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PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY
—AT—
BELLTON, Ga.
By JOHN T. WILSON, Jr
Terms— sl .ou per an sum 50 cents for a'i
month.; 25 cent? forthreemonth.
Jrarties away from Bellton are requested
man “A th »h lr name * with saoh amounts ol
money a. they can pare, from 2cc. to $1
OLD LETTEIUt
by k. m.
'lls only a package of letters,
All faded and yellow with age,
But their lines I always will cherish,
luougu famine and war may wage.
a has kindly spoken
lhe words that they contain,
-And our ties—they are now broken; —
But, lernaps we will meet again.
now f° r ?’ ear ’’ I have kept them—
I hey have always been dear to my heart;
Bonirtiiuea I think i’ll destroy them
>0 memories from me’ll depart.
’Tis then I am cruelly reminded,
In alter yean to come,
That w hen 1 feel sad, ’twill made my heart
To read the old letters again.
When my course in life lias run.
And from Mother Earth hag tied.
i he friend who wrote those lines to me,
I hope will think of me when I’m dead.
OUR COUSIN JACK.
“He grows handsomer every day,” ex
claims Aunt Deborah.
“Do you think so. aunt?”
“I <lou t think anything aboutit—lam
sure he does.”
1 smile, but say nothing in answer to
my aunt's very positive assertion.
“Its very strange,” she resumes rather
sharply, for she had noticed my smile,
and it has apparently nettled her. “Its
very strange that you should have alter
ed in your opinion so much of late.”
“How altered?” I answer, coloring
up.
“Don’t pretend you do not under
stand me,” responds Aunt Deborah,
sharply.
“1 don t wish to pretend anything,” is
my reply.
“Well, Jane, we won’t have words
about it. I cannot bear disagreeables,
especially with those whom I love; but
you know quite well that was a time
when your Cousin Jack was everything
in your eyes, and I believe everything in
your heart, too, but of late you seem to
have changed towards him ’in the most
extraordinary manner imaginable.”
"1 am sure you are mistaken, Aunt
Deborah,” I answer, uerviously. “Jack
is just tile same in my eyes as he ever
was.”
“But not the same in your heart, child,
eh ?”
“Really, aunt—”
“Oh, don’t be affected or foolish, my
dear Jane; you know I cannot bear any
thing of the kind. Your Cousin Jack
was very dear to you not so many weeks
ago—aye, it is as lately as weeks only, so
you need not exclaim with astonish
ment when I suggest something of the
kind.”
“I like Jack very much, I know,” is
my reply, my eyes still attentively fixed
upon my work, and the tell-tale color
still suffusing my cheeks.
“Like him, indeed,” exclaimed Aunt
Deborah contemptuously. “You used
to love him, and you cannot truthfully
deny it.”
“I love him still, aunt, as—as—”
“Ai» what?”
“.As a brother.”
Aunt Deborah laughs outright, a
■scornful, disbelieving, and, I must own,
a most aggravating laugh.
“As a brother 1” she exclaims, echoing
my words. “Dear me! What a nice
way of putting it. As a brother!”
Then she adds more sternly:
“Do you think, Jane, you can deceive
me by that worn-out evasion; that paltry
exchange-offering which women are so
fond of proffering to the man whom they
have ceased to love, or whom they have
led to believe they loved, but in reality
have never cared about at all? you think
I have lived in this deceitful world for
five-apd-tifty-years, and am to l»o taken
in by any such rubbish as that?”
“I'm sure I don’t wish to take you in,
aunt.”
“Don't you, really? It’s very good of
you to say so, I’m sure, but if you don't
wish to take me in, it’s a pity you should
endeavor to do so palpably. ”
I rise to leave the room, but my aunt,
as I anticipated, will not part with me
on such easy terms.
“Please don’t.leave the room at pre
sent; I have more to say to you.”
I reseat myself with a subdued sigh of
impatience.
“So you don’t think your Cousin Jack
grows handsomer every day ?”
“I think he is the same in appearance
as usual,” I reply.
