About The Newnan herald. (Newnan, Ga.) 1865-1887 | View Entire Issue (June 2, 1885)
..A--:-': TV H The Newnan Hbrald. PUBLISHED ETEKT TUESDAY. A. B. CATES, Editor ami Publisher. mill or Hcncumoi: One copy one rear, in advance ... $1-50 If not paid in advance, the terms are 12.00 a year. A Club of six allowed an extra copy. Fifty-twp numbers complete tip volume. THE NEWNAN HERALD. WOOTTEJf k CATES, Proprietors. WISDOM, JUSTICE AND MODERATION. TEBfSi-tUO per per year in Advance. VOLUME XX. NEWNAN, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JUNE 2,18S5. NUMBER 33. The Newnan Herald. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAT. KATES or aptkbtmi One inch one year, $10; a column one year, $100; less time than three months, $1.00 per inch for first insertion, and 50 cents additional for each subsequent in sertion. Notices in local column, ten cents per line for each insertion. Liberal arrange ments will be made with those advertis ing by the quarter or year. All transient advertisements must be paid for when handed in. Announcing candidates, &c., $3.00 strictly in advance. Address all communications to A. n. CATES, Newnan, Ga. Our lives areallmms, written through Witbgood or ill, with false or true. HIS LITTLE LOYE. BY ALFRED CRAYON. A snowy January afternoon. Through the little windows of the warm waiting-room two travelers saw the snow blowing across the whitened fields, and heard the sweep of the wind among the leaf less branches, and against the win dow panes. A gentleman of about thirty stood by the window, one arm resting on a little shelf, and eyes bent on the girlish face beside him. He was not handsome, yet his was a face one would look at with as much or with more interest than if the leatures were as perfect as Apollo’s own. The eyes and mouth were full of rpower, the former especially, won derfully expressive, and, as he • spoke now, full of easy, quizzical re- gard. “Are you afraid of me, Miss Ma rion? I)o you think I shall prove a tyrannical or lenient guardian?” “I am not the least hit afraid of Hir!” the young lady called you, Marion answered, in a cold, busi ness like voice, looking him the in eye. “Not afraid ? How strange!” he said, the smile around his mouth deepening. “Do y.iu generally inspire those who meet you with awe, Mr. Vann ?” “I am a lawyer,” he replied, “therefore blessed with second sight, of course. Not only do we judge by the outward evidence of the thoughts in a client’s heart, hut the inner working of the vital organ is an open book to us. Your thoughts now ” lie paused. “Well?” she asked impatiently. “Are not flattering to me. You consider me an unmitigated bore, very cold, and professional—not good looking. You long for the schoil left behind in the South, where days like this are unheard of, and where the college students serenade you and dedicate flowery sonnets to your beauty.” The girl flushed and darted a quick, angry glance at him from th* dark eyes under the little tissue veil strapped across her nose. “You are pleased to be sarcastic,” slio said, with a little sneer and shrug; “but of what matter is it? If it amuses you, sir, it amuses me in finitely more. I am not afraid of your satire—neither do I like you!” Jerome Vann raised his brows in unfeigned surprise. She was so petite, so childish in appearance, despite her eighteen years; and the open animosity she expressed was so novel. It was all refreshing and ho watched her aftiusedly as she went to a distant corner and buried herself in a nov el, to the complete exclusion of him- sel f. All he could see beneath the book was a pair of extremely lovely red lips, and these he watched steadily, scarcely aware of it. Five minutes passed, ticked slowly off by the clock in the empty waiting room and a brown curl appeared above the rim of the book, then one cu rious and brightly angry eye which met his and disappeared like flash. Jerome laughed. He knew that by that outburst of mirth he totally lost all vantage ground with her, but he could not help it. Still smiling he walked slowly to her side. “Do not freeze me 1” he said pa thetically, holding out his hand; “we must be friends, you know.” ‘Not at all!” she said coldly. “I am absolutely sure that we shall never agree! Better begin as we .shall surely end!” “You dislike me?” “1 have said so!” she answered turning the leaf. “And why? Because I have been unfortunate enough to have unwit tingly offended you ?” “You have laughed at me! Ido not know what name they give that in the North, but in Virginia we should call that unmanner ly” “If I have been so, Miss Romero, I sincerely beg your pardon,” Je rome said, stiffly, and retired to the window to whistle the “Exile of Erin,” in most distracting discord until the train