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BY P. H. BREWSTER. directory • state: government. amcs M. Smith, Governor. N. C. Burnet, Secretary ot State. J VV. Goldsmith, Comptroller General, j’ W. Renfroe, Treasurer. Joel Branham, Librarian. John T. Brown, Principal Keeper of the enitentiary. „ , , Gustavus J. Orr, State School Comnus jwner. , . . , J. N. Janes, Commissioner ot Agricui- George Little, State Geologist. JUDICIAL. I’JJTE RIDGE CIRCUIT. Noel B. Knight, Judge. C. D. Phillips, Solicitor General. lime of Holding Court. Chebokee —Eonrlh Monday in 1 chin *rv ami fourth Monday in July. Cobb—Second Monday in March and November. , Dawhon—Third Monday in April and Becond Monday in September Fannin —Th ini Monday in Mftj °Forsyth— First Monday in April and fourth Monday in August Giip>ier-—Second Alon lay in Maj' and October. ~ , . .. , Lumpkin—Second Monday in April and 9rst Monday in September. Milton—Fourth Monday in March and third Monday in August. Pickens—Fourth Monday m April and September. , « r > • Towns—Monday after fourth Monday in Mav and OciobiT. Union—Fourth Monday in Mav and Oc tober. COUNTY OFFICERS. C M. McClure, Ordinary. Regular court first Mon lav in each month. J. W. fl idson, Cl< rk Superior Court. M. P. Morris, Sheriff. k\E G. Gramling, Dipaly Sherin. G. Evans, Treasurer. Wm. N. Wilson, Tax Receiver. Joseph G. Dupree, Tax Collector. Wm W. II 1 wkins. Surveyor. Wm. Rampley, ( orom-r. JUSTICE COURT—CANTON DIS. Joseph E H itson. J. P. fcj R. F. Daniel, N I*. ■L". G. Daniel, L. C TOWN GOVERNMENT. L. w A. Tcasly, Mavor. ] <U ’Tn I’.-.-rd<- ■ t I y , .1 l». 1» .ito'i, .laim N. J Garrison, Jabcz GaL, Aidei men. ,'OUNTY BOARD <»!•' EDUCATION Do vda. Pn-id.-n'. “ James W. Hudson, Coini’y School ( oiu .jninsioner. ' Prof James U. Vincent, Examiner Joseph M. McAfee. Allen Keith, Joseph J Maddox, John R. M<»<>re. Meetings quarterly, in the court house. 'IIEROKEE TEM’HEiLV ASSOCIA ' James O. Dow la, President. M B Tuggle, Viee-Piesident. C. M. McClure, Secretary. J. W. Attaway, Treasurer. John D Attawav, Censor Morum. Prof. .Limes V Vinecut, Association ( or rspondent. ~. , , . Regular meeting< every second Satuidij .n each month, at 10 a ">• RELIGIOUS. Baptist Church, C inion Gn . fine ot xrvice fourth Sunday in each month. ' Rev. M B. Tuggle '.’astor. M E. Church, time of service, preachers im charge. e i - Rev. R. R. Johnson, first Snndaj. Rev. B. E. Ledbetter, second. Rev. J. M. Hardin, third. M A SONIC. Canton Lodge. No 77. meets first and laird Monday nights in each month. Joseph M McAfee, W. M. B E. Ledbetter, Secretary. Sixes Lodge. No. 282, meets fust and third Saturdays. 2 p m. C. S. Ste.de, W M. O. W. Putman, Secretary. GOOD TEMPLARS. Grknd Lodgf of Cherokei' County 1 O G. T.. meet* 3d S Hind*) m I ■ bimua Mu) , An«u’»t. and November, at 10 a. tn. 11. .1. O'Shields. C. G. V- I ■ JabexGalt, C. G. R S. Canton Lodge, No. 119. meets even Saturday. 8 p in. B. E. Ledbetter, v. . < • • A. A. Dowda, Secretary. grange. Canton Grange No. 225. Canton Ga. Jabez Galt. Master. Joseph M. McAfee. Secretary. ATTENTION. Citizens and Friends of the M. & N. G. Railroad! JOSEPH ELSAS, At the old Pinckney Young Corner. MARIETTA. GEORGIA. Han a large stock of— PRY GOOPS. HA rs < I »> THING. CROCKERY M ARE boots \nd made work. Which he others du-.-up .1 I'ani. T'ki* Call > ' ■ demonstrate to you what i- g ang on m s< It ing geo G e.• » ring " go<»J« mu»l Ik sold l<»r » ash. andi a»'i <n..) Thanking all mt tramd* t<>r ti.i:r:a patronage, and asking a rontiuuan«.i t»m<, 1 BUT, 'v’lv itspKllukt ; , 17 * *•' Cljerohcc OBeorgian. A Story of 1776. THE LAST SHOT OF THE MECHANIC HEI’O of BRANDYWINE. Near Dilworth Corner, at the time of the Revolution, there stood a quiet cot tag? somewhat retired from the road, under the shade of a stout chestnut tree. It was a quiet cottage, nestling away there in the corner of the forest road, a dear home in the wildermss, with sloping roof, walls of drak gray stone, and a casement hidden among vines and Howers. Here, at the time of the Revolution, there dwelt a young blacksmith, his young wife and her babe. What cared the blacksmith, working away in that shadowy nook of the forest, for war? What cared he tor the peril of the times, so long as his strong arm, ringing that hammer on the anvil, might gain bread