Newspaper Page Text
■ ■ '
tk&'fiF'ti
# K
YOL.it.
DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1878.
SMILE WHENEVER TOUCAN.
When tilings don’t go to suit, yon,
And the world seems upside down,
Don’t wijjite your time in fretting,
But driveway that frown ;
Since life is oft perplexing,
’TiB ffifibh tho wiser plan
To bear all trials bravely,
And smile whenever you can.
Why shpuld.you dread to-morrow,
AndlfitiS despoil to-day ?
For when you borrow trouble,
You must expect to pay ;
It Ib a good old maxim,
Which Should be often preached—
Don’t ctOB^theJbridge before you
Until the bridge is reached.
You mfglit lie spared much sighing,
If you wonld bear in mind
The thought that good aud evil
Are always here combined ;
There must bo something wanting,
And though you roll in wealth,
You miss from out your casket
That precious jewel—health.
And though you’re strong and sturdy,
You nuiy have an empty puree— ,
And earth has many trials
Which I consider worse ;
But whether joy or sorrow
Fill* up your mortal span,
’Twill make your pathway brighter
To smile whenever you can.
THE MAH IN GRAY.
By Cnpt. Chas. Howard.
“Too into to renew conversation
with our visitor,” ho said, as if in it
pleasant humor. “Mr. Weldon has
departed ; but his compliments, cou
pled with his regrets, he left yon.”
“No soft Words, Uncle Hugh,” she
said. “I know all.”
Her last sentence brought Hugh
Brandon to his feet in an instant..
“Well, what is the knowledge go-
ing to profit yon?” he said. “Myrtle
I have chosen for you a partner for
life. You know him, Mr. Clive ”
“The man who comes here and
wins great sums of money from you?
No, Uncle Hugh. 1 jdo. ..ljyt. \v i s|i to
bo staked by you and won by him!”
“Better Mr. Clive than a man
whose shoulder bears the brand of
penal servitude.”
“Put there by false swearing !”
said Myrtle. No ! no ! I have given
my hand to vour victim, and no man
shall take it from him !”
Hugh Brandon burst into a coarse
vulgar laugh, that made the blood
tingle in his ward’s cheeks.
“We shall see !” he said. “I am
master here !”
“If I had my rights, I might be
mistress!”
The next moment the man clutch
ed Myrtle’s arm, and was flashing
f his dark eyes upon her.
“No more snch talk! The very,
walls Jf^ffs'Wvrs, and some of our ser
vants arc not too honest. Myrtle,
you are fighting against overwhelm
ing odds. I curse the day upon which
yon surrendered your heart to the
Man in Gray. I had hoped for a
brighter future for yon. I am ear
nest in this matter. Your Avelfare
lies at the bottom of my heart., and
all my thoughts go down to it.. Do
not he^80 8tubhorn ! be a lady, and
turn from the man who professes to
love you because he hates me." Myr
tle, you are standing on the precipice
of a clouded life. Do not link your
young life to the man who has just
departed. I am speaking from the
heart; I am speaking as you^ noole
father would speak were he alive.
Hear me. Myrtle, and turn from the
doom—the unhappiness—to which
Scott Weldon would drag you in order
to revenge himself upon me. He
knows I love yon, and through the
blighting of your life, would he striko
mo down r
Myrtle looked into the speaker’s
eyes while the words dropped from
his lips. It did not seem possible
that he was playing the hypocrite,
for h is voice trembled and h is eyes
looked sad. The girl hoard him
through, and hung her head in si
lenee.
*‘1 have tried to be a father to you,
Myrtle. God pity me if I have failed
in tone respect. Will you not trust
mo ; and tell that man that lie shall
uo;-smite my gray hairs through vour
love ?”
“Oh, God ! I do not know, Undo
Hugh ! You are driving mo mad—
mad!”
With the last word echoing in the
room, the fair girl hastened to her
chamber, and sobbed herself to sleep
on the pillow.
And Hugh Brandon walked to the
window, saying:
“I played my part pretty avcII; but
she would not answer. I must rely
on David !”
The sun went down on that event
ful day, and its last rays left Myrtle
sleeping away the first paroxysms of
grief.
The night that followed was not
dark ; but a strong wind Avas blowing
gusts of rain from the north.
Hugh Brandon sat in the parlor
trying to read, but his eves wandered
from the book, and ever and anon he
comprised his lips, as if anger Avas
taking possession of his heart.
