Newspaper Page Text
r
When he is oohe,
^Vhcn he is gone how dnrk the night!
Nor floes the flay seem Very bright,
When he is gone.
The birds do not pause on the wing
And round the old porch doorway sling,
Their swe« t«*st song 1 " of joy to sing,
When he ie gone.
The roses do not seem as sweet,
Fomehow. as when we used to meet,
Rut he is gon".
At evening as I sit and g ir.a
Into the heavens with stars ablaze
I only think o? other days,
No w h s gone.
The world nt large teem 1 ? far !*'sa gay,
The kitten, even, will not play,
When he is gon°.
Within my hemt Ihero is no song,
But saddest thoughts tho hours prolong,
Which »wm to me m cenf’ries long
When he in gone.
7 wonder if he thinks of ms
To-day, wherever he my l/e,
For he is gone.
I wonder •'hall I ope my eyes
Home morning, and with gla l surprise
Tell him how soon iny poor heart dies
When he is gone?
TYVO WOMEN.
I j^ES, I said it,”
said Miss Abi
g ft 1 1 Cutler ;
“I said it, and
I’m willing to
>> say it again.
J t was the
l U 1 'V truth, and tho
m 1 ruth’s good
enough to be
AT '—r spoke at ail
times. ’
Miss P1 u Ul¬
mer, 111 * little spinster seamstress
stayed for a moment her industrious
hands on t » buttonhole and looked
up in sumo excitement, There had
been n quarrel between Mis'* Abigail
nn-l her cousin, Mrs. Pronf. Some
tiling had been said by one or the
other of them which never had been,
and, as believed by some of the neigh¬
bors, never could be, forgiven, No
one had exactly understood what it
was. It was now evident that tho
something was to bo told, and no
wonder .Miss Plummer was excited.
“\V hat 1 saiil was no more nor loss
than this,” went on Miss Abigail. “I
said” (with a lowered voice and im¬
pressive slowness), ‘Jane Perkins
I’rout’—Perkins was her maiden name,
▼on know—Uncle Eli Perkins over to
Briar Mill—‘Jane Perkins Prout,
you’re no better than a heathen yoiu
self.’ "
Miss Plummer drew a long breath.
“ That wasn’t Bucli a dro.ulfnl thing
to say,” she said, in a little dit-ap
pointmont. “I don t think wo ought
♦ <> lay it up against tho heathen that
they are heathen, you know; they
cn ' 1 L l'clp it.
“No, I haven’t got anything special
ngainat the heathen myself. But that
wasn’t all. I kop’ on, nn l says I,
You re near and close-listed.’ ”
I hat was bail!” Miss Plummer was
quite satisfied.
«* but 1 m- ant it, and I ain't
n,'A£ ir £°i*i t‘> take it back, because
it’s JW^true vrinnstvs a worthy ^-oke.~
the 1 always had a near
streak about’em. Old Squire Perkius
never could bo got to give a cent to
foreign missions. Seemed to have T.
born prejudice against ’em. Hal Tt
wty^br Rayin' he’d a great sight rather
give to things closer home. Near! —
why, Jauo Prout’s a sight uear’n her
father ever was. I told her so. I knew
when 1 did it slic’d get mad ; but I
didn’t cate. Ytul now if she’s made
up her mind to keep it up she can.”
“Over Thanksgivin ?” The little
seamstress said it with a gasp.
“1 s’pose so. I ain’t one of the sort
that apologizes for spenkin’ the truth.
^ hero uro you goiu' to spend to
morrow, Miss Plummer ?”
Miss Abigail said this to change the
subject; for, truth to sav, her own
heart tailed her a little at thought of
carrying a quarrel of any kind over
Thanksgiving Day, and she did not
care to discuss it.
Miss Plummer brightened up in a
chirrupy, birdliko fashion, as she an¬
swered :
“Oh, to home. Me and mother’s
never spent it auy wheres else since 1
can remember. I thought to myself
at first we was goiu’ to have rather a
doleful time, teein’ we moved hero
strangers last spring; but there’s a
family livin’ here that’s cousins to
father's th t wife’s children by her
first marriage- not so very near re
lated, you’d say, but near enough to
give the feelin' of havin’ one’s own
folks. \ud mother always says what's
Ibanksgivin' il you can’t have some of
your own kin with you?—I mean' —
suddenly remembering that she had
neither seen nor heard of anything
like hospitable festivity since she had
come this first time to sow for Miss
(hitler 'd mean, of course, for- folks
that thinks that way, you know.”
