About The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 15, 1887)
■( 1 THE SUNNY SOUTH, (irtns jof 3Tbov$ht. The Ironing Table. Irons that have once been red hot never re tain the beat s) well afterwards, and wilt al ways be rongh; therefore, while losing no op portunity in using your fire, be careful not to put them on the stove hours before they are needed; and after using them, do not set them away flat on the fl or or shelf, always stand them ou end. When it is possib'e, have every really useful modern applicance, of widen there are so man/ nowadays, to mak) work easy. Crain-Fed Pork Not Best. Old hogs fattened on corn or other grain ex clusively have very solid pork. It is, in fact, too solid for good eating, and the waste from fat that is more like rind than flesh is a greater *'■ foSTtiian the waste in cooking of younger pigs largely fed on grass, fruit and vegetables, and only finished off for the butcher by a few weeks of exclusive grain feeding in their latter days. Keeping; Parsnips. The parsnip is the only kind of root that will remain uninjured in the ground during the Winter. It is entirely below the surface, and though the root be frozen,, when thawed in contact with the soil there is no damage, but rather an improvement in the flavor. If any have been stor< d in the cellar they should be covered with soil to save them from drying and shrivelling, which will soon make them nearly worthless. Corn for Working Horses. While oats are the natural and best food for the horse, some proportion of corn with them is excellent in cold weather. The corn and oat mixture on cut hay cr straw makes a bet ter ration than oats alone. If horses are hur ried so as to have too little time for eating, com and oatmeal on moistened cut hay fills the stomach better than oats alone could do. Oats ground without corn are too light and chaffy for mixing with cut hay or straw. Tell-Tale Cornfields. At tnis season the rank dead weeds standing high among the com stubble in many fields tell a sad story of neglect during the growing sear ■on. Looking at these large weeds in winter, and calculating how much they must have de tracted from the crop, leaves greater doubt than ever whether it is good policy to depend entirely upon cultivation by horse power. It is the cheapest and best cultivation, but unless supplemented by hand hoeing, some weeds are left close to the hill where they interfere most with the growth of the corn. A very little labor with the hoe at the right time would have destroyed these weeds, now so suspicious. Milking Quality of Breeders. Farmers seldom think of the capacity for giving milk in any stock excepting cows, from which alone the milk is used by man. But there is a great difference in the capacity of sows and mares in this respect, and upon this largely depends their value as breeders. The litters of pigs from some sows will always be strong and thrifty, though the dam may look poor and scrawny enough. It is with the sow, as with the cow, the fattest, sleekest animal gives least milk and is the poorest mother. Thoroughbre d pigs are generally not good milkers, and this is one reason why grades from coarsely-built sows and a thoroughbred boar are generally better for fattening than pigs whose dam and sire wore both thorough bred. ___ Phosphate for Timothy. “People may say what they will about the impolicy of sowing phosphate on wheat at pre sent low prices. 1 know that I cannot afford to i J*..,a e^v, d oi~^Wiewd, practical fanner among a group of agriculturists who were discussing farm methods. The fact that phosphate is good for grass is well understood in New England, where it is mainly used on either turnips or grass. Thus used, phosphate is less likely to lead to exhaustion of the soil than when ap plied to grain crops, all of which are sold from the farm. All good farmers sow trass seed with the grain to which they apply phosphate. The grass thus gets at least a part of the bene fit. There is a still greater advantage from this method in the fact that phosphate insures a good oaich of grass, which fills the ground and thus represses the growth of weedsl Canada Thistles a Green Manure. Many farmers will be somewhat shocked to learn that experienced vineyardists in the grape-growing regions do not regard the Can ada thistle as an unmitigated nuisance. They use it as green manure, plowing whenever large enough, and thus keep up and ii crease the fertility of their land. Under constant cultivation the soil hot ween the rows becomes hard through exhaustion of its vegetable mat ter. Clover, the great renovator for the grain cropper, is denied to the grape grower. It re quires keeping the land too long in sod, to the detriment of the vine, before it can be plowed. With the Canada thistle, plowing while grow ing a luxuriant vegetation without sod is easily practicable. So the old question whether men get grapes from thistles may at last be an swered affirmatively, provided it is done indi rectly, and the right use of the thistle as a ma nure is made. But temperance people may object that both the Canada thistle ami alco holic liquors are good gifts of God that may well be dispensed with. Care of Horses. The horses need extra care during the Win ter. They should not be put into the stalls after having been driven through snow and mud until their legs at least have been well cleaned from all accumulations there. A wet cold, filthy mass adhering to the long hair of the fetlock, or beneath it, until it dries away or melts off from the heat of the animal, is more dangerous to the hedtb of the animal than the snow or rain that may wet his back and sides. Many a cold, cough, rheumatic lameness or severe case of thrush or “grease heel' 1 might be directly traced to this cause. If, in addition to this, the hair of the body is rubbed dry after it hits been wet with snow rain or perspiration, or what is better still, a warm dry woolen blanket is thrown over the animal, the driver will find that he is one of the “lucky ones” whose horses are always in good health, and ready alike for their feed or their work. Scaly Legs on Fowl. In the Poultry Yard. In the poultry-house there will be plenty of work every day if the fowl are to be made profitable. Feed early in the morning with a warm feed of scalded meal or wheat bran, in which should be mixed a small quantity of ground beef or fish scraps. The latter are most excellent for laying iowl, not being as fattening as the beef. Vary occasionally with boiled potatoes mashed up, or with a 1 ttie skimmed milk if it is pleuty. About noon scatter a little grain, either oats, wheat or bar ley, for them to pick up. All the better if scattered in the straw, or raked into the dirt, so that they will have to scratch to find it, and again just before dark give a feed of whole com. Two or three times a day they should have clean water, and if slightly warm it will be better for them. Keep oyster shells or bro ken bone by them all the time. The shells are much cheaper than bone, and perhaps just as good if the fowl are having meat scraps. Clean up beneath the roosts every day, and remove the