Newspaper Page Text
ftlie Uriii [itsmlle tortar k 4
YOL. I.
JOB* C. TAB SYGKEL &
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
CROCKERY,
GLASSWARE,
Bouse Furnishing Goods
. Tin-[Plate,
Stoves,
Hardware,
&e.. &c.
MjjnnrAOvtraM ow
TINWARE.
No. 116 Third Street,
______MACON. <U.____
OARHART & CURD,
DKM.K&I m
Hardware, Iron & Steel,
WOODENWARE,
Carriage Material,
Cotton Gins,
Circular Saws, I
SCALES,
PAINTS, OILS, &c.
Morton. rin
........
U. ,r. DAVANT. j. 8. wcod, jr.
D4V&NT & WOOD,
114 Bay Street.
Savannah, Georgia
.
Special attention given to sale oi I
COTTON,RICE&HAVAL STORES
I
AOCN 7 S roa
i
DRAKE’S COTTON TIES,
i
CdJrti advances nmd« on oon*i£nmerits.
SID. A. POGHSLEY. Jr.
AGENT AND SALESMAN,
-WITH
I. L. FALK & CO. 9 |
CLOTHIERS,
425 and 427 Broome St., New York,
Cor. Congress and Whittaker Street?,
HAVANNATI. GA,
A. J. BRADDY & SON
WniGtrrsriLLE, Ga.
BLACKSMITH SHOP.
A specialty of Plantation Work. Wagons,
Buggies, etc., made and repaired.
Plows and Plow-Stocks of all kinds, ami
eveiy kind of Wood and ironWork done Viy
A. J. BRADDY & SON,
Wrightsville, Ga.
SMITH’S HOTEL,
W. J. M. SMITH, Aoekt.
Wrightsville, Georgia.
Having lately undergone thorough repairs,
this Hotel is prepared to accommodate tbe
public with the finest the market affords. The
bighest market prices paid for country nreduce
John A. Shivers & Son,
Tkknille, Ga.,
Are now prepared to bnild, repair and
overhaul
Carriages, Buggies,Waps, Sc.
%3T~ W« alee make t speeiaity One
Bar** Wagmft,
WRIGHTSVILLE, GA., SATURDAY, MARCH 26. 1881.
DRUG STORE.
J. W. BRINSON & CO.,
DRUGGISTS,
Wrightsville, Georgia,
Have on hand a complete* stock of Drngi
and all other articles usually kept in a
UEnx'st- Class
Drug Store,
Which they are selling at prices to suit thi
times, and are prepared to fill all orders ane
prescriptions on tho shortest possible notice.
Dk. J. W. MUNSON combines to prao
tice his profession in its various brances.
Office at the Drug Store.
W. B. MELL & CO.,
Wholesale and retail dealers in
SADDLES, BRIDLES, HARNESS,
Rubber and .Leather
BELTING AND PACKING,
French and American Call Skied, Sole, Hav.
negfl, Bridle and Patent Leather,
WHIPS AND SADDLERY WARE
TRUNKS, VALISES,
Market Square, Savannah, Un
Offers by mail pro mptly a ttended to.
A. M. MATHIS,
TE.VNir.M5, Ga.,
j
a Specialty,
Ail tvork intrusted to my care will receive
prompt attention. Oliavges reasonable and
sin Uinct ion guaranteed in every instance.
Miss Anna K, McWhorter,
Whig jits VIU.E, Ga.,
Keeps on hand a nice selection oi
lillSFf ifl Fancy Goods
SUCH AS
LADIES’HATS, RIBBONS.
FLOWERS and TRIMMINGS
In endless variety; also n nioe assortment oi
latest patterns, etc., alt for sale as cheap m
the cheapest. T kbi also prepared m cut, fli
am' make dresses at short notice. Call on m<
belore puro’nasiny elsewhere.
J. T. & B. 3 . DENT,
Eight miles west o‘ Wrightsville, (bt.
Keep constantly on h nd a fine assortment
ol Pure
Liquors, Brandies, Wines, Ales, Lager.
Etc., eto.; also Tobacco, Cigars, Candies,
Pickles, OyBters, Sardines, and a
lull line of tamily
GROCE RIE S !
All ot which we will sell at inside figures
Givens a trial. Respectlnlly,
J. T. & B. J. DENT.
My Bast Girl.
