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THE SUNNY SOHTU,* ATLANTA. GEORGIA SEPTEMBER 30 18913
15
WRINKLE.
„ , v . r south.
/ lB Ta* sovereign of fashion
rO* , s 8 ,, hv elite—
1 £;**,*■« o/ tlj t oSmW sio “ t „
' h , she a r* n ^ h „ tield at her feet.
'%' Bwr«*ftf P rid eoftlie noUr
° r . ha picture of sorrow
«T, y s»Dd*■•jSiJJdressing room’s glass
^‘SSnsSSSSS’
trt»t^‘otdivineli wa8 tbere_
gfle<! td , ,vhifl criDkie, .
L . „,id@ and in error
w nbizzuinP rl f e gtival hall.
V »'?“‘“ 0 rt woncie mg terror
Vi^ d a ' J . l , . n W ords traced on the wa .
T6e mf 8tlc h r. min-or’s retlectiou
ji»n **■* 2™t small wrinkles faint trace
:be ?' he ? creamy complexion-
^onfuawonherfa.e.
jli a message fair .'y'^lAmd^tand;
'“.r^Sa Daniel to read it,
YonH /'^inalegiolehand.
Tl ®® TJ invading your regions
lu —James (Gardner.
fl'HY fl o WOMHW *' £AB MICE.
» Woman’* *«»y ,n a Va,n Att * mpt to
* inmver the «>ue»tlon.
As a wo man and I trust a brave one.
, Inver of animals and a student of
'Aural history, 1 ask the vexed ques
tion in all seriousness. Why are wo
men afraid of mice? says a writer in
jondon Woman. Why should the
j„j, t (i had almost written the name)
* a tiny, harmless, graceful little
creature strike terror into the stout-
est hearts that beat in feminine
breasts? Echo answers:
“Why?”
The fear of mice is a hereditary
curse, an inherited weakness, a fatal
foe which it is useless to combat, a
foolish dread of which we ought to
feel heartily ashamed, and yet it is a
real and formidable terror. It is
never assumed. It, may be exagger
ated by a lit of hysterics or a succes
sion of screams, but the genuine peur
afaire fremir is there all the same—
and why?
I remember once reading a story
about a coterie of strong-minded wo
men who gave a series of lectures
upon female virtues in an old country
town assembly room.
(hie of their number was chosen to
deliver the lecture on valor, and se
lected for her subject the history of
Joan of Arc. Hut when the evening
arrived and she was discussing upon
the valor of her sex in general a mouse
ran across the platform and the lec
turer and her strong-minded sisters
jumped onto their chairs, clutching
their petticoats in a manner not alto
gether picturesque. But I maintain
that the fear of mice has nothing
whatever to do with the lack of real
bravery and that Joan of Arc would
probably have clutched her petticoats
in precisely the same manner.
A mouse in the chamber of Marat
would, [ believe, have deterred Char
lotte* orday from her dread purpose;
and the tail of one popping oppor
tunely from the carving of Tuilla’s
chariot would have prevented her
from driving over her father’s corpse,
and I could cite many instances in
which mice might have changed iu the
history of the world. Who can doubt
that Cleopatra and the other swarthy
/■mptian beauties held the sacred cat
ui special veneration on account of the
part he played in ridding them of
their pet aversion? Every one knows
t!lat if a cat has a w< akn- ss it is for a
plump, well-matured mouse, and puss
has, perhaps, for this reason earned
the affections, because of the grati
tude, of our sex. The story of a pris
oner who was cheered in captivfty by
a mouse is familiar to us all—but the
prisoner was a man. Equally familiar
18 the fable of the grateful mouse
which gnawed the net, but again—the
prisoner is said to have been a lion,
n°t a lioness. I believe there is a
hiutual antipathy between them.
Most women have experienced the
sensation.
• ^ 011 ar e sitting alone reading, play-
o wr iting, painting or working
^ uadenly you instinctively feel a sen-
• a ‘ ,on of horror of some evil
uUience that is present, but as yet
unseen.
