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THE NORCROSS ADVANCE, art fktday frr JAMES L. HOLLIFIELD. SUBSCRIPTION RATES: One copy, one years2.of Five copies 41 “ - sp.Of Ten “ “ “ $15.01 —ADVERTISING RATES:— t Space;’ '*’s ~wp m. 3 «ja mjls“ m i'Sob $i oo s i atfiTi bo $ 4 fioUe w! now e “ 160 250 450 7 25110001 18<K 5 “ 200 800 s«oi 90015 00 220 C r 4 “ 2K» 350 M 0 HOW 18 00 27 0C M. cot. 860 426 850 14 W 25 00 35 00 )i 44 556 SOO; 12 50* 25 00! 46 W 60 00 I 1 “ lOOOiISOO 15 00! 22 00‘«2W’ 100 00 • Advertlaementa Tess than one-lourtb of & cn'.iznrn'fo be charged for by the square —for first insertion |i 00 and for each sub sequent ifisertior 50 cents. Special con tracts can be made where short advertise ment* are inserted for a longer period than three months. One inch snail consti tute a square. Marriage notices and obituaries, ex ceeding six lines, will be charged for as advertisements. Personal or abusive communications will not be inserted at any price. Communications of general or local in terest, under a genuine signature, are respectfully solicited from any source. J. L. HOLLIFIELD, Publishes. ..u Rail Road Guide, ATLANTA & WEST POINT R. R. night passengkr train—Outward. Leaves Atlanta - - . 1100 p m Arrives at West Point . . 355 a m NIGHT **ASB®NGER train—lnward. Leaves West Point - . . 100 am Arrives at Atlanta . . . 650 am I>AY PASSENGER TRAlN—Outward. Leaves Atlanta - - - - 720 am Arrives at West Point - --1136 am DAY passenger train—lnward. Reaves West Point . . -140 pm Arrives at Atlanta • - - 5 Sop if AIR-LINE BAIHOAD. PAY PASSENGER traix—lnward. Leaves Atlanta - . . 245 a m Arrive at End of Track - . . 1216 a m pay passenger TRAlN—Outward. Leaves End of Track - - 100 pm Arrive at Atlanta - . - 631 p m fttcnm. New Grocery Store. 47 Peachtree St., Atlanta, Ga. * We announce to our friends and the public generally that we have Just opened nt the old stand of McPherson &. Barnett, Peachtree (Street, a Grocery Establish ment, We shall keep on hand at all times a full stock of . FAMIIY GROCERY SBWtiZJ. ■’ w .3 : ’' ' .4, '* V any other -tty. 7 LAN „———-•-- GO TO Geo. E. Ward & Co/s, TO BUY YOUR L They have opt n d a splendid W ■ ' Stock ok Clothing 1’ ♦ Star' * . ASD— GENTS' FURNISHING GOODS I In London State. Marietta St Removed to my NEW BUILDING, Comer Ahv. £syth Sts. ~ Wher* I hnv% Uh exhibition Ari ImiiibnSe Stock. in mt LINE.- •»»* ttrap®**, (lib cHWW ta Ike city Cradles, Fah MU Is. SmrtM® and Snatches, I arm Ed . Al.« * tock * to •tore. 4 MARK W. JOHNSON. Coreer Alabama a»d Foray to sts., ATLANTA, G A fa MA *€ <*TOM a . < «S** • . Sa fcS M > S - ■MI I ■ t mf*m*MlMm i **** l **>'*‘ a * t t* 'W js W' IMMd. *• Wk* Sf* ' v fcp Wit |W _*! l ? f 111 1? «**>■» »* «* jim- 1 awe*** «*• •"**-*** «* JXT, X m« ***T*>*k a. • •»/ -••A. A • * 111 MgmiHill l ISW! _ „,, THE NORCROSS ADVANCE. eI - ?*" -?F' r ' -» - * *.■■■*— —..... .. - •• • : BY JAS. L HOLLIFIELD. ' *'"' t* ' '.'. ''"' mr ‘ ■■* , • THE CONFEDERATE DEAD. BY FATHER BYAN. • , • r-r Do we "weep for the heroes who died for ( us? ) Who, living were true and tried for us. i And in death sleep side by side for us ? The Martyr band ' That hallowed our land . With the blood they poured in a tide for us. Ah I fearless on many a day for as, They stood in the front of the fray for us, And held the fbeman at bay for us; Fresh tears seould fall Forever—o’er all Who fell while wearing the gray for us. How many a glorious name for us ? How many a story of fame for us They left. Would it not be a shame for us If their memory part From our land and heart ? And a wrong and a blame for us ? No—no—no—they were slain And bright were the lives ' t ncv gave for us: The land they struggled to save for us Cannot forget Its warriors yet Who sleep in so many a grave for us. No—no—-no—they were slain for us, And their blood flowed out in rain for us, Rich, red and pure on the plain for us: And years may go But our teal’s .shall flow O er the dead who have died in vain for us. And dec-ds—proud deeds—shall re main for us, And their names—dear names—without a stain for us, And the glories they won shall not wane for us, In legend and lay Our heroes in gray Though dead, shall live over again