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ifJI'RWEIf
TA*y*? '' V~~ Translation Copyrighted, ,8,,
Had the hurricane wrecked the old
lighthouse? Was the whole island to
be destroyed? Had some calamity be
fallen the watcher in the tower? The
people waited a few minutes in terrified
silence, hoping to see the light flame
out again, but it remained dark.
“I must go up there; something must
have happened,” said one in an anxious
voice.
“Jan, are you here? Why are you not
r ”“
" "JA.N, ARE I(U.' HKHV.y
at your post?” exclaimed a number of
the men.
There was a rush down the dike
toward the tower gate which soon shook
with their vigorous knocks and blows.
Jan tried to justify himself by declar
ing that the governor had sent him to
the assistance of the herdsmen. No
one listened to him, for the excited
crowd was endeavoring to open the
great gate. They did not succeed in
opening the heavy oaken door, nor the
side doors that were likewise closed and
barred, and no one opened from within.
Soon a dull, booming sound mingled
with the deep orchestral tones of the
elements, and after a few minutes, was
repeated—the booming of cannon! A
large vessel in danger and the light out
—the light which should have revealed
to it its whereabouts, should have
shown that land was near, sandbanks
and shoals, and men who were ready
to ucip as soon as they were a ole vu
cope with the storm.
Vain all effort! The little band of
men before the great gate was utterly
helpless, a mere nothing. A bulwark
built by men mocked its builders—they
had outdone themselves. While nature
sang in their ears the old, old story of
destruction, she gave no sign of a res
urrection.
"A happy heart beats in ray breast,
But a heavy weight upon it lies.”
So sang Mary a, “The Stranger,” as,
in the gray dawn, the heavy door yield
ed to the blows of the sledges, and
opened the way to the lantern. She
sat upon the topmost step, her hands
clasped about her knees, her glitter
ing eyes gazing out into the twilight
across the foaming sea.
“Heavens! The girl has gone mad,”
muttered one of the men, as they were
brought to a standstill in the narrow
stairway, while Mayra took no notice
of them whatever.
The storm had spent its fury. The
sobbing of the sea told how great it
had been. The pale twilight still
veiled the traces of its rage from eager
eyes—the breach in the outer-dike—
the inundation of the meadows, and
above • all, the hull of a large boat,
which, rocked by the waves, was at last
thrown upon the strand, while pieces
of the wreck still floated upon the
waves—a plank, a cask, a spar. The
twilight veiled, too, a bark, which, as
the storm abated, sought a landing up
on the eastern shoe of the island. It
had suffered great damage; its sails and
rigging hung in shreds from broken
masts, but the hull still held together.
On board were a number of men, pale
and exhausted, who had been picked
up half an hour before from floating
fragments of the ship, which, during
the night, had sounded in vain its sig
nals of distress. Land was reached in
safety
“Take the men to the lighthouse to
be cared for lam going on ahead to
see what has happened there,” said
Hans Frerik, the commander of the
boat. Five minutes later he was on his
way.
“Let me go to her,” he cried, when
they had told him of Marya’s strange
■conduct.
As she heard his voice and saw his
haggard face appear on the stairs at her
feet, she uttered a shrill laugh and then
burst into bitter weeping. Without
another word, Hans took the unresist
ing girl in his arms, carried her to the
JittJe room below, and there, her head
found the place where busy Hans was
at work. The two had always been
friends, but now they became the most
devoted companions. Hans watched
anxiously every morning until the little
•one came running over the dike in her
little wooden shoes, seated herself upon
a log and began her eager prattle.
The boat was soon finished. One day
Marie came, but not alone; it was Marya,
at whose reluctant hand the child
tugged in her impatience to reach her
friend. Like a phantom, her figure was
outlined against the sky, as she stood
motionless for a moment upon the sum
mit of the dike before descending its
grassy slope with slow ind weary steps.
Hans knew who was coming and mut
tered: “Foolish heart, be auiet,”
Quite exhausted with her walk, Marya
was obliged to sit down at once.
