Funding for the digitization of this title was provided by the R.J. Taylor, Jr. Foundation in partnership with the Atlanta History Center.
About Savannah daily evening recorder. (Savannah, GA.) 1878-18?? | View Entire Issue (March 9, 1879)
ID A. I L Y 'EVicisriisrG Savannah Recorder. VOL I.—No. 135. THE SAVANNAH RECORDER, B. M. ORME, Editor. PUBLISHED EVERY EVENING, •Saturday Excepted,) . jBk. t .G .. 33AY STnEET. if y J. STERN. Tiie Rkcokujsh is served to subscribers, in every part of the city by careful carriers. Communications must be accompanied by tiie name of the writer, not necessarily for publication, but as a guarantee of good faith. Remittance by Check or Post Office orders must be made payable to the order of the pub¬ lisher. We will not undertake to preserve or return rejected communications. Correspondence on Local and general mat¬ ters of interest solicited. On Advertisements running three, six, and twelve months a liberal reduction from regular rates will be made. All correspondence should be addressed, coKDEit, Savannah, Georgia. The Sunday Morning Recorder will the , mce o. the Saturday evening which win make six full issues for the week. «T We do not hold ourselves responsible the opinions expressed by Correspondents. MY MIDNIGHT PERIL. A Thrilling Sketch of Life. The night of the 17th of October— shall I ever forget its pitchy darkness, the roar of the autumnal wind through the lonely forests, and the incessant down pour of rain ? ‘This comes of short cuts,’ I mut¬ tered, petulantly, keeping to close mysely, the as I plod¬ ded along, to trunks ol the trees to avoid the ravine, through which I could hear the roar of the tur* buUnt stream of forty or fifty feet be¬ low. My blood ran cold as I thought what might be the possible consequence of a misstep or a move in the wrong direction. Why had I not been con¬ tented to keep Was in the right road ? Hold on ! that a light, or are my eyes stopped, playing holding me false? I on to the low, re¬ sinous boughs of a bank, hemlock that grew’ on the edge ol the for it actually seemed that the wind would seize me bodily and hurl me down the precipi¬ tous descent. It was a light—thank Providence— it was a light, and no ignus fatuus to lure me onto destruction and death. ‘Hallo-o o !’ My voice rang through the woods like a clarion. I plunged dense briars, on through and rocky the tangled vines, banks, until, gradually nearing, I could per¬ ceive a figure wrapped in an oil-cloth cloak, or cape, carrying a lantern. As the dim light fell upon his face, I al¬ most, recoiled. Would not solitude in the woods he preferable to the compan¬ ionship of this withered, wrinkled old man ? But it was too late to recede now. ‘What’s wanting?’ he snarled, with a peculiar motion of the lips, that seemed to leave his yellow teeth all bare. ‘I am lost in the woods; can you di rect me to R -station ?' ‘Yes; R- station is twelve miles from here.’ ‘Twelve miles!’ I stood aghast. ‘Yes.’ 'Can you tell me of any shelter I could obtain for the night?’ •No.’ 'Where areVou going?’ 'To Drew's, down by the Maple Swamp.’ ‘Is it a tavern ?’ •No/ ‘Would they take me for the night I could pay them well.’ His eyes gleamed; the yellow stumps stood revealed once more. ‘I guesk so; folks don’t stop there ’ •It is not far from here?’ ‘Not very; about half a mile.’ “Then make baste, and let us reach it. I am drenched to the skin.’ We plodded on, with my companion more than keeping edge pace of the me. Presently we left the ravine, what seemed like a trackless woods, and keeping straight on until the gleamed fitfully through the wet age. ruinous . old place, with the It w r as a windows all drawn to one side, as if the foundations had all settled, and the larsof a rude answered porch nearly rotted A woman my er’s knock. My companion a word or two to her, and she turned to me with smooth, voluble words welcome. She regretted the poverty of accommodations, but I was welcome them, such as they Isaac?’ were. demanded ‘Where is KU jde. ‘He is not come in yet.’ I sat down on a wooden bench the fire, and ate a few mouthfuls bread. ‘I should like to retire as soon as pos sible,’ I said, for my weariness was ex cessive. ‘Certainly.’ The woman started up with alacrity. ‘Where are you going to put him?' asked the guide. ‘Up chamber ’ ‘Put him in Isaac’s room.’ ‘No.’ ‘It’s the most comfortable.’ ‘I tell you no.’ But here I interrupted the whisper¬ ed colloquy. ‘I am not particular—I only make don’t haste.’ care where you lodge me, So I was conducted up a steep ladder that stood in the corner of the room, into an apartment, ceiled with sloped beams and ventilated by one small window, where a cot bedstead, crowded close against the board partition, and a pine table, with two or three chairs, formed the sole attempts at furniture. The woman set the light—an old oil lamp—on the table. ‘Anything more I can give, sir?’ ‘Nothing, thank you.’ ‘At 4 o’clock in the morning, if you please, I must walk over to R sta tiou in time for the 7 o’clock express.’ ‘I’ll be sure to call you, sir.’ She withdrew, leaving me alone in the gloomy little apartment. I sat down with no very agreeable sensa¬ tion. ‘I will sit down and write to Alice,’ I thought; ‘that will soothe my nerves and quiet me, perhaps.’ I descended the ladder; the fire still glowed readily on the hearth beneath; my companion and the woman sat be¬ side it, talking in a low tone, and a third person sat at the table eating, a short, stout, villainous looking man, in a red flannel shirt and muddy trousers. I asked for writing materials, and returned to my room to write to my wife. ‘My DearAlice—’ I paused and laid down my pen as I concluded the words, half smiling to think what she would say could she know of my strange quarters. Not till both sheets were covered did I lay aside my pen and prepare for slumber. As I folded my paper I hap¬ pened to glance toward the couch. Was it the gleam of a human eye observing me through the board parti¬ tion, or was it my own fancy ? There was a crack there, but only blank darkness beyond, yet I could have sworn that something had sparkled balefully at me. I took out my watch—It was 1 o’clock. It was scarcely worth while for me to undress for three hours’ sleep. I would lie down in my clothes and snatch what slumber I could. So, placing my barraeading valice at the head of my bed, and the lockless door with two chairs, I extinguished the light and lay down. At first I was very wakeful, but gradually a soft drowsiness seemed to steal over me like a misty mantle, until all of a sudden, some startling electric thrill coursed through my veins and I sat up excited and trembling. A luminous softness seemed to glow through the room—no light of the —and moon or by stars the was little ever window so penetrating I saw Alice, my wife, dressed in floating gar¬ ments of white, with her long, golden hair knotted back by a blue ribbon. Apparantly she was coming to me with outstretched hands, and eyes full of wild anxious tenderness. I sprang to my feet and rushed to wards her; but, as I reached the win dow, the fair apparition seemed to vanish into the stormv darkness, and I was left alone. At the self same in- 8tant. the sharp report of a pistol sounded—1 could Bee tbe pillow? jagged stream of fire above the straight through since, the same head spot where, ten min utes my had lain. With an instantaneous realization of my danger, I swung myself over the edge of the window, jumping some eight or ten feet into tangled bushes below, and as I crouched there, recov ering my breath, I heard the tramp of footsteps into my room. ‘Isfche dead?’ cried a voice up the ladder—the smooth, deceitful voice of the woman with the half-closed eyes. ‘Of course he is,’ growled a voice back; ‘that charge would have killed ten men. Alight there, quick, and tell Tom to be ready.’ A cold, agonizing shudder ran through me. What a den of midnight murderers had I fallen into ! And how fearfully narrow had been my escape! With the speed that only mortal ter ror wood, can give, illuminated I rushed "through the now starlight. by a faint glim-, mer of I knew not what im- 1 pulse guided my footsteps. I never shall know bow many times I crossed j own track, or how close I stood to tbe brink of the deadly ravine; but a j merciful providence encompassed me ! with a guiding aud protecting care, for I when the morning dawned, with faint, red bars of orient -light against the stormy eastern sky, I was close to tbe high road, some seven miles from R—. Once at the town, I told my story to the police, and a detachment was sent with me to the spot. I After much searching and many i false alarms, we succeeded in finding I the ruinous old house, but it was empty SAVANNAH SUNDAY, MARCH 9, 1879. —our birds had flown ; nor did I re¬ cover my valise and watch and chain, which latter I had left under my pil¬ low. ‘It’s Drew’s gang,’ said the leader of the police, ‘and they’ve troubled us these two years. I don’t think, though, they’ll come back here just at present.’ Nor did they. But the strangest part of 'my story is yet to come. Some three weeks sub¬ sequently I received a letter from my sister, who was with Alice in her English home—a letter whose intelli¬ gence filled me with surprise, ‘I must ted you something very strange,’ wrote my sister, ‘that happen¬ ed on the night of the 17th of October. Alice had not been well for some time; in fact, she had been confined to her bed for nearly a week, and I sitting besides her reading. It was late; the clock had just struck 1, when all at once she seemed to faint away, grow¬ ing hastened white and rigid as a corpse. I to call assistance, but all our efforts to restore animation were in vain. I was just about sending for the doctor, when her senses returned as suddenly as they had left her, and she sat up in bed, pushing up her hair and looking wildly around her. ‘Alice,’ I exclaimed, ‘how yon have terrified us all ! Are you ill ?’ ‘Notill,’ she answered, ‘but I feel so strange. Grade, I have been with my husband !’ ‘And all of our reasoning failed to convince her of the impossibility of her assertions. She persists to this mo* ment that she saw you and was with you on the morning of the 18th of October. Where and how she cannot tell, but we think it must have been in a droam. She is better now, and I wish you could see how fast she is im¬ proving.’ This is my plain, unvarnished tale. I do not pretend to explain or account for its mysteries. I simply relate facts. Let psychologists unravel the labyr'n thical skein. I am not superstitious, neither do I belive in ghosts, wraith, or apparitions, but this thing I do know —that, although my wife was in En¬ gland in body on the morning of the 18th of October, her spirit surely stood before me in New York in the moment of It the deadly be peril that menaced me. may that to the subtle instinct and strength of a wife’s holy love all things are possible but Alice surely saved my life. A Custer City Cocktail. that Took Hold Quick and Held on Long. [From tiie Chicago Tribune.] Tact and politeness obviate many difficulties. A returned miner from the Black Hills arrived in town yester¬ day, and went .to a saloon and asked for some of the best whisky in the house, and when it was served to him spat it out with unutterable loathing, and said : "I called for whisky, young man; mebbe you didn’t hear me?” The barkeeper said that he had heard him, and that he had given him whisky. The gentleman from Deadwood pro¬ ceeded with more deadly calmness, though his hand instinctively sought his hip-pocket. “I called for the best whisky in the house, young man; mebbe you did not catch the full signifi- * canoe of my language ” Now, many another barkeeper, un der similar circumstances, would have resented the insinuation as to his saying, liquor by pouring doS’t it know into the good sink, and "You whisky when you see it," or words to that effect, or have offered the man §500 if he could find as good whisky as that anywhere on the footstool, or in some other man ner not herein specified have led the man from tbe Black Hills to draw his revolver or hurl a chair through the mirror. But this barkeeper was a mas of quite another sort, so he said, kind ly, “I beg your pardon, Captain; so many people whisky come round that don’t know what is; but I might have seen with half an eye that you knew the difference.’ So he urbanely but hurriedly mixed in a bottle some alcohol, and spirits kept of from turpentine cleaning and the Jamaica: mirror, ginger, and Perry Davis’ painkiller, and when the stranger said “Yes” in reply to bis question whether he liked some bitters in it, shook half a gill of pepper-sauce into a tumbler and push ed tbe bottle toward him. The stranger heaped a tumblerful and passed his it breath off, and said when he had recovered to the bar keeper: “Young man, that’s the whis ky. I haven’t tasted anything like that since I left Custer City two weeks ago to-day. That’s real genuine liquor; I kinder a cross between the circular saw and and a holds wildcat. on That long. takes Just hold you quick to' j and saloon go Deadwood open a with that. whisky, and you might charge an | ounce a glass tor it and people wouldn’t kick. So long; take this in remem brance of me,’ and, barkeeper, pressing an §800 nugget upon the he was gone. Christian Consolation. “Shall We Know Each Other in Heaven T” —Rev. T. De Witt Talmage in St. Louis. [From the New York Herald.] The Rev. T. De Witt Talmage, D. D.,of the Brooklyn Tabernacle,preached in St. Louis last Sunday in the Central Presbyterian Church, of which Dr. Bank is pastor, corner of Lucas and Garrison avenues. The edifice was crowded to its utmost capacity. Dr. the Talmage read a lesson, descriptive of wall of heaven, from the Book of Revelation. He preached on the ques¬ tion “Shall we know each other in heaven ?" The text was taken from II. Samuel, xii., 23—“I shall go to him.’’ There is a very sick child, said Dr. Talmage, in the abode of David the dark King. Disease, which stalks up the lane of the poor and puts its smothering hand on the lip and nostril of the man and master; also knocks it the palace blows door and, bending over l.e pillow, into the face of a yo . ■ i prince the frosts of pain and dea.Ii. Tears are wine to the King of Terrors. Seven days have passed. There are in that great house two eyelids gently closed, two little hands folded, two lit¬ tle feet silent, one heart still. The come to bear the tidings to the king. He wipes away the tears from his eyes and clears choking grief from his throat and exclaims, “I shall to him.” Was David right or wrong? If we part on earth will we meet again the next world ? Is this doctrine of recognition of friends in heaven guess, a myth, a whim, or is it a foundation upon which to build glorious hope? 'positive certainty.” The object of this sermon is to take theory out of the region of surmise speculation into the region ol posi¬ bring certainty. I believe that I can an accumulation of argument to upon this matter which will prove doctrine of future recognition as as that there is any heaven at and that the kiss of re-union at the gate will be as certain as the kiss at the door of this sepulchre. doctrine is not so often positively in the Word of God as implied, you know, my friends, that this is, all, the strongest mode of affirma 1 - What consolation would it be to to his child if he would not know We read in the first book of the Bible, died and was gathered to his Jacob died and was gathered to people, Moses died and was gather¬ to his people. What people. Why, their friends, their comrades, their old It cannot mean anything else. So in the very beginning of tbe Bible four times that is taken for grant¬ ed. The whole New Testament is an arbor over which this doctrine creeps iike a luxuriant vine, full of the purple of consolation. The Bible says we are to be higher than the angels, and il they have the power of recogni¬ tion, shall not we have as good eyesight and as good capacity? Why, Paul talk¬ about meeting his congregation in and recognizing them. other arguments. rnl The rejection . .- of this theory implies entire obliteration, of our memory, p an 1 e possi e tha we shall foiget tbos f Wltb whose walk « !?. ok i w e iave been so , mng amiliar. l]1 d e atb c ? me and a sbar P keen , , this , acuity of mem ory? .>%• You know a **>y very well that our J°J ! n “X anattuttnc* a aug “ ent ed b X the companionship of our j , f s cannot see lctur with uenc - a P e ess ey6S ’ °5tt a SOn g Wlfch eSa u j iau , ears e want some one * beside us with whom to exchange glances s > m P a ues, and suppose the joy °J Ia c ^ f 1 ave at " \ 18 e to aie be , augumented bav f our hreside by the with . us. T eaven is . not a be iv, airing is an expansion. neie see you 'T 1 w0 e ,7 es ’ Ul ? er ® ® so u ,, , ? a Y ea mi 1 on e es __ *. 