for us. GEORGIA. BY EDWARD YOTWG HILL, JR. ’F Fair Georgia! how my full heart swells, As that proud name salutes miae ears; What scenes it wakes In memory cells— How grand thy destiny appears. Although no more among thy hills, Thy wandering son a home may claim, My lyre in boldest measure thrills; Whene'r I breathe tby glorious name. n. Old Yonah, in his solemn pride, Lifts from his breast his craggy piles, his feet bis lovely bride, 'Fhe beautiful Wacoochee smiles; And Kennesaw his double head From fhree uprears in power serene, While near him o’er its pebbly bed, Rolls Chattahoochee’s azures sheen. in. Upon thy soil has nature raised Her monumental granite rock, . Around whose brow for ages blazed 'Hie lightnings yet it felt no shock; For calmly wrapped in cloudy gray, Time e’en from its birth. It stididN, naught telling of decay, The greatest monument on earth. Fair learning'.; gjfta by thee are shovvereu . O’er every one, on eveiy hand. In academic shades embowered s out Frandlin counts her foster-sons, Who stand in fame’s proud sane, by scores And Mercer boasts her honored ones, Whose minds are train‘d within her doore V, From Oglethorpe’s time-honored halls Have issu'd men thou claim’st with pride And Emory a venerated walls Have sent forth minds of giant stride, Upon her hill envirehed plain, Doth beautious Marietta stand; i Tis here in arts of war to train Defenders of our own dear kind; VI. Towards the Western border line, Near Chattahoochee’s silver stream, Where groves of maple, oak and pine, Drive off the was too garnish beam, A village nits mW’st classic shades, Which fairer gfows by every change, And many bright-eyeo, laughing maldte, Bj thee are fostered, sweet La Grange. VIL Where on the steep Atlantic coast Break the wild waves of emerald green, Savannah stands—the proudest boast— The forest city—seaport queen. And further north, thine inland mart, Augusta lies fair as a dream, And northward frctil, thy throbbing heart, Atlanta with its putee of steam. vm. Great Empire of the Bunny South; Thy wanderer greets thee fiom afar, Thy praise is ever In my mouth; Upon our flag thou brightest star, May thy June rays beam ever bright; Thus will I pray where’er I roam, May do fell discord quench thy light, Land of my birth my youths lov’d home. Last Thursday night, says a consiant visitor at the Thomas warden concerts in New York, I witnessed what 1 thought a pro posal, all by fan. which was very amusing to me, but evidently se rious to those engaged. It was a fair young couple, who sat near me.’ Augustus wrote a long let ter, a letter covering one side of the fan, then gave it to Pamela' and appeared much Occupied with the orchestra, which he had until now. ignored. Pamela, as she read the writing on the fan, blushed “celestial rosy red" and then turned pale aiiu trembled. She turned the fan over and wrote on the dean side two words; then alter a few momenta of hesita tion, touched her lover's arm and pushed the fan toward him. Au cu/tua si-Ued. thrust the fan in Ri. breJ't “J F et, fen!‘ offered Pamela lu natatly th® last note o. part sec ond was finished, and these doves could leave their seats anu go into the garden. 1 presumed they would not return to then* seats in the concert-room, but was mista ken. With the first note of the overture in part third, Augusto and Pamela came back, the verv happiest looking pair of lovers I ever met; he radiant and proud; she modest, and serene, and as the two belong to icmable families, I expect about next September to see the an A SNAKE STORY. • ’™ Near the head waters of Cache branch of Indian creek there re sides an old Shawnee Indian wo man, by the name of Not-talla quah familiarly called in the im mediate neighborhood Aunt Net ty. She occupies a small log cabin in a rocky cleft or guleh re mote from the Aubery and Kan sas City road, and about one mile from the road. This old woman cannot be less than ninety years of age although she will not un der any consideration state her exact age. She is a perfect, re cluse, as Riuch so as though she were dead and buried. Few visit uer lonely cabin, and those who intrude once upon her privacy seldom care to venture there again. An attache of this