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W H PtrHu
The Newman Herald.
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i. B. CATES, Editor and Publisher.
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THE NEWNAN HERALD.
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WISDOM, JUSTICE AND MODERATION.
TEBXS :-■»!.50 per year in Advisee.
VOLUME XXIT-
>EW>AN, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1887.
NUMBER 17
The Newnan Hebald.
PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY
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Our lives are albums, written through
With good or ill, with false or true.
LITTLE SEAMSTRESS.
Jenny Wilson was sitting sewing by
the window of the little shabby parlor
that looked out on tiie High street, It
was a dull afternoon in November; the
sky was covered witli heavy, drab colored
clouds; the last few yellow leaves were
falling from the great elm in the market
place, and there was a raw chill feeling
in the air. Jenny was stitciiing away
diligently. She liad set herself a task to
finish before tea time—a silk gown to
mend and alter for the clergyman’s wife,
who was going to dine that evening at
Rcyhill place.
Jenny was not pretty, but she had a
fresh, sweet little face, a large, smiling
mouth, pleasant gray eyes, and neat,
smooth hair. There was something cheery
and courageous about the little woman.
Life was not very smooth to her. She
had to stitch morning, noon and night to
keep her invalid mother, and it was hard
work to make both ends meet. But no
one ever heard Jenny complain. She
used to go singing about her work, and
up and down the dark creaking stairs
that led to her mother’s Ixxlroom. Jenny’s
voice was delightful. It did you good to
hear it. it was so clear and sweet and
fresh, like the voice of some lark on dewy
summer mornings. And it had been very
well trained by tile organist, who wil
lingly devoted his spare hour of an even
ing to teaching the little seamstress to
play and sing.
The market place looked very empty
when Jenny looked out on it every now
and again to rest her eyes. But presently
she heard the noise of wheels, and saw
the Rcyhill carriage with Duly Violet
herself in it, and another lady, Lady
Eleanor Arden, a frequent visitor to Rev-
liill place, seated by tier. Lady Eleanor
was dark and pale, with a lteautiful
melancholy face and large sad eyes—
eyes that seemed to haunt you. She was
an heiress. People said that she had
cared all her life for Mr. Richard Feyne,
one of I aidy Violet’s penniless younger
brothers. Lady Violet, so tho story rim,
would have l>eon very glad to have had
her for a sister-in-law, and was always
asking her to Reyliill to meet Mr. Feyne~
but he never seemed to regard Eleanor in
any other light than that of a mere
friend. Lady Eleanor had had a great
deal of trouble; she had lost both of her
parents and her only brother, and the
wealth that would have been such a
pleasure to many people, seemed to her
only a burden.
To Jenny's astonishment the carriage
btopjHsi bornre ber mother's house, and
the powdered footman rang the boll.
Jenny ran to open the door.
“Does Miss Wilson livo here?" rsked
Duly Violet, from the carriage.
“My name is Jane Wilson,’’ answered
Jenny, with a vague ho|)e that Violet had
come to order a dress of her. “I am a
dressmaker.”
Duly Violet Sprang out of the car
riage and Lady Eleanor followed her.
“We want to hoar you sing,” said
Lady Violet, pleasantly. “Will you sing
to us?"
Jenny's little workroom had never
held such grand visitors before. It was
a dingy little parlor, with horsehair chairs
and sofa. There were a few prints on
the walls: Tho lord lieutenant of the
county, holding a roll of papers in his
hand, and with a pillar and -a curtain in
the background; “The Mooting of Wel
lington and Blucher after Waterloo, ” and
a lady simpering at a dove upon her
finger.
Jenny sat down shyfajto the little old
piano, and began, with a certain tremor
in her voice, “Angels ever bright and
fair." The pure notes, like the song of
a lark, rang out through the little room,
growing stronger and clearer as Jenny
gat liered courage and went on.
Lady Violet was warm in her praises
Of Jenny’s singing.
“Wit you come tip to Rcyhill this
evening, and sing to us?” she asked.
“We want to have some music; my
brother, Mr. Feyne, is so fond of it.
What would be your terms?’' she went
on. hesitatingly, and with a pretty blush
of embarrassment, and then she named a
sum which filled Jenny with delight,
What would it not buy for her invalid
mother!
That evening at Reyliill, when the
ladies came into the drawing after din
ner. they found Jenny already awaiting
them, ns Duly Violet had directed. She
had dressed herself in her Sunday black
silk, with a bunch of violets fastening
her neat muslin fichu, and a silver cross
—her only ornament—on black velvet
round bur neck. Lady Eleanor came up
and said a few kind words to her.
Eleanor was very gentle, often very si
lent, but when she spoke you could not
choose but listen, the voice was so sweet,
and the words themselves never seemed
trivial.
The drawing room at Reyhill was sepa
rated from the dining room by large
folding doors and a heavy brocade cur
tain. As Eleanor was speaking Jenny
saw an alisent and preoccupied expression
come over her face, and, following the
direction of Eleanor's eyes. Jenny saw
that the curtain had been pushed aside
to admit one of the gentlemen. He
came up to Lady Violet.
