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VOL. III.—NO. 23.
C|i(paimltonUtsnot
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Biisinoss Cards
JOr- T- i_j- J'exilsilris,
HAMILTON, GA.
Til OS. S. MITCHELL , 31. J).,
Resilient Physician and Surgeon,
HAMILTON GEORGIA
Special attention given to operative surgery.
Terms Cash
PRESTON GIBBS,
SURGEON and PHYSICIAN,
Hamilton, Ga.
Will be found at tbe hotel or tbe store of
W II Johnston unless professionally engaged.
CHATTAHOOCHEE HOUSE ,
Bv J- T. HIGGINBOTHEM.
WEST POINT, GA
ALONZO A. DOZIER,
Attorney and Counselor at Law,
COLUMBUS, GA.
Practices in State and Federal Courts in
Georgia and Alabama.. Office over C. A.
Redd & Co’s, 126 Ilroad st. dec4-6m
SANDY ALEXANDER'S
BARBER SHOP,
Ogletho fn t, Columbus, Ga
Give me a call when you come to town,
and 1 will do my best to please. decll-Gm
Hines Dossier,
ATTORNEY-AT LAW,
HAMILTON, GEORGIA
Will practice in the Chattahoochee Circuit,
or anvwhere else. Office in the Northwes
corner of the Court-house, up-stairs. jan
ED. TERRY'S BARBER SEOP,
COLUMBUS, GA.
Go to Ed Terfy’s, if ydn want an easy
shave, ahd your hair cut by first-class bar
bers and'in a first-class barber shop, crea
ted under the flankin Hou?e. EC P 4
Read-This Twice.
The People’s Ledger contains no continued
Stories, p£i'4s, 48 columns of choice
miscellaficous reading matter every week, to
eether With articles from the pens of such
well-known writers as Nasi y, Oliver Optic,
Rylvanns Cobb, .ir., Mw? AtcOtt, Will Cart
tbu, J. T. Trowbridge, Mark Twain, etc.
dr I will send the People's Ledger
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months, on trial, on recefyt of only 50 c.
The People’s Ledger is an old established
and reliable weekly pa]er. published every
Raturdav, and is very popular througbouttbe
New England and Middle States. Address
HERMANN K. CURTIS, Publisher,
dec2s-3m 12 School st, Boston, Mass.
Hamilton flUl Visitor.
A GOOD STORY.
Dr. Silas Walsh one day eat in his
office reading a very interesting book.
It was a part of bis busiuess, this
reading, for the book was of a science
within the scope of his profession.
He was comparatively a young man,
and had the reputation of being an
excellent physician. While he read
someone rang his office bell.
It was a ragged, dirty boy, known
in Ernsworth as “ Hammer Jim ”
ragged and dirty, and with the vile
ness of the slum upon him—a boy
vicious and profane, against whom
every other boy in town was warned
—a boy who was called a thief and a
villain, whom no effort of the Over
seers had been able to reclaim, and
who seemed to care for nothing but
to mako people afraid of him. His
true name, as the Overseers had it,
was James Ammerton. About his
father nobody in Ernsworth had ever
known. His mother had died an in
mate of the poor house.
On the present occasion, Jim’s face
was not only dirty, but it was
bloody; and there was blood upon
his grimed abd tattered garments.
“ Please, sir, won’t you fix my
head ? I’ve got a hurt.”
“What kind of a hurt? ” asked the
doctor.
“I’m afeared it’s bad, sir,” said
the boy, sobbingly. “ One o’ Mr.
Dunn’s men hit me with a rock.—
Oh! ”
“ What did he hit yon for? ”
“ I dono, sir.”
“ Yes, you do know. What did he
throw the stone at you for?”
“ Why, sir, I was pick’n up an ap
ple Wilder one oi his trees.”
Dr. Walsh Would iiot touch the
boy’s head with Ills finget-s. There
was no need of it. He could see that
there was only it ccalp wound, and
that the blood had ceased to flow.
“ Go home,” he said, “ and lot yom
folks wash your head, and put on a
clean bandage.”
“Please,' sir, I haiut got no home,
and I haint got no folks.”
"Yuu cop Duinewliere, clun’t you?”
“I stop at the poor-’us when they
doh’t kick me out.”