paper in company with Mr. E. Downs, of Cass county, paid a visit to the old Indian’s cabin a few days ago for the purpose of examining a rare collection of reptiles, said to be kept by the old squaw, After some little difficulty the cabin was discovered in a bend of the creek, completely concealed from view by precipitous rocky banks except from the south side of the ravine. A huge vicious mastiff wolf dog showed his ugly fangs, and for a time disputed entrance to the cabin. The door opened and a hideous squaw made her appearance at the aperture, and in a guttural voice, said something to the dog, which at once retreat ed behind the stone chimney at the end of the cabin. Without bidding the party enter the old squaw retreated herself within the cabin, leaving the door open. Following the ola woman into the cabin, our reporter and his guide were for a moment blinded by the smoke and darkness. Stand ing near the door for a few mo ments, they were enabled to see the old squaw seated upon a block of wood near a smoulder ing fire, smoking a small red pipe and apparently unconscious of the presence of strangers. Mr. Downs well acquainted with the old hag’s taste for whiskey and to bacco, laid a quantity of each in her lap. The sight of these un expected luxuries had a magical effect upon the squaw. Her small dull black eyes glittered with Joy and her leathry face brightened with satisfaction. She arose .on being made acquainted with the object of the visit, dragged out a large box and a barrel from near the fire, which at first ap peared to be filled with leaves, out on closer were A”indto contain the old hag’’ family pets. Muttering some whining, sing song words, evi dently of endearment, she put her hand down into the barrel and brought forth first a huge “blue racer," which, half torgid, coiled itself slowly into a knot upon the stone hearth. Then she took out several bl’Ck snakes of various sizes, one oi wmen not less than four feet in length. Then she lifted out a perfect knot of mixed snakes, spotted, striped anti yellow, which were knitted and entwined in ft Coil as large as a half bushel measure. All of these loathsome reptiles she said she had collected herself in the country around oboui her. Some of them she said she had for years. Each of the snakes she called by names, and after lay ing the writhing mass upon the warm hearth left them squim and uncoil in the warmth generated by the fire. Turning to the large box she opened the lid and point ed to a large yellow and black boa constrictor which lay coiled un filling one half of the box.— Bh® caught it gently by the back of the neck and the toil and lifted it also out upon the hearth, and then took therefrom a huge brown snake, of a variety unknown to our reporter. Eacn of these mon stere was at least four or five feet in length, and appeared to be far more active and lively than the smaller snakes. She then drag ged forth an old wolf-skin robe from her bed in a corner near the fire, and unrolled a perfect med ley of rattlesnakes of all hues, all sizes thicknesses and ages. These she handled roughly, rolling the squirming mass out upon the hearth, where the visitors, at a safe distance, might vie# the loathsome sight at leisure. Epon the walls hung a variety of snake skins, rattles, dried snakes’ heads lizards and pieces of dried meat. The sight was the most repug nant ever witnessed by our re porter. Th® old !iag sat down upon the hearth, laughing and chattering her horrid gibberish, and proceeded to wind the two largest snakes around her wrin kled old neck, and then to uncoil the half torpid masses of snakes In a short time she had her lap full of the squirming reptiles, and appeared to handle and play with them like so many harmless kit tens. The visitors unable to with stand the loathsome, sickening ?ight, and the effluvia general in the close dark den, soon took their leave, leaving the old squaw to the company ol her singular nets. She devotes much of her time to playing with them, allow ing them to crawl over her bed and oviw the floor. She them upon birds and insects. Ihe former she catches alive and feeds , to the larger snake* a L mterv l ls iof one or two weeks. &he