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THE HENRY COUNTY WEEKLY
VOL. XVII.
Pit OFESS iOXA L CA It DS.
jjK. ii. I». CAMPMDIJ,
DENTI ST,
McDoNOIfJH (iA.
Anv one desiring work done can «>c ac
commodated either by calling on me in per
son or addressing me through the mails.
Terms cash, unless special arrangements
are otherwise made.
Geo W. Bryan j W.T. Dicken.
BRYA.K & DM IiHV
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
McDonough, Ga.
Will practice in the counties composing j
the Flint Judicial Circuit, the Supreme Court
of Georgia and the United States District
Court. apr'27-ly
jx .1. KIiAGAA,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
McDonough, Ga.
Will practice in all the Courts of Georgia
Special attention given to commercial and
othercollections. Will attend all the Courts
at Hampton regularly. Office upstairs over
Thk Wkkkly olßce.
•yy A. 15 SCOW'S,
* ATTORNEY AT LAW,
McDonough, Ga.
Will practice in all the counties compos
ing the Flint Circuit, the Supreme Court of
Georgia and the United States District
Court. janl-ly
J j A. IMIIII'I.IS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Hampton, Ga,
Will practice in all the counties composing
the Flint Judicial Circuit, the Supreme Court
of Georgia and the District Court of the
United States. Special and prompt atten
tion given to Collections, Oct 8, 1888
Jno. D. Stewart. j R.T. Daniel.
STEW'AItX & UANIKL,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Griekin, Ga.
j OH A 1.. TIE.
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Gate City Natioal Bank Building,
Atlanta, Ga,
Practices in the State and Federal Courts,
Jjl F. WEEMS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Fayetteville, Ga.
Will practice in all the State and Feder
al courts. Collections a specialty and
prompt attention given to ail Business en
trusted to me.
THE
East Toil Virginia & Ga.
R’Y.
IS TIIE ONLY
SHORT AND DIRECT LINE
TO TIIE
NORTH, SOUTH,
EAST AND WEST.
PULLMAN'S FINEST VES
TIBULE SLEEPERS
BETWEEN
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MACON & CHATTANOOGA
BRUNSWICK & ATLANTA
WIXIIOCX (II .(Mali,
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tanooga with Through
TRAINS AND PULLMAN SLEEP
ERS TO
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at linowilic -with Fullmnn
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FOR FURXnER INFORMATION ADDRESS,
B.W.WRESN, CHAS. N. KICHT
Gen’l. Pass. Ag!-., A. G. P. A.
KNOXVILLE. ATLANTA
Cieorgiu .TJitllaml »V <»ull' EC. IS.
SOI'TH.
Leave McDonough 7:00 a. m.
Arrive Greenwood 7/47 “
“ Louella 7:45 “
“ Griffin 8:05 “
NORTH.
Leave Griffin 4:00 p. m.
Arrive Louella 4:40 “
“ Greenwood 4:48 “
“ McDonough 5:05 “
M. E GRAT, Sup’t.
FTT I pL'|J If cures scratch on
l\ 1 lili'U r.riJl horses, mange on
dogs with one or two applications. For
sale by D. J. Sanders.
m ©va ■m f m dr. taft*s abtrkalene
AO I Bilan rt--AS|DCn ’er fell., .endusyout
» i.'.reis, »e will rn-ili trill VUnEIII ITUeDCE
THE OB. TAFT BROS. M. CO., ROCHES TER, H. I. ■ K6E
Written for The Weekly.
THU DRUNKARD’S WIFE.
On as idenl summer evening,
In the gathering gloom of night,
Peeped fair Lunar o’er the hill tops,
On a most bewitching sight.
In the misty vail of twilight,
Stood a maiden young and fair;
She was waiting for her lover.
Who had pledged to meet her there.
One would know it by the love-light
That was shining in her eyes ;
Which, in their effulgent brightness,
Glowed like stars in azure skies.
Ah ! but why those nervous fancies,
Like a timid, frightened deer 1
Ever casting hurried glances,
Lest some spy be lurking near ?
Could it be that this fair lassie,
Full of youthful joy and hope,
Was preparing on this evening
With a drunkard to elope ?
“I can’t see,” she had been musing,
As she stood there, o’er and o’er,
“Why my parents can object so,
When he says he’ll drink no more.”
“True he’s often broke his promise
That he would abstain from drink ; -
But ’twas due to bad associates ;
When we wed he’ll quit, I think.”
