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l.uara Rice’s Sweetest Letter
“Hot Springs, Ark., July 24.—Dear
Uncle Jim: It has been a long time
since I wrote to you, and I have seen
a good many strange things, have
been to a number of places, but I
haven’t seen any country I loved more
than my old home in Georgia. It is
the dearest spot on earth to me. I
was at the depot at Connersville a
week ago, and a long train of freight
cars, which the railroad man told me
was the melon train from Georgia,
ran by, and on some of the cars Cen
tral of Georgia, A. B. & A., and G.
& F., was painted. I knew that the
Georgia & Florida was the railroad
that runs from Douglas to Augusta,
and my mind went away down in
Georgia to my dear Uncle Jim, and
his sweet string of boy and girl
chums. I love them, every one. I
remember some of their names, as I
read them in the Note Book, and some
of them have written me pretty let
ters of love and kindness. When
those freight cars passed from my
sight as I sat on the platform it seem
ed like a long row of my friends were
leaving me and going back to Geor
gia where I want to go so bad. I want
to see Willie, my little brother, and
Hattie, my sweet, brave sister, and
then 1 think of my little home on the
river, in Augusta. I wonder if I will
ever see them again ? Some time,
when I am out on the piazza alone,
and the beautiful moon swings across
the southern skies, and the twinkling
stars peep out from the great dome
of heaven, everything is still and quiet
I imagine 1 have gone back to Geor
gia to Augusta. Everything seems
glad to see me, everybody smiles as
I hop along on my crutches, I am on
the right street, I see the old home,
the gate clicks behind me, two faces
are at the door with their hands over
their eyes to shield them from the
strong electric light on the the cor
ner, and the two strong arms crush
me to Hattie’s bosom, while Willie
(he’s tied tongued) says, “’Ank Dod,
my ’ittle ister is ’ome!” I konw that
is what he would say. The door to
the room on the right is closed, but I
must look in for that’s mother’s room.
The bed is in the same corner where
it was when she was sick, a white
counterpane makes it look cool, with
little fluffy pillows, that her precious ,
hands used to make feel so soft to my
tired head. The hide-bottom chair
sits by the window and the little stool
is near where I used to sit with my
head on her lap as she read from that
precious Bible about Joseph and Mary
and Christ and His apostles, and how
cruelly they were treated, and then
‘*6sus was pu£ to death on the cross.
It was so pathetic, so full of love and
devotion, that the tears' came unbid
den from my eyes and heart, when
she would put her soft, white hands
on my bowed head, and gently said:
‘Dear Laura, He suffered and died for
you.’ Dear, dear Jesus, how sorry I
am, but no drop of your precious
blood was shed in vain for me. * * *
Dr. Messengale, who is with us, is an
old confederate veteran, and as there
was to be a reunion of Federal and
Confederate Veterans out on the old
‘Drill Ground,’ forty miles east of this
place, about two weeks ago, he re
quested Mrs. Whitfield, the matron,
and myself, to go with him in his car,
a very large touring car. After two
hours’ run we arrived just as the vet
erans were forming two lines of
march to stop before the grand stand.
An old confederate flag with bullet
holes in it flapped from a pole on an
old soldier’s shoulder, and coming a
cross from the other side came an old
soldier with one arm, dressed in blue,
carrying the stars and stripes. The
two old veterans met, halted, looked
at each other, shook hands and stood
the two flags to gether. Then their
arms went around each other, and
when they stepped back you could
see a handkerchief go up to each old
wrinkled face as they dashed aside the
tears. The two lines of old soldiers
marched up around our car, when Dr.
Messengale, standing in the car, made
a speech for the blue and gray, and
when he closed he told them that “he
had a little cripple girl from Georgia
in the car, that was a great singer,
and would sing for them if they de
sired her to do so. Up went their
hats, and after they came closer a
round us, and as the good doctor held
me on a seat I sang my mother’s fav
orite song, ‘Jesus Lover of My Soul.’