works a small patch of garden, and de- NORCROSS, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, JULY 11, 1873. pends mostly for other necessaries upon the surrounding country in which she begs. She refused to ! follow her tribe south when they departed a few years ago, snd they loathed her so much for her hideous habits that they -did' not regret leaving her. In ihe*warm ' months she permits her" pets to roam at will over the cabin, and in no instance has she been bitten by any of them, although they will hiss and dart with their pois onous fangs spitefully at times, yet she appears to control them by a few whining words and a glance ac her dull, blach eyes ft is needless to say old Aunt Netty hhs few visitors, and those who have visited her are not anx ious to repeat the visit. THE STORY OF SOME HOT WATER. About two hundred yqars ago, a man, bearing the wjc'of the Marquis of Worcester, was sitting on a cold night in a small, mean room, before a blazing fire. This was in Ireland,and the man was a prisoner. A kettle of: bailing wa ter was on the fire, and he sat watching the steam as it lifted the lid of the kettle and rushed out of the nose. • He thought of the power of steam, and wondered what would be the effect if he were to fasten down the lid and stop up the nose. He concluded that the’effect would be to burst the kettle.— “How much power, then/’ thought he, “must there be in steam." As soon as he was let out of prison he tried an experiment.— “I have taken,” he writes, “a’con non, and filled it three-quarters full of water, stopping firmly up both the touch hole and the mouth and, having made a good fire uti dei it, within twenty-four hqutt it burst and made a gpeat crack. ; After shis the marquis contrived a rude machine, which, by «fee power of steam, drove up wate.r to the height of forty feet. *** • About one hundred years after this, a little boy. whose name was James Watt, and who lived in Scotland, satf one day looking at a kettle of boiling water, and hold ing a spoon before the steam, that rushed out of the nose. His aunt thought he was idle and said: “Is it not a shame to waste your time so ?” But James" was not idle; he was t’uftkmg. of the power of the steam in moving the sppon. . « James grew to be r? good and T I gfeat man, a «d contrived those | wonderiui jmpi vvc«l? hi tne I steam engine which it so useful in our day, What will not the steam engine do? It propels, it elevates, it lowers, it pumps, it drainsj it pulls it drives, it blasts, it digs, it cuts, it saws, it planes, it bores, it blows, it forges, it hammers, it Slfes, it polishes, it rivets,it cards, i it spins, it winds, it weaves, it coins, it prints, and it does more things than one can think of. In tile year 1807, Robert Fulton put the first steamboat on the Hudson rvier, and in 1820 a lo comotive steam carriage Went over a railroad in England. And this is the story of some hot water. From so small a be ginning as the steam from a tea kettle resulted the steam engine the steamboat and the locomotive engine. RICH WITHOUT MONEY. Many a man is rich without a cent of money. Thousands of men with nothing in their pock ets are rich. A man born with a good sound constitution, a good stomach, a good heart and good limbs, and pretty good head-piece is rich. Good bones are better than gold, tough muscles than silver, and nerves that flash fire and carry energy to every func tion are better thaii houses and l?«nus. It is better than a landed estate to have the right tba right kind of father and niother. Good breeds and bad breeds are among men as really as among herds and horses. Education may do much to check evil tendencies or to de velop good ones; but it is a great thing to inherit the right propor tion of faculties to start with. — The man is rich who has a good disposition—who is naturally kind, patient, cheerful, hopeful, and who has a flavor of wit and tun in his composition. The hard est thing to get on with in this life is a man’s own self. A cross, selfish fellow—a desponding and complaining fellow, a timid and care-burdened man, these are all born deformed on the side. Their feet do ,fibt limp, but their thoughts flo. 1 <» General Ross, so th