Newspaper Page Text
WiMtemllf HecfliLifr 8 4
VOL. II.
JOHS C. M STCKEL & CO,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
CROCKERY,
GLASSWARE,
Hohs 8 Furnishing Goods
Tin-Plate,
Stoves, »■
Hardware,
&c., <fcc.
uismcrvwsEs or
TINWARE.
No, 116 Third Street,
MACXPN. G A.
OAR KART & CURD,
DKALKBS IU
Hardware, Iron & Steel
WOODENWARE,
Carriage Material,
Cotton Gins,
Circular Saws,
SCALES,
PAINTS, OILS, &c.
Macon. a..
R. J DAVANT. J. M* We ODj Jl>
DAY ANT & WOOD,
114 Bay Street.
Savannah, Georgia
Special attention given to tale ol
COTTON,RICE St KAVAL STOfiEi
aq sins roa
DRAKE'S COTTON TIES.
Cush advances mads on oonsifnments.
W. B. MELL & CO,
Wholesale aud retail dealers in
SiU, BRIDLES, HARNESS,
Rubber and .Leather
BELTING AND PACKING,
French and American Calf Skins, Sole, Har
ness, Bridle and Patent Leather,
WHIPS and SADDLERY WARE
TRUNKS, VALISES,
Market Square, Savannah, 6a
Orders by mail Dromntiy attended to.
SID. A. PUGHSLEY, Jr.
ASENT AND SALESMAN,
-WITH
I. L. FALK & CO •»
CLOTHIERS,
425 and 427 Broome St., New York,
Cor. Congress and Whittaker Streets,
SAVANNAH, GA.
A. J. BRADDY & SOM
Wrightsvjlle, Ga
BLACKSMITH SHOP.
A pprciulty of Plantation Work. Wagons,
Bnggies, etc., made and repaired.
Plows and Plow-Stocks of all kinds, and
Bvery kind of Wood and iron Work done by
A. J. BRADDY & SON,
Wriehlsville, Ga.
WKIGHTSVILLE, GA., SATURDAY, JULY 16 , 1881 .
Summer.
Around this lovely valley rise,;
The purple liilla of Paradise;
Oh, softly on yon banks of haze
Her rosy face the summer lays;
Becalmed along the azure sky
The argosies of clondland lie,
Whose shores with many a shining rift
Far off their pearl-white peaks uplift.
Through all the long midsummer day
The meadow sides are sweet with hay;
I seek the coolest sheltered seat,
Just where the field and forest meet—
Where grow the pine trees, tall and bland,
The ancient oaks, austere and grand,
And‘friiigy roots and pebbles fret
The ripples of the rivulet.
I watch tho mowers as thoy go
Through the tall grass, a white-sleeved row;
With even strokes their scythes they swing,
In tune their merry whetstones ring.
Behind tho nimble youngsters run,
And toss the thick swaths in the sun.
The cattle graze; while warm and still
Slopes tho broad pasture, basks tho hill,
And bright, when summer breezes break,
The green wheat crinkles like a lake.
he butterfly and bumble-bee
Como to the pleasant woods with mo;
Quickly before me runs the quail,
Her chickens skulk behind tho rail;
High up tho lone wood-pigeon sits,
And the woodpecker pocks and flits;
Swoot woodland music sinks and swells,
The brooklet rings its tinkling bells.
The warming insects drone and hum,
The partridge beats his throbbing drum,
The squirrel leaps among tho houghs,
And chatters in ilia leafy house;
Tho oriole flashes by; and look—
Into tho mirror of the brook,
Where the vain bluebird trims his coat,
Two tiny leathers fall and float.
As silently, as tenderly,
The d own of peace descends on me,
Oh, tliis is peace 1 I have no need
Of friend to talk, or book to read;
A dear Companion hero abides,
Clone to my thrilling heart He hides;
The holy silence is His voice;
I lie, and listen, and rejoico.
—J. T. Trowbridge.
BURIED IN THE FLAME.
“ It is very true, Kathleen,” said Ed
gar Fitzgerald, with a quiet laugh, as
out of his large blue eyes, in which
these Blept me Spirit oi good nature, be
.« T ol fnn *.
ones of his companion. “ It is very J
, true, be repeated, I wasn’t 4l , born with a
stlver spoon in my mouth, as the saying
uq bntnotwrths sndmg, acushla, I was
blessed from the moment I saw the
bright sun with a reasonable share of
good luck. When I came into this
beautiful world, 1 . Kathleen—made r. , all „
iv the more pleasant -i i i by
,7 your presence, r
mavourneen—tho _________ cats didn ,, t mew nor
md1 wlo 5” 1 attended -* “7 on “ g », ”’ 7 advent ,.
h. my day, would pane ,n peace, and
ha the love of my heart’d be aafe m
that of the girl who was born to be m
helpmeet,, trno friend through .U mV
-
jy e »
“ Ah 1” said the beautiful Kathleen,
with a smile and a toss of her small,
splendidly'poised head, “and have you
found her yet, Mr. Fitzgerald?" .