tor his wife and chud Ah, he cared little for war, he took little note ol the panic that shook the valley, when, some few mornings before the battle of Brandywine, while shoeing the horse of a Tory refugee, he overheard a plot for the surprise and capture of Washington. ’1 he American leader was to be lured into the toils of the To ies ; his person once i i the British camp, the English general might send the -‘Traitor Washingtou”.home to be tried in London. Now oni blacksmith, working away there in that dun nook of the forest, witlioiit car ing for battle or war, had still a sneaking kindness for this Mister \V a>liington whose name rang on the lips ot all men. So one night, bidding bis young wife a hasty good bye, an I ki-siiu the b.ibc that reposed on her bosom, smiling as it slept, he hurried away to the American camp, and told hi* sto y to Washington. Il was morning when lie came back. Il was in the dimness of the autumn d morn ing, that the blacksmith was plodding his way along the forest road. Some few paces ahead there was an used oak, standing o it into the road —a giim old veteran of the forest, that ha<l stood the shocks of three hundred years. Right beyond that oak was the I,lacks mill’s home. With this thought warming his heart, c hurii-d on. He hurried on. thinking of the calm yi ting face and mild blue ejes ot that wife, who the night before had stood in the rottaire door waving him out of sinht with a be< kmied good-bye—thinking of the baby that lay smiling as it slept upon her bosom, he hurried on —he turned the bend of the wood —he looked u on his Imme. Ah ! what a sight was theie! Where the night before be had left a peaceful cottage, smiling under a green chestnut tree, in the light of the setting sun, now was only a heap a black and smoki g cm' ers, and a burnt and blast <1 tree. And there stood th • blacksmith gaz ng upon that wreck ot his hearth-tone —there he s‘ood with folded arms and a moody brow ; but m a moment a smile broice over his face. He saw it all- In the night his home had taken tire, and. then burned to cinders. But his wife—his child had escaped ; foi that he thanked God. Willi the toil of Ids stout arm, pl'ing there on the anvil, he would build a fairer house tor wile and child; fresh flowers should bloom ovi r the garden walks, and more lovely vines trail along the casement. With lips re olve kindling over his face, the black-milh stood tin re, w ilh a cheerful light beaming from his large gray eyes, when a hand ws- la d upon nis shoulder. He turned and beheld the face ot a heigh j bor. Lt wa; a neighbor but there was an aw tul agonv stamping those pl dn features — there was an awful agony flashing from those dil.it ng eyes—there a dark and teui bie mvMery speaking from those (bin lips, that moved but made no soun 1. At last, forcing the blacksmith along the l brown graveled walk, now strewn with cinders, he pointed to the smoking vmbeis Tin re, thcre--amil ti.at heap of black ai d smoking ruins, the blicksm th beh id a dark mass of burnt tlvsh and blackt ned bones. “Your wife!’ shrieked the farmer, as his agony found words “ The British they came in the night; they —’’ And then he spoke that outrage which ■ the Ill's quivers to think <'n, which the heart palsied to tell—“ Your wife,’’ he shriek 'd, pointing to tint hideous tiling amid lit ’ smoking ruins; the Liitish tne> murdered vmr wife, they tiling her d a I body in the tlanv-s—they dashed your child against the hearthstone.” This wa* the farmer s story And there, as the ligut i's lirca.»ing d iv ! fell around the spot, there stood the bus 1 bind, the father, gazing upon that mass of aimed tlwsli and blackened bones—all that was once bis w ; e. Do you ask me for the words that trern !l d from bi* white lips” Do yen ask me ' tor tl;e tin- that blazed tn his eye .' I cannot tell you. But 1 can tell you | li-it 'here was a vow going up to heaven tom the blacksmith's heart; that there was a clenc’.e.l hand., praised in lhe light of the bn axing utiv. Y<>. v<s, o» the first gleam of the autum- . ■ a' CAXTOV CHEROKEE COUXTY, GA., WEDXESDAY, SEPTEMBER 27,187(1. Virtue and Intelligenoe---The Safeguards of Liberty. long gleam of sunlight streamed over the peeled skull of that fair young wife—she that was last night—there was a vow o‘a maddened heart and anguished