“But people can grow handsomer in
other things, as well as in personal ap
pearance,” responded Annt Deborah.
“Os course thev can.” sav I.
“They can grow handsome in their
actions,” observes my aunt.
“By which I suppose you mean no
ble?” I question.
“Precisely.”
There is a' slight pause, during which
I feel that my aunt has been eying me
keenly; but Ido not look up from the
work I have resumed.
“I think,” says my annt at last, “that
his conduct is most noble towards you.”
“He is always very kind,” I faltered
out.
“He is more than very kind.” says
Aunt Doborah. “He is very charitable
towards you.
“I know he is,” I answer. “The last
present he made me is—”
“Present!” screams my aunt, indig
nantly. “What on earth do vou mean
by referring to presents? What have
trumpery gifts got to do with charity?
Are you resolved to drive me mad with
vour evasions, your shallow false preten
sions? You know perfectly well what I
mean when I speak of this charity to
wards you. If he were not the most
charitable-minded young fellow in the
world, he would scorn and despise you
for your treatment of him, which is dis
graceful in the extreme.”
“I am sure—” I commence.
The North Georgian.
VOL. IV.
“Hush!” cries AnntDeborah; “I-will
not be interrupted. For months and
months, yon and you* Cousin Jack have
perfectly Understood each other. He
hns (and may Heaven help him out of
his misfortune) loved yon with nil the
strength of his generous heart for these
three years or more—in fact, from the
first dny on which he was unlucky
enough to meet you. And you, too, Weto
always partial to him front the first; and
during the last yea* by your manner,
even when in the presence of others to
my knowledge, showed him sufficient
preference to.lead him to beb’evO Voti
reciprocated his ftffettlioii. How much
further have you led him o n by woniof
mouth, I don’t pretend to know; but
doubtless you have said hundreds of
loving words to him in yottr time. But
now your ladyship suddenly takes it into
your head to show indifference for this
noble-hearted follow. I call him noble
hearted because he merits it, and not
only out of any sentimental prejudice.
He sees the change in you—if he were
not blind, he could not help seeing it. I
see the change in you; and I see what
an alteration in him that change has
made. He is not the same man. Andi,
as the only relative he has left who cares
two pins about him. wish to know what
has caused this fickleness on vour part.”
“You speak as though Cousin Jack
and I were engaged.” I answered indig
nantly. °
“And sb you were, virtually,” retorts
my aunt,
“He never asked me to be his wife,” I
answer.
‘‘ He never asked you 1” responds
Aunt Deborah with infinite scorn. “Per
haps you will have the assurance to tell
me you did not know that he loved you.
Now, look here, Miss Jane Fleming, I
have had enough of this. You* cousin,
Jack Randall, has been as dear to me as
a son for years past. Ho was my favor
ite sister's only son, and when she was
on her death-bed I promised faithfully
to do my best for her child. You are
the only daughter of my dear brother. I
promised him on his death-bed to take
charge of you. I have tried to do mv
best.”
“ You have ever been—” I commence,
my eyes filling with tears, and a pang of
remorse shooting through my heart for
ever having said a word or committed an
act that could wound Aunt Deborah's
gentle spirit.
But Aunt Deborah interrupts me.
“I don’t need any thanks,” she ex
claims; “I have only done my duty.
Answer me one question, and this pain
ful subject shall bo dropped. Do you
love anyone else? Are you fonder of
any one than you are of Jack?”
Mv color mounts to my forehead.
“No,” I reply.
My annt rises, and putting her arms
about my neck, kisses me affectionately.
“Thank Heaven for that, my dear,”
she says with much emotion.”
And so the conversation ends.
Aunt Deborah's house is situated on
the parade at Ramsgate. I have lived
with her for more than seven years, and
she has proved a mother to me in every
way. I have to-day, for the first time
in my life, told her a deliberate false
hood. I do love some one better than
Cousin Jack. This afternoon I mean to
meet him on the beach. He has asked
me to be his wife, and I have all but
consented. Ours have been clandestine
meetings. To own the truth, I spoke to
him without a formal introduction.