“I could wait no longer.” he said;
“they were discussing hounds and horses,
and I thought it would never end. Now,
Violet, when is our music to begin?' ’
Lady Violet introduced him to Jenny
as her brother. Mr. Feyne.
“Miss Wilson is going to sing to us,
Richard." she said. "Will you and
Eleanor take her into the hall and settle
with her what the music is to be? I
must go and ‘talk pretty.’ “she con
tinued. in an undertone to her brother,
glancing at the other ladies, ’ ’ and pres
ently we will come in and listen.”
The piano stood at one end of the hall,
and here at night it was Richard's habit
to sit and listen to music in the dark
comer beside the piano, where he could
watch the singer almost unseen himself.
Jenny followed Lady Eleanor into the
hall. Mr. Feyne opened the piano for
her and arranged the music. There was
a kindness anj a courtesy in his manner
which were peculiar to him—a great
gentleness and deference whenever he
addressed a woman. He was by nature
very enthusiastic, and, whatever the en
thusiasm of the moment might be (and ,
the one succeeded the other with great
rapidity), it was to him at the time the
one great aim and object of -his life.
Music was now his passion. A few
weeks ago he knew little. about it, and
cared lew Now he' could oonceivfe na
greater pleasure than listening to music
all day and every day. Lady Violet had
sung to him until she was hoarse, al
though her style of music was not ac
cording to his taste. She sang nothing
but modem ballads and little French and
Italian songs, and had attempted in vain
to render classical music to his liking.
Then it was that she liad taken counsel
of the organist who had recommended
Jenny to her.
So Jenny sat at the piano and sang one
song after another to him. Her reper
tory contained chiefly old ballads—such as
“My Mother Bids Me Bind My nair”—
and solos from the oratorios. Mr. Feyne
said very little, but sat in his dark comer
witli his eyes fixed on Jenny. It was
only when Lady Eleanor said that she
feared they were tiring Miss Wilson that
ho said in a low voice to Jenny: “Ah, I
forgot that I was selfish; I could listen to
you forever.”
Lady Violet, who liad come into the
hall, rang the hell and asked the servant
to show Miss Wilson'to tho housekeeper’s
room. “You will want something after
all that singing;” she said, kindly, “and
I have told Mrs. Benson to have some
supper ready for you.”
Jenny was bowing her way out when
Mr. Feyne made some hasty steps towards
her.
“I cannot thank you enough,” he said,
gently; “you have so much reverence and
religion in the tones of 3-our voice, that
one feels tetter for listening to you.”
When she was gone the party criticised
her singing.
“It is a pity,” said Mr. Reyliill. "that
she doesn’t learn something besides those
old songs and sacred music. It’sallvery
well of a Sunday evening to have sacred
music, but one likes a little change of a
week day.”
Mr. Feyne answered a little hotly that
to sing any other kind of music would
sjxiil Miss Wilson’s voice. “Don’t you
agree with me?” lie cried, turning to
Dull-Eleanor, “that her style is perfect.
All}' change would be for the worse.”
“She sings charmingly,” replied Lady
Eleanor, a little vaguely. Whereupon
Mr. Feyne returned.
“All! I forgot. Lady Eleanor. You
don’t care alxmt music. I wonder at it.”
Eleanor grew crimson. “I am learn
ing to care for it.” she said hesitatingly.
The next day at breakfast Richard
begged bis sister to ask Miss Wilson to
come up again and sing. Lady Violet was
only too glad to be able to provide some
pleasure for him. She readily acquiesced,
but when she and Lady Eleanor were
sitting together in the little boudoir, she
referred to the subject of Jenny, and
found Eleanor far from responsive. Lady
Violet's sitting room was a pretty little
room overlooking the lake and distant
woods. It was simple crammed with
knicknacks and pretty little useless
things. There were plenty of little tables
covered with china and silver boxes and
bric-a-brac. There was no such tiling
as a reasonably sized table at which
any one could write in comfort.
There was a great enamel liox
of French bonbons which w.is con-
tinually replenished, there were plenty
of magazines and novels, and a
profusion of delicately scented hothouse
flowers. Everybody became hopelessly
idle directly they entered tho room, and
they always spent the momingwith their
feet on the fender, carrying on the most
desultory conversation.
“I am. so glad Richard liked her sing
ing,” Lady Violet was saying, “for it
will help me to persuade him to stay on
here. ’ ’
“Yes,” answered Lady Eleanor, a
little drily, “Miss Wilson’s singing may
have that desired effect,”
“Why, Nell, what’s the matter? there's
no harm, surely”—•—
"No. no,” cried Lady Eleanor, quickly,
“nothing! I feel sure she is a very good
girl, it is only my folly. I thought—I
fancied—0I1, never, mind. Don't let’s
talk any more about it. Let's see this
new frix'k of yours. I can't be sure
whether I should like the silver with the
salmon color. ” And her cheeks still re
mained crimson, though she was ap
parently occupied with the consideration
of Lady Violet's wardrobe.
