THE STANDARD AND EXPRESS OLD SERIES, NO. 575.] By SMITH, WIKLE & CO.] CORNBURY. A CUItISTMAS TALE OF THE OLD DOMINION. B V JAMES FRANKLIN FITTS. IV From Ballou’s Monthly Magazine.) [CONCLU I)£D FROM OUR LAST.] Hypocrisy has been called the most contemptible of human weakness ; but we all are hypocrites in lesser or greater degree, in one sense or other of the word. Not a day passes that we do not dissemble our actions, our motives, onwlw whether for good purposes or otherwise, let each judge for himself. M »rk Parley had practiced some of this every-day commou-place hypocri sy in his interview witli Nelly. He had absolutely declined to use the money she offered him so freely, and had given her to uudeistand that he was not the least in need of it, that he had the means with which to provide his outfit; when the disagreeable fact was that he had not the money, that he did not know where to obtuin it, short of borrowing, which he was sen sitively averse to doing, and that the necessity which thus stood directly in the way of his cherished plans was troubling his mind most painfully. A ( false pride, which has often and again been the curse of greater men than he, had forbidden him from accepting the offer of his affianced, as he might have accepted it in the same frank honest spirit in which it was made ; and ho now crossed the fields on a short cut to the place of his engagement, ab sorbed iu deep and troublesome thought and mentally anathematizing his poverty as he proceeded. A loud gruff voice from a clump of treeß hailed him ; and seeing a man emerge from it, he waited until he came up. He recognized him as he came slouching along in a half-sailor, half swaggering gait, as Bill Grains, a worthless follow, known far and near as a fisherman and hunter. He was a rude hirsute chap, with a tawny freckled skin, loose but powerful frame and limbs, and a hoarse voice that was not pleasant for a stranger to hear. Very little good could be told of him, if nothing criminally bad was known. He took inordinate quanti ties of whiskey, and was sometimes quarrelsome, but as a rule he was harmless and peaceablo. “ I say, young sir—” This was his invariable way of ad dressing Mark, making these -two words very emphatic, as if he meant to convey a mark of great respect by their use. Murk had sometimes smil ed at the grotesqueness of the expres sion, knowing that it was appliod to no one but him. He had improved opportunities to do this uncouth man favors ; had often employed him as chain-bearer in his surveying, and bad more than once volunteered friendly remonstrance with him about his be setting sin. He was well aware thut Bill regarded him with much partial ity, and upon this occasion he rather expected to hear a drunken outburst of his affection. But as Bill ap proached nearer, he saw that ho was perfectly sober. “ I say, young sir,” he said, “ hero’s a merry Christmas to you. He held out his horny hand, and Mark good-naturedly took and shook it. “ The same to you, Bill,” ho replied. “ I suppose that’s all ? I must hurry on, for I’ve au engagement to meet.” “ No, young sir, that’s not quite all; you just wait a minute.” Bill balanc ed on one foot and then on the other, and said, “ I hear you’re going way out West for gov’ment.” “ Yes, I have decided to go.” “Now, young sir, please dou’t take offense at whut Bill Grains may say ; but he has a notion that a man might be in want of money at such like a time, and no blame to him neither. You see, I know how it happens some times about there bein’ a kinder sud den call like, when a fellow hadn’t calkerlated, and—” “ Well, well, Bill; cut all that short, if you please,” interrupted Mark, rath er testily. “ Allow that I do want money ; what of it ? You can’t help me.” “ Would a thousand dollars be enough, young sir?” Bill eargerly asked, not heeding the remaik of the other. . . “ A thousand dollars! Why, ff is double what I need. But why “ Then here you have it, young sir —a thousand good dollars in gold eagles, put up in this here canvass bag. A little hefty, to be sure ; yes, but you kin carry it. Take it, young sir, for Bill Grains'Christmas gift; and if after that same Grains has rotted many a year’n under the.grass, you happen to hear any whiffet on two legs yelp that Bill Grains was a worthless scamp, you jest tell him he s a liar, and I’ll be obleeged to ye. You needn’t halt a minute about takin’ it, nor ax me why I want to give it to you, nor have any suspicious scruples ’bout takin’ it from me. Lord bless you, young sir, there’s no man got any claim on that money or right to it, when I give it to you, and you take it, don’t*you never fear that ‘stop thief will be cried. Dou’t think Id make you a gift to bring you iuto trouble ; no, no— iot I. Take it with never a fear • I cau’t tell you where I got it, tut I bold up my hand here now, and call God to witness. I’ve got good right to give you that money, an’ you kin take it with clean hands. And as for the ‘whv ?’