Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

.O^vY&i m Red Haired Penn3 T , THE UGLY HICK. CHAPTER I. ‘Shoe the horse and shoe the mare, But let i he little colt go bare.’ The old barn was a pleasant pltce, with the red rajs of an October sunset streaming across its broad floor, lightening op the heaps of red apples and golden pumpkins and squashes and hunting up all the cobwebs which the patient spiders had been spinning, unmolested, for years, on the dusty beams and rafters,and turn ing them into threads of flame; finding Pene lope’s hair, too, poor little Penelope’s red head, which waB such a mortification to her,and mak ing every hair glitter like spun gold. Penelope was sitting on an inverted milk-pail just inside Pegasus’ stall cutting up turnips. There was a pleasant frosty tingle in the air that blew through thegrtat doorway. The docks came up in a procession from the brook, all solemn and stately except the ‘crazy one, who rushed frantically from side to side attacking imaginary tots and pouncing upon imaginary grasshoppers. Along the. orchard wall thegreat gobbler came strutting, hurrying his loiteriDg family with angry gobblings. A stranger might not have seen anvthing ve ry attractive in this scene, but Penelope thought it was delightful—ducks, turkeys and all. It had been her home since she was seven years old, and when she came to Sbaftsbury Mills, she had lived in as many places as sht was yea. s old. •Oh, hew could I leave you, you dear old farm ?' said she to herself, letting a tear or two fall on the turnips. ‘The attic, with the funny old spinning-wheel, and the big sitting-room fire place, and this lovely old barn, with the big beams to climb,and such peifectly elegani jump on to the hay, 8nd the strawberry field, and thi orchard, and oh! my dear Pegasus, and Cleopat ra and Desdemona, and their bewitching calves and my irszy duck, and even that hotrid old gobler, and Priscilla,my beautiful white turkey! But you don t want yeur turnips salted witl tears, do you Pegasus, my dear? And we won’t — we icon t go, unless we have to, will we, Pega sus? But if we do have to, we‘ll remember what Stephen Illsley says—‘whatever else you do, don,t howl.* •Het.r! hear! Noble sentiment by Pennyroyal! cried a voice, and a young man of twenty-on< or two, with an air ot city breeding, which was not entirely due to his elegant attire, or his dair ty cane, appears upon the scene. ‘A truly heroic motto, worthy to be engraved upon the Wentworth coat of arms, gilt letters upon an azure ground:‘Whatever else ycu do, don‘t howl. “ Did 1 ray that aloud? I shouldn-t have if I had known that anybody was within hearing especially you,' said Penelope. •Why especially I, little Pennyroyal?* •Bicause I don't know ycu very well, for one reason, and because you seem to think that 1 am very young,* said Penelope, drawing her self up in a very dignified manner. •Young? Not at all—on the contrary, you strike me as beiDg very grandmotherly. I could easily call yon Grandmother Pennyroyal, if you like,* said the young man, teasingly, as he seat ed himselt on a great yellow pumpkin, after carefully dusting it with Lis handkerohief. •My name is Penelope and I was sixteen last June,* said Penelope, primly. ‘What in the world are you doing child? 1 in quired the young man, suddenly attracted to her occuia 1 ion, aLd utterly ignoring the prim rebuke. ‘Outt ng up turnips for Pegasus* supper. H< is very fond cf turnips, but be is getting old now, and likes them cut very fine.* But why don't Joel or Mrs. Bumpus do it? It isn't suitable work for you. Don't you know flat it will spoil your hands?* ‘Spoil my hands! Why wl at were hands made for?’ said Penelope, with a gay laugh. Then she dropped knife and turnip, and surveyed her hands critically, as if struck by a new idea. ‘Mine look as if they were made to cut tur nips, don't they?* she said, holding them up for her com panion‘s inspection—a pair oi rather large and bony hands,it must be acknowledged, and somewhat romhened by labor. ‘Ah, young lady’s hands were made to play the piano, and do fancy work, and whatever dis plays them to the best possible advantage/ said tbe'young man oracularly, try ing to bide the expression of dismay that came into his face as he looked at Penelepe‘8 hands. Seriously, Ms< Ptnelope, I advise you to let Joel cut up the turnips.