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== YOLUME Till. DUBLIN,. GEORGIA, YTEDNESDAY, APRIL 21. IfcSG. NUMBER XLIII. TOWN AND COUNTY CITY OFFICIALS. MayOr.—J. C. Scarborough. Aldermen —M. ft. Jonhs. J: B. Wolfe. R. M. Arnau, Dr. G. P. Green, D. A. Smith. ' Clerk.—E. J. Tarpley. Marshal.—W. R. Hudson, i COUNTY OFFICIALS. Ordinary.—John T. Duncan. Sheriff.-J. C. Scarborough. Clerk and Treasurer.—Handy Smith, ; Tax Receiver.—F. D. Beall. Tax Collector.—J. B. Jones. Surveyor.—Ira V. Hilbua. Coroner.—James Barfield. COURT DIRECTORY s ' —FOR— laurens county. Court of Ordinary . 1st Monday in each .month. Judge.—John T. Duncan. Sheriff 8 ales.- .month. -1st Tuesday in each Superior Courts. 4th Monday in January and July. • Judge.—C. C Kibhce, Solicitor General.—C. C. Smith. iounty Court. Monthly “Sessions.—2d Monday in each month. Quarter Sessions—2d. Monday in Jan uary, April, July and November. Judge.—Mercer Haynes Solicitor.—Thos. B. Felder Jr. Bailiff—T. B, Hudson. Justice Courts. 342d. Dist. (Dublin) 1st. Friday in each K.H. Walker J.-P. D. P. Robinson N. P. 343d. Dist. (Pine Tuckoy) 1st Saturday In each month. J. C. Bracewell J. P. (Dennis McLendon N. P. 18071h. Dist. (Lowrys) 8dSaturday in each month. I. aawr Miller .T. P. J. F. Currie N. P. 13C8th Dist. (Burch) 2d Saturday in each month, C. J. Clark J. P. John Burch N. P. ' 1809tli. Dist. (Reedv Springs) 4th Satur- R. ^KngsLldjfpl P. E. Grinstead N, P, 344th Dist. (Hnmpion’s Mill) 3d Ihiday in each mopth. N. M. Colder J. P. S, T, Darsey N. P. 345th Dist. (Harvaid’s) 2d Saturday, in each month. WSlliam Gilbert J. P. D. J. Pearce N. P. i 341«aDist, (Burgamies) 8d Saturday in each month. W. A. Wood J. P. N. S: Dixon N. P. 391m Dist. (Bailey’s) 2d Saturday in each nonth. ' ' ' - 3 J. B. Peiry J. P. J; L C Stanley N. P. 86th Dist. (BucKeye) 1st Saturday in each month. E. M. Lake J. P. J. L. Jones N. P. 1809th Dist (Jackson's) 1st Saturday in each month. John L. Keen. W. T. Bedgood N. P, B2d Dist. (Smith’s) 1st Saturday in each month. A. T. Shell. Bennett KeaN. P. 1338th Dist. (Oconee) 4th Saturday in each month. M. Thicpen J. P. John Wilkes N. P. HAVE YOU TAKEN' THE ATLANTA CONSTITUTION FOR 1886? If not. lay this paj^r down and send for It right now. If you want it every day. send for the Daily, which costs $10.00 a year, or $5.00 for six months or $2.50 for three months.. If you want it every week, send for the’ Great Weekly, which costs $1,25 a year or $5,00 for Clubs of Five. THE WEEKLY G0N- , STITUTIOM Is theChcapest! Biggest and Best Paper Printed in America! •It Las 12 pages chock full of news;* gos ■ sip and sketches every week. It prints 4nere romance than the story papers, «<>rc •farm-news than the agricultural papers, ...more fun than the humorous papers—be Sides all the news, and . Bill Arp’s and Betsy Hamilton’s letters, Uncle Remus’s Sketch es! —AND— ■ '• ?; TA'LM AGE’S SERMONS. •Costs 2 Cents a Week! | It comes once week—takes a wiiole week (to read it! .... V.- . Von can’t well farm or keep house with out it!- * Write your name on r postal card, ad dress it to us, and we will send you Speci men Copy Fusil Address TJIE CONSTITUTION.; SOMEBODY. Somebody coming into the world. Somebody’s leaving it, somebody weeps Somebody’s bark on life’s stream is whirled, Somebody gaily glides over the deeps. Somebody somewhere is laughing to-night, Somebody’s singing while somebody sighs— ' . Somebody somewhere’s quaffing the bright Fruit of the grape—wh He somebody dies. Somebody’s heart is bursting with joy, Somebody’s starving somewhere alone, Somebody’s praying for somebody’s boy— Somebody suffers and making no moan.. Somebody’s hand is lifted on high— Somebody’s" heart is riven in twain; Somebody somewhere hears somebody cry Arid the river flows Smoothly .again. Somebody’s dirge is suncr by the waves, „ Somebody nevermore sorrow will know; Somebody Dame Fortune’s fickleness b raves Soifiebodj’s soul’s as pure ah the snow; Somebody’s heart’s as black as the night, Somebody eyes are closed—ncath the sod; Somebody’s soul was too weak for the And so it soared upward—to Godt THE DOCTOR’S STORY. GHOST “Believe in spirits?” said the