Ah ! but soon there comes a foot-step
As a well known form draws near ;
And a cautious voice whispers,
“Bessie, darling, are you here ?”
How that beating heart does flutter
As the kisses touch her brow ;
How those red lips fain would utter,
“Thanks to God, he’s sober now.”
Oh, how eloquent the pleadings,
As he begs her, o’er and o’er,
Not to heed the old folks’ counsel—
Be his own forevermore.
One brief struggle—love has conquered—
She will share his wayward life ,
And she quits her home forever
To become, a drunkard’s wife,
* * * * * * * *
On a bitter winter evening,
When the earth with snow was white,
Peeped fair Luna through the window
On a most pathetic sight.
What a contrast to the scene which
She had gazed on once before 1
Oh, what changes time had wrought
Since only two short years ago !
Shivering o’er the dying embers,
Knelt a woman, worn with care ;
Surely Time, when gliding onward,
Paused to leave his touches there.
Oh, the weary, tedious waiting !
Would her cruel husband stay
Down at the defiling drink-house
’Til another bitter day ?
Would he leave her there to perish,
From the chill, benumbing cold ?
One he’d vowed to love and cherish,
’Til his hands in death should fold.
Oh, the bitter, bitter yearnings !
As the bells of memory chime
Thoughts that will come up unbidden
Of her happy girlhood time.
Of the halcyon days of courting,
When he won her trusting heart ;
Only won that heart to break it
When from friends she was apart.
O’er her thoughts there comes con
fusion ;
Slowly droops Ihc golden head,
Freed forever from delusion,
For the drunkard’s wife is dead.
**** * * * *
Heedless maidens, pray take warning,
Ere ’tis evermore too late.
Do not in life’s golden morning
With a drunkard link your fate.
Lovejov, Ga. Cleo.
“That Poor Stick.”
It was when they were homeward
bound, in mid-Atlantic, that Mary Deu
; uing first began to doubt. She had been
so happy in her love, for ever since
childhood Maj. Herbert Kuox had
been her hero. His ten years’
seniority had only served to shield
him from the criticism of com
pauionship. Her judgment was just
nurtured by tnference, not by knowl
edge, and the major’s gallant bearing
had been an agreeable stimulant. So,
when he bad met the Dennings in
Switzerland, and one night when the
lake was proudly saying, “See the
moon is here, where my love should be
within my throbbing bosom,” and the
outline of the Matterhorn against the
horizon was like a monolith to truth,
Mary’s heart had leaped a mighty amen
to the “yes” that her tremulous lips
had lisped as the major had pressed her
to him, and had told in his simple,
manly way how futile life was to him
without her, and how he had followed
her from their distant home to confess
his need. Joyous indeed had been 1
Mary, when the mext morning, at the
breakfast table, her father through one
of h ; s millstone jokes had revealed the
truth to their party. And when Joe
Palmer, after having coughed violently
and upset his coffee, had shambled has
| tily from the room, she had laughed
with the others it the major’s remark
i that Joe’s mother had shown more faith
McDonough, ga., Friday. December o, 1802.
than prudence in at length loosing her
apron strings.
And Joe Palmer had rushed up to -
his quarters and behind bolted doors
had stamped up and down the floor in
a rage which found no expression until
he had paused before the pier glass and
had studied his tall, angular, uncouth
form, his long white face, with fierce
eyes, contrasting comically with sen
sitive lips, his shirt front bedabbled, and
his clothing so evidently iutended for
some other man, and then he too had
laughed. Not a very plesaut laugh,
either, for a young man to utter who
possessed health and intelligence, and
whose welfare was the only and cons
tant solicitude of a widowed mother.
Yet it was this very concern which Joe
now blamed as he looked back over
his life. He knew that it had been a
perennial jest among his neighbors and
friends, that it]had deprived him of the
harsh discipline which makes boys man
ly, and bad gained for him the name of
a mollycoddle. He remembered that
while Herbert Kuox had dashed by on
horseback he liad been trundled by his
nurse; that even while little Mary
Denning had climbed fences and trees
and had gathered flowers through the
fields he had not dared to stray from the
graveled walk. He realized that while
those who should have been his com
rades had grown up with purposes and
responsibilities which breed self-reli
ance, he had been tended even unto
early manhood within the hothouse of
maternal anxiety. Was it a wonder
that when shame had released him he
should seem different from other young
men, he who had never run a race, nor
played ball, nor fought a quarrel to a
bloody end ? Was it a wonder that he
was strange and diffident and awkward,
when the only ways that he had been
taught were those ways that every one,
including himself, despised ?
