Newspaper Page Text
—..■■—I.
VOL. 2.
DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 26,1870.
NO. 23
GIN EVISA’S PRINCE.
“Well, Pierre, how goes the world
with yon now-a-days?” said Gerald
Castleton to the village hair-dresser.
“About as usual, Mr. Gerald.
And how is the squire and my lady?”
“They were all well hist week.
By the by, Pierre, I have an order
from Miss Austrother for you. She
is to have a tableau party next week
and as licr young lady friends are
mostly of the brunette type, she
means to transform some of them,
by your help, into blondes.”
“All right,” was the cherry an
swer. “I’ll do my best to . please.
But here comes a head of hair for
you,” and Pierre made a gesture to
call the young man’s attention to a
girl of perhaps twelve years of age,
who was just entering. “Good
morning little one,” he continued,
with a friendly nod; “but what is
the matter?” for a glance at her face
showed that she had been crying.
“Oh, Mr. Duval, my mother is
sick, and the doctor says she must
have three different, kinds of medi
cine, and beef tea, and lots of things
sind we have no money to bay them.
It seemed to me sis though my heart
would break when I heard what he
said. Then I (bought of my hair.
For a man came along one day, and
told mother he would give her—oh!
snch a lot of money for it. But she
wouldn’t let him have it. You will
buy it, won’t you?” and Ihc childish
voice had a plaintive quiver in it
which went straight to the hearts of
the two listeners.
Pierre Duval was fully sensible of
the great value of the silky locks,
which hung like ji tawny, gold-
fleckcd mantle down almost to the
girl’s feet. But he was scrupiteously
just in all his transaction*, and lie
put away the temptation to take
the child at her word* and buy her
hair, although some rival dealer
might, grin thus the prize.
“I must not rob the poor mother
of a treasure she sets such store by,
child. She would never forgive
me.”
“Then she will die, and they will
put her in the cold grave! just as
they did my father. Yon are cruef
instead of kind, and I will go to Mr.
Renean,” and with a passionate
stamp of her tiny foot the girl turn
ed away.
Gerald had been an interested lis
tener. Now he drew near, with a
pleasant light in his dark eyes.
“Let us see if you and I cannot
make a bargain,” be said smilingly.
“I will give you a purse filled w ; tli
sovereigns, and in return, every sin
gle hair on your head will belong to
me. Is that fair?”
“Yes,” said'the child tremulous
ly.
Then Gerald took a pair of shears,
and lifting one long curl, severed it
from mates and coiled it into a shin
ing ring. Then lie drew out his
pocket book and placed his treasure
within it, as he said to the wonder-
ing girl:
“I only want a sample of my prop
erty, so as to be sure of the color.
Now, remember your hair is no long
er your own—it is mine. Take good
care of it.” With a parting nod to
Pierre, and an injunction not to fail
to execute his cousin’s order, he went
his way,,after slipping a netted silken
purse filled with gold into Goncvra’s
hand.
“He’s just the same as ever,” mur
mured Pierre. “When a might of a
chap, if he saw a beggar, he wasn’t
satisfied till he’d emptied his pockets
for him. Bless his kind heart!”
Then he turned toward the girl. “It
is all right,” he said, kindly. “Mr.
Gerald has more money than he
knows what to do with. I am glad
lie hnppt-ned to he here. Bun home
and tell your mother to hurry up
and get well, for the money the
young master has given you will buy
all she’ll ueed for some time to
come.”
“The gentleman did not give it to
me,” said the child, “he paid it to
me for my hair.” The air of uncon
scious dignity with which she cor
rected Pierre’s mistake amused him
greatly.
“She’s a born lady,” he thought
to himself. “There’s no pauper
blood in her, I’ll bo bound. I doubt
me if she’d take a cent even from me
as a gift. She’d starve first.” Then
he said aloud: “You are right. It
was a fair bargain. Tell your moth
er so.”
The next week Gerald left the city
for Briarlie, his fathers place, and in
a few months started on an extended
tour which lasted for several years.
All remembrance of this little epis
ode would have faded away but for
the curl lie bad cut from amongst
the shilling sisterhood. It had a
fashion of occasionally turning upas
he ransacked amid his papers for data
of events at home, and then he would
wonder what had become of the
pretty child whose sorrowful appeal
had so interested him.
At last he was home again. Many
changes had taken place during his
absense. Ilia favorite cousin, Miss
Blanche Anstruther, had married
and left Briarlie, which had been her
home since her parent’s death. The
stately old squire, his father had
grown quite infirm, and his mother's
dark hair was thickly threaded with
silver. But there was no change in
the loving hearts which welcomed
his return.