Volunteers, feelingly denies that the murdea of the four Modoc prisoners was done by his troops lie says the nearest camp of the volunteers at the time was not less than ten miles distant»from ■ the spot where the assassinations were committed. t Stubbs wonders where all the ■ pillow cases go to. He says be i never asked a girl what she was ; making while engaged In white > sewing without being told it was • ’ a piltiw va.se. r THE STORY OF A HERMIT. i • ■ There died, near the village 61 Ringtown, Schuykill county, neai • the northern boundary, not lone since, a man named Harper, the greater part of whose life was ► passed in Voluntary hermitage ie . rocks an d mountains of Schuylkill and Columbia coun ties. He first appeared about for ty years ago in West Penn Town ship, Schuylkill county, where, in a wild and lyifrequented spot in the mountains he built a rude hut and shut himself out from all com munications with the outside world. Although having the ap pearance of a man far advanced in life, it has since been ascer ed that he was not yet forty years of age. Who or what he was no one knew. He very rarely left his lonely retreat, and then only to obtain certain necessaries of life. How he lived or what he did, were matters of which the in habitants of the town were entire ly ignorant. Old residents re member his coming to those parts and say that he truly “dwelt with solitude and walked the rocks and forest like a wolf.” Young men grew to old age and died,and still Harper remained in his rude hut. At last the hermit not having been seen for some lime by any of the villagers, it began to be whispered about that he was dead. His hut was visited, but, although it was empty, and evi dently had been for’some time, nothing was -found to indicate that the hermit had died. A short time afterward, there appeared in the village of Ring town a quearold man, with long, snowy locks and beard, bent form and wrinkled visage. He was bare headed, clad in ragged gar ments, and walked with a long, smooth staff. Purchasing a few groceries in the village, he disap- • peared. Some months afterward he again came to the village,made similar purchases and went away. This time, the curiosity of the vil lagers being excited to know more of the singular being.he was followed. He took a rough and narrow path, which ran some few miles over the mountain, and led to a deep, rocky gorge, near the boundary of Schuylkill and Co lumbia - gorge was a dark and damp cavern, into which the old man entered, and fudiejre it was ,found he dwelt.— This was the herjnit of West Penn Township. Ife flftdjt was thought left his. former retreat to fmd. tmofe perfect solitude anti isota pion- * 4 I Tile severity of the present win ter, and the great depth of the snow, a short time since compell ed the old man to leave his moun tain fastness, as he was on the verge of starvation. He wander ed over into Columbia county, where he found an asylum in the house of a kind farmer, where he i died a lew davp after he was eiv-1 en shelter. <sn his death bed he gave an account of his life, and the causes which led him to put himself beyOqd the pale of a soci ety of whibh he had once bfeen a bright ornament. His narrative was substantially as follows: His name was Janies Harper,— When he died he was within a few weeks of reaching the eighti eth anniversary of his birth. Be tween forty and fifty years ago he was the senior partner of Harper & Bro., hardware merchants,Mar ket street, Philadelphia. His brother was some years his jubior and their firm stood among the leading ones of the city. They lived in style in Chesnut street, and,-neither of them being mar ried. their only sister superintend ed tneir household affairs. About the year 1835 James Har per went to Europe, leaving the business in charge of his brother, io whom he placed the utmost confidence, fie spent two years traveling in thq old SQ’Jiixry, dur ing which time he married an ac complished.beautiful and wealthy young English lady; a member of one df the leading’families. For some iiionths previous to his de parture from London, Mr. Harper had not heard from his brother — his letters, which had been regu lar and cheering, suddenly ceas