Vni lift your eyes. You behold,
h i.:ng over-the carpet toward you,
ooise, apparently without the
ouh;e of walking, a mouse. It stops,
a>ci nates you. You drop your
„ y° llr music, your brush, your
whatever it may be, but you
no other sound.
vn, - r Ieei your b,ood freeze, and
s V, r '‘ r ! nnb9 slowly paralyze,your heart
<v, •' in ‘ r ’ your hreath ceases, a
iml- 111 cree P s 0Vtir you. in your
uination you feel the soft touch of
v, ot mice running races over
in ! h °. e ani * ban( is, and making nests
fe H '. i F ack ba * r - Y° u start to your
• * * and then * * * well,
jj 1 tn ta ke these things so different-
be AA afraid of mice simply
Jo*" 8 ® lt: lsborn in them? There is
tc em Jfhy we should be afraid of
are *rrf U i l he fa ° t reaiain s that we
aivUif r } 0Dg 81nce resigned
thpj. • ° ^e as an evil for which
ltl tre is no remedy.
ADLAI WOULDN’T PLOUGH.
The Vice President’s Old Kentucky
Home.
For the Sunny South.
HERE IS A CURIOUS
coino dence in the lives
of AU^ai Stevenson, and
the mpress Josephine.
Both w ere prophesied of
oldj women to become
famous and the sooth
saying in each case wa
verified One becoming
almost by necromancy,
Empress of the French;
the other rising to high
honor in the council of
his country. He is by
birth a compatriot of
mine, and spending last winter in my
native state, I naturally have many stones
reminiscent of his youth,
On one of the bleakest of the gray, win
ter days, we turned out of our way some
miles, to view the old, tumble-down house
where he was horn. The stored darts of
greatness, like; Jove’s holts, fly forth er
ratically. It strikes “quare” as the nig
ger says thunder does. The genesis of
the majority of our great men, has been
humble.
Certainly there was small choice of lo
cation when the bolt struckjhe farmhouse,
in the nine lick country.
The bucolic neighbors of this district
little thought that the barefooted boy,
playing with their sons, would ever fig
ure on a winning presidential ticket.
There is something in Kentucky soil,
fostering to political ambition. Note our
long list of brilliant, and successful pub
lic men. James Lane Allen says, there is
a quality in the blue grass, that gives
beauty, and swiftness to the horses, and —
but for fear of laying flattering unction to
my soul, I will not quote his remarks on
the charms of the ladies.
The something fostering fed the great
Lincoln in his youth, and further back a
Olay was nutured. How ha it, this boy
born of humble parents—urged to distaste
ful farm tasks in his youth, had his
way at last. Went from college
into the law, and from thence to high
political honors. There -s a current joke
that half the state, just now, is kin to Ste
venson.
There is no doubt that the Kentuckians’
appetite for federal offices is considerably
w netted.
Stevenson’s old home is situated in the
extreme southern portion of Christian
county. H s father was of Scotch-Irish
descent, and came to Kentucky from the
old town of Statesville, N C. Adlai w*s
the eldest of a large family. The prolific
ness of those old house-holders is no«v
a jest for the new generation, who seem to
consider the commandment to replenish
the earth one of Dr Brigg’s scriptural er
rors. They haven’t time to rear Vice-
Presidents.
In his youth he attended the district
echoed of the neighborhood. Along with
incipient patriotism developed a tender
feeling for the opposite sex. A true Ken
tuckian must needs love a woman if he
entertains no other sentiment in life.
Adlai was early in love. The object of
this youthful ardor was a email school
mate called ELlen.
A story is told that they one day went
to the spring together to fetch a bucket of
water. Now if there is any one place
above another suited for young love mak
ing it is a Kentucky spring. Bubbling up
in some dim wood, deep down among cool
rocks, feathered by moss, and sung over
Pv a lordly mocking-bird.
Lingering about tne spot, the girl said:
“Adlai, the boys say you will never
make a good farmer, because you are so
lazy.”
“I reckon they are right,” said the young
lover, “but may be I can make something
bigger.”
They sat down on a rock roofing the
spring, and as they idly talked, the boy
cut on the stone with his old barlow knife
these words:
“Adlai E Stevenson, Pres. U. S.
