The Brookhaven ledger., August 03, 1876, Image 1

About The Brookhaven ledger. (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1875-1883

Image provided by: Mississippi Department of Archives and History

®k StotkSim Cetyer*
_L --^4 - ------——
My iowtry-Mar Sh* Krer B« Rigktt MBifblfr Wraaf-Mr CMatr; ! _ ________
VO!,. 5. BltOOKHAVKN, MISS^THUUSDAY, AUGUST 3, 1870. _ NO. 4».
ROBERT HIRAM HENRY,
Editor and Proprietor. ^
Til iiikook h
WAS CONSOLIDATED WITH
rV h e LEDGER
April 8th. 1870.
Hales of Miitmrriplion.
one copy one year, in advance, 5 2 50
• • •• o months, - - - 150
•i » 3 “ - . - *5
Fite eopieH rue year. ... 1000
JACKSON. __
Purchase Your Spring and
Summer Clothlngfrom
JOHN CLEARY,
dealer in
Fine Ready-made Clothing,
AND
Gents' Furnishing Goods,
Trunks, Valises, Carjiet-bags, Umbrellas,
and a general assortment of Fine Boots
and Shoes; also, a fine assortment of
Ladies’ and Children's Shoes.
State Street, Jackson, Miss.
Dec. 1«»-1 v
ROBERT 8PROULE,
Bools. Binder
|
AND
|
Blank Book Manufacturer j
Jacksea, - - - MlnwhsUppL
Specil anttention given to the manufac
ture of all kinds of County Books, tmd
Binding ol every description.
Bindery on Capitol street, opposite the
Clatiou ofllce. may lH-tl
is via is it. i cm: is's
RESTAURANT
—
Sleep ing Apartment s\
Bar and Billiard Saloon,
SPK^ULEIt’N 40 K A E U. ,
(Opposite State Honse.)
Jackson..Mississippi
JOHN J. RO HUB AG'11 Elf,
Feb. 17-1 v Proprietor. j
EE. El. Sizer,
Jnoknoiii - lliwftiftsippi. ■
|
.
Has Wagons. Buggies,Light Carriages,
Xlottse Furniture, liar
ness. Haridlery, Plows,
Hv.eeps, (him hiii) Isfc»
«y. Loathe. Belting.
GO TO SEE HIM.j
rmST-CI-AS» HOAKIMXd
-AT
THE NELSON HOUSE,
Jackson, ------- •• llissliislpin.
Die table is at all times supplied with
the best rue market adonis. Terms
reasonable.
J"no. H. Green,
MERCHANT TAILOR.
WESSON, MISS.,
Hereby notifies the people of Lincoln and
adjoining counties that lie is prepared to
make all kinds ot gentlemen’s suits at
short notice, and on tlie most reasonable
terms. He will visit Brookhaven and all
towns on the Jackson and New Orleans
Railroad, Monticello and other towns in
the interior, and take gentlemen’s measures,
so that they can order when they wish
clothes made. mar. 23-ly.
Or. A. II. Thompson,
Physician and Surgeon,
BOGUECHITTO, MISS.
Dec. 2-ly.
Harry Gilmore,
(of Aberdeen, Mfaa.,)
—WITH—
LIVE OAK OfSTILLE RY,
CINCINNATI.
Schmidlapp A Co., Props.
Sept. 9-lyr.
Xo the; Workiag ri«)«.-We can
furnish you emp.oyment at which you can
make very large pay, in your own locali
ties, without being away from home over
night. Agents wanted in every town and
count v to take subscribers for the Centen
nial ileewd, the largest publicatiou in the
United States—16 pages, 64 columns; Ele
gantly Illustrated; Terms only $1 per year.
The Record is devoted to whatever is of in
terest connected with the Centennial year.
The great exhibition at Philadelphia is
fully illustrated in detail. Everybody
wants it. The whole people feel great in
terest in their country’s Centennial Birth
day, and want to know all about it. An
elegant patriotic crayon drawing premium
picture is presented free to each subscriber.
It is entitled, “In remembrance of the
One Hundreth Anniversary of the Inde
pendence of the United States.” Size, 23by
30 inches. An v one can become a successful
agent, for out show the paper and picture
and hundreds of subscribers are easily ob
tained everywhere. There is no business
that will pay like this at present. We have
many agents who are making as high as
$20 per day and upwards. Now is the
lime; don’t delay. Remember ‘ it costs
nothing to give the business a trial. Bend
for our circulars, terms, and sample copy
of paper, which are sent free to all who
apply; do it to-day. Complete outfit to
those who decide to engage. Farmers and
mechanics, and their sons and daughters
make the verv best of agents. Address,
THE CENTENNIAL. RECORD,
,ntte 99-les. Portland, Maine.
Arrlere Penncs.
Me wraps me round with hi* richer,
He covers me up with his care,
And his love is the love of a manhood
Whose life is a living prayer.
I have plighted my woman’s affections,
I have giveu my all in all,
Aud the flowers of a daily contentment
Renew their Jives ere they fall.