old doctor, “I’m a spirit myself in hu- man frame, and I hope to live after the body in which I now dwell has ed away. 1 know that if I should go before my wife, 1 should like to come back and say to her that it was all right, if I Could; and I will if I can. But I have not been in Hie way of meeting “mediums,” or seeing their “manifestations.” I have hud some queer experiences in my own person, and who has not? and one of them 1 will tell you. It happened fifteen years ago, in thecity of Philadelphia. I had an odS.ee there, and a pret ty -good practice. As yet I did not keep a carriage, and I had a hard time of it in storniy weather, and, like all men; 1 sometimes caught co|d. When I did, I did not take any medicine, but managed, if possi ble, to take more than usual care of myself. And one night in Decem ber I went to bed .early, intending to stay there until morning. The bell might ring as much as it would, I should notamswer it. My own pa ; tients wore n«ne of them in any dan ger, and u newono would find a doc tor anywhere in the street, which was full of offices. {Jo, with a sigh’ of satisfaction, I swallowed a glass of something hot, tied up my threat and tucked myself between the blank? cts. Usually I loft a light burning. On this occasion 1 put it out, and the total darkness helped me to go to sleep more rapidly ilia’ll usual. “I certainly slept soundly, and I awoke with a start, and a sensation of cold that was almost painful. . “ ‘A chill, I suppose,’ I said to myself, as I opened my eyes; and then I saw that the room was light —it had been, as I said, utterly dark —and that the figure of a woman stood at the foot of the bed. She was pale and fair, and I could see that her eyes were blue. She had a gray cloak of some sort wrapped about her, half over her head—I tninkitwnsa hood—and her gnze was so intense that it startled me. “Who are you, and what do you want?’ I asked. “And a faint voice answered in a whisper: “ ‘lam Margaret. I arn Marga ret* I am John’s Margaret. Go to him.’ “ ‘What is the matter with him? I asked; . “ ‘Go,’ she said. ‘You must go. What will the children do if ho dies? Go! Lapps Court, number four. Go!” “ Then she was gone, and the light see m ed to go _ with her. As | felt my way to the lamp, I remem bered that it had not been like lamp light, and there was no moon that -night. ■- - “N y man who is fit to be a doctor Will r.-fuse to attend an urger.t. sum- inbns while ho can walk. All res< - lutions to the contrary arc forgotten when the call comes. “ 1 dressed myself hastily, and would have hurried out of the door, but, to my surprise, .1 found it fast bolted. Thcro was.uootlipr door to)right. the room, but that which led into one belonging to the other occupants of the house. This, also, was bolted! on the inside. I searched the place; —a very easy task, for it had no hid ing places but a pantry and the chimney—and decided that my visi tor was the phantom of a dream. Still, now that I was dressed, I re solved that I would sec it out, and locking my door behind mo, I went out into the street. “The outer door was well fastened, and the key was ot) the nail where my landlady always hung it; The mystery deepened. “I went out into the street and hurried toward Lapps Court. A court is an institution peculiar to Putladelphia; an -alley-1 iko place, never a thoroughfare, but blocked across the end by a house, similar to those which face each other on eith er side, often so nearly that their in habitants could shake hands from their windows, were they disposed to be so friendly. The front, doors open into the lower room. And as I entered Lapps Court, 1 saw that there was a light in No. 4, while all the rest were in utter dark ness. “I advanced to the door, put my hand.on the lock? and found that it opened, without resistance, into a small living room. A stove, in which a fire burnt dimly, a rag car pet, some chairs, and a largo crib, in which two children lay asleep, were all I saw at first., Then the faint light of a glittering candle revealed to <ne the figure of a man lying on his face upon the floor. I rushed toward him, and saw that he. held, elutehed in his hand, a bottle label- eled ‘Poison.’ To stoop over him, to And that be still lived and to makl 1 my way to the apothecary’s, the lights in whose windows had at* met ed my notice as I passed it, occupied but a few moments. The apotheca ry himself, a kindly old man, prom ised to follow me, and did so. “Together wo restored the man to consoioMshcss and suffering, and finally to his senses. Then he told us a pitiful tale. His wife was dead. He had two children, who were but babies. Life wus worthless to him without the woman lie loved, and he had lost his situation in a store. “I could not collect my thoughts,’ he said. 'I made a mistake, and lost the proprietor five dollars, and he dismissed tile. People are kind- hearted; they would feed those ba bies. As for me, I’m done for, used up, wiped out. I don’t cure for life, or life for mo.’ “Then lie looked about him in a curious way. “ ‘How did you come to find me?’ he said. ‘I did not think any one would come until morning, though, of course, I left Lho door unlocked. Our neighbor would come in to see the children when they clod. She is a good woman.’ “ ‘I suppose your neighbor called me,’ I said. “ ’Good old soul,’ said lie; ‘she meant well, but I wish she had not done it.’ “ ‘This was a young woman with blue eyes,’ said I. ‘Why, there hangs the cloak she wore, and 1 pointed to a gray one on a hook near the door. Margaret she said she was; John’s Margaret.’ “Tne man lifted- himself on his elbow.” ■* “ ‘My wife was named Margaret,’ he said. ‘I am John. What do you mean?’ ; “I told him my story, the old apothecary listening the while. An<! when I hud finished the man hid his faco in his hands and wept like a child. - “ ‘I am content to live.’ he said. ‘It.was my wife who sent yon to mo. That was wlmt she constantly said to me, “Yon must live for the chil dren’s sake.” I believed that when wc died wc slept and wore nothing. Sho believed in heaven, and promised to return and provo that she was Somehow—how, God only knows—-she cable to me, and I am content to live and do my best, for wo shall meet again someday. You saw my Margaret’s spirit.’ “That is what ho thought of it,” said the doctor. “I only toil the 9tory; explain it on any oilier thoo- ry, if yoit can. “John is alive now and getting on very well. His little girls are growu up, and his homo is comfortable and happy; but lie is very constant to Margaret’s memory.” “ ‘I looked forward with joy to death,* he often says, ‘for I shall meet her on the other side and be happy once again.’ ”—N. Y. Ledger. Buried in a Stone Jar, Near Burkesviile, Ky., on the Cumberland river, a man named Ra ven was one day fishing off the bank. This was in 18*36, or a year later. The bonk was of clay, six or eight feet above the water, and Raven sat with his legs hanging over. He had been sitting there for an hour, swing ing HR heel$ against the bank, when his foot struck something which gave out a curious sound, and lie in stinctively looked down. Between his feet he saw a stone jar, or at least a portion of one, protruding from the bank. It was at least four feet below the surfcce, and ho had con siderable trouble to unearth it. When lie had done so, however, and re moved the wooden cover fastened over the month, he found the con tents to consist of a gold watch, three or four gold rings, six silver teaspoons, $500 in Kentuoky^ State bank bills, $5Q^in-gdW,'f20’1h silver half Hollars, and about a quart of dimes and five cent pieces. Alt hough the jar was tightly corked, the damp.: ness had got in and mildewed the bank notes until they fell to picees in his hands. Had they been all right, however, they would have been of no intrinsic value, as all the state bank circulation had giver! place to greenbacks. Speculation as to who planted the jar brought no cluo to the owner further than that it could have been no resident of the county. It hud probably been in the ground many years, for the river had been eatfng away at the bank with each freshet, and finally brought a portion of the jar to light. It must have been buried six or eight feet froth the bank at first. ' Stewart’s Lust Dinner. The Inst Sunday dinner at