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Advertising Hates. first insertion., $1 00 subsequent insertion. SO lines of Million typeeon*titute a square advertisements not contracted tor wl above rates. for which they not specifying be the length are to inserted will be until ordered out Mid charged for to occupy fixed places will 25 per cent, above regular rates. in local column In inserted for five per line each insertion. ted. containing important news all correspondence to THE NEWS. 878. Tocooa.,Ga. Ja-ilV. JialtU, ATTORNEY AT LAW- TOCCOA. GA. KP~0FFICK Will, up stair* over W. A. Matheson attend promptly to all business trusted to blin Special attention given to the Collect So* of plaint A. N, KING, | ATTORNEY A T LAW C-AJ=fc3*T3S3-CTXX-X^E. 3--A- Isa. tja.e Court IXouo«. w 1 *!,n»p? and* f!d tVft!tten» W ' 11 hHVe 1 Rval Estate bought ami sold, and titles nvestigated. jan*21-ly i LEWIS DAVIS 1 ATTORNEY Toccoa AT LAW. City, GA t . HatUr- Wu.t, practice in the counties of ahnfn and Rabun, of the N or t western Circuit, find Krunkliii unit Hunks, of the Western Cir-. cult Prouip attention will lie given to all business entreated to him. The collection of debt* will have special attention. JOHN W. OWEN, ATTORNEY AT LAW Toccoa, Ga. Wim. practice in the counties of H«h«r lmin and Franklin. Collection* attended to romptly May 1-ly p--- T^ 1 UULUA 0 A W 1AU 0T 1 I-iI-l- F T J. P. SHERLEY,Propietor. T 1 have Teased the shove hotel, and my table will he furnished wit lithe West the market affords. Polite nd atte st ve servants always in attendance. I will furnish psxi hoard at ten dollars per month. Partes wishing to fcindtheir children to school cannot do letter hanto see me before getting board elsewhere. t PATENTS. . (r. Henderson , PATENT ATTORNEY nFFt'ES 925 F S'! HEFT, O. Box SO. Washington, D. C. formerly of the Examing Corps,U. S. Patent < nfice. Practices tc-fore the Patent Office, U. S. Su preine Court ami the Federal Court*. O Inion* given as to scope, validity, and in- triu ements of Patent*. Information cheerfully and prompt’y fur¬ nished. Hand Book on Patents, with reference* an nexed«KKKX LIPPI N COTT’ S Monthly Magazine . "It ’a * library in itself, with its varied and exrc ent table of contents.”—Mercury, San jose, Cal. "Enough new life has been infused into the periodical it of the to most trebble widely-read the circulation and and talked-of make one publication* **11'. in the world.”—Baltimore Aiuer- in •‘Lippincott the various • glints * w Magazine . is . almost , light . prismatic aad gleam•> of whicq It throws on some of the people and the opin- iun* of to-day.”—Boston Post. “In purely readable quality surpasses al¬ most all the others. It needs only to be Hera known Vi. to be firmly established.”—Boston “Llpplncott’s American Magazine is now one of the great monthlies.*’—N. Y. World. ‘Good for Lippincott! and credit to al ! movements which regard the present and an* tit ipa e the future spirit of tbe age. and act promptly follow and boldly the on such convitions. It is easy to old beaten tracks, but to S;^^^e: antI * th,raiUirK rJrer cided •‘Lippineotl’s Many Magnxine lias aehived a de- success. of ooptdar* ringing blows on the ga’ewav favor h ve been stmek —National Baptist. NUMBER 227 CONTAINS <( 'Brueton's Bayou.” 30,000 extra copies of "Brueton’s Bayou." hv Jtrfin Harberton. were demanded bv the Babie*.” NUMBER 228 CONTAINS “Miss jDefarge” creation By Francis Hodgson Burnett. An exquisite Lowrie’s.” bearing even rank with "That Lass o’ NUMBER 228 CONTAINS “ St'/i/fre.’- best By Julian Hawthorne, and decidedly’ his and situations. works. Replete The plot with dramatic effects is weired, ingenious, and absorbing. The characters arc strongly drawn, and excite intense interest NUMBER 230 CONTAINS “A Setf-Made Man” By M G. Metlelland, author of •‘Oblivion,” “Princess” etc. An admirable storv; In which the hero is a marvellously real anil attractive in fiffure- masterly The various situations are described a manner. tlfe A valuable addition fiction of day. NUMBER 231'CONTAINS “JHenyon’s Wife. ” A sew novel. By Lucy C, Lillie- a work of great power that fascinates by it* charm- ng vividly simplicity, portrayed and