Newspaper Page Text
VOL. t.
,3.X<3IH .J
i w'loirt <ix i MuTKia
DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1878.
ho 23
NEVER SAY FAIL.
Keep pushing ; ’tis wiser
Thau sitting aside,
And breaming, and sighing,
And waiting the tide.
In life’s sorest battle
They only prevail
Who daily march onward
And never sny fail!
With an eye ever open,
A tongue that’s not dumb,
And a heart that will never
To sorrow succumb—
You’ll battle and conquer,
Though thousands assail ;
How strong and how mighty
Who never say fail!
The spirit of angels
Is active, I know,
As higher and higher
In glory they go.
Rethinks on bright pinions
From heaven they sail,
To cheer and encourage
Who never say fail!
In life's rosy morning,
In manhoods firm pride,
Let this be the motto
Your footsteps to guide ;
In storm and in sunshine,
Whatever assail,
We’ll onward and conquer,
And never say fall!
THIS MAUI IN GUAY.
By Oupt. Clias. Howard
“As I live, he is riding here again,
Myrtle.”
A fair young girl rose from the
gorgeous sofa, and with half-closed
book, approached the man who stood
at. the heavily curtained windows,
with a troubled expression of coun
tenance.
“Well, Uncle Hugh?” she said,
announcing her obedience to his call.
“What is it?”
“Look down the road,” he said,
throwing the curtains wide, with a
halt*angry sweep of the hand. “Do
you know that mail?”
“It is Scott Weldon.”
“That ia what he styles himself,”
was the response. “I call him the
Man in Gray.”
“That appellation sounds roman
tic,” the young girl said with a smile;
and continued to regard the person
who was riding slowly towards the
house.
“I wish he would never cross our
threshold again !” Hugh. Brandon
murmured in a tone that did not es
cape his ward’s cars. “I don't like
him !”
am sure that I can see no cause
for your antipr thy.”
Brandon started. *
“Did, you overhear me > Myrtle?”
he said.
“I could not avoid doing so. Par
don me, if I have played the eaves-
dropper. ”
“No pardon, girl. I should have
kept my thoughts to myself. But 1
want to speak with you.”
Myrtle did not reply, but gave the
tuan a look which told him to pro
ceed.
“TTnlVnian is coming to this house
for a purpose,” he resumed, glancing
at the object of his remarks, who had
dismounted a few yards from the
steps, “I do not conceal my dislike
for him. We have probably met be
fore,.-Myrtle, but. of this no more at
present. He has met you he 1ms
been with yon in places where I have
not ‘been. Tell me Myrtle—if he
has spoken of love ?”
The fair girl’s head fell, and a
blush suffused her temples, render
ing her countenance da/./.lingly beau
tiful.
Hugh Brandon knit his brows at
the sight.
“Myrtle, I gness you need not
answer me. If I can interpret blush
es, I see that tho Man in Gray—that
accursed follow, whose feet are even
now upon our threshold—has made
love to you. Enough !” and with
the word quivering on his lips, Bran
don turned on his heel and left his
ward with a white face at the win
dow.
‘‘Uncle Hugh
“No explanations! No apologies!”
he cried, waving her back with his
hand. Yon seem to forget that I
am Hugh Brandon !”
His words and gestures kept her
aloof, and tho next moment tho clear
tones of the door-bell echoed in tho
lofty room.
“The evil spirit!” said Brandon,
betwoen lus teeth,-as he strode for
ward to admit the caller, he said to
his ward: “Ho does not dream how
desperate he is making me !”
The clouds of displeasure had not
disappeared entirely frain Brandon’s
brow when he opened the door and
bowed to the man on the step.
Let us describe him.
He was tall, compactly built, and
strong ; the possessor of broad shoul
ders. a great breadth of chest, deep
hazel eyes, and a round, handsome
beard. His lips denoted firmness,
and his cheeks, tanned by the sun,
seemed to proclaim a man of travel*
He was dressed in a suit of costly
gray—hence the pseudonym which
Brandon had given him. -lie might
have passed his thirty-fifth year, for
certain signs seemed to indicate it;
but the observer would have called
him twenty-one.
He called himself Scott Weldon ;
but many people beside Brandon
know him best as the Man in Gray.
The name seems to have been given
to hint bv common consent.
- Hugh Brandon -wits his visitor’s
senior in years, for his hair was thick
ly sprinkled with gray, and there
wop’erowsfeotpn his brow. But his
eyes were still full of lire, and a great
deal of life still remained in him.
