Newspaper Page Text
Friday, November 7, 1924.
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SHEPHERD
' f^FhaUps Oppenheim
.v Vjtl Qlu/iraEi ons bu~J?
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by Little .Brown., and Company.
cuair, ner ey re nxefi upon Bib
wonderingly.
“But how can you?”' she ex
claimed. “You know nothing of
me except my associations, and
they have been horrible. What is
there to love In me? I am a frozen
up woman. Everything Is dead
here,” she went on, clasping her
band to her heart. “I have no sen
timent, no passion, nothing but an
animal desire to live my life lux
uriously and quickly.”
He smiled confidently. Then,
with very little warning, he sank
on one knee, drew her face to his,
kissed her lips and then her eyes.
“Are you so sure of all these
things, Margaret?” he whispered.
Don’t you think it Is, perhaps, be
cause there has been no one to care
for you as I do—as I shall—to the
end of my days? The lily you left
on your chair last night was like
you—fair and stately and beautiful,
but a little bruised. You will come
back to the world. My love will
bring you back. My care. Believe
me, please!”
Then he saw the first signs of
change in her face. There was the
faintest shade of almost shell-llke
pink underneath the creamy-white
of her cheeks. Her lips were trem
bling a little, her eyes were misty.
With a sudden passionate impulse,
her arms were around his neck, her
lips sought his of their own ac
cord.
M Let me forget,” she sobbed.
“Kiss me , . . let me forget! »»
Francis’ servant was both hhavy
footed and discreet. When he en
tered the room with a tray, Ms
master was standing at the side
board.
‘Tve done the best I could, sir,”
he announced a little apologetically.
“Shall I lay the cloth?”
u Leave everything on the trav,
Brooks,” Francis directed. “We
will, help ourselves. In an hoar’s
time bring coffee. n
The man glanced around the
room.
"There are glasses on the side
board, sir, and the corkscrew is
here. I think you will have every
thing you want."
He departed, closing the door
behind Mm. Francis held out Ms
hands to Margaret. She rose slow
ly to her feet, looked in the glass
helplessly and then back at him.
She was very beautiful, but a lit
tle dazed.
Are we going to have lunch
eon?” she asked.
44 Of course,” he answered. “Did
you think I meant to starve you?”
He picked up the long envelope
which she had dropped upon tlj,e
carpet and threw It onto the sofa*
Then he drew up two chairs to the
table, and opened a small bottle of
champagne.
“I hope you won’t mind a picnic,”
he said. “Really, Brooks hasn’t
done so badly—pate de foie gras,
hot toast and Devonshire butter.
Let me spread some for you. A
cold chicken afterward, and some
strawberries. Please be hungry,
Margaret.”
She laughed at him. It occurred
to him suddenly, with a little pang,
that he had never heard her laugh
before. It was like music.
“I’m too happy,” she murmured.
“Believe me,” he assured her, as
he buttered a piece of toast, “haft
ptness and hunger might well be
twins. They go so well together.
Misery can take away one’s appe
tite. Happiness, when one gets
over the gulpiness of it, is the best
tonic in the world, And I never
saw anyone, dear, with whom hap
piness agreed so- well,” he added,
pausing in his task to bend over
and kiss her. “Do you know you
are the most beautiful thing on
earth? It Is a lucky thing we are
going to live in England, and that
these are sober, matter-of-fact
l
lv\i
if c< * X
H
"Forfllv* Me," She Begged, "but I
Hate the Thought of Fighting of
Any Sort."
days, or I should find myself com
mitted to fighting duels all the
time. ■
She had a momentary relapse. A
look of terror suddenly altered her
face. She caught at his wrist.
“Don’t!” she cried, 44 Don’t talk
about such things. »»
He was a little bewildeored. The
moment ssed. She laughed al
most apologetically.
"Forgive me," she begged, fighting "but
I .hate UMa thought of ot
Hlldltch had been three time* toe
villain he was, and If you were the
devil himself.”
