Newspaper Page Text
VOL. 3.
Public report
B OF A
I POLICEMAN.
I hive not enjoyed good health for several
HnaM past) yet hnvO not allowed it to interfere
Bith mv labor. Every one belonging to the
mboring class knows the inconvenience of be-
H,r obliged to labor when the oody, from de-
Bility, almost refuses to perform its daily task.
Bilover was a believer in dosing with medi-
j but having heard the Vegetinjs spoken
Bf so highly> was determined to try it, and
K. l1 1 neve r regret that determination. Asa
B" n ; c ( w hich every one needs at some time( it
Burpasses anything I ever heard of. It invig-
Brates the whole system ; it is a groat cleanser
End purifier of the blood, There are many of
BiV acquaintances who have taken it, and all
Bmite in praise of its satisfactory effect.
W Especially among the aged class of people,
Ht imparts to them the one thing most needful
Bn old age —nights of calm, t weet repose, there-
B>v strengthening the mind as well as the body
B)ne lady, who has been suffering through
Bife from scrofula, and has become blind from
Bta effects, having tried many remedies with no
•favorable result, was induced by friends to
Bry the Vbgetinb. After taking a few bottles
■she obtained such great relief that she expres-
E e and a wish for her sight, that she might be
Bible to look upon the man who had sent her
Kuch a blessing.
Yours respectfully,
I O. P. H. HODGE, Police Officer, Station 6,
■Boston, Mass., May 9, 1871.
[heartfelt PRAYER
St. Paul, Aug. 22, 1864.
I'H R Stevens, Esq :
1 Dear Sir—l shouldbe wanting ; m,gratitude
lif i failed to acknowledge what the Vfgktink
i has done for Bronchitis, which settled into
■ Consumption. I had night sweats and fever
I chills ; was distressed for breath, and frequent
I ly spit blood ; was all emaciated-, very weak,
I and so low that my friend', thought my case
hopeless. ‘
I Wild advised to males a trial of toe Vege
'tins, which, under the providence of God, has
■cared me. That he may bless the use of your
medicine to others, as ho has to me, and that
his divine grace may attend you, is the heart
felt prayer -of your a liniriug, humble servant,
* BENJAMIN PETTINGILL,
P S._Vine is but one among the many
•cures vour medicine has effected in this place.
B. P.
MAKE IT PUBLIC.
South Boston, Feb. S), 1871.
H R Stetens, Esq.
Dei* Sib—l have lieav.l very inauy sources
of the great success of Vegetine in cases of
•Scrofula, Rheumatism, Kidney Complaint, Ca
tarrh, and other diseases of kindred nature. I
make no hesitation in saying that I know Veg
ctiue to be the u ost reliable remedy for Ca
tarrh ami General Debility.
JVXy vv it'c bocn troubled -n-iii* €<?>*•
many years, and at times very badly, She has
thoroughly tried every supposed remedy that
>Ve could hear of, and witn all this she has for
several years been gradually growing worse,
and the discharge from the head was excessi- e
and very offensive.
She was in this condition when she commen
ced to tike Vegetine ; I could sec that she was
improving on the second bottle. She contin
ued taking the Vegetine until she had used
from twelve to fifteen bottles. lam now hap
py in informing you and the public (if you
choose to make it public) that she is entirely
•cured, and Vegctiue accomplished the cure af
ter nothiug else would. Hence I feel justified
in Raying that Vegetine is the most reliable
remedy, and would advise all suffering human
ity to try it, for t believe it to be a good, hon
est, vegetable medicine, and I shall not hesitate.
•to recommend it* I am, & c., respectfully,
L. CARPELL,
Store 451 Broadway.
Vegetine acts directly upon the causes of
these complaints. It invigorate and strength*
enn the whole system, rets upon the secretive
•organs, allays Inflammation, cleanses and cures
ulceration, cures constipation, and regulates
the bowels.
HAS ENTIRELY CURED ME.
Boston, October, 1870.
Mr. Stevens :
Dear Sir -My daughter, nftcr liaving a se
vere attack of whooping cough, was left in a
feebleetate of health. Being advised by a
friend she tried the Vegetine, and after using
a few bottles wag fully restored to hoalth.
I have been a great sufferer from Rheuma
tism. I have taken several bottles of the
Vegetine for "this complaint, and am happy to
say it has entirely cured me. I have recom
mended the Vqgetine to others, with the same
good results. It is a great cleanser and purifl
•fcr -of the blood; it is pleasant to take ; and 1
can cheerfully recommend it.
