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VOL. I.
LARGEST
STORE
IN’
NORTH GEORGIA
Miim IBS,
Athens, CS-fi.
mime dry roads
m\m SHOES HITS.
Merchants will do well to get our
prices before buying
MICHAEL BROS-
Athens, Ga.
TEARING IT DOWN.
The citizens of Clarksville were sm
prised no little on Wednesday morn
ing the 13th inst, when they awok.
and found that they only had a p >ri
#if a coo’-t h'*n ’eh; ' n-l : :! ‘
v. (■ ’ ! ’ (_) 1 V• *' ei V*t Or Jii rop ’ 1
*•' i p, I .1 f Vl| If
• : • ’!(] OH ; •
issioi er- *>i II ■;>
■■ August levied a tax •
i i,i j‘"S.-ot bnildi ig a i.ew con
|,o=> Tlvs ia.x had been at Hint a
when the Porter Maiillf.i
rnp .ny, filed a petition f
n to- nr c ur. o 1
: ii.j saini- was hear '■ an
.ihtamed by Judge Kirm-cy at Clev
iand, (la., on Daccinber -Ist and i.-
now pending in the tup conr;
I'lie sentiment among the p‘ !
regard to the mutter and the pres--
very unexpected move i • dividx!, an
the outcome of the matter is in o
watched with a g r et deal of inter- -
The co'ntrr.-t for btuMing th- 1
court house was made witii Mr F- I
Hefner, of Atlanta, on January 4. avi
his representative is now : t work >n
the old building, and will, unless pre
vented at once start the work on the
new cour, house
. C L E V E R T KICK
It certainly look like it, but there
is really no tricK about it. Anybody
can try it who has Larne .Bank and
V i-.k K.l icys. Malaria or noivotn.
'l. \V < mean he can cure him
jrin away by taking Electric Bit
ic - This medicine tones up the
who e'-stem, acts as a stimulant to
■ne L vepand Kidneys, is a blood Ju
rifier and nerve tonic. It cures Cosn —
j it >n, Heailach-, Fainting spells,
■h s ness ami .Melancholy. It is
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r stores the svsfem to its natural vig
. . Try El ‘ctric Bitters and be con —
■ > ibst tln-v are a miracle worker
i.i'til g uaranteed. Only 50ct a
bnlleal L. G. Hardman & Uro’s
aid L. J. Sharp & Bro’s Drug Stores,
HARMONY GROVE, GA. I
Good Advice to the Negroes.
From the Richmond Times.
A sensible negro preacher in the
south has been advising members of
his race to stick to the farm. Good
advice. The negro is a born farmer,
and agriculture suits him better than
anv other occupation. Herein is one
field at least m which he has an equal
ehanee with the white man and in
w hich there can he no possible diseri
TT‘ ('<'• ,x ' r • * S S '
,-.e li't Li i J Wot !<i
n -i ■ t i |i ejoun < •
i. • i rae <*t tie lann.
TwO FOll ONE.
..paci.d anungemeiit wo oflvr
HON. and FARM
In com lunation wish our for <T.2f>, L 1.50
beinz tbe of both. That is, for ail iiov or
oM subscribers renewing and pa? ing iaadv: n :*•
\ve send The Home and Fai'iir one year for 25
cent.-; lio.ue anti Farm lms for many >cars bet n
flu: leading agrieultmal Journal in the south
aud southwest, made by farmers for farmers
Its lloux* liepartinent conducted by Aunt Jane
iu Children’s Department and its Dairy De
)>artm nt are brighter and better than ever.
Renew now ami get this great Journal for t.ie
Home and the farm for 25 cents.
If you need
a Buggy call
at The Jour
nal Office
Banks County Journal.
This is the Man
oi>£i .
, £ ® \\
How ? Jlip; frk !
•Ss*! *tl " 3
•gta-ca* \\ ts -St;l H-§
Sggge.s ''in 1 illl |3jßs*h
Sgltig :±j m\ g
eia{s <gs 1 i?iis=s
?"0i s, <S ft
!Il s ,#Las>=ll_ si
Disease* of the lllood and Nerves.
No one need suffer with neuralgia. This
disease is quickly and permanently cured
by Browns* Iron Bitters. Every disease of
he blood, nerves and stomp. :h, chronic
r otherwise, succumbs to Browns’ Iron
Bitters. Known ami used for nearly a
luarter of u century, it stands to-day fore
most among our most valued remedies.
