Newspaper Page Text
m n n Ol XT f—t> ■ *
YOL. I.
JOHN C. VAN SYCKEL & CO,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
CROCKERY,
GLASSWARE,
House Furnishing Goods
Tin-Plate,
Stoves,
Hardware,
&c., &c.
MA-urr act cribs or
TINWARE.
No. 116 Third Street,
MACON, GA.
HOW TO SAVE MONEY
BUY YOB Wm
FRJM
J. M. WOOD,
Wrightsville, Ga.
V'l*r°"He deals In DRY GOODS and GRO¬
CERIES, mil will sell as low ns the lowest,
Dalie ics, Homespuns, D filings. Jeans, Boots
md shoes <>l all kinds.
Bacon, Flour, Coffee, Rice, etc., always on
land. Also a nice selection of
Millinery Goods,
Such as Ladies’ Hats, Ribbons and Flowers o'
*11 ileecjFuiuous, aud vaiLms other things too
ltimeiou, to mention. Call and see tor you -
lull.
CARHART & CURD,
DEALERS IX
Hardware, Iron & Steel I
WOODENWARE,
Carriage Material,
Cotton Gins,
Circular Saws,
SCAlLES,
PAINTS, OILS, &c.
Macon, Gra.
I!. J. DAVANT. J. 3 W-OD, JB
DAY ANT & WOOD,
1X4 Bay Street,
Savannah., Georgia.
Special attention given to sale ol
C0n0I,RlCE & NATAL 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 •9 SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1880.
DRUG STORE.
J. W. BRINSON & CO.,
DRUGGISTS,
Wrightsville, Georgia.
Have on hand a complete stock of Drug)
and all other articles usually kept in •
First" Class
Drug Store J
Which they are selling at prices to suit th«
times, and are prepared to fill all orders ane
prescriptions on the shortest possible notice.
Dr. J. W. BRINSON continues to prac
tioe his prolession in its various brances.
Office at the Drug Store.
W. B. MELL & CO.,
Wholesale and retail dealors in
SADDLES, BRIDLES, HARNESS,
Rubber* and Leather
BELTING AND PACKINC,
French and American Call Skins, Sole, Har.
ness, Bridle and Patent Leather,
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 attention. Charges reasonable and
satisfaction 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 tilt
public with the finest the market affords. The
highest market prices paid for country produce.
Miss Anna R, McWhorter,
Wrightsville, Ga.,
Keeps on hand a nice selection of
Millinery and Fancy Goods
SUCH AS
LADIES’ HATS, RIBBONS,
FLOWERS and TRIMMINGS.
In endless variety; also a nice assortment ol
latest patterns, etc., all lor sale as cheap m
the cheapest. I am also prepared to cut, fit
and make dresses at short notice. Call on m<
belore purchasing elsewhere.
Z. SMITH,
Six miles Irom Tennille, on Wrightsville Road
Is now prepared to make and repair
Wagons, Carts, Plows, Etc,
I keep constantly on hand a, large stock ol
Plows and Chairs, whioh I am selling at
reasonable rates.
J. T. & B. J. DENT.
Eight miles west of Wrightsville, Ga.
Keep constantly on hind a fine assortment
ot Pure
Liquors, Brandies, Wines, Ales, Lager.
Etc., etc.; also Tobacco, Cigars, Candies,
Pickles, Oysters, Sardines, and a
lull line ot lamily
GROCERIES I
All ol which we will sell at inside figures
Give us a trial. Respectfully,
J. T. & B. J. DENT.
A. J. BRADDY & SON '
W KIGHTSVn.LE, GA.
BLACKSMITH SHOP.
A specialty of Plantation Work. Wagons,
Buggies, etc., made and repaired.
Plows and Plow-Stocks of all kinds, and
every kind of Wood and Iron Work done by
A. J. BRADDY & SON,
_Wrightsville, Ga.
John A. Shivers & Son,
Tennille, Ga.,
Are now prepared to build, repair and
overhaul
Carriages,Buggies,Waps, &c.
Jfjjp” We also make a specialty ot Ono
Hone Wagons.