My Little Ellen.”
The letters are clearly visible to this
day. When school “cook up” in the fall,
it became a great j jke, and the young ro
mancer was harassed to the extremity ot
several rough and tumble scraps. Ht
shared the fate of all country boys, anc
was regularly put to ploughing iu vaca
tion. He detested the work.
His father was determined to break
him into it, and told him he had
S lough until he learned to like it. One
ay he discovered him in a distant field
lying under a sassafras tree reading Rob
inson Crusoe. The guilty youth, sur-
S nsed, said he had to let the mule rest.
[is promptness in that exigency foreshad
owed future statecraft.
At last his father conceived a happy
thought; he would bell the mule. It was
done, and several days passed and the
tinkle, tinkle ceased only at noon and
night.
Oae day the old msn thought he would
step over and see how the work pro
gressed. When he came in sight he saw
ihe mule standing sleepily in the middle
of a farrow. Again Adlai was seated in
the shade oi a tree. He had hung tne bell
on a friendly branch and gently swung it
with a string attached to his big toe,
while he reau his book. There was no use
trying—the boy would not plough.
He moved in his young manhood to
Bloomington, Illinois. Wuen they were
about to start, Wiunie, his old nurse,
came to say good-bye. Her last words
were: v ,
“Missus, don t ye make Marse Adlai
work on the farm. Jis let him alone—he’s
gwine ter ’spxise you yit ”
He shortly returned to Kentucky to
school, studying with B. B. Sayre, in
Frankfort. Later he weut to old Center
College, at Danville, to study law, and
entered that notable class made np of
Justice Harlen, Senator Blackburn, Sena
tor Vest, and Governors B. Gratz Brown,
and Thomas I. Crittenden, of Missouri.
He stayed much alone with his books,
which his companions construed as exclu
siveness, but which was in reality only in
tense energy in bis work.
It was at Center College he met his wife
—Miss Letitia Green, daughter of the
President of the college. He has climbed
steadily and surely.
The neighbors will laughingly tell yon
now that Adlai could do leas work in
more time than any youth of his age. It
was not the work, but the quality he ob
jected to. Time has proved him no lag
gard.
He is now forty-eight years old and is
reported to be singularly well preserved.
He is at his best for active, intelligent
work, and that God-given talent serving
right and justice has a fine field ahead for
its agency.
I did not reach Kentucky in time for the
grand political rally on Sept. 2nd. At
that time it waa said ten thousand people
gathered to pay their respects to him.
The spot selected was where the old Bine
Water school-house used to stand; where
he, and sweetheart Ellen, cast shy glances
behind the domine’s back.
Late in the day, when weary of hand
shaking, and taking a rest under one of
the familiar oaks, some one said an old
colored man wanted to shake hands with
him. Turning he saw a bent old man
leaning on a staff. He said:
“Why, bless my heart Uncle Tom, how
are you, and how’s Aunt Winnie?”
“Marse Adlai Winnie’s done d«ad ten
year ago, but I never is fnrgot how she
used to say Adlai’s gwine to sprise yer all
yit”
He presented the old slave with ten dol
lars, and heard him say as he was called
off:
“Yon’se gwine ter git ’lected fur it’s
writ down yander on thnr rock.”
Stevenson went to the spring, and lying
prone, drank of the sweet water as in the
days of his youth.
He scraped the lichen from the writing
on the rock, and said it seemed bat yes
terday since he traced the letters, with the
fair little form of his early love beside
him, who for many years had mouldered
in the tomb.
Elizabeth Holloway.
LaamlDK Things
The drummer was looking so sad
that it attracted the attention of the
hotel clerk.
“What’s the matter?” asked that
functionary, “lost a friend, or your
job?”
“No, worse,” responded the drum
mer.
“Lost two friends?” queried the
sympathetic clerk.
“No; just thinking of a man I met
out here in Adrian last night at sup
per.”
“What did he do to you? Beat you
at poker?”
“No; asked me a question and Ion-
swered it by asking him another.”
“Give me the particulars.”
“Well, it was this way”—and the
drummer showed by his looks how
badly he felt, to bring it all up again
—“we were at supper, and I had been
pretty smart and the man had been
very quiet.”
