About The Newnan herald. (Newnan, Ga.) 1865-1887 | View Entire Issue (June 9, 1885)
The Newsas Herald. PUBLISHED EYEKV TUESDAY. A. B. CATES, Editor and PablUher. TEEEK or srBSCBI JTIO*: One copy one year, in advance 11.30 If not paid in advance, the terms are $2.00 a year. A Club of «lx allowed an extra copy. Fifty-two numbers complete the volume. THE NEWNAN HERALD. WOOTTES k CATES, Proprietor*. WISDOM, JUSTICE AND MODERATION. TEKWS:--§1..»0 per per year in Advance. The Newnan Herald; PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. VOLUME XX. XEWXAX, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JUNE «, 1885. NUMBER 34. BATES OF ABTERTISl One inch one vear, $10: a column one vear, $100; leas 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 1 x* made with those advertis ing bv the quarter or year. All transient advertisements mnst be paid for when handed in. Announcing candidates, Ac., $3.00 strictly in advance. Address all communications to A. R.OATES, Newnan, Ga. Our lives are albums, written through Withgood or ill, with false or true. JENNIE’S MISSION. BY ELLA WHEELER. “O, this dull round of small duties, how tired I atn of them all, how I wish some grand mission in life would come to me!” Jennie Orson, the pretty little school-mistress, leaned her chin ujton her hand as she mused in the above manner, and gazed out over the gray spring fields, whose dreary ploughed furrows were thrusting their ragged faces up through the rapidly disappearing snow-drifts. “Why, how the snow has gone to day,” she added mentally as the changed appearance of the fields struck her eye. It was the last day of March, and all winter long the show had been heaped in miniature mountain ranges by the roadsides, and on the fields and meadows. During the last week, warm weath er had set in, making rapid inroads upon snow and ice. The children came running under the window where Jennie stood, playing at “Round the House!" Then they flocked off together to ward the brook that rippled by the school house, a few rods distant. Her mind was not upon her duties that day. Her plodding round in a country school room seemed very dull and mean to her. She sighed for some great and lofty mission. “If I could do some one great act, heroic and noble,” she said to her self, “I would be willing to die then. What is life worth if we must plod on forever like this? ! am no more than an ant, or a spider, or a squir rel, with the life I live! How gladly would 1 give up the monotony of years of this routine for one hour of sacrifice, heroism and then welcome death.” How she hated her homely life as sho looked back over its nineteen uneventful years. She had always lived in this dull country place, ever since she was a wee child and her parents had emigrated to the West S’le had received her education in t his same little school house, attend ed divine service there also—as the place boasted no church edifice— and her only knowledge of the world beyond was obtained by a yearly visit to the city, fifty miles distant, where the family supplies were purchased, and from a few hooks and newspapers. Now she was very tired of her dull past, her duller present, her doubtlessly dull future. Even the thought of her fond, true lover, Jack Kellog, who was building the house where she was to reign mistress, annoyed her to-d.iy. IIow poor aud monotonous life stretched before her. How much better to perform some one grand act and die, than to live on to old age in this dreamy fashion. It was a very romantic girl who stood there in the little school room dreaming her discontented dreams, you sec. Suddenly she saw by the noon mark that it was time to call in her scholars. She had no bell—for this was in the early days of Wisconsin history, before the railroads had spread their great iron spider webs all over the State, and Jennie’s school was conducted on a very primitive plan. She took the great ruler, with which she inflicted pun ishment on the palms of unruly boys, and rapped loudly on the win dow. Then she sat down and wait ed for the pupils to come trooping in—not with regulation and order which governs school-rooms in these days, but helter skelter, hurry skurry, laughing, pushing each oth er aud playing "tag” to their very benches. “O, teacher, the creek is getting awful high,” said Tommy Smith, as he plunged i’>to his seat. And Jen nie did not correct him for the im proper use of “awful,” which proved to be more appropriate in this ca-e than teacher or pupil supposed. “Isuppose the snows are all melt ing and running into it,” she an swered, absently, as she took her place" at the desk, and by another tap of the ruler indicated that the afternoon session of school was now in order. Then she ran her eyes over the room to see