The Newnan herald. (Newnan, Ga.) 1865-1887, October 13, 1885, Image 1

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The Newnan herald., October 13, 1885, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextThe Newnan Herald. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. A. B. CATES, Editor and Publisher. tersk of scbrcbiptiox : One copy one year, in advance $1.50 It not paid in advance, the terms «re $2.00 a year. A Club of s: x allowed an extra copy. Fifty-two nu mhors complete the volume. THE WOOTTEX t CATES, Proprietors, WISDOM. JUSTICE AND MODERATION.- TI!!tHS:--SH.JO per per year in Advance. VOLUME XX. NEWNAN, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1885. N UMBER 52. The Newnan Herald. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY* RATES OF ADVERTISI Oue ir.ch one year, *10; a column one year, $100; less time tlran three months, $1.00 per inch for first insertion, and 50 cents additional for oach subsequent in sertion. Notices in local column, ten cents per line lor each insertion. Liberal arrange • ments will be made with thoso advertis ing by the quarter or year. All transient advertisements must be paid for when handed in. Announcing candidates, Jkc., $3.CQ strictly in advance. Address all communications to A. it. CATES, Newnan, Ga. Ohr lives are albums, written through Withgood or ill, with false or true. “LITTLE MRS. HAYNES.” liY MARGARET VERNE. I. . It was an eventful era in my young life when my father announc ed his intention of renting the light, airy, southern chamber of our old brown house to a young por trait-painter who was about becom ing a resident in our .village dur ing a few weeks of summer. Never before had an event so stirring and ekeiting in its tendency broken bVer the monbtony of my existence Never before had my childish imag ination been furnished with so wide a field of action, or my little heart throbbed and palpitated with sucl a strange mixture of wonder and delight. A portrait painter undei .ourown brown roof, within the wall, of my own home—what, a ran chjncefortny inquisitive eyes t< draw in a new fund of knowledge! What an object of envy I should h( to my little mates, and how daintily would I mete out to them what I learned from day to day of the won drous man of the woi drous employ ment ! I had heard of portrait painter.^ before, it is true, lull only as I had heard and read of fairies jn my lit tle story-hook, or listened to my fa thbr ch he talked of kings and •(.niirtiers in the great world afar off. Upon our parlor walls from my ear liest remembrance had. hung por traits of my grandfathers and grand mothers, but I had no idea how their faces came stamped upon the dark canvas, or when or by whom their shadows had been fixed with in the heavy gilt frames. Like the trees that waved by the door, and the lilacs that blossomed every .year by the old gale, they had to hie always beet! so. But now my eyes were to rest up on .the face of one whose existence had been like a myth, a fable! What n wonderful personage he would he! What a dark visage lie would boast, and what a monstrous, giant-like form! How entirely un like every person that 1 had ever preu or k»own would be this por- trnit painter! _ While these speculations wore at Iheir height in my busy brain, the hero made his appearance, scatter ing them mercilessly to the four winds. There was nothing giant like in the lithe, graceful figure that sprang from the village coach, or dark in the pleasant, boyish face, lit up by a merry pair of blut e-yes, running over with mirth and iliischief. His name, too, quite liki t tbe generality of names, had noth ing wonderful or striking by which to characterize it. He was simply Frank Haynes, nothing more or less, and when, with a pleasant, easy grace, he sought to win my childish favor, I should have been quite at home had not the stunning knowledge of his art overpowered me. It was a strange freak for a child of 10 summers, but somehow It crept into my baby brain that 1 tnust net like him, although tin- while, in spite of myself, a prefer ence for his opinions, ways' and looks grew up strong within me. It he spoke to the when any ODe was observing him I was silent and shrunk away from him timidly, but when we were alone I chatted and chirruped like a young robin. I think he must have noticed this, and from it taken into his head the •boyish idea of teasing me. To him, lie said, I was little Phebe Lester no longer, now that lie knew how much I cared for him. For thi future he should call me Mrs. Hay nes—little M rs. Haynes—and should he very angry if everybody in the house did not follow nis example. 