So Jenny came up again and again to
Reyhill place, and sang of an evening to
Mr. Feyne. He was always courteous
and kind. There were moments, so
Jenny fancied, when he entirely lost
sight of her personality, and only identi
fied her with her music, as one might
think of a bird. He said many things to
her in praise of her voice, but never made
her any mere compliments. There was,
Jenny felt, a curious relation established
between them. Unconsciously, and with
out analyzing the feeling, she looked for
ward eagerly to these evenings. The dim
hall, with its vague scent of violets, the
warmth and the luxurious lieauty of the
house, after the chilly dinginess of her
home, the sense of easy leisure after the
toiling and moiling all day brought to the
little seamstress an indefinable sense of
pleasure. Had Lady Violet been older
she would have foreseen the danger, but
such an idea never occurred to her. She
was much too busy with her own round
of enjoyment. And Mr. Feyne himself,
absorbed in the pleasure of the music,
and too chivalrous and modest to think
he was inspiring any other feeling than
that of the merest friendship, where it
was his intention to inspire nothing
warmer, never dreamed of any drawback
to liis intimacy with Miss Wilson.
There was a little woman staying at
Reyliill who always liked to have her share
in what was going on. She was a little
old spinster of good family and very small
means, who spent her life in visiting—
going from one great house to another,
playing when others danced, writing
letters for the lady of the house, going in
to dinner with tiie bore of the evening,
and jierforming a thousand little duties of
tiie kind in return for the hospitality
offered her. She was a toady and a mis
chief maker, but was so useful that she
was still a welcome guest. She liad al
ways an inexhaustible store of confidential
gossip, and could make herself very
agreeable after her own fashion. In per
son she was very tiny, with black hair,
and bright eyes' like shiny beads. She
was very anxious to ingratiate herself
with Lady Eleanor, to whom she hail
hitherto paid court in vain, and she saw
at a glance the present position of affairs.
“That foolish Richard Feyne,” she said
to herself, “will get liimself into a scrape
bv and by, and will lose all his chances
with Ladv Eleanor (a good f7,000 a year,
and that ’beautiful old place in Hamp
shire). He doesn't see what he's doing,
and a friendly word in season will put
tilings straight, and make Eleanor my
friend for life-”
So. after luncheon one day. she sidled
up to Richard, and asked him to come
into the hail to see some art needlework
she was doing for his sister. When they
were alone she began to her unsuspect
ing companion:
‘ ‘I dare say you think me very meddle
some, Mr. Feyne?”
As a matter of fact, Richard had never
thought of her at all. and now he looked
at ner startiea aha utterly unprepared ror
what was coming.
“I have known you so long, she con
tinued, “that I must give you a warning.
I know you don't see the tiling as others
do. but you really mustn't spend every
evening listening to that musical little
dressmaker. People are beginning to
talk.” she went on, inventing on the
spur of the moment, “and you don’t
know what you have put into her silly
little head—she will expect you to marry
her; and she is head and ears in love. I
assure you, if she comes up like this,
night after night, to sing to you,'there
will be all kinds of stories. No one re
spectable would employ her as dress
maker if she sets her cap at gentlemen!"
The color rose in Richard’s face to the
roots of his liair. For one moment he
was too angry to speak, and the foolish
woman, taking his silence for a sign of
consent, went on arclily: “You are
throwing away all your chances with
Lady Eleanor. Yes, yes; I know she’s
been in love with you ever since slie was
a child in the schoolroom: but you can't
expect tills kind of thing to last forever,
and one day she will get tired refusing all
tiie great people who propose to her.”
By this time Richard had recovered his
voire. “All that you have said to me is
utterly faLse and untrue!” he cried, his
voice trembling with anger. “Neither
Miss Wilson nor myself have ever enter
tained for a moment the ideas you have
been good enough to impute to us. And
if people have talked, they have simply
done so because they are malicious anil
coarse minded.”
The little woman was now frightened
at what she had done. “I'm sure I only
spoke because I wished to spare Lady
Eleanor pain: anybody could see that she
cares for you.”
Richard was beginning to deny this
story too, when suddenly he stopped.
Something within him told him that this
at least was true, though he hail never
tefore known it.
The silly woman rambled on incohe
rently, trying to excuse herself for med
dling. “Of course, it was ruining the
girl and I felt sorry for her—Miss Wilson,
I mean. A girl’s character is so quickly
questioned, and then what remains? I
couldn't boar to think of it!”
“Do you mean to say.” Richard de
manded. furious, “that Miss Wilson’s
reputation has suffered in the slightest
degree, or that she has been lowered in
the eyes of the world, by my fault?”
Ilis opponent prevaricated, hesitated,
and then finally agreed that it was so.
She was so terrified that site scarcely
knew what she was saying, and her one
idea was to eicapc from Richard, who,
erect before her, his handsome face still
handsomer with passion, and his angry
eves fixed upon her, was ready, so she
declared, “to kill her!”
“There is only one remedy,” Mr.
