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VOL. 2.
DECORA TION DA Y.
Where the iron gateway arches
O’er the dwellings of the dead ;
In the meadow where the larches
Wave their foliage overhead ;
Close beside the flowing river,
In the valley’s peaceful rest,
Where tho golden sunlight quivers
On the water’s heaving breast;
Where the vernal blossoms cumber
River bank and meadow sward,
Rest our heroes in the slumber
Of their glory and reward.
Where the'brazen cannon’s thunder
Pealed across the smoky plaia,
Till the air seemed rent asunder
As the echoes rang again;
On the hillside where the ridges
Of the redoubts linger yet,
By the rivers where the bridges
Bristled with the bayonet,
Lie the laurels and the roses
On the mounted graves to tell
Where a nation’s dead reposes
’Neath the spot on which they fell.
Side by side, without distinction,
Sleep the soldiers underneath;
Blue and Gray have found extinction
In tlie panoplies of death.
Never more shall cither rival
Give expression to his wrath;
Hatred can have no survival
In their peaceful aftermath;
And of all their former quarrel
Naught distinguishes the foes
Save the garlands of the laurel
And the wreathings of the rose.
Who shall desecrate these grasses,
Who antagonize this love,
Who disturb the requiem masses
That the zephyrs sing above?
May his rigid hand fall and wither,
May his tongue envenomed rot.
Who would bring his hatred hither
Where love consecrates the spot /
Be their blood a brand forever
On the demagogues who strive
To recall their hates, or sever
The affections that survive !
Bring them flowers / for tender notions
Have more force than angry words;
Kindness cools the wrath of factions,
Love will dull ths sharpest swords.
Give the Blue the wreaths of roses,
Yield tho laurel to tlie Gray;
While our tenderness discloses
That our bate has passed away.
Leave them there/ their fame is common,
Be their tokens rose or rue,
Till the angel’s trump shall summon
Prom their slumbers Gray and Blue.
—[W., in Boston Post.
FORTY PAIRS OF STOCK
INGS.
“But had she no money? Every
one thought her so rich,” said Miss
Becky.
“People sometimes sink all their
property in a life annuity; perhaps
she has done that,” said Miss Patty.
“Yes, that is it, selfish old thing,”
said Miss Jane.
“All I know about it,” said Miss
Hannah, “is that tlie will was just
what I have repeated. ‘I, Margaret
Skidmore, being in full possession of
my senses,’ and all the rest, you
know, just as wills are usually writ
ten. ‘leave to either or any of my
four nieces who will knit it up—
Miss Becky Linn, Miss Patty Linn,
Miss Jane Foster, or Miss Hannah
Foster—my great ball of yarn, of
which I had intended to knit stock
ings for the poor. Each pair to be
carried as knitted to the pastor of
St. ’s church, and given to him
in pare for tho Winter Mission, which
supplies warm clothing for the suf
fering. I have written my thanks
on the paper on which the worsted
is wound, and hope one of iny nieces
will be willing to do so much for a
poor old womau who wants to do
what little good she can. Tho wor
sted will knit forty pairs of stock
ings.”
“How absurd!” cried Miss Becky.
“And did you see the ball?”
“It’s the most immense thing,”
said Miss Hannah. -‘Well, poor
Grandma Skidmore was always very
good to us. Of course we’ll do what
she asks us.”
“Knit forty pair of stockings?”
screamed Miss Patty.
“The idea !” cried Miss Jane.
“I never heard auything so ridicu
lous as that remark, Hannah Fos
ter,” sneered Miss Becky.
“Well then,” said Hannah, “I’ll
do it myself. I shouldn’t like to
disregard ]>oor grandma’s last
wishes.”
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DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, JULY 2, 1870.
NO. 3.
“She was so polite to you, you
know,” said Jane.
“She said I was the plainest one
of the lot,” said Hannah; but very
likely it was true. At all events she
liked my ginger-bread.”
“Liked her ginger-bread 1” cried
Jane. “Becky, I believe one’s name
has an influence on one’s life and
actions. She rejoices in her ginger
bread, and is happy in knitting for-
pairs of blue worsted stockings.”
