Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

~4>-“ V i {/ VOL. 1. NOTHING PARTICULAR.. I bear about by day and night The most acute of maladies; To picture it in black and white The object of this ballad is. Permit me, gentle reader, please, To breathe in your auricular ; I suffer from the fell disease Called nothing in particular. To render it the more intense, And nearly unendurable, My doctor says, in confidence, ’Tls totally incurable. My mind has threatened, ere to-day, To lose its perpendicular,' And full a melancholy prey To nothing in particular. •' THE POOR RELATION. In one of the third story rooms of a small boarding-house on Locus street, Philadelphia, sat two men in conversation. The cooling wind played gently with the short, brown curls of the younger, while his hand some eyes and face were lighted by a bright, animated expression that told of sudden joy at some news just com municated by his companion. “I can scarcely credit such good fortune. ^ Are you sure that there is no mistake?” “Perfectly; here are the docu ments. Prove your identity; prove to our satisfaction that you are Ralph Hamilton, sou of John Paul Hamil ton, and you are a millionaire. Can you prove it?” •*l can, immediately. But this is indeed a welcome change; to spring from deep poverty to suuh wealth in a moment, by the death of an un known relative, seems almost incred ible. 1 am grateful to you, Metcalf, for your i ains in so seeking me; also for your interest in my welfare. 1 have only one favor to ask in addi tion: that you remain silent about it. The fact, i f my changed circum stances need not be made known as yet. 1 shall not alter my style of living for a while, but shall fulfill an engagement to become the private tutor of two small boys residing, strange to relate, in the same place umere liw tUiH new estate. In tak ing the property you ~say~T am re quired to assume the name of its for mer owner. This 1 will do, after a few months spent in the neighbor hood as a poor teacher. I have met sad rebuffs from fashionable people during the days of my poverty, and 1 have no idea of being made a vic tim of some fortune-hunter, so I will study human nature a little longer us a poor man, win some good wo man for love’s sake, then so.tile down and enjoy myself ” “A very sensible conclusion,” said Mr. Metcalf, who, although his legal adviser, was also, and had been for years, a warm, personal friend, “and the wisest thing you can do under the circumstances.” ' On the piazza of a beautiful resi dence near, though not exactly in the large village of , sat two la dies, Mrs. Corsair and her daughter Zoe, while a third, a niece of the el der lady, Blanche Gilmore, stood with sa light hat in her hand, us though* j nst returned from a walk. They, were discussing the appearance of a ngw tutor who had taken for a time on trial the education of the two jras of the faiii i ly. 0liar Ioy, OinnjSlibse boys, bad just appeared upon The piazzrti ' iyi^ wul saying: “Yes, indeed,! like him—so band- some and pleasant—not much like cross old Stevens!” “EvcT£<ke is handsome in Char lies eyes,if they don’t scold,” return ed Zoo.! fh “Yon will say lie is also wheu you see him. He is coming back now, as lie went to the post-office a few moments ago.” In a short time Charlie whispered: “Now girls there he comes. Tell me if what I said was not true.” “Yes, indeed!” exclaimed both young ladies as they surveyed the Hue figure and handsome face approach ing; aud .when the young man smil ed pleasuntly upon Charley, and was introduced by Mrs. Corsair, Blanche thought she had never seen so hand some a man, while Zoe whispered, as ho passed into the house in order to answer a letter just yeceived: “If the young heir of Bellmont property prove one-half as handsome I will be content!” A splendid estate, be it known to the reader, with a residence of almost royal magnificence, lay within sight of their pretty home, and had just, through the death of old Mr. Bell mont, a childless widower, its last owner, passed into the hand of a young relative, expected suon to vis it the premises. Zoe Corsair and her prudent mother had decided to appropriate both owner and estate as soon as possible after his arrival, and were making great preparations for that event. For was not Zoe a beau ty as well as the acknowled belle of The new tutor Mr. Hamilton soon became a great favorite with his pu pils, whose improvement under his care was daily perceptible. Living as ho did in the family, he soon be came well acquainted with all, while he evidently admired the beautiful Zoe, who treated him with cool po liteness. Of Blanche be saw little She was only the poor relation, de pending unon her uncle for support, therefore compelled to bear every imposition and caprice her worldly, selfish aunt and cousin saw fit to in flict. Being industrious, ingenious, and amiable, her fingers became the hard-taxed sewing drudges of the family. From*morning until night she delved, bearing the ill-natured fault-findings that were heaped upon her. until her heart became very heavy and life burdensome. Only one little enjoyment was hers, and that was solitary afternoon walk that she insisted upon taking for the benefit of her health, and for selfish motives, allowed by her aunt, solely that her strength might not fail when she was so much needed; and as soon as she could put aside