W itli which weak ending Miss Plum
mcr gave h« r full attention to the
buttonholes.
“I don’t mind tollin'you,"said Miss
Abigail, “all the reason besides that-I
have for feelin' us tho me and Jane
Prout weren’t very friendly, it was
long before you moved here. There
came a strange minister and preached
*—Miss a sermon on foreign missions. Now '
Abigail gave an energetic shake
of her head—“I’ve heard missionary
talks all my life. I’ve kept track of
allthe missionaries sent ont by the
Board. I’ve belonged to the Mission
ary Society ever sence I was big
enongb. I’ve w orked for fairs, and
I’ve packed home missionary
mid tended monthly concerts regular,
besides always resilin' the missionary
column of my Sunday paper; and I'm
free to could -s that never in all mv
life have I been stirred as I was bv what
at man said. ’
“H’m, said Miss Plummer, as Miss
Abigail paust d as if expecting a reply,
“Never ! Jane Prout w as there,
Wouldn’t a-been, I guess, if she’d ’a'
known what tho sermon was agoin’ to
be. Well, it was on mv mind all tK>
tune to wonder if Jane wouldn't b<
clear broke up-her hardnes.-, vou
know, about foreign missions-bv
what she heard. And I knew then
was plenty other, in the congregation
that thought the same way. She sat
in a backseat, anl 1 could
of’em a-lookiu tidewava toward her
When weetinwa. out ion.r of us
$***ttl\ *Sid in Ihr entry linin' oil,
*jrt« t »tyin' WMb’t il the met*
THE MONROE ADVERTISER, FORSYTH. GA. TUESDAY. NOVEMBER 27, 1894. - EIGHT FA UES.
impressivest thing weM ever heard,
when -Jane canto ont. Anti, of course,
w * looked to Bee how she took
it. W you believe she was soft¬
ened and tearful? Not she. Right
down tho aisle Bhe had walked and
right out among us she come, with
her lips set together hard. And when
we turned to her and wanted to shake
hands and sa v somethin’ about its bein’
just fitted for her and we hoped she’d
heed the word in season, what did she
do but walk right ont without a word,
good or bad, to anybody. The next
time I went to see her I said all I
should have said at the meelin’ if she
had give mo a chance. And then she
set her lips together again and
wouldn’t say a word. And after I’d
spoke what I thought was my duty on
the subject I woundup by tellin’her
what I told you. It’s true, Undo Eli
did once in a while givo to other
things, but Jane never does. That
was three years ago. Jane and me
ain’t spoke sence. I’m willin’ to if
she was; but I s pose she’s watin’ for
me to beg her pardon, and, as 1 said,
l don’t do tliat forspeakin’ the truth.”
“•Still, it seems a kind of pity,”
venture! Miss Plummer, thinkiag
with an inward sight of the well-stored
cellar anl larder, all running over
with provisions for the holiday cheer
that was not to be.
“Yes, I see it so, myself,” said Miss
Abigail; “ ’specially after all the
changes we’ve had this past year. I
always s’posed my brother and his
luinily would ’a’ been satisfied to stay
hero on tho old place. But they
wasn’t, and sence he sold off the best
part of the farm and went West you
may guess it’s lonely enough here.
Nut that I’m findin’ any fault, He’s
got boys to look after, and it’s no
blame to him if he thinks he can do
bettor for ’em somewhere else. I’ve
got just enough land left to keep up
the old home, and you may be sure
I’m goiu’ to hold on to that. But
there’s no denyin’ ”—with a mournful
shake of her head—“that it’s no end
quiet and forlorn now there’s no
young things about to make it lively.”
“Makes iny heart fairly ache to
think of the stillness, when it had
ought to be tho other way,” afterward
declared Miss Plummer to her mother,
while doing her best to make the
most of their own small means for
showing hospitality.
A forlorn quiet indeed it was which
settled over the comfortable old home¬
stead with tho dying out of the sound
of Miss Plummer’s footsteps, as in the
enrl.V twilight she took her departure.
