The Newnan herald. (Newnan, Ga.) 1865-1887, October 06, 1885, Image 1

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The Newnan herald., October 06, 1885, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextThe Newham Herald. PUBLISHED EVEkV TUESDAY. Jki I*. CAPES< Editor and Publisher. TKRtS or dCMCBlPTUiXi Wno copy one rear! iri ad variee. |1JjO it not paid in advance, the terms are $2.00 a year. A Clnb of six a’lowed an extra copy. Fifty-two numberscomp'c'o the volume. THE NEWNAN HERALD. WOOT+fJ * CJ^Tfes; Proprietors; ^=WISDOM, JUSTICE AND MODERATION. TEK HS 30 per per year in Advance. VOLUME XX. NEWNAN, GEORGIA,' TUESDAY, OCTOBER 6,1885. NUMBER 51. The Newnan Herald. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. RATES OK ABVERTIS1 One inch one Year, $10; a column oni- year, ?100; less time than three months, $1.00 per inch for first insertion, and Sw» cents additional for each subseqnent in sertion. V Notices in local column, ten eenfs per line lor each insertion. Liberal arrange' ments will be made with those advertis ing by tjje quarter or year. All transient advertisements must be* paid for when handed in. Announcing candidates, Ac., $3.w strictly in advance. Address all communications to A. B. CATES, Newnan, Ga. L'.ur jlve^ afesilbtinlfi, Written through U i 1 hgood or ill; with false or true. A WOMAN’S CHOICE. )iV MATT. CBIM. “Lady Clara Vorodc Vcre. <»f nic Midi! not win renown) You thought tobrrak a country heart Vor pagttiifio ere you went to town.” Quoted Stephen ik-llair, ■ slowly find, meaningly. lying full length jpjt tiie arid gating .dp into Eliiior THrale’s lovely;, beguiling qyes, blue as violets, and set in as fay a face as one could wish to see. A iitilp haughty flush warmed her *nino*h cheeks. Why was It this man dehed her power—held his heart so safely in his own posses sion when others were ready ti fling themselves down at her feetv He belonged only to the wealthj flags of farmers, proudly owned In Wolild n'itbf anything else hut » farhifr; arid spent at h-ast nim faionth^ out df every twelve on his Witi: Hut he wa>i a sbperb looking fellow; loiig limljed and l>road Shoiiidered; with dark brown eyes and hair and mustache of that warm c.olhr neither red, gold nor ijrownjhut an odd mixture of all three. lie was bronzed, too,and Ills well shaped muscular hands bore evi dence of outdoor life, of farm life. They had met at this lake-aide re- Wirt,i^nd >IlssThrale had thought to add him to her liJt of victims be fore she returned to town to givt her yout h and beauty for old Velas co’s diamonds and brown stone pal ace. Hut in tire countryman she met her 'match. Neither her beauty, grace, nor the art of a finished co- tjuet CoUld subjugate him. He vex- hd and thwarted her; and every day lijs independence; his proud manli ness took fresh hold on her. Old Velasco hung aloof, waiting patiently, serenely confident ot his ultimate success. Lo.ve in a farm house, be it ever so handsome and well appointed, would not suit a Woman of the world, and one who loved the gay ways of the world" like Elinor Thrale. Hire Was destined to he a loader In Society; to 3et the fashions, and, in short; to be his wife, wear hisjew- bls; fide lii his carriage and rule his house. And so not having the fire and passion of youth, ire droned along through the days and weeks of the glorious summer, while Stephen Bellair walked and talked with Miss Thrale! varied by moonlight sails on the lake, or long drives along the beachroad. To-day she sat on a rustic bench, clad in some soft tight stuff, a cool, lovely picture under the old trees, and he lay on the grass at her feet, looking up into her violet eyes, and the color in her face came andwent strangely. Velasco camo out on the hotel ve randa, saw them out there, ami strolled across the grass towards them—a little, withered, insignifi- eant-looking old man; with yellow skin ahd shifty black eyes set rather too Close together. “I’ll offer them my new team to lake a drive. Hang the fellow! he Inight break his neck for aught I would care,so she returned unharm ed. “Excuse me for breaking in upon your pleasant little tete-a-tete, but I have a favor to ask of you this after noon,” he said; rubbing his hands to gether and smiling quite genially “A favor; Mr. Velasco?” said Eli nor, in her softest, and sweetest tones. And Stephen set his teetli sharply together, and from his brown eyes leaped a strange, lightning flash of jealous rage. No, he could not stoop to be jealous of that old man; then what emotion caused it? “Yes, a favor, Miss Thrale. 