The Griffin daily news and sun. (Griffin, Ga.) 1889-1924, December 31, 1889, Image 4

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Dress the Hair With Ayer’s Heir effect* Vigor. Its clcanll- beneficial on the ecalp, and hating peitnAe commend it for uni- Tenet toilet u»e. It keep* the hair soft •ndsilken, preserves its color, prevents it bom falling, and, if the hair has become treftk or thin, promotes a new growth. ..To restore the original color of my gs, grt iucceee. I cheerfully testify to the Efficacy of this preparation.”—Mrs. P. H. David- „T w as afflicted ‘ some ---- three -----ears years with \ out iv as fr weeks r, and . few the disease in my my scalp Ateanpeared nr^foal and my feev.) hair resuc inmed its oolor.” Church, - ( 8t. Bernice, 8. 8. 8. Sims, Jtv Pastor U. B. ce,Ind. A few years ago I suffered the entire loss of my hair from the effects of tetter. I hoped that after a time nature would repair the loss, hut I waited in vain. Many remedies With such were proof suggested, of merit none, however, as A growth «f hair soon came out all over my head, and grew to be aa soft and heavy as I ever firmly had, sit."- and J. of a natural Mlor, and H. Pratt, Spofford, Texas. Ayer’s Hair Vigor, * turnip BT Dr. J. c. Ayer * Co., Lowell, Mate, • StM by Draggiste and Psrfomcn. Ve rtigo, Headache, Dyspepsia, T eness, Bilious lienee, etc. *edy. Price, 25ct*. SOLD EVERYWHERE. G. H. JOHNSON, SR. Still represents the old Sootkero Mutual Insurance Ca. of Athens, 6a., the cheapest in Geor¬ gia and as good as in the world; THE : GEORGIA : HOME and ethers as good as can be found, as he would not represent other than good ones, and earnestly solicits the patronage of he community. He also repre resents i the th old Washington Life Ins. Co. of <ew Yotk, because his choice of all the Lite Companies, it embodies all ts promises Accident in Society the policy. and The South¬ Na¬ tional the ern Mutual Building and Loan Associ¬ ation, the best Savings Bank for Small investments extant. Call at his office No 16 Hill Street, and investigate. ct H. JOHNSON, SR. oell6d<few4m Mo, Ctaw. FOR SALE. tli strret. 4 half acre vacant Iota on 13th street and Broadway. Beautiful oak and hickory grove. Prettiest building lots in the city. For Sale or to Ren (iritflu FEMALE COLLEGE and lots, all the apparatus, geological cabinets, school henchs, &<\ Htark house. 8 rooms, 1 acre land. Most convenient hoarding house, house in the city. land, Charlton Hill street. 4 acres stables, fruits, _&c. A No. 1 way. theltollhouse house Shelton ! and and at lot, lot, ‘JVt ‘JVi acres. 5 room [house house in in i centre centre ol of Poplar street, One e pfthe pfthe nlc most desirable desirable places p in the city. Titles perfect. house Vll II riglit right lot, in in every e particular. Jossey house” and 7 rooms. Vs acre. Null’s •' S. “ 1 eres. Shores, fih various : sale of 75 lots at Auction L.’JBtmwBTOtoM, Real Estate Agent. gulf S3 SHOE GENTLEMEN. •3 SHOE FOR LADIE8. SHOES. » not stamper Examine W. L. Douglas f 2.00 Shoes tor mtlemen and ladies. FOB SALE Bi SCHEUERMAN & WHITE. CltlFFIN. •an miHBNiSin TteMCklMEll*r. Infenbn mmm *sr ear *ss*. n A 8EW ykau^stury. The cujvalroub df.fknsb Haired of a ,* hku oirl, and w , U t 0amr or [0 ° Prrli!hl ' “»■ W ^n-neau AMOcUu ^, OME, uncle, spin us yarn." “What kind of a yarn?" “A New Year’s yarn, of course. You can’t expect us to be satisfied with anything else on New Year's eve.” •‘Shall l tspi.iv ’„m a New Year’s yum, auntie?” asked the old gentleman of a white haired lady who was knitting by the light on the center table, at the same time giving her a knowing look. “Of course not.” she replied, half frowning and half smiling. “There’s only one thing ever happened to me on New Year’s eve, and I’ve re¬ membered that always.” “Is it a love story?” asked one of the girls. “Well, a kind of one. Bring out sojne nuts and apples, and give us another stick of wood for the fire, and I’ll see what I can make of what happened to meon New Year’s eve, 1851." The old gentleman’s requirements hav¬ ing been attended to, the hoys and girls ranged themselves round the liro and the story was begun. He looked straight at “Auntie" while he told it, evidently en- joying its effect upi«i her more than on the younger listeners. •»*•••• She was the homeliest