Newspaper Page Text
fflie Ittemllf Recorkt
VOL. II.
ioi c. m sum & eo.
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
CROCKERY,
GLASSWARE,
House Furnishing Goods
Tin«3Plate,
Stoves,
Hardware,
<fcc., &c.
MAinrTAOnmns or
TINWARE.
No. I 16 Third Stre©l,
MACON. GA.
CARHART & CURD,
BSALZBS »
Hardware, Iron & Steel .<
WOODENWARE,
Carriage Material,
Cotton Gins,
Circular Saws,
SCALES,
»
PAINTS, OILS, &c.
Macon. On
B. J. DAT ANT. J. S- WCOD, JIl
DAY ANT & WOOD,
a
1X4 H»y Street.
Savannah, Georgia
Special attention given to tale ol
COTTON, RICES HAVAL STORES
AGENTS TOK
DRAKE’S COTTON TIES,
Cash aflvanee* made on oonfignmenta.
W. B. MELL & CO.,
Wholesale and retail dealers in
SADDLES, BRIDLES, HARNESS,
Rubber and Leather
BELTING AND PACKING,
French and American Cali Skins, Sole, Har¬
ness, Bridle and Patent Leather,
WHIPS and SADDLERY WARE
TRUNKS, VALISES,
Market Square, Savannah, 6a
Orders bv mail Dromotly attended to*
SID. A. PUGHSLEY, Jr.
A GHENT AND SALESMAN,
-with
I. L. FALK & CO M
CLOTHIERS,
425 and 427 Broome St„ New York,
Cor. Congress and Whittaker Streets,
SAVANNAH. OA.
A. J. BRADDY & SON
Wrightsviixe, Ga.
BLACKSMITH SHOP.
A specialty of Plantation Work. Wagons,
Buggies, etc., made and repaired.
Plows and Plow-Stocks of nil kinds, and
•very kind of Wood and iron Work done by
A. J. BRADDY & SON,
Wrightsville, Ga.
WRIGHTSVILLE, CIA., SATURDAY, JUNE 18, 1881.
Comfort One Another.
Comfort one another;
For the way is growing dreary,
The feet aro often weary,
And the heart is very sad.
There is heavy burden-hearing,
When it seems that none aro earing,
And we half forget that ever we were glad.
Comfort one another;
With the hand-clasp close and tender,
With tho sweetness love can render,
And the looks of friendly eyes.
Do not wait With g*sce unspoken.
While life’s daily bread is broken,
Gentle speech is oft liko manna from the skies.
Comfort one another;
There are words of music ringing
Down the ages, sweet as singing
Of the happy choirs above.
Ransomed saint and mighty angel,
Lift the grand deop-voiced evangel,
Where forever they aro praising the Eternal
Love. I
Comfort ono another;
By tho hope of Him who sought ns
In our peril—Him who bought us,
Paying with His precious blood;
By the faith that will not alter,
Trusting strength that shall not falter,
Leaning on tho One Divinely Good.
Comfort one another;
Let the grave-glo^m lie behind you,
While the Spirit’s words remind you
Of tho youth beyond the tomb.
Where no more is pain or parting,
Fever’s flush or tear-drop starting,
But the presence of the Lord, and for all His
people room. —Mrs.
Margaret E. Sangster.
DISENCHANTED.
What a lovely picture she made, with
the warm flush of the sanset light all
around her!—a tall, slender creature,
with grace in every motion; with her
small head so royally poised on the
fair, white throat, and its bright hair
crowning it like a golden glory; with
her clear complexion of fine pale olive
and a delicious pink tint, like the color
of an oleander in her satiny cheeks and
with her lovely dark-brown eyes, soft as
velvet.
And Ross Wycherly was madly in love
with her, and only waiting in feverish
impatience for the time when he might
dare tell her.
From a luxurious cushioned-chair at
the same window where Jessica was
standing in the sunset-glory Airs. Rob¬
erts, her aunt, and only living female
relative, looked coldly at her.
“ I am tired of the delay in the accom¬
plishment of your plans, Jessie^. You
promised me you would settle them to
my satisfaction in three months at
furthest.”
Jessica turned away from tho lace
draped window, and indolently seated
herself in a gold-colored plush chair,
that suited her lovely beauty as a throne
does a queen. Then she laughed, one
of her low, delicious little laughs, that,
while Ross Wycherly swore it was the
sweetest music in all the world, never
failed to irritate Aunt Theodosia.
