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WOMAN’S NECKTIES. A Haberdaaher*a Critic!* .a on th. W» Bkg Arrange. 1 h«m. The necktie of the average wqm< n is likely to distress her wale friend* t |der all ciroumrianoes, though the reign o-tko shirt waist has accustomed men to Rs vagaries. There is In pnrtlcuL.r one fashv ion which will be long in gc ting a word of commendation from any map. That is the wearing of the large, fat, ready made plastron neckties which a long time ago went out of fashion for men. “When they were .worn several yeflrs ago,’’ said a man who feels deeply on the subject, “their edges never showed under a waistcoat, and thqy were partly con* cealed. But a woman with one of these scarfs on, with nothing to cover it up, while it flaps in the breeze as she walks, Is a sight to move a man to tears. The fashion has been a godsend to the haber dashers, who as soon as the women began to wear these things had only to unpack the old stock that filled their shelves and sell it to the women. The women bought the ties with avidity, and the result was the painful sight of women wearing old fashioned scarfs intended to be covered partly under a waistcoat. There were ground* fbr hoping that they would disap pear from view when .the winter months came. But the continuance of the shirt waist in a permanent winter form will make the flapping tie a reality for several months to come, and the final removal may not come for a long time yet. Just think of having it continue all next sum mer! ' The only mitigation of the present situation is the fact that in winter women wear jackets over their cloth shirt waists, and that improves the look of the tics so long as the women are out of doors. But inside the house the old neckties still cover two-thirds of their bodies and flap back and forth as they walk. ” There are women who can tie a scarf as well as a mffn, but there aro not many of them. The same quality which makes . them poor judges of the kind of neckties to buy prevents them from tying them Well. Women select a necktie for a man -either because its color seems beautiful to them or its quality good. These consider ations are not at all important in selecting effective neckwear, and a man realizes this when a woman buys him a pink crepe . de chine scarf merely “because the shade of pink is perfectly lovely. In tying their own ties it is an effort after the general effect that they make rather than the well tied scarf. In most cases they wear their tie too long. Their necks are smaller than men’s, but nevertheless they.buy men’s sizes in neckties, which always results in a painful superfluity of scarf. The ready made ties which they wore last summer, so much to the distress of the men who saw them, got their first vogue with wom en because they were already tied. *‘l think that all women had better get ready made ties,” said an up town haber dasher, “because there are too few of them *. who can really arrange a tie properly, al though I will admit there are a few. Any body who doubts this ought to look at the picture of Maude Adams taken in a riding habit and observe the way her flat scarf is tied. John Drew could not do better for himself. Ready made ties must, of course, be shunned by all men who make any pre tense to being well dressed, but they are the best thing for the women. They can not be made to understand how much de pends on the attention to small details, and why a tie looks better when it is a quarter of an inch shorter is something they can never appreciate. The stiffness and necessary primness of a well tied scarf is another thing which never comes into their minds as of any particular impor tance. They will labor over a ribbon bow and tie it half a dozen times if that be necessary to make it meet their ideas. But they never take so much time when it is a man’s tie, because they do not appreciate the differences that little details will make. Made up ties which look realistic and hook in the back suit them better. Nowadays these aro put together so skill fully that nobody would suspect they had not been tied by the wearer. They can be had in ascot scarfs, four-in-hands, and the narrower ties. But I think that some man ought to go along with a wom an even to pick out these. If possible, she will get one that hasn’t the least re semblance to the right kind of tie. Mas culine neckwear, whether it is for herself or somebody else, is one point on which woman’s judgment will go astray if it possibly can.”