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the Biggest Bargain
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¥
Backet Store
Company,
Eastman, = Georgia.
physici 4iry
DR. J. R- ROSE,
Physician and Surgeon 1
EASTMAN, GA.
Specialty DlSLAaEa rK.c-couxiu Or i- uOJlJii.V ....
Office at Rose’s Drug Store.
f. J. BUCHAN ,
Piivsician 3 and Druqtiist,
Eastman, Coorgia.
CaltB promptly answered, day
or night. 1-31-1 vr.
J, 1). HERRMAJY , M 1)
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
) 8 to 11 a. m.
OFFICE HOURS r > 3 to 5 o. m.
Residence. Chaune^V Avenue
I)r. JOHN B. CLARK,
Physician and .Surgeon,
Eastman Ga
Office in drag store, next door to Mer
chants and Fanners Bank.
ATTORNEYS
J-XO. F. DKLACY. JAS. BISHOP, JK.
DeLACY & BISHOP,
ATTOSfUEYS - AT - LAW,
Eastman, Georgia.
Practice in the state and federal courts
J. E. WOOTEN.
ATTORNEY AT LAW
Eastman, Georgia.
£SF~Offieeat McArthur's Land
office.
w. M. CLEMENTS
Attorney at Law,
Eastman, Ga.
Rraetrce in State and Fedefal courts.
Offices in Citizens’ Bank Building.
h- M. ROBERTS. E. B MILNER.
ROBERTS & MILNER !
Attorneys at Law,
Eastman Georgia
Office in Merchants and Earme :s Bank.
W. W Ashburu. Pres. E. J. Peacock
M. H. Edwards, Vice Pres. W. X.Lietch.
Park Harper, Cashier. Jas C. Williams. !
Citizen's Banking (X,
Eastman, Ga,,
SOLICITS YOUR ACCOUNT.
Makes Fays interest on tune available deposits
collection on all
fioints. Gives prompt attenLon to
Collections. Remits for atlcollec
•ions on day of payment. Loans
ffioney on favorable terms. Gives
you the very best security, as each
for aiember is personally responsible
the debts of the Company.
May 15 -tf •
♦! I I I I I I I | | | | | | | | |
THE MONUMENT.
A l Handsome, Obstinate Men
—
_ Marr.es a Confiding Girl of Scv» —
_
enteen. Query: What Be¬
comes of the Girl?
I I I I | | | | | | | | | | | g
I think I nnv f-iirt*. „i„,, » t0 know ,
more of m - l. s peculiarities , than
ios people, for 1 have known him all
my ife
Therefore, when he told me one after
noon that he was going to be married.
I felt in a position to pity the girl from
the bottom of my heart. “Monty," by
tbe way * is a contraction of “Monu
ment,’ a name I specially invented, as
rJS™? b0,h bis ph - va,cal
He is tall aud extremely handsome.
after the st vle of the later and more
-
Greek gods, bearing on
every feature and in every movement
the stamp of languor and of laziness.
He is indolence personified, and, in¬
deed. .if you take that away, there re
mains little or nothing but Obstinacy
(with a big O). llus . combination,
mended together by a thick solution of
St C ° m | > P 10 ^ 008 nietapliori
*
Cll n ' a n a stonewall.
‘ ®’
y ion cannot argue with him; he will
n eitbe r ,^ convinced himself uor at
, .
ie r ; 0l ! \ e ° convincing jou. You
can io more-, mu against ins will,
aiU * f SP ‘ 0111 " Isies To be interested.
Finally you cannot even have the satis
faction of quarreling with him, for he
will not be roused, and looks on your
8lip ‘ e f? efforts to anger him with the
easy toioiance of a victorious Perseus
watching Medusa’s snaky locks in
tv me tnemselves around his fingers
and strive to make him relax his hold.
At one moment of our lives he would
bave la< Ule l,eIieve in llis lord, y WR y
that he was not unwilling to link my
destiny with his. But, strange to re
late, I remained unmoved by the gold¬
en prospect of his companionship, pro
tracted Indefinitely—perhaps eternally
_ an( j lns tentative hints lapsed easily
into oblivion. To return to the after¬
noon in question. Being aware of his
artistic temperament, I naturally juinp
ed to the conclusion that his choice
bad fallen ° u “ a daughter of the gods.”