“Oh, you needn’t complain,” cried
her cousin. “It’s bad enough to be
be Hannah and Jane, but fancy be
ing Becky ana Patty 1”
The Misses Linn and the Misses
Foster were cousins. Their parents
had never been rich, and had
all died young, but not before they
had impressed on the minds
of their children that Grandma
Skidmore was a relative of whom
great things were to be expected.
As each was born she had sent her
commands as to its christening to its
parents. l-Iannah, Becky, Patty,
and Jane, all owdd their names to
her, and considered themselves some
what ill-used in being cut off from so
many that were pretty, elegant, and
fashionable. However, tho hope of
the legacy.which was sure to come
some day comforted them—even
when, m her solitary visit to them,
Grandma Skidmore had rather hurt
their feelings by telling them that
they had not tho charms she hoped
cheir descent would insure them, and
that Hannah was tho plainest of the
lot. However, when she went home
she gave them each a now dress and
a dozen pocket-handkerchiefs, and
declared that Hannah’s ginger-bread
was better than she could make her
self. _ And when she died they had
all been sent for to hear the reading
of her will. It was an expensive
journey and a 'fatiguing one, and
Hannah had been sent to represent
the others—Hannah, the eldest,
hopelessly turned thirty, wlio had a
plain face and a subdued manner, and
so little spirit that she had declared
that she did not care in tho least to
be named Hannah. Anything un
pleasant which was necessary to be
done in that household of four had
always been .done by Hannah from
time immemorial.
Now having brought home that
great ball of worsted—worsted
enough to knit forty pairs of stock
ings—rolled up in one immense
sphere, she had her task before her,
and in the intervals of cooking, dust
ing and mending, she worked at it
faithfully. Also, when each pair
was done, she carried it to the ltev.
Mr. ■, and left it m his charge
likely to be put aside.
When she entered the office and
the face she liked so well—
saw
though most women might have oar
ed little to look upon it—she had
neod to be very bravo, but she said
her few words calmly, and would
have uttered good-bye as calmly
when something happened that ren
dered her mute with astonishment.
The clergyman had takon hor hand
as in adieu,’ but instead of droppihg
it he kept it, and suddenly inclosed
it in both his.
“I cannot bear to lot you go thus,”
he said. “You may think me very
odd, very presumptuous—I am a
strange man, I believe—but I like
you so. If you could like me as well
—not that I expect that, but—I sup
pose you understand me—could you
make up your mind to be my wife?”
Haunah was already very much
ashamed of it, but by way of answer
she quietly fainted away.
In the gloaming two people walked
together, arm in arm, towards Han
nah’s home. And on Hannah’s fin-
gor was a plain, old-fashioned ring
that had been her lover’s mother’s
wedding-ring. Many a glittering, be
gemmed circlet ; s less worthy of typ
ifying such a sacrod promiso as each
had given tho other that day, as
that worn bit of pure gold with the
graven motto, “Until death do us
part,” within it. At tho door they
said good-bye until the morrow.
There was great excitement in tho
little house as Haunah entered.
Why Hannah, whore have you
been,” cried ono girl.
“How mean to go off without toll
ing us!” cried another.
“I don’t see how I could tell when
And TUat*s
A DAY BEHIND.
Grieves Mr.
Wliat
Arp.'
hour
ago,
for the Winter Mission.
“It was poor grandmother’s wish,”
she explained. “She desired to knit
these stockings, and she asked me to
do as I am doing. I suppose it seems
odd.”
But the good clergyman did not
think it odd, and told Hannah so.
He was a grave, middle-aged man,
but Hannah liked him, and there
was much pleasant talk during these
little visits. When, at last the ball
was nearly knit away, Hannah felt
that she could miss them very much.
It was quite a sad heart that she felt
the last stitches slip over tho needles.
“I shall never see him again,” she
said, “lie certainly will never care
to trouble himself about seeing me,
‘the plainest of the lot.’ Well,
grandma, your stockings are done,
and I have some pleasant memories
for them.”
As she spoke, tho long fold of stiff
paper on which the ball had been
wrapped fell upon the floor.
“Aud your thanks are written
here,” said Hannah. “I will read
them when I come back,” and she
put the paper into her letter holder.