“Well, my boy, you are not go’ng
to die from this. Go and get some
body to wash your head; or, go and
wash it yourself —and then tie your
handkerchief on.”
“Please, sir, I haint got Bo—”
“ Hold up, my boy. I haven’t got
time to waste. You won’t suffer if
you go as you are.”
And with this Dr. Silas Walsh
closed the door and returned to his
book. He had not meant to be un
kind; but, really, he had not thought
there was any need of professional
service on his part; and, certainly,
he did not want that bad boy in Lis
office.
But Dr. Walsh had not been alone
cognizant of the boy’s visit. There
had been a witness at an upper win
dow. The doctor’s wife had seen
and heard. She was a woman. She
Was not strong, and resolute, and
dignified, like her husband. Her
heart was not only tender, but it was
used to aching. She had no children
living; but there were two little
mounds in the church-yard which told
her of angels in heaven that could
call her Alother! Acting upon her
impulse, as she was very apt to act,
she slipped down and called the boy
in, by the back way, to the wash
room. He came in, rags, dirt, and all,
wondering what was wanted, ffhe
sweet voice that had called him had
not frightened him. He came in,
and stood looking at Mary Walsh,
and as lie looked his sobbing ceased.
“ Sit down, my boy.”
He sat down.
“If I will help you, will you try
to be good ? ”
“ I can’t be good.”
“ Why not ? ”
“’Cause I can’t. GTaint in me.
Everybody says so.”
“ But you can try ? ”
n I dono.”
“If I should help you, you would
bo willing to try, to please me ? ”
“ Yes’m I should certain.”
Mrs. Walsh brought a basin of wa
ter, and a soft sponge, and with ten
der hand she washed the boy’s head
and face. Then, with a pair of scis
sors, she clipped away the hair from
fhe wound—curling, handsome hair
and found it not a bad one. She
brought a piece of sticking-plaster,
which she fixed upon it, and then she
brushed the hair back from the full
brow, and looked into the boy’s face
HAMILTON, HARRIS CO., GA„ FRIDAY, JUNE 11, 1875.
—not a bad face—not an evil face.
Shutting out the rags and the dirt, it
was really a handsome face.
“ What’s your name, my boy ? ”
“Hammer Jim, ma’am; and some
times Ragged Jim.”
“1 mean, how were you chris
tened ? ”
“ W’ich, ’m ? ”
“Don’t you know what name your
parents gave you ? ”
“O—ye-es. It’s down on the
’seers’ books, mum, as James Am
merton.”
“Well, James, tbe hurt on your
head is not a bad one, and if you are
careful not to rub off the plaster it
will very soon heal up. Are you
hungry ? ”
“Please, ma’am, I haven’t eat
nothin' to-day.”
Mrs. Walsh brought out some
bread and butter, and a cup of milk,
and allowed the boy to sit there in
the wash-room and eat. And while
he ate she watched him narrowly,
scanning overy feature. Surely, if
the science of physiognomy, which
her husband studied so much, and
with such faith, was reliable, this boy
ought to have grand capacities. Once
more, shutting out the rag3 and filth,
and only observing tbe hair, now
glossy and waving, from the dexteri
ous manipulations, over a shapely
head, and marking the face, with its
eyes of lustrotls gray, and the perfect
nose, and the mouth like a cupid’s
bow, and the chin strong, without
being unseemly—seeing this withoiit
the dregs, and the boy was handsome.
Mrs. Walsh, thinking cf thfe little
mounds in the church-yard, prayed to
God that sho might be yet a happy
mother; and if a boy was to bless her
maternity, she could not ask that he
should bo handsomer than she believ
ed she could make this boy
Jim finished eating, and stood up.
“James,” said the little woman—
for sho was a litttle woman, and a
perfect picture of a loving and lova
ble little woman —“James, when you
are hungry, and have nothing to eat,
if you will come to this door, ; I will
feed you. I don't want you to go
hungry.”
“I should like to come, ma’am,”
“And if I food you when you are
hungry, will you not try to bo good
for my sake ? ”
The boy hung his head and consid
ered. Some might have wondered
that he did not answer at once as a
grateful boy ought; but Airs. Walsh
saw deeper than that. The lad was
considering how he might answer
safely and truthfully.
“If they’d let me be good, ma’am,
but they won’t,” he said, at length.
