The Sunday gazette. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1878-18??, October 06, 1878, Image 3

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ike toette. ATLTNTA, GA., SUNDAY, OCT. 13, 1878 ATLANTA’S GROWTH. NEW AND.THICKENING EVIDENCES OF PROSPERITY. New Enterprises and New Houses—The Strengthening of Old Inter its—The Steady and Rapid Progress of our City Toward her DesSny. Under the above head we shall each week present a hasty resume of the various grow ing interests of the city of Atlanta. Few of our people appreciate the rapid growth that we are making. Amid the bustle and hurry of our great thoroughfares many points of expansion are missed, and of the important movements go unher- We shall endeavor, by noting all pri jgKate and public improvements, all enterprises Hand ventures, to make this column an expo nent of the growth of Atlanta. We will at least give some idea of the vast and ceaseless activity of the great metropolis we love so well. PLUCK WILL TELL, The Business of Mr. A. A. Campbell, Commission Merchant. We doubt if the history of Atlanta will show a more remarkable growth of business j than is furnished below. Mr. A. A. Campbell, who is well known to our people, a short time since was involved in unlucky mining speculations, and lost a large amount of money. He had only a few dollars in money left. Nothing daunted, how ever, he determined to start afresh. He opened a little oflice, and determined to do a commission business, soliciting butter, eggs and chickens as the articles in which he would deal. These articles look trifling, but he believed that he could build up A LARGE AND PROSPEROUS TRADE in them. He therefore opened business with almost iro capital, and solicited consignments. The firsCrsonth, he sold SSOO worth of goods; the second month, this was nearly doubled, and the business increased rapidly. Last month he sold nearly $3,000 worth of goods, and hopes to push his sales up to $4,000 this month or next. There is hardly any limit to the business that may be done in these three articles. To quote his own words, he says: “ 1 had but a few dollars to commence with. I wrote to some of my friends in Tennessee, stating my plans and soliciting consignments. On the 15th of March I received some con signments and went to selling. During the remainder of March I received and sold $235.- 25 worth for cash; in April, $566.64; May, $950.20; June, $1,246.37. Up to that time I sold at wholesale and retail. Since then I have sold only at wholesale, to retail mer chants aud hotels. In July, I sold $1,796.37 worth; August, $1,892.26; September,s2,6s3,- 44. All these sales were cash —not in ac counts yet to be collected.” Mr. Campbell has been remarkably success ful in all his transactions since he began. He has sold dressed poultry all the summer, and has only lost two lots; a record unequaled in Atlanta. He makes the promptest returns ever known to consignees, and keeps every thing ship-shape. He overlooks all details of the business himself, and is thus certain that it is done right. He is very popular with buyers, and has a large circle of customers. Nearly everything that is consigned to him is at once, and remittances made to the It gives us pleasure to commend such man liness and pluck as Mr. Campbell has shown. We honor him and Atlanta honors him for having had the nerve to start anew to busi ness with his pittance of money. He has built up a trade that is remunerative; but better than all, he has built up a sentiment of respect and sympathy among the business men of the city. With such a spirit as this in all the men who are unfortunate in business, we should hear less of hard times. Shippers will find their goods placed in ca pable, popular and honest hands, if they 7 will consign to Mr. Campbell. THE BENEVOLENT HOME How It Is Going to Finish Paying for Its Home. There are few of our readers who have not watched with pleasure and pride the growth of the Benevolent Home. Started a few years ago without a dollar of money, it entered at once upon its mission by taking several unfortunates under its charge. From the first day until now it has given a comfortable home, tender attention and proper delicacies to dozens of sick and impoverished people. It has taken young orphan boys from the gutter, and given them such a start in life that they have become use ful citizens. It has reserved over a hundred helpless girls from the cold charity of the world, and given them good homes, with re spectable families. It has been an asylum for the distressed —a shelter for the homeless —a blessing to the hungry. BUYING A HOME. About one year ago its managers deter mined to buy a home for it. The annual rent it was paying was onerous and oppres sive. They managed to get together about $2,000. With this cash, they bought from Mr. W. L. Calhoun the roomy and comfortable house in which they are now situated. They paid $2,000 in cash, and gave their note for $2,700. This note is due on the Ist of next May. There is only about S3OO in the treasury to wards meeting it. It is therefore necessary to raise the balance. A list of persons who subscribe $1 a month each, raised by Mrs. W. H. Peck, has yielded over SIOD, and will yield about S2OO more. The balance over $2,000 must be raised by work. A GOOD SCHEME. The ladies, with Mrs. Tuller at the head, and all the beneficent workers interested, have secured the privilege of selling luncheon to the crowds at the coming North Georgia Fair. They guarantee to sell lunch or dinner at as low prices as it can be bought anywhere. Most of the provisions used by them will be and they must be disposed of. Let ■Jvery visitor at the Fair remember this and patronize the ladies. They hope to make s'-,000. and they should succeed in doing it. SLUMBER EVADES HER. From the Burlington Hawkeye. “Ethel Vane” sends us a poem, “Why Does Sweet Slumber Shun My Eyes?” Why? Sit down here, Ether, where we can tickle your rosy ear with the waxed end of a short moustache, while we whisper to you that when a girl scarcely nineteen years old eats an eight-o’clock supper of cold tongue, broiled steak, salt mackerel, fried potatoes, dough nuts, cold apple pie, fried eggs, fresh peaches, a slice of watermelon and two cups of coffee, horrified slumber will pack’ its trunk and climb on to the first train that will take it farthest away, and all the poetry in the Bap tist College won’t bring it back to you for a week. Don’t ask any more such conundrums, Ethel; these are stirring, earnest times, that thrill with peril and impending danger, and our lair is tuned to loftier strains. Mrs. Austin, of Washington. D. C., has given birth to forty-four children, and has never had . anything less than twins. She finds the cate of them a little ex-Austin, but she’s proud of them. FASHION’S FOLLIES. THE LATEST ADVICES FROM THE NEW YORK AND PARIS MODISTES. A Lot of Things about Silks. Stockings, and Lingerie that Comes from a High Authority. From our own Correspondent. New York, October 6. We are settling down into an era of severe plainness in dress, varied by the exaggerations of the latest fancy for plaids which, however, is already on the wane. Costumes of that material, price twelve dollars; have made their appearance in the cheap stores, and