Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1882-07-08
rrooJ Sdncbo pa0zu.

The eV0nttul l0urln Oh july Ia
come and gone again. A cold win
has blown from the North all day
and we have felt more like draw
ing our chairs nearer the fire, thai
eating ice cream or using our pain
fans.
Since such terrific storms hav
shaken and shocked our quiet worlt
of late, Sancho Panza has though
seriously of seeking some region o
caves, where no shivered trees, lu
rid lightning, and blown ava,
houses terrorize the sight of feebl.
Fnan-we pity nervous constitution!
this season. | have less than M
admiration for thunderstorm sub
Unity. But we should not com
plain, when each storm has brought
such seasonable showers to oul
farmers-the best season for tobac.
co planting ever known, and fol
weeds and grass the same. Last
years drouth was SO. disastrous,
that
"Hark! from the tomb doleful sound,
was the tenor of every farmers
song; but this year, the fiattering
prospects change the solemn scene,
and the grave-digging countenances
have given place to dancing-master
smiles of the happiest nature. The
contrast is indeed very pleasing TO
see.
We remember, during the gloom
lest time of the drouth, last year,
how cheeringly "Countryman"
wrote and prophesled for us an
encouraging future. He is happy
writer; and his Hurricane Springs
letter, of a few weeks ago, was
quite readable, and well worthy a
resting place in our scrap-book.
An article signed "Countryman,"
is as sure to be read by US, as the
three worthless, Talmage, Beecher
and Buford. He is sarcastic,
Though politely SOL humorous and
practical-Writes like a gentleman
of many years, and much expert
ence, especially in politics.
We learned sad news from Port
Royal vicinity a few days since.
Mr.. r. Bourne's gallant gray"
came near losing his life last week.
He broke loose from where he was
hitehed, started down the street at
Port Royal, with buggy behind
him, when some one ran out to stop
him, he turned suddenly, as if
frightened, ran off the road, and
leaped down a bluff eighty or a
hundred feet, leaving the buggy in
a treetop, badly broken up.
Jovial Mr.. B, observe this moral
ye the paths Of Mulhotton-
ism. .......ss ...-,-t...
Poor Guiteau has hung at last,
and the guilt of hanging poor
lunatic, rests upon many souls.
The whole affair has been an fun-
fortunate one., We wonder what
the newspaper men will do now,
for some miserable mortal to deal
out in disgusting detail, to sensa-
ton loving public? Who comes
next: We hope no one, very soon,
for
"Our ears are
Panied, our souls are sick, of every days
report -.a..
OF wrong and outrage, with which this
earth Is filled"
The world is no poorer, that Gui-
teau is gone, but justice has been
upon. o the tasty, fastid-
ious relic lovers, who wanted his
lear old clothes, "Just one scrap if
you please" They had better call
up the hands, shoulder their picks,
5hovels and hoes, and bring to light
the Wondering bones of dear (?) old
John Brown. Grand old relics too,
hey would be, with an evil light of
tragic history upon them. Bring
is one, when you find them.
The busy threshing machine has
made glad music for the farmers
this week. The teams have stood |
The heat and labor, much better
han expected. Only a few, from
empty cribs, have gone to
The "Valley of dry bones" Now
S the most trying time on their
half starved conditions. The wav-
ing acres of growing corn look en-
The farmer has his
trials and tribulations, tits true, but
after all it's the noblest life of the
and.
Yours from the country, enjoying
blackberry pies, and mecking-bird
music, SANCHO PANZA.
July 4, 1882.