* •Bui Joel has the rheumatism and can't do it. Besides, I like doing it. I am not pretty like Gatty and Lilly, you know, so it doesn't signify about my hands. Don't you—oh, don't you think they are beautiful, Lilly and Gatty? I am sure you don't see such pretty girls in the city. Papa used to say that Gatty was a rose and Lilly was a lilly. * ‘And you are only Pennyroyal! By the way, G tty has been telliDg me why you are called by that funny name which distresses my moth- erso;btcause Mrs. Bumpus said that pennyroyal was always where you could put jeur bands on it when yon wanted it, and good for most every thing. And they thought you deserved to be named for it. 1 think it is a great compliment.' ■So do I, * said Pennyroyal, flashing to the roots ot her red hair; ‘and 1 have proved to you that I am good for cutting up turnips. Now I iim going lor the cows. 1 would ask you to go too. only I am afraid you would think it wasn’t dignified.* She led Pegasus-a rather ancient, hut well-fed, looking steed, out from his stall, and sprang nimbly upon his back, with the aid of the milk pail. •You don’t mean that yon are going to ride that horse without saddle or bridle?’ exclaimed the young man, in apparent consternation. For answer, PeBelcpe seized Pegasus’ mane for a bridle and walked him briskly around the barn. ‘•The elephant now goes round, goes round, The hand begins to play, The little boys under the monkey's cage Had better get out of the way.” she sung, saucily, riding Pegasus into very close proximity with the young man's pumpkin seat; and then they were off down the road at a pace that could scarcely have been expected from one of Pegasus’ years and staid appearance. The young man sauntered ltzily to the door and looked after her. •What a child that is!’ he said to himself. ‘Bides ts if she had been trained in a circus, upon my word. What an ugly little monkey she looks,perched up there with that close crop ped red hair of hers. I believe my mother is right—she never could be civil:z?d.’ Then he sauntered towards the house, switch ing eff the beads of the few gay asters which had dtfied the frost, as he went. In the sitting-room, a low, large room, which might have seemed gloomy but for the posses sion of an uDusual number cf windows with crimson curtains, and deep, old fashioned seats, he found the family gathered—that is the 'Rose* and ‘Lilly,’who, with Penelope, constituted a forlorn liltie family, and his mother, and their aunt, Mrs. John Wentworth. This latter body sat in state, in a large arm chair before a little wood fire that flamed and oraokled cheerily in the fireplaoe. Mrs John Wentworth always had the air of setting in state, if it were only in a horse-cart or on a door step. Gatty, with a nice little smile, made a place for the new-comer on the sofa beside her. But I don't see how you can go on living here. I dare say we shall get along, in some here—yon three girls alone/ Mrs. Wentworth was sayiDg, with a look and tone that implied a deep disgust with the doings of Providence in the matter under consideration. •It isn't quite alone, you know, aunt John/ said Gatty. ‘There is Joel and Mrs. Bumpus.* Her tone was cheerful enough, but there was a doubting, dispi i:ed look on her face—which was very unusual for Gatty—and she looked into the fire instead of at her aunt. ‘Yes, there are the servants/said Mrs. Went worth, ‘but I can‘t see how you could afford to keep tnem both, if you were to stay here. Of course you wouldn't try to do anything with the farm, and you would have to sell the cows and horse and you would have no need of Joel.