“I congratulate you on your recov
ery. Marya, said Flans. “It is better
for you to come out with Marie, and
no longer mope in the house. It must
have gone pretty hard with you—you
are as white as anew saiL Wi 1 you
not have a bit of bread?”
lie brought out his frugal lunch and
urged her to share it with him, but she
shook her head as she brushed the dark
tresses back from her pale brow with
an almost transparent hand.
“Keep on with your work—l would
rather you would do that than look at
me so pitifully, and then 1 can say bet
ter what 1 have to say. Hans Frerik, I
must become your wife, but do not tell
a single soul I offered myself. I came
here with the child to tell you, because
no one is here to listen to what we say.”
Hans Frerik fairly opened his mouth
in astonishment; then, seizing his ham
mer, he struck a bolt in the boat such a
vigorous blow that the pale young
woman trembled with the shock.
Throwing the hammer aside, he said;
“Do not be offended because I am so
clumsy, for you know that Ia n an
awkward fellow. Don't look down
there at those cattle, Marya—they will
get their food without your watching—
look into my face and tell me why you
now want for a husband one whom you
formerly could not bear in your sight.”
“I do not ask that you shall be my
husband, but I must be your wife,” an
swered Marya, without turning her
eyes.
“Is it not all the same?” asked Hans.
She shook her head. “Grandfather
told me that last day, that you are the
wisest man on the island, that you have
thoughts that never come to anyone
else. If that is true, you must surely
understand me now. Am I, poor, mis
erable creature, really so strange that
no one can understand me?”
An expression of wise comprehension
shone in Hans Frerik’s face, but ho
only replied: “Can a ship keep on its
course without a rudder? Can I under
stand how you came to change your
mind about me unless ! can read the
thoughts that, lie hidden in your brain?
But no—you women have your reason
in your heart —that must account ior it.”
“Not this time,” answered Marya; “1
wanted to be rid of you, and in an evil
hour committed a crime. No one has
said a harsh word to me about it, but 1
cannot rest, and will nevermore bo at
peace until 1 am your wife —that is, if
you still want me after all that horror.
I will be a true and faithful wife to
you.”
She spoke more and more rapidly
and looked up at him as anxiously as
if she expected a crushing thunderbolt
to fall with his refusal. Hans laid his
broad shoulder against one of the hind
most supports that served to hold the
boat upright, and, after considerable
effort, the prop gave way and fell upon
the sand, lie loosened another and still
another, for the boat was finished and
ready to Me launched. The honest fel
low did this in order to gain time for a
much greater effort than the physical
one had been.
“Speak to me just one word,” pleaded
the young woman.
I kins folded his hands behind him,
with averted eyes fixed upon a boat
pushing out to sea. *' I know you should
still be gently dealt with, Marya, but,
although I do not know how to say it,
it must be said. 1 cannot accept your
offer.”
Marya did not cry out, but a dark
flush crept , over her face. “O, Hans
Frerik, consider that 1 was not in my
right mind when I put out the lights in
the lantern. 0, my God, what is to be
come of me! If it were not for my
child, the sea would be the best resting
place for me. I might have known you
would scorn and despise one who could
do such a terrible deed.” She groaned
and tried to rise.
“Hush!” Ilans cried, almost rudely,
“How do you know what I think of
you now? But,” he continued more
gently, “you do not know your own
mind, Marya. You want to marry me
because you cannot endure me, and the
heavier the burden you can take tip
the better you will like it. In this
way you think you can atone for the
wrong you have done. Tell me, is it
not so?”
As Marya merely nodded, he con
tinued: “Your guilt is only imaginary.
Heaven had so confused your mind in
that dark hour that you did not
know what you did. The storm, with
all its terrors, came without your help
—you did not cause the stroke that
killed your grandfather. So you think
I could take you for my wife when I
know that you look upon marriage with
me as a punishment? No, Marya, you
have often abused us fish-heads who
are true to the old customs, but we are
not so cold-blooded that, out of love for
those customs, we would bring unhap
piness to a single soul. Best assured
that neither the living nor the dead
shall eve. know aught that has passed
between us this day: there is my hand
on it. Now you had better go back to
the house, for you might take cold in
this keen wind. Come, Marie, I’ll carry
you home.”
