Newspaper Page Text
THE HENRY COUNTY WEEKLY
CONSOLIDATED JANUARY 1,1591.
VOL. XV.
PltO FESS lOX A L CA III)S.
| jit. fi. l». < HIIMII I 1..
DENT I ST.
McDonoi on
Any one desiring work do«e can J^ !U *
Bonmodated eithei l.> tailing on me in pot
«on or addr.'-jiti : me llirnnrh the math.
Perms cash, unless special arrangements
are otherwise Hindu
~gJ„ W. Butan j W.T. Oickkn.
ISICt .V i»H iti .V
ATTORNEYS at law.
McDONOrOH, * «A.
Will practice in the counties composing
the Flint J uiiicial Circuit, the Supreme Court
of Georgia anil the United States District
Court. aprll7-l v
j AH. 11. 'l’l II > l‘.l£. .
attorney at law,
McDonough, Lla.
Will practice in the counties composing
the Flint Circuit, the Supreme Court of
Georgia, and the United States District
ourt. mitrlti - | y
I ’ .s. rkagan,
L.
attorney at law.
McDonough, tl».
Will practice in all the Courts of Georgia
Special attention given to commercial and
athercoUections. Will attend all the Courts
it Hampton regularly. Office upstairs over
PiiK Wkkklv office.
j l\ H AM..
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
McDonough, Ga .
Will practice in the counties composingthe
Flint Judicial Circuit, and the Supreme and
District Courts of Georgia. Prompt attention
giv n to collections. oct. r >-’79
A. IIKOtVA,
* 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 A. I‘IIKPLES
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
t ion given to Collections, Oct 8, 1888
Jno. I). Stewart. I It.T. Danikl.
trriIWAKT & DANIEL,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Grwfin, Ga.
| Oil A TVE.
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Gate City Natioal Bank Building,
Atlanta. Ga,
Practices in the State and Federal Courts,
THE—
East im ndkA h
R’Y.
SHORT AND DIRECT LINE
TO TIIE
NORTH, SOUTH,
EAST AND WEST.
PULLMAN'S FINEST YES*
TIBULE SLEEPERS
B KT W E K X
ATLANTA & KNOXVILLE
MACON & CHATTANOOGA
BRUNSWICK & ATLANTA
w mioi i rii vx.IN
DIRECT Connections at Chat
tanooga with Through
trainsand Pullman Sleep
ers to
Memphis and the West,
sit Knoxville with l*nllmnn
Sleepers for
WASHINGTON,
PHILADELPHIA,
AND NEW YORK.
FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ADDRESS,
B. W. WRENN, CHAS. N.KICHT
Pas*. Ag'., A.6.F. A.
KNOXVII.DK. ATLANTA
AAAAAATLIII 1 urnOrUk- !o
111 1111 I Iteacb any (airly hitelHjreo! peraon of either
KIIZ 111 sex, mho can read and write, and who.
P.Sa?Pflll I after ina (ruction, will work industrioualy.
WV V V wto earn Three Ikou.and Dollar* a
Tear in their .-wn 1— a'itiea.w hererer they lire.l will alao furniah
the situation or employment.at w huh you can earn that amount.
Jio mouet for me unlewa aaeeeaaful aa above. Faaily and qnigkly
learned i desire hut one worker from each .''strict or county 1
have aireadjr taught and provided with employment a laic*
namber. wh» are nkine over a rear each It • K
end **s>S.,l!£. Full =olai -P IS S'E. Ad»i:>-»»«£ -.ice,
11. AI.LEN. ilok 4140, A uguata, Maine,
TE'4 DOLLARS
will Itepaid for th*» i*** dfstcrtpikH* of the celebrate
Nh * 'itfi; lonejif;: led Nt- v South " r ea* l!'d o>
Tin* K'l'l 'lt i;n«**t»p. i irgiiiis A
Kaiiitaf vh i *b*!J «ncl*s«ie all r«*«onrce*
feDowii !?i the Lai <«>i. ! oDteat closes Dec J-Rt
laic Dp* by thr*-e <li<?iruru:»b*»d
* B. W VVIi£NN. KNOZVILLS. TItSTJ*
Highest of all in Leavening Power. —U. S. Gov’t Report, Aug. 17, 1889.