1 must not even have any little beaux among th» schoolboys now that my name was changed; but I must be prim and proper, like any married wom&n who was faithful to her hus band. „ “Would I agree to this?” he ask ed. I glanced up from the hern of my white muslin apron, which l had been twisting about my fingers, to leet my mother’s eye fixed laugh ingly upon my face. In a moment ’lips closed resolutely, while he, seeing at once the cause of my si lence. reached out of the window «l i . a rose from a running 11... t crept nearly to the mossy rtVls. “Little Mrs. Haynes must wear the rose,” he said. It would never Sdo tor her to toss her head and [throw his gifts carelessly by. All ! married women wore flowers which their husbands gave them. Would I wear the rose ?” I glanced about the room again. My mother was nowhere to be seen, and so I said that I would wear it, if he wanted me to. “And would I consent to be called little Mrs. Haynes?” “Yes, I would consent.” never look about for a wife, not should I ever lack about for a hus band. We were Mr. and Mrs. Hay nes. Did that suit me!” “Oh, yes, that suited me! I like that!” “Well, then, he should have to buy me a little gold ring to wear upon my third finger to let folks know some one owned me.” “No, I didn’t like rings.” “Wouldn’t I like a ring that he would buy?" “No—I wouldn’t like a ring ai any rate.” During his stay, which was pro tracted to months instead of weeks he strove in every way to change my determination about the en gagement ring as he termed it. I was inexorable. A ring I would not wear. Not even when he made ready for his departure, and told me that in a few weeks he should be thousands of miles away from me, nor when he piled up befnn •no pictures that he had drawn ai lis leisure,during the long summet miirs that hung heavily upon hi- ■ ands, would I revoke my decision i would take the finely executed drawings, the prettily framed por trait of hi mscli, but I would havt no ring*. At last he went away from us. I shall never forget the morning, or how cold, dull and cheerless it seem ed to me. How dreary and desolate everything looked because he was roiiig away. It was no everyday grief that bore down upon my young heart, no childish promise Unit assured him as he kissed my quivering lips, that I would never forget him, and that I would always >e his little Mrs. Ilaynfes. •‘Would 1 write to him and sign rhat name?” “Yes, I would.” “I was a good girl then, and he would never forget me. Good-by!” “Good-by?” My voice trembled and fluttered upon the word. In my shortlife they were, the hardest I had found to speak. During the nexi two years no la dy love could have been more faith ful to her absent knight than I was to Frank Haynes. The brightest moments of iny life circled about the’reception of his letters, the greatest joy of life was in answering them. Among my schoolmates I had no childish love, no juveniles to wait ujion me to sleigh-rides and parties that the children in the neighborhood delighted in. If ! could not go and come alone I would remain at home, whatever might be the ^inducements offered to tempi me from my unswerving course. I was little Mrs. Haynes, and little Mrs. Haynes I was bent on remain ing. But while I was in the very midsl of my heroic devotion a terrible ru mor reached my ears, a rumor that Frank Haynes, my self-appointed lord and master, was engaged to a young and beautiful lady in the city. It was a dreadful blow to mj precocious hopes and plans, though for a long while I battled against crediting the report. Hadn’t Frail! told me he would never look aleou for a wife ? That I was the only lit tie lady who should bear his name? Didn!t he write me regularly ever> fortnight, commencing his letters, ■‘Dear little Mrs. Haynes,” and tell ing me to be faithful to him ? And —and—would he do this if he were engaged ? No, not a bit of it! Some one had maliciously lied about him. had manufactured the story from their own wicked imagination. 