Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

2 A TERRIBLE TERMAGANT There are few experiences in life more tantaliz ing than the one of being nagged at every day and almost constantly. Bnt this is the fate which had befallen Tom and Billie Cranston. They were a hapless pair, in that they had lost their mother long before their baby eyes had caught and retained the image of her madonna face. Their father, having been happily married the first time, repeated the experiment at the earliest available moment, and endowed Tom and Billie with one of the most Vixenish step-mothers who ever ruled a household. Tom and Billie dreaded her; for she was, in ev ery sense, dreadful. Her long suit was saying hard things all the time to everybody. Her speech was as cutting as a north-east wind, and her sarcasm would change the expression on the countenance of a corpse. Nothing had ever been known to stay in the house with her all day except a pet alligator and a half-tamed house-cat. Mr. Cranston only paid her “pop” calls, and Tom and Billie never ventured beneath the roof until Mrs. Cranston’s ceaseless tirade of bitterness had spent itself in sheer exhaustion—then they crept in noiselessly and stole to bed. They called the home of their paternal ancestor, “Devil’s Den,” and always alluded to Mrs. Cran ston as “Panny,” which was their native abbre viation for pandemonium. Tom and Billie worked in the fields each dav, performing the services of laborers on the farm, never even guessing that thev were undergoing some rather bittei- experiences. With the philoso phy of childhood, they accepted their surroundings as a matter of course, and, like Mark Tapley,, “came out strong” without being conscious of it. They were the kind of heroes who never have any monuments, members of a nobility who never wear the insignia of rank. They never ventured bodily into the house after a day of toil—oh, no; they loved peace too well. They always preferred to creep first under the house—far under—where they listened to learn the state of “Fanny’s” disposition. If they heard her rattling the pots and pans, yelling at the cat and excoriating some inoffensive neighbor, they waited patiently for the storm to spend its force, then they crept around the back way, and diplo matically kept their own counsel. Mr. Cranston had become cognizant of this cus tom of Tom’s and Billie’s, but not knowing any better plan to suggest and being a lover of peace himself, he wisely refrained from making any com ments or suggestions. On one evening in particular, Tom and Billie, after a hard day’s toil, turned their steps towards this house of confusion. Tired and very hungry they approached the house cautiously, stopping, ever and anon, to listen. Finally Tom spoke: “At it again!” “At what?” asked Billie. “Fussin’,” said Tom. “0!” replied Billie, “I thought you meant she was at bein’ quiet. I know she was once when we came home. Let’s crawl un der.” “Yes,” answered Tom; “we can’t go in, you know.” Mrs. Cranston "was holding forth at the top of her voice. The cat had even crawled up on the •corner of the house-top, and was sitting there pa tiently in the moonlight. Billie hesitated a moment. His face assumed a wistful expression. “Tom, I’m mighty hungry—ain’t you?” “Course I am,” answered Tom; “but what can we do?” With a boldness that actually startled Tom, Bil lie replied, “Le’s risk one eye at “Panny.” Tom turned pale with fear; but an empty stomach is a counsellor of rash deeds. “You go first,” he said. Their reckless courage could not have been ex celled by Pickett himself. They resolutely entered By Arthur L. Hardy The Golden Age for April 5, 1906 the hallway, and made a dash for the kitchen. Alas, and alack, Mrs. Cranston spied them. “Here you come, you good for nothing scalawags, at this time o’ night.” “Billie,” Tom whispered; le’s grab sumpin’ t’ eat and run.” They made a dive for the cup-board, snatched up a dilapidated looking ham bone and a handful of biscuit, and dashed out into the night. They sought an old work bench out in the silent grove, and fin ished their insufficient repast, then circled back noiselessly to the house. Under the house, with the fortitude of their pre historic forbears—the cave dwellers—Tom and Bil lie went. There they lay, fighting the insidious ap proach of slumber, and the gnawing attack of a hunger only known to healthy youth. Mrs. Cranston held forth at great length and with much bitterness until the clock struck nine. Then the parental instinct asserted itself, and Mr. Cranston grew uneasy about Tom and Billie. He went out without speaking, and decided to seek them first under the house. He dared not call to them; for he had a mortal dread of discovering their hiding place to “Panny;” so he went crawl ing up to where they were concealed. Mrs. Cran ston, meanwhile, was making the night hideous with vitriol and spleen. Billie and Tom heard their father’s approach— their hearts were stirred with pity. In chorus they cried, “Papa, is she after you, too?” “No,” re plied Mr. Cranston, as