Newspaper Page Text
ADVERTISE IN
The Waycross Herald,
IT 1ST
GEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM
IN THIS SECTION.
CHRISTMAS SUPPLEMENT.
WAYCROSS, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1892.
NO. 4
PROFESSIONAL CARDS.
O. O. THOMAS,
Attorney at Law,
COURT IIOl.SC, WAVenOS*. OA.
i
B. H. WILLIAMS, D. D. S.,
Or nr*: IVstair*
FOLKS BLOCK, WAYCUOKK, «A.
Tenders 1»1« profiatmnnal servk-wi to the
JJR. JAS. C. KIFFARD,
physician and Surgeon, 1
Waycjmms, Oi.
Special attention given to Genito I'rlna- !
ry Surgery. Can always be (bond in Wil- ;
son Block, upstair*. April I4-»f.
WALLACE MATHEWS, H. D.,
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON.
WAYCROSS, : : : : GEORGIA.
jan28-ly
D It. F. C. FOLKS, Pliyaidan and Sur
geon, Waycrww, Ga.
.Office ovcrT. E. Iamkh’s Jewelry Store.
Office hours from 9 to W \. m. L'anjie found
at my residence, comer Pendleton street
and Brunswick avenue, when not profes
sionally engaged. jyt.ly
DR. J. E. W. SMITH, l
Office Reed’* Block.
.special attention piren diseases of the Eye, '
Ear, NW and Throat.
WAYCItOSS, - GEORGIA. I
|^II. A. P. ENGLISH,
Physician and Surgeon,
WAYCROSS - - GEORGIA, j
tST All calls promptly attended. "’SO
DR. RICHARD B. NEW. |
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON.
Office at Mint Rcuudiart's,
WAYCROSS, : : : GEORGIA.
Jan :ui-c.m
Dr. J. P. PRESCOTT,
Practicing Physician
HOUUKKN, VEORU1A.
AH calls promptly attended.
S. L. DRAWDY,
ATTtHtXKY AT I.AW.
HOMER VILLE, : : GEORGIA.
DR. J.H. REDDING,
OFFICE. FOLKS BLOCK,
Near Hotel Phoenix. uptvu-ly
TWO CHRIST-MAS GIFTS.
MAN wasfound
murderedin th«
village of Nor*
ton. East Ten
nessee, anil the
authorities ar
rested a stran
ger named Al
freds. Of course
Alfreds had nc
business in the
community,and
this of itself
partook of the
but.
>us im-
HITCH & MYERS,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW, j
Up Stairs Wilson's Block.
WAYCROSS, GEORGIA,
J S. WILLIAMS,
Attorney at Law.
WAYCROSS, ■ • - - UKOlilllA. |
JOIIY C. McDONAM),
Attorney end Counselor nl
Law,
WAYCROSS,. - - - (IKOnoiA, |
Orricc np stain in Wilson Block. j
A. WILSON, !
Attorney at Law, j
WAYCROSS, - - - GEORGIA i
aside from this, evidence of seri<
port was not wanting. Here is the case
briefly set forth. Alfreds and a mar
named Jenkins were seen together om
evening walking along the road, and
the next morning Jenkins was found,
with his head crushed In, lying in 9
patch of briars. At the preliminary
trial before a justice of the peace Al
freds declared that he and Jenkins hail
parted company near tho briar patch
where tho body bad been found, but as
this declaration was not admitted as
evidence Alfreds was handed over tc
tho grand jury and was, as everyone
expected, indicted for murder and im
prisoned to await the action of the cir
cuit court.
The jailer In. an obscure village is
often a leader in society, and tho jail
er’s daughter is naturally a person oi
much moment. Old Lias Springer had,
(luring many years, been jailer in Nor
ton, and his daughter Ruth had de
clined several good offers of marriage.
She was exceedingly bright of coun
tenance and it was the mysterious
R.
I . CANNON,
Attorney at Law,
WAYCKOSS, - - - UKOlilllA. ,
Office up stain in Wilson Blin k.
Will practice in tho Brunswick (’in-nit ami 1
elsewhere by special contract.
Nov lS-’W-ly.’
or. Xji. orawlby,
ATTORNEY LAW.
WAYCROSS, : GEORGIA.
Office in the Wilson Building.