“I can’t read Avhen I’m thinking
of him !” lie suddenly exclaimed, and
the next moment he closed the book
an .1 tossed it rudely upon the ovel
table at his elbow. “Fifteen years
ago !” ho continued, “Well, perhaps
I should not have done so, but I
was desperate. I Avautcd gold, and
—I got it ! In this country I expect
ed to live in peace, and heaven knows
that I have not been a bad man in
America. But he crosses my path—
the man whom I sent to the penal
colony by a little false swearing. I
didn’t see him rob the countess ; but
I said I did—and David said so, too,
and they sent him off.”
The man ceased, for some person
was coining down the stairs, and he
resumed the book for the third time.
The person who descended the stair
passed out. It was David, the gi
ant.
“He may not come!” the giant
said almost despairingly. The night
is rather dark ; but I know him t.y
be jealous of his honor. I saw him
put to the test a good many years
ago.”
David left the house and took a path
that led to the beautiful cascade not
far away.
Across the gorge, just below the
white water which fell from a height
of sixty feet, a strong rope had been
stretched by u man who had perform
ed some wonderful feats thereon, for
the amusement of the curious. At
the exhibition of his daring, Avhieh
had taken place prior to the opening
of our story, Scott Weldon, the Man
in Gray, had been heard to boast of
his own agili ty on the slack rope. He
even challenged the performer to a
trial of skill; but avus answered good-
naturedly that he should he accom
moduted at some future time.
Shortly after his return to town,
not far from Myrtle’s home, he was
somewhat startled by a challenge to
which the rope-walker’s name was
attached. It dared him to cross the
rope on the coming night, at a cer
tain hour, and no spectators present.
As he was on the best of terms
with the supposed challenger, and
confident of his ability to perform
the feat, the Man in Gray accepted
the challenge, and replied through
the boy Avho hud delivered the mes-
It was eight o’clock Avhen Scott
Weldon left the hotel, and a few
minutes’ walk brought him to the
gorge. Finding no one present, he
called the name of his antagonist,
and avus answered from the opposite
shore.
“I am hero!” were the Avords.
“Cross to me on the rope, and I will
submit!”
It aa'iis with difficulty that the Man
in Gray heard the Avords for the roar
of the cataract almost deafened him;
but he made preparations to perform
the perilous feat.
• He kncAv the rope Avas strong, for
lie had seen it tested, and he Avent
out upon it Avith his balancing polo,
fearless, and confident of success.
On, still on he went, until all at
once the rope swayed fearfully, and
he fell! But the next moment he
caught himself, but, Avith the loss of
the pole, he hung to tho rope, Avhile
ho gasped for breath.
Then for the first time tho thought
of treachery entered his mind, and,
sAvinging in mid air, ho drcAV his pis
tol.
At that moment, as if to sIioav him
the trap into Avhieh he had fallen,
the palo, cold moon darted a silvery
my into the chasm, and ho suav—
what ?
A man clinging to the rope scarce
ten feet distant, and in the clenched
hand Avas a dagger 1
The man in Gray suav more than
this—ho recognised the man !
It Avas DaA’id, tho giant 1
Suddenly he began to approach
Weldon. Avhom ho could see but in
distinctly. Hand over hand ho came
fonvard until the knife was raised
for a murderous bloAv.
At that moment, tho report of a
pistol blended its echoes Avith the
roar of the cascade.
David, the giant, dropped his glit
tering knife, and folloAvcd it into tho
Avhitc waters far boloAv 1
Scott Weldon continued his cross
ing, and reached the bunk in safety.
“Hugh Brandon is at tho bottom
of this” he said. “I will not go
baek until I have faced the monster!”
It avus not late Avhen tho plotter
avus startled by a stop in the corridor
and before he could leave his chnir
tho Man in Gray stood before him.
“Sit stijp,!” ho said coinmandingly,
and in burning Avords told tho story
of his terrible adventure in mid air.
For an hour tho two men remained
in the parlor. Tho conversation that
passed between them Avill never be
knoAvn ; but Avhen Hugh Brandon
loft the house, as leave it he did, in
tho darkness, ho seemed to have aged
terribly in the brief time, and Myrtle
sat at tho table with a-white, tearful
face buried in her hands.
