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1994.
THE AR6OS.
к. j. iiAK.no> & j. u< McDonald,
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yL , ...'3\ '' dear word,
U | C h ristraas,
1 1 ■ marshals
1j ml /// 1 le £ ions of P re ‘
‘'i\ W /// Jl cious memories
\D j j ou t from the
past and crowns the future with a nalo
of golden, cheery promises. Out from
the shadows come the festive times
when Santa Claus was a verity, with
his fat paunch and great, rosy cheeks;
when, on awaking, stockings filled to
bursting greeted the eye, and at even
tide the flashing Christmas tree fairly
laughed its satisfaction at the joyous
gladness it was diffusing all around.
Day of the children! An infantine
lar.gli is the divinest of songs in the
ear of the Christ, who was once a help
less babe, His only shelter a mother’s
loving breast. The Man-Christ took little
ones in 11 is arms and blessed them, de
claring that all must be as they in
trust and innocence, if they would be
heirs to His everlasting kingdom.
Day of home-bringing and home
gathering, when the loved ones meet
аа. unselfishly live in the pleasure
each cf the other. Tender affection
banishes self and man lives in touch
with his fellow, glorified of the divine
benediction of love. He is nearest to
divinity who gets farthest from self,
and the gifts of Christmas-tide are so
many pledges of disinterested esteem
for the recipients. A time is this when
care rolls away like a scroll in the fire,
and mirth and good will become the
all-pervading genii of the household.
Love and joj r cross the threshold and
kiss one another, as they pronounce a
blessing upon all beneath the roof.
Peace covers the dear ones as a man
tle, gladness so abovjTjds that it, js
the day of all days throughout the
metes end bounds of Christendom.
Christmas of sleigh-bells and crystal
snow. Christmas of warmth and flow
ers, for the Christ-day girdles the
earth and embraces all climates and
all nations, and everywhere, thank
God! it is a day of festive joy and hap
piness—a fitting commemoration of the
fulfillment of the promise made by the
herald of God in the glowing words:
“I bring you glad tidings of great joy,
which shall be unto all people.”
It is peculiarly the Christ day, a time
when the beauty of Hisself-abnegating
life is reflected in sublime majesty.
Never a selfish shadow obscured His
path; His the grandest of all epitaphs;
He lived and He died that others might
live forever. A man without a home,'
He has gladdened and brightened mil
lions of homes. He w r as a man of sor
rows, acquainted with grief, yet from
Hlb presence an ocean of consolation
has spread out and covered the earth
with its waters of healing. His last
prayer was an intercession for His ene
mies, and His last sigh a breath of con
fidence in God.
The glory song of the herald angels,
sung at the first Christmas, that paean
of praise to God and pledge of peace to
man, shall never die. The grandest of
all carols, dearest of all angel hj’mns,
time has destroyed none of its sweet
ness and has preserved all of its prom
ise. Peace and amity dwell where the
spirit of Jesus prevails, and each Christ
day is a benison indeed to those who
see His face through the clouds and the
mists of mortality.
Christmas, the home day, the Christ
day! May its lessons and its blessings
gladden all hearts and make a truth of
the common salutation: “A Merry
Christmas be upon you.”
William Rosser Cobbe.
THE FAD OF THE HOUK.
The man in the moon hangs up his
stocking.—Golden Days.
An Even Exchange.
Mrs. Bride—l suppose you and Fred
will give each other handsome holiday
presents?
Miss Fiance—Yes; w T e have promised
to surrender our liberties to each other
risrht away.—Raymond’s Monthly.
HIS CHRISTMAS GREETING.
BY ELISA AUMSTROXO.
The cemetery gates closed with a
clang behind one man ns he stepped
out into the snow-covered road; it was
almost dark and he nearly ran into the
other man who stumbled along as if
very weary.
"Yonder’s th’ shortest way into town,
isn t it?" the latter asked.
"Yep. Most folks want to know th’
shortest way out,” he grinned.
‘T’m glad enough to get out o’ where
I was,” muttered the other. As he
lighted his pipe the flame showed his
pale face.
The other man edged away. “Ye
ain’t been in jail?”
“Worse. Penitentiary. Ye needn’t
be askeered, though—l've had enough.