JAMES MORSE, 361 Athens Street.
Mly all Drigists and DealersJ?eryw!jere.
Wonderful Success.
It is reported that Boschee’s German Syr
up has, since its introduction in the United
States, reached the immense sale of 40,000 do
sen per year. Over 0,000 Druggists have or
dered this medicine directs from the Factory,
at Woodbury, N. J., and not one has reported
a single failure, but eveiy letter epeaks of its
■astonishing suce. ss in curing Severe Coughs,
Golds settled on the Breast, Cousumtion, or
any disease of Throat and lungs. We advise
any person that lias any prediposition to weak
Lungs, to go to their Druggist W. H. Lee, and
get this Medicine, or inquire about it. Reg
ular size, 75 cents; Sample Bottle, 10 cents.
Two doses will relieve any case. Don’t neg
lect yonr cough.
MURDER WILL OUT.
A fovr years ago “August Flower” vras dis
covered to be a certain cure for Dyspepsia and
Diver complaint, a few thin Dyspeptics made
known to theii friends liow easily and quickly
they had been cured by its use. The great
merits of Gbeen’s AuorsT Floweb became
heraled through the country by one sufferer to
another, until, without advertising, its sale
has become immense. Druggists in EVERY
TOWN in the United States are selling it.
No person suffering with Sour Stomach Head
ache, Costiveness, palpitation of the Heart,
indigestion, low spirits, etc, can take three do
ses without relief. Gc to your Druggest W. H,
Lee, and get a bottle for 75 cents and try it.
Sample bottles 10 cents.
THEItK IS MONIiY IN IT.
In these hard times a good return for hones
labor is very des J rable. Any active young
man or young lady can earn a haudsoma sum
c J^ ress ’ n tD for particulars, the Managers
t .?* Constitution, the great political and
State i oUlnal published at the Capital of the
CONSTITUTION PUBLISHING CO.,
, Atlanta, Ga,
Hope
f’Opo is life, and wo wild living
Itavo tio hope, aro as the dead,
Who in gloomy graves are sleeping,
While the sun ahinesbriglit o’er head.
‘Tin the sorce of all ambition,
’Tis the life of every scheme,
In it we see the future
Of every prospect, every dream,
Hope will cheer the broken-hearted,
Soothing sorrow,, ouring pain,
’Tis the star of friends parted,
For in it they meet again.
It is that which makes the futnre
Seem a pathway bright and fairj
Lifting oft poor weary mortals
From the depths of woo and care,
Hopo is God’s groat gift from Heaven !
Radiance from a higher sphere;
Priceless boon, in mercy given,
Helping us to do and bear.
In a Church Yard.
The lonesome wind of Autumn grieves;
The northern lights are seen ;
October sheds her changing leaves
Upon the churchyard green,*
Where, sitting pensive in the sun,
While fading grasses wave,
I watch the crickets leap and run,
Upou a stranger’s grave.
There is no sigh of fluttering leaf,
No sob of vesting grass ;
The breeies o’er this place of grief
In breathlosajwhisper pass ;
Yet, like a murmur in a dream,
Purls on that insect voioe—
The vacant tone which does not seem
To mourn or to rejoice.
A tone that hath no scothing grace,
A tone that nothing saith,
A tone that’s like this solemn place
Cf memory, tears and death—
It darkens hope, it deepens gloom,
Black fear, and doubt profound.
Turning the silence of the f*6ieb
To more mysterious sound.
There’s night upon the face of fame;
There’s night on beauty’s eyes ;
Nor pure renown nor glorious shame
From out their ashes rise;
la vain the shrines of prayer aro trod—
Nor sound nor silence breathe
The thought fct flowers upon this sod,
The secret hid beneath.
Alt, Ao-.1.. * ii anil ilvin, i*
This nameless stranger’s sleep,
O’er which the slowly dying year
Is all that seems to weep.
God help him in that bitter day,
(His heart, huS reason save,)
Who hears the .crickets chirp at play,
Upon his darling’s grave !
—[William Winter.
A Strange Story.
It was getting towards midnightjwhen
a party of young noblemen canto out
from one ot the c’ubs of St. James street.