Browns* Iron Bitters is sold by all dealers.
“IT ™
Atlanta. < *-.
Shirts, open bosom, 12^c
Shirts with eoll r and cuffs, 12J"
(Plaited or Fancy)
Shirts, plain, l"c
Collars, ?|c
Cuffs, per pair, i>c
Ties oo
Nightshirts, 10c
Undershirts, 8c
Drawers, N 8<;
S.-.cks, per pair, be
!I uidkercbie.fs, Be
Silk Handkerchiefs, 5c
White Gnats, 10c
Aprons,
Indies’ NVnists.
White Vests,
White Pants 25 l" >U
Tablecloths, ’ •’*'
Napkins, 1c
Towels, ■
Sheets, 5c
Pillow Slips, 5c
Spreads, 1 Oti
Lace Ciirta ; ns, 76 to $2.00
Domestic and Gloss Finish.
We Clean and Press Gentlemen’s
Suits Equal to Nev, $1.50.
XV M BAUER, Proprietor.
You Can Leave Packages at Thi
Offic, We will forward the same.
fie fori l . >
’ Almanac & s
Encyclopedia
i IVill
Ask It
% Standard
American
■& Annual.
Ready Jan. 1, 1898,
On All News Stands.
Larger, Better, More Complete
Than Ever.
IjgPTbc most widely sold Manual Refer
met Book and Political Manual published.
¥ e THE WORLD, ®
Pulitzer Building, New York.
HOMER. GA®, THURSDAY, JANUARY 20, 1898.
|mC OfTHg|
COpyRiOMT. 1897 B Y. re F.FENNO grCO ' >t t
CHAPTER I.
“Where does Beruardet live?”
“At the passage to the right. Yes,
that house which you see with the grat
ing nud the garden behind it.”
The man to whom a passerby had
given this information hurried away in
the direction pointed ont. Although
gasping for breath, lie tried to run, in
order to more quickly roach the little
Louse at the end of the passage of the
Elysee des Beaux Arts. This passage, r
sort of cnl do sac, on either side of which
wefo black buildings, strange old houses
and dilapidated storehouses, ox medupou
a boulevard filled with life and move
ment, with people promenading, with
the noise of tramways, with gayety and
light.
The man wore the dress and had the
bearing of a workman. He was very
short, very fat, and his bald head was
bared to the warm October raiu. He
was a workman, in truth, who worked
in his concierge lodge, making over and
mending garments for his neighbors,
while his wife looked after the liouso,
swept the staircases and complained of
her lot.
Mine. Moniclie found life hard and
disagreeable and regretted that it had
I not given her what it promised when,
I at 18, and very pretty, she had expected
something better than to watch beside a
tailor bent over liis work in a concierge’s
lodge. Into her life a tragedy had sud
denly- precipitated itself, and Aime.
Monicho found that day something to
brighten np her afternoon. Entering a
moment before the apartment occupied
by M. Rovere, she bad found her lodger
lying on his back, his eyes fixed, his
arms flung ont, with a gash across his
throat.
M. Rovere had lived alone in the
house for many years, receiving a few
mysterious persous. Mine. Mouiche
looked after his apartment, entering by
using her own key whenever it was
necessary, and her lodger had given her
permission to come there at any time to
read the daily papers.
lime. Monicho hurried down the
stairs.
“M. Rovere is dead! M. Rovere has
been murdered! His throat has been
cut! Ko has been assassinated!” Ami
pursuing her husband out of the door
sho exclaimed:
“The police—go for the police!”
This word “police” awakened in the
tailor’s mind U'rt tho thought of the
neighboring c miissary, but the
thought of the m. n to whom he felt
that ho ought to appeal, whom he ought
to consult. This man was the good little
M. Bernardet, who passed for a man of
genius of his kind at tho Surete and for
whom Monicho had often repaired coats
and rehemracd trousers.
From tho mansion iu tho Boulevard
.ie Clichy, where Monicho lived, to M.
Bemardet’s house was hut a short dis
tance, and the concierge knew the way
very well, as ho had often been there,
but the poor man was so stupefied, so
overwhelmed, by the sudden appearance
of his wifo in his room, by tho brutal
revelation which came to him as tho
blow of a fist by tho horrible manlier of
M. Rovcre’s death, that he lost his head.
Horrified, breathless, ho asked tho first
passerby where Beruardet lived, and ho
ran as fast as ho could in the direction
pointed out.