One afternoon, when I was alone upon
the sands, he made an excuse for speak
ing to me. He warned me of the, in
coming tide, saying he feared I might lie
surrounded. Since then our meetings
have been frequent; since then my feel
ings for Cousin Jack have grown colder
and colder.
It is afternoon, the afternoon of the
same day on which I have told Aunt
DetKirah the deliberate falsehood as to
my affections, my newly-found lover is
at my side, my handsome gay-hearted
Arthur. Soon, I trust, the day may
come when I shall be his wife; when I
shall bear the name of Stanford.
I tell him about my aunt’s lecture.
“All this kind of thing,” he saya,
“must be put a stop to, my lit tle Jane,
as soon as possible. Don’t you think it
far better that it should be so?”
“How can it be put a stop to? I ask.
“There is but oneway,” he answers,
“and to that I hardly dare hope you will
consent.”
“Tell me what it is,” I say.
“For us to elope, Jane.”
The color mounts to my cheeks, and
my breath comes quickly.
“Jane, my darling Jane,” he murmurs,
“will you fly with me to-night?”
Before we have separated I have con
sented to his proposal.
The wind is blowing briskly as he
wishes me au revoir.
“ I am just going to have a sail in my
favorite little,skiff —a farewell sail,” he
says; “and then I must return to my
hotel ami make all necessary prepara
tions.”
‘• 1 c's blowing so strongly,” I answer;
id I’m always afraid of some accident
when you go sailing in that slender
craft.”
“Never fear,” he responds gaily, “I
can swim a mile or two if need be; there’s
no danger of my coming to grief. Fare
well until to-night; to-night, darling!
and then we shall meet to part no more.”
He grasps my hand, oh, so warmly,
and then he leaves me. I watch his re
treating figure as he makes his way to
wards that portion of the beach where
he hires his sailing skiff.
Presently I see him on the bosom of
the sea, the white sail set, and the little
skiff lying over on her side—so far over
that I expect to see her capsize momen
tarily.
Farther ayd farther out to sea he sails,
away in the afternoon sun, my lover, for
whose safety I tremble.
The wind freshens every moment.
BELLTON, BANKS COUNTY, GA., MAY 19, 1881.
Others eyes, as well as mines, are di
rected towards the bold young English
man who ventures t 0... ride so daringly
Upon the treacherous ocean.
A cry goes up from those assembled
on the beach, a cry in which my voice
joins, for the white sail of my" lover’s
boat is seen to dip into the water, to he
upon the bosom of the sea; the frail craft
has been taxed too heavily, and in an
other moment it has capsized.
As that wail of agony escapes my lips
a hand is laid upon my shoulder, a hand
that is ever ready in the hour of danger
—Cousin Jack's hand.
“Don't give way,” he exclaims, “if
Heaven grants me strength I will save
-him!”
And then. J. see Jack Randall plunge
into the sea ana strike-out to the rescue.
A minute later I fall senseless among
the pebbles.
When consciousness return, I find
myself in bed. My first inquiry is:
“Have they saved him?”
“ You must not attempt to talk at pres
ent, dear,” answers Aunt Deborah, who
is watching by me.
“But I must know,” I ory excitedly,
endeavoring to rise.
At this moment the doctor appears
upon the scene.
“I must and will know if he is
saved," I shouted frantically,
“One moment, my dear, one mo
ment,” says the doctor kindly, “and you
shall have all you require—hear all you
wish to hear.”
Then a few hurriedly whispered words
are exchanged between Aunt Deborah
and him, and she hastily leaves the
room.
“You have been very ill, my dear,”
says the doctor, taking my hand; “but
I’m thankful to say, if you will only
keep quite calm and quiet, you will soon
bo perfectly well. You have been in bed
ten days, you know.”
“Ten days!” I exclaim with extreme
astonishment. It doesn't seem ten hours
tome. But” flying off to the old topic—
“l must and will know where he is—he,
Arthur Stanford, whom I love.”
I broke down in a wail of agony.
“Oli, don't hide anything from me,”
I sob. “I am prepared to hear the worst;
I expect to hear the worst ; only bo can
did with me, and I will do anything you
please.”
