Mm IJij jj I (tfl) A A A A. ; TERMS I !. Per Year,) ( 75 Cenea for 6 Months I 40 Cts.for 3 months. AN INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPER. JJT uil NCE. J Vol. VIII. Now Bloomfleld, Tn,., Tuesday, Lpril 14, 1874. TNo. IS. mw Ijloomfirlfc rmfs. 18 PUBLISH BD XVKRT TUESDAY MORNING, BI FRANE MOETIMES & CO., At New Bloomfleld, Terry Co., Ta. Being provided with Bteam Power, and large Cylinder and Job-Presses, we are prepared to do all kinds of Job-Printing In good style and at Low Prices. ADVERTISING BATES: TramUnt 8 Cents porllno for one Insertion 19 two Insertions 15 ' " three insertions Business Notices In Local Column 10 Cents per line. uFor longer yearly adv'ts terms will be given upon application. OLD EYE'S SrEECH. I was made to be eaten And not to be drank ; To be thrashed In a barn, Mot soaked In a tank. I come as a blessing, When put through the mill ; As a blight and a curse When run through a still. Make me up into loaves, And your children are fed ; But If Into drink, I will starve them instead. In bread I'm a servant The eater shall rule ; In drink, I am master, The drinker a fool. Then remember a warning : My strength I'll employ, If eaten to strengthen ; If drank, to destroy. For th Wonmneld Time. AN ADVENTURE AT SEA. IN the summer of 1830 the "Vulcan," under the command of Capt. Isaac Johnson, was on lier homeward-bound passage from the Indies, with half a cargo of tea, and she stopped at Cape Negro, on the coast of Benguela, after a lot of ivory, to make up her load. Having gone on shore, at the Cape, the captain learned from the native contractor that he would have to go some ilfteon miles up the Can nibal's river, as tlio elephant hunters bad all the boats further up in the country, so that consequently they had not been ena bled to bring the ivory down. Capt. Johnson was somewhat disappoint ed at this cause of delay, but without wait ing to find useless fanlt he determined to man bis own boats, and proceed at once up the river. It required four trips to bring all the ivory down, but as they -bad opportunity to take advantage of the slight tides, the task was accomplished in four days. On the last trip the captain went himself, leaving the first mate in charge of the ship, and on arriving at the small vil lage where the Ivory was stored, he was not a little surprised to find that nearly all the miserable huts were deserted. Sever al times Capt. Johnson inquired tho mean- ing of this, but the natives weie either un able, or unwilling to give any plain answer, and it was not until the last lot of tusks bad been conveyed to the boats, and the natives bad been remunerated for their labor, that the least clue could be obtained to the cause of this strange desertion, and then, for the first time, the captain recoiv ed the startling intelligence that the cholera wat tweeping doun the riter I As soon as this fact became known to the seamen, they wildly huddled into their boats, as though the fearful death-angel was at their heels, and silently, yet with powerful strokes, they pulled down the fatal stream. At length they reacted their ship, and though they breathed somewhat more freely as they trod their own deck, yet each countenanco bore the stamp of deep fear. The ivory was soon got on board, and with all baste the old Vulcan was got under way. It was nearly night when the ship got oil', and with A good breeze from the northward and eastward, ' she stood well on ber course. On the next morning, shortly after breakfast, and while the crew had begun to think that they bad no occasion for further fear, a young man, named Walter Addison, was taken suddenly sick. Young Addison was the favorite, both of the officers and the crew, and as it was re ported that be was thus ill, a general con sternation seized upon all bauds. The young man felt at first a giddiness and a sickly chill, and in the course of two hour be sank into an alarming debility, the countenance assuming a deadly paleness, and his skin bearing all the appearance of a corpse. Poor Addison suffered till noon, and then the startling announcement went through the ship that be was dead ! This was the first, but who should be the next ! A panio had seized upon the men the cholera was with them, and none dared remove the form of their doad shipmate from bis berth. Night approached,' and with it came an almost dead calm, but the corpse still remained in the forecastle, nor did the men 'dare go thither. The captain urged that the longer presence of the body would breed more dangerous contagion, but the only answer he received was a mournful shake of the beads about biro. At length, finding that all argumente were useless, be turned to bis mate and asked him if he would assist himself in throwing the body of the dead man overboard. Tho mate, at first, hesitated, but in a moment he signified his consent, and together him self and captain, wont down into the fore castle. They dared not remain long enough with the corpse to sew it up, nor even to attach to it a sinking weight, but throwing over it a single blanket, they managed to get it upon dock and lay it across the bulwarks of the starboard bow. A moment Captain Johnson hesitated he opened his lips, breathed a prayer for the soul of the departed, and then, while a shuddor ran over bis frame, be lot the cold form of young Walter Addison slide into the blue water I Instinctively he cast his eyes over the side as the deed was done, and by the palo phosphorescent light be