Blossoming.
God gives each flower a summer-time,
Some golden, glowing noon,
When ell Its petals open wide
To hisses from the sum
And so within each life there buds
An eostaey of bloom,
When love, sweet summer of the heart,
Dispels all mist and gloom.
Dike gossamers on meadow sward
The magic threads fall down,
And softly weave about the heart
A shining net-work warm.
Love’s tender elasping folds us in,
World-voices fade away,
And through tho golden prison bars
We hear what angels say.
Oh! brief, sweet hour of blossoming,
We clasp thy dear delay!
So soon the fleeting, roseate hours
Are rounded by the gray.
Dear God 1 And must love’B sun go down
And twilight shades come on ?
Must long, sweet summer days fade out?
Must fairest blossoms fall?
In pity, Lord! then Rive each heart,
From out earth’s spaces wide,
Some little spot to live love’s hour,
Nor let cold fate divide I
So soon tho twilight bridge of death
Is reached—and the “ beyond ”
Stands sphynx-like, finger-tip on lip—
Death answerct?\ not love’s call
Alton, Ill.
MILLS AND BENTON.
These two were distantly related to
each other—seventh cousins, or some¬
thing of that sort. While still babies
they became orphans, and were adopted
by tho Brants, a childless couple, who
quickly grew very fond of them. The
Brants wero always saying, “Be pure,
honest, sober, industrious and consider¬
ate of others, and success in life is as¬
sured.” The children heard this re¬
peated some thousands of times before
they understood it; they could repeat it
themselves long before they could say
tho Lord’s Prayer ; it was painted over
the nursery door, and was about tbs
first thing they learned to read. It was
destined to become the unswerving rule
of Edward Mills’ life. Sometimes the
Brants changed the wording a little, and
said, “Be pure, honest, sober, indus¬
trious, considerate, and you will never
lack friends.”
Baby Mills was a comfort to every¬
body about liim When he wanted
candy and could not have it lie listened
to reason and contented himself with¬
out it. When Baby Benton wanted
candy he cried for it until he got it.
Baby Mills took care of bis toys ; Baby
Benton always destroyed his in a very
brief time, and then made himself so in¬
sistently disagreeable that, in order o
have peace in tho house, little Edward
was persuaded to yield up his playthings
to him.
When the children were a little older,
Georgie became a heavy expense in one
respect; he took no care of his clothes;
consequently he shone frequently in
new ones, which was not tho ease with
Eddie, The boys grew apace. Eddie
was an increasing comfort, Georgie an
increasing solicitude. It was always
sufficient to say, in answer to Eddie’s
petitions, “I would rather you would
uot do it ”—meaning swimming, skating,
picnicking, berrying, circusing, and all
sorts of things which boys delight in.
But no answer was sufficient for Georgie;
he had to be humored in his desires, or
he would carry them with a high hand.
Naturally, no boy got more swimming,
skating, berrying and so forth than he ;
no boy ever had a better time. The
good Brants did not allow the boys to
play out after 9 in summer evenings;
they were sent to bed at that honr ; Ed¬
die honorably remained, but Georgia
usually slipped out of the window
toward 10, and enjoyed himself till mid¬
night. It seemed impossible to break
Georgie of this bad habit, but the Brants
managed it at last by hiring him, with
apples and marbles, to stay in. The
good Brants gave all their time and at¬
tention to vain endeavors to regulate
Georgie; they said, with grateful tears
in their eyes, that Eddie needed no ef¬
forts of theirs, he was so good, so oon
ciderate, and in all ways so perfect
By-and-by the boys were big enough
to work, so they were apprenticed to a
trade. Edward went voluntarily; George
was coaxed and bribed. Edward worked
hai'd and faithfully, and ceased to be an
expense to the good Brants; they
praised him, so did his master; but
George ran away, and it cost Mr. Brant
both money and trouble to hunt him up
and get him hack. By-and-by he ran
away again—mine money and more
trouble. He ran away a third time, and
stole a few little things to carry with
him. Trouble and expense for Mr.
