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WEDNESDAY ..JUNE 10, 1874.
DECORATION.
“ Manibu-t date lilia ptenu."
'Mid th« flower wreath'd tomb* I (tend
Bearing liliee in my hand,.
Comrades! in what soldier grave
Keep* the braveit of the brave ?
Is it he who sank to rest
With his oolora round his breast?
Friendship makes his tomb a ahrine ;
Garland* veil it; ask hot mine.
One low grave, yon trees beneath,
Bean no rose*. »eara no wreath ;
Yet no heart more high and warm
Sver dared the battle storm.
Never gleamed a prouder eye
In the tront of vietory.
Never foot had firmer tread
On the field where hope lay dead,
Than are bid within the tomb,
Where the untended grasses bloom;
And no stone, with feign'd distress,
Mocks the sacred loneliness.
Yoath and beanty, dauntless will.
Dreams that life could ne’er fulfill,
Here lie buried ; here in peace
Wrongs and woes have found release.
Turning from my comrades' eyes,
Kneeling where a woman lies,
I strew lilies on the grave
Os the bravest of the brave.
EARL HALDAN’S DAUGHTER.
| From Kingsley's ‘ Amyas Leigh. "J
It was Karl Haldan's daughter,
She look'd across the water.
And long and loud laugh'd she ;
“The locks es six princesses
Most be my marriage fee.
80 her. bonny boat, and ho. bonny boat!
Who comes a-wooing me!"
It was Karl Haldan's daughter,
She walked along the sands;
When she was aware of a knight so fair,
Come sailing to the land.
His sails ware >ll of velvet,
His mast of beaten gold,
And ‘ hey, bonny boat, and ho. bonny boat!
Who saileth here so bold ?”
••The locks of five princesses
I won beyond the sea ;
I shore their golden tresses
To fringe a cloak for thee.
One handful yet is wanting,
But one of all the*tale,
Bo bey, bonnv boat, and ho. bonny boat!
Furl up thy velvet sail!”
He leapt inttf the water,
That rover young and bold:
He gript Earl Haldan's daughter;
He shore her locks of gold ;
“Go weep, go weep, proud maiden,
The tale is full, to-day.
Bo hey, bonny boat, and ho, bonny boat!
Bail westward, ho. and away l r ’
THE REWARD.
Who, looking backward from his manhood's
prime,
Sees not the sjiectre of his misspent time ?
And thro' the thade
Os funeral cypress planted thick behind,
Hears no reproachful whisper on the wind
From his loved dead ?
Alas! the evil which we fain would slum
Wo do, and leave the wished for good undone;
Our strength to-day
Is but to-morrow's weakness, prone to fall;
Poor, blind, unprofitable servants all
Are we alway.
Yet who, thus looking backward o'er his years,
Feels not his eyelids wet with grateful tears,
If he hath been
Permitted, weak and sinful as he was,
To cheer and aid in some ennobling cause
His fellow men ?
If he hath hidden the outcast, or let iu
A ray of sunshine to the cell of sin—
If he hath lent
Strength to the weak and in an hour of need
Over the suffering, mindless of his creed
Or home, hath bent.
He has not lived in vain, and while he gives
The praise to Him, in whom he moves and
lives.
With thankful heart
He gazen backward, and with hope before,
Knowing that from his works he nevermore
Can henceforth part.
BIDDY’S PHILOSOPHY.
What would I do if you was dead ?
And when do you think of dying ?
Id stand by your bod, and hold your head,
And cry, or pretind to be crying!
There’s many a worser man nor vou—
If one knew wore to find him—
And rnabbo many a bettor, too.
With money to leave behind him !
But you, if I was dying to-day
(1 saw you now whoii you kissed her),
I tell you, Pat, what you'd be at—
You'd many your widdy's sister!
You'd make an iligant corpse, indado,
Sleeping so sound and middy;
If you could see yourself as you laid,
You'd want to come back to Biddy!
You would he dresHed in your Sunday host, •
Ah tidy as I could make you, •
With a sprig of something on your breast—
And the boys would eomo to wake you !
But you, if I was dead in your stead
(Do you think I never missed her ?),
I tell you, Pat, what you’d be at—
You’d marry your widdy's sistor!
The undertaker would drive the hearse
That has tlio big black feather;
If there waH no money left in the purse
Your frieuds would club together'
They'd look at your cold remains before
They followed you down to the ferry ;
And the coaches standin' at the door
Would go to the cemetery!
But you, if I was onco iu tlio box
(I wonder her lips don't blister)
I tell you, Pat, what you’d bo at—
You'd marry your widdy’s sister!
When you was under the sod I'd sigli,
And—if I could do without you,
Mebbe I’ve a strapping lad iu my eye
Would come here and talk about you!
A litttlo court.n' would be divertin’,
A kiud voice whispering, "Biddy /”
And a kiss on the sly—for what's tho hurt in
A man consoling a widdy ?
Hut you, bofore I was dead at all
(Now dou't deny that vou kissed her)
I tell you Pat, what you'd be at—
You'd marry your widdy's sister !
f Kiiitor's Draioer in Harper's Magazine for June.
OLD PROBABILITIES.
Who warns ub of the coming storm,
Amt hiutH of currents cold or warm,
Which may effect the human form ?
Old Probabilities.
Who tells the farmer when to sow,
To plough, to plant, to reap, to mow,
That Plenty may her gifts bestow ?
Old Probabilities.
When men go on the sea in ships,
Who telleth with prophetic lips.
The time to start upon their trips ?
Old Probabilities.
If ever human foresight fails.
And malioo tills the carper's sails.
Who feels the chill, unwelcome gales?
Old Probabilities.
With charity for other’s fault,
Why should we make unkind assault.
If short of truth sometime should halt
Old Probabilities?
If knowledge comes with laps* of years.
Whv spare we not our flippant Biieers,
And for the future have no fears
Os Probabilities ?
Why took our grandsires, as it cauie.
Weather and wind of evory name ?
Because then quite unknown to fame
Were Probabilities.
E'en now the people of Japan,
Os Zanzibar and Hindustan.
Must lay their plans as best they can
Without Probabilities.
If aught of good is seen to flow,
From knowing how the wind should blow.
Why not let all the wide world know ?
Old Probabilities.
E'en yet. beyond the range of earth.
Where new born spirit- find their birth.
We hope ero long there'll bo no dearth
Os Probabilities.
THE SUN AND THE STARS.
One day. when the sun was going down.
He said to a star hard by :
“ Sparkle your best; for you see, my friend.
I’m going out of the sky."
Now. the little star was as old as the sun.
Though rather small of his age.
So he kept quite still in the yellow light,
And looked as wise as a sage.
•' I'nagoing. you see !" cried the sun again,
“Going right out of the sky!"
And he slid away, but not out of sight
Os that little star hard by.
The little star, peeping, saw him go
On his gorgeous western way;
And twinkled with fun. as he said, “ 0, sun!
You're in for another day!
“ And as for going out of the sky,
Your majesty knows vou can't.’
Yon are shining somewhere, full and strong,
In spite of your rays aslant."
No answer. Then the star grew bright
And sparkled as neighbors came ;
He told the joke to the twinkling crowd,
And they laughed the sun to shame.
One merry star was st> amused.
He shot across the sky;
And all the others bobbed and blinked
To see him speeding by.
Bat. after awhile, a rosy light
Appeared on the Eastern side :
And. one by one. the stars grew shy.
And tried in the sky to hide.
“Ho! ho!" the sun broke forth. “Ho!” ho!"
Just stay where you are. my dears.
Ana shine’away. for you can't be seeu
When all of my light appears.
“ The people below will say vou are gone.
Though you’re shining. Think of that!
Well, they thought all night I had left the aky.
So it’s only tit for tat."
(Jfary Mopes Dodge, in Sf. Xicholat for June.
A Virginia sheriff held office thirty
eight successive years, and when they
turned him out at at last he felt just as
bad as a candidate who had run 400 be
hind his ticket. Somehow it's hnman
nature to want to hold a fat office.
The game of putting tar on front door
knobs is a venerable one, bat boys de
clare that there is more fun to the square
foot than any other trick ever invented.
One can’t realize how snch a simple
thing will operate upon the most pro
found mind.
LOW DOWN.
STORY OF A VIOLIN AND A VOICE.
I. —THE VIOLIN.
The scene was not one a poet would
long to revisit It was plain, vulgar,
squalid—a slattern roadway, dignified
with the name of street, upon which
looked aleepily, through fringes of trees
and common shrubs, apd dirty, unpaint
ed, irregular palings, the low-down, di
lapidated houses of a low-down fishing
village on one of the North Carolina
sounds. Sandy Lnd dusty, it broiled
under an August sun, full of filth that
gave forth unwholsome, sour odors,
shells of oysters, clams and crabs, fish
refuse, and discarded apparatus of men
and houses. In Winter it would be
miry, almost a quicksand; now, the
dust, hot as an oven, was half foot deep.