Never had Miss Abigail found the
stillness so depressing. And over h«r
heart came a heavy sense of the aw
fulness of tho condition in which she
found herself.
“Thanksgivin* Eve, and not a sight
or sound or smell of Thanksgivin’on
the place!” It seemed a kind of sac
rilege. “But it ain’t my fault,” she
maintained stoutly to herself.
But in tho hush and the unaccus
turned hour of rest, made necessary by
the unusual eft’ort of sewing with Mies
Plummer in order to thriftly make the
most of these few days of hired sewing,
thought hud its way with tho mistress
of the old farmhouse; and conscience,
backed by memories of days long gone
by, came to crowd its way to the
n t- When the house had been full
of merry- voices*- and busy h ands at
holiday in pujt<’vq, times i.iv)#?Tf^^ieeiing sh^jVajjj l ’' of self- Bf
reproach in regard to her difference
with her cousin; but now her heart
turned with longing to the only ones
of her kimlred who remained within
sound of her voice or clasp of her
hand.
“P’raps I was a little sharp on
Jane,” she admitted to herself. “But
it was true, every word of it. And
she’d no call to be so sniffy when I
said what it was my plain duty to say.
But, Jane’s had a heap of trouble—
widowed, aud not gettin’ along over
well. It them boys and girls of hers
was here to morrew they’d take the
stillness out of the house. But noth
in’s ready for folks. And, anyways”—
with renewed energy — “it’s just as
much Jane Front’s place to make up
to me ns mine to her.”
The mournful creak of her rocking
chair echoed dismally through the
hush. She grew nervous, and at
length arose suddenly to her feet.
“There ain’t no need of my bein’
a heathen, even if I ain’t got anybody
to make holiday for. Caleb’s goin’
for dinner to his own folks, but that
young turkey can be cooked to-mor
vow just rs well as not. It never shall
be said in mv day that Thanksgivin’
Day went over in this house and no
turkey cooked. It out to be bangin’
up for a few days, only I’ve been too ;
busy w ith the sewin’ to think of it.
Caleb’s gone out and won't be back
till late, but I can go and kill it—and
glad to have somethin’ to do to forget
the quiet.
Taking the lantern, Miss Abigail
made her way to the henhouse. The
turaey was secured, and its innocent
head wrung from its body; then,
turning toward the house,she stumbled
over some sawed wood with which
Caleb was about to begin a new pile
for the winter’s use. Striving to re
cover her footing, she stepped upon a
round stick, which rolled under her
foot. 'The turkey could be dropped
but uot the lantern, for that would
break. And the end cf it was that
; all her efforts made its final come
down far worse than if she had given
up at once. The foot from under
which the stick had roiled turned at
her attempt at a step with it, and she
j fell helplessly, breaking the lantern
and cutting her wrist with a fragment
j of the glasr.
Poor Miss Abigail could never after
ward recall without a shudder what
she endured that night getting herself
into the house and upstairs to her
! room. Once there she bound a com
press around the sprained foot, and in
the relief afforded by the cooling an
plication fell asleep, full of hope that
the morning would prove the injury
! only temporary. But, her fatigue par
tially with" slept oft, she awoke in the night
just euousrh pain to keep he rest
less; and now the train of long ttifled
’ possession and held
thought “ took of
her.
“My own cousin, mv own blood re
lation* that I've been* harborin’ hard
fedin’s against all this time! Think
of the v.ars that me and Jane Perkins
played* toother: And after she was
muried, aud come to live nearby, ’V
and we both was .lu-T.ver so glad, wbo’d
thought me and come to
word*? \nd I»e br. in this
houat aud Aaiksu’tift' »w«l htft» Mid
not a kith nor a kin to sit at ray.’table!
And—the Lord forgive me! —it’s all
my own fault. It was me that done
it; and it’s me that’ll see it right,
come this blessed Thanksgivin' morn
in’. I’ll have Caleb hitch up, and I’ll
go over and say to Jane. “Jane, let's
offer the sacrifice of thanksgivia’ by
lettin’ bygones be bygones.’ And if
I know mj cousin Jane, she’s not the
one to turn away from me.”