1 have ordered a new team from the cit y. Will you and Mr.—ah—Bellair do me the honor to take the first drive? “With pleasure; that is, if Mr. Bellair is willing to forego the com fort of lying any longer on the grass ” looking laughingly down at him. And he met her glance straightly, unflinchingly. “It is my pleasure to serve you Miss Thrale. I had thought to ask you to drive with me this evening <■ j- .>• t-_\ i. h to test this untried t. : . I fii at your service. 1 -1 hank you!” “And I thank you,” said Velasco, softly. “I particularly desire your opinion.” And Elinor had the grace to blush. Half an hour later they were roll ing swiftly down the beachroad, be hind two showy, fiery-tempered bays, in a new and costly carriage, Elinor leaned indolently back on the silken cushions, with a white parasol interposed between her fair ness and the light of the shining sun. Stephen kept a firm hand on the lines, until a sudden whim to drive look possession of Miss Thrale. “Give me the ribbons, Mr. Bellair.’* “I am afraid you can not manage them. Miss Thfale.” She iatighed in Soft scHrn. “You do not know me. Driving is one of my many accomplish ments.” He gave the lines reluctantly to her. “Be careful; they are no.t trust worthy. Let them get the bit be- ;een their teeth, and we may he found lying in some roadside ditch with— 1 ’ “Broken necks? How can ‘you think of such unpleasant things?” with a half-shudder. But for the second tirrie in her life she discovered that if she could not be conquered^ neither could she con- iuer. , Half a dozen sheep stood huddled >y the roadside, a harmless sigh' trough, but one at which Mr. Vel ? .sco’s horses c'.ioso to take fright. *. fierce plunge, a snort from dilat .14 iR-strils, and they Were off like ie w iuih A faint cry broke from Elinor’s .ips, and the fast flying trees swam 1 ./.iiy before her eyes; but .->lie felt I firm hand take the lilies from her limp grasp; she heard a fir u, quiet voice say! “Hush! he quiet:sit still, anti you dial I he flhvjed. ' “Do pot think of me, but save /ourself. It was my fault. I de- .erve it!” she cried, with biancheu face and quivering lips. And he turned, and brown eyes, in I violet eyes met in a long look, uid into his »‘ame such.passion, such .•ndernesi, such lovel Then even II the face of death, site felt a thrill d triumph quiver through her. She aid conquered. “And what would life be worth to .ne without you ?” in deep tones, shaken with fierce emotion; Not two hours ago he had quoted i'ennyson’S lines td her; calmly, coollyj now He WSs, hfcady to pour out his soul to her; but now he faced ieatli, and death .must wring the ■ruth from every heart. He leaned toward tier, with eloquent entreat ing eyes. “May I, just once, for my love’s -ake? It may be death before us.” And over her face spread a crirn- •on glow, buLher proud lips were laised to meet his, and then she burst into teats; “Oh, Stephen; forgive me.” It was not death, though it came near to it, and Mr. Velasco’s bays were reeking with sweat and trem. tiling in every limb, when they were at last stopped by a party of farm hands who were returning from work. Ifyou think these two young people returned engaged, and with the day set, you are mis taken. They were going to the world again, and though conscious they could not go back just the same, Elinor, at least, strove to re member the claims society had up- in her. She dried her eyes, she leaned back cold and silent, dread ing a proposal now, as much as sht bad once desired it. Then vanity prompted her) now she could no; inderstand the tumult other heart But she need not have dreaded further words from Stephen then 1 [is face wore a mure preoccupied 00k, and when they arrived at the