ing. Apprehensive of something wrong, the senior partner deter mined to forego further sau nt er ings in Europe, and shortly alter his marriage, embarked for Phil adelphia, accompanied by his wife. When the voyage was half over, and the despondency that had seized Mr. Harper when ho left London had boon somewhat dispelled, the small pox broke out among some emigrant families in the steerage. The plague spread in the cabin passengers, and the young wife of Mr. Harper was a victim, and died in the greatest agonv. and hbr body was cast into the sea. This was the first thrust into the heart of the returning merchant, and prepared him for others that awaited him. Alter lying in quarantine some time af ter reaching port, the passengers of the plague-ship were permitted to land. A few hours afterward Mr. Har per learned that he was a ruined man. His brother, shortly alter - his senior went to Europe, fell in j to dissolute hands, and in a year ( and a half had driven the firm in I to bankruptcy, and in a fit of fles !pe rat ion blew out his brrins in a ' gambling hell. The sister died in VOL. L-N . 2 a few weeks of grief, arid all the property of the ’firm was sold by the sheriff. Mr. Harper found ' himself without a relative or a sin r gle relative, and barely a friend, ? where he had left a prosperous e business, a happy home, and huh s dreds of flattering acquaintances. 3 Overwhelmed with misfortune, 3 broken-hearted and desertedj he determined to put himself forever • away from all contact with the ■ world and live alone with his bit -1 terness. He kept his vow sacxed -1 ly until he knew that death was 1 stealing upon him, when he felt - - that he would like to close his 3 eyes upon the world surrounded, ■ if possible, by fellow beings who L would minister to his last wants ‘ and give him.a Christian burial. 3 AV hat must have been the great ’ weight of sorrow that sat upon L this unfortunate man’s soul to in ’ duce him to forsake the world 1 and its manifold blessings and 5 live in bitter solitude, alone with ■ his misery, during an ordinary 5 lifetime? Ilis case certainly has ’ no known parallel in the history 5 of our race. i . J HOW GEN. GORDON SAVED [ GFN. SHERIDAN’S LIFE. * i In Georgia I heard an incident ! in connection with Lieutenant , General Sheridan, which Little , Plril. will read with some surprise and lay down the paper with some ’ grateful feelings toward the gal lant soldier who saved his life. ’ The night previous to the surren der of Lee at Gen. John B. Gordon, who commanded . Stonewall Jackson’s old corps, General Fitz Hugh Lee cora ’ manding the cavalay, and Gener ( al Longstreet held a eonsulation with General R. E. Lee. At this consu tdion .it was agreed that ! General Gordon should try the . Federal strength on the following day. Sheridan Was its command i opposite Gordon. In accordance with the programme, made his demonstration the next day and was met by Sheridan’s cavalry, repulsed, but finding Sheridan well supported by large numbers of infantry fell back and sent . this intelligence to General R. E. Lee. Upon its receipt General Lee ordered the firing to cease, and displayed the white flag, un der which the surrender was sub sequently made. During the cessation of hostilities, and while Generals Grant and Lee were in consulation. General Sheridan, j with a large retinue of officers q k and men—about one hundred in all—was seen approaching Gen hues. Os course this cavalcade, as it came daslung across the plain, challenged the attention of Gordon’s entire force. Chancing to turn his head, Gen eral Gordon saw a long, lank Mis sissippian within a few yards of him deliberately aiming his cocked rifle on the approaching horsemen. dashed at ( the uiorhsman and rode him down ( with an exclamation more em- < phatic than refined, “What do , you mean, sir?” thundered the i irate Gordon; “don’t you know firing has ceased by my order ?” “I know, General,” replied Mis- 1 sissippi, as he gathered himself up, “but I thought it were a ridg rnent acomin agin us, and I jist sighted that short-legged feller thar, and if you hadn’t come up- I’d a fetched him from whar he sot, and he's been a powerful heap of good to the Yanks.” That man was one of the best shot in the division, and never failed to kill his object, when de liberate aim was had, Gordon turned to meet Sheridan, and Buchanan Read’s hero has never known how near his life came to going out with the rebellion. — General Gordon is now United Slates Senator from Georgia.