Scott Weldon, or the Man in Gray
followed Brandon into the parlor,
from wuieli Myrtle had not found
time to fly without discovery. The
greeting there caused tho cloud to
return to Brajndon’s brow ; but it
seemed to pass unnoticed.
“I understand, Mr. Weldon, that
you are going to leave us,” Brandon
said.
“I do not know, sir,” was the
reply. “I talk of remaining here.
The country suits me, and what is
more, I like the people.”
“Yes, yes,” was the response, and
a glance of the speaker’s eyes caused
Myrtle to withdraw.
The two men wore alone.
For a moment the two men looked
at ouch other without a word, when
Hugh Brandon suddenly left his
chair, and crossing the room with
rapid strides, stopped before his vis
itor.
The Man in Gray did not rise, but
looked calmly, into the flashing eyes
that threw a world of baleful fire
-upon him.
“Why are you tarrying here?”
Hugh Brandon said, abruptly. “1
want to know that.”
“Have I not the right to tarry
where I please, so I conduct myself
decently? You seem to forgot, my
dear Brandon, that this is America.”
The calmness of the Man in Gray
but served to add fuel to the fire
burning in Brandon’s heart.
• You have not answered me!” lie
said. “Why do you tarry here? That
was the question.”
“That, sir, is my business!” was
the reply. “Does it concern you,
sir ?”
“It does.”
Scott Weldon smiled.
“Why do you not go on and tell
me how ?” he said, breaking the un
comfortable silence that followed
Brandon’s last word. “Are you
afraid to talk to me ? Wo have met
before, and you know it, Mr. Hugh
Brandon,” and the speaker rose,
shaking, as he did so, the mud-man's
hand from his shoulder. “You know
what yon did fifteen years ago. I
need not tell you, for that crime
cannot fly from memory. I tun not
whither you sent me. I am here—
the Man in Gray! Now let me talk.
You have not the power—the influ
ence which you once had ; hut you
have more money. You are not liv
ing in England ; this, sir, is America
T-the land of liberty, and I stand on
my native soil. Fifteen years ago—
bnt I cannot recall those days. The
recollection might drive mo mad,
and in my frenzy, Hugh Brandon,
these hands might do you bodily
harm. But you know what, happen
ed then ; the past must rise before
you like accusing spirits of the dead!”
“Enough !” cried Brandon, whose
face, white and frightened, seemed
to twitch with pain. “You have
talked quite enough; this is my
house.”
“How obtained, sir?”
“Dare you insinuate ? Another
insult from your lips, and I will call
David. You have seen .my giant.
He does my bidding liken slave,
have put up'With vonr presence as
long as I can. Scott Weldon—I will
not name you truly here—know that
I forbid yon future entry into this
house.”
A slight laugh rippled over the lips
of tho Man in Gray.
“I may never trouble you again 1”
lie said. “Your ward, Miss Mvr-
tlo ”
“I want to speak of her.”
“So do I.”
“But I have the best right. I fear
that yon have gained tho affections
of that girl.”
“Well, what if I Have ? She has
a riglit to love mo.”
“But she shall never become your
wife!”
“Shull not ? That is strong lan
guage, Hugh Brandon 1”
“I’ll tell her all about you.”
“She knows the truth already.”
Brandon winced.
“And, what is more, sho believes
that yon aro ft living lie. I told you
when I stood before the English
court—an American sworn to Botany
Bay by -your perjured heart—that
the.truth would crush you some day.
1 tell you plainly now, and beneath
tho roof where you for the present are
all powerful, that Myrtle loves me,
and that she shall become tho witc
of the Man in Gray.”
Brandon, with great impatience,
heard his visitor through, and threw
wide the door, and pointed into the
ball.
“Go!”
With a smile of meek obeisance,
Scott Weldon picked up bis bat and
passed out.
From tliis hour yon cross my
threshold at your peril!” Hugh Bran
don said.
“Be it so ; but I will cross it,!”
Ho said no more ; but, walked qui
etly to his horse, mounted, and can
tered down the shaded lane. •
“For the last time! I have put
up with him as longiis I can. I feel
in a shadow with I,lint man so near.
The journals misinformed mo. I
had fondly hoped tlmt be was dead;
but here, after fifteen years, be turns
up, and as the aceopted suitor of my
ward.”