accumulations, or mix them with dry earth to be used as a fertilizer next season. They are good for almost any crop but pota toes ind turnips. Have the room well ventila ted both day and night, yet, when possible, warm enough so that their water will not freeze during the day at least. It is time now to select those which are the best to breed from, and place them separately. This course will give much better chickens than the use of eggs promiscuously from the Hock. There is a great difference in different hens, and that dif ference*, whether it be in color of feather, shape of fowl or in number or size of eggs produced eui be perpetuated and improved upon by a careful selection, as much as our cows have been improved by selection of breeding stock Poultry poorly kept in filthy quarters are often affected with scaly legs. Rubbing with kerosene oil will make the legs entirely clean after a few applications. The oil applied to roosts and nests also destroys lice. But the entire renovation of the hen-house and the re moval of all filth is essential, or these evils will continually recur. Cows With Three Teats. Few people like to buy a cow that has only three teats, on account of the inconvenience in milking. This, as a one-armed man once re marked, was where he ha t the advantage of most people. He could milk a cow with three teats more quickly than one with four, and he added that this class of cows was generally superior for milk and butter. This is a fact, as the loss of a teat generally results from an excessive (low of milk, coupled with improper management. Drying-Off Cowr, 15 a cow is to drop a caif in the Spring more care will be required In drying her off than if she is to be fattened and killed. The drying off should be gradual, and several days after the daily or semi-daily milking has been sus pended, all the milk possible should he drawn from the hag. If there is a quart or more repeat the milking in two or three day’s time. Milk left In the hag is the source of much trouble when the cow comes in milk again. With good milkers it sometimes causes caked bag while the cow is being dried off. Sheep Husbandry. Sheep need but nine care tins month. Give them good hay and a few roots each day, and in dry weather let them have a run in the fields for exercise. It may not be well to allow their lieeccs to be soaked with snow, or by a cold rain, as it gives them a heavy load to carry, besides the fact that the chill may injure the weakly ones, but they need fresh air and ex ercise. The air in a well ii led sheep shed is too strongly impregnated wi h ammonia to bo the best for breathing purposes. Keep the iloor of the sheep shed well supplied with dry litter, and supply them with pure water at least twice a day. They need it as much as any other animal. They will also relish an occa sional feed of evergreen boughs, if there is snow on the ground long. Freezing Drv Soils. One of the good effects from underdraining is that it increases the depth to which frost penetrates soil, thus gradually making deeper the space in which plant roots may penetrate in search of food and moisture. This is a strong argument for making deep drains, especially on level exposed surfaces where the snow is liable to blow off. No tile is absolutely safe from frost at a less depth than three feet, though a slight touch of frost at this depth might do no harm. Drains made twenty inch es or two feet deep are often disarran ged from freezing, and but for the fact tint such drains are often in hollows where they .are protected by snow, a still larger percentage of them would be spoiled. We cannot tell by digging in undrained ground how deeply frost will pen etrate after the draining produces its full ef fects. For a number of years after a drain is made Ihe frost reaches a lower level in winters equally cold. Dry sand sometimes freezes to a depth of three and even four feet in exposed banks, it is not possible to get a clay soil so dry as sand, and this freezing makes a solid barrier of ice, through which cold air cannot penetrate. In a clay soil, unless directly over a drain, there is seldom mu:b frost below six or eight inches from the surface, and o' a sod even less fi-lowAhis, H.nne deeper, but this must he combined with thor ough under-drai ling to make the advantage permanent. Sweeping and Dusting. Sweey with a long, steady stroke, taking care to form a habit of raising the broom at the end of the stroke in such a way as to pre vent dus raisi jg. Watch some women sweep, ana J'ou wiil understand what I mean. They will work hard, and sweep as if they were dig ging; a small cloud of dust will f jllow the end of the broom every time it is raised. Be carcfrl to go nto every corner with the end of your broom, and to brush all dust from between carpet or matting and skirting board, as here is where moths love to harbor. Sweep from ail sides of the room to the centre. This swe tping to the centre instead of .be door may strike some readers as an innovation, but if they will consider a moment they will see that there is no reason whatever for dragging the dust all over the room. Sweeping toward the centre of a s xteen feet square r tom, you only sweep the dust eight feet each way, instead of carrying it before the broom the whole sixteen feet. Short, quick strokes of the broom a.*e apt to scatter the dmt, especially when the stroke ends with an upward jerk, as J have of ten seen it do when the broom is in the hands of vigorous girls who imagine they are getting over the ground much more rapidly by hurried movements than they would if they took great er pa ns. But hurry is not speedjsome women are quick and borough, others slow and thorough, but the one always hurrying it rarely either quick or ;h trough; she in ike, work all the time site is doing it. Before beginning to sweep, open such win dows as w li net interfere with the dust; I mean iter as will not. blow it about. Often pe pie thro v open every window and sweep in a sort of small whirlwind. Dust cannot go o it through a window against which the wind is blowing, therefore such a window is to be kept carefully shut, unless there is one opposite. When the sweeping is done and the dust all carefully gathered into a dustpan, then open till windows if you choose, so that a thorough draught may carry ou. the particles in the air. Failure, after long perseverance, is grander than never having a striving good enough to be called a failure.—George <Eliot. The best part of health is fine disposition. It is more essential than talent, even in the works of talent. Nothing will supply the want of sunshine to peaches, and to make knowledge valuable, you must have the cheerfulness of wisdom. Whenever you are sincerely pleased you are nourished. The joy of the spirit indi cates its strength. All healthy things are sweet tempered.—Emerson. What a delightful thing rest is! The bed has become a place of luxury to me! I would not exchange it forall the thrones in the world. —Nopokon. A curtain lecture is worth all the sermons in the world for teaching the virtue of patience and long suffering.