—New York Sun. Funeral Was Postponed. • He had died with his boots on and his brethren of the pick and the pan were giv ing him a bang up funeral. They had set aside a worthless tract as a cemetery, and now they were about to inter the departed with all the solemnity that a Klondike camp could muster. When the slow paced cortege, the pine . box in its midst, and Alkali Ike and Der ringer Dick at its head, reached the ceme tery on the lope hillside, it was found that Placer Pete, who had just been elected seston, was still deepening the grave. Betting down the honored burden, the crowd surged forward and waited in si lence lor Pete to finish the task. Alkali Ike and Derringer Dick, as chief mourn ers, stepped to the graveside and uttered a few words of encouragement to the pant ing digger. Suddenly Alkali Ike stooped over the pile of dislodged seil. He clutched the arm of Derringer Dick. He muttered a word or two. The head of Placer Pete, wild eyed and staring, appeared above the edge of the excavation. Then the two mourners turned around and faced the crowd. They were pale and excited. "Gen’lemen,” said Alkali. Ike, with difficulty controlling his articulation, “this yer funeral has got to be postponed to some more flttin time and place. The sexton here has just struck pay dirt!” And then the obsequies wound up with a wild yell and a wilder rush. Two days later the ex-cemetery looked like one tremendous grave.—Cleveland Plain Dealer. An Unlucky Helmet. A curious circumstance was connected with Younghusband’s death. After the battle of Cawnpur he had purchased at auction a very smart helmet, which had been the property of Lieutenant Salmond of the Gwalior cavalry, who had been killed at Cawnpur. This helmet a good deal excited my envy and admiration, and as I had not possessed a decent headdress since the mutiny began, I had asked a friend to buy it for me at the auction of Salmond’s effects. But poor Younghus hand outbid me. At his sale I was again outbid, and the helmet fell to the nod of Lieutenant Havelock, a nephew of the general. He, too, was killed wearing it, and rumor subsequently said a fourth officer had bought it and had been killed. It was a strange coincidence, and as these deaths occurred quickly one after the oth er I ceased to wish I had been its possessor. —“Old Memories,” by Sir Hugh Gough. PATTI’S PARROT. Lost From On* Vem.l, it Mad* its Way •o Another. I adventurps of Mme. Patti’s parrot, . F°u k .°’ f< £“ a “Chapter of great perils to himself, disconsolation and tears on the 1 part of his mistress and of curious ooinci • dences touching the bird, owner and the ’ Samaritan of the seas who acts the graoe [ tul part of rescuer. I In 1888 the firm of Abbey, Schoeffel St i Grau, theatrical speculatorsand managers, i Included in their various enterprises a tour with Mme Patti and a strong opera com i pany to Buenos Ayres, Montevideo and i Rio. Marcus Mayer, business manager, 1 went out in advance, and on the Royal Mail steamer Fagtis formed tho acquaint ance of an African parrot whose linguistic abilities elevated him to the distinction of being almost as polyglot as tho accom plished Mr. Mayer himself. Before leav ing England Mme. Patti had commis sioned the agent to procure for her any South American birds of plumage or song that he might meet with, and especially a half dozen of the gayly feathpred but by no means musical macaws for which Bra zil is famous The parrot was not inelpded in any. of tho specifications, but his ready use of Spanish, Portuguese, French and English—a few words at least in all of them—and some ridiculous speech in the dialect of the West India negroes, justified his purchase from tho chief engineer of the Fagus, and when Mme. Patti arrived at the Hotel d’Etranger in Rio Koko was awaiting her in her apartments with the greeting. “Soy Koko—a disposicion a usted. ’’ Amid his more brilliant opmpanions he at first attracted but little attention, but in a few days, possibly having heard his mistress sing, he Evinced his delight in a manner so flattering that ho was raised to tho position of first favorite. At Monte video Scnor Hora, the editor of the news paper KI Expresso, gave Koko a gold col lar inscribed in Spanish with the words: “lam Koko, the polyglot parrot of the Nicolini. I don’t sing myself, but there are angel voices in our family. ” Wearing his collar as usual, Koko was seated on his mistress’ shoulder one morn ing In tho deck saloon of the homeward bound steamship lonic. The lee door of the saloon was open, when some children threw open the one on the windward side and'eome in with a rush that startled the bird from his perch. Unaccustomed to use his wings, he was caught in the cur rent of wind and swept out of the saloon, and, despite his own endeavors, in a mo ment was over the side and adrift in the northeast trades. For half an hour they watched him, until ho became a black speck in the distance aud finally disap peared. This happened in the latter part of August, 1888. The next morning tho sailors of the American bark Lapwing, from Rio to Bal timore, found Koko in the mizzen top ex hausted and speechless, but, under the care of Mrs. Starling, the captain’s wife, he re covered his vigor and voice, and since then until recently has been going up and down the coast. Some months ago, the Lapwing, being at sea on a voyage from the Chinese seas to New York, somewhere south