Newspaper Page Text
Early Season Goods at Late Season Prices
When you want that extra nice suit of Clothes remember that W. Cohen has got
them in the very latest fashions at prices that generally prevail late in August.
W hy not get fitted up now at the same price? I’ve got the snappiest line in
town and no one can touch my prices. Come to see me and let convince
me you
Anything for a gentleman to wear and lots of things
for a lady to wear w ill be found in my large store.
liig Bargains are here for everybody, every day in the year. Look at them.
W. COHEN, BARGAIN ‘ THE PEOPLE’S GIVER.”
The Middle Horse.
j farmer, plowing with three horses
(ihcd | abreast, noticed tired and that exhausted the mld
horse became
before either of its mates. As
animal was the equal in every
of the other two, he was puzzled
|o Land the cause of its amount not being of work, able
[finally the same
observed, however, that as
drew the plow* along the three
[with Ls held their noses close togetb
the result that the middle
j was compelled to breathe the ex-
1 air from its fellows. The farmer
ih procured a long “jockey” stick,
he fastened with straps to the
■ of the outside horses. The device
Led perfectly, for, given Its right
Jshare |horse of good, fresh air, the mid
was able to do the same
lint of work and with no greater
[ue than its fellows. like the middle
|ny persons are
—they do not get their rightful
of pure air. And this ls why
[ are not able to perform as much
; nor of as good a quality ns they
otherwise he able to do.—Cbi
| Tribune.
A Ticklish Moment.
|to act cleverly on the spot ls the
are of tact, then the man who
Is in the subjoined New York
[admiration: Ine story deserves both respect
A woman, driving
Kh New England last summer,
pd suddenly that her horse limped
so when she reached the next
Jr she stopped at the door of the
Smith shop. A man was holding
'doorpost, and to him she said:
111 you please tell the blacksmith
pie out? 1 want to see him.”
F the manner of the village
[the man did not stir, but smiled
ly at the woman and, lifting up
Bee, called:
|1. come out! There’s a Indy
I to see you.”
i“ the depths of the blacksmith
deeper voice roared:
[lie pe words young, John, or old?”
of the old poem, “she
at John and John looked at
then, still without moving, he
fed:
fll be satisfied, Bill, when you
Survival of the Fitteet.
lone oyster embryo out of every
produced grows up through
successive stages of youth to
Pult I Produce state. Even In animals
■there a small number of
is great destruction, and.
l al1 ,,ie Individuals into consld
A only a single pair of young
■“ |,| ere ,Ilft turity ls exception to replace their pnr
Ijoiy to the rule
organic being naturally
fes at so high a rate that if
f lln .'cd the progeny of single
I” 1 1 a
' s '""» cover the earth. The
f 1 ' s reckoned the slowest breed
l! 10 " 11 ai >linals. It commences
r »t thirty years of age. dies
fir ° '50 six y° uu K ln the intcr
| r years, supposing all
E llI n f of n single pair fulfilled
F and were not destroyed in an
F "n\, there would be nearly
elephants alive descended
irst pair.— sir Ray Lankester
■°n Telegraph.
*®phine'» Many Nimu,
|"‘ tyre e ; empress to her intimate of the French,
reallt friends.
rJ 1 y was Marie Joseph*
IMpoleon , after the marriage
L should be known as
He had a mania for re
: e of his entourage.
his h , o sister Marianne
. | de a Caroline, an Ellse,
1 of Paulette
LnedT ' ejette er0US fr,ends Barras Jose P h -
er r otherwise. tt - never
f fc thnT U a a who,, *u S ° he unfam Hlar with
sent his bene
N«M t °\, br “• "™"*
to-o
K«°dJ| LhrLo he <)p,mrture Jo "*P*»lne for Elba,
the under
7 mother of Frlnce
W tomb bears this
J0 ^ I>h,ne simple
l8»« - Eu K e ne et
ft her r “ e res toratlon did
r^. ° Kn ltion
f'arls as empress.
Revenge In Ceylon.
