Newspaper Page Text
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1924.
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DDL m.
VICTOR COPYRIGHT ROUSSEAU by W<S,CHAPMAN l fL. \
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1
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*
! I He swung upon hls heel and went
out of the room, leaving her gripping
tab,e flercel >’ * n her humiliation.
The dark-haired girl, who had been
fussing in a corner. c^tme up to her.
He’s a beast!" she’ exclaimed pas
slonately. “He hates women—decent
women. My! If he’d dared to speak
that way to me I’d have told him what
I thought of him. right in the middle
of the operation. I don’t care for sty
body when my temper’s up. I eouid
tell you a few things I’ve heard about
him know if I were minded to. Do ySa
be went on a five years’ spree
once?"
“1 don’t care vvbat he did!’ cried
Joan passionately.
"Well, I guess you could make It
your business to know,” answered the
other. “A girl’s got to* fight her way,
the same as a man. He threw up his
job and just went away for five years,
drinking and living with tramps, and
then had the nerve to come back as
if nothing had happened. I got it from
a girl that used to be friendly with
him. He’s— M
She broke off abruptly as the or
derly appeared with his rubber broom
and bucket.
i What are you going to do about it?”
Inquired the girl in a low voice. ”1
reckon you don’t want to forfeit your
diploma any more than the rest of us.
Listen! You go and see him.”
“Never I” said Joan.
"Don’t be a fool. Miss Wentworth!
You go and see him at his house. It’s
what anyone would do in your place.
Fool him by making him think he can
do wliat lie likes with you; play with
him and hold him off by book or crook
until you’re graduated, and then
laugh at him. I’d do It If I had to.
My! If you heard some of the stories
that are going round—” «
The head nurse beckoned at the
door. “The lady superintendent
wants to see you at once, Miss Went
worth," she said. "You’re to go right
info her office.”
She looked at, Joan resentfully. Her
face was quite composed again, hut
her eyes were reddened. She knew
that Lancaster had been at fault, but
she had seen Joan's blunder, too.
Miss SymOns was one of those women
who can acquire theTacultydof i man’s
strength without losing their own sex.
She was a,lower of i s trcngth t o wa r d
-weakness.' hut she had no pity for a
lapse of duty.
Joan walked the dreary length of
the corridor to the lady superintend
ent’s room. The white-haired woman
; was seated at her desk, pretending to
\ : be making up her accounts and com
posing herself for the interview.
“Miss Wentworth!’’ she begun, turn
| | peared Ing round at the in door. her chair 'You as have Joan made ap
I Doctor Lancaster very angry. He said
J you are totally inefficient - What was
It that happened this morning?"
The ether made' me faint rind 1
couldn’t see the Instruments for a mo
ment, and Doctor Lancaster happened
to want a scalpel quickly,” answered
Joan.
"Well, it's a great pity,” said the
H g /and other, "because had to It was somebody your first day
we get to take
$ § Miss Martin's place and I selected you
because I relied on you particularly.
|| Anyway, Joan looked you are suspended. her stupefied.
at "You
mean—that—1 am to leave the hospl
, tal and lose my diploma?" she asked.
“1 don’t know yet,” answered the
lady superintendent evasively. “I sup
I pose Doctor Lancaster will decide
that later after he has laid the matter
1 f before the board at tlieir next meet
ing and looked over your record. Any
way, Miss Wentworth, you may as
well take a holiday for a week or so
until you hear from us.”
She turned back to her books while
Joan, after looking at her for a mo
ment in Silence, turned and went into
the corridor. She made her way
toward the hospital entrance. And the
great wooden arch, through which she
had passed hundreds of times without
noticing It. suddenly became vivid
with detail'; the hospital, which had
been a part of her unconscious life,'
looked strange and new to her.
Chapter II
Joan had a room in a nurses’ board
ing house a few minutes’ walk away.