—Washington Irving. We are not to suppose that all who take holy orders are saints; hut we should be still further from believing that all are hypocrites. There lives more faith in honest doubt, be lieve me, than in half the creeds.—Tennyson. Every body drags its shadow, and every mind its doubt.— Victor Hugo. Hope nothing fro# luck, and the probability is that you will be so prepared, so forewarned and forearmed, that all shallow observers will call you lucky.—liulwer Lytton. Alas! it is not till time, with reckless hand? has tom out half the leaves from the book of human life, to light the fires of passion with from day to day, that man begins to see that the leaves which remain are few in number.— Longfellow. Love alone is wisdom, love alone is power; and whete love seems to fall, it is where self lias stepped between and dulled the potency of its rays.—George MacDonald. Even reckoning makes lasting friends; and the way to make reckonings even is to make them often.—South. The most divine light only shineth on those minds which are purged from all worldly dross and human uncleanness.—Sir Walter Iialeigh. Mankind has a great aversion to intellectual labor.—Dr. Samuel Johnson. Both peace and war are noble or ignoble, according to their kind and occasion. No man has a profounder sense of the horror and guilt of ignoble war than i have. But peace may be sought in two ways; you may either win your peace or buy it—win it by resistance to evil—buy it by compromise with evil.—Iius- kin. I have often observed that vulgar persons, and public audiences of inferior collective in telligence, have this in common: the least thing draws off their minds when you arc speaking to them—Ilolmes. Take a walk to refresh yourself with the open air, which inspired fresh, doth exceed ingly recreate the lungs, heart and vital spirits. —Dr. W. Haney. Do not let yourself follow your desires too eagerly, even for good. What I most desire for you is a certain calmness, which comes from recollection, detachment and love of God. Occupy yourself as little as possible about ex ternal matters. Give at proper seasons a quiet, calm attention to those things assigned to your care by Providence; leave the rest. We do much more by quiet, tranquil labor in the presence of God, than by the greatest eagerness and overactivity of a restless nature. —Fenelon. “If we wish to know the force of human genius, we should read Khakspeare. If we wish to see the insignificance of human learn ing, we may study his commentators.’’—Ilaz- litt. Don’t waste life in doubts and fears; spend yourself on the work before you, well assured that the right performance of this hour s du ties will be the best preparation for the hours or ages that follow it.’’—Emerson. f ' ' ATLANTA? GA„ SATURDAY 1 | Ol/RPlfLPIT s r MORNING! JANUARY 15, 1887. TALMAGE’S SERMON. 3t reached in the Brooklyn Taber nacle. The Longevity of the Patriarchs. His text was Genesis, chapter 47, verse 8: “How old art thou?” The preacher said: Curious l*acts. A seco Vittpsi.u “Cramming.” For several years past an energetic warfare lias been waged by those interested in the edu cation of youth against the system of “cram ming” which at onetime obtained so generally in the public and private schools of this coun try. That some benefits has resulted from these efforts, is true, but, unfortunately for the cause, the greater number of those who ad vance the theory hat whatever is taught should he well learned by the scholar are not always ready to practice what they preach. As a consequence, we see children of tender years compelled to perform feats of study which would make an average grown person stand back aghast if the same tasks were assign ed him for performance. The number of text books has been so increased of late in our public schools that the pupils are obliged to resort to patent contrivances in order to bind them securely together for convenience and safety in carriage. If the present tendency to increase the volume of studies is not restrained the educational boards will be forced to pro vide light wagons to express the books of the scholars to and from school, else the little ones will be found fainting by the wayside under their burdens. The evil is one that demands something else than the strictures of scientists, like Herbert Spencer, who sensibly disapproves of teaching pupils more than their minds can comprehend. It requires a concerted effort on the part of parents, who should demand that their chil dren be not taxed beyond their capacity. Such a demand, marked by earnestness, would not he disregarded by the gentlemen who reg ulate these affairs! Until it is made, the pres ent plan of forcing will be continued; children will be compelled to remain in school a greater number of hours than they ought, and when they are permitted to leave, it will not be to play, but to make themselves ready for the coming day, a necessity which the present system involves. Under the circumstances there is small room for wonder that so many instances of premature brilliancy are found al lied to sickly constitutions. It is the inevitable result of all study and no play, and there is little hope that it will be otherwise unless a radical change is made in the present mode of teaching the young. Bed clothing manufactured from paper pulp, strengthened with twine, is one of the latest novelties. Lawrence has a larger Irish population than any city in the country in proportion to the number of its inhabitants. Fall River comes second and Boston third. Dr. .1. Strahan utters a eaation against lung- continued dosing with mixtures of iron, main taining that there is danger of intestinal con cretions being formed. second fatal case of poisoning by iodide of; recently been reported by Dr-i, , z - me uose lasen was orny about thirty grains in tit rty-six hoars. A window open a slight distance at both top and bottom, and a chimney draught also open, arc the only sure ways of keeping pure air in a sleeping-room whose doors are closed. Question for beginners in arithmetic—How can live persons divide five eggs so that each man will receive one, and still one remain in the dish? Answer—One takes the dish with the egg. A newly discovered Mexican flower is quite a wonder, if reports are true. It is said to be white in the morning, red at noon and blue at night; and is further credited with emitting perfume only at the middle of the day. It grows on a tree of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec. Some Pacific coast statistician lias figured out that if the Chinese nation was to pass be fore an observer in single file tli§ procession woultl never cease, for 4 new generation would be coming on the stage as fast as the proces sion moved, which, in t,he estimation of the San Francisco Call, is an argument in favor of restricting Chinese immigration. The Kennebec Journal notices as one of the phenomena of the season, a willow tree grow ing on the river hank at the mouth of the sew er leading from Allen’s building in Augusta. The tree in common with other willows shed its leaves, but recently a second growth of foliage has appeared, and the leaves are as green and succulent as in June. This second growth has been forced by the steam and warmth emanating from the sewer keeping the tree in a warm climate, so to speak. The theory of Dr. Wilson of Meriden, that >he burning of kerosene oil has something t> do with diptheria, is interesting. There were seventy-one deaths from diptheria in a town of -Meriden in one year, and by personal investi gation Dr. Wilson found that in every case the family used kerosene lamps. ’There were many other cases in Meriden that year, the spread of the disease being from contagion. But not in a single case where gas or candles were used w as there a death from that disease.