girl in the school; there can l>e no doubt about that. She was freckled, her hair was red, not a dark shade of red, but fiery. She had struggled with whooping cough, and measles, and scarlet fever, and every other disease that childhood is heir to until slio was little more than skin and bones. There were girls with faces more expressive of disagreeable disposi¬ tions, but for pure homeliness Eeddie would have taken the prize in any hon¬ estly conducted show for ugly girls. Reddio was not her real name, but every one called her Iteddie because her hair was so red. We were all very young children—at least most of us were. I was 14. There was one boy who was still older—Dick McLean. Dick was a natural tormentor. He would abuse the girls as well as the boys. He respected dolls no more than hoops and kites. He would rush into a ring where the boys were playihg mar¬ bles, and pretending not to notice where bo avub treading, ocotici the ixmrifles* with the toe of his boot, or poke his finger through a kite, or let the sawdust out of a doll; and he was so big and Strong that no one dared punish him. 1 was the biggest boy in the school, but in strength I was greatly his inferior, and kept out of his way. One day Reddie was carrying her doll across the playground, a doll with hair as red as her own. Some one had given it her as a reflection on her own fiery locks, but Reddie, never seeing or never noticing the slight, took the red headed little monster into her heart, and nursed it with as much affection as if she had been i real mother. Dick McLean, see¬ ing her with the doll in her arms, its red head standing out over her shoulder, went up behind her with alighted match, and touching the flame to its hair, there was a bright halo around the doll’s head for an instant, and then the cranium was as bald as if the little thing hadn't been in the world long enough to grow even red hair. Reddie, seeing what had hap¬ pened, burst into tears. I was a witness of this bit of ruffian¬ ism, and although at that age I had con¬ siderable contempt for girls in general and the prevailing contempt for Reddie, I was shocked. “It seems to me, Dick^!.-1 said, “I’d take a boy for that sort tf thing if I were you.” like,” he ‘I’ll take you, if you re¬ torted. 1 was sorry I had said anything. I knew if we quarreled 1 should get thrashed. Besides, if I fought about such a wizened little creature as Reddie. the whole school would ridicule me. •I’ll teach you”— added Dick to his previous remark, and he came up to me and struck me. I saw 1 was in for it, and made up tuy mind to take a thrash ing. The children stood around, Reddie among them, with her baldheaded doll in her arms, her own hair making up in illuminating properties for what had been lost by the singeing of the doll’s head. TSiroughout that brief struggle until 1 found myself unable to continue, it seemed to me that there was but one visible thing present, and that was Red- die’s head. ■V it’s only this.” i'Jjped away from Dick and the circle, inwardly planning revenge on Dick McLean before the end of the term. Indeed, I at once told my father I de¬ sired to take boxing lessons, and receiv¬ ing his assent, after three months' secret practice, went up behind my enemy with a lighted match and burned his back hair off up to the crown of his hat. Dick turned like a fury. Hi* uncontrol- able anger and my skill gave me the day, and I left him with the injunction that if he wanted any more hair burn¬ ing jo come to me. . Mormon AooorUb* to r*$«w the tat* conference in Salt Lake City, the "Church of Jmmn Christ o t Latter Day- Saint*” ha* twelve apoetlee, seventy ptoriawba, dere, 8,919 high arietta, 11,803 ei 3,080 prieett, 9,999 teachers, IRfilO deeocM, 119,013 officer* and members and 49,808 children under 8 year* of age —a total Konuon population of 103,911. Count Bernatorff, the Lord Shaftes¬ bury of Germany,wa*converted through Biahop handed Ryle’* tract, “Do Not Be Afraid.” to him in the streets of London in July, 1858 As 1 had eipected, after my defeat on my flr*t encounter, I was set down as champion I of the ugliest girl in the school. did not recover from the beating 1 had received for a w eek. One day as I limped across the play ground Reddie came up to me and poked something at me folded' in a piece of brown