The daily phoenix. (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, May 09, 1866, Image 4
[Our readers will recognize the following
excellent lines as the production ?of a gifted
lady of this city. They were published in
one of the Columbia papers in IBO?. We
reproduce them by request:]
Shadows on til? Venee.
BY MKS. M. W. STaATTON.
1 cannot write as others do
On high and noble themes.
And yet I have my fancies, too -
My own peculiar dreams;
I can't instruct as others do.
Perchance of Bounder senne,
But I can tell yon something new
Of shadows on the fence.
There is a strip across the way
Of fenciag, dark and old.
And every bright and sunny day
Its value doth unfold.
I Bit within my portico,
And with a look intense,
1 watch the shadows as they go
Along that ancient fence.
Kow, Ibero's a lady gliding by,
Most fashionably drest;
She holds her head up very high -
A feather does the rest;
She looks just like a grenadier,
With plumed chapeau immense*.
Nor ever dreams how very queer
She looks upon the fence.
Now, there's a dandy passinr by.
With rattan quite genteel;
But if around he'd cast an eye,
How "taken down" he'd feel:
A monkey flourishing a stan*.
With gait of high pretense
'Twould make a very stoic laugh,
His shadow on the fence.
And now an cldermauic form
Ie waddling proudly by;
His look portends a coming storm,
There's sterness in his eye;
I think he holds some office here.
Of trust and pow'r immense
But how gigantically queer
He looks upon the fence.
And now a student saunters by.
He's very handsome, too
Mustachiod lip and splendid eye.
Most beautifully blue;
He looks like one by nature blest
With more than common sonso
Yet looks he stranger than the rest
On that sarcastic fence.
' And now a lawyer strides along,
As tho' the world were his -
The ugliest shadow could not wrong
His dreadful ugly phiz.
I think the railroad agent knows
Enough to make pretense.
By which across the street he goes.
And shuns that mocking fence.
Men say that we ha?? little wit,
Yet "dread a woman's tongue;"
They say (but we don't care a bit )
"Tis in the middle hung.
And thus the envious always do
Find purest innocence
And loveliest forms distorted, too,
Like shadows on the fence.
[Original.
A BIDE WITH A MANIAC J
BY ANNABEL LEE.
In the summer of 18- I was pass?
ing a few months at the summer re?
sidence of my friend, Mrs. R-, near
the delightful inland village of G-.
All travelers pronounced it a charm?
ing spot. And in truth, the world
over, you could not find a pleasanter
resort for sultry weather. It ia, more?
over, in sight of the grand old moun?
tains, and the atmosphere must be
pure, for the mountain breeze comes
to you fresh and cool from the Blue
"Ridge. Besides these advantages,
one there enjoys the privilege of as?
sociating with refined aud cultivated
people. Dear old village ! my pen
lingers about your hallowed name
with a lingering, loving touch, for I
look back upon my sojourn amid
your pleasant scenes as one of the* |
brightest spots in life. * How agreea?
bly did the time pass, filled up as it
was with booka, music, gay company,
long walks, stretching far over the I
green fields, and glorious horse-back i
rides and carriage drives mound tho !
village ! What more could the heart ]
desire ? I was light-hearted and j
happy, neither looking with regret to
the past, nor with impatience to the I
future. This must be, I think, the
acme of human happiness on earth.
The summer waued, "the melan?
choly days" were upon us, and my
visit was rapidly approaching its con?
clusion, when I received a letter from
an intimate friend residing in a re?
mote section of country, reminding
me of a long promised visit to her?
self, and imploring me to postpone it
no longer. I decided to be governed
by her wishes, and took immediate
steps to arrange my plans according?
ly. In the first place, it was necessa- j
ry to take the precautionary measure I
of giving my friend timely notice
concerning the day on which I might
be expected to arrive at the station.
"Do not neglect this," she wrote, "as
we live in a very secluded, out-of-the
way place, and A-, the nearest
station, is twenty-three miles dis?
tant." To make assurance doubly
sure, I wrote a fortnight ahead, in
order that my letter might reach its
_ destination in time for a reply, to
" complete the arrangement. This
v 'was a matter which increased in im?
portance as the time for my depart?
ure drew near, and I became con?
vinced it would be necessary for me
to travel without un escort.