Marj-a hurried on in advance; it
seemed to her that the blue canopy of
heaven must crush down upon her.
The words she had just heanl sank
deeper and deeper into her heart and
built {here an altar upon which was
placed an image that was very like the
grave, strong face of Hans Frerik.
“Don’t hurry so,” called a voice from
behind them. They stopped, and as
they turned saw three men —one of
them Jan, who had just landed from a
ship and was now following Hans and
Marva.
“Well, how are things in Hamburg?”
asked 11 a us.
“Oil, wonderful!” exclaimed Jan. “A
frightful tiling has happened and a
fellow from this island is the chief one
iu it.” -
“Karl!” cried Marya.
“Yes, Karl,” assented Jan, and he
proceeded to recount the horrible story,
which was well spiced by the oaths and
imprecations "of the other two men.
The young man had been at his new
post but a short time when he was dis
charged for conduct unseemly in the
eyes of his highly-respected employers,
lie then spent a few days of dissipation
in the underground quarters of the sea
port. In one of the most notorious of
these resorts gambling in its very
worst form was carried on, and Karl
was a frequenter of the place. He had
discovered his latest favorite cheating
and had accused her of it In replying
to the charge the girl had used both
teeth and nails. A row had ensued, the
whole crowd taking sides against Karl.
This, together with other circumstances
of an unsavory nature, had shown him
in wliat a serious affair he had become
involved. In wild rage he had drawn
his knife and stabbed the girl, and now
awaited trial behind bolt and bar.
This Dews caused great excitement
among the islanders; each felt his own
honor stained by the crime. By the ad
vice of the new governor it was decided
that Karl, the unworthy son of the
island, who had before this caused
trouble, and who had now become a
notorious criminal, should be dismissed
from the community, even if the law
spared his life and condemned him only
to years of imprisonment. He might
look about to find where the world had
room for him. There would be noneon
his native island.
One man did not share in this judg
ment, and that was Ilans Frerik. He
was not blamed for it, however, for
among the more or less closely related
inhabitants of the island he was Karl’s
nearest relative. The real reason for his
refusal was not known to anyone. Only
Marya suspected it, and was right in
her suspicion. She said to herself that
Ilans did not wish to pain her by con
curring in this sentence of banishment
against her lover. She was the only
one who maintained silence about the
affair. No one knew what she thought
about it. On the day Jan had brought
the news she had gathered together all
her possesions, taken her child by the
hand, left the lighthouse and had gone
to live with her Aunt Meta.
In the first days in her new home,
Marya had frequently to leave the
house, for she missed the free air, and
the wide outlook from the tower. It
seemeifto her, at times, that she would
choke within the narrow walls under
the low roof, and, when she went out
she was met by the dike, that, like the
walls of a prison, shut in her gaze from
her beloved sea. Still Aunt Meta was
obliged to acknowledge that the rest
less, alien spirit was now under con
trol, for Marya went about her duties
with ail humility, scorning neither
wheel nor loom.
The shoals soon arrived. All the
boats that were spared by the great
storm prepared for sea. They put out
together and all hands were busy.
Even the women were occupied, for
they had to look after the supply of
bait which was laboriously dug out of
the sand very near the edge of the
water. Marya shared in this work as
she had in all the household duties. She
liked digging for the “pieren,” as the
leech-like Worms were called, best of all,
for it took her to the shore beyond the
inclosure of the dikes. Here were seen
many women, with bodies bent, over
turning the sand with their toothed
spades. Marya worked zealously. She
enjoyed the fresh sea breeze that
fanned her cheeks, the gray clouds that
floated about her, the sea gulls that
flapped and screamed about her, the
sails that glided away in the
distance —with nothing more to wish
for, she dug away as eagerly as any of
her companions.