of the cape of Good Hope, met an American whaler, which asked for fresh provisions and news. A boat was sent with the need ed articles, and the whaler in exchange threw it a file of New York Heralds for 1888. They were all thumbed and worn, but Mrs. Starling, turning them carelessly over, caught the headline, “Mme. Patti’s Koko Lost at Sea. ” It formed part of a cable dispatch from London. The corre spondent of that journal, having met Mr. Abbey on his return home, had inquired about the South American tour, and had been told that it was successful, with no greater mishap than the loss of Patti’s favorite parrot Koko, which had been blown off the ship somewhere nqar the equator. Up to this time neither Captain Starling nor his wife knew to whom the bird be longed, for they had not associated the family name, Nicolini, engraved on the bird’s collar with the one by which the great singer is known to tho public. On arriving at New York, they easily learned the whereabouts of the great singer, and, under the charge of a friend of theirs crossing on the Lucania last week Koko finished the interrupted voyage to Eng land and was restored to his delighted mistress—London Letter in Philadelphia Times. Klondike Tremens. The Seattle Times prints this interesting letter from a Klondiker I “Dear Friend—You can surprise the dear people of Casper by telling them that I am worth $75,000, and next summer I will start back to buy the town. Some people will want to kiss me when I get back who wanted to kick me when I left. It is a bad trip up here, but it is worth making if money is what a man wants. It is the only place I ever saw where there is so much money that people don’t seem to care for it. “Wo sit around and talk about good things to cat. That is what everybody is thinking about. If a man gets to talking about fruit, he is put out of the camp. We can’t stand it to hear it talked of. I have dreamed of seeing peaches as big as a car wheel, and they say when a man gets the tremens up here he always sees fruit or fancies that be is pulling radishes or shell ing peas. This is a hard country to a man. It will make a young man look old in two years. “You have heard of the golden calf. Well, I have something that beats that. I have a golden dog. A dog of .mine died, and I have used his hide as a sack for my dust. I have him as full of gold as he was of meat. I sometimes lay my head on his body and dream of what I will do with my ‘dough’ when I get back to the States. “My partner has ten one gallon sirup cans filled with dust. Pneumonia is bad, and many die from it. The scurvy is bad, too, but it don’t kill many, after all. If a man could have what he wanted to eat up here, it would not be so bad. You can dress warm and fight the cold, but it is hard to be hungry everyday and get noth ing to eat but the things you detest. My paper has run out, and there is no more in camp." Society. The whole of society at present is too like a jelly. When it is touched, it shakes from base to summit. As yet the unity is of weakness rather than of strength. The difference of individualities must always exist, and since we are members of one body different gifts are needed to supply the wants of that body. Our aim there fore ought to be not to merge the individ aal in the community, but to strengthen the social life of the community and foster individuality.—Tennyson. . The Only Difference. “ Does monsieur desire a dinner at 1 franc 25 centimes or at 1 franc 00?” * *• \\ hat s the difference between them?" “Thirty-five centimes, monsieur!” — Paris Figaro. HELEN KELLER’S WORK. r ■he Feleed Xeney Wot the E ncatloa as • Boy Afflicted Like H rwlt ! An affecting story is told I r William T. , Ellis in St Nicholas under the title of “Helen Keller and Tomin'* Stringer. ’’ , Mr. Ellis says: A little child lived in black silence. There never was midnight so dense as the ( flarknem that enveloped his mind. Sight and hearing were gone utterly and for . ever. The child knew absolutely nothing, except that sometimes from somewhere I something put, food into his mouth and moved him about when necessary. His [ world was limited by as much of his little crib as he could feel with his hands and , by the touch of this something thpt cared > for his wants Tl)e merest babe knows the sunlight and its mother’s voice and face. Five . years had passed over this little boy as he . lay on his hospital cot, but ho knew less , than a month old infant—less Indeed than the least of the beasts of the field. He was . completely shut up in a living tomb of flesh, with no communication between himself and the great world about him. Yet within that prison was a healthy brain, open to all tho possibilities of life. > Since the terrible sickness that had comfi , to him in infancy, little Tommy Stringer had lain thus among strangers. His ’ mother was dead. His father could not , help him. From his birthplace in Wash , ington, Pa, the helpless