. This was not by any means an
agreeable prospect under any circum?
stances; for I have always felt an un
conquerable distaste to traveling
alone, and when I reflected that, in
this instance, I was going into a sec?
tion wholly unknown to mc, where,
iu case of an accident or any unex?
pected turn of affairs, there would not
be a single acquaintance near whose
assistance I could claim, the matter
began to assume a really serious as?
pect. Not a word came in reply to
my lotter up to the very day preoed
^^^^^ ' I
iug tbe one which was to witness my
departure from G--. On the even?
ing of that day, however, a letter ar?
rived, and an eager glance at the su?
perscription was sufficient to produce
an instant feeling of relief. It -was
from my friend. My relief was short?
lived. The letter had been written
l>efore the receipt of mine. Not a
word -was said of the appointed day,
or about sending for me; but more
entreating me to come at once. Her
entreaties -were irresistible, and I de?
termined, without further hesitation,
to leave G-at the appointed time
on the following morning-braving
all consequeuces. What the conse?
quences were will appear in the se?
quel.
?Mrs. R-was much averse to the
whole plan. Like a great many peo?
ple, she had acquired the habit of in?
dulging in strictures, and did not fail
to improve the present favorable oc?
casion. "She did not," she said, "in
the first place, approve of young
girls running over the country with?
out their fathers or brothers, and in
the next, even if I had an escort
which I didn't-it -was, in her opi?
nion, an unwise undertaking to pro?
ceed to A-, where I was a perfeet
stranger, without knowing to a cer?
tainty that my friend would be there
i iu readiness to receive me. And you
a timid, inexperienced creature! Why,
the whole thing is absurd! Take an
old lady's advice, child, and stay
j where you are."
Truly, it was not long before I
: heartily wished that I had! I would
I gladly have withdrawn from the bar
' gain altogether, but the probability
! of my friend sending her carriage
! such a long distance, and being dis
! appointed at my non-arrival, ren
! dered it now, I considered, too late
' to retract. Of course my letter would
reach her before the timo for me to
set out. Why need I disturb my
' mind in contemplating a contingency
. which might never arise? Thus 1
? argued within myself, and thc rea
j Boning tendered to re-assure me. I
' have never, like some people, adopt
j ed the practice of going half-way to
j welcome trouble. My own expe
! rierice convinces me that it is never
right or expedient to do so. Always
give it a wide berth whenever it is
possible-to catch you, it is sure to
do, anyhow, some day; and why not
let the evil be avoided until you can?
not help yourself? What with ima?
ginary trials in the prospectivo and
real ones in the present, there is very
little peace to be extracted from the
! things of this earth.
All arrangements were completed
for my departure. I had already
taken my farewell-look at tho moun?
tains, looming up so grandly in the
distance; and after a last chat with
old -friends-a chat carried far into
the night-went to my room for a
few hour's repose. It was, indeed,
but a short rest I was able to snatch,
for, like all railroads, the one of
which I write was apparently con?
ducted on the plan of starting at
tho most inconceivably inconvenient
hours-seemingly desirous of making
things as universally disagreeable- for
unfortunate travelers as possible.
Long before the fair Aurora had
given the slightest indications of her
appearance, I found myself torn
ruthlessly from a most refreshing
slumber, and in a half-way state, be?
tween waking and sleeping, seated
beside Mr. W- in the carriage.
There was a general confusion ol
ideas in my head about cold biscuits,
j hot coffee, and a scalded throat-and
this was all, for at least a mile; by
which time tho motion of tho car?
riage, and its rolling sound along thc
frosty road, began to make some dis?
tinct impression on my benumbed
j senses.
i It was a cool morning, I remember,
and I was beginning to commiserat?
I the condition of tho driver out-side,
! when we drew up at the depot. Il
: was dimly lighted with lanterns her?
and there, and people were stirring
! about considerably, buying ticket?
I and cheeking baggage. A comfort
able seat l>eing secured, and my tick?
et lodged safely in my pocket-book, 1
immediately set to work wishing lo?
comotion would begin. I believe this
is the orthodox programme with tra
velors. lu this instance-one in r
thousand-my patience did not sutler.