hence forward the reign of plaids is destined to a speedy termination. The suits for ladies are chiefly remarkable for their perfect fit and severe simplicity of outline. Kilt-plaited skirts, with long cuirass waists, are extremely fashionable. The skirt is laid in plaits from the hem to the hips, where it is met by the deep, tight-fitting cui rass. These waists-will be replaced by half fitting jackets for winter wear. In cloth, or | any other heavy material, no lining is used j for the plaiting, the material being simply I pressed into fold and retained in place by • stitching a braid above the hem. MATERIALS. It might be safely asserted, that all of the i new goods that are not called “ suitings” are ’ shown to customers as “ coatings; ’’ conse quently, both names being so entirely gen eral, are not in the least descriptive, as widely different things are included in each classifi cation. Plaids, which are very popular both i for ladies’ and childrens’ dresses, are not con fined to any particular material, but are found in silk, woolen, and cotton dress goods. The startlingly showy plaids, of vivid colors and inharmonious combinations, that were worn many years ago, are here again, but do not meet with the favor that is given to plaids with the pleasing soft effects rendered by grave or dark colors. Among such are the self-colored plaids, which are happy blendings of large, irregular plaids in many shades of gray, brown, or prune color, as well as the warm, rich mixture of one or two shades of very dark red, sobered by proximity with black; and the tartans, where the dark blues and greens are illuminated by narrow lines of scarlet or gold color intersecting each other at rather remote intervals. Quite heavy cloth is woven in these plaids, but the colors and combinations are nearly as effective in cam el’s hair and merino, or any good quality of all-wool goods. At much lower prices, a greater variety of plaids aud checks are shown in a mixture of cotton and wool, not unlike delaine, and in alpaca or lustre; of the two the latter is most deserving of recommenda tion as being the more durable. Taffeta cloth is an all-wool material slightly resembling Biarritz cloth, but differing suffi ciently to admit of its coming under the head of novelties. New basket cloths look as if woven of zephyr wool,-with short cross lines, or stitches of floss silk, which light it up effect ively. A curious fabric which has the advan tage of being entirely new, and which does not seem to be favored with any particular name, has a ground of soft wool, with raised figures, which have almost the appearance of being felted on. Brocade silks are still fashionable, notwith standing the attempts to revive moire antique and ■watered silks. Black and dark-colored silks, with seeded or bird’s-eye grounds, have small set figures, or flowers in brilliant col ors, at regular distances. STYLES OF MAKING AND TRIMMING DRESSES. Yoke waists are still worn by young ladies, particularly by those who are tall and slen der. A fashion that may not recommend it self to everybody is the caprice for making the basque of a different material from the rest of the dress. The fabric employed for the waist should be the richer of the two, and it is not necessary to have it correspond with the trimming of the dress. Gathered and puffed plastrons are still seen upon many dresses, not only the long centre one, but an other upon each side of it. Embroidered plastrons, in this and other forms, are also used upon visiting, dinner and evening dresses. The liking for short street dresses is far from declining, and most of the imported walking costumes this autumn are short, although all do not have the kilted skirt which was iden tified with them in the summer; neither do they all have the cut-away jacket and vest that was considered indispensable; but the waist may be a basque or plaited blouse, ac cording to the taste of the wearer. The over skirt, in either case, may have the lacand ere or washer-woman front; with wide, straight breadths in the back supplied by the long, perpendicular plaits in the underskirt. Side plaitings are very much used, and two deep ruffles of inch-wide side-plaiting upon a short skirt, are by many ladies preferred to the en’ tire kilted skirts. Upon plaids, especially if the colors are not at all striking, it is very good taste to put side-plaitings on a plain color, matching some of the bars in the plaid. The drapery of polonaises and overskirts is higher up and more bouffant, and some new ly-imported dresses are regular pannier puffs, or arrangements of loopings and large bows, which produce very much the same result in outline. Flat trimmings are much used, and bias folds of velvet and satin among the most popular. Striped velvet, for vests, square collars, cuffs, and folds, is used upon the silk costumes. A stylish black silk carriage dress, recently imported, has a vest of black and gold striped velvet, and is trimmed with bands of black velvet, embroidered with tiny sun flower (the French are employing sunflowers in decoration just now), and finished with a scallop upon the lower edge and a nar row band of striped velvet upon the upper. The band edges the tunic, which separates at the back in shawl points which fall over the train, showing between them a wide bow of silk lined with striped velvet. Upon the bot tom of the train are two very fine and full plisses of the silk, each with a bias fold of the black and gold striped velvet. The basque is made with an elongation of the two centre back seams, to form long loops, which are corded with the striped velvet. It may be truly- said that the taste of the time inclines to color; there is now but little of the monotone in the costumes, and even black dresses are relieved from the sombre effect by red, gold and blue tatin sparingly' mingled with the black ribbon bows. WRAPS. Even with the short dresses an independent wrap is preferred to one matching the dress. The mantillas of serge, cashmere and Sicil ienne that were popular in the spring will not be rejected for autumn. Sacques of various kinds will be much worn. These, to suit the abbreviated skirts, must be shorter than the long sacques of last year. For winter they’ may have more elaborate decorations, but those of thin cloths, intended for the present season, are very plain and masculine in cut and finish. Tweeds, cheviots, caslimerettes, diagonals, small checks, and all varieties of fancy cloths are chosen for these jackets. As* a foretaste of what we may- expect in the future, fur dealers are exhibiting regal-looking dolmas of extra size, made of dark, rich seal skin of surpassing quality. MILLINERY. The early wholesale openings give such a variety that, knowing from past experience that all will not meet with equal favor, one finds it difficult to know which to recommend. The imported pattern hats, which are en dorsed with the makers’ names, that give the stamp of elegance, may, however, be safely taken as models. The shapes are mostly close at the sides, and with large square or else Normandy crowns. The Josephine, or THE GAZETTE, SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 13, 1878. first rapire bonnets, are still among the im portations, and in white plush or