Newspaper Page Text
VOL. 2.
DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 18,1879.
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NO. 1.
THE GUERRILLAS.
Awake and to horse I iny brothers,
For the dawn is glimmering gray ;
And hark 1 in the crackling brushwood,
There are feet that tread this way.
Who cometli? “a friend.” What tidings’?
“Oh, God ! I sicken to tell,
“For the cartli seems earth no longer,
“And its sights are sights of hell.
“There is rapine, and tire, und slaughter,
“From tile mountain down to the shore;
“There is blood on the trampled harvest
“And blood on the homestead floor !
“From the far off conquered cities
“Comes the voice of a stifled wail.
"And the shrieks and moans of the
homeless
“King out like a dirge on the gale.
“FvoMtoen from the smoking village
“Our mothers and daughters fly ;
‘Tvofsec-n where the little ehildreu
“Sank dowu in the furrows to die.
“On the bank of the battle stained river
“I stood as the-moonlight shone.
“And it glared on the face of my brother.
“As the sail wave swept him on.
“Where my home was glad are ashes,
“And horror anil shame have been there,
‘For I found-on the fallen lintel
InsTreSs of my wife’s torn hair.
“They are turning the slaves upon us
“And with more than the fiend’s worst
art,
“Have uncovered the fires of the savage,
“That slept in his untaught heart.
“The ties to our hearts that hound him
“They have rent with curses away,
“Aud maddened him with their madness
“To be almost as brutal as they.
“With halter aud torch and Bible,
“And hymns.to sound the drum,
;^They preach the Gospel of murder
’ Jt '“AT^!'pray for Bust’s kingdom to come.
“To saddle, to saddle ! my brother,
“Look up to the rung sun,
“And ask of the God who slnnes there
“Whether deeds like these shall be done.
“ Wherever the Vandal cometli
“Pass home to his heart with your steel,
•“And whene’er at Itis bosom you cannot,
“Like the serpent, go jsftUte at his heel.
“Through thicket.and wood go hunt him,
“Creep up to his camp fire side
“And let tea of his corpses blackc:
“Where of our brothers hath <U«>.
qln liis fainting, foot sore marches,
"In his flight from the stricken fray,
“In the snare of the lonely ambush
'•The delita that we owe him pay.
“Iu God’s hands alone is vengeance.
“But He strikes with the hands of men,
“And His blight would wither our mau-
Jtf hood
fit “If we smote not the smiter again.
/} “By the graves where our fathers slum
ber,
“By the shrines where our mothers
prayed,
“By our homes und hopes aud freedom,
“Let every man swear ou his blade
“That he will not sheath nor stay it,
“Till from point to heft it glow
'‘With the flush of almgihty Justice.
“In the blood of a fellow foe.
“They swore; and the answering sunlight
“Leaped red from their lifted swords,
“And the hate in their hearts made echo
:ie wrath of their burning words.
GRANDMA’S FIRST DOVE.
TTerins weeping in all New England,
“Aud by Schuylkill’s bank a knell,
“And the widows there, and the orphans
“How that oath was kept can tell.”
‘Don’t, you think tlmt a good like
ness of me?’ says t he pretty wife to her
husband. ‘Very good,’ he answers,
except that there is a little too much
repose about the mouth.’
Judge: “Have you anything to
offer to the court before sentence is
passed on you?” .-Prisoner : “No,
judge. I had ten dollars, but my
lawyers took that.”—Traveller.
’l’lie world is brimful 1 just now
with nu opinyuns and tlierys, but I
am pleased to notiss that the hornet
stings with primeval dispatch, and
the mule hits with hie unshunt cer
tainty.—Josh Hillings.
Two darkeys were vaunting their
courage, “I isn’t ’feared o’ nothin’,
I jsiiV’ said one. “Den, Sam, I
reckon you isn’t ’feared to loan me a
doll ah?’’ “No. Julius, I isn’t ’feared
to loau you a dollah, but I does hate
to part with an ole fron’ forebber.”
Scene in a horse-car : A roughly-
dressed man, a new-made husband
aud wife arc the occupants. Car
goes off the truck and rough man
says damn. Up juntas “hubby,
saying, “How dare you say damn
before my wife?” “How did I kno
your wife wanted to say damn first?
was the reply.
in \Yi
uiJffii
'4
ii'■'!