“I am getting quite to like you,
Mr. Ledsam,” Sir Timothy declared,
helping himself to another piece of
toast and commencing to butter It,
"Margaret, what have you to say
about all this?”
“I have nothing to say," she an
swered. "Francis Is speaking for
me. I never dreamed thut after
what I have gone through I should
be able to care for any one again
in this world. I do care, and I am
very happy about it. All last night
I lay awake, making up my mind
to run away, and this morning 1
actually booked my passage to
Buenos Aires. Then we met—just
outside the steamship office—and
I knew at once that l was making
a mistake. I shall marry Francis
exactly when be wants me to.
Sir Timothy passed his glass to
wards his proposed son-in-law.
“Might one suggest,” he began—
"thank you very much. This is, of
course, very upsetting to me. i
seem to be set completely at defi
ance. It Is very excellent wine,
this, and a wonderful vintage.*’
Francis leaned over Margaret.
“Please finish your lunch, dear, >»
he begged. “It Is perhaps just as
well that your father came* We
shall know exactly where we are. »»
“Just so,” Sir Timothy agreed.
There was a queer constrained si
lence for several moments. Then
Sir Timothy leaned back In his
chair, and with a word of apology,
lit a cigarette.
“Bet us,” he said, “consider the
situation. Margaret is my daugh
ter. You wish to marry her. Mar
garet is of age and has been mar
ried before. She Is at liberty,
therefore, to. make her own choice.
You agree with me so far?”
u Entirely,” Francis assented.
“It happens,” Sir Francis went
on, “that I disapprove of her choice.
She desires to marry a young man
who belongs to a profession which
I detest, and whose efforts in life
are directed towards the extermi
nation of a class for whom I have
every sympathy. To me he rep
resents the smug against the hu
man, the artificially moral as
against the freethinker. He is also
my personal enemy. I am therefore
naturally should desirous that my daugh
ter not marry this man. ■
We will let It go at that,” Fran
cis commented, “but I should like
to point out to you that the an
tagonism between us Is In- no way
personal. You have declared your
self for forces with which I am at
enmity, like any other decent-living
citizen. Your declaration might at
any time be amended.
Sir Timothy bowed.
"The situation is stated,” he said.
“I will ask you this question as
a matter of form.* Do you recog
nize my right to forbid your mar
riage with my daughter, Mr. Led
sam?”
‘I most certainly do not,” was
the forcible reply.
“Have I any rights at all?" Sir
Timothy asked, << Margaret has
lived under my roof whenever it
has suited her to do so. Since she
has taken up her residence at Cur
zon street she has been her own
mistress, her banking account has
known no limit whatsoever. I may
be a person of evil disposition, but
I have shown ner unkindness to
her.”
“It Is quite true.” Margaret ad
mitted, turning a little .pale. “Since
I have been alone, you have been
kindness -Itself.”
■ “Then let me repeat my ques
tion,” Sir Timothy went on, “have
I the right to any consideration at
all?”
“Yes,” Francis replied, 44 Short
of keeping us apart, you have the
ordinary rights of a parent. ■ *
“Then I ask you to delay the an
nouncement of your engagement, or
taking any further steps concerning
it, for fourteen days,” Sir Timothy
said. I place no restrictions ou
your movements during that time.
Such hospitality as you, Mr. Led
sam, care to accept at my hands, is
at your disposal. I am bohemian
enough, indeed, to find nothing to
complain of in such tittle celebra
tions as you sure at present indulg
ing in—most excellent pate, that.
But I request that no announcement
of your engagement be made, or
any further arrangements made
concerning quite It, for fourteen days.”
“I am willing, father,” Mar
garet acquiesced.
“And, I sir,” Francis echoed.
“In which case,” Sir Francis con
cluded, rising to his feet, lighting a
’ cigarette and taking up his hat
gloves, “I shall go peaceably away.
