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YOL. II.
JOBS C. M SYCKEL & CO,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers In
CROCKERY,
GLASSWARE i
Bouse Furnishing Goods
10? t i
Stoves,
Hardware,
<fcc., &c.
uxvrwmmor
TINWARE.
No. 116 Third Street,
MACON. GA.
___ _
OARHART & CURD,
DEALEBB IB
Hardware, Iron & Steel
WOODENWARE,
Carriage Material,
Cotton Gina,
Circular Saws
BOALES,
t
PAINTS, OILS, &c.
Macon. Ga
U. J DAVAHT. J. B- WOOD, JIl
DAY ANT & WOOD,
1X4 Street,
Savannah, Georgia
Special attention given to tale oi
C0TT0N.RICE &HAVAL STORES
AGENTS FOB
DRAKES COTTON TIES,
Cash advances made on consignments.
W. B. MELL & CO.,
Wholesale and retail dealers in
SADDLES, BRIDLES, HARNESS,
Rubber and .Leather
BELTING AND PACKINC r
Freueh and American Calf Sldns, Sole, Har.
ness, Bridle and Patent Leather,
WHIPS AND SADDLERY WARE
THUNKS, VALISES,
tfarbet Square, Savannah, Ga
Orders by mail nromntly attended to.
A. J. BRADDY & SON
Whightsville, Ga.
BLACKSMITH SHOP.
Buggies, A fpeciaHy of Plantation Work. Wagon*,
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,
Wrightsvilie, Ga.
SID. h. PUGHSLEY, Jr.
*
A SENT AND SALESMAN,
—WITH
I. L. FALK & CO.,
clothiers;
425 and 427 Broome St., New York,
Cor. Congreia and Whittaker Street*,
BAVAJNNAH, OA.
WEIGHTSYILLE, GA., SATURDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1881.
Pettishness.
My mind was ruffled with small cares to-day,
And I said pettish words, and did not keep
Long suffering patience well; andnow how deep
My trouble for this sin! In vain I weep
For foolish words I never can unsay.
Yet not in vain, oh, surely not in vain!
This sorrow must compel me to take heed;
And surely I shall learn how much I need
Thy constant strength my own to supersede,
And all my thoughts to patience to constrain.
Yes, I shall learn at last, though I neglect
Day aid after day, thaif^aiwayn4.-' to seek my help from thee;
Oh, mo, hleci i *
This gentle-heartedness; and oh correct
Whatover else of sin thou secst in me!
L.A. URELLA.
AN ITALIAN LOVE STOBT.
In spite of the dense fog that over¬
hung the snug little harbor of Sorrento,
early one midsummer morning, a score
of men were busily engaged preparing
their boats for trips to the neighboring
towns, while as many fishermen were
drawing their well-filled nets that had
been spread overnight. Soon Father
Curato, the worthy priest of Sorrento,
stepped into one of the boats and re¬
quested to be rowed to Capri as speed¬
ily as possible.
“ Here comes another passenger,”
was the boatman’s reply, as a young
girl, with a large bundle under her arm,
hurried along one of the rugged paths
leading to the water, and waved a red
cotton handkerchief to attract attention.
“ Oh, it is Laurella 1” exclaimed the
priest, with a kindly smile.
“Good-day, la Rabbiata,” cried a
youth from a boat near by, with a mock¬
ing laugh.
Tho girl’s eyes flashed angrily, and
she drew herself up with proud dignity.
“ Are you going with us to Capri,
Laurella?” asked the priest.
“ If tho father does not object,” was
the humble reply.
“ You must ask Antonino; ho owns
his boa,**”
“ This is all the money I have,” said
the girl, holding out a small coin.
“Keep it; you need it more than I
do,” returned Antonino, while he moved
a couple of baskets of oranges to make
room for her.
“ I do not choose to travel for noth¬
ing,” replied Laurella, haughtily.
“ Come, child,” interposed the priest,
taking her hand and drawing her into
the boat, “ Tony is a good-hearted lad
and will not accept your money. See,
he has_spread his jacket for you to sit
upon; he did not show me such con¬
sideration. But it is always so with
young fellows; they take more pains to
please one pretty girl than they would
for a dozen priests.”
