The Fayetteville news. (Fayetteville, Ga.) 18??-????, April 21, 1893, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextTHE FAYETTEVILLE NEWS. Ftbllshti by THE HEWS PUBLISHING CO. Devoted to the Interests of Fayetteville, Fayette County, and the Publishers. SnbserlytlMi Price iljOO: VOL. 5. FAYETTEVILLE, EAYETTE COUNTY, GA., FRIDAY, APRIL 21, 1893. NO 37. Get Ont the Way, I olimbed the hill one wintry day, And mused my meditative way, And lost In various thought profouud, Oblivious to all around, I beard a shout ring loud and clear And smite In terror on my oar,— A shout that filled me with dismay, “Hi 1 Mister, therel Get out the way!” 1 looked and saw there in my road A double-runner with its load Of shouting, laughing, hooting boys— A solid freight of solid noise, “Hi! Mister, there! Get out the way!”— A most undiplomatic bray, A bold command without the stress Of auy corteous finesse, l did not make a long delay But I—welt, I ‘‘got out the way’,” My first thought was not one of peace, But one of vengeance and police; But then those boys, I thought again, Arc like alt other sons of men, All mount their sleds and shout each day, Hi! Mister, there! Get out the way!” tVe have ambitions shod with steel, Too swift to see, too hard to feel. We mount them in the hope to glide Down destiny’s steep mountain side, Aud lightning-swift through frosty gleams Dart these fast runners of our dreams, And loud we shout, a raucous bray, ‘‘Hi! Mister there! Get out the wuy !” We do not turn our coasters hack But warn all people off the track, We claim an unimpeded slopo Down all the highways of our hope. So, that our double-runners glide; I.et other men find room one side; And they’ can stand there in the suow And have the fun to see us so. And so we shout day after day, ‘‘Hi! Mister, therel Get out the way!” And so I stood there in the snow And watched the boys glide far below, And swift my thoughts were thoughts of peace— T had no use for the police. Do I not shout myself each day ‘ Hi! Mister, there! Get out the wav I” — [Sam. W. Foss, in Yankee Blade. HER DOUBLE GIFT. BY LAURA LAKSlELDf. ‘•A lady wishes to see you, sir,” laid the staid man servant to Dr. Hall. It was past 10 at night, and the physi cian looked up in some surprise. “Show the lady in, please,” he said, aud rose as a slim young figure)glidcd into the room. Iler face was covered with a veil; her garments wore black. She came forward quickly. “You are Dr. Hall?” she said. “Yes, I am. May 1 ask ” “I will not keep you many min utes,” she said; her manner was agi tated, her voice almost trembled. “You have a patient in your care— Mr. Deveraux.” A little distantly Dr. Hall said again—“Yes.” The girl—she was plainly no more suddouly threw back her veil, reveal ing a pale, lovely face, with delicate features. “You want to know who l am,” she said, “and by what right 1 ask these questions. 1 have no right, hut I beg of your mercy timt you will an swer mo. I hoard of his illness—that you nlmost give him up. Is that true?” “Yes it is,” said the doctor, gontly. “My linmo is Dorothy Clifford,’* said the girl. A Hush swept over her cheek as the doctor gave a little start. “You know my name?” site faltered. “From my patient,” said Dr. Hall; “nothing lie has told me—simply the name he has repeated unconsciously.’' “Then perhaps you guess,” she said in low voice. “1 am that Dorothy lie speaks of. A yonr ago wo were lovers —engaged. I thought I had reason to accuse him of imfaiih. Wo parted.’’ “Ah,” said the doctor, “I know there was some cause for this break down besides the frightful hardships lie 1ms been through in America. Do you want me to let you see him?” “No—no—I I want you to tell me if lie must die—if it is true that there is but one chance for him—if I can givo him that chancel It was all my fault, doctor 1 lie was true; it was my madness that parted us. You must let me atone—give my life for his if ncod lie; but lie must not know who has saved hint __ “Do you know what his one chance Is?” said the doctor, gravely. “A dangerous operation raroly practiced dangerous to both Iho persons oper ated upon—what wo call transfusion of blood.” “1 will run the risk," said Doro thy, with her eyes flashing. “j broke his heart—1 sent him into those hard ships that have shattered his health I I will