satin, with white feathers for trimming, are very elegant, particularly so for brides. Striped velvets and plushes, plain velvets and satin, and an abundance of ribbon, form the trimming of small bonnets, in connection with feathers of all kinds, foliage and flowers. Red and sev eral shades of gold-color, olive, garnet, blue and bronze are among the leading colors. Red is so popular, and there are so many shades of it, that it continues to get itself as sociated with almost everything else in milli nery. Following out this idea, garnet bars and slides, or steel ornaments in which gar nets are set, are used upon handsome hats- Bars of rolled gold, of silver and of jet are also used. Bonnets, made all of velvet leaves, like the floral hats of the summer, are very stylish. Not less so are some which are com posed entirely- of feathers. Felt and velvet bonnets and round hats have the trimmings put on in flat and compact style, except at the front, where flowers or feathers are massed, or the space is occupied by a large Alsatian bow. STOCKINGS, LINGERIE AND FANS. Stockings have followed the rage of the day for plaids, and plaided silk stockings are now. extensively shown in all possible combina tions of color. Shoes are largely made in the Voltaire style, a fashion which threatens to j supercede slippers altogether. In lingerie, ■ lovely Louis XVI., or rather Marie Antoinette, fichus are to be much worn in folds of soft, semi-transparent muslin, trimmed with Mechlin lace and with bows of pale blue or 5 pink ribbon. Chemises are uow made to fit l as closely as a glove, and have as many gores in them as a fashionable dress waist. They I are trimmed with Torchon lace and insertion | around the shoulders, sleeves and hem. Well I made and fitted, they cost from nine to twelve j dollars each. Petticoats are made with one | deep gathered flounce, trimmed with Torchon lace and insertion. In gloves for ladies’ wear there is no change to be noted. For gentle men’s use for visiting or driving, gloves of deep yellow kid of the Mousquetaire style that is to say- without buttons, but not worn very long in the wrist, are considered very stylish. In decorating fans for elemi-toilette a dash ing and sketchy- style is adopted which is very effective. Thus a king-fisher, boldly- painted on pale blue satin, with his head and beka encroaching on the ebony- sticks, is shown, and also a cluster of very- large red poppies in black silk, the design also being continued down the sticks. These fans are not expen sive and are very handsome. For young girls’ wear, fans of white silk and ivory-, painted very finely by- hand with clusters of roses, for get-me-nots and jessamine, are elegant and appropriate. M. C. H. LIGHT MELANGE. SCRAPS WORTH READING FROM HERE AND THERE x Beauties in Prose and Poetry—From OLD Writers and New—Bright Bits of Pen-work Strung Together at Random. Montague’s love. Olive Logan, who is always interested in love stories, has probably invented this one concerning young Montague, who was adver tised to appear in “ Diplomacy ” at McVick er’s in this city early in the season, but the arrangement was prevented by- his sudden death. In a letter to a San Francisco paper she says: “At his very earliest appearance here he was seen and loved by a charming English girl. The opportunity for a meeting was found as quickly by- her as by her love-eraftv prede cessor in the tale of Verona. But there were greater impediments in the way- of marriage between this new Romeo and this new Juliet than a mere family- dispute. Montague was not only- poor in purse, but in social standing —well, he was on the stage; with some peo ple that was enough. The lady, on the other hand, was rich and noble, the daughter of one of the proudest Earls that treads ancestral acres in England. To broach the subject of marriage to her haughty- parents, her young ladyship knew would be madness. So, sadly-, but not despairingly, the lovers concluded to separate, “ Monty” to go fill his engagements in America until such time as he required to amass a certain amount of money, when he was to return to England, ostensibly- only- to see his mother, and after his visit terminated a certain person would be found at Liverpool waiting for him, and they were to return to America together. Several suitors have pre sented themselves during the time Montague was in America, but as the lady is still “o’er young to marry- yet,” her refusal of their offers has not excited much surprise; but the other day- at a country- house, when a large company had gathered in the drawing-room, waiting to go in to dinner, an officer of the Coldstream Guard, who had arrived from London in the afternoon, told the party he had heard at the clubs the night before that young Montague, who used to play the lovers at the Prince of Wales, you know, was dead. A blanched cheek, a low moan, a girl faint ing in the arms of the hostess, who entered the door just in time to catch her before she fell, told the story of love and hope deferred, now never to be rekindled.” mother’s vacant chair. I go a little farther on in your house, and I find a mciher’s chair. It was very apt to be a rocking chair. She has so many cares and troubles to soothe that it must have rockers. I remember it well. It was an old chair, and the rockers were almost worn out; for I was the youngest, and the chair had rocked the whole family. It made a creaking noise as it moved, but there was music in the sound. It was just high enough to allow us children to put our heads in her lap. That was the bank where we deposited all our hurts and worries. Uh, what a chair that was I It was entirely different from, the father's chair —entirely dif ferent. May- you ask me how ? I cannot tell, but we all feltit wasdifferent. Perhaps there was about this chair more gentleness, more tenderness, more grief when we had done wrong. When we were wayward father scolded, but mother cried. It was a very wakeful chair. In the sick days of children, other chairs could not keep awake; that chair always kept awake —-kept awake easily. That chair knew all the old lullabies, and all those worldless songs which mothers sing to their sick children —songs in which all pity and compassion and sympathetic influence are combined. That old chair has stopped rocking for a good many- years. It may be set up in the loft or the garret, but it holds a queenly power yet. When at midnight you went into that shop to get the intoxicating draught, did you not hear a voice that said, “My son, why- go in there ?” And when you went into the house of sin, a voice saying. “What would your riiother do if she knew you were here ?” and you were provoked at yourself, and you charge yourself with super stition and fanaticism, and you went to bed, and no sooner had you touched the bed than > a voice said, “What a prayerless pillow ! Man! *vhat is the matter ? This —you are too near your mother’s rocking chair!” “O, pshaw!” you say, “there’s nothing in that. I’m 5,000 miles away from where I was born. I’m 3,000 miles off from the Scotch kirk whose bell was the first music I ever heard.” I cannot help that. You are too near your mother’s rocking chair. “O,” you say, "there can’t be anything in‘that.” It is omnipotent, that mother’s vacant