A Bystem of Cingalese “black magic"
peculiar to the Island is still practiced
In some parts of Ceylon. It Is stated
that there are 4,440 different methods
of causing ill to others. Here Is a
translation of one of these methods of
dealing with your enemy:
“On Sunday eleven peya”—one peya
equals twenty-four English minutes—
“after sunrise Yama Devi”—the god of
death and Judgment—“goes to the west.
Start at this hour; take a meal of
bluish rice; dress in red colored gar¬
ments.
“Take a root of ginger at the time of
the zodiac of Aries; write on it the
name of your rival, charm It 108 times,
wrap It In a golden colored cloth and
place it In your waist.
“When you meet your rival, look
straight Into his face and break the
root In your hand. Within nine peyas
he will be killed by an elephant, and
when seven months elapse six other
persons of his family will meet their
doom.”—Ceylon National Review.
A Gala by Another Name.
Doubtless there were many puzzled
readers when a deep sea skipper rolled
Into this harbor a few days ago and
reported that his ship had been be¬
lated by a gale which had piped up to
‘force 10.” “Force 10,” it was ex¬
plained, meant something like a hurri¬
cane. It ls a term borrowed from the
Beaufort scale, a scheme of wind
measurements devised by the British
admiral Beaufort before the days of
ocean going steam. Force 1 was a
calm, force 2 a light breeze, and so on
up to the hurricane velocity. Perhaps,
too, the Beaufort scale may give a
clew to those who have been wonder¬
ing for some time at the title of a
popular German picture. It ls just one
expanse of frowning cloud and storm
tossed billow, and the artist has named
It “wludstarke 10,11.”—New York Sun.
When the Terror Uuailed.
He would terrorize the neighbors ln
a most outrageous way, broke the
wide world’s standing records In ath¬
letics every day, while In pugilistic cir¬
cles he could wipe men In the dust and
show master tricks at fencing—laugh
at every cut and thrust. He slew ti¬
gers ln the Jungle and scalped red¬
skins on the plain. He chased lions
across the mountains and harpooned
upon the main. He could break a
bucking broncho—yes, and rope a Tex¬
an steer; sling a bowle knife or hatch¬
et, throw the boomerang or spear. In
hairbreadth escapes he gloried, did
this worthy son of Mars, and he’d lick
his weight in wildcats—kick them
higher than the stars. But his shoes
were in his pocket, and his face was
ghastly white; he was silent as an
oyster when he came In late at night.
Exchange.
He Took the Chance.
“No,” she said, and there was that
In her voice which told him she would
neither change nor falter In her re¬
solve—“no. 1 have vowed to marry
none save one brave and strong enough
to swear that should he ever be elect¬
ed president he will give the vote to
woman.”
De I-aney, such was his love’s abound¬
ing depth, hesitated not at all.
“I swear It!” he cried and fell upon
his knees before her.— Exchange.
Tibetan Teet of Character.
The Tibetans have some strange
tests for ascertaining the character of
a man, said Sven Hedlu. Gne is by
means of a hole in a block of granite,
through which the individual has to
crawl. If he is an honest man he will,
according to the theory of the Tibet¬
ans, creep through, but if a scoundrel
he will stop ln the middle.
War Play of the Future.
“What properties will we need for
the battle scene?”
“None whatever. The stage will
bare. The men are supposed to be
wearing Invisible uniforms and firing
smokeless powder from noiseless
guns."—Kansas City Journal.
The Best Advice.
If you are about to do something
which may cause trouble, ask the ad¬
vice of a man who has tried It. His
advice will be stronger than that of
moralist, and It will be backed by ex¬
THE COVINGTON NEWS
What Was the Matter.
E. A. Sothern once told a dilemma
he got Into:
"I was acting In a comedy when I
had to speak the words, ‘What’s the
matter?’ Well, one night I was rather
slow about taking my cue and was
prompted. I forgot myself for the mo¬
ment, and when the words came,
‘What’s the matter?’ I thought some¬
thing or other had occurred out of the
common. I paused and looked round.
