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Jlaint iHaris ißcatott K't PUBLISHED BV YATES A KING, EVERY THURSDAY M6rM®AT ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM IN ADVANCE. • Si* VOL. XLI. LEONARDTOWN, MD., THURSDAY MORNING MRUAKY 11. 1886. * M ; 273 KNTABLIHI1I11) JOMAII H. D MIOOT. 41 .V Union Street. ALEXANDRIA. VA DEALER IN Lumber. Shingles. lAih* Doors. Sash, Blinds. Frames, (silcinetl Platter Lime. Hair. \nK Ac. Se.vo„ed LuiiiU r ami flooring kept under cover. Sept 11, 18bi—v. I MOST n**|M*elfiil|y iiifurtii the public that 1 have just >uq.|.-ti-l tu-w hearse and can furnish Coffins and Caskets of the lat.-st >tvli-s. (Jl-is.- white (’• >FFINS ami t'ASKK'fs li>r children ti sjK-ciultv. AM. WHKELWIUUHTINtJ and BLAt’K SMI TH I Nil in all thrir Very thankful for all past favors, I solicit a con tinuance of tin- satin*. I.IHUKII m-.vv Chaptico, St. Man ’s county, Md. Oct 2, 184 tf fl. W. CARROU. J W IIKADI.EV CARROLL & BRADLEY. GENERAL Commission Merchants FOR THE SALE OF Grain ami ail kind* of Country Produce, No. 16 Camden Street. BALTIMORE. REFERENCES BV fKKMISSIoX Judgy C. F. UoldslH.ivugh, Cambridge, Mil; Hon. D. M. Henrv. Cambridge, Md. _ T J. Dail A Co . Baltimore, Md. Hurst, Purnell A Co., Baltimore, Md. R. H. Butler. Trapp,-. Md. Dr. H. W. Houston. E. N. Market, Md. Nat. Farmers & Planters Bank, Baltimore. Md Oct 18, 1888—yt SEW boons! WAX STORE ! THE firm formerly known as Mrs. Blaia ft Janea has mutually dissolved partnership and will now be recognized as Mrs L. A. JONES &’CO. Thanking cur patron* for past favors, we •elicit a continuance of the same. We as sure the public that our best efforts shall be made to keep a handsome and fashionable assortment of all £ (S T MILLNEiIY. a s <3 a — <& , DRESS GOODS-! ■■■. I I- lll .1 S! Having Just returned from Ealttmore with a well assorted stock, we are prepared to ac commodate the moat fastidious customer. Call and examine cor stock. Mr*- L- A. JONES & CO. May 3. 1334—u> R.A. GOLDEN, GROCER AND CosuDission Merchant, CORNER 10th and F. NOS. Ml and fel 3. W. OLD STAND WAREHOUSE Ml LOUISIANA AVENUE, WASHINGTON. D. C. Oct 99, tfo B 0 ARMING • mmmm Mu E. R Bttx. I* now prepared to ac commodate permanent and transient board ers at VHTB NALL. LIOMAIDTOWI. at the following rates; Breakfast and sapper, 53 cents each. kyVed v l/>ngja4 A Mb 11. O. DUDLEY. J. W. CARPENTER. W. J. EDELE.V. DUDLEY & CARPENTER, GENERAL Commission Merchants, No. 57 i ight Street, BALTIMORE- Sell Tobmrro. Grain Jr € oun try Prodnre, rnrmrnem- : gjrw*. ■ ' 1 * Particular attention given to the carefu sampling of Tobacco, Jan s,B2A—t BALTIMORE WEEKLY SUN. The brightest and Best of Family N< >pa jxrs. one Dollar a Year. The Baltimore Weekly ?rs has long Wen n-epirnized as the Mi al Family Nt-w.-pajs-r. 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The Baltimore Sr* AluaXac. a valuable publication ufnlnetv-alx pagea, is published as a Supplement ef’the Sr* about the first ct etch year. It is not for sale, nor is it distributed except to subecrlbers of “The ! srx," Dally and Weekly, for whoee benefit It is published. Everv subscriber to “The Sun. Daily or Weakly, whoee name is on our books the first of the year, will receive ! a copy of the Srx Almanac foie of charge. Postal Order*. Check*. Drafts, Ac , arc to be mad* payable, and all Newt and lasi* neat Communications addressed, to A. % ABELL A CO . Publishers, SUN IRON BntDINO Baltimore, md. Kefttl's Dining Rooms Mo. I IcdaUaa'a alley, Near Baltimore Bt, Serves Regular Dinners at 85 cents. Make* a specialty of the finest steamed Ore tkr* in -the city Geat>men stopping at Reid's can find'meals at all hoar*. The BAR M stocked with the beet wine* ana ci gar* that the makes can afford. Juijr Id. Ss—6mt BOOTS AXD SffCKS. " Ttarnln for lb* End. 1 Br-athe &>ft and low, O whispering wind. Above the tangled greases deep, . Where those who loved me long ago Forgot the world and fell asleep, j No towering shaft, or sculptured urn. I Or mausolem's empty pride. Tells to the curious passer-by , Their virtues, or the time they died. I count the old, familiar names, OVrrrown with moss and lichen grey, i Where tangle briar and creeping vine Across the crumbling tablets stray. The summer skv is softly blue. The birds still sing the sweet old strain But something from the summer time Is gone, that will not come again. So many voices have Ixen hushed, nbdjt- d fist a*. So manx' hands I used to t> >uch Are folded over hearts of clay. The noisy world recedes from me, I cease to hear its praises or Maine; The mossy marbles echo back No hollow sound of empty fame. I only know that calm and still They sleep beyond life’s woe and wail. Beyond the fleet of sailing clouds. Beyond the shadow of the vale. 1 only feel that, tired and worn, I halt upon the highway bare. And gaze with yearning eyes Wyond On fields that shine supremely fair. A Dimpled Baby’s Hand. Everybody was afraid of Ibe old Governor because he was so cross and surly. And one morning he was crcsser and surlier than ever, because he Lad been troubled for several days with a matter which he had already decided, but which many people wished to have reversed. Am in found guilty of a crime, had been imprisoned, and there were those who, convinced of his penitence and knowing that his fami ly needed his support, sought his par don To til! these solicitations the old Governor replied “noand having made up hi* mind, the old Governor had no patience with those who per sisted in their intercessions. So the old Governor was in high dudgeon one morning, and when he came to his office he said to the secretary ; “Admit no one to see me ; lam weary of these constant and senseless importunities.’’ Now the secretary had a discreet icgaril for ibe old Oovernor s reelings, and it was seldom that his presence of mind so far deserted him as to ad mit of his suffering the old Governor's wishes to be disregarded. He bolted the door and sat himself down at his mode.-t desk and simulated intense enthusiasm in his work. His simula tions were more intense than usual, lor never before had the secretary seen the old Governor in such a harsh mood. “Has the mail come—where are the papers and the letters?’ demanded the old Governor, in a giulf voice. Here they are, sir, said the secre tary, as he put the bundle on the old Governor's table. “These are ad dressed to you privately; the bu#i ness letters are on my desk. Would you like to see them now?” “No. not now, ’ growled the old Governor; “I will read the papers and my private correspondence first." i But the old Governor found cause for uneasiness in this employment. The pipers discussed the affair of the imprisoned man, and these private letters came from certain of the old Governor's friends, who, etrangely enough, exhibited an interest in the self same prisoner’s affairs. The old Governor whs highly disgusted. “They should mind their own busi* ness,” muttered the old Governor. “The papers are very officious and these other people are simply imperii-1 nent. My mind in made up—‘nothing shall change me.” Then the old Governor turned tc his private secretary and bade him i bring the business letters, and pree ently the private secretary could hear the old Governor growling and fum*' bing ever the pile of correspondence.' He knew why the old Governor was so excited ; many of the letters were petitions from the people touching the affair of the imprisoned man. Oh. how they angered the old Governor! "Humph! said the old Governor, at laat, “I'm glad I'm dene with them. There are no more, I suppose." hen the secretary made no reply the old Governor was surpiised. Be wheeled in hie chair and searching'.y regarded the secretary over his epec lac.ee. He saw that the secretary was strangely embtftrassed. “You have not shown me all," said the old Governor, sternly. “What is it you have kept back?" Than the secretary said : “I had not thought to show it to you. It ia nothing but a little child's letter—l thought I should not bother you with it” The old Governor was interested A third's foirsr fie kte-ArWi AM it