chair. It whispers ; it speaks ; it weeps ; it carols ; it mourns ; it prays ; it yearns; it thunders. Honor and fame from no condition powder rise. Act well your part, and mash the wan ing summer flies. — Elmira Advertiser. “CRACKED TUMBLER. ” THE STRANGEST OF STRANGE STORIES. A Problem That Is Beyond Solving—And-for Which Each Reade: will Have His Own Opinion. CHAPTER I. “ Then, my dear Doctor, ” said the Squire, “you must excuse my suggesting that we should have a second opinion. ” The Lloctor was John Fielding, of the Parish of Dighton, in the county of Worcester. The Squire was Mr. Lockwood, of Dighton Honor : (the great house of the locality), and the then \ with which the latter, so far inconsequently, commences the conversation, referred to a declaration of the former that upon his word lof honor he did not know what on earth was the matter with her. meaning Miss Stella Lockwood, aged seventeen, the Squire's eldest | child by a dead wife. The second Mrs. Lockwood was present at this consultation, and took a leading part in it; answered all the Doctor's questions, and I anxiously entered into every detail of the sick I girl's case, in the hope that she might help him to discover its cause and prescribe for its cure. It was a very peculiar case. Six months ago Stella Lockwood was the picture of phys ical health, and to all appearance as happy a girl as could be found in the shires. All of a sudden she lost her strength, her good looks, her Sood temper; became pale, nervous and gloomy, and yet no recognizable disease showed itself. She ate well and slept well; there was nothing the matter with her diges tive organs, or her lungs, or her brain. Her heart was in perfect order as a blood-pump, and untouched by a malady with which “sweet seventeen” is sometimes afflicted. There was I no consumption or decline in her family, i Her father had not spent five pounds on doc- j tors or druggists since he left college. Her mother was a strong and he.arty woman until | crippled by an accident, which will be hereaf- i ter recorded. There were no sins of the third ' or fourth generations that any- one knew of I likely to be visited upon the children in this; ! for the child in question sprung from long lived, prudent and temperate stock on both sides. When, therefore, her father (who at first, man like, made light of his daughter’s ailment and poo phooed his wife's fears) was at last driven to realize that there must be something the matter, and was honestly in formed by his friend the doctor that upon his' word and honor he did not know what on earth it was, * * ® he broke out with that then we have heard, and the desired second opinion was procured. The seconrl opinion came from a famous practitioner (from London), whose specialty was nerves, particularly female nerves, and who was by no means the sort of man to say upon his word and honor he did not know what on earth anything was. Another specialty was his smile. It was reproachful, saying, “ Oh, why- did you not send for me sooner ? ” * ® * It was assuring, saying, “ Lay- aside all your anxieties now that I am here.” ® * ® It was complimentary, say ing, “Yes, you suffer exactly what a person in your rank of life ought to suffer under the circumstances.” He smilingly added a new fashioned preparation of iron to Dr. Fielding’s treatment, smilingly prescribed change of air and smilingly took his fifty guineas and his leave. The new-fashioned preparation of iron did not do Stella any- good, and the change of scene did her actual harm. Nothing pleased her, nothing interested her. She was led through France, Switzerland, Italy, like a girl in a trance. She pined and fretted for home, and home they- had to bring her * « * acting under a third opinion * * * after an absence of six months, not one whit im proved by- her traveling, paler, more nervous and gloomy- than ever. About this time, also, began a change in her demeanor toward her stepmother which greatly- distressed that lady, and a habit of seeking the society of her step grandfather which astonished the whole household. To explain this, we must go back to the day-s of the first Mrs. Lockwood. St. John Lockwood, of Dighton Honor, was left lord of himself at an early age, and found his heritage anything but one of woe. Before he left Oxford it had betm arranged by every one, but himself, that he should marry his old playmate and neighbor, Mabel Ravesy, and even in his own mind this was as much ar ranged as anything else that entered that rather overcrowded and disorderly domain. The lady had her own consent, and more. She loved him deeply, tenderly, truly, and was in every- way worthy of a steadier and a better man. This was why- the young Squire’s guardians favored an early marriage.® * * Mabel was a good, clever girl, and would man age him, they thought. Besides, what a mercy it would be for her, poor child! to have a home of her own ! From this it may be in ferred that her surroundings were not irre proachable. Alany a girl of her age, how ever, envied the maiden mistress of Claiborne Court. Colonel Ravesy was a widower of ten years’ standing, a justice of the peace, a dep uty lieutenant, a steward of county races, a patron of county balls, a power in the Vehi mic court, which made and enforced social laws at Salincham * ® * * the county- town, famous for its hunting, its scandal and its “ waters.” The county shook its head and sighed over the Colonel’s doings out of the county. The great world’s favorite weekly newspapers frequently- contained spicy little paragraphs concerning him. Still he held his own. It is so difficult to cashier a leader, once you have put him in command; and the lawn tennis, the archery, the balls, the theatricals, the cellar and the cuisine of Claiborne Court were so good, and the pro prietors were so carefully- attended to at home that Col. and Miss Ravesy’s invitations were rarely refused. “ Yes, my dear,” materfamilias would say-, “ I think we shall go this time: but really-, when Flora comes out ” With a good many others, every time was to be the last time, and so indeed it' was, till the next. During the winter, when St. John Lockwood became of age, Claiborne Court outshone it self. “Where the does the money come from ? ” men asked each other. Shortly after the last of these gayeties; St. John went up to London to see a fellow off who was going abroad. The next thing heard of him was that he had gone abroad himself, and the next, that he was married! Ona cer tain Monday night at Vienna, he said to him self in the glass as he undid his collar. “Threw herself at my head, by Jove I ” and was elated. By the following Wednesday he found out that the object of this remark threw herself at peo ple’s hearts, not their heads, and was horribly jealous. On the Saturday he threw himself and his fortune at her feet, and was made happy. She was an American, one of those bright, beautiful, hearty girls, who dance through their youth to the music of their own happiness. Impulsive as he was, and as much in love, she saw no reason why they should not be married “right away.” And married right away they- were. This was a heavy- blow to Mabel, rendered more hard to bear by her father’s conduct. He was furious; denounced Lockwood as a scoundrel, and