We were soon rushing along at ;
swift rate through the morning air
My first decision in devising som?
plan-pour ?Kisser le temps-was ii
I favor of a comfortable nap, curled nj
cozily on the seat; but this apparently
j easy job, like some things in life, wai
much more readily framed in desigi
than accomplished. Somnus or Mor
I pheus, or -whatever god had been po
lite enough to luke charge of m^
slumbers for this night, had been dis
missed in too unceremonious a fa
shion to return without some craving
But os other things drew my at ten
tion, and served to interest me, I dh
not distress myself concerning tin
matter. T began to watch what th
Germans so appropriately call Mot
genroth; the gradual, indcscribabl
change from the darkness and gloon
of night to the brightness, tho fresh
ness, the inexpressible beauty o
morn. It is one of the sublimes
sights in nature, to see the pall o
darkness lifted from the ^arth, as i
by the hand of magic, und in itsplao
such an indescribable glow, such
radiant flood of light, illuminating a
terrestrial objects; then the crimso
flushing in the East, and the gorgeou
magnificence of the scene when th
majestic King of the Day makes hi
grand debut on the stage. Ah, thei
is nothing like it for beauty-nothin
.like it, in its peculiar, exhileratin
charlu! Before this occasion,'I had
often wondered where 'could be the
fan of early rising, of jumping ont of
bed half asleep, tumultuously tossing
on your clothes, nt the speed of elec?
tricity, and rushing out frantically
like one demented-and all for what?
Why, to see the sun rise. It used to
puzzle me to find anything agreeable
iu it, and it seomed to me that dew?
drops, "charmsof earliest birds," the
breath of morn and sun-rise were
egregious humbugs. But I have lived
to admit that they aro all enchanting
realities, and to he impressed with
the truth, that there is no hour in nil
the twenty-four, not even the purple
eve, nor sun-set, nor where the quiet
skies are gemmed with stars, which
is so delightful, so elevating, so inspir?
ing, as the hour of sun-rise. En?
gaged in such thoughts, the time did
not drug heavily. Before I liad ex?
hausted this fruitful field of imagina?
tion, another was suggested somewhat
metaphysical in its tendency. A
change came over everything-the
trees, with their rich autumn leaves,
the wild bowel's, the sunny landscape,
tlie very sun itself, no longer appeared
the same. Why must things chang",
I wonder, when they are pleasant?
There had been a few scattered clouds
about thc horizon, und they gathered
around the sun, darkening his bril?
liant face. lu a few hours, not ont
of his beaming rays could be discern?
ed anywhere. They lind disappeared
"likes dream when ono awaketh."
It grew quite dark, and the rain fell
I in a slow, monotonous dingle. This,
! then, was the inglorious end of all
I thnt beauty-, all that grund illumina
tion, which, at early morn, had bathed
the world in such a flood of glory! 1
was reminded of that little verse o!
Moore's, which everybody knows ant*
rc] lents:
"All that's bright must fade
Tho brightest still thc fleetest:
All that's mvoct was made
Hut ti? bc lost when sweetest."
Of course thc drizzle changed int?
a pouring Hood by the time we hac
to change cars. The passengers ni
hud their tempers sweetened by get
ting ?trenched almost to the skin
The conductor came forward am
piloted me through a labyrinth o
trains to the one in which the re
mainder of my journey would lu
prosecuted, lt was entirely destitute
of occupants, which afforded me at
unusual advantage in the selection o
a seat. I tonk possession of one ii
the extreme end of the cur, and turn
ing to thc conductor, remarked
"Judging from appearances,
should say there was little traveling
on this road."
."Yes," he replied, "you are cor
rect in your surmise. It is only i
branch of the main road, and some
times, for days together, there is no
a Kingle passenger." And depositin;
my lunch basket, carpet-bag, and til
the paraphernalia indispensable to ;
lady in traveling, the conducto
bowed in acknowledgment at in;
thanks for his courtesy, and made hi
exit. I waa thus left in solitary, un
disputed possession of the entire car
and for once could not make th
usual complaints on account of th
crowd, ami a want of breathing
space. I might, indeed, have a doze)
seats at once, if I liked, but no
knowing exactly what manner of prc
ceeding would enable me to occup;
so many, 1 contented myself wit
one.
