HE DANBURY REPORTER. VOLUME 111. ! ! THIS REPORTER. r. iur j'l ai »,;• ii PUBLISHED,, WEEKLY BY PEPPER & SONS, PtOFBlKTO«8. BATES OF SUBSCRIPTION. One Year, payable in advance, - $« 0 81* MoDths, - - - 100 RATES OF ADVERTISING. One Square (ten lines or less) 1 time, $1 00 Ffcr each additional.insertion, - 50 Contracts for longer time or more space can be made in proportion to ttif above rates. JTranalent advertisers will be expected to ramit according to these rates at the time they —■end their favors. ® Local Notices will bo charged 50 per cent, higher than above ra'es. 1 Business Cards will be inserted at Ten Dol lar* per annum. J, w. RANDOLPH Si ENGLIB «, BOOKSELLERS, STATIONERS, AND BLANK-BOOK MANUFACTERERB. 1318 Mainftreet, Richmond. A Large Stock of LA if HOOKS always on nol-6m hand. O. P. DAY, ALBERT JONES. DAY & JONES, Manufacturers of SADDLERY, HARNESS, COLLARS, TRUNKS, jx. No. 336 W. Baltimore street, Baltimore, Md. nol-ly W: A. TTJCKKR, H. O. SMITH 8. B. SPRAOISS. TUCKER, 8311111 & CO., Manufacturers and Wholesale Dealers in BOOTS; SHOES; HATS AND CAPS. 250 Baltimore street Baltimore, Md. 01-ly. WILUAM UKVKIKS, WILLIAM K. OKVRIES, CHRISTIAN DKV'IUKS, Ot S., SOLOMON KIMMKI.L. WILLIAM DEVKIES & CO., Importers and Jobbers of Foreign and Domestic Dry Gopds aud Notions, f kit West Raltimore Street,(between Howard and Liberty,) BALTIMORE. B. F. KING WITH JOHNSON, SUTTON & 00., DRY GOODS. Nog. 326 and 328 Baltimore street; N. E. cor ner Howard, BALTIMORE MP. T. W JOHNSON, R. M. SUTTON, J. K R. CHABBE, 0. J. JOHNSON nol-ly. JNO. W. HOLLAND with T. A. BPiI'AN k CO,, annfucturers of PKEN'CIT und AMKRICAN CAN DIBS, in every variety, and wholesale dealers in FRUITS, NUTS, CANNED GOODS, CI GARS, .J-c. 339 and 341 Baltimore Street, Baltimore, Md. Orders from Merchants solicited. "S® ELIIIRT, HITZ Si "0., mporters and Wholesale Dealers in NOTIONS, HOSIERY; GLOVES; WHITE , AND fANCY GOODS No. 5 Hanover street; Baltimore, Md. 46-ly H U. MARTINDALE, with WM. J C. DULANY & CO. titationers' and Booksellers' Hare house. SCHOOL BOOKS A SPECIALTY. Stationery of all kinds. Wrapping Paper, Twines, Bonnet Boards, Paper Blinds 332 W.BALTIMORKST., BALTIMORE, Ml). M. S. ROBERTSON, WITH Watkins & Cottrcll, Impoiters and Jobbers of HARDWARE, CUTLERY, SADDLERY GOODS, BOLTING CLOTH, GUM PACKING ANI> BELTING, 1307 Main Streot, Richmond, Va B. M. WILSON, of N. C., with R. W. POWERS & CO., WHOLESALE DRUGGISTS, •nd dealers in Paints, Oils, Dyes, Varnishes, French Window Glas», Ac., Ko. 1305 Main St., Richmond, Va. Proprietors Aromatic Peruvian Bitters J- Com pound Syrup Tolu and Wild Cherry. ' B7 J. k R. E. BEST, WITD henry SONNEBORN k ro., WHOLFSALK CLOTHIERS. 20 Hanover Street, (between German and Lombard Streets,) BALTIMORE, MD. H. 80NNEB0N , BLIMLINE. ■i 47-ly WILSON, BURNS Sl CO., WHOLESALE GROCItRS AND COMMIS SION MERCHANTS. , So S Howard street, corner of Lombard; BALTIMORE. We keep constantly on hand a large and welt-assorted stock of Groceries—suitable tor Southern and Western tndc. We solicit con signments of Country Produce—such as Cot tott; Feathers; Ginseng; Beeswax; Wool; Dried fruit; furs; Skins, etc. Our facilities for do ing busineware such as to warrant quick sales Mini prompt returns. All orders will haveonr prompt attention. 43-ly. fiRAVES'B WAREHOUSE, (' ' DANVILLB. VA., -. i For the Sale of Leaf Tobacco. OUR ACCOMMODATIONS are unsurpass ed Business promptly and accurately transacted. ' Guarantee the iihihicst market price -Tf W. P. QIiAVES March »r — tT _ liAUOHHKIMEH, MAMN & CO., •" ' Wholesale Clothlrrs* No. 311 West Baltimore street, ' BALTIMORE, MP. June 19—6 m DANBU lit A BALIOOfI W.TU A M.NIAC. BT W. A. PETERS. While r was prepaiing my great bal loon, '-The Ooi ideat," in San Franciseoi iu 1872, for a voyage to New York, I boarded in a private I ouse with rooms aljoining those of a uiiddle-aaed man, ono of the "Argonauts" of '49, who, af ter the wave had receded, was left upon the barren beach, and like a sea-shell •inking the song of its ocean Iv me ) would he, in melancholy voice, with ca dence of the past, tell the tales of the wines, and