She walked mechanically homeward,
hardly even yet realizing the magni
tude of the blow which had befallen
her. Avonmouth lay almost deserted
in the noontide glare. The shuttered
houses, gay with striped awnings,
looked down on the white, dusty
streets. The little park that contained
the Confederate monument was bright
with geraniums, but the grass was
parched and withered, and the feeble
efforts of an automatic sprinkler
seemed almost instantly absorbed by
the thirsty ground,
Joan made her way toward an over-
hanging tree, brushed away a prickly
caterpillar from a seat beneath It, and
sat down. She was trying to estimate
the magnitude of the catastrophe that
had happened to her, to free herself
from the stupefied wonder and pas
sionate resentment that held her. Two
hours before life had seamed reason
ably bright; now its entire course was
changed. For she did not doubt that
the lady superintendent had been try
ing- to soften the news of her dis
missal.
Her mind ran back to the beginning
of all things for her—her father’s
death. That had happened ten'years
before, and the mortgage on the
estate, ruined after the war, had
S rown like a spreading sore, eating
away field after field, until it swal
lowed everything except nine hundred
dollars. After the enforced sale, Mrs.
Wentworth and her daughter had gone
to Avonmouth for the sole’reason that
the mother remembered a wealthy
godmother there, distantly related,
whose activities she hoped to enlist on
behalf of her daughter. It was char
acteristlc of her that she should not
have known the woman had died six
years previously.
' Still, Avonmouth was the nearest
'•ge town In which a girl, flung on
file world untrained, might hope to
rapport two people. Joan had long
before wanted to be a nurse. She de
cided to attempt to enter a hospital;
but now her mother’s slow, mortal
Illness kept her nursing her at home.
Six months after their arrival Mrs.
Wentworth died. What remained of
their nine hundred dollars after the
doctor’s- and funeral expenses hyd
been paid would suffice for Joan’s
merest needs until she had graduated
from the Southern hospital. But the
physician who attended Mrs. Went
worth in her last illness had secured
the girl a position as a probationer,
and Joan was ns happy as she could
expect to be. Since that date he had
moved away, and Joan was altogether
alone.
At home they hnd known hardly
anyone, for the whole region was in
that condition of resettlement that be
gan in the seventies and is still pro
ceeding, Their friends had scattered
to the north and west; their letters
had long since ceased. Prosperity,
through the nation, had left a
ri(!p( - of poverty between the
swaths of Its progress through the
foothills of the hack country. In Avon
foo'dli Mrs. Wentworth’s illness, and
a fter"ard. the hospital work, hnd kept
the girl both from making friends and
from the realization of her need of
them. Her whole mind was set upon
obtaining that diploma which would
mean an assured living, and before
her eyes was ever the spectacle of
- such poverty as she had known at
home among others and had seen .ap
proaching her mother. After she
graduated, perhaps, life might begin
to unfold before her eyes. But even
this she realized only vaguely; she
lived altogether ln the moment.
In the town of forty thousand In
habitants Joan was as Isolated as she
had been in the latter years at home.
Her life was as unsophisticated and
as simple, and she was so unacquaint
ed with the conditions and circum
stances of existence that her dismissal
seemed to her an Irreparable disaster.
She had won good opinions, she hnd
been praised, and it seemed monstrous
that her faintness at a critical moment
should have ruined her whole life
prospects. What made the tragedy
the less tolerable was the admixture
of the farcical. There was a simple
and absurd explanation. Mrs. Webb’s
colored cook, Amanda, had quarreled
with her mistress that morning, and
Joan had had to go to the hospital
without her breakfast.
She got up and walked slowly home
ward without having resolved her
problem. Inside the boarding house
the air was like a furnace, and the
smell of cooking was triumphant and
dominant.
Inside the kitchen, seen through the
open door, was Amanda, the cook, and
Mrs. Webb, the landlady.
“Here's Amanda again!" Mrs. Webb
-called to Joan. "My dear, the idea
of your running away without your
breakfast this morning! Now you sit
right down and have your lunch, Miss
Wentworth I”
Joan was not hungry, but It was lm
possible to oppose the resolute Insist
ence of Mrs. Webb, backed by the
penitent cook, whose black face, as
she flitted from the kitchen to the
dining room, radiated remorse and
good Intentions.
“One enn’t get Along without the
proper food at the proper times,” said
Mrs. Webb as she set down the
dishes before Joan. “But 1 call It real
sensible of you to have come home
farly. Some girls wouldn't have
thought of that.”
^ Joan choked suddenly, and Mrs.
Webb perceived her distress, She
bent over her amd placed a kitchen-
GRIFFIN DAILY NEWS
roughened hand upon her shoulder.