There were many wet eyes then. They
asked me to sing again, and Mrs. Fitz
gerald offered to help me with her
sweet strong alto, the doctor with his
heavy tenor, I sang, ‘ln the Sweet By
and By.’ You would have been glad
to have heard those old soldiers join
in the chorus. * * * Uncle Jim,
I do not think it would be well for me
to talk to a man about my leg, but
as you are just Uncle Jim, I do not
think it would be wrong to tell you
that I have a new leg, and its cork,
and every time I step it squeaks so
bad and everybody looks down at my
feet. It makes me so ashamed, and
I just wish they’d let me alone. * * *
I cannot say how much I thank those
boys and girls and kind ladies and
gentlemen for their nice words pub
lished in the Note Book about me.
When I come to Douglas I am going
to see that kind doctor Wilcox at Wil
lacoochee who so generously offered
to let me make my home with him and
his when I come, and I am coming
if God lets me live. I am so sorry
he is afflicted, can’t hear well, as you
told me in your letter, but I am going
to make him hear me when I come,
for I am going to sing for him and
his wife, and I am praying for them
day and night. * * * I have been
writing this letter three or four days,
just scratched along with my left
hand, can’t use the fingers on my
right hand at all, as they are all drawn
up. But my head and heart are all
right, Uncle Jim. I have Jesus in
my heart and He won’t let it be af
flicted, and I try to keep evil thoughts
and complaints out of my head. * * *
Dr. Massengale and Mrs. Whitfield
are going to carry me to the Panama
Exposition, Uncle Jim, and I don’t
know when I’ll ever write again, but
I want you and all your readers to
know that I love them and never for
get them. If I never write again,
Uncle Jim, you will know that the lit
tle tired girl has gone to mamma and
Jesus. Good bye, God bless you.
“LAURA RICE.”
, This should be a big day in Doug
las.
Haven’t much use for a hypocrite,
have you ?
August has five Sundays, but only
four pay days.
A farmer down at Saginaw has
named his favorite male hog “Slaton.”
I Poor hoggie!
You never knew a boy that loved his
mother and sisters to curse in the
presence of ladies.
Everybody will be glad to see the
Normal College and Business Insti
tute open on the 7th.
Cactus has given Uncle Jim the
mitten. Guess she wants No. 12 tak
en off the book Wonder why?
Irene McLelland says grapes are
getting ripe at her home by the buck
et full. Believe it when I see ’em.
The Note Book does not enter con
troversies of any kind, and does not
permit others to do so in its columns.
Nearly everybody wants a fair, and
nearly everybody wants a dead-head
pass, and then, who is to pay the ex
pense ?
Mattie Hesters, from Alma, drop
ped in to see me last Saturday. She
knows the way now, and I hope to
see her often.
I think the county campaign for
1916 is shaping up, ajid Dan Wall is
going to be in it. He offered me a
cigar last week.
G. J. Wooten, up at Wray, says he
thinks he will be at Wooten’s School
House on the first Sunday in Septem
ber, at the big sing.
I am sorry I couldn’t go out to Ar
nie to hear George Kight’s singing
class close up last Friday. The 13th
is always an unlucky number.
Of course all the school children
will come to the fair, but those over
forty-five will be expected to pay j
Some of them didn’t last time.
Lizzie Meeks, down at Nicholls, says
for me to come and see her and
Prince. lam going to see Lizzie and,
of course, will see her pet dog.
There are a thousand persons in
Coffee county, when you meet them
and say, “"how are you,” will reply
“no good.” The answer is correct.
J. A. Davis, of Nicholls, was in
town last Sautrday, looking fat and
hearty as a buck, and had on a new
suit of clothes. Must made a big
'find. ■ -
j Fannie Cromer, down at Mclntosh,
Fla., wants to know if I have forgot
ten her. Silly girl, and her name is
on one of the top lines in the Red
Book.
My little chum down at Sessoms
writes this week to know if I have
taken her name off the list, I had,
i
THE DOUGLAS ENTERPRISE, DOUGLAS, GA., AUGUST 21ST-, 1915-
for I thought she had quit me, but it
is on again, now.
Everything and everybody that calls
me “Uncle Jim” are not my “chums.”
Many of them I do not know by name,
but 1 never fail to speak to anyone
that hails me.