And yet like an instrument precious,
That plaveth an olden tune,
My heart in the midst of its blessings
Goes back to a day in J line—
To a day when beneath the branches
I stood by a silent stream,
And saw in tut bosom r.u image,
As one seeth a face in a dream.
I would not resign his devotion,
No, not for a heart that lives,
Xor change one jot of my condition
For the change that condition gives;
I should mourn not more for another,
Xor more for another rejoice,
Than now when I weep at his absence,
Or welcome hia step and his voice.
And yet, like an instrument precious,
That playeth au olden tunc,
My heart in the midst of its blessings
Goes baek to a day in .1 unc—
Ton day when beneath the branches
I stood in the shadowy light,
And beard the low words of a whisper
As one heareth a voice in the night.
BODKIN’S CENTENNIAL SPEECH
They didn’t go to tho Centenuial
birtli-day'Of-the-nation display at Phil
adelphia on the immortal Fourth, nor
to the local celebration which a bene
ficent Congress recommended for the
benefit of the can't'get-aways. Twelve
o’clock. July 4th, 187d, found them—a
half score of young fellows, with three
or four old gray-boards' as merry as tile
youngest—sitting on tbe grass near the
meandering Bnttnhatchie, washing down
their crackers nnd Bologna sausages
_’at. 7...... .. ».! 4t>n 1.1 rr 1 n/\mn
"*«•** »•• *ev “—" o
jug, which, from the scent that filled
the circumambient air, contained some
thing stronger than milk or water.
The meal over, and no one having
thought to bring n copy of the Decla
ration along, Bodkins rose to Ilia feet,
and began his Centennial oration.
THE SPEECH.
One hundred years ago! [A pause of
twelve seconds, followed by loud ap
plause ] One hundred years ago, this
day! [applause.] Annihilate time and
space, and let your minds go back to
that solemn sceue—the most memom
ble in the nunals of time. [Applause. |
To properly appreciate the grandeur of
the great event, imagine yourself on the
spot, and conceive the surroundings.
The glinting sunbeams roJinte with
glory the massive dome of our nation's j
capitol.
“Hold oil there, Bodkins, the capitol
wasn’t built at that time,” said Ben
Brister. “It wasn’t till a quarter of a
century after that Washington became
a one-horse village." “You go to
thunder,” said Bodkins, “how’s a fel
ler to speak, if you break the thread of
his discourse, just as he begins to un
wind it?"—
As I remarked, fellow-citizeus, the
noonday sun pours down his golden
beams, tilling with light and glory, em
blematic of her resplendent future, the
first day in the life of the nation. [ Ap
plause. [ Far out on the water rides a
magnificent steamer—
“Bteam hadn’t been applied to navi
gation at that day,” Said Dick Jones.
“The thunder it hadn’t!” 6aid Bod
kins.—
As I re marked, far out on the water
there rides a magnificent iron-clad—
“Ships were not iron clad at that
time,” remarked one of thegray-beards.
“A lofty- turreted monitor, I intend-,
ed to say,” said Bodkins.
“Monitors were invented during our
civil war,” remarked the gray-beards.
“A sloop of war!” screamed Bodkins.
“I guess a sloop of war is the next most
ancient vessel to Noah’s Ark, and I
reckon yon can’t go back of that.”—
From the top-most peak of a huge
doop floats the glorious flag of our
sountry, (loud applause) bearing on its
imple folds thirteen stripes and t.hir
y-seven stars. (A voice, “Add one for
Dolorada.”)
Thirty-eight stars emblazoned on its
imple folds, each emblematic of a sov
jreigu State of our glorious Union.
Applause by the red-haired youth in
:he white slouched hat.]
“There wfere but thirteen States then,
Bodkins, so there could have been
do more than thirteen stars,” remarked
Dne who, from the wise look he put ou,
was evidently a school-master.
"Give my imagination a little room,
gentlemen,” said Bodkins, entreat
ingly.
“Besides, the stars and stripes were
not adopted as the flag of the Confedera
tion till some years later,” persisted the
scnool-master.
“Question!” shouted a big chested,
middle-aged man, who hod apparently
imbibed more than liis share of the con
tents of the jug.
“Let’s all hands liquor,” suggested
a ruddy-faced youth not out of his
teens. This, like a motion to adjourn,
being always in order, was acceded to
new con. Refreshments beiug over,
Bodkins proceeded with his address.
• — See those venerable men assembled
around the table on which lies spread
out the great charter of our liberties
—the, birth-register of almighty nation.
Consider the grandeur—the sublimity
of the stupendous event, to view which
angels might well have been pardoued
for hanging over the cerulean battle
ments of heaven! [Great applause.] A
nation about to be born—the magna
charta of our liberties about to be sign
ed! [Renewed applause, during which
the big-chested fellow falls back on the
grass.] Englishmen boast that their
ancestors—the grim old barons—forced
King John to sign magna charta un
der the oak et Runnymsds: But onr
ancestors, one hundred years ago,
didn’t care a continental red whether
their King signed their magna oharta
or pot; they signed it for themselves and
tneir posterity, with own good right
hands. [Tremendous applause, and
cries of "Bully for Bodkins.’’]
Consider, I say, the grandeur of the
event, as one by one those immortal
men take up the diamond-pointed gold
pen and sign the Declaration of inde
pendence.