1 would not believe it though tin whole world stood up before me and testified to its truth. As if to reward me for my faith, and set mv prejudiced little mind to rights, the next coach sat Frank down at our door. He thought ht must come and see his little wife once more, he said, as l went timid ly forward to meet him, though he thought it very bad taste in me to grow at sueli a rapid rate. He was afraid I’d grow out of my engage ment ; he should have to put a loal of hot bread on my head to keep me within bounds. We had been en gaged two years; I was 12 years old and a head taller than I was at 10. He was going to Europe to stay three or four years; what would I be when he returned? He did not dare to think. He believed I would be as tall as he by that time. Wouldn’t I? “I h >ped so,” 1 answered, tartly, thinking the while of the story of his engagement. “Whew! You are taking on the airs of a fine young lady already, my little Phebe,” he answered, laughing heartily. “You wouldn’t give me one of your brown curls to-day, if my heart should break for it, would you?” “No, I have none to spare.” “Not one?” “No, not one.” “Why ?” “Cause “Cause what?” “Because she has heard strange reports of you, Frank,” broke in my mother, mischievously. “She hasn’t any idea of letting you rob your sincere alegiance to her. Sl>e is a lady of spirit, you see.” On my faith, she is!” he exclaim ed, gayly, fixing his blue eyes upon my face. And I trow I’ia in love with her for it. Never mind reports, my little lady.” I answerd only by a curl of my lips, while he reached out his hand to draw me to a seat upon Iris knee. “No, I won’t sit there!” I cried, pushing away his hand, while the tears, which had been crowding their wfly into my eyes, gave a.sud den dash down my burning cheeks. “I’ll never sit there again, never!” “My dear little Phebe!” There was a real pathos in his rich manly voice, a quick, penetrat ing surprised look in his clear, blue eyes, as he uttered these words) followed by a rapid, wondering expression of tenderness, as he re peated them. “My dear little Phebe! May God •less you"’ I stole quietly away from him out •f the house, with that fervent ben- •dh-tion lying fresh and deep upon ny childish heart, and threw my- •elf down in the shade of the old •rchard trees and sobbed out the heaviness that passed upon my spirits. For hours I lay therein the mellow September sunshine, trooding over the little romance ihat had so silently and strangely grown into the woof of my almost baby life. I wept before my time for the delicious griefs that forever cling to a sweet and conscious womanhood. When I returned to the house Frank had taken his leave, but in ny little work-basket he left a mall pearl box, which contained a plain gold ring! Did I wear it! Are you a woman, reader, and ask it!' • it. “Phebe, I hebe! mother says come lown stairs! There is a gentleman n the parlor who wishes to see you.” The words broke harshly into my pleasant dre m* which I ha l be ii weaving all the long, golden July afternoin, in the unbroken stillness >f my little chamber. At my feet, ipon the carpet, with its leav«s rumpled and crushed, lay my neg lected Virgil in close proximity to i huge Latin dictionary, while upon ny lap, in a wrinkled condition, •■ y sewing was lying, with a needle banging by a long line of thread, icarly to t he floor, as it escaped luckily from a rouud of inonoto* nous h mining, which as yet boast- si hut two or three stitches at its •onimencement. “Who can it he that wishes to see me?” I exclaim d, rising hastily ind calling after my 6-year-old brother. “Who is it, Charlie?” “Don’t knbw; it’s somebody. Mothersays come down.” “Who can it be?” An hour since I . lad seen a gentleman with a heavy learded face come up the walk, but T was too busy with my dreams to iotice him very particularly. Still is I recalled his face and figure, and lis quick springing step, there seem- d something