“I don’t see what there is to be
amused at,” she said, fretfully. “I am
sure if you had all the frightful expense
on your hands that I have assumed in
taking this big, handsome house, fully
furnished, wholly for your opportunity
to secure Ross—”
Jessica interrupted her by a sudden,
little haughty motion of her head.
“Spare me the customary recital of
your household annoyance, auntie, You
are impatient—too impatient. You
don’t suppose I can tell Mr. Wycherly
that my Aunt Roberts thinks it high
time he should propose because she finds
her funds running alarmingly low ?”
“Don’t talk like an idiot, Jessica!”
“ But that is the way you feel about
it You must be reasonable as I am. I
told you I would guarantee to bring Mr.
Wycherly to my feet in three months’
time, if you would adopt the role of the
wealthy, elderly lady, and I your heiress
niece. You have done it so far, and so
have I. In less than a week I will tell
you I am the betrothed wife of the
richest, handsomest man in the State,
the prospective mistress of Wycherly
Park.”
Mrs. Roberts caught a spark from the
! girl’s quiet enthusiasm.
“Do you really think so, Jessica?
Mistress of Wycherly Park—it doesn’t
seem possible 1 It means so much for
you—luxury and elegance, riches
unlimited all the rest of your life, and
a stated income to me for all I have
done for you. It has cost me thou¬
sands of dollars, Jessica.”
“I suppose it has,” she answered,
coolly. “ But you may set your heart
at rest. Ross Wycherly is as desperately
in love with mo as ever man was with
woman, and I might have had him at
my feet weeks ago, only that I would
not permit him to think I could be so
lightly won. Wait another week,
auntie: you’ll see.”
And she smiled so bewitchingly,
showing her little milk-white teeth,
that it was a pity her lover was not there
to see her.
The next morning a letter was handed
her, addressed in, an illiterate scrag
gling hand to Miss Jessica Heath, that
brought the scarlet blushes to her
cheeks, and made her bite her lovely
scarlet lips angrily.
“Again,” she thought, as she tore it
open impatiently. “What can be the
matter now? It seems as if Margaret
takes pleasure in thrusting herself upon
me on every occasion.”
And the displeasure in her face did
not lessen when she read the ill-spelled,
ill-written, but urgent note.
“Dear Jessie,” it said, “Mother is
much worse, and you must come right
away. If you don’t I will have to send
her to you and Aunt Doshy. You
haven’t paid your share of expenses for
four months. Please bring it; we are
in need of it. Margaret.”
“It is just Margaret over again, to
send for me to come under the one
threat she knows will only take me to
her. And I shall have to take the
twenty dollars I have * scrimped out’ to
buy thoso lovely pink-and-bluo silk
stockings, to keep her mouth shut.
Just suppose if she should send mother
here now, of all times! I’d better take
the first train to Hillborongh and see
what is the matter. And I was to drive
with Mr. Wycherly to-night, too! ”
She looked' at the cuckoo clock high
up on the wall. She had just time, and
none to spare, to dress and catch the
train, and write a message of apology
and explanation to Ross Wycherly, to
be delivered by a servant after she had
gone.
But, by some curious fatality, Mr.
Wycherly called at the house before the
careless servant had delivered the note,
and the maid who had answered his
summons at the door very frankly told
him where Miss Heath had gone—to
Hillborough, to Mrs. Beden’s
He looked, as he felt, very much dis¬
appointed.
“ How unfortunate! I suppose she
left some special message for me ? Ah,
I thought so, ho added, ms Handsome
face lighting with pleasure as the tardy
servant hearing his voico stepped up
with his note, the very contact with
which sent delightful thrills all along
his veins.
It was an exquisite little message, in
Jessica’s sweetest style, and most charm¬
ingly vague as to her going and destina¬
tion, but promised to be home by the
latest train that same evening, and bade
him not forget her for a few hours.
He read the note as though it had
been written by angel hands, and he
was w’onderfully made worthy to re¬
ceive it, and put it reverently away in
his vest pocket, and then made up his
mind to take the next train for Hill
borough and surprise his darling and
escort her home.
“It will please her so, my lovely,
bright-eyed Jessie! I can see her face
light up, in imagination, as it will when
I walk in this Mrs. Belden’s parlor and
take her by surprise. And then, when
I am bringing her home and have her
all to myself, I will tell her what she
must already know—how madly I love
her, and how eager I am to have her for
my wife—my beautiful, peerless queen!”
