Newspaper Page Text
She WtiflIttSBilU Recorter
VOL. I.
JOBS C. VAN SYOSEL & CO.,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
CROCKERY,
GLASSWARE,
House Furnishing Goods
Tin-3?late,
Stoves,
Hardware,
&c.. <feo.
MANTFACrUBBES OF
TINWARE.
No. I 16 Third Street,
MACON, GA.
HOWTO SAVE MONEY
BUT TOUR GOODS
FROM
J. M. WOOD,
Wr ightsville, Ga.
deals in DRY GOODS and GRO
SERIES, and will sell as low as the lowest,
3alicues, Homespuns, D- illin^a. Jeans, Boots
ind Shoes of all kinds.
Bacon, Flour, Coffee, Rice, etc., always on
taud. Also a nice selection of
Millinery Goods,
juob as Ladies’ Hats, Ribbons and Flowers ol
ill descriptions, and various other things too
lnmeioua to mention. Call and soe lor you. -
wit.
CARHART & CURD,
DEALERS »
Hardware, Iron & Steel j
WOODENWARE,
Carriage Material,
Cotton Gins,
Circular Saws,
SCALES,
'I
PAINTS, OILS, &c.
Macon, Ga.
R. J. DAVANT. 3. 8. WeOD, JK
DAVANT & WOOD,
114 Bay Street,
Savannah, Georgia.
Special attention given to sale oi
COTTDI.RICE & MATJUL STORES
AGENTS FOB
DRAKE’S COTTON TIES.
Cash advances made on consignments.
SID. A. PUGHSLEY, Jr.
AGENT AND SALESMAN,
—WITH—
I. L. FALK & CO.,
CLOTHIERS,
425 and 427 Broome St„ New York,
Cor. Congress and Whittaker Streets,
SAVANNAH, GA.
WRIGHTSVILLE. GA * ** SATURDAY, DECEMBER 11. 1880.
DRUG STORE.
J. W. BRINSON & CO.,
Wrightsville, Ceorgia,
Hare on hand a complete .took of Drug!
and all other articles usually kept in a
First-Class
Drug Store,
Which they are gelling at prices to suit th«
times, and are prepared to fill all orders anc
prescriptions ou the shortest possible notice.
Dr. J. W. BRINSON continues to prac
tice his proiession in its various brancoa.
Office at the Drug Store.
W. B. MELL & CO.,
Wholesale and retail dealers in
SOULES. MLES, BERNESS,
Rubber and Leather
BELTING AND PACKING,
Fronch and American Call Skins, Solo, Har.
ness, Bridle and Patent I.eathor,
WHIPS and SADDLERY WARE,
TRUNKS, VALISES,
market Square, Savannah, Ga.
Orders by mail promptly attended to.
A. M. MATHIS,
Tennille, Ga.,
Horse-Shoeing a Specialty.
All work intrusted to my care will receive
prompt satisfaction attention. Charges reasonable and
guaranteed in every instance.
SMITH’S HOTEL,
W. J. M. SMITH, Agent.
Wrightsville, Georgia.
Having lately undergone thorough repairs,
this Hotel is prepared to accommodate the
public with the finest the market affords. Tin
highest market prices paid for country produce.
Miss Anna R, McWhorter,
Wrightsville, Ga.,
Keeps on hand a nice selection oi
SLC1I AS
LADIE-5’ HATS, RIBBONS,
FLOWERS and TRIMMINGS.
In endless variety; also a nice assortment ot
latest patterns, etc., all lor sale as e.heup ft
the cheapest. I am also prepared to cut, fit
and make dresses at short notice. Call on mt
beloro purchasing elsewhere.
z. SMITH,
Six miles from Tennille, on Wrightsville Road
Is now prepared to make and repair
Wagons, Carts, Plows, Etc,
I keep constant ly on hand a large stook of
Plows and Chairs, which I am selling at
reasonable rate*.
J. T. & B. J. DENT,
Eight miles west of Wrightsville, Ga.
Keep constantly on hi nd a fine assortment
ol Pure
Liquors, Brandies, Wines, Ales, Lager.
Etc., etc.; also Tobacco, Cigars, Candies,
Pickles, Oysters, Sardines, and a
full line oi lamily
GROCERIES!
All ol which we will sell at inside figures
Give us a trial. Respectfully,
J. T. & B. J. DENT.
A. J. BRADDY & SON
Wrightsville, Ga.