— -Veto Haven Journal. historical. In arranging new regiments at Cambridge, late in 177?'», Col. Asa Whitcomb, a meritori ous officer who iiad served in the late French and Indian war, was left out on account of his age. Ilis men were indignant, and refused to reenlist. The colonel, to set them an exam ple, himself enlisted jus a private soldier. Women did not appear upon the stJige in England till the Stuarts were restored to the English throne. Charles II, is supposed to have brought the usage from the Continent, where women had long been employed instead of boys or youths in representation of female characters. The old Roman custom of law that an enemy who had come to another country, even in times of peace, could, if war broke out, be en slaved, existed in Europe in the Middle Ages, and the enslavement ot prisoners did not cease till the middle of the seventeenth century, the treatise in that century stipulating that pris oners should not be sent by their captors to the galleys. Under the early German custom all sins and errors.of the wife were severely punished. The husband could be faithless without redress. He could send her away, provided he gave her a dower as large as the original one, and paid a line to the king; he might abandon his home provided he took nothing with him. If she left him without good reason she might be suf focated in a ditch. The site of Chicago was a favorite rendez vous for several tribes of Indians in Summer. Its name signifies, in the Pottawatomie tongue, wild onion, or a polecat, both of which abound ed in that region. Of the skin of the pole cat the Indians made tobacco pouches. The spot was first visited by Marquette, a French Jesuit missionary, in 1G73, who encamped there in the Winter of 1074-75. In the middle ages there were two chances of life at the last moment accorded to a male factor condemned to death besides a free par don from the sovereign. One of these was the accidental meeting of a cardinal with the procession to execution; the other was the of fer of a maiden to marry the condemned man, or in the case of a woman sentenced to death, the offer of a man to make her kis wife. The Egyptian capital was the focus of the world’s wealth. In ships and barges there had been brought to it from India frankincense, and cinnamon, and ivory, and diamonds; from the North, marble and iron; from Syria, pur ple and silk; from Greece, some of the finest horses of the world, and some of the most brilliant chariots; and from all the earth that which could best please the eye, and charm the ear and gratify the taste. There were temples aflame with red sandstone, entered by the gateways-t,hat were guarded by pillars be wildering with hieroglyphics, aLd wound with brazen serpents, and adorned with winded creatures—their eyes, and beaks, and pinions glittering with precious stones. There were marble columns blooming into white flower beds; there were stone pillars, at the top burst ing into the shape of the lotus when in full bloom. Along the avenues, lined with sphinx, and fane, and obelisk, there were princes who came in gorgeously-upholstered palanquin, carried by servants in scarlet, or elsewhere drawn by vehicles, the snow-white horses, golden-bitted and six abreast, dashing at full run. There were fountains from stone-wreath ed vases climbing the ladders of the light. You would hear a bolt she ve, and a door of brass would open iike a flash of the sun. The sur rounding gardens were saturated with odors that mounted the terrace, and dripped from the arbors, and burned their incense in the Egyptian noon. On floors of mosaic the glories of 1’haraoh were spelled out in letters of porphyry, and beryl, and flame. There were ornaments twisted from the wood of tama- risk, embossed with silver breaking into foam. There were footstools made out of a single precious stone. There were beds fashioned out of a crouched lion in bronze. There were chairs spotte 1 with the sleek hides of leopards. There were sofas footed with the claws of wild beas a, and armed with the beaks of birds. As you stand on the level beach of the sea on a summer day, and look either way, and there are miles of breakers, white with the ocean foam, dashing shoreward; so it seemed as if the sea of the world’s pomp and wealth in the Egyptian capital for miles and miles, Hung it self up into breakers of marble temple, mauso leum and obelisk. It was to this capital and the palace of Pha raoh that Jacob, the plain shepherd, came to meet his son Joseph, who had become prime minister in the royal apartment. Pharaoh and Jacob meet, dignity and rusticity; the grace fulness of the court and the plain manners of the field. The king, wanting to make the old countryman at ease, and seeing how white his beard is and how feeble his step, looks famil iarly into his Rice and says to the old man: “How old art thou?” Night before bust the gate of eternity opened to let in, amid the great throng of departed centuries, the soul of the dying year. Under the twelfth stroke of the brazen hammer of the city clock, the patriarch fell dead, and the stars of the night were the funeral torches. It is most fortunate that on this road of life there are so many milestones, mi which we can read ju-t how fast r e are g«i •«'„ i->yprdy the jour ney's end. 1 L ‘ your faces, and say, as P!.arao|i did to Jacobi the patriarch: “How old art thou?” People who are truthful on every other sub ject, lie about their ages, so that I do not so licit from you any literal response to the ques tion I have asked. I would put no one under temptation; but I simply want, this morning, to see by what rod P is we are measuring bur earthly existence. There is a right way and a wrong way of measuring a door, or a wall,or an arch, or a tower, and so there is a right way and a wrong way of measuring our earthly existence. It is with reference to this higher meaning that I confront you, this morning, with the stupendous question of the text, ami ask, “How old art thou?” There are many who estimate their life by mere worldly gratification. When Lord Dun- das was wished a happy New Year, he said: “It will have to be a happier year than the past, for I hadn’t one happy moment in all the twelve months that have gone." But that has not been the experience of most of us. We have found that, though the world is blasted with sin, it is a very bright and beautiful place to reside in. We have had joys innu merable. There is no hostility between the gospel and the merriments and the