The servant of each, as lie stepped upon
the pavement, threw up the wooden
apron of the cabriolet and sprang to the
head of the horse ; but as to the destina
tion of the cquippages for the evening
there seemed to be some dissension
among the asters. Betwixt the
line of coronetcd vehicles stood a hack
ney coach and a person, in an attitude
of expectancy, pressed as near the exhil
arated group as he could without exci
ting immediate attention*
‘Which way?’ said lie whose vehicle
was nearest, standing with his foot on
the step.
‘All together, of course,’ said another.
‘Let’s make a night of it.’
‘Pardon me !’ said the cJear and sweet
voice of the last out from the club ; ‘I
secede for-oae. Go jour ways, gentle
men !’
‘Now, what the deuce is on foot ?’ said
the foremost, again stepping back on the
sidewalk. ‘Don’t let him off, Pitz. Is
your cab here, Byron, or will you let me
drive you ? By Jove, you shan’t leave
us!’
‘But you shall leave me, and so you
are not foresworn, my friend 1 In plain
phrase, I won’t go; so spare your curi
osity the trouble of asking. I have a
presentiment that lam wanted-—by devil
or angel.
‘T see a hand you cannot see.’
‘And a verry pretty hand it is, I dare
swear,’ saH the former speaker, jumping
into the cab and starting off with a
spring of his blood horse, followed by
all the vehicles at the club door save
one.
Byron stood and looked after tbem a
moment, raised his hat and pressed his
hand on his forehead. The unknown
person who had been lurking near seen)'
ed willing to leave him to his thoughts,
or was embarrassed at approaching a
stranger. As Byron turned with his
halting steps, however, he suddenly came
to his side. ...
‘My lord,’ said he and was silent, as it
waiting for permission to go on.
‘Well 1’ replied Byron, turning to him
without the least surprise and looking
eloselv into his face by the light of a
street lamp.
■I com' to you with an errand which,
OONVHBK, G.V., THURSDAY, I)KcEMBER 7. 1 N?<i.
perhaps—’
‘A strange one, Inm sure; hut I an*
prepared for it—l have Leon loivwarm and
of it. What do you require of me, for
I am ready?’
‘This is strange I’ exclaimed the mm.
‘.Tas another message, thin— ’
‘None except a spirit—for my heart
ah.no told me that I should he wanted
at this hour. Speak at once.'
‘My lord, a dying g : rl lias sent ti r
you.’
‘Did I know her?’
‘She has never seen you. Will you
come at once ? and on the way I will ex
plain to you wnat I can of this singular
errand, though, indeed, when it is told,
you know all that I comprehend. ’
They were at the door of the hackney
coach, and Byron entered without fur
ther remark.
‘Back again !’ said the stranger, as the
coachman closed the door ; ‘drive for
dear life, for we shall scarce be in time,
I fear.’
The heavy tongue of St, Paul’s Church
struck twelve as the rolling vehicle har
ried on through the now lonely street;
and, though far from the place from
whence they started, neither of the two
occupants had spoken. Byron sat with
bare head and folded arms in the corner
of the coach, and the stranger, with his
bat crowded over his eyes, seemed re
pressing some violent emotion ; and it
was only when they stopped before a low
door in a street close upou the river that
the latter found utterance.
‘ls she still alive?’ be hurriedly asked
of a woman who came out at the sound
of the carriage wheels.
‘She was—a moment since. But be
quick !’
Byron followed quick on the heels of
his companion, and, passing through the
dimly lighted entry to the door of aback
room, they entered. A lain)*, shaded by
a curtait of spotless purity, threwji faint
light upon a bed, upon which lay a girl,
watched by a physician, who had just
removed a small mirror from her lips,
and holding it to the light, ho whispered
that she still breathed A s Byron press
ed Die edge ot die cu eun, iiuwtytv, tl
dying gill moved the fingers of the hand
lying on the coverlet and slowly opened
on him he: languid eyes—eyes of iaex*-
pressible depth and lustre. .No oue had
spoken.
‘Here he is,’ she murmured; ‘Raise
me, mother, while I have time to speak
to him.’
Byron looked lound the small cham
ber, trying in vain to b'eak the spell of
awe which the scene threw over him.
An inspiration from the other world
could not have checked more fearfully
and completely the worldly aud scornful
under current of his bature. He sloo 1
with his heart beating most audibly and
his knees trembling beneath him, await
ing what he prophetically felt to boa
warning from the very gate of Heaven.