“My dear, what is it? What Is the
matter? Something gone wrong at
that old hospital?" she asked, Tell
me now. honey!”
“It Isn’t anything. Mrs. Webb," said
Joan, striving valiaftly, to keep back
her tears, Well, then. I’m—I’m dis
charged.”
Mrs. Webb withdrew her hand and
placed It upon one hip. bringing the
other Into corresponding position. She
glared at Joan, ns the convenient
focus of her Indignation.
■ I never heard of such a thing!" she
cried. "Who’s dared to discharge you.
Miss Worn worth? Why, It was only
yesterday Miss Gray was saying you
were the only <me in the hospital that
attended to her work Instead of trying
to make dates with the doctors! I’ve
bad the nurses two years now, Miss
Wentworth, and they ain’t a snap bet
ter than the salesladies I used to keep.
A pack of featherheads! If some of
them had been discharged ’twould
serve them right But uot you, my
dear. It’s that old Doctor Lancaster!”
,1 It was, and I think he was right
I felt faint from the smell of ether—’’
"Of course you did!" cried Mrs.
Webb. “I always knew the day would
come when you would. Those smells
make my head go round and round
whenever I take the short cut that
side of the park. I always said you
weren't cut out for that sort of work.
It’s all right for them strong he-borse
girls that’s made for It, but what you
need Is to marry some good man whc
can take care of you. not to go nurs
ing a lot of dock-hands and seeing
people’s insides opened up. It’s my
betief that wtien the Lord put our in
sides inside rind our outsides outside
he meant ’em to stay there.” snorted
Mrs. Webb.
•‘Well,’’ said Joan wearily, “it's end
ed now. And 1 don't know what I'm
going to do."
“But I say it isn't ended I" cried
Mrs Webb, concentrating all her in
dignation against Lan caster In a ven
omous glare at Joan. “It's only just
begun. If that old 1 loctor Lancaster
dares to discharge you. I'm going to
tell everything I know about him.
Miss Wentworth, that man’s no more
fi} to be at the h#m! of a hospital, with
Indies under him. (lion I e ? tit to fly.
What is he? Nothing hut a fast fiver
and a common drunkard." m
“Never mind, Mrs. Webb!"
“But I do mind. To think of a man
like that, who went about with a
gang of commdn tramps for years.
Miss Wentworth, just breaking away
from his job and hoboing it up and
down the country and then coming
back and getting bis jolt again and
acting as he does! All that I say Is
common knowledge. Five years after
the hospital had seen the last of him
in he walks, as bold as brass, and puts
rite head doctor out, and says the hos
pital's hik and he's going to run It
again. And hint being ln charge of
the nurses—him that runs ’round in
itis auto with every pack of cheap ac
tresses that comes to Avonmouth! 1
know what they are! 1 haven't been
in the boarding house business twenty
years for nothing!" V --
Mrs. Weiib was becoming Incoherent.
Joan succeeded in stopping the flow
of vilification at last, mainly because
.Mrs. Webb had exhausted It.
“Now I tell you wliat you are golnc
to do, my dear,” she said, ‘You’ri
going straight to that old Lancaster's
house and you are going to ask for
vonr place back. And you're going to
get it. too.’’
“Mrs. Webb, how can 1 do that?”
“How can you do it? Why, you can
manage him all right, my dear. Yes.
I guess 'tis going to he all right. I
suppose he lost his temper. When a
man leads the sort of life he does he
hasn’t much good humor left the
morning after. I know about that.
You just go to him and act as If you
didn’t care much and let him think
you look on him as just the finest man
in the world.”
"Please. Mrs. Webb!” expostulated
Joan; and as she spoke there came
back into her mind vividly the sinister
advice of the dark-haired girl.
"You’ve only got to let him see your
face, my dear,” continued the land
lady. “You see. It’s this way. When
he’s ln the hospital he’s thinking
about his work. A nurse is Just a
nurse to him then. But after hi*
work’s over she’s different. Now don’t
tell me you can't make that man do
anything you want him to, because
I know better.”
Joan crimsoned. "I couldn’t think
of such a thing,” she protested.
“And why not?” Inquired the other.
“If you’ve got good looks, ain’t you
going to use them? It isn’t as If I
wns asking you to do anything wrong,
is it? You’d be a precious fool If you
((j<J)$’t. Any girl can twist a man
round her finger, especially If she
looks weepy.”