sufferer had been removed to a hospital in Alleghany. But no institution wanted this troublesome charge, who would require the constant attrition of a teacher. So the almshouse seemed the only haven for Tommy. There at least he could find a shelter. But it was n > to be so. Light was ahead—the glorious light of knowledge. One who had been similarly shut in by the walls of a triple affliction was to lead Tommy Stringer out into the bright light that she herself enjoyed. It was during the summer of 1890 that the news of Tommy’s sad plight came to Helen Keller. Tho sensitive soul of this 10-year-old girl was deeply affected. She, If no one else, would save the poor boy. Thenceforth Tommy became the burden of Helen’s thought and conversation.. She talked about him to her friends. She wrote letter upon letter asking aid for him. At this time occurred a pathetic in cident that was the means of turning to ward the little blind boy tho kindly inter est and generous gifts that accomplished his rescue. Tho pdt and playmate of Helen when she was at home was a beautiful New foundland dog. Through a foolish blun der, this animal was shot by a policeman. When the news came to Helen, she had no word of reproach, but simply said, with beautiful charity, “I am sure they never could have done It if they had only known what a dear, good dog Lioness was. ” The story of* her love was published . widely, and from far and near—even from across the ocean—came to Helen offdts of money or another dog. The little girl had only one answer to all these kind expres sions. She was grateful, but she did not care for another dog to take the place of Lioness. Nevertheless the gift would be accepted, if the donor so desired, on behalf of a little deaf, dumb and blind boy, for whom she was trying to raise money enough to bring him to Boston to be edu cated. In every direction Helen sent .this mes sage, always in a specially written person al letter that was marked by the sweet simplicity and remarkable ability of the author. For-a long time these letters averaged eight a day, and a marvelously versatile and eloquent little pleader Helen showed herself. • She also wrote for news paper articles addressed to children, as well as general appeals—never any two precisely alike. Helen instituted for her self a rigorous course of self denial (absti nence from soda water and other prized luxuries), that sho might save money for her one great object. The result of all this effort was the securing of sufficient funds to Insure Tommy at least two years of ed ucation at the Kindergarten For the Blind, Jamaica Plain, Mass. Superstitious Songstress. Jessie Bartlett Davis acknowledges to being a little bit superstitious—just a lit tle bit. She tells tho following story to a Boston Herald man of lierttelief in the in fluence of a song: “I believe in luck, yes, and do you know that an old ballad and a favorite one with me has always been the means of bringing me lucky results? The song is a chestnut, but it procured me every good engagement I ever had; it is ‘Sweet Genevieve.’ “I went to see Mr. Davis when he was manager of tho Chicago Church Choir company. I wanted more money than I was getting, and I applied for an engage ment. I sang ‘Sweet Genevieve,’ and got tho part of Little Buttercup. I frequently sang it by request, and Mr. Davis fell in love with the song and married the singer. When the American Opera company was getting into shape, I went to see Theodore Thomas, and when ho said he would like to hear something I knew how to sing I gave him‘Sweet Genevieve.’ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘any girl who can sing a love song like that can sing in American opera, ’ and he engaged me. When I applied for an engagement in the Mapleson Grand Opera company, Mr. Mapleson made an appoint ment for me to meet Mme. Patti, and I gave her ‘Sweet Genevieve.’ She heard me through tho whole song, and applaud ed by clapping my face between her two hands. Mr. Barnabee admitted me to my present position on the strength of the lamented Genevieve, and he pays me the mischievous compliment of getting out his handkerchief every time I sing it. Os course ho only does it to break me up, but I shall sing ‘Sweet Genevieve’ till my voice cracks. ” Leopold and Victoria. The king of the Belgians has the reputa tion of being the gayest monarch in Europe and is consequently regarded with consid erable disfavor by Queen Victoria. On one occasion last spring, however, accord ing to an English exchange, when the king was lunching with her majesty at Clmiez, he revenged himself for the sever ity of his hostess* manner by retailing an anecdote which, although excruciatingly funny, was decidedly improper. The queen preserved her countenance during the rest of tho meal, but it is recorded that during her customary afternoon drive her majesty’s smile was more than usually radiant Where Fine Voices Are Found. Fine voices ore seldom found in