Was it, indeed, any wonder that his
thrifty, energetic townspeople, finding
him so unlike themselves, should rele
gate him to the limbo of ne’er-do-wells
under the sufficient accusation of being a
poor stick ? They little knew that he
had darling purposes, ambitious buried,
hut buried in his heart; that he longed
to be an influential, powerful man
among men, commanding respect, forc
ing compliance with his views. They
little knew that he dreamed of a home
which should be the happiest home in
all Aberdeen, since the queen of its
women should there reign. They
deemed him a hunk of a boy, the spolied
child of a doting mother, who, if he
devloped acuteness enough to take
of the wealth which surely would be his,
would surpass kindly interest.
An unhappy life, filled with reveries
that never were realized, with regrets
that always had a cause. How could
he hope, how could he act, when every
thing he said and did rusulted in a fear ?
And yet he had believed that Mary
Denning knew him, was able to discern
intention in awkwardness, and beneath
uucouthness to see a tender, sympa
thetic heart. And so when she had
gone over to Europe with her people
he had overcome the tearful importuni
ties of his mother, finding shame in so
facile a victory, and bad joined their
party in Switzerland, being tolerated,
so he felt, as a harmless creature, out of
respect for old-time intimacies.
Alas for the wild hopes of the jour
ney thither ! On his arrival he found
Maj. Herbert Knox in full possession
of the field. What was there for him
to do except to accept the inevitable
and take his place as a canny follower
in the presence of such a conqueror ?
For the major had always been the
beau ideal of impossibilities to poor
Joe. Handsome, athletic, graceful, his
bearing merited the title which local
militia had given him. A fine, manly
appearing fellow, truly, carrying his
straight six feet of brawn and sinew as
deftly as a court page ; affable, yet dig
nified, approachable, yet asking a “qui
viva ?” through his earnest gray eyes,
which the firm lines of his mouth warn
ed all to answer.
And so Joe had clung to the Den
nings in miserable uncertainty, which
he knew to be all too certain, until the
blow had fallen, and then he had cough
ed and sputtered coffee and stumbled to
! his room to continue the laugh at him
' self. His life was ended. No one
1 cared for him nor believed in him,
except his mother, and alas! it was the
image of her own credulity that she
worshipped. Poor woman ! She had
meant to be so good to him. The least
he could do was to return to her, and
since she found her chiefest delight in
petting, to let her pet in defiance of all
banter. Others who were composed
and gallant, to whom an emergency was
a triumph, not an aftermath of self
reproach, might aspire- to the nobility
of word or deed ; what concern could
one have with such station whose beard
was scraggy aud whose left foot turned
in when walking ?
Joe therefore, decided that he would
relurn with the triumphant Dennings.
Even if Mary could never he his, it
was far more comfortable to he miser
able in her presence than away from
her, and whether he inopportunely
groaned or guffawed it was all one to
them ;he was only Joe, and they dis
covered complacency iu his endurance.
Perhaps they never noticed it, for
he himself was unaware of it; but Joe’s
thoughtfulness rounded many of the
sharp edges of travel for them. Ho
was an accomplished linguist—he must
needs have learned something in his
idleness—and then, of course, he wasn’t
sought after as the major was by all
the young tourists whom they met, and
so he had abundant time to manage
well enough a thousand and one details
which the major could bavo managed
exceedingly well. Once, indeed Mr.
Denning did annouuce that “if Joe
wasn’t Joe there really might be some
thing in the fellow but this was after
Mr. Denning had dined unto repletion
and his condescension was expansive.
Only Mary, in the midst of her joy,
would sometimes feel a reasonless
remorse as she glanced at Joe, and this
would engender a brief gentleness to
ward him, brief, since its reception
would be so grotesque.
The party found that the steamer on
which they were to 'sail, w’orfid ho un
usually crowded; the steerago
was swarming with ithe detritus
of the continent; the cabins were
crowded with pleasure seekers
who had exhausted their purpose.
This press could not hadk affected the
Dennings, for their roqhis had been
held for them, but their friends, the
Grangers, a young couple with a little
daughter, were not so fortunate, and
yet affairs at home urged iheir depart
ure. So Mary willingjy welcomed
Grace Granger as a room mate, while
Joe accommodated her pa&nts by bunk
ing with the major, much to the latter’s
displeasure, had not his weotheart’s
smiles been a nassuaging reward.
