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VOL. III.—NO. 23. C|i(paimltonUtsnot D. W. 0. BOULLY, Proprietor. CASH SUBSCRIPTION RATES. One copy one year $2 00 One copy fix months 1 00 One copy three months 75 Any one furnishing five subscribers, with the money, will receive a copy free Subscribers wishing their papers changed from one pos.t-office to another, must state the name of the post office from which they wish it changed, as Well as that to which tiiey wish it sent. All subscriptions must be paid in advance. 'Tire paper will be stopped at the end of the time paid for, unless subscriptions are pre viously renewed. i’ifty numbers complete the year, CASH ADVERTISING RATES. Space 1 \t*o 3 mos 6 mos 12 imi, 7 inch ... $ 4 OOTITOO $ 10 00 2 inches .. 460 725 11 00 18 00 8 inches .. 600 900 15 00 22 00 4 inches.. 560 11 00 18 00 27 00 I column.. 650 14 00 25 00 35 00 1 column.. 12 50 25 00 40 00 60 00 1 column,, 22 00 41 00 62 00 100 00 Marriages and- deaths not exceeding six lines will be published free. Payments to be made quarterly in advance, according to schedule rates, unless otherwise agreed upon. Persons sending advertisements, will state the length of time they wish them published and the space they waht them to occupy. Parties advertising by contract will be re stricted to their legitimate business. Elgad Advertisements. Sheriffs sales, per inch, four weeks.. .$3 50 “ mortgage fi fa sales, per inch, eight weeks.... 6 50 Citation for letters of administration, guardianship, etc., thirty days 3 00 Notice to debtors tod creditors of an estate,, forty days. .. 5 00 Application for leave to sell land, four weeks. : ..> 4 00 Sales of land, etc., per in :li, forty days 6 00 “ “perishable property, per inch, ten days,. 2 00 Application fqr letters of dismission from guardianship, forty days 6 00 Application for letters of dismission from administration, three months. ~ i... 7 50 Establishing lost papers, the full space of tlireo mail this, per inch 7 00 Compelling titles from executors or ad ministrators, ryliere bond lias been given by the deceased, the full space of three mouths* per inch 7 00 Es ray notices. thirty days 3 00 Ru'e for foreclosure of mortgage, four mouths, monthly, per inch 0 00 Rale of insolvent papers, thirty days... 300 Homestead, two weeks. .... 2 0Q 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 to any address every week for three 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-