her needle for the purpose her feet fair ly Hew to a solitary spot, a deep ra vine wildly romantic and secluded, «<>t JLujfuamJAfii 1 ... nnnln’s residonoo. Thither she went one beautiful afternoon about the first of October —tripping along down the small winding path that led to the depths holo.vv, while she felt her spirits rise with every step she took arid rock siio passed. Oiice or twice she paused and gaz ed down, down to the cool waterfall, after tracing its high descent from rock to rock, then singing a weird little song. But suddenly she paus ed, a groan and faint call for help arresting her steps. Hastening to the spot where she judged the sufferer to bo, she saw a man lying at the foot of the ravine, motionless and now quite still. In a few moments she was beside him, and on lifting his head from the ground, she found Mr. Hamilton, the tutor, whose handsome face had so often visited her thoughts, uncon scious before her. She paused but an instant to take in the situation, then running to the stream of water, she dipped in her haudkerchicf and bathed his brow. How handsome he was, she thought as she supported his head upon her arm, and tried so tenderly to restore him. At last he opened his eyesand gazed long and vacantly upon her; then, collecting his thoughts, he ask ed where he was, and what had hap pened. <‘You are in the ravine Mr. Ham ilton, and are seriously hurt, I fear. Did you fall from the rocks, or why- do I find yon thus in a swoon?” “Ah! yes, I remember. I did fall. I leaned over to pluck a rare flower and lost my balance. But I feel bet ter again, thanks to you for your care, and I will see if I cannot rise.” IJo did get to his feet, with the ready assistance of Blanche, bnt found from t)jc pain occasioned by- Che effort that his arm was broken, and one ankle seemed be sprained or much hurt. “Lean on me, Mr. Hamilton. Never fear, 1 am young and strong, and I think I can get you up the path, if it is steep, to the road, and from thence, after a rest, homo.” Slowlv, yet surely, leaning on the young girl for that support he was so accustomed to give to others, lie crept along, often stopping to rest, until at last the level road was gain ed, and from there his own room, to which a physician was soon summon ed, and his limb set and bruises at tended to, while rest and perfect quiet were deemed essential to ward oif all tendencies to fever, which otherwise was liable to ensue. Lying thus holplcss up n his bed, the door partly open, to allow a cir culation of air, the young man half dozing, when ho accidently heard the following conversation, not, of course, intended for his ears: “A pretty pieco of work this,” said Mrs. Corsair, who was an in tensely selfish woman, “Who is to play nurse now, I would like to know?” “And to a miserable tutor,” inter rupted the equally selfish Zoe. “I, for one, will not; leave him to the servants!” “But I cannot spare tlip servants. The house-work must bo dono reg ularly, or all goes wrong.” “Then let Blanche attend to him,” return ed Zoo. “I should be very glad to take charge*of tho poor young man, alone among strangers, and sick,” return ed Blanche, “and if aunt is willing, I will devote my time to him.” “Yes, and neglect tho sowing. There is my wrapper, that I need so much net finished yet.” “Do not tear, aunt,” returned tho same sweet voice, “I will finish that also, 1 can take my sewing to his room and attoiid to both ; if not able to sew when ho is awake, I will do it at night when bo sleeps.” “Very well—do as you please, but remember, that wrapper must bo fin ished by Saturday.” • “Come, mother don’t bother about him any longer. The carriage waits to take us to the concert. Como So saying the unfeeling Zoe swept dmvn stairs, followed by her mother, and drove away, while a soft voice murmured by tho invalid’s side: ‘You are not sleeping, I see. What shall I do for your relief ?” “I feel quite .comfortable, thank you, except a headache, caused by the sudden jar.” “Let me bathe it, then; perhaps I eaii charm it away by gentle fric tion.” Seating herself beside him, she poured some refreshing alcohol upon her hand and commenced her labor of love. How soft her ‘fingers were, how gentle her touch and what a depth of womanly pity beamed from those large, brown eyes. Did lie dream it, or when he laid upon that hard ground in that dismal place, had not those same eyes shed tears over him, and those red lips murmured pitying words! But we will not. linger to tell tho fancies that were soon lost in deep, refreshing sleep, nor of the rapid improvement of the invalid, who soon was uhln to resume bin duties, al though he carried for a while one arm in a sling- About two weeks after the acci dent Blanche wandcroi'ed once more to her fovorite resort, and seating herself at the foot of the wild and roeky descent, she whs soon lost in a deep reverie. “This is a chaiming spot, Miss Blanche,” said a well-known voice behind her, “and I sec is a favorite of yours. Now thitt I know how to avoid its dangers, I also am charmed with its deep repose and picturesque beauty.” “I am glad you like it,” was the reply of the young girl, as she blush ed slightly, when ho seated himself by her side. “For years it has been my daily walk in suitable weather. There is something so solemn in those lofty hills, with their waving evergreens studding their sides even to tho