Back of the houses on the right were
the endless forests of pice, still and
solemn in the hot noon. Back of the
houses on the left was the Sound, a
broad lake of molten metal, glowing and
glaring and quivering with unwholsome
heat. Pete Howlet’s tavern, long and
low, sat squatting by the roadway, with
a churlish air of hospitality in its horse
rack, pump and trough, its bleached
and blistered sign-post, and its broad
porch with brick pavement, upon which
still lay the litter cut by loafers’ pen
knives out of the hard wood benches
that were ranged against the wall. The
flies swarmed about it; and, hot as it
was under the gambrel roof, the sick
stranger kept his room there, looking
out on the mossy roof of the porch, in
preference to a hickory chair down there
below, or a seat in the bar-room so
odorous of rum, sugar and tobacco
juice. He sat by the front window, and
looked down upon the tawny street, un
occupied, save for a scattering child or
two, white or black, a slovenly slip-shod
woman or two, at pump or gr'ocery
door, and a lord or two of the place, ap
proaching with philosophic saunter, to
renew his familiarity with Howiet’s
pine-top whisky. At the horse rack a
piebald mare was liitchftd, a mule colt
frisking at her heels, and giving her
such anxiety of mind that, between it
and the flies, life was palpably a burden
to her. The young man stamped his
foot impatiently, got up with languid
step, and walked to the chair at the op
posite window, where he sat, resting his
elbows on the sill, biting his long,
tawny moustache, and gripping great
handfuls of his wild, dishevelled yellow
hair. Below him, Pete Howlet’s kitchen
garden showed sickly rows of cabbages,
struggling with giant weeds, and masses
of sweet potato vines matted over their
mounds; sunflowers and hollyhocks
bloomed by the palings, and a fig bush
in one corner wrestled in the embraces
of a wild grape vine, into which a great
ptirfipkin vine had clambered to hold its
yellow blossoms to the sun. Beyond
this, other gardens, at back of other
low-down houses; and then, the un
wrinkled molten surface of the glaring,
staring sound.
The young man sat, and brooded, and
gnawed his great? mustache, and pulled
his yellow hair. Then his eye caught
the fragments of a great red and yellow
show bill posted on the boards of an ad
jacent fence —the bill of a traveling cir
cus, full of pomp and parade; but nearly
all the “unrivalled excellences” had been
stripped ofl' by the boys, save a remnant
of sundry “bare back acts,” and the an
nouncement that the orchestra would be
led by “the distinguished Herr Gottlob
Klimin, late first violinist of the Royal
Conservatory, Copenhagen.” Thereat
the young man smiled a sickly, bitter
smile, and murmured between his
clinched teeth, as he rose again:
“Troutes ces ohoses nont passees.
Comme Tombre et comme le vent.”
He filled and lighted his brown meer
schaum; then, from under the rickety,
uncomely bed drew out a black violin
case, with “G. Klimm’s” name plainly
printed on it,. He took out a brown and
ancient instrument—you might know it
was a treasure from the tender way he
handled it—and, resuming hig chair by
the garden window, where it was now
shady, began to put the violin in tune,
“Copenhagen !” he muttered to himself,
with a sort of half humorous sigh—“’tis
a long way off—from here ! Ah ! Niels
Gade ! This is something different from
the souvenirs of Leipsic—from thy me
lodious melancholy naturalism ! It is
nature here, too—but nature wrung dry
aiid spread out in the sun to bleach.
And here I am how came I here ?”
Not impertinent, that question, sure
ly. How came the pupil of Gade, the
favorite of Copenhagen and Leipsic, the
brilliant young violinist, whose phos
phorite symphonies, with their strange
power and marked individuality, were
expected after awhile to rival the higher
works of Schumann—how came this mu
siean to be stranded thus in a dingy
tavern iu a Carolina fishing village? It
came, as such things ulwaya come,
through his pliosphorism—through the
incandescent passions of such men,
whose souls, full of genius, wild with
the fierce democracy of creative youth,
are yet a chaos over which irregular
storms of impulse drive at will, and in
which the lack of determinate purpose,
the absence of all inward harmony, work
continual anguish and continual unrest.
Such men are fairly crazed with self-con
sciousness, nor do they ordinarily regain
right reason until the storms of life hive
battered them almost beyong recogni
tion, and “the shades of the prison
house begin to close.” So KJjmm had
wandered off to teach the world the
mystic' music that was humming and
buzzing in his brain. But the world
refused to be taught; in a measure, even
doubted tho authenticity of Klimm’s
mission to it. So had followed disap
paintmeut, and reckless dissipation, and
loss of power and place, until, to fiddle
for a traveling circus was the best he
could do, and even that better than he
did. This was in 1866, when the circus
companies moved cn masse, into the
Southern States, which had not seen a
circus since 1860. lvliigm drank so hard
that his hand could scarcely do justice
even to the poor orchestra of which he
was the leader, and, at this very town
where wo now find him, the catastrophe
had come: a wild bout had given him a
bilious attack, a severe congestive chill
had made him seriously ill; and the
circus departed without him, the pro
prietor paying the landlord for two
weeks’ board and medical attendance
for him, but at the same time cancelling
his engagement. So here lie was, at the
end of the fortnight, penniless, weak,
disheartened, with never a friend to
turn to, never a voice to understand
him, or sympathize with him, and only
a persistent tertain ague to keep him
company! Spite of his unkempt and
haggard face, and dress the worse for
wear, Gottlob Klimin waa a noble look
ing man, just turned of thirty; hair and
beard blond as ripened wheat; deep,
liquid bine eyes; pale, sharp features,
high and finely drawn—a triie Norse
face, aristocratic, well bred. Large
boned and tall, his illness made him
seem gaunt and unhealthy; but his was
tho well knit, powerful frame of a
gymnast, ami the hand that touch
•etl the violii! so deftly had yet
the grip of a rice and the power of a
pugilist. Deftly indeed it touched the
violin, which, now iu tune, responded to
the masters varying mood with sobs of
sound that strangely waked the silence
of that sultry August noon. There
came from it tones that were almost hu
man in the fullness of their expression ;
cries of desolation, of protest, of des
pair, tears and iueffable grief ; voices of
mistrust, of agony, of mouruiug for
buried hopes and drowned ambitious ;
dirges for lives untimely put away, with
sombre funeral pomp, in the damp
shadows of the old cathedral vaults. It
was a sick, sad soul, in fact, putting all
its seeret woes and complaints into the
divine language of tone. Suddenly
Klimm ceased to play and listened. The
violin had awakeued a voice. And such
a voice 1 Klimm thought he had never
heard a voice like this, although he had
heard many and famous ones. It was a
voice that put him m mind of the Spring j
mornings bright and fresh with their j
dewy glittering over the sun kissed
gras’s—only, it was more Summerlike
than that, a fruity, meat r voice, of won
derful scope, full of blood, full of sweet- j
ness, full of experience, and so swelling, |
so joyous, so arch, so riant, that the;
violin’s murmur and despair seemed a ;
tone belonging to quite another world.
Yet the voice was waked by the violin, ,
and reproved it, as sunshine rebukes the i
clouds. It was singing a simple jolly
negro melody:
“ De mus'rat creep Tong down de pas
Wlia' d*t ? What dat ?
De mus'rat kick UP liis heel* an' laugh—
Yah. haw, hah! JCi-yah!
Dis nigger come wid <le tirin' sun.
But de trap am sprung and da bait am gone.
Ki-yah. ole mus’rat!"
But, out of this simple, roliicky tune,
the glamour of the voice wove a whole
mockiug world of rebuke, and merry,
quizzical satire of the melancholy violin
ist, until he felt himself growiug. half ’
angry with the consciousness of being (
personally laughed at. The voice ceased j
at last, and the violin, appeased, played j
a fresh and genial andante, the pleasant j
but flimsy echo of the flighty thought of
a spurred yet jaded moment. ..Then the j
voice, quite ignoring the violin, and its j
shifting shuttle of moods, broke sud
denly and gloriously into a negro air, ,
taken from a pathetic chorus in opera— :
“ Dey stole, dey stole, dey stole my «Uild away !”
With such sweetness, such pathos, such j
wonderful force of divine eloquence
that Klimm, the tear* streaming down
his cheeks, sprang up and cried : “I’ll
find the owner of that voice—l’ll find
her, though I die for it 1” He noticed
the house from which the singing seemed
to come, put his instrument into its
case again, made a slight toilet, anil de
scended the rickety tavern stairs into
the bar-room. “Across tins way,” said
he, to the landlord, pointing, “who is it
sings—like an angel ?” Pete Howlet
laughed. “There’s Jane Rayner over
yander, can sing loudest of any of the
gals, I believe, and split shad faster’n
a*y on ’em, too. As for the angel, jest
call her one, es you want to get
smacked over the mouf by the hardest
red hand in Carliny.” Klimm put his
hands to his ears and darted into the
sun stricken, dusty street. The violin
was gone in aearch of the voice.
n.— THE VOICE.
Down a narrow alley, full of fish
refuse, to the beach,, Klimm went, and
came tothebovel overagainstthe tavern,
from which, as he had taken pains to note,
the voice had proceeded. He opened
the gate, under a fastoon of crimson
cvpress-vine, and walked toward the
open cottage door. Inside sat two
women, a tub between them, and at their
elbows a barrel—they were skinning
cels, cutting them in pieces, and salt
ing them into the barrels, for bait for
crabs.
The elder woman, small, and bent,
and wrinkled, her head embellished
with a close-fitting muslin cap, her
blue frock thriftily trussed above a
brown-qnilted petticoat, a red hanker
chief pinned about her neck, looked up
at Klimm with very bright black eyes,
over which her thick gray eyebrows
bent scrutinizingly. Her face was cross
lined like a county map, and every
wrinkle about her toothless mouth was
grimy with snuff and tobacco-juice; for
all that, she was a comely old crone,
and a sharp one. The younger woman
looked up too, but still went on skinning
eels, and still went on hunning—
“They stole, they stole, they stole my child
away!"
There was snuff about her cherry lips,
also, and between them the dogwood
“brush,” by means of which the loath
some operation of “dipping” is per
formed. For all that it was a pretty
mouth, a mouth that was not unbecom
ing the rich burst of sound Klimm had
heard issuing from it. Klimm hesitated
on the threshhold, appalled by the in
congruous mixture of eels and divine
harmony which he beheld before him.