Her time was full and she had need
to make haste, if she would see the
clergyman before he left the little
office of the Winter Mission.
Poor Hanuah’s heart was very full;
when feelings such as those that had
lately come to her come when early
girlhood is long past, they are not
I did not know until an
aid Hannah.
“Why how red your cheeks are /
And'you’ve got a ring that I never
saw before. I wouldn’t know you,
you look so odd,” cried Jane.
She should look happy,” said
Becky, with a smile, “I’m sure I
would.”
“He is such a good man, and I
never dreamt he loved me,” said
Hannah.
“Well, this is something else,”
cried Jane. “An offer, too, I de
clare! Who is it?”
“Oh, you know. Grandma’s
stockings did it!” said Hannah. “I
have been to see him forty times!
Think of that!”
“A clergyman’s lady, too,” said
Jane; “and I don’t bolieve she read
this before she went out. Read it
now, Hannah.”
And Hannah taking the long fold
of paper on which the worsted had
been wound, from her sister’s hand,
read thus:
“Whichever of my nieces may have
completed tho forty pairs of stock
ings for the Winter Mission may
now receive my thanks. They are
substantial. Go to my old residence.
Open tho cupboard beside the parlor
fire-place, and you will find a sliding
door in the left wall, which opens by
a spring. In this lies a will in her
favor. Proof must be given that the
forty pair of stockings have been
knit, and by whose hund. I think,
and I may add I hope, Hannah will
do it.”
So Hannah, plain and hard-worked
us she hud been, stood bofore them
an heiress and a betrothed wife.
Jane was glad. Becky and Patty
had the grace to endeavor to be; and
Hannah, having entered into her
fortune, was very generous to them.
Such is tRe power of happiness and
wealth, that, as a middle-aged wo
man, Hannah has grown quite hand
some, and iB by no means “the plain
est of the lot” to-day.
If you would be pungent, be brief,
for it is with words as with sunbeams,
the more they are condensed tho
deeper tliey burn.
‘Do you mean to call mo a liar?’
asked a ferocious old gentleman.
‘Well, no, not exactly;’temporizes
his young friend, ‘but if I saw you
in the company of Annanias and 8ap-
phira, 1 should say you were in the
bosom of your fomily,’
Atlanta Constitution.
I reckon that sheop moat was good,
and all the other nice things you had
at your barbucu. I would have re-
joicod to have been there, to have
ohjoyod the light of your counte
nance and tho savory meats, and
brought a juicy rib or t^o home to
Mrs. Arp aud the children. And I
would have been thore but for two
things that bothered ino. I had no
ffHje $iss, and secondly I got tli
invitation on Tuesday to Monday’s
barbacu. It reminded me of these
invites we sometimes got to weddings
that aro afar off. Tho ticket goner
ally reaches ns a day or two after tho
wedding. I reckon that is a good
way, foT its a savin both in vittels
and politeness. Maybe youl have
another ono next June, and for fear
of accodints I reckon you had bettor
invito us now, if its all tho same to
yon. Wo are going to have a big
dining ourselves yesterday and would
like for you to como up. Perhaps
you had better start day bofore yes
terday so as to bo here in time.
I know that Harris had got hold
of some sheep meat somewhere for
he had another violent paragraph
against dogs tho next morning. I
can always tell when ho has had
mutton for dinner. It seems to
affect his head, though I nover did
consider him mutton-hondod. lie is
too dogmatic for that. Old Bows is
dead, my loving and trusty friend,
the dofondor of my children, tho
protector of my household in tho
dark and silent watches of the night.
For thirteen years he has been both
fond an! faithful, and now.wo fool
likO"drio*of th<Tfamily is dead. Bows
was tho best judge of human nature
I over saw: He knew an honest man
and a gentleman by instinct. Ho
never frightened a woman or a child
—ho novor went tearing down tho
front walk after anybody but tho very
looks of him would mighty nigh
skeer a nigger to death. When they
had to come to our house they begun
to holler “hollo” a quarter of a mile
off. Bows loved to skeer om, lie did.
He had character and emotions.
Having no tail to wag (for ho was
not cur-tailed) he did tho best that
he could and wagged where it ought
to bo. Bows was a dark brindlo.