a coun try where fish or meat diet prevails. Those Italians who eat the most fish (those of Naples and Genoa) have few fine singers among them. The sweet voices are found in the Irish women of the country and not of the towns. Norway is not a country of singers because they eat too much fish, but Sweden is a country of grain and song. Tho carnivorous birds croak. Grain sating birds sing. —« * . -.'J « KING OF PICKPOCKETS. Death of the Han Who Filched the Puree of the Prince of Wales. Fred 11, king of pickpockets, has just passed away in London. Like hU prede cessor, Fred IT was well known on the turf both in England and in France, and whenever a turfman’s pocketbook was cap tured by any of his majesty’s outposts an audience with the monarch was all that was necessary to secure its prompt return to the lawful owner. People not connect ed with tho turf were less fortunate. The ministers of his majesty performed some marvelous tours do force in their very profitable profession, but not one of them had the delicacy of touch and power of penetration that mode the king famous. One day ho mode a bet that he would pick the pocket of the Prince of Wales. The thing seemed to be absolutely impossible, because many of tho prince’s friends knew Fred very well and the difficulty of get ting close enough to him to capture his pocketbook seemed insurmountable. But it was a simple mutter for the king. He picked tho prince’s pocket and won his bet. The ties of royalty are great and strong. The king returned tho pocketbook to the prince, and the latter, of course, could not think of prosecuting a king. He laughed at tho joke and complimented Fred on his skill as a pickpocket. A pastime that Fred took special delight in was filching the watches and pocket books of magistrates and high officials of the police, and the stories of his exploits in this line are many. He was always dressed in tho latest fashion. He had good taste in the matter of clothes and always avoided everything loud. He was a good looking fellow too. But kings cannot reign forever, and the reign of Fred II ended rather ingloriously. It was ambition that ruined him. He wanted to perform an exploit in the pocket picking line that would eclipse all his previous performances. He determined to relieve Baron Hirsch of the burden of his heavily loaded purse. He approached the philanthropist in his usual courtly way, but unfortunately for the king the baron recognized him immediately. “My dear Fred,” said he, “you have come too late. I have just lost all my money on the favorite. Be good enough to honor me with your attention another day, and bo sure to come before the race. ’’ Fred saluted with great dignity and de parted, and after that began to go down hilt He soon after abdicated and lived a retired life in a little house in one of the suburbs of London. His star had set. Ho became sad and looked back upon the van ities of fat pocketbooks. Little by little he faded and died of a disease which his French doctor called “nostalgie du vol,” or tho rust that in his profession follows rest. Just as in tho case of the funeral of an other king of pickpockets many curiosity seekers attended the funeral of Fred, and upon feeling for their money and jewelry after returning home discovered that they had, in fact, been at a pickpocket’s fu neral Professional fingers had been set working in honor of the dead. A modern Dick Turpin, Fred was good natured, fond of children and generous with the money of other people. His bank account was never overdrawn, and he never had any hesitation about helping a poor fellow out A few shillings or a few pounds to him amounted to nothing. There were always plenty of available pocketbooks to call upon whenever ho was short—New York Sun. Highly Developed Sense of Smelling. Why should it be considered strange that an animal depending on its nose as much as the dog docs should be able to distin guish one scent from another when man kind can do the same to fully as delicate a degree? A friend of mine told me he could lean over a kettle of boiling glue stock (horrible smelling stuff) and distinguish any perfume from any other on a handker chief. Julia Brace (deaf-blind) could as sort the clothing of her fellow pupils after coming from the wash by smelling it Llnnie Haguewood (another deaf-blind girl) knows every dish on the table on coming into the room. James Mitchell (a deaf-blind man who died about 1880) rec ognized his friends by their smell, and even formed his likes or dislikes of stran gers by that means. Tho Rev. M. B. Wynne wrote me that his young brother in-law could always tell whether a rabbit was in its burrow by smelling at the open ing. The deaf blind always display this ex treme delicacy of scenting powers (except, of course, in such cases as Laura Bridge man, Ragnhild Kaata, Willie Caton, etc., where the senses of taste and smell were destroyed by the disease which ruined their sight and hearing), and it would seem that they only appreciate distinctions which those in possession of all their senses neglect. I know that doctors will say that the organ of smell is but vestigial in man, while fully developed in dogs, but no trained man tracking hound ever displayed more delicate * ‘ nose’ ’ than Julia Brace did, and a stubborn fact like that counts strong, regardless of what anatomy says.