poor Mabel as a “ little fool.” Why- had she not played her cards better? Why had she put him (her parent) to all that expense, and let the prize slip through her fingers after all? He had been borrowing money right and left upon the strength of the marriage for which he had been scheming, and the news from Vienna brought a swarm of indignant creditors around his ears. When the happy pair came to live at Dighton Honor there were, of course, plenty of good-natured friends to tell the bride of Mabel Ravesy’s “ disappointment, ” and to warn her against “the dreadful man, the Col onel.” The Colonel had been obliged to let Claiborne Court and to move into a modest cottage over somewhat nearer Dighton. He was not able to entertain now, so no one called upon him. Mr. Lockwood was, however, too careless, and his wife too wise, to follow what was pointed out to them as the proper course. The one sought the Colonel (who found it ex pedient to hide his feelings) as much as ever, and the other made a prime favorite of the Colonel’s daughter. At first there was more of the wisdom of the serpent (on the married lady’s side) than the softness of the dove in this arrangement. '■ I’ll let them see, ” she said to herself, “ that I’m not afraid of her, and I’ll make him feel that I trust him. ” This, perhaps, was somewhat risky with a man of Lockwood’s temperament, but it an swered its purpose. All went well; little Stella was born, and the Squire, under the management of his clever wife, had settled down into a steady-going country gentleman, when that accident, already- foreshadowed, took place. He had been called to London on business, which was to detain him some ten days. On the morning of the seventh he tel egraphed his delighted wife: “All done. Meet me by the 2:50 train.” Owing to some delays, the message did not reach the Honor till past two o’clock, and the station was a good half hour’s drive away. Mr. Lock wood’s pony-carriage happened to be at the door for another service. By mak ing a short cut over the grass of the park she could still catch the train. In she sprang, and off went the high-spirited little nags at a hand-gallop. When the roughest of the drive was over, and only a hundred yards of level turf separated their excited driver from the main road, one of them put his foot in a rab- bit hole, fell, nipped up his mate and overset the carriage. The beautiful Mrs. Lockwood never sat up right again. “ I wish it had killed me outright, Mabel,” she said one day. “I am no companion for him now, poor' fellow, and he feels it. No more drives with him to the meet, no more scampers over the autumn fields with the luncheon basket. Yes.” she added, half to herself, with a long-drawn sigh, “ if it were not for Stella ” Mabel Ravesy hardly ever left her, so as a matter of propriety the dreadful Colonel, who I . Ipid no home now, as his creditors had swal lowed up the cottage orne, took up his quar ters at the Honor, and brought with him the | last remaning member of his once numerous ■ household as a sort of companion to Mabel, , and an assistant nurse for the afflicted lady .of the house. This person had been house i keeper at Claiborne Court, and was a model ; of that combination of dignity and respectful ness which is so valued in an upper servant, i She might have been mistaken for a duchess I as she swept along the hall in plain rich black . silk to take the orders for the day—she stood before her young mistress meeker than the • last-arrived dairy-maid. She gave quite a character to the house. “If half the stories about him (the dreadful Colonel) are true,” friends of his prosperous days would say, “ Mrs. Kirkmann would not , be there.” | Strong, firm, quiet, she made an excellent nurse so far as mechanical success went, but for tenderness or sympathy one might as well have searched the nether millstone. Mrs. Lockwood lived, or rather suffered life, for two years, and then the end came, unexpectedly. She was found dead in her bed, with little more than the usual wring of t>ain on her once happy face. We all know how trifles will be magnified under the shadow of a great sorrow. There i were upbraiding® and tears in the servants’ i hall that day- over — a lemon pip ! Like all I invalids, Mrs. Lockwood had her little fancies and dislikes, and one of them was against pips in her lemonade. They made it bitter, she said. The glass from which she drank during the night was found overturned and a small piece chipped out of its rim by its fall against the jug. A portion of its contents soaked the table-cloth, in removing which Mrs. Markby, the housekeeper, found that one pip ■ —stranded. “I shouldn’t sleep for a month, Mary Jane,” said the good woman reproachfully, “if I could think that the last thing I did for the dear lady was done careless.” “ I’ll take my Bible-oath, Mrs. Markby,” sobbed the inculpated kitchen-maid, “that I strained it.” “ If you had strained it,” persisted the ac cuser, there couldn’t have been any pip.” In this calamity the dreadful Colonel made himself extremely- useful, and increased the hold he had obtained over the widower. He made the arrangements for the funeral, and relieved the mourner of all these petty troubles which grate so upon grief. When the propri eties would no longer permit his daughter to remain at the Honor, he took her to London, and reappeared in good feather at several of his old haunts. To London, and afterwards to Scarborough, St. John followed them be fore the year was out —the Honor was so lonely, he said. The Colonel was glad to hear that his former housekeeper, Mrs. Kirk man,, had been provided for. She was now keeping a school at Dighton, and doing well. * * « * s As every- one expected, Mabel Ravesy be came the second Mrs. Lockwood. Thrown so much together as she and little Stella had been, there was no shock for the child. Little to forget and nothing to learn, the old associ ations blended into the new relationship very happily.. “Wait till she has children of her own, said Malice. In due time she had chil dren of her own, but still the motherless child was. best and first and dearest. So her kind critics veered round, and were shocked at such injustice to her own flesh and blood. It was ridiculous, some of them assured each other, ta behold how Stella was spoiled. - Her step-mother appeared to be afraid of the child. Others shook their heads and declared that there must be some cause for it —mean- ing, of course, a bad one. I notice that when ever the uncharitable cannot put a finger, moral or physical, on tha-cause of what they do not understand, and consequently dislike, they- wag the tops of their bodies and groan that a bad one must exist. There was no bad cause for it; it might have been so with out any cause at all, for Mabel had a big warm Heart; but it did so happen that about a month before the first Mrs. Lockwood died, she took her kind nurse’s hand and whispered, (as though in continuation of something that had through her mlntl uunyukcu). “ You will take my place with Stella, too, dear, won’t y-ou ?” The time came when the love which Mabel bore the child for its own sake, and the affec tion created by- that tender trust, underwent a change. Fear stole in. The gossips were right—she became afraid of her