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THE ATLANTIAN
Thigh standards]
T HIS BANK is a strong factor in
the important financial ancl com
mercial affairs of the South, be
cause it has always maintained high
standards.
Its business is confined strictly to
legitimate channels.
It has the confidence of banks, busi
ness men and individuals.
It co-operates with its customers in
all matters that will tend to their ad
vantage and satisfaction.
This Bank welcomes accounts of
those who recognize the value of high
standards in business.
|4% on Sayings
Central Bank & Trust Corporation
ASA G. CANDLER, President
Candler Building
BRANCH: CORNER MITCHELL AND FORSYTH STS.
y — h
HARD LUCK.
A canny Scot was sitting in the smok
ing compartment of the train, and, after
Ailing his pipe, he turned to the man on
his loft and asked: “Hao ye a match?”
The man went through his pockets and
said: ‘‘I am sorry, but I have not.”
Turning to the man on his right he
asked the samo question, and after a
search this man also said: “I am very
sorry, but I have used my last one.”
“All, weel,” said the Scot with a
sigh, as he reached into his own pocket,
“I’ll liae ta use one o’ my ain.”
MEEK IN VAIN.
Mrs. Jackson—“Wal, Parson, I knows
de Bible says do meek shall inherit do
earth; an’ deed I tries to be meek as
I kin! ”
Parson Polhenuis—‘ ‘ Pat’s right, sis-
tah! Pat’s right! ’ ’
Mrs. Jackson—‘‘But it’ll be jest mail
luck, when it comes time fo' me to in
herit do earth, dat dar ’ll be municipal
ownership. ’ ’
NO HOPE.
My small niece, aged four, came run
ning into the room whero her mother
and I were sitting,
‘‘My dollie’s sick,” she said, ‘‘and I
don’t know what’s the matter. I gave
her water nnd she can’t swallow that;
the doctor gave her a pill and she can’t
swallow that.”
‘ ‘ Then, ’ ’ said T, ‘ ‘ I don’t see but
what you had better try Christian Science
for her.”
‘‘We have tried it,” said she, ‘‘and
sho can’t swallow that.”—Life.
A CATCH.
Three girls in white sat under a strip
ed awning on a sun-drenched beach. A
young man approached and said, display
ing three shells in the palm of his hand.
‘‘Girls, how many shells do you sec?”
‘ ‘ Three, ’ ’ was the reply.
‘‘I say there nre four,” said the young
man. lie shut his hand and opened it
again. ‘‘Now how many are there?”
‘‘Three,” the girls repeated stoutly.
“Three.”
“I say four,” he declared. “Will
you each give a dollar to the Children’s
Country Week if I’m wrong?”
‘ ‘ Yes, ’ ’ they agreed.
‘ ‘ Then give it, ’ ’ said the young man;
“for wrong I am—there are only three.
1 Vo caught six persons with this dodge
this morning. ’ ’
HEAVEN WISEST AFTER ALL.
His fortune made, a longing conics
uiion him to look once more upon the
beauteous face and form of her whom
he cannot forget. He enters the village
in the gloaming, pausing for water at a
smithy’s; the good housewife, with a
brood of little ones dinging to her skirt,
answered his knock. An unwieldy crea
ture, wrinkled of face and white of hair,
looked out at him from the doorway; one
long steady gaze while his heart was
slowly settling from his throat down to
its normal place. Then Emmy recognized
him. He went back to the far west, with
out waiting for daybreak, satisAed that
heaven was wisest after all in the mating
of hearts. He had idolized the Emmy
of his youth. He abhorred the Emmy,
the smithy’s wife, of the after yeais.
There was a little schoolma’am out in
the far west near his prairie home who
had sympathized with him when he told
her his story of Etnmy. He never realized
what true love meant until he held her
hand clasped in his again. A new ro
mance began to bud and blossom in his
heart and ere the snow fell again around
the camp now teacher was needed to
take the place of the one who had just
resigned to wed.
Time is the great soother of all pains—
the healer of all wounds—and the pro
vider of a second sight that amazes us
with the picture we were too blind to see
in days gone by. Fate is kind to many
lovers in not giving them the sweetheart
they desire.—Selected.
HOW DID SHE MEAN IT?
FALSE, BUT FUNNY.
Hugo N. Schlesinger is a police pros
ecutor in Cleveland. He comes from a
small town in Ohio, but he is trying to
forget it, and he acts with great dignity
in court.
Not long ago he was prosecuting a
negro for some crime. The negro looked
Hugo over and asked one of the court
attendants: “Is that prosecutah’s name
Hugo Schlesingah?”
“It is,” the attendant answered.
“Hello, the’, Hugo,” bawled the de
fendant. “Ain’t seen you sense th’
night we-all robbed ol ’ Ben Farber’s
watahmelon patch.”
‘ ‘ Which was the truth, ’ ’ some of
Schlesinger’s friends are mean enough
to add.
The small boy was being reproved by
his mother.
“Why can’t you bo good?” she asked.
“I’ll bo good for a nickel,” he said.
“Ah!” responded the mother, “you
want to be bribed. You should copy your
father and be good for nothing. ’ ’
LOOKING THE PART.
“So you are going to be married,”
said Mrs. Tinker to her maid.
“Yis, ma’am,” answered Katie.
“And what business is your lmsband-
to-be in, Katie?”
“Sure, ma’am, lie’s in the militia, and
it’s a foine malicious look he has, in
deed. ’ ’
CHUCKLES.
The young preacher was delivering an
impressive sermon and at its close re
marked :
‘ ‘ Remember, always, that whatever
you sow, that also shall you reap. ’ ’
An old fellow nudged a friend and
chuckled:
“Not always; not if your neighbor
keeps chickens.”
THE CANNED VARIETY.
The maid prattled on—“Oh, don’t you
love grand opera?”
“Y-e-s,” he replied, “but the records
always squeak so. ’ ’
HON. JAMES G. WOODWARD,
Mayor-Elect Who Won His Election in One of the Most
Spirited Contests Ever Waged in Atlanta—He Will Be
Inaugurated January 1st.