As the boats were to leave with the
outgoing tide, the women had to work
rapidly, for already the water had
reached high tide. Suddenly there came
from the shore farther down, where the
men were busy with their boats in the
little haven, a loud cry, followed by a
deathlike stillness. They all stopped
to listen, shading their eyes with their
hands to see if they could make out
what was going on. Marya felt her
knees tremble and, her blood cease to
flow in her veins, for she was still sen
sitive enough to believe that every
calamity upon their lonely island was
directed toward her. “Marie!” escaped
her white lips. Marie was, to be sure,
the cause of the outcry from the men,
for the child, playing around unnoticed
by anyone, had suddenly been discov
ered in great danger. But some one was
bringing her safe and sound—of course
it was good Hans Frerik—although
drenched and trembling, to the shore.
In her play, the child had ventured out
too far; the tide had overtaken her
while she was upon a hillock of sand,
and, in a minute, had changed it into a
little island, thus cutting off her retreat.
M ater is a poor conductor of sound; be
fore the men heard her cries, it had
crept over her little feet, and an incom
ing wave had thrown her down and
was carrying the little body onward
with it. At that moment, Ilans Frerik
happened to look up from his work, and,
with a frantic dash, sprang into the
water in the direction in which he had
seen the little white face. Here and
there the little wooden shoes rose to
the surface —the waves seemed to play
cricket with them.
“She is not hurt.” said Hans, as
Marya came running in advance of the |
other women. “Take her home, put
dry clothes on her and make her some
tea. ”
"Hans, won’t yon come after awhile
and inquire about my child? 1 beg you
to do it,” said Marya, who then hurried |
away to escape the curious crowd that
was gathering.
An hour later found Ilans at Marya’s
house. She was sitting at her Aunt
Meta's wheel, while in her face the
color came and went in quick flushes,
betraying her restless expectancy. Or
a footstool at her side sat little Marie,
busy with a little wheel, vainly trying
to make it keep time with her mother's.
“1 have come because you asked me,”
said Hans. “How lucky that the salt
bath did not harm the little rogue.”
Marya pushed aside the wheel and
her basket of work and stepped close
in front of the rescuer of her child.
“Hans, I have something I must say
to you—” but here she hesitated, though
her hand still rested on his shoulder.
Each suddenly felt a hot flush glow on
cheek and brow, while every breath
came almost with a little gasp, but
neither moved. Suddenly, as if by in
spiration, Marya took her child in her
arms and held her toward Hans.
“Marie, ask him to be your father and
my husband, because we both love him
better than all the wide world.”
“Marya, Marva, is this true?” cried
Ilans, as he clasped both mother and
child in his strong arms. Sin- nodded,
and then for awhile Marie was entirely
unnoticed, the two were so absorbed in
K 3?^
y TK'
OF COURSE IT WAS GOOD HANS FRERIK.
each other. The child seized the oppor
tunity to try her mother’s wheel, and
as she carelessly tossed the wool and
yarn about she began to sing:
“A happy heart beats in my breast,
But a heavy weight upon it lies.”
“No, no, Marie,” said the young
mother, smiling in the midst of tears,
“we'll not sing that song any more,
but we will learn another one that is
sung here upon the island. When, in
the long winter ewmings, the wheel
hums and the wind howls, we will siDg
it so well that the white-capped waves
will peep wonderingly over the dike to
listen to us.”
Good Ilans Frerik took his happy
bride again in his arms. Then came
Aunt Meta, who took great care that
the pretty story of Marya’s change of
heart should be quickly spread over
the whole island.
From that day Marya ceased to be
“The Stranger.”
[the end.]
GLADSTONE DISCOMFITED.
An Unexpected Answer from a Frieat
Takes His Hreath Away.
What a diverting scene was that
when a certain witty Irist priest was
invited to breakfast with Mr. Glad
stone, then in power, to meet a strange
gathering of “thinkers,” advanced and
others, to whom, in his quiet, but none
the less effective style, he addressed his
pleasant rallyings.
Of a sudden, says the Gentleman’s
Magazine, the great man, with one
of those curious turns to which he is
partial, amid all the laughter, became
grave and preternaturally solemn.