He had come, expecting—well, he knew
not what, perhaps, but assuredly some
thing very different from this. And the
snuff and the “dipping-brush”—pali !
And the ancient and eel-like smell—fob 1
“What might yon be pleased to want,
sir ?” challenged the old woman, as he
comprehended both of them in a sweep
ing, gracious, graceful bow. “It’s the
sick man from old Pete’s—the one that
was with the show, Aunt Nancy,” ex
plained the young woman. “Aw—yes !
We’m heard on you ! Got better, sir ?
Look ’sif ye’d had a spell. These here
iigys mostly goes hard with strangers,
though we mis don’t mind ’em. It’s
lucky we’m used to ’em, for thar’s no
thint comes more regl’lar, unless it is
shad-season. I kin cure ’em, as maybe
ye’ve heard. Conscience alive, Jauey,
why don’t you hand the gentleman a
chair, and him sick, too !” The young
woman smiled, stood up, wiping her
hands and bare arms on her apron as
she turned to get a chair from the other
side of the room. “Don’t trouble your
self—l prefer to stand,” lie said, watch
ing her with undisturbed admiration.
“Oh, it’s no bother,” she said, in her
full, rich voice, placing a heavy chair
for him as another might lift a key bas
ket. And so she stood looking at him
as if he looked at her, not boldly, yet
bravely and free.
She was worth looking at—worth his
admiration—and his soul made an in
ward confession that hers was a frame
fit to encase the voice that had drawn
him thither. Dress wild and savage
colored, full of naked, glaring reds—a
great paste breastpin, and ear-ring fit
for a queen in Congo—he saw these; and
the plump, large freckled hands, with
their water-curdled, chappy fingers.—
But he saw also above the hands a pair
of bared white arms like ivory washed in
milk and carved for the statue of Diana.
He saw the grand free curves, and grace
ful proportions of her figure, a solid,
vigorous, living pattern of warm, undu
lating, flexuous muscle and nerve,
strong, and knit with firmness, and
energy, and activity, yet not too gross
nor coarse to destroy the effect of the
gently retreating lines and mellow con
tours of beautiful maidenhood — a su
perb, matchless framework under a
sculptor’s master piece of lines. He
saw the fine contour of the face spite its
mask of sunburn and tan, and freckles—
the quick, black, vivacious, intelligent
eye, the ripe, cherry lips over dazzling
teeth, the matchless chin and neck, the
perfect nose, the ears that were smaller
and more pink because of their barbar
ous hoops, the rose that mantled under
the brown of her face for all its weather
worseness, and the great careless masses
of glorious black liair, silken but not
satiny, smooth but not sleek—hair that
lived and had a being of its own, and
was justified for its beauty’s sake So
seeing all this, and wondering, he looked
at her; and she looked nt him, seeing a
handsome man out of her sphere, whom
she pitied for his sickness, and was a
sorrowed for because lie drank, as slie
had heard, so desperately hard—withal,
ready to question his right to stand and
stare there, and quite in the mood to
resent an impertinence should she de
tect any. But that at least he did not
intend. “Pardon me,” he said, “I am,
as you say, a stranger, and have been
sick; I don’t want to intrude, but—l am
a musician—” here he looked at Janey—
“l heard a voice just now, a voice—
singing—” Janey smiled, then the
warm blood flushed up through brown
and tan, and she cast down her eyes,
blushing a little, and confused, she
knew not why. The violin was .talking
to her in propria persona, whereas she
had only spoken to the violin in song.
But Aunt. Nancy came to the rescue like
a matter of fact old lady as she was.
“There, Jauey,” said she, turning on
the young woman witli a severe rebuke
in her countenance and voice—“there!
ain’t I always a telling you about it ?
she will do it, Mister, spite’n all I can
say, she will do it. They do say they
can hear her five mile off, camp meetin’
time, wlie she gits the steam up. It’s
the curousest thing I ain’t gone deaf as a
door nail long ago. Did she disturb
you much, sir?” Klimm smiled faintly,
then broadly; and the girl, still blush
ing,’broke into the merriest peal of jo
cund, musical laughter that was ever
heard—laughter whose contagion seized
him, and made him laugh, too—faintly,
it might be—but, then, it was many a
day since he had honestly laughed at all.
“Disturb !” said he, enthusiastically,
“I’ve heard all the fine singers in the
world, but never a voice like yours ! It
does not belong—pardon me—to this
place i” “You don’t tell me !” said the
old woman, raising her eyebrows. Janey,
with a doubtful look, resumed her seat.
Maybe he was quizzing her. She picked
up au eel skin, twisting it about her red
fingers. “Do you know music?” he
askedi “Laws, yes,” answered the
crone, “alio ought to. She’s been sing
ing ever since afore she could walk.
“You love it, of course?” Her face
softened with the consciousness of her
love for it, and she said: “You do fiddle
grand, mister! But you make it say
such funny things ! Makes my flesh
creep J” “Now, Janey, how foolish you
are! As if a fiddle could talk! No
more’u a cat can—they do screech some
thing alike at- times. I reckon its the
similarity in guts !” Jane laughed once
more, as merrily as before. “Aunt
Nancy, you do pass the witches ! she
said. * “Well,” rejoiued the old woman,
“I like the fiddle amazing, for all that—
especially jigs and dances! Cricky!
I’ve seen the barn floors shake before
now when old Abe Benson used to play,
and a dozen of us gals and our fellers
were keeping it up arter midnight. I
say, mister, if yer well enough bring yer
fiddle round some night and give us a
cliune—be sociable. JaaevTl sing her
newspaper song for you, maybe.’
“Thank you, madam, I will.” “Ma
dam, says he!” criticised the old wo
man, looking at Janey; then she turned
to him—“aud, if yer agy ain’t leavin’ yer,
come round. I’ll fix ye up a yarb aud
cobweb tea that’ll sweat it out of ye ! ’
“Thank you, madam,” said he; and bow
ing again, departed. This was the meet
ing of violin aud voice.
111. O AIR A .
Bv no means a satisfactory meeting,
so far as the violin was concerned. The
cuntrast between the richness, the mel
low purity of the voice, and its coarse,
vulgar, mean, low dowu surroundings,
was far too great to be agreeable, It
nauseated the sickly fellow. For this
Klimm, for all his idealizing about de
mocracy, was a true child of culture; au
exotic, not house flower that wilted and
shivered in the bold sunshine of com
mon life. His sensibilities tffere none
of them popular—he was dainty, finicky
—neat and attentive in dress, sedulous
about Iris finger-nails, a precision in the
forms aud ceremonies. How could he
meet hail’ yay this rich, full blown
flower of the woods, wild its Jjpld petals,
garish outrages of color and roots, feed
ing on the muck heap ?—the fragrance
was rare, aud precious and incompara
ble; but who could pot a sunflower ? He
had expected to find a woodling, an
anemone, perhaps, or a cardinal dower;
but an oxeye daisy—so common, yet so
sweet! In short, the violin w#s disgust
ed —was in despair. Eel skins, snuff
dipping, course dialect, naive vulgarity,
all came oyer him like a revnlsiou after
excitement. He plunged desperately
into Pete Howlet’s, into the bar room,
and among the loafers already assembled,
and, fraternizing with them all the force
of the Bohemian instincts that outcrop
ped from the nether side of his artistic
temperament, sought to quench his dis
appointments, chagrins, and disgusts,
iu flowing cups of Pete Howlet’s most
acrid “pine top.”
That night the violin came down out
of its case into the bar room, and made
the half drunk crowd almost crazy with
the wild raptures of the fiddler’s most
frantic mood, struck off in showers from
its strings as the sparks fly from the
heated iron on the anvil when the merci
less hammer visits it with breathless fre
quency of blows. That night fishermen
and townsmen, full of fiery whisky and
fiery new inspirations, born they knew
not how, nor whence implanted into
them, fraternized with the mad fiddler,
and swore his equal did not live among
good fellows; while Pete Howlet, taking
him aside, after noting the unwonted
diminution in the contents of his decan
ters, and accumulation in his till, with
drunken gravity assured him that for
board and pine top free he might hence
forth command all the resources of the
Howlet ordinary as long as either land
lord or guest lived. That night, after
all was still and the drunken men had
staggered homeward, there followed an
other dreadful chiil to shake the weary
life half ouf °f Gottlob Klimm; and
then a furious fever, in the madness and
delirium of which, aggravated as it was
by whisky, and weakness and overstrain
of nerves, the sick man, a madman now,
leaped up from bed and scrambled bare
foot out upon the porch, and down the
whitewashed pillars; noiseless, to the
ground, and then, by a filthy lane, a
well remembered way, got where the
waters rolled upon the beach with hol
low, solemn roar, and avoiding habita
tions, came upon a lonely place close by
the side of the sea.
The light waves of leaden water rolled
softly in, and broke heavily against the
shore with shuddering sounds, like the
throes of a great animal in pain. They
did not vex the peace of the night, but
merely gave it a murmur and a minor
tone of agony . Up shore the bells of
multitudinous frog3 rang a subdued, un
ceasing, muffled peal that ebbed and
flowed like the waving of a flag. In the
distance a single whippoorwill impor
tunately persisted, while a cock crew
faintly on his perch a mile or so away.
A thin, gray mist enveloped sky and
water, through which, low down hung
the moon, a monstrous wine colored
globe with rays shorn short, all the mist
around it lustrous with a strange amber
radiance. Out of the mist came the
sound of sculls tapping the rowlocks,
and the light flash of oars dipping into
the water. Then those sounds were
hushed again, and, in their stead, the
voice of someone singing—therich, full,
mellow, miraculous voice, singing to a
strange, weird melody—a melody fit for
Morgan’s nymphs to sing, bearing the
living Arthur homeward to their mystic
isle—singing:
“But some were sal, and felt no mirth,
But only music's wrong,
In sounds that sang farewell, farewell,
To her you’ve loved so long.”