Didn't do it, either, but, ye see. I was
kind o’ good for nothin’, an' the judge
was running for reelection, so I went
up. Got out for Christmas, though, on
account o' good behavior.”
“Um, well, so ’tis Christmas time—
folks oughtn't to be hard on nobody
now. ”
“No. I most took ye fer a Christmas
ghost a bit ago.”
"Been working late. I'm a stone ma
son, and I'd promised a rich old party
. IpSoTm?.
HI ■ ' ■}'
Jim. s&*&j**
“MARY LYONS WAS THE NAME.”
to have a stone put over a child’s grave
by to-morrow, sure. He said he’d like
her to have something fer a Christmas
gift.”
“Poor soul! I’m better off ef he *s
rich. I’ll see mv kid to-night. My
Iff in 11 in Fin mu 1
gUiymiji 111,11111 m ifi-m 1
RESIDENCE OF Dr. J. LEE BYRON, THIRD STREET.
brother's been taking 1 keer of her since
I was took. I’ll take her now, an’ I’m
bound to keep straight, for her sake,
from now on. That man got any more
kids?”
“None. This was only adopted; be
longed to some poor relation, but he
loved her like his own. Died sudden
about ten days ago—he took it hard,
too; said he was forty-nine and she
only about ten, so he'd expected she'd
choose his headstone.”
“Poor soul! My girl's most ten
now.”
“Lemme see,” he lit a match and
consulted a paper as they walked
along, “she was nine years, eleven
months and three days old. It was a
pretty stone; the boss says: ‘Noth
ing’s too good for Mary,’ says he.”
“Mary! Why, that’s my girl’s name
—here, lemme see that!” The match
went out and his fingers trembled so
that he could not light another.
“Mary Lyons was the name,” said
the stone mason, gently.
“Merciful God, my own child!" cried
the ex-convict.
Then, through the still night air, the
glad church bells rang out.
He Was Surprised.
Mrs. Gazzam —I've got a box of cigars
for my husband’s Christmas present,
which will surprise him.
Mrs. Maddox —Women don't know
how to buy cigars for men.
Mrs. Gazzam —I know that, so I got
brother Jack to get them for me. —
J udge.
Bells and Bills.
Mrs. Newlywed—How I love to bear
the merry Christmas bells.
Mr. Newlywed —I’d like to hear them,
too, if Christmas bells were not so con
foundedly suggestive of Christmas
bills.
An Absorbing: Girl.
“There is no such person as Santa
Claus, is there?” asked a small girl of
her mother.
“Some folks say there is not,” was
the reply.
“Well, I don't care. I don't like folks
who say there isn't any Santa Claus.
They never give any nice presents.” —
N. Y. Journal.
♦OHRISTMAS EBITION.*
FADLEY’S CHRISTMAS GIFTS.
BY FRANK U. WELCH.
Young Mr. Fadley was in a worry.
He had some Christmas presents to
buy, and what to get was what wor
ried him. First and foremost, there
was Miss Damon, upon whom he was
anxious to create an impression—she
must have something appropriate and
elegant, whether anybody else got
anything or not. Then there was his
bosom friend and constant companion
Harvey, a good fellow who had placed
him under obligation times without
number —him he could not forget.
This being the case, Fadley started out
to rummage the stores.
lie overhauled all the leading shops
in town, and by Christinas Eve had col
lected what he thought was a pretty
sensible lot of presents for an amateur
Santa Claus to get together. For the
lady of his choice he had a handsome
toilet outfit of combs, brushes, powder
puffs and boxes, manicure implements,
hand mirrors, and no end of other ele
gant articles for feminine use. These
xvere all inclosed in an elaborately be
plushed and inlaid case which was
neatly wrapped and all ready to be
sent to the intended recipient. For
his friend Harvey he had an elegant
“JUST AS IF 1 WERE IN NEED OF A
SHAVE.”
shaving set, consisting of razors,
brushes, cups, hones, etc., done up in a
substantial case which was also ready
to be dispatched to the home of his
fr i ers (1
Not daring to trust a messenger with
the presents for fear of some mistake
Fadley started out himself to deliver
them. First he called at Harvey’s
house, timing his call so as not to catch
his friend at home. With his friend’s
mother he intrusted the package, she
promising that it should not be tam
pered with until Harvey should open
it himself the next morning. Then he
called at the abode of Miss Damon.