“‘Did you ever notice,’he said, as
innocent and kindly as a school
teacher, ‘that over in Wisconsin the
people shake the pepper-box, this
way, while those in Indiana hold it
fast and pat it on the bottom, this
way?”
“I had noticed it and told him so.
“ ‘I’m from Indiana,’ he said, knock
ing some pepper on his potatoes.
“Yes,” said I, “it shows on you.”
“ ‘Do you know.* said he seriously,
“why they do it differently?’
“No,” said I, “why do they?”
“ ‘To get the pepper out,* said he
earnestly, and then the gang at the
table gave me the laugh in eighteen
places, and the man asked me how
much salary I got for learning
things.”—Detroit Free Press.
Mrs. Anna Sutherland
Kalamazoo, Mich., had swellings in the neck, or
, , From her 10th M _
GOltre year, causing 40 Y©cU*S
great suffering. When she caught cold could not
walk two blocks without fainting. She took
Hood’s Sarsaparilla
And is now free from it all. She has urged
many others to take Hood’s Sarsaparilla and
they have also been cured. It will do you good.
HOOD’8 PlLL8 Curo aU Liver Hl», Jaundice,
elck headache, biliousness, sour stomach, nausea.
R :
1
UPTURE—°-~
W *■ m treated by onr
Mechanical Treatment. Send for book.
.B. Seeley & Co., 25 *
15 S- J 1th St,
Philadelphia.
“WORTH A GUINE AfiJBOX.”
A box of
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' and all nervous and trembling sensa
tions are relieved by using these Pills
Covered with a Tasteless and Soluble Coating
Ot all druggists. Price S5 cents a box.
New York Depot, 3fi5 Canal St.
1-2 RATE
(PLUS $2)
EXCURSIONS^
to
Arkansas and Texas
VIA THE
COTTON BELT ROUTE,
August 22, September 12. October 10,1093.
Tickets good for return until 20 clays from date
of sale. For full particulars address
R T. G.Matthews. D. I W. H. Scttton, T. P. 1.
P. A. Louisville, Ky. | Chattanooga. Tenn.
Fred t±. Jones D P.A., I W. G. Adams, T. P. A.,
Memphis, Tenn. | Nashville, Tenn.
E. W. LaBeaume, G. P. & T. A., St. Louis, Mo .
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Will Your Face Bear Close Inspection?
Get a Hand Mirror and take a good look at yourself. Your features
may be perfect, and your form all that anyone could ask, yet you are not
pretty when your face is covered with Freckles, and Pimples, or disgusting
“Flesh Worms” and Black Heads. There is no good reason why your skin
should not be as soft and as white as a Baby? It was that way
When You Came Into The World.
And would be so now if you had taken care of it. Freckle discolorations
are buried under the skin, and to be removed, the skin must be softened, the
pores opened up, when these unsightly secretions will exude through the
skin and disappear.
What is true of Freckles, is also true of Black Heads, Flesh Worms and
Pimples. It is only necessary to open up the channels of Perspiration, when
Nature throws off all Skin Imperfections, and a lovely complexion is the
result
Every year hundreds of dollars are paid out for blood medicines by per
sons whose faces are covered with pimples. If these people stopped to con
sider, would they not know that these pimples do not come from imperfections
of the blood? If the blood caused them, would not the whole body be covered
with similar pimples,as the blood courses with equal force over the whole
system? Do they not know that the trouble is only a local one, and must be
treated locally if they would be cured?
Does not common sense tell them that the pores of the face have been
clogged up—that when the skin is hard and stagnant, that these small masses
of corruption must be the result?
Madam De Pom iadour 9 s Lanolate of Roses
nisature's own remedy for skin imperfections. It does not cover up and gloss
over, but strikes at the root of the disease and dispels it. It is put up in'Chius
cases, presents an attractive appearance, and is really delightful to use. I f
soften the skin when the pores open up naturally and all imperfections dis
appear.
Price b? mail, post paid, $1 00 per box. Address,
Lpiioiate Rose Comoanv.
Boa‘488 Atlanta, Q»,