Dq\ll Baking
Powder
ABSOLUTELY PURE
JUST ONE.
There is a time not far off, dear,
When one of us will wait in tears
Beside the couch where silence reigns
Supreme to one ! To one in tears.
Just one in vain will call the name
Of one who answers nevermore—
Whose e..r hears not the loving voids
Of one who calls across the shore.
Just one! Ah ! which one must it Ue 7
That o’er the other’s somber bier
Shall first shed pearls of love most pure,
And call in vain for one most dear 7
Just one, my dear, must.bear the pain
And anguish of the parting day—
Will speak to ears that listen not,
And press one kiss at last for ave.
Forty I>ays.
The rain that produced the flood
fell forty days and forty nights.
Alter the rain had ceased, it was forty
days before Noah opened the. ark.
Moses was forty days in the mountain
fasting. Forty days was the period
devoted iu ancient times to the em
balming of the dead. The spies spent
forty days investigating Canaan before
they gave their report.
Elijalt fasted forty days in the wil
derness after he had fled from the an
ger of Jezebel, the queen. Jonah gave
the inhabitants of Nineveh just forty
days in which to consider his prophecy
and repent Jesus fasted forty days
in file desert. In old English law
forty days has played an important,
part. Forty days is the time for
quarantine.
A widow was permitted te occupy
the house of her dead husband forty
days after his death. A stranger ap
pearing in a parish was allowed forty
days before he must he enrolled as re
siding in some particular place.
The members of Parliment were ex
empt from art est forty days after the
prorogation of Parliament and forty
days before it met again. So the num
ber forty has played an important part
in the traditions and superstitions and
laws of different people. In the mid
dle ages fo.rty was a period looked up
on by old doctors with a superstitious
regard, as a time when remarkable
changes might be expected to take
place in their patients. * ’
Among the alchemists forty 7 days
was looked on as a charmed number
when, after certain rites and ceremonies
at the expiration of that period the
philosopher’s stone, or the elixer of
life might appear.
Iltimaii Instinct.
So powerful ie human instinct, that
some of its suggestions become em
bodied in social and household customs
The people know and feel that at the
beginning of the spring season the sys
tem needs an alterative and purifying
tome and stimulant. * In all parts of
the country it is the custom for the
housewife to dose her brood with sas
safras tea. Among the simple reme
dies that our ancestors employed, this
decoction has continued to hold its own.
The demand for a spring alterative
and tonic, however, is tilled more
efficaciously by S. S. S., which is itself
as simple as nature’s remedial medicine
should he. It purlins the blood, clean
ses and strengthens the system, and
prepares the human machine to stand
the wear and tear of the summer
! months.
The Deadly Mouse.
A lady, while engaged in the pursuit
of her domestic duties, encountered a
mouse in the flour barrel. Now. most
ladies, under similar circumstances,
would have a few genuine shrieks and
then sought safety in the gariet, hyt
this one had more than the ordinary
degree of genuine courage. ■ She sum
moned the man servant and told him
to get the gun, call the dog and sta
tion himself at a convenient distance.
Then she clambered up stairs and com
menced to punch the flour barrel with
a pole. Presently the mouse made its
appearance and started across the floor.
The dog started at once in pursuit.
The ffiau fired and the dog dropped
i dead. The lady faiuted, fell down
the stairs, and the man, thinking she
was killed, and fearing he would be
’ arrested for murder, disappeared and
has not been seen since. The mouse
escaped.
AND HENRY COUNTY TIMES.
McDonough, ga., Friday. junes, ism.
Your Boy.