Propped with pillows aud left by h> r
attendauts, the dying girl turned her
hand toward the proud, noble poet stand
lug by her bedside, and a slight blush
overspread her features, while a smile of
angelic beauty stole through her lips, in
that smile the face re-awakened to ns
former loveliness, and seldom had be
who now gazed breathlessly upon her,
looked upon such spiritual incomj aratle
beauty. The spacious forehead and no
ble contour, still visible of the emaciated
lips, bespoke genius impressed upon a
tablet all feminine in its language, and in
the motion of her har.d and even in the
slightest movement of her neck, there
was something that still breathed of sur
passed elegance. It was the shadowy
wreck of no ordinary mortal passing
away, humble as were the surroundings
and strange as bad been the sammoms to
her bedside.
‘And this is Byron V she said at las*,
in a voice bewilduringly sweet even
through its weakness. ‘My lord, f oonld
not die without seeing you—without re
lieving my soul of a mission work with
which it lias long been burdened. Corre
nearer ; for I have no time left for ceio
mony, and I must say what I have to say
and die ! Beautiful,’ she said, ‘beautiful
as the dreatu of him which has long
haunted me 1 Pardon me, my lord, that
at a moment so important to yourself,
the'remeuibranoe of an earthly feeling
has been betrayed into expression.’
She paused a moment, and the bright
color that had shot through her brow
and cheek faded and her countenance
resumed its heavily serenity.
‘I am near enough to death,’ she re
sumed, ‘near enough to point you almost
to heaven from where I am ; and it is on
my heart like the one errand of my life
—like the bidding of God—to implore
yon to prepare for judgment. Oh, my
lord! with your glorious powers, with
your wonderful gifts, be not lost. Do
n °h for a poor World like this, lose nil ]
eternity in which your great mind will
outstrip the Intelligence of nngeK
Measure this thought; scan the worth
of an ß t,lio bliss with the intellect which
has ranged so gloriously through the
universe; do not, on this momentous
subject of Inman interest—on this alone
be not short-sighted I’
lint shall I do ?’ suddenly hurst,
hour Byron’s lips in a tono of agony.
But with an effort as it struggling with
a death.pang, he again drew up his form
and resumed the marble calim>ess of his
countenance. •
The dying girl, meantime, seemed to
have lost herself in prayer. With her
wasted hands clus|*ed on her bosom and
her eyes tv rued upward, the sight mc
tion ol heV lips betrayed to those sur
rounding her that she was pleading at
the 1 hrone of Mercy. The physician
crept close to her bedside, bur, with his
hand on his breast and his bead bowed,
he Seemed but watching for the moment
when the soul should take its flight.
She suddemy raised herself on the pil
low. Iler long brown tress fell over her
shoulders, and a brightness unnatural
and almost fearful Jtindled in her eye.
She seemed endeavoring to speak and
gazed steadfastly at Byron.
Slowly, then, and tranquilly she sank
upon her pillow, aud as her hands fell
apart ard as her eyes drooped she mills
mured, ‘Come to heaven,’ and the still
ness ot death was iu the room. The
spirit had fled.
The Gay Season.
Hail, social life! into thy pleasing
boutida
Again I come to pay the common stock
My slave of service, aud in glad return,
To taste thy eomforta, thy protected
joys.
Thompson I 'Againeinmon.