puffed in. Jerome sat by the library’ fire, a cigar between his lips, his hinds clasped idly, his eyes almost clos ed. He was listening to a story which interested him. A younger man was also sitting by the lire, a cane in his hand and his chin resting on the top of it. He was a very handsome young fellow, and the firelight, playing on his head, turned his hair to gold, and made the intense, earnest, blue eyes seem black. I “I have loved her from the begin ning,” he said, slowly. “Through all the past months I have loved Marion silently; now I will tell her of it, with your permission, and learn my fate. Better ultimate re jection than this suspense.” “Ned Buffington, you love my ward V Jerome asked, calmly, no evidence that his heart was beating like a boy’s could be seen in his face. “You love her truly, you say?” “I do! Upon my honor!” Ned re plied. “That, surely, is not strange. Could a man, seeing her constantly, asl have done, not lose his heart to her?” “You know, of course, that she was left a rortune?” Jerome asked again, in the same quiet voice. I have heard so. Perhaps, in deed, it i3 the only thing to he re- retted, for I love her, and have abundance for both,” Ned answered egretfully. Her guardian stood up, and his ice was very pale. “It is no longer to be regretted. Marion has nothing. In the recent failure she lost it all.” “All!” the young fellow echoed, and there was silence. Marion is very proud,” Jerome continued. “If she knew that she was not absolutely independent of my bounty, 1 believe she would not stay an hour longer beneath this roof. But, poor child, she need nev er know, at least, until after she has been married.” The deep, expressive voice ceased with a regretful ring, and then he oneluded, more cheerily: “Go, and I wish you success in your wooing!” Ned wrung his hand and left the room, and in a very few moments Jerome followed. For a while the fire glowed on noisily in the grate, the wind howl ’d, and the quiet remained unbrok en; then the heavy velvet curtains were dr wn back, and Marion step ped out from behind. Her face was pallid as a ghost’s, her dark eyes were burning with fierce pride, and very angry; her lips were trembling with excite ment and suppressed resentment. A prettier picture of enraged pride could not be found. ‘Great heaven!” she cried, with a passionate stamp. “What deceit! How often have I hurled the fact in his face that I was glad—infinitely lad I owed him nothing. He calmly heard me, knowing that it was a beggar’s delusion he was lis tening to!” She paused, and her flashing eyes turned on the chair he had lately occupied. “How he de tests me, too,” she said with empha sis. “I have never tried to win his favor—we have never been friendly, ind to think that for weeks past, or perhaps months, I have eaten his bread and spent his money, think- ng it entirely my own. But all is over—I shall not stay. In the wide world there is surely room for me to earn my Bread!” She drew back the curtain and looked out. The stars were shining frostily, but the'wild March wind was making havoc of every stray leaf and fragment in its path. The streets were deserted. It was i unusually bitter night of that blusterous month, a night when hu manity keeps its head, snail like, indoors, when the crackle of bright fire is the sweetest sound on earth! Marion, with a little shiver turns away. “I must go!” she said, “not anoth er night will I stay here a begger on his bounty. Old Mrs. Chaplin, though she is poor, will keep me for my mothei’s sake until I get some thing to do and pay her back.” She paused a moment by Jerome’s arm chair, and leaned her arm on the back of it. “I wish—I wish he did not dislike me so,” she whispered, and the tears tempered the luster of her eyes. “It was my abominable temper at first, and now, he is tired of me, would gladly marry me to the first coxcomb that asks.” This mood only lasted a second, and all their old fierceness return ed. “But what am I saying?” she said, dashing away the tears and trying to control her quivering lips. “Do I not hate this man ? This su perior being who treats me like willful child. Am I not glad by ac cident I learned the truth of my po sition? Certainly! Am I not de lighted at the possibility of feeling independent, away from his benev olent smile? I am, and the time will come when Jerome Vann will wonder that he ever laughed at me and my vagaries.” All the warm Southern nature aroused, she went to the desk and began to write a note to this detest ed guardian. “Sir,” it dashed off, “ten minutes since I learned my position in your house, and it is such an undesira ble one that I renounce it this night You, who have disapproved of me so strongly, will no doubt be pleased to learn that