in that which reader the sccr. es sre .he o end is reaceed. regrets when TOCCOA NEWS VOL. XIV. BY MARY K. MOFFAT. The young people of Groveland were having n a picnic. \ It was in a pleasant grove, just at the , edge , of , the main road. The scene was a picturesque one, and drew many an admiring look from the passers-by. Most of the blooming village girls were there, dressed in their crisply* starched and neatly-ironed white dresses; some with bright-colored sashes and bows to match, others wreathed with wild flowers gathered in the woods which stretched invit- ingly away in their shady coolness at the back of the grove. Conspicuous among the rustic beau¬ ties was Barbara Wildman. She was a tall, bright-looking girl, whose great, dark eyes usually flashed back a morry answer, to the jests of the rustic beaux who generally huvered aroulI j her like moths around aflame, Just now, however, their brightness was under a cloud; for Mark Evcr&oti and the tete- H tete gbe hadfor sometime been an- deavori ng to avoid was inevitable. She was sorry to lose Mark’s friend¬ ship, and with a woman’s instict, she , knew that , it must , , be all „ nothing . . or Irom . henceforth neiiceiorin with witn him mm, and anu with Wiin a a newly-learned insight into her own heart, she knew that she did not love him. Her answet must be, “No.” With all her tray, friendly ways, she had not an atom of intentional co, i" etr y " bout !, * >r ’ “" ,1 w,th a sud - den resolution to end this suspense, she tartied toward him. “Well, Mark,” she said, gently, “what is it you want to say to me?'’ “You must know without my tell¬ ing. Oh, Barbura! it is your own sweet self I want! 1 have been as true to you as the needle is to the pele since the time when, a little boy and girl, we used to go nutting to¬ gether.” “Poor Mark! I ain sorry.” There was no mistaking the ex¬ pression ot the soft brown eyes. Genuine pity was in them for the pain g' i9 was causitur, n but no love, “Don’t, Barbara! I can’t bear it; me a chance before J you say * a decided ‘No.’ I’ll do things for you no one ever did before, if you’ll only promise to try and love me.” Just then a young man rode by on a powerful black horse. Mark saw a sudden change pass over Bar- i nra’s face. Turning, he saw, with a itter pain tugging at his heart- trings, . that the of the girl eves he loved were resting'on the stranger’s face with a rant, lingering expression ‘ . them, . which , . , , , ,n bad never irradiated . Mm, Md-time, faithful friend. There was no mistaking the an¬ swering looking in the eyes of the equestrian, as, bowing low, he rode lingeringly by, turning, ever and .non, to smile at th. fa.r face which Mark knew now' was not be th "light of his home. “So it is that stranger whom you love! You need not deny it,” he said, almost fiercely. “I saw it in your eyes.” Barbara answered, proudly: “I do not wish to deny it.” Then, with a sudden change of manner, she held out her hand. “I love him as 1 love my life, and have promised to marry him; but, dear old Mark, let us be friends, for the sake of the pleasant days of our happy childhood. Be my brother, Mark!” Mark hesitated; but could not re : sist the pleading wistfulness of tbe eyes, whose brightness shone through a mist, which suggested that tears were not faraway. He took the soft, little hand in his great brown palm, hardened by manly toil. Devoted to Nctos, Politic *, Agriculture and General ISvgrtu. TOCCOA, GA., APRIL 29, 1887. “I will be your friend, Barbara, I cannot .-ee you and be in your as I have been. I could not bear it. I shall sell the farm, and leave the place.” “No, Mark, you need not do that to avoid seeing me; for we ate to be married nex week, ami—and 1 shall with him.” Mark looked at her in pained sur¬ prise, as. blushmgly and hestatingly, she told him this, overcoming her maidenly shyness and reserve so that the honest heart, whose friendship she coveted, need not drive its owner to take a rash step which might mar his whole future. u Goinfr away so soon, and with a »erfect stranger? Oh, little Barbara! what do you know of him? He may lie a fraud, for aught you can tell.” A sudden anger flamed up in the girl’s “I know this, Mark; I love