multiply it by two.” “Yes,” said the schoolboy, “I’m at the foot o’ my class, and I calculate to stay there. Then I don’t have to stand the wear and tear of anxiety for fear I’ll lose my place.” A Troy man had his ear ripped off by a buzz saw. An excited young doc¬ tor, who had been starving for seven months for his first case, stuck it on backward; he sewed it fast and it grew. And now, the man looks like a crack trotter, waiting to get the word, and he can hear half way around the square in both directions. A Hundred Years Hence. Some people often wish that they were dead > and if this involved their living by and-by instead of now, how many will wish it, on read¬ ing the prophecy of the Rev. Mr. Fincke f an English clergyman who travelled much in America ten years ago. He now ventures to tell what he thinks is the future of “Englishry,” by which ha means the English-speaking peoples on the globe, a century hence. He ealeu lates that b Y that time th &e will be one thousand millions of them living under the same institutions and cher ishing the same ideas, social and politi¬ cal, in the United States, Canada, Aus¬ tralia, South Africa, aud Great Britian The 800,000,000 which he assigns to the United States will overflow into Canada, into Mexico, Guatemala, Colombia, Bolivia and Peru, afterwards into the valley of the Amazon, and the whole range of the Andes, into the islands of the Pacific, across which they will join hands with their kin dred in New Zealand and Australia The English settlements in South Africa, now essentially American, will spread over Southern Africa, pushing the natives to the equator. The Arner ican farmer is to inrnish the type of this new society. There will be no savages or serfs, few drones or men of all will be able to read and to write and to use their acquirements They will have homes of their owm and property enough of the very best and most educative kind—that is, in land—to yield to their intelligent in dustry sufficient means of support They will have no social or political superiors, and will manage their own affairs. There will be few or none looking forward to a pauper’s fate. The lives of the majority will be spent in the cultivation of their own land on the same terms which the American farmer now cultivates his. Morality will in this society have a tremendous force, because as there will be only one morality for all, and not, as now a separate morality for each class, it will be supported by the opinion of all 1 Women will play a larger part in the work of society than they have ever done. No pursuits will be favored by endowments or bounties. The com¬ petition between nations will be intel¬ lectual, not military competition. Oratory, painting, sculpture and arch¬ itecture will grow under it as never before. Money will be in greater use and the precious metals have a higher value than ever. Keligion will have aa strong a hold as ever on the human heart. At the head of this might; community the United States will stand morally though not politically. The President of the United States will be its foremost man, and. “the predomi¬ nant power” will be the press.