And so the great ship failed
on its way, a microcosm with
penury and filth next door to
wealth aud luxury, yet ignored
because they were unseen. Rut such
disagreeable neighbors sometimes com
pel a recognition of their proximity,
and when this occurred, as it did in
mid ocean, then it was that Mary began
to doubt.
The ship was an old one and inoiiffi
ciently manned. There had been con
stant complainings from the first-class
passengers, who, as such, could not
realize when they were well off. Rut
one morning terror revealed to them
the pettiness of their woes.
It was the major who first heard the
news. He was enjoying an early stroll
and cigar as was his wont, when an
officer with whom he had become
friendly beckoned him mysteriously
aside and said:
“We don’t want it generally known,
and that’s why I tell you. A man of
your presence and nerve can be most
useful in promoting cheerfuluess. The
cholera has broken out in the steerage.”
The cholera! That greenish livid
specter of agony and sudden death.
The major took three or four vigorous
pulls on his cigar, and then threw it
away. Somehow his stomach was not
quite right for smoking. He turned
savagely on his informant.
“What kind of a d—d company is
this of yours ?” he shouted. “First
you treat your passengers like dogs and
then you introduce the plague among
them. It’s outrageous, and if there’s a
law that can reach your people they
shall suffer for it. The cholera iu this
dirty crowded bulk ”
“Sh! Sh! Sh !” interrupted the
officer anxiously. “Not so loud. We
must keep it secret. Fear is worse
than contagion.”
“Don’t tell me,” snapped the major.
“Even the condemned are given a few
moments’ preparation. The passengers
should protect themselves by concerted
action ; and it won’t be my fault if they
don’t. The cholera. My God, how
badly I feel!”
Shaking off the restraining grasp the
major rushed into the smoking room.
It was vacant, for breakfast had not
yet been served. As quickly as service
could fetch them he gulped three long
drinks of brandy and then the compla
cent smile which had strayed returned
to Ins face. He even lighted auother
I cigar. After all it might tie false alarm.
And in any event it 3urely would i.ot
touhle a man like him. Direct contact
might he dangerous indeed; but he
would guard against that. Doubtless a
lot of cattle like the people in the steer
age might breed a pestilence, but he
who was so clean, so wholesome, such
a believer in tho virtues of air and
water, O, no ! And yet, disease was
I no respecter of pesrons ; suppose that it
j should come to him 'i It was so fatal,
[so instantaneously fatal! Why, beforo
a man could think, ho was seized, he
1 was gone ! A foul, loathsome death.
Ugh ! It was like being smothered in
filth. Then overboard, in a sack, to
float suspended in tho cold, sullen
depths. 0. no ! a man had no earthly
: show ; if he had like storming a ram
part or dashing on horseback with a
message to the front, why, then the
major would be there. Rut now “sauve
que peut” was good enough for him.
Let fool Baud women do the encoura
ging, he should look out for number one.
Strong men were always favorite marks
—here the major throws away his cigar.
He had had a tendency even as a boy.
O, to think of this horrible ship and its
horrible freight! If one could only
escape—hero the major walked up and
down the floor and rang for another
“go.” And at this juncture Joe
Palmer entered. Ah, how scared Joe
would be when he heard that avvful
tidings! Even in his anguish the
major smiled.
“0, Joe!” he exclaimed, “we’re
done for, we are doomed ! The cholera
is aboard. The steerage people are
dying like poisoned rats in a hole.”
“Cholera?” said Joe. “That’s bad.
Hum! Aren’t you coming to break
fast ?”
“Breakfast! You fool. Can’t you
realize the position you’re m ? We
are doomed, I toll you. You, I, old
Denning, Mary, everybody! And you
talk about breakfast! Don’t you know
that the food is surely infected ? Tho
only thing to do is to keep by one’s
self and drink lots of brandy. Will you
try a ball ?”
“Thank you, no,” replied Joe simply.
“I never driuk in the morning, it makes
me nervous. Of course I realize that
the situation is most critical and I know
that we agree as to how it must be met.
Ignorance is the only salvation for all
these delicate, excitable people. The
disease can be confined to the steerage,
1 am sure, ami no one will ho the wiser
except you and me, and we can stand it
hev, major? Those poor devils, I
wish I could help them, but we must
be selfish for Mary’s sake.”
“I shall warn every one.”
“Don’t be a coward, major.”