him, and it is cruel in you to make such a suggestion “He brought letters to auntie. His mother waa an old friend of hers. Dont be worrie J, dear old Mark. He is good as gold. 1 would stake my life on it.” Mark sighed heavily and turned away. The joy of the afternoon had gone from him, and another hour found him on his way home. He did not see Barbaaa again until long after her marriage, though her wedding was quite an event »n the quiet neighborhood, for the friends and neighbors were invited for miles around; but poor, heart-sick Mark staid away. For weeks after the beauty and happiness of the bride was the vil¬ lage gossip, and Mark heard it talked over until he felt as though he must cry out in his agony. Several years passed by, during which Mark led a lonely life. His disappoinmeut, while not souring his kindly nature, had made him indiffer¬ ent to social pleasures. But after a time his uncle Clifton moved with his family into the village. He had a number of daughters—pleasant, live¬ ly girls—and it was not long until they drew Mark “out of his shell,”as they called it. He grew to enjoy tl.oir merry chatter, and found his way to their home quite often. One of the cousins had formed a friendship with a young girl named Allice Mar- ton while away at school. It had proved more lasting than the ordinary liking between two school mates, and she was to spend the summer in Groveland. She was a gentle little thing, whose shy blushes at the most trivial word addressed her by Mark at first amused him greatly. He tried to draw her out, and in doing so found, after a time, that the pain of the old wound had gone forever. Little Alice, with her childish ways, had b ' ught peace and happiness into the teari once so filled with the image of the lost Barbara, From the first Mark had seemed to Alice all that was good and noble, so his wooing was a speedy one, and in a twelvemonth after their introduc- tion Everson Farm hul a gentle lit- tie mistress. Comfort anti luxury joined har.ds in beautifying the quaint old home- stead, for the prosperous young farm¬ er bad plenty of money, and “Alice must have pretty surrounding*,” he thought, tenderly, “to make up for m commonplace, work-a-day sort of a or i j »i It would not have done to say the concluding clause aloud, however^ for he well knew that the little woman would not have changed him fora king; and though ne considered him- self sadly overrate 1 in her mind, it was very sweet to *ave it so. Barbara had fade 1 completely out of the Groveland world. 1 he aunt with whom she lived died suddenly soon after her marriage, and all trace of the village beauty seemed to have vanished. If Mark ever thought of her it was to wonder at the poignancy of the old sufferings. His wedded happiness had been without a cloud to mar its brightness. Alice as a matron bad grown even more attractive than in her girlhood. Care sat lightly on her white forehead, and her soft, pink cheeks seemed made for dimples to play hide and seek in. One evening Mark came home from his weekly marketing expedition to the neighboring town seeming strangely thoughtful and troubled, Alice noticed it, and, after a time, said: “Hus anything gone wrong with you to-day, Mark?” He looked up in surprise, “Why, little wife, what put that into your head?” **1 don’t know, I’m sure. Unless it is that you seem so quiet and unlike yourself.” Mark thought a moment, then he said: “The truth is, Alice, I am sorry and pained, but not for myself. Did you ever hear any one speak of a girl who was once the beauty of the vil¬ lage—Barbara Wildman?” Alice had heard the whole story of Mark’s infatuation and disappoint¬ ment, but she made no sign, her heart gave a great throb at hear¬ ing the name from her husband’s lips. “Why, what of her?” she asked, quietly. t * “I saw her to-day, and it made my heart ache. She was the mere shadow of what she was, and she is alone and friendless. Think of it! Barbara Wildman looking for employment! Couldn’t we find a place for her, AI- lie? She was a notable worker in old times, and could help in the but¬ ter and cheese-making.” Alice would rather have died than let Mark see the deep pain his words had caused her. The thought