aotei he allowed her to go, only asking the favor of a brief inter view some time during the evening. She knew full well what that ■leant, and went up to her room tod locked the door against all in truders, but whatever battles she fought, never had she looked loveli er than she did that evening, when she camo down, dressed iu delicate reamy laee, a bunch of. cream- •vhite roses on her breast. Not a touch of color about her, if we ex cept her sun-goid hair, her violet eyes, and the warm hue of her vel vet-soft lips. Stephen Bellair saw her as she oarae across the hall, taw the ugly little millionaire meet her at the parlor door, and turned on his heel. Why need he go through the form of a proposal ? Could there be any doubt about her answer ? Nevertheless, later on he present ed hirnselt before her. It was a lovely night; there were idlers on the promenade. Wjuld she— She rose and went with him. Vel asco followed, not too closely, but with dogged determination, a dull fire gathering in his eyes. What did she mean slighting him for that fellow ? “I will not be trifled with. I will make her decide between us to night. I’ll have my triumph over him to pay him back for his pre sumption,” and they had just turn ed into a deserted walk, when they c ame face to face with him. “Excuse me, Miss Thrale, but did you not promisa me an answer to 1$ very important question this eve ning?” She regarded him haughtily. “I do not remember sueh a prom ise.” “Still I must ask you to decide now, at once. I have been patient; I have not interfered with your pleasot-ea this, sunitnetj hot now you must decide between n>e and itiis young man.” She dropped Stephen’s arm, apd retreated a pace or two from them- “Yes;" said Stephen, gravely, “choose between ds. I iov'e yob. I vil! not offer ynd anything else, for ihatfllorte must influence you; Cotile lo me, and i will b'e the Happiest .nan on earth!" his'qyes afire. “And I not oriiy orer yon lovejhut .vealth, power, position—everything ;o make life desirable. No wish shall be left ungratifled; the world ,vill beat yoilf foot- Think of it,” said old Yelascd: She did tiiini* df iti arid 8 few weeks before She would hat'd I £ navi? hesitated over her accep tance, but flow sbe looked on' life lifferently. That crust of worldly selfishness tad melted from around her heart. She looked at the two men in the livery moonlight—one pasi h^ ,, outh, with the marks of a reckless ife on his wBhered face; the other, oung and noble, a prince among ie people—her prince, her lover, Her boson! ltedved j she stretdhC 1 uc her knits to hint, the world and .1 tempting' glories fdrgdtten. “Oh Stephen, y >u are my choice l” And tfle next in unent she was on Stephen’S Heart, and Stephen’s kiss es were fallirig' ori her ' brow,’ eyes ■nd lips. | And Velasco stumbled away, up iet, bewildered. He had been, so •onfident of her, so sure he had ■end her aright. It was enough to laze him to find his judgment so ut erly at fault. “Butwhydoyoachoo.se me, Eli- mr, my queen ?” said S f epHeri, at .ength. , ... . And she looked at Him with' tpn- ter, violet eyes—with soft, burning •lushes and trembling- lips. “Because I love you!” It >vas a marriage that caused a line days’ wonder among Miss Thfale’s friends) but, as some one re- iTiirked: “When it conies to love; you bah lot safeiy decide who Will be a wo- nati’a choice. A Letter and_a “f don’t never waste words,” said old Mr. Brown, *n A bard, driv ing voice, “and I haint good at let- Mils eyes, or would It be left for the terwritin’, but I reckon this’n will ent!” “It's a pity you wrote it so hard, father,’’ said his young daughter, trembling) “it’ll hurt her to the heart-she didn’t never itiean to bor row that.1300,• and then eheat you out of it.” “She didn’t, eh v Thferi why haln’t bind letter. Did his child read those cruel words with the dying light in stricken husband to be treated to the short, stern homily; He went back into the kitchen where Fanny sat crying over the telegram. “Lock up the house,” he said In a hurried way, for fear his voice would latter; “we’ll go at once. I’ll hitch up WhBe ye get ready. And when they had started on their the money back in my.pooket, safe .