A later uneasy sleep brought Miss
Abigail to the dim dawning of the
November day to realize that the set¬
ting of her swollen and inflamed foot
to the ground was a thing not to be
thought of. She heard Caleb’s lum¬
bering tramp upon the back stairs,
and knew every movement by which,
in the kitchen below, he kindled the
fire, set over it a kettle of water fresh
from the well, filled the woodbox,
and then went out to attend to the
farm animals. What should she do?
“Not a soul to wait on me. If I
had any one to give me a little help, I
could get dressed and get to a chair—
perhaps downstairs. But with not a
neighbor near enough to call in ; and
if there was, folks has enough of their
own doin’s to see to this mornin’.
And Caleb never could get up a mite
of anything to eat. I’ve never seen
a day in my life that 1 couldn’t some
way manage to get up and do.”
Tears over her forlorn outlook
forced themselves to her eye3— eyes
usually so bright with self-reliant
spirit. In the absence of the usual
morning stir the house seemed, if
possible, more quiet than ever. Hear¬
ing Caleb’s step again below she called
him to her closed doo
“Caleb!”
“Yes’m. ’
“I can't get up—just yet. You get
some breakfast for yourself, aud see
that the fire's all safe.”
“Yes’m.”
“When it’s time for you to go, you
go whether I'm down or not.”
“Yes’m.”
“I wonder what kind of a muddle
he’ll leave things in,” she groaned,
turning impatiently upon her piilow
as she listened to further movements
in her neat kitchen. Presently the.e
was a sound of wheels stopping at the
side gate. Miss Abigail’s face sharp¬
ened into an expression of intent lis¬
tening.
“There goes Caleb out, talkin’ to
somebody. Now, if he isn’t a-bring
in’ somebody in 1 I’m not one of the
sort,” falling back upon her pillow in
great discontent, “that likes strange
folks a-patterin’ round my house.”
Light steps below were taking the
place of Caleb’s heavy ones. Caleb
went out, but swift movements could
still be heard with subdued rattling
of stove and dishes; and before many
minutes had passed the light steps,
sounded on the stairs—at the door.
It opened to show a woman with a
tray in her hand.
“Jane Perkins!”
For a moment she stood, while the
two looked iuto each other’s eyes witn
a gaze which grew misty. Then Jane
set down the tray and took her cousin
into her arms.
“You poor thing! All alone !”
“Jane—how did you come to come?
How could you, when I treated you
so?”
“NeUgs^ind that.”
your brcfSlIst before it gets"^bni”
She set beside her the tray with its
smoking coffee, cream toast and
peached eggs.
“How could I help cornin’?” asked
Jane Prout, when, half an hour later,
the subject was renewed. Have you for¬
got that it’s the blessed Thanksgivin’
Day? Have you forgot how, from
children, we none of us ever let the
day go by harborin’ an angry feelin’
toward auy one? And I knew you
was alone for this first time. And—
I’ve felt all the time, the nearer and
nearer I got to the day, that I must
come to you—if you wouldn’t come to
me—aud ask your forgiveness.”
“Oh, Jane, I was agoin’—I w r as, in¬
deed. And isn’t it a judgment on me
that just as I was ready to I couldn’t?
But there ain’t anything for you to
forgive. It was all me.”
“Yes there is,” said Jane. “To be
sure I didn’t say nothin’; but to my
mind, Abby, you can sin by not sayin’
as well as by sayin’. Now’—about
them foreign missionaries — and
Father”— Her voice choked as old
memories of the day and of those who
had made it a day to be remembered
brought tears to the eyes of both.
“He made a mistake^—Father did.
But I’m sure he would have made it
right if he had lived to have his eyes
opened as mine have been. Do you
remember that missionary sermon,
Abby?”
“Yes, who could forget it:’*
“It went to my heart like a knite.
I seen it then as I’d never seen it be
fore. And I thought of all the years
I’d been neglecting my privileges—
and Father”—another choke —“that
always meant to do his duty if ever a
man did—only we all have our short¬
eomin’s. Well—that day I couldn’t
have spoke to no one, my heart was
bo full. And from that time I made
up my mind I’d do for Father what
he’d’a done if he had lived to see it.
I’ve been givm’ for him and myself
sence—and countin’, too, for the years
that went by without it—”
“Oh, Jane!”
“Yes, and it skimps me some, as
you can guess. So I ain’t had much
to giTe to other things.”