“I offered him an asylum, Myrtle,”
the Man in Gray said to her. “For
your sake I could forgive all the in
jury he lias over done me; but he
robbed you of your inheritance, and
lived a lie in your presence ever
sineo. Wc will let him go for the
present; but if lie ever returns repen
tant, avc Avill not turn him from our
door.”
“No! no! Ambrose. To ho true to
our natures we must forgive.”
Hugh Brandon left behind him a
certain document that proved* Wel
don, or Ambrose Marston (Avhieh avus
his true name), innocent of the crime
for Avhieh he had suffered, and re
stored to Myrtle tho right of which
ho had deprived her.
The mad Avators never gave up David
the giant; but sang his roqniem even
Avhile Myrtle stood at tho holy altar
beside the Man in Gray.
Hugh Brandon, ashamed of his
guilt, never returned to discover that
those Avliorn ho Avronged are ready to
forgive.
His punishment avus no greater
than ho deserved.
THE END.
The’ Noav York Sun publishes a
table embracing tho cash subscribed
publicly and through the authorities
of the various cities and the commit
tees appointed by them in aid of the
yelloAv fever sufferers. The total
aggregates $1,325,600, exclusive of
all private, religious and society sub
scriptions. Of this amount Baltimore
is credited with $55,600; Netv York,
395,00"; Philadelphia, 132,000; Chi
cago, 90,000; St. Louis, 85,000; San
Francisco, 60,000; Boston, 55,000;
Washington, 39,000; Richmond, 9,
000; Wilmington, 5,000; Wheeling,
5,000. The foreign contributions
H gg re g at °d $39,000 additional, of
Avhieh Liverpool is credited with 15,
000 and Paris 14,000.
Happiness and joy are the inevi
table consequences of virtuous act
ions, and these are the only sub
stantial benefits of life. Illgottcn
pleasures are void of that vitality
which is ucccssary in making them
lasting.
DILL ARP’S CHAT.
[ Written for The Constitution.]
Tlioro are a great. many things
that mitral iso the monotony of a
farmer’s life—little eppysodes that
Avakt- ns up.and keep us liA’oly.
Sortie of bm are pleasant and some
of e,m sad, hut it’s better to have
most any sort than to live along ev
ery day the same until one gets like
an old steer avIio Avill stand still for a
half day cliewin the cud of resigna
tion and Avondcriii Avhut ho avus over
made; a steer for. I never liked
.stool's as a -model of blooded stock
nor as a motive power, but my nabor
Freeman snys thoy mako the best
plow nags in tho world, that they go
slow, but they’ll go all day constant
and keep the fnrrcr and never break
nothin nor run aAvny, and if they
plow up a yallor jacket’s nest and
get stung all over it only peortortB
cm np a little—nothin more." But
it scorns to mo that nothin in the
Avorld would bo more monotonous
than ;to fuller em around. I’d
druther AA’ork a mule any time, and
have him runaway or kick the back
hand in the top of a tree once or
twice in a while. Wouldn’t yon?
But Avlmt with the hogs, and the
dogs, and tho cattle, and the bosses,
and colts, and chickens, and goose,
and turkeys, and an occasianal fresh
et, avo don’t have much chnnec to
got stuck on the axles for want of
grease. Nobody but a fanner knoAvs
hoAV much dovilraont they kick up
every hoav and thon. Why, day be
fore yistiddy, tho old hoav slipped.in
to the yard and, findin tho back door
of tho basement ( pen, Avalkod in and
turned over 7 gallons of milk just
reddy to churn, and another jar of
buttermilk and broke both of tho
churns and set everything afloat and
dragged off half a midiin of meat,
and it took two hours to clean np
aftor her and my wife never got over
it all day and wanted to know Avhoro
I was and Avlmt I Avas doiu and who
left tho gate open, and iviiat I ever
bought such a rumagin old brute for
and so forth. Well, I look on
smartly, myself, and protcijcled to
feel so distressed that I wouldn’t eat
any dinner, though I did slip into
the cubbord on the sly, and by sun
down she got sony for mo and open
ed a jar of her host preserves.
If it Avascnt for tho like of such
things most every day would be the
same as any other, if not samer,
but its a struggle all the time to re
pair disasters and keep up the fami
ly supplies to a decent mediokrity
and all this furnishes a kind of men
tal excitement that balances off your
circuses and theaters and toAvn elok-
tions and dog fights and speechifyin
from Toombs and Hill and all the
tlirillin siutilations of tlio Block
case.