Arrived at tho grating, tho worthy
man, a littlo confused, stopped short.
He was very strongly moved. It seemed
to him that ho had been cast into the
agony of a horrible nightmare. An as
sassination in tho house! A murder in
the Boulevard do Clichy in broad day
light, just over his head, while ho was
quietly repairing a vest!
He stood looking at tho house without
ringing. M. Beruardet was, no doubt,
breakfasting with his family, for it was
Sunday, and tho polieo officer, meeting
Moniche tho evening before, lmd said
to him, “Tomorrow is my birthday."
Mouiohe hesitated a moment. Then he
rang the bell He was not kept waiting
The sudden opening of tbo grating star
tied him. Ho pushed hack the door and
entered. He crossed a little court, at
the eud of which was a pavilion He
mounted tho three steps and was met on
the threshold by a littlo woman, as rosy
and fresh as an apple, who, napkin in
hand, gayly saluted him.
"Eh, M. Moniche!"
It was Mine. Beruardet, a Burgundi
an woman, about 35 years of age, trim
and coquettish, who stepped back so
that tho tailor could euter.
“What is the matter, M. Moniche?”
Poor Moniche rolled iris frightened
eyes around and gasped out, “I must
speak to M. Beruardet.’’
“Nothing easier, ’’ said the littlo wo
man. “M. Beruardet is in the garden
Yes, ho is taking advantage of tho beau
tiful day. He is taking a group”—
"What group?”
“You know very well photography
is his passion. Come with me.”
And Miuo. Beruardet poiuted to the
end of tho corridor, where an open door
gave a glimpse of the garden at the rear
of the house. M. Beruardet, the in
spector, had posed his three daughters
with their mother about a small table,
on which coffee hail been served.
' “I bad just gone in to get my nap
kin, when 1 heard you ring,” Mine
Beruardet said.
Beruardet made a sign to Moniche
not to advance. He was as plump and
as gay as his wife. His mustache was
red, his double chin smooth shaven and
rosy, his eyes Fad a sharp, cunning
_____ - —-f
' J"" - '
look, his head was round anil closely
cropped.
The three daughters, clothed alike in
Scqtch plaid, were posing in front of a
photographic apparatus which stood on
a tripod. The eldest was about 12 years
of ago, the youngest a child of 5. They
wero all three strangely alike.
M. Bemardet, in honor of his birth
day, was taking a picture of his daugh
ters. The ferret who from morning till
night tracked robbers and malefactors
into their hiding places was taking his
recreation in his damp garden. The
sweet idyl of this hidden life repaid
him for his unceasing investigations,
for his trouble and fatiguing man hunts
through Paris.
“There,” he said, clapping the cap
over the lens. “That is all. Go and
play uow, my dears. I am at your serv
ice now, Monicho."
He shut up Iris photograph t)>; t' !
pulling out the tripod hum ie
soil in which it was imbedded, wl: <
his daughters joyously ran to then
mother. The young girls stood gazing
at Monicho with their great blue eyes,
piercing and clear. Beruardet turned to
look at him, and at once divined that
something had happened.
“You are as white as your handker
chief, Moniclie,” he said. “A murder?”
“A murder, yes, M. Beruardet. M
Rovere —you did not know him?”
“No.”
“Ho was an original, a recluse, and
now he has been assassinated. My wife
went to bis room to read the papers”—
Bernardet interrupted him brusquely
“When did it happen?”
“Ah, dame, monsieur, I do not know
Ali I know is my wife found tho body
still warm. She was not afraid. Sb
touched it.”
“Still warm!”
These words struck Bernardet. He re
fleeted a moment. Then lie said:
“Come, let us go to your house.”
Then, struck with a sudden idea, >
added, “Yes, I will take it. 1
Ho unfastened his camera from f
tripod. “I have three plates left win
I can use,” he said.
Mmc. Bernardet, who was standii
at a little distance, with tho childrt
clinging to her skirts, perceived that tl
concierge had brought important newt
Bernardet’s smiling face had suddcul;
changed. Tho expression became seri
oils, his glance fixed and keen.