You do not know what is in him.
Rear with him the patient; wait. He
is a boy and most hoys are bad. You
think him so light hearted, and fear he
is light-headed as well. Remember he
calls you father. When lie played in
your lap you fondly hoped he would
some day be a great ami useful man.
Now that he has grown larger, and his
young blood drives him into gleeful
sport, and makes him impatient of se
rious things, rattling, playful, thought
less, you almost despair. But don’t
he snappish and snarlish, and make
him feel you are disappointed ir. him.
lie is your hoy and you are to live
with him. He boars your name and
is to send it down the streams of time.
He inherits your fortune and fame, and
is to transmit them to generations to
come.
It may be difficult to govern him,
but be patient, lie may seem adverse
to everything useful and good, but
wait. No one can tell what is in a
hoy. He may surprise you some day.
Hope. Let him grow. While his
body grows larger and stronger, his
mental and moral nature may expand,
and improve. Educate your hoy
You may think money spent in that
way is money spent in vain. There is
nothing in him ; he has no pride, no
ambition. You dou’t know. No one
can tell what there is in a boy. Be
sides, there maybe an unkindled spark,
an uufanned flame, a smouldering fire,
a latent energy, which the teacher’s
aid may stir, the association of books
may arouse/ develop and direct, and
thus start your boy agoing with such
energy that no power on earth could
stop him short of the topmost round
of the ladder of time.
If you cannot educate him let him
educate himself. That will make him
strong. A giaut with whom none
dare interfere. Such are the meu in
the world. The greatest benefactors
of the race have stooped their siioul
to bear burdens, have carried hands
hardened, with rough labor, lieve en
dured the fatigue of toil Many such
are in our midst, now. Labor con
quers all things. The old Roman was
right. We see it in a thousand instan
ces Labor makes the man. No boy
ever came to be a man, the nobli st
work of God, without labor. This is
Cod’s great law; there is a divine
philosophy in it. Let your hoy wotk ;
if he will wot work, make him work.
There is no progress, no development,
no outcome, no true manhood without
it. We must work.
Father, be kind to yottr bov. We
know what a mother will do. Thank
God, a mother’s love, a mother’s pray
er follow us still, and the memory ol
her anxious tears shall never fade out
during the succession of years. Final
ly, but not least pray for your boy.
God hears prayer. Do the best you
can, commit all you cannot do to (toil,
and hope. Never despair, for. no one
knows what is in a hoy.
There have lately been placed upon
the market several cheap reprints of
an obsolete edition of “Webster’s Dic
tionary.” These books are given va
rious names, “Webster’s Unabriged,”
“The Great Webster’s Dictionary,”
“Webster’s !>ig Dictionary,” “Web
ster’s Encyclopedic Dictionary,” etc.,
etc.
Many announcements concerning
them are very misleading, as the body
of each from A to Z is the same, —for-
ty four years behind the times, print
ing from cheap plates made by photo
graphing the old pages.
’1 he old book has been padded out
by various additions culled from vari
ous sources of questionable reliability,
hut the lioJy is the same that was pub
lished when Polk was president and
duly buried at the incoming of Lincoln.
The Webster, current from Lincoln to
Harrison, is the popular copyrighted
“Unabridged” which has just been su
perseded by Webster’s Internation
al Dictionary. —See advertisement
in another column.
Now is the time to subscribe.
Mary Clairmont, M. D.
When Mary Clain*q«ii’s engage
ment was proclaimed Q|b the world
there ensued a of
surprise.
People are genera at
matrimonial mgageiiM)ts. There
is always some cogeut reason why
things should have been adjusted oth
erwise—why John shoult| have mar
ried Joan, and Peter should prefer
Betsy. Nobody was ever yet married
to suit everybody.
But in Mary Clairruont's case it did
really seem as it the course of true
love had iuterferred seriously with the
current of common sense and pru
dence.