6 - . r* immor a 1 Y gazing on immor * a it}, . ranb0 ? ae b P in 113 c0 0< J U ^- 1 ran ' & o P ln ’ Vlct ? r vl ctor - '' hen T E™ne, r the Scotch c minister, . . h ' 8 * tu fc h ! s wlfe came . Sai 1 P 1 ’ * eai ’, °y° u m - Enow each , other ; 12!i r ' e '\ e , 6 Ur ?L- i° "f- , 1Q J V f ar h j 0 r ! Ua w f e ’ * 1 ’ " , j' b<;le ' 1 au “ er ’' ) ain a ^. ce P 13 oc j" ine ^ f f u ,' * ® ? tuie ieco g Q] U on because tbe worlds expectancy affirms it. In aL lands and a ^, e ? * s t ^ e0 ^7 ls leceued, and under ai , JeVTn a’ve rv^on/th^theo’ J . ’ 7 , ’ / • * ■ • ’ "A itY V . V ‘• ■ n] d h i . • ,• , “ ar \ fc T ‘ umt ^ , nt ‘ i3 ‘“ irresistible^ a ‘ s / crossing _ r _ the r.\er. One more reason why I am disposed to accept this doctrine of future recog cition is, that so many in their last hour on earth have confirmed this theory. I speak not of persons who delirious in their last ments and knew not wbat they about, but of persons who died and who were not naturally stitious. Often the glories of heaven have struck the dying pillow and departing heard those man has said that he saw and who had gone away him. How often is it that in their children ing moments parents see their departed and children see their departed parents. ON EARTH AND IN HEAVEN. Oh, how different it is on earth from the way it is in heaven. When Christian dies, we say, “Close his In heaven they say, “Give him a pa¬ lace.” On earth we say, “Let him down into the ground.” In heaven they “Hoist him on a throne.” On earth is “Farewell, farewell 1” In heaven is “Welcome, welco.me.” The “Clam-Shell” Preacher. H. Clay Trumbull, editor of the Sunday School Times , gives the follow¬ ing the pleasant Hartford reminiscence late Dr. Beadle : There was a mission-school in Hart¬ ford, in a garret room of a rickety build* in ing, in the earlier days of such schools this country. It was what the English would call a girls “ragged-school,” lowest made up of boys and cf the very class in the community, out of homes of squalor and of vice along the river banks in one of the poorer quar¬ ters of that city. It was not an easy matter to catch and hold the attention of that motely assemblage. There was rarely a visitor who was equrl to the emergency. But Dr. Beadle won the eyes and ears of all who were there when he came to that school. Standing before front the of school the superintendent’s closed for the desk, day, he up a common fresh-water clam¬ and called out: “Boys, what is ?’’ “A clam-shell,” cried a hundred “Yea, it's a clam-shell—a rough, clam-shell; just such a shell as could pick up auy day by the bank of the river, or back iu the coun by a brook in the woods.” Then, turning the shell quickly in his hand, he showed the other valve, beau¬ tifully polished, its iridescent colors re¬ the light attractively. "And what is that, boys?” he said. “That’s a clam-shell, too,” was the answer. “Yes; but see how much prettier this side is. What makes the dif¬ ference ?” “It’s been rubbed down,” said one. “It’s been smoothed off,” said another. “It’s been polished up,” said a third. “Yes, that’s it. And boys do you know that’s just what we are trying to do with you in this Sunday school ? We’ve brought some of you in here as rough as the other side of the clam¬ shell; and now we are trying to rub you down, to smooth you off, to polish you up, so that you’ll shine like this side of the shell. This polishing busi¬ ness is hard to work, boys, and it takes time ; but it pays.” Then he pressed home the need of soul-polishing in words that which were never Beadle forgotten thenceforward in room. known Dr. by was those boys as “the clam-shell man ;” and they always gave him a hearty welcome in their school-room, or as they met him from time to time in the Many of them were more willing to be rubbed down and smooth¬ ed off in consequence of his suggestive words of them and later; and some of came finally to have a character which reflected beautifully the rays of Sun of Righteousness. A Little Girl’s Reproof.