Lowering his voice into conspiracy
tones, as though big with some coming
revelation, he said, mysteriously:
“What will you say to this, Fr. II ,
when I tell you that on my last visit to
Italy I saw on the door of the Church of
S. Agnese a table of indulgences, and
actually -saw written up there a remis
sion of one thousand years of punish
ment on of one franc?”
Everyone bent forward to listen.
True, there was no apropos; but here
the divine was likely to be “cornered.”
With that intensity of tone which is
characteristic of the eminent statesman
he went on:
“Yes, Fr. II , I saw it with my
own eyes. A thousand years for a sin
gle franc! What do you say to that?”
“What do I say?” said the padre, gay
ly; “why, I say it was dirt cheap!
What more would you want for your
money?”
The roar of laughter at this unex
pected sally may be imagined. But the
comic contrast was the face of the
great man, who still continued solemn.
For him it was too serious a thing for
jesting. lie would have liked to renew
the subject, but it was impossible.
QUEER FAD.
A New York Society Girl Wears a Differ
ent Style of Ilat Pins for Every .Month.
We are told of a rather original idea
on the part of a society girl who frankly
enjoys her little fad, says the New York
Tribune. She has had made for her
twelve pairs of bonnet pins, and she
wears each set one month of the year.
The stones are chosen to symbolize as
nearly as possible the characteristics of •
the months. For January, pearls rep
resent snow; rainy February has aqua-
murine; March has purple crocus-col
ored amethyst; April daffodil colored
topaz: the young green of May is repre
sented by emeralds, and June roses by
pink pearls; sunshiny July has dia
monds, and deep-blue sapphires repre
sent the summer seas and cloudless
skies of August; September’s early
changes are represented by cat’s eyes;
garnets typify October; the gray skies,
cold-looking red sunsets and wood fires
of November are shown by opals, while
the glowing red (ires of December, with
their Christmas cheer, have the ruby as
the emblem of the month. It 1s a pretty
conceit, and like many another little
oddity gives an expression to what
might otherwise be commonplace.
The dolls-hair business of the world
is said to amount to forty million dollars
a year, all of which is controlled by an
English syndicate. The hair is the
product of the Angora goat.
A FAIR JAPANESE,
She Is an Interesting Student in an
American College.
One of the most industrious stu
i dents of Radcliffe college, says the
| St. Louis Republic, is Miss Shids
Mori, a Japanese girl. Her father is
a wealthy banker of Yanagawa, Ki
: ushu, Japan, and all the family are
■ devoted Christians. Miss Mori has
| come to this country*to fit-herself by
| study for missionary work in her na
tive country. “I came over,” she
says, “with Mp. aryl Mrs. Davis, who
are missionaries to Japan, sent out
by the Methodist church. My fa
ther was converted and baptized into
the Presbyterian church, and I was
educated in Japan in a mission.school
directed by Congregational is ts. I
do not think the denomination makes
any difference. All ] care for is the
Christian church at large,, and so l do
not pay any attention at all to the
differences in the creeds. Mr. Davis
was settled about fifty miles, that is
about eighty of your miles, from m v
home, and T went to their home and
lived for a little while before T came
to this country. My father thought
1 might better do so to get used to
American food and learn to eat with
a knife and fork and to wear the
American dress, etc. No, T do not
think it is so pretty as the Japanese
dress, and the waists of your drosses
Ido not like. W r e do not wear any
corset, you know, with our Japanese
dress, and we are so much more com
fortable all the time, especially in
the summer. But, the lower part of
your dresses seems better to me; the
underwear and skirts of your dresses
I like; they are easier to get about in.
Oh. really, very much T like America,
what of it I have seen. And the
American girls, they seem so bright
to me and so nice. I like them very
much.”
NAMES OF CHILDREN.
Custom of Baptismal Christening and
Odd Results of Mistakes.