Not “low down” any longer now. “Lur
ley ! Lurlev !” cried the madman on the
beach; “it is the Lurley ! 1 will go to
her, and clasp her, and die !” And he
plunged forward into the leaden waters,
and swam out through the mist. Again
the voilin has gone to meet the voice.
IV. —MOONLIGHT. ,
Jane Rayner has been out in her boat
setting crab lines. It is now three
o’clock, a. m., the eve of daybreak. She
went out an hour ago to set the lines,
which her cousin, Rube Rayner, will be
gin to fish in the morning. Her task is
done, and she grasped the heavy sculls in
her hands to row herself homeward.
So nehow, however, Jane is not very
sleepy, and she does not hurry herself
much. She rows a few strokes, and then
rests the oars and looks moomvard. She
is perhaps tired—she has rowed a mile,
and payed out fifty fathoms of heavy
baited, cork-and-leaded line. At any
rate, she pauses, ceases from rowing,
crosses the oars npon the thwarts be
for, and thinks—muses, one would say,
only Janey is assuredly not a romantic
person. Yet she does not look low down
either, in the rocking boat, in the muffled
moonlight a silent, flexuous figure, half
enveloped in the amber veil of mist,
half diaphanous and spirit-like against
the slant splendors of the satellite swim
ming yonder in its lake of yellow ra
diance. And, if not romantic, Janey’s
feelings were not yet incongruous with
her romantic surroundings. She felt a
vague, pathetic sadness stealing over her,
in harmony with,the wish and gurgle of
the waves, aud their pat blows against
the lifting, rocking boat; with the still,
misty air, and the resinons odors that
floated toward her from the pine forests,
whose murmurous voices she rather felt
than heard. It is scarcely fair to trans
late her mood into the low down dia’ect;
yet still, what she said was, in its rude
fashion, indicative of her feelings :
“I never see such big, blue, starin’
eyes—looked right down into me, like I
was clear as cove water in October !
Such a man ! What a pity he drinks !
Do I love music ? I bet you ! Them
words, somehow, has anew meaning to
me, aud I’ve been singin’ off au’ on these
sixteen year, and maybe never know
what it was to sing in all that time.
Wish a singin’ master’d come about
these parts. I’d get Aunt Nancy to let
me jine his class ! Wonder will lie fetch
his fiddle round, and ask me to siDg my
newspaper song ? ’Pears as if I can’t
sing it rightly in a room where thar’s
company standin’ round and starin’ at
me; but here /” And, like a caged
nightingale just unprisoned, with swell
ing throat, and grand expansion of the
full, rounded chest, she sangthe song of
Hood’s:
“But some were sad, and Telt no mirth,
But only music’s wrong,
In sounds that sang farewell, farewell,
To her you’ve loved so long.”
“Wonder who that ‘fair Innis’ was ?”
she said, coming down from poety to
prose. “Ah!” what’s that splashing
yonder ? A shirk ! No ! it’s a man—
it’s him ! Lord love me—he’s drownd
in’!” Out oars ! Swift, steady, man
ful stroke ! Every nerve a quiver—
every muscle strained—the water rush
ed by—the boat cleaved the ripples—
the full, courageous voice bade him
keep up, for she was coming ! It was
the work of a minute and a half—twenty
firm, nervous sttokes of the bent, flash
ing oars—a dexterous rounding to —in
oars—a grapple—a strain—and the stout
boat dipped and careen* and, the strong
arms tugged at their burden, and the
dripping, drenched, drowning violinist
was pulled out of the waves, and slip
ped dowu across a seat of the boat, limp
and lfeless ! In good time the voice
had come to tho violin.
V. —TONIC AND DOMINANT.
A simply furnished but not untidy
garret room, with all the little arrange
ments about it which, even in low-down
dwellings, mark the nest of the female
of our species—Janey Raynor’s room, in
fact; and, occupant of her bed, in the
hot delirium of a relapsed bilious fever,
the blonde, blue-eyed musician whom
she had pulled out of the water, and
rowed to shore, and borne thither on
her shoulders, like a sack ! It was the
second daj after this incident, and
Janey sat watching by the occupant of
her bed, who lay with flushed face and
closed eyes, and fair hair all tossed and
beard, awry, sleeping in heavy torpor
after long and wild delirium. Aunt
Nancy came in, with noiseless steps, and
whispered in her ear: “The doctor
says he’ll come round, now—the fever’s
break in’, and good nussin’ ’ll do the
rest. Go out an’ git some fresh air now,
Janey, do ee, child ? I’ll watch him
like he was my own baby, poor fellow !”
Jane placed her hand upon Klimm’s
forehead, and it seemed, indeed, as if
there were a beginning of moisture
about the hot, dry skin. The patient
moaned feebly, as if in pain, and the
hand was withdrawn, and Janey stole
away, out of the room dowu stairs, aud
into* the unfamiliar, staring light of
garish day. In the little front-yard, in
iiis shirt-sleeves stood her huge eon-in,
Rube Rayner, nursing his great fists on
the gate-posts, and thoughtfully chew
ing a monstrous quid. A big fellow,
with a powerful arm and a big heart,
and no brains to speak of. ‘‘Mammy
says he's ail right now,” said Rube, as
Janey came and stood by him. “Gorsh !
I’m "glad. He’s strong as a devil fisli
when the fever’s on him, that fiddler is !
My arms ache a-holdiu’ him. I say,
Janey, did you hear what old Pets How
let’s gone an' done ? It’s a dern shame,
I say, to drap on to a sick man that
way!” “No; what is it?” asked Janey.
“Yy’ent to see old Curn’l Woozum fer
advice, aud seized on to the fiddler’s
close and his fiddle for board, and puts
’em up to auction this yere very night!
I say it’s a shame !” Jane gave a quick
cry, “The fiddle ! “Yas,” said Rube,
“aud I reek’n there'll be a row when
him up yonder gets V some !
o’ the boys money couldn't bay that j
fiddle.” Jane darted into the house, !
snatched a pink calico sun bonnet off a I
hook, came out, u-tA said promptly: j
“You come with me, Rube’ I” With ,
rapid feet she hurried round the corner, i
followed by Rube, and into the dusty j
main street, right to the tavern porch, !
where Pete Howlet, in lis shirt sleeves, |
with his chair titled luxurously back j
against the wall, sat smoking a great!
red clay pipe, with a reed stem. His
chair came back with a rap to its nor
mal position as Jane Rayner confronted
him,
“Is—is the man dead, Janey ?” “How
much do be owe yon, Mr. Howlet —the
sick gentleman, I mean, whose goods
yer kind enough to levy on ?” “ Why,
look a hyar, Janey—l am sorry for the
man, blest if I ain’t; but we landlords
has to lose—“ flow much, man ? how
mnch ?” cried Jane, with blazing eyes,
as she impetuously stamped her foot.
“ Well, it’s only three dollars and a
half, that's a fact," began Mr. Howlet; I
“but ye see, Miss Rayner—Janey;
steppe*! one step back, triced up her •
frock, put her hand into the loDg pocket
of a quilted petticoat, the facsimile of
Aunt Nancy’s, and out of a shot bag
purse took seven bright silver pieces.
Jane sold fish sometimes and carried the
huckster's standby. “ There I” said she,
tailing the money into Howlet’s palm,
“yerpaid! Rube, go fetch down the
trunk and fiddle.” “ The fiddler’s byar
in the bar,” said the obsequious Howlet,
glad to rise out of the fire of her eyes.
“ Yer see, Miss Rayner,” said he, as he
returned with the black case, “ I would
a-boarded and lodged the man for noth
imt to have him play, but- he tuck sick,
and I’ve a wife and chillen—Jane
snatched the violin case from his hands
and turned away. “I alters heard you
was the meanest man in Garliny, Pete
Howlet,” said she; “now I know it!
Come on, Rube Rayner !” and, leaving
Howlet quite transfixed with that Par
thian shot, she proceeded homeward fol
lowed by Reuben, with the trunk on his
shoulders.
After the fever left, the patient came
round speedily, but was very weak,
seemed scarcely to know, and palpably
not to care, where he was. Janey gave
the violin case a conspicuous place on
the toilet table, but left most of the
nursing to her aunt, now that Klimm
was conscious once more. One after
noon, however, she was in the room
with her aunt while he slept. Suddenly
a weak and rather querulous voice start
ed her. “Where did you get that song,
Lnrlev?” Jane turned, hesitated, blush
ed. “The song you sang that night—
Hood’s song—tell me!” “Oh, I cut it
outen a newspaper one time.” “Not
the words ! The tune—the air—that is
what I meaD.” “Oh, I don’t know —it
kinder came to me like.” “Came to
you! Who taught you music?” “No
body. I don’t know it.” “Come here!”
She stood by the bedside. He took her
rough red hand and kissed it. Jane
snatched it away, aud blushed crimson.
“Janey, Janey,’humor him, Jauey,”
croned the old woman; “it mout fetch
the fever back agin es ye crossed him,
honey !” “I ask vour pardon,” he
whispered. “There,* Janey, you hear
that!” chimed in the ancient chorus. —
But Janey fled, suffused like a peony.
VI.—THE SOUL OF A VIOLIN.
Ten days later, quite convalescent,
clothed, and in his right mind, Gottlob
Klimm sat, just at dusk, in the door
way of the little fisherman’s house.