Sonic very curious and edifying rt
flections wore suggested to me abort
the uselessness of having more of nm
thing than our wants demand,
had often, I recollected, in moment
of weariness-my body cramped i
an uncomfortable posture, and m
mind afflicted with its own inactivity
indulged myself in the useless pa
time of wishing - -for instance, that
had a dozen scats. Whereas, it no
became apparent to me, by the lig;l
of present developments, that if, o
such occasions, a benevolent fail
had appeared and fulfilled my desiri
to the letter, I would have been at a
utter loss to devise any use whatev<
to which the said seats could has
been applied. 1 made sundry res?
lotions (which have been kept invi<
late since!) never to be so unreasoi
able again. As this commendab
resolution was, metaphorically speal
ing, signed and sealed, I began t
feel keenly alive to the fact, that n
state of solitary grandeur was ruthi
oppressive. Have you ever taken
solitary l ido ou a railway-car, reade)
If not, it would be quite useless i
endeavor to convey an idea of tl
sensations producen thereby. 1 kno
nothing like it, except it be to {
alone into the church, where one
accustomed to worship every Sabbat
with a crowd, and to sit for an hoi
in one of its vacant pews.
On the occasion in question, i
doubt the gloomy weather hud a tl
pressing influence on my spirits. Tl
prospect was, indeed, dismal
the extreme -a barren, mon?tono
country it seemed to me, with i
beauty of scenery, and nothing i
tractive in landscape. Thc rain co
tinued to fall slowly, with a mein
choly sound; and the low, inoanii
wind, ns it sighed through the foresi
and the dreary rustling ^pt the de
leaves on the ground, made me f?
unutterably lonely. These sonn
were not, so perceptible after tho tin
was in motion-but even then,
could but think what wretch
weather it was for a carriage drive
twenty miles over a rough count
and bad roads. Then, former app:
hensions occurred to my mind ab<
a failure, to meet me, and the nnpli
sant dilemma in which I would
placed. To divert my attention'fn
such an unpleasant theme. 1 1
thought me of reading. So, rum?
maging in my portmanteau, I found
thc last number of the Virginia Uni?
versity Magazine, which had come by
mail the day before I left G-, and
had been thrown into the bag, with
the careless remark, "T might fancy
something to read on the way."
"The contingency hud arisen, sure
enougb," was my mental ejaculation,
as I cut the leaves and disposed my?
self comfortably to enjoy its contents.
Being tins engaged, I was inter?
rupted by thc opening of the door at
the farther end of the car, and thc
entrance of another passenger. "You
arc rather tardy in making your ap?
pearance on the scene," I thought,
glancing at him casually; "been
smoking a sogar in the baggage car, I
suppose." Verily, I had reason after?
ward to be sorry that he had made
his appearance at all!
However, at first, 1 felt very little
concern about the other passenger,
and turned, for companionship, to
my book. There was the usual
variety of such publications, poetry,
stories, literary essays and short arti?
cles, very pungent and witty. I
would "do it." 1 thought, like coun?
try poople read the newspapers, (at
least I've been told so.) begin at the
first column and wade through to the
last, advertisements and all. Having
decided on this admirable plan. I
I had just gotten into the merits of the
j Opening article win n the dim con?
sciousness dawned upon nve that my
fellow-passenger was a most unmiti?
gated fidget. "In the name of
i wonder, why does the man change
! Iiis seat so frequently?" was my men
j tal comment-for, be it observed, on
; first entering, he bad taken the seat
i nearest the door, and Ly frequent
ebunges, was now somewhat, beyond
the middle of tho car. He came still
nearer and nearer, and at last my cu?