You will admit, I trust,” he added,
with that peculiar smile at the
ner of his lips, “that I have not
any way tried to come the
father? I can even command a
tain amount of respect,
for a young man who is able to
augurate his engagement by an
promptu meal of such perfection.
wish you both good morning.
invitation which Margaret
Ledsam, please consider as
firmed me.”
any sort, some - day Til explain.”
“Clumsy ass F was!” he declared,
completing his task and setting the
result before her. “Now, how’s
this for a first course? Drink a
little of your wine.
He leaned his glass against hers.
“My love,” he whispered, “mi
love now, dear, and always, and
you’ll find It quite strong enough,”
he went on, “to keep you from all
the ngty things. And now away
with sentiment. I had a very excel
lent but solitary breakfast this
morning, and It seems a long time
ago.
“It seems amazing to think that
you spent last night at the Sanc
tuary,” she reflected.
And that you and I were in a
punt,” he reminded her, “in the
pool of darkness where the trees
met, and the lilies learned over to
ns. >»
“And you nearly upset the punt.
“Nothing of the sort! As a sim
ple matter of fact, I was very care
ful. But,” he proceeded, with a
sudden wave of memory, “I don’t
think my heart will ever beat nor
mally again. It seemed as though
It would tear its way out of my
side when I leaned toward you, and
you knew, and you lay still.”
She laughed.
“You surely didn’t expect I was
going to get up? . It was quite en
couragement v «fi'o”gh to remain
passive. As a m: ter of fact,” she
went on, “I couh s’t have moved.
I couldn’t'have uti 'red a sound. I
suppose I must have been like one
of those poor birds you read about,
when some devouring animal
crouches for Its last spring. »»
“Compliments already!” he re
marked. “You won’t forget that
my name is Francis, will you? Try
and practice it .while I carve the
chicken.”
“You carve very badly, Franeis,”
she told him demurely.
My dear,” he said, “thank
heavens we shall be able to dKord
a butler. By-the-bye, 1 told your
father this morning that I was go
ing to marry you, and he didn’t
seem to think it possible because
he had two million pounds.”
“Braggart !” site murmured.
“When did you see my father? • I
“He came to my rooms in the
Temple soon after I arrived this
morning. He seemed to think I
might know where you were. I
dare say he won’t like me for a son
in-law,” smile' Francis continued with a
“I can’t help that. He
shouldn’t have let me go out with
you in a punt.
There was a discreet knock at
the door. Brooks made Ms apolo
getic and somewhat troubled en
trance.
"Sir Timothy Brast is here to see
you sir,” he announced. “I ven
tured to say that you were not at
home—
“But I happened to know other
wise,” a still voice remarked from
outside. “May I come in, Mr. Led
sam?
Sir Timothy stepped past the
servant, who at a sign from Fran
cis disappeared, closing the door be
hind him.
CHAPTER XIII
S IR the TIMOTHY sideboard laid and his slowly hat upon re
moved Ills gloves.
“I trust,” he said, “that this pint
bottle does not represent your cel
lar. I will drink a glass of wine
with you, and with your permission
make myself a pate sandwich. I
was just sitting down to luncheon
when I received the information
which brought me here.”
Francis produced another bottle
of wine from the sideboard and
filled his visitor’s glass.
“You will drink, I hope, to our
happiness,” he said.
“I shall do nothing of the sort,”
Sir Timothy declared, helping him
self with care to the pate. “I have
no superstitions about breaking
bread with an enemy, or I should
not have asked you to visit me at
the Sanctuary, Mr. Ledsam. I ob
ject to your marriage with my
daughter, and I shall take what
steps I can to prevent it.”___
Why*?”
Sir Timothy did not at once re
ply. He seemed to he enjoying his
sandwich; he also appreciated the
flavor of his wine.
“Your question,” he said, “strikes
me as being a little Ingenuous. You
are at the present moment suspect
ing me of crimes beyond number.