“ By my faith, I have," said Edgar,
smiling. “She’s all that my dreams
ever painted me in the form of a woman.
I love her, Kathleen. All, if you only
knew how deep'jdown in my heart she
has buried herself!”
“ Then no angel with his trumpet
calling to judgment will ever 0 resurrect
her?”
“ I hope not, Kathleen, I hope not!
Why should the darling come out of
her home into a cold world 1”
“ To got a little air and exercise.”
“ Well answered, young lady. But
I’m afraid should the skittish, timid,
nervous creature ever get away, there’d
be no catching her again.”
“Then she’s a prisoner, Mr. Fitzger
aid ?”
“ She is, and again she is not, Kath
leen. You ought to know.”
“ I! How should I ? ”
“Misery! She want’s mo to answer
what’s impossible for a man.”
“But how can a woman go and bury
herself in a man’s heart, and then be
and not be at liberry to do as she
pleases?”
“ Women are born logicians now,” ex
claimed Fitzgerald, with a quizzical
look. I always thought when a pretty
sheleen loved a man that she didn’t care
about ranging the commons and trying
to worry poor chaps for whom she didn’t
care a ha’porth,"
“And whom do you love, and who 1
do you imagine loves you ?”
Fitzgerald laughed, and stood up.
He was a splendid specimen of young
manhood, and the girl’s eyes had a warm,
soft fire in them as she looked upon him.
“And you want me to answer your
perplexing double questions?” he asked.
“ I shouldn’t have asked it if I didn’t
think you mannerly enough to answer
me,” she returned.
“ Then I’ll answer you by repeating
one name twice. It’s Kathleen—Kath¬
leen!”
The girl turned away her head and
suppressed a sigh.
She did indeed love Fitzgerald—more
ardently, more devotedly than he sup¬
posed. But there was one whom she
loved as dearly in another sense as her
young admirer, That one was her
father. There had been a feud between
the Fitzgeralds and the Fawcetts for
generations, and until now the wooing
of a, son of the one the daughter of
the other had never happened. Kath¬
leen felt that a great gulf, an impassable
abyss, was between them, which neither
could cross.
“Kathleen," abruptly spoke',[Fitz¬
gerald, “don’t let us bandy words.
You know that I love you with all my
heart and soul; that I would lay down
my life if it would pleasure you in any
way. You know that. Now, girl, why
not speak plain. Tell me you hate me,
if you dare—love me, if you can.”
“ Edgar,” she whispered, going to his
side, and placing one of her little hands
on one of his shoulders, “you know
hat it cannot be. Wbat if I did say
that I loved you ? It would profit you
nothing Do you think our love for
each other would wash out forever the
bitter hatred—foolish as it is—that for
centuries has dividod our people?
Love? We who avo bom sworn ene¬
mies, love ? No, Edgar. I will tell you
I do love you. No one else has my
heart but you. But what avails it?
Get my father’s consent aud I will leap
into your arms. He would shoot you
down as he would a mad dog if he
thought you cared for me 1”
“I know, I know, darling, all—all
that. But I’ll pray and hope. There’s
something tells me, Kathleen, that our
souls will yet be united.”
He stooped and kissed the beautiful
girl.
“ I’ll wait and pray, too, Edgar,” she
r6 P lied » and tlien wcilfc <way in the
direction o{ her homo, thinking, diearn¬
shuddering,
* f
S£
mud «• which i . , had , , so long , made the an
cestor8 of botU generations uncompro
mising enemies> placed them, as the
id thought and ofteu said> s0 farapaH 1
hat , fch ,, f e , ”° . bo P° °/ . ^ ace
b « lng declar , ° d between ^families.
llius tho young man mused as he lav
• his , . , ... tho windows of ... tho
in utHij ’ room in
which , . . it looking ... out the
was upon 1
, homestead , . of . the ,, „ Fawcetts—a ,,, quarter
of . mil. distant—the old mi and
ivJ . covcre d atone tone, in which Hath
, tll0 „ nl ht „ o( |ami ,
,, , „, d L ta her d
f7 dells , • 6 with S.T the eh man of all flower-empeted the world she ,
cared mo:d * or -
And whiIe Edgar rested on his couoh
wide awake, pondering on tho crosses
of iove > chamber was suddenly
illuminated with n glaring, red light,
leaping from his cot ho ran to tho
window. A single glance informed him
that the homestead of the enemies of
his family was in flames,
“ My God! ” he cried, as ho tumbled
into his clothing and rushed out of the
building, “ Kathleen is in peril. I will
save her, though I die for it.”