festivities of life. 1 do not think that we fully enough appreciate the worldlj pleasures God gives us. When you recount your enjoyments, you do not go far enough back. Why do you not go bjick to the time when you were an infant in your mother’s arms, looking up into the heaven of her smile; to those days when you filled the house with the uproar of boisterous merriment; when you shouted as you pitched the ball on the play ground; when, o:i the cold, sharp, winter night, muffled up on skates, you shot out over the resounding ice of the pond? Have you forgot ten all those good days that the Lord gave you? Were you never a boy? W»*re you never a girl? Between those times and this, how many mercies, how many kindnesses the Lord has bestowed upon you! How many joys have breathed up to you from the flowers, and shone down to you from the stars, and chanted to you with the voice of so ’.ring bird, and tum bling cascade, and booming sea, and thunders th;it with bayonets of fire charged down the mountain side! Joy! Joy! Joy! If there is any one who has a right to the enjoyments of the world it is the Christian, for God has given him a lease to everything in the promise: “All are yours.” But 1 have to tell you that a man who estimates his life on earth by mere worldly gratification is a most unwise man. (>ur life is not to he a game of chess. It is not a dance in lighted hall to quick music. It is not the froth of an ale pitcher. It is not the settling of a wine cup. It is not a banquet with intox ication and roystering. It is the first step on a ladder that mounts into the skies, or the first step on a road that plunges into a horrible abyss. So that in this world we are only key ing up the harp of a rapture or forging the cluiin of a bondage. And standing before you to-day, with life on the one side and death on the other, song on the one side and groaning on the other, mansions on the one side and dungeons on the other, Heaven on the one side and liell on the othei, I put to you the ques tion of the text: “How old art thou?” To wards what destiny are you tending, and how fast are you getting on towards it? Again, I remark that there are many who estimate their life on earth by their sorrows and their misfortunes. Through a great many of your lives the plowshare hath gone very deep, turning up a terrible furrow. You have been betrayed and misrepresented, and set upon, and slapped of impertinence, and pound ed of misfortune. The brightest life must have its shadows and the smoothest path its thorns. On the happiest brood the hawk pounces. No escape from trouble of some kind. While glo rious John Milton was losing his eyesight, he heard that Salmasius was glad of it. While Sheridan’s comedy was being enacted in Drury Lane theatre, Cumberland, his enemy sat growling at it in the stage-box. While Bishop Cooper was surrounded by the fa vor of learned men, his wife took his lexicon manuscript, the result of a long life of anxiety and toil, and threw it into tue fire. Misfortune, trial, vexation for almost evermore. Pope, applauded of all the world, has a stoop in the shoulder that annoys him so much that he has a tunnel dug, so that he may go, unobserved, from garden to grotto, and from grotto to garden. Cano, the famous Spanish artist, is disgusted with the crucifix that the priest holds before him, because it is such s poor specimen of sculpture. And so, sometimes through taste, and sometimes through learned menace, and sometimes through physical distresses, aye, in ten thou sand ways, trouble gomes to harass and annoy. And yet it is unfair to measure a man’s life by his misfortunes, because where there is one stalk of nightshade, there are fifty marigolds and harebells; where there is one cloud thun der charged there are hundreds that stray across the heavens, the glory of land and sky asleep in their bosom. Because death came and took your child away did you immediately forget all the five years, or the ten years, or the fifteen years in which she came every night for a kiss, all the tones of your heart pealing forth at the sound of her voice or the soft touch of her hand? Because in some financial euroclydon your fortune went into the breakers, did you forget all those years in which the luxuries and extravagances of life showered on your pathway ? Alas! that is an unwise man, an ungrateful man, an unfair man, an unphilosophic man, and, most of all, an unchristian man, who measures his life on earth by groans, and tears, and dyspeptic fit, and abuse, and scorn, and terror, and neural gic thrust. Again: I remark that there are many peo ple who estimate their life on earth by the amount of money they have accumulated. They say; “The year lHfifi, or 187G, or 188(5 was waited.” Why ? Made no money. Now, it is all cant and insincerity to talk against money as though it had no value. It is refine ment, and education, and ten thousand blessed surroundings. It is the spreading of the table that feeds your children’s hunger. It is the 1 ghting of the furnace that keeps you warm. It is the making of the bed on which you rest, from care and anxiety. It is the carrying out at last of you to decent sepulture, and the put ting up of the slab on which is chisselled the story of your Christian hope. It is simply hypocrisy, this tirade in pulpit and lecture-hall, against money, as though it had no use. It is hands, and feet, and sails, and ten thousand grand and glorious enterprises. But while all this is so he who uses money, or thinks of money as anything but a means to an end, will find out his mistake, when the glittering treas ures slip out of his nerveless grasp, and he goes out of this world without a shilling of money or a certificate of stock. He might bet ter have been the Christian porter that opened his gate, or the begrimmed workman, who last night heaved the coal into his cellar. Bonds and mortgages, and leases have their uses, but they make a poor yard stick w ith which to measure life. They that boast themselves in their wealth, and trust on the multitude of their riches, none of them can, by any means, redeem bis brother, nor give to God a ransom for him, that he should not see corruption. “Wise men die, likewise, the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others.” But I remark: There are many—I wish there were more—who estimate their life by their moral and spiritual development. It is not sinful egotism for a Christian man to say, “I am purer than I used to be; I am more con secrated to Christ than I used to be; I have got over a great many bad habits in which I used to indulge; I am a great deal better man than I used to be.” There is no sinful egotism in that. It is not base egotism for a soldier to say, “I know more about military tactics than 1 used to, before I took a musket in my band and learned to ‘present arms,’ and when I was a pest to the drill officer.” It is not base ego tism for a sailor to say, “I know how better to clew down the mizzen topsail, than I used to before I had ever seen a ship.” And there is no sinful egotism when a Christian man, fight ing the battles of the Lord, or, if you will have it, voyaging