Everything seemed normal, and the
stage waited. Then came another
‘What's the matter?' from the O. 1’.
side. They were all getting anxious
behind the scenes, and so was I. for
that matter. I looked myself up and
down and then scanned my fellow
actor, but for the life of me couldn't
see anything wrong. At last an audi¬
ble whisper eurne: ‘Go on with your
lines, you idiot! What’s the matter
with you?’ Then it suddenly dawned
on me where I was. but the house had
tumbled to the situation and came
down in convulsions.”—Minneapolis
Journal.
Th« Substitution.
It ls a well known fact that both
Sir Arthur Sullivan and Sir W. S
Gilbert had a horror of the titles of
their operas becoming know n until the
very night of their performance. This
fear that they might be forestalled cre¬
ated considerable confusion at the ini
tial production of “Iolanthe; or The
Peer and the Perl.” The opera was
rehearsed for weeks under the title
of “Perola.” It was only at the dress
rehearsal that the company was In¬
structed to substitute the name “Io¬
lanthe” for that of “Perola” wherever
it occurred ln the text or lyrics. It
was no easy task to replace vocally
and ln the dialogue a name of three
syllables for one of four. Sullivan,
however, said (maybe asldei to one or
two of the actors who were nervous:
“Go ahead and sing the music. Gil¬
bert won’t be ln front” (Gilbert never
attended the first night), “so use any
name that you think of first if you
are rattled. No one ln the audience
will be any wiser."—Boston Post.
Young's Impromptu.
To most persons Edward Young Is
the author of “Night Thoughts” and
nothing more, but he was also a man
of the world and a shrewd and caustic
wit as well as the rector of St. Mary's
church at Welwyn.
It was there ln the garden of the rec¬
tory that he composed some of the best
Impromptu verses known. He was
walking with two ladles when some
one summoned him to the house. Ills
companions were agreeable, and be
was ln no haste to leave them. Turn¬
ing as he reached the gate, be said:
Thus Adam looked when from the garden
driven
And thus disputed orders sent from
heaven.
Like him, I go and yet to go am loath:
Like him. I go, for angels drove us both.
Hard was his fate, but mine still more
unkind;
His Eve went with him, but mine stays
behind.
The Alternative.
“If the window had been eight feet
from the ground." pouted the young
wife, “Instead of eight stories, I’d
have thrown myself out when you
quarreled with me. Then you’d have
had to be sweet to me when you
picked me up. A lot of wives attempt
suicide, they say, just to be petted
when they come to.”
“Yes.” said he, “but sometimes they
don't come to, remember.”—New York
Press.
One For Every Day.
“I've been reading about one of them
rich men wot's got er suit of clothes
for every day in the week,” said one
tramp to another.
“That’s nothin’. So 'ave I. This ls it
I’ve got on now!”—London Globe.
Willis—l’m sorry your wife opened
that business letter I sent you. Harris.
You told me that she never opened
your letters.
Harris—She doesn’t, as a rule, Willis,
but. you see. you marked It “private."
A Little Too Young.
New Boarder—How’s the fare here?
Old Boarder-Well, we have chicken
every morning. New Boarder—That s
first rat*! How Is it served? Old
tba Life.
A Very Restful Rest.
Adolf Menzel, the German artist, was
at one time engaged on a mural deco¬
ration. He had rigged up a scaffolding
ln his studio, on which his model was
requested to stand. For two long
hours the poor poseur stood up aloft
ln a most fatiguing posture. Menzel
ln the meantime worked at his sketch,
heedless of the fact that his model was
growing tired.
At length the model found It neces¬
sary to speak. “Herr professor,” said
hy, “how- about a recess?”
Menzel apologized profusely for bis
forgetfulness. “Certainly, certainly,
my dear sir," said he. “Come down
and rest yourself a bit.”
The model had clambered from the
scaffolding to the ladder, which led
down from It to the studio floor.
“Stop!” cried the artist suddenly.