paper. The sight of her was alone enough to ruffle me; twit to see her standing by me, shyly, with her hand stretched towards me and something in it. in sight of half a dozen pupils, was too much. “Go ’way,” I said. She didn’t say anything, hut continued to look up at me shyly, as though she knew it was a great presumption for tier to offer me a gift. “What is it?” I asked in no kindly tone. “Something I made for you.” “I don’t want it,” I said, turning away. “Please, Tom,” she said, “won’t you take itT I cast a glance at her; she was evi¬ dently full of some deep feeling. “What have you got?” I queried. “It’s only this.” And site took the paper cover from about it and held it up, cast¬ ing an anxious look at me to see if I ad¬ mired the gift. It was a book mark such aa children make, awl on it, in letters in which many of the Batches were put in orong, was “Tom Erden.” “That’s not my name, you little goose." “Isn’t it spelled right?” “No. It’s I-r-w-i-n.” She looked bo stupefied and woebe¬ gone at her blunder that I pitied her. If wo hadn’t been in view of the Other children, I think I could have spoken a kind word to her. “Won’t you take it, anyway?” she asked ruefully. The quickest way to get rid of her was to accept it. “Yes, I'll keep it. Now run along.” Her face brightened up and I was sur¬ prised at so much expression. If she had not so many freckles and such red hair, and had more flesh on her leones she wouldn’t be so ill looking after iall, I thought As she skipped away she turn¬ ed and gave me a grateful look; such a look as a peasant might give a prince. “YOU SEEM SURPRISED.” That was the last I saw of Reddie at school. The next day she was taken with symptoms which developed into ty¬ phoid fever, and was kept at home. Her absence was a great relief to me, and I wished when she recovered, if she ever should, that she would go to some Other school. Between 14 and 24 years of age there comes a great change. When at 124 1 looked back on my childhood thought how careless I was of the ings of others, I was surprised, must be confessed that what I had in one way I had lost in another, acquired polish and prevarication; learned to say pleasant things to young ladies, and was considered quite an adept in this respect. Besides, I did not scorn to practice petty impositions, to flatter them to gain their favor. I soon became tired of society, Which was unfortunate for my mother and sis¬ ters, for whom I was the only available escort. Still, I was occasionally dragged by them into the gay whirl One Right I had been unwillingly appropriated to escort my sisters to a dancing party. It was Christmas night, 1851. I had given up dancing, and stood looking on with my arms folded. “Tom,” said my sister Mary, coining up to me with her cheeks all aglow— she had just finished a dance—“you look too blase for anything. I want to intro¬ duce you to a young lady.” I tried to beg off. “She’s a beauty, and so unusual a t)eauty,” Mary urged. She put her arm through mine and led me to the girl in question After Introducing me she slipped away. first If ever there was a case of love at sight, it came to meat that moment. The girl was indeed a beauty; a graceful fig¬ ure, fair complexion, eyes a dark liquid brown, hair a soft shade of Titien. Her first remark startled me. “It's a long while since we met, Mr. Irwin.” “It is indeed.” 1 scrutinized her fea¬ tures; I didn't remember to have ever seen her before. “That was a noble act of yours.” 1 was not only surprised, I was amazed. 1 remembered no act of my life that could he called “noble.” “You don't know w hat I'm talking about or who 1 am at ail ” She laughed with keen enjoyment, ' bile I wa# no more enlightened than l*c.fore. “How do you like the shade of my hair?” she asked. “It’s very beautiful.” becotatoff I (poke vexed to a dignified tone I was rith all this quizzing. “I wonder if yon would Istow toe Vy ny old name,” she said. “Try me and see. ” “Reddie.'' , _____ “Upon my word!” beautiful 4^ -s be¬ I looked at the CKtature fore me with ill conrtaOid esfcmish- ment i ’ . “You seem surprised.’ “Yes—at—at the that bringB this meeting.” «l»(Jgjg..jM!