I have broken from yonr reins and fled. Good-night, and good-by to yon, sir. Marion. “P. 8. I distinctly and emphat ically refuse to marry Mr. Buffing ton.” An hour later she was on the street, the wind blowing her cloak and twisting her veil till it looked like a signal of distress. There was nothing of the heroine about her as she hurried along, keeping on the flarkest side of the street, her head lowered and tears dropping thick and fast on her cloak. Poor Marion! The first touch of the world, in which she stood alone, was cold and blustery. The weeks passed by on leaden feet- Advertisements and detec tives were both of no avail, and Je rome Vann’s face giew strangely old and sad, for Marion’s where abouts still remained a mystery. He loved her far more than he •ver realized. He longed to see that spirited, magnetic face again md to hear the pert, merry voice which had made such drollery of iis well meant advice. Day after day passed, each one an exact repetition of the preceding one, and all very weary, sickening blanks to the rich lawyer in his stately home. It was June. Sunny, soft weath er reigned in the city. Roses bloom ed everywhere, in florists’ windows, in market carts, in wealthy gar dens—everywhere the fragrant bunches of different hued flowers waved in the breeze. Jerome was standing at his libra ry window, looking out at the throng of promenaders and open carriages dashing along. His eyes were no longer filled with suspense, they were far worse—calm and hopeless. He had left nothing untried to liscover her whereabouts, and it bad all been worse than useless. He had been beating his heart out with pain, in alternate hope and failure, in passionate longing, and now all was over. Without any re newed vigor he was still deep in professional duties, trying, but ainly, to take up the thread of existence as though Marion had never been known and dearly lov ed. He took up his hat and cane and went out His steps led him to Broadway. The thoroughfare was rowded and he walked slowly ilong, his moody face, with its quiet ly bitter expression, in marked con trast to those around him. Many saw and envied the rich and successful lawyer. Could they but have read that rich man’s heart! And so, in the supreme blindness of our egregious vanity, do we judge one another. He paused to look at a picture which attracted a number of people, it was a quaint design in water colors in the shape of a small screen. The picture showed the sea on a stormy day, with the floating spars md masts of a wrecked ship ap pearing above the angry'waves in he distance. All the coloring of he picture is centered in two fig- ires on the shore. One, the dead body of a drowned sailor, curls lying on his forehead, iis eyes closed, and his bluejacket torn, showing the powerful chest in which the heart would never beat igain. The other, a young girl with a face of extreme loveliness, ;hough convulsed with anguish. Her dress denoted that she was a fisher lass, and as she bent over the body of her lover, one hand over his heart, the other holding on the little black hood she wore, the expression of her eyes was strangely real and touching. The subject was an old one, yet this little water-color sketch held a quaint, original power of its own. Jerome looked at it, puzzled and fascinated. There was a strange resemblance in the man to some one he had known; nay, more, With wondering eyes he realized that it was a perfect likeness of himself. He went into the store and bought it, at the same time obtaining the artist’s address, and followed the direction with feverish haste. The house was a small one, in a street which the word “genteel” de scribes. On inquiring at the door for the artist who resides there he was told to knock at the door at the end of the passage. He did so, but, receiving no an- iwer, opened the door and fonnd himself in a shabby-clean, unoccu pied room. Another room adjoined it. Jerome advanced hesitatingly, and stood on the threshold looking in, as though his hungry eyes would never be tired gazing at the picture he saw there. Marion, ia a plain, black dress was sitting at an easel, the brush lying idle in her lap, and her eyes turned languidly toward the open window, through which the sun beams were straying. Her fieure looked very slight, and out of the pale face her eyes shone with unhealthy luster. She turned her head and saw him standing in the doorway. Without a start or sound, or any change of feature, except the tightening of her lips, she rose to her feet. Jerome came forward and took the feverish, unresisting hand in his. What would he say? In what words express the suffering of the past weary months ? She was be fore him now, and the wild, impas sioned torrent he had imagined