“Oh, no,” he said in his slow way,
"a beautiful woman is delightful to
look at, but not to marry. She would
p e impossible to manage.”
“Then is she young?” 1 asked, though
my curiosity was somewhat damped.
“Just IT,” he observed thoughtfully
and was surprised at my exclamation,
“But, my dear Monty, you are old
enough to be”—
“Excuse me, Mimmie, I would rather
she were still younger. Marry a child,
and you may hope to educate her into
the wife you would cherish in your old
“Oh!” I gasped. “Then what is she
like?”
“Inclined to be frivolous, but I shall
soon remedy that, The poor girl is
only too glad to find a man who is not
hunting her for her paltry five or six
hundred a year.”
That 1 could readily believe, and, in
justice to Monty, I must say that mon
ey, as mere money, does not in the
least appeal to him. Perhaps that is
because he lias always had enough to
be comfortable.
But lie was not a good lover. He was
even then far more interested in the
academy than in Ids fiancee’s clmrms.
There were three or four portraits of
lovely women that he spoke of in a
wav that made me glad the originals
did not come within his sphere of ac
quaintance-for the girl’s sake.
He did not carry her photo in his
pocket. It took him several moments
of hard thought to remember her ad
dress, aud—“When you are intimate
enough to call her by her Christian
name, ” he remarked, “please call her
Euphemia and not Effie.”
“Why?” 1 asked, determined on no
account to do so.
“Because,” he answered impressive
ly, “Effie is too Insignificant for a mar
ried woman, and I have a strong objec
tion to pet names.”
“When.” I inquired sternly, “when
did you ever in the whole course of our
lives call me by my baptismal name?”
Monty smiled indulgently.
“That is different. You are not going
to be my wife.”
I confess I reveled in this consoling
thought, for nothing in the world could
ever reconcile me to the peculiar atroc
ity of my name, and if its full hideous
ness were to be the hourly accompani
merit of mv married lift* 1 should be
afraid of the consequences, It is Je
mima. Now. you may say, and with
perfect truth, that “Mimmie” is not
particularly melodious, but at least you
will admit that nothing could be worse
than Jemima and anything might be
better. after
“By the way.” said Monty a
pause, “I believe there was a time
.
when I bad a fa my T'S* n'ifi-CmCa
and tbo ”f, lt i0U hi; “ ‘ L
n«av have been,” I answered
eal ,Y v , «f 0 r*’l can distinctly rmnem
ber a time when I decided that certain
j v y OU wo uid make me a ba l husband,
And Monty bos *;wcd upon me <m** <■;
those ail forgiving, albeit sad. gmn
tbat arc so abominably irriLumg '..^eu
oue is trying one’s l>est to snub him.
After Monty’s casual remarks I was
surpilsed to find lithe a nice looking
giri. though with, of course, no pro
tensions to the Junoesque that Monty
demands of his ideal woman. She was
young, indeed, but had an old fash
ioued way with her that was infinitely
attractive. I had guessed intuitively
that she had neither father nor uioth
er, although many people might say
that this was judging my cousin too
hardly. Her guardians were an elder
ly uncle and aunt, who didn’t mind
what sh e did so long as she didn't
worry them, so I was glad to help her
wlt li her trousseau and see as much
of her as possible.
I soon discovered that Monty object
ed to her having so many friends.
“Lancelot." as she was made to call
him. thought "gadding about" showed
empty headedness."
“But. my tlear child,” I exclaimed.
“ he surely doesn’t expect you to drop
your friends just because you are go
iug to marry him? Why, you will
want them more than ever. What do
you suppose you'll do when he’s at I
work all day?” !
“Then he hasn’t told you he’s going j
to resign the partnership?" said Ef
fie timidly.
My heart froze, and the fact must
have been clearly evident to her. fot j
she hastened to add. “You don’t think i
he spoils me too much, do you. in glv
ing it up for my sake?”
And the recording angel should put it 1
to “EfHe, niy credit that I only answered: j
if he ever spoils you let me
know.”
* # * *
Yesti nifty I tackled him.
“What do you mean." I asked, “by
retiring from business at your age?”
** Alu , wUy uotr he sal d. “ lsn * t
a
husband’s place at his wife’s side?"