«hiy , ffik “At nothing else?” I found silent. no words toAPff. *0 I re¬ mained “You don’t remember my singed doll, I suppose?” remember “1 have reason to especially to that doll. It make* me quite *ora think of it" •'* 5 ; -,¥o« IfcJwnfcd •. cry chivalrously And the book mark l gave you. Yon have treasured it. of course?" “Of course." 8he looked at me Maxctitogly. It was evident that she knew I wae prevaricat- pr tag ' "In dial whole school there wae but one who wa* kind to me,” she aaid, im¬ pressively “Perhaps some of them would be glad to show yo« some attention now.” “Only one was think?” kind. And that one- whorn do you “I can’t toil." “You.” “For heaven's sake. Red"—I stopped short “You fought for me." 1 blushed. I had never considered that I had fought for her, but that I was obliged to fight “I got thrashed.” “The kindness was all the more ac¬ ceptable.” “I was not especially appreciative a lien you offered me your gift” "You fought for me.” There was no one near. We were •landing close together. I felt for her hand and gave it a quick pressure, then dropped whirled it. In another moment she was away in a waltz by a lwndsome fellow with a tawny mustache and blue eyes. After the last dance and we were go¬ ing home, 1 saw her again in her wraps In the hall. - “May I go to sed ybu?" I asked. iCU. “Yea." Then, with her eyea * snapping, she added: "Come and bring t Ibelmok mark. Let me see; I’m engaged aged evi every night for a week. Come New Year’s eve.” “And not without the book mark?” She had just time before the door closed behind her to give me a mischiev¬ ous look, and say, "No." My position was embarrassing. I had permission to call with a book mark and no book -mark to call with. I had no intention whatever of fore¬ going my call for want of a souvenir. Nothing would be more easy than to duplicate the book mark, and as to prac¬ ticing the deception of offering it ns the original, 1 had no qualms of con¬ science whatever, having perpetrated many such sins of far greater enormity. I asked my sister to make a book mark for me, and warned her not to do the work too carefully, imitating the stitches of a child. Armed with what I considered a fair imitation, I called and sent It in with my card. When ehe entered the draw¬ ing room I scrutinized her face to eee if there were any signs of her having dis¬ covered that the token was spurious. She held my card and the book mark in her hand, and aa we seated ourselves she tossed them on td the table. So far as I could discover, she believed the book mark to be genuine. “It is very good of you to have kept that souvenir so long,” she remarked, fixing her beautiful eyes on mine. “Don’t mention it,” I observed, in¬ clining my head deferentially. “How carefully you must have kept it. It’s not the least dingy.” “It was very good of you to give it to me, you know. Then, when a book¬ mark is kept in a book it doesn’t get dingy.” “J never thought of that.” Dear creature. How innocent. Just then I glanced a t the the book mark lvi»q Beside my card on table. It looked as fresli as the card. A girl will swal¬ low anything in shape of a compliment, I thought. “I really think It is more perfect than when I gar e it to you. The spelling is certainly improved. If 1 remember A REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR aright, 1 spelled your name incorrectly.” I glanced again at the book mark Something in her manner caused me to scent danger. Suddenly it broke in upon me like a flash The original had been misspelled. grelt “The n-n-n-ame is written a many ways,” I stammered. “I spelled it E-r-v-e-ri.” “You couldn't have done that.” “0, yes, I did; I remember it perfect¬ ly. Little girls are sensitive. At least 1 was, and I felt your rebuke at my blun¬ der very keenly.” I was wiping the perspiration from my brow. It seemed to me I had never seen $:> stern, so couU'ai|...ous an expression on gny woman's face. “That’s a g-g-good way to spell it," I remarked wildly. She took the book mark and the visit¬ ing card from the table. “You see they agree,” she said. “Isn’t it odd?” “Very odd." "I must have made a mistake.' She concentrated her gaze upon me in what seemed to me one glance of wither¬ ing contempt “You are very much mistaken if you thmk to impose ‘that brand new book¬ mark on me for the one I gave you.” Oh for an earthquake, a cyclone, any¬ thing to change the situation 1 muttered, 1 “How ridiculous!” trying to force a laugh and put a