Meanwhile Laurella had quietly
pushed the jacket aside and seated her¬
self. Antonino muttered something
under his breath as he sturdily plied
his oars.
“ What have you in your bundle ?’
asked Father Curato.
“ Silk and yam to sell at Capri,” was
the reply.
“ What did that boy mean when he
called you la Rabbiata?’ asked the
priest, after j a pause. “Ii is not a nice
name for a Christian.”
The girl colored and answered, snap¬
pishly:
“ They make fun of me because I re¬
fuse to dance with them and to talk
nonsense, as other girls do. I wish
they would leave me alone; I never do
them any harm.”
“But you ought to be kind and
friendly toward every one. It will not
do for you to be so cross and haughty
as you were toward the Neapolitan art¬
ist who asked you to marry him a year
ago.”
The girl looked down in silence, and
her eyes flashed. She glanced stealth¬
ily toward the boatman, vho, with his
cap drawn down to conceal his eyes,
rowed on, evidently occupied with his
own thoughts. The priest caught the
glance and was silenced. Presently
Antonino dropped his anchor at the
Capri dock, and stepped forward to as¬
sist the passengers ashore. He took
the priest in his arms and, wading
through the shallow water, placed him
on the dock; then turned toward the
girl, but she had tucked up her skirts,
and with her bundle in one hand and
her wooden shoes in the other had
made her way through the surf a^one.
“ I may stay over night, Tony,” said
the priest, “so you need not wait for
me to return. You, Laurella, will go
back before dark, I suppose ?”
“If I can,” she replied, busying her¬
self with her clothing.
“ I shall wait for you till after ves¬
pers, but it is all the same to me
whether you come or not,” said Anto
nino, in a tone that he sought to make
indifferent.
“ You must return to your mother by
all means, Laurella,” added the priest;
“it will not do to leave her alone all
night.”
She stooped and reverently kissed
his hand ; then with a distant nod to
Antonino, proceeded on her way.
A few hours later Antonino, who had
old his oranges and regaled himself at
*4° inn, stood the dock
arrangements for his return trip. Soon
Laurella approached, but hesitated
when she reached the water’s edge, and
looked about in hopes of having other
passengers to accompany her. But she
was disappointed, and Antonino put an
end to her hesitancy by silently picking
her up in his arms, and placing her in
the boat. A few strokes of the oars
brought them out upon the bay. Lau¬
rella turned half way from her com¬
panion. and seemed less disposed than
ever to say a friendly word. For some
moments she remained thus motionless,
with her lips tightly compressed, her
eyes looking out over the water, and her
manner that of studious indifference.
Presently she tied her handkerchief
over her head to protect it from the
burning rays of the sun, and began to
eat a roll which she drew from her
pocket.
“ Here are a couple of oranges to eat
with your bread, Laurella,” said her
companion, holding out the fruit. “ I
did not save them for you, but they
dropped from the baskets, and I found
them at the bottom of the boat.”
“Eat them yourself. I do not need
anything.”
“ They are refreshing on such a warm
day, and you had a long walk at Capri.’
“I had water, and do not want the
oranges.”
“As you please,” he returned, drop¬
ping the fruit into the basket. After
several moments of silence Antonino
spoke: “You might take those two
oranges to your mother.”
“ \Ve have plenty at home. As soon
as they are gone I can buy more,” was
the ungracious reply.
“Well, take them to her, with my
compliments.”
“ She does not know you, and neither
do I.” *
Now, this was not strictly true, for
they had frequently met at the village
festivals, and Laurella had been tho
recipient of many an attention at Anto
nino’s hands, somotimes accepting them
graciously, and then again mercilessly
ignoring them and him. It suited her
present mood to treat him as though he
were her enemy. This wounded him to
the quick. He bit his lip, and jerked at
the oars angrily, unconscious of the
spray that wet him to the skin, while
she, with provoking indifference of his
presence, leaned over the side of the
boat, bathed her face, took down her
massive black hair, recoiled it and re¬
placed her kerchief.
They were alone. Capri lay far be¬
hind, and Sorento was scarcely discern¬
ible in the dim distance. There was
not a boat in sight. A sudden idea
seized Antonino. He turned pale, and
dropped his oars with a determined
air. Involuntarily Laurella raised her
eyes to his face, wondering but fear¬
less.