Feyne said, slowly; “I must ask Miss
Wilson to lie my wife. That is, it ap
pears to me, the only way to put every
thing straight;” and he strode out of tho
room, leaving the wretched creature to
recover her senses. Without asking any
body's advice, without pausing to consid
er, lie proceeded to act on his blind im
pulse. It was a pouring wet day; the
rain had been steadily falling all day and
the ground was sodden and the trees
dripping with moisture. The landscape
looked blurred and blotted, and the only
sound in the air was the regular, rhyth
mic sob of the rain. Richard passed liefore
the hall windows, wrapped in the black
Spanish cloak that Lady Violet used to
call liis “conspirator’s cloak. ” Ho heard
a tap on the _ glass, and turned round to
see Lady Eleanor, who smiled and waved
her hand to him. “I wish you joy of
your wet walk!” she cried laugh
ingly. Richard moved hastily away;
a sudden consciousness seized him
that this really was the woman he
woman
loved. He had never realized it before: - tained permission to take a short cut
now it was too late. He hurried down j across country to Kiukiang, but still with
to the little town and rang the bell at ; an escort.—Thomas Stevens’ Letter.
Jenny's hotise. The little apprentice 1
showed him up into the parlor, where I „ „ „ . „
- 1 ... ni, 1 Bow Men Die In Battle,
presentlv Jennv. with a flushed and 1 ..... -r, . — , .
startled face, made her appearance. He ! t J V * ,en w _ p S ot lnto the Brock Road m-
went up to her, regardless of his dripping trenchments, a man a few files to my
cloak that was making puddles on the j lpf dropped dead, shot just above the
threadbare carpet, and began earnestly: ' r, -? l 1 lt T' gr0! “’ 0r slgh ’ or
“I am afraid, Miss Wilson, that vou I make l ightest physical movement,
have been annoved bv these abomin.able i ojeept that lus chest heaved a few times,
reports mill scandalous stories.” He ! The life went out of his face mstanUy,
paused, talcing Jenny’s blushes for aeon- htavmg it without a particle of expres-
BICYCLIST STEVENS IN MEXICO. NEW YORK’S INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL.
Hard Roads to Travel—In the Midst of m
Dangerous Mob.
Starting from Canton on 0«t. 13, I
had expected to reach Kingkiang inside
of twenty days; but calculations based
on my experience in other countries
failed me entirely in China. I found it a
totally different country from any of the
others I have traveled, both as regards
roads, people, accommodation, and ex
perience generally. It would be little
exaggeration to say that the only roads
in south China (the north may be a Tittle
different; are the rivers, and no exagger
ation whatever to say that the only proper
way to travql is with a boat, in which
one can travel as in a house. Strictly
speaking, there are no roads at all, as we
understand the term; only narrow foot
paths, leading here, there and every
where. and yet nowlisre in particular; an
intricate mass of tracks about the rice
fields, in which a stranger finds himself
hopelessly bewildered to commence with,
and invariably lost at last.
The first day out from Canton, after
traveling, I should think, thirty miles, I
found myself in a village about thirteen
miles out. Neither are these pathways
of that asphalt like smoothness for which
an experienced cycler naturally yearns,
who sees the pleasant autumn weather
gradually gliding past, and the distance
ahead still great. On the contrary,
bowlders and rough slate of stone, once
laid level, but now more often sloping at
angles that render them precarious foot
ing for anything but a goat or a bare
footed Chinaman, are the chief charac
teristics. In addition to this they are
often not more than two feet wide, and
often rise several feet above the waving
paddy, so that traversing them is a feat
really equal to the performance of walk
ing on a wall. Under these circum
stances a person frequently thinks of
swapping his bicycle for a “pariah yaller, ”
and riddling the purp with bullets.
Ta-lio was the first city where the au-
thorites saw fit to favor me with an es
cort. They sent a couple of soldiers with
me to King-gang-foo. They evidently
knew what they were about, for I should
have fared badly had I reached King-
gang-foo alone, not knowing the direct
route to the Yamen. The soldiers be
trayed anxiety as we approached the
city; the mob collected, and. while yet
several hundred yards from the Yamen.
the stones began to come, and wild yells
for the Fan Kwaes rent the air. Missiles
that would have knocked me senseless
had I been wearing an ordinary hat only
made dents in the big pith solar topee I
had worn through India, and which
effectually protected my head and shoul
ders. I escaped' into the Y r amen with
hut a few trifling bruises and one spoke
broke out of the bicycle, but one of the
soldiers got liailly hurt on the arm—
probably a fractured bone. The soldiers
warned them that I was armed, and un
til we reached the outer Yamen gate,
they confined themselves to yelling and
throwing stones; several then rushed for
ward and seized the bicycle, but the offi
cials came to the rescue and hurried me
into the che-lisien’s office. It was pan
demonium broke loose around the Yamen
gates all the evening, the mob howling
for the “foreign devil,” the shouts of the
soldiers keeping them at bay, and the offi
cials loudly expostulating and harangu
ing them from time to time, as the din
seemed to lie increasing. Proclamations
were sent out by the che-hsien, and,
toward midnight, the mob had finally
dispersed. I was then placed aboard a
sampan, and, with a guard of six soldiers,
spirited off down stream. After this the
authorities never allowed me to travel by
bicycle, but passed me on down stream
by boat from town to town, under guard,
until we reached Wu-ching on the Poyang
IIoo. when, by much persuasion, I ob-
Practical Knowledge the Central Idea
of the Institution—A Lesson.