‘ long Whey he quite broke down in " i It- 1 ^..1 Anlllxr. How To Press Flowers. Take t sheet of thin cotton hat ing and lay the flowers carefully n it, covering them with another beet and then putting the whole inder a slight pressure. Sometimes when the flowers are thick and •outain a gobd deal of moisture, put them in fresh cotton the next lay, and after that do not disturb hem. But in pressing nearly all ;he small flowers, the cotton need not he changed at all, and no^ even opened until the flowers are /reserved. Green leaves and ribbon- jras.s may be treated in the same way as the small flowers; they will <eep their color perfectly. You can .ften make pretty pictures—flower pictures—for hanging in the win- low, by arranging pressed flowers nd leaves prettily, and laying tern between sheets of thin glass, .isten the corners tightly together ith bits of tin, such as come ,r preserving the corners of books hen sent through the mail, bind t ie edges with ribbon, and hang in be window where you will like iest to see them. Painting Shingle Roofs. There are to be found a few farm- •rs who paint the roofs of their mil lings in the f ill belief that he coating will preserve the shin ies for a long time. So far as our xperieuce goes, and it is eonsider- ble, we believe that whatever is ised upon wood to preserve it hould coat both sides of the shin- rles and also penetrate into the ,ores of the wood. The Scientific American says hat more shingle roofs are paint 'd now than ever before in their his- ory. It is mostly seen in cities tnd suburban towns, although in he country it Is by no means rare. Considerable inquiry has led to the conclusion that many have their oofs painted to add to their appear ance, which in many cases it cer tainly does, while others labor un der the impression that the paint acts as a preservative to the shin gles. The Jatter are probably right, provided the paint is renewed as often as it needs to be— If the roof is allowed to remain with the paint partly worn off, the shingles will not sooner than they would were they not painted at all. On the score of durability, however, little can be gained in the cost of paint ing. A good shingle roof unpainted will last a great many years, and the expense of painting it a few times would replace it. One paint er, who had painted the roof of his own house, when questioned by a representative of the Lumberman, used good logic trom his stand point. He thought that painting a roof would add somewhat to its length of life. “You see,” he said “that I have painted mine. I do for myself what I desire to do for oth ers. If I did not, the influence would be bad.” and sound! It’s a year last Christ inas since she pestered me ’bout it, and I haiu’t seen hide nor hair on’t *etj if that haint a clear case o’ Cheatin’, i-'khhy, i’ll like to know what ye call It!” Trie glf-I stopped churning a mo ment, and tirliied * surreptitious tear from her eyelid before sue an swered: “Cafi it .nothing, father, but bad luck; when Slstet Mary borrowed that money to lift the mortgage, 3he expected to pay it back; but you know how Brother John was taken with the rheumatics, and the over flow caihC and the crop was ruined and then she couldn’t fufrj that’s all and God knows it’s enough!” “Twasn’t rfly faritt.” Snapped her father, fiercely, as he pounded on the kitchen table to give vent to his afighf: “I never put it in the agreement tb’foWfot overflows,and rheumatics, andsich like,- and I nev-, er Would hV lefit her the it it hadn’t been, for .your Sniffin’ and pesterin’. And now ye hear, gal, not anuther dime o’ my earnin’s shall they ever sme.ll, and I’ll never for give--^.” The giH Sbtahg tip from the yharn Crying; “'No; fatriet; doii’t say •t—clon’t; don’t say it; father; you’ll be sorry’ some day wfyen It’s too late; besides you are a churcn mem ber, you know!” “You are right- about that,” said Mr. BroWh perversely; “I’m a ehurch member, ahd don’t owe nary a pfersnh a ted Cent, and the Bible says, f an eye for an bye; aiid a tooth fof, a tooth;’ and I’m a going to have I* K> He pounded the table b§afh with