Newspaper Page Text
®e WriahMUe Imirtef. HP *
VOL. II.
JOHK C. m SYCKEL & CO,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
CROCKERY,
GLASSWARE,
House Furnishing Goods
Tin-3?late,
Stoves,
Hardware,
<fcc., &c,
MANOTAonrxmu or
TINWARE.
No. 116 Third Street,
MAOON. ga.
CAR HART & CURD,
CALEBS IN
Hardware, Iron & Steel i
WOODENWARE,
Carriage Material,
Cotton Gina,
Circular Saws
SOAlLES,
I
PAINTS, OILS, &c.
Macon. Ga
B. J. DAVAHT. J. a. WOOD, JR
DAY AFT & WOOF,
114 B«7 Street,
Savannah, Georgia
Special attention given to aaie ol
C0TT0N,R1CE & RATAL STORES
AGKHTI FOB
DRAKES 00TT0F TIES,
Cash advance* made on omuigAinents.
W. B. MELL & CO., ;
Wholesale and retail dealers in
SADDLES, BRIDLES, HARNESS,
Rubber and .Leather
BELTING AND PACKING,
French and American Call Skin*, Sole, Har¬
ness, Bridle and ruient Leather,
WHIPS and SADDLERY WARE,
TRUNKS, VALISES,
Market Square, . Savannah, Ga
Orders by mail p romptly attended to.
A. J. BRAPDY & SON
Wriohtsyille, Ga
BLACKSMITH SHOP.
A specialty ol ’'Imitation WoTk. Wagons,
Baggies, etc-, male anil repaired.
Plows and Pow-Stocks of all kinds, and
every bind ol Vood and Iron Work done by
A. ,T. BRADDY & SON,
Wrighisvilie, Ga.
SID. A. PUGHSLEY, Jr.
AGENT AND SALESMAN,
—WITH—
i L. FALK & CO •»
V
CLOTHIERS,
481 and 427 Broorna St., New York,
fa.Gongreui and Whittaker Streets,
8AVANNAII. GA.
WRIGHTSYILLE, GA., SATURDAY, JANUARY 14, 1882.
A Printer’s Protest.
Ob, why don’t people form their Vs
And finish off their 6’s—
Why do they make such crooked c’s
And such confounded d’s ?
Why do they form such shocking e’s,
And /’s with ague fits ?
Their g’a and h’a are too much
For any printer’s wits.
What a human eye is without sight
Is an i without a dot.
J’e are such curious, crooked things,
Wo recognize them not.
K ought to stand for kussedness,
But comes in well for kick.
L’s and m’s are mischievous,
While n’s just raise Old Nick.
O'a are rarely closed at all,
And p 's are shaggy things.
Q’s might as well bo spider legs,
And r’s mosquito wings.
Some people make a passing s
Who never cross a l;
Others use tire self-same strokes
To form a u or v.
IP’s get strangely mixed,
A"’s seem on a spree;
Y is a skeleton on wires.
Zounds, how we swear at z
& yet, just think w t typos get
From drivers of tlu quill 1
They call us such a careless set,
And scribble on at will.
Well, they will scribble, and wo must swear
And vainly try to please,
Till they go back to school and learn
To make their a, b, c’s.
—Albany Press.
TWO LETTERS.
SOME UNCOMMON PROCEEDINGS ANENT
THEM.
Paradise Vale, Col., August 12.
Dear Mat: Women out here are as
scarce as straw berries among the Esqui¬
maux, and what few there are invari¬
ably are the wives of somebody, and
hold themselves away above “hiring
out.” Everything is topsy-turvy. There
is nothing for it but to import. The
only girl I knew East married another
fellow, hut I trust to your judgment.
U se to the occasion. Pick me out a
g.iod-natured girl. Represent to her
the delights of Woutevn life, put me m
as hor good a light as you can; appeal to
compassion; persuade her; draw on
me; get her trousseau, buy her ticket,
ship her, and then—gratitude pales be¬
side the feeling I shall have for you.
This is written at a sort of breakfast—
the coffee is execrable. I have the con¬
fidence of desperation in your success.
Hopefully thine, Victor Beachly.
The recipient of this epistle pondered
long. He knew of but one who would
not presently become uncongenial in
spite of the broad margin of qualities
given. She was a little mite of a woman,
fiery and tough as whipcord.