bursting from his lips at this happy moment had completely deserted him. When bespoke at last, the words were commonplace enough but they covered the entire ground. “I never thought to see you again, Marion; but I have found you!” And you really remembered me so long?” she asked, with a flash of something like the old defiance. The expression which came into his eyes answered her, and he took the picture from its wrappings. “This led me to you,” he said, with impressive tenderness, “and it also told me that you had remembered me so long.” Marion flushed and turned away; but she could not deny it. The proof was there. Jerome drew her to his faithful heart, which had suffered many a bitter throb for his little love, and kissed her with solemn, heartfelt earnestness. Thus peace was declared between them forever. A week later they were married in Mrs. Chapin’s little front room, and after a Canadian tour, Marion settled in the old home in a new character. An Important Moral Invention. A Charleston moralist has madea most important discovery, which will revolutionize some of the evils of society. For many years the church has arrayed itself against dancing as a dangerous demoraliz ing pastime. The Charleston moral ist has made the discovery that the immorality of dancing springs from the fact that men have to catch hold of women when they dance and he logically arrives at the con clusion that if they had something to catch hold of that was not wo man the danger would all be ob viated, and dancing might be con ducted even at vestry meetings and revivals without the slightest tear of propriety. Acting upon this suggestion he has invented a knob, or handle, which is affixed to the female dan cer as it is affixed to the door. She can wear it on a belt and her part ner can seize it without fear of com ing in contact with her person. Knobs can be made of brass, nick el, porcelain or silver, and if kept well polished will add a pleasant effect to the person. The introduction of these useful appendages into the moral circles of Charleston society is said to have given a great impetus to social in tercourse. A young lady can now offer her knob to a young gentle man with no fear of impropriety, and a late improvement by which an electric bell is attached enables any one in society who wishes to chat with her to announce himself properly. The statement, made undoubted ly by interested parties who have failed to get patents on knobs, that wherever they have been introduc ed dancing as a pastime has de clined, is not to be believed. One cannot give up his faith in the pro prieties as easily as that The Small Fry. “Which would you rather have, a little brother or a little sister?” ask ed Mrs. Simpleton of her little boy Tommy. “Oh, ma, don’t let us have either o( them—children are such a nuisance about a house.” “Pa, what is this Bright’s disease they talk about—a kind of dyspep sia ?” “No, my son.” “But here’s a bookadvertised— Bright’s Digest. Ain’t that on the same subject?” At a Sunday-school in New York a teacher asked a new scholar, a lit tle girl, what her name was. She replied: “Helen French.” An ur chin in an adjoining seat sang out: “What is it in English ?” Young hopeful (who has been reprimanded for not washing his face)—“Boo-h-oo! I wish I was a nigger boy!” Mamma—“A negro boy! What for, Georgey ?” Young hopeful—“Why, I—I— shouldn’t have to w-wash then, ’cause the d-d-dirt wouldn’t show!” “Te, he, he!” he laughed. “Mamma, oo said fies was made des for fun eserday, didn’ oo!” “Yes, darliug. But what are you laughing at?’ “I is lafln’ at a fie. Te, he, he!” “Why, darling, what do you see aboflt a fly that is so funny ?” “Te, he, he! E fy tickie my nose an’I nose he is funny. Te, he, he!” Some of Archbishop Whatley’s Witti- cisms. GENERAL NEWS. “What is the difference,” he asked of a young clergyman he wasjexam- iuing, “between a form and a cere mony? The meaning seems nearly the same; yet there is a very nice istinction.” Various answers were given. “Well,” said Whately, “it lies in this: you sit upon a form (long bench), but you stand upon cere mony.” In Whately’s time, the great cir culating library of Dublin was Mor row’s, and the most popular preach er was the Rev. Mr. Day. “How inconsistent,” said the arch bishop, “is the piety of certain ladies here. They go to Day for a sermon, and to Morrow for a novel.” “What is the laziest letter in the alphabet?” he asked. “The letther G!” (lethargy). Riddles. if a clear consciance is planted, what will come up ? Heart’s ease. What is that, which, if you name, you break it ? Silence. Why is a madman like two men ? He is a man beside himself. Why is love like a canal-boat ? It is an internal transport. Why is life the riddle of riddles ? We must all give it up. What colors are the winds and the storm? The storm rose, and the winds blue (blew). If you thiow a mail out of a win dow, what does he first fall against? His inclination. A man whose best works are al ways trampled under foot.