You encourage Scotland Yard de
tectives to make asses of them
selves In my stream. Your myr
midons scramble onto the top of
my walls and try to brihe my serv
ants to disclose the mysteries of my
household. You have accepted to
the fullest extent my volunteered
statement that I am a patron of
crime. You are, in short—forgive
me If I liejp myself to a little more
of this pate—engaged In a strenu
ous attempt to bring me to Jus
tice.”
“None of these things affects
you^/ daughter," Francis pointed
out.
"Pardon, me,” Sir Timothy ob
jected. “You are a great and shin
ing light of the English law. Peo
ple speak of you ns a future chan
cellor. How can you contemplate
an alliance with the widow of one
criminal and the daughter of an
other?
“As to Margaret being OHver Hll
dltch’s widow,” Francis replied,
i< you were responsible for that, and
no one else. He was your protege;
you gave your consent to the mar
riage. As to your being her fa
ther, that again is not Margaret’s
I should manor her If Oliver
He closed the door softly. They
heard his footsteps descending the
stairs. Francis leaned once more
over Margaret. She seemed still
dazed, confused with new thoughts.
She responded, however, readily to
his touch, yielded to his caress with
an almost pathetic eagerness.
“Francis,” she murmured, as his
arms closed around her, “I wunt to
ftoredt.”
There followed a brier period or
time, the most wonderful of his
life, the happiest of hers. They
took advantage of Sir Timothy’s ab
solute license, and spent long days
at the Sanctuary, Ideal lovers’ days,
with their punt moored at night
amongst the lilies, where her
kisses seemed to come to Klin with
an aroma and wonder born on the
spot. Then there came a morning
when he found a cloud on her face.
She was looking at the great wall,
and away at the minaret beyond.
They had heard from the butler
that Sir Timothy had spent the
night at the villa, and that prepa
rations were on hand for another
of his wonderful parties. Fran
cis, who was swift to read her
thoughts, led her away Into the rose
garden, where once she had failed
him.
“You have been looking over the
wall, Margaret,” he said reproach
fully.
She looked at him with a little
(To bt coqtbiaad)
■
DAILY N
Our Daily Story 1
_I__ )
Sentenced to Be
Hanged
By CHARLES E. BAXTER
*« Hemlin, j ou understand that you
can expect no mercy. The nature
of your crime precludes the possi
bility of It. But you have the
chance to redeem your life by a last
act of merit”
Hemlin nodded. He smiled. That
nolle of the condemned murderer
was ghastly. Hemlin was a man
without nerves. He had never
quailed all those weeks In the cell
of the condemned.
A surgeon of international repu
tation, he was the only man who
had ever performed a certain very
difficult operation. Before bis day
men had said It could not be done.
No other surgeou had performed
it successfully.
The man was mad. Otherwise he
would never have committed hts
ghastly crime. He would never
have torturecl a living child to death
In his experiments. And in two
weeks he was to hang;
Hemlin stood In the sick room
In the warden's house. , The war
den’s child lay gasping its life out
on the table. AH the operating Im
plements were there. A nurse,
white with terror, was there. The
warden was there—with Hemlin.
The keen eyes ran over the
child’s face. He felt the pulse. He
percussed the seat of the disease.
“Yes,” he said, “I can save her.”
“You will?” the warden gasped.
He was the father now, thinking
only of his child, not of his pris
oner.
“What do I get?”
"Nothing.” The warden shook ibis
head. She shall die, If need be—
I won’t be false to my trust.”
Hemlin saw that he meant It. There
jias no relaxing in the warden’s
sense -of duty. He was ready to let
the child die rather than let Hemlin
escape.
Hemlin hesitated. He smiled
again. ‘Til do it,” he said. "Ether,
nurse 1”
At once he took He
was no^ longer the man awaiting a
shameful death—only the surgeon.
The instruments and sponges were
lifted out of the boiling disinfecting
solution. The first Incision was
made. The operation began.
How she went through with It
Nurse Stevens said afterward she
never knew. It was the most horri
ble hour of her career—the con
demned man operating upon the all
but dying child, and Hie warden, the
child’s father, watching, keeping Ills
guard over him from a chair, a re
volver in his pocket, and his hand
gripping the revolver handle.