Joan looked at Mrs. Webb ln great
distress. She rose, but the landlady
followed her toward the door.
"You see, my dear,” she went on.
"if you were given that sort of face
by the Almighty, why shouldn’t you
use It to get plain, common Justice
done you? It's your Job that’s at
stake, and you ull alone In the world.
All you’ve got to do Is to make him
forget that lie's dealing with a nurse.
There Isn't anybody would think twice
about It. Didn't Amanda do It this
morning,'coming to me with her big.
black, honest face, and looking at me
so that 1 had to take her back, aa I
was glad enough to, do? You go
straight and see that old Lancaster
and try It, that’s all I"
A nurse passed the window and
came up the steps.
•’Mrs. Webb, you won’t say a word
about what I’ve told you to the others,
please?” asked Joan.
She flew upstairs and, flinging her
< 1 < >WD °5 ^er bad, stared opt di»-
mally toward the monument. The ca
tastrophe had swept her little, unshel
tered world away. The sense of her
loneliness ®*ept over her like a black
cLoud, appalling her. She was cut off
from life, and utterly helpless outside
the medium In which she had lived.
Because she felt this sense of home
sickness, her outraged pride began to
vanish before the terrors that her
Imagination conjured up. Starvation,
the ultimate terror or her childish
days on the estate, which like a living J
thing had gnawed into her mother’s
nine hundred dollars, seemed lncred- ,
!h1y real hnd near. She must ask for
lier position back!
She must face Lancaster ln hls
home, humble her pride, and how to
him ; hut she watched the sun decline
and the shadow's lengthen, and for a
rime she could not bring herself to
her task.
Whin.....strengthened her atlastwas
the realisation that tier status inns! be
settled before she faced the day
nurses coming home off duty. She
slipped on her eloak and wept out of
the house softly, and to escape the
landlady’s attentions Joan went has
tily toward Lancaster’s house.
* She had passed it almost daily on
tier journeys to and from the hospital.
It was an ordinary brick house in a
new block at the north end of the
park, and commonplace enough, but
now, to her excited eyes, it seemed to
reflect the grim personality of its
owner in the staring windows, with
■the shining door knobs of brass, and
the brass name plate. Her heart was
beating with panic, and it was with
difficulty that she contrived to press
the beil and to remain unt4l the door
was opened.
A white attendant confronted her—
a sullen, undersized man with square
%
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] i. a.
5^ XU
V
'i
Hi ,--A 1
5
w
f.* \f
“I Must See Him; It Is Important,”
Faltered the Girl.
shoulders, who scowled at her as he
urasr blocking th#" Mapr ——
“Doctor Lancaster?” asked Joan.
“He doesn’t see patients after five,”
answered the man.
“I must see him. It is important."
faltered the girl.
“Well, I’ll find out If he can see
you,” - the fellow grumbled. “Walk in
If >;ou want to.”
______________
He had hot recognized Joan's uni
form beneath the cloak. She gave him
her card and went into the waiting
room. There the sense of the terror
which made that place its domain, the
accumulated fears of all who had ever
waited there for the approaching ver
dict, seemed to leap out at her.
Then Joan heard Lancaster’s voice
in the next room, which was divided
from be waiting room by folded
doors. It was audible as a ‘•bass
rumble, emerging occasionally into a
distinguishable sound. Lancaster was
talking with somebody, and lie was
growing angry. That was an ill omen
of what was to come!
Joan braced her nerves. She was
anything but a coward, and. having
made up her mind, she intended to
carry her scheme through.
Suddenly Lancaster’s voice was
raised In violent altercation.
‘‘A nice mess you've made of every
thing!" he cried, I've tolerated you
too long. I've been a fool, but I've
finished with you now. Go back where
you came from!’’
Another voice spoke in indistinct,
tones. ' It was -that of a man, and It
was almost abject In contrast with
Lancaster's violence.
“I’ve finished with you, 1 .ell you!”
cried Lancaster. ' "I’ve borne this bur
den-long enough. You can get out of
my house. You can get out of my
life." *
"I’ve borne It long enough, too,” re
piled the other, doggedly. “Who
started it? Who made the first pro
posal?”