of his first love domiciled in her house! was like a dart aimed at her heart. But she was too noble not to strive against the unworthy feeling, and soon as she could command her she answered: “Certainly, Mark. If it would please you, bring her here. There always room for an extra helper.” So it was arranged. Barbara A quiet, reserved woman—still beau- tiful—- but not with the brightness of old. Suffering and sor- row had set its stamp upon her broad forehead, and the great eyes seemed looking away into some unapproachable distance. Her were shut so tightly together that pretty, pouting curves which Mark remembered so well had merged into two straight, red lines, suggesting an idea ef firmness which made her face too severe looking to be attractive, She went about her duties with apre- occupied air, as though her thoughts were far away; but they were faith- fully performed. She made no effort toward sociability. Alice at first re- garded her with a mixture of feelings; but she soon grew to feel only a sor¬ rowful pity for the lonely, unhappy woman moving about in her sombre black robes, The Everson household was a strangely happy one. Sometimes Mark’s quick temper m?de him un- reasonable and exacting, and hasty words would escape lips; Alice had I ys of own that he could not resist. She would go up to hitn aad thread her fingers through his curly a’kiss; brown hair, and put up her lips for so what with some would have ended in a quarrel invariably made Mark feel that no one in the wide world bad such a dear little wife as his own “cross, surly self,” as he would meat' NO. 38. ally stigmatize himself, Barbara, being constantly with them, was often an unthought-of wit- ness of these scenes, where a loving word turned away wrath, Once she disappeared suddenly, and when, in a few moments. Alice bad need of her services, and went to her room to call her, she found her kneeling by the bedside, sobbing con- vulsively. Going to her, she put her tender arms about her, and said, gent- iy: “Tell me your trouble, Barbara. Perhaps it will make your heart ligbi- er to speak of it.” The woman raised her head and looked wouderingly into the kiud, sympathetic face for a moment. At l5rst she made no answer, but rocked herself to and fro, moaning to herstlf: “I am unworthy, and God has pun¬ ished me.” Alice caught the words, and said, softly: “If you have done wrong, and are sorry for it. He who chastiseth the children He loveth will also forgive.” “Can He bring the dead to life f’ said Barbara, suddenly looking at Alice with eyes that seemed to read the very soul. “It is past the time 'of miracles: but He can bring healing to the af¬ flicted heart of the mourner.” The woman’s dark eyes filled with tears. “There is no death like that of love, and I have killed it in my husband’s heart. He liates me! and I—I am nlame. I see it all now. Had 1 been like you, the gates of my paradise would never have been shut upon me. But I drove him from me with my hateful, wicked temper, and the rest of my life will be joyless and wretch¬ ed as it deserves to be.” “While there is life there is hope,” said Alice, solemnly. The words came to her instinctively. She was greatly surprised to learn that Bar¬ bara's husband still lived, as, judging from her deep mourning, she thought her widowed. “Are you in earnest? Do you really think what you say?” Bar¬ bara’s whole soul seemed concentrat¬ ed in her eager eyes, as she looked at Mark’s wife. “You are an angel, and I will believe what you say. It is you who have taught me wherein my wedded happiness was wrecked. I should have given myhusbaud lov¬ ing words and caresses, instead of anger and neglect. I would give ten years of my life to see him, and tell him of my lovo and repentance. But it is too late.” Thev were interrupted by a sudden sound of hurrying footsteps. The door opened and Mark entered, fol- lowed by a stranger to Alice, but not to Barbara ! She sprang forward with a wild cry, and was caught to his breast, “Ob, Elmer, forgive, forgive!” “My poor girl! It is I who should plead to you for forgivness. Can you let the past be as sealed book, and begin our life over again!” “Oh, so gladly—so joyfully! if you only knew how