—who’s alters treated poor Bill Grains like a man ? Who * allers been kind with his faults, and patient with him when he was in lick and never willin’ to curse him for a Can drunken dog? Who? Just “ _ i air VOU. one has ; you have, young sir, you, IZ no other man. An’ now will yon ? H over iust one thousand dollars? Well! call it horrid then, if that’ll make it any the earner to take, and you can pay me when _ you and to ; bat I tell y®} 1 . a o J§onnt square, wouldn’t make . . j> ve pretty much but " 1 d0 pray, it’U be foi ) ou. mau - g kund, He seized tbe polled off over the wrung a^,i ar ing in the wood wfreuoo «amv. Mark weighed the heavy bag in his hands, as if he feared that it would vanish ; and to make sure that there was no deception, he untied the string at its mouth, and pulled out a handful of newly-minted eagles, shining most pleasantly’ to the sight. The whole affair had been so astounding that he could hardly frame his mind for deliberate thought; but as he pursued his way, the bal ance of his decision was to accept Bill’s assurances that he might hon estly take the money, and to take it, as a simple loan, to be repaid as speed ily as possible. Mature reflection confirmed him in this opinion. A week later he hud bidden poor Nelly a sad farewell, and made his adienx also to valued friends. He reported himself at Washington, and purchased his outfit ; and a month later he had biddeu good-bv to civili zation also, and plunged with his ad venturous party into the desolation of prairie, forest and mountain, which for the next two years was to he their home. V. *• Time-rolls his ceaseless course and though two years may appear an almost interminable peifod to parted lovers, iu the prospect, yet it will swing round at last ; and it certainly did in this case. The needs of our narrative have nothing to do with the details of what Mark Darley did and suffered iu this time ; they are con tained iu a black-bound public docu ment before me, which uuy one can get by taking the trouble to write to his representatives iu Congress for it. The service was arduous, difficult and responsible, and Mark acquitted him self admirably, and won unbounded praise from the press, the government and the people, besides more substan tial rewards. He found himself ac knowledged everywhere as the mau whoso perseverance, skill and knowl edge hud made the expedition a suc cess ; and the fame was of that solid kind that outlasts life and makes it self known to latter generations. But enough of this ; we come down to another Christmas at Judge Cornbu ry’s, when Mark had been ten days returned, and by the pressing invita tion of the judge nad taken up quar ters at his house. He had come back taller iu form, more manly iu propor tion, and bronzed and bearded ; but unchanged iu sentiment, and with the lovo of Nelly Bliss still bright within him. And Nelly, a little quieter, per haps, with the effects of long parting, and the two years that made her so much the more womanly, found in her returned hero all that her young love had painted him, and—but after that is asserted, why attempt to add any thing further ? It is only too true that all waiting maidens, after a like proba tion, have not been able to say the same. These ten days had sped happily awaj, and Christmas was come again. Two things only had occurred to Mark iu this interval which he thought very remarkable ; one of which was that Bill Grains sturdily refused to take back the money he had advanced to him. “ Not a dollar, young and honora ble sir,” he answered, adding to Mark’s titles. “ I can’t tell y u now why I wont take it; but I wont, and that’s flat. Without disrespect, my young and honorable, I’d rather you’d not ax me why. You’ll know some day ; yes, I’m certing you’ll know some day.” This was all that could be got from this odd being on the subject ; and Mark was compelled to leave time to unriddle it. The other singular circumstance was that Major Dycer seemed still en tirely oblivious to who fact that Mark and Nelly were betrothed, and expect ed to{be united within the coming year. With a coolness which belonged eith er to the most brazen effrontery of the densest ignorance, he continued to press his unwelcome favors on the young lady after Mark’s