. The new building of the Industrial
Education association, of this city, is now
in readiness to be seen, and visitors will
be welcomed at any time.
From top to bottom the building,
which is 60 feet wide and 100 feet deep,
has been remodeled and filled with every
possible convenience for the training of
young people in half a half hundred
branches of usefulness. For the cooking
class there are facilities for teaching a
class of sixty girls at once; in the depart
ments devoted to sewing, drawing, mod
eling in clay, carpentering, kitchen
training, and all branches of domestic
service the machinery is simply superb,
and there is also a kindergarten for the
youngest children not yet old enough to
learn any practically useful work. The
central idea of the whole institution is
that the boy or girl does not obtain in the
public schools the practical knowledge
necessary to make a living: he or she
must get that more or less blunderingly
after school days are ended, with the con
sequence that the boy who would have
made an excellent plumber becomes a
bad carpenter, and the girl who would
have made a comfortable living as a type
writer is condemned to mediocrity in
some shop.
This great work to which this vener
able building is devoted is not in any
sense a charitable work, all tho lessons
given there having to be paid for, but
neither is it a money making institution,
and the charges are simply sufficient to
cover the expenses. For instance, cook
ing lessons cost ten cents a lesson, which
pays for the material used in the lesson;
the children in the kindergarten pay 50
cents a week; lessons in dressmaking,
domestic service, embroidery, may be had
at trifling cost from the best of instruct
ors. The building has been opened only
a few weeks, and although the advan
tages offered are scarcely known, pupils
are already flocking to its classes. In the
departments devoted to children the man
agers wish to impress upon parents and
the public that it is not in any sense a
charitable work, but an attempt to make
people understand that technical, manual
education is an essential factor to a boy’s
or a girl’s whole training; in other words,
it is the carrying out of the kindergarten
system beyond the kindergarten age: the
introduction of technical education in the
public schools of Boston and Chicago
proves to have been of very great value
to the children.
In some of our most noted private
schools for boys several hours a day are
now devoted to manual training, the
boys working at carpenters’ benches or
blacksmiths’ forges, and soon developing
tastes which, when cultivated, may be of
the utmost value to them a few years
from now. In the famous school found
ed by Felix Adler and supported by the
Society for Etliical Culture, of which he
is the head, half the day is devoted to
learning from books and half the day to
learning how to d the world’s work. I
have seldom heard a more interesting
lesson than I chanced to hear there one
day, cotton cloth being the subject of the
lesson. The boys were required to tel
where the cotton plant grew, how it was
picked, ginned, spun, woven and made
into garments; they knew the average
number of bales produced in this country
and in Egypt and India, and they were
made to explain upon a miniature gin
and a miniature loom exactly how the
cotton in the fields came to make the
shirts on their backs. For the purposes
of the lesson real cotton plants, with the
ripe bolls, were shown, together with
pictures of the fields, and the boy who
came out from the lecture upon cotton
cloth must have been a very dull boy in
deed if he did not understand the sub
ject.—New York Cor. Brooklyn Eagle.
THE CHURCHES OF MOSCOW.
lirmation of his words. "I am deeply
grieved,” lie went on, “that any one
should have dared to make my name the
source of any discomfort to you, but if
you wish these stories can be silenced at
once. I have come to ask you to be my
wife.”
It seemed to Jenny as if the room
reeled witli her. For one moment, anil
for one moment only, she hesitated. Ha
continued in a faltering voice: “I am
poor, as you know, but I would endeavor
to make you happy if you couiil be con
tent with the little that I can offer."
Then Jenny turned her honest eyes
towards him and looked liim full in the
face. “I have heard no slanderous re
ports. sir.” she said, with simple dignity;
“and even had I heard them I coull put
an end to them. You have done me too
much honor. I could never really suit
you. You ought to marrya lady; and,”
dropping her voice almost to a whisper,
“you don’t love me. sir; and I couldn’t
many any one who didn't. I can't thank
you enough. ( shall remember your
goodness to my dying day; but you must
excuse me. sir. and one day you will be
glad for wliat I have done.”
The tears unbidden rose to her eyes,
but. courageous to the end. she made him
a little curtsey that had, he felt, a world of
grace and dignity in it. and left the room.
So the matter ended. But three months
after, when Mr. Feyne and his bride were
spending their honeymoon in Hampshire,
they went for a long ride over the downs,
and Richard told Eleanor the whole
story. She gave a cry of surprise, and
then, putting her hand softly on his arm.
■•Ah. Richard.” she said, "don't yousee.
she loved you too well to do you any
liarm. and it was because she loved you
that she refused you?”—Annie Fcllowes,
in Leisure Hour.
Telephone Prophecy.
The prophet Lsaiah. in the fewest pos
sible words, describes the construction of
railroads:
“Every valley shall be exalted and
every mountain and liiU shall be made
low, and the crooked shall be made
straight and the rough places plain.