The ring was answered by a servant,
who said the young lady was out doing
her Christmas shopping. Here was a.
piece of good luck. Leaving the pack
age with explicit instructions as to its
delivery Fadley said he would call,
Christmas night, as per previous ar
rangement with the young lady.
There was a big job off his hands,
and Fadley mentalby patted himself on
the back at having done it up so neatly.
He pictured to himself the glad sur
prise of Miss Damon when she should
receive the substantial evidence of his
regard, and chuckled over the little
surprise in store for his dear friend
and chum, Harvey. Early Christmas
morning Miss Damon received her
package, upon opening which she ex
claimed:
“Well, I never! Just as if I were in
need of a shave. Who ever has been
so kind as to furnish me with this ton
sorial outfit?” Then her eye caught
the corner of a card sticking out of one
of the compartments of the case. This
she drew forth and read:
“From yours faithfully,
H. Ira Fadley.”
“Oh!” said the mischievous young
lady; “Mr. Fadley, eh? Well, just
wait till he comes this evening. I'll
bawl ‘Next’ at him; see if I don’t.”
Of all the mortified swains that ever
got into a pickle Fadley felt the worst
when the idol of his heart flashed the
shaving tools on him. He was utterly
speechless, until it occurred to him
that his friend Harvey had his dear
one's toilet set and one of the sweetest
of little notes that ever a lovesick fel
low put together.
Insult to Injurj-.
Thistlewood —Did he say anj-thing to
you when he handed you the bill?
Impecune —Yes; wished me a happy
New Year.
mRESHOUft
THV&r&
Another little drop has sunk into the
great ocean of infinity. Another
trembling ray from man’s life-sun has
been sent upon its mission through
measureless space. Another round has
been fashioned in the ladder of destiny
—and before us is the new year. All
the mighty centuries, with their ag
gregate creation of form from chaos,
have been built from these molecules
of time. As the coral in the depths of
the sea becomes the basic fragment of
a continent only when it lias yielded
up the body in which it was sensate
organism, so our yeais. precious to us,
thrilling with the emotions that mark
existence, become fragments of the
world's history only when we lose our
grasp of them and they are gone. They
become imperishable only when to us
they have dropped petal by petal their
days, and their color and fragrance
have departed.
Time is the most profound of all
mysteries, the most unfathomable of
all secrets. Intangible yet potent,
coming whence who can tell, going
whither who knows? Each year is an
epitome of all that has come and gone,
since the first indestructible atom of
matter displaced the darkness of pri
mordial emptiness, and wandering on
the wings of ether found an orbit, and
became the nucleus of a universe. With
in the bosom of the years lies the
story of man from the cradle to the
grave, the unwritten history of unborn
nations; the rise and fall of empires,
systems and creeds; the riddle which
can never be read by mortal eyes. We
look at the past and strive to grasp its
meaning, to garner up a few sheaves of
wisdom. We turn our eyes to the fu
ture, enraptured at the mirage of wav
ing fields of untrodden effort, ready for
the sickle of the mind, and looking
backward and forward the precious
present slips away and to-morrow be
comes yesterday.
Anew year! Heir of all the wealth
of the old years, pulsing with possibil
ity, great with promise. It is well that
we bow the knee and lift the heart,
as the old passeth, and the new cometh
out of the door of the storehouse of
futui’e centuries, surrounded by its
cycle of days, each bearing aloft its un
lit torch awaiting the signal of the
bridegroom.