“Diamond-pointed gold pens hadn t
come into nse at that time,” said the
schoolmaster, “nor Bteel pens either,
for that matter.”
“Is that so?” said Bodkins. “What
the thunder’d they write with then?”
“Qooso quilsl” answered the school
master seutentionsly.
As, ono by one they grasped the
gray goose quill and affixed their names
to the immortal document. Just one
hundred years ago. this mighty uation
sprang into being with an elastic bound
I just as the goddess Minerva, in her
i birth, leaped from the brain of Jupi
tor, full grawu, and armed and equip
ped ns tho law directs. [Vociferous ap
plause, in which the red-haired youth
knocks the hand’e and neck ofl of the
brown jug. Sensation.)
The deed is done! The big-mouthed
cannon announces the fact to land and
sea; the sweet-tongued church-bells
! riug the glad tidings to the listening air;
| and the winged lightnings of heaven,
! swifter than Mercury, the mail-boy of
the gods, bear the glorious news on the
Iw.mltliner a-iriiQ rtf folruvrartlt rtVAr 111!
Columbia's land, [A voice, “Hold on
there, Bodkins!”] from New York to
San Francisco, from Chicago to Now
Orleans!
“The telegraph hadn’t been invented
then,” said one of the grav-boards.
“And San Francisoo and New Orleans
were Spanish towns,” said the school
master.
“And Chicago,” said Brister, “was
where you are getting, Bodkins—in the
woods.”
“That's so,” said Bodkins. “Just
bear with me, gentlemen, till I wind up
the tangle thread of my oration ns gen
tly as possible, and I’ll come ton close.”
[“Hurrah, Bodkins!” “Go on, Bod
kins!"]
Augels—that's the idea I meant to
convey; hang your new faugled tele
graph, anyhow—angels whisper the glo
rious news to waiting hearts through al!
Columbia's laud, and the fierce-eyed
eagle screams it as ou iron pinions borne
he bursts through the black thunder
cloud:— A natioujborn, a great nation, a
mighty nation, a nation of near fifty
millions of people, spreading trom the
Atlantic to the Pacific, and strengtliing
from the coral reefs of Florida to the
rocks of Alaska—clad in mail of eternal
ice.
“You confound two historic periods,
Mr. Bodkins,” remarked the school
master, “the nation, or, as I should say
the Union of to day and the Confedera
tion of oue hundred years ago.”
It was the nation of to-day. that
was born one hundred years ago.—
When I say George Washington was
born on the 22nd of February, 1732, do
I menu the diminutive infant with just
vitality enough to kick and cry, and
with nothing to distinguish it from a
million other childreu of the Bame sex
and age? N-e-v-e-r-!-! I mean the
great and magnanimous Washington of
history—the Washington whose gleam
ing sword plucked from Briton's King
the brightest gem in his crown.
[Cheers. ] So when I speakjof the nation
that was born, I mean the nation that
fills so bright a pagein the world’s his
tory. My exuberant fancy blends in
one the nation of 1776 and the nation of
1876. What is there between them?
Only a hundred years? And what's, a
hundred years in the life of a great na
tion? Orlv a little grain of sand in the
huge hour glass of Time!
Bodkins took his seat amid storms of j
applause, and as the whisky in the bro
ken jug needed speedy attention to pre
ven evaporation and decomposition, the
further consideration of the subject was
postponed to July 4th, 1$76.
—From the Columbus Democrat.
Gov. Tilden’s Household.
The members of Gov. Tilden’s house
hold, at Albany, are his sisters, Mrs.
Pelton, a sedate, matronly widow lady;
her son, Col. Pelton, and his daughter,
the latter, a little lady of twelve Bum
mers, who has lived with the Governor
sinoe she was two years old. So it may
be seen that the bachelor Governor and
prospective bachelor President is as
pleasantly surrounded, socially, as most
married gentlemen. He has his pets,
and they all seem to encourage and re
pay his kindness. la the event of his
election, should that be the result of
theoomiug canvass, Mrs. Pelton could
not fail to prove as graceful and accom
plished a hostess in Washington as she
is universally acknowledged to be in
Albany. She has resided with the Gov
ernor since bis inauguration, and being
as affable and entertaining as he is him-'
self, she has contributed in no small
measure, to the enjoyment of his
guests.
At.t, Southerners will read the follow
ingextraot from the New York World 1
with feelings of pride and pleasure:
“Antoinette Polk, a daughter of the <
soldier-bishop, is the belle par excel- i
lence of Roman society. She unites
in herself as many attractions as if all i
the fairies had been at her christening. '
The “bine blood” of one of the first I
Southern families, wealth enough for i
worldly needs, and the beauty of per- i
feot features, and a grand classic style, i
she has the world at her feet, and it is .
rumored that tho prince Doris, is among i
her suitors.” 1
The Boy, the Beetle, anil the Dog.
r\ Sketch from Mark Twain's “Tom
Sawyer.’’]