No, how she went through with It
Nurse Stevens never knew. It was
all a dim, misty, dreadful dream to
her. Only she was aware at last of
the doctor’s stitching up the wound,
and of herself mechanically assist
ing him and then she beard him say
ing:
“It’s alt right. The child will live.”
Then the warden was at the con
demned man’s side, grasping his
hands, and telling him in broken
tones that he had given back life to
him, too.
Life—and the shadow of the gal
lows. And no hope for Hemlin—
not the least in the world 1
The child, beginning to come out
of the anesthetic, stirred and uttered
a faint cry. Hemlin gave the nurse
a few brisk, businesslike directions.
“Take out the superficial stitches in
a few days,” he said. “You can do
that yourself. Follow the ordinary
post-operative treatment. There will
be nothing special requiring my at
tention. If there should be compli
cations, they will occur wlthLn the
next two weeks. Call on me. After
that time, however, it will be use
less.”
A moan escaped the warden’s
Ups at the biting irony of it.
“Wh.-.t can I do, ’ Hemlin?” he
moaned. *T—I can do nothing. The
governor wonfe take this into consid
eration.”
“But, ray friend, you have done
wonders for me,” responded Hemlin,
smiling. “It was a great pleasure to
be permitted to operate. I con
sider this a great triumph, I only
regret that I cannot have the op
portunity of narrating It to a medi
cal congress. However, there is one
thing you can give me, warden. Five
minutes alone.”
Involuntarily his glance had
strayed toward the razor-edged
scalpel.
“You shall have It, Hemlin,” re
plied the warden, gripping him by
the hands.
He went out, leaving Hemlin
alone.
(IB, 1924, WMtarn
EAST GRIFFIN
MISS ESTELLE GRUBBS
Correspondent
Evelyn and Opal Davis spent
Sunday with Lucile and Lennie
Davis.
Miss Ezelle Evans is spending
some time in Fairfax, Ala., visit
ing her aunt, Mrs. Dollie Evans.
Joel Thacker, of Springdale, Va.,
has returned home after spending
several days with his sister, Mrs.
Maude Collier, of East Griffin.
The Jnany friends in Griffin of
Roy Kilgore will be sorry to know
that he has accepted a position at
Fairfax, Ala. Mr. Kilgore will be
greatly missed in Griffin, a* he
was leader of the Georgia-Klncaid
band.
The many friends of Lewis
Brown will be glad to know that
he is still improving after falling
and seriously hurting himself
some time ago.
East Griffin Baptist church
prayer meeting has been changed
from Thursday night to Wednes-
KILLS YOUTH IN
FAYETTE COUNTY
■■
Fayetteville, Nov. 7.—The body
of Herman Driver, 16, son of
William Driver, of Fayette coun
ty, was found in a bateau uoating
on Lee’s pond, about 6 miles north
of Fayetteville, early yesterday
with a gunshot wound in it.
A man by the name of Cochran
and his son, who live near the
pond, found the corpse.
They reported their find to of
ficials at Fayetteville and Sheriff
T. M. Kerlin and Coroner E. L.
Dorsett investigated.
Accident.
The verdict returned by a cor
oner's jury is that young Driver
came to his death by the acciden
tal discharge of a shotgun in his
own hands.
It developed at the inquest,
the youth’s father, that the boy
had been hunting ducks. He left
home early and was found about
6 o’clock.
Father Heard Shot.
The father testified that he
heard a shot a short time after
his son left home, but supposed
his son was shooting at some bird.
He made no investigation.
Other survivors besides his fa
ther are a brother, Ernest Dri
ver; a sister, Mrs. J. U. Turner,
and several smaller brothers and
sisters,
r i
| Fayetteville News |
i - - ■--. r -.......... ......... v
(Fayetteville News) :_____
Mrs. J. R. Stephens and little
daughter left Wednesday for Ala
bama, where they will spend some
time with relatives.