Among other invitations came one
from his cousin Blanche. Her hus
band had an estate in the High hinds,
where there was excellent hunting
and fishing. Would he join them
in the autumn?
Gerald concluded to .go. Weeks
rolled on and soon brought the ap
pointed time.
* “Cousin^ Gerald/’. said Blanche,
“I expect you to make things pleas
ant for my young lady guests. I am
particularly anxious to have Miss
Glvdon enjoy herself, for she has re
fused an invitation from her grace
the Duchess of Sirathearn to come
tome. She was the belle of the sea
son in Loudon this winter. Every
one was raving about her!”
‘And you mean to say, Blanche,
that yon are willfully about to expose
me to Buell dangerous, fascinations?”
asked Gerald, with mock seriousness.
“Well, I’ll do my best to please you ;
but. belles are not at all to'my taste.
I-” *
“Hush! here she is now whispered
Blanche wariiingly.
Gerald looked up. A.slender gill
drowsed in spotless white stood in
the doorway. Not an ornament of
any kind interferred with the severe
simplicity of her toilet. But the ab
sence of jewels made her remarkable
beauty only the more striking.
“My cousin, Mr. Castleton, Miss
Glydon.”
For an instant the large, blue eyes
turned their full brilliance upon Ger
ald’s face. Then, with a graceful
inclination of her proud little head,
she passed on to where his tiny
nephew Hugh was amusing himself
with a gavly illustrated Mother
Goose. As Gerald, looked he grew
bewildered. An intangible resem
blance in Miss Glydon’s face to some
long dormant memory puzzled him.
Miss Glydon! He said the name
over and over again to himself, but
he could not place her. Suddenly,
with a ringing, laugh, Master Hugh
reached up one dimpled hand and
seizing hold of the tall tortoise shell
comb which towered above her shape
ly head and held in the place the
heavy coils of golden hair, wound
about in a simple, cornet-like fashion
pulled it from its place.
“Now, the pretty lady looks like
the picture,” he exclaimed, triumph
antly, pointing to his book.
“My darling boy, how could you!”
exclaimed his mother. “I hope you
will pardon him, Miss Glydon. He’s
truly a spoiled child.”
“I beg to differ with yon/’ said
Gerald, coming to the rescue, and
catching Hugh op in Bis arms.
“The boy has an artist’s eye. He
saw that we had among ns the ‘Fair
One of the Golden Locks,’ and he
vcjy properly wished to call attention
to the fact. I for one thank him.”
“But I fear Miss Glydon does not
share in your feelings, Gerald,” said
the annoyed hostess glancing at her
guests.
But by this time all traces of
Hugh’s mischievous feat had van
ished; Miss Glydon’s slender fingers
had gathered up the mass of burn
ished gold, and she had again wonnd
it around her head and replaced her
comb. She wasevidently not offond-
cd, and Hugh’s mamma breathed
freely again.
“Did you ever see such a magnifi
cent head of hair in your life?”asked
Blanche of Gomld, afterward; “6o
long and silky, and of such a pecu
liar, tawny gold-color.”
“Yes,” said Gerald, slowly, “I
have. But only once/’
That night, after he wont to his
room, it was to dream.of a faeo with
pansy-blue eyes, and of a proud
young head bending from its stately
poise to play with a tiny boy.
Until now he had been fancy free.
But this girl, with her mingled dig
nity and sweetness, bad completely
captivated him.
“Who is Miss Glydon?” he asked,
one day, of his cousin.
“There is quite a romantic story
connected with her,” was the an
swer. “Her father and mother
made a runaway match.and incurred
the displeasure of their' families.
They spent their brief married;*life
in poverty. The husband died 'first
and then the wife.- The grandpar
ents relented—when it was too late
and took Gineyra home. : She spends
part of her time with one Set of rela
tions, and part with the othci.
They all idolize her.”
“And well they may if she has
fulfilled the |promise of her child
hood;” for Gerald find at last recog
nized Gmpyra,,
“ W by, what do you know of her?”
tasked Blmine wnmhiiri n pi y
But Gerald iuid'disappeared.
Invitations wore out',for a fete.
The guests were tompplir in fancy
costumes appropriate to the sylvan
character of the entertainmeut,
whieli was to be an out-door one.
It was a brilliant scene. Robin
Hood in bis dress of green, surround
ed by a band of merry archers? Di
ana, the virgin-.huntress/ crowned
with her silver •crescent, and curry
ing a bow and quiver; woodland
fairies weuring their emblem flowers;
water sprites, and other quaint and
rural impersonations.