“Will you try all you can ?”
Mrs. IValsh gave tho Lid a small
parcel of food in a paper, and patted
his curly head. The boy had not
yet shed a tear since the pain of the
wound had been assuaged. Some
might have thought that he was not
grateful; but the little woman could
see the gratitude in tho deeper light
of the eye. The old crust was not
broken enough yet for tears.
Afterwards Airs. Walsh told her
husband what she had done, and he
laughed at her.
“Do you think, Alary, that your
kindness ern help that ragged waif? ”
“I do not think it will hurt him,
Silas.”
It was not the first time that AUs.
Walsh had delivered answers to the
erudite doctor which effectually estop
ped di-.cussion.
After that Jim came often to the
wash-room door, and was fed; and
he came cleaner and more orderly
with each succeeding visit. At last
Mrs, Walsh was informed that a
friend was going away into the far
Western country to take up land,
aod make a frontier farm. The
thought occurred to her that this
might be a good opportunity for
James Ammerton. She saw her
friend, and brought J m to his notice,
and the result was that the boy went
away with the emigrant adventurer.
And she heard from her friend a year
later that he liked the boy very much.
Two years later the emigrant wrote
f’-rst .Tim rti r a treasure. And Mrs.
Walsh showed the letter lo her hus
band ; and he smiled and kissed his
little wife, and said that he was glad.
And lie had another source of glad
ness. Upon her bosom his little wife
bore a robust, healthy boy, their own
son, who gave promise of life and
happiness in the lime to come.
The years sped on and James Am
merton dropped out from the life
which Mary Walsh knew. The last
she heard was five years after Its went
away from Ernsworth, and Jim bad
then started out for the golden moun
tains on his own account, to com
mence in earnest his own life-battle.
Rut there was a joy and a pride in
the little woman’s life which held its
place, aiid ’t grew and strengthened.
Her boy, whom they called I hilip,
grew to be a youth of great promise
—a bright, kind-hearted, good boy,
whom everybody loved; and none
loved him morejdian did his parents.
In fact, they worshipped him; or, at
■least, his mother did. At the ago of
seventeen Philip Walsh entered col
lege, and at the age of twenty-one he
graduated withonor; but the long
and severe study had taxod his sys
tem, and he entered upon the stage
of manhood not quite so strong in
body as lie should have been. His
mother saw it and was anxious. His
FatlrW saw it, and decided that he
should have recreation and recupera
tion before he entered into active
business. Dr. Walsh was not pecu
niarily able to send his son off on ex
pensive travel, but he found opportu
nity for his engagement upon the
staff of an exploring expedition,
which would combine healthful recre
ation with ail equally healthful occu
pation. , , ,
Tho expedition was bound For the
Western wilderness, and wo need not
tell of the parting between the mother
and her beloved son. She kissed him,
and blessed him; and then hung upon
his neck with more kisses and bless
ings, and then went away to her
chambei and died!
Philip wrote homo often on his
way out; and he wroto after lie had
reached tho wilderness. His accounts
were glowing, and his health was im
proving. Three months of forest life,
and forest labor, of which Philip
wrote ip p. letter that had to be borno
more than a hundred miles to the
nearest post, and then there followed
months of silence. Where was Phil
ip? Why did lie not write?
One day Dr, Walsh came home
pale and faint, wi h a newspaper
crumpled and crushed in his hand.
Not immediately, but by and by, be
xran luiutvl to lot Rio wlfo lead whAt.
lie bad seen in that paper. 31ie read
it and fainted like ono mortally
stricken.
It was a priper from a fur Western
city, and it told of the sad fato of the
exploring party under charge of Col.
John Beauchampc, how they had
been attacked by an overpowering
party of Indians, and how those not
massacred had been carried away
captive. ,
Poor little woman! Poor Doctor
Walsh! But the mother suffered
most. Her bead, already taking on
its crown of silver, was bowed in
blinding agony, and her heart was
well-nigh broken. The joy was gone
out from her life, and thick darkness
was round about her.
And so passed half a year. One
day the postman left a Piter at the
door. The hand of tho superscription
was fami'iar. Airs. Walsh tore it
open, and glanced her eyes oyer its
contents. O,joy! O,rapture! Her
boy lived ! was well! and was on his
way to her!