give him my hculih—my life I Esrio need not know” “My poor child,” said the physi cian, -in deep pity, “he will know nothing—lie is almost unconscious— but I have doubts ahuiit this’' The doctor slightly shook his I o.id— he did not think his patient was a man likoly to mend a broken life in that easy fashion. But lie liosi-d all the girl hud to urge and questioned hor in his turn. The girl pleaded frantically with sobs and loars, and at last Dr. JlalJ computed, The patient himself knew nothing about it; ho lay iu the lethargy that precedes death and was only faintly conscious at intervals. There was very little chance that lie would be aware of Dorothy’s presence in his room. Indeed, when she entered it she stood by his sido for a full iniuuto without his stirring. Tho girl her self seemed scarcely to feol at all. Before her, scnseloss, dying, lay tho inau sho had loved passionately through nil her angry mistrust and injustice; yet nevor a quiver ciuno over her beautiful face. She went through the painful oper ation without a murmur—nay, with an oxultnnt smile. Each drop of her blood transfused into the veins of the dying man was so much towards atonement. “Still living,” was the doctor’s re port to Dorothy tho next day; and he went buck to Devrcaux, at whose side he almost lived. Tho womiiu, healthy, vigorous, recovered rapidly; the man, who, besides anguish of soul, had en dured enough cold and fumine to shatter a less flue constitution, strug* gled painfully with death, (hough he did not care for life. Then life conquered. “But after all site lias done him a cruel kindiiess,” thought tho pliysiciun. “What has life to givo him? - ’ “So wo are not going to lose you yet,” lie said, cheerfully, coining to tiie young man’s bedside one morn ing. Dovereiix’s only answer to this promise of life was to look up iu tho kind face with eyes full of pain. “Don’t you care to live?” said the doctor, huskily. Dcvercux silently turned his eyes away. They wandered over tho room as if they sought something. An odd fooling crept Into the doctor’s heart. “What is it you wont—or is it that you miss something?” ho snid. “Nothing,” Dcvercux murmured; but constantly the doctor detected that searching, wistful glance. lie began to understand. The young man grow stronger in spite of his apntliy—tho physical need of life triumphed, and one day he began to ask questions: What had he talked about when ho was delirious? Who had been with him—only tho doctor and (he nurse? “No one else, and we don’t notice sick people’s chatter,’’ said Dr Hall, smiling. “I thought there was some one else," said Devereux, with a sigh; “perhaps it was a dream.” “I dure say. Who did you dream of?” “She was here—I felt her. I don’t think it was a dream. Doctor,” lift ing himself aud looking eager, “you don’t answer me— did she come?” “Hush!” said tho doctor, soothing ly. “Yes; sho was here—Dorolhv Cliflord.” “lkuewit! 1 knew it!" Deve reux whisporod, trembling like a child. “Did she come to say good- by?” “Devereux,” said tho doctor, “i made hor promise, and 1 dnro not bronk it; 1 cannot answer yon; but that questiou to her.” “She will not cotnc, ’ Devereux said hopelessly. “She will—I know (lie whole story ; never mind how. i Will scud for hor; you ahull ask hor that question. You arc puzz'od. Weil, sleep now if you cau—1 will wake you when 1 bring her.’’ Devereux, too weak or anything but mule wonder, obeyed. The doctor left tho bouse and drove rupidly to Dorothy Cliflord. Sho thought he had come to give his daily report. “IJc goes ou slowly but well,” said Dr. Hull. “I have como to fetch you to him.” “1!” She started back, crimson, quivering. “Impossible! You have not (old him?" “You must come,” said tho doctor, sternly. “I have told him nothing— somehow ho has found out.in part.” Sho went to get ready, sat silout in the carriage, and crept upstairs be hind the doctor like a guilty thing, to the sick room. Devereux was lying back among tho pillows, looking at iho two as tlioy camo into tho room. Mute, with bowed head, tho woinau stood beside tho man siio had wronged. Sho waited for him to speak. “Dorothy!” he whisherod. She trembled. “Put your hand in mine,” he said. “Kneel down, so that I can see you; I have only a questiou to nsk.” She obeyed—kuclt down and put her hand in ids, bonding