strangely familiar in nem. Who could it be? My heart •eat rapidly. Surely I had seen lat face and form before, aud a .atne that was singularly dear to oe trembled upon my lips—“Frank Haynes!” But I could not go down to meet dm, though I was summoned a thousand times. I did not wish to -ee him; why should I? The<e was io occasion for it. 1 was not the foolish little girl of 12 summers whom he had left five years ago in short frocks and curls, tut a full ;rown woman instead. No, I was lot the same. I would not go lown. Besides, a sudden liea ache .vas nearly blinding me. Mother ! walk below. I did not glance ea- 1 gerly from the window, or peer carefully from the half closed shut ters, but clasped my hands tightly over my yes till the sound of footsteps died away in the distance, then 1 crept stealthily down-stairs and stepped softly into the silent parlor, where so lately he had been. I was half way across the room be fore I noticed that I was not alone, and then before I could make hasty retreat, a glad, merry voice, rich with its golden music, exclaimed: “My own dear little Mrs. Haynes, as I live! How happy I am to see you!” and a hand clasped mine tightly, while a pair of bearded lip? were bent down to mine. I drew my head back haughtily. I was a little child no longer. I would not accept, even from him, the caress es that he had bestowed upon me five years before. “Ah, Mr. Haynes,” I said, bow ing in a dignified way, “I am pleased to see vou:” My manner chilled at once .his warm genial nature. Stepping backward from me and releasing my hand he said, with a curl of his finely cut lips: “Your pardon, Miss Lester; I had quite forgotton that you had grown to be a fine lady!” I bowed him back a reply, flash ing a quick, impetuous glance upon him as I did so. But there was no pleasantry attempted on his part, and when my mother entered the room a few moments after and re ferred; laughingly, to our old en gagement, he answered her in few evasive words, as though the sub ject was not an agreeable one to him. Affairs had taken an unhappy turn, hut it was too late to remedy them, and day after day passed away, leaving Mr. Haynes as cold and distant as he had been from the moment I first repulsed him. I would have given worlds to have recalled irty unlucky words; yet since they were spoken, I would not unbend a moment from my calm, cold dignity, though I was as miserable and wretched as I could well be, and knew that Mr. Haynes stiared my wretchedness. All the lime that I could spend in my chamber without being abso lutely rude was passed there till my strange, unusual appearance was no ticed by my father and mother, and ray mood commented freely upon before our guest-. ‘You appear so strange, Phebe,’> said my mother one morning, “I r eally do not know how to under stand you. I’m afraid that Mr. Haynes will think you are not pleas ed to see him. Every chance that occurs you resolutely avoid him as though he were the veriest mon ster, Instead of a dear friend. What is the matter?” “Nothing. The strangeness of my appearance is hut a reflection. I annot help it. Mr. Haynes hates, and despises me now.” I said, bury- ibg my tearful eyes in my hands. “Phebe!” My mother’s voice was stern and reproachful, but I did not heed it. “He does hate me, mother! hates me with a ” “Your pardon, little Phebe—Miss Lesjer—but he does not!” broke in the clear, rich voice of Mr. Haynes. •‘Of all persons in the world ’’ He paused, and in a moment more I heard my mother step lightly from the room. lam not cold, haughty, and proud, - ’ 1 said, excitedly, looking up into his face, and I do like you just as well—as well—” “What, little Phebe?” he asked eagerly, a quick expression of joy THE BOTTOM LESS JUM jould not ask it of me when I was , .ardlv able to sit up. But what | li f? htin g U P his hlue eyes, would he thbik? would he care?: “As well as ever I did!” I faltered. Would he still remember the little ! “And-how well is that? So well Mrs. Haynes of five years ago? ' that during all these weary years Little! 