When Dr. Walsh entered the room
lie found his wife fainting, with the
letter clutched in her nerveless
grasp.
By and by, when the first great
surge had pas-cd, husband and wife
sat down and read the letter under
etandingly.
“Thank God! I found a true
friend, or, I should say, a true friend
found me,” wrote Philip, after lie had
told of his safety, and of his where
abouts. “ But for the coming of this
friend I should have died ere this,
lie heard of me by name, and learned
wl e ice I came, and when lie khew
that I was from Ernsworth, and was
the son of Silas and Mary Walsh, he
bent all his energies to my release,
lie spent thousands of dollars in en
listing and equipping men for the
work, and with his own hand he struck
down my savage captor, and took me
thenceforth under his care and pro
tection. God bless him! And he
you ready, both, to bless him, for lie
is Coining home with me.”
Upcii thCir bended knees, that
night, the rejoicing parents thanked
God for all his goodness, and called
down blessings upon the head of the
unknown preserver of their darling.
And, in time, radiant and strong,
their Philip came home to them —
came home a bold and educated man,
fitted for the battle of life—came
i home knowing enough of life’s vicis
j situdes, and prepared lo appreciate
its blessings.
And with Philip Came a man of
middle-age—a strong, frank-faced,
handsome man, with gray eyes and
curling hair.
“This,” said the son, when lie had
been released from his mother’s rap
turous embrace, “is my Jpreserver,
Do you not know him?”
The doctor looked, and shook his
head. He did not know.
Rut the little woman observed more
keenly. Upon her the light broke
overpt weringly.
“Is it,” bLo whispered, putting
forth her hands, “ is it J ames Ammkr
TON ? ”
“ Yes,” said the man, a stranger
now no tnorcj “I am Jamiss Ammer
ton! And I thank God who has
given me opportunity thus to show
how gratefully I remember all your
kindness to me, my more than moth
er!”
And ho held her hands, and pressed
them to bis lips, and blessed her again
and again, telling her, with streaming
eyes, that she, of all the world, had
lifted him up and saved him !
That evening Mrs. Walsh, sitting
by her husband’s side, and holding
ono of his hands, said to him:
“Once upon a time a pebble was
kicked about In tho waste of sand.
A lapidary saw it,, and picked it up,
and when ho had brushed away the
dirt from its surface, lie applied his
chbcl, and broke through the crust,
and behold —a diamond, pure and
bright! ”
To Yodno Men.— Somo old genius
gives tho following excellent advitjo
to young men who “ depend on fath
er ” for their support and tako no in
terest in btisinoss, but aro regular
drones in the hive; subsisting on
that which is earned by others:
“Come, off with your coat, clinch
tho saw, tho plow handles, tho axo,
the pick-ax, the spade—anything that
will enable you to stir your blood !
Fly round and tear your jacket, ra
ther than bo tho passive recipient of
tho old gentleman’s bounty ! Sooner
than play tho dandy at dad’s expense
hire yourself out to a potato patch,
let yourself out to stop holes, or
watch tho bars, ana when *uu think
yourself entitled to a resting spoil, do
it on your own hook. Got up in tiio
morning and turn round at least twice
before breakfast—help the old gen
tleman—give him now and llier a
lift in business, learn how to take the
load, and not depend forever on being
led; and you have no idea how die
discipline will benefit you. Do this,
and our word for it, you will seem to
breathe anew atmosphere, possess a
now fraino, tread anew earth, wake
to destiny, and you may begin to as
pire to manhood.”
A True Laijy. —Loamy and style
are not too surest passports to re
spectability—some of the noblest
specimens of womanhood that the
world has ever seen, have presented
the plainest and most unprepossessing
appearance. A woman’s worth is to
be estimated by the real goodness of
her heart, tho greatness of her soul,
arid the purity and sweetness of her
character; and a woman with a kind
ly disposition and a well balanced
mind and temper, is lovely and attrac
tive, bo her face ever so plain, and
figure ever so homely; she makes the
best of wives, and truest of mothers.
She has a higher purpose in living
than the beautiful yet supercilious
woman, who has no higher ambition
than to flaunt her finery on tho streets
or to gratify lior inordinato vanity by
extracting flattery arid praise from
society whose compliments arc as hol
low as they are insincere.