Within the door, properly near him, sat
Jane Rayner. He folded the newspaper
he had been reading, but she continued
her work—with rapid fingers she was
nettieg the meshes of a net of twine. “I
am going away to-morrow, Janey,” said
he, with a very palpable sigh. But she
did not answer. “A dear friend of mine,
a musician, this jiaper tells me, will be
in Richmond to-morrow. He is rich,
and will supply my wants. I must see
him. Your cousin has lent me money
to pay my way. I shall be gone a week.
Will you miss me ?” Jane did not an
swer.* He rose and went in. Aunt Nancy
was nodding in her chair, and Reuben,
his day’s work done, lay prone upon the
floor, snoring. Kliinm took his violin
from a corner of the room, resumed his
his seat in the door way, and played—
played a little love song without words,
a soft, simple melody, sad and sweet,
measured, low—a cooing, murmurous
echo of his thought. “Will you sing
for me? Just a verse of the Lurley
song, before Igo away ?” lie asked. “No,
I can’t. Don’t ask me !” said the girl,
with tears in her voice, and swelling,
heaving bosom. So he forbore, and, in
stead, touched the violin again, and
aud played the air of the song himself,
and followed it with a fantasie of varia
tions, the budding of his thought then
and there. The young woman’s eyes
glistened. He ceased playing. He laid
the violin gently across her lap, and
rose and bent over her, and whispered:
“ I leave you this till I return, Jaiey.
My soul is in thi3 little instrument. I
leave it in your keeping.” So he vent
off to bed, and Janey sat there and kiss
ed the soul ease, and hugged it to her
bosom—sat thus until Aunt Narcy,
rousing with a start, cried out : “Massey
me ! It must be midnight, aud thar you
set, Janey; as I’m a sinful creator’, a
nussin’ the fiddle like a baby ! —Yoi,
Rube, git up and go to bed !” How tint
week went by, Jane Rayuer never knew,
save that her spirit of song returned to
her with fourfold power, and Aunt Nanc*
wondered wliat made her so mopy and
good for nothing. It did go by, how
ever, and at its end Gottlob Klimm came
back again, dressed out in fine new
clothes, and demanded bimself and liis
bundles to be received again at the cot
tage, and to lodge again iu the little
low bowed room under the hip roof.
This is not a chronicle, but only a sketch,
so I shall not tell how Janey gave back
his violin again to Klimm, and liow he,
nobody being by, seized her two hands—
the chappy, red hands—and prisoned
them, and would not let them go, upon
the plea that she had stolen liis soul
from out the violin, and owed him an
equivalent. Nor liow, next day, pro
ducing one of his largest bundles just
from Richmond, he laid it iu the old
woman’s lap, while Janey escaped the
room, and, exposing the soft white fabric
to view, told Aunt Nancy there was
Janey’s wedding dress.
“Yer gwine to take her away—our lit
tle Janey ?” Yes, he said; she had a
genius for music that, properly culti
vated, would bring the world in admira
tion to her feet. And he loved lier, and
would take her with him, and find her
proper sphere for her. “I was afeerd
so, mister,” said the old woman, sorrow
fully. “But the Lord’s will be done !
She’s mighty fond of singin’, and I
reclt’n she’ll be at home wherever singin’
is. I ain’t sorry she’s gwine to git a
proper edication like. Poor little Janey !
This house’ll be never the same when
she's gone !” “She shall come back to
you again often,” said Klimm, compunc
tious at the old lady’s sad tone. “Yas,
I know; and I don’t doubt you’ll be kind
to her, and it’s all for the best. But
she’ll never come back like she’s been
heretofore. We’ll never see . our little
Janey any mo’!” The wedding was a
quiet fisher’s wedding, such as became
the bride’s associations. Klimm wished
it to be so for the sake of these kindly
but homely people, to whom he owed so
much. And then he took his bride
away, and strove to teach her to put the
fisher world and its low dowu ways be
hind her, aud begin anew life in the
plane of art aud love.
VII. —EPILOGUE.
I am not authentically advised con
cerning the subsequent and more recent
fortunes of Gottlob Klimm and his wife.
A friend of mine, however, an amateur
in Baltimore, who is enthusiastically
devoted to music, has lately written to
me some gossip concerning anew Ameri
can prima donna and her husband,
which I can well believe applies to our
two friends. It is, in substance, that
Professor Asger Hamerik, just installed
director of the Musical Academy at
tached to the Peabody Institute in Bal
timore, and who is himself a favorite
pupil of Gade and Von Bulow, reports
that musical circles in Europe are on
the qui tlive concerning anew romantic
opera now in rehersal and soon to be
brought out at La Scala, in Milan.—
“The opera, the name of which is the
‘Nissmaidcn’ (a sort of Danish Lur
line), is the composition of that rising
young musician, Gottlob Klimm, one
of the most admirable violinists and
composers in the world, and the leading
part is to be filled by his wife, who is
said to be an American by birth.—
has studied in the best
conservmories of Northern and Southern
Europe, and is reported to possess a
voice of unexampled register, power and
sweetness. Her dramatic force and
power of intense expression are particu
larly admired, and it is reported, as. a
crowning excellence, that she will be
one of the loveliest of prima donnas,
with a regal presence, and aims and
hands superb. If these things be so we
shall at last have au American prima
donna iu whom we oan take rightful
pride.
Can this new phenomenon indeed be
the low-down fisher girl of Carolina ?
Can voice respond thus perfectly to
violin ? Can love and art work miracles
like this ?
I, at least, believe so; and I know
both art and love. Edward S fencer.
Anecdote of Congressman Nesmith.
—The funny man of the House this
Winter is said to be Mr. Nesmith, of
Oregon, who tefia or himself some very
amusing stories. He served one term
in the Senate several years ago, and a
iew days after he was sworn in he was
passing one of the cloak rooms, and in
side were Fessenden, Morrill, and sev
eral otners, whose names we can’t re
call. They hailed him, invited him in,
and after conversing for a few moments
they asked him very abruptly:
“Mr. Nesmith, you have come from a
very wild country, where you say the
greater portion of your life has been
passed. Will you tell us what first
struck yoq or coniing tq the Senate ?”
!‘Well, gentlemen, when I took ray
seat in this august body, said to be
composed of the brains of our great I
country, I was wlt jj I
st T“"geness oi tne one idea, how I came
to be here.”
“Oh ! Ah ! Ugh ! So ! And then, j
Mr. Nesmith, what then—wbatwaf your ,
next cause for wonder ?”
“The next thing, gentlemen,” answer
ed Nesmith, slowly gathering up his
great length, “that came to me and puz
zled me more than the first thought
was, how in the deuce all you other fel
lows got here}”
There was a shout, and from that day
these solemn old fellows, who had !
thought to overawe by their pomposity
tho crude voting Senator, were his
sworn friends, and never neglected an
occasion to tell this story.— Washington
Correspondence of the Cincinnati Com- ;
mercial. m
A Wisconsin widow, a frail, tender
flower who was under the doctor’s care,
stole a’ bag of wheat ami carried it half
a mile. As the aged Weller remarked,
you can’t trust “widders,” i
ROME BOND*.
Letter from Judge A. R. Wright.
Rome, Ga., May 30, 1874.
To the Editors of the Chronicle and
Sentinel :
Dear Sirs— Tours of the date of
the 27th instant just received. Our
city has received no benefit from
the half million bonds issued. The
railroad bonds would not yield us
to-day, if the roads were sold,
one hundred dollars. The water works
don’t pay expenses, and are said to be
decaying. The truth is, we have been
afflicted, and are now, with a “ring”
here that has played the devil with the
property holders and the city. Some of
our best men have fought it all the way
through, but, as in other cities, to no
purpose. If we could get a constitu
tional convention and have prohibitory
clauses against future debts, by either the
State or city corporations, the property
holders of Rome would pay the bond
holders what they gave for their bouds
in twenty days—so the city would be
saved, and no body would be hurt.
After losingall the endorsed bonds of the
State ($200,000 worth or more, I believe
it is), our Democratic Governor has just
endorsed 837,000 more State bonds to
our one-horse railroad. I presume it
has been divided out by this time, and
so understand. The balance of the ex
penditure has been almost wholly out of
city bonds, and at little over half their
nominal value. Any body who opposes
these “jobs” is marked as an enemy of
the city, and to hear the ring talk, one
would think ancient Rome would be re
vived in all her splendor. The last
Legislature, after defeating the call for
a convention upon the ground there was
no necessity for it, because no further
expenditure would be made, quietly
proceeded to appropriate $600,000 more
to a single road. I charge Atlanta with
the defeat of the convention, because
she was afraid she would lose the capi
tal. I have been in favor of her as such,
but I pledge myself to stump my end of
the State for a change if she persists in
a course so utterly prostrating to the
interests of the people. Excuse me for
tl is digression. I know not when to
stop when this subject comes up. The
water works bonds were, by law, to be
sold at not less than 90 cents on the
dollar. We supposed we had defeated
the bill when we put this clause in
it. To obviate the difficulty our
“managing fellows” contracted to have
the work done and to be paid for
in bonds at 90 cents. We had had a bid
to build fifty per cent, cheaper for cash
from another party. Five thousand
dollars of the bonds were issued with
out any law at all. Another batch
of a large amount which were to have
been used in building the road to Cedar
Town were loaned, it is said, to Colum
bus men to build that end of the road
—doubtful what went with them. And
this we call government!
Men must learn not to take these
bonds without scrutinizing inquiry. As
we are now situated, we know of no re
dress lmt to refuse to pay. Were the
property holders to pay so as to make
our bonds saleable, our ring still holds
power, and we should have anew batch
to “develop the resources.” Give us a
constitutional prohibitory clause to any
further debt, and I think I cpn pledge
my city to let no man lose a dollar.