-‘Most emphatically no.” I rejoined
with deadly earnestness. “A husbands
duty is to make money for his wife to
enjoy herself with ”
“My dear Mimmie,” In* bogged pa¬
thetically. “don’t put those sorts of
ideas into Euphemia’s head. You art*
too frivolously minded to understand
that a woman should be a man's hand¬
maid mentally as well as physically
and not his plaything. 1 don’t want a
wife who requires amusing or who
wishes to amuse me. If I want relax¬
ation. 1 can come and see you. 1 want
her to be useful and domesticated,
and”—
“And,” I Interrupted, “what do you
think she will want to he?”
Monty actually gasped. Then lie re
covered himself sufficiently to answer ]
charaeteristica lly:
“She will want to be what l make
her.”
I’oer Effie! And the wedding Is to
morrow.'— Westminster Budget.
.•.i^^sx-iTi-::- *K*i-M*IT!*l*l *- 1 *!*|*|*|*
* *
jf m nn:s & T
ill p; ^7 *
d*
* ±
± *
* By Kennedy Bing,
T *
y. A Vivid Sketch ol a Girl Who
Had Erred Returning *
v ‘ to Her Barents. • —
* r-iTI*:*W•*!v.*.vi*• v*
Ti-s-ITI*!TI#IT!
it was gloaming when Janet Gornfie
m>pt t o the white gate leading to her
father’s farm. On the ridge between
iu *r and the west she saw the two long
shafts of a tilted roller standing up
dark, gaunt. The sight made her sud
denly afraid. She thought of her fa
tlier. Was it he who bad been woik
illg with the roller-wliu had left It
there an hour since? She paused vitii
a beating heart.
After u little she opened the gate
au ‘,j s jjpped quietly through, holding turned to it
care f U lIy in her hand as she
f steu it. She remembered how it ai
a with clap,
ways swung to the post a
( though she was far from the
aiu i making a
house, she shrank from
uo j so Then she turned up the hilly
.
j oa q_
when she came out upon the bare
uplands, they were flooded with un
canuv light, it dazzled Janet so that
glje co uUl scarcely see the house lying
straig:llt before her. Iler whole body
f( q t how visible to the farm folk it
nmst coming on illumined in the
yellow glare. She cowered so closely
t0 the st unted hedge that the strag
gip>g brambles tugged at her. A burst
of terrible splendor came athwart the
world< an awful dying gloom. Ear and
M .j de flamed the red and silent moors
j;j altars lighted for the end of time,
;e aud little
Janet crept on feeling mean
in the great desolation.
At i as t she stood within the long
p p a dow that was cast toward her by
tll „ Louse. So dark and silent were
the buildings that her heart stopped
beating with a sudden dread. But
presently ft familiar sound fell on her
ear. and she breathed with relief on
looking round. Over in the little croft
the ducks were waddling home, late
as usual, u a:;d clattering away to then**
selves. when the drake stood up >■' nd
the white round , of
flapped his wings,
his breast shone vividly.
Tbe farm road led to-the square close
at tbe back of tbe dwelling bouse. The
front was to the sunset. Janet stole
to the corner of Jhe leu-iWtnd c p|,rp “‘-d
down tlirough the shadows io the
kitchen door. She was shaking with
fear. Her father had threatened that
if ever she came back he would hound
the dog at her. She hoped it would
not be a new dog. P.aldy, she knew,
would not bite her. The tall white
wootied pump glimmered like a ghost
in the gloom. She remembered every
feature of the place as if it were yes
terday she went away. Vet she felt
site was looking at it athwart an eter
nity. The double feeling of fnmtliarl
ty aud strangeness made her conscious
of her physical abasement. Eve*/
thing at home was the same. It was
she who was different, different.
A stall tied cow lowed loudly In the
empty byre, and the mournful sound
was echoed by the gaunt buildings,
Janet shivered and drew iter poor
shawl about her shoulders, At last
she ventured out. creeping down the
close on her tiptoes tremblingly
When she reached the step of the back
door, she stood and listened for a
sound within. The house was silent
as death.
Twice she raised her hand to knock,
and twice she let It fall in cowardice,
Then self pity came over her with a
burst in the throat, and her lips whls
pored in dull repetition: “Oh, it’s a pity
o’ me! It’s a pity o’ me! My God, aye!