return, as he had done during his absence not withstanding her preemptory refusal in each instance. He ignored Mark as entirely as though he had never existed ; and the friends of the latter advised him that it was the intention of Dycer to force a quarrel 011 him and kill him. His conduct certainly looked like it, and the young man, smarting uuder repeated insults, would probably have precipitated the affair, but for the earnest prayers of Nelly that he would avoid all collision with Dycer. Matters stood in this critical posture when Cbristmas-day came, bringing with it a strange and dread ful climax, with the relation of which our story will end. The ordinary festivities of the day at the Cornbury place had progressed as far as a turkey-shoot in the after noon, which was held in a broad field a short distance from the house. A largo crowd was in attendance, and the shooting had not been remarkably good, when the judge and Mark came over to the shooting-stand ; and soon after Major Dycer and Bill Grains also appeared from different directions. “ Let us see one of your best shots, Bill,” said the judge. Bill was a noted marksman, and nobody cared to com pete with him. He now advanced to the stand with his rifle, took quick aim at the turkey on the box a hundred yards away, and fired. The man at the box held up the bird, wltli tko keiul severed close to the neck This was one of Bill’s common per formances ; but the crowd gave a murmur of admiration. “ Let me try," said Mark, as a fresh bird was placed in position.’ “ I learn ed to shoot a little out on the plains. Let me see what I can do.” A loaded rifle was banded him, and he fired with deliberate aim. The man held up the turley, and a shout of applause greeted it Bill’s sbouhud been exactly repeated* the heud was cut off close at th« n fc k. “ 3ood for the a nd honor able!” Grains vocife&hed, dancing about Mark, and swiugi g kis cap. *• I’m proud of you, I am There ain’t another man in the crowi can do it.” “ I can do it. Give nie\ rifle.” The speaker was Major He walked up to the stand, ant took one that was handed to him. Ihe crowd The Family Newspaper—Devoted to Science, Art, Literature, Education, Agriculture, Political and General News. CARTERSVILLE, GEORGIA. THURSDAY MORNING, DECEMBER *l, 1871. gttheroi closer, aud interest and cu riosity ran high. Dycer had never been known as a shot; but on the other uaud Mark Darley had not been either ; and some agreed that if one could shoot well, the other rnigtlt, too. Ai any rate, he was about to show them. llis first motions showed that he whs unaccustomed to the use of the rifle. Instead of holding the piece vertically while springing back the hammer, to avoid all danger from ac cidental discharge, he held it awk wardly to one side. “ Take care 1” Mark shouted. “ You are pointing directly thi3 way.” The caution was of no avail; the piece was discharged before it came to the shoulder. There was a groau aud a mau fell to the ground. A scene of the greatest excitement followed. The spectators thought lessly crowded around the wounded man to ascertain who he was, and how badly he was hurt, and for some minutes there was nothing but con fusion. Then the voice of Mark Dar ley was heard, in peremptory com mand to to the people to stand back. The command was slowly obeyed, and the outward movement disclosed Bill Grains lying on a cloak that had been spread out on the snow. He did not appear to be bleeding, but was entirely unconscious. Dycer sprang forward as he saw who the wounded man was, and stooping over him, whispered in his ear ; but the whisper was not heard. Those who afterward recalled the incidents of this affair noticed that Dycer’s conduct seemed to have been very strange. He did not exhibit any distress on account of the occurrence, merely repealing the words in an or dinary voice : “it was au accident, gentleman ; I call you all to bear witness that it was only an accident.” His great anxiety seemed to be that the wounded man should be removed to his house immediately. “ Come, boys, take him up and car ry him right over yonder to my place,” he urged. “ He’s been hurt through my carelessness, and I’m bound to take care oi him. Bring him right along.” ‘‘ Wait till the doctor has seen him,” interposed the judge. “He may think it best not to move him any further thad is absolutely neces sary. Ah—here he is.” The doctor, who had been sent for with all haste, now arrived, and push ed his way to the side of the wounded man. He removed his clothing suf ficient to allow an inspection of the wound when his examination was very brief. “No hope at all,” he said decided ly. “ The bullet passed through the abdomen, and I think through the spine, for his lower limbs are par alyzed.” “ Can he be moved to my house ?” Dycer eagerly asked. “No ; take him to the very near est place.” “My people are making op a bed iu this outbuilding, right here,” said the judge. “He will be comfortable there, poor fellow, tflid it is but a very few steps.” Dycer clutched the doctor’s arm, and whispered the question with startling eagerness : “ Will be have his senses before he dies ?” “ Yes—most probably.’’ While they spoke. Bill opened his eyes and groaned. “ Lift him up carefully now, care fully,” said the doctor.’ “ W ait 1” said Bill. “ Where’s John Dycer V They looked around for him, but he had suddenly disappeared. “Have him arrested, quick!” Bill said. “ He’s a murderer, and I want to say it to his face before I die.” “ You’re wrong, Bill, about that,” Judge Cornbury remarked. “ This was an accident, be assured. The eyes of the dying man bright ened with quick intelligence, and he rejoined : “ No, I don’t think he meant to kill me ; he meant that that shot for a better man than I be, that’s a fact.” With the vfords, his finger pointed to Mark. “ I saw it in his eye.” “ That’s true,” he repeated, as he saw the looks of amazement and doubt that the words had caused. “ But no matter about that now ; there’s another crime that he’s got to answer for, and I want him arrested ’fore I die. Have it done, judge, will ye ? And now let me tell you one thing—you needn’t look for him at his house, nor anywheres else about here. He’s astride his fastest horse ’fore now, and ridin’ like mad out on some of the roads. He knows well enough that I’ll tell the whole truth, since I’ve got to die myself We or ter both have swung together long ago ; but I’m overtaken at last, and I mean he shall be too.” “ My poor fellow,” said the judge, I fear you are wandering. W hat do you accuse Major Dycer of ?” “ Judge Cornbury,” said Bill, speaking slowly and deliberately, but evidently with much pain, “ you had a youDger brother once, didn’t you ?” The judge’s face clouded, and his eyes grew sad at the question. “ Yes,” he replied. “ What became of him ?” The judge looked about him, and saw the eyes of many of his neighbors fixed curiously on his fuce. He hesi tated, and then said : “ I must speak with humility and shame of the fortunes of th t brother. He was a few years younger than I, and I loved him as a man should love an only brother, and meant to give him a share in our father’s estate, which the law gave to me. But I was too proud and high spirited in those days ; and because Walton married a girl of very humble family, though a worthy girl, I renonneed them and drove them from my house. God knows, I have bitterly repented it since, and tried to atone for it ; but I never could bear anything directly from him him. I wrote, but got no answers to my letters. He w'ent to England, I heard, and he is dead to me, if not to the world.” “Judge Cornbury, your brother came back here seventeen years ago last night, with his little boy, bis wife bein’ buried beyond seas. He came back to find you and make up the old score, and he had twenty thousand pound with him in a belt Well, the short of it is, John Dycer and me laid oar wicked heads together for that money ; and as we couldn’t make out to get it any other way than by killing the poor gentleman—we jest killed him, and threw his body into the riv er. Dycer struck the blow, but I was with aim, au’ I’m jest as guilty as he is.” “ In God’s name, can this be true?” the horrified judge exclaimed. “ Sartin—every word of it. I’m dyin’, judge, an’ I know it; an’- if I go before God Almighty with a lie od my lips, then may he judge me with out mercy. Jack wanted to kill the boy too ; but I saved him and -took him off down to Richmond. Then he grew up, aud his blood showed itself iu spite of everything ; and then he came up here, queerly enough, aud settled down—and in short, hfiu irtfj you’ve known by the name of Mark Darley is the sou of the mau we mur dered that night, aud your own nev vy, Judge Cornbury. His name is Walton, too ; I heerd his poor father call him so.” The judge would have fallen to the ground with the emotion caused by these astounding revelatious ; but Waltou, hardly least amazed, though with greater strength to bear the shock of these disclosures, supported him with his arm. “ About the money,” BJi continued. “Os course Jack Dycer got most of it; and that’s what’s built his fine houses and made him so rich, he, all the time, rnakiu’ people believe he was heir to an aunt in ilie lugees. All