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m* VOLUME IX DUBLIN, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 4. 1886 NUMBER VIII. Professional ards. Dr. T. F. WILLIAMS, rpaprasTTisT. tdf’Olltce at Mis Residence.-^ Simms* Building. First door below the Court House. apr21.’86,ly. Dr. . P. HOLMES, FRA TITIONER, CONDOR, - - - GEORGIA. ALLS ATTENDED TO AT ALE V ho hours. Obsterics a specialty. Office Residence. mch24, 7m. Dr. T. A. CO~L SPRINGS, GA. C ^ALLS ATTENDED TO AT ALL J hours. Obsterics a specialty. Office Residence. mch24, tf. Dr. P. M. JOHNSON, ... PRACTITIONER, _ Lovett, Georgia. Y^ALLS ATTENDED TO AT ALL K.J hours. Day and Night. mch25 tf. Dr. J. L. [SIX SCIIi 8 NORTH OF DUBLIN.] OFFERS his services to the public at large. Calls promptly attended to, day or night. Office at residence. aug20, ’84 ly. CHARLES KICKS, M. D., PRACTITIONER. Dublin; • Georgia. je20, ly DR. C. F. GREEN, PRACTITIONER!- t Dublin, • Georgia. ^ALLS ATTENDED TO AT ALL Obstetrics a specialty. Office Ohours. Residence A TRAMP’S ROMANCE. T. L. CRINER, ATTORNEY & COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Dublin - Georgia. may 21 tf. FELDER A SANDERS, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Dublin, - - Georgia, •Will practice' in tbe courts of the Oco nee, Ocmulgee and Middle circuits, ap.d the Supremo court of Georgia, and elsc- by special contract. where Will negotiate loans on improved farm' ing lands. Feb. 18th, 1885.-6m. HAVE YOU TAKEN THE ATLANTA CONSTITUTION FOR 1886? If not. lay this paper down and send for it right now. If you want it eveiy 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 CON STITUTION is the Cheapest! Biggest and Best Paper Printed in America! It Las 12 pages chock full of news, gos rints sip and sketches eveiy week. It p mere romance than the story papers, more farm-news than the agricultural papers, more fun than the humorous papers—be sides all the news, and Bill Arp's aid Bets? Hamilton's Letters, Uncle Remus’s Sketch es! ^ —AND— TALMAGE’B SERMONS. Cos 3 Ceuta a Week! t comes once week—takes a whole week o rand it! You can’t well farm or keep house with out it! Write your name on a postal card, ad dress it to ub. and wo will send you Speci men Copy Fiuek! Address THE CONSTITUTION. Land (aims A SPECIALTY, AND WARRANTS additional homestead certificates and all kinds of land script bought und sc'.d Large stock and highest prices paid. If you want to sell or buy? If so, write D. A. A. TIIOMA8, Attorney at-Law, Wash- gton, D 0 A month ago I was a tramp. Now I am rioh.. i But my wealth has not tamed my head. There is nothing mean about' me, and, consequently, 1 am even going to give away the manner in which I acquired my for tune. That is easier than giving away the fortune itself. When I get ready to do that 1 will let yon know. •One of my favorite haunts as a tramp was a Quaker neighborhood in Pennsylvania, near the line of the Pennsylvania RaTroud.’ The peoplo were benevolent, the coffee hoc, the meals square, and the dog genial in his disposition. The railroad had a siding of several hundred yards in length, and on this it frequently left trains of oil cars to cool off. As I lay in the ditoh parallel to this siding on abeantifal, Indian-summer, November day—the kind of a day when the pampered darling of the city catches puentttonia by stopping on a street-corner to talk while he is in a perspiration aud two breezes Are intersecting each other—I evolved a scheme of wealth. Above me loomed an Oil tank, and crude oil was triokling from a leak in the bottom. I thought about oil and I remembered the marvellous stories of real estate booms in the oil. couutry which 1 used to read wheu I was a proof-reader, and did my meditating on a bench in a beer saloon. Of late years my reading had .been confined to the exchanges whieh I begged at country newspaper offices for use as underclothing and blankets. In one of these I had noticed that a few cranks were boring for oil in the very county wherein I was then reposing. Geologists said there was no oil in this county; but they knew better, and so did I. There was oil in those tanks along that siding. Gonldn’t I, by hook or by crook, make an underground pipe line that would reach a duck-pond in some farm near that siding? Then couldn’t I tap one of those tanks and run some of the oil into that pipe line; discover the presence of the oil in the duck-pond, and make a stake from somebody or other as a re ward? I concluded that I could. Just then I wanted to spell it steak, but I didn’t see any prospect of making-it any quicker on that ao- count. Nextrflav the local paper of the nearest empty village published a paragraph . telling how Deacon Squeezerent’s empty house on Love street had been broken into and robbed of all the gas pipe it contained. The pipe wassuireptitiously removed to the neighborhood of tlie siding and covered with dirt, just where the railroad company was grading for an extension thereof. The fresh dirts thereaoouts enabled me to make excavations in the direction of the duck-pone on the other side of the rising ground, into