could just See the corpse sink, then rise and Bink again, and then with a heavy step and a still heavier heart, he walked aft. The first watch had been set, but the other watch dared not go below, and hud dling themelsves beneath the long-boat, they sought the repose which they feared to seek whore their companion had died ; but each seemed to fear bis neighbor, for none knew whore tho contagion might be. At eleven o'clock the slight breathings of the air, which seemed for the last few hours to have had no settled point, began to gather more force from the northward and westward, and ere long a good frosh breeze filled the ship's canvass, and started through the water. The wind continued to increase, and before midnight all hands were called to take in the top-gnllautaails. At twelve o'clock the mid watch was set, and all bands were, for a few moments, brought in contact with each other. No further symptoms of the dreaded pestilence had appeared, and they began to take hope. It was half-past twelve o'clock. An old seaman, named Bill 6hippen,had the helm, while the remainder of the watch wore either in the gangway or else forward. The wind continued fresb, but yet steady, and the old ship was close hauled upon it, laying some two points off from her true course. The ship's bell was suspended over the binnacle, and old Bhlppon reached over aud struck the first half hour after midnight. He had just resumed his posi tion, and was gazing intently at the com pass, when bo felt a band laid upon bis shoulder,and on turning around, be beheld, by the struggling beams ot the binnacle lamp, the palo, deathly features of Walter Additon For an instant tho old sailor remained rooted to the spot, and then, uttering a sharp cry of foar, he let go the wheel and darted forward. In a moment the ship be gan to fall off, and as she brought the flat surface of canvass to the wind, she heeled ovor alarmingly ) but soon the pale spectre that had frightened the helmsman from his post, caught the wheel, and laid the helm hard down, and ere long the ship was once more to the wind.' ' ''!,' ' Buippon's cry had started all hands from their listlessness, for they thought the cholera-fiend bad assailed him, but from his broken ejaculations they soon learned what was the matter, and in a body tbey crowd ed aft, and, by the dim light from the bin nacle, they saw the ipeetri htlmtman Every knee trembled, and every tongue clove to the roof of its mouth. None dared to approach blm, nor did any move baok, At this Juncture the captain came on deck, His eye caught the corpse-like form that still held the wheel, and he, too, was rivet ed to the spot where he stood. " Shipmates, relieve me from here or I shall faint. I am cold and weak 1" at length oame from the lips of the teeming spectre, in faint, agonized tones. Capt Johnson hesitated an instant, and then he rushed forward, and laid hit band upon the trembling form before him. It was cold and wet, but he knew that it was a living man I One after another of the men gathered about, and ere long all knew that young Walter Addison still lived I The captain bad him conveyed to the cab in, where everything that could be thought of was administered for his comfort, and it was not long ere he sufficiently revived to give an account of his strange escape from the cold deep grave to which he had been consigned. It Beomed that young Addison had fallen into that death-like lethargy which not un frequently results from sudden cholera, and which, as all who are acquainted with the disease must bo aware, so nearly re sembles death, that even the best physi cians have been deceived by it. . The sud den immersion in the cold water bad re vived his dormant senses, and as the ship bad but a slight motion at the time, bo came to a partial realization of his situa tion ere she had passed him, and by con siderable exertion he managed to get hold of tho rudder-chains. He tried to call for assistance, but his tongue was so swollen that be found it impossible, and after re maining upon the chains long enough to gain more strength, he worked his way up till he got hold of the lanyards of the cabin dead-lights. From thence he reached the lashings of the stern-boat, but here weak ness again overpowered him, and after working his way into the boat he remained some time insensible, but at length he re vived and came on board. He bad tried to speak, but he could not. When the helms man fled from the wheel, bo had souse enough to see the ship's danger, and from the impulse of a sort of instinct, he seized the wbdcl and brought her up to the wind. The morning dawned, and the next day passed then another, and another, but the death-fiend came not again I He bad lost his first intendod victim, and be loft the ship in peace. A Town with a Strange History. IN the heart of a forest of stunted trees in Burlington county, New Jersey, eighteen smoke-blackened chimneys stand ing as head stones over the ashes of as many once happy homes, tell the sad Btory of the utter desolation of a prosperous vil lage of a hundred years ago. Batsto stood at the head of Little Egg Harbor, on Mul ling River. . It clustered about a romantic crystal lake that takes an oval shape in the fringing foliage, and mirrors a sky of blue in a frame of green. The Quakers settled round it, and one of their number built an iron furnace on the brink of its outlet, at which were mode the cannon used in the Revolutionary war. Working for Quaker Ball, tho owner of the