He was a dog of ancestors. His
father was named Shylook, and his
grandfather’s namo was Sheriff.
They wore all honorable dogs, lie
was not (juarrelsomo or fussy. I
never knew him to run up and down
a nabors palings after the dog on tho
other side. He was above it—but he
never dodged a responsibility. He
has come in violent porsonal contact
with other dogs a thousand timos
more or less, and was nover tho bot
tom dog in tho fight. And then
what an honest voico ho had. Iiis
bark was not on tho 0, but was a
deep, short basso profundo. Wo
have bn vied him on tho brow of the
hill whore ho used to sit and watch
for tramps and stragglers. Slowly
and sadly wo laid him down. Talk
akout your sheop—I wouldn’t have
given him for a whole flock. Sheop
"are to oat and wear, but Bows was a
friend. Its like comparing appetite
with emotion—the ammal -with the
spiritual. But I am done now. Let
Harris press on his dog law. Ivo got
nothin agin sheep—jp fact, I like em.
Ever since Mary hod a little lamb Ive
thought kindly of sheep, and I am
willing to a law that will exterminate
all houns and suck-egg pups and val-
lerdogs and bench-leg fic§s. They
are a reflection on Bowses memory.
But Ive been away from homo and
find myself behind the sensation.
Potts 1 who is Potts,, and what is
she after ? While I was up in Ten
nessee prancin’ around among the
girls, Potts has turned up. Well, it
looks like when a woman gets her
back up she can beat a man at most
anything. When I was a suseeptible
youth I foil in love with a little girl
who one day bantered mo for a foot
race and beat me. I didn’t like that
for I considered that under domestic
difficulties a man ought to have some
chance to got away from a woman
and if she could out run him he
wouldn’t have any oluinco at all.
Captain Potts wouldn’t have any
trouble at .all on that score. She
wouldn’t have to run, but could just
walk after a feller and sho could tol
ler him a thousand miles if necessary.
Maybe she’s follorin a feller now. I
wonder if sho haint got a cowhido
under her clothes and a pistol in hor
hip-pockot. Alas! poor Yoriok. I
see him now, Horatio, with swelled
ankles and blistored foot, and a de
spairing countenance as ho roads tho
telegrams and looks back over his
shrugging shoulders: Potts at Cen
tral—Potts dines with Cousin John
Thrasher, Potts at Seneca, Potts at
Mt. Airy, Potts at Atlanta. Cousin
John is a reflootivo man. Cousin
John killed tho fatted calf for ho
saw tho end of the cowhido and was
afraid tho colonel would come back
that way. Do toll mo how tho gen
eral is dressed. Does sho wear short
frocks or kiico Mooches. Muybo its
a trail and sho goes so fast a follow
could play a rnnnin game of marblos
on it. Does she woar 7 brogan boots
or slidin slippers ? Does she go with
a spring, first upon the heel-tap and
then upon tho toe—or does tho holler
of hor foot make a hole in the ground?
When tho creek is up does she wade
like cousin Sally Dillard, or coon it
on a log. I wish I could see the
professor. Do plcaso toll Potts to
stop this way. Yours,
Bill Aui\
WESTON THE VICTOR.
He Makes the Best Time on
Record.
Ho said but little ; yet as ho gazed
on the mutilated edge of his best
razor, ho mentally vowed never again
to marry a woman with corns.
“John,” said Mrs. Smith, “wlmt
smell is that?”
“Cloves.”
“But that othor smell?”
“Allspice.”
“But isn’t there another?”
“Yes—apples.”
“Just ono moro?”
“Cider, my dear.”
“Well, John,” said sho, “if you’d
drink a littlo brandy now, you would
make a good mince pio.”
If you evor think of marrying u
widow, solect ono whoso first husband
was hung, for that is tho only way
to prevent annoying comparisi ns.
“Even that won’t answer,” says
Snodgrass; “sho will then praise him
by saying that hanging would be too
good for you.”
Nkw Youk, June 21.— The fol
lowing special has buon received :
“London, 11 p. m.—Tho great con
test is finished. Weston to-night
stands without, a rival in pedestrian-
i8m as possessing the highest score
on record, and is just being proclaim
ed with shouts and cheers, champion
of the world. Tlu> bell, goes back to
America in keeping of its proud cap
tor, there to remain until Rowell
makes another effort to recover it.