Miss Clairmont was Inly one-and
twenty, a tall, imperial t beauty, with
dewy black eyes, a »kiuf as tresh as
damask roses, ami dark-brown hair,
coiled in shining bands at* the back of
her head. Moreover, Miss Clairmont
had a “career” before /her She had
just graduated from Medlield Medical
University, and taken out her degree
as an M. I).
‘‘And only to think of it,” said
Aunt Jo, bursting into fears of vexa
ation and disappointment, “that she
must needs go and ruin all her pros
pects by getting engaged to Harry
Harlow, down in New York!”
“It dose seem strange, Aunt Jo.
when I sit down and think of it,” said
Doctor Mary, laughing and blushing.
Six months ago my profession was all
the world to me. I neither wished
nor cared for anything outside of its
limits. The future wa All* mapped I
out before me without let or hindrance;
and now ”
“Humph!” growled Aunt Jo, “any
brainless idiot can get married and
keep a man’s house and mend his shirts
for him, but you were mude for some
thing brighter and more dignified,
Mary.”
Mary’s dew-bright eyes sparkled
“Higher, Aunt Jo?” said she. “More
dignified? There you are mistaken.
There is no higher or more digitized
lot iu life than that of the true wife of
a noble husband.”
“Fiddlesticks!” said Auut Jo. “As
if every poor fool who was dazzled by
the glitter of a wedding ring didn’t say
the same thing ! You’ve disappointed
me, Mary Clairmont, and I’m ashamed
of vou—that is the lout; and the short
of it.”
“Dear Aunt Jo, said she, “I shall
not let my sword and shield rust, be
lieve me. Harry has only his own
talents to advance him in to world, and
it will he at least a year before we
shall he ready to marry. In the mean
time I shall accept the post of visiting
physician to the Aldenbury Almshouse
and practice my profession just the
same as if there were no engagement.”
“I wish to goodness there wasn’t,”
said Aunt Jo. “I tell you wliat, Mary,
I don't fancy that smiling, smooth
tongued young man of yours, and 1
never shall.”
Still Dr. Mary Clairmont kept her
temper.
“I am sorry, Aunt J.i,” she said,
pleasantly. “But I hope you will even
tually change your mind.”
“I used to keep a thread and-ueedle
store when 1 was a young worn an,” re
marked Aunt Jo, dryly, “and I always
could tell the ring of a counterfeit half
dollar when a customer laid it on the
counter. I could then and I can now
and I tell you what, Mary, there’s
base metal about Harry Marlow.”
Dr. Mary hit her lip.
“Perhaps. We Will not discuss the
subject further, Aunt Jo,” she said
with quiet dignity, and the old lady
s lid no more.
“Aunt Jo is wrong,” jiersisted the
pretty young M. I). to herself.
“Mary is making a fool of herself !”
thought Aunt Jo.
Aldenbnry was a pretty manufactur
ing village, with a main street shaded
by umbrageous maples; a “west end,”
where people who had made their for
tunes lived comfortably in roomy old
houses, surrounded by velvet lawns and
terraced gardens, and an. “east end,”
where people fought desperately and
not always successfully to keep body
and soul together on the merest pit
tance.
And a little wav out of the village
the almshouses, built and endowed hv a
certain smuggling sea captain, whose
conscience had pricked him during* his
latter days, raised their gray s*one ga
bles to the sky, and made a picturesque
baek ground to the landscape.
Dr. Mary Clairmont made some
thing of a sensation at A Idem bury.
Up to this time all the resident M. D.’s
had been stuffy old gentlemen with
wigs, or pert young ones with eye
glasses.
A beautiful young lady who wrote
perscriptions and compounded pills and
potions was a novelty iu the town, and
by no means a disagreeable one. l\so
pie rather liked the idea, once they
convinced themselves that the lady
doctor understood herself and her pa
tients.