foundry, was a young Welshman, William Richards. At the Quaker's death he suoceeded him, aud added to the little village wealth. He paid the passage of emigrants and made them his retainers. On the knoll above . tho lake stands the stone mansion be built. It is 40x50 feet, with two story wings. , Young Richards had inherited his fath er's love of power, and be ruled Batsto as a priucipality. From the old mausion, which was then known as it is to-day as the Big House, he could look down over the towu aud watch tho inhabitants at their work or in their sport. He extended his power, and bought up 80,000 acres of land, including what - is now Atlantic county, and embracing what are now the villages of Uainmondtou, Ell wood, and Egg Harbor oity. He built dwellings along the four streets of Batsto, imported work men, built two sawmills, two glass factories one pottery, a three-story stone grist mill, dug a canal two milos long to Little Egg Harbor, built sevoral scows, andput two schooners in the coasting trade. The woods were cleared by choppers, and the wood oorded around the gloss factories. Ten large buildings were filled with busy men melting, baking and cutting window gloss. Between five hundred and a thousand men found employment, -aud there was not an idle hand in Batsto, With the magnificent water power, made by the full of the water from the lake, with the forest of pine, oak and cedar, with the rich vineyards that wore growing about the village, all who pswed that way pre dicted a flourishing oity. . Jesse Riohards turned bis own mill with the water power, and dealt the flour to his workmen from bis own store. He tawed the timber and built the house for hit tenants, and gave them their rent. He pressed the juice from the rich grapes and stored them in hit own wine cellar. No other store was allowed in that region but bis, and no houses were built but with his consent. The retainers of the Big House were fed from the store and superintended by the master. Tho saw-mills, the glass factories and the foundry made strange musio in the wilds of New Jersey. In the pottery a pair of whoels weighing 8,500 pounds crushed through the sandy clay and added to the chorus of noises in the iudustrious place. In 1820 the foundry furnace was again re built, and the date is inscribed on the old iron plate. By 1840 ten iron furnaces were busy in New Jersey, but the discovery of coal and iron ore together in other States soon dealt them a heavy blow. The prosperity of Jesse Richards made him the proudest, as he was the wealthiest man in the State. He looked upon the fires as they glowed in his furnaces with a princely pride. He re viewed his tenants as they collected in his store for provisions with a lordly satisfac tion. His wine mellowed as it grow old in bis cellar, and in the smiles of bis good for tune ho drank his liquor in joy. In 1848 the furnaces was so unprofitable that he allowed tho fires to die out and they were never relighted. This check to the growth of his wealth pained him. In 1854 he died, seventy-two years old, with three sons and three daughters to enjoy bis enormous fortune. ., As William Richards bad loft as a legacy to his sons a love of thrift and power, Jesse Rictiards left to his sons a love of strong drink. Thomas, Samuel and Jesse were executors of the estate, and ordered the factories to be managed in thoir name. The broad acres and thriving village re turned to them a vast revenue. They made Robert Stewart, a faithful secretary of Jesse Richards, thoir manager, and they left Batsto for Philadelphia. They lavish ed their wealth in every possible pleasure and demanded all the profits of their fac tories to supply them ; and finding those scarcely enough, in 1855 sold to Matlock & Allen, clothiers, of Philadelphia, 30,000 acros of their land. This wont as fast as young men of fortune can make money The working men wore loft unpaid. They clamored for their wages. At length thoy threw down their tools, and the fires in the glass furnaces went out, and tho busy vil lage of a half century was idle, and the men mot and talked over the days when up to the Big House, " Widlam" Richards, as their dialect turns tho name, kept every body well fed and paid, and so endeared the mon to him that he had only to ask them and they would fight for him. Tho young mon returned to their homo and started tho wbeols of the factories and mill again, and gave promise of adding to the thrift of the village, but as goon as the factories began to return them more mon ey one after the other went off, until Rob ert Stewart was again compelled to treat with tho clamorous workmen. A few of the old laborers, under Jesse Richards, agreed to work without their wages, for tho sake of the village. Many moved away. The old houses began to crumblo, the old foundry tumbled in, the canal choked up, aud the mill stopped. Ten years ago the fires went out for the last time. The retainers of the Big House chose the best of the dwellings, and chopped wood by the day for enough to buy thoir bread, No rent collector called on them, and as one house grew too old to be inhabited, thoy moved into another. The Big House wag desolate. Seven years ago the post-ofiice was taken away from the village and given to Ploas ant Mills, a smaller place in Atlantio coun ty. . The old store at the Big House was exhausted, and there was no money in the town to restock it, aud no money' to pat ronize it if; restocked. The carpenter, the joiner, the