be about ? Such a never happened tc him befomF “A child's letter; ! Agfe *** it," said the old Governor 1 Mjf although hie voice was harsh, MaMjgbat of a tender light came int< Ips eyaa “It is nothing but aMMawl," ex claimed the secretary< 4 Hp it comes from the little girl—Monckton,M larger, you know. Of course therd nothing to it— a mere scrawl; ftrlßb child ia only 4 year* old. But fIHHM|WAa who send* it says the M1 brought it tbe Governor, and then, perhaps the Governor would s>d her papa home." The old Governsr took the letter, and scanned it curiously. What a wonderful letter it waa, and who but a child could hare written it? Such strange hieroglyphic* and *uch crook ed lines—oh! i: wa* a wonderful let ter, as you cau imagine. Hut the old Governor eaw something more than the strange hieroglyphic* and crooked lines and rude penciling*. He could eee it between the lines of the little child's letter a sweetness ami a pathos be had never eeen before, and tbe crumpled sheet he found a love like the love his heart had vainly yearned for, oh! ao many years. lie saw. or seemed to see, a little head bending over the crumpled page, a dimple Land toiling at its rude labor of love, and an earnest little face smiling at tbe thought that thia labor Would not be in vain. And how wearied the little hand grew and how sleepy the little head became, but loyal heart throbbed on and on with patient joy, and neither hand nor head rested (ill the task was done. Sweet innocence of childhood ! Who would molest thee—who bring thee one shadow of sorrow? Who would not rathei brave all dangers, endure all fatigue*, and bear all burdens to shield thee from worldly ill* thou So thought the old Governor as he looked upon the crumpled page and saw and heard the pleading of the child'* letter; for yon mu*t know that from the crumpled page there stole a thousand gentle voice* that murmured in hi* ear* so sweetlv that hi* heart seemed full of tear*. And the old Governor thought of hi* own little one—God rest her innocent soul. And it seemed to him a* if he could hear her dear baby voice joining with the other’* in trustful pleading. The secretary waa amazed when the old Governor said to him : “Give me a blank." But what most amazed the secretary was the tremulous ten derness in the Governor’s voice and the mistiness behind the old Gover nor a spectacle* as he folded the crumpled psge reverently and put it carefully in the breast pocket of hi* great-coat. “Humph,' thought tbe secretary, “old Governor ha* a kinder heart than any of u* suspected." When the prisoner was pardoned and came from hi* cell, people grasped him by the hand and said: “Our elo quence and perseverance *aved you. The old Governor could not withstand the pressure we brought to bear on him r" Rut the secretsrv knew, and the old Governor, too—God bless him for hia human heart I They knew that it wa* the sacred influence of a little child's letter that had dona it all— that a dimpled baby had opened those prison doors —Chicago News. Tex Smith— John Smith—p’ain John Smith—is not very high eound- Lng; it does not suggest aristocracy; it is not the name of any hero in dte away novels; and yet it is good, strong and honest Transferred to other lan* guages it seems to climb the ladder of respectability. Thus in Latin it is Johannes Smith us; the Italian smooths it off into Giovanni Smith; the Span iards render it Juan Smitbus; the Dutchman adopts it as Hans Schmidt; the French flatten it out into Jean Smeet; and the Russian eneeses and barks Jonloff Smittowehi. When John Sa.tL gets into the tea trad* in Can ton he become* Jovaa Bhimmit; if be clambers about Mount Bocla, the le* ianders say bo ia Jaha* Smithson; if he trade* among the Tuacarorae bo becomes Ton Qa Smiltla; in Boland be is known a* Ivan Schmittiweiski; should be wander among the Welsh mountains, they talk of Jihon Schmidd; when he goes to Mexiao ha is booked a* Jontli F'Smitti; if ofclamie torn he linger* among Greek rnina, be turns to Ton Smiktoc; and in Turkey ha ie utterly disguised a* Yea leaf. aok*Small boy (pointing to a pie ture of the herald angels) —la them angels, os* Mother—Tan, ay child. Small bojr-wHuw do they g.t thair a ((Itkifti die dflw Unfit wu%f|f The Battles of the Dead.