Youthful Vtew of Oxkn. —A lit
tle boy in the Bishop Scott Grammar
School at Portland, Oregon, has got
ten off the following luminous view
of “oxen.” His “composition” is
given verbatim et literatim:
Oxen is a vory slow animal. They
are very good to break up ground. 1
would rather have horses if they did
not have colic, which they say is wind
collected in a bunch which makes it
dangercser to keep horses than oXcn.
If there vrere no horses people wood
have tc wheel their wood on a wheel
barrow. It would lake thorn too or
three day* to’ wheel a cord a mile.—
Cows are useful to. I heard some
people say that IT lh?y had to be a
ox or' a cow they would sooner be a
cow, but I think that when it comes
to be milked on a cold winter morn
ing, I think they would rather be oxen
—oxen don’t have to raise calves. If
I had to be a ox or a cow I wood be a
heifer, but if 1 could not be a heffer
and had to be both X would be a ox.
Letter from Tom Toodles.
Cincinnati, Ohio, June 5, 1875.
Mr. Rouij.Y —ln my last I prom
ised to tell you something about the
people with whom I was boarding,
and would; but I jam n.ot boarding at
the same place an", more now-
Perhaps you would like to know
the reason. I’ll tell you.
Let me introduce you to the family,
then I’ll proceed:
“ Ladies, permit me to present my
very particular friend, Mr. Boully, of
Georgia. . Mrs. Fassard, Mr. Boully,
and these are her two amiable daugh
ters, Misses and Mary.” (That’s
the way they do it here.) .
Supposing you to bo occupied with
the ladies, I will proceed with my
story.
Ono night, after I had gone to bed,
I heard a terrible screaming down
•stairs. At first I thought it was cats
(you know), then I thought it was
somebody whipping a puppy; but the
loud scream ng died away to a low,
tremulous moan, reminding' me ol
long ago, when owls used to scare
me out of two or three weeks’ growth
by whining near my window; then
it changed—sounding like a distant
camp-meeting, growing louder and
louder, until it filled the entiro house
witli ono continued scream, making
rats and crickets scamper to their
homes. The little dog in the back
yard got upon a barrel and howled.
Then it changed to a low murmur like
that of a dying calf, and in nnothcr
instant rose to the highest pitch. I
caught the words, “ O-h-h-h, d-o-o-o!”
I knew then some demon was mur
dering Miss Nellie or Alias Mary. I
did not stop to oonsidor, but throw'
the cover off mo at a single jork—tore
from under tho pillow my Colt’s re
volver, alid at one bound found my
self at tho foot of tho stairs, hoad
down, heels up; my pistol npinning
round on tho floor, popping away like
a pack of crackers.
In an instant I was on my feet; re
covered my pistol, and throwing my
whole weight against tho parlor door,
burst it wide open, demanding in tho
most mastorly voicol could command,
“ Whnt’u tho mattor ?”
No ono stopped to aswer. Miss
Mary flew behind tho door, a follow
with his hair parted in tho rnidd'e,
out the window. I sent a ball aftor
him, tearing away about half a shut
ter. Miss Mary, behind the door, was
set tailing, “Oh! do have mercy!
Police ! police 1 Help! help ! Oh !
for mercy sake, do not hurt me 1”
“ I would not hurt you for a thous
and dollars,” said I. “ What was
that fellow do—”
“What’s thcjmatlor hero ? What’s
tho matter?” demanded a hoarso
voice behind mo.
I turned and saw two fellows bo
hind me like the ono who got after me
at tho park. I told them as quickly
as I could, that there had been a fel
low in tho house trying to rob it, and
I shot at him as he run out through
tho window.
“Which way did ho go?” they
both asked.
“ Right up tlio street,” I answered;
and as thoy turned to leave, I saw tho
follow had loft his hat, so I gave it to
them, thinking it might bo of ntfe.
They both ilew up tfio street, blow
ing whistles as hard es ever they
could.
All this time Miss Alary was behind
the door, trying to say something;
but all J heard hc-r say was: “Oh !
no, no; it isn’t true; it’s a mistake.
He ran to call —He in my—lie came
to—lt was Mr!—.” And a lot of
other stuff that I could not under
stand. I asked her to como out and
tell me what had been the mattor.
She called mo an old fool, and told
mo to go and put on my clothes, and
then commenced crying.