BLACKSMITH SHOP.
Buggies, A specialty of Plantation repaired. Work. Wagons,
etc., made and
Plows and Plow-Stocks of all kinds, and
every kind of Wood and IronWork done by
A. J. BRADDY & SON,
Wrightsville, Ga.
John A, Shivers & Son,
Tennille, Ga.,
Are now prepared to build, repair and
overhaul
Carriages, Buggies,Wagons, &c.
We also make a specialty ot One
Sorts Wagons.
Dead Leaves.
A week ago—how beoutiful!
To-day—how sere they Ha I
glory of the forest fled—
Llko splendor from the sky.
I trample on the falling loaves
That yesterday, Uke gems,
Flashed brightness ou my wondering ejrea.
From countless diadems.
"’bey answer my heedless feet I
With crispness in their tone:
“ Tread lightly for the beauty's sake
Thine eyes in us have known;
We were hut shadows when we glowed
In crimson, of thy pride;
We etUl are shadows of its fall,
And just before It glide I”
I would the withered leaves were fait,
That I might shun to tread
Tlieir dying verdure in the duat
With which iny hopes fall dead;
For when, in crimson and In gold,
My ripened joys shall flume,
The brief, bright beauty of the leevea
Is theirs—to sere tire same 1
PRESENCE OP MIND
I have always been celebrated for my
presence of mind iu emergencies.
Grandfather used to say that he never
had a girl who was not afraid of a mouse
or a spider, and how mother’s daughter
ever came to be so bravo he couldn’t
guess. That was before I married, and,
of course, I have not become timid with
advancing years.
I am Mrs. Jasper Jackman ; my hus¬
band is, of course, Mr. Jackman, and
our place is known as Jackman’s Nook.
Nook, indeed ! If there was a corner to
the world, I should fancy it was put
away in that, for it is the most out-of
the-way habitation that ever existed.
It is, indeed. You can’t seo it until you
are within fifty feet of it, for the trees
and the nasty rocks.
Now, you know I’m not the least bit
nervous, but, having lived with father
and mother and the rest all my life, I
did not enjoy being shut up all alone
like a—a—a—well, a hyena in a menag¬
erie, wliile Mr. Jackman attended to busi¬
ness in town; and I often thought if
house-breakers were to make an attack
upon the house, what should I do, a
poor little woman, with no one to call
upon ? For I count Bridget as a great
cipher in every occasion of life that does
not involve soap-suds.
I told Jasper that absolutely, if I had
known what a place Jackman’s Nook was,
I was not sure but that I should have
thought twice before refusing old Dr.
Muligitawny, whose palatial residence is
on Fifth avenue, New York city, as, of
course, everybody knows.
However, after you have onco said
“ yes” to the gentleman who “ pops” the
question to you, you may say-“ no” ever
after to all other questions, for all ho
cares, for he’ll have his own way al¬
ways.
Mother-in-law Jackman having made
Jasper promise that I must live always
at the Nook was considered unanswera¬
ble ; and, after all, what could wo do ?
No one would lfiro or buy the place, and
we had it on our hands. Of course we
lived there. I always knew that doing
so would be the cause of my showing the
presence of mind for which I am cele
brated in my own family—if nowhere
else. And so it came to pass.
One stormy night in November, in the
year 1863—it was the 4th, I think, for
baby was just 1 year old on the 1st, and
there was some of the cake I had made
for his “ bressed ittle birfity birfday ”
still left in the pantry, and a cake of
that size certainly never would last
longer than that in our house. It was
he most unpleasant day I ever remem¬
ber to have lived through. The ground
was soaked. The bare branches looked
like so many skeletons, and the sky was
the color Bridget’s tin pans were when I
first got down stairs this time last year.
In the city it would have been some
fun to sit in the window and watch the
folks go psst, looking like so many
drowned rats, but at tho Nook (I should
think it was a nook) there was nothing
to be seen—absolutely nothing.
I had not a book which I had not
read, and the note-paper was out, for
Jasper had forgotten to bring me some
from the oity, and I had finished all my
sewing.
spent my time as best I could; but
how I did wish that the regiment which
was encamped about half a mile away
was near enough for me to watch them
drill- -if they do drill in such weather.
I’d thought them too near before on ac¬
count of Bridget, whom I have caught a
score of times talking to men in blue
jackets at the gate, and wished them ofl
to the seat of war, or anywhere else,’
over and over again ; but that afternoon
what a relief they would have been !