The speaker rang a boll, and a
servant inquired bis wishes.
“David!” he said, and a mi in to
later a veritable giant, dark-faced
and evil-eyed entered the parlor.
“//e has been here again,” Bran
don said.
“The Gray man, sir ?”'
“Yes. You have been with me a
long time, David—sixteen years al
most. I saved your life when the
Tasmania went down ; but wo’ll not
speak of tlmt. Are you willing to
repay me now ?”
“I am.”
• David was a man of few words—
the very person to servo Hugh Bran
don.
“Mv honor—my life—is ut stake,”
lie said, rising and putting his hand
on the giant’s shoulder. That man
is tearing botli like an eagle. Have
you ever seen him before, David ?—
I mean, did yon ever meet him in
England ?”
David shook his head slowly.
“Yon have; let me remind you.
You helped me nobly in the great
trial when we sent one Ambrose Mar-
ston into penal servitude. That same
man bus just left the house.”
The giant started, and his eyes
Hashed.
don’t want him to trouble
longer. If lie is permitted
to go on awhile, I will bo a beggar,
and you, David, will have no roof to
shelter yon !”
David grated his teeth, and show
ed his master that he understood
what was wanted.
A minute afterward the stalwart
form of the giant passed from the
parlor, and a smile of satisfaction was
beaming on Hugh Brandon’s face,
when Myrtle glided into his pres
ence.
[CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK.]
BILL ABF’S CHAT.
[Written for Thu Conutitution.]
“I
me any
A long time ago some pope, or
priest, or preacher said, “whatever is,
is right.” This may bo so in some
elhoral way, but the common sort of
mortals can’t see it—and because wo
can’t see it wo don’t believe it.
There’s tv heap of things that is, that
oughtont for to be; Dr. Felton is,
Ztich Hargrove is, and the niggers
is. A long timo ago an Injun mim
ed Soiioecii, writ, a book on trubhle
and crosses and disappintmouts, mid
told every body oxuetly bow to feel
and to do under such oirouinstances—
but one day when lie felt sad himself
ho took pizen and died—that’s what lie
went and done. So you see there's
no use in a man sottin himself up as
a fllosoplior and tollin other people
how to do when trouble comes, for
there aint no general rule that will
tctcli the bottom of all eases. Fve
suffered a power of crosses and losses
and disappointments, myself, and
tried various anecdotes \ for the
blues. I’ve lilosolled, and rend
Scrip tor, and snug liyms, and pe-
roosod nature in all hor soi'enity, but
these remedies don’t last much long
er than yon aro try in cm—that is
unless you aro of a heavenly turn of
mind unci love misery like a Hoton-
tot loves tortile as i payment for sin
and a passport through tho gate of
St. Peter. But a man can bear up un
der a big trubhle a heap better than
a whole passel of little ones that keep
coining along all in a row. As Sol
omon stiid, a good many drops of
water will after a while wear away a
stone. Jesso will a litter of little
trubblos bring the crows’ feet to Lho
corners of the eyes quicker Hum n
tiro, or the snuill-pox, or the utimely
decease of a rich old bachelor uncle;
1 want it understood from the
foregoing appendix that neither me,
nor my folks, nor the democracy of
the 7th distrikt/nint urn bled any to
speak of. We are not mourn in
away down in the low grounds of
sorrow. We aint huntiii pistols nor
pizen nor hiingropes nor any other
kind of a felodesee. We did feel
powerful bad for a while, thats ii
l’akt, hut we are gitton over it. We
are rekuperatin amazinly, considerin
all tilings. As for me, myself,
wasent as had off as I thought 1 was
no how, for I thought I smelt a mice
about a week ago, ami I’d been ta
pering down to a correct view of the
situation, and so on last Tuesday
nightwhen a feller ctun along from
town and sed old Bartow bad gone
about 1,700 for the parson, I pitched
up the road toward Tennessee os hiird
ns I could tare, und walked about
two miles at a fox-trot and got all
in a swot of perspiration, and it re
lieved me. There’s nothing liko a
bodily exercise under such circum
stances. As I cum back J was able
to carry all the accumulated bad
news tlmt met me, but I took it in
<lisgnise and kept on the shady sido
of the moon. Says I, modestly ud-
dressin some Pine-log gentlemen,
“wlmt’s the lection news about Oar-
tersvillo?” “Lection h—I, we aint
had uny; Felton didn’t linv any op-
imsition, 0,000 majority a reddy and
more a couiin. He took the curs to
Washington before we left town.