When a mans numerous Avifo and
.children find themsclA'os altogether
dependent upon Avlmt is ploivcd out
and dug up and raised upon the
farm, its curious to see how shifty it
makes em and bow much intrust
they take in the price- current col
umn of your valuable papier, chick
ens, 15c, eggs, 12c, butter (country)
20c. “They’ll never got my butter
at 20 cents a pound,” observes Mrs.
Arp. They pay 40 cents to them
yankees for their old ransced stuff
and one pound of mine is worth two
of it. Tliats the way with our peo
ple. They are always rnnniu after
tho yankees and yankce things and
rumiin down our own. Its a
Avondcr they dont import yankee
eggs at a half a dollar a dozen.”
“Cotton is dull and lower.” Now
avo didont cultivate any vast area of
tho great staple—only u half acre
patch for the girls to pick out uud
git a little spend in money. But yon
sec thoy never picked nary pound.
Whenever I hinted that it was ripe
and reddy, they avus powerful busy
about something else and at last 1
had to have it picked for em. I
don’t knoAv for sertin, hilt my opin
ion is that cotton natch is a little too
nigh the big road. Next year I’m
going to plant, it tiAvaydoAvn in the
holler behind tho house and see if I
dont have hotter luck, for I know
they aix; industrious girls. Well i
nint ginned nor sold as yit, and the
Avay the prico has gone doAvh is dis
tressing for they can’t exactly figger
up Iioav ten dollars ie a goin to buy
forty dollars Avorth of things, which
they say they are jest obliged to
have, because they nint got nothin
to Avcnr. That’s Avlmt, I never could
understand. They alAvays look
mighty neat and nice to me, espe
cially of Sundays and I’m right
proud of cm as a little above an aver
age lot,, but still they are singin that
same old song that my folks and my
nubor’s folks liavo been singin for
tATonty years. If any body knows
of a respectable female who has got
somethin to wear I Avould like to po-
roose her. I nint, an inquisitive man
by n .a menus, but for a long time
I’ve Avondorcd Avliat peculiar and
particular things it avus that they
wanted to complete their piiraferna-
lior. Well, I think I have diskover-
ed it.
Tho other day I avus out making a
ash-hopper, for Mrs. Arp said avo
couldn’t afford to buy soap, and if 1
Avould run doAAin some lie (you knoAV
I’ve been doiu Unit for some weeks
past') she Avould make it; herself, so
while I was at, work Mrs. Arp came
to the banisters, and look in as sivcct
as ever I seed her, says she : “Have
you got. a little spare money you
could spare ?” Well, I didont have
a, nickel in the Avorld, and T felt itin-
blo and sorry for her sake, for it
nint oftentimes that, sho over axes
me for money. When T told her tho
situation she retired in good order,
hut she ciinio hack agin directly,
and says she : “Could you spare a
little Hour?” “Yes,” says 1. “If
its a case of necessity.” Purty soon
she returned and sho says, “and a
little corn and fodder?” “Yes,”
says I. So in duo time a ycrlin boy
cum round and I Avoighod out the
flour and the corn and give him the
fodder, aud I soo him tote it, around
to a grea t big covered spring wagon
with two calico bosses in front and a
bobtail Imllttirior tied up behind. I
AA’cnt into the lionso appearantly to
git some water, and there sat. a von-
erablo female that, looked just like
tho piktors of them Avitchos Mr.
Shakespeare ivrit about, and she had
a whole ]tassel of lace spred out on
her lap on the bed and the chairs
and the tahlo, and she salooted me
in a very pleasant and ftirrin man
ner, and her tongue avus goin like a
hell-clapper, and sho said she wits 66
years old, and held up hdr long,
bony fingers and declared they bad
knit ovory yard of this lime in the
bogs of old Ireland, and she could
only knit 3 inches of this kind and
a half a foot, of that kind and a fool
of the other kind, and it was worth
in London four dollars, and two dol
lars, and fifty cents a yard, but sho
Avould sell it to the sivoot ladies for
half the niouoy, for thoy Avcre such
nice ladies and had such gentle man
ners like the court ladios of ould
Iloiigluud, and sho hud boot) solliu
for three months every day and had
sold some to this lady and that lady,
at this place and that place, and she
hud only this much left and wunted
to close out and go buck to dour old
KiJJariioy and give the money to the
children afore sho died.”