humorous view on it alL” She declined to see anything ludicrous in the act She became more grave, if possible, than ever. I picked up the bookmark and bent my hot face down over it to hide my confusion. I had lost ail presence of mind. My ideas were in a state of chaos. What to say I didn’t know, and didn’t know what I said. “I see," l stammered, “the one you g-gave me was w-w-worked in red hair." * A peal of laughter brought me to my sense*. My discomfiture was complete. I fell back in my chair and covered my face with my bands. “You do that Just like a girt," I beard her cry delightedly. “It's exactly what I did when you left dm that day to the Mfrtinl yard, and I thought about my blunder in spahutg Owy i covered my law with my apron . Presently I mustered courage to at her ’Who made that book autkr she ask¬ ed, resuming a serious eb pratt I on | s > a „ gj gt c|r to KwWb- «j 'What made you do such a thing?” •My admiration for you." “NouMmaeT “ ’There to a tide in the affaire of men,'” i muttered. “ 'which, taken at the flood' “I have admired you." 1 said, humbly, “ever since"— I hesitated. “I was a red beaded little imp.” * “No,” I went on, profiting Iff the lea ■on l bad learned and speaking frankly: “Then, to thoughtless, unreasoning Children you were not attractive.” “Now you are speaking manfully Fleam don't ever attempt I to Impose on me again.” “Indeed, 1 never will, if you will for¬ give me for this." “You are forgiven." she said, kindly. “But you haven't told me when this admiration for me bloomed.” “When I’ met you on Christmas night at the dancing party." “In other words, you have admired me for a whole week " I looked at her frankly, honestly, and meant every word 1 spoke when I re¬ plied; “In those three days have been crowded-enengh admiration to offset ten yeara^rf indifference.” ied and lowered her eyes, not been only admiration," 1 went bn. “For three whole days I have been madly in love with you.” She leaned back in her chair and drew a long, long sigh. “You know that I speak the truth.” “By your past record?" “No, by my sincerity. You can see it In every feature; my voice, my eyea, my whole being." She sat with her eyes fixed on a spot to the carpet, occasionally raising them to mine as though wondering whether 1 was worthy of credence. “1 don't believe a word you say.” But I saw that the tide had turned; that she was wavering. My want of reputation with her for truthfulness was certainly a great barrier to the way of my convincing her of my sincerity, but l <Hd not despair, for I knew that what I said waa only too true. For half an hour I continued the attack, she parry¬ ing every thrust, and continually re¬ minding me of my recent deception; but the quickest way to convince to to be really in earnest, and this gave me the victory. “It's so sadden,” she said. “We have loved each other for a week,” I urged. “Yours may have been since then, mine”- “Yours?” "Has lasted ever since you fought for me." Then I knew why I had won so sudden a victory. Before I took my leave that evening 1 caught sight of a reflection in the mir¬ ror. What do you suppose it was? It was Reddie and I, she lovingly resting to my arms, with her head on my shoul¬ der, her bank to the mirror, I with my face toward it “Ah,” I said to myself, not even speaking the words in a whisper—my L Him werftton tu*a» hw “l» 4 hg > the generosity and gratitude of that freckled, red headed child you spurned ten years ago, that you are not getting your just deserts now.” • s s • * • “Why uncle,” said a lass of 17, “I didn’t know you were that kind of a young man ever.” “Why didn’t you marry Reddie?” asked another. “Perhaps she* resumed her common sense and thought better of it after all,” said the white haired lady at the center table, her head bent down low ova- her work. “Pshaw,” said a matter of fact girl of 10. “I know who Reddie was.” “Who?” asked a chorus of voices “Auntie.” "How could that be, you little goose,” said her uncle, “when auntie has white hair and Rcddie's was red?" “He’s made most of it out of whole doth," said the old lady. “That about the mirror is ridiculous. If I had sup¬ posed he’d talk about such things I wouldn’t”- The old lady stopped short, and the boys and girls all burst into a laugh. F A. Mitchel Jewels and Laces. ‘Oh, giH with the jewelled