—A car pet manufacturer. Ex-Senator Thurman says, with out any reservation, that he will noi e the Democratic candidate for Jovernor of Ohio, even if the par ty should nominate him by accla mation. Victor Hugo’s declination of the clergyman in the last hours will re call to the readers of “Les Misera- bles” that he makes Jean Valjean decline similar assistance when he is dying. Mr: John H. Hilton, a colored school-teacher ot Lake St Clair,La., is now doing missionary work among his colored brethren in the North by aspiring them that the'crtlftr"e3 people of the South are highly pleased with the Democratic Administration and that the most of them ha\’3 retired from the late Republican party in that region. A lady visiting Kansas writes of the grasshopper in a different strain from that usually employed: “If you are quite sure that they are not intending to light,’ a flight of grasshoppers is a beautiful thing to see. All day they floated over us; millions upon millions of airy little creatures, with their white gauzy wings spread to the light, mounting steadily toward the sun, as it seem ed. It was like a snow storm in sunshine, if you can picture such a a thing, with the flakes rising in stead of falling. The New York World is the greatest success of the day. In the two years that Mr Pulitzer has controlled it it has built up its circulation from 15,000 to 154,000; in two months time it has raised the (Opular subscription for the Bar tholdi Pedestal Fund amounting to tver $52,000aad it is going to make $100,000 before it rests, md in two weeks secured the con viction of a police sergeant for com- nittinga heinous crime, and saw him sentenced to 17 years and six months at hard labor in Sing Sing, it is the advocate of the right and the friend of the oppressed. President Cleveland i3 making additional raids on the old fashions of the White House life. He has now discharged Prince Arthur’s famous chef, M. Fontin, whose sau ces and entremets have so long been the delight of the White House bon vivants. He has also lispensed with theking of stewards, Howard Williams, whose catering is said to be above compare President Cleveland finds that he can live and grow strong on good beef and mutton, plain soups and weil-baked bread and pies, and he discovers that Bridget can cook all these to his taste better than a French chef. Perhaps, too, he sees that the old White House crowd has retired with digestion and im paired health, and does not think that dispepsia biliousness and oth er evils of over-fed flesh is heir to the proper discharge of a Presi dent’s duties. &rnall Bros <fc Co. Is the place to find the prettiest and largest line of 9RY GOODS, FANCY600DS, NOTIONS, HOSIERY, Clothing, Hats and Shoes* ALSO A COMPLETE STOCK OF Afghan Nomenclature. “Ab” means water, as in Punjab (that is, “the five waters,” referring to the five great rivers that traverse the northwestern province of Hin- dostan), or as in Hurrirab (the wa ter of the “Harris”), or as in Snrkh- ab (the “red water”), and so on. Koh” is a mountain, as in Safey- dkoh (the “white mountain”), Koh- i-Baba (the mountains of Babah or Baber), or as in Hindoo Koosh (the Hindoostanee mountain.) “Abad” as a terminal (the “City of Allah”), Ahmedabad (the City of Ahmed”), and so forth. “Safeyd” is white, “siah” black, “surkh” red, “nil” blue, etc. Then there are the numerals such as “panj” or “punj” (five), “char” or “chahar” four, etc., all of which are descriptive of certain characteris tics of the places to the names of which they are attached. “Panj- deh” is an example, for as “deh” means a village, and “panj” five, as already explained, the name of the place signifies a collection of five Turkoman villages. Wherever “total” occurs it signifies simply pass over a mountain spur. For in stance, the first victory Gen. Rob erts won in Afghanistan was at the Paiwar Kotul. the pass of the Pai- war, 6,000 feet high. On a recent trial a cedar log 20 feet long was taken to a California match factory, and in exactly thir ty minutes was sawed, split, <rined, dipped in snlphnr, labeled, and the matches boxed ready for ship ment. m Worst Lands Than This. Mrs. Farmer John—Oh, I am so sick and tired of this hundrum ex istence. I wish I had been born in Italy instead of in this practical workaday country. Traveled Guest—And why in Ita ly, Mrs. John ? Oh, I don’t know, only Italy is the home of art you know. I sup pose even the country women there all have opportunities to gratify their artistic