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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