that no pupils were missing. •‘Where is Tod Brown ?” she ask ed, “I do not see him here.” Tod was the smallest ehild in the school; a little boy scarcely five years old, who was placed in her charge, not so much to learn hi primer, as to keep him out of his mother’s way. She was burdened with two smaller than he besides a babe in the cradle. “I left Tod down by the creek,” answered Tommy Smith, “playin’ throw pebbles into the water. I told him school was called. “You should have brought him along, Tod is only a child,” Jennie said, reprovingly. “But go and bring him now, and hurry, lor your lesson In arithmetic comes on di rectly." Tommy came back in a brief space of time, white and frighten ed. “Tod is standin’ on a stone and cryin’, and the water’s all round him.” he said. “I couldn’t get near him at all. The whole school rose en masse, and Jennie at the head of the small army led on to the rescue of Tod. Yes, there he stood on a store which a little time before had been on the shore, but now alas! was in the midst of the rapidly swelling stream, beyond the reach of any one in that little group. “Mamma! mamma!” he calltofSn piteous tones, “come and take Tod. Tod is ’fraid. Come, mamma, come!” Jennie looked over her litt'e flock of pupils who crowded about her; not one of them was large enough to wade out and rescue Tod. The inly boy in her school who might •safely have attempted this had re named at home that day to assist his father. The water was rising higher ev ery moment. What wa . to be done must be done quickly, or the angry waves would seize poor little Tod and sweep him away down the swelling stream. “John,” cried Jennie, speaking to the largest boy in the flock, “you stand here on the bank, while I vade out to Tod. I shall want you to take him from my arms as soon as I have him safe. Some of the larger girls must hold fast to your coat, so that you do not fall into the stream.” Then Jennie drew her skirts close ibout her slight figure and plunged Bravely into the cold waters, sink ing almost to her waist at the first step. Slowly, slowly, she made her way toward the crying child, the waves rushing up higher over his feet ev ery moment. The little flock on the shore hud dled together like frightened lambs, watching their teacher with wide, listended eyes and sobbing out heir fear and terror, as she slowly (breed her way against the waves. Another effort, another plunge ind she had him in her arms. Then die tried to make her way back lo shore, but the waters were growing more furious every moment, as if angered at the loss of their pray. They almost swept her from her feet—they dashed above her shoul- ler, and her little burden screamed and struggled with terror, making her task ten-fold more difficult. “Just another step, teacher, and [’ll catch hold of him,” cried John from the shore, reaching out almost his whole length over the waters, while two sobbing girls held fast to the skirts of his coat. It was an exciting scene, a wild momentof suspense. Jennie’s face was white as chiseled marble; her long black hair had fallen from its fastenings aud floated back over he billows like a dark mantle; her •yes were large with fear, her nouth drawn with pain, and her itrength were well nigh exhaust ed. With one last mighty effort she laid her burden in John’s outstretch 'd arms. Tod was saved! A wild shout of joy and triumph rose trom the excited band on shore, ind they flocked about the pros trate child. Just then a great wave swept down upon Jennie, lifted her from her feet, just as she was about to grasp the shore, and bore her rapid ly down the stream like a light piece of drift-wood. As she was whirled away the whole events of her past life arose before her; that life, which only an hour before seemed so poor, and mean and dull to her. Ah, now how precious and bright—and beau tiful it became! She remembered her rash wish, that she might be given some one heroic act to per form—and then die. That act had been granted her almost instantly, and she had performed it heroical ly. But now, must she carry out the remainder of her thought, and dis! Oh, death was so dark—so cold; the unknown seemed so terrible; she was so young, and life was so sweet! She thought of Jack, her lover, and the half completed house. Life with him there, that an hour before had seemed a dreary, monotonous waste, shone upon her like the de parting shores of some lost paradise. Oh, to see his dear eyes smiling fondly upou her, once more to hear his voice; life, youth, love, how pre- cious they all were. Then all grew blank. “Jack, Jack, I am so cold. O, God! save me— pity—forgive,” she cried, aud then sank away into unconsciousness. Two miles below the school house they found her tossed on shore with a mass