The doctor puts his finger on my
pulse.
“Yon know, my dear, that accidents
will happen to the best of us.”
“He is dead," I cried; “I know by
your face that he is dead.”
As the words pass my lips the door
opens, and Aunt Deborah re-enters fol
lowed by Cousin Jack.
“Cjusin Jack,” I cry, holding out my
arms towards him; “I know you will tell
mo the truth; you who never lie, who
never deceive anyone.”
Cousin Jack has my hands—how thin
and transparent they have become—in
his. almost before I have concluded
speaking. And then, the doctor and
Aunt Deborah having withdrawn, ho
tolls me the appalling truth. He tells me
how he swam out to the scene of the
disaster, but ere he reached it Arthur
Stanford was drowned. They recovered
the body next day. And then, very
gently, jack tells me who he was, and I
knew that Heaven had been merciful in
taking him. The man who had so in
fatuated me and with whom I was pre
pared to fly, was one of the most daring
forgers that ever infested the metropolis.
Tiie papers found among his tilings
proved tliis.
The name of Arthur Stanford was an
alias.
******
Throe years have gone by since what I
have recorded took place. Perhaps
many people will say jack Randall was
a soft-hearted idiot to have anything
more to do with one who had treated him
as badly as I had done; but his motto
is. that “To err is human: to foreive di
vine.” And I, as his cherished wife, can
honorably assert I never loved any one
half or a quarter as much as I love my
Cousin Jack.
How Spring Crops Often Fail.
Tn spring, usually when plowed, the
soil is moist from winter rains and snows,
and therefore compacts more readily
than in the fall. But it is well known
ihat oats and barley rarely do well on
sod ground, especially if old and tough.
Why? There is strength enough in the
soil, but it is apt to become very dry
about the time the grain is heading out,
often before. The so l is too stiff to pack
solid, and the roots of grain encounter
places where there is a vacancy between
the particles of earth. In hoed crops we
remedy this by frequent cultivation.’ It
is this which makes the magical result
from the use of the cultivator, but di
rectly under the hill no implement will
reach. Unless the soil has become thor
oughly compacted before planting, it
will be hard work to do it afterwards.
An intelligent farmer remarked the
other day that the coarse manure he
drew on his potato ground and plowed
under last April had absolutely dam
aged the crop. The sod was heavy, and
the coarse manure had lain underneath,
preventing either from rotting. In dig
ging into some of the poorest hills of
potatoes, he invariably found a hollow
space beneath the hill, and unrotted ma
nure or sod. On a portion of the field
he had used a pulverizer and roller, and
there the crop was much better and the
weakly hills very few. He would have
pulverized the entire field, hut a heavy
rain came on when it was half-finished,
and he relied on that to compact the
soil, but it had not done it effectually.—
Country Gentleman.
Taste and smell are chemical, touch is
mechanical, hearing and seeing are
ethereal, the ear is emotion and the eye
intellectual.— Tyndall.
NEWS GLEANINGS.
At the Norfolk navy-yard five war
shipi are repairing. ■ • .
The Savannah News regards tea cult
ure in Georgia as an assured success.
The lAesburg (Fla.) Advance learns
that a wooden railway will be built from
Leesbu’g to Lake Harris and Griffin for
the transportation of goods.
The Sugar Planter reports that sev
eral planters in West Baton Rouge, La.,
are to give the sorgum cane a fair trial
this season, and if results are satisfac
tory to plant extensively another year.
The Columbus (Ga.) Enquirer-Sun
says that the woods are alive with lo
custs around Griffin. They are of the
same kind as those there fourteen year*
ago, and farmers fear for their wheat
crop.
The rectar at St. John’s Episcopal
church at Montgomery, Ala., has bap
tized 502 persons in twelve years. The
amount of money contributed by the
parish for all purposes during the past
twelve years, including the support of
the church, is $109,778.