With the speed of the antelope he ran
across the intervening space. He was
the first to arrive.
“Ha!” he muttered, “ these insane
people will think I have applied the
torch to their house. Fools! fools!"
A window opened in the second story,
and the young Kathleen looked out.
She recognized the presence of her
lover.
“ Edgar,” she cried in a low, quiet
voice, “do not fear for me. The fire
jg below. Go to the window that looks
out on the garden, and breakthrough
it. It reaches to a large pantry. Open
the door opposite that window and you
will there find my father. He is a heavy
sleeper. Remove him before the smoke
or the flames reach him. God bless
you, darling. When you have him
clear from danger call me! ”
The building was old, and the old
timber in it dry as tinder. Before Ed
gar Fitzgerald could reach the window
indicated by the intrepid Kathleen the
flames, with a loud roar, swept up the
lower corridor and were licking at the
panels of the door behind which Mr.
Fawcett was reposing, of course uncon¬
scious of danger.
Edgar leaped through the window.
On opening the entrance opposite he
ran to the bed in which the old gentle¬
man was. Not stopping to awaken him,
Edgar raised him in his strong arms and
retreated as he had entered.
He was not a moment too soon. As
he retired long forks of flame had eaten
their way through the closed door on
the corridor, and were already dancing
with the curtains that inclosed the old
fashioned bedstead.
Fitzgerald ran to a summer-house in
the garden, and there placed his charge
on a long bench. There ho slept as
soundly as if he had not been removed
from his comfortable mattress of down.
“Now for Kathleen,” muttered the
lover. “ Perhaps she’s in danger. My
God, I hear the flames in the lower hall!
x 8ee th ey have run tho stail .
where Kathleen is!”
The thought and sight
him.
He rushed to the front of the old
building.
There he found a number of the
Fawcett faction. These, on seeing him,
began to cry out that he must have, in
revenge, fired tho house.
“Fools 1” he hoarsely shouted,
not stand there lowering at me.
me to save the people within, and then
do with me as you will. Kathleen !
Kathleen 1”
There was no response to his cry.
“My God!” he groaned, “she will
perish—perhaps has already been de¬
stroyed ! Help! Help me, men!”
His quick eye caught a ladder lying
near tho barn.
He run to it, and drugging it he
brought it to the front of the house, and
by main strength succeeded iu
it against the window from which his
idol had addressed him.
In a moment ho had mounted
ladder.
On gaining tho window he leaped into
the room in which Kathleen slept.
When he had disappeared one or two
of the Fawcett faction ran toward tho
ladder, crying:
“Let’s throw this down, and let
villain perish in the flames of his own
making.” .
But three or four of the peasant
women, who had been attracted by tlie
“burning,” protested, and drove the
q away' w 4As *>$
hous#.
“Kathleen! Kathleen!” again cried
Fitzgerald,as he pushed his way through
a dense volume of smoko that camo up
from below. “Kathleen! Kathleen!
my darling!” he groaned, “where are
you? Speak to me, my love.”
She heard him not.
The young lover pushed toward the
center of the chamber. His feet
stumbied over some object, and he
would liavo pitched forward if his breast
had not struck against a bedpost. He
stooped, and with a cry of joy followed
by one of terror, he touched tho pros¬
trate, insensible form of his Kathleen.
He raised her in his arms and stag¬
gered toward the window.
“ I have her—I have her,” he shouted.
Regaining the ladder with his precious
burden in his arms he was about to de¬
scend when a sheet of flame leaped from
the window, and struck him fairly in the
face.
“Oh, God! save me,” ho groaned.
“ Shield her.”
Ho reached the ground. Kathleen
was unconscious but unhurt.
The women gathered around her and
carried her to a place of safety.
One or two of the more humane of the
men, who had witnessed the heroic con¬
duct of Fitzgerald, now came forward
to assist him.
These noticed that his face was black
and burned to a crisp.
“Oh, help, help me!” he moaned.