riosity became so excited, I lost all
interest in the magazine, and laying
j it idly in my lap, employed myself in
I trying to imagine what could make
I the man so dreadfully restless. His
! malady, whatever its cause, did not
I improve; he continued to move about
j uneasily, and was now so near, a.s to
i admit of a ?dose inspection of his
person. I scanned him narrowly,
when 1 thought he did not perceive
: my observation trying, if possible,
to discover if there was anything in
his appearance, indicative of an evil
conscience which was, at that time,
i the only reason I could assisi i foi
such perturbed restlessness,
j He was a tall, young man. scarcelv
over twenty-live, 1 should judge
slenderly, slightly built, and must be,
I thought, in delicate health. Thif
supposition did not originate aloin
from the almost unearthly pallor,
which characterized his face, but als<
from his white, emaciated, almost
transparent hands, and the genera
air of melancholy which market!
his appearance. He was certainly
an invalid- a great sufferer-then
could be no doubt of that in my
mind, for 1 noticed that occa
sionally the blood would mount nj
in a crimson flush to his cheeks, am
then as suddenly recede, leaving hi
face more shockingly pallid than be?
fore. He was dressed like a gentle
man, in a suit of black-good mate
rial and fashionably made, but lu
wore them carelessly. His cravat hun j
loosely around his neck, and titer
was an air of wildness and excitemen
pervading his whole person. As h
eontiuued to approach, 1 noted al
these things, but the peculiarity o
his face, which first attracted am
! then absorbed my attention, were bi
eyes. Tiny were remarkable eye*
deep set, hollow, keen as a falcon'.*
with something mysterious, snpei
natural in their fiery glance. Th
expression once seen was never foi
gotten. What was it? What wa
the fascination which made me loo
in spite of myself, which made in
powerless to resist their wild, ur
earthly charm? 1 tried to analyz
the secret of their power. Was tb
influence they exerted on the behob
er pleasurable? No; far from ii
On the contrary, the moment I caugl
the expression of the man's eye.
felt an inward shrinking, an indi
finable fear take possession of mt
lint where had I seen that expressio
before! Sundy somewhere. Ye:
Good Heaven! on a sudden the trat
flashed upon me. 1 bad once bee
at the Lunatic Asylum in the city <
(' . where ! bad seen ?me of tl
patients, a crazy clergyman, who ha
just stich eyes. Hen? was the clue t
the unaccountable antipathy'whir
their expression inspired. Could
believe it? Was this man a lunati
too? The thought was frightfi
enough, but there was little leisui
for specidation on the ?abject; no
; indeed, for anything else, for tl
young mau had now, sans cersmoni
taken his seat beside me, and was e
gerly inspecting me from head
1 foot. Oh! you may imagine my se
' sat ions! Great God! would he nev
; have done? Would the man nev
i cease that terrible, stony stare fro
those glaring, i 'pulsive eyes? 1 ft
: the blood rush painfully to my fae
and then I felt weak and cold, ns il
! would taint. Tf the conductor won
only come, or if somebody was ne
whom I might call to the rescu
But no; there 1 was, shut up alone
a railway coach with a lunat
Would I be murdered there in cc
blood anil none to save nie? Or
' might fancy to see nie leap from t
I platform and the train in full spet
There was no accounting for t
freaksof insanity. All these thougl
rushed through my mind with t
rapidity of lightning, lt was only
I ezerting the most powerful self c<
trol I could refrain from screaming,
or giving vent, ip some way, to my
excited feelings. If I had possessed
sufficient strength, most assuredly a
desperate effort would have been
made to reach the door; btit there I
was, literally chained to the spot with
fear, as firmly as a galley slave to his
oar. After apparently satisfying him?
self as to my personal appearance,
the young man bent forward, and in
ti calm, quiet tone demanded, "Are
you traveling alone?"
I could not have been more aston?
ished had Mount Chimborazo fallen
at my feet, for I expected only the
thunders of Jupiter to emanate from
the dreaded monster. After several
moments had elapsed, I found
strength to answer, "Yes."
"Where are you going?" in a still
milder voice.
"I expected," I said, "to lind some
friends to meet me at A-."
"A- is a small village," half so?
liloquized my companion; "it is a
horrid, muddy place. Are you ac?
quainted there? Do you know many
people?"
"No," I told him; "I had never
been there in my life, and as far as
my knowledge extended, had not a
single acquaintance in the place." j
The reply seemed to give him
hearty satisfaction, for some reason, :
evinced by a wild Hash from his !
gleaming eyes.