There is a peach tree, njw growing
in Jasper county, Ga., on the plantation
of B. R. Ezell, near Triekson, the seed
of which was planted by Mr. Ezell’s
father in 1809. The tree was transplant
ed in 1811, It is now growing fruit, the
Macon (Ga.) Telegraph reports. Mr.
Ezell is now in his eighty-second year.
The Raleigh (N. C.) News Observer
reports that Governor Jarvis, Lieutenant
Governor Robinson, and others, who re
cently visited the eastern part of the
State, saw two fish hauls at Mr. Cape
hart’s fishery at Avoca, one of 170,000
herring in the morning, and another of
125,000 in the evening. The warp of
tho sein was 2,500 yards in length, and
it was hauled in by steam.
One of the most remarkable instances
of self-f.ilcri.ficc and per everance is
that of the Beal street colored Baptist
church at Memphis, which, out of the
very small daily earnings of its poor
members, has contributed since 1865
$37,000 to buy ground and build and
pay for its fine church edifice. About
SIO,OOO more is requisite to complete
the interior of the upper part of the
building.
The Mayor and board of aldermen
have revoked and canceled every license
to sell wines, spirituous or malt liquors
or any intoxicating liquars within the
limits of the city of Charlotte, N. C.
The keeping of such beverages for sale
is declared a nuisance, and in this
declaration brandied fruits and alco
holic liquors are included.
Mississippi has a total population of
1,131,592, of which 479,371 are white
and 652,221 are colored. There are
seventy-four counties in the State, of
which thirty-eight contain more colored
than white population, and thirty-six
more white than colored. The colored
majority is 172,850. In Issaquena
county the whites number 824 and the
colored persons
county the whites number 3,474 and the
colored persons 21,891.
Contracts have been made by the Lo
cal Board of Swamp Land Commission
ers for the parishes of Lafourche and
Terrabonne, for the construction of two
canals, to be completed within one year.
•The New Orleans States says that this
will open to cultivation or other useful
purposes and render conveniently acces
sible a large area of heretofore useless
lands within easy distance from New
Orleans.
.Spartanburg, S. C., news in Charles
ton News and Courier: The longest
cotton row in the county, or in the
State, perhaps, was laid off by Mr. E.
B. Huff, who works land of J. H. Mont
gomery, Esq., two miles north of town.
It is 90,760 yards long ; and the rows
being three and a half feet wide, this
row contains a fraction over two and
one-third acres. Its length is a little
mote than five and a half miles. It
would require about six hours to run
round this one row of cotton.
The Bullock (Ga.)Banner hears of a
man who is taking his all on cotton. He
has waved the homestead, and is giving
I mortgages on all that he has on the in
coming crop, in order to get guano, corn
and meat. The Banner asks: “Sup
pose the cotton crop this year is a short
one, or that it is a large one, but the
prices low and the mortgage and home
stead waving notes can not be paid,
what will become of his home and
farm ?”
The New Orleans Picayune says that
there has been a marked change in the
drift of cotton this season, and the ten
dency has been southward. The crop
has been augmented over eleven per
cent., yet the quantity of cotton carried
overland has decreased nearly 100,000
bales from the figures of last year to
corresponding date. The principal de
crease in this direction has been at St.
Louis, where there has been 90,000 bales
less cotton handled than last year. The
shipments through Louisville have also
fallen oft’so,ooo bales.
Speaking of the eighth anniversary
next Monday of the settlement of the
Alabama town of Cullman, the Mont
gomery Advertiser and Mail says:
Eight years ago the town of Cullman
was a wilderness ; it has now something
less, than 2,000 people, and the region
all round is settled by industrious and
thrifty farmers. They are mostly Ger
man, and such has been the success of
the pioneers that there are now almost
daily additions to the settlements, in
duced by the reports that have gone
from the pleasant homes of the settlers.
They by no means devote their well
tilled lands exclusively to the culture
of the great Southern staple or to grain.
They are growing small fruits and veg
etables with gratifying success.