“Art thou going with him?” Mmc
Bernardet asked as she saw her liusbaut.
buckle on a leather bandolier.
“Yes,” he answered.
"Ah, nion Dieu! My poor Sunday,
and this evening! Can wo not go to the
little theater at Montmartre this even
ing?”
“I do not know,” ho replied.
“You promised. Tho poor children!
You promised to take them to see Cio
serie des Genets. ’ ’
“I cannot tell. I do not know. I will
see,” tho little man said. “My dear
“Von arc ns white ns ynvr hnndkcrchlc!
tloniche,” he mild.
Moniche, today is my fortieth birthday
I promised to take them to the theater
but I must go with y Turning t(
his wife, lie add< and : "i' -t 1 ■ 1 c
back as soon i
let ns ha
Ho kissed his wife ont.be forcheac
and each little girl on both cheeks,
strapping tho camera in the bamiolic;
he went out, followed by the tailor. A.-
they walked quickly along Moniche
kept repeating, "Still warm—yes, M
Bernardot, still warm.”
CHAPTER 11.
Bernardet was quite an original char
acter. Among the agents, some of whom
were very odd, and among the devoted
subalterns this little man, with his
singular mind, with his insatiable cn
riosity, reading auythiug ho could lay
his hands on, passed for a literary per
son. His chief sometimes laughingly
said to him:
“Bernardet, take care You havo lit
erary ambitious. You will begin to
dream of writing for the papers.”
"Oh, no, M. Morel! But what would
you? 1 am simply amusing myself. ”
This was true. Bernardet was a born
fcuutcr. Witn a superior education he
might have become a savant, a frequent
er of libraries, passing his life in work-
I ing on documents and in deciphering
manuscripts. The son of a dairyman,
! brought up in a Laneastrial s- hool,
j reading with avidity ail the daily pa
-1 pers, attracted by everything mysteri
j cus which happened in Paris, 1 aviug
accomplished hi. military .’nty, he up
“Rust,
the dread of the cotton grower,
can be prevented. Trials at
Experiment Stations and the
experience of leading growers
prove positively that
Kainit
is the only remedy.
tVe will be glad to send, free of charge,
interesting and useful pamphlets which treat
of the matter in detail.
GERMAN' KALI WORKS.
Nunu St., New York.
plied for admission to the police bureau,
as he would have embarked for the new
world, for Mexico or for Tonqnin, in
order to travel in anew country. Then
he married, so that he might have in
his checkered existence, which was dan
gerous and wearying, a haven of rest, a
fireside of peaceful joy.
So he lived a double life, tracking
malefactors like a bloodhound and cul
tivating his little garden. There he de
voured old books, for which he had paid
a few sous at some book stall. He read
and pasted in old odd leaves, rebound
them himself and cut clippings from
paj>er3. He filled his round, bald head
with a mass of facts which he investi
gated, classified, put into their proper
place, to bo brought forth as occasion
demanded.
Ho was an inquisitive person—a very
inquisitive person indeed. Curiosity
filled his life. He performed with pleas
ure the most fatiguing and repulsive
tasks that fall to a police officer's lot.
They satisfied the original need of his
nature and permitted him to seo every
thing, to hear everything, to penetrate
into the most curious mysteries—teday,
in a dress suit with white tie, carelessly
glancing over the crowds at the opera to
discover the thieves who took opera
glasses, which they sent to accomplices
in Germany to be sold; tomorrow go
ing in ragged clothes to arrest a mur
derer in some cutthroat den in the Gla-
oiere.
M. Bernardet had taken possession of
he efface of tho most powerful bankers,
ized their books and made them go
,vay with him in a cab. He had fol
iwed, by order, the intrigues of more
dan one fine lady, who owed to him
,er salvation. What if M. Bernardet
jad thought fit to speak? But he never
poke, and reporters came out worsted
from any attempt at an interview with
him. “An interview is silver, but si
lence is gold, ’ ’ he was wont to say, for
he was not a fool.
Ho had assisted at spiritual seances
and attended secret meetings of an
archists. He had occupied himself with
occult matters, consulting tho magi
cians of chance, and he had at his
tongue’s end the list of conspirators
He knew the true names of the famous
Greeks who shuffled cards as cue scouts
about under an assumed name. The
gambling hells were all familiar to him.