“ I must put an end to this,” he ex¬
claimed. “Your coldness has almost
killed me. You do not know me, you
say. Have you not seen how I have
watched for you, longing for one word,
one look, never daring to tell you that
your image filled my heart ? Though
you turned away, and refused to speak
to me, I lovedfyou to distraction.”
“ I’ll have nothing to say to you,”
she replied, curtly. “I will never
marry at all, and do not desire to make
myself the town talk.”
“Do you suppose I believe that, be
cause you discarded the artist ? Bah!
that was a year ago. The time will
come when you will be glad to marry
any one. You will not always be
young.”
“What difference can that make to
you ?”
“What difference to me?” he re¬
peated, starting forward. “Can you
ask ? Do you suppose that I will ever
stand calmly by and permit any other
man to lead you to the altar ? Sooner
would I kill you and myself.”
“ I do not fear your threats. I shall
do as I please.”
“ You shall not speak so I” he ex¬
claimed, trembling in every limb.
“ You are in my power now, and must
do as I please.”
“ Kill me if you dare I” she returned,
starting back and glaring at him.
“ One must not do things by halves.
The sea is wide and deep enough for us
both," he cried, seizing the girl in his
|arms. In an instant he relaxed his
hold, for she had bitten his right hand,
and blood streamed from the wound.
“ Must I do as you please, indeed ?”
she asked, mookingly, as with one
spring she disappeared beneath the
Wives.
Antonino stood breathlessly watching
her as she rose and swam with all her
might in the direction of Sorrento. Ho
have lost his senses. Pres
ently he regained the oars, and, iu spite
of the wound, overtook the swimmer.
“ For God’s sake, come into the boat!’
he cried. “ I was a fool!—an idiot!
The demon got possession of me. 1*
did not know what I said or did. For¬
give me, Laurella, and save yourself.
Ccrne into the boat 1”
She seemed not to hear his appeal.
" You will never be able to reach the
shore. Think of your mother, Laurella,
and save yourself for her sake.”
The girl knew that he was right, for
her strength was giving out. Without
offering a reply she turned to the boat
and dragged herself in. While w og
ing out her skirts she observed lie
blood-stains in the boat, and look 1
with evident concern on the wound she
had inflicted. Taking the kerchief
from her head she stepped to Antoni
no’s end of the boat, silently bound up
his hand, without raising her eyes to his
face, then possessed herself of one oar
and rowed toward Sorrento.
*
Antonino had been asleep several
horn's when he was aroused by a gen¬
tle tapping at the door of his hut.
“ Who’s there?” he asked, as he raised
the latch. The door was pushed open,
and Laurella stood in the bright moon¬
light, smiling at Antonino’s astonish¬
ment. She entered the hut without
waiting for an invitation, and placed a
covered basket on the table.
“ I have been up to tho mountains to
get kerbs for your wounded hand,” she
-aid, emptying the basket,
“You have taken too much trouble;
I do not deserve it. Why do you come
here at such an hour? Somebody might
see you.”
“ I do not care," she said sharply; “I
wanted to see you, and to bind up your
hand myself, ”
“It is not necessary,” he replied,
coldly.
“ Let me judge for myself,” she said,
decidedly, as she began to open tho
bandage.
“Holy mother!” she exclaimed, at
sight of the swollen and discolored
hand. “ It will be a week at least be¬
fore you can row again.”
While she spoke she .filled a basin
with cold water, bathed the hand, then
bound on tho herbs with strips of old,
soft linen that she had brought. An¬
tonino submitted like a child. At the
close of the operation Laurella drew a
silver cross from her bosom, and, plac¬
ing it upon the table, said:
“ I have brought this for you to sell,
because it will be a long time before
you can work, and it is all my fault, you
know. The artist gave me that cross
the last time he visited me, but I never
wanted it. Mother says it is worth
at least two piasters. I will make more
money by extra spinning after mother
goes to bed at night.”
“ I need nothing,” replied Antonino,
pushing the cross aside.
"Oh, you must take it; you have a
right to it.”
“ Right ? I have no right to anything
of yours. Now go and leave me to
myself.” He put the cross into the
basket and opened the door. Laurella
did not move, and large tears rolled
down her cheeks.