Mr. and Mrs. E. E. Dixon and
family, of Helmer, were guests of
Mrs. G. W. Dorsett Sunday.
Mrs. Fannie Brown left Sunday
for Odessaville, where she will
spend several wfeeks with her son,
Gardner Brown.
Miss Opal Davis, of Atlanta,
spent the week end with her par
ents, Mr. and Mrs. J. J. Davis.
Mrs. A. C. Mullins was the
guest of her daughter, Mrs. Carl
Weldene, last week.
The school athletic club of the
school, which was organized re
cently, are practicing for basket
ball and hope to play some games
soon, having written several near
by schools for games. The girls
are also planning a team.
The Agoga Amoma Class held |
their regular business meeting
last Tuesday evening at the home
of their teacher, Mrs. L. G. Perry.
Plans were discussed for a Thanks^
giving social.
Mrs. T. S. McKinney and daugh
ter, Eula Lee, of College Park,
spent Friday here.
Mr. and Mrs. C. V. Shirley spent
last week end in Duluth.
Mesdames W. W. Allen, C. W.
Peacock and A. L. Matthews at
tended missionary meeting in Oak
land City Wednesday.
Sara and Roxie, spent
and Sunday with friends
Covington, Ga. ,
Moody Duffy, of Jonesboro, was
guest of Miss Helen Allen Satur
Miss Hester Kerlin, of Atlanta,
last week end with relatives
ACCIDENTAL EFFECTS
u We can turn even our misfor
into triumphs. M
(< That’s right,” said the jazz
“I hit my finger with
tack hammer and had to play
piano just the same. The re
was one of the trickiest little
you ever heard. >»
night. Everybody cordially
to attend.
Shug Bunn recently visited rela
and friends in East Griffin.
The Robert T. Daniel, Rebekah
No. 4G, held their regular
last night.
Regular meeting of Ben Barrow
No. 687, will be held Thurs
night, November 6, at 7
o'clock. Visitors invited to attend.
: - ^
McDonough Items
s____/
(McDonough i Advertiser.)
Mias Josephine Turner, of Bre
nau, spent the week-end with her
parents, Judge and Mrs. Paul Tur
ner.
Miss Leonora Weems, of Agrees
Scott, spent the week-end with
her parents, Mr. and Mrs. J. T.
Weems.
Mrs. Beulah Redman, of At
lanta, is spending this week with
her parents, Mr. and Mrs. J. L.
Atkinson.
Mr. and Mrs. Homer Harris, of
Atlanta, spent Sunday with their
parents, Mr. and Mrs. W. D. Tar
pley.
Mr. and Mrs. Parks Cook and
little daughter, and Mr. and Mrs.
Owen Moseley spent last Thurs
day in Atlanta.
Miss Bertha Turner, of Wes
leyan, Macon, spent the week-end
with her parents, Mr. and Mrs.
Will Turner.
..............
Mrs. Tommie Turner has return
ed home after an extended visit to
her daughter, Mrs. Jack Craft, at
Hartwell.
Mr. and Mrs. Howard Swann
'
and childrgi, of Rex, spent last
Wednesday with their sister, Mrs.
Epps Brannan.
Mrs. T. A. Sloan and Mrs. Ter
hune Sudderth and little daugh
ter spent Monday at Hampton
with Mrs. David Arnold.
Mrs. Caldwell and son, Col. H.
W. Caldwell, and Miss Daniel, of
Atlanta, spent Sunday afternoon
with Mr. and Mrs. J. W. Rape.
Mr. and Mrs. John Adair, of
Snapping Shoals, visited relatives
here Sunday and attended quarter
ly meeting at the Methodist
George Alexander and his Sun
school class of young men
the Argogo Sunday school
at the Baptist Tabernacle
Sunday.
Miss Loree Patillo, of Stock
bridge, and Miss Virla Patillo, of
East Atlanta, spent the
with their parents, Mr. and Mrs.
Talmon Patillo.