ot drift wood. Quite dead they pronounced her at first, and the old village doctor confirmed the assertion. But Jack Kellog would not listen to any of them. “She i9 not dead,” be cried. “How dure you tell me I such a thing. She is alive, and will 1 look up and smile in my face before ; the day passes.” They shook their heads and j thought the poor boy had gone mad ! as he set to work over her. But I they all lent a helping hand, and ev- ! ery restorative known to them was applied to the pallid figure of the young girl. It was hours before they saw any signs of returning life. Then she drew a deep, quivering sigh, open ed her eyes and smiled, even as Jack had said she would, into his loving face bent anxiously above her. v ‘ Is this heaven?” she asked in a whisper. “I thought I died!” “You went out clear to the vpry threshold of death,’* Jack answered as he clasped her in his arras, “but love was strong enough to bring you back.” CORDELIA’S' STORY. Flora Bushnell was an only child vho had been petted and indulged in every way until the refusal of a request would be felt like a blow. It had come at last, and she was in a rebellious mood one morning when Cordelia came in with flowers to fill (he vases. Mrs. Phelps—or Cordelia, as she was called—was a remarkable character. She had come to the Bushnell home well recommended as a housekeeper, and proved a most efficient person, although sub ject to strange fits of melancholy and of humor. She remained an unusually long time in the parlor to-day, all the .vhile earnestly regarding her ,’oung mistress. Flora at last be- •aine impatient of her delay and tharply inquired if she were not through, when she clasped her hands and answered earnestly; “No, my dear young lady, I’m not (hrough; for I make so bold as to want to speak to you about what’s on your mind this morning.” Flora regarded her scornfully, without deigning a reply. “I know you’rs thinking about an elopement, miss, for I heard what Mr. Robert Preston said when he parted with you on the veranda last night.” “So you play eavesdropper and •py upon tny movements, do you?” iaid Flora sternly. “No, Miss Flora, but 1 was looking in the lawn for your mamma’s landkcrchief, last evening, and I supposed you knew I was there un til I heard what was said, and then 1 knew I was unseen.” “I presume you did your duty and informed my parents,” sneered Flora. “Indeed, miss, I did not; but I would like to talk with you about it. I know you have set your heart on having Robert Preston for your husband, and that your papa and mamma will not consent to the marriage. Will you let me tell you i story, miss?” Flora was afraid to offend Corde- ia, now that she was acquainted vith her secret plans, so she said: You may go on.” “I know what it is to run away nd get married, tor I did it. I was oi only child, like yourself, and had a good home, with everything com- brtable, for my father was a farmer ind owned lhe finest farm incur neighborhood. “I was perfectly contented with ny lot until John Phelps came one winter to teach our district school. I was called pretty and rich, and so it wasn’t long before the teacher >egan to flatter, court, and make love to me. Of course I lost my heart, and, deeming him perfection, ivould have followed him to the end >f the world. When spring came ind he was going away he asked lather if he might have me for his wife. My father was a proud, cold man, and was often harsh and se vere toward those he didn’t like, and he had never liked John Phelps. Then he was ambitious for me, because he thought me hand some and smart. So, when the teacher asked him it he might mar ry me, he said ‘No’ with character istic sternness, and forbade him the house. I was indignant and resent ful, and would not listen to reason or be comforted. I sulked around the house, making myself and every one el«e miserable. A few days af ter I had parted with my lover I went, one evening at sunset, into the old school-house to indulge my sorrows and dream of him. I took my old seat, and, dropping my head on the desk in front of me, I sobbed aloud. Oh, the joy and the sorrow that had come into my life with the winter just gone! My weeping died away in faint echoes as a hand touched my shoulder, and I looked up to find my lover at my elbow, instead of miles away, as I suppos ed. He had stayed at the village awaiting an opportunity of speak ing to me. Oh, how happy I was at seeing him again! and he, taking advantage of the sentimental mood in which he found me, pnrsnaded me to elope with him that evening. We drove to the village, five miles away, und were married by a jus tice. The train Qwt night bo*e ns away to the city, 100 miles distant, where we arrived just as a chiil, gray dawn was ushering in a rainy April