1“'
“Is it true that people never marry
their first loves, grandmamma?” ask
ed llosie.
Grandma shook her handsome
white head..
“People say so,” said she, “and I
certainly can aver that I did not. 1
was desperately in love before I met
your dear grandpapa, and though I
really don’t know that it is wise to
talk to girls of fifteen on such sub
jects, 1 believe I will tell you the
story jusi to show how easily a girl’s
heart.is won by any handsome young
fellow, and how easily one will do
what one knows is wrong. I knew
it was wrong to allow a young gen
tleman of whom I know nothing to
bow to me as I wont to school, and
after a little to speak to me, and
walk beside me. But ho was so
handsome, and it was so romantic,
that some one had fallen so desper
ately in love with me, without even
knowing my name.
“When papa found it out, and
bade me never to see or speak to him
again, I fairly rebelled,’ and vowed
in the most grandiloquent way that
I would not only speak to him, but
some day marry him.
“Pupa of course rebuked me for
such conduct. Mamma was grieved,
and after I had disobeyed them for
a long while, it was resolved that I
should be sent away from home to a
large seminary under the care of
some religions women who watched
over their charges as though they
were babies, and never allowed them
to be alone for a moment.
"I cried ahd complained, thtoat-
enqd to drown myself, and went so
far as to: choke myself a little with a
blue sash ribbon.
“But my parents wore firm.
ligustusDeiamcre, as my lover
ed himself, had not sought my
father and made himself known to
him, and asked my hand, as a gen
tleman should. I knew he should
have done so very well, but I was in
love, and I was blinded to my folly
in still trusting him.
“1 fought against fate fora long
while, but my parents worked for
my good against myself ; and one day
T stopped in a stage-coach, with my
mother at my side, and my baggage
strapped on at the back; and my
father said, ‘kiss me, daughter, be
fore you go,’ and I turned my lips
from him. And the way we went
across the country in the rumbling
stage, for there were no ears then to
take you by steam in a few hours
hundreds of miles away.
“There were four other people in
the stage—two men, a lady, and a
child; and after wo had taken supper
at a tavern some miles on our road,
we rumbled on again, knowing that
we would ho on the way all night.
And now that it was dark, I cried
behind my vail, though not so softly
hut that our lady passenger, whom
my mother had told that I was going
to school, found it out, and said :
“ ‘Poor thing! I used to hate go
ing from home just us you do; hut
school-days are soon over, and then
we regret them.’
“ ‘All, yes; no need of being a
woman too soon,’ said mamma.
“But I thought of' Augustus, and
felt that I was going to prison.
“It was a still, clear night. 1’lie
moon arose, and everything could he
seen as plain as day. One of our
passengers had just looked at his
watch, and said it was nearly nine,
when u’c heard the coachman give a
cry. The couch stopped, and at the
same moment four men on horseback
rode up to the doors, two on each
side. They had black masks on their
faces, und one of them said:
“ ‘Gentlemen and ladies, if you are
quiet we will not harm you. We
only want what you bavo about you.
We must hind the gentlemen’s arms,
t the ladies can afterwards untie
iem.’ Add he bowed.
“ ‘Hang me .rpii he hound by a I
highwayman,’ cried one of our pas
sengers; and the other uttered an
oath. The Indies began to scream,
the child to cry. I sat still, vathGr
pleased that this should happen, for
we now must, return home.
“But in a minute more oven I
screamed, for a terrible fight begun,
pistols went off, oaths were shouted,
and at last three highwaymen gallop
ed away without having despoiled us*.She speaks of Elijah, Elisha mid
of anything. The other who hud
been shot lay upon the grouud bleed
ing.
Christ raising the dead, and still in
sists that after the deed was done
’she and hor husband had perfect
tloman who had made such stout re
sistance. ‘I am a doctor, and I do
not wish him to bleed to doath. It
was I who Wounded him. I will
hind his wounds before we deliver
him to justice.’
“The coachman knelt down and
untied tlio crape from the man’s face,
and he lay before us in the moon
light.
“I saw him plainly.
“It was Augustus Dclamere, The
man I had fallen iu love with, whom
I had promised to many was a high
wayman. In those old days high
waymen wore a sort of class by them
selves, and were often men of some
manners and outward refinement,
wicked as their deeds were. Ho saw
me and turned his face away, and
hid it in his hands. I cannot tell
you how the knowledge pierced my
heart, or howl suffered afterward..