his fists, after a fashion he had of wanting to pound something or somebody’ when he felt particularly aggressive. But the sound of his voice had scarce died away, when there came a knock at the door, and one of those iminous yellow envel opes, marked with the impress of the liVestern Union Telegraph Com pany; Was handed in; Mr. BrowD took it and iooked it oXer in a help less kind of fashion Hefofe breaking the seal. “How much to pay,” he asked the boy, and passed over to him the change with trembling hand; though it was characteristic of the man that even then, with the knowledge that the telegram must contain terrible news, he was care ful to count the dimes as they drop ped back into his pocket. t)h, those cruel telegrams! Do the company ever remorsefully count the break- ng hearts that are left in the wake of their messengers? Mr. Brown was a hard man, and loved his mon ey-bags over well, but somewhere beneath the rough outward crusts there was an abiding affection for his children that needed something like the stirring of the soil around the violet-beds, to loosen the selfish bonds, and give his loVe a human voice. And when he read these words, “Mary died this evening; come at once,” a great sudden an guish filled his breast, and silently handing the dispatch to Fanny, he walked from the kitchen and shut himself up in his own room, where years before death-had made sun dry visits. He did not cry out or fall, or make any sign that he was griefstrieken, but he was hurt to thp soul, and a great remorse made him sick and faint. He had never put it in the agreement about sickness, overflows, and bad crops, as he had said: neither had he “put it” that Mary, in her young blooming ma- tronhood days, should die—his first born! How could he bear it? and it was ail the harder because of the cruel words he had uttered while she lay dead at home. Did he say he would never forgive her—did he really—really say that? Fanny had tried to stop him, and brought it to his mind that he was a “churc-h member” and a Christian.' As if a father ought to be merely a Chris tian to his own child. Why hadn’t he given her the money? Might have done so five times over and never missed it. And the old man groaned remorsefully, as with these thoughts in his heart, his gaze wan dered over the great fields where the cotton would soon be a shim mering, fleecy sea, bringing new treasure to his hoarded gains, and making no heart happy'save his own. Those few, poor, stunted acres of John’s and Mary’s! Swamped by the overflow last spring, stock drowned, and John, wading waist deep, fighting with the waters, laid up with the rheumatics. Supf>ose he had given’em a thous and dollars! Ob, the sting of remembering evil talking over th‘c ifwd telling Fanny little things here and there that no one would have supposed he had remembered. “Mary was allurs a dutiful da’ar- ter,” he said, putting into broken sentences the grief and remorse that overwhelmed him; “after her ma died, and she wasn’t knee-high to a duck; she was like a second parent to the little Uns? missed ’em through the measles, and When they was well, took it herself, and laid es efuiet on the b ed for fear o’ giving trouble as if “he warn’t a child.” He didn’t tell her of how, when the second Mrs. Brown was install ed as mistress, Mary became the drudge and maid-of-ali work, and was nurse to half-doifert more little tirorVnS; who,- like their mother, rul ed her with a fad of iron. Nor of Mary’s marriage with a sturdy, yonng fellow, who, for the lack of a little tirtffely help, and the pressure of u large family, Was kept with his nose to the perpetual grindstone. He did not telt trow Mary pinched and worked, and sat up" HI! late hours, and siruggled to help her family, until in consequence of doc tor’s bills and babies, and poor crops, John was forced to give a mortgage 011 his liousV When Her father might have lilted them out of (heir pover ty. He might even have given them a better libriVef the oldest in habitant could not remember yhen the ugly ramshackle affair had been built. Some ancient ancestors had put upaconple of rooms, then ad ded on a few