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About The Carroll County times. (Carrollton, Ga.) 1872-1948 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 11, 1876)
VOL. V. TAKE SIMMONSLIVER REIiIMTOR For all of the Liver, Stomach and Spleen, Malarious Fevers, Bowel Complaints, ])yspeps ! a Mental Depression, Itestieesness, Jaundice. Nau sea, Sick iloadacko, Colic, Coustipation and Bil liousness. It is eminently a Family Medicine and by hcinp kept ready for immediate resort, will save many an hour of suffering und many a dollar in time, and doctors’ bills. After Forty years trial it is still receiving the moßt unqualified testimonials of its virtues from persons of the highest, character and responsibility, iiininoht physicians commend it as the most EFFECTUAL SPECIFIC, for Constipations Headache, Tain in the shoulders Sour Stomach, had taste in tiie mouth, hillious attacks, Palpitation of the Heart, Pain in the re gion of the Kidneys, despondency, gloom and foreboding of evil, all of which are the offspring of, a diseased Liver. The Liver, the largest organ in the body is gen erally the seat of the disease, and If not regulated in time, great suffering, wretchedness, and death will ensue. If you feel Dull, Drowsy, Debilitated have fre quent Headache, Month Tasted badly, poor Appe tite and Tongue Coated, you are suffering from Torpid Liver or “Billiousness,” and nothing will cure you so speedily urd permanently. “I have never seen or tried such a simple efllco l ions, satisfactory and pleasant remedy in my life.”— ll. 11 tries. St, Louts, Mo. lION. ALKX. II STEPHENS. “I occasionally, use, when my condition requires It, Dr. Simmons Liver Regulator, with good ef lect.”—llon. A tea:. 11. Stephens, GOVERNOR OF ALABAMA. “Your Regulator lias been in use In my family for some time, and I am persuaded it is a valuable addition to the medical science.”— Governor J. G. Shorter, Ala. “I have used the Regulator in my family for the past seventeen years. I can recommendit to the world aw the best remedy 1 have ever us ed for the class of diseases it purports to cure.”— 11. F Tiny pm. PRESIDENT OF CITY BAN K. “Simmons’ Liver Regulator has proved agood and efficacious medi cine.”— V. A. Futti/io. DRUGGISTS. “We have been acquainted with Simmons’ Liver Medicine for more than twenty years, and* know it to lie the best Liver Regulator offered to the public.”—Jf. It. Lyon, and 11. L, Lyon, Bdlefon iaine, Ga. THE CLERGY. “I was cured by Simmons Liver Regulator after haying suffered several years with chills and fe ver.—/?. .V. Anderson. “My wife and self have used the Regulator for years, and testify to its great virtues.”—/He®. J. Jt. Felder , Ferry, Ga. LADIES ENDORSEMENT, t “T have given your medicine a thorough trial, and in no case lias it failed to givelul! satisfac tion.”—Ellen Meachem. Chattahoochee, Fla. PROFESSIONAL. “Front actual experience in the use of this med icine in my practice, I have been, and am, satisfle to awe and prescribe it as a purgative medicine.”— l>r. J. W. Mason. N. E. FLORIDACONFERENCF, “I have used Simmons River Regulator in my family for Dyspepsia and Sick Headache, and re nnlitan iuvaluable remedy. It bus not failed to. give relief in any instance "—ltev. W. F. Esterlin'/ PRESIDENT OGLETHORPE COLLEGE. ' “Simmons’Liver Regulator is certainly a spe cific for that class ofcomplaiuts which it proposes to cure.”— ltev. David H 'Ulis. No Instance of a Failure on record. When Simmons* Liver Regulator has been properly taken. J. 11. ZHILIN & CO., Proprietors. * Colonists, Emigrants and Travelers Westward. For map. circulars, condensed time tables and ■/cncrai information in regard to transportation fAc.lilies lo ail points in Tennessee, Arkansas, \i iwwoiiri, Minnesota. Colorado, Kansas, Texas, 1 ova. New Mexico, Utah and (.’olifornia apply to ii address ALBERT B. WKKNN, General ltai l!< •<! Agent, Office Atlanta, Ga. No one should go Vv cat without first getting in foiimnnicatioii with the General Pail Road Agent mil become informed aa to superior advantages < In-ap and quirk transportation of families, house hold t oods. stock, and fanning implements gen . .ai!y. All information cheerfully given. W. L. DANJiEY !