that he’s got is yours, Mr. Waltou, aud the law must give it to ye. My share, as I said, was mighty little ; Dycer was smart aud cuunin’, an’ kep’ it all in his own hands, only dolin’ me out enough now and then to keep me still. Now, you’ll know where that thousand dollars was got Young sir, I squeezed it out of Jack Dycer a purpose for you, he hever imaginin’ you was alive. “ I’ve nothin’ to say for myself ; I’ve been desperately bad, and don’t deny it. That poor innocent gentle man has haunted me most ever since, and I’ve suffered dreadfullj, just as I deserved to. Now I’ve told the whole truth ; and before I die I’d like to know that Jack Dycer’s brought to book.” Bill was carried into the house, and carefully tended. He lingered through the night, suffering acutely, and talk ed much more ; but he said nothing to conflict iu the slightest with the first statements he had made. His deposition was carefully taken down and verified in the presence of a mag istrate before he died, and the evi dence was thus upon which Walton Cornbury at one**. umrie suc cessful claim to the ill-gotten estates and wealth of John Dycer. Within a month after this day, the law installed him as sole proprietor of his great pos sessions. A few words will suffice to tell the fate of Dycer. It was discovered by the sheriff, who went directly from the scene of the tragedy to arrest him, that he had just saddled a horse and galloped away. A posse of mounted men was instantly called out, and fresh pursuit was made. The chase was continued for several miles, and then it came to an unexpected close. The fugitive rode a blooded mare, much superior in speed to any or the horses pursuing, notwithstanding which he whipped and spurred her in cessantly. The spirited animal was at last driven frantic by these unaccus tomed goadings, and bolting from the road-track, she dashed sideways with great violence against a stone-wall. Between horse and wall, the misera ble rider was frightfully crushed ; and when the pursuers came to the spot where he had fallen from the saddle, they found him drawing his lastbreath. He died before he could be conveyed back to the scene of his crimes and detection. Waltou Cornbury stood by the graves of his father’s murderers, and learned there the impressive lesson of this tale. It was beyond his ken, as it is beyond ours, to kuow how it seemed well to Providence that his poor patient and long-suffering father should be hurried out of the world by a bloody death just at the time that life seemed promising some peace and rest to his weary soul; beyond our ken, because we have never reached into the hereafter in our groping, and our ways aud our compensations are not His. But Walton could at least learn the truth of His words—“ Ven geance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord ;” and his uncle Richard, hu»-i bled in the very dust and ashes of his pride by the revelations of that Christ mas-day, and penitently acknowledg ing his grievous fault on his knees, al so thanked God that so much of con solation was spared his old age in the love aud tender care of the son of that deeply injured brother, to whom he hoped to make some reparation for his injustice to the father. VI. On the very next Christmas-day there was a wedding at Judge Corn bury’s. Everybody was happy on this occasion, and the festivities of the time were celebrated with double the usual zest. There was a brilliant par ty, there was eating and driuking enough, one would have thought, to last till the next Christmas ; and there was a good long evening of that hear ty, vigorous dancing, which we have pretty much superseded by a kind of listless walking after music which we call dancing. When it was all over, and the new life of this man and wo man who had been made one was be fore them, I am sure that they had gathered from the experiences of all these Christmas-days that we have been telling about, something of the true spirit of 'hat first Christmas at Bethlehem, which I trust we may all make a guiding star of our lives— “On Earth Peace, Good-will to ward Men. ” TBS ESP. POETRY. =A [From the Opelika Locomotive. MOBDECAI. It was Hainan, rich ami great. First fiddle in the State, Who couldn’t shut his ere To sleep nor slumber; why? For early and for late, And forever, at the gate. Os his Lord and master, sate The rebellious Mr. Mordecai! And his bloated carpet-bag Grew billious at the rag Os the very ragged Kebcl sitting nigh; t And he set himself to fix The doodlest of tricks For the hoisting of Mr. Mordecai. So he went and builded straight A gallows at the gate, , A gallows that was forty cubits high, W ith a scaffold and a rope, ’ And a trigger, in the hope i Os strangling Mr. Mordecai. But the King, a kindlv soul, lie took the tallest pole ‘f Os the callows that was forty cubits high; And on the stiffest limb Made a pendulum of him That was Human, and not Mordecai. And we see him swinging slow, Through the ages, to and fro, A warning to the world from the skv, With his earpet-sack to choke him, While the little boys to joke him, ‘How is that for (Mr. Mordec) in?’ Now! yc men of Belial! Heed, in your guile and in your greed Os your neighbors’ neck and pflf, How a mau may build a gibbet And thereupon exhibit Nobody but himself. “ ZE D-N POKAIRE !” It must be told, this story on our French friend Mousieur le Blanc, who was a passenger on the Strader a few days since from New Orleans. Short ly after leaving the Crescent. City the French gentleman was introduced to the jolly Western pastime called po ker—a game he did not understand. Nevertheless, he proved to beau apt scholar, and was soon found “ bluff ing” and bettiug with a courage quite astonishing to behold. Monsieur, however, was an easy goose to pluck, and, as will naturally be inferred, he was a heavy loser before reaching St. Louis. We met aud embraced him (French man fashion, you know) shortly after the steamer had landed at the wharf. We saw ha was greatly troubled in mind. At his request, we accompa nied him to the Southern hotel. On our way he spoke in a sad, mournful tone. “Ah, my friend, wat is zat game wat you call like zis ?” (and he push ed his cane backward and forward). We at once comprehended. “ Poker 1 That’s it, eh ?” “Oui, zat is him! ’ banging the cane down on the sidewalk.) “ D—n him! Dat game cost me one tonsand dollaire ?” Again we comprehended. Our French friend had, during his trip up on the Strader, bet two heavily on “Hairy pair,” and had suffered. We patted him on the back and told him not to feel discouraged, that he would have better luck next time. “ No, saire !” lie exclaimed. “I no ask for more luck. I no play no more—what you call him— pokaire? ”No, by d—n, no more ! I no more wish to hear ze name of pokaire iu my two ears ?” We reached the Southern, when the Frenchman, fatigued by his journey and distressed at his loss, sought his room. The weather was damp and chilly. He rang the bell, when a ser vant appeared for orders. “ I want you to make ze fire burn— I want him hot.” “ Aye, sir ; I can do that with the poker.” The Frenchman groaned, and frightened the boy with a look of sav age despair. “Youd—n rascale,” he moaned, “if you say pokaire to me I will cut your throat off close to your head!” The servant hastily left, and saw nothing of the Frenchman until the next morning, when he found him inquiring the way to the dining hall. He was not yet iu the best hu mor. • “ Zis is ze way to the breakfast ?” he asked. “ No, sir, that door leads to an ante-room.” The Frenchman became excited and confused. He muttered through his half-dosed teeth : “By gare, I shall quit ziz house. I ask for ze make ze fire burn, and you say he want pokaire. I tell you d—n ze pokaire. I ask for za break fast, and you show me to ze anti room. I tell you d—n ze anti! I lose one thousand dollaire, and no more anti and ze pokaire.” Saying which he hurriedd down stairs, where we met him thoroughly convinced that everybody in St. Louis paid more attention to poker than to any other branch of business. “ Up. ” —“ Good morning, Smith ; you look sleepy. ” “ Yes, ’’ replied Smith, “I was up all night.” “Up .where ? ” “Up stairs in bed. ” Sambo had been whipped for steal ing his master’s onions. One day he brought in a skunk in his arms ; says he : “Massa here’s de chap dat steal de onions j Whew—smell him bref!” An Irishman noticing a lady pass ing down the street, espied two strips suspending from under her mantle.—- Not knowing that these were styled sashes and were hanging in their right places, he exclaimed, “An faith, ma’- am, yer galluses are loose !” Two Irishmen, one sultry night, immediately after their arrival in In dia, took refuge under-ueath the bed clothes from a skirmishing party of musquitoes. At last, one of them gasping from heat, ventured to peep beyond tbe bulwarks, and by chance espied a fire fly which had strayed into the room. Arousing his compan ion with a punch, he said, “Fergus, it’s no use. Ye might as well come out! Here’s one of the craythexs sarchin’ for us wid a lantern." A lover consulted a lawyer about carrying off an heiress. You must not carry her off,” said the latvyer, “but she can carry you off, Let her mount a horse and hold the bridle