more, until, what with patching rtftd propping tip, -John’s inheritance was SO Offense to the eye. Mr. Brown thought bitterly of all this through the long Journey. Too late- toe late, seem'cc? Written in wonlR of fire on every tree and shrub. At last the house was in -ight; a poor, miserable a place enough, but now, in the month of June, sweet with climbing roses and honeysuckle that the mistress’s hand had trained to the porch. “Whoro-o, Dandy.” The children ivere in the yard ; with a shdtitthev 1 an to the gate; arid, as the old horse stopped, somebody rushed down the steps, and with a cry, “Why father why Fanny,” Mary in her famous clean calico and apron, and cheeks like roses, with the pleasure aud excitement of the visit, was in her ather’s arms—her father who held her as he had never done before, and kissed Her with the tears run ning down his face. “My child,” he said presently, “you were dead, and are alive again. Thank God!” “Why, father?” questioned Mary again, “what on earth is the mat ter ?” And she looked with frighten ed gaze at her sister, vaguely won- lering if her father were stricken with some sudden Insanity. For answer, Fanny drew out the tele gram from her pocket, and gave it to Mary. ‘It’s all a wonderful mistake,” exclaimed the elder woman, glanc ing it over, and hugging father and sister excitedly again. “We have a neighbor, Mrs. Mary Harris, who lied last evening; she has a brother living somewhere near you, by the way, his name is Brown—Richard Brown—your name, father. They carried you the telegram instead of him. What a pity he wont hear of it, so as to get thereto the burying. And so, between hysterical sobs and smiles, and everybody talking at once, and asking questiors that 00 one dreamed of answering, they went in under the bower of roses and honey-suckle, and presently John hobble-I from the field on crutches, and the story was told over again. And when Mary slipped out into tiie kitchen to get an early supper, old Mr. Brown followed here and there, and she was folded tight in her father’s arms again, while the tears streamed down both their faces. It was as if she had been raised from the dead. “My child,” whispered the old man, “I hain’t been the best of fa thers to ye; I ha’shut my eyes and my heart when I ought to ha’ been the one to help ye; never ye mind ’bout that money; don’t ye say one word’bout it, and we’II knrek this old rattletrap down to-morrow, and Fil show you how to build a house!” And so he did and a very comfor table house it was, where John did not haVe to stoop when he went in and out of doors. And would yon lielieve it? The letter, all the more liarsb lor being so brief, hever did reach its destination. Old Mr. Brown’s ehirography was of a very inferior sort, aud the postmaster • uMit’i p-tile :uiiires . iuch us he desired to *lo; then lli- •t.ter was forwarded In the D -m , -it.-r Ofii o at Washington and ii ie time was returned to M irown, who quietly and sat is Tuet < 1- consigned it to Die flames. HlMOKiH S. Teacher—And wl*:«t comes after ’? You do, to see iny sister Ann •Iaria. Sam, why am do hogs <ie most in- etligent folks in de world?—Be- ause (ley noseebery ting. Four boxes govern the world—the •artridge box, the ballot-box, the •ill-box, and th*e band-hox. Flow admirable ar,: thy Works, O Nature! An ordina-v woman’s waist is 30 inches round; an ordi nary man’s arm is 30 inches long. A little boy W10 sat beside a an who had been eating Limber- ger cheese, turned to his mother and exclaimed: “Mama, how J wish I Was'deaf and dumb in my nose !’’• “I don’t mean to reflect on you ?aid a course would-'ie wit to a man whom be had insulted. “No,” was the reply, “yob’re not pmshed enough to reflect on anybody.” A Journal advertises thus: Want- d, a modern youag lady’s fore head. Tiie editor, not having seen one for several years, is willing to pay a fair price tor a glimpse at tin genuine' old article, “Oh dear!” sighed Mrs. P., with a toothache, “can’t people be born without teeth?” “If you will reflect a moment, ray dear ’ replied Mr. P., “you will he coil vioi.e>- that such is the fact.”' .5 me . e.