He knew the churches in whose dark
corners associates assembled to talk of
affairs, who did not wish to be seen iu
beer shops or spied upon in cabarets.
Of the millions in Paris ho knew the
secrets of this whirlpool of humanity.
Oh, if he had ever become prefect of
police, he would have studied his Paris,
not at a distance, looking up statistics
in books, or fr in tbo windows of a po
lice bureau, bu , in the streets, iu wretch
ed lodgings, in hovels, in the asylums
of misery and of crime. But Bernardet
was not ambitious. Life suited him
very well as ho found it. His good wife
had brought to him a small dower, and
Bernardet, content with this poor little
fortune, found that he had all the power
he wanted —tho power, when occasion
demanded, of putting his hand on tho
shoulder of a former minister and of
taking a murderer by the throat.
Olio day a fiuaucier, threatened with
imprisonment in Mazas, pleased him
very much. Bernardet entered his office
to arrest him. He did not wish to iiave
a row in the bank. The police officer
and banker found themselves alone,
face to face, iu a very small room, a
private office, with heavy curtains and
a thick carpet, which stifled all noise.
“Fifty thousand francs if you will
let mo escape, ” said the hanker
“M. le Comte jests. "
“A hundred thousand!"
‘‘The pleasantry is very great, but it
is a pleasantry. ’’
Then the count, very pale, said,
“And what if 1 crack your head?”
“My brother officers are waiting for
mo,” Bernardet simply replied. “They
know that our interview does not prom
ise to be a long one, and this last propo
sition, which I wish to forget like the
others, would only aggravate, I believe,
if it became known, M. le Comte's ease ’
Two minutes afterward tho banker
went out, preceding Bernardet, who
followed him with bared head. The
banker said to his employees, in an easy
tone: "Goodby for the moment, mes
sieurs. 1 will return soon.”
It was also Bernardet who, visiting
the Bank Hants-Plateaux, said to bi>
chief, "M. Morel, something very sen
ous is taking place there. ”
“What is it. Bernardet?’'
“1 do not know, but there is a meet
ing of tlie bank directors, and today 1
saw two servants carry a man in there
in an invalid’s chair It was the Baron
do Cheylard. ”
“Well?”
“Baron Cheylard, in his quality of
ex-senator of the second empire, of ex
president- of the council, an ex-cominis
sioner of industrial expositions, is grand
cross of the Legion of Honor. Grand
CouLnuci on f >mth i>
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DeLOACH MILL MFG. COMPANY, Atlanta, Ga., G. S. A. I
.. 165 Washington St., New York City. Itl S. flth St., St. Louis, Mo.
Tii >sc interested in Mi?hin ",y .can see tH • h.ri Isom; 1397 Gii iloj i* of tlis
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Jg==i;Mr is a journey that was never maue by better If yff
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IGLEHEART’S I
§ Swans Down Flour I
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IGLEHKART BROS., EVANSVILLE, IND. H
A. R.ROBERTSON
Monuments and Tombstone Works.
ATHENS, GA..
I have always on hand and for sale a large stock of
MONUMENTS TOMBSTONES
At RO C K 11 OTT O M l'Rl CE S.
MOXl” MK N ’l' S, TOM B, II F. Al> and FO O T STONES
An and CKAI)J.K T O M H S.
You should always go and see RO 15 EIIT S O V Sand get his prices
Itcmemkor ROIJFKTSOX Fays all the Freight to your nearest depot.
A. I!. ROBERTSON.,
115 Thomas St.,
Athens, Ga.
NORTHEASTERN R. R. OF CEORCIA
II.TUIIN Al ill Ns IMU.I I.A
TIME TABL r‘ X'o’2. To Take Effect Oct. I*. ISH7.
SOUTHBOUND X( R THBOI NO
_ __ l3 10 14
n'lih Daily lLily NOIITHEASTERN tt.VILUD.VD STATIONS. l„lv Daily Drily
lixSu
.... Ar AM r.M. A.M
i M P. M A.M
, ... . N mi* son 7sn
s* * v,s . •
oo 8 .12 U \ijivsvin** ** 1 M
f. JO BKi 11 liacmoiiv Drove . 4“ 713 * •*>
*% 12 :** . I.v A M I* M AM
vAI 1* M A u. >v. SlZilU, Auditor*
K. K. IU.aVE, Suite A&nt
NO. 12.