and whip, and then you get up behind her, and let her run away with you andyou’ll be Safe.” The next morning thelaw r yer found that hi* daughter had trn away with the said young man n the aforesaid manner. CARTERSVILLE ADVERTISEMENTS. REMOVAL. TOM BMDGrES Has rsmoved his EATING SALOON AND CONFECTIONERY, To Judge Parrott’s new build ing, under Town Hall, C.IRTERST'MEL,E, 6.1. Ol aud after the loth instant, Single Heal. 50 Cents. Hoard—per month, 818. FRESH OYSTERS Confectioneries, Fruits, and Family Groceries ke; t on hand and for sale. sep lo METALIC AND WOOD (IMITATION ROSEWOOD,) BURIAL CASE C A S K i-. T .3. BY Erwin & Jones. Carerrsville, aug. 22 BARTOW HOUSE, CARTERSVILLE, GEORGIA, J. T. Guthrie, Propritor. IS now in thorough repair, and fully prepar ed to entertain all who may call. The rooms and furniture are kept in the neatest order, and the Tables supplied with the best the Market affords. No pains or expense will be spared to render all guests of the House comfortable. A NEAT BAR Is kept, in rear of Office, where fine Winess Brandies, Champagnes, Cigars, etc., can always be touna oct6 WILLIAM (JODIE, mm sc REAR OF W. C EDWARDS’ O- ea r Shop, CARTERSYILLi; GEO. I AM prepared to do as good'work, and will do it cheaper than any shoe-maker in town. All I ask in proof, is a fair trial. Half-soleing, Foxing, and making Boots and Shoes, out and out new, is my business. Don’t fail to give me a trial, that is all I ask to secure custom, oct. 24, ’7l-swly. Groceries and Provisions. J. G. M. Montgomery, BEGS leave to return his thanks to the good people of Cartersville and vicin ity, for their generous patronage for the past year, and to ask a continuance of the same for 1871. I shall try, at all times, to keep a com plete stock of Good Family Groceries, and shall, in the future as iu the past, sell them at “Live and Let Live” prices. Try me. Fresh Arrivals. Ilominy, Buckwheat, Flour, White Fish, Trout, and choice New Grleans Syrups, at MONTGOMERY’S. Can Goods, etc. A full line, including Oysters, Salmon, Lobsters, Peaches Strawberries, Cherries, Pine Apples, Green Corn, Green Peas, To mattoes, at MONTGOMERY’S, Bread Leavens, «fce. The celebrated “Horsford’s Bread Prepa ration,” Corn Starch, Silken Gloss. Starch, Desicated Cocoa Nut, Maccaroni, Pickles, Jellies, and a fine assortment of Colgate’s Toilet Soaps, at MONTGOMERY’S. Just Received Buckets, Tubs, Brooms, Baskets, Washboards, Trays, Scrub Brushes, Rope, and Seives, at MONTGOMERY’S. For sale, at MONTGOMERIES. geo. jTbriant (Is himself again.) WHOLESALE and RETAIL DEALER IN All Kinds and Qualities of Liquors, And can (Sell jts Cheap as any other DeaLr in the Souths AID WILL BO IT ! OILY Try Him ! He also keeps a number one slwk of FAMILY GROCERIES and CONFECTIONERIES, On Eastside of the Railroad. GEO. J. BRIAIT. apr. lwly CARTERSVILL.E* GA. IT IS EVEN SO ! ! The station is fast becoming a CITY", Thkkefore, you should endeavor to make all things NEW ! ! ! PAINT! PAINT! PI?! you wish it done right— I If you wish it done at low figures— you wish it done promptly— U®*-CALL ONJjjgp* J. W. DYER, feb. *l-w2m CARTERSVILLE, GA. ATLANTA ADVERTISEMENTS. Fbrioe&go., ATLANTA, GA. TO MERCHANTS! FRESH INVOICES CUTLERY! ASSORTED CRATES NOW ARRIVING FANCYGOODS An Immense Invoice especially for CHRISTMAS k HOLIDAYS! New and Elegant Goods FOR DOLLAR STORES AND FIFTY CKXTS STORES, Decorated Dinner AND TEA SEITTS, KNIVES AND FORKS, CASTERS, GOBLETS, VASES FROM AUCTION, CHEAPER THAN 1 U*Y CAN BE BOUGTII FROM MANUFACTURERS. nov3o ts. LAWSHE & HAYNES, Have on hand and are receiving the finest stock of the Very Latest Styles of Diamond and Gold JEWELRY, in upper Georgia, selected, with cat care for the Fall and Winter Trade. Watches, of the BEST MAKERS, of both Europe and A merica; American and French Clocks; sterling and Coin Silver Ware; and the best quality of Silver Plated Goods, at prices to suit the times; Gold, Silver and Steel Spectacles, to suit all ages Watches and Jewelry Repaiesd by Competent Workmen; Also Clock aud Watcli Makers Tools and Materials. sept 13,-swly ATLANTA, GA. SHARP &FLOYD, Successors to Geo. SHARP, Jr., ATLANTA, GtY„ Wholesale And Retail Jewelers. Wc Keep a Large and Varied Assortment ot FINE WATCHES, CLOCK, DIAStOxVOS, JEWELRY, AND SPECTACLES. SOLID SILVER WARE, A SPECIALTY. We Manufactuae Tea Sets, Forks, Spoons. Goblets, Cups, Knives, etc. Jfyemiums A'gtricultuiial Tfai»[S. We arc prepared to fill any order for Fairs at short notice; also to give any information in regard to Premium*. Orders by mail or in person, will receive prompt and careful attention. We ask a com parison of