top; then tho ripplo of the waters, and the songs of birds and noises of insects, all unite in making it anything bnt solitary. But yours is tho only face I have ever seen when hero, and I cannot bnt won der l|bw you discovered this spot.” “Guo of my pupils told mo of it, and that day when I foil was my first visit. Thankful am I that you were in tiro habit of coining here, else 1 migh t havo died alone and unmissod.” “Alone, I grant, but not umnissed; your pupils love you, and surely wo all would have sought yon, but wo might not have thought of finding you here.” A long pause ensued, broken fin ally by the following words spoken in low, agitated tones: “I would like to tell yon, dour Miss Blauchc, how strongly attached I have become to my tender nurse, and how much I long for her to re turn my devoted affection. Dearest, can you love a person occupying so humble a position as tutor to your uncle’s children? If you can, and if you will allow mo to present, my deep lo^§, and consent to become my wife it will bo the delight of my life to strive to make yon happy.” “I do love you, Mr. Hamilton, and have from our first meeting. To be your wifo will gratify my proud est desires, but remember, while yon are, as you say, only a tutor, I am of all things most pitiful, a poor rela tion, living upon tho cold charities of my uncle’s family.” “Yet well earning ahandsomo liv ing, and far better lot by her use fulness, and amiability. No longer a poor relation, dearest, but my lov ed and honored futuro wifo.” Then as ho drew her towards him, and their lips met, both felt that they had chosen wisely and well. No opposition was offered when Mr. Hamilton asked tho hand of Blanche Gilmore from her uncle, all thinking that their poor relative did well, even in marrying a tutor. Mr. Hamilton wished to be mar ried during the Christ mas holidays, so early in December tin plain ward robe Mr. Corsair thought prudent, to give his niece was duly prepared, and rapid preparations were being made for a strictly private wedding. Mr. Hamilton, being obliged to superin tend some arrangements previous to his marriage, resigned his position in Mr. Corsair's family, much to the surprise of all, and left tor a few weeks to return the day of the wed ding. In the mean time, news came that the Belmont owner was soon to take possession of his property, and the handsome house was undergoing preparations for his reception. One of his oddities was that oun the eve ning of his return a lurge party of friends from abroad, and the select neighbors, were to assemble and bid him welcome. This party, as it-hap- pened, was to take plaeo the evoning before the marriage of Blanche. Cards of invitation bad been left at Mr. Corsair’s, and, much,to the sur prise and chagrin of Miss Zoe Blanche was also remembered. ^if we wantedtff j nt^dnen our poor relations!” she said, scorn fully. “I wonder that the tutor also was not included !” Blanche, however, decided not to go, but her uncle insisted upon her accepting, “as it would look so strange for one so spoil to be a bride from their house to refuse.” The evoning cume, and Zoo cer tainly looked her best in tho rich white silk with lace overskirt, and rare flowers, that hud been procured purposely for the long looked-for oc casion of her hero’s arrival. She gazed with a proud triumph upon her cousin, who, in a simple, white tarlatan, with a few natural buds in her rich curls, wailed by her side in the dressing-room of the Bellmont mansion. A young Dr. Z'mitiel, the village DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 15, 1879. NO Jo physician, was their escort. The rooms woro thronged, but, singular to remark, tho young owner had not as yet -mud© his appearance. Tho guests wero received by his most intimate frionds; Mr. and Mrs. Mot- calf ; and the latter, us soon as Blanche was introduced, managed to draw her one side, and in another moment Zoo wondered, ^is she saw them leave tho rooms together. A boil t half an hour later, after all the guests had assembled, Mr. Mot- calf announced that lie had something to suy‘. Ho wished, in the first place, to apologize for tho mm-appoavanco of his frioud, Mr. Bellmont; but Ihn absence would bo understood and forgiven, when ho told them that tlvey lmd assembled to witness his marriage; which would bo instantly celebrated. As those words were spoken, a movement at tho door claimed atten tion. An Episcopal clergyman, in flowing robes, entered, followed by- hold—could it bo ? Mrs. Corsair looked at Zoo; Zoo looked, at Mrs. Corsair; every vestige of color forsak ing her face as she did so; while Mr. Corsair staved in stupid wonder at tho advancing bridegroom and bride —Mr. Hamilton, tho tutor, and Blanche Gilmoro, his own poor id alive, Tho bridal party looked splen didly; the bride, in the few moments that lmd elapsed since her disappear ance, had boon told the astounding news that she was to marry the wealthy Mr. Hamilton Bellmont; and, although overwhelmed with surprise, she suffered herself to be arrayed by good Mrs. Metcalf in the stiff white silk, with the richest-of lace overskirts, while a superb bridal vail and fragrant oraiigo (lowers com pleted t ho toilet that hud boon thoughtfully prepared for her use. A moment sho wits held in tlPe arms of her excited lover, nr.d then the bridal party descended and the cer emony was performed, and tho Cor sairs