which the siding had been cut, without attract ing atteuciou or exciting suspicion. I burrowed a long hole through that miserable hill, and laid the gas pipe in it, splicing it in the most in formal and unfashionabtb manner by means of old tin clippings and melt ed lead. It ran sqnarely into the duck pond. All I now needed was to tap the tank and run the oil into the gas pipe in order to produce my “indications.” But before doing this I must look after our financial interests in the matter. I sneaked into town in the dusk of the evening, and found tbe lead ing-citizens, just beginning to get drank for the night. One of them I knew well by name and sight, and from his backyard I had often borne away cold victuals. I was fortunate enough to meet him staggering along a little off. “Good evening, Mr. Snooks,said I, “how have you been this foil, sir?” “Who—-bio—are you?” inquired Snooks. “Why, I worked for you on your farm last summer.” This was a lie in all respects save the fabts implied, that Snooks had a farm, and that work was done on it last summer by some base slaves of capitftl or oth er. “Ha—hie—-I remember you uow,” said Snooks, who is thinking of ruuning for the legislature next fall, and never admits that he does remember. “Anything new.” “Nothing, sir, except that I made an interesting little discovery yes terday.” “What is it?” (t (fW n . I whispored in this ear. Snooks became exorted. “Oil! Where? where?” I calmed his perturbed spirit, giving him to understand that the seoret would be his on his proper recognition of my rights in iho premises. We diokored for* some minutes, but I finally agreed to sell him the secret for a thousand doll ars. clean cash, immediately deliver ed. I got tbe cash that night, and made an appointment to take Snooks to the duox-pond on the following day at. noon. He kicked a little ac giving the money before looking at the indications, but I consented to deposit it with a well-known saloon keeper until he should be satisfied that oil was really there. That night I jimmied a hole in the oil tahk and connected it with the gas- pipe by a piece of garden-hose. In the morning the duck-poud looked very oily. Before the morning, however, the oil-train moved off, carrying ono empty tank toward a deluded refinery. Early that morning I put in an appearance at the front gate of the farmer on whose land the duck-pond stood. My uncle in San Francisco had died and left me some mouev, and I wanted to buy a patch of ground and to go farming. Would bo sell me the irregularly bounded and swampy lot near the railroad siding? He was utterly unsuspicious He would. But ho knocked day light through my thousand dollars. 1 had barely enough left to buy a suit of olothes after paying, him, or rather I would have barely enough left, for the money was still in the saloon-keeper’s hands. The farmer was to meet me in town at two o’clock and get the money for the land. Snooks has made and lost money at Petroleum Centre, Pa., and knew oil when he saw it. He was de lighted with the looks of the duck pond, and must go over and see the owner of tho land without delay. I told him where tho farmer lived, and got him to give me a written order on the saloon-keeper for my thousand dollars. Then I went to town to see the man whom Snooks went to the farm house to see. It is needless to say that I saw him first. He introduced me to his lawyer and conveyancor, and I at once appointed the latter my con veyancer too. Then the old farmer who had sold me the duck-pond lot went home. After be had gone I instructed the conveyancer to sell my lot for whatever it would bring between $10,000 and $20,000. I bolted to town, leaving my ad dress (confidential) with the convey ancer. The next day I get a tele gram from him, reading: “Lot sold to Snooks for $15,000. i am dot a V .nderbilt, but, com paratively speaking, I am rich. It is needless to say that I worship Snooks—from a distance—Tid Bits There is a orazy man in Buffalo who imagines he is an umpire. Aud there are lots of base ball players who imagine their umpire is a crazy man.—Pittsburg Chronicle. There are little, sweet, pretty and green oases all the way through the desert of life, but the fat mau who breaks a suspender on a hot day when running to eatoh a train doesn’t think of tills.—*Boston Cou rier. Romance aud Reality. If in the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of ^love such thoughts become very serious during the summer. American girls never look more lovely thau at the sea side or in the country during thjs out-of-town season. Nature makes a most appropriate baok-grou ad for their natural oharms. The light .tobes in *yhiph they attire them selves give an almost etheroal char acter to their beauty.' In the excur sions on the lako or river, through shady woods or up long, dusty roads, they are-at their best, happy thorn- selves, and anxious to make their cavaliers happy, and yet with that femiuine dependence whioh is w<R man’s greatest attraction to a manly man. To see them is to fall in love with them. To fall in love with them is to begin a blissful