I was the more lonely that Jasper had
said that morning, “ My dear, if it rains
as it does now to-night, I sha’n’t come
home, but will stop at your father’s. ”
And how oould I blame him in such
weather? Yet it was dreadfully lone-
some. If you are sociable with your
servants they always presume upon it,
and I do so love to talk.
Of course I watched the clouds with
interest. If it should prove fair at last,
Jasper would come home, and if it
rained he wouldn’t
Every now and then there would be a
pretense of clearing off, and I began to
hope for « pleasant sunset; but it wm
always a false pretense, and at tea-time
it poured as though there were going to
be a second flood.
Biddy asked me, as it was so near the
Hudson, whether it wasn’t likely to be
a-risin’.and whether in that case “we
wouldn’t be drowned?” And I said
“Yes." It was too bad, I know, but it
was really some amusement on suck a
day to frighten the stupid girl.
I had my tea alone—and I do hate to
have tea alone if any woman in the world
hates it—and then I put baby to sleep
in her cradle in the sitting-room, and
took my knitting, and was as comforta¬
ble os I could be under the circum¬
stances, when 1 bethought me of the
morning’s paper. .1 called Biddy to
bring it to me, and sho came to me at
once.
“It’s well thought of, missus,” she
said, as sho laid it in my lap. “It’s
yerself will bo intherested wid the raid¬
in'. There’s accounts of the house
breakin’ in it.”
“ Of what?" I ejaculated ; and, though
I assure you I’m not the least nervous,
my heart was in my mouth for a mo¬
ment.
“Of the house-breakin’, mum, and
how the thaves in the wurreld got into
Misther Dinsmoro’s house, that’s sitiated
the same as this, neighboring nobody,
and tuck all they could lay their hands
on, to say nothin’ of half murderin’ the
onld gentleman. The saints be above
us this night—”
There it was, sure enough, headed,
“A bold and outrageous attack upon
the rcsidenco of Mr. Dinsmore! ” I
read it through, and then I said to my¬
self :
“Jemsha Jackman, remember your
presence of mind. Don’t lot it fail yon
fn cases of emergency. ,Should a nonse
breaker’toke advantage of your solitude,
let him find you prepared.” It wus as
though some invisible what’s-liis-name
had addressed me from the chimney. I
answered, “I will!’’ and you can’t im¬
agine how bold I grew at once. I re¬
hearsed all that I should do in case
Biddy came to me in the night, saying,
“ Missus, there’s some one in the cellar !”
all I should do if I found anybody in
the wardrobe when I retired, and I had
the satisfaction of feeling that I was
prepared. I might wake up to find the
spoons gone—I might bo murdered in
my bed; but it would be unawares, and
the words, “ She showed her presence
'of mind to the last.” I felt quite self
possessed and happy, though I was cer¬
tain—yes, morally certain -that some¬
thing remarkable would happen before
morning; that I should be, as it wore,
weighed iu the balance and not found
wanting before the sun arose. I did not
feel like retiring early, and sat by tho
fire till the clock struck 11. Then, ju’tft
as the last stroke died away, Biddy came
down from her bedroom like a red-flan¬
nel ghost, with eyes and mouth wide
open, and something of importance evi¬
dently on her mind. I put baby down
in her cradle and arose, drawing myself
up to my full height, mid feeling that I
was the only one to be depended upon
in this awful emergency.
“Bridget,” said I, “how many are
they ? Is it one or more ?”
“Mum ?” said Bridget.
“ The thieves. I mean.” said I.
“Oh, it isn’t thaves, mum,” said
Biddy. “ It’s only that thafe of a wind
that’s took the roof clane off the chick¬
en-house, and there’s the wee bits iv
chicks n-stharvin to death wid cowhl.”
“And in this dreadful rain, too,”
said L
“It’s clared off line,” said Biddy,
“ and the moon’s up.”
“We must go out and put them in
the wood-house,” said I. And so say¬
ing, I tucked baby up in her blankets,
and, wrapping a shawl over my head,
went out into the night air. It had
grown very cold, but it was clear, as
Biddy had said, and we paddled round
in the mud catching the poor little
chickens. We had them all at last ex¬
cept one, and we heard its little voice—
swee, awee, twee —somewhere, and, of
course, could not be so heartless as to
forsake it. And at last there it was,
tangled up in some dead vines, and as
cold as a lump of ice. By the time we
gave it to its mother, who was very glad
to see it, the clock struck 12. Baby
had been alone three-quarters of an
hour.