Anger*. Oh, mail] with the laces rare I” What are your jewels and You what would are your laces worth to you? give them all if you could get back your health. Well you can and you can keep your jewels and your laces too. Thousands of women know Pierce’s by happy experience that I)r. Favorite Prescription restores the health. It is a positive remedy for those derangements, irregularities and weaknesses so common to wo¬ man. In fact it is the only medicine for women Aold by druggists,under from the a positive facturers, guarantee, that it will give satisfaction manu¬ in every case, or money will be re¬ funded. This guarantee has been printed on the bottle-wrapper, and carried out for many pears. A* Valuable Remedy. A letter from S. P. Wardwell, Itos ton. says : “I used Clarke’s Extract of Flax (Papillbn) Catarrh Cure in June last for Hay Fever with great satisfaction, and find it is the only thing I have seen which would allay, without irritating, tb# infiamation of the nostrils ana t hroat. Its sooth¬ ing and and healing immediate.” properties Large were marked bottle f 1.00. Clarke’s Flax Soap is the latest and best. Try it. 25ct«. Ask for them at Dr. N. B DrewrWs Drugstore |B _ _ pyufto and Indigestion in its worst form are cured by the use of P. P. P. If you are debilitated and run down, or if you need a tonic to regain flesh and iost appetite, strength and vigor, take p. p. p. atul you will be strong and hpaltby. For shattered coasti- tions and‘lost manhood p. p. p. (Prickly Ash, Poke Root and Potaa- glum) if* tbe king of all medicine*. P. P. P. is the greatest blood puri¬ all fier in the world. For sale by druggists._ ’ . , Uppasa'i PjnNtt is a tonic and an appetiser and a snb- perb core for chills and fever, dumb ague and malaria, as tboosands will tNrtifv. aimb. JBsrdirtre, a*!* yum wtrnmr 8toT *»VnHV tool*, Tinware, Sport in* vf# tin «»fMH r F0R THE SEAS0I We have the largest, best Lion. We nre sole agents for the celebrated Ir / : f, Farmer Girl and Champion Monitor Cools: :Stoves And TH1HTY YK vl.K KX I'KItlksTE hat shown us that they am the beat ever sold in this market. 6l8 REDUCTION We are the recognized leaders for 0 f • TINWARE. TIN WORE AND REPAIRING, Of every description. To those to need of LEATHER OR RUBBER BELTING We can offer auWior inducements. We are agents for King Powder Co.’* Powder, The HUNT in the f i*a» i wo t offer big inducements to both the w hole sale and retail traded Henry C. Burr ^ Bro. Builders’Hardware a Specialty. . ■ ... ................ff" 1 ................... REMEMBER, THE BED MB HELM ILI M. KEEP THE BEST OF ALL KINDS OF STAPLE AND (FANCY GROCERIES. Our Sweet Water Pat. and Tetioa flourrcannot beat. Dent brands of Hams, Shoulders ond Breakfuet Bacon. AH kinds of Canned Goods cheap «f as any one. Fresh lot Mackerel and White Fish. The grades mmrl.io Sullivan’s till! 4T«v»lfi Tlr,Kn Tobacco. Artn Water 4^.*. flaMMuJ Ground Meal \f f ** a Specialty. Y’egetabies ™ Fruit., Fancy find Stick Cwndy. FRESH FISH EVERY SATURDAY. -Sfi* PRICES DOWN nr- 1 We offer this morning everything in our store st Drummer*8 Sample Shoes AT WHOLESALE COST. .... at t We less less have than than 100 co*t- cost- pair* Ail of styles Ladies' at $ Kid i 00 luttofl to $2J0 Shoe* which pair, we worth pr|p|lf|» from $1 i to $3.50 pair. Give call and per per ns a wo IWILL SAVE I YOU MONEY. M Griffin, Nov. 23rd. FARMERS’ CO-OPER HAVING MADE MONEY We Want C AT HIGHEST MASK WE WANT EMPTY KE^ WE want crokerAn We Want to .Sell the Best 1ST Call at OIL MILL. W.E.11. BOOTS, SHOES AND LEATHER AT -HILL 2 2 NT, HASSEi kUS’ SHOE STORE Home-made Shoes and Leather a Specialty „ ; Vie warrant all work ami itWI nmk<- H a point to njbfifj.rrwnt aekoot mrttiie. J«Strtcetred a larve - shipment * ol «—■*“’ Gents’ ami Ladkw' ’ and -”4 Man**' In.*oO,l*. and shore («Children and Hlinper* of aH kind*. per <N>rd paid lor 200 fords of Tan-bark. H. W, HAS8ELKP8 TO TH^PSOAPrl T II E ,-H! IJ ---★ HAVE MOVED Tllfcffe 8 T 0 CK SASH, DOORS AND U NOS To No. 16 HIllSMcNl Johnson’s oHiStand)! Where All Sizes Sash. Doors. Blinds. M will be be on op .alt at lowret nstrt |,ri.— n^'tr |li pkste line of j|h| Builders 1 Hardware, v . .N. ■ • ' .-sAi and will have%<#h* toirnM j*f ?f3Sg|of BfoidinggHfelbe ehenfWtJto the finest at i ; I you want. ATOaU E MARUFAfTl RIM; CO.