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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.