Down to the early part of the
present century it was usual to name
a child after the saint on whose day
he happened to be born.' A writer
to Notes and Queries in 1853 states
that he had recently baptized a child
by the name of Benjamin Simon
Jude. On his expressing some sur
prise at this somewhat singular con
junction of names, he was informed
that the birth had taken place on
the festival of SS. Simon and Jude,
and that it was always considered
very unlucky to take the day from a
child.
The custom of naming children
after any particular saint has fallen
iaty general disuse, except in those
countries where the population is
composed almost entirely of Romarf
Catholics. The giving of a name iq
baptism is really no essential part
of the rite, but is merely a custom
derived apparently from the Jews,
and which through long practice has
become an important element in the
ceremony.
Many instances might be fur
nished of children wno have inad
vertently received wrong names.
The registers in Warminster church
contain the following entries:
“1790, January 17, Charles, daugh
ter of John and Betty Haines. This
child ought to have been christened
Charlotte, but owing to mistake of
his sponsors was wrong named.”
“1791, July 31, William, daughter
of William and Sarah Weidick. N.
B.—lt was intended that this child,
being a girl, should have been chris
tened Maria, but through a mistake
of the godfather it was named Wil
liam.”—Westminster Review.
An Interesting Discovery.
A discovery has just been made in
the catacombs of Romo which prom
ises to be of singular importance in
the history of Christian worship and
liturgiology. Pralat Wilpert, a Si
lesian archaeologist, has come upon
a cycle of four paintings of the very
earliest Christian art belonging to
the first half of the second century,
one of which represents a celebra
tion of the Eucharist. The paint
ings were found in a chapel of the
St. Priscilla catacombs which has
been open to inspection for at least
a hundred years, and yet this in
teresting treasure has lain all that
time concealed and unsuspected. It
was hidden under a crust of stalac
tite, so that no trace of colors, and
certainly none of figures, was per
ceptible to the ordinary observer.
Pralat Wilpert, however, declared
that he could discern signs of color
ing, and w T as allowed to experiment
upon it. He dissolved the stalactite
crust by a chemical process, and
was rewarded by the revelation of
the remarkable paintings, a full de
scription of which is to be published.
—Westminster Gazette.
Surgical Diet.
What is known as surgical diet is
worth trying once in awhile for the
comfort of the stomach and complex
ion. It includes milk and bread and
butter, broiled beef, old mutton,
eggs and prunes. Milk, butter and
eggs are regarded as the best ani
mal foods, because less force is ex
pended in their digestion, an impor
tant item in medical and surgical
work, —West Chester (Pa.) News.
■;/Dong’Wives
Who aro for the first time to
’r.dergo woman’s severest trial
o off or *
' '’Mothers Friend”
A r unedy *vhich. if used as directed a few
.veeks before confinement, robs it of its
PAIN, HORROR AND RISK TO LIFE
•f b'fih mother and child, as thousands who
have u=ed it testify.
11 1 nod two bottles of Mothfrs Friend with
marvelous > esu'ts, and wish every woman
v. ho has <, pass through the ordeal of child birth to
1 ow if they will use Mothers Friend for a few
weeks it will robconfinement of fain and suffering.
and insure safety to life of mother and child.''
Mrs. Sam Hamilton, Montgomery City,Mo,
Rent by express, charges pre-aid, on receipt of
price, jU.s'i per bottle Sold by all druggists, nook
Fo Mothers mailed
Hradeield Regulator Cos.. Atlanta, Ga.
IT PUPS.
Effervescent, too.
Exhilarating, appetizing.
Just the thing to build up the
constitution.
Hires’ Rootbeer
Wholesome and strengthening,
pure blood, free from boils or
carbuncles. General good health
—-results from drinking HIRES 9
Rootbeer the year round.
Package makes five gallons, 25c.
Ask your druggist or grocer for it.
Take no other.
Send scent stamn to the Charier, H. Hires
Cos., 117 A r ch S., Philadelphia, tor beauti*
tul picture cards.
E. & W. E. E. OF ALA.
No 1 Pahhenger—W No 2 Passenger—East
DAILY. DAILY.