“Jane, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Yes, that’s it. Why didn't I? Just
’cause an old devil of obstinacy took
a-hold of me. When you come
talkin’ to me about my duty I made
up my mind I'd let you think as you
j pleased about it and," she laughed,
“it wa 3 a little tough on me, I’m
willin' to owb, to come to you, Abby;
but how could I let the day go by and
vou and me like strangers?”
“And now—Mrs. Prout began to
bustle brisklv about the room—“the
buggy’s out there and Peter’s a
waitin’; and I told Caleb cot to go
\ till I’d seen whether we needed his
help. And the girls p.nd boys at home
’ won’t feel as tho the day had begun
till you get there.”
! • “Now, Jane?”
“Don’t vou sav one word. I’m
! agoin to fix vou up, and we’ll have
vou out in the buggy in a jiffy. J
‘was alraid from what Caleb told ma
when I first come that it might be
something that’d keep you at home.
But bless the Lord, it isn't. And for
all some of ns is out West—and-soma
nf n , over the mcr, vrii .
‘ I>»y,
? BUDGET ~*F FlJY
LI L I
! HUMOROUS
i SKETCHES FROM
i VARIOUS SOURCES.
Where He Made a Mistake—A Char
acterlstlc Statement— Tit for
Tat—A Problem—In the
Grocery, Utc.
He seems to thin', since at the fair
He took the highest prlza,
There is no lurth r call lor him
His goods to advertise.
But this is whsr*» io make mistakes
The fellow has i*egon,
For since he do sa*t advertise,
Why no one knows he won.
—Detroit Tribune.
A characteristic statement.
First Girl—“Cholly savs lie read an
Article Second that Girl—“That set hire to thinking.”
t©U the truth.”—Washington boy never could
Star,
PIT FOB TAT.
The Wife (during a spat)—The vii
lian in the play is always a man.”
The Husband—“Yes, and it is
always a woman that makes him one.”
--New York World.
12? TUB GBOCEBT.
Customer—“Have you any mack¬
erel?”
Clerk— * ‘Y essum. ”
Customer—>“What kind are they?”
Clerk—“Dead ones, mum.”—De¬
troit Free Press.
A PROBLEM.
Kingley—“You look thoughful, old
»nan.
Dauber —“iTtm. My father-in-law
just gave my wife fifty dollars for a
birthday pre3e*-iy and I was w*onder
ing how I would spend it.” —Puck.
SMALL BOY’S VIEW.
Mother—“There goes another one
pf those dirty tramps. J tan’t Bee why
they don’t keep clean, anyhow.”
Small Son—“Mebby w’en they was
little their mothers made them wash
so often they got sick of it.”—Good
New*.
A MAN OF HIS WORD.
Mr. Office-boy—“Won't you sit down?
Quill left word that he would be
back in ten minutes.”
Client—“How long has he been
gone?”
—Judge. Office-boy— ;Ob, ’bout two hours. ”
NOT IN HIS TOWER.
Janitor of Skyflats (gruffly)—“What
nre you doing n the vestibule at this
time of night? Are you one of the
tenants?”
Tom De Witt-“No, I’m not! So
you’d better be-' civil or I’ll break your
head.”—Life.
STORMY WEATHER.
Wishlets—“Did you get wet the
other night, going home in that terri¬
ble rainstorm?”
Bishlets—“No; whedl I got home all
right; but l got iuto the house
my wife soake. yinu for staying out so
not T«
Teacher — “V\l
ported the Pupil-3 worll
Teacher—“Ad Bright
Atlas?”
Bright Pupil- his-!
but I guess
—Truth.
EASILY -.XFL AIMED.
Jones—“I v oi le* why poets wear
their hair long?”
Brown—“Didd'tyou ever have your
hair ettt?”
“Yes, of course. What’s that got
to do with it?”
“Lots. Didn’t you have to pay for
it?”—Life.
ERACTICAL,
Susan (after the proposal) — “And
shall Phare to send ali back the letters
I ever received from my former admir¬
ers?”
Tom—“Oh, no! They may come in
handy for lighting the kitchen fire
some morning after we are married. ”
—Brooklyn Eagle.
MEMORY ASSISTERS.
Bruce -“What have you got that
piece of red ribbon on your watch
far?”
Spruce—“My wife put it there for
me to remember something for her.”
Bruce—“Remember what?”