rotnanoe, to whioh the sweet summer nightd, the twiukliug stars, the pale moon lend their poetry. Bub after the ro mance of making love comes tlie reality of matrimony, and this thought gives many a young maji grave perploxions just at pres ent. There are philosophers who wave away any disoussion of the pecuniary side of marriage. Thoy declare that it is cowardly to count up' dollars and cents . when a bewitehing maiden is willing to be won. They scorn the eareful knight who loves, calculates • the expenses and rides away. They assert that what is enough for one is enough for two. They point out that our parents and grandparents married happily and brought up large families upon much less money than the young men of the present day spend upon them selves. There is some truth in all this, but it is only a half truth. Tbe bachelors who are now spending their vacations and falling in love at the watering places and summer re sorts, eannot derive mueli instruct ion or comfort from it. They could not, if they would, imitate the econo mies of their parents or live the lives of their graudparonts. Every man who loves a girl honestly desires to marry her, but he eannot argue the financial question upon general prin ciples. Gan lie afford it? lias lie or can he be reasonably sure of making enough .money to "support her comfortably and oreditably? If he, or she, be worthy, the question is easily answered; but the majority of young men have only modorutc incomes, and wo buvo no doubt that some of them do really prove their love by decliuiug to. pro pose. A young bachelor in New York can live handsomely upon a couple of thousand a year. The English phrase is to “five like a gentleman,” but many gentlemen in all countries expend much less. For $10 a week he can secure a large, elegantly- furnished room in a fashionable lo cality. For $3 a day ho can break fast and dine at his olub, and have a bottle of claret with his dinuor. For $200 a year he can keep up his stock of olothes, hats, shoes and other es sentials. As a rule his game at curds and billiards, his cigars and his hos pitalities either pay for themselves or are defrayad by the small wagers upon which he ventures. He has a margin of abont two hundred dollars for amusements and forabsoluto luxu ries. Being American, he expects to earn more money next year and the year after, or to hit upon some luoky speculation in Wall street whieh will enrich him. But, for the present, his income is about a couple of thpusand a year, and lie is perfectly at his easo with it until he comes to think of sharing it with a wifo. Then bow small it saoms! How poor he is! Why, one-half of it would bo eaten up by the rental of a flat aud the wages of a servant of all work. Bread und cheese and kisses are all very woil In novels, hut nobody could exist upon them us a daily diet, No tnau who truly loves can be satisfied to make the objeot of his affections yrorso off by marrying her. Ho cannot consent to have her turn wusher-woman for his sake. She may be ready to do bo; tho.most sensible women promise this to themselves while Oupid mocks them; bnt, if he were weak enough to agree, his wifo would ho longer bo thb dain ty girl be now adores. Life is hard enough at the best, without making it harder by demanding sacrifices of ease, of comfort, of a sooioty, of re finement upon tho alter of Hymen. Our girls possess common sense as well as'heaiity, and they should ren der the matrimonial problem less diffioult by proving that they, too, know tho value of monoy, and hoiv to make the most of a little, and how to eke out dollars by taot and taste and skill. If young meu wore eoq- vincod that in tnnrriago they scoured a true helpmeet, a partner for life, instead of a talking doll, to be pet ted and oostumed, or a pretty bird, to bo eaged and fed, thero would fcjo more matrimonial tilliuncos this summer than are likely in the pres ent stata of the money market. Flirtation is tho fashion, but tho old genuine love is too expensive to be experienced except by wealthy peo ple.—New York Star. A Few Fallacies. Perhaps the formulation of a few popular-fuliucies may not be without interest to our readers at this, time, even if thoy be indisposed to acoopt the statements without some quali fication. It is a fallacy to sup pose: ; That alcoholic drinks support physical strength during exoessively hot weather. That pie is roully indigestible, or, in general, that the quality of indi- gestibility cun bo logically ullinnod of uny articlo of iood absolutely and apart from tlie consideration of the digestive capacity of the particular stomach the powers of which are to bo tested. That disease, in any givon ease, consists simply in the group of sympt- ons complained of by the patient, or morbid signs dotootud by tho physi cians. That all morbid processes are necessarily destructive in their nuture, and are uover conservative. Disease in certain cases may be nature’s method of righting a wrong, or overcoming tho effects of some disturbing agent. A certain power of tho eliuan$al pioturo of a disease is therefore mado up of evtdenoes