* ‘Sell the horse! Oh, how could we part with Pegasus? We have had him so long and papa thonght so much of him/ cried Gatty. •My dear, I did hope that you were a little practical. I knewtl at Lilly was visionary, like her father, but I hoped that yon could assist me in forming plans for your future with some show of reason. Sentiment is very nice and pretty, but, unfortunately, this world is so con- stitute d that people cannot live upon it. I should ihiukthat what you must have srffired from your poor father's romantic, dreamy turn of mind might have made you all practical/ •We have been very happy, aunt/ This came in a very mild, sweet voice from Lilly's corner, which was near the western win dow, that looked down into the valley. Lilly had manifested no interest in the con versation before, but tad sat silent, looking dreamily at the flaming red and gold bars which the sunset had spread over the dark sky. She was more interested in that view, which she had seen every night for nine years, than she was in her own future, Gatty thought, impati ently. Bat then,that was like Lilly ;one couldn't expect her to be like other people. ‘Happy child! What an idea of happiness yon must have., said Mrs. Wentworth, with an air of supreme disgust. ‘Agatha, have you been happy?' Gatty was silent for a moment, but she wrink led her brow, and gave her shoulders a little shrug. •Not quite, aunt/ she said at last, ‘but still—• •To retuin to the poiat/ interrupted Mrs. Wentworth, ‘You couldn't affoid to keep Joel, and bis wife probably would not stay without him. You would have to find another maid servant—* One couldn t do without Mrs. Bumpus/said Gatty, decidedly. ‘Where could we find anothei who would be so faithful and what should we do tor fun without Mrs. Bumpus' freaks? Pen ny would never consent to it/ ‘There's Penelope!’ said Mrs. Wentworth knitting her brows. ‘Penelope ib the difficulty ! Things might be arranged so nicely if it were not for her.’ •I don’t know what we should do without Pen ny,’ said Gatty, not without a little indignation in her tone. ‘Oh, Penelope (what could have induced your father to give his daughter such a name is more than I can imagine 1) is a goed child, no doubt, aDditisvery commendable in you to wish to make the best of her.’ , She's a jolly little thing with lo's of go in her,’ interrupted the young man, who had hith- , erto contented bimsalf with listening, and stroking the fur of an impish-looking black kitten the wrong way. Please don’t interrupt me, Gale, or if you must be so rude, make your remarks intelligi ble ! I don’t know what go' meats. Is she reallj sixteen ? Well, one would never think of calling her anything but a child, with that ugly, angulsr little figure, and these rough, awkward ways ! As I was saying, Penelope is the diffi culty. I could take you and Lily to town with me for the winter/ Gatly’s eyes sparkled, aDd she erased to tap the floor, restlessly, with her foot, as she had been doing all through the conversation. Even Lily turned from the window. I should really be proud totskeyou into society, for with ail your cc untry breeding, yon are not in the least dowdy or awkward. You are a beauty, Agaiha, and Lilly is very lovely and intellectual ; she has a repose of manner, too, that is aiistocratic and charming. I dare say you would both make excellent matches! 1 You are viry kind, aunt, but we couldn’t go into society much, you know,’ said Gatty, with a glance at her black dress. Oh, my dear ! I assure you it is not the fash ion to seclude oneself ou account of mourning, as it once was. And youlh is elastic and soon throws off grief, especially among new scenes and excitements. But you see, it » clearly im possible for me to take Penelope, too. She is so hopelessly ugly, and more than ugly, so coarse- looking. She makes me think of stone- of changelings that I used to read in fairy books! Gatty s lace flushed, and Lily looked as if she were slightly aroussd from her customary calm. ■Penny is certainly plain, but we never think her rough or coarse. ’ said Gatty. ‘Ah, of course! sisterly pariialityl’ mur mured Mrs. Wentworth, ‘and, as I remarked be fore, it is very commendable in you to try to make the best of her. But not rough or coarse ! My dear, I took a fancy to make the tour of your little establishment an hour ago, and where do you think I found Penelope ?—dig- ding potatoes!’ Joel had an attack of rheumatism yesterday. He can scarcely use his hands at all ; and there were only a few potatoes left to dig.’ ‘Bat such a work for a young lady ! And she looked as unconcerned as if she were doing the mest lady-like thing imaginable ! ‘I don’t think it is just what Penny would like to do unless there were some particular need of it; but you know, aunt, those things don’t look to us country-bred people as they do to you. And Penny is an energetic little body ; it is her v ay to be always doing something. It is strange, since she is the youngest, but she has seemed to take mother’s place in the house hold ever since she died ; and she is such a careful, shrewd, managing little housekeeper.’ •Such persons are very useful in families where only incapable servants are Kept, but you must see—I saw myself at the first glance—that she would defy cultivation ; that nothing could be ever made of her !’ Gatty’s eyes flished, but she bit her lips, and said nothing To make Aunt John angry would be the ruin of all her hopi s, thought Gatty. But she flashed a look of appeal at Lily. Somebody ought to stand up for Penny ! Bat it was almost hopeless appeal, for Lily never got angry, and Lilyjnever ‘stood up’ for anybody. But she did look at Ga’.ty in a wondering way, that made Gatty’s cheeks burn. And then she said, in a listless way (Lily was always list less J. •I am not sure that we should want anything made of har. I don't think we should like to have her anything but just Penny.’ Though the tone was sooareless Gatty wanted to hug her. ‘The question is, what is to be done with her?’ Siid Mrs. Wentworth, impatiently. ‘She might be sent away to school, I suppose, but the state of my affairs is such jast now, and our expenses are necessarily so large—’ ‘We shouldn’t wish you to do so much for us, aunt,’ said Lily. (Why was Gatty who usually saved her the trouble of talking so strangely silent? she wondered.) ‘And I don’t think Penny would like to go away to school. She is very fond of Shaftesbury. And I think, though we thank you very much for your kindness, that it would really be better for us to go on living way And still Gatty said nothing. 'llow could you get along? What would you live upon ?' tsked Aunt John impatiently. ‘Gatty has her plscein the Academy ; she has five hundred dollars a year, you know, and I think, perhaps, I could get a few music scholars over in Shafttsbury. • ‘Two hundred more, possibly. You can live on seven hundred dcllars, I suppose ?• said Mrs. Wentworth, contemptuously. ‘Yes, I think so ; can't we, Gatty? You know we are used to being poor, aunt, we have beeD so alt our lives. * •Well, I have said all that I have to say. 1*11 leave you until to-morrow to think about it. You understand that if anything can be done with Penelope, I will take you both home with me, and provide for yon until yon are married. * At this moment Mrs. Bumpus appaared ia the deor-way ; a tall, angular figure, clad in a gay- ly-flowered calico dress, her head completely shrouded in a black apron. Very little of her face was visible, except the gleam of a pair of little, bright, black, beady eyes. ‘Sich as it is, you might as well come and eat it !• she announced. ‘I had dretfnl poor luck with the sponge cake, and the toast is as hard as Pharaoh‘s heart, but when folks goes to the house of affliction and takes 'em unbeknown besides —* Mrs. Bumpu'sremarks here degenerated into indis iact mutteringa, as she retreated kitchen- ward. •What is the matter with Mrs. Bumpus ?* said Gatty. ’That apron is the flag of distress in this house. She never puts it on her head un less she is cross. * What aD extraordinary servant !' said Mrs. Wentworth, ts she sailed out to the dining room, complexion clear and rosy. Her industrious example and the contagious energy of her spirit inspired Gale and he threw off his dandy ways and developed into a man . So that when three years after, he married Penny, even her partial neighbors had not much fault to find with the match. Lily, swiet dreaming Lily, is now an authoress of some note, and her beautiful, ideal stories are praised and paid for by themagazines. THAT BOY OF MINE! ELEANOR KIRK. CHAPIER II. * jewels so fair I may twine in my hair. And a lady I‘11 surely be/ Penelope was not at the supper table that night, and nobody seemed to knew anything of her whereabouts, unless it was Mrs. Bumpus, who, being in an ‘apron mood/was not com municative upon any subject. Mrs. Wentworth retired early, and her son, after remarking several times, that ‘this bind oi living must be monstrous slow, yon know/ fol lowed her example. So long as Gatty was mak ing Lerseif agreeable to him, the young man did not seem to feel the ‘slowness/ but on this evening, Gatty was very silent and absent minded. As soon as the girls were left alor e, Gatty ctied : •Oh, how could you, Lily? how could you talk to her as if we didn't want to go?