For Mr. Ross Wycherly was desper¬
ately in love, and knew how to be a
most gallant, devoted, impatient lover.
Three hours after Jessica had entered
the front door of Mrs. Belden’s house
and been escorted to the little back
room that served as a parlor and sitting
room during the season when fires were
necessary, Mr. Wycherly stopped at the
front gate of the same house, piloted by
an ambitious young urchin, who grin¬
ned with satisfaction at the quarter he
received for his services.
“That ’ere’s the house—Mrs. Bel¬ !
den’s. I know ’em all—Jim and Gus !
.
and little Mag, and the fcrazy old gran ’-1
mother. Ye better pile right in, ’cause
that ’ere door-bell’s broke.”
Wycherly, conscious of a feeling of I
astonishment as to what could have
brought his lady-love to a place so for
lorn and desolate as this, suddenly un
derstood as he heard young Tim’s
words
“ She has come on an errand of mercy
and charity, my darling I When she is |
my wife she shall have no limit to her ;
mercy and benevolent fund; and I love;
her better than ever for this evidence of
her quiet goodness so carefully hidden
from me.”
He went up through the shabby front
yard and on the little jiorch, to find that
the boy’s prophesy regarding the door
bell was true. It was indeed silent and
useless, nor did one, or two or three
knocks on the door bring any answer.
“1 suppose I may as well go in,” he
thought.
And so ho tried the door-knob, and
found it readily admitted him into a for
lom little hall, dim and dusty, from
which a door, standing open, entered
hito a plain-furnished, chilly little
room that was evidently the parlor.
. bring \ T P at the Wycherly parlor door resignedly failing to
any one sat
down to wait until some one did come;
and five minutes afterward he heard the
emphatic opening and closing of dis¬
tant doors, and then the sound of foot¬
steps in the room directly overhead,
between which room and the one he oc
cupied was an open stove-hole in the
ceiling, down which came a voice sharp,
vexatious, resolute, that pronounced the
name of his beloved.
“ I want to know what you’re going
to do about it, Jessica. Two dollars
and a half a week for her keep and
clothes is pittance enough when it
comes regularly, but when it don’t come
at all—well, I can’t stand it no longer!
She’s your mother as well as mine, and
if I have all the trouble you’ve got to
pay for her board!”
If a thunderbolt had fallen at Wych
erly’s feet he would not have been more
astonished.
Jessica’s low, silver-sweet voice an¬
swered :
“ She must be quite useful to you,
Margaret. She can sew and mend,
when she’s not very bad—and really, it
is a great expense, ten dollars a month
year in and year out.”
“A great expense to you, Jessica
Heath, living in luxury and hav¬
ing all in the world you want! And
your own mother suffering for nourish¬
ing food and the jellies the doctors say
she must have.”
“ That’s nonsense! Doctors always
do older the mos ridiculous extrava¬
gances, and mother can do 'without
them. It’s a perfect nuisance, at the
best; if she’d die we’d all be better
off!”
Wycherly arose from his chair, a look
of agony on his face, a feeling in his
heart as if all the world were crumbling
over his head.
“I thank God I haven’t got your
heart in my body!” Margaret Belden
said. “Ever sence you was a child
you’ve been selfish and heartless—you’d
always get the best agoin’, no matter
who went without. And now, for five
years, ever sence Aunt Doshy took you
and has brung you up like herseh,
you’ve been worse’n ever. Go your
gait, Jessica Heath, and let yonr poor,
crazy old mother, who lost her senses
in bringing you into the world, die, or
starve, or suffer, as you choose 1”
And Wycherly distinctly heard Jes¬
sica’s low, sarcastic laugh.
“ Your too homely to be dramatic,
Margaret. Leave that to me; and don’t
envy my worldly prosperity, when yon
see that poor and in debt everywhere, as
auntie and I are. we have, nevertheless,
contrived to secure a glorious future for
myself. I am to marry one of the rich¬
est men in the State, for all I am so
mean, and treacherous, and heartless,
and selfish as you say!”
Somehow Wycherly got out of the
house as unsuspected as he got in;
but what an awful difference in the
man! Hope, love, joy, trust—all had
gone crashing down under the ruin of
his idol, and from henceforth his one
duty was to bear his pitiful pain until
disciplined into thankfulness that the
blow had not come later.
At home Jessica Heath found a note
awaiting her on her dressing-table from
Boss Wycherly, and her beautiful face
wore a proud smile as she opened it.