Hardin put on his hat and overcoat
and went out, hailed a street-car, and ten
minutes after was standing in a room
sweet with flowers and bright withjsun
shine. The door opened and in swept a
small creature, dark with^glistening
teeth and flashing eyes. She came up to
Hardin.
“Well; lovely morning, isn’t it?’
holding out her hand,
“Extremely so." There was a si¬
lence.
“ Have you anything on your mind,
Mat?” looking gravely at him. “ Won’t
you sit down ?”
“No, thanks.” Then in desperation
he took out Beachly’s letter and flung it
down on the table before her.
“What do you think of that?” he
said, and watched her while she read.
£».“Well,” sho’answered, thoughtfully,
when she had finished; “ there is Maria
—Maria Knabbs—do you know her
She is very strong Igand good-tem¬
pered—’’
“I was thinking of you, Miss Made¬
line.”
“Mo! of me!”
“ Why not,” rather ashamed.
“ Do you think we women are mere
merchandise?"
“My dear young lady, you'j.'are too
hasty. Listen, if you knew him and
loved him would you hesitate ?”
“That is M a distinction with an im¬
mense difference.”
“No. 17,1 come and,tell you of a man
who is in want of a wife and that he is
true-hearted and chivalrous.”
“You never told me’.anything of the
sort.”
“And you refuseto’.go because you
don’t happen to know him ?”
She laughed at the^simplicity of^the
answer.
“Pray do you think women are so
wild to get married that they will go
hundreds of miles after a husband?”
“ They’ve gone a great deal farther
and been just as happy as those who
stayed at home.”
“ You are always more or less rude.
Now,you can go.”
“ By’all means; but first let me^tell
you. Now you have dependence and
semi-drudgery, there you will have
probable happiness and certain free¬
dom. I wait for your answer.”
The door shut and he was gone leav¬
ing the letter.
Madeline sat staring at it till she
heard her sister-in-law coming, then
thrust it into her pocket. Her sister
in-law was very curious, but her curi¬
osity was baffled. This made her cross,
and she took refuge in nagging as only
a professional can. Madeline was more
patient than nsnal until evening;
then there was a storm of the kind that
does not clear the atmosphere. Made¬
line went upstairs and dashed off the
following :
Mr. Hardin ;
Will be ready to start West to-mor¬
row morning by the 5:60 train.
Madeline Wieb.
Tho next morning Hardin found
Madeline at the depot, as collected and
composed as if she had been Mrs.
Beachly for twenty years. He bought
her tickets, checked her trunk, chose a
seat for her, procured a guide-book,
explained about the changes of trains,
inquired after her sister-in-law, and
finally after biddiug her good-bye,
prompted by some sudden misgiving,
came back just as tho train was moving
and lifted her hand to his lips. The
next moment she was alone, the train
fairly started, and Madeline—shivered.
On, past town and country, through
hills and across rivers. Madeline had
enough fresh vitality to enjoy the pres¬
ent; so it was not until the Rocky
mountains came fairly into view that
her old self-disgust and apprehension
gained the upper hand.
The cars at last slackened their speed
for a moment at P-. Madeline
sprang off. Three miners sprang on.
One mail bag was pulled into the car,
another thrown out. Madeline’s trunk
was tossed on the platform, and the
train rushed on. Madeline eat down on
her trunk desolately enough. After
waiting a few moments and seeing no
one she vented her contempt on her
unprotected bead, unprotected by any
self-justification. Suddenly she heard
steps, and looking up saw a tall, broad
shouldered young fellow, in a bine
shirt open at the throat, gray pantaloons
tucked in his boots, and a large, slouch¬
ing hat. He hesitated a moment, then,
lifting his slouch hat, said:
“ Miss Wier ? ’
Madeline rose to her feet, the color
in her cheeks.
“Yes.”
There was a pause. Mr. Beachly was
astonished and perplexed, although he
had received a telegram several days
ago:
“She is coming. Get a preacher.
Name—Madeline Wier. Hardin.”
Bat this was something very different
from the lady he had had in his mind.
He looked down and saw the long black
lashes that swept the hot cheeks! It
would be better without doubt to have
it over.
“Miss Wier,” he said, gently, “the
clergyman is waiting; will you come ?”
Madeline jrose and followed him. She
felt herself lifted into a buggy, then
moving swiftly through the air, she saw
the mountains in their beauty around
her, but she did not perceive them.