And the poor old people at the aim
house grew to loye Dr. Mary and lis
ten with eager ears for the sound of
her carriage wheels over the blue grav
el drive which led up to the portico.
It was a brilliant Decomber day
when the young physician stood in the
neatly carpeted reception-room draw
ing on her fur glovos previous to en.
tering her neat pheatou once again,
while she reiterated to the white-cap
ped maid some directions concerning
old Ann Mudgett’s rheumatism, when
the matron hurried in.
“Oil, 1 beg your pardon, l)r. Clari
inont,” said she, “hut I clean forgot
the new old woman.”
“The new old woman,” repeated Dr.
Mary, with a smile.
“That is,” exclaimed Mrs. Cunning
ham, “she only came last night—a
quiet old soul, half-bliml, and quite had
with asthma. Perhaps you had bet
ter just see her before you go. She
brought a card of admission from I)r.
Merton, the New York clergyman,
who is one of our directors, you know.
And she seems a decent body enough.”
So Dr. Mary went cheerfully into
the little brick-paved room, with its
white pallet-bed, cushioned rocking
cbair, and neatly-draped casement,
where sat a poor, little, shriveled-up
woman, wrapped in a faded shawl.
She looked timidly up, as l)r. Mary
came in, from under the borders of her
cap.
“I'm a poor body miss,” said she,
“and I’m sensible I’m inakiug a deal
of trouble in the world. But Lord
don’t always (tike us, miss, when we’d
like to go.”
“This is the doctor,” said Mrs. Cun
ningham.
■ “The little woman would have risen
up to make a feeble curtsey, hut Dr.
Mary motioned her too keep her
seat.
“What is your name ?” said site
pleasantly.
“Louise Marlow, miss."
“Marlow ! That is an unusual namo
isn’t it ?” said Mary Clairmont, color
ing in spite of herself.
“We’re English, miss,” said the old
woman, struggling bravely with her
asthma. “There ain’t many of us iu
this country. I've a son, miss, in the
law business, as any mother might lie
proud of.”
“A son !” echoed Mrs. Cunning
ham ; “and you in the almshouse?”
“Not that it’s his fault, ma’am,” the
old creature made haste to explain.
“My son is to be married to a fiue
proud lady, as is fit for any prince in
all the land, and, of course, he can’t tie
expected to burden himself with a help
less old woman like me. lie says I’m
to write and let him know how I gut
along, and if I'm sick or anything he’ll
try to see. I sewed carpets until the
asthma got hold of me, and supported
myself comfortably. 15ut, of course, I
couldn’t lay up anything for a rainy
day —who could ? And Henry couldn’t
help me, for he’s getting ready to he
married, poor lad ! Sp I weut to Dr.
Merton and asked him did he know
where an old lady like me could end
her days in peace. And he gave me a
card to come here and some money to
pay my traveling expenses—God bless
him!—and here I am.”
Mary < 'lairmont listened rjuietly to
the garrulous tale, hut the color varied
in her cheek more than once as she
stood there.
‘■ls your son name Harry Marlow ?”
she said, slowly and thoughtfully.
“Yes, miss, at your service,” said
the old woman, with a duck of her
white-capped head, which was meant to
do duty in place of the impossible cur-
tesy.
“Is he like this ?” said Dr. Mary, tak
ing a {(holograph from her pocket.
The old woman, with trembling
hands, fitted on her iron-bowed specta
cles, and looked at the picture, utter
ing a little cry of recognition.
“•Sure, miss, it is his own self,” she
cried. “You are acquainted with him*
then ?”
“Somewhat,” said Dr. Mary, com
posedly, as she returned the photo
grap to its place. “And now I will
lesve you something to relieve this dif-
liculty in breathing.”
But the old crone eyed her wist
fully.
“Perhaps you know the young lady
my son is to marry.
“Yes,” said Dr. Mary, writing some
thing iu her prescription hook. “I
have seen her.”