The minister gave out his text and
droned along monotonously through au
argument which was so prosy that mauy
a head by-and-by began to nod—and
yet it was an argument that dealt in
limitless fire and brimstone, and thin
ned the predestined elect down to a
company so small as to hardly be worth
the saving. Tom oounted the pages of
t.he sermon; after ehuroh he always
knew how mauy pages there had been,
but he seldom know anything else
about the discourse. However, this
time he was really interested for a little
while. The minister made a grand and
moving picture of the assembling to
gether of the world’s hosts at the mil
leniuiu, wheu the lion and the lumb
should lie down together and a little
child should lead them. But the pathos,
the lesson, the moral of the great spec
tacle were lost upon the boy— he only
thought of the couspicuousuess of the
principal character before the oulooking
nations; his fuoe lit up with the thought,
and he Raid to himself that he wished
he oould he that child, if it was a tame
lion.
Now lie lapHed into suffering again at
the dry argument was resumed. Pres
ently he bethought himself of a treas
tire he had, and got it out. It was r
large black beetle, with formidable
jaws—a “pinch bug” he called it. II
was in a percussion cap-lxix. The first
thing the beetle did was to take him by
the finger. A natural fillip followed,
the beetle went floundering into the
aisle, aud the hurt finger went into the
hoy’s mouth. The beetle lay there
working his helpless legs, unable t-c
turn over. Tom eyed it, aud longed foi
i...t ....,.e 1 • _u
Other people, uninterested in the ser
mou, found relief in the beetle, and
they eyed it too.
Presently a vagrant poodle dog came
idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the
summer's softness and the quiet, weary
of captivity, sighing for a change. He
spied the beetle, the drooping tail lifted
and wagged. He surveyed the prize;
walked around; smelt of it from a safe
distance; walked around it again; grew
bolder, and took a closer smell, then
lifted his lip and made a gingerly snatch
at it, but missed it, made another and
another; began to enjoy the diversion;
subsided to his stomach with the beetle
between liis paws, anil continued his
experiments; grew weary at last, and
then indifferent and absent-minded.
His head nodded, and little by little his
jniu descended and touched the enemy,
who seized it. There was a sharp yelp,
i flirt of the po .'die’s head, and the beo
tlo fell a oouplo of yards away and lit
ra its back ouce more. The neighbor
ing spectators shook with a gentle in
ward jov, several faces went behind
fans and handkerchiefs, and Tom was
sntirely happy. The dog looked fool*
ish, and probabiy felt so; but there was
resentment in his heart, too; and a
-raving for revenge. So he went to fhe
beetle and begau a wary attack on it
igain; jumping at it from every poiutof
a circle, landing with his forepaws
within an inch of the creature making
sven closer snatches at it with his
teeth, and jerking his head until his
Mrs dropped again. Bnt he grew tired
race more, after awhile; tried to amuse
bimself with a fly, bnt found no relief:
Followed an ant aronnd, with his nose
slose to the floor, and quickly wearied
of that; yawned, sighed, forgot the bee
tle entirely, and sat down on it. Then
there was a wild yelp of agony, and the
poodle went sai'ing up the aisle; the
yelps continued, and so did the dog; he
jrossed the house in front of the altar;
lie flew down the other aisle; he crossed
before the door; he clamored up the
homestretch; his anguish grew with his
progress, till presently he was a woolly
somet, moving in its orbit with the
?leam and speed of light. At last the
Frantic sufferer sheered from its course
ind sprang into its master’s lap; he
Sung it out of the window, and the
voice of distress quickly thinned away
md died in the distance. * * *
rora Sawyer went home quite cheerful,
thinking to himself that there was some
satisfaction alwut divine service when
there was a bit of variety about it. He
liad but one marring thought; hq was
willing for the do* play with lii»
pinch-bug, but be did not think it was
ill right to carry it off.
- -
A Mighty Enterprise.
The great feat accomplished by the
United States in connecting the Atlan
;io and Pactflo Oceans, by a railroad
icross the United States, is stimulating
mterprise in Europe; and it is now pro
josed—indeed, the plan is matured—to
sonnect tbe Atlantio and Pacific Oceans
ay a railroad through Central Asia. At
i conference of the geographers, recent
y held, Col. Bogdanowitz explained
some of tbe details of the road, which,
t is expected, will overcome one of the
greatest obstacles to the extension of
iivilization, namely, the separation of a
arge part of Asia from Europe by vast
leserts, in which no meaus of transit
jut a railroad could be of any use. A
•ailroad alone can develop the resources
>f the many lands through which it
would pass; and as the mineral wealth
>f Siberia and the Ural Mountains is
well known, the exploration and mining
>f these regions would be encouraged,
ind their resources developed.
It is proposed that the road shall
itart from Nijni Novgorod, in Russia,
where is now the extreme eastern sta
tion in the net-work of European rail
nods; it will run along the Volga, the
lama, to Ekaterinbourg, on the Asiatic
tide of the Ural Mountains, then enter
Lsia, prooeed in the direction of Trou
nen and Omsk at the Irtish, cross the
iver, prooeed by the way of Kainsk to
Tomtit on the Tem, a branch of the
Obi, |imI QfOM that river. Tomsk is
the pdnoipd center of eomassroe of
Westaffa Siberia; U»—e the mafl uW"
run directly to IrkuUli, at Lake Baikal;
thence the road is to pass to the frontier
of Ch|a, and thence it is no longer au
e reins rely Russian, .but an internation
al i not irtnking.