husband’s daughter. CHAPTER 11. I have said that upon her return from that fruitless continental tour a change came over Stella Lockwood's demeanor to her step mother which greatly- distressed that lady, and a habit of seeking the society of her step grandfather which astonished the whole house hold. By this time the dreadful Colonel had fallen into very bad ways. When his daughter was married strangers took him for the bride groom, so young and chirpy- did he look; be fore three.years were over he broke down into an old man, with nothing lovely in the marks which time had stamped upon him. As a child, little Stella was arraid of him; as a girl they rarely met, though he had taken up his quarters permanently at the Honor. As a young woman she did what few others cared to do —bearded him in his den, where he sat smoking the strongest tobacco, drinking cold gin-and-water, and muttering to himself. The only visitor he tolerated was his late house keeper,.Mrs. Kirkman, who came every Sun day, and remained w-ith him exactly one hour. Then she called on Mrs. Markby, had a glass of sherry and a biscuit, with that lady in her sanctum, and took her leave. Routine and punctuality were characteristics of the still handsome and dignified Mrs. Kirkman. The Colonel had become negligent as regards his person, profane in his language, and was al most always fuddled with drink, **® not an attractive companion for any one, much less for a nervous girl of seventeen. Never theless, Stella would seat herself at the other side of the table at which he sat pretending to read, and watch him with her face resting on her hands. “O, dear Miss Stella,” the ser vants would exclaim, “don’t, pray, go in; he’ll hurt y-ou, sure-” And the warning was not without cause) for the Colonel found charms in his solitude, and had been known to hurl bottles (empty ones) and even chairs, at such as intruded upon it. “No, he will not hurt me,” Stella would re ply, in the firm but abstracted tone which had grown in her voice, and he did not. He would stamp and scream at her as she sat watching him, swear awful oaths, and threaten, wildly, but he never touched her. When he locked his door to keep her out, she would go around to the window and watch him through the glass. For his den was on the ground floor, so chosen because his heart was affected, and going up and down stairs was bad for him. If he closed the shutters in her face Stella would still stand her ground, as though no obstacle impeded her sight, and it always ended by his letting her in. “ you,” he would cry, “it’s worse to know- you are there looking at me than to see your cursed sac come in.” She seldom spoke; when she did, it was always about her mother. Sometimes he would cry and plead piteously to be left alone. If she would only go away now, she might come and stay all day to-morrow. She paid no attention to what he said. If she were in a talking mood, she went on, irrespective of what he replied. If in a silent one, nothing that he said appeared to move her. Once he kept his bed in the next room for nearly a week to avoid her; but she came all the same, evening after evening, and sat herself oppo site his empty chair till he surrendered. This conduct of Stella’s was all the more strange, because she had herself fallen into long spells of silence and affected solitude. She withdrew almost entirely from the society of her father and her step-mother. When acting under further advice from the famous “nerves’-’ man —cheerful young girls of her own age were invited to the Honor, she was barely civil to them, and, of course, they- took the hint and did not repeat their visits. She would sit alone for hours in the room where her mother died, and in the twilight would wander about the great house, exploring lum ber-rooms and attics, returning with her dress torn by the nails and grimy with dust. Only one short year before she was the neatest of the neat. You may be sure that this did not pass un rebuked. “I dare say you mean it kindly, dear,” Mrs. Lockwood' said soon after these new fancies had developed themselves, “but really you do your poor grandfather harm. He is in a very nervous state, and begs to be left alone. “Does he ?” replied Stella, dreamily. “Yes. And Dr. Fletcher will tell you that it is the best thing for him. He is very much shaken, and the least excitement is bad for him ; your father understands this, and never goes near him. I only go occasionally, to see that he is comfortable. Now oblige me, my darling, by not going again.” “I must go.” “But why ? It can be no pleasure to you.” “I must go.” “This is childish. 1 ’ said Mrs. Lockwood, getting vexed. “I tell you there is no occa siou for you to go: you do him harm by go ing. I will not allow my father to be annoy ed by any one. If you know what trouble he has had, poor man. you w-ould be mote considerate. Now, Stella (finding that the girl’s face was hardening), you know that 1 never deny you anything that is good for you; do please me this once; promise not to go again. 1 ’ “I will try not to go.” “Try, nonsense! As I said before, it can be no pleasure to you ; your curiosity is sat isfied by- this time, I should think. You speak as though I had asked you to make some j sacrifice. Besides,” she went on, meeting I with ho Hisponse, “Dr. Fletcher says it is bad for you also. You are in a highly nervous I state yourself and the sight of a person af flicted as is my poor father, must injuriously | affect you. Do not force me to exert my au thority and absolutely forbid you, Stella.” “ No,” said the girl, “ I would rather that you did not forbid me.” “ That is my own Stella.” Mrs Lockwood thought she had gained her point, and tried to seal it with a kiss, but the girl turned away her face. “ Stella, she almost sobbed, “why will vou not kiss me?” z “ I do not know-.” “ Are you vexed with me for what I have said ?” “ No.” “ Oh, Stella, you do not love me.” “I see my own mother so often now,” said the girl, with Towered eyelids, “that—that—” “See your own mother?” gasped Mrs. Lockwood. “In my dreams, I suppose; but I will try and please you; I will try, indeed.” For some time she did'not go near the Col onel’s den, or even visit that part of the gar den into which its windows opened. But j gradually the circle of her wanderings nar-1 rowed; she would not (or could not) avoid I that side of the house, * * • she could not avoid the path which led to the forbidden ground, ” ” she passed the window slowly- and more slowly, and at last could not resist stopping at it and looking within. Then she went in the same as before. What was to be done? All the doctors agreed that in her present state of health she was not to t>e thwarted. At the same time, they insisted that she must be kept away from the Colonel —for both their sakes. Persuasion, command and entreaty were employed in vain. “lou see,” she would reply, without a shade of obstinacy- or defiance, “ I must go.” One evening a piercing shriek was heard in the “den.” None of the servants dared enter it. Mrs. Lockwood was sent for, and found the Colonel in a fit on the floor. “ Cruel child! ” she cried, “he is dead—you have killed him.” “He is not dead,” said Stella, quietly; and he will not die just yet.” And she was right; but this