While I have not written for the public,
if what I have written will benefit the
State and her heavy-burdened, toiling
masses, let the people have it; not other
wise. I have been stoned with mud and
pelted with filt|i till I can’t be damaged.
Very truly,
Augustus R. Wright.
ROME CITY BONDS.
To the Editors of the Chronicle and
Sentinel :
Your article in Friday’s issue does
the corporate authorities and the people
of Rome injustice. The Mayor and
Council have not sought nor will they
seek to repudiate a single bond issued
by the city, nor are the tax payers as a
class favoring any such effort. A few
tax payers permitted the use of their
names as complainants in the bill be
cause they were assured that some of
the bonds were fraudulently issued, and
they desired an investigation. Neither
our City Council nor our people favor
repudiation or avoidance of their lia
bility, nor do they expect any such re
sult from the legal proceedings insti
tuted to test the legality of the bonds.
JPermit us further to remark that from
'ate efforts made by your capitalists to
rurchase these bonds in this city at
panic prices, we do not think the alarm
h a serious one, and we hope Augusta
lolders will keep quiet and serene.
Yours, in the bonds, &c.,
Roman Citizen.
THE ROME BONDS.
A Case in Point.
% the Editors of the Chronicle and
Sentinel :
I enclose you the following extract
fnm the Chicago Tribune, 20th ult.,
wiich will be interesting to the holders
oibonds of the city of Rome, Georgia.
Bondholder.
Another Defeat of Refudiators.—
Itwill be remembered that the Supreme
Cmrt of this State, at its last session
hid at Ottawa, decided that the issue
ofbonds, amountiug in the aggregate to
u[wards of SIOO,OOO, executed by va
rious towns and cities in payment of
sAck in the Ottawa, Oswego and Fox
River Valley Railroad Company, was
iirahd upon the ground that the law
nxler which the bonds were issued had
n<yer passed the Legislature in the
Dinner prescribed by the Constitution
of this State. According to that de
cision a municipality, when sued upon
iti bonds, is permitted to go behind the
piblic statutes, and, notwithstanding
aiact of the Legislature is found in the
olee of the Secretary of State, duly en
rqled and signed by the Speakers of
bth Houses, approved and signed by
tb Governor, anil incorporated among
tb published laws of the State, defeat
a ecovery by showing that the Legisla
te failed to observe some constitu
timal requirement in relation to the
mnner of conducting its business dur
irg the passa,e of the bill. The effect
ojtliis decision naturally enough was to
elate wide-spread consternation among
Eistern holders of Illinois municipal
bads. The First National Bank of
Wnchendon, Mass., holding some of
tb bonds issued by the town of Aurora
in payment of stock in the Ottawa,
Onvego and Fox River Valley Railroad
Cmpany, brought an action in the Cir
ciit Court of the United States for the
Nrthern District of Illinois, and the
deense interposed was that the journals
of,he Senate failed to show that the act
urier which the bonds were issued had
pffseil a third reading by ayes and noes,
aq-equired by the Constitution, and so
lid never become a law. The case was
trjd before Judge Blodgett, without a
jug, in February last. Judge Blodgett
anounced his opinion Monday in favor
oftlie validity of the bonds, holding
tlii where a municipality has gone ou
an acted under a statute which has
bep duly published by legislative au
thfity among the printed laws of the
St|e, and has treated it as a valid law
by he issuing of bonds which have sub- j
se(iently come into the hands of inno- j
ceis purchasers for value, the munici- j
paty is estopped from asserting that j
tli(law had not been duly passed. This j
option is the more important inasmuch I
ast is understood that there are several
ot-r statutes authorizing (he issue of 1
beds which are open to attack if such
ahe of defense should be permitted.
It s a direct issue with the Supreme
Cqrt of the State. The final adjudica
tic of this question by the Supreme
Cert of the United States, where it will
pnably be carried, will be looked for
wii considerable interest.
municipal bonds,
T<khc Editors of the Chronicle and
i ntincl;
Jhave read your very able and inter
estg articles on “ Rome Bonds ” with
but do not now write to enter
upji any discussion of the controvert
edbgality of those securities. That is
a (lestion for the Courts, and will no
dobt be decided in favor of the validi
ty] the bonds, whether they were law
ful! issued or not. In the case of Al
leaf al., vs. Tison et als., decided in
thaupreme Court of Georgia, Decem
beij, 187 ft, Judge McQay, in concurring
wit! his associates on the bench that,
cer in bonds in contest in that ease i
we: valid, said, ‘‘As the bonds author- j
i?e by this act have, as appears, been
iss: and and negotiated, and much of the i
mo >y raised already expended, the in
jur was properly refused, w father j
the ict was unconstitutional or not " i
Up i this principle the Rome bonds,
ev« if illegally and unconstitutionally j
iss and, are valid and must be met.
1 ssing this by, however, it strikes j
mt and I would be glad to have your
vi« i upon tbe subject—that the inhabi
tai of a city can only be justly called
np to pay bonds issued by their mu- ;
ni< al authorities when those bonds ;
ha been issued for some public pnr
po some purpose which is really
pn ic and not one that is simply styled
su. For instance, when half Boston
wa burned down, the Legislature of
Ml achnsetts authorized tho municipal
an Drities of that city to issue 820,-
00< (X) in bonds and loan them
to be sufferers by the coiiflagra
tio to enable them to rebuild their
stc sand houses. The Supreme Court
of assachusetts decided that this act
wa moonstitutional and the bonds void,
on e ground that one man cannot be
lav illy taxed to rebuild another man’s
ho 3, “ The preservation of the in-
terests of individuals,” said the Court,
‘ ‘either in respect of property or business,
although it may result incidentally in
the public welfare, is, in its essential
character, a private and not a public ob
ject.” In another case the Legislature
of Maine authorized the corporate au
thorities of a town in that State to lend
certain individuals SIO,OOO to enable
them to build a saw and grist mill, and
in 1871 the Supreme Court of the State
decided this act also unconstitu
tional on the ground that one
man could not be lawfully taxed
to set another man' up in the saw
mill business. In still another case, oc
curring last year iu Kansas, the Legisla
ture authorized the municipal authori
ties of a city in that State “to appro
priate $50,000 to aid private persons in
the erection and equipment of buildings,
at or near the city, to be used for manu
facturing purposes,” and the United
States Court decided this act un
constitutional and the bonds issued to
raise the $50,000 void, on the grouud
that one man could not be lawfully taxed
to set another man up in the business of
manufacturing. The rule established in
these cases seems just, and you would,
no doubt, interest many readers, Messrs.
Editors, if you would give your views
upon it.
CRAWFORDVILLE.
Sunday School CelebVation and Pic-
Nic.
Crawfordville, Ga., June 2, 1874.
To the Editors of {he Chronicle and
Sentinel :
Permit me the use of your columns to
give a brief account of an interesting
Sunday School celebration and pic-nic,
which came off here on Thursday, May
28th, uuder the auspices and manage
ment of the Crawford ville Sunday School.
extended to some twen
ty schools, above and below us, ou the
railroad, but owing to lack of transpor
tation only nine were iu attendance from
a distance. The visiting schools were,
White Plains, Union Point, Greenes
boro, Penfield, Stonewall (Woodville),
Bairdstown, Antioch, Craw ford and Lex
ington. All these, except White Plains,
came down on an extra train, consisting
of an engine and sixteen cars, and each
car was estimated to contain about one
hundred people, thus bringing in one
crowd some fifteen or sixteen hundred
persons, of both sexes, and every age
and condition of life—all bent upon a
day of innocent pleasure and recrea
tion. Before the arrival of this train
there were present already twelve or
fifteen hundred people from the village
and surrounding country, aud the ques
tion of accommodation in the way of
water, shade, &e., for so large a crowd,
it was feared for a while, might be per
plexing, but, thanks to the Committee
of Arrangements, no trouble whatever
was experienced. Mr. Stephens, with
his usual courtesy and liberality, kindly
tendered theuseof his spacious grounds,
and the managers had erected under the
spreading oaks a large plat orm to be
used as a stage, which the ladies deco
rated with beautiful arches of ever
greeu, on the front side of which, in
large raised letters, w r as the cheerful
welcome : “Happy Greeting to All.”
Mr. W. F. Holden and Mr. B. M.
Lanneau were appointed Marshals of
the Day, and they were kindly assisted
by Mr. W. N. Merci r, Mr. Q. Richards,
and Mr. M. D. L. Gooyer. To the very
happy and efficient manner in which
these gentlemen discharged their deli
cate duties we owe a debt of
thanks for the remarkable good order
which was observed throughout the day.
At nine o’clock the Crawfordville school
marched to the depot to receive their
guests, and soon the train came in sight
bearing its precious load of freight. The
Marshals then formed all the different
schools into a procession and marched
to the grounds of Liberty Hall, when
the exercises immediately commenced,
opening with prayer by Rev. L. R. L.
Jennings. The Crawfordville school
took its stand upon the stage aud sang a
most cheerful song of welcome, which
was answered by a song of response
from the Penfield school, melodious aud
beautiful and riveting the attention of
every listener. Mr. Clarence Stephens
then delivered a chaste aud elegant ad
dress of welcome to the schools and
visitors, which was succeeded by the
general exercises of the day. These con
sisted of two or three songs by each
school, interspersed with occasional
speeches, which served to give a
pleasing variety to the entertainment.