of his fabulous wealth which oame as if by the rubbing of Aladdin's lamp, and went as suddenly, when "new lamps were exchanged for old," at the g'iuiing table. His history was a strange admixture of foitune and vicissitude, with swectuess in tho cups and bitter ness in the dregs; sorrows that chased ,his pleasures around the sharp corners of life; fears that held a check rein on his hopes, and fierce passions that drove the rowels deep. But the saddest chap ter of his life was this: He had struck a rich vein, and his fortune was made; tho hopo of his life was realized, and with that buoyant, life-bounding, palsing shout of '"home again !" he hastened to San Francisco to embark for home, and wife aud every thing that made life dear in Now York, the home of his youth and marriage When he reached San Francisco he found a letter awaiting him, tho hand writing was his wife's Ah! how ea gerly he tore it open to devour the con tents of sweet and loving words; those tender sentiment* that only a wife can write; those significant sentences that Only a husband can understand, which make luminous in the soul the unwritten things of the inner temple that glitter like golden characters upon the heart. Glorious anticipation was on his face. He read the letter. Maik the change! He sprang up like a madman ; his face grew black as a thunder cloud; he choked for utterance, and then strove to choke the black oaths down 08, through the hours of that long night, he paced the floor of the dingy hotel room. He toro the letter in pieces, then gathered it carefully up and put it to aether as if to retain it for evidence. That letter contained a deliberate state ment from hia wile that she had proven false to him, that long she had loved an other, that she hid sailed with him for Europe, and that, ere the letter reached him, she'd be basking in her lover's smile beneath the voluptuous sky of Italy. She calmly urged her husband to forget her, as she would try to forget him in the delicious joy of her new love. And this was all of the past to him ; the sweet smiles, the loving glances, the gentlo tones, the fond caress, were to him as apples of Sodom, turned to ashes, or as gems upon the bosom, that were turned to lifeless stone. Tte serpent had glided into his Eden, and he went forth among the thorns and the bram bles. JVbat cared he for the fortune now he had toiled so hard to make for her Well, he did as others have done ; he went to the bar and the gaming ta ble; and just as the old grave digger gathered the villagers in, so did the gamblers gather in his thousands, and then he went back to (he mines as hope less and reckless as an outcast. Fortune never suiiled upon him any more, and if she had, he, would have turned his back upon her, and taken up a poor olaim ; he seemed to seek poverty as earnestly as others sought wealth, and with the smallest results he seemed the beat pleased. His grief was too deep to be broken in upon ; it was a scaled book, but its contents had been surmised by many. Ooe by one the '4D's disappeared; still he clung to the deserted bill sides, and then the very intensity of the deso lation drove him off too, and he returned to San Francisco, where ho became a book-keeper in a gloomy old warehouse, in which he was still employed when we met. This was the man with whom I was to hive the most fearful adventure of my life; the man with whom I was to con tend in awful and deadly desperation, either to save both lives or to destroy his, while his maddened, energies were pat forth with the deaionism of a ma niao to destroy both in the rooH horrible death. Contend for the virtues of the most celebrated hair dyes and praise ihem as you will, but a few moments of RY, N. C., THURSDAY, JANUARY imens:fi,d excitement and fear changed uiy glossy black hair to the untimely Silver of ago, without any renewal of tho application. We became warui friends in the boarding house, and he took a lively in' terest in matters ol my profession ; in fact, 1 found him so scientific in his the ories of ballooning that 1 opened up all my plans to him, exhibited my