brought mat ters to a climax. “Very well, then,” said Mr. Lockwood, “ if sense will not teach you to refrain from what is unkind and injurious, I will see what wood and iron will do.” So orders were given to shift the Colonel’s quar ters. He was past going up and down stairs now, and so it did not matter in what part of the house the “den” was to be. Suitable rooms were found in one of the wings, and carpenters came to measure the passage which led to them for a massive baize-covered door, which would shut Miss Stella out from even approaching within ear-shot of her vic tim. He never reached the proposed haven of rest. The very- day before it was ready for his occupation, he was found much as his daughter had seen him after that shriek was heard. He had slipped from his chair and lay-huddled up on the floor, but stone dead and cold, this time. Since that previous attack Stella had been carefully watched, and it was certain that she was not actively responsible for the more fatal seizure. Still, it was felt to be the se quel to the other, and that she was to be charged with both. She heard the news with out emotion, and bore the reproaches cast upon her without reply. The cause of death was certified to be dis ease of the heart, and so there was no inquest. The funeral was a quiet one, but marked by an incident which caused some talk. When those solemn words, “We therefore commit his body to the ground,” were spoken, Mrs. Kirkman, who had been standing, Ry tko head of the grave, knelt down, took a handful of earth, pressed it to her lips, and let it fall slowly- on the coflin. Returning from the church-yard, Mrs. Markby took Dr. Fletcher aside, and what passed between them, resulted in his return ing to the Honor, and going with her to the now vacant den. “ If I’m over bold, Doctor," she began, “ in my- questioning, please remember that, girl and woman, I’ve served this family for three and thirty years.” “ Yes, y-es, yes; I understand,” he said, afraid, like all his craft, of long introductions. “Go on. What’s the matter now ?” “ You remember my first mistress here, doctor?” “ Os course.” “ What did she die of?” “ Impossible to say, exactly. She was worn out with suffering, poor lady! Perhaps there was some internal injury that escaped us, and which may have led to the immediate cause of her death.” “ But the Colonel died of heart disease — you’re sure of that?” “ Now, Mrs. Markby come to the motive of your questioning. There is one beyond cu riosity —I can see that in your face,” said the Doctor, getting in earnest. “There is, indeed, sir; I was the one who put the rooms to rights after both deaths, and, if you will believe me, the same glass in which Mrs. Lockwood had her last drink of lemonade was the one the Colonel used for his gin-and-water, just before he died.” “ How can you possibly- know that?” “ The rim was chipped where it fell against the jug.” “Pshaw! I’ll engage that there are a dozen chipped tumblers in the house. ” “ Maybe, but not of that pattern. We’ve had nothing like that pattern since my first lady’s time. It’s an American sort of glass that she fancied —goblet shape, like a big wineglass. Why, that’s nearly- fifteen years ago, Doctor, and there is not one other left. Set upon set have been broken up since then. How came this one left? And how did it get into the Colonel’s room?” "If that’s all, I don’t think it worth while to inquire. Odd things do survive. They get put away out of use.” “ They do,” said the housekeeper, somewhat relieved, “that’s'true. If y-ou were only sure what my first lady died of. ” "“There is something more in y-our mind, Mrs. Markby,” replied the Doctor severely, “and I insist upon knowing what it is. ” “Sir, there was a pip found on the table near that glass, w here the lemonade had been spilled out of it.” “Wonderful! ” sneered Fletcher. “A lem on-pip in lemonade! You don’t say so! ” “It was Mary Jane Masters (Smith washer maiden name) who was under me then,” the housekeeper continued, unmindful of the sar casm, “and she made that lemonade. My mis tress was very- particular not to have any pips in it —they made it bitter, she ifeid, and scolded Mary- Jane for her carelessness in not straining it. She swore she had strained it, and, Dr. Fletcher, I believe she told the truth. I never caught her out in a lie before, or af ter.” “If yqu mean anything at all by this, you mean to insinuate that the first Mrs. Lockwood was poisoned, ” the doctor blurted out, getting red and uneasy. “ The Lord forgive me if I’m a wicked woman, but 1 do, ” Mrs. Markby replied. “By whom?” “Sir, when I came back from the room after giving Mary Jane my mind, I couldn’t find that glass. I didn't want it so much as the pip for proof against the girl. I got that, and thought no more about the tumbler till I found it on the Colonel’s table. How did he get it? Now, Doctor, many times since Miss Stella has been plaguing him he said he wished he was dead, that his life wasn’t worth having, and such like. Suppose he had disease of the heart, but didn't die of it? Suppose he poi soned himself?” "That wouldn’t show that he had poisoned another.” “It would show that he had poison, though. Where did he keep it ? If he ever used it in | that tumbler, he would most likely have put I them away together.” “ By , Markby, you ought to have been a detective,” exclaimed the doctor. “ Was there anything in the tumbler when you found it last?" “ About a tablespoonful of gin and water.” | “ You didn’t throw it away, I hope ?” “ No, sir, I locked it up, just as it was, in that drawer.” ' As she spoke, she opened the drawer and ■ handed Fletcher the cracked tumbler, with about two inches of (flear liquid in it. At j his request, she then got a vial, into which, after having washed it out carefully, he I poured the gin and water which the Colonel i hud left. “I will take this home with me,” he said, | “ and let you know to-morrow if there is any- thing wrong about it. In the meantime, not I a word to any one.” ! To-morrow came, but no Dr. Fletcher. Three days passed, and yet he had not kept his word. On the morning of the fourth he | drove up in his gig with portmanteau and rugs, as though bound for a journey. and sent for Mrs. Markby to come out to him, as he ‘ had not a moment to spare. “ I'm puzzled about that,” he whispered. “ and am going to London to see a friend of mine, who is an analytical chemist, about it. 1 here may be some sediment in the tumbler which might help us: so get it for me. and be ; quick, or I shall lose the train.” , She hurried to the “ den ” and opened the 1 I drawer. . The tumbler was gone ! (CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK.) FI.OVRIXG MILLS. “THE BELLE of GEORGIA” ARLINGTON FLOURING MILLS, Atlanta, Ga. fiHOLSTIJi, BOWIE & (0., PROPEIETOBS “ The Be;le of Georgia” is presented to the public with the guarontee that it represents as good Flour as can be made. With great care in the selection of Wheat, with the best Milling Machinery that can be bought, and with the practical work under the supervision of Mr. Kiley, who is a veteran and accomplished Miller, the Flour turned out from these Mills Is Equal to tha Best We guarantee every sack of Flour sold from our Mills to be first-class in every respect, and just