‘LOTTS’ ORGANS Are i.i cases warranted not to crack or warp properly used. Send for catalogue Address fRmV Alii) PLOTTS Washington, N. J AGENTS WANTED. A Library i?i One Hook! Tbe wisent and most brilliant literary gems of 'three thousand years, selected Irom more than 600 Authors, Poets, Reformers, The ologians, Statesmen, Philosophers, and Wits. whoso gonina has illuminated the world. This mow (lydnpedia of 'fhotiffhl is arranged hv topics in illustration of thcliospel Story of I'llris*t, printed for reference at the foot of the page. Ot her Special Features of this remai x ahle hook, entitled CiIRISI IK LITERATURE, a e given in our elreular. The book is edited by s;»tv.i:i> GGCLESTOX, It. It., is handsomely I llustrnted, and is in all respect s an elegant and Valuable work. Clergymen, Teach ers. Agent, all who wish to earn money, should apply immediately tor terms and territory to -T. IF FOKD A CO., publishers, S7 l’ark Place, N. Y. PLOTTS’ ORGANS Areas perfect parlor organs as arc manufactured- Correspondcnce solicited with organists musi elans and the trade. Address, EDWARD PLOTTS Washington, N. .J. HU *! UT is wanted in every county for fill Mil Sill 8 Frank Leslie’s Newspapers Magazine's, the oldest established Illustrated Pe riodicals in America. They are now first offered to canvassers, who will, if they secure an agency and exclusive territory, be enabled to introduce Seventeen First-class Illustrated Periodicals, suited to as many distinct tastes or wants, and with the choice from eight new and beautiful ehromos. given free to each annual subscriber, be cuabled to secure one cr more subscriptions in every family in their district. To skillful can vusmts this will seenre permanent employment, and the renewals each year will be a source of steady and assured revenue. Specimen papers and most liberal terms sent, to all applicants who name ihe territory they desire ta canvass. Ad dress, Agency Department, Frank Leslie’s Pub lishing House, 538 Pearl street, New York. annual announcement, OaiToll Masonic Institute. CARROLLTON, GA. “NO. .11. RICH UiDSON, L'res’t. s i' ing session begins second Thursday in «7an ir. au ends Wednesday after last Sunday in 1 ' Ue - Fall session opens second Thursday in -'"■-ad and closes Wednesday after last Sunday 111 November. Kates of tuition are $22 50, *37 50 and $52 50 i ■ annum, according to the grade of studies 1: sued—due fo r the session on entrance of pupil. t Khudy will continue ,n charge oftke music • I'ses. Terms responable. Institute is devoted to the thorough co i '.' lt ’ ou °f the sexes on the plan ot the best Practical aud literary schools. WRING FROM the gkave Th 'till remarkable book of the season.— He of the day . Tribune. v, the wife of a member of Congress BAILED, POSTPAID, FOKSO CENTS. liKI), WICKERSHAM & CO., SAN3OM* sireetPhiladelphia. A NIGHT IN A STAGE. A True Story of Christinas. The year was 1856—the month of December—the place Tamaqua. I was a young man then, and a strong one. I did a good deal of traveling through the State ot Pennsylvania, going from county town to county town from the beginning of the year to the close. It was pleasant business enough, for there was less railroading to be done then than now, and more staging, and not unfrequently long rides on canal boat in tFie summer time. I was not often hurried on my trips, and took my own time. My exact business at the county seats consisted of bunting up titles to ob scure, wild lands, paying taxes upon them, and getting them in good con dition for immediate sale. In consequence of the nature of this business, I knew a good deal abgut the topography of Pennsylvania, and a good deal that, at that time, was worth knowing about its roads and its bins. All of the latter were bad, but some were better than others. One of the worst of them were at Tamaqua, and possibly it is there yet, though when I last slept under its root, it was in altogether such a lam entable condition of decay, and its roof was such a very leaky roof indeed, that I doubt not it long ago disap peared out of the sight of men and possibly out of their memories also— Tamaqua having achieved a railroad since, and, of course, grown as only railroad towns do grow. I arrived there that December of 1856, on