And tere, also, the only serious engi
noerinf difficulties commence, at the
mount in range of Kioghan, which, in
its nof tern part, is crossed by the
Araoog diver. This range is the great
est ob< scle, and it will be necessary to
pass b; the Mantohooria, and to lay the
rood f tm Baikal to Vcrhneoudinsk,
throngi the valley of the Bclenga.
Then tie best route by which to reach
Pekin,jhe capital of China, near the
YcllowBea (a bay of the Northern Pa
cific Oeiap) has been found to be that
of Teliia and Dolournor. At the
southert end the famons great wall will
he crossil; it already lies in ruin in
many pities. The whole distance from
Nijni Novgorod to Pekin will be four
thousand five hundred miles, of which
two thousand eight hundred run through
Russiau irritory.
Wheu this plan is closely examined,
according to known topographical data, I
the appment difficulties dwindle down
to nothing, when compared to those eu
counterec iu the western section of our
Pacific Uiilroad. The first section from
Nijni Novgorod to Tomsk, runs on per
fectly level land (the so-called steppes),
similar t> our prairies. In the second
section from Tomsk to Lake Baikal, the
country is rolling, aud interpersed with
riven aud streams; but the greatest
hviglt is only three thousand five hun
j dredfeet, aud the largest rivers ure but
« . 1 . I __: ni.1 J_it. rpu..
onlyherious difficulties, as we have said,
lie a) the Chinese frontier, and they are
inferior to those overcome in the Rocky
Mountains and the Sierra Nevada by the
A »«ricru engineers.
Russia has raised in fifteen years
more than one billion dollars with
which to construct fifteen thousand
miles of railroad, and can easily find
thwe or four hundred millions to con
struct a line of such value to all the
civilized world.—Scientific American.
Cremation in Sooth Carolina.
Mabion, S. O., July 17.—A strange
I and solemn event has recently occurred
! iu this county, which carries the mind
back to those ancient days when the
remains of the dead were disposed of
by cineration. The subjert of this re
markable funeral ceremony was Mr.
Huarv Berry, an aged and a highly
resaeatable citizen of this oonnty,
whose rare tact, industry, and economy,
honestly exercised, enabled him to amass
a very large property. Many years
ago, in attempting remove the remains
of a beloved relative from the spot they
had lain for some time, he encountered
a sight which created in his mind an
uuoonqnorable aversion to being buried
and to such an extent did this preju
dice possess him in after life that he
enjoined it upon his heirs, on pain of
disinheriting them, to see that his body
was burned after death. He was care
ful to designate the spot where the cer
emony should take place, and the light
wood trees that should be used as fuel
on the occasion.
The old gentleman, after lingering
for many months, died on Saturday,
the 9th inst., and on the following
Tuesday his strange desire respecting
the disposition of his remains was car
ried out to the letter. The funeral ser
vice of the church of which he had
once been a member was read, and au
appropriate discourse delivered by the
paster on the Monday evening previous.
The next morning his remains, encased
in notlxiug but a square box, which, by
1 * "I * A.* VvAAt, linn<laAmolw
111(3 Ultwvtvuei --•>
lined inside and encased outside with
black velvet, and ornamented with
trimmings, were borne to the spot
which he himself had selected for the
purpose. Here three large lightwood
logs, each nearly two feet in diameter,
cut trom the very same trees he had
indicated, were placed alongside on the
grouud, and upon these logs the box
was deposited. Lightwood pieces of
sufficient length and thickness were
then piled upon the logs and around
the coffin until the latter was hidden
from view. The lightwood was then
piled in cioss layers until the pyre
reached a heighth of seven or eight
feet. A torch was then applied at dif
ferent corners of the pile, and in few
minutes the raging fire resembled the
burning of a large building, the flames
leaping many feet iu the air, and send
ing hundreds of feet higher a vast col
umn of pitch-black smoke that was
seen for many miles aronud. It is said
that the fire died out without entirely
consuming the remains, and had to be
replenished before the cremation was
complete. It was the o d gentleman s
expressed desire that his ashes should
disappear amid the flames and smoke,
or be mingled with the soil underneath
the pyre, and so no precautions were
taken to preserve them. The burning
began at eight o’olock in the morning,
and was finished in six hours. It was
witnessed by upward of a hundred per
sons. Mr. Berry resided at Berry’s i
Cross Roads, a locality that took it name 1
from him. It is about fourteen miles :
from this place.
This was the injunction, “Ashes to
ashes,” carried out nnder conditions
that made it impossible to fulfil other
precepts, “Earth to earth, and dust to 1
dust/__ _ 1
Dior children, ye ought not to cease <
from hearing or declaring the word of i
God, because you do not always live ac*> I
cording to it, or keep it in mind. For |
inasmuch as you love it and crave after i
it, it will assuredly be given unto you ; <
and you shall enjoy it forever with God, i
according to the measure of your desire i
after it.
reffersoa Dari* and Mississippi Brpa
diattea.