— *ft is midnight in the brick farmhouse at Chancellonville—the new building on tbe site of the one partially des troyed when Hooker marched hi* troops into the wilderness to get in the rear of Lee at Fredericksburg. In the yard are the rotting wheel* of gun carriage*; in the south wall are a dozen cannon-ball* firmly imbedded; half a mile below i* the atone mark ing tbe spot where Stonewall Jackson received his mortal wound; here is mm ft* icb ■>#>■*■ Mnia foe. “Are you asleep?" “No." The last strobe of twelve had scarcely died away when the farmer opened my bedroom door to ask the question. “Then mavbe you’d like to see it?" “What?" “The battle of Chaneellorsville. The Federal troops are now in sight on the Ely'* Ford road." I hastily dressed and passed out into the yard with him. I noticed that be had on a Confederate uniform, dusty and worn. I looked at my own garments; they were blue. He point ed bis f.nger down the road, and I saw through the mUt of tbe summer night a great army approaching. There was cavalry, infantry and ar tillery—there were flags and banners and ambulances. In two minutes more the head of the column had reached the Chaneellorsville plank road. Some turned to the right, some to the left, some plunged into the gloomv pine thickets bevond. “But I hear no noise—not the foot step of a horse nor the clank of a saber," I protested.. “Huh! 'Ti® a battle of the dead! The spirits of the thousands who fell here have come to fight the battle once again!" I looked at him more closelv and I the light of battle in his eves. His form grew erect, his feet seemed imnatient and he scented the air as if half eager to join in the frav. Now the highwavs and bvwavs— the cleared fields—the open woods— the lonely thickets were full of blue uniforms. Couriers and sides gallop ed here and there—staff officers turned heads of columns to the right or left. It was strange to witness those thou sands moving with such order and yet giving out no sound. “Look'—see?" whispered my com panion as he pointed down the planlr road. Thete was a cloud of smoke rolling up out of the pine woods and blotch ing the starlit skv like a stain of blood, It spread and grew until half the stars of heaven were bidden. Mean while, tbe face of every man in blue was turned that way. We aw bat tery after battery, regiment after reg iment, brigade after brigade, move down tothesceneof conflict. Tongues of flame flashed through the smoke cloud and lighted up thicket and | field, but there was ao sound. The | Stillness of night was almost painful. ' “Here are the result-!" whispered the Confederate, and I looked to the i right and left to behold tbe dead and the wounded. I could see them in J the fields, under the pinee, on the highway. Some faces show fear and horror— others eapre—d vindiotive- { new. There were horses lying dead, | others hobbling about and seeming to appeal for mercy. “It is horrible!" I whispered. “Aye! but it ie over." I looked again and the vision had faded. The highways were barren of life—-the fields and forests at peace. The smoke-cloud had disappeared, and the dead and wounded had been epirited away. “And so the dead of the armies fight their battles o'er*" I asked. “A* you have teen." ha solemnly re plied. “Until tbe bate and rancor of men ia no moranntil all sen are at pease—the spirits of these who fell in battle Cannot rest. They must plan Campaigns and fight their battles as of eld. The vision you bav* seen bare is repeated at Antietam, Gettys burg. Vicksburg, Franklin— on a hun dred battlefields of America. Let us go in."—M. QcaX>. MT “Mamma," said young Bobby, with a thoughtful air, “what did yoo mean by telling papa that I had out grown my aiipperar' “I meant that you ara getting too hi.* for them. Bobby." “Wall, then." went aa Bobby, “how long wlii ahe before I eatgrew your Toombs at Bull Rus.