day. The sentimental ro mance of the night had fled and a dreary sense of homesick longing filled my heart, which even the presence of my new husband could not dispel. He took me to his home, a dingy, comfortless house on the outskirts of the town, where I learned for the first time that he had a mother and sister depending on him for support. They were re spectful toward me, and had no welcome for the intruder until he whispered to them that my father was wealthy and that they would be provided for. I was so unfortu nate as to hear what he said, and no words can express my wretch edness and despair. Bitterly did I repent my folly as I threw myself on the bed in my room and sobbed out my misery like a little child. When my father discovered my flight, and with whom I had gone, he fell in a fit of apoplexy, from which he never recovered, and I never saw him again. His executor robbed my mother of all she had, obliging her to seek a home with her brother in the far west, all the fruits of my folly and disobedience. My husband was a weak man, indo lent and aimless, possessing none of the manly attributes of one who ap preciates the great responsibilities of life. *He was greatly disappoint ed when my mother lost all her property, and was not always kind to me. “My husband’s health had been failing for some time, and when we had been married ten years he died, leaving me with two children to support, boys of seven and nine years. I tried, oh so hard, to live with and work for them, but I be came ill. As I grew better I was persuaded by the friends who took care of roe during my illness to put- my children in an orphan asylum. Oh, my dear girl, profit by my ex perience and listen to your parents; be guided by them now, that your future be not filled with remorse despair, and grief.” Flora, who had for some time been quietly weeping, took the hand of the poor woman and said: “I thank you, Cordelia, for telling me the story of your life, and I promise you I will not marry any one without the consent of my pa rents. And Flora kept her word. She is now a cherished wife and happy mother, but her husband’s name is not Robert Preston. A Bad Break. Sara Peterby, a merchant from the interior, while attending the Mardi Gras festivities at Galveston united business with pleasure by purchasing a bill of goods from a prominent firm. He was very po litely received, and one of the pro prietors showed him over the im mense store. On reaching the fourth floor the customer perceived a speaking tube on the wall the first thing of the kind he had ever seen. What is that he asked. “Oh, that is a speaking tube, it is a great convenience. We can con verse with clerks on the first floor without the trouble of going down stairs. Can they hear what you say through that, asked the visitor. Certainly, and they can reply at the 9ame time. You don’t say so, exclaimed the visitor. May I speak through it. Certainly, was the reply. The visitor put his mouth to the speaking tube and asked: Are Sam Peterby's goods packed up yet The people in the office must have supposed it was somebody else speaking, for a moment later the distinct reply came back. No. We have not packed them yet We are waiting for a telegram from his town. We believe he is a slippery fellow. Tableau. Xo Pimple On It. “What letter is that, Willie?” “Why, it’s k, ain’t it?" “Yes that’s right; and now what’s this?” “Why its i, ain’t it?” “No, that’s 1. “Sure enough, it haint got no pimple on top of it, has it grandfa ther?” Sailing a Sunbeam. I once heard of a bright-eyed, merry little boy, who lived in an old house in a dark, narrow street. One day, after many months of darkness, the sun shone into his room—not a fall, radiant flood of sunshine such as comes into our windows day by day, but a little narrow beam of light, quivering and" dancing on the bare wall. The child was filled with delight, and putting his little hand on the sunbeam, he cried, “Run quick, mamma; bring a hammer and a nail. I’ll hold it while you nail it, so we can keep it always.” Economy is Wealth. A farmer and his wife went into the dentist’s. “How much do you charge for fillin’ teeth V asked the farmer. “From two to five dollars.” “An’ how much for pullin’?” “Fifty cents.” “Mariar,” he said, turning to his wife, “you’d better git it pulled.” Irish Wit. An Irishman, who was sleeping all night with a negro, had his face blackened by a practical joker. Starting off in a hurry iu the morn ing he caught sight of himself in a mirror. Puzzled, he stopped and gazed, and finally exclaimed, “They have woke the wrong man!” Discussing the »w Minister. Mrs Rosin Swavey (of the upper crust) “Yas, Deacon Pegrum was' a talkin’ wid him, and sez he puf- ectly ’quainted wid de dead lan- gwige.” Mrs. Pollycarp (also of the u. c.); “Seems ter me dats spediate 'cuz if a preachah’s famillyah wid de dead langwige he kin convus wid co’psus an’ d’pa’ted sperets, an’ know mo’ what he am talkin’ ’bout in de pul pit” A Place to Sit. A countryman and his bride ap plied at the box office for some tickets. “Orchestra chairs, parquette or family circle?” asked the ticket seller. “Which’ll it be, Mariar ?” said the groom. “Well,” she replied with a blush, “bein’as how we are married now, p’rhaps it would be properer to sit in the family circle. A Yonng Philosopher. Little Harry, aged four, who had been presented with a toy monkey, very much astonished his young aunt the other evening by ending his prayers with “a-monkey” in stead of“a-men.” His aunt was greatly shocked, and exclaimed: “Why Harry! what made you say that?” The young philosopher answered: “I say ‘a-inonkey’ because I like monkeys best; you say ‘a-men’ be- you like men best.” Dat ’Scription. “You are doing nicely,” said the doctor encouragingly to an old dar key patient; “I will call again to morrow, and leave you this pre scription now to save you from pain in the interim.” Then he went out. “Da’s er ’scription dat de doctah lef’,” said the patient feebly to his wite, “an I wan’s yo’ ter go to de drug sto’ an git it filled. Tell de drug sto’man its for my interim,an, be sho an’ ax him ef I’s ter take it eternally, or jess rub it on the out side, an’ ef so, wha\” Some Definitions. A writer in a juvenile magazine lately gathered a number of diction ary words as defined by certain small people, of which the follow ing seems genuine: “Dust—Mud with juice squeezed out.” “Fan—A thing to brush warm off with.” ’Tee—Water that stayed out in the cold and went to sleep.” “Monkey— A small boy with a tail.” “Pig—A hog’s little boy.” “Salt—Makes your potatoes taste bad when yon do not put it on them.” “Snoring—Letting off sleep.” “Wakefulness—Eyes all thetime coming unbuttoned.” The Eccentric Squirt. Yesterday an up-town lad, whose pants were hanging by one button and whose nose had evidently re cently been used to plow corn, decided to drink out ot the nozzle of a hose that was placidly coiled up in front of a store on Second street. He had just wrapped his features p round the nozzle, and closed his eyes to take a long, invigorating pull at the dripping fountain, when a clerk inside the store who had been watching the thing a little, turned on the full pressure of one hundred and ten feet to the square inch. There was a smothered gurgle : and the sound of hissing waters for a moment, then all was still. The clerk came out with a door-mat and wiped the water from the calm features of the boy as he lay there, then turned him over and opened his mouth so that the water could run out of him, tenderly spanked him with a pine board to restore animation, and sent him home. We never bet except on a dead sure thing, but we are ready to lay a wager that this same lad will hereafter submit to the irksome customs of our modern civilization and drink ont of a tin cup. GENERAL NEWS. Chicago factories are said to em-| ;(uv 8,out) children under fifteen] . ears of age. on;) of whom are girls \li are compelled to work from t-. n > fourteen hours per day. The United State* and Germany have about the same number of war vessels, yet our navy cost, us $17,2t)2, Oil during I SSI, while the Germans expended on their's but $6,762,OIT. The London News says that Eng- i ind and Russia, being assured of the king ofiDenniark’s readiness to act as arbitrator have agreed to in vite him to an arbitration. The -nl j ct of Vice President Hendricks’ address to b • delivered before the Yale law school this month will be: “The Supreme Cgurt of the United States and the Influences that Have Made It the Greatest Judicial Tribual in the World.” We are this year to have two great broods of locusts. One of these is the thirteen and the other the seventeen year sort. Prof. Ri ley, the well-known entomologist, says that this is the first time in 221 years that the two came in con junction. When Congressman Scott of Erie was told by Secretary of State Bay ard to file the papers of one of his constituents who wa« an applicant fora consulship, he replied that he had filed a check for $2.'