Beet Lester's boots off him.” “That’s
bad on our George,” said I.
“Bud! I should say it was. They
say he’s gone to bed sick, refusing to
see his most intimate friends. Bet
ho’ll never hold an office in this
country.” “Well, its lucky” said I,
“that he didn’t resign his Judgeship
ain’t it?” “Oh, 1 forgot that,” said
ho. “lie is a Judge.”
The next mornin mo and mv boys
went to diggin Inters. It was a
splendid day for cm, ami we dug und
piled and sorted out and carried om
.to the bank, and it did me a power
of good to seo om roll out, and I
hardly thought of George all day ex-
sop when some idiotic luniak who
thought be done it all, would come
along the big road and yell out
“hfjfflW for Felton.” Well, my
Utile chaps wasent all very, well, one
of om in pavtiklcr lmd fell out.of a
’simmbu tree and was laid up with a
stiff neck, and a sprained ankle, ami
swoPd knee, and a cracked wrist,
and tho doctor said that , the eartil-
ego of the diufrum under (lie colar-
bdiie of the ribs on the left side, was
more or less lasoratod where it was
hitched to the umbilical cords.
Jesso. But whenever a Felton man
would holler, they would make for
tho gate and squeal, “Hurra for
Zuoli Hargrqvo and bis niggers.”
That always gits om for you see
there ain’t no answer to that. One
fcllor did manage to tell ’em, as
Branliiim told Seal) Wright at .Sum
merville: “Go home honey you're
weaned to.) young.” Its mighty
provokin’ the wav they <lo. Yester
day I was euttin down a big, bustin'
rod oak not far from the , road. II
was about three foot through, gud
lmd no hollow in the butt, and 1 had
cut and cut until 1 m\a tired aqd
bio wed like a porpoise, and just be
fore it fell a couple of chaps cum by,
sottin’ up on top of a cotton bulo,
and they looked at mo and holler'd
hurrah for. Felton. I dident have
wind ennui' to ho hoard ton stops, and
so I told a little son of one of my mi
hors to holler back at him, “Hurrah
for Luster,” and be done it, but his
big bud heard him, mid yelled out,
“You better dry up Bob puppy’ll
lick you for that.” And some more
Felton elmps come along just iih tiro
treo fell, and they yollod out; “There
goes Lester—that’s the way he come
down!”
But I tell you gentleman, one and
all, we ain’t nigh whipped. Wo are
just iih ready as ever for another sc
rags battle with these independents.
We are going to expurgate ’em if it
takes two or three summers. They
aro on the down grade now, for we
reduced ’em a thousand votes, and
by the timo the lies mid slanders
they heaped on Luster aro all clear
ed away we'll consign ’em to a re
flective oblivion. No such political
bastards can stand the test of time
and truth, for sicli is history. The
pretender may get on tho throne lmt
he can’t keep it. The illegitimate
nmy slip in and capture the estate,
but the true heir will turn him out
after a while. There ain’t no ex
ception to it tlmt I know of; except
old father Jacob cheatin’ Esau out
of his birthright, und swinliu’ him
out of the blessing, and tlmt was a
sort of special providence tlmt stands
byitself mid io this dayJjuin’t-beon
satisfuktorily accounted for on high
moral principles. I would like to
hear tho parson preach on tlmt..
Though it uiut a parallel ease, for
neither the radicals nor the niggers
nor the devil had anything to do
with it. But I shan’t run this line
of rcffection any longer for fear I
write myself mad agin and I don't
want to do tlmt. Let ’em crow if
they want to, and if Wiilinglmm
wan to a cut of a rooster for his nig
ger show let him get a black one
and keep it ut his mast-head as a
sign of the only party that's got any
thing to crow over in this bisness.
One thing is sertiu—the democrats
of this district dident elekt the par
son—nor tho white folks either—
countin’ cm all radicals und scala
wags und respeetuble republicans.
Then crow away once, twice, three
times over tho hetrayul of your f arty
and thou go like Peter and repent
und weep bitterly.