— General T'uibe, our Georgia fire-eater, was g'.ven to criticising pretty severely all the officer* of the regular army who had joined their fortune* with those of the Confederacy. He wa*< hot blooded and impatient and chaffed at the delays of the commanders in their preparation* for battle. Hi* general idea was that the troop* went out to fight, and he thought they should be allowed to go at it at once. An incident that occurred in the Manaaaa. campaign will aerve to illustrate hi* charactenutirToT headedneaa. As ,we were preparing to cross the Rapidan, Stuart aeot me word that he had cut off a large cav alry force and had all the ford* guard ed except one. He asked that I de tail a force to guard that point of es cape. The work wa* assigned to the command under Gen. Toombs, who was absent at the time. He had me* a kindred spirit in the person of a wealthy Virginian named Morton, whom he bad known in Con gress, and wa* out dining with him. They were both good liver* and loved to have their friend* with them. lu going back to his command General Toomb* came upon bis troops on the road and inquired what they were do ing there. The explanation was made. Toombs bad had a good dinner and i fell independent. He said he would give the general to understand that he must consult him before sending I bis troops out to guard a ford, and thereupon ordered them back to camp. As the mystified troops marched sol emnly hack the matter was reported to me. and I ordered Toombs under arrest. I allowed him to ride with I his command as we marched against i Pope and expected that he would j make some explanation of hia con [ duct. j He did not do so, and the next I heard of him he was stopping along j the route making etnmp speeches to j the troops and referring in anything hut complimentary terras to the com mander of his division. I sent him back to Gordonsville, with instruc tions to confine himself to the limits of that town in arrest until further orders. He obeyed the command and went to Gordonsville. Just a* I was leaving the Rappahannock I received a long letter of apology from him. and directed him to jcin his command. As ! we were preparing for the charge at : Manna-seas, Tombs got there. He was riding rapidly, with hie hat in his hand, and was much enthused. I wa* just sending a courier to his command with a dispatch. "Let me carrv it." he exclaimed. “With pleasure," I responded, and banded him the paper. He put spurs tohishorseand dashed , off. accompanied by a courier. When he rode up and took command of his brigade there was wild enthusiasm, and, everything being ready, an ex ultant shout was sent up and th imen sprang to the charge. I never bad | any more trouble with Toomb*. We 1 were ever afterward warm personal friends — Gen. Loogatreet in Febiua* ry Century. , , , A Kansas Torjudo.—"One July night," continued the tall man, "I had my wheat all stacked ready for threshing, and went to bed feeling a* rich as if I owned the whol* county. l About rddnight, a* near aa I can re* collect, I heard a clap of thunder, and then the house began to rock like a willow tree Then everything wae quiet for a little while, and I went to sleep. Early the neat morning my wife got up and looked out of the win dow. “John." said ahe, “where on earth is your wheat T' “What ?" said I jumping out of bed, “what's that you say ?" “Where'* the wheat ?" “I looked out of the window, too, and stranger, I saw the most remark* able eight I ever eaw. There wasn't a grain of wheat within a mile. There 1 wasn't a remnant of my barn. My i barn yard was gone, tbe house, the i cows, and even the pigs were gone. 1 got dressed and walked out doors. Tbs place was changed, stranger— changed in a single night. My house was aittiog in a garden by the aide of a creek. There M a new hernia I the yard, aome red eows—-mine were \ white; some black pige—mine were i spotted, sad instead of wheat there ’ was the ailftrsdeel stack of corns talks vea ever leoked at. I thought at first e*4 *** kick me, but I wasn't. About