Oil, she wears a sealskin sack,
When it snows;
And her stunning suit is black
As the crow’s;
Short—and thinks it is a pity;
Charming, jolly, wise, anil witty:
Has a retrousse—so pretty—
Little nose.
In her basket-phaeton,
When it blows,
With her striking glasses on.
Out she goes;
And she’s just as sweet as stately,
And she sits there so sedately,
With her cheeks and lips so greatly
Like a rose.
She plays Chopin, Liszt and Spohr
For her beaux;
And she speaks of Pinafore -
Heaven knows!
With a naughty “D” and “Never!”
But she’s awful nice and clever;
If she’d like me I’d endeavor
To propose.
—Ado, Columbiana.
An Equivocal Answer.
A certain literary gentleman, wishing
to be undisturbed one day, instructed
his Irish servant to admit no one, and,
if any one should inquire for him, to
give him an “ equivocal answer.” Night
came, and the gentleman proceeded to
inteiTOgate Pat as to his callers.
“ Did any one call ?”
“ Yis, sur, wan gentleman.”
“ What did he say ? ”
“ He axed was yer honor in.”
“ Well, what did you tell him ?”
“ Sure, I gave him a quiviklo answer
jist.”
“ How was tliat ? ”
' ; “ I axed him was his grandmother a
S monkey I ”
“ How Countrified.”
I saw a manly farmer, a champion of the soil,
With his neat, though homely garments, and
look of honest toil;
ir 1 0<
He stootTwithin* vour 1 city, mid I marked his
modest grace;
And fiiany passed witli stately step, in broad
cloth and in pride,
But murmured, as they looked on him, “Oh,
my. how countrified.’
I saw ati aged lady, a Duborah past her pf'V ,
.
Who’d measured years of usefulness, content to
hide her time;
for a seat within a stage-coach, I heard her ask
one day,
When one with foee like Esau (no birthright by
she nde outside.
countrified.”
In learning’s classic temple, with an open brow
and high,
Stood one of nature’s gentlemen, bright genius
in his eye,
Yet boro his hands a trace of toil, his frame a
store of health,
Ot far more sterling worth, my friends, than all
his classmate's wealth;
And high up wisdom’s mount he stood, it could
not be denied,
Yet in the distance one could see how very
" countrified. ’
1 saw a bounteous, well-spread board, in farm
house kept with care;
And merry was the household band, for city
fl ’! cnds woro t,l< ‘ re ’
While the generous, soul-felt welcome each
kindly lip expressed
Inspired with easy confidence each cared-for,
happy guest;
And while 1 listened earnestly to what each
might confide,
t heard their numerous praises, but never
“ countrified.”
Sot many months from this, I saw the mistress
of that farm,
At threshold of her last year’s guest with
sachcl on her arm;
Straightway a little daughter, well instructed
what to say,
Appeared to tell her country rriend, that “mu
has gone away;”
As with disappointed countenance, the woman
turned aside,
Thu lnily murmured in her room, “ She looked
so conn,trified.” r*i
Shako ‘ , ' oil ~1. ' cankering ? v ■. letters,, ‘ slaves ;
your ye to
fashion’s king
Declare your independence, and fruthfnl oiler
ing bring,
To deck tlie shrine of liberty; in virtue put
join trust,
Aml honor mem everywhere, in . damask or m
’
Wo’ro eltildren of uno family, it cannot bo do¬
med,
For our Father ilwolt in fhlen—and lit- was
“ countrified.”
TWO ELOPEMENTS.
In a large, square, old-fashioned
house—such as our fathers used to
build when solidity was more sought
after than utility—lived Philip Manson
and his sister Esther. Philip had
reached the mature age of forty years,
and Esther was close to him. Still,
each had pursued a solitary pathway
through life, seeking no companionship
save that, of tho other, till there was
reason to believe that they would con¬
tinue to follow the same course till in
the fullness of time they were gathered
into the family tomb—the receptacle of
many generations of the Manson family.
There w’as more reason to think so,
since they took care to commend an un¬
married life, not only by example but
by precept.
“ No,” said Philip, when assailed on
this subject by a match-making-lady;
“ marrying may be very good for some
people, but I could not bear to have my
habits broken in upon, and my whole
house turned topsy-turvy by the intro¬
duction of a wife.”