of reaction us well as of direct morbid action. That, in the production of cholera infantum, the elevation of the at. mospherie temperature plays tho most important part, or furnishes the principal indication for treat ment. That a person is well who feels well, and that sickness consists in feeling sick. That speoics can bo said to exist in modern medicine. That the aotuui number of years of it man’s life bears any diroot relation to tho conditions of the physical frame known as senile degeneration—Philadelphia Medical Times. A Young Lawyer. There is a suburban youngster who is evidently intended by nature fora lawyer, if nature can be said ever to have intended a man to be a lawyer. He has two prayers that he says at night—sometimes tho one and some times tlie other. One is the * dear old “Now I lay me,” and the other a prayer that this boy calls “The Good Shepherd.” The other night hii older sister, wiio was .putting him to bed, improved tho occusion by giving him a little lecture on the omnipresence and omniscience of the Creator. “Mamiod,” said ho after a wirle, “does God know just every thing wo are going to do before we do it?”. “Yes, Johnny.” “Does he know that I am going to say ‘Now llaymo?’” “Yes,Johnny.”" “Hal Well, I ain’t got to say it.-I’m going to say ‘Tho Good Shepherd?”— Boston Record, Tlie Country Press of Georgia. It should bo a source 6f pride to Georgia that in her weekly presp she has a defender that eannot be bottght with money or oorrnpted by guy power or influence, says the Athens Banner. As is a well-known*fact, in the present gubernatorial campaign, the flesh-pots ate all on the side of Gen. Gordon, while to support Muj. Bacon, tho only reward is an approv ing consoicnoo. And yet wo point to the faot with i pride that* by an overwhelming majority,;-,did <>i the woekly papers of our State turn their backs upon the glittering offerings ofithe Atlanta ring and are manfully supporting a ticket front whioh there is nothing to be gained; savo the oonsciousnoss of ,doing your 'doty. That tho most corrupting baits, were held out. by the, upholdoi s of Gen. Gordon’s oandidaoy, wo have only to refer to the statement of that honest tried and true man, Mr. Magi 11, editor of the Hartwell Sun. Ho was to fix his own price , for 5*000 pupers if he would only support the ring candidate, bitt with thut courage and .honor, that characterized. j him since a boy, ho spumed the i base proposal aiid tho name of A. O. Ba- con still floats at the masthead of his paper. And there is not a sheet in Georgia so small or insignifiount but what could have sold its support ra tho present oontest for gold—and wo refer with honest pride to the long list pf weeklies that spurn such a tempting offer und supported, the oandidate without .a dollar .$t his back. Wo do not charge the press supporting Gen. Gordon has been corrupted—far removed is any such suspicion from our thought—but we do assert that tliore is not a Bacon papor in Georgia but what its editor knew that it was to his pecun* iary interest to support Geii. Gordon. With such a truo and incorruptible defoudor as her weekly press, our people may rest assured that their rights, their interests and their liber ties will bo carefully guarded. A pure press is the greatest safeguard a oountry can have; and the news* papers of Georgia have ceituinly, in this cunipaign, given evident proof of their unswerving and incorrupti ble integrity. By this artiole we do* do uot intend to reflect oh our daily papers-*for they have also done their duty manfully—but this tribute is certainly due our rural brethren who liuue so nobly sustained the proud record of tho .Georgia press. The Student. ' There aro many things that a stu dent can bo prevailed on to do, and a great many more that no persnsion can get him not do. If there is any devilment on hand the average student can always be prevailed upon to take a hand. If there is any pray er meetings, rbvivuto, bf felifcibus sorVico to be engaged, in, thestudeut cannot bo brought near with a rope uround his neck. The last bad act done by tho student was on Thurs day night. The elite of tho Athouomm club are in tlib habit’ of giving their friends a boat ride up tho Oconee, and on such occasions a wagon louded with ice cream cakes, only 5c. a cako, watermelons and other digestible articles is sent up the river to await the arrival of the bout club, und a good time is gener ally had. The students are generally lmrrod from tho rido und the eating. On Thursday night they went out aud stole the tongueout of the wag on that carried the eatables, and liuim it up in a troe. The wngoo still rests on the bunks of tho Ocon ee, und the students are laughing over I lie joke thoy played ou the Atiiemeu’ii club.—Athens Banner. Some newspapor man who is ap parently posted says: “Dana of the New York Sun, goos to work ut clovon o’clock, dictates his editorials to a stenographer, quits at four o’ulook und gets $20,000 a year. The country editor goes to work at seven o’clock, has his editorials dic tated* to him by his subscribers, Cjuits at six o’clock aud gets m