the A. T. Stewart palace was a momorablo one. Lord Mandoville was thore, Hon. John Bigelow and Pierropont Edwards, Judge Hilton, of course, and eight other gentlemen beside the host, Mrs. Stewart being absent One of the gentleman invited being taken sick, sent his regrets, and thuis to Hilton’s annoyanco and Stewart’s absolute dread, there was just thirteen sat down at the table. Hilton offered to leave so as to re duce the number to twelve. But Stewart and the rest would not spare him. No one else could bo askpd to leave. Stewart couldn’t leave him self, aiid so, with a strange forebod ing the millionaro poured out the blue seal for his guests. Eight days later the millionaire lay dead in a chamber near the dining room, and the blue seal hus not been poured out since.—.Yew York Mercury. SENORITA LOPEZ. Tn» HANDSOMEST FEDERAL SPY. Honest industry is always reward ed.’ No young man need complain of being kept poor if he rolls up his sleeves and goes cheerfully to work. If there is one match * that has been struck, lying in a box with ten thousand good ones, a man is al ways sure to get that identical second hand match when ho has occasion to light the gas at mid night. The largest clock ever known is that in the cathedral at Scntsburg, it is one hundred feet long, thirty foot wide and fourteen feet deep, and hus been in use for three bun- dr*) ycore. When the Senoritn Maria Lopez made her appearance in Atlanta du ring the siege alio oreated a decided sensation among tho gallant officers who were fighting all day and dano- ing all nigh!;. The Senoritu was pretty. Her flashing eyes seemed to look right, through a mun, and her rnunner of fluttering a fan was too eloquent for anything. Just whore tho.Sonorita Lopez came from no one knew. She suid that her father a New Orleans refugee, was in Rich mond, and that in returning from a \isit to friends m Charleston she .had recoived instructions to await his arrival here. Of oouree this ex planation was satisfactory, and if there had been any doubt tho young lady’s glittering diamonds, bright eyes, and ardent Confederate prin ciples would have won the day. We were not entirely gi ven over to sackcloth and ashes during the siege. Balls and receptions took place ut most overy night; and there wore various amateur entertainments. In all tho festivities of the time the tho charming Spanish senoritn bore horpart. She was tho acknowl edged belle of the siege, and her al most reckless daring completely fas cinated the officers, from tho general down. Ono thing about Maria Lo pez delighted ns. Federal shells had no terrors fpr her, and when other ladies shrieked and ran off uncero- mouiously from their visitors to plunge into. a. bojnb-proof, this brilliant and fearless' creature would- simply clap her hands and make some scornful remark about the wretched aim of tho Yankee gun- nors. After our fortifications'around the. city had been noarly completed, the senoiita rode out every day with some of her military adnitrers to view the works. Thit was rather perilous. Stray bullets and shells were always whizzing by, and it was a common thing to srou gcnorul or a colonel dodge behind a tree. But it was soon noticed tlmt tho senoritu never evou ducked her proud little hoad. Sho would sit on her horso like a statue, and laugh in derision when her escorts proved thomsolves tinuble to stand thp racket., “Oh, I would give anything to bo a soldier!” she said one day, after looking through Colonel Blank’s field glass. “I wpnld glory in the opportunity’of showing men how to fight and die for a great cause.” Perhaps this was too intense, too bombastic, but in thoso days every thing that wo wrote and sfioko wus in this fervid strain; So tho sen- orita’s talk provoked no comment, except a tribute of admiration. One day our heroine passed me at a gallop on her way back from- the breastworks/ Something whitaflut- tored down from her riding habit. 