After tugging up hill and trotting two
or three miles, the horses stopped be¬
fore an unpainted, rough-looking frame
house. Beachly jumped down and
helped Madeline out; he led the way
into the front and principal room, which
was darkened and cuwl, and possessed
a certain masculine tidiness. A man
came forward, he was introduced—the
Rev. Mr, White.
It was the Episcopal service ; she re¬
membered it well—the minister began
in a pleasant, deep bass tone. The ser¬
vice was ended; he went on talking in a
conventionally solemnTone on the du¬
ties of married life and its responsibili¬
ties. A breath of cool air touched
Madeline’s hand; she raised it and
looked at the gold ring on the third
finger curiously, then glanced up at! j
Beachly. of smile There his was just the glimmer j
a on face. Like a flash
Madeline realized it; she swayed, and
would have fallen. The next thing she
was conscious of was a leisurely voice
saying in the easiest tone:
“ Take a journey of a few thousand
miles, and try it, suppose—”
Madeline made a movement and
opened her eyes. Beachly turned
quickly aud bent toward her, the minis
ter moved outside and proceeded to
light a cigar. Madeline gazed long and
earnestly into the depths of the blue
oyes bent on her.
“ Victor 1” The name was pronounced
gently, questioningly. A light went
over Beachly’s face.
“My Madeline,” he answered. Made
line regarded him wonderinglv. Yes
terday seemed ages ago.
“It is so much better than I deserve,”
she said, wistfully.
“No,” he protested, andj brought a
chair and sat down. “You are the em¬
bodiment of my ideal. It is the fulfill¬
ing of our destinies. You will not re¬
gret it. I will perform my vows and
you will cease to wonder.”
Madeline smiled, but looked troubled
also.
“I did it in 'a fit ol temper,” she
said.
“You needn’t mind; it was all foreor¬
dained,” he answered, reassuringly, and
then branched off in a matter of fact
tone and explained all his plans, asked
her advice, described the scenery, and
they had an easy, comfortable talk,*
while the clergyman waited near.
“ I must write to Hardin,” Beachly
said, when the preacher came in to
make his adieux. And this was the
letter he dispatched next day :
Mx Dearest Mat —I promised grati¬
tude in my last, but now I cannot but
regard you, my dear boy, as an instru¬
ment of destiny. In the same light I
regard my lotter, which I should be
ashamed of if it were not that one must
judge a thing by its fruits. As for my
wife, language sinks powerless. The
manner of our mutual acquiring is not a
safe precedent. I acknowledge it is
simply a glorious isolation. Destiny in
the nineteenth century ! Come out and
see us. Have more land than I know
what to do with. Would be happy to
make you a wedding present.
Forever and ever,
Paradise Vale, Col. V. B.
Hardin shrugged his shoulders and
then laughed.— Detroit Free Press.
The Editor.
The editor, children, is a member of
that race of animals called mankind.
He is invariably a kind man.
Ho is perfectly harmless. You may
go iuto his den without fear. But he
has his peculiarities. Tho sight of a
poet makes him wild. He is then very
dangerous, and is apt to do bodily
harm to all within reach. He is aloo
much wrought up when a man comes
in with a little trifle he has just dashed
off.
There is one thing that must be said
in the editor’s dispraise. His mind is
so biased by long thinking in a certain
direction, that he dislikes very mnch to
look upon both sides of a question.
Thereiore, if you value your safety,
never approach him with manuscript
written on both sides of your paper.
The editor usually writes with a pen,
but his most cutting articles are the
product of his shears.
And let me say right here, children,
that a good deal of sheer nonsense has
been printed about the editor. He
uses his shears only when composing
an entirely original article.
The editor would make a good public
speaker but for his propensity for
clipping words.
The editor’s hardest task is to dispose
of his time. His would be a monoto¬
nous life indeed, were it not for tho
kindness of the few hundred people
who call upon him everyday, to enliven
his dull life with stories of their
grievances, of their brand-new enter¬
prises and with antediluvian anecdotes.
When you grow up to be men and
women,. children, remember this, and
spend all the time you can in the
sanctum of the editor. He ldves com¬
pany so much, you know, and some¬
times he has to sit silent and alone for
a whole half-minute. Is it not too bad ?
Tiio business ol the editor is to enter¬
tain itinerant lecturers, book canvassers,
exchange-fiends and other philanthro¬
pists. He gives his whole day to these.