towards a haven of eternal rest, says: “I know more about spiritual tac tics, and about voyaging towards heaven, than I used to.” Why, there are those in this presence who have measured lances with ma ny a foe, and unhorsed it. There are Chris tian men here, who have become swarthy by hammering at the forge of calamity. They stand on an entirely different plane of charac ter from that which they once occupied. They are measuring their life on earth by golden gated Sabbaths, by pentecostal prayer-meet ings, by communion tables, by baptismal fouts, by hallelujahs in the temple. They have stood on Sinai and heard it thunder. They have stood on I’isgah and looked over into the promised land. They have stood on Calvary and seen the cross bleed. They can, like l’aul the apostle, write on their heaviest troubles “light,” and “but for a moment.” The darkest night their soul is irradiated, as was the night over Bethlehem, by the faces of those who have come to proclaim glory and good cheer. They are only waiting for the gate to open, and the chains to fall off, and the glory to begin. I. remark .vriin There arr* i °ny (nod I vi^1 iere ^ ^uinre) who aiw “-,«ur‘l ~?y T„aiS do and the worldly way of measuring it. I leave it to you to say which is the wisest and best way. The wheel of time has turned very swiftly and it has hurled us on. The old year has gone. The new year has come. For what you and I have been launched upon it, God only knows. Now let me ask you all: Have you made any preparation for the future? You have made preparation for time, my dear brother; have you made any preparation for eternity? Do you wonder that when that man on the Hud son river, in indignation, tore up the tract which was handed to him, and just one word landed on his coat sleeve—the rest of the tract being pitched into the river—that one word aroused his soul? It was that one word, so long, so broad, so high, so deep, eternity! A dying woman, in her last moments, said “Call it back!” They said: “What do you want?” “Time,” she said; “call it back!” Oh! it cannot, be called back! We might lose our fortunes and call them back; we might lose our health and perhaps recover it; we might lose our good name and get that back; but time gone is gone forever. Some of you, during the past year, made preparation for eternity; and it makes no dif ference to you really, as to the matter of safe ty, whether you go now or go some other year— whether this year or the next year. Both your feet on the rock, the waves may dash around you. You can say: “God is our refuge and strength—a very present help.” You are on the rock, and you may defy ail earth and hell to overthrow you. I congratulate you. I give you great joy. It is a happy New Year to you. I can see no sorrow at ail in the fact that our years are going. You hear some people say : “I wish I could go back to boyhood.” 1 would not want to go back again to boyhood. I am afraid I might make a worse life out of it than I have made. You could not afford to go back to boyhood if it were possible. You might do a great deal worse than you have done. The past is gone! Look out for the future! To all Christians it is a time of gladness. I )IEDMONT AIR LINE ROUTE. RICHMOND & DANV LLE R. R CO. A. A C. A L. DIVISION. ■vy ..no ouTount iT goou they UaO do. John Bradford said he counted thatfday nothing at all in which he had not, by ijen or tongue, done some good. If a man begins right, I cannot tell how many tears he may wipe away, how many burdens he may lift, liow many or phans he may comfort, how many outcasts he may reclaim. There have been men who have given their whole life in the right direction, concentrating all their wit and ingenuity and mental acumen and physical force and enthu siasm for Christ. They climbed the mountain and delved into the mine, and crossed the sea, and trudged the desert, and dropped at last, into martyrs’ graves, waiting for ’he resurrec tion of the just. They measured their lives by the chains they broke off, by the garments they put upon nakedness, by the miles they travelled to alleviate every kind of suffering. They felt in the thrill of ev ery nerve, in the motion of every muscle, in every throb of their heart, in every respiration of their lungs, the magnificent truth: “No man liveth lor himself.” They went through cold and through heat, foot- blistered, clieek-smitten, back-scourged, tem- pest-laslied to do their whole duty. That is the way they measured life—by the amount of good they could do. Do you want to know how old Luther was, how old Richard Baxter was, how old Phillip Doddridge was? Why, you cannot calculate the length of their lives by any human arithmetic. Add to their lives ten thousand times ten thousand years, and you have not expressed it—what they have lived or will live. < >. what a standard that is to measure a man’s life by! There are those in this house who think they have only lived thirty years. They will have lived a thousand —they have lived a thousand. There are those who think thej' are eighty years of age. They have not even entered upon their in fancy, for one must become a babe in Christ to begin at all. Now, I do not know what your advantages or disadvantages are; 1 do not know what your tact or talent is; I do not know what may be the fascination of your manners or the repulsiveness of them, but. I know this: there is for you, my hearer, a field to culture, a harvest to reap, a tear to wipe away, a soul 'to save. If you have worldly means, conse crate them to Christ. If you have eloquence, use it on the side that Paul and Wilberforce used theirs. If you have learning, put it all into the poor-box of the world’s suffering. But if you have none of these—neither wealth, nor eloquence, nor learning—you, at any rate, have a sinile with which you can encourage the disheartened; a frown with which you may blast injustice; a voice with which you may call the wanderer back to God. “O,” you say, “that is a very sanctimonious view of life!” It is not. It is the only bright view of life, and it is the only bright view of death. Contrast the death scene of a man who has measured life by the worldly standard, with the death scene of a man who has measured life by the Christian standard. Quinn, the actor, in his last moment said: “1 hope this tragic scene will soon be over, and I hope to keep my dignity to the last.” Malherbe said in his last moments to the confessor: “Hold your tongue! Your miserable style puts me out of conceit with heaven.” Lord Chester field, in his last moments, when he ought to have been praying for his soul, bothered him self about the proprieties of the sick room, and said: “Give Day boles a chair.” Godfrey Kneller spent his last hours on earth in draw ing a diagram of his own monument. Com pare the silly and horrible departure of such men with the seraphic glow on the face of Ed ward l’ayson, as he said in his last moment: “ The breezes of heaven fan me. I float in a sea of glory.” Or, with Paul, the apostle, who said in his last |hour: “I am now ready to be offered up, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the good