We reprint from the New York JTren
tbaloB»wiiig'pc«Twtn letter in
relation to a matter not generally uu
lerstood, even in the State of Missis
sippi:
Mkmpius, Tm., Sept 3, ’70.
“My Dear Miss R: * * * I had
no more to do with the repudiation hy
Mississippi of the bonds issued than
either of you had. I was sunt to oollego
when a boy; from college went to West
Point, from West Point into the army,
and served on the Indian frontier until
1830, when I married and left the army.
I took up my residence in a very retired
place, distant from the country in which
my father lived and where I had been
so that I wag a stranger in Mississippi,!
seldom leaving the canebmke in which
I lived, when, in 1836, the lost of these
notorious bonds were issued.
"It was seven years thereafter befora
I was brought into any political discus
sion, and theu only in the country iD
which I resided. Before that time
— 1833 —the famous Union Bank
bonds had been repudiated, and
though the question still entered iftto
party politics it had little more than an
historical existence.
“Upon the question as a politico
moral one I opposed the doctrine of re->
pndiation, insisting that governments,
like individuals when claims were made
against them, had no right to make any
other issue than one of fact. Is there
a debt, or is there not?
“Pur that publicly declared opinion the
party of repndiators made war upon me in
the beginning of my political life, using
both stratagem and concentration of
their forces to defeat my nomination
for Congress in 1845. I was in full fel
lfitrahm with the Democratic oartv of
Mississippi, aud though most of the
repudiators were iu it, they were still in
a minority, and, sustained by the party,
I was nominated.
“About this time the new phase of
repudiation presented itself in a bill to
cancel bebts due to banks which had
violated their charter. This was relied
upon as a popular thing to control the
Democratic party, and to check my
political progress. Before the nomina*
ting convention met I wrote a letter and
printed oopies of it.
“These were distributed among the
members when they met. The letter
severely condemned the project as
againt good morals aud integrity, even
if it could be sustained at law. Some
of my best friends strougly advised
against the circulation of that letter,
pronouncing it an set of political sui
cide, while eJiuitliiig that it stated
what every honest man must feel. I
am glad to say that their fears wefe not
realized; the honest instincts of my fel
low-citizenf sustained the right.
“I may here add that I never at any
time held any civil office in the State of
Mississippi.
“When the Federal Government
sought to discredit Jthe Confederacy in
Foreign markets, they sent-to Eng
land to present me as a repudiator. No
man knew better than he the falsity of
liis representations, for he was an ao
tive politician in Mississippi when re
pudiation occurred, and it was years
afterward before he knew of my exis
tence.
“To his misrepresentations, and to
my defense, in your father’s paper, of
he honor of Mississippi long after the
ict termed ‘repudiation’ had been
loue, is I suppose, to be attributed the
surrent slander which has provoked our
'riend Mrs. M.
“With tediousness of detail I have
jiven yon the facts as they . bear upon
nyself connected with the question,
ind you can give Mrs. M. as much or
is little as you please. * * *
“As ever, truly your friend,
“Jefferson Davis.”
The Latest Wonder of Telegraphy.
The readers of the Telegraph have
Jeen made acquainted with the wonder
lerful inventions of Prof. Bell, by
which musical aud vocal sounds can be
&nd have been sent over tho electrib
wires, hot few, if any, arc aware of the
wonderful results which are sure to fol
low these improvements in telegraphy.
A few nights ago Prof. Bell was in com
munication with a telegraph operator
iu New York, and commenced experi
ments with one of his inventions per
taining to the transmission of musical
sounds. He made use of his phonetic
organs and played the tune of “Ameri
ca,” and asked the operator in New
York what he heaid.
“I hear the tune of ‘America,’” re
plied New York. “Give us another.”
Prof. Bell lhen played “Auld Lang
3yne.”
“What do you hear now?”
“I hear the tune of ‘Auld Lang
3vne,’ with the full chorus, distinctly,”
replied New York.
Thus the astounding discovery lias
seen made that a man can play upon
nusical instruments in New York, New
Orleans, or London, or Paris, and be
leard distinctly iu Boston! if this can
je done, why cannot distinguished per
'ormers execute the most artistic and
leautiful music in Paris aud an audi
mce assemble in Mnsic Hall, Boston,
;o listen? Prof. Bell’s other improve
nent, namely, the transmission of the
iu man voice, has become so far perfect
id that persons have conversed over a
thousand miles of wire with peifect
iase, although as yet the vocal sounds
ire not loud enough to be heard by
nore than one or two persons. But if
ihe human voice can now be sent over
,lie wire, and so distinctly that wheb
wo or three known parties are tele
graphing the voices of each can be reo
igmzed, we may soon have distinguish
id men delivering speeches in Washing
on, New York or London, and audi
inoes assembled in MuBio Hall or Fan
mil Hall to listen!—Boston Traveler.
Bwftfer Life, Present and Past.
The terrible fate of Custer and hii
gallant three hundred adda aaotbei
tragic chapter to the great book of Bor
der events, whose beginning dates from
the earliest settlements of our country,
whose end will be only when the Indium
as a race shall have become extinct.