Stock, Prices and Workmanship with any house in the State. Watches and Jewelry carefully Repaired and Warranted. Masonic Badges aud Sunday School Badges made to order. All Work Guaranteed. ENGRAVING FREE OF CHARGE. SHARP; & FLOYD. May 33, swly. F. ffl. RICHARDSON, Dealer in Stoves, Grates, House - Furnishing Goods, TIN WARE, «fcC., Corner Whitehall and Hunter Streets, Atlanta, Ga. jan- 1, 1871-vrly [NEW SERIES, VOL I-NO. 7 R. F. MADDOX, WHOLESALE DEALER IN Tobacco, Segars, AND LIftUOES, ail-Road Crossing, National Hotel Block, ATLANTA, GA. Agent for the sale of Virginia and North Carolina Tobaccos. may 9-wly SIXTY-FIVE FIRST PRISE MEDALS AWARDED, WM. KNABE & CO., Manufacturers of PIANO FORTES, R.tLTINOBK, JI1». These Instruments have been before the Pub lic for nearly Thirty Years, and upon their «. celleuce attained an vnpurcktuied. iire-em>’’tenet which pronounces them unequaled, in ’ ' ’ TONE, TOUCH, WORKMANSHIP, And DURABILITY. I@“ All our Square Pianos have our New Improved Ovkrstki no Scale and tlio Agraffe Treble, fcgf-We would call special attention to our late Patented Improvements in GRAND pt ANOS and SQUARE GRANDS, found in no other Piano, whioh tiring the Piano nearer Per fection than has yet been attained, EVERY PIANO FULLY WARRANTED FOR FIVE YEARS. Weir' \\ e are bv special arrangement enabled to furnish PARtOK ORGANS and MELO DKONS of the most celebrated makers, Whole sale und Retail at lowest Factory Prices. Illustrated ( atalogues and Price Lists prompt ly luruislicd 011 application to WM- KNABE & CO., Baltimore, Md. Or any of ouf regular established ageuce oct 23-tec St. Louis, Memphis, & Nashville Chattanooga Railroad Line. CEJTTn.IL SHOUT ROUTE Without change of Cars to Nashville, Mc- Kenzie, Union City, Hickman, Columbus, Humboldt, Brownsville, and Memphis. To Jackson, Tenn., Paducah, Ky„ Little Rock. Cairo, and St. Louis. Thun via Memphis or Louisville, and Iroiu Than via Corinth or Grand Junction. ASK FOR TICKETS TO Memphis and the Southwest via Chatta nooga and McKenzie, AND TO St.'Louis and the’Northwest via Nashville and Columbus—all Rail; or Nashville an Hickman—Rail and River. For Emigrants, with More Advantages, Quicker Time, and Fewer Changes 4/ Cars than any Other Route. . Tickets for Sale at all Principal Ticket Offices in the South. J YV. THOMAS, Gcn’l Sup’t. W. L. DANLEY' G. P. 4 T. A. march6tc W. H. GII.BEKT. A.BAXTBH, T. W. BAXTBR, Jr. GILBERT* BAITER, (SUCCESSORS TO W. H. GILBERT & C 0.,) DE.IEERs Ll* HARDWARE, IRON, STEEL, NAILS, Clover and Grass Seed, AGENTS FOIi SALE OF Coal Creek Coal. Peruvian Griiano. And other Fertilizers. Agricultural Implements, AGRICULTURAL L MILL MACHINERY. ALSO GENERAL COMMISSION MERCHANTS For sale and Purchase of COTTON, WHEAT, CORN. And all other COUNTRY PRODUCE. COTTON, HAY, AND OTHER PRODUCE SHIPPED ON LIRERAL TERMS. GILBERT & BAXTER, Cartersville Ga, Jan. 19, 1871—ly. NEW GOODS, WE ARE Daily receiving from New York a New Stock oi FALL «& WINTER GOODS to which we invite the attention of our friends and customers generally. We intend, if possi ble, to sell so as to give satisfaction both in ref erence to GOODS AND PRICES. Call and See Us, W E ARE also prepared to purchase Cotton, or advance money to Farmers on Cotton when DELIVERED! Holding the same until such time as the Farm er may order it sold, charging a reasonable rate of interest for money advanced. N. GILREATH & SON. Cartersville, Ga., Sept. 96-ts New Route to Mobile* New Orleans Vicksburg and Texas. o Blue Mountain Route Railroad and its Connec tions. 0 PASSENGERS LEAVIMG ATLATA BY THE Six A. M. TRAIN OF THE WESTERN; & ATLANTIC, arrive at Rome at 10 A. M., making close connection with fast express traix Os Selma. Dalton and Rome Railroad, arriving at Selma at 8:10, P. M. and making close connections with train oi Alabama Central Railroad, arriving at Meridian .4:00a.m. Jackson 11:50 A. M Vicksburg p M ALSO, make close connection at CALEBA with trains of South and North Alabama Rail road, arriving at Montgomery 7:10 p. m Mobile A ‘ M " New Orleans 4:25 P- ‘ The road has recently been equipped and its equipment is not surpassed by any in South for strength and beauty of finish. ffey"*No change of cars between Rome and Selma. PIJLLXAN’S PALACE CARS P ll } through from ROME VIA MONTGOMERY to MOBILE, without change. NO DELAY AT TERMINAL POINTS. Fare as low ashy any other Route. *s® Purchase Tickets via Kingston at tha General Ticket Offlce, or at the H. L Kimball House. JOHN B. PECK, „ _ General Passenger Agent. E. G. BARNEY, _ General Superintendent. E. V. JOHNSON, Local Agent, oct. 2—ts No. 4 Kimball House, Atlanta [Terms—s2 A YEAR