When she finished the page she threw
herself upon the lounge, and cried and
cursed by turns at the same hour that
Margaret Belden opened a letter that
contained a hundred-dollar bill for Mrs.
Heath’s sole use—a letter that was un
da ted, unsigned. And while Mrs
Roberts retired .5 to deepest, poverty
IS , lamenting her mad
foll J’ and -Tessica Heath was glad to do
anything to earn her daily bread-a
wan > wora > soured woman—Ross Wych
^ was abroad > hourl Y Sowing more
coontent °d and lla IW- and ready to be
consoled by a fair girl he had met in
la belle Franco.
The slang word « crack >. (as> a
.< crack .. regiment) ifi a corruption of
. crep0; >. to boast of . It is English
university slang, and was in common
use in Shakespeare’s time,
---- ■
The young lady in the novel who
“ trippad lightly down the stairs ” to
meet her lover used court plaster for
her injuries.
A New Fashion of Sleeping.
The Chicago Tribune lately 'contained
a lengthy article on the new fashion
which is rapidly coming into vogue of
husbands and wives occupying separate
beds. The practice is said to be an
European one, and is being received in
New York with great favor. It has
long been held by physicians that the
habit of two persons occupying the
saiqj sleeping couch T^as a vicion,;. ne,,
as the superior magnetism of one would
draw the vitality out of the other ; and
while one would awake in the morning
refreshed with new energy, the other
Would be enervated and listless and
hardly able to drag the body around
during the day. Acting upon this
European theory it is supposed that
the dealers in beds and bedding have
secretly organized a boom in their busi¬
ness, and knowing how a fashion will
be followed by a people they are pre¬
paring for a season of prosperity. But,
be this as it may, there is little doubt
that the fashion of sleeping singly
has its good as well as bad points, and
it will be hailed with delight by those
husbands whose wives are troubled
with charity feet. It will also come as
a sweet boon to the tired wife whose
husband is a beautiful dreamer and
habitually kicks her out of bed as he
yells: “I’ll sell two thousand March at
six seven-eighths.” But on the rich
old husband, whoso young wife is .kept
awake by his asthma, and who will
avail herself of the new fashion for a
night of undisturbed repose, it will fall
with a leaden hand, and his supply of
magnetism being cut oil' he will droop
and die and leave his cash so much the
sooner. There are, as we said, many
good features which will recommend
themselves to different people upon
reflection. Acting upon the new fash¬
ion it is said that landlords are already
providing the bridal chambers in their
hotels with two beds, thus aiming to
leave nothing undone that will be con¬
ducive to the comfort of guests. Upon
the whole the new fashion is one pos¬
sessed of great merit.— Peck's Sun.
The “ Boss ” System Among Esqui¬
maux Bogs.
There is always one bully in every
team, who gets all the choice bits that
are stolen by the others, and generally
manages to keep fat, no mattcr’how
short they are of provisions. He waits
for the others to make the raid, and
then stands on the outside to take it
away from them. These bullies are in
several grades. There is the chief, of
whom all are afraid, and then there is
the next in rank, of whom all are afraid
but the chief; a third, of whom all are
afraid but the two, and so on down.
Sometimes the food is cut into small
pieces and thrown out upon the ice for
all to help themselves, and then there
is a rough-and-tumble fight, and snarl¬
ing and growling, as if a whole cage of
hyenas had broken loose. But here the
bullies have no advantage ; indeed, the
advantage is with the small, lively fel¬
lows that slip in and get the meat while
the big ones are fighting. When a dog
manages to steal a piece of meat he has
a lively time of it, for soon every dog in
camp is after him, and he has to eat it
on the run, if at all, headed off at every
turn by one of the bullies, and whining
and choking at the same time. It cer¬
tainly is one of the most comical exhibi¬
tions ever witnesse^.— Scribner.
Origin ol' “Yankee.”
The origin of the word Yankee is now
difficult to trace. The old spelling was
Yankey. Some have said that it was
coined in Europe and used to designate
all persons in the American colonies.
Others have argued that it could be
traced to the Indians in their attempts
to pronounce English, and called them
Yamghees. The learned Dr. Thatcher
declares it was first used by one Jona
han Hastings, a farmer of Cambridge,
Mass., as a cant word to express excel¬
lence, as a Yankee good house or
Yankee good cider—just as the people
of Louisiana, when recommending any
article for sale at New Orleans, declare
it is real Creole butter or Creole eggs.