“I did, out of kindness to you. And
how have you repaid me?’
"By placing myself, soul and body,
at your service,’’ retorted the second
man, aroused Into some show of spirit.
“Who picked you out of the gutter
and set you on your feet?” rejoined
the doctor. “Answer that 1 Yon can’t 1
You know you can’t! Where would
you be today If It were not for me?”
The second man said something in a
low voice.
retorted Jr “Mv..rs 7 Lancaster. ui * inf i i V I tell yon—
whnts that/ The white attendant
was speaking at the door. Joan reo
ognized hls rasping voice.
“No! No 1” tried Lancaster, vio
lently.' “I see nobody, why can't
these women come during my hours?
Aren’t they posted plainly enough
cjmn the card In my window? Tell
(To Be Continued)
Moonlight u __ and Mockingbird
Late ln the Ml * ht ^ ro ™
t ** e l 14>,nt the tip-top twig of the tall
eBt tre *> f ^ e P olnt above the erossanws
0 telephone po e *** p<?ak of ’ ,e
bam—flits a mockingbird, pouring
tor J^ hls S “ B *’
The . m W ,_ K
"? ellwl by r,d< a * d< “ «*“*?• cat
*
drap0 * *• 8I,Rent n anrf
shrouds the valley. Rest, peace pos
sesses all, a silence deep, broken only
by the voice of the wonderful bird. Hls
music rises and falls, Ailing the hours
with melodies rare and sweet, and hav
lag for accompaniment the soft sound
of dewdrops falling from the points of
the leaves on the Balm of Gilead trees,
Historic Battle
- The name Battle of the Giants la
given to a battle fought at Marignano
{now Malegnana), near Milan, Septem
ber 13-14, 1515, between the allied
French ' and Venetian forces tinder
Francis I of France, and the Italians
and Swiss, commanded by the duke of
Milan. The battle was hotly contested
and resulted ln a victory for Francis.
The total number of slain Ik said to
have exceeded 20,01)0. Trlvulalo, who
had been present at 18 pitched battles,
called them all child’s play as com
pared with this "battle of giants.”
Will Be Record Bridge
Wliat la to be the largest arch
bridge In the world, costing more than
$15,000,000. will be constructed across
the harbor at Sydney, Australia. The
total length will be 3,700 feet, more
than half a mile, while the single
arch In the center will have a span
of 1,650 feet. The head from high
water will be 170 feet, allowing the
largest ocean liners to pass beneath.
—Popular Science Monthly.
Wise John
Mrs. Grnbb—I can tell w it ho ut as k
ing whether John has won or lost at
poker the minute he comes home.
Mrs. Gabb—How?
“If he has lost, he throw* hie
trousers across the foot of the bed.
If he has won, he puts them under hls
pillow."
J
Author’s Cl Howlers'*
A musician who reads fiction with
it critical eye for references to his
own art, lias discovered two amusing
“howlers - ’ in a rime! by Alexandre
Dumas. “In La f 'emnve nu Collier de
Vejours," it is said of a violinist “the
curve of ids ho-.v was pronounced
enough to enable him to play on all
four strings simultaneously," and It is
gravely stated of another character
that “tiie compass of tier voice wa*
five octaves and ii half!”
Be Sure You're. Right
“Nothing venture, nothing
runs the ndage, but first take stock
of yourself and make sure your pur
pose is right. Thus you will
needless risk ami justify
of your energy. Herein- Mob the
cret of success in
Grit.
SHERIFF’S riALE
GEORGIA —Spalding county.
Will be sold before the
house door, the usual place of
ing court, in and for said
on the first Tuesday in
1924, and from <Tay to day until
goods are disposed of, the
described property, to-wit: 50
of land in Mt. Zion district
Spalding county, Georgia, being
strip off the nqrth portion of
lots Nos. 92 and 93, containing
acres, bounded on the north by
lots Nos. 68 and 69, on the east
public road, on the south by lands
Jasper Seagraves and on the
by lands of Yarbrough. Levied
on and sold as the property
W. I. Watson to satisfy a fi. fa.
sued from the City court of
vs. W. I. Watson. Tenant in
session legally notified.
W. T. FREEMAN,
Sheriff.