And the glory of the Lord shall be re
vealed. and all flesh shall see it together.”
The prophet Habakkuk in the fewest
words possible describes the telephone.
‘ -For the stone shall cry out of the wall
and the beam out of the timber shall
answer it."—Second chapter, eleventh
verse; fourteenth verse: “For the earth
shall be filled with the knowledge of the
glory of the Lord, as the waters cover
the sea.” Both of these prophesies are
located in a class of dispensations! prophe
cies, easily identified.—Cor. Hartford
Tunds. ~
sion. It was plastic, and as the facial
muscles contracted it took many shapes.
TV hen this man’s body became cold, and
his face hardened, it was horribly dis
torted, as though he had suffered in
tensely. Any person who had not seen
him killed would have said that he had
endured supreme agony liefore death re
leased him. A few minutes after he fell
another man, a little farther to the left,
fell with apparently a precisely similar
wound. He was straightened out and
lived for over an hour. He did not speak.
Simply lay on hi9 back, and his broad
chest rose and fell, slowly at first, and
then faster and faster, and more and
more feeble until he was dead. And his
face hardened, and it was almost terrify
ing in its painful distortion.
I have seen dead soldiers’ faces which
were wreathed in smiles, and heard their
comrades say that they had died happy.
I do not believe that the face of a dead
soldier, lying on a battlefield, ever truth
fully indicates the mental or physical
anguish or peacefulness of mind which he
suffered or enjoyed before his death. The
face is plastic after death, and as the
facial muscles cool and contract they
draw the face into many shapes. Some
times the dead smile, again, they stare
with glassy eyes, and lolling tongues and
dreadfully distorted visages at you. It
goes for nothing. One death was as
painless as the other.—Wilkeson’g
“Recollections of a Private.”
Gold and Paper.
A paragraph in one of the state papers
as to the relative weights of gold coin
and paper money has made a demand on
druggists for the use of their scales. It
appears that a question was raised as to
the number of $1 bills required to equal
the weight of a $0 gold piece. The
guesses ran all the way from ten to one
hundred or more, but the scales showed
that seven bills will just tip the scales
down on the side where the paper money
is placed. Tests here in Hartford give
the same results, their being a very slight
variation when new hills are used.—
Hartford Times.
What is commonly called friendship
even is only a little more honor among
rocues.—Thorean.
Change of Tactics.
It was one of the maxims of Napoleon
that an army ought to change its system
of tactics every ten years. His meaning
was, that success does not rest upon
forms, which can be copied by other
armies or generals, but upon living energy
and-intelligence, which are always cap
able of devising new combinations; and
that formalism of any kind is death to
armies, as to other institutions.
A Protest Against Cheap Rooks.
The custom of “wiring” books instead
of sewing the sheets together, was im
ported, we believe, from America, and is
there used almost universally. Even
costly scientific treatises receive this
abominable treatment. Here it is at pres
ent used chiefly for the cheap and ephem
eral literature, which perhaps it is not
unsuited for. But book buyers should
refuse to take copies of valuable books
that have been wired. All that is neces
sary to avoid receiving them is to state
when ordering copies that “wired” ones
will be refused. If the publisher declines
to supply sewn copies, the buyer should
order the work in sheets and have them
bound up by a competent bookbinder.
The extra trouble and cost will not be
wasted. It is unnecessary to explain
tho mischiefs arising from the use of
wire; they are palpable on inspection.—
London Literary World.
The Habit of Snnday Staffing.
This habit lias grown to be common in
our large cities, where men live at a dis
tance from their business places, and,
therefore, take a light lunch every day
during the week. When Sunday comes
they have leisure for breakfast, and little
exercise during the forenoon: then have
a royal dinner at 2 o’clock, and perhaps
lazy lounging and “lying off,” as it is
called, during the afternoon; they thus
eat twice as much on Sunday as they do
other days. The appetite is just as good
as it would be if they were engaged in
their ordinary occupations, but the
needs of the system are not half
great when a person is idle as when he is
actively or laboriously engaged in busi
ness, and the result is that Slonday is a
blue day to very many. It is a day of
headaches and ill feeling, and by Wednes
day, perhaps, they get back into the nor
mal track again, and by Saturday are
ready for another stuffing on Sunday.
We believe that dyspepsia in city men
originates, in nine cases out of ten. in the
practice of overeating and taking little
exercise on Sunday. — Phrenological
Journal.
The Stamp Collecting Mania.
The mania for collecting postage stamps
seems to be gaining more ground than
ever in France. Among the most famous
collectors in France is a man who has
over 1,000,000 postage stam]>s preserved
in 130 richly bound volumes, and another
who keeps two clerks employed in classi
fying and arranging his enormous col
lection. Added to this, there are in
Paris about 150 wholesale firms em
ployed in the trade, and one of the best
known of these has lately offered from
£20 to £40 for certain stamps of the year
1836. Tuscan postage stamps dated" be
fore 1860 will be paid for at the rate of
£6 each, while stamps from Mauritius for
the year 1847 fetch £80, and French
stamps of 1849 are quoted at £1 each.—
Paris Cor. London Telegraph.