"What is your name?*' was his
next attack. j
Truly, .Monsieur Madman, 1 |
thought, you have kept your inqnisi
tivenesss in n remarkable state of pre?
servation; if your other faculties were I
developed in the same ratio, you
would be a prodigy. Feeling repng
nant to disclose my name. I preserved
a discreet silence, pretending not to j
have heard the question, and, incre- j
dible to state, my : .ad acquaintance
ha?! consideration enough not to press
the matter. S<> I thought then. For j
the first time, he removed his eyes
those basilisk eyes-from my face, j
allowing his gaze to wander about j
the ear. then out into the rain, tinnily
resting opon me again.
"So you have no acquaintances in
A-V he resumed.
"None. "
"Suppose your friends fail to meet
yon: what will you do?""
There! That was the question
which had tormented me already he- j
.youd expression. Why did he ask
it? And why did he watch me so
intently?
"1 don t know,"*! answered; and
then, ina trembling voice, asked. "Ts
there no hotel?'"
"Vi s, he believed there was-didn't :
know exactly- - in fact, it would bo ;
veiw unpleasant at the hotel for me !
anyhow; but he'd already arranged
the matter for me nicely."
Benevolent individual! lt was a j
revelation to me certainly, for I had
never known before that crazy people
were so kind-hearted. Here was the
nice arrangement--listen to it.
J [CONTINUED OX FRIDAY.]
Internal Revenue Tax.
TI ll I?l> DISTRICT S. C..
M .uu- ? 18, 1866.
4 bb persons in business, trade or pro
-CJL fessiou ot' anv kind since lilith of May, !
186.), arc required to pav their licenses
forthwith. Vf. A. HAMOS, |
Collector for Richland District. ?
??~ Olliee Court House square.
March H
Shovels, Spades, Forks, &c.
.1/ tin siijii of the Hohle,i Pad-Lock. ?
VI .ARGE supply of SHOVELS, Spades, I
Garden Fork"?? and Rakes, Manure !
Forks, Ac. For .-ale low liv
April DIAL A POPE. j
Scythe Blades! Scythe Blades! j
1/ the Sign of the Golden Pad-J.ix-k.
.)."' HOZ. superior SCYTHES, in store I
^?_) and foi- sale cheap bv
April '.>.-> D?AL A POPE.
COTTON AND WOOL CARDS.
"tX TH OLES AI. F. and retail bv
V\ March 22 DIAL A POPE.
Engine, etc., for Sale.
AFIVE-HORSE ENGINE, in running
order, with pnllevs, ? te., for sale low.
Apply at this office. " Dee 21
Fishing Tackle.
ITCHING TACKLE, of every variety, in .
store and for sale cheap for cash bv i
April 1:5 DIAL A POPE. ]
Blacksmiths' Tools.
Al the Sign of the Holden Pad-Jjock.
BELLOWS, ANVILS, VICES, SCREW
PLATES, buttresses, Pincers, Tongs,
Rasps, Files. Farriers' Knives ami Ham
mers, Ac In store and for sale low for !
cash bv DIAL A POPE. !
MAKE YOU OWX SOAP !
It'l Sating and t'sitig ?eon- Waste t?rense.
bl'Y ONE BOX OF THE
Pennsylvania Salt Manufacturing
Company's
SAPONIFIER,
OK CONCENTRATED LYE.
IT will make ll) pounds of excellent HARD
SOAP, or 25 ?allons of the very best
SOFT SOAP, for only about 35 CENTS.
Directions on each l?ox. For ?ale at all
Drug and Grocery stores, ?nd in lots at
wholesale bv
WM. "M. ELLICOTT A SONS,
No. 8 Spear's Wharf,
March 1 3mo baltimore. Md.
Manufacturers' Supplies !
MILLWARD & \Y1\EBRE\ER.
118 Market St -eel, Philadelphia,
DEALERS in MACHINERY and SUP?