Thu horrors of (he Modoc enmpaigt:
are yet fresh in our memories. The
historic Lava Beds, Indian cunning
baffling the skill of onr soldiery for so t
long a time, savage malignity
and treachery culminating in the
death of the brave Can by
and others whose mission ' win
honorably treaty and peace—ull these
are still remembered with a shudder.
Iheir parallels in device and atrocity
are only fonnd in the deeds that com
pose the history of the “Dark and
Bloody Grouud,” or among those which
murk the blooy tracks of the treacher
ous Mingoes, descending from theii
Great Lake fastnesses upon the unsus
pecting tribes and settlements of th<
Susquehanna and Allegheny.
So with this heart rending story o
Custer and his men, which has beei
sprung upon the country so suddenly
and which :s being read amid tears o
sorrow and calls for vengeance, fron
one end of the land to the other. Soim
may find its parallel in the history o
Leonidas and his three hundred; soim
may seek for like sacrifices amid tin
annals of the Scottish Chiefs or Foils!
I Patriots. But it is only when we tun
I to the thrilling chapters of our old Bor
der history that we read and re-read, ir
intpnspsifb-d from the 1III Kid v Htorv o'
-Rose Bud and Big Horn Rivers. Cus
ter and his three hundred, ambushed bj
a wily foe and melt away in death be
fore odds rendered doubly aud terribly
formidable by bewildering shrieks and
stealthy mode of fighting, recall with
vivid effect the tragedy of Braddock's
Field, whose details are graphically and
fully narrated in that wonderful book,
“Our Wcsteru Border Oue Hundred
Years Ago.”*
Or if other parallels be sought, they
abouud in the same brilliant, stirring
and faithfully volume; for Custer and
Lava Beds, Modoc and Sioux, are but
repetition, now fainter, now fiercer, of
Dulzcli aud Bloody Run, Crawford and
Battle Island. Banner and the Miami
Towns.
The new story, whether of victory or
defeat, massacro or escape, cunning or
adventure, treachery or dash, hardship
or retreat, is but an epitome of tbe old
filled with its quaint aud primative por
traitures, haloed about by thrilling tra
ditions. and sanctified to us by the
facts that our fathers were a part of it
and these our dwelling-places were
scenes in the midst of it.
*Our 'Western Border One Hundred
Years Ago. A new and tare Historical
volume of Border Life, Struggle aud
Adventure, by Charles McKnight, Esq.,
eight hundred pages, Price 83,00. Pub
lished by J. C. McCurdy & Co., Phil
adelphia, Pa., Cincinnati, O., Chicago,
111., and St. Louis, Mo., and sold by
Agent. For terms and illustrated Cir
cular address the Publisher.
About Hose.
For some time past it has been one of
the duties of ‘he police officers to go to
the various houses on their respective
beats aud ascertain the size, etc., of the
bose used in sprinkting the yards and
streets. Out on Grand Avenue one of
our sturdy peelers had watohed a long
time at the back yard of an aristocratic
mansion to try and obtain the necessary
information from the servant girl. But
she didu’t appear, anil finally, in a fit
of desperation, the officer walked round
to the front door and raug. A moment
later the lady of the house herself open
ed the door. This rather staggered the
officer, and without a word of prelimi
nary explanation he touched his hat and
led off with “Oood morning, madam;
I called to inquire what kiud of hose
you use?”
“Sir?” said the astonished lady, grow
ing about a gaiter heel taller.
“Yea’m. Very disagreeable to trouble
you, but we have to make these inqui
ries, mum. Duty, yon know.”
“Duty, indeed, sir. You miscreant
»*
“Beg pardon, madam. Perhaps yoi
don’t use any hose. I’m very sorry, bu
I don’t know.”
“Not use any hose. Oh, you villion!’
“Well, perhaps it’s rubber hose, mad
am?”
“Rubber hose!” she screamed. “Yoi
abominable wretch! What do yoc
mean?”
“I mean what kind of hose-”
“Well, of all the impudence!”
“I ask a thousand pardons, madam.
I aee yon don’t know-”
“I don’t know-”
“But here comes the kitchen maid.
She can tell me what I want to know."
“Susan, if you say one word to that
miserable brute I’ll discharge you. She
can tell you, can she? I should like to
see her.”
And so the officer had to retreat final
ly without accomplishing his purpose.
The lady told her husband, the husband
flew in a rage to the sergeant, the ser
geant explained the matter, and they
both agreed that it was a great outrage
that ought to be kept very quiet.—St.
Louis Times.
Dr. D. M. Wadinotoji, the popular
host of the West House, Durant, in re
sponse to our article of last week, call
ing on tome one to give a recipe to take
the bitter from milk, when oows had
eaten of bitter weed, writes us thst he
uses soda with suooess. He gives each
oow one tablespoonful, night and morn
ing in bran or meal, and the milk soon
become* nice and sweet.—Koteinsko
Star.
j One square, first Insertloa. each
! subsequent insertion 76 cents.
| oje square one jnal.W*; Wrtsquuren
.one year, 326. 2.
i onc-fourthcolumu one year w.*; •»'»
! lialf coluutu one year 9100,
One column one yeni $1*C. /~j»
Local Notices twenty cent* a line.