“ Will some one give a hand. I am
blind. The fire Las melted my eyes out
of their sockets.”
Again the men looked in his face,
Yes, the young giant, like Samson, was
harmless now. He was, as he said, de¬
prived of sight.
The poor fellow was taken to his
home. There a physician was sum¬
moned who dressed his wounds.
He examined his eyes and shook his
head gravely. Edgar Fitzgerald, he
said, would never see God’s light again.
For many weeks he was confined to
his room, but his constant companion
and nurse was Kathleen, who insisted,
in order that she might the better attend
on her father’s savior, they should be
married.
Edgar demurred. He would be a
constant burden to her, he pleaded.
“Kathleen, darling,” he whispered,
“ do not sacrifice your young life. I am
content to know that I saved you from
a terrible death. That will be my solace
through all my dark future.”
“No, Edgar,” she said, firmly, yet
gently; “ you saved the lives of my
father and myself, and they are yours
henceforth. Father oonsen ts. The fend
is buried in the ruins of the lost home
Now let us live and die together. Ed-
gar, it is not so long since you said you
would willingly lay down your life for
me. You’ve done something more worthy
—you have lost light, and that is the best
of all life, for my sake.”
They were married, and in all Meath
there was not a more loving or more
beautiful wife than Kathleen Fitzgerald,
who always insisted that her husband was
not blind—for he could see the world
always through her loving eyes.
A Dozen Waterspouts in One Day.
A gentleman who recently arrived in
New York in the steamer Aloo has the
following story to tell: At about
half-past 2 o’clock one afternoon Cap¬
tain Williams and a number of the
officers, crew and passengers were aston¬
ished by the appearance of a waterspout,
I have seen this remarkable phenomonon
before, but never on such a gigantic
scale. The first one we saw was about six
miles away. A stream of water seemed
to rise from the level of tho ocean, and
at the same time another stream de¬
scended from the heavens and depended
from a dark raincloud like tpgreat icicle.
Tho two streams met about midway
between sky and water, and then began
to move rapidly to the eastward. The
base of the waterspout appeared to be
nearly a quarter of a mile wide, and
then it tapered toward the middle into an
almost imperceptible line. Suddenly it
broke, and there was a mighty heaving
and tumbling about of the waters in the
vicinity. We saw twelve spouts that
afternoon during some heavy rain
squalls. At one time I saw four of them
at once. They looked like the lofty
spires of a cathedral. Through our
glasses we could see that the tops of the
spouts were lost in the clouds. It is a
scientific fact that the discharge of a
cannon in the neighborhood will al¬
ways cause these water columns to
break. The passengers insisted that
tho discharge of a pistol would
create sufficient vibration in the air to
destrov a spout Which was a mile away,
i iosbou
the spout. At the second shot it bx - oke.
I don’t know whether it was the resu! t
of tho firing or not, but at least it is a
remarkable coincidence. Every time a
spout burst, the top part of it seemed
to vanish into vapor, but the under
part would rock the sea for miles, and
our vessel experienced tho violent ef¬
fects. In fact, all that afternoon the
water was disturbed. Several times it
was thought avo would have to change
our course, but the spouts did not ap¬
proach too near for safety.
How to Detect Adulterated Coffee.
Ground coffee affords a field for adul¬
teration, aud for this purpose chiccory
carrots, caramel, date seeds, etc., are
the substances most commonly used.
The beans have of late years been skill¬
fully imitated, but as coffee is mostly
purchased in tho ground condition, the
chief point for the consumer is to be
able to form some idea as to the charac¬
ter of the latter article, and the follow¬
ing are a few simple and reliable tests:
Take a little of the coffee and press it
between the fingers, or give it a squeeze
in the paper iu which it is bought; if
genuine, it will not form a coherent
mass, as coffee grains are hard aud do
not readily adhere to eacli other; but
if the grains stick to each othor and
form a sort of “ cake,” we may be pretty
sure of adulteration in tho shape of
chiccory, for the grains of chiccory
aro softer and more open, and adhere
without difficulty when squeezed.
Again, if we place a few grains in
a saucer and moisten them with
a little cold wator, chiccory will
very quickly become soft like bread
crumbs, while coffeo will take a long
time to soften. A third test: Take a
wineglass or a tumblerful of water and
gently drop a pinch of the ground cof¬
fee on the surface of the water without
stirring or agitating; genuine coffee
will float for some time, whilst chiccory
or any other soft root will soon sink;
and chiccory or caramel will cause a
yellowish or brownish color to diffuse
rapidly through the water, while pure
coffee will give no sensible tint under
such circumstances for a considerable
length of time. “ Coffee mixtures ” or
“ coffee improvers ” should be avoided.