PLIES of CN cry description for Cotton
and Woolen Manufactories. Also, Oak
tanned LEATHER BELTING, CARD
CbOTHING, Cotton and Woolen YARNS,
Warps, Starch, Oils, Dye Stuffs, ftc. Ad?
vances made on consignments of Cotton
and Woolen Yarns. Orders solicited, which
shall receive prompt attention.
WM. MILLWARD, D ?S WIN EBBEN ER.
March 7 Sm o
New York Advertisements.
BRIT MTMTil
DY THE
EUREKA GIFT ASSOCIATION.
ESTABLISHED 184?.
180 Broadway, New York.
Rosewood Pianos, Melodeocs, Fine
Oil Paintings, Engravings, Silver
Ware, Fine Gola and Silver
Watches. Diamond Pins, Dia
mond Rings, Gold Bracelets
Coral. Florentine, Mosaic,
Jet, Lava and Cameo Ladies'
Sets, Gold Pens with Gold and
Silver Extension Holders, Sleeve
Buttons, sets of Studs, Vest and
Neck Chains, Gold Rings, &c,
VALUED AT
^1,000,000.
DRETRIBUTION is made in thc foUowing.
manner: Certificates, naming each
article and its value, are placed in sealed
envelopes, which are well mixed. One of
these envelopes, containing the certificate
or order for some article, will be delivered
at our office or sent by mail to any address,
without regard to choice, on receipt of 25
cents. On receiving the certificate, the
purchaser will see what article it draws and
its value, and can then send ONE DOLLAR
and receive the article named? or can chooa*
any other one article on our hst of the same
value.
*?- Purchasers of our HEALED ENVE?
LOPES may, in this manner, obtain an
article TM?L I rom One lo Fire Hundred
Dollars,
For One TJollar,
Which; they need not pay until it is known
what is drawn and its value. Entire satis?
faction guaranteed in all cases.
THE EUREKA GIFT ASSOCIATION
Would call attention to t he fact of its being
the original and largest Gift Association in
the country. We are, therefore, enabled to
send goods and give better chances to
obtain the more valuable frizes than any
other establishment of the kind. The bu?
siness continues to be conducted in a fair
and honorable manner, and a large and
greatly increasing trade : 1 proof that our
patrons appreciate this me hod of obtain?
ing rich and elegant goods.
During the past year, this Association
has sent a very large number of valuable
prizes to all parts of the country. Those
who patronize us will receive the full value
ol' their money, as no article ou our list is
worth less than One Dollar, retail, and
there arc 110 blanks.
Parties dealing with us may depend on
having prompt returns, and the article
drawn will be immediately sent to any ad?
dress by return mail or express.
The following parties have recently
drawn valuable prizes from the Eureka As?
sociation, and have kindly allowed the use
of their names; many other names might
be published were wc permitted:
Andrew Wilson, Custom House, Philadel?
phia, Penn., Oil Painting, value $100; Jas.
Hargraves, H21 Broadway, New York, Oil
Painting, value $100; E. E. Jones, Barrett.
Marshall Co., Kansas, Melodeon, vainc $200;
1'. J. Bvrnes, Waterbnrv, Ct., Gold Watch,
value $125; J. F. Shaw, 224East24th street.
New York, Piano, value $350; Mrs. Chas. J.
Nevis, Elmira, N. Y., Piano, vale? $300;
Miss Lucy Jam-way, Elmira, N. Y., Ouster
Diamond' Bing, value $200; Mrs. K. Ben?
dover, City Hotel, Nashville, Tenn., Melo?
deon, vallie $125: Oscar M. Aden, Co. B.
Mid Beg. Ind. Vols., Nashville, Tenn..
Watch, value $85; Rowland S. Patterson,
Co. D, 10th Iowa Vet. .Vols., Oil Painting,
value $100; Mrs. Abbey J. Parsons, Spring?
field, Mass., Melodeon", value $150; Jas. L.
Dexter. City Surveyor, Syracuse, N. Y..