brain. How was that vow kept? Go there to Brandywine, and where the carnage gath ers thickest, where the fight is most bloody, there you may sec a stout form striding on> lifting a huge hammer into light. here that hammer falls, it kills —where that i hammer strikes it crushes! It is the black smith’s form. And the warcry that he shouts! Is it a mad cry of vengencc hah howl, half hurrah? Is it but a fierce yell breaking up from bis heaving chest ? Ah, no ! Ah, no! It is the name of- —Mary ! It is the name of his young wife ! Oh, Mary—sweetest name of woman name so soft, so rippling, so musical--name of the mother of Jesus, made holy by poe try and religion—how strangely did your syllables of music ring out from that black smith’s lips as lie went murdering on l “M iry 1” he shout®, as he drags the red coat' d trooper from bis steed ; “Mary . ’ he shrieks, as I is hammer cia lies down, lay ing th.'-.t officer in the dust. Look . Ano h er officer, with a gallant face and form— another officer, glittering in tinsel, clasps that blacksmith by the knees and begs for mercy. ‘ I have a wife—mercy ! I have a wife yonder in England—spare me '. ’ The blacksmith, cinzed as he is, trembles; there is a tear in his eye. “I would spare you, but there is a form before u v—the form of my deal wife! That form has gone before me all day' She calls on me strike !’’ And the hammer fell, and then rang out tii'it strange warcry—“Mary!” At List, when the battle was over, he was i found by a wagoner, who had at last should ered a cart-whip in his country's service — lie was found sit'ing by the roadside, his head sunken, his leg broken—the life-blood w Hing from his many wounds. The wagoner would have carried him from the ficid, but the stout blacksmith rc- ](used. “You see, neighbor,” he said, in a voice I Im-ky with death, “I never m Idled w.tli the Bri ish till they burneii my home, till they ” He could not speak the out- rage, but Ills wife, his child, were there be fore his dying eyes. “And now I've but live minutes life in nv. E ! like t > give a shot at the British before 1 die. Dye see that cherry tree? D'ye think you could drag a man of my build i p thar Pl.ice me th ir ; give me a powder horn, three 1 rifle b Ils, an’ a good ritl ■; th al s al 1 1 ask The wagom r granted his r quest; he lif - ed him to th -foot of the cherry tree, he j placed the idle, the bails, the powder-horn in his grasp. j Then whipping his horses through the 'narrow pass, from the summit of a neigh boring height he looked down upon the last scene of the l>] icksmith’s life. There lay the stout man, at the foot of the < berry tree, his head sunk, his broken leg hanging over the roadside bank. Ihe blood was streaming from his wounds—he was dying. Suddenly he raised his head—a sound struck on hi® cars. A p irty of Britisli came rushing along the narrow road, mad with carnage, and thirsting for blood. They pur- I sued a scattered band of continent:! s. An officer led the way, wiving them on with | his sword. The blacksmith loaded his rille; with i that eye, bright with death, lie took the ' alm. That's for Washington,” he shouted as he sued. The officer lay quivering in the i roadside dust. On and on came the Brit ish, nearer and nearer to the cherry three tlie continentals swept through the pass I Again the blacksmith loaded—again l.e I tired. • That's for mad Anthony Wayne !” he shouted, as another officer bit the sod. ' The British now came rushing to the cherry tree, detern ined to cut down the wounded man, who, with his face toward them, like ling as l.e was, dealt death, I among their ranks. A tair-visaged oihet r with golden hair waving in the wind led : them on. Tim luat ksmith raised his rifle; with th it hand stiffening in death be took aim he fired—‘.he young Briton fell with a sud den 'brick. “An I that,” cried the blacksmith, in a voice strengthened into a shout, “and that's for—“ His vice wxs gone. The shriek tied on 'his white bps. Hi* head sank—his ride . fell. A single word b’jhle 1 up with his death -roa Even now methinks I hear that word boing and trembling ' er< the r-xtks of Bran lywinc. That w< rd was —Mary ! A Northern lowa farmer offered a tramp his daughter an I halfhis farm for three days' work in rtie harvest field. Tie tramp wavered a little at first, but the