Brant once more; and, besides, it was
with the greatest difficulty that he suc¬
ceeded in persuading the master to
let the youth go uuprosecuted for the
theft.
Edward worked steadily along, and in
time became a full partner in liis mas¬
ter’s business. George did not improve
he kept the loving hearts of his aged
benefactors full of trouble, and their
hands full of inventive activities to pro¬
tect him from ruin. Edward, as a boy,
had interested himself in Sunday
sc1kk)1s, debating societies, penny mis¬
sionary affairs, anti-tobacco organiza¬
tions, anti-profanity associations, and all
such things ; as a man, he was a quiet
but steady and reliable helper in the
church, the temperance societies, and in
all movements looking to the aiding and
uplifting of men. This excited no re¬
mark, attracted no attention, for it was
his “natural bent.”
Finally the old people died. The will
testified their loving pride in Edward,
and left then' little property to George—
because he “needed it; ” whereas, “ow¬
ing to a bountiful Providence,” such
was not the case with Edward. The
property was left to George conditional¬
ly ; he must buy out Edward’s partner
with it, else it must go to a benevolent
organization called the Prisoner’s Friend
Society. The old people left a letter, in
which they begged their dear son Ed¬
ward to take their place and watch over
George, and help aud shield him as they
had done.
Edward dutifully acquiesced, and
George became his partner in the busi¬
ness. He was not a valuable partner
,
he had been meddling with drink be¬
fore ; he soon developed into a constant
tippler, now, and his flesh and eyes
showed the fact unpleasantly. Edward
had been courting a sweet and kindly
spirited girl for some time. They loved
each other dearly, and—. But about
this period Georgo began to haunt her
tearfully and 'imploringly, and at last
she went crying to Edward, and said her
high and holy duty was plain before
her—she must not let her own
selfish desires interfere with it;
she must marry “pool George” and
“reform him.” It would break her
Heart, she knew it would, and so on;
but duty was duty. So she married
George, and Edward’s heart came very
near breaking, as well as her own. How¬
ever, Edward recovered, and married
another girl—a very excellent one she
was, too.
Children came to both families. Mary
did her honest best to reform her hus¬
band, but the contract was too large.
George went on drinking, and by and by
he foil to misusing her and the little
ones sadly. A great many good people
strove with George—they were always
at t, in fact-—but he calmly took such
efforts as his due and their duty, and
did not mend his ways. He added a
vice, presently—•that of secret gambling.
He got deeply in debt; he borrowed
money on the firm’s credit, as quietly as
lie could, and carried this system so far
and so successfully that one morning
the Sheriff took possession of the estab¬
lishment, and the two cousins found
themselves penniless.
Times were hard, now, and they grew
worse. Edward moved his family into a
garret, and walked the streets day and
night, seeking work. He begged for it,
but it was really not to bo had. He was
astonished to see how soon his face be¬
came unwelcome; he wns astonished and
hurt to see how quickly tho ancient in¬
terest which people had had in him faded
out and disappeared. Still lie must get.
work; so he swallowed his chagrin, and
toiled on in search of it. At last he got
a job of carrying bricks up a ladder in a
liod, and was a grateful man in conse¬
quence ; but, after that, nobody know
him or cared anything about him. Ho
was not able to keep up his dues in the
various moral organizations to which he
belonged, and had to endure the sharp
pain of seeing himself brought under
the disgrace of suspension.
But the faster Edward died out of pub¬
lic knowledge and interest, the faster
George rose in them. He was found rag¬
ged and drunk, in the gutter, one morn¬
ing. A member of the Ladies’ Temper¬
ance Refuge fished him out, took him in
hand, got up a subscription for him,
kept him sober a whole week, then got a
situation for him. An account of it was
published.
General attention was thus drawn to
the poor fellow, and a great many people
came forward and'holped him toward re¬
form with their countenance and en¬
couragement. Ho did not drink a drop
for two months, and meantime was the
pet of the good. Then he fell—in tho
gutter; and there was general sorrow
and lamentation. But the noble sister¬
hood rescued him again. They cleaned
him up, they fed him, they listened to
the mournful music of his repentances,
they got him his situation again. An ac¬
count of this, also, was published, and
the town was drowned in happy tears
over the restoration of the poor beset
and struggling victim of the fatal bowl.