“But by-and-bye, when you grow
older, you will feel the. need of a wife
more that at present.’
“No,” said Philip, conclusively, “I
have a sister who is devoted to me, and
while she lives I shall need no other.
As for Miss Esther, she often
declared that she never would
make a slave of herself for any
man living. If other women were fool¬
ish enough to give up their independ¬
ence, and tie themselves to a man, for
no-other earthly purposes than to bur¬
den themselves with cares and toil from
morning till night, she was sure she had
no objection. For her own part she was
wiser. Her brother and she had always
Jived together peaceably and happily,
and she did not think she could make
any change for the better.
Of course, it was insinuated by thoso
whose opinions differed widely from
Miss Esther’s, that in adopting this
opinion she was only making virtue of
necessity, and that it was best to be con¬
tended with one’s lot, provided there
was no chance of improving it. But
Esther did not hear these remarks, and
so was not disturbed by them. She
continued to live in the old house with
her brother. They kept no domestic,
since Esther rather plumed herself on
her liouskeeping qualities, and there
was really but little to do. So, as her
brother was usually absent during tho
day, she was left for the most part to
the companionship of her own thoughts,
unless some neighbor chanced to cal
in—a t hi ng , by the way, of rather rare
occurrence, since most of the neighbors
had large families of their own, which
necessarily confined them at home.
Early one afternoon, just after Esther
Manson had complet ed her task of clear
ing away the dinner dishes, and at or
"
a ran at the door
Somewhat surprised by a ealler at this
uuusual hour, she answered the sum¬
mons. She was a little apprehensive
that it was a neighbor who had of lato
proved very troublesome from her
habit of borrowing articles, and owing,
it is to be presumed, to an habitual for
getfulness, neglecting to return them,
“I hope,” she mused, “that if it is
Mrs. Bailey, she will bo wanting to
borrow something I have not got.”
She opened the door; but no Mrs.
Bailey presented herself to her expect
ing gaze—a gentleman of forty-five
years, carefully, nay, elegantly dressed,
stood before her.
1 r , J' 0111 ' I ,lU ' dou , tor trading,
madam, ’ said lie, as he noticed Esther’s
look of surprise; “ but can you direct
me to the house ol' the late Mr. Well
fleet? T have heard it was for sale,
and from the description I have hoard
of it, judge it will suit me.”
“It is the next house on the left,
sir,” answered Esther, who had had
time, while the gentleman was speak¬
ing, to examine his appearance, which
did not fail to impress her favorably.
“Thank yon for the information. I
trust you will pardon the trouble I
occasioned you,” replied the gentle-
“ Not thy least trouble in the world,” \ >
replied"Esther, ' ’ a little fluttered'by ’ a j
deference , to . which . she , lmd , , not , been j i
accustomed. |
Two days afterward Esther heard
that Mr. Well fleet’s estate had been
purchased 1 l>v ■ a stranger ° named Bige
low. Hlie at conjectured, . and
once
rightly, that this witi the same with her
visitor. A few days elapsed, and Esther
Manson received another visit from the
gentleman.
“ I have a favor to ask of you, Miss
Manson,” he commenced (it seemed he
had ascertained her name). “ 1 am
aware that our slight acquaintance will
hardly justify it, hut I trust time will
remove this obstruction. You must
know,” lie added, smiling,“ that I am a
bachelor, dependent in many respects
upon my housekeeper, who, though a
good woman in her way, I am afraid is
not reliable in matters of taste. As my
furniture has arrived, but lias not been
arranged, I would esteem it a real ser¬
vice if you would give me your opinion
in some little matters respecting its
proper disposition. My carriage is at
the door ready to carry you over.”
“ But,” said Esther, a little hesi¬
tatingly, “ I do not claim to have much
taste. I fear I shall prove no more
reliable in that respect than your house¬
keeper.”
“ I have but to look around me,” said
Mr. Bigelow, politely, “ to be fully
satisfied upon that point.”
Esther’s cheek flushed with pleasure
at this compliment, and she made
preparations to comply with her new
visitor’s request.
It was not without a little conscious¬
ness of the singularity of her position
that Esther found herself riding by the
side of a gentleman with whom she
had scarcely exchanged half a dozen
words in the course of her life.