models, and took him with me each day to note the progress of completion on my aerial ship. lie was anxious to ascend with me and take the trip East, as he laugh ingly remarked, that it was about the only passage he was able to afford, and that he wnu'd be literally a steerage pas senger, if I would allow him to handle the rudder occasionally byway of relief. I assured him that I would be glad of his company and of his scienlifio assist ance ; thus it was arranged that he was to accompany me. We had many pleasant conversations after we had entered into this confiden tial arrangement, and he told me of his great grief and estrangement from all that had ever made life sweet to him ; but, when I told him I had formerly been a resident of New York and knew many of the parties he had spoken of, he seemed to regret that he had un folded so much to me of the things that had been sacredly hidden, and after that he appeared mc re distant; but I thought nothing of the change, merely attribu ting it to the revival of unhappy memo ries. When the day for our departure was ushered in with balmy air atd glo rious sunshine, he seemed in fine and unusual spirits, which the exhilarating anticipations of the upper air would nat urally give one who was as fearles9 of the voyage as ho appeared. All things were ready—my huge ship of the air, "Occident," swung gracefully as a thing of life to her mooring, and was as trim and beautiful as a blushing woman waiting for her lover; expectant thousands stood waiting tor the men to cut the lines that moored my impatient beauty down. I shall never forget the shouts, the clapping of hands, the wav ing of handkerchiefs, and the God speed we received as we shot away like an ar row into the upper blue. I need not write of the grandeur of the scene—it cannot be described by one who has witnessed it, it cannot be under stood by One who has flot; its effect was like intoxication upon my companion; it seemed as if his joys that had been held captive to grief had been set free like a bird from its cage. His eyes shone with an unusual brilliancy, bis conversation sparkled with gems of wis dom and wit, and his mind seemed trans cendental; but when we reached the higher latitudes of rarified air, a change came over him, and the inward pressure updn his brain seemed having a strange effect. The mirthful light of his eyes gave way to a ferocious glare, and his mnsical sentences were changed to words of hate and revenge, directed to some one he appeared to see in the air. Sud denly he sprang forward upon me with such force as to almost overturn the car of the balloon, and, brandishing a huge knife over me, I fully realized that I had to deal with insanity in its worst mood- He imagined that I was the destroyer of his happiness, the lover of his wife; and I then realized that his knowledgeof my former residence in New York hsd' shaped this idea in bis fevered brain. It wai a fearful moment ? How was L to act ? "Ah, base demon, fiend (roui Hades !*' he exclaimed. "Thou I'luW to my Pro serpine, I've met thee.in mid air at last where you've spread your blaok wings in this hallowed atmosphere and polluted the presence of the gods with thy foul blot on nature. Hack to the heads of Cerebus I'll send you, and may they in flict apoo you the eternal borrors of in fernal hydrophobia 1" I was helpless in bis grasp ; I saw that he was preparing to plunge the knife into my throat, and that hasty action alono eould save me. "See Jupiter approaching !