A grand temperance revival was got up,
and after some rousing speeches had
been made the Chairman said, impres¬
sively, “We are now about to call for
signors; and I think there is a spectacle
in store for you which not many in this
house will be able to view with dry eyes.”
There was an eloquent pause, and then
George Benton, escorted by a detach¬
ment of the ladies of the Refuge, stepped
forward upon the platform and signed
the pledge. The air was rent with ap¬
plause, and everybody cried for joy.
Everybody wrung the hand of the new
convert when the meeting was over; his
salary was enlarged next day ; he was
the talk of the town, and its hero. An
account of it was published.
George Benton fell, regularly, every
three mouths, hut was faithfully rescued
and wrought with every time, and good
situations were found for him. Finally,
lie was taken around the country lectur¬
ing, as a reformed drunkard, and he had
great houses and did an immense amount
of good.
He was so popular at home, and so
trusted—during his sober intervals—
that he wns enabled to use tho name of
a principal citizen and get a large sum
of money at tho hank. A mighty pres¬
sure was brought to bear to save him
from the consequences of his forgery,
and it was partially successful—he was
“ sent up ” for only two years. When,
at the end of a year, the tireless efforts
of the benevolent were crowned with
success, and he emerged from the peni¬
tentiary with a pardon in his pocket, the
Prisoner’s Friend Society met him at
the door with a situation and a comfort¬
able salary, and all the other benevolent
people came forward and gave him ad¬
vice, encouragement and help. Edward
Mills had once applied to the Prisoner’s
Friend Society for a situation, when in
dire need, hut the question, “ Have you
been a prisoner ?” made brief work of
his case.
While all these things wero going on,
Edward Mills had been quietly making
head against adversity. Ho was still
poor, but was in receipt of a steady and
sufficient salary, as the respected and
trusted cashier of a bank. George Ben¬
ton never came near him, and was never
heard to inquire about him. George got
to indulging in long absences from the
town; there were ill reports about him,
but nothing definite.
One winter's night some masked bur¬
glars forced their way into tho bank and
found Edward Mills there alone. They
commanded him to reveal the “com¬
bination,” so that they could get into
the safe, He refused. They threatened
his life. He said his employers trusted
him, and he could not be a traitor to
that trust. He could die, if he must,
but while be lived be would be faithful;
lie would not yield up the “combina¬
tion.” The burglars killed him.
The detectives hunted down the crimi¬
nals ; the chief one proved to be George
Benton, A wide sympathy was felt for
the widow and orphans of the dead man,
and all the newspapers in the land
begged that all the banks in the land
would testify their appreciation of the
fidelity and heroism of the murdered
cashier by coming forward with a gen¬
erous contribution of money in aid of
his family, now bereft of support. Tho
result was a mass of solid cash amount
lug to upward of $500—an average of
nearly three-eighths of a cent fof each
bank in the Union. The cashier's own
bank testified its gratitude by endeavor¬
ing to show (but humiliatingly failed in
it) that the peerless servant’s accounts
were not square, and that he himself had
knocked his brains out with a bludgeon
to escape detection and punishment,
George Benton was arraigned for trial.
Then everybody seemed to forget the
widow and orphans in their solicitude
for poor George. Everything that money
and influence could do was done to save
him, but it all failed ; he was sentenced
to death. Straightway the Governor
was besieged with petitions for commu¬
tation or pardon; they were brought by
tearful young girls, by sorrowful old
maids, by deputations of pathetic
widows, by shoals of impressive or
phans. But no, the Governor—for
once- - would not yield.
Now Georgo Benton experienced re¬
ligion. The glad news flew all around.
From that time fortn his cell was always
full of girls and women and fresh flow¬
ers ; all the day long there was prayer,
and hymn-singing, and thanksgivings,
and homilies, and tears, with never an
interruption, except an occasional five
minute intermission for refreshments.