The disposition of the sun to culti
vate a closer acquaintance with the Trop
ic of Unicorn; the downward tendency
ot the thennometric mercury ; the steady
increasing number of red-nosed people
we meet upon the streets, and ithe more
opulent appearance of everybody connec
ted with the fuel business, either as
dealers, sawyers or shovelers, remind us
continually that the winter is nigh and
that we must pat off the manners and
customs cf the sweet summer-tide—that
delicious time when—
The skies are bright, with azure and
with gold,
The mavis ami the nightengale by times
Amid the woods a soft enchantment
hold;
The flowing woods, with glory and de
light
Their tender leaves unto the air have
spread—
and put on (lie habits of another season
and clime. With this change in tine
temperature comes a variation in the
phenomena of social life, which, to a
large class of our jieople, is ot more inis
portance for the time being than the
procession of the equinoxes or any phase
of atmospheric changes For now comes
the opening ot the social season—a peri
od of fervid interest to belles aud beanx,
and of somewhat milder feeling is those
who were belles and beaux in periods
more or less remote. Now begins a
campaign whose progress will be marked
with exhilarating triumphs mid defeats
more bitter Ilian wormwood; of thrill—
ing joys and corroding heartburns; of
ecstatic moments, when the enraptured
be or slie would sing, if they have any
\oice for music
My willing soul would stay
In such a flame .‘is this :
And sit and sing herself a way
To everlasting bliss,
alternated with days when they quern,
lous’y ask why fate denies them the only
boon they crave— a lowly grave in a
sequestered vale, where the earliest vio
lets bloom. To the very young man
with |dowi:y lip and callow ideas, it
means a season ot mortal grappling with
perverse nectiea, obdurate linen and lo>
tally . epiaved collars, which results in
his invariable discomfiture. Achilla's
armor was never the source of half the
discomfort to that hero that our young
man’s dress suit is to him, and he never
succeeds during his first season in get
ting rid of the appearance of a gigantic
trussed fowl swathed iu black broadcloth
Ilis hands become monstrous the mo
ment a pair ot kid gloves arc grought
near him, and his dress-boots make him
sigh for the painless rest of you hither
shore. If some of the philosophers who
are fond of calculating the amount of
energy wasted in dog’s tail's and similar
problems, would turn their attention to
these social topics, they would be apt to
find that the force exerted by the young
men of this country during their first
winter in society, in crowding their
hands and fevt into gloves and boots,
imses to small for them, and the h.ird
ships they endure in consequence, would
he more than equivalent to an exposi
tion which should find the North Polo.
As it is with the young man of the pe
nod, so it is with his sister—only more
so. She enduivs fortunes from too
small cicthing, winch aro even greater
than is; her gloves, her boots, her nor.
sets and her crimped hair are inflictions
before which the self-flagellations ot the
medieval pale their ineffectual
tires, hut unlike him she is sustained and
soothed by (lie feeling that she is look
ing beautiful and is admired, and tor this
delightsom guerdon she would endure
all and more gladly, lie, on the other
hand, has his misery aggravated by a
full knowledge of liis awkwardness and
verdancy. Ho knows that he cannot
stuud still gracefully, nor move with ease;
his face is blank in repose, but his smile
is fatuos. Nothing short of inspiration
would inform him what to do with his
hands, aud as to his feet--human power
could not keep them off the ladies’ trains,
Howr be survives all this, or passes
ihrough it without an injured mind or
eons' it ution, is among the mysteries.
It is the fashion to laugh at the mis
tries of the salad days of bo li sexes, but
it is pretty certain that never iu the fu*.
tore will they know keener woe's and
sweeter pleasures than during that tu
multuous peri id Edwin msy pass on to
a life full of vicissitudes and sorrows,
but he will any worse when
fortune and hopes are wrecked with one
dive stroke than ho will this winter,
when he sees his hated rival's rose in
Angelina's hair, nor will any subsequent
triumph send a keener thrill to his fin
ger tips Umn tingles there when the
blushing little mink confesses that site
was only teasing him all the while, and
she loves linn “better than a whole World
full of stuckfeup Algernons."
"So runs the world away.’’
Ten Rules for Farmers.
1. Tuku nood papers aud road thum.J
2. Keep the account of farm opera
tions.
H. Do not leave implement* scattered
over the farm exposed to snow, rain and
heat.
4. Re]mir tools and buildings at a
proper time, and do not suffer a subse
quent three fold expenditure of time aud
money.
5. Use money judiciously, and do not
attend auction sales to purchase all kiuds
of trumpery because it is cheap.
6. See that fences are well repaired,
and cattle not grazing in the meadows,
grain fields or orchards.
7. Do not refuse correct
in a small way, of many new things.
8. Plant fruit trees well, care for them
and get good crops.
D Pracl ico economy by giving stock,
shelter dining winieT, also good fK)d,
taking out all that is unsound, halt rot
ten or mouldy.
10 Do not keep tribes of dogs and
eats around the premises, who eat more
in a rtmnth than they are worth in all
their lifetime.
Intoxicating Grass.
Beside the “dronk” grass, i. e., drunk
grass, of the Dutch colonist ill South Af
rica, it appears that there is in Mongolia
another grass with a coirespoding native
name and similar properties, Tim ac
count of it is given by J)r. 1 lance, in
the July numbei of Trimen's Journal of
Botany, from specimen’s of information
supplied by Dr. Bresschneider, of the
Russian legation at Peking. It proves
to be anew speies of stipa. brought from
the Alachan mountain by a Roman Cath
olic missionary, whose horses were disa
bled by its inebriating propeitii-s. The
wandering Mongols of the region are
familiar with this grass, and uso^vinegar
as an antidote.