* ‘Why, because I don't want to! She is so strange ! She said as muoh as that we ought no! to care for poor papa, because it wasn't the fash ion ! And how she did talk about Penny—dear little Pennyroyal 1 How could you hear it bo calmly ?' said Lily, with unwonted energy. •Because I wanted—because I didn't see that there was anything to be said/ answered Gatty. ‘I w»s S9 disappointed in her. To think that is the Aunt John we have talked and speculated so much about! How did you venture to call such a msjestio being Aunt John ? It is such a ridiculous name. ‘ Gatty did not reply. She seemed to be some what d'sturbed in temper. And what had oc curred to disturb her temper, Lily did not know. Of course it is kind of her to ask us, and 1 don't mean to be ungrateful, Gatty,“ she said, meekly. ‘And of course it would he a very nice ar rangement for ns?- There was do response for a moment, then Lily said, languidly, ‘Why would it ba nioe for Ur?‘ Gatty lost her patience entirely, then. “It doss seem to me, Lily, that you are the most stupid person that I ever saw ! I wish you would open your eyes, once, at least enough to see what is for your owa interest. “But we can't go, Gatty. If I did want to go what difference would it make ? We couldn't leave Penny. The door opened, so softly that neither of them noticed it, before Lily's sentence was fin ished. ‘You wouldn't stay for me, Lily? Oh, I wouldn't have you do that." Penny's voice was not quite steady, though she tried very hard to make it so, and Ga.ty instantly per ceived trac.s of tears about her eyes. “Penny, where have you been? Why didn't you come to supper ?“ she asked. “Howling over my red hair again. Now don't •cola ! I know I am a goose, but I can‘t help caring about looks. And I dihn‘t know how ugly I was, besides my hair, till I—indeed 1 didn't mean lo listen, until I heard what Aunt John said about me, as I was coming in. I went off and had a good howl, all bv myself, and now I am all over it, “ said Penny, cheerfully. “Fancy Mrs. Bnmpus trying to comfort me by saying beauty was only skin deep ! as if people expected ti be skinned. But do you really want to go and live with Aunt John, both of you?" “I don't want to, but I think Gatty does." “I—I never want to leave you, Pennyroyal," said Gatty, giving her a hug. “But you do want to go, Gatty ! I can read it in your eyes !“ said Penny, sitting down on the hearth rug, with her head in Gatty‘s lap. ‘ And you wouldn't be so silly as to stay od my account. Why, you and L.ly can both go, as well as not, and I can stay with Joel and Mrs. Bumpus, and oh ! we can live on such a little, and in the spring ycu‘11 corns back, and how nice it will b#, only won't you miss your poor old Pennyroyal when you want your hair dune awtuily nice, or when the buttons como eff your boots when you-rein a hurry ?“ Penny was good ai her word. She and Lily remained on the farm, kept Pegasus and old Joel and went heart and soul into farming. At least Penny did. She read and listened to all practical hints on planting and cultivating. She rose early and gave her individual attention to the supervision of the farm, finding an able and industrious ally in old Joel. But she man aged to get an hour or two every evening for mental improvement and recreation. Lily’s sweet voice reading aloud to her, Lily’s love and praises and ladylike gentlemss and tendern-.ss were of great use to her. They refined her, kept her f.om growing rough or coarse. She developed too a splendid voice which Lily help ed to train, and she learned to accompany her self on the piano, so that they had nice evening concerts. Cousin Gale came to see them quite unex pectedly and told them of Gatty’s briliiant tri umphs in the City and her engagement to a wealthy merchant. But Gatty’s bright, lively, affectionate letters had told them all about it be fore. That winter, Gatty married, and soon af ter Mrs. Wentworth lost her property through an unfortunate investment and her beautiful home was sold. Penny and Lily wrote at once and the mother and sen came to the plain, brown farmhouse they had looked down on be fore. The girls made them heartily welcome, and Mrs. Wentworth learned then to know the true worth of helj ful, merry, loving Penny. And Penny was no longer the ‘ugly duck.’ She had grown really fine looking, Her features were nobly chiseled by the noble, unselfish thoughts within, her hair had darkened into anbnrn; her figure was splendidly ronnded, and her My gwacious !’ I listened a moment to hear if anything more would be said, but the above ex pletive was the beginning and ths end. My son, not quite six years old, called by some ‘the buccaneer,’ and by others, ‘boseen/ but whose given name was Joseph, had been sent to the ad joining apartment to meditate on his sins. In the act of pnttiDg a patoh ou a pair of little breeches, which had been rent from leg to waist band in climbing a spiked, and on that acoonnt not forbidden, fence, I was naturally too much occupied to rise and discover the cause of the prisoner's excitement. There had been no noise, consequently there conld be no mischief. Oh, fallacy of tallacies ! What could be more ridio- ulous than such a conclusion from such a pre mise ? The buccaneer had five pairs of trousers, all in the same or a like condition, and these were h s Sunday ones. They had been worn once to Ssbbath-school, once to the Park, aud once on a visit to a spiked fence. They were Sunday pants no longer. That morning I had bundled off all his ragged clothes to be mended, and nothing remained between the best ones and Joseph at home in his night-gown all day. The last was a contingency too dreadful fora moment's consid eration—hence the patchicg. ‘Remember, my son, that these are your Sun day trousers,’I had said with ail the impress ment 1 could command, ‘and don’t climb any where, and don't sit down in the dirt. Do you hear me ?’ ‘Yes ma'am.’ ‘And remember, if you get into any trouble, or pick a quarrel with any of the children, ot strike one of them, I shall punish you severely.’ Oh ! the angel face that was lifted lo mine as I finished the last sentence. Raphael never painted a cherub that could approach it in in nocence of expression. ‘Josie never fight no more,’ said he. 'Miss Price’—Miss Price was the angel s Sabbath- school teacher— says that it’s orful wicked to fight, and great big bears, so high’—pointing to the ceiling with his chubby forefinger—‘come down from the great big high mountains and eat boys what fight all up.’ The Bible stories were badly mixed, but there S9emed a oartain safety in the mistake, and J let it go for this time at least. •Oh, my gwaciots ! came again from the sit- tiDg-ioom, this time a little louder, and with a touch of sorrow in the tone. ‘What are you do ing, Joseph?’ I asked with some severity. ‘P'aying horse, mamma/ ‘What are you playing horse with ?' No reply. I repeated the question. •With fings, mamma; don’t be faid !‘ came at last in the wheedling manner I had grown ac customed to when there was mischief on foot. ‘Do you hear me? What kind of things are yon playing horse with? 1 ‘Only spenders, mamma!' A horrible thought flashed into my mind, and at the same time a strong odor of kerosene in vaded my nostrils. Patches and scissors breeches and spools rolled out of my lap as I flew across the room. What I saw was this: How it had all been managed without the slight est noise is only another conundrum which I as a mother give up without the slightest attempt at a solution. Joseph had screwed his fathtr's desk-chair to the top notch, aud there he sat with a piece of twine in each hand. These strings were attached to his father's wedding suspenders, which my own hands had embroid ered. How little I dreamed when setting those variegated s’.iches' that such a fate would over take them. At that moment—if ‘twas wicked, I am sorrry, but—I couldn't help wondering why girls ever get married. But te resume. The suspenders were skill fully and destructively fastened to the student- lamp, which the buccaneer 1 ad set on the floor, minus the stale. Why minus the shade, is