DR. T. A. BATT.EY,
DENTIST,
Office over C. E. Cook’s, Plant Avenue,
WAYCTtOSH, GEORGIA.
«**• »y. iy
WARREN LOTT,
Fire, Life and Accident In
surance Agent,
WAYCROSS. - - - UE0RG1A.
—Nothing but first-class companies repre-
Time Tried and Fire Tested
Fire, Life aud Accident Insurance Com
panies, and
REAL ESTATE OFFICE.
irld 1
W. A. WRIGHT, J. P„
And Agent For
National Guarantee Co
Securities obtained on easy terms. Special
attention given to the collection of claims.
Post Office Building, Waycross. Ga.
Tin Only Om *r»r Printed—CaM Yon
Find Om Want!
There is a 3-inch display advertisement in
this paper, this week, which has no two
words alike except one word. The same is
. true of each new one appearing each week,
from the Dr. Harter Medicine Co. This
house places a ‘‘Crescent" on everything
they make and publish. Look for it, send
them the name of the word, and they will
return yon Book, Beautiful * ’
Samples Free. .
boast of the neighborhood that she
could parse anything. I say mysteri
ous. for parsing was a vague mystery to
mauy people who were glib in repeat
ing this bit of commendable brag.
Ruth, from the first moment of Alfreds’
imp? tegument, showed a sympathetic
into eat in him. He had dreamy eyes,
waving chestnut hair, and was there
fore innocent. In the afternoon, when
the jail corridor was lighted by the sun,
she often placed her rocking chair near
the door of Alfreds’ cell, and sitting
there sewed and talked to him.
“Would you let me out If you could
get the key?” he asked, one day.
She pretended to pout “Why should
I? You’d run away and then I’d not
have anybody to talk to.”
“Butiflatayhereto talk to you I
shall be hanged.”
“Yes. but a woman would rather ta.k
to a man. even if he is to be hanged f *r
it. than not to talk at all.’”
“What an odd little creature you are.
Miss Ruth.”
“Oh.you think Tm odd, do you? That
isn’t very kind of you. I was in hopes
that I was something besides odd.
Anybody can be odd.”
“Bat anybody can’t have your sort of
oddity."
“Oh. then, I’ve got the oddest sort of
oddity. I don’t know whether to like
that or not. Do you know that yon are
the only man I ever met that didn't try
to flatter on*"** •
“I didn’t know it, but if I nra, why, »
must be thankful for the distinction.”
“Oli, you must, must you, Mr. Sar
casm? Why don’t, you tell me something
about yourself?” she asked, after «
moment’s pause.
“I have—I have told you that I air
innocent.”
“Oh, that isn’t anything. Anybody
can be innocent. Where do your peoplt
live?”
“I haven’t any people.” i
“Well, where do you come from?” j
“I have come from a place where
there was no happiness to a place where •
nothing but misery and disgrace can lx 1
expected."
“You make me sad when you talk,
that way, Mr. Alfreds.”
“And would you expect me to inspire j
gayety. Miss Ruth?”
“No, I don’t think I ought to expect
that. But you are not without friends
Mr. Alfreds. Most all the ladies in this
town are interested in yon.”
“Women are ever interested in a mar
who is about to be hanged,” he replied
“Oh, don’t talk about being hanged.
I don’t see how they can hang you, yoc
are so nice.” He laughed. “I don’t; 1
really* don’t. Now if yon were some ugly,
good-for-nothing thing, it would ba dif
ferent. Yoft follow my advice: When
you are taken into court look just a*
pleasant as yon can.”
“Unfortunately, Miss Ruth, the jury
will not be composed of women."
“Well, don’t you fear. I think it will
come out all right."
But did it come out all right? Tb(
court met three days later, and after a
very short trial Alfreds was sentenced tc
be hanged. It was no surprise to him.
He was to meet death sixty days later,
on the day after Christmas. It was
dark when he was taken back to his
cell, and he clung to & hope that Ruth
might come to console him; but the
weary hours passed and krad-mouthed
dogs bayed the turn, of nignt. Morning,
and still no sympathetic face, no voice
of soft encouragement. Weeks passed.
Ruth was away on a visit. Christmas
morning. The day was bright. A man
came in with the prisoner’s breakfast.