DIIINEIIlit
The Struggle Discourages^W any »
Citizen of Grffiin
Around all day with an aching back
Can’t rest at night;
Enough to make any one "give out”
Doan’s Pills are helping thousands,
thousands.
They are for kidney backache;
And other kidney ills. Ask your
neighbor. i
Here is Griffin proof of their mer
it:
W. Pickering, grocer, 8L3 W.
Poplar St., gave the following state
n ? en ^ March 5®, 1918: “I had cut
ln ? P®*** 8 across the small of my
, back and they worked their
<*> head. 1 had way up
and ™y severe headache*
wa * *° oervous I felt all un
strung. I saw Doan’s Pills highly re
commended and procured some at
the Evans Pharmacy. Doan’s quickly
relieved me and made me feel better
in oveiY way.”
0n November 18, 1921, Mr. Pick
er |ptf added: “Doan’s Pills to conftm always
5^iMtX” »
Foster-Milbnm
PAGE
ISM
Directory Wi- •si ,wi
WARREN LODGE
Mo. a), I, O. 0. F., meets every
Monday night at 7:30 at Warren
Lodge Hall. Visiting brothers cor
iiallp invited.
R. A. PEEL, Secretary.
W. T. ATKINSON, N. G.
MERIDIAN SUN LODGE
No. 26, P. & A. M.
Regular meeting Tuesday night,
October 7th, 7 o’clock. Note change
in hour. Visitors welcome.
0. H. Scales, W. M. Bill Wells. Sec.
w. o. w.
Meets every Thursday, 7:30 p. m.
Sovereigns, your camp needs your
presence. You will find your Clerk
»11 times at Slaton Powell Clo. Co.
Visiting Sovereigns welcome. Come.
L. J. SAULEY, C. C.
C. C. STANLEY, Clerk.
Pythagoras No. Chapter,
10, R. A. M.
Regular meeting, Second and Fourth
Thursday, 7:30 p. ra. Visitors wei
tome. WM. T. ATKINSON, H. P.
RD.L WELLS, Secretary.
. Ben Barrow Lodge
No. 587 F. & A. M.
Next meeting Oct. 2nd.
L. B. GUEST, W. M.
CLIFFORD GRUBBS, Secty.
fioii HjkifjHia
Ftfneral Directory
HAISTEN BROS. CO.
FUNERAL DIRECTORS
AND EMBALMERS
Griffin and Senoia, Georgia
Office Phone 575. Res, Phone 63
FRANK S. PITTMAN
Funeral Director
and Embalmer
Office Phone 822. Rea. Phone 6&
E. D. FLETCHER
Embalmer and Funeral Director
With
Griffin Mercantile Co.
Office Phone 474 Rea. Phone 481
Y
P. E. ARNALL G. N. MURRAY
P. E. Arnall & Co.
Insurance of All Kinds
We Would Appreciate
Your Business
J. C. BROOKS O. S. TYUS
*
Railroad Schedule
*
CENTRAL OF GEORGIA RY.
Arrival and Departure of Passenger
Trains at Griffin, Ga.
The schedules are published as infor
mation and are not guaranteed:
North South
2:29 p.m. Altanta-SavTi 11:06 p.m.
4:30 a.m. Atlanta-Sav’h 9:07 a.m.
5:47 a.m. Chigo-Cin-Jax 11:55 p.m.
6:53 a.m. Chigo-St. L.-Jax 8:42 p.m.
9:01 a.m. Atlanta-Macon 5:20 pjn.
12:25 fi.m. Atlanta-Macon 2:17 p.m.
5:57 p.m. Atlanta-Albany 12:19 a.m.
t Chattanooga Division
From: For:
2:30 p.m. Chattanooga 9:45 a.m.
8:15 a.m. Cedartown 5:25 p.m.
SOUTHERN RAILWAY
From: For:
„ Atlanta points—
5:58 p.m. East—-West 10:02 a.
10:02 a.m. Collms-Ft.Valley 5:63 pj
FOR SALE
1 two story granite building
on N. Hill street with three
fronts on Hill street.
1 10-room house on S. Hill
street. This one of the fin
est homes in Griffin, with
east front.
2 Bungalows on Oak st.
3 houses on Raymond st.
I house on south Eighth s f
Phone 303 and 1028
T. EZRA MANN
104 % S. Hill St.