giv en up with the rest of the juvenile conundrums. An extra pull had upset the lamp, flooded the carpet, completely saturated one suspender and spotted and besmeared the other. Ten minutes after, Joseph was sobbing in his crib, and I had gene back to my patch. My heart misgave me when I had again taken up my needle. Had I not been unnecessarily harsh with the dear little fellow ? Strange how patbetio the little breeches had all at once be come ! I thought of the half-worn shoes and stockings and tiny pants like those tacked away in drawers where none but grieving mothers ever go, and, well the patch was finished, and I would take a look at the darling whose sobbing had almost ceased. Should I ever forgive my self if—if—if what? Oh ! thought too dreadfal to be endured a moment, and yet children die, yes, children die, and mothers who love, even as I love, live on without them. Josie's hands were very grimy, and his face not much better. With the borrowed dirt from his bands, and the tears that had diluted with out purifying it, the effect was somewhat ludi crous. There wasn't a spot from chin to fore head clean enough to kiss, so I pressed my o .eek to the darling’s sunny curls, and left him to have his nap out. ‘There's one of them rowdy boys wants to see you a minit, ’ said the cook, a half hour after wards, as I was beatiDg eggs in the kitchen. ‘Say, Miss Smith !' began the boy, as I stepped to the door, ‘your Joe is down below here fight ing like everj thing, and he aint got no clothes on neither, he aint.’ My cherub down the street fighting? My sleeping angel outdoors in his nightgown ? It did seem, under the circumstanc s, a little hard to believe, but having lived with my son five yta:s and three-quarters, I ought to have been, and generally was, prepared for anything. I fol lowed the messenger the length cf the block, and there, in the middle of the street, the centre of an admiring and enthusiastic group of five hundred or less boys, of all grades and nation alities, sat the cherub in his robe de nuit, on the breast of a young pugilist almost twice his size. One grimy fist clung to the enemy’s top not, and the other was poised jast in front of his nose, ready to descend at the slightest provocation. •Aint you ashamed to be licked by such a little feller as that?' cried the spectatois; and then I made my way through the crowd and took the astonished buccaneer by the hand. It is possi ble that Joseph might have walked a little faster than was good for him, considered on strictly hygenie principles. ‘You bad, naught”, wicked boy,’ I began, as soon as I had pulled him into the house, -what dc you mean by such behavior?’ ‘I corned dowD a minit to the hall door, re plied the small offender, ‘and that boy what I licked called me names, and then I runned for him, and I ketched him too, this way, mamma,’ and the buccaneer ran the length of the hall to illustrate the manner of capture. ‘Where do you think the bears are that Miss Price told you about, Joseph ?' ‘I aint faid no bears,' he replied, striking an attitude which would have done credit to a ‘Be nicia Boy.’ ‘I’d lick the bears too mamma, if they corned round here calling me names, and I wouldn't care if I didn’t have no clothes on neither.’ Wbat did I do with him? Well, his father entered at this oritioal juncture, and when I say that Joe’s father is like all the rest of the fathers, mothers will realize how difficult it would have been for me to do anything, ‘Whip him !' I'd like to see anybody do that with Mr. Smith around ! Acting upon the urgent request of numerous correspon dents, I have extended my Holiday offer for a Limited Period. Order at once, pay only after yon have fully tested the instrument at your own home. New Pia' os 3125, $185, $145 and Upwards. New Organs $159, $75, $85, 997, Ac, Latest illustrated Newspaper with much intorma tion free. Address, DANIEL F, BEaTTY, Washington, N. J. \A/ AMTCn CAN VASSER8 of intelligence w w I C> VJ and good character in Georgia MES'SR-L D. APPLETON & CO.. New York. Mon zj is made and good is accomplished in this work JOS. VAN HOLT NASH, Gen, Manager for Georgia, 44 Marietta St, Atlanta, Ua. BURNHAM’S 3ia t a3UBLiAf|i BaSm a &>i WARRANTED BEST k CHEAPEST. Also. Hi ILL! KG MACHINERY. PEICES SEDUCED APB. 20,78. T > *Tn , p/i-.'