Twenty-four hours after the Oregon
“Chinook,” the warm wind, reached
Fort Keogh, M. T., the mercury had
n 90 dears.
A City of Spire*, Dome*, an:! Miinretn—
Womlers of tho Kremlin.
I ::m informed that tlvre are in Mos
enw about 1,000 Greek churches. They
ire a com posit of Catholic, Moham
medan. and Oriental architecture, and
probably the most beautiful churches in
the world. When the ornate and won
derful St. Basil church was completed
the architect was asked by his master,
Ivan the Terrible, if that effort was his
very best; if, under an}* circumstances
or for any consideration with any
amount of money, he could construct a
more beautiful edifice. The reply was
that lie could not—to make a more
beautiful structure would be impossible.
Thereupon the architect's eyes were put
out that even he should not copy this
sublimely beautiful creation.
1 think that not one of those thousand
churches has less than three minarets
and domes. Most of them have five,
some have twenty-five—always an odd
number—for a grand central effect—and
some have in the neighborhood of fifty
to 100. They are colored white, green,
red, or blue, or are colored with silver
and gold. Most of them have chimes of
bells, and I presume that there are in the
city of Moscow, 8,000 bells. It was but
recently tliat I stood on the eminence—
about six miles west of the city—where
Napoleon stood that eventful day when
he first beheld those 5,000 minarets,
spires, and domes, and the Kremlin's
golden roofs glistening in the sun, and
whence he surveyed the treasurers
which he thought would soon be at his
disposal. I traversed the same road
which he took when he marched liis
500,000 men to an expected victory that
proved to be the most melancholy de
feat recorded on the pages of history.
The immense treasures of the museums
in the Kremlin liad been removed and
the sullen Muscovites applied the torch
to their own devoted homes. The sequel
is well known. Moscow has been re
built and its treasures and relics have
been returned, supplemented by the
emperor's cannons and flags and numer
ous trophies taken from the fleeing in
vaders.
To enumerate the wonders of those
Kremlin museums is impossibles To
describe any of them is to select one
jeweled crown out of many, one
diamond out of millions. Silver
and gold, malachite, lapislazuli, jasper,
rubies, diamonds, and sapphires are not
only worked into crowns, thrones, and
vestments in almost endless profusion,
but they are even formed into furniture
and make fireplaces, walls, and ceilings.
Just there is the tocsin bell which
ounded the signal jfor plying the torch to
the city. Here are the red stairs upon
which Napoleon ascended the throne of
the Romeloff kings. There is the sword
with which the Terrible Ivan beheaded
his own sons. Here the furs that once
enveloped the form of Catherine the
Noble And here again, are the tools
with which Peter the Great worked
when he built ships and empires—for it
was his knowledge of the wants of his
people that gave them the mighty im
pulse which yet jars the two continents.
Then we were shown through the
great throne-room, the silver rooms, the
old rooms, the pink rooms, the white
rooms, the blue rooms, the jasper rooms,
and the crystal rooms, and then we
wound up intricate staircases to the se-
ret trial room—still higher, to the dun-
;eon and execution room*, where voices
were stifled without remorse and where
cries could not be heard by sympathiz-
friends.
The far-famed bell exceeded my
school-day expectation as to size, anu
uot to mislead in speaking of it I tried
my measuring tape arourid it. It at first
hung—if it ever was hung—on a low
wooden frame within the Kremlin walls.
The frame was accidentally burned, and
when the bell fell to the ground a piece
seven feet in hight was broken from its
disk. I was not there when the event
occurred, blit I venture the assertion
that that bell, with a downward orifice
of twenty-six feet diameter, was not
buried in the ground, a3 historians rec
ord was the case. The bell measures
seventy-eight feet in circumference and
is, I think, about twenty feet high. I
am aware that cycloped ists give the meas
urement as sixty feet in diameter and
nineteen feet three inches as the hight.
Against this I simply set my own meas
urement. The iron clapper is about nine
feet long, and is said to weigh forty
poods, or 1,G00 pounds. I did not lift it.
The statement is, I think, quite correct.
—Demas Barnes in Brooklyn Eagle.
Size of the French Army.
France has already a larger army than
Germany, and the Germans admit that
the French have 75.000 more men in
their army than they have. The French
have 570 more guns than the Germans,
but the German cavalry is superior to
that of the French. The French army
on a peace footing amounts to a hour
500 000 men, but on a war footing it can
nail together over 2,000.000 of soldier :
who have been fully trained, 100.000
more who have been partially trained,
and over 500.000 who are untrained.
Its army on a war footing would num
ber over 4,000,000, or fully 20 per cent,
of the male population of France.—New
York Tribune.
Trick of a Travelin" Doctor.