wero obliged to smother their rage and offer polite congratulations. Tho evening passed rapidly, all laughing merrily over (Tie glad sur prise, and all proclaiming tliomsolvo< delighted with Mrs. Bollinont’s good fortune. We say all. and all it was that went through tho outward forms of etiquette, hut who shall describe the inward workings of two hearts present on that eventful evening? Not we! Vain wore the attempt; imagination alone oi'.n portray the picture, and to imagination we com mit the task. Tho last wo heard of the »lmppy pair was that they wero contemplat ing a trip to Europe, while Zoo, who lmd striven by hints and caresses to obtain an invitation to accompany them, was obliged to confess that the baits she lmd put forth had not succeeded, and she was llioroforo free to remain still under her father’s roof. No eligible rich millionaire now being in view, she smiles rather more upon young Dr. Zenmel than formerly, and wo should not be sur prised if, instead of marrying a per son of unbounded wealth, sho became tho wife of a poor and obacuro village physician. ' When we think of the escape of flic, rich Mr lioUmmit from her fas cinating arts, wo rejoice, while at the same time wo whisper this fact secretly in the oar of our readers— and wo hope they will not repeat it to tho inevitable village gossip— Wc pit// that doctor. THE NEGROES HE A Rl> PROM. An Indignant Protest Against the Radical Scheme of Disfran chisement. The Leo Monument Association, chartered by the Legislature of Vir- giini for the purpose of erecting in Richmond a monument to General Robert E. Lee, proposes to take up on his birthday—tho lfith of Janu ary—a collection throughout the South, in aid of its undertaking. It is suggested ulso that enter tainments bo given throughout the South on tho night of tho 19th for the same object. Tit© association 1ms a largo sum on baud, but not enough to erect a fitting monument. P . B. 8. Pinch’nck'* AVir OrtmiiH Loitm- a n iii ii. Now that events have proved that the giving Of the ballot to the negro was not a successful adjunct of re construction, and does not tend to increase the numerical strength of tho Republican party in the hulls of Congress, wc find Northern newspa pers, “stalwart” journals, trying to mould public sentiment to secure the disfranchisement of tin* negro. Not only is it proposed to eliminate the representation of 200,000 blacks, in South Carolina, Mississippi and Lou isiana, but other suggestions have been mado that, tiro whole race, or rather that piu*t of it. who happen to live on SontiuMui territory, slmll sharo tho same fator Those are remarkable suggestions, , ami tend to show to what an extreme our Northern sympathizers will go in their mad effort, to curtail Southern power and infiuoroo in national leg islation. Of course wo understand that their sympathies are still with us, find that this proposition is based upon tho belief thatwearo not treat ed properly by those in power in our home governments. In other words that wc are Republicans from convic tion, and would vote the Republican ticket and elect Republican ropresen- t lives if wo could do so without fear or mole 'tatioii. As we cannot do' this wi.hoiit risk to person or prop erty, they contend that bocaiiso “bulldozing” and “white-lining” is responsible for this state of affairs, communities where this species of iiitUiiidnl ion is practiced must suffer. If we cannot' exorcise the rights of citizenship now, will wo be likely to do so when stripped-of its privileges? No ; that kind of argument will hot do. The cruelty practiced by one section will not justify desertion on tluj part of the other. Between the two, we would rather endure cruelty willi its attendant hardships, than desertion with its baleful influences and effects. Oruolty to class or color can bo stopped by healthy and judi cious oxoroiso of constitutional power on thd part of tho General Govern ment. There.must bo no middlo or half-way ground, however. No ca tering to tho morbid sentiments of unity, fraternity and poace, while justice is denied and protection with held. Tho bliiok men of the South have not deserved this kind of treat ment, nor have their actions merited this kind of suggestions. Our friends must romomber that these outrages are not practiced because we arc block, but meroly because wo differ politically from thoso around us. How very easy it is for us to stop this cry of intimidation, Whitt a spectacle it would bo to see our Northern friends lowering the ‘blood- y shirt’ which they have flaunted so long and well. Wo warn them nrft to lot thojr suggestions take tho form of JogesJation. (W own pre servation might loud us to vote tho Dornocriitio fciokot without boing di iven to do so by moans of violence. Let us hear no more, then, of the disfranchisement of the negro on the part of the North. Wc feel quite sure the first effort in this direction will not come from tho South. Grandfather: “My eon, which would you rather have when you go home—a little brother or sister?” Grandson : “Well, I would rather have a little pony.” As the happy couple were leaving the church the husband said to the partner of his wedded life: “Marriage must seem a dreadfiil thing M youVWhy you were nil of a tremble, and no one could hardly hoar you say, H'Will.’. re ifn i “I will have more it louder next time,’ ■ui ml ing bride. ■ aiTiiSriV rl