—Forest and Stream. The Stone Age In British Columbia. When I arrived on this coast in 1854, the Indians generally made and used im plements of stone, such as arrow and spear points, knives, adzes and axes, and continued to make and use them for years after that. The materials they used were chert, jade, a black and gray slate and a dark and gray basalt. I think I may have seen the process of-making these articles'' when I first came hero, but am not cer tain. However, I know pretty well how they were made, at least by the Indians in habiting this island. A black bearskin was spread on tho ground with the hair side down. Then a flake of chert, of jade or of basalt, first roughed out by striking two pieces together, was held on the bear skin between the fingers and chipped into shape with another stone or a bone by gradual pressure. In this way they soon formed very perfect arrowheads, some hav ing points as sharp as a needle. The base of tho weapon was worked out by simple pressure, then inserted in the cleft shaft and securely held in its place with pitch, asphaltum or a glue made of fins of the halibut. The larger spearheads were usually made of slate, split- into flakes, worked out and then rubbed until polished. Their adzes and axes were made of chert, jade or basalt, and were of vari ous shapes and sizes. Some of them were finely finished and polished, while others were rough and ill formed. One class of them were evidently made to be used by holding in the hand, but tho great major ity of them had handles of some descrip tion.—Antiquarian. Food Wrapped In Paper. Articles of food that are damp or juicy should never be left in papers. Paper is merely a compound of rags, glue, Mme and similar substances, with acids and chemicals intermingled, abd when damp isunflt to touch things that are to be aatam i AN OPEN LETTER To MOTHERS. WE ARE ASSERTING IN THE COURTS OUR RIGHT TO THE EXCLUSIVE USE OF THE WORD “CASTORIA,” AND “PITCHER’S CASTORIA,” as our TRADE mark. 7, DR. SAMUEL PITCHER, 0/ ifycuDus, Massachusetts, was the originator of “PITCHER’S CASTORIA,” the same that has borne and does now ever V bear the facsimile signature of wrapper. This is the original “ PITCHER'S CASTORIA which has been used in the homes of the Mothers of America for over thirty years. LOOK CAREFULLY at the wrapper and see that it is the kind you have dHtoays bought on and has the signature of wrap- per. No one has authority from me to use my name ex ■ cept The Centaur Company of which Chas. H. Fletcher is President. /? , March 8,1897. Do Not Be Deceived. Do not endanger the life of your child by accepting a cheap substitute which some druggist may offer yo” (because he makes a few more pennies on it), the in gredients of which even he docs not know. “The Kind You Have Always Bought" BEARS THE FAC-SIMILE SIGNATURE OF Insist on Having • The Kind That Never Faded you. TMK OCNTAUH COMMNY, TT MUAfIAV eYRCST. NSW VOM GET YOTTK— JOB PRINTING DONE A.T The Morning Call Office. I • We have just supplied our Job Office with a complete line oi tttationerv kinds and can get up, on short notice, anything wanted in the way oi LETTER HEADS, BILL HEADS. STATEMENTS, IRGULAR3, ENVELOPES, NOTES, MORTGAGES, PBOGRA ’ J ARDS, FOSTERS’ DODGERS, ’ ETC., Eli We cwy toe jest iue of FNVEJZIFEJ) w : this trad*. An ailraedvt FOST ER cf asy size can be issued on short notice Our prices for work of all kinds will compare favorably with those obtained ras any office In the state. When you want job printing ofjany diuripticn xne cs call Satisfaction guaranteed. ALL WORK DONE With Neatness and Dispatch. Out of town orders will receive prompt attention. . Il J. P. & S B. Sawtell. GtUTRAL OF GEORSIA RAILWAr CO*. •<♦> ♦ Schedule in Effect Jan. 9, 1898.: SoTH NoT 8 ■ M?.. 1 ]F;, n * Daily. Dally. Dally. statiowi.Dally. Daily. Daily 7sO pm 405 pm *7 SO am Ar 7 35pm|UMaia «£pm 447 pm BSB am Lv Joncboro Ar SKSpmuoaaia SUpn, 130 pm SIS am Lv OrtSn Ar 6Upn> srtaia •*«•» • 45pm SOSpm SMamAr Barnrevffle Lv stfprn »Sam »«7.n> ass Ul9am 810 pm 12 OH pm Ar Lv SWpm Ilgam «»a» 78 SO pm 7118 pm Ar MilledgevilleLv 46 »am , „ 130 am 117 pm Ar ’ SUam 32; pm Ar MillenLvlHMam 6»am SSspmAr -August* Lv: 8 20am JaaE 000 am owpm Ar Savannah Lrl >4sam .. i-S •Daily, texoept Bunday. Train for Newnan and Carrollton MavMOrtfln at »'5 am, and 1 jO psr dafiy axrept Sunday. Natarntng. arrives ia GrlSn 530 p m and »Os P m daily except Bunday. For further Information apply to ; • *• J. 6. HAILN. Oen. Paaaenrer Anent. SawuMlkßSt Jk ~ _ w * R. HINTON. Trafflc Nanagwr, „ . A•••• ■ . I