Spruce—“That’s just what I can’t
remember. ”—Judge.
AN UNREASONABLE PUBLIC.
Clerk—“Mr. Blinks was just in to
say that you hadn’t sent a man to fix
his pipes.”
Plumber—“He’s about the fortieth
man to come in with that story to-day.
I wonder if people think we haven’t
anything to do but sit here and listen
to complaints.”—Puck.
-
an objection.
Mr. Push—“I regret to hear that
vou are opposing the nomination of
Major Rantwell to the Legislature.
He is a good talker, and would make
a useful member.”
Mr. Pull—“My objection is that his
speeches are too much like a political
procession—he is point/”-»-Puck. always four hours in
passing a eiven
-
a shrewd matchmaker.
p fl t PP _“V 0 s j P - t „„ n nn » „n n _.
T0U Snitor_“ButT | 0 marxy mv daughter lov<Ther ”
*
»”
Piter “There’s a familv seeret * ,
m n«t tell vou ”
Snitor--“^neak sueafe t”
Pater_“There’s insanity in the
*
family. She is deranged. ”
Suitor “What is her mania th rn“~”
Pater “Her desire to marry vou ’ ”
* ‘
PmA
_
impbessiow impression.
. tW , T ne ^ von he sighed,
- ’
,. 1 T that I could conquer destiny
° b > f w< *^. f . he re B hed r . '
It w true. Did you realize that + .
^ hre me with entnusiasm?
N °’ she re P lle d. i don t know
anything about that. Bat I do know,”
' b * T f.S., OU • Mflac
1 1 *V * *tny are»»d hf»«
Star, much longer Paw will.”—Washington
j
too CAynors,
Cautions people are sometimes too
cautions. The story of a man who
considered seriously for a week
whether it would be wise for him to
pay $500 for a lot, and after deciding
in the affirmative learned from the
real estate man in a more careful con¬
versation that it was §500 per front
foot is a case in point.
A few days ago a stranger, while
passing a haberdasher’s store, was at
tracted by a display of shirts, which
were further distinguished 'by a pla¬
card on which was printed the legend,
“These nre seventy-five cents.” It
happened that in the same case were a
few silk umbrellas, which command
about SO each on a pleasant day, with
a slight tendency to raise if clouds
gather. The pedestrian gazed long
and earnestly into the window; then
he wandered away, only to return
soon and gaze again. This was re¬
peated several times.
Finally he entered the store and
asked to look at tho umbrellas. One
was brought out and he opened and
examined it with the utmost care. It
seemed to suit him exactly, and he
turned to the proprietor and re¬
marked, “I’ll give you nn even sixty
cents for it.” The proprietor evi¬
dently didn’t think he understood
aright, for he leaned forward and
said, “What?” The stranger again
informed him, “I’ll give you an even
sixty cents for the umbrella.” Tho
proprietor was dazed. Then he began
to recover.
“How much do you think it costs?”
he inquired.
“Seventy-five cents.”
“And you have been debating all
this time whether you would give that
amount for a silk umbrella?”
The stranger said he had.
The proprietor led him gently but
firmly to the door. “My friend,” he
said tenderly, “you aro too far from
home, and you’ll better scoot before
some hungry car horse gets a chance
to nibble at you and makes a funeral
before the mistake is discovered.”—
St. Paul Pioneer-Press.
The Feauut and Chestnut Season.
The chestnut supply of this market
comes mainly from Maryland, Virginia
and this State. The first shipments
come in late in September, and the
last about two months afterward.
About 200,000 bushels, equal to 12,
000,000 pounds, of domestic chestnuts
are annually sold in this market.
Italian and French chestnuts, which
are larger and with coarser and less
sweet kernels than domestic chestnuts,
begin to arrive about the middle of
October, and cease about New Year’s.
The wholesale price of the first lots
received is usually twelve cents a
pound, and of the last lots six cents a
pound. The quantity usually im¬
ported, mainly from Italy, is about
20,000 packages of 250 pounds each,
equal to 5,000,000 pounds, which, to¬
gether with the domestic crop of 12,
006,000 pounds, gives a total annual
supply of about 17,000,000 pounds.