“ Muzzer’s darling I sound aaleepy
yet?” I said, as I went to the cradle.
Merciful powers ! shall I ever forget that
moment ? Baby was not there !
In a moment the truth flashed on my
mind. House-breakers had entered the
dwelling in our absence, and stolen my
treasure. Perhaps they were in tire
house yet, or some of them. I felt the
strength of a tigress, and, leaving Biddy
howling in the dining-room, rushed up
stairs.
Sure enough, there was a light in my
bedroom, and I peeped in. The mo¬
ment I did so I felt I was powerless.
The robber who had stolen my baby
was there, and the terribly muddy boots
of another were sticking from under the
bed; and, oh, horrors 1 another had got
into it, and had hidden, os he imagined,
under the quilts.
Ou my presence of mind depended
the recovery of my child and my own
life. In a moment the plan flashed
upon me. There was but one door to
the room, and the windows were high
and barred, for I had contemplated the
time when baby should be large enough
to climb up and lean out. Noiselessly
and suddenly I drew that door to and
locked it on the outside; then, with the
key in my hand, and trembling like an
aspen leaf, I stole down stairs and cried
to Bridget, “I’ve locked them in; they
shall give my baby buck ; come with
me!” and away I went across the garden
and down the road to the first house.
That was “ Mulligan’s Tavern,” a very
low place, indeed, shunned by all re¬
spectable folk ; but I knew there were
always men there who were afraid of no¬
body. The greatest brutes would not
refuse aid to a woman at such, a time.
As we came near I saw a light in one
of the windows, and heard voices and
loud laughter. It was no time for cere¬
mony, so I burst the door open and ran
in. There were four men playing cards,
aud old Mrs. Mulligan behind the bar.
“ O! please excuse me,” I cried; “but
do come right away. There are house¬
breakers in my house, and they’ve sto¬
len my baby ."
“ Stholo the baby ?” eried old Mrs.
Mulligan.
“ 0, do come !” I implored.
“ Go, Pat,” said the old woman;
“never mind the game. It’s Missus
Jackman ; more betoken she’s the next
neighbor to us. Take yer pistols, an’
away wid ye, Ixjys. An’, missus, just
take a drop of screechin’ hot whisky to
kape the life in je.”
Of course I refused the latter offer,
but in a moment the men were on their
fee t, and I felt like blessing them—those
half-savage creatures -who had become
my protectors.
I don’t know how we got to the house,
or up-stairs. I remember an awful tu*
mult, a smell of gunpowder, oaths and
shouts. Then there was silence—then
a loud laugh.
“It’s thrue, boys !” said old Mulli¬
gan's voice. “I know Misther Jackman,
an’ it’s himself. It’s a great misthake—
that’s nil."
A singular mistake to enter a man’s
house, and endeavor to shoot him in
his own bed 1” said a voice I knew to be
my husband’* ; and at that I rushed into
the room.
He was there, and so wus baby, for he
held her in his arms ; and there, also,
was Mulligan and liis friends and their
pistols, and half the furniture was
broken and the stove upset But as for
the house-breakers, they—I began to
see the truth. Mr. Mulligan was back
ing out.
“I’ll lave Mrs. Jackman to explain,”
he said. “An’ I’m proud I didn’t kill
ye, though it’s out o’ friendship I’d have
done it; for if your' own wife took ye
for a house-breaker how would I know
better ? The top o’ the night till ye, au’
I’ll lave the lady to explain. ”
Ah! I did really wish that the ground
would open and swallow me. You see,
my husband had come home while we
were hunting up the chickens, and, find¬
ing baby wide awake, had taken her up
to bed, and gone to. sleep. And the
robber under the bed was his muddy
boots, with, of course, no feet in them ;
and well there were none, for they were
riddled with bullet holes. Mr. Mulli¬
gan had fired at them, fortunately.
When I thought of the awful danger
Jasper and the baby had been in, I went
into strong hysterics at ones, and fright
.ened Jasper so that he was glad to for
givo me when I came to myself. It was
a terrible mistake, and might have end¬
ed seriously, of course ; but I will »ay,
now and always, that it was Jasper’s
fault, and that if he had been a house¬
breaker we might all have been thank¬
ful for my great presence of mind.
“ What does a woman want to nut on
gloves in hot weather for?” asks a ms e
s ibseribcr. Why, to keep her hand in,
-tipid.-UostoM Post.