I looked at myself and concluded
she was right. Ho I went tip to my
room and lay down. I cottld not
sleep for some time, but after a while
I did.
Next morning those soldier-looking
fellows came back and said that I
must go with them to the city hall—
that they caught the fellow, but that
he said I had Ifed. I told them I
could prove it by Miss Mary. So she
was sent for. Alter some lime she
carne down, but did not want to go.
They told her she would have to go
—that she was needed for a witness.
They carried us to tbo courthouse
—they called it city hall. The fellow
was these, lie looked as mean ao
ever anbody could.
After a while the judge came in.
He swore me, and asked me if I had
any conscientious scruples about kiss-
$2.00 A YEAR
ing. I told him no. So he made
me kiss a book, then told me to tell
what I knew about it. I told him as
well as I could.
Then he swore Miss Mary, and as
she did not object to kissing, he made
her kiss the book too. Then he asked
her what she knew about it. Shq
said she could not imagine what on
earth tnadp.me run down stairs, break
open the parlor door, and shoot at
Mr. . That lie had called to
spend tho evening with her, and that
she was singing “La Grand Dutchie ’.
(or somctlyug like that); that she
was not screaming as I had said, but;
that tho music was upon very “ high
keys.”
In short, I came to tho conclusion,
that I had acted a pretty large size
fool, judging by what Miss Alary said.,
The juijgo said he would dismiss
tho prisoner, and that, if I didn’t,
mind, lie would “send me up for
about thirty days.”
Now you have it all in a nut-shell,,
large size, why I am not hoarding
with Mrs. Fassard any more. ,
1 will tell you one thing more and
thon I will close. r
Yon noodn’t be afraid of a fellow
that parts his hair in the middle,
There isn’t au ounce of fight in a toil
of them.
Yours in F„ H. and C.,
Tom Toodi.bs.
WIT and 11UM0B.
Singular—to see a garden walk.
Tho wandeHirf heiross—tho wind
lass.
What holds all tho snuff in the
world ? No one nose.
Maino has anew town called Skat
ohawatchiokatoliie.
What is it that a poor man has and
a rich man wants? Nothing.
“Oh, my dear wife,” said John
Henry, as ho paid the milliner’s bill.
’Ours at home—Tho baby.
A sweet chapter—Jenny-sis.
Trade winds—Business airs.
A breezy girl—The wind-lass. _
Good place for match-making—
s Sulphur Springs.
An inside dontal expense—Having
a tooth filled.
Common pleas —Please shnt the
door.
It takes tho Irish to “wake” the
dead.
it
As you cannot avoid your own
company, make it as good as possible.
If you wish to make a drum stick,
set it on tho head of a tar barrel.
-n
Why is a cat on its hind legs like
the fjjdls ofNiagra? Because it’s a
eat-erect.
, “ once saty a preachprj
1 1 ncludcs woman, for man embraces
woman.”
Tho tailor is the poor man’s
friend, inasmuch an he settles the
rents.
To many the path of life is nearly
all tunnels,' This is what makes it
such a bore, .
A young lady rflakes Shakespejtre,
say: “An eye like mas to threaten
and command.
No man cares to see himself M oth
ers see him, when ho is looked at by
cross eyed men.
Speaking of tho round world, much
can be said on both sides.
One who can a'ways get bread
when ho kneads it —A baker.
Delightful “Patrons of Husbandry”
Female match-makers.
Waisting sweetness—Putting your
arm alo it a pretty woman.
The most stoadfast followers ef our
fortune—Our creditors.
If you are out in a driving storm,
don’t attempt to hold tho rains.
A sailor knows there’s a man in thfc
moon because he’s been to sea.
Vermont has fi young lady six feet
seven inches high* and when a yon g
man succeeds in kissing her they say
ho is M gone up.” - • ,
A correspondent says the reason
why sailers prefer the three-masted
ship to those with two masts is th.it
no man can serve two masters.
At last accounts, the Philadelphia
detectives were still hard at work in
the bar-room of the Centennial Hotel
hunting for Charlie Ross.
In au exchange, a gentleman pro
poses to exchange an old and reliab'e
bunion for a rnvdern sort of barome
ter that will not get so excited at ev -
ery little showe. that comes up.
A pair of tights—Two
Aa executive hangman-