At any rate the word Yankee has be¬
come a famous word, and while our
Southern brethren point indiscriminate¬
ly to all Northerners as Yankees, never¬
theless the genuine Yankee will continue
to Vie found “down-East,” where he
was first discovered. When he is found
in any other quarter of the country he
may be recognized, but he is away from
home .—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
The truly great and good, in affliction,
bear a countenance more princely than
they are wont; for it is the temper
tho highest hearts, like the palm tree,
to strive most upward when it is
burdened. *
NO . 5.
Light on the Path.
Oil, mourner, making thy piteous moan,
“ What shall I do ? How can I go
Down through tho desolate days alona?”
Wait! for the righteous light is sown; j
Wait, and the dawn shall grow.
Ono by one come tho desolate days;
It is only to-day that toucheth thee,
Look straight before thoo ! somo guiding rays
Shine now on the path. Go on witli praise
In the light that tliou canst see.
■Washington (Hidden
PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS.
A striking affair—A prize-fight.
A paying business—The cashier’s.
It was a dentist who complained in
the country that a wasp has only one
tooth.
There is a great deal of human nature
in a crab. Pick one up the wrong way
and see.
The man who stole a glance has not
yet been arrested, although his atten
tion was arrested when he stole the
glance.
A member of the Colorado legislature
in addressing that august body began:
“My fellow-statesmen.” His bill passed
unanimously.
There is a five-legged mule in Mis¬
souri. This seems to bo adding insult
to injury, as well as a leg to the mule.—
Detroit Pree Press.
When you buy peanuti, that’s a quart.
When you pay for them, that’s a
quarter. And when you have disposed
of them, that’s a quartette.
It is considered by M. Perisse that it
s almost certain that the ancient Egyp¬
tians and Phcenicians used steel, if, in¬
deed, they did not make it.
Six Jerseymen have banded together
to raise 1,000,000 watermelons for this
year’s market, and yet we talk about the
wickedness of Nihilist conspiracies.
.Tones: “I see Smith has taken to
riding a bicycle. What on earth is he
doing that for?” Robinson: “Oli, a
very simple reason—to prevent Mrs.
Smith from going with him !”
A young Iowa farmer writes to his
friends in the East, who have been
urging him to marry, that he cannot
keep a wife on “ thin wind and pond
water and sleeping on a rail fence.”
A meditative man was roaming
through an anatomical museum and came
across the skeleton of a donkey. “ Ah,’
he said, in reverential awe, as he adjusted
his green spectacles, “we are indeed
fearfully and wonderfully made.”
A society lias been organized in New
York city having for its object the pre¬
vention of street accidents. This will
be blessed news for tho man who
spends most of his time getting on and
sliding off the discarded banana peel.
They had been engaged to be married
fifteen years, and still he had not mus¬
tered up resolution enough to ask her to
name the happy day. One time he called
in a particularly spoony frame of mind,
and asked her to sing him something
tender and touching, something that
would “ move ” him. She sat down at
the piano and sang, “Darling, I am
growing old.”
A queer thing ; Jones says that there
is one thing about which he and his
wife can never agree. When he says a
woman is homely, Mrs. Jones always
secs something interesting about her,
and when he speaks of another as pretty,
his helpmate will inevitably declare
that she is positively ugly, or at least
remark that she cannot for her part see
where people’s eyes are. Greater phil¬
osophers than Jones have pondered
over this same problem during their
whole lives and died at last leaving it
unsolved .—Boston Transcript.
A Revolution in Time.
George H. Heafford, General Eastern
passenger agent of the Bee line, is try¬
ing an experiment for which he gives
his reasons. He issues a new time card
on the system adopted in siderial
clocks, and asks the public: “ Wliafc do
yon think of the schemo ?” In his ex¬
planation he says that certain progres¬
sive people have urged the necessity of
making a change in the present mode
of recording the hour of the day. In¬
stead of having two 12 o’clocks during
twenty-four hours, it is proposed to
number the hours from 1 to 2-1, and do
away with the a. m.’s and r.M.’s. For
instance: Suppose the new method of
reckoning time commenced at midnight,
2 o’clock in the morning would be the
same as now, but 2 o’clock in the after¬
noon would be 14 o’clock under the new
system. A train leaving by the new
time-table, New York for St. Louis at
18 o'clock, deducting twelve from that
number, brings back the figure to 6
o'clock, the shedule of time at present
in u«o.— Chicago Times.