as rep resented. BOWIE & GHOLSTIN, 42 & 44 ALABAMA STREET. HOUSE-FURNISHING GOODS. THE PLACE OF ALL GO TO STEWART <t FAIN’S FOR HOUSEFURNISHING GOODS, STOVES, TIN-WARE, AM) BABY CARRIAGES. The Cheapest and Best. Don’t be fooled with big advertisements. Go and see for yourself, and you will see that the greatest bargains and best styles are to be had at STEWART A FAIN’S, 69 Whitehall st., Atlanta. PROPRIETARY MEDICINES. The Miracle of Medicines. The most famous and best approved Medicine ever made in Georgia is DRADrvjELri-S FEMALE REGULATOR! F It has been used in thousands of famelics constant ly for the past ten years, and is approved unanimously aud heartily. Thousands of certificates are received every year. THE SALES OF THE REGULATOR extend all over the Union, and were never so large as at present. All other remedies tailed. BOON TO SUFFERING FEMALES. LaGbange, Ga., March 29, 1876. Dr. J. Beadfield, Atlanta, Ga.: Dear Sir—l take pleasure in stating that I have used for the last twenty years the medicine you are putting up known as Dr. Bradfield’s Female Regulator, and consider it the 4 best combination ever gotten together for the diseases for which it is recommended. With kindest regards, I am, respectfully, W. B. FERRELL, M.D. Mount Calm, Houston Co., Tex., April 18, 1875. Dr. Josiah Bradfield, Dear Sir—l have been using for the past year your Female Regulator, and find it to be just what it is recommended to be. In fact, I have been successful in many cases of derangement of the uterus where all other remedies have totally failed. I am anxious to get it in general use among us. No one has given it so thorough trial as myself. If you will send me some one or two cases, I will start it in my circle aud do what I can to spread it through our State. Respectfully yours, WM. G. MOBLEY, M.D. HARDWARE. J. M. ALEXANDER & CO., IMPORTERS AND DEALERS IN II A. H I> WzV HE, CARRIAGE MATERIAL, MILL STONES, BOLTING CLOTH, 40 Whitehall Street, Atlanta, Ga. All of which are sold at the very lowest rates and ou LIBEKAL TERMS. NO BETTER STOJK OF HARDWARE IN THE CITY. —ALSO— AGENTS IN GEORGIA FOB THE New Davis Sewing Machine, (Vertical Feed Shuttle.) Most Simple, Compact and Durable Shuttle Machine in Use. Simple in Construction, Certain in its Results, Durable in all its Parts, and is adapted to a greater Range of Work than any other Machine. THE VERTICAL FEED Is the gr« atest advance made in sewing mechanism since the invention of Sewiug Machines. We invite a careful examination of it, believing no one can fail to recognize the fact that it is the most perfect Sewing Maebiue Made. THE GRAND MEDAL OF HONOR was awarded to the "DAVIS at the Centennial Exhi- , bition. - For further information aud terms, address J. M. ALEXANDER & CO., 4LO Whitehall Street. RESTAURANTS. THOMPSON’S, The oldest and best RESTAURANT IN THE CITY. I Famous for its fine dishes, its superb cooking and | I its low prices. All the Delicacies of the Season Always on hand and served in the best style. i The headquarters for good livers. Never go any where for delicious or goyd meals except THOMPSON’S RESTAURANT JAJITCS’ BANK BLOCK. ' 1 FAIRS. ANNUAL FAIR AND RACES OF THE NORTH GEORGIA STOCK fill FUR ASSOCI.ITIOX WILL BE HELD IN ATLANTA, GEORGIA, | OCTOBER 21, 22, 23, 24, 25 and 26, 1878. $14,500 OFFERED in PREMIUMS. $4,500 offered in Racing Purses! $1,300 in Military Prizes! I Over twenty Military Companies outside of the State already decided to come. THE FASTEST HORSES In the country are coming. OPEN AIR CONCERT EVERY DAY By one of the finest Brass Bands in the Union. Amusements of all Kinds May be expected. MINSTREL PERFORMANCES! CIRCUS! MENAGERIE! MULE RACES! FOOT RACES! WHEELBARROW 7 RACES! SACK RACES! VELOCIPEDE RACES! His Excellency, Samuel J. Tilden, has been in vited to be present. The Mystic Brotherhood Os Atlanta will appear upon the streets October 25th, in more grandeur than ever before. Send for Premium List. Don’t fail to come. B. W. WRENN, Sec’y, W. B. Cox. Atlanta, Ga. President. Sept. 17-ts. LIVER*. CLISTT TAYLOR, FINEST LIVERY IN THE SOUTH. Best Carriages and Teams! most careful drivers. nSA-SOTTABLjE PRICES. The headquarters for the stock men. The Drovers* Exchange. place in the city for quick sales. Nos. 54, 56, 58 and 60 S. PRYOR ST., ATLANTA, GA. RAILROADS. TPTE ROUTE FOB INVALIDS, TOURISTS, AND PLEASURE SEEKERS. THE PIEDMONT AIR-LINE Is the Route to the “LAND OF THE SKY.” The piedmont air line offers superior inducements and rare attractions to Invalids, Tourists aud Pleasure Scekers, with its splendid road bed, handsome coaches, aud speed aud comfort, added to the lact that it traverses a country noted for its MATCHLESS CLIME, PICTURESQUE SCENERY, MAJESTIC MOUNTAINS, VERDANT VALLEYS. Passing through the GOLD region of Northeast Geor gia, with its numerous Watering Places aud Summer Resorts, so largely patronized the past scasou, it reach es the far-famed “LAND OF THE SKY” in Western North Carolina. In Georgia is presented New Holland, White Sulphur. Porter’s, Garnett’s, Gow er’s, and other health-giving Springs. The Hotels at Mt. Airy, Gainesville, and Toecoa keep open during the entire winter, with ample accommodations for nu merous visitors. Gaine-ville, Spartanburg, Limestone Springs, and Casar’a Head, Soutl. Carolina, are all popular resorts. Parties who spent the severe portion of last winter in Florida, spent the remainder of the season at Mount Airy with decided advantage to their health. Parties en route to Florida can apend the early Autumn, aud those returning from Florida, the early Spring at these excellent aud elevated resorta with profit to tiielr physical welfare. Os the climate of Western North Carolina, Guyot savs: *«he climate of this elevated region ia truly de lightful. Even in mid-winter snow remains but a short time on the ground, and the summit of the high mountains are never covered throughout the winter with snow.” . . - c . Nestled amid these grand mountains is the beautiful city of Asheville, N. C. Near it are the French Broad and Swannauva rivers. Asheville is 2,250 feet above the level of ihe sea, and has a climate mild, dry, and full of salvation for the consumptive. Here is located an excellent Sanitarium for pulmonary diseases. In the year the highest temperature in summer was »0 deg in 1«1. The temperature at midday in winter rises to 50 and sometimes to 70 and 80 deg. Asheville is reached via the 1-iedmout Air-Line and Spartanburg Sr AshevUe It. B. The last road is now running with in 20 miles of Asheville, and the staging is through a lovely aud romantic section, over a smooth road, by i daylight. JAMES C DUNLAP, J. R. MACMURDO, ; ROBT. R. BILLUPS, Geu’l. Pass. Ag’t.. Passenger Agenta, RICHMOND, VA- ATLANTA, GA. W. J. HOUSTON, Gen. Pass. A Ticket Agt. ATLAN TA, GA. J. L. WALDROP, General Traveling Agent. LAUNDRY. ATLANTA CITY LAUNDRY, Xo. 2 Loyd Street, Near Markham House. Washing, Starching and Ironing Done on shobt notice and in first-class style. LACE WINDOW CURTAINS MADE TO LOOK LIKE NEW stopping in the city for a few Lours only, aud wanting work done in our line, may rely on prompt attention. Goods called so- and delivered to any part of the city fr<e of charge. TERMS CASH ON DELIVERY. J. R. GREGORY’, Proprietor. Miss M. A. SMITH, Sup’t.