It’s a gevan pity o’ me!” She knocked
faintly. There was no response. As
she craned to listen she beard the old
fashioned kitchen clock tick with a
dreary loudness.
Slu* knocked again. The scrunt of a
chair being pushed backward on the
stone floor made the blood prick her
veins suddenly. A silence followed
and then the shuttle of slippered feet
coming slowly. Would it no her fa
ther? And would lie curse her? Her
tongue was dry in her mouth.
A Dolt clanked to the wall, the door
creaked on its hinges, nnd somebody
peered out at her. hand over eyebrows,
"It's you!” said Iter mot iter at last.
The woman stared at her daughter
for awhile and then turned away with
out a word, leaving the door open lie
bind her. Janet followed to the klteli
<*n with a timorous foot that was ready
to start backward. But her father was
not In the kitchen.
There was a strange stillness. The
rich light came streaming through the
bare window and fell full upon the
dresser. The dishes shone weirdly
against it. There on its old hook
Janet's mug was still hanging, her
name on it. With a sudden stab of
memory she thought of tin* night her
father had brought it home to ln*r from
the winter fair at Garble, coming in
from tin* wonderful darkness, wi:h
snowflakes on his coat, to his little girl
by the great tire; how blithe luiu -ecu
his dark eye. how cheery and red the
U1 i ( ]<u t . 0 f |,is cheek, She could still
feel his linger rough and cold beneath
her chin and the benediction of his
eyes looking down at her. But now —
all, < 'lirist!
Mrs. Gondii* had put away In the
window sill her great Bible and her
heavy white rimmed spectacle* a top
of it. Janet was still standing.
"Sit douu,” said her mother care
lessly.
Janet sat down on the edge of a
chair close to the door. Rnb. the cat
she lmd retired, was sitting near her in
a blank band of sunshine lying
athwart the tings, his legs propped In
froat of lllm liUu two furry little pH
i arK , his gray golden slits of eyes fixed
0 u the window. Janet, feeling the con
gtraint of the silence, put out her hand
and. not during to speak aloud. said
“Rah! in a choking whisper, Itab
turned and looked at her carelessly,
through his half shut eyes. Then he
r0S( . and walked, with lazy stretchings
„f the hind legs, away over to the
hearth. There he sat down and stand
up at a blue wisp of (lame blinking in
the grate. The monotonous tick of the
clock was the only sound in the wide
kitchen.
Mrs. Goudie stood with her ham! on
the Lack of a chair. At first her eyes
gazed before her with the wide look of
a proud auger, and her mouth was
hard. The glow fell upon her withered
face and revealed its dark and stern
nobility. Presently her eyes narrowed
and went away, and she semm-d to be
musing. 1 lien a strange smile that
was uot pleasant to look at appeared
about the corn-rs of her mouth. But
she did not speak.
The light became more unearthly.
“1 declare.” said Mrs. Goudie sud
denly, with , a false , , shrillness . of „ vome
that made Janet wince; '1 declare, it s
like the day o' judgment, tnis. The
smile never left her lips,
Again was appalling silence,
clock seemed to Le ticking n.
more loudly. As Janet listened to its
slow metallic beat her heart sank low
er in her breast. Where could her fa
tlier be? He was so seldom out of the
kitchen at the gloaming. She turned
her head to see wliat o'clock it was.
The old yellow di*>l was shining vvi tt
eerie vividness.
All this time her mother had glyen
no sign either of pity or resent merit
But
“Well.” she said at last. :th -
that ironic edge on her voice; "well.
had better gang , butt the i: 00 d'ye no
think t
Janet rose passively without sp-ak*
ing. Now that her ordeal had c-orae
^ 51 .,* was too feeble to b harply afraid,
She felt herself tewrc oUwnrd_ lik“ *1
creature in the clutch of fate, site
was going to meet her father. A bare
lobby with whitewashed walls ran
the front door between the kiteh
on and tin* parlor. A shaft of yellow
struck in through an oblong slit
0 f g i a ss above the door, falling straight
upon n row of pegs. On one of these
wits the farmer’s everyday hat, a.
square hard felt, green gilt at the side*
with age. The level rays revealed tv
j thick coating of dust on It.