— Philadelphia Ptcw Letler. Oh, what is it to be a lawyer's clerk! Owing to the acuteness learned in this high position ft young Englishman has bfeen actually enabled to escape un scathed from that danger .us af ’ fair, a breach of promise suit,— He had paid his addresses chiefly • by letter and in the most tender and poetic strain, to a pretty girl ‘ who, when his affection grew less • was to prudent and enebgbtic not ■ to demand golden comfort for her • wounded heart. Her lawyer heard her case with pleasant anticipa tions of damages : but alas! when : he examined the love letters of : the lawver’s clerk he found his i client was put by them entirely : out of court. The ingenious : voung man had invariably signed t himself, “Believe me, my own i dearest, divinest, duckiest An . gelina. your fondest, most devo i ted (but without prejudice) Tom my” The legil phrase, which . the gentle Angelina didn’t iin . derstand, had saved him. r 1 * r A Kentucky heifer was lately r sold in England for slo,o<Xk » Three ladies that no ofie ever I met. A lady that used powder, ft ‘ lady who flirted and a lady who - was going out much this winter. r i There are over three hundred r thousand graves of soldiers, who i were killed in the late war, in the - national cemeteries, nearly one t half of which are marked im i known. ■ - ' .. . . • ■ ■ ■ — ..U. OF EVERY DESCRIPTION Promptly and Nkatly Exkcutbd at THE ADVANCE JOB OFFICE, At Reasonable Prices. GIVE US A CALL, PROSPECTUS OF THE r . . ■ 1 ' : NOKCROSS ADVANCE, ■ I ■ A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, ■ PUBLISHED AT Norcross, Georgia. ■ 0 The ADVANCE will give all the latest news both local and general, besides sev eral columns of Editorials, on interesting subjects, ' ' ‘ The Agricultural interests of the South will be fully discussed, and remedies sug gested that wiH be of vast many who are not “up with the times.” This branch of industry needs a etimutoa or something to force it up with the pro gressiveuess of the age. IION. JAS. P. SIMMONS, and PROF. JAS. U. VINCENT, have connected themselves With the paper as associate Editors. With their reputa tation as writers, we can promise much interesting and valuable original matter. Communications on subjects of general interest are respectfully solicited, espe, ... = cially from different sections of the State, It in our desire to deversify the news, and treat on all subjects that will promote tha prosperity of she country. It is earnestly that the ADVANCE havA A Large Circulation, and to obtain it we asi that each subscri. her ’ ; . . * GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oooofeooooooooo 000000000000000 ooooocoooooooo 000 ACT AS AGENT 000 000000000000000 00000000000000 000000000000000 00000000000000 and send us a list from their respective communities. Subscription, one year,?2 Oft 44 Kin Months. * - - -1 2!i In CIul» of Ten - - - - - - - - 06 “ Twenty -80 00 K3T*see Advertising rates on first page. Money Remittances muat bo made by P. O; ORDER OR EXPRESS, Address JAS. L. HOLLIFIELD, Publisher, W. M. PENfiCETON & CO,f WHITEHALL STREET, , d . **»- Are and opening daily a fine ae; sortment of Blunk Books, Initial Paper, Writing paper, Wrapping Paper; Chalk Crayons, Bill Files, Letter Files, Invoice Fifes, Kvelopes Pencils, Ink, Ink Stands, Steel Pens, Visiting cards, Gold Pens; Mucilage, tiomimfes Playing Cards, Bill heods, Copying Books, Copying Presses Copying Ink, Letter Beads, Printers Cards, Flat Papers, Slates, Rack Gammon Boards And everything usually kept in A Firss Class Stationery House. As we make a specialty of Stationery, of course we are prepared’to sell as cheap a« any house South, and guarantee to do so. Orders for Job Printing. Ruling and Binding of tvery description solicited, guaranteeing work to be as good and prices a« low as any house South. W. M. PENDLETON k CO., Vi Whitehall St., Atlanta, Ga.