a Monday afternoon, which was quite as cold and disagreeable a Monday afternoon as I remember ever to have known, though, when compared with the Tuesday that fol lowed, it might be considered rather warm than otherwise. I was halt frozen when I got there, and I was not quite thawed out when I left, for I had vielded to a burning curiosity to visit a coal mine, and I fancy that Tamaqua is nothing but a coal mine, with a thousand months that every morning swallow so many thousand miners aod disgorge them every night. It was then, and I think it is now, a very black and sooty place, with a canal in front ot it, and a hill behind it, and a huge mine I have spoken of under it. It was not only black and sooty itself, but its people were siini- Wrly black and sooty, and so were its horses, or rather its mules, for it seemed to have few ot the former and a great many of the latter. Even its dogs and cats partook of the general soot’.ness, and were evidently greatly depressed by it. I was very cold when I went down into the mine— which had its shaft just behind the hotel—and I was colder still when I came out of it. I went to bed cold, and got up cold, so cold indeed that 1 thought l would never be warm any more. When I went down into the frozen breakfast-room, 1 looked out of the window, and saw that the ground was covered deep with snow, and that it was still snowing as if it meant to exhaust the whole winter's supply ill five minutes or so, being very greatly pressed to do it immedi ately. I drank my cold, black coffee, and ate my cold, tough beefsteak in gloomy silence, thinking more than I had done for a long time before of home, of its pleasant cheer and warm th, and of the loving boys and girls in it who were even then, no doubt, expecting my speedy coming, for this was already the morning of Tuesday, and Thursday would be Christmas day. In that home I was St. Nicholas himself, for it was I that broukh home in the night the brave tree with its spreading g-een blanches; it was I that planted it firmly in the middle of the wide pat lor; it was I that found the infinite variety of toys, cakes, bon bons, and glittering baubles which covered it; it was I that placed the ever-beautiful image of the Christ- Child on the topmost bough; I that lighted the many-colored tapers, and I that, at the auspicious moment, sud denly threw open the folding-doors and let in the childern to behold the glory of that wondrous Christmas miracle. In my frequent journeys through the State, I had seen many places which I wanted to get away from quickly, but I never saw another that I wanted to turn my back upon so much as Tamaqua. It was not in any manner a pleasant place, and be sides, if these nephews and nieces of mine were to have a Christmas tree at all in this year, 1556, I thought, I must go home as fast as I could travel. I had come to Tamaqua in a stage, and I must go away from it in a stage —not to Philadelphia, exactly, but to the next rail-road town, and that was distant, I knew not how far. I arose shivering from the dreary breakfast, and hunted up the landlord of the inn. lie was easily found, and was no better or warmer looking a man than his accommodations prom ised him to be. I paid bis extrav agant charges and then informed him that I wished to reach as quickly as possible the nearest railroad station, and to take the first train for the CARROLLTON, GEORGIA. FRIDAY MORNING. FEBRUARY 11, IS7G. east. ‘The nearest station is at Ilium; Bium is 22 mile3 distant; you can not get there before night, if at all. I think you won't get there at all.’ All this was spoken reflectively, and with deliberation. ‘lf I can get there by 10 o’clock to-night, can I make the eastern ex press?’ ‘You can, but I doubt if you can get there at all.’ ‘Why?’ I asked. He was not a man to waste words, lie only said: ‘The stage won’t go—on account of he storm. ’ ‘Are you sure of that ?’ I ventured to ask. ‘Quite sure, and he closed his lips with a snap, as if he knew all about it. ‘Who owns the stage?’ ‘I do, he replied. ‘And I won’t let it go, because the road lies over that mountain yonder; it runs close to the edges of precipices several hun dred feet high, it is rough and slip pery, the snow is deep now, and get ting deeper every minute, and I dont believe any horse could pull through it. I thought of the little children waiting lor mo yonder; of their bitter disappointment if I did not come. Then I said; I am very anxious to go, and I am willing to pay well for being takeu. The landlord leaning over the bar asked: How much? I told him what I was willing to pay- I’ll go and get the stage ready, he said. After all, it was only the high - er price he had been waiting for. In five minutes the stage was at the door. It was an ordinary box wagon on good strong springs, h av ing a cotton cover open in front. The horse was a half-starved, jaded-look - ing beast: I took all this in as I stood on the porch waiting for the driver. Getting impatient at last, I asked: Where is the driver? The landlord, without speaking, pointed to an ill-clad boy stau ling at the horse’s head. I loAed closely at him. lie might be, I tliought, fifteen years old, or he might be not more than ten. His eyes were clear blue and be, hearing my question, turned them full upon mine, a trank, boyish smile rebuking the distrusting my words implied and lighting up every feature of his delicate face. His complexion was like that of a girl, his mouth small and tender, Ins hair yel low, his figure slight audsinuous. I looked at him, stall ling their shiv ering with the cold, out through the driving stoom, along the ed mountain road we were to travel together, and asked: Are you not afraid to go? The landlord interrupted: It dont matter if he is a afraid. lie belongs to me. He shall go. No I said, he shall not go, if he is not quite willing, I am not at all afraid, the boy re plied, and lam quite willing to go. I have gone often, through worse storms tbau this. There was an earnest, manly grace even in the way he shookthe gathered flocks from his tattered cap, and in his ring, and that from that moment I loved the boy. I jumped into the stage, took the back seat, drew my great frieze cape close about my legs, aud wo drove off from among the gaping sooty crowd of miners iuto the lonely mountain road; into the crudest storm of wind and snow that I ever saw. The boy sat on the front seat, wait ing to be spoken to, looking strait ahead. When we were quite clear of the straggling huts ot the miners on the outermost limits ot the town, I asked his name. “They call me Lewis Shively,' he said “How old are you, Lewis?’ was my uext question. “Fourteen, next April, sir.’ “Do you live at home, with your fa ther and mother? “That man yonder is all the father or mother I have, and his stable loft is the only home I have had, sinee he took me from the poor-house. That was better than the stable though, for they thought me something there. There was no eomplanining chords in the tones in which these bitter words were said, and while he was speaking he was drawing the whip gently across the horse’s back, brush ing off the snow that had fallen on it. O Have you been driving on this road long? I inquired. Going on three years. It will be three years m March. Is it cold out there? Colder than here, I mean? I think it is, he replied; the wind and snow cuts so; but I don't mind, sir! We get used to tougli weather up in these hills. I wish you would come in here; my coat will cover us both. No, I can’t, he said. I must watch the road now. We have to go pret ty close to the precipices, sometimes. How close? I asked. Within a few inches. I can't see dow five yards ahead, the snow falls so heavily. Do you think it safe, then, to go on? ‘Quite safe, sir! and I don’t mind the cold.’ But his teeth chattered as he said it, and the ruddy glow was all gone from his cheeks. I did not talk more then. There were, I discovered, wide cracks in the bottom of the stage, through which the wind poured mercilessly. I was chilled through to the heart in less than an hour after starting. Ido not know how far we had gone, or how long we had been upon the road when I heard the boy’s voice, cheery and bright, asking: ‘How are you now, sir? Feeling pretty comfortable, sir?’ I nodded my head, and crept closer into the corner, But he was wiser than I and would not let me have the sleep I coveted. ‘You are in a hurry to get home,’ he said, for want of something better to say with which to rouse me. ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘I want to be at home on Christmas eve.’ ‘The best days I ever knew were Christmas—a good while ago.’ He said it as if he were ever so old, and what was saddest of all, as if he were done with Christmas forever. I told him of the tree I was to get, and how Christmas day was kept in the great cities. He was most inter ested m the tree, making me tell him again and again about it. But after a A’liilc, as if he were tired ot it, lie said. ‘I never saw a tree like that. I know about Christmas, though. About the star and the shepevds, and the Christchild you spoke of —they laid in the manger.’ ‘Then you know all that any* one in the world need ever care to know,’ I said. It may have been an hour, or two hours, but it seemed but a minute af ter this that the boy shook me rough ly by the shoulder. •We are to gel out here,’ he said. I was very stiff in my joints, but I could get up and climb out of the stage, and no more. If I was cold I did not know it; my limbs were numb, but otherwise I was comfortable enough. I crawled out and followed the boy to a raiserable-lookiug shanty by the road side, in front of which we had stopped. There was a rough bar running across the room, there was a thick black-haired, brawny looking man behind it, and there were two or three kegs of liquor behind him. There was an iron stove in the middle ot the room, a bench along the wall, and that was aIL The boy asked for some brandy, drank a glass of it after handing one to me, which I drank, and felt so much better for drinking that I called for another and got it, but tLe boy refused the glass I offer ed him. ‘I have had enough,’ he said,’ We were going out, when the land lord opened the door before us. Looking out into the, storm he asked increduously: ‘Are you going on?’ ‘Yes!’ said the boy, ‘I was told to drive this gentleman to Ilium to-night and I’m going to do it.’ •It you get there at all, it will be ni'dil sure enough,’ the landlord said. O ‘ 7 T will get there all the same,’ was the boy’s reply. ‘Let us stop here to night,’ I said iwe can go on in the morning.’ ‘I would rather take you on, sir! There’s no danger. I can’t put ray horse up here, and my master would kill me it any thing happened to him.’ That decided me to go on. Be sides, I did not care to talk. I was beginning to fed cold again standing in the wind. It was three o’clock now, the light iu the west growing dimmer and dim mer—the glooms of the mountains and the bare woods coming nearer to us, making their meaning felt in our so. Is, filling mine with an awtnl dread of the snow-covered road beyond. Ten miles to go yet, the night com ing quickly on, the cold growing more precipitous, the horse evidently giv* ing out! But the boy took up the lines, the bright, frank smile upon his face, the cheery word upon his tongue. ‘Goodbye,’ he said, to the man in the doorway. The man stood for an instant in the door-way looking after us. ‘Good j a bye,’ he said. We went on along the road that from the beginning of time it was or dained we were to go. I crept back into my corner. ‘Do not go to sleep,’ the pleasant voice warned mo from the front. ‘Thank you,’ I replied, cheered and warmed by its hearty glow. ‘I will not go to sleep.’ Then followed a long silence, in which I had views of the falling snow the white hills above us, in which I heard sounds from creaking, croon ing branches, from the wind sweep ing savagely past us. Then uncon querable drowsiness, fast coming darkness—then night. I felt a hand on my shoulder, shak ing me roughly; a sweet cheering voice in my ears, calling me back to life. ‘lf you go to sleep now, you won’t wake up again,’ it said. I woke with a sudden start, for an instant, to a full consoiousiness at time and place. I was not cold, only sleepy. ‘I am quite awake,’ I replied. ‘Have we far to go?’ Five miles, and the voice was still the same cheery voice that I had heard from the first. lie spoke to me often after that; then I saw lnm as in a dream, fixing a blanket that he iiad taken lrotn the horses back, to the hickory bows overheal, to keep the snow from driving in upon ms, for I was covered with it to my knees’ As God is my judge I did not then clear, ly know what he was doing, or I won Id have stopped him. I did not feel eol and, though I knew afterwards that I was then freezing, and I did not think he was cold. I did not at all. I was far past that. I had begun a longer journey than I started upon. In that longer journey I dreamed of home, of the wondrous Christmas miracle, the lighted tree, of the glad faces of childten, whose voices I heard. I heard one of them repeat two or three times, with startling distinct ness. We are lost. Fwas conscious that the child who said it had thrown herself into my arms, and was lying there a dull heavy weight. But aside from the cry it was all bright and pleasant—this real, terrible journey through the snow, over the rough dangerous mountain road, in that far oft December. The dream lasted a long while through all that night and the day following and the night following that. When I awoke from it I was in a large room, which I had never seen before. There where piles of the softest blankets upon me, there were a great wood fire blazing on the hearth, and I had never felt so warm and comfortable in all my life. There were two strangers in the room, a man and a woman, whose faces were kindly ones, but sorely troubled. When I stirred, and they saw I rec* ognized them, they came and stood by my bed. Where am I? I asked of them. At Ilium, in the house of the Meth odist minister. llow long have I been here. Since night before last. You came in the stage, and the horse stopped before our door, the man said. What day is this? It is Christmas day, the woman replied, taking my hand iu hers. I have been ill, then? Yes! There was a boy brought me here. Where is he? lie is here too. The voiee that said it was Husky with tears, and the hand that held mine shook. lie has been ill, too. Yes! Is he better now? He was never so welL He will never be ill again. I looked into the faee of the wo man who said this, and I saw that her eyes were red with weeping I disengaged the hand she held, and turned my lace to the wall. The woman laid her hand upon my arm. You must not feel like that. It is better so. lie bad only one friend, and be with him this beautiful Christ mas morning. He had no home here. It is Christmas day, and he is home there. I took in mine the comforting hand that lay upon my arm. I would like to see lam, I said. lie gave his life for me. They took me down afterwards to what had been tho family sitting room. There were warm, red cur tains at the windows; a bright, glow ing carpet on the floor; tiiere were bunches ot laurel scattered here and there, and over all was the atmosphere of home. They left me at the door, I went in and stood by the side of the couch on which they had laid him. The eyes of tender blue were closed forever, and the yellow hair was parted over his boyish brows, and still about the brave, sweet mouth the bright smile played as it did at that first moment of our meeting, when my implied doubt of him called it there. Ho lay before me dead, in all the glow and promise of youth. But the smile which triumphed above death’s ruin, robuked me, and as I stooped to kiss tho lips of the beautiful boy, I knew as well as any man could know, that he was not dead; that lie who had given more life to the dead girl and the widow’s son had given it also to him; and that he had only gone farther upon his journey than I—into a sweeter, fuller more gracious life than he had known. And I also knew that I should see him again it I but made my own life as brave, unselfish, and true as his had been —Scribner 3 Monthly. To find one who has passed through life without sorrow, you must find one incapable of love or hatred, of hope or—one that hath no memory ot the past and no thought of the future— one that hath no sympathy with hu manity, and on feeling in common with the rest of the species. Believe nothing against another but no goo! authority; nor report what will hurt another unless it be a greater hurt to another to conceal it, lie who will not reason is a bigot he who cannot is a fool; he who dares not is a slave. ‘Remember who you are talking to; sir!’ said an indignant parent to a fractious boy; ‘I am your lather, sir! ‘Well, pap, replied the boy, ‘whose to blame for that? ’taint me.’ The line of conduct chosen by a boy during the five years from fifteen to twenty will, in almost every in stance, determine his character for life. As he is then careful or care less, prudent or imprudent, industri ous or indolent, truthful or dissmula* ting, intelligent or ignorant, temper ate or dissolute, so will he be in after years, and it needs no prophet to cast his horoscope or calculate his chances In court a man who was ca’led an as a witness could not be found. On the judge asking where he was an elderly gentleman rose up ani, with much emphasis, said:—‘Your Honor, he’s gone.’ ‘Gone, gone! said the judge ‘where is he gone? ‘That I cannot inform you, replied the communica tive gentleman, ‘but lies dead. This is considered the most guarded answer on record. ■ —- Three men were publicly hanged in East Tennessee last week. They never paid for their paper, and one bad habit lead to another until they met their fate. Take warning. And may *old scratch’ have merey on you • soul! It is now confideutly believed that the sugar crop of Louisiana will reach one hundred and fifty thousand hogs heads, against one hundred and sev enteen thousand last year, and that in reality the condition of planters is twice as good as it was a year ago, Try to avoid making disagreeable remarks of any description, and make no unpleasant comparisons. A man made three unsuccessful at tempts to blow his brains out, and then bis wife said to him, ‘Don't try it again, John: you havent got any. That man now goes about saying he owes his life to that woman.’ Corn is selliug at 55 cents per bushel in Cartel’svilie; and at 50 cents in liome, Ga. Fulton county is out ot debt with $5,289 99 in its treasury. ■ ..... The grateful citizens of Green Bay, Michigan- have presented Mr. Jack son, of that place, with a silverheaded cane for having refrained from kick's iug his wife out of the bed during a married life of seven tears. RATES OF Sl/BSCUIPTION. One Year * fiOO Six months 1 00 Three months 60 CLUB RATES. Five Copies »ne year f 900 Ten Copies one year 17 50 Twenty Copies one year 30 00 All payments Invariably in Advance. The paper will be stopped at the expiration of the time paid for, unless subscription is previously enewed. If the address of the subscriber is to be chang ed, we must have the old address as well as the new one, to prevent mistake. Served by Carrier in town without extra charge. No attention paid to anonymous coiuciun a tions. A Xmark after subscriber's name, indicates that the time of subscription is out. KATES Os ADVERTISING. As an invitation to Business men to make use of our columns to further their interests, the fol lowing liberal schedule for advertising has been adopted; these terms will be adhered to in all c<ni- Iracts for advertising, or where advertisement are handed in without instructions: One inch or less, f 1 for the first and CO cent? 1 i each subst tuent insertion INCHES n~T. ilm.j3 ui»i u 7a >i “1 Inch #1 $1 #lO * Incites 18 15 8 Inches * I ; V 11 IS 4 Inches ‘4 ‘.B 10 15 23 5 Inches 6 10 1* 17 25 V Column K 11 15 20 Column 10 15 20 30 50 1 Column 15 20 30 50 100 DIKEC T OH V• Hlasonic. Carroll Ixtdge, No. fiO, Free and Accepted M:i sous. Warrant granted November 1,1843. Meets ou the first Tuesday in each month. Temperance.; IMakely Smith Lodge, No «1. I. O. Q. T. org.. ted April 14. 1871, meets every Friday night. Carroll Lodge, No. 207, 1.0. G. T.* organised May 31st, 1373, meets every Thursday night. The C’liurelie*. Battist Church. —Rov. 11. C. llornaday, Car rollton, Ist Sabbath in oach mouth. Methodist Church. —Rev. J. W. Stipe; Car rollton, !»t, 2nd and Ith Sabbaths in each month; Stripling chapel, 3rd Sabbath in each month. Presbyterian Church. —Rev. Win. Plmmock’s appointments In this County are: Ist Sabbath at Amis’ Factory ; 8d Villa Rica; 3d Carrollton; Ith Mt. drilled Methodist Piiotestant CnmcH Rov. J. .A McQirrity’s appointments in thin county ure:- Flrst Saboath, Antioch; Ist Sabbath evening, Tom pie; Friday before second Sabbath, Shady drove; id Sabbath, Farmville; 3rd Sabbath, New Hope; Friday before the fourth Sabbath, Philadelphia in Alabama; 4th sabbath, JJowdon. PntruiiN of II us ban dry. Eureka Grange, No. 403. meets second and fourth Saturday in each month at Carrollton. W. II Raker, Master. Sand Hill Orange, No. 255, meets second and Rurtl Saturdays, 1 o’clock r. if. A. C. llillon Master; J. W. Carroll, Secretary. Rowe Grange, No. 401, meets third Saturdays in each month. William brooks. Master, Goshen Grange, No. 204, meets on the third Sat urday in each mouth, at 2r. m. J. T. Tweedcll, Master. 