#. fjrpA. Oitt-v. Yob*. V* n ROCK DRILL N WELL BJRLH AND PROSPECTOR. The Diploma and Prize Medal awarded it at the “ Centennial ” in 1876. Ticenty-nz of theta handmachineao dered in one. day. £5* 1 '” (.cod active Agents ran elenr SI25 per week. Send fv»r Circulars and Term*. Address W. WEAVER, Fhoenixville, Pa. EPILEPSY or FITS CURED! ■ Zanesville. O., Aug. so. 187?. I Dr. Ross. Richmond. Ind.—Dear Sir: I have been per manently cured by vour treatment, for which I am tatily frrateful. During the past three years I have rccommende 1 i to others who have also been cured. No money could Chap. A Drat. ration address Db.HOSS. 513 Alain St., Richmond. Ind* 66 55 la now open, opposite Passenger Depot, Macon Georgia r}, E. E. BROWN. DR. M. W. CASE'S LIVER REMEDY BLOOD PURIFIER. TONIC & CORDIAL. This is not a patent medicine, but is prepared under the direction of Dr. M. W. Case, from hl3 favorite prescription, which in an extensive practice of over 27 years, he has found most effective in all eases of disordered liver or im pure blood. It Is ANTI-BILIOUS, It acts directly upon the liver, restoring it, when diseased, to its normal condition, and in regulating the activity of this great gland every * ” is ' * r - other organ of the system is benefited. In Blood Diseases it has no equal as a purifier. It Improves digestion and assists nature to elimi nate all impurities from the system, and while It is the cheapest medicine in the market it is also superior to all known remedies. While it is more effectual than Blue Mass,it is mild and perfectly safe, containing nothing that can in the slightest degree injure the system. It does not sicken or give pain, neither does it weaken the patient nor leave the system constipated, as most other medicines do. Ti, liivcr Complain*, Dja- J.W V UICB pepsin. Bilious Fever, Headache, Sick 11 cad ache. Water. Branh, Heart-Burn, filch Stomach, Jaundice, Colic, Vertigo, Neuralgia, Palpitation of the Heart, Female Weak ness and Irregularities, all .Skin and Blood Diseases, Worms, Fever A Agne, and Constipation of the Bowels. In small doses it is also a sure care for Chronic Diarrhoea. T akentwo or three times a day It pre vents Yellow Fever, Diphtheria, scar let Fever, Cholera and Small-fox, Tinyrr rn« TJTT Use Dr.Casc's I.lver kTT..- P Remedy and Blood YOUR QW/M Purifier, a pleasant Ton^ and Cordial. } DOCTOR Anti Bilious. It will save your doctor bills; only 25 cts. per bottle. It is the most effective and valuable medicine ever offered to the American people. As fast as its mer'ts become known its U3e becomes universal in every community. No family will he without it after having once tested its great value. It has proved an inestima ble blessing to thousands who have used it, bringing back health and strength to thooa who were seemingly at death’s door. Prepared it the Laboratory of the For Sale by Hant, Rankin A Lamar, Wholesale Agents, Atlanta, Georgia. ASTHMA CAN BE CUERD Bead the following certificates and try Dr. P R, Holt’s Aethma specific and suffer no longer: Smybna, Ga.. Sept. 15, 1878. DR. HOLT.—Dear Sir :—Your Aetbaa epecific relieved my wife in a few hours. 8eveu months afterwards she had another attack. It relieved her again in six hours, and she has not had a spell since, (nearly 1 tears). She had been subject to it for 13 years, a paroxysm lasting from3 to 5 weeks had tried a number ot Physicians and almost everything that was recon mended, but found very little benifit from either. I have recommended to it a number of persons and never knew it to fail in a single instance, when iven according to directions. From my experience with the ri medy I believe it will cure any case of Asthma, Yf u) s, REV. A. G. DEMPSEY. Adlasta, Ga„ Oct. 12, 1875. DR. P. B. HfLT.—Dear Sir:—Two years ago my wife had a severe attack of Asthma. A few doseB of yonr asthma specific relieved her. and she has not had an at tack since. Yours, JOHN CRAWFORD. Atlanta, Ga., Oct. 1st, 1878. DR. P. R. HOLT,—Dear Sir:—Your asthma specific relieved me in 21 hours of a severe attack oi Hay Fever. Yours truly, JOHN KEELY. ^-DR. P. R. HOLT, Prop., 26 Whitehall St. $^-$1.50 per Bottle. t "Po -ex'