“Coward! If we were ashore I
would make you eat that word. Just
wait ”
Rut Joe had turned on his heel and
hastened away. A great light had
hurst over his mind dispelling a boyish
phantasy. Thenceforward he respect
ed himself.
Unluckily, however, on his departure,
other passengers entered the room, and
to these tho major detailed the ominous
news. It scattered like sparks through
out the ship, and sobs and pale faces
and curses attested its havoc.
The captain, accompanied by Joe,
interrupted the major’s wild harangue.
“So,” began the officer, “you have play
ed a manly part, haven’t you? Direct
ly I heard of your intention, sir, I was
going to lock you in your state
room.”
“Don’t you attempt to bully me!”
retorted the major. “I know tny rights
and my duties. You sha’n’t poison us
unawares while I’m on guard. Dome,
boys, another round of that preven
tive.”
Some of the company applauded,
but others turned away with disgust,
and to these the captain and Joe pre
sented the course of cool, deliberate
action so forcibly that under their co
operation the reign of order was in a
degree restored. 15ut the major re
mained pot valiant in the smoking
room, and if his absence was remarked
■one faithful heart at least, amid bewil
dering doubts, strove to find ex
I cuses.
The next morn'ng, when Joe arrived
on deck, there was the major, exhilara
ted and beaming, laying down precepts
to an admiring coterie.
“Hullo, old sour cheeks,” he shout
ed. “You look like the personification
of our good guest. Come, don’t he
dowu-hearti'd, man, brace up and show
some nerve. What if life be short, if
it shall only be jolly.”
“I can’t keep my thoughts from
those sufferers below,” said Joe, grave
ly. “Think of the horrors of that
black hole. At best ”
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Here an understeward approached,
handed a note to tho major, and re
tired. Tho major glanced at its super
scription and smiled resiguedly. Ho
opened it. The smile vanished. Tho
note floated to the deck.
“Damn it!” he cried. “It’s infected.
Look out.”
The group scattered, but Joe picked
up the offending missive.
“What is it ?” ho asked.
“Read it,” said the major from his
retreat by the rail. And Joe read as
follows:
Darling —Little Grace is very sick—and
I fear. She has played between decks, you
know. 1 shall stay by the poor child, of
course. Take care of your dear self. Yours
Mary,
“What are you going to do?” Joe
demanded, drawing near.
“Keep that thing away from mo.
I’m going to wash my hands with vin
egar as soon as I can.”
“I shall go to her.”
“Don’t come back to my room.”
“Don’t tremble; 1 won’t.”
Joe rapped on tho door of Mary’s
state room. “Yes, Herbert,” came the
answer, and through tho crack appear
ed the girl’s bright, rapturous face.
“0, it’s only you!” she exclaimed,
and the anxiety returned.
“I came to offer my help,” said Joe.
“Aud tho major sends his dearest
love.”
“Why didn’t he come himself ?”
“What’s this, young man, what aro
you doing here ?” rasped a gruff voice,
and Joe, turning, confronted the ship’s
doctor.
“I wanted to be of some use,” lie
faltered.
“Yes, and you have made a bad
matter worse. I was about to seques
trate these two young people, and now
I’ve got you on my hands, too. ft’s
enough to drive a man wild. There’s
no system, no discipline; I have no
nurses, no appliances. ’The disease is
spreading, and here you blunder ”
“0, but you can depend on me, he
lieve me. Let mo carry the little girl.
She was always fond of me.”
Through the saloon, which was very
clear before them, hastened the three,
the stricken child close to Joe’s heart,
her tiny arms clasped about his neck
Poor simple Joe ! I low the major
would have laughed had ho known his
delight from that confiding embrace.
When they reached the remote room
Joe laid his charge on the couch, and
saying, “I’ll forage for comforts,”
hurried away, and soon returned heavily
laden. And Mary watched him with
eyes heavy with regretful knowledge.
“Come, my fine fellow, what shall
I do with you ?" asked the doctor,
without the suspicion of a rasp.
“0, you can’t discharge me,” replied
Joe, lightly. “I’m going with you into
the steerage.”
“Rut ” expostulated Mary.
“There aro no ‘buts,’ my dear. After
al 1 , what difference c.ui it make?”