Gerald had learned from Blanche
that Ginevra Glyndou was to appear
as Undine. So for purposes of his
own, he took the character of Nep
tune—although no one could recog
nize him, as lie came upon the
grounds, leaning upon a huge tri
dent, and with long iron-gray hair
and beard hanging down upon his
shoulders and breast.
Ginevra was dressed in some thin,
shining material spaugled thiokly.
with pearls. Around her neck was’
clasped a necklace of tiny brilliants
from which hung a magnificent pen
dant which caught the light at every
motion. A wreath • of water-lilies
with some half-open buds drooped
low over her white forehead. Her
hair hung in long, shining waves al
most to her feet, and through jt
were twisted strings of pearls with
pow aud then a diamond flashing
out its white light like a drop ol
dew. She stood by a fountain which
threw its crystal spray high lip into
the air from the mouth of adofphin,
and fell in its return upon the bent
head of a marble wuternymph, in
millions of sparkling drops. Giue-
vra looked the very spirit of the
scene.
After a time a page approached,
bearing an exquisite bo,v made of
rt, li /-> «• • j. }.l ‘I* Hi*
tirely out of her life. She turned
toward the approaching figure, loo
surprised and oxcited to continue to
assume a part.:
“I pray yon,” sho said, entreating-
ly, “to tell me what yon know about
the noble youth to whom I owe snch
a debt of gratitude. Where is ho
that I may seek him out and thank
him?” X
“Gome with me,” was the answer,
“and you shall know.”
Then (flerald led her to a seat be
neath a giant oak. The next im -
ment he rffinoyed his musk, with its
accompaniment of flowing Imir and
bbarfl, and stooyLbcjfQre.imrwitlUiis
ardent sdul looking from his eager
eyes. .
1 “Do you know mo?” hocried'soft;-
“MVi Giistleton!” exclaimed Giuo-
>vn tf A T to think I did not recog-
nizenyou? But you have changed so
much lb is no wonder. Would you
like to see yourself us you looked* on
that morning?” and she detached the
massive pendant from her chain ami
touched a spring. It flow open and
revealed to Gerald a miniature in
ivory of himself, in bis early youth.
The f ruble eves, and the smiling
mouth, ^he luxuriant dark curls,
the poise of the haughty heed—all
were there. For a moment he look
ed at it. Then lie turned to Ginevra
in surprise. She anticipated his
question.
“You wish to know how I came
by it. I painted it from memory,
and it 1ms been niy daily prayer, iis
each morning I have, looked at tlib
picture, that some time! might meet
and thank the original. The most
fervent, desire of my life is granted.
Oh, sir, tell mo how can 1 best, prove
my gratitude. For through vou my
poor mother’s last moments wore
made comfortable, and but for you
she would 1 Have been, laid, to rest In a
pauper’s grave!”
“May I tell you?” said Gerald
softly.
Ginevra raised her eyes question-
ingly; but they drooped in sudden
confusion before his earnest gaze.
“By giving nie"vonrself,” he con
tinued, with a thrill of passion vibm-
/ing frotm the deep, mellow tones of
his voicBy/y“-F/db'• not; ask yop
thoughtlessly, Ginevra, for my heart,
is filled with your’ sweet image. 1
love you. Will you be my wife?”
Giuevra’s face shown with a happy
light. It was but taking the reality,
in tho.place-of the shadow. For her
heart had been flllecl with Gerald’s
inntgc since I lie never-to-be-forgotten
morning when lie came into her
young life like a prince in a fairy
tale.
“It is ovidentlyou were made for
each other.” suidjBlanohe/wlien she
hud listened to uitievra’s story. “I
always wondered that Gerald ("lid not
marry. But I see now—he was
waiting for you.”
\ .. : i = .
OUR “ATTACHMENT.”
And Some Points Concerning It.
Atlanta, Ga., Nov. 7.—Since
the publication of my letter on the
Clement attachment and its opera
tion • I have received ii large number
of letters asking for further informa
tion concerning it. It is impossible
for mo to answer these letters by
private mail, and I take this method
of answering all the question* at
once. I shall answer the questions
in order, and believe that 1 cover
every inquiry made, except that of
one w ri fceiy wjio asked niore q uestibus
than will'ever bo permitted any man
to answer.
First. The fucts stated in mv letter
weio .derived from the most careful
investigation, and may bo relied op
as correct. There are six Clement
gu T ,■.,., jyrrrirr .. „
Ginevra with -a low ^obesiance say
ing:
“Neptune, the monarch of the
sea, sends.'greeting to his sister sov
ereign, Undine, and„bogs an inter
view.” *
Ginevra bowed with stately grace,
as she answered in the same spirit:
“His wish is granted. I await his
royal pleasure.”