“Perhaps, miss,” faltered the old
woman, “you would give her my hum
ble duty, and tell her I would just like
to look at her for once and see what
she is like. There’s no fear of my
troubling her, miss, for I mean to end
my days here. But I would like to
see her just once. And if it wouldn't
be asking too much, miss, would you
please write to my son, and tell him
where I am, for I’m no scholar myself,
and I’m his mother, after all.
“I will write to him,” said Dr! Mary,
quietly ; and so she went away.
“I never see a lady doctor afore, ’’
said old Mrs. Marlow, with a lonir
• 0
sigh.” “But she's a pretty creel ure, |
and it seems good to have her around.
I hope she’ll come again soon.”
“You may be sure of that,” said the
matron, brusquely. “Dr. Clairmont
ain’t one to neglect poor people because
they aro poor.”
That evening Aunt Jo, frying crul
lers over the kitchen fire, was supptis
eil liy a visit from her niece, who came
iu all wrapped in furs, with her cheeks
crimsou with the frosty whiter air.
“Bless me 1 this ain’t .never you !”
said Aunt Jo, peering over her spec.a
cles.
“I drove over to see you, Aunt Jo,"
said Mary, to tell you that you were
right. The metal was counterfeit.”
“Eh ?” said Aunt Jo, mechanically
ladling out the brown, curly crullers,
although she did not look at what she
was doing.
“I have written to Harry Marlow,
cancelling our engage tup lit,”/ said Dr.
Mary, camly, albeit tier voice faltered
a little. “The man who will heart
lessly let iiis old mother go to the aim
house, sooner than to take the trouble
to maintain but? can be fin (ft husband
for any woman !”
Aim! then she sat down by the fire
and told Aunt Jo everything; for
crabbed, crusty old Aunt Jo had been
like a mother to her ; and the girl’s
heart was full to overflowing.
When she had ceased speaking,
Aunt Jo nodded her head.
“You have done well and wisely,”
said she.
Old Mrs. Marlow died that winter
in Aldenbury Almshouse, with her
head on Dr. Mary Clairmont’s arm,
and never knew her garrulous confes
sions had deprived her son of his prom
ised wife.
And Mary says quietly and reso
lutely that her profession must be bus
baud and home to her hencefor
ward.
“Just what it ought to he,” says
Aunt Jo. “No.woman ever yet suc
ceeded in doing two things at once.”
—lndianapolis News.
He Was Kind.
In the waiting room of the Pennsyl
vania depot the other day, says the
New York World, was a middle-aged
man with a fresh weed on his hat, and
quite a number of people must have
whispered to themselves that he had
lately lost the companion of his joys
and sorrows. Amoug those who ob
served him closely was a man of aliout
his own age, who had live or six par-
cels on the seat behind him, having
evidently been doing considerable tra
ding. After a few minutes he walked
over to the other and remarked:
“I don’t mean to be sassy, but I see
you are in mourning.”
“Yes.”
“Wife?”
“Yes.”
“How long since?” •
“Just a week.”
“Cm! Here, take this lemon,” con
tinued the questioner, as he drew one
from his coat tail pocket.
“I-*— I thank you, but ”
“Cost me 3 cents, but you needn’t
worry about that. You orter keep ’em
with you right along. Lost my wife
two years ago and went to sucking
lemons, and I’ll be hanged if I didn’t
forget all about my calamitous loss and
pitch a game of quoits within two
weeks ! Try a dozen or two, and I’ll
bet an acre of garden sas agin a straw
Imt you’ll be huntin’ for No. 2 within
six months.
A great many people have expressed
astonishment at the rapid manner in
which Cheatham’s Tasteless Chill Ton
ic gained popularity. It is not reroar
j kable at all. We simply said it would
cure chills. It has always done so
Try it. Price 50 and 75 cents. No
cure, no pay.
I Henry County Weekly, Established 1 37fj,
( Henry County Times, Established 1884.
TOBACCO CULTURE.