At the close of the singing the vast
crowd repaired to the table and partook
of ample refreshments. At two o’clock
the schools were assembled aud formed
into a semi-circle arouud Mr. Stephens’
portico for the purpose of listening to
an address from this great and good
man. The speaker was very feeble, and
unable to speak as long as his hearers
would have been glad to listen, but the
speech, though short, was full of wis
dom aud good advicreptml afforded great
pleasure to his large and appreciative
audience. At his request the schools
were then all marched past him, to bid
hirn good-bye, and receive his parting
blessing, and such a handshaking whs
never witnessed in Crawfordville before.
The scene was very touching, and one
long to be remembered. This ceremo
nial was succeeded by a number of beau
tiful pieces, played respectively by the
Liberty Hall and Greensboro brass bands.
These bands afforded pleasant enter
tainment to the largo assemblage until
the hour arrived for our guests to bid
us adieu. At about five o’clock the
train which bore them away‘slowly pull
ed out from the depot, bearing
our heartiest good wishes for the wel
fare and happiness of every soul aboard.
As they raised a defeaning cheer, we
were reminded of the great train loads
of soldiers which passed on every rail
road so often during the war, anil that
this great army of Sunday School chil
dren had no weapons but the word of
God, and no mission but “peace and
(food will ” to all mankind. C. E. S.
NF,ABLY ALL DISEASES originate from IN
DIGESTION and TOBPIDITY of tho LIVED,
and BELIEF is always anxiously sought after.
If the LIVER IS REGULATED in its action,
health is almost invariably secured. Want of
action in the Liver causes HEADACHE, CON
STIPATION. JAUNDICE. PAIN IN THE
SHOULDERS. COU.GII, CHILLS, DIZZINESS.
SOUP. STOMACH, BAD TAB IE IN THE
MOUTH, BILIOUS ATTACKS. PALPITATION
OF THE HEART, DEPRESSION OF SPIRITS,
OB THE BLUES, and a hundred other symp
toms. for which SIMMONS' LIVEIt REGULA
TOR is the best remedy that lias EVER been
DISCOVERED. It acts MILDLY, effectually,
and being a simple VEGETABLE compound,
can do no injury in any quantities that it may
betaken. Il is HARMLESS in every way; it
has been used for 41 YEARS, and hundreds of
the goo«i and GREAT from all parts of the
country will vouch for itu being the PUREST
AND BEST.
Simmons’ Liver Regular, or Mediciuc,
Is harmless, in no drastic violent medicine, is
sure to cure if taken regularly, is no intoxicat
ing beverage, is a faultless family medicine,
is the cheapest medicine in tho world, is given
with safety and the happiest results to the
most delicate infant, does not interfere with
business, does not disarrange the system, lakes
the place of Quinine and Bitters of every kind,
contains the simplest and best remedies.
For sale by ali Druggists.
jan2omy!6—tutlisaAwly
GREENE’S
loXVGEMTBD BITTERS.
I THE stomach is one of the most delicate or
gans of the human av.-tern ; and the indigesti
ble food crowded into it by the requirements of
modern society keep it in
A STATE OP CHRONIC DISORDER,
Which is foUilwet by a resort to tonios and al
teratives for ielyf. It unfortunately happens,
however, thal ropy of the medicines used for
this purposeli r|tain alcohol, which, poured
into a diseasedftomacli. produces irritation,
creates inflamVA, and does more injury that*
OxygenateEjljjtiers Contain Xo AN
fpr eoiiol,
But are a purely medicinal preparation, which,
in cases of Dyspepsia, Heartburn, Indigestion,
and other like disorders, at once restores the
stomach to its
NATURAL CONDITION OF HEA LTH.
The OXYGENATED BITTERS have been the
most popular for the above complaints
for tbe last thiutv ykabs, and still maintain
their uxbiv alled popularity.
Prioe, %1 per bottle. Sold everywhere.
JOHN F. HENRY, CURRAN A CO.,
Proprietors,
8 and 9 College Place, New York.
jnn3—lm
TO SAVE ONE DOLLAR '
PARENTS SHOULD BUY
Silver Tipped Shoes
febll-w6m *
(JbrrQ EACH WEEK. Agents wanted. Par
I £ ticulara free. J. Worth <fc Cos., Bt
Lomia, Mo. ap29-w3xa
GREAT BARGAINS
HUCtION OF PiUCES FOE HUE FOEEITOEE!
AT
#
PLATT BROTHERS’.
3? OR THE NEXT THREE MONTHS we propose to sell our ENTIRE STOCK
OF FINE FURNITURE FOR CASH, such us PARLOR, CHAMBER AND
DINING ROOM SUITS, at FACTORY PRICES. OUR STOCK IS LARGE
AND MUST BE SOLD.
All who are in want of FINE FURNITURE, now is the time to purchase. If
purchasers are not prepared to move if away it can stand iu our warerooms, sub
ject to their order until the Fall months.
fall Soon and Make your while the Stock Is Full.
PLATT BROTHERS.
my3-dtfcw-lm
Iff BOOT, SHOE AND HAT STORK
No. 182 Broad Street, Opposite Augusta Hotel.
HAVING associated oursolv.es iu the BOOT, SHOE and HAT BUSINESS, under the name and
stylo of
Timmerman & Wise,
We intend keeping evorvthhig in our line of the very best manufacture, of all kinds of goods
suitable fftr GENTLEMEN'S. LADIES'. MISSES’, a;id CHILDREN'S WEAK, and wo hope by
strict attention to business to share a liberal portion of patronage both from our city and country
friends—and ilie country generally.
\\\ T. TIMMERMAN, " .TWIN A. WISE,
Os the lute firm Hora. Wise & Cos. Os Edgefield county, S. C.
niyl2-tuthftsa.fr wlnt
IV ew
djJJSfI-7 PA tI.'KATS' PROFITS per week.
{JpO i .v) v/ Will prove it or forfeit SSOO. New
articles just patented. Samples sent free to all. Ad
dress, \V. H. < lIIIDESTKit,
ju2-4w 207 Broadway, New York.
3 WOLTEiCHERS WANTED^
for the Spring and Summer. #l5O per month
Send for circular, which gives full particulars.
ZIEGLEH & McCUKDY.
ju2-4w Philadelphia, I\°..
<y DON’T! DON’ ! ! DON'T!!! «
;Don’twhat?"::.;;;\;:; M ri
Z FROM THAT TRAVELING AGENT, J?
laSHSflll! VICTOR!
rtllest £ewing Machine In the World
6 Whol- sale Price, by sending to
wllev. (’. H. Bkrnhi'im,Gen’l Ag’t. (\meord, N. O.p.
«/»Send stamp for Oienlars and Price List ju2-l\v p
SONUS of GRACE aiul GLORY.
The very best Sunday School Song Book. By W. F.
SHEIiWIN ami S. J. VAIJ.. 100 Pages Splendid
Hymns, Choice Music, Tinted Paper, Supe-ior Bind
ing. Price in Boards, ;isc ; $33 per 100. A Specimen
Copy in Taper Cover mailed (as soon as issued) on
receipt of Twenty-flue cents. CS?-Orders filled in
turn. READY MAY ’st.
HORACE WATERS & SON,
ju2-lw 481 Broadway, New York.
B" A DAY GUARANTEED using our
WELL AUGER & DRILL in good
MB! territory. Endorsed by Governors
of IOWA, ARKANSAS & DAKOTA
Cataloguo frod. W. GILES, St. Louis, Mo.
my 27—4 w
LIVINGSTONE 13 DEAD.
For 30 years millions have intently watched his
perilous yet heroic struggles, and grand achieve
ments, and now eagerly desire the COMPLETE
LIFE HISTORY of this world-renowned Hero aud
Benefactor, which unfold also the curiosities and
wealth of a wild and w nWerfu l eountry. It is ju t
ready. 2,000 agents wanted quickly. One agent sold
184, another 100 one week. For particulars, address
HUBBARD BROS., either Philadelphia, Boston, or
Cincinnati, Ohio. mv27—4w
The Long-Contested Suit of the
FLORENCE SEWING MACHINE CO.,
Against the Singer, Wheeler & Wilson, ami Grover
& Baker Companies, involving over $250,000, is
finally decided by the Supreme Court of the United
States iu favor of the FLORENCE, which alone has
Broken the Monopoly of High Prices.
TUB NEW PLOHKIYCH
Is the only Machine that sews backward ami for
ward, or to right and loft. Simplest—Choapost—
Best. Sold for Cash only. Special terms to Clubs
and Dealers.
April, 1874. Florence, Mass.
my27—4w
. “EDEOGR4PHV.”- Anew book on the arts of Writ
ing i>y oounu ; a complete system ol Pnonoiic Siiort
llaiifl, the shortest, most simple, easy and compre
hensive, enabling any one in a short time to report
trials, speeches sermons. & \ The Lord s Braver is
written with 19 strokes of the pen, and 149 words
per minute. The unemployed should h arn this art.
Pri eby mail, 50 cents. Agents wanted. Address,
T. W. EVANS & CO., 130 S. 7th St., Phil., Pa.
my27—4w
AaEN Z?r TED CENTENNI AL
GAZETTEER uni^V™.
No book has ever boon published of such universal
interest to the American people It appeals to no
particular class alone, hut to all classes ; to men
and women of all professions, creeds, occupations
and political opinions—to Farm rs, Lawyers, Busi
ness Me,n, Mechanics, Physicians, Politicians, Teach
ers, Students, Manufacturers, Salesmen, men of
learning and men who can only road, to old and
young. All want it as a book of constant reference,
ami to presoervo for their children and children’s
children as tho only complete and reliable work,
showing the gigant e r-suits of THE FIRST ONE
HUNDRED YEARS OF THE GREATEST REPUB
LIC THE WORLD EVER SAW. It is not a luxury
but a necessity to every well-inlorined American
citizen. Agents m ike SIOO to S3OO per month. Send
for circular. ZIEGLER & McOURDY, Phil., Pa.
my27—4w
Waters' Court Organs!