What difference, inleed, to poor Joe
who welcomed this cataclysm as a re
fuge from despair; yet, ah ! what a
difference to the writhing wretches be
low, who found hope iu those fierce
black eyes and courage from the light
of that long white face, and who wel
comed that uneven step as the glide of
a ministering angel. What a difference,
indeed, did his constant brotherly so
licitude make to Mary in her extremity
a difference bitter in its very tender
ness from tho contrast which i
found !
And the great ship sped toward lrn
home, which was to prove a rampart
armed agaiust her; and denser and
more noxious grew the cloud that en
compassed her. The major boasted or
wailed as the stimulaut waxed or waned
The Dennings and the Grangers pray
ed for their children even while de
spairing of their own safety. And
night after night the following billows
, shrank back from the ghastly jetsam
that plunged through their foam.
Ah, hitter is that frost which just
precedes fruition! When port was
gained and safety within arm’s reach
then the stern veto of quarantine caus
ed even the resolute to blanch and
quake. To the major the inhibition
was the cut of the scissors of fate. It
5 CENTS A COPY.
was late one night that a stalwart form
slipped over the rail of the steamship
and stealthily dropped into the chilly
waters of the bay. The slues were
heavy, the east wind was rising, the
tide was tumultuous and adverse ; yet
with desperate energy the swimmer
maintained a dogged advance toward
tho shore. That grim, gray light
which spreads beforo sunrise was
touching the face of the earth with a
corpse like hue when he rested ex
hausted on the beach. For a moment
only. Tho rude seafaring inhabitants
wore alert against such fugitives. Their
pickets espied and seized him. Under
guard and followed by a rabble of the
! misguided and the vicious whom panic
always joins as allies, he was led to
the wharf to ho returned to tho steam
er. To he returned to that haunt of
pestilence ! As soon as tho prisoner
perceived his fate there was a struggle,
a blow, a dash for freedom, and ho was
Hying over the dunes with the howling
pack behind him. lie was gaining, his
escape was certain, when there was a
shot, a stagger, a fall. Then silence
and solitude, save for the twittering
whirlings of sharp eyed birds, and
Maj. Herbert Knox lay with his face to
the break of day at poace from that
| terror of which he was a victim.
Disaster moves not in circles; its
paths have well defined ends. At
length the ships were released, the
dead buried, tho convalescent discharg
ed. The great hospitals were vacant,
hut iu tho doctor’s quarters an anxious
little knot was watching by a bedside.
Unscratcbed by cholera, Palmer
had yielded to exhaustion, and now
was wasting under a low, lingering
fever.
“It’s not that he must die," said the
ship’s physician with a tremor, not a
rasp, “but he doesn’t seem to care to
livo.”
With a sob, Mary Denning knelt by
the cot. “It does make a difference
dear,” she whispered, and she kissed
the sensitive lips. The fierce black
eyr-s opened, and in them she read tho
joyous return of life.
He Had a Future.
Down in Caroudolet there lives a
little Fauntleroy boy whose common,
everyday name is Jimmie. The other
night a neighbor hoy gave a party, at
which there were the usual amount of
confections, fruits and nuts. ’Jimmie
partook bountifully, enjoyed the eve
ning immensely and wont home with
his pocket lined. Next morning Jim
mie, on his way to school, rang the
door-hell of the host of tho night pre
vious, and the mother answered the
ring in person.
“Well, Jimmie, what is it ?” she
asked kindly.
“Why, Mrs. Johnson,” he answered,
“when I was hero last night I left an
j orange with a little bit of a piece ate
j out of it, and I just thought I’d como
and get it,”
Mrs. Johnson smiled as she said :
“Well, come in, Jimmie, and I’ll see
if we can find it."
The good woman niado quite a search,
while Jimmie swung his hat nervously
to and fro. Finally he said ;
“I guess maybe it’s gone. Hut, say,
; .Mrs. Johnson, you ueedu’t mind. A
I new one will do as well.”
And he got it.—St. Louis Republic.
I He— l had a strange dream last
j night. I dreamed you and I were
! walking together in a beautiful park
, when you suddenly threw your arms
around my neck and kissed me.
She—l hope nobody saw us.
Blow, blow, blow! That disagreeable
catarrh can be cured by taking Ilood’s
Sarsaparilla, the constitutional remedy.
The democrats are going to do as
the various churches do at tho close of
a revival —open the doors and take in
new members. Como along, boys ;we
want you all to be with us.
“No force, Bill,” cried the Demo
cratic mai<l, as her lover tried to kiss
her.
LaGrange, West Point and Hogans
ville want to establish dispensaries as a
settlement of the liqnor question.