The distance, however, was but short,
and she had little time for reflection.
On arriving at her place of destination
she found the chief part of her business
accomplished. The furniture, which,
by the way, was new and handsome,
had been arranged in the rooms after a
fashion, but Esther was able fo point
out several changes for the better, with
all of which Mr. Bigelow professed
himself delighted ; he, moreover, asked
her advice as to the proper place to
hang several fine pictures that he had
picked up in the course of his European
travels. This was accorded with some
hesitation.
Mr. Bigelow ivoulil not be satisfied
without showing his new-found acquaint¬
ance all over the house, from kitchen
to garret. When all was completed ho
overpowered her with protestations >of
gratitude for her kind service, and
landed her at her own door just five
minutes before her brother came in.
Esther was rather glad of this, as she
was a little suspicious that lier brother
would consider her adventure rather a
Quixotic one.
To avoid comment she did not even
inform Philip that she had ever met
Mr4Bigelow. He took frequent oppor
trinities to call upon her, upon some
slight pretext or another, but it always
chanced to be at a time when hei
brother Was absent.
«j won der,” said .Philip, carelessly,
sat try the fire one evening,
t> blether Mr. Bigelow will not be
looking out for a wife before long ?”
. «i;_i don't know 9 ’* said Esther and
. , , . . .
111 ier 0,11Jall ^ bsmen c lopping la a
“Not t,mt 1 approve of marriage
—at least, m my own case, said Philip,
not noticing this demonstration, “hut
it may be different with Mr. Bigelow.
He has no sister to superintend his
establishment. I don’t know, however,
whether there is anybody likely to suit
him in this village. Let me see—-there
is Miss Preston ; she might do.”
“No I don’t think she would suit him
at. all,” said Esther, with a spirit which
considerably surprised her brother.
“She knows very little about house¬
keeping.”
“ Why, I thought you and Miss Pres¬
ton were friends,” said Philip, a little
puzzled. |
“Well, so we are,” returned Esther in
her usual tone ; “ but I—I hardly think
she would suit Mr. Bigelow.”
“Perhaps not,” he rejoined, and so
(lie conversation ended.
From the conversation which we
liavy recorded above, the reader will
obtain some insight into the character
of Esther’s feelings toward Mr. Bige¬
low. She would hardly confess it to
herself; hut, as a matter of fact, her
ideas of marriage had suffered a ma¬
terial change within a brief period.
Meanwhile the gentleman continued
his visits. Oftentimes he would ask
to see the bed of flowers on which
Esther rather prided herself, and some
times be would petition fox seeds,.being
very fond of flowers, as he said, and
wry anxious to introduce them in his
own garden.
On oue of these occasions Mr. Bige
low, after a little visible embarrass
meat, said, hesitatingly:
“ I would like to ask your advice, Miss
Esther, on rather a delicate question,
and one of great importance to myself.
There is one thing I wish to secure to
make my establishment complete, but
1 hardly * know in what manner to ask
for it.”
“What is it you refer to?” asked
Esther, unsuspiciously.
“A wife,” was the significant reply.
Instantly a deep crimson flushed Es
tiler’s cheeks. She did not trust
to speak.
“Need Isay that you are the one,
whom, of all others, I would seek to
place in that position.”
Ho took her unresisting hand and
kissed it with all the gallantry of a
young lover.
“ But what will my brother say?” in¬
quired Esther, when she found voice to
speak.
“ What should he say? You are your
o*vn mistress, surely?”
“ Yes, but he is always ridiculing the
idea of marriage, and I couldn’t venture
to tell him.”
“ No need of it. Let’s run away to New
York and get married. You know,” he
milled, gavly, “ we are both young and
romantic, and it, would be quite in
character.”
Esther at first objected, but when she
came to consider that in this way she
would be relieved of a great portion of
the embarrassment which such a step
would naturally bring with it, she con¬
sented, and that day week was appoint ed
for the departure. She required this
time to make preparations.
Meanwhile, if Esther lmd not been so
exclusively occupied with her own
affairs, she might have noticed that a
change had come over Philip. He was
often absent evenings, and when at
home was more silent and abstracted
than was his wont. Tho former she
readily attributed to the cause which ho
assigned, namely, a pressure of business.