Are the most beautiful in stylo and perfect in tone
ever made. The CONCERTO STOP is tho best ever
placed in any Organ. It is produced by an extra sot
of reeds, peculiarly voiced, tho effect of which is
MOST CHARMING and SOUL-STIRRING, While its imi
tation of the Human Voice is Superb. Terms liberal.
Waters’ riiiiliarmonu-, Vesper and
Orchestral Organs,
In Unique French Cases, are among tho best made,
and combine purity of voicing with great volume of
tone. Suitable for Parlor, Church or Music Hall.
WATERS’ NEW SCALE PIANOS have great power
and a fine singing tone, with all modern improve
ments, and are the Best Pianos made. These Organs
and Piauoes arc warranted for 0 yeur\ Prices Ex
tremely Low r for cash or part cash, and balauce in
monthly or quarterly paymenls Second-hand In
struments taken in exchange. Agents wanted in
every county in the United States and Canada. A
liberal discount to Teachers, Ministers, Churches,
Schools, Lodges, &c. Illustrated Catalogues mailed.
HORACE WATERS & SON,
my27—4vv 481 Broadway, New York. Box 3567.
SEND FOIt THE
rvi:\V CATALOGUE
AND PRICE LIST, MAILED FREE.
100-Piccc Frciicli China Dinner Set
FOR 5622.
FRENCH CHINA AND STONE WARE GIVEN
AWAY (almost). Tea, TANARUS» ilet Sets and everything
else same way. Call or send for Catalogues.
WAS 1 11XGTON iIA 1)1, EY’S,
my27*4w <;th Ave.and 12th st,, n. y.
fe23lllSg
Dr. Sharp’s Specific cures DjTjiepßla, Liver Com
plaint, Const pation, Vomiting of Food, Sour Stom
ach, Water Bru»h, Heartburn, Low Spirits, &c. In
thirty-five years never failing t > cure the most ob
stinate ctytes. Sold by GItEENE k HOSSIGNOL, Au
gusta, Ga., and Druggists generally. Depot 145
Eighth st., N. V. ('ire. iil;u\h mailed on ujij.li -atioi.
u pSVCIIO>IAIVCV or NOITL €'II \RM
X How either sex may fascinate and wain the
love and affections of any person they choose in
st tntly. This simple mental acquirement all can
possess, free, by mail, for 2;>c., together with a mar
riage guide, Kgyptian Oracle, breams, Hints to La
dies, Wedding Night Shirt, Ac. A queer hook. Ad
dress T. WII LTAM ,v CO., Pub*., H]il,irle!]»lija. -1 w
For
COUGHS, COLDS, HOARSENESS,
AX'D ALL THROAT DISEASES,
fjHO
WELLS’ CARBOLIC TABLETS,
PUT UP ONLY IN BLUE BOXES.
A TRIED AND SUREREMEDY.
Sold by Druggists. 4w
The Highest Medical Authorities of Kurope
say the strongest Tonic, Purifier and Deobstruent
known to the* medical world is
JURUBEBA.
Tt arrests decay of vital forces, exhaustion of the nrr- ;
vows system, restores vigor to tbe debilitated, cleanses
vitiated blood, removes vesicle obstructions, and i
actß directly on the Liver ond fipleen. Price, $1
b<ttk. -JOHN Q. KELLOGG, Ik PUtt Bt., N. V
JAMES LEF FEE'S
IMPROVED DOUBLE
Turbine Water Wheel.
POOLE & HUNT, Baltimore,
Manufacturers for the South and South
west.
Nearly 7,000 now in use. working under heads
varying from 2 feet I 21 sizes,
from 5f to 96 inches.
The most powerful Wheel in the Market,
And most economical in use of water.
Large ILLUSTRATED Pamphlet sentpost free.
MANUFACTURERS, ALSO, OF
Portable and Stationary Steam Engines and
Boilers, Babcock * Wilcox Patent Tubulous
Boilers. Ebaugb s Crusher for Minerals, Saw
and Grist Mills. Flouring Mill Machinery, Ma
chinery for White Lead Works and Oil Mills,
Shafting Pnllevs and Hangers.
SEND FOR CIRCULARS.
feb2s-wtm
ETOWAH FARM
FOR SALE!
THOU tho purpose of disribnHon, THAT
I. FINE FARM, formerly owned bv Colonel
.Tamos C. Spr uill, lying on tho. ETOWAH
HIVF.It. FIVE MILES FROM C.VRTERSVILI.E,
is offered for sale. Addn ns,
U T. FOUCHF.,
ap2B-dftw3m Home, Ga.
CST'D. 7858.
fIOOLEYV
iJiESW N D fiR D Bft KINGPOVVDER*
1$ THEBEsTAND CHEAPEST
‘PREPARATION EVER
OFFERED FOR MAKING
L —BREAD,—
DOOLEY'S YEAST DOW DEE
Is pnrfoetly Him. and Wholesome,
DOOLEYS YEAST DOWD Eli
Is put np in Full Weight Cans.
DOOLEYS YEAST POWDER
Makes Elegant Biscuits and Bolls.
DOOLEY’S YEAST PO WDER
Makes Delicious Muffins, Griddlo Cakes, Com
Bread, Ao.
DOOLEY’S YEAST PO WEEK
Makes all kinds of Dumplings, Pot Dies, Cakes
and Pastry, nice, light and healthy.
DOOLEYS YEAST POWDER
DOOLEY'S YEAST POWDER
DOOLEYS YEAST POWDER
Is guaranteed to give satisfaction.
Bo sure lo ask for
DOOLFA'S YEAST POWDER
and do not he put off with any other kind*
DQOLEYS YEAST POWDER
Is put up in Tin Cans of various sizes, suitable
lor Families, Boarding Houses, Hotels,
Itoslaurants and ltivor. Lake and
Ocean Vessels on short or
long voyages.
’J ho Market is flooded with Cheap, Inferior
Baking and Yeast Powder of light or short
weigh. DOOLEY’S YEAST POWDER is war
ranted full strength and full Weight.
Hold at wholesale and retail, generally
throughout tho United States, by dealers iii
Groceries and Family Supplies.
Dooley&Brother
UFAOTUR Efts
P#yV£W ST. NEIN YORK,
apl-d.twlv
Tbe Oldest Furniture House in‘lie Slate,
PUTT BROTHERS,
212 & 211 niIOAD STREET,
AUGUSTA, GkA.,
Keep always or and the latest atjlea
of •
FU R X 1 TUBE
Os every variety manufactured, from the
lowest to the highest grades.
Ohiinibcr, Parlor, Diamg-Rooni,
AND
Library (’oiiijdcto Soils, or Sljirlc
Tieccs,
At prices which cannot fail to sii' f the
purchaser.
IJ N E n T AKIiYG
In all its branches. METALTC CASES
and CASKETS, of various styles aud
make. Imported Wood Caskets and
Cases, of every design and finish.
COFFINS and CASKETS, of our own
make, in Mahogany, Rosewood and Wal
nut. An accomplished Undertaker will
bo in attendance at all hours, dav aud
night. PLATT BROTHERS,
212 anil 214 Broad St,, Augusta, Ga.
oet,2s—janl4—d+A wlv
KING’S CURE
FOR
Chicken Cholera!
L THE ONLY SPECIFIC YET DISCOV
ERED FOR THE DISEASE.
It has beon used for two years as preventive
and euro with almost COMPLETE success.
For salo by Merchants and Druggists gen
erally. Prepared by
Dn. WM. ICING,
ap7-dl.frwGm Athens, Ga.
SEWING MACHINES - FOR AEE !
800 p,;r Cfiit. Waved T
Kqunl to -A-ny in Use,
Durability Unquestionable.
HOME SHUTTLE,
A FIRST CLASS, Genuine Underfeed SFitrt
/A tie Machine, established twenty-threo
years. Makes tho celebrated Elastic Lock
Stitch alike on both sidt s precisely tbe samo
as the Singer. Wheeler* Wilson and others, at
three times its cost, and does every variety of
work known to any Machine in the world, or
no sale.
Prices, $25, $37, 942 and $75. Fully war
ranted for five years. Sent to any address on
receipt of price, or by Express, C. O. D. Refer,
by permission, to Mrs. Ur. L. D. Ford,Augusta,
Ga.; Mrs. Ur. Wm. Pettigrew, Langley, S. C.
N. B.—Agents, with small capital, wanted in
twenty two counties, lying between Chatham
and Habersham, to whom exclusive right of
sale will he given. Send for illustrated circu
lar and samples of work. Address
A. B. CLARKE, Gen’l Agent,
apß-wtf 148 ltroad at.. Augusta. Ga.
couons, soke
Til BOAT,INFLU
ENZA, WHOOP
ING COUGH,
Croup, Bronchit
is, Asthma, anil
every affection of
tho THROAT, LUKGii
and curst, am
speedily and per
manently cured by
tho use of Dr. Wis*
tar’s Balsam op
Wild <Jhurry.
which does not dry up a cough and have the causa
behind, but loosens it, cleanses the lungs and allay*
Irritation, thus removing the causo of tho complaint.
CONSUMPTION CAN BE CURED
by a timely resort to this standard remedy, as Is
proved by hundreds of testimonials it bus received.
The genuine is algnod “/. BatU" on tho wrapper,
SETIt W. FOWLE * SONS, Paoruncross, Bo*
TO*, Mass, BoU by dealers generally.
JUDGE FOR YOURSELVES.
Examine If, Try it and Buy the