fight, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me.” Or compare it with the Christian death-bed that you witness ed in your own household. Oh! my friends, this world is a false god! It will consume you with the blaze in which it accepts your sacri fices, while the righteous shall be held in ever lasting remembrance; and when the thrones have fallen, and the monuments have crum bled, and the world has perished, they shall banquet with the conquerors of earth and the hierarchs of Heaven. This is a good day in which to begin a new style of measurement How old art thou? You set the Christian way of measuring life am glad the years are going. You are coining on nearer home. Let your countenance light up with the thought. Nearer home. Now, when one can sooner get to the centre of things, is he not to be congratulated? Who wants to be always in the freshman class? We study God in this world by the biblical photo graph of Him, but we all know we can in five minutes of interview with a friend get more accurate idea of him than we can by studying him fifty years through pictures or words. The little child that died at six months of age knows more of God than all Andover, and all 1’iinceton, and all New Brunswick, and all Edinburgh, and all the theological institutions in Christendom. It is not better to go up to the very headquarters of knowledge? Does not our common sense teach us that it is better to be at the center than to be clear out on the rim of the wheel, holding nervously fast to the tire lest we be suddenly hurled into light-and eternal felicity? Through all kinds of optical instruments trying to peer in through the cracks and the keyholes of heaven—afraid that both doors of the celestial mansion will be swung wide open before our entranced vision —rushing about among the apothecary shops of this tforld, wondering if this is good for rheumatism, and that is good for neuralgia, and something else is good for a bad cough, lest we suddenly be ushered into a land of everlasting health, where the inhabitant never says, “I am sick.” What fools we all are to prefer the circum ference to the center. What a dreadful thing it would be if we should be suddenly ushered from this wintry world into the Maytime or chards of heaven, and if our pauperism of sin and sorrow should be suddenly broken up by a presentation of an emperor’s castle, sur rounded by parks with sprinkling fountains and paths, up and down which angels of God w«ilk two and two. We are like persons standing on the cold steps of the National picture gallery in Lon don, under umbrellas in the rain, afraid to go in amid the Turners, and the Titans and the Raphaels. I come to them and say: “Why don’t you go inside the gallery?” they say, “we don’t know whether we can get in!” Isay: “Don’t you see the door is open?” “Yes,” they say, “but we have been so long on these cold steps, we are so attached to them we don’t like to leave.” “But,” I say, “it is so much brighter and beautiful in the gallery, you had better go in.” “No,” they say, “we know' exactly how it is out here, but we don’t know how it is in there.” O, let us be glad that we are one year nearer the scene th;it explains all, and irradiates all! In 1K55 the French resolved that at Ghent they would have a kind of musical demon stration that had never been heard of. It would be made up of the chimes of bells and the discharge < f cannon. The experiment was - a t^rfect *.ucc <*%".• -AVhiit the rim. ing of, city trembled, and the hills shook with the triumphal march that was as strange as it was overwhelming! With a more glorious accom paniment, will God’s dear children go into their high residence, when the trumpets shall sound and the last day has come. At the sig nal given, the bells of the towers, and of the lighthouses, and of the cities, will strike their sweetness into a last chime that shall ring into tl»e heavens and float off upon the sea, joined by the boom of bursting mine and magazine, augmented by all the cathedral towers of heaven—the harmonies of earth and the sym phonies of the celestial realm making up one great triumphal march, lit to celebrate the as cent of the redeemed to where they shall shine as the stars forever and forever. ’ With such anticipations we can look back without a sin gle regret upon the flying years, and forward witli exultation to the time when the archan gel, with one foot on the sea and the other foot on the land, shall swear by Him that liveth forever and ever that time shall be no Schedule In effect Nor. 14th, Exorees. 1886. N.63. Leave Atlanta (city time) .... . 7 40 -m 41 Atlanta (R. & D. time) 8 40 am Arrive Charlotte ® j® P m 44 Danville H 2!!P™ 44 Lynch bar* ZOO im “ CnarlottesvUle 4 JO am 44 Washington 8 10 am 44 Baltimore JJJ®* “ Philadelphia 44 New Tort 3 20 pm 44 Boston.....— —~ • • 1° 3® I’m Leave Danville 44 Richmond —... 6 30 am 44 Norfolk 12 20 n’n Leave Atlanta Arrive Sparransburet..—— Arrive Hendeis^nville “ Asheville......— —••• LULA ACCOMMODATION, Dull/ except Sunday. Leave Atlanta (city time). Arrive Gainesville (city time).— — Arrive Lula (ci.y time) •••• BKTURNINO. Leave Lula (city time).............. Leave Gainesville (cliy time). —~— Arrive Atlanta (city time) ATLANTA TO ATHENE VIA NORTHEASTERN RAILROAD. Dally except Sunday. No £3. N» 51. Leave Atlanta (city time)..._ 7 40 am 4 30 pm Arrive ALbens (city time) ...._.ll 50 am 9 oo pm Dally except Sunday. N o. 50. N •• 52. Leave Athens (city lime) 6 20 am 2 15 pm Arrive Atlanta (city time) 10 40 am 9 40 pm BERKELY, JAS L TAYLOR, Superintendent. Gen. Pass. Agt., Atlanta, Ga. Washington. D C. C W. CHKARS C. B SERGEANT, Ass’t. Gen. Pass. Agt., Atlanta, Ga. 1 45 pm 2 45 pm 12 55 am 6 oo am 8 50 am 11 05 am 3 30 um 4 48 pm 7 17 pm 9 50 am 300 pm 6 25 am II 33 am 7 30 pm 7 40 am 3 43 pm 7 00 pm 8 oo pm 4 30 pm ... 6 33 pm -...6 56 pm ... 5 40 am ..... 6 05 am .... 8 25 am E AST AND WEST K. R. OF ALABAMA. CHANGE OF SCHEDULE. On and after . Nov. 7th, 1886, passenger trains will in a* follows: No. 1.—Daily passenger train going west Leave Cartersviile 9 50 am “ bock mart... H 3 m “ Cedartown 12 1 5 oio “ Cross Plains 1 TV Arrive Broken Arrow B 2 i pill No. 2.—Daily Passenger Trt in going East Loavro Broken M-row 8 10 Arriv© Cross Plains 9 5» < ’eda; rowu 12 1 pm “ Itocknmrt 12’8 pin “ Cartersvil e 2 No. 8.—Accommodation. Goirg Weotr (Daily except Sunday.) Leave Cartersviile 8 3 pm “ Kockmart ?. 10 pm Arrive Cedartown 6 10 pm No. 4.—Accommodation. Going East. (Dai:y except Sunday.) Leave Cedartown 6 ?0 vm “ Bockrnart 7 28 «n Arrive Catersville 9 i-o am No. 4 makes close connections at Hockmart with E. T. V. & G. trrin reaching Atlanta 9:40 a- m., and aJCarterBville with W, & A. train reaching Atlanta No. 8 makes direct connection t Cartersviile with W. & A, train leaving Atlanta at 1:80 p. m. and with F T. V. A G train at Kockmart leaving Atlanta at 4:20 p. m. No. 1 makes connection at Cartersviile with W. A \. train leaving Atlanta 7 50 a. m., and with Rom< Express from the North. No. 2 connects at Cartersviile with W. A A trai reaching Atlanta at 6*87 p. m. FRED M. WILCOX, T. J. NICHOLL. Gen. Pass. Agent. Geu. fan age* ’yy ANTED EMIGRANTS WHO COTTM PLATE MOVING WEST TO E210W THAT THS GEORGIA PACIFIC RAILWAY TEXAS AIR-LIES VIA Birmingham, ala., i th« ■hortest. qnickMt and beat route MISSISSIPPI, LOUSISANA, ARKANSAS, TEXAS AND THE WEST AND NORTH-WEST WRITE FOR LOW EMIGRANT RATES. Correct map of any of the western states furnished free upon application to fcHM B. WFBB, t’assenRer Ag’t. ) . . ALEX 8 THWEATTrav. Pas. Ag t. f Atlanta. GEO. S. BAKNUA1, General Passenger Ag’t. Birmingham Ala T ong< r. liaiIroa&£. RAILROAD TIME TABLE Ga. of all iminsfron HE 8T. LOUIS, ARKANSAS A TEX kU R’t. “cotton belt koute ” ST ANDARD GCAGE BY 8fc.PT. 1. 