Ethel Kirkland, of Saginaw, says
if I will come down there she will
give me a “chaw of home-made to
bacco.” I got enough to last me a
lifetime in the sixties.
All-day sing at Moore’s Mill church
and dinner on the ground, on the Ist.
Sunday in September. The public
invited and a good time assured. All
trains on Coast Line stop there.
W. M. Smith, up on No. 4, came in
last Saturday and brought me a big
mess of Cracker Yams for Sunday din
ner. The Lord will provide, and
Smith had plenty of new potatoes.
When you see these “* * *” in
Laura’s letter, it means that I could
not read the writing, and some of the
little darling’s letter is left out. The
way she closes her letter leaves me
feeling very sad.
Homer Ricketson from Pearson, was
in town Thursday of last week. He
had a black eye, and I was just about
to ask him how the other fellow look
ed, when he told me a base ball skid
ded and struck him a good one.
A negro man, who was not very
definite in his explanation, brought me
a nice kershaw and pumpkin last Sat
urday and said Mrs. Sam Mack, or
Mrs. Sam McDonald, I could never
understand which, had sent them.
The best plan when you first come
to court is to pay your subscription.
If you wait until the last day when
you get your scrip, you’ll be in such a
hurry to get off home to see the folks,
that you’ll forget your subscription.
Widow; Cochrand, near Ambrose,
after eating supper on Friday night
of last week, without any previous
sickness, fell dead at her home. She
was an excellent lady, and her many
friends were startled by the untimely
occurance.
Mabel and Homer Corbitt came to
see me last Saturday just as soon as
they got here. Mabel forgotten to
tell her fellow where to meet her Su
day, and wanted a postal card for that
purpose. He lives out in the woods
somewhere.
Dan Vickers is getting anxious to
get out on the rounds and commence
collecting taxes. The war is on now,
and when he begins to hold up people
for their little bit if money I am afraid
they’ll mob him for highway robbery.
Go slow, Dan; go slow.
Mack Wooten was in town Satur
day and told me about the all-day sing
to be held at the Mack Wooten School
House, above Pridgen, on the first
Sunday in September. Sib Vickers,
Charlie Wall, George Kight, Uncle
Jim and his cornet are specially in
vited.
Misses Ruby Peterson, of West
Green, and Ruth Carelock, of Jay
Bird Springs, came in to see me “just
a moment” last week. Both claim to
have brought the other to my office.
Of course, I couldn’t decide anything
in which two girls are concerned. It’s
dangerous.
Mr. Jesse W. Wall, W. M. Haskins,
Masters Clarence Wall and Allen Has
kins, all of the Roberts church sec
tion, below Leliaton, were in town last
Tuesday, and came to see me. Allen
and Clarence have promised to be my
chums and write me the news. I hope
they will.
A certain black-eyed fellow living
out on No. 2, has a girl down near
Saginaw, and he thinks about her all
the time when he is awake, and the
other night he woke up about mid
night, near Chatterton, trying to crawl
over a wire fence, walking in his sleep
to see his girl.
Mr. George Cole, who lives about
one mile east of town, has put me un
der obligation to him for three cans
of his “this season’s canned goods,”
corn, tomatoes and peas. These speci
mens are conclusive evidence that the
canning industry can be made a profit
able success here.
Lawrence Passmore is doing well
at his singing school up near Pridgen.
Ben Wells is one of his pupils, but he
can’t get but one song in his head,
and that is, “Oh Mary, oh Mary, I
love you well; I love you more than
tongue can tell.” Poor felllow! Mary,
do smile on him just one time.
Bud Fussell and Johnnie Turvis
were in town last Monday. Bud says
he don’t know whether it will be safe
for me to ride in a boat with Rebecca
orn not. He is afraid Miriam would
get her little submarine ready and put
a torpedo in the bottom of that boat.
Oh, when will this cruel war be over?
Arch Vickers, of Ambrose, was in
town Monday. He has been reading
the Note Book, he says, but now is a
married man, has a pretty wife, and
to do the best thing he can to make
her happy and content is to have the
Note Book sent to her every week.
Now, that’s what I call a level-headed
man.