The space occupied by a aqiiare is on',
inch.
Marriage notices and death*, not ex
ceeding sis lines, jiubttabed free. At;
over si* llees charged for at regular ml
verliaias rates.
Mlieep Husbandry.
Id England, where tlio owner of tlic
land apportion# it mt to his renters,
who in torn snblet to tiller* of thoboil
who cultivate crops with hired labor,
everything is of necessity so reduced *o
system that the exact cost of a product
is known before it is thrown upon the
market. And constant inquiry is made,
after the most minute investigation
based upon experiments aH to the profit
or loss resulting from growing any ani
mal or cultivating any crops.
The Royal Agricultural Society of
England, in its recently issued half
yearly Journal, published a paper upon
the relative profits to the farmer from
breeding horses, cattle and sheep. This
paper is a compilation froui flCveuty
five reports received from as many sec
tions of the United Kingdom, Snd giv
ing in detail the experience of the best
and most successful farmers fn England
The conclusion of the Society is, that
with rare exceptions breeding thorough •
bred saddle and carrriage horses is
more expensive and less profitable than
■ breeding roadsters. Breediug any kind
i of a horse less profitable than breeding
cattle. “An ox with a bruised knee or
■ swonen joint is none toe less vaiuaoio
i to the butcher; but a colt with a broken
, knee or swollen hock is considerably re
[ duced in value.” But the bulk of
. the collected evidence was in favor of
. breeding sheep as profltab'e stock,
i If this be true in a country where
i lands rent annuity, for from twenty to
fifty dollars per acre, liow can it be oth
erwise than remunerative in the South
where the choicest sheep walks can bo
bought and paid for at less than half of
the above annuities? Surely some day
we will see sheep husbandry practiced
successfully where nature lias doue lur
more than her share of the Work.
The paper to the Royal Society of
England says:
“The return from sheep is quicker
than from cattle. They are more easi
ly managed and require less labor and
attention than cattle or horses. They
also produce two sources of inoorne in
the year, one from a sale of a portion of
the stock, and the other from the dis
posal of the wool. On' dry farm?, al
most wholly arable, growing heavy
root crops, they are the best stock to
keep. The beet slieep to maintain de
pends on the nature of the soil, and tho
climate of any district—just as the case
of cattle.”
Raising and ricking Geese.
We clip the following on the sbovo
subject from an agricultural exchange:
Iu a late number of your valuable
paper a young farmer Wanis the advioc
and experience of aome person who has
had experience in raising and picking
geese. I am now nearly sixy yearn old,
and have raised and picked geese ever
since I was large eUough to hold a
goose in my lap. I will give you the
results of my experience. In the first
place I try to keep the flock as near
eqnnl as possible (as many ganders as
geese,) so they will mate equally in the
spring. Geeae are not like other fowls;
every gander has his own mate, al
though some ganders will have two
geese, and one goose will have two
ganders. Geese are very easily raised,
requiring but little attention. After
the goslings are a week old, feed them
on corn meal dough, with a little salt
in it, until they can eat young grass.
Care should be taken to give them shel
ter from hard rains, as they are easily
drowned previous to the time they be
gin to feather. They want nothing but
water in the summer. Feed grain in
winter, and they are all right. In the
pieking process, I pick atxmt every
seven weeks, if the feathers are ripe,
which oan be told by catching one and
plucking a few feathers from it; if the
quill of the feather is clear, they are
ripe; if the quill is full of blood, they
are not ripe. Pick nearly clear in
warm weather, bnt in winter not so
close. Care should be taken to give
them warm shelter in winter after pick -
ing. Pick all the small featliets and
leave the large ones except four or five
nnder each wing, which must be pluok
ed or the wings will droop. The yield
of feathers will be aliout one-quarter of
a pound to the goose each pioking,
when full feathered.
Social Intercourse.
What drives the farmer's children to
cities? Simply the lack of social inter
course in thi country. If yon would
keep your boys and girls at homo, make
agricultural society attractive. Pill the
farm house with book® and periodicals.
Establish central reading rooms, or
neighborhood clubs. Enoourage the
social meetings of the young. Have
concerts, lectnres. improvement associ
ations. Establish a bright, active, so
cial fife, that shall give some Signifi
cance to labor. Above all, bnild as
much as possible in villages. It is bet
ter to go a mile to one’s daily labor
than to" place one’s self a mile away
from a neighbor: The isolation of
American farm life i« the great curse of
that life, and it falls upon the young
people—the fcirls, especially—with pe
culiar hardship, driving them, too often,
away from comfortable li sines into tho
the perilous life of a crowded city.
The subject of the discourse of our
young friend, E. H. Dial, upon tho oc
casion of tho exhibition of the Gradn
ating olass of Oxford, of which he waa
a worthy member, was: “Tho Relation
existing between the Thalassioola of the
Radiolaria, and tho Rhamphorhynchua
of the Pterosauria.’’ We have always
thought that the relation whieh has ex
isted between these parties ought to be
1 letter explained than it is has been, and
it is gratifying to ns to know that there
will be no difficulty in understanding if
hpreaf ter'— Jfa-.