“Love is easier let in at the door,
than driven out at the window.
“But mamma was very kind and
did not send me to school, but took
me home and potted, mo, and pupa
forgave mo, and after a while 1 met
the dear,’ good man whom you know
as your, grandpa, and learnt to love
him, and became his wife.
“And so, you see, 1 did not. marry
my first love, and have every reason
to thank Heaven for it.”
THE POCAS8ET SACRIFICE.
net was the result of a mistaken
faith, but she insists that neither her
lmsbund or herself was guilty of any
crime. The rccont letter to her sis
ter, which has been published, has
been commented ou by a mini hor of
clergymen as not the least manifes
tation of this mysterious tragedy.
Frecmau Stf |1 Convinced that
God Bade Him Kill Editli-
Mi’H. Freeman Pining Away—
What Site Now Thinks of the
Deed—Father Howard’s Per
plexity.
“‘Undo his mask,’cried the gen-* faith that the child would be raised
fto them. JBut as. .the days passed
it} there wore I no manifostfttions,
or heart failed, and now she knows
(they did wrong.
Mrs. Freeman found comfort in a
cent conversation sho Imd with
"Mrs. Fisk, who has charge of the
dost child. Mrs. Fisk suggested
at she might havo been tempted as
lnist was by Satan, and this made
strong impression itpon Mrs. Free
man. She asked Mrs. Fisk, plead
ingly, and with Lears streaming
•flown her cheeky, whether she sup-
iosed God \yyu Id forgive them for
laving yielded to temptation, and
Irs. Fisk replied that God always
.forgave where there was true repent-
aheo.
; | “Then lie will forgive us,” mid
ivitli that remark Mrs. Freomau
seemed to give up all consideration
(if the religious aspects of the act,
and to allow her maternal sorrow for
her child to bo unrestrained, tier
husband’s condition and the life of
her living child ure tho only matters
that now concern her. 8lio doos
lot want little Bessie brought to see
her. She thought the surroundings
.Vvould terrify the child. But she
gave minute directions regarding
Jessie, her school life,'her dresses,
her ehnipaiYiiins a*ivd Iter religious'in •
^ruction,. Byssic* does not know
’ nor sister is dead.
The Second Adventists in Focus-
set liavo not yet recovered from
the bewilderment which the wide
spread horror of' Freeman’s act lias
created. They arc as meek and pas
sive now as children. All that they
say is, “Wo can’t understand it.”
The feeble Foster Howard, one of
the elders of the Pocussct elm roll,
the man whom Frcomun first told of
the act, sits day after day in his
kitchen, often with his biblo open in
his lap, pondering. His faith was
so strong that Edith would be raised
that lie has not yet recovered from
tlih shock that the undisturbed grave
has given him.
“I don’t understand it,” ho recent
ly said, “lloro is tho promise that
if we have faith sufficient wo may
say to a mountain, ‘Be removed,’
and it is done. 0ur faith was equal
to that, and yyt our faith does not
avail.”
It is possible that the Second
Ad veil Lists may hold-the camp meet
ing, beginning June tho 15, as they
intended, because public indignation
lias gone, aud sympathy, or rather
pity, has taken ; ts place. But they
cannot have the grove on Buzzard's
Bay shore, and Mrs. Swift, Mrs.
Freeman's mother, has offered them
a grove on her farm.
^Throughout Now England the at
tention of the clergy lias been gener
ally culled to tho tragedy, and many
sermons have been preached upon it
in Providence, Boston, Lawrence,
Lynn, Springfield, Worcester and
other cities. In Hartford three cler
gymen—the Rev. Dr. Sago, Baptist,
the Rev. Dr. Parker and the Rev.
Mr. Gage, Congregationalist—
preached upon it Sunday of last
week. Dr. Parker boldly said that
he doubted whether the Ahrumatie
story ought to ho accepted literally,
and Dr. Sago argued uh strongly that
it should he so read.
LET THEM GO.
The Colored Ex edits a Blessing
to the South-—White Labor
Under the Southern Sun.
[Now York Sun.]