hor head lower Ilian before. “You camo before—days ago,’’ Devereux said, in slow, half halting ionos; “when they snid I was dying. I kew you were hero. Why did you come?’' Sho flushed soarlot. “To save your life,” sho mid. “YouI you saved ill” She turned her head asido; her dry lips moved mechanically. “It was your ono chance. Now let tne go. You bade me cotnc, and 1 came—answer you, and I obeyed. I linve had euough of torture—let me go.” “Darling, come to me.” The strength of a child in his clasp, but sho yielded to it helplessly. She cried silent, passionate tears, and he kissed them away, and hushed her prayers for pardon. “How can I forgive?” he whispered. “You have given of your life to save mine. You havo atoned. Kiss me and stay with me now and forever.” ****** “Doctor,” aaid Devereux, an hour later, “I do want to live now.” “Ah I 1 thought yon would. I kept uiy promise, didn’t I?’’ “Yes. God bless you for ail your kindness.” “Oh, that’s nothiug. Now will you try and sleep?" “Promise you will give my bride to me when the time conies.” “You doar, grateful follow,with al] my heart!" And so he did before long and sent tho two away together to begin the life they had so nearly missed. — [N. Y. Advertiser. Two Sorts of Men May Laugh Well. A prominent Wall street banker and broker, who is reputed to be worth about ten millions, walked from his private office the other morning into llie outer room, where was gathered a number of his friends and customers. He was laughing so heartily that his chcoks were highly flushed, and the merry peals echoed and re-echoed through tho room. Everybody turned to look at him, aud every other faco but one wore a sympathetic smile. The single exception looked very grave, and watched the merry broker with intentucss. When the banker’s laughter had ceased he went backiuto Ins ofliee, and the grave man said to a companion: “JIc laughs heartily, does he noi? Yes, it is easy for him to laugh, whereas it is very hard for mauy others. There are two kinds of men who thoroughly understand and ap preciate laughter, iu whom this ex pression of merriment is spontaneous, light-hearted, and without a tinge of the sarcastic or bitter. One kind is the rich, successful men who are be yond ordinary cares and liarassmeuts, and have learned to enjoy the power of wealth. They can turn from any annoyance or grief to the contempla tion of their success and be happy. The other kiud includes those rare be ings who are poor and don’t attempt to get rich. The plantation negro is a type of this class, and occasionally one encounters a white man who is imbued with the spirit of the proverb, •As we journey through life, let us live by the way.’ But I must say the rich man’s laughter sounds much more musical iii my ears. The poor man’s contains a little dcflance and reckless ness, no matter how sincere it is. It seems to say, ‘Well, what of it? I’m poor, but who cares?’ The rich man’s merriment, on the contrary, is free from anything objectionable. It car ries with it an intimation or power, and if there is a suggestion of surfeit in it, is that an objection? Who would not like to drink so deep from the cup of pleasure as to mako pleasure lose its novelty? Wouldn’t we all like to try ii? I think.so. I only ask that 1 may laugh like tho rich man. secure that my merriment today will not bo soured by reverses tomorrow.” — [New York Sun. No More Objections Were Made. A laughable story is told about town concerning A. II. Hummel, the crimi nal and theatrical lawyor. Every one knows that Mr. Huinmol is not above tho avorage staturo of man (physical stature), and every one who lias seen him in court knows how quickly and often lie can jump up to make objec tions when lie thinks them necessary. It seems that ho camo in collision a littlo while ago with ox-Judgo Ditteii- hoofer, wlni was iu an objecting mood, and lie was greatly irritated by ’the latter’s deliberate methods. Appeal ing finally to the court, he said: “Your honor, it ir not the gentle man’s objections that I make excep tion to, lint it takes him so long to get t^aud sit down.” Mr. Diltenhocfer slowly arose and replied as follows: “Your honor, I possess a good deal of avoirdupois, and it requires some exertion for mo to move. 1 am not like my little frieud there (pointiug to