Peanuts, which formerly catne almost
wholly from Africa, are new noas-v to 1
produced in Virginia. T|aey begin
come in about November l afc>. 1 am ten
mu’'-"si fchawn-hmt
||p fs 4 \ price i u'U'tllv ) t |.,,n:• o'. !- -:t
•
ami tlw --dig price
a sack. On account of the
oily nature of raw peanuts, they may
be held in store for a full year with¬
out deteriorating more than about
three per cent, in quality.
Chestnuts compete sharply with pea¬
nuts, while they last, but, as the chest¬
nut withers aud becomes worthless in
a few months, it invariably has to
yield the palm to the greater longevity
of the plebian peanut. Rivalry be¬
tween p>ennut-sel]ers and chest
nut-sellers is always active throughout
the chestnut season, and during the
next two or tlijee month?, wherever
the cry of “Roasta peanutta!” may be
heard from one vender, there will go
forth from another the equally reso¬
nant announcement, “Roasta chosta
nutta!”—New York Tribune.
The Fate ot Three Soldiers.
Trout fishermen who have been
camping in the mountains of Clay
County, West Virginia, made a ghast¬
ly find a few* days ago. Two of the
campers were hunting about two miles
from their camp on Big Sycamore
creek when they came across a big
landslide that occurred some time ago.
The men climbed over a cliff to a flat
place below, and were astonished to
And themselves standing in front of n
deep hollow* or cave which extended
under the cliff quite a distance.
On the shingle floor of the cave they
found three skeletons enwrapped in
what must have been at one time
; f° rras > which at the time were so
; ro ^ en crumbled into pieces
w hen touched. Two more guns and
several pistols of the old style muzzle
loading variety were also found, all
°* w Licli were covered with thiem
coa ^ n 3 8 °f rust. Several corroded
}jrass buttons were picked up, some
m e< ^ Wltu the letters “L. S.,’
I ,. tbe ot lcrs bad “C. S. A."
stamed , their r faces.
j on •
H IS believed that some time during
'- ODiec ‘ e ^ ate soldiers with a
prisoner had taken possession
ti)e c *7. e as a P !ace of shelter, and
toat—whi.e , asneep, perhaps the
sur
face earth aoove had slipped down and
cover ®d up tae mouth of the cave,
completely burying them. This was
proba fly the case, as the ground
showed indications ot an old land
j slide. Notiung was found on or about
j any of the skeletons to identify any of
I ° we ^. e * a ^ e u ® a ^ °*
j the cave and buried. St.LouisGlobe- . .
? ^ >emocrat ‘
! M|| _
‘‘Wild Cat Money.'’
V ^' a t m ° ne y was a errn applied ,
the ^P^eciate Civii War . l but paper more money particularly before
| to the notes ot the banks of the State
| of Michigan, which had on their face
> tha picture of a panther It was ap
‘ pUed to the bRl of this bank by those
who had suffered loss by taking them.
H was one of the several opprobrious
epithets giving to tae money issued
j by banks doing business under State
j Chart*™, M web we totha banks them
; HlW M* Ptapftl»h<
P. P. P i
PRICKLY ASH, POKE ROOT
AND POTASSIUM
Makes
Marveious Cures
jn Blood Poison
Rheumatism
and Scrofula
r. P P purities the blood, builds up
the 'to we.kenod' * ’ expel*
Ft l encth ne r health' v o s
dis eases. Riving the patient nml
happiness . where sickness, gloomy
........... <■,:,<
sf-ras. , sr&»*583S: &
blotches, pimples, old chronic ulcers,
cczVma—we*\nay Woodturner "sliyI* \vi t hont S fenr°of
positive, speedy m “the'world,' andmakls
and permanent cures
in all eases.
and Ladles whose whoso blood systems is In impure nre poisoned conG
an
tlon, due to menstrual benefited irregularities, the
uliarly onic and blood cleansing by won
P.-Prickly Ash, prop*
erties of P. P. Poko
Boot and Potassium.
8PRINOFIE :li>, Mo., highest Aug. llth, 1893. of
—I can sneak in the terms
your medicine from my • wn with personal
Knowledge. I was affected heart
diseaso, pleurisy and rheumatism for
35 years, was treated by tho very best
physicians ana spent hundreds of dol¬
lars, finding tried every relief. known romedy with¬
out I have only taken
one bottlo of your P. P. P., and can
fsfSSHssiS sufferers of tho above diseases.
MRS. M. M. YBARY.