-vant genius has calcu- ated th.it in the United States here is one cow to every four pco- >!e. It is believed that the same ra tio exists in fashionable society, .h*-rt? being a calf to ever four voungmen. v "Aurtt Esther was trying to per- uade little Eddy to retire at sunset ising as an argument that the little •liickens went to roost at that time. ‘Yes,” said Eddy, “but then, Aunty, bo old hen always goes with them.” A lightning experiment: Dig- ,y has heefi workiug hard at It-al- .an all Winter and resolves to try 11 a riewfy arrived emigrant— ‘Pariate Itaftarib, Signor?” Emi grant—“Arrah! Now What are ye ;iven’us?” It was at the close of the wedding breakfast. One of the guests arose tnd, glass in hand, said: “I drink •o the health of the bridegroom. May he see many days like this.” The intention was good, but the bride looked up as if something had lisplesteed Herb “Look heah', Thomas Jefferson, iis heah’s a nice time fo’ you to be xett'n’ home!” growled Aunt Polly, as her boy came in long after mid night “Oh! g’long!” retorted Thomas. “You dunno nuftin’ habn’t yo* nebber beam dat de darkey’s .lour Is jes’ befu’ day ?” “You c'ari^t add different things,” said a school teachet- “If you add a sheep and a cow together, it doe; ,-iot make two sheep and two cows. 1 A little boy, the son of a milkman j held up his hand and said: “That may do with sheep or cows, but if you add a quart of water to a quart • if milk, it makes two quarts of milk. I’ve seen it tried.” “And you say you are innocent of :hc charge of stealing a rooster, from Mr. Jones?” asked an Arkan sas judge of a meek prisoner. “Yes sir, I am innocent—-as innocent as a ahild.” “You are confident that you lid not steal the rooster from Mr. Jones?” “Yes, sir, and I can prove it. I can prove that I didn’t -teal Mr. Jones’ rooster, judge, be- i-atise I stole two hens from Mr, Garston the same liignt, and Jonep lives five miles from Garston’s.’ The proof is conclusive,” said the judge, “discharge the prisoner.” Intimate with ’em.—The other lay a pompo us little fellow at •- linner table was boasting (I great men wi th whom he v. us . n mtimate terms. He v. in eon- ■itant correspondence • with Long fellow, had lunch ,i with Tenny ion, was in fri»-!;.!: .• relations with the Prince of Wan--, and, in short, anew everythi: g and everybody. At length a quiet ino:. idual at the farther end of the room roke in on he conversation with •••m quea- :ion, “My! dear sir, did j • u happen .0 know the Siamese 1..- whei he.v were in this country?” • >ur lero, who evidently had a tab or lying, but no real geni-is, at one eplied; “The Siamese 1 wins, sir'. Yes, sir. I became very intimaii vith one of them, but I never hau the good fortune to meet ihe other.” Af nail Bros <& Co. Is the place to find the prettiest and largest line of 9RT GOODS, FANCY GOODS, NOTIONS, HOSIERY, Clothing, Hats and Shoes* ALSO A COMPLETE STOCK OF Family Groceries. THKV ALSO SUPPL1’ FARMERS AND GINNER9 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 you that ours is THE GREAT BARGAIN STORE AR2f ALL BRO’S & CO., Newnan, Ga THOMPSON BROS. Bedroom, Parlor and Dining Room Furniture. Big Stock and Low Prices. PARLOR AND CHURCH ORGANS. WOOD and METALLIC BURIAL CASES jp^Ordcrs attended to at any hour day or night.^tW icplft- ly THOMPSON BROS., Newnan, Ga. zsro TICE -TO- FARMERS! IF YOU WANT TO PURCHASE A Cotton Seed Oil Mill A Cotton Gin, A Cotton Feeder, A Condenser, A Cot ton Press, or a PAW MILL, Pulleys, Shaftings, Hangers and Mill work, Write to us for prices and discounts. Wc can make it to your interest to buy direct from 11s. E. VanWinkle <fcOo. Manufacturers, Atlanta, Ga. - Notice to the Trade-We give discounts to the trade. May 17. W. S. Winters ESTABLISHED 1373. G. W. Nelson. -DEALERS IN- N D- ]\In$idkl ^lei'dljhudi^e OF EVERY DKS5Ct.il* TION. 1 The rumored differences between 1 lie President and his Cabinet in regard to the execution of the civil -ervice law are explicitly denied. The appointment of Gen. Don Carlos Buell to be Pen.-ion Agent fop Kentucky is exjx -ted to be made soon after the ret.irn of Gen. Black to Washington. t—o—l Takeiuin Exchange for new Ones. CHATTANOOGA, TENN.