The latter she did not observe, her
mind being preoccupied. We, who are
in the secret, may take the liberty of
following him on ono of his business
calls. It was at a neat cottage, from
whose front door dangled an immense
knocker, that Philip Manson knocked.
The dooi was opened by the same Miss
Preston, who some months ago ho
thought “ might do ” for Mr. Bigelow.
“ Good evening, Maria,” was his sal¬
utation as he entered. After a brief
conversation about the weather, tho
crops, and other standard topics, which,
howevor trivial they may seem, could
m 45.
hardly bo dispensed with, he began to
show signs of embarrassment, and final
ly ejaculated :
“ Maria—Miss Preston—-I mean Ma
rift, what are your opinions about
marriage?”
“ ‘Why,” said she, “ 1 hardly know. I
don’t think I have given much consul
eration to the subject.”
“Because,” continued Philip, “I
find my opinions have suffered a great
change m this point. There was a,
time wheal thought it unwise, but now
it I could get a good whe, such as you,
for example, I should be inclined to
:±»
•
lor! Mr. Hanson,” said Miss
talk!”
Five minutes afterward, Miss Preston
had accepted the . proposal of Philip, and
the two were, to all intents and pur¬
poses, engaged.
“ The only thing I think of,” said the
gentleman, after a pause, “is that my
sister Esther is a decided enemy to mar¬
riage, and I hardly dare to tell her that
I am about to marry. If we could only
go away and have tho ceremony per¬
formed it would be pleasanter.”
“ Suppose we go to New York,” sug¬
gested the bride-elect.
“ A good idea. We’ll go. When can
-’ ou mid J ■
“Next Monday morning.”
So next Monday morning was agreed
upon. It so happened that Esther was
to start on Monday afternoon for the
same place, with the same purpose in
view—hut of this coincidence neither
party was aware.
The reader will please go forward a
week. By this time the respective
parties have reached New York, been
united in the holy bands ol' matrimony,
and are now legally husband and wife.
They were located at hotels situated on
the same street, and even on the same
side of the way, but were far from being
aware of tho propinquity, On the
morning succeeding the two marriages,
for by a singular chance they happened
on the same day, Mr. Bigelow and
Esther started out for a walk down
8tl . eet . it, >so happened that Philip and
j^ s w y e W0V(f a t the same moment walk
j ng U p street-. The natural consequence
was thft tWo par ties met.
“ Good heavens! my sister!” ex¬
claimed Philip.
“Merciful goodness! rnv brother!”
returned Esther.
“What brings you here with Mr.
Bigelow V”
“Nay, how happens it that you are •
here with Miss Preston!”
: Miss Preston is now’ my wife!”
r And Mr. Bigelow is now my lius
band!”
“ But I thought you were opposed to
matrimony ?”
“And I supposed you were equally
so.”
“My friends,” interposed Mr. Bige¬
low, “ this is a day of surprise—but 1
trust of sucli a nature that wo shall all
be made the happier thereby. My re¬
gret, Mr. Manson, at robbing you of
your housekeeper is quite dissipated by
the knowledge that you have so soon
supplied her place.”
The sensation excited in the village
by tho return of the two brides with
their respective husbands may be better
imagined than described. It gives us
pleasure to state that neither Philip nor
his sister ever had occasion to regret
the double elopement.
Kind Words Never Die.
An elderly stranger bought a copy of
the News from a newsboy and handed
him a quarter, but upon the boy’s hunt¬
ing for change the old gentleman said:
“Never mind the change, sonny;
just keep it for yourself.”
This W’as probably the first kind word
that had over been spoken to tiro home¬
less, friendless orphan boy since ’his
mother died, and it' completely over¬
came him. Brushing hastily away a
tear, he seized his benefactor’s hand and
exclaimed in a husky voice.
“ Bully for you, .Old Stick-in-the
Mud! I wonder how much reward there
is offered for you by the savings bank
you used to be president of?”— Gal¬
veston News.
j
The Bank of England.
The Bank of England was incorpor¬
ated in 10-19. It covers five acres of
ground, and employs 900 clerks. There
are no windows on the street. Light is
admitted through open courts; no mob
could take tho hank, therefore, without
cannon to batter the immense wall. The
clock in tho center of the bank has fifty
dials attached to it. Large cisterns, are
sunk in the court , and engines in perfect
order »r« always in readiness in Bade erf
five,