colot of the girl’s eyes didn't suit, and ho thought the farm l.i d a l-' tl ■ to > low. sofhe declined ' the proposition, stole a hamc strap and went ‘ on his werkless wf.y. Oar New York Letter. New Y’ork, Sept. 29, 1876. Information from Louisiana leaves no doubt that the colored vote of that State will be divided, and that the Democratic candidates will receive largely over one third ot it, if not one half. Os course the Republicans will imimidate the negroes, but their sad experience under Radical rule has taught them wisdom and given th in courage, and lacy will not be driven this . i year. This is only a sample of what I hear 'rom all sections, and I am confident that Hie color line is really wiped out, and that Til den and Hendricks will receive every elec toral vote in the South. Thtre will be no bloodshed, because the Conservatives are determined not to permit themselves to be betrayed into any indiscretion or retaliation. MILITARY' POLITICS. The Republicans are pushing the nulita rv politics business to absurd extreme® The E. D. Morgan Artillery Batlaiiion met to organize on the night of the 12th, at i No 10 Union square, Maj. Chas. E. Brehn, ! commanding officer, in -the chair. The bat j tahion, which is to be composed of fiv. I companies of 300 men, has now enrolled about 130 men, who will be uniformed and parade witli regular field pieces with the Bovs in Blue. The following officers were I duly elected : Major, Chas. E. Brehn; Ad jju nut, Chas. R< itli; Quartermast r, C. Ot i io Basse ; Commander Co. A, Ralph Arch- I bold ; Co. B, John Muller; Co. G, Ott • Naegle. Maj. Brehn, in 1868, commanded the Grant and Colfax Artillery Battailion. It was supposed that the inoffensive torch w sto be the weapon of the cam paign, and that the service was to haveon iy one branch, horse marines, or whatever they might be; but it now appears that we are to have “regular field pieces,” and live horses to draw them, too. What stuff! One can conceive some show of reason in those who have associated in mili ary life renewing their ascociations for a peaceful ourpose of common interest, but this bring in"' “i'e;l fi-11 pieces” intopoli ics is l.nugb- I able ( '?hi'l s play, were it not so sadly m ’ dicative of the policy ot the party which ' lives by hate and fomenting strife. VERMONT AND MAINE. Democrats have reason to be proud of Vermont and Maine. A like reduc i m of | Republican majorities throughout the coun i try would elect Tilden and Hendricks over w h el mi ugly. The- J <e|>ublicans have lost, as compared with the vote of tour years ago—the last President al year—in majorities, as follows : Vermont 7,000 Mono 5.000 Arkansas 43.0110 Alabama 60,000 Making a loss of majorities in four States of 115,000 votes in a total vote of 500,000. The outlook is certainly not very encour aging for the Radicals, and the tour States | who have already voted afford a perfectly ■ fair comparis >n, being now two on each side, and because in 1872 Arkansasand Al abn.ua were Republican Stites Th it they are Southern States, makes the change in them all the more significant. So far the campaign stain’s well. It is only needed that the West, in October, an swer the voices of ti e South and East i > | Augi st and Sip'cmber. There is every ' hop> that the r< ponse of the M cst will be I clei.r enough, and loud enough to settle the | question for November in advance. Night Scenes in Xew York. Before 9 o'clock last night, thousands of ,ocrsons ir. Five Points quarter had gone i out into the open street to remain until morning. All along Baxter and the adja cent streets the inner edg s of the sidewalk were lin<d with blankets and bedticks; halt mule < hildren were sleeping so close to gether that it was to step between them. Tiny almost laid <>vcr one another : < ntirelv wiihout coveting, an 1 n man.' c t sc* with a cell ir door or even the stone fl r ging alone for ab d In one place eight a w re asleep on a batch of wooden pive nient.s’x fiet long by three wi<b‘, and ba bies sc.iicelv ' x months old, wi fi naked limbs, lay < xj'ios d to the sky on pieces or blankets thrown over cellar doors. An hour later it was cur o is to see the women and girls sitting on the curb-stone, and making their toilet lor the night by twist ing ftp their hair and tinowing a shawl aroim ; idem. <J:.e