They seldom consist of anything but
chiccory and caramel. “French cof¬
fee,” so widely used at present, is gen¬
erally ground coffee, the beans of which
have been roasted with a certain amount
of sugar, which, coating over the bean,
has retained more of the original aroma
than in ordinary coffee, but this, of
course, at the expense of the reduced
percentage of coffee due to the presence
of the caramel .—The Sanitarian.
NO. 9.
FOB THE FARM AND HOME.
Said to Prevent Scabby Potatoes.
In an exchange a writer recommends
the use of leaves as an assistance in the
growing of smooth-skinned potatoes.
The result of experiments on one acre
of land, three-quarters of which was
manured in the usual way, and one
quarter with forest leaves, which had
been used for banking his house the
previous winter, and which had been
itPftwn Into his bnbnyardas an absorbent
for his cow-stable. The last quarter of
an acre had three times as many flowers
as the rest of the piece, and the seed
balls formed and grew after the fashion
of years ago. When he dug the pota¬
toes a more striking difference was ap¬
parent. While three-quarters of the
piece yielded scabby, rough potatoes of
all sizes, the last quarter gave out nice,
smooth potatoes much more than usual
size.
Rhubarb Culture.
It is sometimes called “ pie plant,”
and is now much used as a substitute
in early spring for fruit, being generally
eaten in the shape of pies and tarts. It
is also a first-rate substitute for apple
sauce, when cut in small pieces and
stewed, when it may be sweetened with
good molasses, sugar, or both. It is
very healthy at any time, on account of
its gentle action on the liver. It can
also be canned and kept all winter, when
it cannot bo bad in the market. The
two best varieties are Myatt’s Lineaus
and the Victoria. The former is early
of very large size and very tender; the
latter matures later, and is also large
and good. The best time for plauting
is fall. Tho ground should be plowed
very deep, first having been well ma¬
nured, for that is the grand secret of
obtaining large stalks; then har¬
row smooth, and take a plow
and draw furrows five feet apart;
take a spade or hoe. and put
tho sets also about five feet
apart in the row, deep enough to give
.four .inches ..of dart-them,
dbe scds 8 hould not contain more than
one or two good buds. When all is
done, put about two or three good
shovelfuls of any good manure over and
around where the set is. In the spring,
when the plauts are about six or eight
inches high, hoe around them, for it
must be kept clean of weeds and the
ground loose. No stalks should be
pulled the first year, unless there is a
very strong growth, and then sparingly.
Tho second year will yield a full crop.
After tho patch has been in bearing
three or four years, it will be well to
take a strong spade, dig the ground
away on one side, and cut about one
half of the plant, roots and all, away,
as there will be too many eyes by that
time, causing the stocks to be thick
and spindling. Of the part cut away,
the best eye3 sliould be selected for a
new planting. With good culture and
plenty of manure in the fall, there is no
trouble to raise giant rhubarb, and it
pays well for the trouble, especially as
it brings a little money early in the
spring, when one is generally in used of
some small change.
Household Hints,
To Cleanse Blankets.— Put two
largo tablespoonfuls of borax and a pint
bowl of soft-soap into a tub of cold
water. When dissolved put iu a pair of
blankets and let them remain over
night. Next day rub them out and
rinse thoroughly in two waters and
hang them up to dry. Do not wring
them.
Bleaching Flannels. —A solution of
one and one-quarter of a pound of white
soap and three-eighths of au ounce of
spirits of ammonia, dissolved in twelve
gallons of soft water, will impart a beau¬
tiful and lasting whiteness to any flan¬
nels dipped in it, no matter how yellow
they have been previous to their im¬
mersion. After being well stirred
round for a short time the articles
should be taken out and well washed iu
clean, cold water.
To Make Meat Tender. —If the fact
can be demonstrated to a cook that
meat can be made tender by softening
the fibers with the action of a little
vinegar there will be no reason why she
should send a tough steak to the table.
If she can be convinced that it is better
to turn it over on a plate containing a
little vinegar, salad oil and pepper four
cr five times in a couple of hours, in¬
stead of trying to make it tender by
battering it with a rolling pin or cleaver,
and so forcing out all its juices, sho
must be obstinate indeed if sbo prefers
the latter method, and the sooner her
services aro dispensed with the better
for the temper and stomach of her em¬
ployer.