1 repea ed the word as 11 y° H have not cherish*! a dream of stood before the long mirror, which j l ^ e future that did not encircle me! gave back tc mean accurate pi t -j So well that every strong, passion- cure of myself. A slender passable form; a dark clear complexion; large, gray eyes; a mouth whose redness seemed to have robbed my cheeks ol their color; white teeth’ a forehead broad but not high; large, heavy braids of chestnut- brown hair, was the likeness fram ed before my eyes. I turned away “Then it was all right. He would* her of her curls while she doubts ate hope of yrfur womanly nature has reached out constantly to me! As-well as I have liked, aye loved you—till every pulse of your heart beats for me! As well as this, Phebe?” I covered my face that he might not read the whole expression of my love in my telltale eyes, and be with a sigh, and glanced down to j shocked that it had grown to be so tny hand. Upon the third finger of i near a wild, passionate idolatry, the left was a plain gold circlet. The j “Will you become Mrs. Haynes in hot blood rushed up into ray cheeks • truth t in earnest, Phebe!” he asked, as I looked at it I would wear it j drawing me to my old seat upon no longer. He should never know ; his knee, that I had worn it at all. Just then ! “Yes.” my brother came again to the door j ttAnd wffl at , ast wear the rin „ ol my room, crying out a new mes- ; sa g e I held up my finger before his eyes. “Mother says little Mrs. Haynes is wanted down stairs.” “I have a terrible headache, < 'har- lie. Please tell mother so,” and I sank down upon a chair close by the window, and leaned my head upon a chair. “Dear, dear! if they wool.! bat for get me!” I murmured to myself, as the ham of their conversation came clearly to my ears. An hour pass ed away and I hear a sound of voices in the hall, then steps in the “My own darling iittle wife: at last my little Mis. Haynes, in good faith!” he exclaimed, covering my lips with kisses. That night there were sly looks and glances cast toward me at every turn,and at the sopper-table my fath er quite forgot himself, and called me “little Mrs. Haynes” again. Reader, I have been a happy wife for some three blessed, sunshiny years, and as you may have already conjectured, “my name is Haynes!” I saw it hanging up in the kitch en of a thrifty, healthy, sturdy farm er in Oxford county, Maine—a bot tomless jug! The host saw that th* curious thing caught my eye and smiled. “You are wondering what that jup is hanging up there for with its bot tom knocked out,” lie said:’ “My wife, perhaps, can tell you the story better than I can; but she is bashful and I ain’t, so I’ll tell it.” “My father, as you are probably aware, owned this farm before me He lived to a good old age, worked hard all his life, never squander! d money, was a cautious trader, and a good calculator; and, as men-were accounted in his day and genera tion, he was a temperate man. I was the youngest boy; and when the old man was ready to go—an/d he knew it--the others agreed that since I had stayed at home and tak en care of the old folks, the farm should be mine. And to roe it was willed. I had been married then three years. “Well, father died—mother had gone three years before—and left the farm to me, with a mortgage on it for two thousand dollars. I’d nev er thought of it before. I said to Mollie, my wife: “‘Mollie, look here. Here fath er’s had this farm in its first strength of soil, with all its magnificent tim ber, and his six boys, as they grew up, equal to so many men to help him; arid he worked hard, worked early and late) add yet look at it! A mortgage of twd thousand dollarsj What can I do?’ “And I went to that jug—it had a bottom to it then—and took a good stiff drink of old Medford rum Iron, it. “I noticed a curious look on the face of my wife, just then, and I ask ed her what,she thought of it, for 1 supposed she was thinking of whai I’*l been talking about. And so she- was, for she said: “ ‘Charles, I’ve thought of this a great deal, and I’ve thought of a •way in which I believe I can clear this mortgage off before five years are ended.’ “Says I: “ ‘Mollie, tell me how you’ll do it.’ “She thought for a while, and then said, with a funny twinkling in her blue eyes—says she: “ ‘Charlie, you must promise me this, and promise me solemnly and sacredly: Promise me that you wilt never bring home for the pur pose of drinking for a beverage, at any time any more spirits than you can bring in that old jug—the jug your father has used ever since I knew him, and which you have used ever since he was done with it,’ ‘ Well, I knew father used once in a while, especially in haying time, and in winter when we were at work in the woods, to get an old gal lon jug filled; so I thought that she meant that I should never buy more than two quarts at a time, I thought it over, and after a little while told her that I would agree to it. “ ‘Now mind,’ said she ‘you are never to bring home any more spir its than you can bring in that iden tical jug.’ And I gave her the promise. “And before I went to bed that night I took the last pull at that jug. As I was turning out for a sort of nightcap, Mollie looked up, and says she: ‘Charlie, have you got a drop left?’ “There was just about a drop left. We’d have to get it filled on the morrow. Then she said, if I had no objections, she would drink that last drop with me. 1 shall never forget how she said it, “that last drop!’ However, I tipped the old jug bottom up, and got about a great spoonful, and Mollie said that was enough. She took the tumbler and poured a few drops of hot water in to it, and a bit of sugar, and then : Arnall Bros & Co. Is the place to find the prettiest and largest line of DRY GOODS, FANI7 G30DS, NOTIONS, HOSIERY, Clothing, Hats and Shoes* ALSO A COMPLETE STOCK OF Family Groceries THEY ALSO SUPPLY FARMERS AND GINNKRsVlTH BAGGING AND TIES. EVER BEFORE, thus being enabled to offer Bargains in all Kinds of Goods. A visit to otir store, an examination of our goods and an inquiry of our prices is all that isnecessarv to convince yon that ours is THE GREAT BARGAIN STORE ARNALL BRO’S & CO., Newnan, Ga. “Well, 1 gut up the next m. r ing ind did my work al the 1mre, tin n ■ ime in and ate my breakfast, but o» with such an appclite as a farni- r i light Io have, and I could noi ! link then that my appetite hail la- uii to fail. However, I ate break tst,smd then went out and hile!n*t j ,;> the old mare; for to tell tin ! rulh, I was feeling the need of : j lass of spirits, and I hadn’t a .drop j ii the house. I was in a hurry to i ret to the village, I hitched up aud I •ante in for the jug. I went for it j n tiie old cupboard and took it out, j ind— “nid you ever break through the ; hin ice on a snapping cold day, and ind yourself in an instant, over I vonr head in freezing water? Be cause that is the way I felt at that moment. The-jtig was there but the! bottom was gone. M-dlie had tak en a sharp chisel and a hammer, ank with a skill that- might have j done credit to a master workman,. [j av j n g -watched for on/ chance and been very careful in- the pu - she had clipped the bottom clean • • out of the jug, with, *ut even crack ing chase of our stock, we have BOUtiH 1 ! OIIEAI EL TUAE the edges of .lie sides. I looked at the jug, and then she burst out. She spoke, oh, I h d never heard any th ng like it! No, nor have 1 heard anyth ng like it since. She said: “Charh s,that’s where the m«rt- gage on this firm cam * from! Lt was brought mine in that jug—two quarts at a time! And there’s where your white,'clean skin, and your clear pretty eyes -r.g.ing. And in the jug, my 1 usband. your aap -life is going also. Oh, let it he n it is, dear heart! anti remember your promised” “And then, she threw i.er arms around iriv neck, i i I curst into tears.. She c >.i. s c..k u« mote. • a nil . was no need. My eyes wereoj.tii.il as though by magic. In a single minute the whole sc no passed before me. I saw all the mortgages t n all the farms in our aeighborhood; and I thought where ■ he money had gone. The very ast mortgage father h d ever made •vas to pay a bill held against him by the man who had filled this jug for years! Yes, I saw it as it passed before me—a flittering picture ol rum! rum! rum!