“ Good heavens! Are you ill ?”
asked the young man.
Choking with sobs, Laurella turned
suddenly and threw her arms around
his neck,
“ I cannot bear your coldness,” she
cried. “Strike me, curse me if you
will, but do not send me from you."
Antonio pressed her tenderly to his
breast
“Did you think that my heart’s
blood all escaped through this little
wound? Do you not feel it beating in
harmony with your words? But if this
is only sympathy, Laurella, you are
free to go.”
“No, it is love. With this kiss let
me remove all doubt, for Laurella
would kiss no man whom she did not
mean to marry. And now good-night.”
Antonino looked after her as she dis¬
appeared along the road, and the stars
seemed to twinkle congratulations as
he gazed.
“Who would have thought that thiR
girl could,change so soon ?” Father
Gurato asked himself; “and I had jus
prepared a severe lecture for her.
Well, heaven’s ways are not ours.”—
.4 rgonaut.
SCIENTIFIC SCRAPS.
Sulphur, though insoluble iu most
liquids, can be dissolved in hot linseed
oil.
To provide healthful air about two
thousand cubic feet per hour is neces¬
sary for an adult.
The monas crepMuilk, one >.if the ani¬
malcules, is only a 24,000th part of an
inch in diameter,
Tho old Greeks supposed it to be air
and not blood which traveled through
the arteries and veins.
Water containing copper in solution
is changed into light bine by the
addition of hartshorn or liquid am¬
monia.
One grain of gold may l»e drawn out
into five hundred feet of wire or beaten
into a sheet covering fifty-six square
inches.
It is supposed that the Damascus
blades wero made from meteoric iron.
Alexander I. of Russia had a sword
made from it so pliable that hilt and
point would almost meet.
A gun cau be discharged 25,000 or
00,000 times before bursting if charged
with a moderate amount of powder,
while even with a small charge of gun
cotton a gun rarely stands over 500 dis¬
charges.
One pound of dried grape skins,
placed in a w hite-hot retort, will pro¬
duce, in seven minutes, three hundred
and fifty quarts of excellent gas, with a
white flame, odorless, and with less
smoke than that from pit coal.
CLIPPINGS FOR THE CURIOUS.
The frame work of the human body
consists of over two hundred bones
In Asia Minor the tomb of Alyaltes,
the Lydian king, had a circumference
of nearly a mile.
Many old Greek inscriptions were
written alternately from right to left
and from left to right.
The latest use of paper is the adop¬
tion of paper plates by some of the
great restaurants at Berlin.
Glass can be drawn into threads so
line that 2,000 would be required to
make up the breadth of an inch.
North and South Carolina were origin¬
ally one tract, and were called
“Oarolana” after Charles IX. of France.
The arm of a man, fore leg of a
quadruped, wing of a bird and fin of a
fish, all present tho same bones, varied
and modified.
The whalebone of commerce, is
made, not from the skeleton of the fish,
but from small bones iu its mouth,
which act as strainers for its food.
Wine and oil jars were rendered im¬
pervious to moisture by the ancients,
as they are at present by the people of
Spain and Italy, by rubbing with wax.
A peculiarity of the silver mines of
tho new woild t is that they are situated
in elevated and barren tracts, where,
but for them, man would not willingly
live.
The value of the ivory consumed at
Sheffield, England, where it is much
used in the handles of cutlery, is $140,
000, and fifty people are engaged in
working it. ______
Hew it Pays to Take a Newspaper.
Some papers are not of much account
as to appearance, but I never took one
that did not pay me in some way more
than 1 paid for it. One time an old
friend started a little paper away down
in Southwestern Georgia and sent it to
me, and I subscribed just to encourage
him, and after a while it published a
notice that an administrator had an
order to sell several lots at public out¬
cry, and one of the lots was in my
county. So I inquired about the lot,
and wrote to my friend to attend the
sale and run it up to $50.
Ho did so, and bid me off the lot for
$30; and I sold it in a month to a man
it joined for $100, and so I made $68
clear by taking that paper. My father
told mo that when he was a young man
he saw a notice in a paper that a school¬
teacher was wanted away off in a dis¬
tant county, and he went there and got
the situation, and a little girl was Bent
to him, and after awhile she grew np
mighty sweet and pretty, and he fell in
love with her and married her—now, if
he hadn’t taken that paper, what do you
reckon would have become of me?