Ho writes his editorials at night after
he has gone to bed.
The editor is never so happy as when
he is is writing complimentary notices.
For ten cents’ worth of present he will
gladly give ten dollars’ worth of adver¬
tising—all on account of the pleasure
it gives him to write, you know, chil¬
dren.
He loves also to write neat little
speeches and bright witty poems for
peoplo without brains who wish to
speak in public.It is so easy for him
to do this, that ho is sometimes quite
misera ble when an hour or two passes
without an opportunity to do some
^ing of the kind,
The editor dines at all the hotels free,
^e travels free, theaters open wide their
doors to him, his tailor clothes him
gratis, his butcher and grocer furnish
him with food, without money and
without price, In short, his every
want is provided for. He spends bis
princely salary in building churches
and school-houses in foreign lands,
By all means, children, be editors,
Of course it would be better if you
could be hod-carriers or .dray-horses,
But as that is impossible, by all means
be editors.— Boston Transcript.
SCIENTIFIC SCRAPS.
Jupiter completes the entire circnit
of the star vault in about eleven years
and 315 days.
When the body of a starving man or
animal loses two-fifths of its substance
it loses life.
Water is 771 times heavier than air at
the ordinary pressure of thirty inches,
while the temperature of both is thirty
two degrees.
Experiments have been made in Paris
with a kind of military telegraphy,
which consists simply in reading large
letters by a telescope. Itis hoped to
succeed at sixty miles’ distance.
A Neapolitan gardener, after years of
experiment, has produced a camellia
with a delicate perfume, and thinks it
probable that these flowers may in the
near future be so cultivated as to rival
the rose in fragrance.
Coal consists of from eighty to ninety
five per cent, of carbon mixed with a
small pioportion of mineral substances,
which, after it is burned, remain as
ashes, and of an inflammable gas con¬
tained in its interstices.
According to M. Treve, the flame of
a lamp appears brighter, and a vertical
shaft, a post or mast is seen mire dis¬
tinctly through a vertical than through
a horizontal slit, while a house, a land¬
scape, or the disk of the sun or moon is
perceived more clearly through a hori¬
zontal slit. He finds similar differences
in photographs, accordirg as the light
passses from tho object to the plate
through a vertical or a horizontal slit,
and ascribes the results to the action of
diffused light.
A Cold Day fur Magic.
Everybody has read the marvelous
stories of traveling magicians mystify
ng people by exhibiting their skill in
public places. <J£ nil the leading wiz¬
ards suoh stories are published, and, in
fact, they have the discernment to see
that no bettor advertisement of their
performances could possibly bo ob¬
tained. Yesterday 'Baron Seeman was
riding on a California street dummy and
taking in his fellow passengers with the
usual blandly unconscious eye of the
prestidigitateur, when he suddenly
turned and said to a rough-looking
young man on the same side:
“ Pardon, my friend, hut you will
lose your watch—the chain is hanging.”
“Hain’t got no watch,” growled the
youth.
“ Excuse me, but you arc mistaken.
Look there!”
The hoodlum, who unfortunately had
been to the theater the evening before
and who had just recognized the magi¬
cian’s face, took hold of the chain,
pulled the watch out of his pocket,
stared at it a moment and then said:
“ Why, to be sure; how careless of
mo. ’Bliged to you, baron,” and step¬
ping briskly from the dummy he ran up
a neighboring alley, leaving the baron
staring after his stem-winder with a
paralyzed expression. No arrests.—
San Franeieco Ptist.
IIow to Shake Hands.
There are only two or three people
now living who can successfully shake
hands. There is a good deal oi hand¬
shaking done through the country,
especially at this season of the year, but
only a very small per cent, oi the shak¬
ers and shakees know how to do it so as
o get the entire amount of exhilaration
out of it. Some grab the hand of an
adversary in a quick, nervous manner
that scares tho victim nearly to death,
while others slide the cold and clammy
paw at you so that you feel the same as
when you drop a cold raw oyster with
vinegar on it down your back. If you
are shaking hands with a lady incline
the head forward with a soft and grace¬
ful yet half-timid movement, like a
boy climbing a barbed-wire fence with
a fifty-pound watermelon. Look gently
in her eyes with a kind of pleading
smile, beam cn her features a bright
and winsome beam, say something that
you have heard some one else say on
similar occasions and in the mean time
shake her hand in a subdued yet vigorous
way, not as though yon were trying to
make a mash by pulverizing her fingers
nor yet in too conservative a manner,
allowing her hand to fall with a sicken¬
ing thud when yon let go. Care should
be taken also not to hang on to the
hand more than half an hour in public,
as bystanders might make remarks.