*' I ex claimed, pointing upward with my hand He hastily looked up, and tor one mo ment paused in the downward stroke of the knife. In awful desperation I grasp ed his arm, and then the struggle began, [lis power seemed superhuman, and bid fair to overmatch me in a few moments of fierce struggle; then 1 knew I would either be lifted in his arms and thrown cut of the car, or he would plunge the sharp dagger into uiy quivering fl ah 1 roused to final desperation before despair, fold the struggle was fearful, as wo swayed the Irail car until bidding fair to overturn us both in a swifi and awful de scent to the earth. He overpowered me and crUshtd uie down beneath him, his band upon my throat. He raided the knife to, strike the fatal blow, and dark ness came over uie, when, fortunately, I grasped a bar of iron which my hand had touthed As quick almost as light ning, in the fearful emergency, I struck h ill a blow which knocked him back wards This saved ine f'»r tho present, for I brandished the bir with such des P*s3ft*tyir{t, that even in his madness, he denied caution tl.o belter pait ol valo^:'''G^ , I tlifn tried to reasin him into a real izatioo of our situation, and of I is dan ger as well as mine ; and when he could again realize that we were in a balloon, n devilish idea ol d struction enters 1 hia brain, lie climbed up the ropes to the silk with the activity and feurlessuess tf a monkey, ar.d said he wouid have a glorious reveoge ob me. He would rip open the balloon and die with me, just to witness my tortures in the other world, for the blight I had put upon his life. I now saw that the situation was aw ful indeed, as I iustantly contemplated the crashing fall of 5,000 feet. Not a moment was to be lost. Iliad the fac ulty oT quick conception and action On the instant I thought of a lasso which I had iu the car firuily attached) and in the use of which I had become expert on the plains. I grasped it up and threw it into coil, and, just as his knife struck the first rent into the silk, I threw tho lariet with desperate skill, and with a fearful jerk I dragged him from his hold on the ropes. With a shriek of despair he shot by the car at a terrible speed There was a twang of the intensely strong lasso, a heavy jerk upon the balloon, a strain and quiver in every cord, and I was saved at an awlul fCOst—the life of a human being, and that ..one formerly my most confiding frhpV. •> For the first time I looked over the aid* of the car and a horrible sight greeted me. There was hid ghastly head swinging in the lasso, severed from the body by the great f. rce of the fall, while the body had crished away into the earth 5,000 feet below. I should have fainted at the sight in that high latitude, had I not have been reoalled to a danger that would have made my fate as certain as his. The gas had escaped from tbe out in the balloon utitil I was descend ing with a fearful velocity, that would have dashed me in pieces. 1 sprang to tbe sand bags and throw tbem over, cot waiting to cut them, and a piayer es caped my lips that no one might be un der them. This arrested the swift de scent so that I came down in safety, although swifter than I bad ever done before. I landed in a little frontier town, and the scene was so ludicrous that I almost forgot the sad and fatal experi enoe I had just gone through. The people had seen the sand bags fall »nd thought it was the judgment day; uiy balloon they mistook for the angel Ga briel, and I never saw such fpeedy de sertion of a town before in my life. Wagons rattled over the roads at a fear ful dri"e ; horses dualled by them like the wind, with great, swaggering despe radoes on them, white with fear, and teeth rattling like bear.s in a gourd Others disappeared through the cwn fielda, while those who were too badly scared to run, prayed, sang, cried, and did almost every thing. When (hey realized what it was, they hung their heads, as full of shame as sobool boys caught kissing their sweet hearts, and those who had rushed on tbe roads came dodging io from day to day for a week afterward. The whole town turned out with me to search for the body of my unfortuo ate companion. After several days we found it, buried almost out of sight in the earth, with the limbs driven up into tho body by the fearful force of tbe fall. We buried the body with the head, and then bidding'adieu to tbe little town, I etaited on uiy weary and mournful jour ney back to San Francisco with my bal loon packed oo an oz oart. That was my last voyage In the air. I returned to New York ; and I bave consented to make a voyage across the ocean, but I'll either go alone or have a sufficient num ber along to tame care of the lunaiii* 23, 1879. "Cen Ye Forgive a Feller." One day, thiee or four weeks ago, a gamin, who seemed to have no fitends to the world, was run over by a vehicle on Madison Avenue, and fatally injured.