1 picked it up but the lady was out of sight, riding liko tho wind. Thought-, lessly I allowed tho paper to come open. What I suw troubled me not a little. I saw traced out in detail the plan of fully half r/f our forts and trenches. Tho paper also con tained the location of cortaih govern ment buildings, and an estimate of our forces. There was bat ono thing to do. 1 hated to get a pretty woman into trouble, but I had to do my duty. In an hour’s time tho paper was in tho handa of the provost-marshal. The next day I was brought faco to face with Maria Lopez. The hear ing was in private, and a circle of colonels and majors sat around the accused, frowning at me ns if I had been guilty of somo criminal act. When I related tho circumstances attending tho finding of tho paper, tho littlo Spaniurd looked at tho of ficers with u merry smile. “1 dunk.” said she, “that you don’t care to hear from me. I will say, however, tbut I iiuyor saw the paper, und therefore could not have dropped it. The young man per haps found it, but hecou)d not l&ve soon mo drop it.” She smiled sweet ly on the provost-marshal. “Aheml” said that individual. “Thero must be somo mistake here. Wo do not doubt your fidelity, sir, but we lmd hotter hear no moro of this.” I was dumbfounded and abashed. Knowing very littlo about tho ways of the world, I hastily rotired, thank ing my stars that Iliad saved my head In a day or two tho Senoritu Lopez disappeared. Hor lovers did not have time to mourn her loss, be- cause Slocum's corps crossed tho Chattahoochee, and our forces had to got ont in a hurry. But I wiu destined to boo tho senbritn again. Many of us failed to follow Hood’s army south. Wo woro whirled about in snob a vortex of confusion that we wore glad to escape with our lives. Among other flotsam and jetsam l was thrown beyond the Federal lines. Stranded in Nash ville, at that timo a vast military camp, I felt badly ouougli. I could not go south, aiid I cotild not get a pass to go nortii. ‘ One nigiit I went to tho theat.ro., Duringono of the scenes there was a buzz, and peoplo stogd up to look at a man in tho * css circle just abovo my head, rially I rose, as somebody said: “He is the most successful guerilla and spy "oh tho Union side.” I stood up until my face was on a level witli tho railing of tho dress It was a wonder that I didn’t faint. Looking calmly, mockingly, into my eyes wao tho handsomest man l over saw. lie was dretmed in a glit tering uniform, qhd woro diajnondij. That clear cut, dark face, thoso t ic loft oar—thero could be no nus- take. I seized my overcoat and rushed out ofitho door just in time to hear tho alleged Sonorita Lopoz say in » voice like a bugle: “Arrest that man.” A wave of darkness came over me J An officer caught mo by the arm. I felt that I was lost. If tho : Senorita was not only a mau, but an enemy, I had no mercy to hope for, Thore was a sudden tumult, wild cry of fire, and then a crowd snrgod down tho stairway. When I picked myself up the officer who had arrest ed me lay on thp sidewalk with a fraotured skull. I limped quietly away, and took the out-going train for Louisville. I had no passport and trusted to luck. “Passes, gentlemen,” shouted a sleepy lior.tenant, us ho passed through the car. I kopt my head bowed down, with my hat over my 0y0B. 1 v f; . •; “8co hero, show your pass,” said tho officer. A gruff man behind mo spoke up and said: . “You don’t want to hoc it twfoo. Ho<showed it to you a minute ago.” “Beg pardon,” said the soldior, slightly confused. He went on and I was safe at last. I have never scon the senorita since, and I have no desiro ever to meet her, or rather him, again. He would have had me shot as a spy beyond n doubt if Jt had not been for my lucky escape at tho theatre. ■—Atlanta Constitution. Killed by Prohibition Hitter*. Ala PAHA, April 14.—Yesterday morning a negro died suddenly about two miles oast of this place, It soems that the negro had been on a pro- trap ted spree on “bitters,” a prepara tion which is being sold in this sec tion in spile of the law against soil ing intoxicating drinks, and whilo the jury was satisfied that apoplexy, of which he died, wus superinduced by lho “bitters,” yet ijjoy did not feel qnito sure enough that s»ch wna tjio caso tv so stale in their verdict, Ono or two other nuddeu deaths iu iIjiB.segtjpn have been credited by rumor ffitJ) lhe«c bitWr»,