Hummel), who has oulv to slide out of his ohalr to find himself on his feet.” • It is said that Mr. Huuimel rnado no tuoro objections,—[New York Trib une. QUEER BIRDS. An Interesting Exhibit at the World's Far Series of Croups Prepared by the National Museum. One of Iho most picturesque features of the exhibit of the National Museum at tho world’s fair in Chicago will bo a series of groups of odd sorts of birds. These have been prepared by Dr. Robert Ridgway. The crocodile bird, for example, is illustrated by an actual crocodile about eight feet long, stuffed iu a life-like manner, with its mouth wide open, while along its back are walking two or three birds of this curious species. One of the latter is standing inside the month of the sauriau, pecking para sites from the reptile’s tongue. This is the kindly office which the bird per forms for the crocodile, at the same time procuring food for itself aud relieving its reptilian friend of annoy ance. So far as naturalists are aware, the latter nevor returns this kindness with tho ingratitude of gobbling its benefactors. Another group shows a pair of bower birds disporting themselves about their play house. Purely for the sake of amusement these quaint feathered creatures are accustomed to build covered structures of twigs and other materials, in and about which they scatter every bright and pretty object they can find, such as shells. Furthermore, they hang garlands of flowers in front of their play houses) and, wheu these are faded, they pro. cure fresh ones. It is even said that they plant seeds, which sprout and add to the decorativo effect. - Not less remarkable than che bower birds are the butcher birds—-a small shrike that is widely distributed in this country. These birds capture small animals of various sorts and de liberately impale them upon thorns, presumably for subsequent use as food. In parts of the west where there are barbed-wire fences they use the wire points instead of thorns for impaling their victims upon. This group shows a pair of butcher birds iu a bush, with grasshoppers, mice aud a little bird stuck ou thorns here and there. One of the most interesting groups exhibits a pair of woodpeckers of an interesting species. They are engaged in inserting acorns into holes in a tree trunk. In summer, when food is plentiful, these birds devote their time to making a great number of holes in the bark of trees. "When the acorns fall in the autumn they gather them and put ono into each of the holes they have made. Thus they provide themselves with a supply of provender for the winter. Otherwise, when snow covers tho ground, they would be likely to starve. Other groups show a number of prairie chickens engaged iu their love- makiug dance, flamingoes with their curious nests of mud, a hollow slump with parroquets hanging inside by their bills, which is their manner of roosting, aud wild pigeous, which arc interesting because they are threat ened with extinction. One group that was prepared for Chicago will not be 6ent there because it is too horrible. It represents the sheep-eating parrot of New Zealand attacking a sheep. This bird was not originally carniverous, but is supposed to liavo acquired a taste for muttou during a very cold winter, when, for lack of other food, it assailed the cur- casses of killed sheep. Subsequently it took to proyiug upon the live ani mal*, clinging to their wool and actu ally eating its way through the flosh to the kidneys, of the tat surrounding which it is especially fond. The poor sheop, unable to defend itsolf against its winged foe or to escape, eventually succumbs. Fortunately, this parrot has been nearly exterminated iu New Zonland by the sheep farmers.