1886. The now through linehetv an tbp BeetRoute to all points in EASTERN ARKANSAS— AND SOUTHERN, EASTERN AND CENTRAL TEXAS. The Eqnipment was built by the Pullman Company .8 all new and elegant. Pullu an Palace Sleepers Pull, man Parlor Cars and Day Coachea. S : wcially good accommodations for all classes of travel. Low rate* and round trip tickets to all principal point 8 . For mape, time tablee, Ac., «fcc., apply to any agent of the ( orrpany or to A. S. DODGE, j. s. LEITH Ger. 1 Pass. Ag’t, Southern Pass. /’ * Texarkana. Tex Nashvilieftbenr IHE FLORIDA SHORT LINE. EAST TENN., VaTaND GA. RAILROAD. GEORGIA DIVISION. QTHREE DAILY FAST TRAINS. 1 following schedule In effect Nov. 14.1886. No. is NoTkl n rr Ex i r*-ss. Leav Atlanta.... 6 oo am Mail. Cannon Ba i Arrive Macon... 9 25 ira L-ave Macon— 9 30 am Arrive Jesup— 3 15 am L»»ave Jesup 3 30 am ArrDe Waycross 5 < 0 am “ Cullahan . 6 50 am “ J’cks’ville 7 30 am 3 30 pm 6 t o pm 7 05 pm 1 (5 am 1 15 am 2 45 am 4 30 am € 10 EAST TENNESSEE, VIRGINIA & GEORGIA li B Ne York 14 North N< ♦Cin. & Me Ex from North, No 11 1155pm Day Express from North No. 13 4 00 p m *Day Ex from Savannah and Riunswiek, No 1C 5 35pm ♦Day E: and \V.> ♦Day Ex North t No 14 12 15pn ress Phil. & N 12 G 15 an ♦New York Lim. Nortl N. Y. Phila. etc No. It 5 40pn ♦Cannon Ball South foi SVh & Fla. No 15 9 15 an ♦East Express South for iS vh&Fla. No. 13 500 p. central railroad. ARRIVE. j DEPART. »m Savannah* 12 15 am I To Savannah* 2 25 an. Bam’sv’U* 7 40 a ■ | To Macon* - T ,.- 200pm 4 Macon* 1(5 pm I To Savannah* G 50pn. * Savannah*. 7 30 p | To Barne^vule*.. 5 15pm V/ FSTEKN AND aTL v NT(C RAlLROAIL un j To Chattanooga* 7 50 an im | To Chattanooga* 1 4i>pn 44 Rome 11 05 am To Rome ... 3 45pm 44 Chatago*.. 7 25 am | To Marietta. . 4 4" pm 44 Chataga*.. 1 44 pin To Chattanooga* 5 r 0pir * 4 Chatawa*.. 6 1-5 i n | To Chattanooga* 12 30 pm ATLANTA AND WEST POiNT KAILKOaD. From M’tgo’ery* “ M’tgo’ery* La* range* | To Montgo’ery* 1 25 pm To Montgo’eiy* 12 20ar I To Lagrange*.... 5 05pi From Augusta* GEORGIA RAILROAD. To Augusta*.... 8 00s Covington. 7 55 am | To Decatu Decatur... 10 15 am I To Clarkston.... 12 10 pm Augusta*.. 1 00pm | To Augusta* 2 45pm 12 00 nPt 3 20 am 3 25 am 8 25 am 8 35 am o 50 am 11 27 am 12 00 q’q 11 55 am ine last man mm .ue Otu non B.-.u cairv sleepers through to J a'Ksonvfllf*. This schedule places os beyond competition ard we acki.owledge no com petitor for Florida business. We are 44 and lie miles nearer than any other iioe, aud the only lint) running solid trains ATLANTA TO JACKSONVILLE. E’or further information, write to or call on S. C. KAY, Pass. Al'T. THA D C. SI URGIS Chaiiotte, N. C. Atlanta, Gj. L J. ELLIS, A. G. P. A. B. W. WRENN, A.P. A. JACK W. JOHNSON, T.A..Atlanta Ga. rilHE GEORGIA RAILROAD. JL GEOKOIA BAILKOAD COMPANY, Office General Manager, Augusta, Ga., Sept. 18,1886. nmencmg Sunday, 19 proximo, the following Trains chedulewill be operated: n by 90th meridian time. FAST LINE. NO. 27 WEST-DAILY. I NO. 28 EAST-DAILY. L ve Augusta 7 45am L’ve Atlanta 2 45pm L ye \V ashir.gton. 7 20*tm | “ Gainesville.5 55sm ♦* Athens __ 7 45am j Ar. Athens ... 7 4o;»m Gainesville 5 5oam I Ar. Washington. .7 35t m Ar. Atlanta .1 00pm I “ Augusta x iRnm ' RICHMOND AND DiNVlLLL RAILROAD, rom Lula ... 8 25 am | To Charlotte*... 7 40 am 44 Charlotte* 10 40 pm I To Lula ........... 4 30pm ** Charlotte* 9 40 pm | To Charlotte*... 145pm Georgia pacific Railway. From Bir’g’m*.. 720am I To Birmiug’m*. 1040am 44 Bir’g’iu*.. 4 40 p • | To Birming’m*. 4 30pm Augusta 8 15pm DAY PASSENGER TRAINS. NO. 2 EAST-DAILY. | NO. 1 WEST-DAILY. .’ye Augusta .. .10 50am Macon 7 10am Miliedgeville.9 38am Washington.il 20am 9 00am 8 25pm Atlanta 8 00am A.r. Gainesville....8 25pm 44 Athens 5 30pm 44 Washington....2 20pm 44 M11 ledgevil]e...4 43pm 44 Macon 6 15pm 44 Augusta 3 35pm 44 Athene... „ Ar. Rain®,villa. Atlanta .5 45pm SOHKDULK THE GEORGIA PACIFIC RAILWAY THE GREAT DOUBLE DAILT FAST MAIL AND BX- PRESS LINE TO THE SOUTHWEST AND WEST. No change of cars at the Mississippi river. 14 HOURS QUICKEST ROUTE TEXAS AND THE WEST. IN ELEGANT THKOUGHFARE CABS. The Great Shreveport Route comes to the front with the fasteet schedule from Allan* a to ibe west. Look at the map of the United States and you will see that the shortest line is via Birmingham to all points In the west. See that your tickets read from Atlanta via Geor- gla Pacific railway. Here are the figures. Schedule iu tfleci Nov.13tu,lS86 Leave Allant..... Arrive Meridian 44 Jacksoo “ VlcksDurg 44 Shreveport..... 44 Dallas - - 44 Ft Worth Leave Meridian Arrive New Orleans.. 44 Houston. 0.32. li 40 am ll 15 pm 4 22 am ...... 660am ~— 4 22 pm .610 am ...... 8 40 am ..... ll 30 pm No. 60. 4 30 pm 6 AJ am Mann Boudoir cars, Atlanta to New Orleans and Shreveport without change. Solid trains «i»min». bsm to New Orleans and Shreveport. Write for low rates. B. F. WYLY. JB , SAM. B. WEBB, General Agent, Gen. Pass. Agent Atlanta, Ga. A. 8. THWEATT GKO. 8. BAKNUM, *• r -A-. . GetL Fast. Agent NIGHT EXPRESS AND MAIL. , NO 4 EAST-DAILY. | NO. 3 WEST-DAILY. L ve Atlanta 7 30pm L’ve Augusta.....™ 9 40nm Ar. Augusta 5 00am | Ar. Atlanta 6 scam COVINGTON ACCOMMODATION. L’veAtlanta......6 10pm Decatur ™....6 46pm L’ve Covington.. Decatur... Ar. Covington....8 30pm | Ar. Atlanta...™! T M.” DECATUR TRAIN. .. . (Daily except Sunday.) L ve Atlanta 9 00am L’ve Decatur 9 45am Ar. Decatur 9 30am I Ar. Atlanta _«lo l£S ., . CLARKSTON TRAIN. L ,T e “mta 12 00pm I L’ve Clarkston 1 23 D m ^.oKsss-'iiaii;. isss—jS reldTlih'S^^stetor. 11 ' i, “ i * n * led ’ ■*»«> No connection for Gainesville on Sundays Tram No. 27 wilt stop at and receive - - *» and from the following stations only GrovetoSSTn.™ lem, Dearing ThomaeS, Norwood”&£S$^!5r vtUe, Union Point, Greeneeboro, MadiW. ftathnteT ductal Circle. Covington, Conyers, LithoniaStoS Mountain and Decatnr. f heee tndn. make ch'aa ^ nection for all pointa enat, southeast west, north and northweet. and carry thSXhTu!!!! era between Atlanta and ckarleaton. Tram No. 28 will atop at and receive — . and from the fallowing stations only:” rovetoS?R.^ Bearing, Thomson. Norwood, fiarart^oIlSS' villa. Union Point, GraaneaboroTMiSi^^^*- ConyOT ’ No. 28 stupe at Union Point for snmwv Connects at Augusta for all points ewrt 1 I. W. GREEN. Gen’i Manager. RR.DOB8EY, Sen 1 Pass. A^i P*ss- Agent. CURE FITS! M7 ««r« 1 do sot mmm Mrtl* to —— ^ -P U*« - o* vrrs, 1“ *2* wasr. i w*nwa mill- ott, a—a U4 haM— .. — —V MS|W.tliLall3ii Ilt n *"‘ Bwwam AStakw 34MI, us *mdM,aswtMk