Judge and Mrs. A. G. Harris
had as their guests Sunday Mr.
and Mrs. Tom Woodruff, of At
lanta, and Mr. and Mrs. Howard
Carmichael, of East Paint.
Mrs. Frank Sowell had as her
guests for the week-end Mrs. Sav
age Guillard and little daughter,
of Griffin, and Misses Bankston
and Glass, of Jenkinsburg.
Mrs. J. H. Land, of Jackson,
visited her daughter, Mrs. C. M.
Kimbrell, the past week.
,
Zebulon News
*
v
(Pike County Journal.)
A. A. Howell, of Jackson, was
in Zebulon Monday.
Mrs. Lula Garner, of Americus,
was visiting friends here Monday.
Miss Fannie Maude Norris has
returned home after spending sev
eral days with her sister, Mrs.
R. L. Carter, of Thomaston.
C. W. Sullivan, of Meansville,
was in Zebulon Monday.
Mrs. D. S. Barrett was in Grif
fin Friday.
Mrs. R. A. Mallory and son, of
Concord, attended Chai iqua
here Friday.
Misses Mary and Lizzie
worth, of Meansville, attended
Chautauqua here Friday.
Mr. and Mrs. E. A. Reeves
children spent the week-end
relatives in Griffin. *
Mrs. Annie Lavender, of
tersville, is the guest of her
ter, Miss Lizzie Mitchell.
Mrs. W. P. Wilson and
sons, of Ggiffin, are the guests
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t
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't
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■
.
Mr. and Ml
family. mm
Mr*. E, M. Owen i
ville Monday to se<
Mr*. Jones, who i#
pneumonia.
Mr*. Fitzpatrick, of C
spent several day* of las
with her daughter, Mr*.
Green. ■
Mr, and Mrs. Wyley Gar
and son, Joe, of Haralson,
the Sunday guests of Mis* Cl
Dunn.
Mrs. M. J. Richards, froi
tells, visited Mrs. W. M.
well recently. °
Misses Nannie and Sadie M
Sullivan, of Meansville, attend
Chautauqua Monday.
Homer Lifsey, of Forsyth, *
the recent guest of his sister,
J. J. Slade. EC
Mrs. Franklin, of Barnesville, i
visiting her son, Mr. W. J. Fran)
lin, and family.
Col. and Mrs. E. M. Owen a»
Mr. and Mrs. Claude Tidwell »p
Sunday in Milledgeville.
Elder George Goddard, of B
ner, was in Zebulon Monday.
Mrs. G. P. Forman, Miss Mai
Forman, and Mr. George Form
Jr., of Gqpenville, were the guests
of Col. and Mrs. F. L. Adams
Sunday.
Mrs. A. J. Hargrove and little
daug iner, Eugenia, are expected
home Friday from Unadilla, where
they have been spending a while
with the former’s mother,
Prof. Patrick, Misses Rubye
att and Marguerite Caldwell, of
Gay, visited the latter’s parents
Saturday afternoon and attended
the evening program 0 f the Chau
tauqua before returning home.
—~
Money back without question
if HUNT’S GUARANTEED
SKIN DISEASE REMEDIES
(Hunt’s Solve and So«p),ieil in I
Ri the nKworm,Tetteroroth«ritch- treatment ofltch, Eczema,
in* skin diseases, Try this
treatment at our risk.
WARD'S DRUG STORE «£|f
SPECIAL SALE m
on
SWEA
$5.00 Men’s Coat Swe
$2.95
$4.50 Men’s Wool Sweater
$2.50
$8.75 All Wool Sweater
S6.00
Dixie Army Store
Cars X
Rented \*
.v^J
LADIES ENJOY
our car rental service whereby
they can secure a smart close4l
*
car for shopping, calling or pleas
driving at small expense
Driving th«> car themselves, they
have the same privacy and pleas
ure that they would have with a
privately owned car.
GRIFFIN U-DRIVE IT
COMPANY
116 N. 8th Street
TRY NEWS WANT ADjSL