13ay Spring Orange. No. 442, meets on every second Saturday. S. W. Millican, Master. J. NY. Burns, Secretary. Key Stone Grange No. 579. meets every Saturday evening. J. F. Crowell, Master, J. W. Ballard, Secretary. Farmville Grange, meets Ist and 4th Saturday, each month; Master J. T. Green, Secretary, P, Crutchfield. PROFESSIONAL & BUSINESS CAROS Yir p. COLE, Attorney at law, Crrollton Geor W gin. Can be found at the office ol Judge Thorn assail in the Court House. DW. STMS, Carrollton. Georgia, oflYr- srr vices to the public as a mill wriglit. Mill with low head and fall, made a specialty. Ad\ico gratis. Cl HANDLER *t COBB. Attorneys at Law, Car yrollton, Georgia. Office in the Court HoudC adjoining the Ordinary's ellige. AUSTIN & lIAUHIS, Attorneys at Law, Car rollton, Georgia. Office in the Court House. W. W. FITTS &J. O. ARNALL, Physicians and Surgeons, Carro'lton. Georgia, Office at the old stand of Iteesc & Arnall. SE. GROW, Attorney at Law, Carrollton. Geor _ gia. Can be found at the office of Chandler & Cobb, north side of the Court House. Dr, I. N. (illKNEY, offers his professional servi ces tojthejcitizans of Carroll and adjacent coun ties. Special attention given to chronic diseases. Office near his residence, Carrollton, Ga. C. W. MABUT, OSCAR REESE, La Orange, Ga. Carrollton, Ga MABItY & REESE, Attorneys at Law. Are now associated in the practice of Imw in the counties of Carroll, Douglass, Haralson and Campbell. W\V. & G. W. MERRELL, Attorneys at Jjjw Carrollton, Georgia, Special attention giv en to claims fer property taken by the Federal Army, Pensions ana other claims, Homesteads, Collections, &c. r> J. LUNQUEST, practical watch maker and Ijeweler. Watches, clocks, and Jewelry re paired in the best manner and warranted. Ai work done promptly. Can be found at the furni ture store of C. P. Edmundson. CTf** Refers to Captain C. H. White. r l r W. DIMMOCK, Architect and Builder, Car- X rollton, Georgia. Is prepared to do uuy and all kinds of work .n his line, in the latest style. Al so drawings and specifflcations gotten up in the most modern ami* improved style, at moderate prices and in shot t time Have no objection to taking ft'ork in the country. r l' 11 J’l VIRGINIA HOTEL, Newnan, t»ejor na, is J kept by Miss E. C. Yancey late of Virginia. The building occupied is the brick hotel tfietter known as the McDowel house)and is both ehgilde to town and depot. Wells the gentle manly Clerk is'always on .fcipd, to look after the slightest wants of guests. J. F. COLE, Physician db Surgeon £?»r" Located six miles north of Or roll ton on the Jacksonville road, near Miller and Garrison’s mill. Gan always be found at his residence, when not professionally called away. Dr. T. P. McELWREATH, DENTIST CARROLLTON GEORGIA fW" May be found any day at his office ovor Juhan’e Drug Store. Does superior work, charges reasonable. Refers to Bun. N. Shelnutt. J. M. DENT. Attorney at Ij aw, NEWNAN GEORGIA. Willpractice in the State and Federal Courts. P. V. MATIIEWS, WATCHMAKER &MEWELER, CARROLLTON - • - GEORGIA. Would tender bis services to the public. Sewin» machines, watches, clocks aud jcwelrv repaired low for cash. Stand at Butler’s shoe shop on Rome Street. NEW BOOT & SHOE SHOP? CARROLLTON, OA. HAYING recently located in .Carrollton, .» I have opened a boot and shoe shop. SA. I in the old Post office, next d«*>r to Smithy HJ A Williamson's grocery, where I will be 1 W glad to receive the patronage of those wanting anything In my line. Give xae a trial and 1 wiU guarantee satiatactlon. jau. 21,155 ti. G. W. GUTHREY. TLOTTS’ organs, Any person, male or female, wins has a little eisnre time can procure a first-class iutrumeut at a geatly reduced price. Send stamp fur particu lar. Address EDWARDPLOTTS, Washington N . J. NO. G.