Dr. Mansell, tho Medical Exam
iner of Barnstable County, Mass., has
been watching Charles F. Freeman
very closely, especially since Free
man’s removal from the burn-like
jail to the new structure, but he has
been unable to detect any of the us
ual physical symptoms of insanity,
either developed or incipient. Free
man was generally pleased when lie
was put into the now jail, and oven
his wife, whom nothing lias arouseil
from her melancholy, was glad to
get away from the loft in which she
had been confined. Freeman was
especially interested in tho religions
discussion which the killing qf his
little daughter lias provoked. He
still holds with pertinacity to his be
lief that lie was called by God to do
the act, and that somo great good is
to come of it yet. To Dr. Mansell
he is reported to have said a day or
two ago that it was possible that
what God intended was a great reli
gious awakening. He professes to
prefer to he convicted, and even
hanged, rather than to be acquitted
on the ground of insanity. He is
fiid to have affirmed repeatedly that
lie knew perfectly well before tho
act, and realizes just as well now,
the responsibility that he was taking,
hut adds that as a faithful Christian
lie was constrained to sacrifice his
chid.
Freeman was told, it is said, that
the account of his act, printed in the
Sun, had been telegraphed to the
papers iu England und France, and
he seemed to view thin as only the
working out of the mysterious pur
poses that compelled hi in to kill little
Edith. lie sleeps soundly, eats well
und takes nnieh interest in the ordi
nary affairs of life. Since his im
prisonment he has allowed his full
bcurd to grow.
But Mrs. Freeman still sorrows,
aud is apparently pining away. She
Ims admitted that she believes the
.T. Y. Page in St. Louis Republican.
If the presence of the negro In this
country is an evil, as I consider it,
the northern slates should help to
hear it. They imported him, sold
him and got the money for him. If
his presence be a blessing, their right
to a participation js not so clear; hut
they may “out their cuko and have
it, too,” and wolebino, if they so re
gard it.
During a rosidenoo of soverul years
in Minnesota I came in contact with
a good many negroes. 1 saw no signs
of auy special suffering among them.
Like other people, they needed fuol
in cold weather, but, like other peo
ple, they got it by working for the
means to buy it. Both in town and
country they seemed to mo to do
very well without any especial privi
leges conferred either by law or cus
tom; nor did I ever see any sign of a
negro’s feeling that “when lie accept
ed his freedom ho lost his guardian.”
Now, if tho negro residents of Min
nesota do not suffer particularly fiom
cold, if patient labor will sustain
thorn against competition, surely
they can livo#nd prosper anywhere
in the north liiid northwost. It is
quite as cold there as anywhere else,
and nowhoro on this earth can there
ho found a more intelligent, active
and wide awake population of white
hibbrers in all Helds, native and cm-
migrant. Tito daliCato whites who
cannot endure the hot southern cli
mate are a yqry small class, made m>
only of persons who have money, or
who can borrow it, Outside ol’ o
class. ilinsin nmiri uhir lidlinmn <«
class, those who stay utffhom'o lire uh
Jioalthy and ablo tp make and enjoy
a living as the whites of the north.
There is no reason to -believe, and
Yea! this is life. Make this fore
noon sublime, this afternoon upsulm,
this night a prayer, aud the time is
conquered and thy crown is won.
The man who was lost in slumber
probably found his way out on the
nightmare.
I
never saw any one who did believe,
that there is one foot of land in this
country on wliioli a white mini can
not live and work as well uh any
negro. At all events, lot labor, thrift
and economy he tried before
they aro pronounced impracticable.
There are thousands of men in the
south today who do labor and do
thrive by it—thousands of white men
who could kill this nonsense at once
and forever if they would only speak.
Shortly after tho war 1 saw a good
many young men who thought they
could never work iu the hot sun ; a
few years afterwards I saw them
plowing in August, and they did it
well. I know young men iu this
county of St. Louis, now thriving
and industrious, who a few years
since would have been idling about
cross-roads. No man but a fool and
a bigot can deny that here in Mis
souri wo are gradually becoming
independent of hired labor, and that
our sous are making us so. This
inis always been the case in New
England; it will bccomo so in the
south and west, though many of our
generations are ushmned of it. Jost
the negro come and go at will, as lie
can pay his way. Lot him settle
where ho pleases, and learn self-reli
ance in cold climates if he can not
iu warm. Don’t he so uneasy about
him; there is no occasion for it. He
always bus been a curse to the coun
try; he js so now. It is not his fault,
Imt his misfortune has long been our
calamity; aid in distributing it since
it must he borne.