This sort of thing continued up to the
very gallows, and George Benton went
proudly home, in the black cap, before
a wailing audience of the sweetest and
best that the region could product.
NO. 31.
His grave bad fresh flowers on it every
day for a while, and the headstone bora
these words, under a hand pointing
aloft: “He has fought the good fight.”
The brave cashier’s headstone has this
inscription “Be pure, honest, sober,
industrious, considerate, and you will
never—-”
Nobody knows who gave the order to
leave it that way, but it was so given.
The casliier’s family are in stringent
circumstances now, it is said; but no
matter; a lot of appreciative people,
who were not willing that an act so
brave and true as his should go unre¬
warded, have collected $42,000, and
built a Memorial Church with it.
Locust Leaves.
How sad is the memory of those whom
wo remember only by some unkind word
or act. We have just been thinking of
one we used to know when we were but
a little child; he was our teacher, and
with a death-like dread we saw him
move or heard him speak. We are not
so much afraid now of anything here
or hereafter as we once were of him.
We met another one this evening
who once attended his school. He is a
sun-browned laboring man now ; he was
a slender, delicate boy of twelve yearn
then, gangling and ungraceful, with a
melancholy look and tone. We looked
at him and thought of our teacher, and
of one afternoon at school, and of the
unkind remark that fastened it all in
our memory. Tho class had read, from
ono of the old readers, that interesting
story of the lost child; there sat tho
teacher before them and asked, of the
one above named, the subject of the
lesson. After some hesitation, the boy
replied he could not tell. “Well,” said
the teacher,, “if you were to wander
away from li#me bo that you could not
be found, what would you bo called?"
The name of the lesson was remembered
now, and, as if some happy thought or
new inspiration had beamed upon him,
the boy exultiugly exclaimed, “The
Lost Child!” “Ha! Haw! Haw!”
heartily laughed the teacher, and then
said: “Well, sir, / shonld call you n
lost b-o-y!” The indescribably hateful
tone and manner in which these words
were spoken rendered them peculiarly
effective. It was years ago, but we
shall never forget the sad, insulted look
that Bettled on the face of that youth.
He was homely, sickly, always shrink¬
ing and quiet, and very sensitive, and
that hit of ridicule not only crashed
him, but silenoed tho whole class. And
this evening when he said: “Someway,
I don’t know why, but I never liked
Mr. Johnson, ” we though t wc knew why.
Mns. J. V. H. Koons.
Mukoie, Ind.
Oar Boundless Resources.
Our continent is the largest producer
of surplus crops, both vegetable and an¬
imal, on the globe. It is the only pro¬
ducer on an extensive scale of an excess
of cotton for clothing man. It is by
long odds the greatest producer of the
precious metals. Yet in each of these
departments of production this conti¬
nent, and particularly our own country,
is still so far short of its full capacity
that one may almost say that there has
been us yet no systematic development
of our resources. Vast tracts of arable
and grazing lands of the .best quality
are even now in their primeval condition
—uninhabited and untouched by the
plow. The whole cotton crop of the
world might be grown in Texas alone.
The mineral resources of the country
have not even been exposed, much less
developed. The tide of emigration from
Europe to the United States is now
larger than at any period of our history.
The condition of affairs in the Old World
is such that we may hope for enormous
additions to our population during the
next decade, as the competition of the
American farmer has added a new causo
of depression in the agricultural dis¬
tricts of Europe, while the resources of
tho United States are every year becom¬
ing bettor understood and appreciated
abroad. Therefore, we confidently look
for a period of prosperity in this country
greater than any that has ever been
vouchsafed us. Indeed, the wildest
dream of to-day may easily fall short of
the future reality of the agricultural,
mineral and manufacturing wealth of
this favored land of .ours.
It is not generally known, but is never
theless true, that a son-in-law of the
great New York merchant prince, H. B.
Claflin, is now earning his bread in Cleve¬
land by the sweat of his brow, in the
capacity of coachman to a Euclid avenue
family. Several years ago the papers
were full of his elopement with Miss
Claflin, who, upon becoming Mrs.-.
died, leaving behind her an only child,
little girl, who is now with her nana.