Wouldn’t I have been some other fel¬
low, or maybe not at all .—Printers
Circular.
NO. 32.
Falling Leaves.
When the leaves begin to tall
Hound our hearthstones, one by one
Kipo with age, their labor done—
Dear ones we have loved so long—
Thrilling message, home to all,
“ Ye are moving with the throng.”
When the summer foliage fades,
And tho year is gray and old;
Forms of beauty growing cold,
Faith may triumph over all—
There’s a land death ne’er invades,
Where the leaves shall never fall.
—J. W. Barker,
PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS.
A nightgown is nothing but a napi
sack.
It takes the butcher to make .both
ends meet.
The man who was itching for office
was elected, but it was by a scratch.
The bootblack is an affectionate little
follow. He takes a shine to almost
everybody.
Poles may not be proud at home, but
they are getting “stuck up” all over
this country.
A good suggestion is like the crying
baby at a public meeting; it ought to
be carried out.
Every man cannot be a florist, but
last summer proved that every man may
have a hot house.
“ Indeed, sir, I would box your ears”
—(pausing, reflectively) —“ but where
could I find a box large enough ?”
The acme of politeness was reached
by the Nevada mining superintendent
who posted a placard reading: “ Please
do not tumble down the shaft.”
“ Ah, doctor, back from the Adiron
dacks? What luck did you have?’’
“No luck,” growled the doctor; “ I was
there for a week, and I never killed a
thing.”
“Oh, that I were Wilkie Collins!’
cried lazy Jim. “ And what do you
want to be Collins for?” chimed the
other fellows. “ Because,” yawned
Jim, “ his physicians have ordered him
io abstain f r om all work for six months.”
A little girl went timidly into a shop
the other day, and asked the shopman
how many shoestrings she could get for
a penny. “How long do you want
them ?” he asked. “I want them to
keep,” was the answer in a tone of
slight surprise.
A New York man spent twenty eight
years trying to teach cats to talk, and
four died under his treatment during
that time. He was a heartless lunatic,
and should have learned wisdom of the
cat. It is a very poor cat that capT
teach a man to say things at 1:30 a. m.
that he would never think cf during
business hours.
“ There, I believe everything is to my
mind,” said a housewife as she dusted
the last fleck of dust from the bric-a
brac on the mantel. “Then you can
think of absolutely nothing to add to
the completeness of the household?’
inquired her husband. “ No-o-o. Noth
ing. Except perhaps a wealthier hus¬
band.” And they hadn’t but just begun
housekeeping.
Let the dear kitten out of the bag:
Georgie, aged four years, was playing
with his toys when his cousin Mary, of
sweet eighteen, seized him and gave
him a kiss. Georgie broke away, cry¬
ing out: “Sauce-box 1” “Oh, fie,” said
hiemother, “Georgie mustn’t say that.”
Georgie: “That’s what Cousin Mary
said herself to that Tillington man last
night when he kissed her.”
O
Two men disputed about their powers
of endurance, and one said testily to
the other: “ I bet you that I cam hold
my legs in boiling water longer than
you can.” “ Done,” said the other, and
the steaming water was brought. In
went the legs, No. 1 with an air of defi¬
ance, No. 2 with an edifying serenity.
No. 1 began to wince, No. 2 called
calmly for the newspaper. No. 1 began
to find it intolerable. No. 2 smiled at
the humor of the paper. “ In heaven’s
name !” at last exclaimed No. 1, ex¬
asperated by the heat of the water and
the coolness of his antagonist, “ what
is your leg made of ?” “ Wood,” sen
ten tiously replied the other.
A Scrap of Historj.
Just before Blucher came to the
assistance of Wellington, ’an aide-de
camp rode up and saluting the Iron
Duke, said: ‘‘‘What is your Grace’s
opinion of advertising?” “ I think,”
replied the conqueror of the little
Corsican, “ that an advertisement is a
good thing, and its value is greatly
enhanced by an occasional notice in *
local columns. Let the battle go on.”
The battle did go, on, and Napoleon,
was defeated.