— [Washington Star. Baby Ruth’s Silver Spoou. Mrs. Mary O. Arnold of Norwich, N. Y., received a letter from Grover Cleveland a few days ago, iu which he wrote that Ruth was very proud of tho silvor spoon that Mrs. Arnold lias sent her. That spoon lias a history. Grover’s great-grandfather, the Rev. Aaron Cleveland, dwelt in Norwich Town. His son. Deacon Cleveland, was a silversmith at curious, ancient and tranquil Bean llill. a mile north of tho old town. The square, brown, two-story house in which lie lived is still stauding under tall elm*, whose branches sweep its roofs, at tho south ern edge of the village. Across the street is a funny-looking little house, with peeked gables. “Adams’ Tav- orfi»'! motived after an Euell.li try alehouse. It was lu this demure aud snug and liny building that Dea con Cleveland, in the last century and early part of this had ids silversmith shop, and wrought, in silver and gold, trinkets for the people of Bean Hill, Norwich Town and other neighbor hoods, aud handsomo spoons of odd and original designs. It was in the silversmith’s shop that Deacon Cleveland, a hundred years ago, fabricated tho solid silver spoon that Mrs. Arnold presented to littlo Ruth Cleveland. “It belonged to a sec of six,” said Mrs. Arnold, who is an elderly -lady, “that the Deacon had made to order for my mother, Mrs. Mary Jones. These spoons havo been in our family ever since, though ouc after atioilior w'as lost until now, I think only three are left; two belong to me and the third one to Miss Ruth. I inherited them at the time of my mother’s doajli, It is barely possible that some other member of our family may have one or more spoons of that set.” Tho spoons are about six inches long, with a shallow, pointed bowl, and on the back ef the handle the name ‘‘Cleveland” is embossed in bold, handsome letters. Impelled by a sud den caprice, about a week ago, Mrs. Arnold put her present in a box aud dispatched it to Ruth with a letter, in which she said: “Please give my love to Baby Ruth.” Southern Forests Disappearing. Charles Holm, of the United States Forestiy Bureau, writes in the En gineering Magazine: “The facts dis closed by the investigation of our Southern pi no forests, and the man agement of their timber resources, cannot but lead to the conviction that wc have already entered upon an era involving their complete extinction. Stupendous as these resources appear, as illustrated by figures quoted iu this paper, any doubt about their depletion within a comparatively brief period will be removed if, on the other hand, those figures are considered which relate to the ever-increasing draft on (lie forests. No one is more aware of the inevitable result of the presen 1 treatment of these forests than those actively engaged in reaping the har vest of timber, to mature which nature required centuries of time. There is no need (o dwell here on the calamities which would follow tho extinction of the industrial and commercial interests connected with the forosts, upon which so many thousands of people are dependent for their existence, or to contemplate the evil consequences of the destruc tion of the high forest, over large areas, in affecting existing conditions of climate aud soil. These themes have become truisms, which iu our day can escape no one taking an active interest in affairs aft’ecting our mate rial welfare. S,ill, with all the light afforded by science aud the teachings of national economy, there exists a popular disregard to matters pertain ing to fotestry, and Jittie headway has been made in the attempt, through state action or otherwise, to secure to posterity some of tho advantages of tho forest wealtli now enjoyed in this country and considered so iudespousa- ble to our prosperity." Signalling Through Water. The intellectual resources of Wiz ard Edison show no signs of exhaus tion. His latest movo is for a new and rather startling system of sub marine signalling. He believes that the difficulties iu tho way of such a system are quite surmountable. The principle on which the proposed in vention rests is the fact that water is one of iho best media for the trans mission of vibrations—that is tho con veyance of sound. Vessels are to have a vibratory machine under water, which will at once register the signal sound* from any vessel which may be iu the vicinity. The appara tus will be capable of detecting the presence of a ship provided with sig nals at a distance of from ten to fifteen miles. It is believed that such an in vention would reduce tho dangor of collison at sea to a minimum, and with the removal of this last danger, voyages would be as safe as human in genuity could make them. — [New Yoik Witucss. New l T se For a Linen Cuff. “Look here,” said a well-known man-about-town yestorday, “this is a letter from a frieud who is now iu Pittsburg.” The speaker produced a soiled cuff on which a message had bcou written. The cuff bore the stamp of Pittsburg postofficc, as well as a caucollcd stamp. The mossage road: “I haven’t no paper at hand, but Facie Sam will transmit this cuff, for which 1 have no further use. l.inen is of no use to a man who is dead ffat busied. Soud me itOO.