—debt! debt! debt! indintheeud death! And I re turned my Mollie’s kiss and said I: “Mollie, my own, I’ll keep the promise! I will, so helji me heav en ! “And I have kept it. In 1 ss than live years, as Molli e had said, the mortgage was cleared off; my appetite came back to me; and now we’ve got a few thousa d dol lars at interest. There hangs the old jug--just as we hung it on that day; and from that time there hasn’t been a drop of spirit brought into the house for a beverage, which that bottomless jug wouldn’t hold. “Dear old jug! We mean to keep it and hand it down to our children for the lesson it can give them—a lesson of life—of a life happy, peace ful, prosperousjmd blessed!” . And as he ceased speaking, his wife, with her arm drawn tenderly iir.iiad the neck of her youngest boy, mur.i.ured a ferve- t amen. Confused. It is a pathetic sight to watch the •neanderings of the childish mind through the intricacies of English grammar. Little Jane had- repeat edly been reproved for doing vio lence to the moods and tenses of the verb “to be.” She would say “I be,” instead of “I am,” and for a lime it seemed as if no one could prevent it. Finally, Aunt Kate made a rule not to answer an in correct question, but to wait until it was corrected. One day, the two sat together - Annt Kate busy with embroidery; j w g Winterg and little Jane over her doll. Pres-! THOMPSON BROS. Bedroom, Parlor and Dining Room Furniture. Big Stock and Low Prices. PARLOR AND CHURCH ORGANS. WOOD and METALLIC. BURIAL CASES ^^■Orders attended to at any hour day or night,, mft < e P ,R - 'y THOMPSON BROS., Newnan, Ga. NOTICE -TO- FARMERS! IF YOU WANT TO PURCHASE A Cotton Seed Oil Mill 1 A Cot- A Cotton Gin, A Cotton Feeder, A Condenser, ton Press, or a W AW MILL, Pulleys, Shafting’s, Hangers and Millwork, Write to ns for prices and discounts. We can make it to yonr interest to buy direct from ns. E. Van Winkle & Co. Manufacturers, Atlanta, Ga. Notice to the Trade-We give discounts to the trade. May 17. ESTABLISHED 1873. G. Wi Nelson. ently doll society became tedious- and the child’s attention was at tracted to the embroidery frame. “Aunt Kate.” said she, “ please she tinkled her glass against mine, tell me what that is going to be ?” just as she’d seen ns boys do, when But Aunt Kate was counting, and we’d been drinking to good luck : did not answer. Fatal word, he! and says she: ‘Here’s to the old ! It was her old enemy, and i brown jug.” i alone could the child ascribe .. c “Sakes alive! I thought to my-' silence that followed, self, that poor Mollie had been! “AuntKate,” she per-;.,ted, with drinking more of the rum than wasjan honest attempt i>. correct her good for her, and I tell you it kind j mistake, “ pleas- i. .1 me what that of cut me to the heart. I forgot all! is going to an : about how many times she’d seen j Still auntie sa’ .-.ilently counting ine whe^i my tongue was thicker J though her lip curled with amuse- than it ought to be, and my legs not' ment. so steady as good legs ought to be; Jane sighed, but m • !e another but I said nothing I drank the sen- patient effort. liment—“The old brown jug’—and “Will you please tel: u <• what let it go. : that is going to are?” “Well, I went out after tnat, and Aunt Kate counted on, j- -rh.ij*- by didmychores,and then wenttobed;! this time actuated by a wicked -i - and the last thing I said before leav-! -ire to know what would come h. x WintersANDNelson -DEALERS IN- -A N D- (A) JVIu^idal JVtercljkijdi^e The little girl gathered her energit - for one last and jreat e!f 11. “Aunt Kate, what am !!iat g>i i g to are?” Mr. John B. Gojigh cheerfully ing the kitchen—(his very room where we now sit, was: “We’ll have the old brown jug filled to-morrow.’ “And then I went off to bed. And I have remembered ever since that I went to bed that night, as I had i bears testimony: Intemperance is done hundreds of times before, with nothing like so bad now as it was -Or EVERY DESU TON. a buzzing in my head that a healthy man ough* not to have. I didn’t think of it then, nor had I ever thought of it before, but I’ve thought of it- many times since, and have thought of it with wonder and awe. when I was a boy, and things are going to be a great deal better yet. ft is gntifying to hear of reforma tion and the hope oi furl her immove ment from one so well qualified to i judge of the public last--. Tnken in Exchange for new Ones. CHAT i ANOOGA, TENN.