The Palatka (Fla.) Herald states that
Mr. W. P. Wright has bought another
slice of Drayton island, 300 acres. Be
fore the last purchase be owned a good
part of the west side ol the island. Mr,
W. has been in Florida for twelve years,
and was the first who introduced into
this section the business of market gar
dening. For the past ten years he has
cultivated vegetables for the Northern
market. He has had as high as fifteen
acres in cucumbers in one season. This
year he cultivated over ten acres to cab
bage alone. It may be said in his ease,
at least, that he has ascertained the pos
itive reality of the vegetable industry,
and his testimony is favorable. The ad
ditional 300 acres just purchased by
him is for vegetable growing. It is a
piece of low, rich prairie, which, in or
der to render tillable, he is now diking
and draining.
It is stated by the Sandford (Fla.)
Journal that General Sandford has
merged his large interests there and in
Middle Florida in an English company,
composed of business men and capital
ists of high standing in England and
Scotland, and called the Florida Land
and Colonization Company (limited), of
which he is president. The object of
the company is to continue the import
ant work of improvement and coloniza
tion commenced by him eleven years
ago, and to extend it over a larger terri
tory with the larger means now afforded.
Sanford will naturally be the headquar
ters of the company, which started with
a capital of $1,250,000. It is already
proposed to increase it to $5,090,000 in
order to carry out the various plans and
projects on hand. Until a charter is
obtained the business will be carried on
under the direction of Gen. Sanford.
Take Me to* Me Mil!
“It is a great thing to see the spirit
ual truth that all nature symbolizes,”
said she.
“So it is,” said he.
“And yet enjoyment is darkened by
a teirible shadow,” said she.
“Hay?” he inquired. ’
“A terrible shadow,” she repeated,
“that casts a depressing reflection upon
the most exuberant soul.”
“Yes,” he replied. “I’ve felt it when
I’ve been short on spare ribs.”
“On what?” she anxiously inquired.
“On spare ribs.”
“But you should be philosophical—
you should imitate Pythagoras.”
“Who was he?”
“He was a philosopher, an anti-epi
curean, but he did not go so far as the
Stoics.”
“Where did they go?” asked tho
Board of Trade man; and gazing at him
in amazement, his wild Western way
began to dawn upon the culchawed
mind of the Boston girl, and she said:
“Take me to mo ma.”— New York
Con mere ial Advert iser.
Professor Stockbridge before the
State Board of Agriculture of Connecti
cut: “The soil is best plowed when it
is most thoroughly crushed, twisted and
broken, with the sori well covered. On
tome kinds of land I would have fur
rows lapped an inch, as the Canadian
farmers plow. Let the air and water
have a chance to circulate underneath
the surface. Light lands, however,
should have a flat furrow if we wish to
make such lands more compact.”
A Boston girl, in a moment of dreamy
inspiration, the other day, murmured:
“Why is it that two souls, mated in the
impenetrable mystery of their nativity,
float by each other on the ocean currents
of existence without being instinctively
drawn together, blended, and beautified
in the ’assimilative alembic of eternal
love?” And then she mechanically pushed
her plate over for another filling of
i beaus and a slug of pork.
Published Every Thursday at
BELLTON, GEORGIA.
RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION.
One year (52 numbers), $1.00; six moath*
numbers) 50 cents; three months (IS
numbers), 25 cent*.
Office in the Cirter building, west of th
depot.
ftO. 20
Corn too Thick.
One summer we had a side hill on
which we planted corn—the Chester
County Mammoth—and it was in its
growth very rank. The hired man. who
was told to pull out all unhealthy stalks
and leave not more than at the least
three to the hill, did not pull any at all,
but got drunk. The field was very
beautiful, but practical men came to us
and said that it was very nice and
picturesque, but that it was like a hem
lock forest- too shady. The truth is,
the hills had been pretty heavily and
hotly fertilized through the drunkenness
of the aforesaid man, and the shades
made by the stalks kept the ground cool
in the drought. The result was a hand
some crop of corn at a time when corn
had been burned up by the sun. We
would not like to recommend this plan
to anybody, because we tbiuk it is a
very bad one, but we relate it as a mat
ter of illustration for some of the
agricultural smarties. — New York Herald.