—rphilailel- phia Record. FOR THE HOUSEWIFE. HOW TO PRESS A SLEEVE SEAM, Here is a usoful bint which some body is going to thank me for, I am certain. If you have a dress or coat sleeve which refuses to be pressod in any thing- like decent fashion, no mat ter how much you raanenvor, try running through it a broom handle. Rost the scam on it, and now you are ready for the iron. Could anything be simpler or more useful?—[St. Lou is Republic. WHEN frying. In frying it must be remembered Mi at tho bath of oil or drippings should be sufficient in quantity to sub merge tho articles to be fried, and hot enough to coagulate every part of their surface iu an instant. However, the temperature of the bath may vary according to the kind of feed that is to be cooked. For instance croquettes and oysters require but a minute or two —doughnuts eight or ten minutes,and raw potato balls some minutes longer. Pure olive oil is the finest frying medium known to the cook, but it is too expensive for the average house keeper. The next best medium is beef drippings, well clarified, which is far superior to lard. But of all materials for frying purposes “cook ing butter” (which usually means low grade, rancid butter) is the worst. Why “cooking butter” should find a place outside of the soap fat crock is one of the things we cannot under stand.— [Now York World. FRESHENING UP THE DINING ROOM. Any woman who wants to work a change in her dining room cau do it at a very small expenditure of money, if she only has time for a little needle work. A friend of mine at a trifling ex pense has made and embroidered for her dining room, which is papered io old blue, some very pretty portieres and a tabic cover, of the common blue denim, or “overall” cloth. She bought thG double-width material,and at top and bottom of the porteree embroidered in chain stitch with white linen floss, a simple conventional de sign of leaves and scroll work. She then lined the portieres with the plain material. I copy the patterns, which, of course, is to be enlarged. Heavier and showier patterns can be found in the art magazines that make a special, ty of decorative needle work. This, however, is singularly rich and re fined when embroidered. Ou the large, squaro cover for her dining table she repeated the same pattern, as a border, lining the whole cover with white canton flannel, and trimming it with a heavy, white linen fringe. Tho chain stitch is very easy, swift, bold and effective; the veining of the leaves is done in outline or Kensington stitch. With the old Delft ware ou her sideboard, these blue aud white fur nishings harmonize most delightfully. Besides the inexpensiveness and dura bility of tho “overall” portieres and table covers, they have the further ad vantage, this practical housekeeper assures me,of being laundered without the least injury. — [Atlanta Constitu. tion. RECIPES. Fried Egg Plant—Paro and cut in slices half an inch thick; spriukle with salt; cover and let stand for an hour. Rinse iu clear, cold water, wipo each slice dry; dip first in beaten egg, then iu rolled cracker or bread crumbs, Season with pepper aud salt, aud fry browu in butter. Ginger Suaps—One egg, one cup of molasses, one cup of sugar, one cup of butter and lard mixed, ouc-half cup of boiling water, one level table spoonful of soda dissolved iu the water, one tablespoonful of ginger, flour enough to mold out rather soft. Roll out thin and bake in a quick oven. Sliced Sweet Polato Pie—Line a deep pan with pastry, then half All it with layers of sliced boiled potato, butter and sugar, with a sprinkling of flour, using twice as much sugar a> butter. Mix together equal quantities of brandy aud water and pour in enough to cover the layers. Flavor with nutmeg or any spices preferred. Cover with crust and bake. Baked Apple Dumpling—Make a uice pastry, break oft’small pieces and roll thin, cut the size of a breakfast saucer. Into each piece put a tea- spoonful of sugar and an apple chopped tine. Draw 'the edges of crust together, so as to form