Nations, like the planet upon which
they live, have their era of subsidence
and j emergence, their tidal waves
and earthquakes, their glacial epochs
and their periods of teeming fertility
of though achievement us well as
of glory and prosperity. Now and
again they are shaken to their center
and old forms give way to newer and
better. Thus is the miracle of creation
made recurrent. Looking upon the
life-chart of nations, as it lies spread
out before us in history, we see here
and there an illumined mountain
peak, a Mohammed, Christ, Luther or
Cromwell, and here and there a burned
out crater of passion, a Waterloo, a
Flodden Field, a Gettysburg. Moun
tain-peak and crater are a part of the
great scheme of humanity, abiding
places for the eternal sunlight guiding
men to loftier heights of patriotism
and purity, or warnings of the smol
dering fires which keep the earth
throbbing with heat and vitality,
when prisoned, but unchained involve
it in ruin.
i The year that has gone has been one
• of regret and disappointment to us as a
! people. Like the prophet of old we
j have looked to the heavens for a sign
i and found it not, and bowing our
! hearts we have waited with what pa
• tience we might for Time, the healer,
to cause us to forget our wounds. All
that was in the old year, but the dawn
of anew future shines upon us. As we
gaze upon its first roseate ray we pic
ture to ourselves the gratification of
hope deferred. We hear in the tones
of the bell, still quivering with the
dirge of the past, anew strain. It
[ breathes of hope, tells of strife soothed
to peace, hatred quenched in forgive
ness. We follow the ray and it leads
us to the embers on the hearthstone of
the old year. Looking closer, we find
it was kindled there. Amid the ashes
of shame and violence, fires of patriot l
ism and brotherly love still burned.
Dark indeed will be the old year that
sees them quenched in our land; darker
still the new year that gives no promise
of liberty under law and no respect for
the ideals of the Dast,
Another year, would we linger in the
portals of the past, where we have
been garlanded with love and joy or
where age has crowned us with frui
tion? Behind us the crowding centu
ries push like a great army hurrying
in hot haste to the victory. Onward
they press, sweeping all before them.,
Alas! we may not pause. Reluctant or
willing, we are hurried forward toward
those battlements, which, seen dimly
against the horizon, may be mist
shrouded and so near at hand that the
next step will bring us to the grim
gates which open but once to every
mortal, and behind which there is a
mystery greater than that of Time.
Those trampling centuries, thundering
forward with a tread like the music of
the stars, “so loud it deafens mortal
ears,” are advancing to carry man to
the highest pinnacle of hope and
achievement. Woe b” to us if each day
we join not the host a.-, valiant soldiers,
ready to storm any fortress of wrong
and prejudice, willing to do battle ac
cording to the strength of our souls
and the justice of our cause.
If you are not a subscriber to the A il
eus, is there auv reason why you should
not be ?
—— BUY YOUR
Phaetons.
Surries, DllDJjfA Harness,&c
y
L —- OF
1.1, CARMICHAEL.
Largest Stock of the Latest Styles ever carried
in Jackson to select from.
Ball Bearing and Rubber Tire Buggies See them!
Try them! Runs light and Rides easy. The Novelties
of the season are to be found at JACKSON CARRIAGE
FACTORY.
I
Winter Lap Robes ! The largest stock, Best
Qualities, and latest styles to select from. Head
quarters for Buggy Robes.
REPAIR WORK A SPECIALTY!
Quickly and Substantially done at Reasonable Rates by
Competent Men. So biing your Repair Work to the
JACKSON CARRIAGE FACTORY. T
GUANO FOR 1895.
To those of my Customers and Friends who have so
liberally patronized me in the past, and who expect to
use Guano or Acids another season, I would kindly ask
them to call on me and get my prices, etc., before buying,
as I assure you I will use my utmost endeavers to please
you. I will also be pleased to supply you with Cotton
£eed Meal. Respectfully
J. R. CARMICHAEL.
JACKSON INSTITUTE
i
JACKSON, * GEORGIA,
Spring Term Begins = - =.
: = Tuesday, Jan. Ist, ’95.
ARh just closing the most Successful term *in
the history of the* School. The growth of the
School lias been phenomenal. Within three years the
number of teachers has been doubled.
Advantages isa. MTJSIC and AET TJaes
o#lle& by -any School.
Dr. A. J. Battle, President of Shorter Female College,
Rome, recognizing the higo character and efficient work
of the School, has offered a Scholarship to the graduate of
Jackson Institute making the highest mark for the } ear.
Prof. 0. C. Cox, Pr si dent Southern Female College,
La Grange, says: H consider Jacksonlnstitute one of
the tlnee best schools in the state.”
For Catalogue or other Information, address
J as. C. BIASINCAMB.
1895.