Weston completed his 550th mile
thoroby winning tho bolt, his bet,
and tho ohampionship. From 2
o’clock this uftornoon until 8 o’clock
this evening, Weston, after having
been ovor fivo days on the track, ac
complished the ustonishiug feat of
making 6 miles an honr. At 2
his score stood 500 miles, and during
tho next six hours ho had piled up
miles until they numbered 636.
During those six hours tho exoito-
mont was something wonderful, and
tho plucky hoio of tho hour was
greotod with shouts and choers ns he
boldly plodded along against time.
From 8 o’clock tho excitement stead
ily increased and reachod its culmin
ating point just boforo ho finished.
At half-past nine Weston had made
the highostsooro on record, namely;
543 miles and five laps, beating
‘Blower’ Brown’s great seoro of 642
miles that was mado in the same
hall last April. Tho hall at this
time was filled with an entliiuuastie
crowd, who seems nover to grow tir
ed of cheering Weston, though he
was evidentially suffering somewhat
from fatigue. Consequent upon his
great effort ho maintained a smiling
face and was tho recipient of many
friendly greetings. The great strug
gle was tho greatest on record. It
canic to an end at 11 o’olook, Wes
ton dping560 miloswith five minutes
to spare. ”
Poisoning by Plants ami Insects.
Tlie judge looked down witli serious frown
Upon that nose so pink,
And then lie said: "Old ‘puddin’ head,
Now tell me, do you drink ?
Tlie soaker smiled like some bland child,
And rose from whore lie sate;
“Well, seein’ it’s you, don't care if I do;
I always take mine straight."
—Cin. Star,
A standing antidote for poison by
oak, ivy. &c., is to take a handful of
quicklimo, dissolvo it in water, let it
stand half an hour, then paint the
poisoned parts with it. Three or
four applications will novor fail to
euro tho most aggravated cases.
Poison from bees, hornets, spider-
bites, &o., is instantly arrested by
tho application of equal parts of
common salt and bicarbonate of
soda, well rubbed in on the place
bitten or stung.
A statement, says tho London
Lancet has lately been made to tho
effect that during the lust two years
tho consumption of opium by tho
working cluesos in England bus con
siderably increased, and an explana
tion bus been advanced that the in
creased consumption has been induc
ed by tlie restriction of the sale of
intoxicating liquors by the early clos
ing of public houses. That the sale
of narcotic drugs has of lute greatly
increased there is little reason to
doubt, but it is rather to iho hard
ness of times than to any restraint in
the sale of drink that tho increased
consumption of opium by the work
ing classes is to bo attributed. Opi
um is cheaper than alcohol, and two-
penco will give more present case
than sixpennyworth of tho latter.
Nor when first commenced doos its
use produce such unpleasant after
effects as an intoxicuting dose of
alcohol.
Nono pardons like a mother, who
kisses the offence into everlasting
forgiveness.
Wo asked a girl what sho wanted
most and sho said a “lover.”
We askod a wife what she wanted
most aud sho said, “kind words from
my husband and children to bear his
name.”
Wo asked a boy what lie wanted,
and. ho said, “a sweetheart and a
happy homo.”
We asked a miser what he wanted,
and ho replied, “golu, more gold.”
Wo asked a gadding woman what
sho wanted, and sho replied, “dress
and moro nows to carry to my neigh
bors.”
We askod a mother what sho want
ed, and sho said, “my darlings to
love mo.”
The curious proposition that tho
strength of animal constitutions is
proportionate to the specific gravity
of the body has been advanced in a
work recontly published at Leipsio,
written by Professor Jager, Tho
author thinks that an undue propor
tion of water in tho tissues of the
body is an essential condition of lia
bility to diseaso, lie favors gymnas
tic exercises as a preventive of diseaso
among tho young, by reason of tho
porspimtion thus induced.
“Cffisar, what bocomo of dat dar
key who stolo the taller?” “He has
boon takon up on affadavy, und car-
iif<l up io flu; sperm court to had it
tried.” “On an affadavy, Cm ay?”
“Yes, I seed do handle of it,”