— After he had been in the hospital for a week, a boy about hia own size, and look ing as friendless and forlorn, called to ask about him and leave an orange, lie seemed much cmbairassed and would answer no questions. Alter that he came d.iily, always bringing something, if no more than an apple. Last week, when the nurse told him that Billy had no banee to get well, the strange boy wait ed around longer than usual, and finally it he could go in. He bad been invite 1 many times before, but had al ways refused. Jiilly, pale and weak and emaciated, opened his eyes in wonder at the sight of tho boy, and before he real ized who it was, the stranger bent close to h;s luce, and sobbed : "Billy, can ye forgive a feller? We was alius lighting, and I alius too much for ye; but I'm sorry ! 'Fore ye die wou't ye tell me ye have n't any grudge agin mo ?" The young lad, then almost in the shadow of death, reached up his thin, white arms, clasped them around the other's neck, and replied— "Don't cry, Rob. Don't feel bad. I was ugly and mean, and I was heaving a stone at ye when the wagon hit me. If ye'll forgive me, I'll forgive you; and I'll pray fir both of U9." pub was half an hour late tho morn ing Hilly died. When the nurse took him to the shrouded corpse he kissed the pale face tenderly, aud gasped— "D—did ho say anything about— about me ?" "lie spoke of you before lie died— asked if you were here," replied the nurse. "And may I go—go to the funeral ?" "You may 1" And he did go. He was the only monrner. His heart was the only one that ached. No tears were shed by ot hers, and they left liim sitting by the nfw mnie grave, tfo big that he could not speak.— lndependent. Correct Speaking. We would advise all young people to acquire in early life the habit of correct speaking and writing, and to abandon as early as possible any use of slang words and phrases. The longer you live, the more difficult tho acquirement of correct language will be ; and if the golden age of youth, the proper season for the ac quisition of language—be passed in its abuse, the unfortunate victim, if neglect ed, is very properly doomed to talk slang for life. Money is not necessary to pro cure this education. Every man has it in hia power. He has merely to nsc toe language which he reads instead of the slang whieli ho hears, and to form his taste from the best speakers and poets in the country, to treasure up ehoice phrases in his memory and habituate himself to their use, avoiding at the same time that pedantic precision aud bombast which show that weakness of vain am bition rather than the polish of an edu cated mind, How Gen. Gordon Convinced Him self He was Alive. At length a fifth ball struck Gordon full in the face, and, entering his cheek, knocked him senseless. He fell, and for some time his prostrate form wis wrap ped in the smoke of hattle. We hear from Gen. Gordon's own lips a story that, in a metaphysical point, is exceed ingly interesting. lie says that when he fell he was utterly incapable of moving Fie gradually began to think of his con dition, and this is the half dream half soliloquy that be carried on : "I have been 'struck in the head with a six-pound solid shot; it has carried awuy uiy bead. On the left sidi there is a little piece of skull left, but the brain is entirely gone And yet lam thinking. How can a man think with his head shot off? And if I am thinking I cannot be dead. And yet uo man can live after his head is shot off I uiay have my consciousness while dead but not motion. If I can lift uiy leg, then lam alive. I will try that. Can I ? j Yc«, there it is ; lifted up. I'm all riifht " The General that every SiHge of this soliloquy is indelibly stamp ed on his mind, aud that in his exhaus ted stale the reasoning was carried on as logically as ever man roasoued at his NUMBER 33. d;:tk. Doubt succeeded argument a d argument displaced doubt just as logi cally as could bo. lie aays he never