Several months ago one of th^sc Traveling
healers of all diseases came to Dutr.it with a
great flourish of trumpets, anti i:i n days
th3 fame of his wonderful cures spr* ;:<i abroad
.and filled his rooms with crow.-lsof lame, hal
and blind. I went over one day * > see birr
lay on hands and heal. One of hi-patient?
was a young man who alleged that his right
arm h»d been useless for months. TJw great
quack rubbed it, and the patient experienced
great relief. He came again au.i again, and
in a week was completely cured. There was
another with spinal complaint, a third whe
had been deaf for ten years, and sewral others
who were almost blind. All were cured.
Some of us were amazed at these wonderful
'*ures and after the quack had worked the
•■own for what it was worth he vanished with
a wallet stuffed with bank bills.
It was only the other day that I heard
something drop. I learned then, from the
very best authority that the "do'-tor”’ employ
ed no less than twenty-one different “j>atients r
to travel with him from city to city and pass
themselves off for residents and lie “cured”
of their ailments. We are a gullible people.
The biggest frauds upon earth find a rich
crop on American soil.—M. Quad hi Detroit
Free Fress.
Sleep for the Nervous.
Every one should Jiave eight hours
deep, and pale, thin, nervous persons re
quire ten, which should be taken regu
larly in a well ventilate; 1 room.
D. B. D (EBERT! & C0,
ATLANTA, GA.
No Introductory Chat with our friends. There is no apol
ogy to offer for this, either, because this is a
BUSINESS ADVERTISEMENT!
And Don’t You Forget It !•
CLOAKS AND WRAPS!
We can openly defy the whole state *11 these goods. We have an overwhelming
stock ami will close them out at wonderfully low prices. The winter has only be-
znn. The prophets and the “goose bone” all predict eold weather ahead. Como
while we can afford to give you finely bargains. Jerseys at very “low cut” prices
-away undo what they were earlier in the season.
KNIT UNDERWEAR!
Here again we arc defiant, because nobody can touch us. Knit Underwear for
Ladies, Children and Men. We do all the business of the town in this line, and
are not afraid of being touched by factory prices. We have bought out the facto
ries and are underselling them.
LOWER YET.
On Flannels and Pant Stuff, we are ahead of the closest competitors. We have
an immense stock, and everything is down to low rock prices.
A new and extensive stock of handsome holiday goods, something useful and
something to please everybody.
Water Proofs and Repellants
For ladies’ and childrens’ suits. We know we are underselling everybody here,
and we say it boldly. Cotton Flannels, from 5c to 20c, immense bargains, and you
will not fail to sav so when vou get the Ijnods. New Wool Hosiery. New Wool
Mittens, for ladies and children NeW Silk Mufflers. New Silk Handkerchiefs,
we have them from 25 to 50c, sold last season at from50.to 75c. New Cotton and
Linen Handkerchiefs in great variety, very low.
Let everybody blow theirhorns, hut’yoti will make a mstake'if you fail tocome to
us for any of these goods. Blankets from 85c to $15.00. 10 per cent, low
er than any house in Georgia. Comforts from 50c to $8.50 and $4.00. Now these
are big values, and we won’t deceive you when you come.
DRESS GOODS.
A fearful reduction in everything we have in the way of Dress Goods.
We have a heavy stock, a superb selection, choice material, and we in
tend to surprise everybody who will come and look at them. New
Evening Silk in great variety. New Silk Cord and Buttons to match
for evening trimming. The handsomest line of Holiday Millinery ever
brought to Atlanta.
Gr
OVBS.
New Kid Gloves in all colors, 50, 65, 75, $1 and $1.50. Our $1 Gloves
are guaranteed.
TABLE L.I3VBNTS.
We will save you 25 percent, on these goods. NewRuchinga. New
Collars anti Cuffs. Big drives in bleached and unbleached Domestics
Good Prints at 3 and 3>£c. Prints at 5c, cheap at 7J£c.
SHOES.
We are ahead of our own purposes in Shoes. We run more men and
have more Shoes and sell more Shoes than any house—than any two
houses—in Atlanta. Shoes for everybody and Shoes cheap enough to
open your eyes.
1. 1 DOUGHERTY & CD.
THOMPSON BROS.
Bedroom, Parlor and Dining Room Fnrnitnre
Big Stock and Low Prices.
PAROR AND CHURCH ORGANS,
WOOD AND METALLIC BURIAL CASES
The consumption of oil men! is ntpiill;
increasing in the United States.
•p!6-lv
Orders attended to at any hour day or night,. m/T
THOMPSON BROS Newnan. tta.
g.<?. McNamara
NEMAN MARBLE AND GRANITE WORKS.
ISON & McNAMARA.
DEALERS IN
MARBLE&GRANITE
MONUMENTS. TOMBS AND HEADSTONES, TAB
LETS, CURBING, ETC.
f^“Special Designs, and Estimates for anydesired work, furnished on
• appPcation.
KEWIAN, GEORGIA.
sssssssssssss
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S | For Fifty Years the great Remedy for
S! Blood PoisonaniSMn Diseases,
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!
»*
Interesting Treatise on Elood and Skin Diseases
mailed free to all who apply. It should be
carefully read by everybody. Address
THE SWIFT SPECiiUC CO., Atlanta, Ga.
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