“That pose is fine! Don’t move a mus¬
cle!”
And once more the model was forced
Into strained rigidity, while the enthu¬
siastic draftsman set about sketching
him.
At the end of half an hour Menzel
looked up from his work. “There.”
said he; “that will do nicely! Get back
on the scaffold. We have bad our
rest. Let us get back to work again.”
What the model said is left to the
reader’s imagination.
8cotland and Horse Racing.
Scotland has been famous for its
horses from the most ancient days.
When Agricola defeated the Caledo¬
nians at the battle of the Grampians,
A. D. 84, the Celtic enemy, as Tacitus
relates, were exceptionally strong in
cavalry and charioteers. Successive
kings of Scotland did much fo improve
its native breed of horses, and In this
connection It ls not to be forgotten
that the first Scottish king of Eng¬
land, James L, did more to Improve
the race horses in our Island than was
ever done before him or has ever been
done by any Individual since. James
I. was the real author of horse racing
as it has since been known in England.
He R was who first established regu¬
lar courses, and during his reign there
came into being the code of regula¬
tions that led up to the modern laws of
the turf. Nobody denies that horse
racing has done much for the breed of
British horses. It was a gift from (
Scotland.—London Answers.
Sizing Up Bernard Shaw.
Bernard Shaw is thus immortalized
by Charles Haw trey, the well known
English comedian: “Once on a time
I had a mad desire to produce Shaw’s
play of ‘You Never Can Tell.’ I wrote
to Shaw- and asked his permission. He
answered that he would come and
read it to me. He did and began by
saying that sometimes he thought it
was the best play that ever was writ¬
ten and at others he considered it the
greatest trash. Anyhow, he was of
opinion that it was a pretty poor play
and that if I produced it—well. I must
take the consequences. Some time
afterward I asked Shaw if 1 could
compress the last act. lie declined to
allow one line to he altered or cut out.
Iu view of certain contingencies 1 had
at last to tell him that I couldn’t pro¬
duce the play. His answer was:
‘Thank you so much! You have taken
a great load off my mind.’ Now, what
are you to do with a mau like that?”—
Minneapolis Journal.
His Precaution.
The Artist's Wife (in a whisper)—
There’s some one knocking. Jack
Shall I open the door? The Artist
No; It’s Jabber's knock. It’s a special
knock I gave him, so I wouldn’t let
him ln by mistake.—Life.
4 ---
He Wanted to Know.
Johnnie—Mother isn’t blind, ls she?
Fa—Of course not. What put that
Into your head? Johnnie—Mrs. Bow¬
ser, who was here today, said mother’d
never see forty again.—Boston Tran¬
script.
Not a Crack Shot.
“My aim Is truth—always truth.” said
a man.
“Possibly,” rejoined an acquaintance,
“but you were always a bad marks¬
man!”
A man’s fate lies in his character
and not In his conditions.—Mable.
To the Ladies of
Covington.
We have added a bakery to our
Lunch Counter and Candy Kitchen
and have secured the services of E.
A. Veal, an expert baker of 12 years
experience. Why make cakes when
you can get them from us such as
Angel cake, Pound cake, Raisin
cake, Citron, Silver and Fruit
cakes ; cream puffs, chocolate, el"
elaire, coeoanut, and macaroons.
Pies of all kinds.
Wedding cakes a specialty.
We are making a special run this
week on Layer Cakes, coeoanut,
chocolate and caramel, 50c each.
J. L. Smith,
Phone 221.
If you want the very best there is m printing give
us a trial order. We do that kind.
kj **** ►?«*?« .T«.7« AAAA— AAAAAAAA AAAAi
1 <
Racket
*
| New spring and summer goods are here.
| Have added several new lines.
| COME AND SEE THEM.
•5 Same big cash values as we have al
* .
| ways given you. Remember uew goods
| of the season arriving every few days
| ands marked at the lowest spot cash
<3 ►: prices. Yours truly,
i J. I. Guinn, C, £,1B
™
Georgia.