will forget with what auxiety he made the tost of lifting his leg—with what agony i ho waited to see whether or not it would move in rest) MIKO to his effort, and how he hesitated before trying it for fear it I might fail and his dath be thereby demonstrated— Atlanta (ffci) t'onsti. tution A Heroic Convict. In Memphis, when the fever's deadly breath (irst smote the city, a man, a I stranger, offered his services as a nurse i They were ncoepted, and be began his duties in the hospitul. lie was skillful, attentive, and unremitting in his cira of the sufferers. It turned out later that j this man had hut recently been released from prison, where be bad served*out a I sentence of ten years. Some of the i physicians, upon lonrui .-jg this part of j his history, regarded hiui a iittle suspi ciously, and hinted that his attention to | the kick was not without a questionable motive. Tl:cy watched hiui sharply. ! Finally, from the funds sent by the North, he was paid for a nionth't service It was enough to have taken him out of the fever stricken country, had he chosen Ito go He was seen to go out of the hospital on the day he received the money, and a colored policeman followed | him. lie hurried along the streets until 'he came to the post-office There was a bi>x in which to deposit contributions to | the fever fund. The ex convict dropped | in every dollar he had received for the | month, and then returned to his post at ! the hospital. Two or three days later he w.-.s missed from his accustomed place, | and it was not until the next week that : bis body was found with that of an old negro, in a miserable shanty. He had I gone to nurse this negro who had been left to die alone, and so met his fate, be i ing himsef stricken with the fever. There was none to offer as much as a cup of cold water to him who had ten derly cared for more than a hundred of | the fever's victims. This man had spent ! ten years behind prison bars. Hiscrime lis not toid. Perhaps/bo was a thief, j perhaps a forger, possibly a murderer. | 15ut however black his blots upon life'# page, let it be said that his death wiped I them out. If living he trod only the paths of sin, bis death at least was di ; vine—for he died for others. Change of Life. Change is the common feature of so* ciety—of life. Ten years convert the population of I schools into men and women, the youog | into fathers and matrous, make and ! marry fortunes, and bury the last gene- I ration but one. Twenty years convert infants into lovers, fathers and mothers, decide men's fortunes and distinctions, convert active men and women into crawling drivelers, and bury all preceding generations. Thirty years raise an active genera tion from nonentity, change fascinating buties into bearable old women, convert lovers into grandparents, aud bury the active generation or reduco them to de crepitude or imbecility. Forty years, alas 1 change the faoe of I all society. Infants ave growing old, | the bloom of youth and beauty has passed away, two active generations have been swept from tbe stage of life, names onco cherished are forgotten, unsuspeo ted candidates for fame have started up from the exhaustless womb of nature. And in fifty years—mature, ripe fifty yaars—half a century—what tremen dous changes occur! Mow time writes her sublime wrinkles everywhere, in rock, river, forest, and cities, hamlets, villages, in the nature of men, aud the destinies and aspects of all civilized so- oiety 1 Let us piss on to eighty years— and what do we desire to see to comfort us in the world? Our parents are gone; our children have parsed away from us into all parts of the world, to fight th« grim and desperate battle of life. Our o'd friends—where are they T Wo be hold a w'irM of which we know nothing and to which wo mo unknown. We weep fur generations long gone by—for lovers, for parents, (or ofcildren, for friends in the grave. We see every thing turned upsid; down by the fioklo band of fortune, and, the absolute desti> ny of timo. In n word, we behold tit* vanity of life, and are quite ready to laj down the poor burden and he gone.