Pm going to write to Mr. Kddison
—I am. Homebody must invent ii
mnsheon to lest a mini's-capacity.,
Why, there’s mighty nigh half of
these people, don’t.khoiv lioiv to
vote, aihI it seems to hio fho t V learn
the slowest, of any people upon the
face of the earth. Wo want it mii-
shoeti that will register a man':- judg
ment at tho polls, and if ids jndg-
up to the mark
it 'fiv 1 nnm.
meat don't eoi.no
throw out his ticket for “ncm corn-
pus.” HbiM sort, of bruit! sdttndo^
that’s what we ' want, and I reckon
Eddisqn can Hx it if )jis attention is ; '
called to it. Good sukos! If we
had only hud one this lime, where
would the. parson be now? I don’t
really believe lib would have got a
thousom! votes in the district. Do
you? And to toll the trull!, not to
bo mentioned i)uhliely, l Lustei ,!i irloufc yJ| “ ,1: ‘
not bine got, quite its, many as he
did. We waul sonic sort .'of VptlH- '
phone, you know, to put eloyump'to
a mail’s cranium iiiid fool of his “ea-
passito,” us Dr. Berehmun says.
The good doctor's betid is mighty
level' in this voton bishiosij—this’
American “fuss.” us fie' 'Mil* it.. ’
oaiit
wflirt
Mu
V:
American “fuss,”' uh lie cults it..
“Too much elekshoh,' tho much iaiv,
too much gospel—too* m'ueli Visky' J v
all meoxed tip to^odarc. Xq Atnori- ;
kan go too fas, ze niigaro go tod slow 1 ’• 11
in evoasing liiit j;)io ' balfdt’-'-^iV hid :
go like the diuhib vini after h'eom,
and lie goevos yon drulibje before'
you dun mid him. Ho now holds ’ ’
zo hulunse of [mwer between ze ’Wf^
jlpd gooit.
Jinfc X inn roe ,
m
toil
r i «»• /H i ;>fii • •ott‘)Js
Look out!
•eeouoiled. The good
loelor said one,day .,e Jiulge Under-' ; i M<i
wood, wlq was lammm’ away:
Jpdgo vat' is the niatlairc—yon : !
)omiin.itgreat drubble about some- ‘ ' "
seem
tings,
i great d rubble abbn t slime*- ‘
Is it aiiysiiig you "
lectio poy and vox yourself. If you
can remedy a laid sing, go and do it;
if yon can not, den you should vistcl v "
a lcdetle tune and bo reconcile.”
And so, Mr. Editor, botween
•whistling und singin ami diggin iiiid
cut,tin and other innocont employ-
monts, I Imvo about wore off film,
rugged edge of this inglorious defeuv
i '.i a 'rJi i:' ut
and urn now roomcilod. Aint. yon?
Yours, Bim. Ahp.
N. It.—I want, one of $lio ante- ,
helium cuts of a runaway nigger.
My Luster durlcey run away last
Sunday. Ho went over to Djicrpkjeo J f
and voted for Felton-eoudrat hi up
If lie ever comes hack, I’m hound tc
kill him. |{. A.
Hurrah for Hummpnt! and T Bi1-
lups! (that is to say ; if Billups is
elected. If he lmppeneij to" bo a few
votes short just leave out his mime.)
b. a.
The Terrible Screw Worm.
[Erdm Um Duttan (7&w«) LiMlif/ciirnr.'j
Mr. Samuel Myers is now lying
bed-fast at his home in this place •
afflicted with that terrible •malady .
the
malady .
screw worm. Mr. Myors lias,. ,
been sick of late with fever, und oh ,
Monday Just while lying j n O iio,•
of those Hies alighted near his nos- '
trils. ft requires but a few mo- V
men ts for oik* of these flies to depos
it hundreds of eggs which are liatcli-
ed and are grown inside of an bony,
many of them as niucli as one-lialf
inch in length. Mr. Myers, ifpoSi
awakening, felt a slight tickling in
the nose, mid it was not until his
eyes and face had become fdarfully
swollen that I he jiliysiciinV<lif cover-,
ed the presence .of the t worms!. Tlio
only known remedy was app/ie(l-4l *
calomel and curb die acid—liy injec-’
tion into the nostrils. At first,ibiyiY
would drop I heir hold and ’foreiy
themselves out. Application ajfter
upplioAtiun will: like ro r ;
I, y wind, turn,
152 was tho number passed. The
patient is in a very critical eoii
with but slight hopes of hi!
cry. 'The Hy is mill
our stockmen, and is ropr<
a dark colored and fi -
which generally attacks t
other animal tlmt, ,is'
enough to have blood up
they can alight,