Lv Cartensville 10.10 am.! Lv Pell City 8.30 am
“ Stllesboro,. 10.36 “ “ Coal City 9.18 “
“ Tayl’rsv’le 10.48 “ “ Hagland 10.45 ••
“ Rockmart .11.11 “ Duke’s 12.20 pm
“ firmly 11.32 “ “ Piedmont.... 1.36 “
" Cedartown..l2,oo m I “ Warner's 2.12 “
“ Warner's ..12.200 ml •• Cedartown... 2.50 “
“ Piedmont,.. 1.05 ” j “ Grady 3.06 ••
“ Duke’H .. 2,27 “ 1 “ Rock inert ... 3.26 "
“ Knit bind. .. 3,38 •• I “ Tayl’rsv’le.. 3.47 “
“ Coal City.... 4,20 ” j " .Stileslioro ... 4.00 "
kr Pell City .. 4.45 ” ! Ar.Oartersvllte.. 4.25“
No 3 Passenger—West No 4 Passenger—East
DAILY EX. SUNDAY. DAILY EX. SUNDAY.
Lv Cartersville...s.3spm I.v Cedartown...6.ss am
“ Stllesboro 5.52 •• Grady 7.10 ”
“ Taylorsville 11 Ml “ “ Rockmart 7.30 “
“ Hoekmart 6,30 Taylorsville..7.s7 •
'• Grady 6.60 •• > •• Stllesboro 8.02 ■*
“ Cedartown....7.os “ lAr atCartersville 825 “
N0.5 Passenger—west No. 6 Passenger—Easi
SUNDAY ONLY. | SUNDAY ONLY.
Lv Cariersvllle . t lO p m I Lv Cedartown...*.oo a in
“ Stllesboro....s 03 “ I•• Grady 8.15 **
" Taylorsville 5.14 “ “ Hock mart.... 8.35 “
“ Hock mart.. .. 6 .30 “ 1 ” Taylorsville 8.58
" Grady 6.30 “ | “ 5t11e5b0r0....0.07 “
Ar Cedartown...7.os "lAr Carteraville..o.3o •*
Ta*c
Fofi ( AV M \CoSTIV£NESS
oyspeps/a / ;! "[0 Sick oft
Indigestion ( xjr \Henvoas-
B/l/OUSNESs\ / HEADACHE.
tl/L/OUSHESS \ JAUPOICE
Sourness OF'qe&j. gjl ass or
Stomach Appetite
None Genuine Without The Likeness And
Signature orM.A.THEor mo on FhontOe
Each Wrapper. M.A.Thedford Med.<2*
~ . y Rome.ga.
Dolton Feiple College,
DALTOM, GA.
Having taken for another
three years term 1 propose to
build it up to a
HIGHER DEGREE OF EXCELLENCE
than it lias ever before known. If you
you wish your daughter
Well and Cheaply Educated
send her to Dalton. Wo enroll
Two Hundred Pupils.
of whom fifty are boarders. To insure
a place write at one. Desirable rooms
are taken first.
Address REV. G- J. ORR, Prcs’t.
sfff) ELECTRIC TELEPHONE
tcdbiar Fold outright, no rent, no royalty.
p A!; to City. Village or Country. Needed in every
home, shop, store and office. Greatest conven
ience and
/Hi fr l '! i make from 85 to ISO iM rdry.
l.f ' w ttili One in a residence means a sale to all
neighbors. Fine instruments, no toys, worki
/_ A anywhere, any distance. Complete, ready for
} m j use when shipped. Can be put up by uny < Tie,
Vo q i never out of order, no repairing, lasts a Ilf®
! j, rime. W.irranted. A money m 1 cr. Writ©
I—w. 1 —w. p. Harrison & Cos., Clerk 10, Columbus. 0,
lAsU. F ORA CASEDT W ILL NOT C U
An agreeable Laxative and NERVE TONIC.
Sold by Drug-gists or senu by mail. 25c.. 60c*
and SI.OO per package. Samples free.
irA 'MT A The Favorite TOCT3 FITOH
■ELw Teeth and Breath. 830.
bij 50c. E T. Haxeltuje, Wairea. v PI