Then, as the page returned to his
master with her message, she pressed
upon the dainty spring which fasten
ed the box, auu it flew open, discing*
ing a coil of tawny-eold hair, lying
beneath a card upon which was writ
ten a date and ii name—that of
Pierre Dnval. Like a flash came
back to her the scene which hud-oc
curred so long ago, and whose chief
actor hud disappeared again so en-
mills in operation, and each one of
T- ----© - :i—v* the six arrives at the same conclu-
Z 't 01 «•
Ginevra with- a ibw 'obGaiimon «iv. ( ^ cs ' Csei) pubhshed account agrees
Every published account agrees
with the facts stated in all. There
ifi no room to doubt the correctness
of any of tho facts us given to me
and contained in my letters.
Second. Every man should examine
one of these mills in operation be
fore investing in it. An hour of
actnal examination is worth a week
of written or verbal explanation. It
may he that one expert may find
some defect or difficulty that would
not appear to tho casual eyes. While
the newspaper writers have been
careful and elaborate they rmty have
been deceived. Not a day has passed
for a week that I have not given one
or more persons letters of i n trod notion
to Westminister. Every one who has
returned has come back more than
satisfied. Still the next man who
goes might find something ill-adapted
to his own special ease. I am satis
fied that, the mill will urguo its own
case. 1 therefore advise ovory one
thinking of investing to go and
examine it By personal inspection.
Third. The mill most convenient
to reach is situated at Westminister,
S. 0. This is a small station on the
Air-Line road. It is 110 mile? from
Atlanta. A person can leave Atlanta
on the 4 o’clock morning train of the
Air-Lino, and reach Westminister by
9 o’clock. The mill is two miles out
on Ohoestoo creek. Messrs. Varner
& Stribling, merchants at Winches
ter, cun furnish hacks or buggies at
reasonable figures. Tho mill can be
reached by 10 o’clock, and it is in
constant operation. Tlie visitor cfm
leave the mill at 5 o’clock in tlie
evening, toko the down train of the
Air-Lino at about 0 o’clock, and
reach Atlanta at 11 o’clock at night.
Tho total cost of tho trip should not
reach $10.
Fourth. Mr. J. A’. Stribling. one
of the proprietors of the Westminister
mill, is interested in the sale of new
mills, lie is the agent of the mill
for sovoral states, including Georgia,
lie is, however, tin uhusifitlly intelli
gent practical mechanic, and tjior-
onglily understands tlie whole theory
of the attachment. 1 do not, think
lie would dbeeivo any one,,but on the
contrary I find bin* frank, careful
and cautions of his <»pluliVtiai.'.fiitd•
built his own mill before- lie ev^r
thought of being an agent for tlie
heirs of Clement, and built it after a
thorough examination of tho mill at
work at Anderson: Indeed,' his en
thusiasm on t,he subjdot }ifter;;tryiiig
his own mill,'first, suggested In Mr.
Whitfield tO;.i»ffer hiim tlie general
agency.^ ‘ •
Fifth, / While I feel perfectly as*
sureil^ that Mr. Stribling would not
mislead any 4 )dsftor, and while the
very sinjpfieity of the mill in.opera
tion would tell its own «tdry,*stijl
there may bo persons wlio wish to
visit a mill owned by one who 1ms no
interest in building new mills. These
can find a mill double the size of the
Westminister at Windsor, N. 0.,
owned and managed by Mr. C. F.
Harden, a most excellent and reliable
gentlomun, whose interest, in the
matter begins and ends with bis own
mill. This point can bo reached by
the Air-Lino road, but is further
from Atlanta than Westminister.
Mr. Harden’s experieiico 1ms alretiily
been published in the Constitution,
uiid bis mill is a fine one.
Sixth. As to tho amount of capital
needed it is hard to estimate that.