after another thty lay ch wn in the >pen air i>e?i le the c ihireu, :.n ! ri_ in'il (ss fine iio.sv tlirong ti.at al most jostled th in in p.tsj-ing, to ail appear >. ; ■ s droppcd' -imfo; taoly to s’.e< P- Grad ually tue noi.'C ’.n the streets d.ied out. A Ix-iy ot young gills who ha I been singing "T. eSt r Span-i’.e I Banner" and other pa triotic Mrs. foil i.k'< p one as er ar.oth< r on a ci "ar loor, and the sounds ot snouting and laughter ceased. I’ne mt n pulle<t off their bo r, ts, and while ' ... Is n the side-walks to sleep on, otk'-rs la; I down on the stones or by ar and a lew braced themselves up in the i rm-rs of the do. ts to act as sentinels over the sh ept rs. "So they .-he;, every nijLl,” said a policc iDas, “and we don't disturb them. They C iU’t '' -2 1 tI»C heat ... i --a— it W Otlld kill A Western Prapounder. The clothes he had on went to show that he was from the far West, and bis voice h d that springy, nasal twang which only the pure climate of Colorado can give. He ■ halted once or twice on his way up from ■ the Central depot, ] n) k< d at some machin ery and salt barrels, and he walked tw ce ■ around the post office without g<>i g in. The b ot-black who wan'ed to shine him ; up was coldly repulsed, r.nd the fruit d< a - who wanted to sell nim some cocoanuts at wholesale figures, was invited to step ■ outside the city limits and get licked. The boys thought they bad a cbaiacter on the string tint 1 h? shook one out of his coat, , and then they <piit following him around. ■ He crossed over to Woodward avenue, and 1 on the wall of a store l.e w the ; ostei publi'hed by a church which was to give a festival on St. John’s day. Il toe' him a long time to make out the bill, and when he had finished lie entered the store, placed ins lusty old hat on a show-case, and said to one of the clems : “I see somethin’ out here about St John.” “Y’es, on the pest 1 r,’’ repl cd the cleik. “Does lie live here 2” “Why, no—he lived many years ago — good man —made him a saint.” “YVas he a square man?” asked the stranger. “1 guess he was.” “Have any f mily ?” “I don’t know’.” “I’d 1 ke to know what his business was,’ continued the old m tn as he placed a bolt ot c dico on the stool to make a softtr scat. “I,m very busy thi* morning,” replied the clerk, “and I’m not vevy well posted on him, any! ow.” “Sir !” exclaimed the old man, pointing his linger over the counter, “1 am an old man, seeking information. 1 m talking civil and trying to behave myself I’ve got a sudden streak on to find out about St. John, and I’m going to find out all about him or some one s heels will buak s. m< one’s neck.” One of the c-sh-boys went cut and secur ed an officer, who put the old man out, but didn’t discourage him at all. He walked down to tlie next corner, c llanxl a street car driver, who bad just been discharged, and enquired : “Did you ever hear of St. John ?” “Yi s, sir, and St. Joe, and St. Thomas and St. Henry, and a million other saints !’> growled the driver. “Was this St. John all r ght, did he pay cash down, and use a fellow uptare? ’ “I don’t know nor care! I just winh I knew' the hyena who made the complaint against me.” “Was tiiis St. John proud and stuck up, or kind r humble, like me?” “I tell you I don’t want to talk ! ’ shout ed the driver; “I’m mad, and if you bother I me much I may hurt you !” “I'm gem rally peaceful, but I’m going to i propound some more questions and then knock your head off!’ grimly n plied the old man. “Now, how tall was St. John ' “About so high!” said flic driver, bitting the propoundcr on the chin. Il wonhl have been a beautiful affair 'fan 1 officer hadn’t broken in upon it and escort ed the old gent down to the central refrig erator. He didn’t relish going, lint soon be came accu-tomed to the siz -of a sxß cell, and at dusk last night was still calling out: “Colonel! Colonel! Answer me just one question about St. John and I’ll shot up!’ [Detroit Free Press. Hating—Hate no one. It k not worth while. Y'our life is not long enough t<. m ike it pay to cherish ill wifi or hard thoughts toward any one. YV’hat if this man has cheated you; or that woman, play ed von false? Wliat if this frie uas forsa ken you in time of need, or on • having won vour utmost confidence, your wan . .it love, has c mcluded th it he pr f is to con sider and treat you as a strangei ? Let it nil pass. What difference wifi it make in a lew years, when y>ugo to the undiscovered co intiv? Afi w n ore smiles, a f witior pleasuics, much pain in a little lunger hur rying and worry through the wo Id some hasty greeting .indaluupt farewell, and our pl iv will be “play< d out,” the injured will be laid away and ere long forgo ten. Is it worthy to hate each other? Tbtre is a benevolent man in Boston who gives twenty-five cents for r> igi< us purpo ses every time 1c swears. He has already 'worn a steeple on the Pre-bytei ian church, m 1 is now engaged in “cussing up” a gift to the Hoine MKs’omo y Society. — It is paid that the Sandwich Islanders be- ! lievetha’' Beelzebub w tlkc l tlie earth in the I form of a woman. And now and then a ■ man is to be found in this country who be- i i lives so too, and that he has married tba» ! woman. The person who composed “O, for a thou sand tongues,” passed most of Lis boyhood i in molasses Uog-aeads on the wharf. —— - Why is the opening of the r.m cam, aigu , , like a fashionable worn m ? Because there j VOLUME H.-XUMBER 8 Some Giants. There is on exibition in a stord on State street, in this city, per* haps tlie most remarkable couple in tlie world —a man and woman who arc giants in stature. Thoy are Xlr. and Mrs. M. V. Bates, whoev home is now in Seville, Medina county, Ohio. They are each sev* cn feet eleven and three-quarter ■ inches in height, the husband Yveighing four hundred and seven -1 ty-cight pounds, while the wife weighs four hundred and thirteen pounds. The common-sized visitor, when placed between them, seek very much as Gulliver must have felt when ho fell among the giants. Mr., or captain Bates, as he is called, is a finely proportioned man, of ruddy, healthy looking complex ion, straight and military looking in his regimentals. His immense stature is not so noticeable as that of his wife, who seems almost awk vard somehow on account ot her length, she being actually taller for a woman than ho is for a man. They are evidently people who, if not so wonderfully tall, would bo considered commonplace. They are intelligent, however, and the lady especially feels th® awkwardness ot her position as th® object of the curiosity and open mouthed wonder of the multitude. In an interesting' conversation with our reporter, she showed openly her dislike ofthe life she is leading, and her longing to return to her home in Ohio. Their home, by tho way, was one built and furnished especially for them. Tho ceilings are twelve and a, half feet high,and no doorway is less than eight and a half feet high. Os course they find the hotel accommodations un suitable to them wherever they go, as the doorways are so low' and tho beds so short. One ol the strangest facts about their history is that they were the children of common people. Mrs. Bates’ father was only five feet four inches in height, while her mother was a common-sized woman. Her brothers and sisters are of no re markable height. Capt. Bates’ fa ther was six feet two inches high— a tall man, but a dwarf, compared witli his son. Bates is now twen ty-nine years of age. He is a na tive of Letcher county, Kentucky. His wife is a Nova Scotian, twenty seven years of age. They Yvero married in London, England, Yvhilo travelling in that country on exhi bition. Maggie Mitchell owns a number of cottages and farms at Long Branch. The one in which she dwells Yvas buiß. by Edwin Booth, and in its large parlor he was mar ried. It is profusely ornamented within Yvith paintings, statuary, . rare and costly volumes, and espe ciallv Yvith (plaint ami beautiful articles of Japanese manufacture. Among her books is one of the three 'copies of Boydell's 171)3 edition ot Shakspcare —a huge volume, con taining 100 steel plates,and valued at several hundred dollars. The hair of a woman, nearly 90 years of age, yvlio died on Martha s Vineyard, Yvas wholly yvovcii in i with false hair which had not been removed for over 30 years, and was , held in place by pins. One ar- I tide of her dress was held together iby 308 pins, though her bureaus contained 98 new dress patterns of all kinds and qualities, some of them bought 61 years ago, and one clcgant brocade silk could be t»accd buck 200 years. Advertise in The Cherokee ! GE jP.OIJN.