break fast time some neighbor# came io and asked where Mr. Jones was. I never beard of him. “He used to live here," they said. "He lived here last night. I hen I told them of the crash and the rocking, and they said I must have been struck by a tornado. I asked where I was; they said I was in Izard bounty, which was fifty miles South of where I wjnt to bed. Sure enough they were right. The strangest part of it was the house waaft l hurt. The roof, even, didn t leak. The neighbors said it was a visitation of Providence, and the place belonged to me. But that wasn't all, stranger. About a year afterward I heard from some of my old neighbors that Jones' house had been moved right up to where my old house stood, bv the same blasted wind. We both con cluded to stay where we were and avoided any trouble on that account. I've been away three months, and can t exactly say where I do live now, but I expect I arastill at the oldstand." A Preference on the Gallows. —A funny anecdote connected with the Hon. Joe Blackburn's first race for Congress is told. Joe happened to be passing through Owenton, the county seat tf Owen county, on the occasion of tie banging of a noted criminal. As a hanging is rather an exceptional episode in the State of Kentuckv. the honorable Joe con cluded he would stop over a few hours and witness the event. The gallows was erected in the public square, no that no citizen, however humble, should lose the opportunity of witnessing the unusual spectacle. It was, in fact, a gala day such as the history of Owenton has seldom re corded. The Sheriff, with true Ken tucky hospitality, invited Blackburn, ! as one of tba distinguished guest* pre * sent, to occupy a sea* on the gallows. ! Blackburn did so. Affer the prelim* ' . inaries had been arranged, the Sher* 1 iff consulted his watch and discovered that it was not quite twelve o'clock, 1 the hour fixed f '.c the execution. Turn j ing to the prisoner, he said : ‘ j “You Lave ten minutes yet to live. 1 Is there anything you de-die to eay in the meantime ? ’ The prisoner sullenly replied there 1 was not. At this instant Blackburn sprang from his seat, and, advancing to the edge of the scaffold, said : “If the gentleman will allow me Lis remaining ten minutes I will he glad to announce myself as a candidate for your suffrage#. If elected to Con* gress—” At this point the prisoner interjec r ted "Say, you. I* your name Joe Blackburn ?" “Yes, sir, - ' responded Blackburn, politely. Turning to the Sheriff, the prisoner said : I "We won’t stand on a few minutes, more or less, when the alternative is presented of death on one hand or lit* I tening t > one of Joe Blackburn's long winded speeches on the other. Spring the trap and let me go." The good nature*) Sheriff obliging* ly “sprung the trap,“*and the next instant the desperado swung into eler* nity, akila BUckburn clambered down the gallows, exclaiming, as be wool, that be had lost the greatest op|>orta nity of bis life. , It Cured the Cat —A man recent ly cured hts cat of getting u)*on the ; table in search of provendlr. He left some uitro-glycenne in a sanoer close to the edge of the table and poured a little milk on it, then went out and waited. As he peeped through the window be saw the cat jump upon the • table. He smiled Soon the cat found the milk, and in drinking it put its Daw into the saucer. The mao | laughed aloud with glee. Then he heard a noise, and slowly got up from a corn field ovtr the fence, picked several eorde of Splinters out of him self and stalled into *he house to see how the eat fed, but he was surprised i when he found the cat had gone and taken the Luuse with her. ! —a ■ a MTTeacher —"Now dusie, you may read the next verse.'' Susi*—“Cast thy bread upon the water." Teacher !— ‘ Susie, wh? should we cast our bread upon the water?" Susie— “To feed the fish, ma ma." i £3T For cum, bruises, sprains or strains, barns, scalds, frost-bitas, chilblains and bitea of poisonous in sects. nothing eqaale Salvation Oil It enaikilatee ssis. Fries 89 veals e • %