— An officer, on returning home from life, went to visit a relative, and some who imitate their associates, indulged in profane language. A little girl walked out with him to his horse, and as he was talking to her in glee, she gently said : “I don’t like to hear my cousin He replied : I know my dear, it wrong.” mild voice Bhe rejoined In the same : “Well, then, if you know it is wrong, why do you do it ?” The Captain confessed to a friend, relating the story, that he never felt a reproof so much as the one given by that litile girl. He had a good reason to feel it, for he deserved it. 8Wered ^ young widow im nial in Vicksburg advertisement, an a matr 0 aQ j & j Qng c0rreS p 0n( i ence ensued, re¬ sultin S in a visit b y tbe man - He was good looking, had pleasant manners, and represented York that he was a pros perous New merchant. The widow married him, and two weeks of honeymoon passed pleasantly. Then t ^ e husband disappeared, and has never returned to the bride. His motive in this adventure seems to have been pure love of deviltry, for he made no attempt to get any of the woman’s money, and was extremely liberal in hid PRICE THREE CENTS. 'gtrti. — OST—A THUNK, containing Artist’s ' Tools. Paints and Pictures, The finder wnr be suitably EDWIN rewarded. CHURCHILL, Address. Artist. Prof. J. Business Cards* VAL. BASLER’S WINES, LIQUORS, SEGARS nn<l TOBACCO The best Lager Beer in tiie city. The well known TEN PIN ALLEY reopened. Lunck every Square day House, from 11 to 1 o’clock. At the Market 174 BRYAN ST. Savannah, Ga. F. BINGEL, WINES, LIQUORS AND SEGARS. Milwaukee and Cincinnati Lager Beer on draught. Free Lunch, Fresh Oysters always on hand. 21 Jefferson st., corner Con ogress street lane._ mchlO-ly JAMES RAY, —Manufacturer and Bottler— Mineral Waters, Soda, Porter and Ale, 15 Houston St., Savannah, Ga. feb23-3m Dr. A. H. BEST, DE1TTI ST Cor. Congress and Whitaker streets. SAVANNAH, GA. T EETH extracted without pain, All work I respectfully guaranteed. beg to refer to any of my patrons. octl-brao C. A. CORTJ.NO, Bair Cutting, Hair Dressing 1 , Curling and SHAVING SALOON. HOT AND COLD BATHS. I(i6'4 Bryan street, opposite the Market, un¬ der Planters’ Hotel. Spanish- Italian, Qcr man, and Englisli spokon. seltMT RESERVOIR MILLS Congress and Jefferson streets. CHOICE GRITS AND MEAL, Grain, Hay, Feed, Flour, Provisions, At LOWEST market figures. R. L. MERCER. feb!2-lm GEORGE FEY, WINES, LIQUORS, SEGARS, TOBACCO, Ac . The celebrated Joseph Schlit/.’ MILWAU¬ KEE LAGER BEER, a speciality. No. 22 Whitaker street, Lyons’ Block, Savannah, Ga. FREE LUNCH every day from 11 to 1. r-ziil-Jv HAIR store: JOS. E. LOISEAU & CO., 118 BROUGHTON ST., Bet. Bull & Drayton K EEP on hand a large assortment of Hair Hair Switches, combings Curls, Puffs, and Fancy Goods worked in the latest stylo. Fancy Costumes. Wigs and Beards for Rent JOS. H. BAKER, BUTOHEB, STALL No. . 60 . Savannah Market. Dealer iu Ueef, Muttou, Pork nd All other Meats iu their Seasons. Particular attention paid to supplying Ship and Bourding Houses. aug!2 Carriages* A. K. WILSON’S CARRIAGE MANUFACTORY, Corner Hay and West Broad sts. CARRIAGE REPOSITORY . Cor. Bay and Montgomery streets. SAVANNAH, GEORGIA The largest establishment in the city. I keep a full line of Carriages, Rockaways, and Buggies, Falling Spring and Farm Wagons. Canopy line of Carriage Top Baby Curilages, also a full and Wagon Material. I have chanics. engaged in my factory tiie most skillful me¬ pairing, will Any orders for new work, and re¬ he executed to give satisfaction aud at short notice. mayI2-ly Leather and Findings* COMMISSION MERCHANTS And Dealers in HIDES, LEATHER AND FINDINGS, 166 BAY STREET, SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. H KIHEST Wool. Bheep Market Skins, Price Furs, paid Deer for Hides, Skins, Beeswax and Tallow. * A full supply of the best French and Ameri can Liberal Iannages constantly kept on hand. advances made on consignments. No business transacted on Saturday. : mso :rrn*D I L R book for orders for Passover Bread is now open. Our Machinery being new and of the best kind, we will be able to turnisb a first-class article. Our price will compare favorably with Northern and Western manu¬ facturers. No charge for drayage. Please send your orders to Gucmiam, mm & co. Cor. Bay and Barnard sts*.> IebI2-5w SAVANNAS, QA