Curran.
A good tale is told of Curran, who
was once engaged in a legal argument.
Behind him stood his colleague, a mail
whose person was remarkably toll and
slender, and who had intended to take
holy orders. The judge observed that
the case under discussion involved a
question of ecclesiastical law.
‘Then,’ said Curran, ‘I can refer your
lordship to a high authority behind me,
who was once intended for tho church,
though in my opinion filter for the stee
ple.
History is silent as the judge’s regard
for the authority.
Fashionable people are curious to
know how u red felt hat must feel.
A. C. McCALIA,
Attorney at Law,
CONYERS, : : : GEORGIA,
Will practice in RockU’lo ami adjoining conn
ties. vS-nlft-ly
W, It I’ll!N1Z Y\
Successor to 0. if. f’hiuizy A Cos.
€QTT(KY
IWgf,
AUGUSTA, - - - GEORGIA.
• o
LiberallAcvanees made on Consignments.
Atigiß 3m
J-AMKS l\ BARTON. | OAI.HII J. BARTON.
BARTON 4. BARTON.
Attorneys at Law,
CONYERS, : : : GEORGIA,
Will practice in the Courts of this State, unit
in the U. S. Courts at Atlanta, (fa.
Special attention given to the Collection cf
Claims. v3-nls-tf
H. H. M’DOXALQ,
DENTIST.
Y/itl lie found at lus Office, Room No. 8 White
head House, Conyers, Ga., where he is pro
pnrod to do all kinds of work in his lino. Fill
ing Tooth made n sjs>cility.
fsjfAU work Warranted to give Satisfaction
Being thankful for past patronage, he re
spectfully solicits a continuance of the some.
Wil&i&m Smmo
SIMM art JEWELER,
CONVKUS, CEOUOIA
Watches, Clock, and Jowf lry of every de
scription l-apuirod. All work done neatly, and
in order, at lowest prices for cosli.und warran
ted to give satisfaction. Shop : noxt door to
Post, Office. nufj23lß7fl-ly
BUGGY anti WAGON REPOSITORY,
CONYERS, GEORGIA.
DKAI.HRS IN AND MANUK AUTUKBRB OK
HAND CARTS,
WHEELBARROWS,
and VEHICLES of all kinds.
HARNESS, Atom the Cheapest to the
Dearest, both Hand and Machine Stitch
ed. Wc keep the best
iiiMUDE \imm.
ill Use, for C ARBI AGES
BUGGIES, or one Horse WAGONS.
Can supi ly any part of HARNESS on
short nolior.
Also, a full stock of
LUMBER
in great variety -always on hand, for
home Building puinoscs Carpenters
and Contractors would do well to see.our
special wholesale rates.
Mouldings, L.itices, Stops, Strips, etc.,
•i speciality, and made of any width,
thickness* or shape. Window Sash—
primed and glassed—Blinds and Doors,
either while or yellow pine.
Also suitable lumber for Coffins. Wo
always keep in stock Burial cases and
Caskets of various sizes and lengths,
from infants to adults—all at very low
figures. Cjfliu Hardware generally.
With our facilities, we propose to make
Coffins ot any style, from the plainest to
the finest, cheaper than we possibly could
by hand alone. Give us a trial ami
see l
PATENT WHEELS.
Hubs, Spokes, Itiins, Bodies,
Seats, Shafts, Poles Dash Frames,
Axles, Springs. JR‘>N in great
variety. Screws and Bolts of best
make. Patent and Enameled Leather,
Enameled Cloths, Moss and everything a
Trimmer needs. Full stock of best
Carriage Paints, Varnishes, Oils, Colors,
Ornaments, and Paints generally. NEW
CARRIAGES, BUGGIES
and WAGONS always on hand, in great
variety, and can make to order any style
or quality desired. Old ones Repaired,
Painted urid Tiiltirned at short notice,
aud at living rates. We buy the best
material, a*ul having suitable machinery,
are able to turn off work with neatness
and dispatch.
With constant devotion to our Busi
ness, Honest Dealings with our Custom
ers, Experienced Faithful Mechanics, and
the manufacture of Reliable Goods in
rour lino, we hope to merit a liberal pat
ronage from a Generous Pt-blio. Thank
ing you for your past favors, we will bo
glad to see you again at our office ou
Deimt Street, near the Geo It R.
Re-peetfully,
Downs dfc Lanokokd
NO. 22.