Cold Watch, value $'l50; Mrs. James Ely,
177 Wooster street, cor. Bleeker, N. ?., Oil
Painting, value $100; Mrs. J. C. Coles,
Grand Rapids, Michigan, Silver Castor,
value $40; Dr. J. B. Sinclair, No. 4 M*in
st.. Utica, N. Y., Framed Engraving, value
$25; Hon. Luther Detmold, Washington,
D. C., Oil Painting, value $100.
Letters from varions parties throughout
the countrv. acknowledging the receipt of
very valuable gifts, may be seen on file at
our office. _
To be Sold for One Dollar Each,
Without regard to eahte, and not to be jutid
for until yon knott trhat you >H? receive.
50 Eleg't Rosewood Pianos, EACH.
worth from.$250.00 to 500.0tl
50 Melodeons, Ros'd cases. 125.00 to 225.00
100 fine Oil Paintings. 25.?0 to 100.00
100 gold H'g Case Watches 75.00 to 159.0o
150 Diamond Rings. 50.00 to 200.60
250 Ladies1 Gold Watches 60.00 to 85.00
150 Silver Watches. 25.00 to 50.00
200 fine Steel Eng's, fr'md. 12.00 to 25.00
100 Music Boxes. 12.00 to 45.00
lOOSil'rRev'gPat.Castoi-s 15.00 to 40.00
100 " F t and Cke B'kets. 15.00 to 35.00
500 sets Silver Tea and
Tablespoons. 15.00 to 30.00
2,500 Vest and Neck Chains 5.00 to 25.00
2,500 Ladies' Silver Porte
monaies. 8.00 to 15.00
3,000 Silver Butter Knives 3.00 to 7.00
2,000 pr Ear-rings,new style 1.50 to 6.00
3,000 -Gold Pencils and
Toothpicks. 3.00 to 8.00
3,000 Onvx and Amethyst
Brooches. 4.00 to lO.oo
3,000 Lava and Florentine
Brooches. 4.00 to 6.00
1,000 Masonic Tins. 4.00 to 6.50
2,000 fine Gold Web Keys. 8.50 to 6.50 '
5,000 Children's Armlet's . 2.50 to 8.00
2,500 sets Bosom Studs .. 1.50 to 5.00 >
2,500 En'd Sleeve Buttons. 2.50 to 10.00
10,000 Plain Gold and
Chased Rings. 1.00 to 5.0O
5,000 Stone Set A S'l Rings 2.50 t.> 10.0o
5,0(10 Lockets, all sizes . 2.00 to 7.00
10.000 sets Ladies'Jewelry 8.00 to 20.00
4,000 Watch Charms, each 3.00 to 5.50
5,000 Gold Pens, Silv Ex C's 4.00 to 6.00
5,000 trent's Breast and
Scarf Pins. 3.00 to 20.00
2,000 Ladies' New St\lc
Belt Buckles . 4.00 to 6.50
2,000 Chatelaine and Guard
Chains. 6.00 t.> 20.00
1,000 Gold Thimbles. 7.00 to 14.'?0
2,000 set Ladies'Jet ? Gold 10.00 to 20.0?
10,000 Gold Crosses. 1.50 to 6.00
6,000 Oval Band Bracelets. ?-..00 to 20.00
4,000 Chased Bracelets. 5.00 to 16.00
2,000 Ball Ear-drops, all
colors. 3.00 to 5.00
5,000 ?ne Gold Pens . 2*H? to 3.50
2,000 New Style Jct and
Gold Ear-drops. 3.00 to 7.00
2,500 New Stvle Long Crys?
tal Ear-dcops. . 4.00 to 8.00
2,000 Gold Pena. 3.00 to 6.oo
KW A chance to obtain any of the above
articles for ONE DOLLAR by purchasing a
Sealed Envelope, for 25 cents.
sar Five Sealed Envelopes will be sent
for $1.00; eleven for $2.00; thirty for $5.00,
sixty-five for $10.00; one hundred for $15.00.
AGENTS -WANTED EVERYWHERE.
Our patrons are desired to send United
States money when it is convenient. LOOK
letters are unnecessary. Orders for Sealed
Envelopes must in every case be accompa?
nied bv the ensh^with the name of the
person' sending, abd Town, County and
State plainly written. Letters should bs
addressed to the Managers as follows:
GOODWIN, HUNT & CO.,
Feb 10 75* Box 5,706 Post Office. N. Y