instincts. They sing or paint or draw, don’t they f “I have seen a good many of them drawing.” “How nice! What do they draw principally ?” “Plows.” Wouldn’t Do. “So you don’t believe in Jasper’s religion ?” said the secretary of state, addressing an old negro. “Nor, sah, I doant.” “Why?” “Case he failed ter pervide fur his owirhgusebol’, sah.” “How did he fail ?” “Wall, sah, he tuck er sheep when er hog wuz jes’ ez handy. Anybody oughter know dat a hog will go much further ’mong chillun den er sheep. Lemme tell yer! When er man steals an’ doan steal de best, jes’ put him down ez er hippercit an’ er bad pusson. Dat sorter man won’t do.” Cyclones have been less frequent this year than last. As the season for their appearance has about pass ed, those living in the dangerous belt breathe freer. Family Groceries, THEY ALSO SUPPLY FARMERS AND GINNERS WITH BAGGING AND TIES. [laving watched for ou; - chance and been very careful in the pur chase of our stock, we have BOUGHT CHEAPER THAN EVER BEFORE, thus being enabled to offer Bargains in all Kinds of Goods. A visit to onr store, an examination of our goods and an inquiry of our prices is all that is necessary to convince you that ours is THE GREAT BARGAIN STORE ! ARNALL BRO’S & CO., Newnan, Ga. W. B. ORR <fe CO \re receiving daily additions to their stock ot GENERAL MER- JIIANDISE, which is varied and too numerous to itemize. Full line of Ladies, Gents and Children’s Speak' Distinctly. The poet Longfellow is credited with the following story: A Pa risian once remarked to him that there was one American word that he never could understand or find in any dictionary. “What is it?” inquired the poet. “That eldo,” was the reply. “I never heard of the word,” said Longfellow. Presently a servant came in to replenish the fire. After patting on a little fuel Longfellow remarked, That will do.” “Ha!” exclaimed the Frenchman, that Ls the very word that has trout- led me.” A Great Man. The late Duke of Wellington used to say: “I’m ail right. If they abolish the House of Lords, I shall go over to Belgium. I’m Prince of Waterloo there. When the Great Powers swallow up Belgium, I can still live in Spain, where I am Duke Ciudad Rodrigo. And if Spain col lapses I shall retire to Portugul. where I shall end my days as Mar quis ofTorres Vedras and Count of Vimiero.” Literal Sambo. “I say, Sambo, where did you git de shirt-studs!” “In de shop, to be sure. “Yah, you just told me you had’nt no money.” “Dat’s right.” “How did you git dem, den!” “Well, saw on a card in de win <low, “Collar studs,” so I collared deaf. On a Popular Avenue. Something extra in hand made, and every pair guaranteed. DRESS GOODS, Lawns, Organdies, Nuns Veiling, Cashmere, Berlin Cord, Checks, Nainsook, Swiss and Mull Muslin, a complete assortment of Cotton- ides, Checks, Bleached and Brown Shirting and Sheeting. READY HADE CLOTHING AND HATS, naking a specialty of them, and they must go. We invite one and ill to come to see us. Thanking you for past patronage we solicit a ;ontinuance of the same. W. B. ORB & CO. THOMPSON, BROS. Bedroom, Parlor and Dining Room Fnrnitore. Big Stock and Low Prices. PARLOR AND CHURCH ORGANS. WOOD and METALLIC BURIAL CASES {^Orders attended to at any hour day or night.^0 jopl6- ly THOMPSON BROS., Newnan, Ga. PRECAUTION! DR. BIGGrERS’ Huckelberry CORDIAL! TIE SIMT Mill lEilOY -FO Dysentery and Cramp Colic. D hold. It is ono of the m >s'. pleasant and eflicacions remedies there is for sum mer complaints. How iiee'-m-iry it is, at a season of the year when violent and tuddeii attacks of th - bowels are so frequent, you should have some speedy relief it hand. It will s iv j in-i:li pain and an <iety, as well as largo doctor bills. Tho .vearied mother, ! -ior deep night after night in nursing the little one suffering inch a drainage up-a ii system from the effects of teething, should use this in- aluable medicine. :- .r sale by all druggists at 50 cents a bottle. USTSend 2c stamp o Walter A. Tayi.oii, Atlanta, Ga., for Riddle Bcok. may5-iy eow GRIFFIN BfcNAMARA & ROBERTS, G. McN'AMARA. N. ROBERT?. -DEALEKS IX- Wofk, Mrs. Blake (to Mrs. Flint)—“And so you have moved since I saw you last. And how do yon like your new location ?” Mrs. Flint—“Oh, very much better than the old one. We are on an avenue that leans directly to the cemetery and almost all tnefnner-l ■onsiautly on baud or made loonier. Tablets, Monuments, Ac. Special designs and . J ’ , ’, . . I estimates furnished on application for. Marbleor Granite work or any description, a ls pass oar door, which makes it I v Lock box 242, Gbiffik ga. extremely pleasant^ | F. BREWSTER. Agent, Newnan, Ga. mm IN FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC MARBLES AND GRANITES, AND IRON RAILINGS