NO. 30.
Porcelain Manufacture.
In 1773 the first porcelain factory wot
established at Limoges by Messrs. Mas
sier, Fourueyra & Grellet, under the pro¬
tection of the wise and liberal Iatendant
Turgot. It is the decoration of the por
celain that gives it its value as well as its
charm. Its manufacture is comparative¬
ly easy and simple. The kaolin, a dry,
whitish-yellow clay, is first taken iu
lumps from the quarry and carried to
one or the other of the numerous mills
lining the Vienne, where it is ground
fine and reduced to a liquid paste closely
resembling bread-dough. In this shape
it is carried in sacks to the factory,
where, having been again worked over
to secure fineness and pliability, it is
ready for the molder’s or the turner's
hands.
Nothing can exceed the deftness
and skill with which, under the
magic touch of the experienced work¬
man, shapeless lumps of this prepared
clay are fashioned into cups, dishes,
vases and every conceivable lorm of the
most delicate pottery. It is so quickly
done, too! One handy operative can
make two hundred cups a day. Once
molded into shape, the piece of pottery
is dipped into liquid enamel which gives
it hardness and brilliancy. It receives
too the stamp of the manufacturer. It is
then placed in what is called a gazette to
be put into an oven to bake. The gazette
j is composed of a pair of deep earthen
saucers fitting tightly together and form¬
ing a circular box, varying in dimen¬
sions according to the sizes of the objects
to be baked. The greater part of those
: n use are little larger than an ordinary
soup-plate. In this gazette the piece of
porcelain is hermetically sealed up, and
then it goes into the oven with thou •
sands of other gazettes, until the great
circular furnace, twenty feet in diameter
and two stories high, is packed full from
side to side and from bottom to top.
Then the doors are closed, the fires are
lit, and for a period varying from thirty
four to fifty horn’s the baking process
goes on at a temperature of 3200°. Even
alter the fires are extinguished the heat
in the furnace remains intense, and
twelve hours more must elapse before it,
subsides sufficiently to permit the work¬
men to enter, remove and open the
gazettes, take out the porcelains, which
are now hard and brilliant, and send
them to the artists for decoration. There
are in all some seventy of these ovens in
Limoges, with an average capacity of six
thousand pieces. As most of them are
kept going night and day, the reader can
form some idea of the amount daily man¬
ufactured.
But thus far we have only followed
the process through its homlier stages.
The decorative work, yet to come, is the
most delicate as it is the most interesting.
But not every piece of porcelain that
comes out of the oven reaches the deco¬
rator’s hands. Of every hundred pieces
baked, an average of twenty-five are
thrown out as inferior, and the remain¬
ing seventy-five are divided or sorted out
into four grades, known as second choice,
choice, elite and special, in the average
proportion of thirty, twenty-five, fifteen
and five to eacli class respectively. The
special is employed only for very rich
decorations; elite is recommended for
best selection; the choice is for ordinary
usage; and the second choice is of such
fair quality as to be pronounced less im
perfect than the best porcelain sent from
China and Japan, and specially recom
mended as the most economical pottery,
The price of decoration varies according
o the selection of porcelain to which if
‘ a applied. Thus, for instance, the low¬
er grades of artists are employed upon
the second-choice porcelain, while the
best paintere and decorators work upon
^ 1C ’ *^ ie 8 P e<: bl * 3 0 ^ly given to
urt , ‘ sts ^ ie rnost exceptional merit,
llie venous artiste, painters and decora,
tors, are paid salaries which, according
to the French standard, are considered
munificent, though they sound small
enough to American ears. Much of the
decorating, such as flowers, birds, vines,
etc., is done by laying the paper designs
upon the porcelain and painting ovei
them. The gilding is more laborious,
and enormous quantities of pure gold
leaf are used. The gold, once laid on,
can only become permamently part and
parcel of the porcelain by being subjected
to an additional six hours’ baking at «
torn Denature of 800° Reaumur
Marie Makcal took a walk in New
Orleans with a rival of the man whom
she was soon to marry, in order to tell
him that he must cease his attentions.
Her affianced husband saw them to¬
gether, and, refusing to hear her expla¬
nation, peremptorily broke his engage¬
ment. She therefore desired to die, and
tried to throw herself before a locomo¬
tive, but she slipped on some wet grass,
and only lost a leg. Her lover is now
convinced of her loyalty, and will marry
her.