I longed to see your dear face sinco my wild flight away from you—anywhere, I thought, so as to relieve you of my unwelcome presence.” “And I, too, my poor darling! Life has seemed a blank since I lost you! | But, please God, nothing shall again divide us.” Explanations followed. Elmer was wealthy; and in her wild auger at some fancied neglect of her handsome, worshipd husband, Barbara had thought to punish him by | leaving her elegant home, and going away from him peniless. j As she had told Alice, her temper was, fiery and unreasonable, lts I constantly friction bad worn upon EI- rner until his fervent love bad appa- TOCCOA NEWS JOB OFFICE We are Prepared to Print LETTER HEADS, BILL HEADS, NOTE HEADS, STATEMENTS CIRCULARS. LAND DEEDS, MORTGAGE NOTE MARRIAGE LICENSE, AC. rently merged into indifference to¬ ward the wife whose beauty and aright ways had first attracted him. But natural absence had proved to each how great was their love for one another. Owing to the influence of the example which Alice had uncon¬ sciously held before Barbara, all is now peace and happiness with the re¬ united pair. ■—*—» THE AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION INSTITUTED MAY, 1824, Is bow seeking to gather the Children already not cared for, into Sunday- schools. It does not wish to interfere with any of the churches* work, but rather to stimulate it. ITS work is 1st. To organize a Sunday-school in every community where there is none. 2nd. To publish and circulate moral and religious literature in every part of our land, of such a high tone and character that can give reasona¬ ble effence to none. 3rd. To assist in the improvement of existing schools, by the sale, and grants if needy, of books, papers and all other Sunday-school supplies. 4th. To donate Bibles and Testa¬ ments in all npedy cases, whether to churches, Sunday-schools or to indi¬ viduals. Points to be remembered about the American Sunday-school Union work: 1st. This great National Society, was the pioneer society in organizing Sunday-schools and in furnishing moral and rel : glous reading for the children and youth of our country. 2ud. Jt aims to unite all the people in the study of the word of God, and especially to reach all those unreach¬ ed by the ordinary church agencies, and to lead them all to follow Jesus. 3rd. It does not wish to influence any in their church relations, but it aims to bring all to a knowledge of Christ through the study of the Bible. 4th. It does not wish or desire to have the control or management of any Sunday-school, but leaves it en¬ tirely in the hands of its members to choose the government by them deem¬ ed best. It only seeks to unite all the people in tbe study of God s word. 5th. It seeks to stimulate Sunday* school work in any way it can, by as¬ sisting all the needy schools, by vis- iting and donating Bibles. Testa* meats, books, papers and all other Sunday-school supplies. This work is acceptable, hopeful, efficient, fruitful, enduring, economi¬ cal, and never more needful than now, as there are still thousands of chiHr***» in Georgia not enrolled, but outside jf Sunday-scnools. We must bring them in. As the agent of this society for Georgia, I shall be pleased to visit any community in the State and wilt be glad to assist in organizing a Sun¬ day-school or improving old ones, and if needy giving them a grant of Bibles, Testaments, books, palters or any other Sunday-school supplies. If any such school or place is known to you please write to me about it at once. For Christ and His cause, for tbe Bible and tbe Sabbath, for our laws, our liberties and our country, let us gather into Sunday-schools the chil¬ dren in Georgia. Remember Jesus said “Feed mv lambs.” Yours truly in this work far the Master and Hia little ones. , Thomas W. Duwock, Agent Ga. Dep‘t America* £. S» Union. Carrolton, Ga. Bucklkn's Arnica salve.—T he Best Salve in the world fot euts brusies, sores, ulcers, salt rheum, fever sores, tetter, chapped hands, chilblains corns, and ail skin erup¬ tions. and positively cares piles, or no pay repaired. It is guaranteed to give perfect satisfaction, o r m o ne y refunded. Price 25 cents per box for sate by W. H, A J. Dayia.