The pr ductiveness of the apple,
pear, peach, and p urn trees, and of
gooseberry and currant bushes, etc , may
be increased and the size of the fruit con
siderably enlarged by pruning—that is,
by shortening in the shoots of. the last
year’s growth, leading only spurs a few
inches in length. Failures in tree
planting too often arise from the mis
taken notion that when the roots of a
tree are once in the ground, the work is
done. After a tree s carefully planted
it should be mulched with leaves, straw,
tan, or any similar material, not so
thick as to exclude the air, but suffi
cient to retain the moi ture in the soil;
for although there may be plenty of rain
early in ths season, the chances are
that a drought mure or less severe will
follow.
A. Smick, Decatur, 111., sends the fol
lowing cure for “chicken cholera” to
the I'airier's Review, saying that it “has
cured when all others have failed.” “I
send you a receipe for the cure of
cholera in fowls, which I have tried
with wonderful success: One half tea
spoonful of ground black pepper, one
half teaspoonful gunpowder, one-half
tea poonful soda, one-half teaspoonful
sulphur, fifteen drops laudanum orsame
of coal oil; mix thoroughly with a little
flour and water. Give to the fowl by
putting down its throat. Dose—one
teaspoonful twice a day till cured ”
The daughter of Mr. Proddy, of
Twelfth street, has returned to her fath
er’s house from a visit East, and ohi how
many fond and foolish boys re joice over
that Proddy gal’s return — Kansas City
Times.
[Port Huron Cominerc’al.J
Charles Nelson. Esq., Proprietor Nel
son House, speaking to uh recently ob
served : I suffered so much with Rheu
matism that my arm withered, and phy
sicians could not help me. I was in
despair of my life, when some one ad
vised me to use St. Jacobs Oil. I did
so, and as if by magic, I was instantly
relieved, and, by the continued use of
the Oil, entirely cured. I thank heaven
for having used this wonderful remedy,
for it saved ray life. It also cured my
wife.
According to a correspondent of the
Rural World, the income from Kansas
apple orchards during the last twenty
years would have been quadruped, if a
dozen, instead of one hundred varieties
had been planted Early Harvest, Red
Astrachan and Red June for summer;
Maiden's Blush and Jonathan for au
tumn, and Winesap, Ben Davis, Rawle’s
Janet, Missouri Pippin for winter are
pronounced the best. Willow Twig,
White Winter Pearm, in, Gilpin, Grime’s
Golden and Baldwin, had done moder
ately well.
[Fort Wayne (Ind.) Sentinel.]
When about twelve years old, said
Mr. Geisman, of the Globe Chop House,
to our representative, 1 met with an ac
cident with a horse, by which my skull
was fractured, and ever since I have suf
fered with the most excruciating rheu
matic pains. Os late I applied St.
Jacobs Oil, which has given me almost
total relief.
a WOMAN, who has accepted life as a
fluty, says in her maturity: “Life is now
u very serious thing to mo. The com
plexities are so multiform. The intricate
meshes of our related life, which bring
to us our greatest pains and joys, give me
pause. I stand mentally excited, be
wildered, awed, reflecting on its issues.
Ordinary things and events dwindle be
fore this sweep of thought and feeling. ”
“I don’t want that Stuff,”
Is what a lady of Boston said to her
husband when he brought home some
medicine to cure her of sick headache
and neuralgia which had marie her so
miserable for fourteen years. At the
first attack thereafter, it was adminis
tered to her with such good results, that
she continued its use until cured, and
made sc, enthusiastic in its praise, that
she induced twenty-two of the best fam
ilies in her circle to adopt it as their
regular family medicine. That “stuff”
is Hop Bitters. —Standard.
They were discussing a very selfish
man, and some one, undertaking his de
fense, remarked : “Oh, but you know
he has so many enemies.” “He an en
emy?” was the reply; “how could he
have one ? He never rendered a service
to anv one but himself."
IT Any Beader
feel* tired, ha* a severe headache or lack of ap
petite, it means that something is the matter
with the kidneys, which Warner s Bate Kidney
ud Liver Cure alone can help.