Good gracious! Hoav many times
my numerous and lively family did
pick up and put doAvn tlioso beauti
ful fuhricks. IIoav they laid em on
their Htinduy dresses and talked
about how sweet they looked on blue,
and broAvn, and fawn color, und ash
es and roses, and solfcmo, and mag
enta, and other bloody battles of tho
Criincen war. Ileal tlired luce, and
so cheap, and knit by those poor old
fingers. Well, I didn’t say nary
word; I didn’t look solemn or unhap
py, but T coiildon’t help flggcrin ii
little in my bead at tlio number of
yards she bad abont her, and the
number die had sold, and us much
8 m-O S ft- .•
N 0 2^ .
•■■■ • ■ M >v ii
more in the AViigon, and it. Avould haV
took her about 200 years to have knit
it all. Well, they finally settled down
on a foAv yards about an inch . nnd it
quarter wide and submitted it, to mo
in a sort, of triumphal Way, as much
as to sav, AVlmt, is a little corn and ,
fodder computed with the like of
this. That preshous lace Inis been
koorfally put. mvay t.n ho looked at
only of Sundays, and there it will
remain without, intrust until there iri
a Avoddin in the family, though I am
morrally sertin it is tho sumo identi
cal thing I usod to sell at 15 cents a
yard some 30 years ago, und^nadc 200
percent, profit at, that. I don’t men
tion this in any Avay to hurt fcolins
for I aint no man to destroy pencoby
shakiu tlio faith of anybody in any
thing especially tlired lace.
Tho next, mornin old man Jenks
called in on his Avuy to town and sed
he Avas goin then to seo if the money
tlio Gypsums paid him for his calico
boss ivas gonnywino or countcrlit,
for he was always afraid ot. the Gyp
sums.
“You moan tho Gypsies,” said
Mrs. Arp, “Well, yes; 1 reckon,
though I calls cm Gopsums.” “Where
are thoy' and Avhat do they do for a
livin?”said Mrs. Arp. “Why thars
about 40 of em camped up the road
a mile or so, and (he men trade Jios-
sos and the women peddle around on
htco and rib in, and all sicb. They
protend to git their goods on tho
other side, and ship them around
tlio tariff, but, a man told mo he seed
em buy in them in Atlanta.”
I changed the subject as woll as I
conkis and* lace hasn’t boon mention
ed in my family sineo, but if I do
git any spare money they shall have
something to wear if its only a little
real tlired luce and nothin moro.
Bii.ii Aup.
Pendleton on tlie Situation.
Olnclnuntl Enquirer.
A representative of tho Enquirer
mot tho Hon. George H. Pendloton
yesterday and hud a little talk Avith
him about, political affairs that Avas
moro in tho'natureof a friendly clint
than an inlorviow. The .Homttor-
oloct, was not ut all cast down !>y the
uiiAvolconio nows from the Eastern
elections, nor does ho think' that the
Ohio idea lias been rebuked or de
feated. lie inclines to the opinion
that the caiisos that led to I ho de
feat of the Democracy in Now York
and Pennsylvania Avoro local in their
nature. In Nmv York Oonkling had
been ablo to unite the Rcpublicon
party in liis support and bring to its
aid the Democrats who AVoro dissat
isfied with Tammany nnd itp man
agement. In Pennsylvania the Cam
erons had- had to mako a life and
death struggle, and they had won.
He sees nothing in tlio result that
alters or changes tho general phase
of political affairs, and ho does not
believe that it either indicates or
fore-shadoAvs tho result in tho next
Presidential campaign, lie believes
the Democratic party is stronger to
day tlian ever before, and to his
mind, an inijuirtial analysis of the
voto sIioavs tlmt wherever tho op
positionto the Republican party hits
boon united the result has generally
been in favor of tlio opjawition.
Mr. Pendleton is firmly of tlio opin
ion that the Democracy Avill eleot
tlio next President of tho United
States, because lie is positive tlmt
its next nominee will bo a man of
such a character that ho will bo ablo
to unite and bring to his support tho
solid vote of tho Democratic purty
uud of all tiro elements avIio tiro op
posed to the republitan party. In
conclusion, ho said tlio result of tlio
late election as fur as its affects Re
publican public mon inures mote to
tlio benefit of President Hayes than
to anyone else, as it proves tlmt un
der his administration the Republi
can party can be thoroughly united.
“Husband, I must hnvo koiho
change to-day.” “Well, slay at
homo and take care of I lie children ;
tlmt will bo change enough for one
day.” _ .