Springfield, Green County, Mo.
Schofield’s Iron Works!
2>^«,rL-a.f aemrera etxicS. Jo1oTo®r® of
Steal Engines, Boilers, SAW ILLS, Cotton Presses
General Machinery and all kinds Castings.
-Sole Owner and Manufacturers ot
Schofield’s Famous COTTON PRESS!
-To Pack by Hand, Horse, Water or Steam
BBABS GOODS, PIPE FITTINGS,LUBRICATORS, BELTING, PACKING,SAWS,ETC
-General Agent for
tfffKCOCK INSPIRATORS AND GULLETTS MAGNOLIA COTTON GIN.
J. S. SCHOFIELD & SON,
MACON. GEORGIA.
CUT RATE PRICES
—,ON— -
h 6~E m ( 5
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL.
CHEAPEST SHOE HOOSE 01 EAETH.
SHOE BROKERS.
E. B. HARRIS, Manager.
420 & 422 3rd Street, Macon, Ga.
0. P. & B. E. Willingham,
MANUFACTURERS OF AND DEALERS IN
SASH, DOORS, BLINDS, MOULDINGS,
Mantels, Paints, Oil, Lime, Cement,
REEDED, TURNED AND SCROLL WORK,
----AND
px, TT I I Y J T I T"\ j T"^ L T—V Lf f ^ y YX LJ A A T-\ L/ T\ j T \/\/ ▼ r A i rw L' -r"i
D U i Lj U I JLj JA O 1 U | V V l £j« U
AjUxIA
'
MA CON, GA.
Write for Prices before , buy. Estimates
us you # cheerfully given
v v
Established 1865. 1 J'S
f One Price 11 m
®
Clothiers, |)5||
MM Hi r.
iifif iii i A; m
Ml m TAILORS,
l»l HATTERS, III
Ifbl FURNISHERS *
m Eiseman Bros. ' 111 «
gM'fs> |£g |P
15 and 17 Whitehall Street, ATLANTA, GA. a ij®
is
gfl Cor, WASHINGTON, 7th akd E. St«. D. C. N. W- Factory. BALTIMORE, 213 W German MO St: If#! 1
ONLY flANL'FACTURERS OF CLOTHING IN THE SOUTH
! g* f.fLlf} g DEALING DIRECT WITH CONSUMER. if
S I
‘
,
PIMPLES, BLOTCHES
AND OLD SORES
CATARRH, IViALftBIA,
KIDNEY TROUBL ES
ami DYSPEPSIA
> A
Arc entirely removed by P.P.P.
—PricWy Ash. Poke Root and Potas¬
sium, tho greatest blood purifier on
earth.
Aberdeen. O.. July Savannah, 21,1891.
Messrs Li ppm an Bros., bottle
Ga.: Dear Sins—I bought a of
it ▼our r. P P. at Hot. Springs,Arlt.,and good than three
bas douo mo more
months’ troatmaptat the Hot Springs.
Bend rbroo bottles C. O. D.
Aberdeen, County, EWTOS. 0.
Brown
C»pt. J. D. Joliuston.
Jb all whom it may concern: t here*
*■'’ i P. P. for eruptions or Th^Ek-Tn the.kiu. ®T
. -
a^jsrissMS’SEXiK
“e£SMb,r^. y D.gNsros.
aatauuaa, u#.
^Mmonyfrom the Mayor of Scquir^Tex.
Messrs. Seqvtn, Lippman Tex. , January 14,1693.
Bros.. Savannah
Ga.: GeJitlemen—1 bavo tried your p
P- P. for a disease of tho skin, usually
known -is skin cancer,of t hirty year."’
p purities nx ?i? 1I1 * ? the t a , blood n ^ /ourni and great removes relief: all ir¬ It.
ritatlon from the scat of the titsoaso
prevents I have taken any spreading fivoor bottles of the
sores. six
ana fool confident taut another course
will effect tt euro, lth's also relieved
mo troubles. from Indigestion Yours ly, and stomach
r
CAPS’. W. M. RUST,
Attorney at, Law,.
M on Blood Diseases Moiled Fie?..
ALT, DRUGGISTS BELL IT.
LIPPMAN BROS.
PROPRIETORS,
IA Pitman’s Blocfe,Sav»acaSs, Ga
o
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