shoe-maker, the , black-smith deserted their shops, and the doors stood wide open, but nobody entered at them. The mill race burst, and the splash of the fulling water night and day re-echoes as it did before Quaker Ball discovered its water power. , The middle-aged men moved away, aud the old r.ion and women clung to the ruins. At the years weakoned the timbers in the houses, they gathered in the strongest of them, and where one house would accommodate two families tbey lived together. Tbey kept a cow or two among them, and raised pigs, chickens and vegetable. The little returns from the wood-choppers bought bread and leant clothing. A few days ago a spark from the chimney of Robert Stewart's bouse burned bit own dwelling., A strong sweep lug wind oarried the fire before it, and in two hours the best dwellings in Bats to were in ashes. The Pearl Fishery. THE month of February commences the season for pearl-fishing which ends with the month of May ; but the fast days oome so often in the Hindoo calondar, really exceeding in number the working days, i that the business is in fact not carried on in earnest more than a month. Each fish ing-boat carries a crew of twenty men, half divers and half sailors, beside the master and pilot. They start at ten o'clock in the 'evening ; and, borne along by the night breeze, reach the banks before dawn. About midday they return to port, at the hour when the sea-breeze changes its di rection and blows toward the land. At the appearance of daylight the divers com mence their labors, being divided into two parties which alternately dive and rest. In diving, the one about to descend be neath the water grasps with the toes of his right foot a rope which has attached to it at one extremity a large pyramid-shaped stone, the use of which is to render the de scent easier, and to keep the pearl-fisher at the bottom. It is moored, as one might say, to the boat by the rope which also enables the diver to hold communication with his comrades above him. He dives" either standing or crouching, but never hood foremost, as has been supposed. With bis loft foot be holds his net, with his right band tho stone-weighted cord ; with his left hand be pinches his nostrils ; his ears are stopped up with cotton soaked. When be arrives at the bottom he rapidlyr picks off all the oysters within bis reach,, fills the net or bag which hangs about his neck, and at a certain signal is drawn up -again by his companions. The greatest -depth at which a diver can work does not exceed eight or nine fathoms, and he can not remain under water longer than half a minute. Those wonderful tales which represent certain divers as remaining a minute, or even several minutes, under an enormous mass of water, whose pressure is more than twice as much as that of the atmosphere, are merely the result of the imagination, since there does not exist, and never has existed, any man capable of so extraordinary a feat. When the weather will permit a skillful diver will make as many as fifteen or twonty descents in a morning, separated by intervals of rest of from ten to fifteen minutes. If circum stances are unfavorable he will not dive more than four or five times. This exerciso, repeated thirty days each year, soon tolls upon the health of the un fortunate people who pursue it, and a diver seldom grows old. Many of them contract at an early age a frightful disease which soon makes the exercise of thoir danger ous profession impossible. The sight grows weaks, the eyes become ulcerated, and the whole body is covered with sores. Others are sometimes stricken with apo plexy on leaving the wator, or die of suffo cation at the bottom of the sea. Thore is yet another peril to which the diver is exposed, more dreaded, perhaps, than any other ; the shark is the terror of the pearl-fishers, and if the word is given, true or falso, that one of these cicantio nd terrible fish is in their midBt, it is suf ficient to disperse even an entire flotilla, and drive every boat into port without so much as an attempt to ascertain the truth of the alarm. From these few crude details some idea of the trials and dangers to which the pearl.fisher is exposed may be gained. With so much, peril to both life and limb are those pure gems secured which are destined to be woven amid the glossy and luxuriant tresses of a young beauty, or to render the snowy whiteness of her fair neck yet more notioeablo. Little does she think, as she clasps the exquisite orna ments with delight, of the poor Hindoo fisherman who perhaps gave bis life as a sacrifice to gain the lucent gems that form such a fit adornmont for ber own youthful purity. As little does she realize it, as that the costly lace which she views with somuoh complacency was wearily woven by women in life-destroying dark cellars. IW A termonizer made these remarks on the following soul-saving question : ' My brethren, a man oannot afford to lose his soul. He's got but one, and he can't get another. If a man loses bis horse ho can get another ; if be loses bis wife he can get another ; if he loses his child he can get another ; but if he loses bis soul good-by, John." IW Jack Pendergast was fined ten dol. Ian by a Chicago justice for an assault, the alternative being ten days in jail. To get the money to pay the fine be picked the pocket of a lawyer in oourt j but when he fumbled in the pocket-book for the right sized bill, the lawyer recognized hit own, and Jack will go to the Btate prison for many years.