iuto balls*. Thou put them into a pan, cover with hot water aud bake. Add more water if the first dries out, to form a sauce. The first society of civil engineers was formed in London, 1793. -- - - -- 1 -ft Oeeaa. I’ve often looked upon thy foaming waves Ami listened to tby voice, Old Ocean, And beard with keen delight thy billowy lave The rock-girt shore in wild commotion, i To me there ia a music sweeter far, Tn the dull aplsebings of thy waters, Than that evoked from viol or gnttar By any of our radiant daughters. And I have thought bow powerless was man, And laughed whene'er he sought to pinion Thy mighty arms, for since the world be gan Thou hast been master, he the minion. At times I've seen him launch upon thy breast, , And birdlike skim the crested billow, But ere the Eastern sun illumined the West He slept upon a nameless pillow. Of his once proud bark but a single mast Remained to chronicle his story; Millions shall tread in the wny of the last Before thy dripping locks are hoary. All else may proud man iu his onward sweep Overcome, be it sooner or later ; But thou art tameless, awake or aaleep; He may be great, but thou art greatar. —(St. George Best. HUMOROUS. i An acquired taste—A kite. If yon must bo dogmatic, try not lo be bull-dogmatic. “My time is not my own,” said the pickpocket, as be donned the stolen watch. Every boy has an idea that if bis father had lived at the right time he would have thrashed Goliath. Cholly’e Gallantry.—Little Willie— My sister says you’re awful soft. Cholly—That’s bacausa I’m utterly mashed, Willie. It is wonderful bow well the world gels on, considering how many peo ple there are who do nothing toward helping it along. “Have you over had fever and ague in these flats? Landlord—Yes, air-res; There isn’t a modern improvement von can mention but we have. A hungry tramp, to got a bits And raise a balf-a-doilar, Collared the bone of a little dog And boned the poor dog's collar. “There!” exclaimed the fair syndi cates^ “I think this article will fill a long-felt wanL” “What is the title, dear?” “IIow to Manage a Son-in- law.” “Do you think, Schmidt, that yonr affection for Fraulen Goldstein is re ciprocated?” “I really can’t say; I am loving her at the present time on credit.” “I try to love my neighbor,” said Mr. Meekins, as be gazed disconsolate ly out iuto the rain, “but it’s a hard thing for a man who pays cash for his umbrellas to do.” “Your tickets were complimentary, were they not?” “Well,” replied the man who had seen a painfully ama teur entertainment, “1 thought they were until I saw the ahow.” “Your friend, Mr. Barlow, ian’t a very civil man. He was positively rude to me last night,” said Maude. “That’s Henry’s great fault,” said Ethel. “Ho has very little respect for ago.” Daisy—When I get big, like yon, mamma, I am going to marry a doc tor or a minister. Mamma—Why, my dear? Daisy—'Cause if I marry a doctor 1 can get well for nothing, and if I marry a minister l cau be good for nothing. Senator Morgan’s First Case. Senator Morgan of Alabama at tributes his success in lifo to an acci dent. Wheu he started out in hia native town to practice law he could not get a case, and was on the verga of starvation. He decided to go to Texas and grow up with the eountry, packed his trunk, locked his ofliee door and stepped into tho street, where he found himself face to face with a countryman, who was looking at the signs. “Say, stranger,” tho farmer asked, “kin you tell me if thar’s a feller ’bout yeres named Morgan, John Morgan ?” “That is my name, sir,” Mr. Mor- gau replied, pausing iu his flight. “Air you in er hurry, young man?” “I’m just off to Texas.” “Texas, eh? Can't Texaa wait a day or two? I’ve got er ease I want looked after au’ 1 kinder thought you’d do the job.” The prospect of. having a ease at last was tufliciout to cause the young lawyer to tarn back and hear what the farmer had lo say. it had some thing to do with the recovery of a piece of land. “X took it up and won it,” said the Senator, io recounting the iucident, “and from that day to this havo nevsr known what it was to want a dollar.” The Baris sewers are the largest aud most,couplet? iu the world.

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The Fayetteville news. (Fayetteville, Ga.) 18??-????, April 21, 1893, Image 1