The People's Boom.
New York Bun.
After the Grant boom, tho Sher
man boom, and all tho other booms
have boomed themselves out, the
people will do a little booming on
their own account at tho ballot
boxes. That is the kind of boom
that counts in this country; at least,
that used to count before the era of
huyouots at the polls, returning
hoards, visiting statesmen, forged
electoral certificates, and oight-to-
seven electoral commissions.
Tlie Down-lIeuMei
to See It.
an Wanted
About ten o’clock yesterday morn
ing two men met on Sixth street und
began threatening aud flailing IP'li
other names. One finally called the
other a liar, and tho two were about
to grapple when u woman opened the
door and said:
“Gentlemen, are yon about to
fight ?”
“We tiro!” they answered together,
“Then have the kindness to wait a
moment*” she continued. “My poor
huslmti.l lias boon sick for weeks and
weeks and is now just able to sit up.
Ho is very dowi|-!ieuPtbd this morn
ing. und if you'll only wait till I can
draw him up to the window i know
he’ll feel vory grateful to both of
yon.”
She disappeared into the house,
and after one took into each other’s
faces, tho men smiled, shook linuda
and departed together.—Detroit wm
PreHH. . ;
“Ma, Rotterdam isn’t a bad word,
is it?”
“Oh, no, Willie, that is the name
of a foreign city. Yon will find it iu
your geography,”
“Well, you wouldn’t lick a fellow
for talking about it, would you,”
“Most certainly not.”
“Honest Injun you wouldn't?”
mid his face boro an expression of
deep oaniesbness.
“Of course not; why do you ask
such questions?”
“Well, Mary Dawson is coming
over here to toll on me. 8ho had a
whole two ; hits worth of candy and
wouldn’t give mu a bite, so 1 told hor
just to eat it herself, an’ I hoped it
would Rotterdam teeth opt.”
lie escaped chastisement,bjifc tho
moral lesson rend to him will servo
iw ti guide-post through all his future
were some mud men in a
, T .. Kentucky post-office a few
days ago. A postal card was droppod
into the letter-box addressed ,to
“Rev. John Ponobscott, , —
—.” It was an ordinary curd, and
the postmaster was an ordinary post
master. Lie took it up, glanced at
the address, turned it leisurely over
and read: | , , May 2.
1879. You, to whom this card is
not addressed, and who, nevertheless,
havo the cheek to read it, are a con
temptible, unprincipled sneak and a
prying, pusilmiiiuoiis coward. Geo-
F. Dtogan.” The postmaster laid
the card gently down and lounged to
the other end of the house, softly
whistling “Nancy Leo.” In due
time f ho clerk camo upon the card,
perused it, threw his hat on tho
floor, stumped it, und made the
neighborhood hideous with the howls
of his pet dog, which ho kicked In
the ribs. How the card fared with
various route agonts through whom
it passed it is impossible to Hity; nor
do we know whether it was read by
tho woman who is postmistress at
the < ffiee where the Rev. John
Penobscot is supposed to got hi*
mail; but tho report is that on the
day it readied there sjjo s/nnsbed a
bottle of ink on her husband's head,
spanked the children all round, and
chewed up ninety-five cents worth of
wax. Wo can not ho too careful
never to write on postal cards any
thing iu the least calculated to wound
the sensitive doJicacy of the post-office
people’s foci i ngs—-Courier-Journal.
8llv«r Has a Boom.
Washington Post.
Tho Latin union limits silver coin
age to $4,000,000 a year. Sho has
given notice that she wisiies to coin
$0,000,000annually. This, with tho
fact that Bismarck Ims stopped tho
s.ijes of silver in Germany, with a
probable intention of resuming its
coinage, sliows tho progress that
biinctulism is making in Europe.
Slowly, Imt surely, silver is coming
hack to its-rightful plaeo.
If you don’t shut down on the in
ordinate use of tobacco, you are liable
to superinduce an excruciating con
catenation of amaurosis, angina pec
toris, hypochondriasis, and locomo-
toratnxy.
He that fails into sin isn man; that
grieves at it may he u saint; that
boostoth of it is a devil.