Tin* mother opened the room door.
which fell to the right, and then stop
pod. speaking over her shoulder.
“We’ve made changes here," she said
shrilly, as if showing alterations to :v
stranger. She pointed to a bod. tin
curtained head of which was close u>
the door on the left. Janet had begun
, 0 tremble.
She followed her mother into the
room. At first site could set* nothing
because of the invading glory.
“There’s your tether!” said Mrs.
G outlie.
Janet turned her eyes from the light,
nnd there lay her father in his shroud
beneath the full glow of sunset.
The clock ticked loudly In the
kitchen.
A fringe of sandy whiskers stuck
out from the tight Jaw bandage. There
were vivid hairs in It. redly gleaming.
Janet’s knees were water below her.
j g] K » s;i:il; by the bed.
’T'other!” site panted, with o|*cu
mouth and unstrung lips, “lVtherr
and iben with u shrill scream of au
guish: “Oh. God; My father! My fit
ti.er! My fetheiT*
“A-hey.” said her mother, "that's
what ye brocht your fether till!" On
'an April morning three and twenty
j years ago this woman had felt a thoii
sand pulses leap and throb within iter
when a feeble little cry told that from
j her body a living soul bad come into
tin> world ah, mystic wonder! -n new
born soul and front Iter body and the
child of the man she loved. Hilt that
j child had broken tin* heart of tin* man
site loved, and she was merciless,
Suddenly a blatant low from the
great empty byre echoed through the
silence hollowly, and again there was
silence.
The somber radiance deepened In the
room. The brass knobs at the head of
the bed gleamed mournfully.
“Speak to me. fether!’ whispered
Janet. "Speak to me. fether! S|m*:i1c
to me’."
But in* lay with closed eyes In the
lonely light, nnd it scented to Janet
that liis shut lips smiled smiled with
the quiet Irony of the dead, who know
the secrets of all tilings and will tell
! us nothing.- Sneaker.
A \ol*> Rox,
Like children, savages in all parts of
the* world arc possessed of eternal curi¬
osity. Mr. II. Cayley-Webster, a well
known English traveler, gives an
amusing instance of this trait among
the natives of New Guinea.
One day a piano arrived for Ids ex¬
cellency the governor, and some na¬
tives were told to carry the strange
looking case from the bench to the
house. After going a few yards one
stumbled, causing one end of tin* crate
to strike the ground, nnd. ever on tin*
alert for strange noises, their cars were
Immediately pressed against It, and
they listened until the “ting” of the
wires lmd died away.
Again, after a yard or two, a similar
mishap occurred. Again many cars
were listening to the sound so foreign
to them, until a native, rattier more
knowing than the rest, with a heave
raised the whole case a few inches
from the ground and let it go.
The noise which issued from the In¬
side had by tills time worked them rq>
to such a frenzy that they one and all
seized upon the case, rolled it over and
over, and danced with joy at the
strange sounds which came forth. And
it was not until this odd performance
had been repeated many times that the
eye of an oificlal was attracted by the
shouts and yells of the natives; not,
however, before much damage had
been done and many strings broken.
Only Once n Year.
A certain professor Is well known as
a man whose scientific studies have
tended to exaggerate a natural disposi¬
tion to mental abstraction. The pro¬
fessor’s friends, who are also his
strong admirers, understand ids pecul¬
iarity and overlook in him what might
not be excused in a commonplace |s»r
hoji. A lady is very fond of telling this
incident. She was at a reception given
at the professor’s house. 'The occasion
had been made delightful by 11 1 .** pro¬
fessor aud Ills accomplished wife and
daughters. Toward the close of the
evening tin* lady, who had greatly en¬
joyed the affair, approached the host
and asked him, with much enthusiasm:
“IIow ofi-m do you have these de¬
lightful reunions, professor?”
No polite prevarication delayed the
reply;
"Thank goodness, madam, but once
a year!”
flay Presses.
(mil at the Hardware store of
J>. M. Bush nnd examine the’* Bed
Kipper horse* power hay press
put up by Sik< - Bros.. Ibdeun, <iu.
If 13 guaranteed to turn out from
15 to 20 I tab
cun buy it for $50.00.