The tutqj outfit for a mill that will
use 500 lionuds of seed, cotton and
make $5 a day profit, is $3,000. This
inclrtde* everything. A mill double
this size will cost about $4,000. Of
course these figures will vary. If a
man has a ten-horse power
he will need, no more,, Ino
power for a 500 pounds aaj« v
If helms a 15-horse power" engine lie
Cun run one duublcuftfis size. If he
has the powey tins can be deducted
fro|j the-cost. If he Jms a house
large enough this will also save him
the eostof buildir.ga house, especially
for the mill. It will bo safe to say
that he will neod $3,000 anyhow*
He can get time on much of this if
he desires it. Ho wifi then need
some capital witli wlrcli to accumu
late a stock of seed cotton. If a half
dozen farmers are interested they
can each contribute their own crop
of seed cotton, and thus save this
outlay. A mill like the Westminis
ter will use 150,000 pounds of seed
cotton or ono hundred bules of lujt
cotton a year. Ope-fourth of this
may be had from the fields as it j’b'
picked—but about 125,000 pounds
of seed cotton would have to be
bought and stored. This would re*
quire about $3,500 of capita) provided
it all had to ho paid for in cash. But
this capital would come right back
in the salo of yams. In six months
it might all be paid b:ck. The
Westminister men are three fi r lora
who raise about thirty bales of cm ton
each a your. They spin tlioirown
crop whioh about takos the cap mity
of the mill. I should say tha t ?;5,vj00
in cush would build and oporato a
mill whioh wonld spin one hundred
bales a year and gi\e a clear profit of
$2,000 per annum.
Seventh. As to the profits that is-
a hard thing to sot. I think it is
perfectly safe to say to say that a
$3,600 mill will pay $5 a day or
$1,825 a year, and that a $4,500 mill
will pay double this amount;. Lot us
take two examples. Mr. Stribling
sijp that hts work for tlie year foots
up as follows:
MAHriilTIBS.
t50,000 pounds seed cot-
lou at 2|c........... $4,125
Operations and coutin
! i
1,500- $5,625.
goat expo inch
1 ItlCSOUUCHB,
40.000 lbs: yarn at 15c.. 6,000
8.000 points wasted 144 . j i
8,000 bushels seed 450— 7,404
NctprolH $1,800
It will ho noticed that the yarns
are put, down here as bringing 15
cents per pound. Tho usual price
Mr. Stribling says is 10 to 17 cents,
but lie projHMod to put the figures
low rather than high.
Mr. 0. !.<\ Harden, of Winohoster,
says: ’ .
“Wo "iiso 1,000 pounds of seed
oottoii per day—cost $27.50. Our
running expenses are; engineer $1,
fmffiian $2.20, four girls at 50 cents
Giioii*—$2, four girls at forty cents
oiteh —$1,(10. wood for engine $1,
total $7.80—mid the cost of seed
cotton (27.50) and we have $35.30
as our total daily expense. With
this we nmko each day 300 pounds
of yarn which xVfe sell at 10 to 17
cents. At 10 cents we would have
as our ttaily mooino $48, which would
give thcnv4 net daily profit of about
$12—at47 cents it would bo over $15.
Mr. Harden, however, puts his profit
at $8 to $10 a day, or over $3,000 a
y^ur. This I am satisfied is at tho
very lowest mark.
Eighth. Thore is no difficulty in
getting all the seed cotton that is
needed. Tire farmers can bettor
afford tosell their cotton to tho mills
in seed than to wait and have it
gm nod, packed and marketed. The
Glemoiit giu strips tho seed so care
fully that it saves a largo per odnt of
lint wasted in other gins. Its own
ers, therefore, oan afford' to giro the
farmer just as much in cash for his
seed cotton as it would yield him in
lint from tho ordinary gin ami save
him tho trouble, delay and' expense
ol marketing it, Of courso tho
are only too glad to sell it on
these terms.
Ninth. The yarn finds a ready and
inexlmiistihle market. It is tho best
yarn made, aud all the mills report
that they con not supply the domand
of tlioir regular customers. There
will never be^iiny difficulty over sell-
i»g Hearns.
’entli. As to whoro the machinery
can bo purchased, Mr. J. V. Strlb-
ling, Westminister, 8. 0., must bo
consulted as to the Clement attach-
Pioiit part. TJiis is a very simplo
and cheap part of tho machinery—
costing only about $300. It Ims
been manufactured in ’ Memphis,
though where it is being made now
I do not know. This is the only
part of the machinery covered by
patent. Tho ginning and spinning
machinery, and motive power can bo
purchased wherever the purchaser
* , t -7. •> . J’ r r - f s *>TTr i
can get the best terms.
Twelfth. The address of all the
persons now running these mills ’ : -
follows; Westminister .M fg
Westminister, 8. Cl.; Harrison e.sl
Anderson, H. C.; 0. F. Hur
K. 0.1 (in . ,, .
thews’s Depot, N. C.; F. E. Wh
field, Corinth, Miss.
I have thus given answer to all
that I think it is suggested in (lie
letters that have been written. At
any rate I have absolutely written all
that I know about it. After next
Tuesday there will bo more to add.—
II. W. G. in Constitution.