This is now considered quite outre and
mandamus;— Nye's Boomerang.
Alpha Oentauri is the nearest of tho
fixed stars, and its distance exceeds the
un’s 230,000 times
NO. 35.
Afternoon.
Sing, my heart, a cheerful song,
Though the shadows, growing long,
Show the sun descending;
Life hath been a joyous day—
Faith and love shall smooth the way
To a happy ending.
Sing, my heart, a song of peace
While the shadows still incroase.
Hail, oh heart! the calmer days- -
Greet the cooler, milder rays
Of the sun descending.
If old age should come apaoe
Welcome it with gentle grace,
Patient wait the ending.
Sing, my heart, a song of peace,
While the shadows still increase,
—O', C. Dawson.
PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS. -
“ Takes the cake”—The griddle.
Time and the mule should always be
taken by the forelock, never by the fet¬
lock.
The way the ever-cleaning house¬
keeper reads it—“In the midst of life
we are in dirt.”
Four hundred people are employed
in the Philadelphia mint, and all are
making money.
The Century has an article entitled
“The Choice of a Saddle Horse.” Prob¬
ably his choice is to have plenty of oats,
The man who stops his paper to econ¬
omize ought to cut his nose off to keep
from buying handkerchiefs. —Louisville
Strain},
Hotel Scene:—Local reporter : “Any
distinguished gentlemen here to-day ?’
Fascinating hotel clerk: “I am the only
one, sir?”
Will the coming mau shut the door
behind him? is the latest inquiry. It is
to be hoped that lie will, for the going
man seldom does.
The difference between a cat and a
comma is that the one lias tho claws at
the end of the paws, while the other
has tho pause at the end of the clause.
The average life of a circus actor is
forty years. The average age of a cir¬
cus joke is 230 years. The latter is
“ worked almost to death ” every year,
too.
Nothing like an honest quill. A St.
Louis paper starts an editorial with :
“ Our ancestors, the baboons of Africa,”
etc. Don’t you ever get lonesome to
see the old folks ?
He had been telling her slories of
himself, and had done a great amount
of bragging. When he had finished,
she kissed him and murmured: “This
is a kiss for a blow.”
Gas Treatment of Whooping Caugh,
In the treatment of whooping cough
in gas works, as lately resorted to, es¬
pecially in London, the purifying cha n
ber consists of a large roam with doors
and windows freely open, and each con¬
tains twenty-four vessels, lioldiDg five
cubic meters of depurating substance—
lime and sulphate of iron mixed with
sawdust—through which the gas has to
pass. When the workmen are empty¬
ing and refilling these vessels the
children with the whooping cough are
placed around it and inhale the vapors
which escape; they are in an atmos¬
phere containing ammonium sulphide,
carbolic acid, and tarry products. As
to the efficiency of this treatment one
physician reports that of 120 cases per¬
severed with, in twenty there was an
entire failure, forty eight showed im¬
provement, and the rest were cures; it
is thought, however, that it acts only
upon one element of the malady, viz ,
catarrh.
Artificial Pearls.
In France a pearl costing sixteen
dollars is now imitated for fifty cents
or a dollar, and so successfully as
to be sold at the prioe of the genuine
article to any one not a veritable ex¬
pert, and even the latter class are often
puzzled. The artificial pearl, however,
is simply a glass bead or globe which is
first coated on the inside with a glue
made of parchment, then treated with
peculiar so-called “ essence,” after
which it is filled with wax. The essence
is the chief pearly ingredient, and is ob
obtained by rubbing together white
fish, so as to remove the scales; the
wholo is then strained through linen
and left to deposit its sediment, which
is the essence in question. It requires
about 17,000 fish to produce a pound of
the pearly essence.
A man in Oswego, N. Y., has thirty
bushels of horse-chestnuts for winter
food for his cow. He has paid boys
eight cents a bushel for gathering them,
and declares that a cow will eat them
when well dried in preference to the
sweetest hay and with good effee on
the flow of milk.