It Will He An Important Adjunct of
Our Georgia Farms.
Discussion of the matter of tolmeco
culturo is increasing in Georgia, and
experiments are being made which, if
successful, will be followed in a few
years by a general adoption of this
branch of husbandry, aud a conseqikiit
increase in the revenues of the farmers
Those who have had experience in
the business assert that the climate and
soil of various parts of Georgia * are
adapted especially to this branch of in
dustry, and that if it is only tried and
persevered in, good results will follow.
Of course such improvements come
slowly. There will be no general adop
tion of the culture until the pioneers of
experiments and their success convin
ces the people that the business pays.
Hut the fact that interest has lieen
awakened evidences that it will be but
a few years before Georgia wili rank
with Virginia and the Carolinas in to
bacco raising. In this connection the
Thomasville correspondent of the At.
lanta Constitution will prove interest
ing ■
Mr. William Mitchell, a progresive
young business man, is engaged in ex
perimental tobacco culturo on his farms,
one and two miles from Tliomasvillu.
The progress and future results are
watched with considerable interest by
a large number of planters, and should
the crop turn out well it is safe to say
that next year a large acreage will lie
put in the weed.
On the place known as the fair
grounds, formerly a stud farm, Mr.
Mitchell lias twenty acres in tobacco,
and on bis two-mile place, twelve, mak
ing in all thirty-two acres. 'The varie
ty set out is a line smoking
tobacco, and so far the plants aro in a
most prospering condition, the only in
jury so far having been sustained is
slight, and was caused by the drought.
Cold has not injured the young plants
in the least. The soil is sandy and is
well adapted to the growing of tobacco,
hh it contains no limestone or other
substance of injury to its succes* fill
raising.
Tobacco growing is couhitied with
many difficulties, and many things
hava to be taken into consideration.
The raising of tobacco sprouts requires
the greatest care ; the character of the
soil exercises great influence upon to
bacco, affecting its quality as well as
quantity, likewise the conditions of the
weather, not only during the perioij of
growth, but also during the curing and
while in storage, but then it is by far
one of the most profitable crops grown
on a farm. Mr. Culpepper, Mr. Mitch
ell’s overseer, is an old hand at tol>a£r
growing, and has raised a number of
successful crops elsewhere, lie is con
fident. considering the favorable con
ditions, of making a success of this
one. As soon as the plants mature,
specimens will be shipped to experts
for examination to determine the qual
ity.”
A Schoolroom Idyl.
“Teacher, I cannot answer that ques
tion.’'
“Hubert, your reasons for this surpri
sing refusul to answer me! Did Thom
as Jones throw that spit ball?”
It was a thrilling moment. Across
his desk, says Puck the tall, powerful
master glared sternly at the [tale, deter
mined face of the little fellow Iteforo
him.
From their seats the scholars watch
ed the scene with bated breath.
An investigative youth in the back
of the room dropped a pin, and was
frightened at the noise it made. The
big green fly stopped buzzing against
: the window pane. The boughs of the
old elm beside tde door ceased their rust
ling to catch th*e brave boy’s answer.
At last it came. The noble little
| fellow burst into tears.
“I don’t want to,” he sobbed, “cause
Tommy Jones says if I blab on him he'll
| lick do stuffin out er me.”
Mr. W. H. Snowden, Macon, Ga.,
says: “I have yet to record an instance
in which Bradycrotine failed to afford
prompt relief.
Plain castor oil is probably the most
nauseous dose a mortal ever had to
take. Cheatham’s Tasteless Castor
Oil is one of the most pleasant. It is
just the same as the plain oil in effect,
but oh! the difference in the taste.
Price 25 cents.
Hundreds of people have used Hunt's
Cure with the most happy results in
diseases yf the skin, such as Eczema.
Tetter, Ringworm, etc It is guaran
teed to cure and only 50 ceuts per box.
Job work neatly doue at this office,
NO- 40