One of my chums down in Florida
writes a postal and says: “I go boat
riding every day, and the lake, a mile
wide, in a motor boat. I can manage
the engine, and we’ll have a fine time.”
I like you mighty well, little girl, but
I’m afraid of the German submarines
might puncture the bottom of the
boat, you know.
Richard Vickers, better known as.
Bud, Mary Ellen’s father, who lives
over in the Pearson district, came in
on Thursday of last week and brought
his first bale of cotton for the season.
It s time for Mary Ellen to come in
with half or bushel of potatoes, if she
can leave that squint-eyed fellow long
enough for this season.
It does not make much difference
with us who ate the apple, Eve oi
Adam, they disobeyed God, and were
punished for their indignity. You
and myself do just as bad, and our
punishment is just as sure if it were
not for our Redeemer. Poor Adam and
Eve had a temper, but no Redeemer
as we have to plead their cause, for
“they know not what they do.” Bless
ed Savior.
I was once a young child without
mother, father or guardian, but I al
ways loved and respected the names
of my mother and father, and God
has let me be an old man, still in all
my life’s experience I never knew a
boy or girl who called their parents
“old man and old woman,” talked
back at them, had no respect for
thtm, that ever did much in life. The
boys often make vagabounds and
drunkards, and the girls goes from
bad to worse. God help them! Re
member this, my child.
Church Directory
METHODIST CHURCH.
Rev. H. M. Morrison, Pastor.
Preaching services every Sunday at
11:00 A. M. and 7:30 P. M.
Sunday School every Sunday at
3:30 P. M., L. E. Heath Superinten
dent.
Epworth League Devotional, Sun
day evenings at 6:45, W. T. Cotting
ham, President.
Prayer Meeting Wednesday eve
nings at 7:30.
Choir Practice every Thursday eve
ning at 7:30, Miss Ethel Morrison,
Directress.
Strangers are most cordially invit
ed, and the public generally will re
ceive hearty welcome to all these
services.
FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH
T. S. Hubert, Pastor.
M. H. Turrentine, Clerk.
W. R. Wilson, Treasurer
W. C. Bryan, Bible School Super
intendent.
H. Kirkland, B. Y. P. U. President.
Preaching every Sunday. Bible
School meets at 4 P. M. B. Y. P. U.
meets at 7:00 P. M.
Welcome to all services.
PARKER MEMORIAL CAMP
MEETING AT WAYCROSS
The annual camp meeting at the
Parker Memorial Camp Ground, at
Waycross, will begin on the Ist of
September, and continue to the 12th.
Rev. C. F. Weigler, one of the great
est evangelists of the day, will con
duct the services. Mrs. J. W. Ad
ams, formerly Miss Annabelle Park
er, extends an invitation to the pub
lic, particularly to the people of Cof
fee county.
NOTICE
The people who have relatives and
friends, buried at Reedy Branch
church are notified that Tuesday be
fore the fifth Sunday, inst., is set a
side for the purpose of cleaning out
the cemetery at that place. Every
body invited to come.
TAX RETURNS READY
Receiver Sapp and Clerk Haddock
have been busy all this week getting
the Receiver’s Returns ready for turn
ing over to the State authorities, and
the same has been forwarded to the
[ Comptroller General at Atlanta.
RELIABLE GROCERS
That’s who you are dealing with
when you buy from us.
We keep and sell everything in our
line.
PHONE 52
J. C. RELIHAN & OMPANY
DOUGLAS, GA.
,Jhie C/nion SSankiny C"o.
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5150.000.00
Appreciates Your Account
Either Large or Small
A MAN NEEDED MONEY BADLY ONE DAY*
HIS WIFE ASKED HIM-HOW MUCH;
HE TOLD HER; SHE WROTE HIM A CHECK
FOR THE AMOUNT. SHE HAD PUT MONEY
IN THE BANK, AND SAVED HER HUSBAND
FROM BUSINESS FAILURE. *
A woman with a bank account makes a better com
panion; she gets interested in her husband's affairs; she
knows where money comes from and where it goes, and
she takes mighty good care that it goes as far as possible.
She can save you trouble and MONEY. Give HER a
bank account!
Make OUR bank YOUR bank.
We pay 5 per cent interest.
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