>,000 last fall to help elect the administration and that was all the papers he intended to file. In order to reach northwest In dia it is proposed to construct a Transarabiau railway from Port Said to Koweit harbor, on the Per- ian gulf, a distance of 1,060 miles The estimated cost is $60,000 per mile. It is deemed an important undertaking as a checkmate to the Central Asian railway scheme now being pushed by Russia. The Mexican house of deputies adjourned until September 16th. The various appropriation bill were passed and provision was made for the appointment ot a committee of fifteen to arrange unfinished busi ness. Committees were also ap pointed to notify the President and the Senate of the adjournment. There are conflicting reports regarding the health of Em peror William, of Germany. The court circular continues silent on the subject. The Germania howev er, as well a3 other newsappers, say that fresh cold kept the Emperor in bed all of Saturday last, and that three doctors were in the palace one day and the entire night late ly- A man named Bowen died in Brooklyn thirty-two years ago, leaving an estate valued at $1,500,- 000, to be divided between three heirs by two trustees. It has been in the courts ever since, aud now all the heirs, two of the lawyers and one of the trustees are dead, the surviving trustee being more than ninety years of age. An English chancery court could hardly have done better. Although the rain fell during the night and there was every indica tion in the early morning of more rain, hundreds of thousands of peo ple were abroad at day break in Paris June 1 crowding the streets and boulevards through which the great procession moved that accompanied the remains of Victor Hugo to his last resting place in the Pantheon. Owing to the crowd ed condition of the hotels thousands were compelled to bivouac in the open air all night. The report of the secretary of the Lynchburg tobacco association shows the sales for this year to date of over 18,000,000 pounds, or about 2,000,000 pounds, more than the same time last year. It is estimated that only about 60 per cent of last year’s crop has been marketed. If this estimate is correct this year’s sales will be the largest on record. Ex-Secretary Boutwell visiting the customs divisions of his old depart ment lately found a familiar face at the desk of the acting chief of this division. “I hope,’’said the Ex-See- retary, “that you will be promoted to fill the position permanently. Your record is very good indeed.” “You ought to know,” replied Mr. McGregor, “for you once dismissed me from the treasury on the charge of beings a Democrat.” The most accommodating po-l- ’ master in the Uuited States live* in . Illinois. His name is PetersoD, a id i his office is located in one of the small towns of Sangamon county., A letter was received at the de- | partment on Thursday signed by a ' score of' Peterson’s townspeople, who accused him of offensive part isanship and demanded that he be , removed at once. At the bottom j of the communication was this en dorsement from Peterson: “I hear tily concur in the above. I think I ought to lie bounced out at once.” &rnall Bros <fc Co. Is the place to find the prettiest and largest line of DRY GOODS, FANCY GOODS, NOTIONS, HOSIERY, Clothing, Hats and Shoes* ALSO A COMPLETE STOCK OF Family Groceries. THEY ALSO SUPPLY FABMERS AND GINNERS WITH BAGGING AND TIES. Having watched for our 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 our store, an examination of our goods and an inquiry of our prices is all that is necessary to convince yon that ours is THE GREAT BARGAIN STORE ! ARNALL BRO’S & CO., Newnan, Ga. W. B. ORR & CO. \re receiving daily additions to their stock oi GENERAL MER JHANDISE, which is varied and too numerous to itemize. Full ineof Ladies, Gents and Children’s J3 H OESI Something extra in handmade, aud every pair guaranteed. DRESS GOODS, Lawns, Organdies, Nuns Veiling, Cashtnere, Berlin Cird, Checks, Nainsook, Swiss and Mull Muslin, a complete assortment of Cotton- ides, Checks, Bleached and Brown Shirting and Sheeting. READY HADE CLOTHING AND HATS, making 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 continuance of the same. W. B. ORB ft CO. THOMPSON, BROS. Bedroom, Parlor and Dining Room Fnrnitnre. Big Stock and Low Prices. PARLOR AND CHURCH ORGANS. WOOD and METALLIC BURIAL CASES seplfi- ly Orders attended to at any hour day or night.^0 THOMPSON BROS., Newnan, Ga. o o PREMIUM BUGGIES JAMES a". V PARKS. f wish to call ttection to the fact that I am still in the Buggy Business, and h-.v,: greater variety in st ick than ever before. I also offer a premium valm-d at ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS to be distrib uted with every ten baggies, to be divided by the purchasers, as agreed upon by themselves, when the tenth buggy has been sold. J. A. Parks. GRIFFIN McNAMARA & ROBERTS, N. ROBERTS. g. g. McNamara. -DEALERS IX- WoA, IN FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC MARBLES AND GRANITES AND IRON RAILINGS smsumUy on hand or made toerder. Tablets, Monuments, Ac. Special designs an.t estimates furnished on applicstion for Marble or Granite work of any description. Lock box 242, Griffin Ga. (CD. F. BREW8TEB, Agknt, Newnan, Ga. mm