the humor of the situation dawned upon him, “she’s been making a good long speech, and I thought I’d come under here and let her bring down the house.” “Le’s get out quick, before she does,” said Tom, who dreaded her unlimited possibilities. “Bill Arp.” {Continued from first page) twenty-two preceding it makes it still longer. I was born in 1826, the year in which the first suc cessful trial of steam was made. I have lived to see it revolutionize the world, run its course, and be supplanted by electricity. The post office sys tem, has grown to perfection, to be largely set aside by the telephone and telegraph. In my young days there were no steel pens, no matches, and but very few things that we now enjoy. I think all things are tending to the betterment of mankind.” During the winter of 1903, Major Smith had an attack of Grippe, followed by other complications, from which he never rallied, and the following Au gust (23rd) his grand spirit went to its Maker. His funeral exercises were conducted from the First Presbyterian Church at Cartersville, of which he was an elder and a consistent member. His re mains were laid to rest in Oak Hill Cemetery. “The bright, the diamond-pointed pen, Has fallen from his weary fingers, And on the lips which spoke high truth to men, Death’s lowly silence lingers!” English dispatches report the news that the Rus sian government has prepared a naval programme involving the expenditure of $100,000,000 during the next two years, of which amount British ship builders will secure a good share. The sum of $25,- 000,000, it is said has been allocated for four first class battleships similar to those now building for Japan. The Rev. W. A. Doodwit, rector of old Bruton church at Williamsburg, Va., announces that the Bishop of London may assist at the ceremonies attendant upon the restoration of the church and preach the sermon at the consecration, when the Bible presented by King Edward and the lectern to be given by President Roosevelt, will be used for the first time. News of the Week. The capital of Alaska is to be moved from Sitka to Juneau. Andrew Carnegie has given $15,000 to Millsap College, Jackson, Miss., with the usual condition, which was promptly met. Mrs. Margaret Kelley, who has just celebrated her 117th birthday in New York, is thought to be the oldest woman in the world. Scottish emigrants to the. number of 2,900, left the Clyde March 24, on three steamships bound for the United States and Canada. The house committee upon naval affairs has de cided upon a new battleship to cost $6,000,000, ex clusive of armor and armament. Mrs. Maude Bellington Booth has announced that she will retire from t l, e lecture platform indefinitely because of a threatened collapse. All Andalusia, the garden of Spain, whose land is owned by a few grandees, is on the point of star vation, famine stalking in the country districts. Dr. Jessie M. McGgregor, who died at her home in Denver, Colorado, last week, was the possessor of the highest degree ever attained by a woman physician. An Italian colony of twenty-five families, just from their native land, will be located near Way cross, Ga., the men given employment at a saw mill, and the women and children in the fields. 'Count Zebblin is to build another air ship at Manyell on the shores of Lake Constance. The Ger man war office has all the necessary materials and a large staff of experts and workmen at the ser vice of the count. The son born to Mr. and Mrs. John D. Rockefel ler, Jr., at West Fifty-fourth street, near Fifth Avenue, is heir presumptive to the greatest fortune in the world, for the baby at its christening, will be John D. Rockefeller, 111. Marion Crawford, Count Soderini and Professor Clementi are at work on a life of Pope Leo XIII, to fill four volumes. They possess a great many un published documents which Leo himself gave to Count Soderini for this purpose. The Countess, Rene Temple de Rougemont, for merly Miss Edith Devereaux Clapp, has established an American laundry at her husband’s country place in France. The countess’ friends patronize the laundry and pay good prices. A movement has been begun among the members of the thatrical profession in America to contrib ute to an Anglo-American testimonial to Ellen Terry, the actress, on the occasion of a jubilee planned on the 50th anniversary of her career as an actress. The house committee on military affairs has au thorized a favorable report on a bill authorizing the secretary of war to accept for the government a tract of land near Greenville, Tenn., where lie the remains of Andrew Johnson, late president of the United States, and establish the same as a national cemetery of the fourth class. The illness of John D. and William, the two great geniuses of the Standard Oil trust, has brought the affairs of that gigantic aggregation of capiatl to a critical stage. Men in the financial district say that the Standard has seen its greatest days, and that from now on it will cease to be the aggressive force it has been heretofore in financial ventures.