“Do you think the weather is likely
to change between now and to-morrov
morning?" Alfreds asked.
“Why so?"
“Because if it should cloud to-day
will give me my last glimpse of the sun
Has the young lady returned?”
“No, not yet.”
“When do you expect her?"
“Don’t know. I’m hired to chop wood
and work about the place and not to
listen to the news of the family."
“Will the hanging be public?”
“As public as out of doors can make
it.”
“Do you think there’ll be many peo
ple present?”
“Oh, certainly. People look for amuse
ment during the holidays.”
“I must say that you are cold-blooded."
“And why shouldn’t I be; why
shouldn’t I bate every man that’s on
fortunate?”
“Why should you is the question?”
“Because I served a term in the pen
itentiary.”
“What had you done?”
“Told tho truth.”
“What, they sent yon to the peniten
tiary for telling the truth?”
“Yea, they asked me if I committed
the forgery and I said that I did."
“Oh, you are a satirist."
“Well, 1 must go and split a piece ol
knotty wood. Firys must go even ii
Christmas do come. I suppose you can
take care of yourself to-day, and as for
to-morrow, why, the sheriff will have
to take care of yon."
He passed out and a merry voice
heard. The prisoner’s blood leaped.
Ruth had returned. All smiles and airs
of gayety, she entered the corridor; and
she was not alone; the sheriff and the
jailer were with her.
’•Mr. Alfreds," she cried, “X have
brought you a Christmas present. Here
is your pardon.”
’•Open the door,” said the sheriff. Be
fore Alfreds’ swimming eyes the Iron
bars were shadow lace work.
“Come oninto the sitting-room,” said
the girl; and she led him out.
Ue sat tn a roclring-chair. A long
time passed before he said anything.
“And have they discovered my inno
cence?” he asked. k
“No,” she answered, “Eret me tell
you what I did. I made jill the jury
men and the prosecuting attorney and
the judge and hundreds of 6thcr people
sign a petition asking for your pardon,
and then I went all the way to.Nash-
villc and mode the governor sign your
pardon. Don’t you' think |*m smart?”
“I think you are ail angel."
“No you don’t—you .think: rm -a hap
hazard rattle-trap, jtolti the gov
ernor about your hair^rthink of talking
about a man’s hair—^nd I §ajd: ‘Gov
ernor, he’s got the loveliest eyes you
ever saw,’ but I must-tfot taljc'this way,
for you ain’t in prison-povr.
He got up and stood with, his face
turned toward the door. “J'urast go,’
he said.
“Are you going very far away?"
“No."
“How far?”
“I am going to stay herejuntil I prove
to you that your mercy—” ;
“Excuse me," interrupted the jailer,
stepping into the doorway, “but j - ou
are no longer shut up.”
“But ho can stay to dinner, can’*
he, papa?"
“No, he’d better go.” «
frowned upon by women, now that he
had the disgrace of murder ^without the
romance of hanging. He 'did not at
tempt to see Ruth, and hod sent her
AT CHAMPION CITY. j
>di Cbrklmu Blowout la the Spread j
Ragle Theater.
HERE were sev- j
eral unique fea
tures connect
ed with the ob
servation of one
Christmas eve
atChampion
City during the
time that I was
editing the
Clarion there,
and, I may add,
cutting hair in
the then pre
vailing s tyle,
dealing in hides
and pelts, lead
ing the choir,
selling land,
polling teeth with neatness and dis
patch, and otherwise making myself
useful as well as ornamental.
The Christmas tree was erected in
the Spread Eagle theater, and-there the
pride and chivalry of the settlement as
sembled at even-tide, and “bright the
lamps shone o’er fair women and brave
men," as I so appropriately remarked
in the succeeding issue of the Clarion.
At the conclusion of the regular pro
gramme, which Was interspersed with
impromptu fits by Rickety Wadkins,the
presents were distributed. I do not
now remember the character of any of
the gifts except those in which I was
personally interested. I distinctly re
call, however, that Col. Corkright, a
gentleman of the old school, who had
taken exception to one of my editorial
utterances, hung a neatly written invi
tation on the tree for me to call at his
office any time during the week and
have my nose pulled. I forgot to ac
cept, and three days later the colonel
called on me and made his word good.
Some eight months before, three san
guine souls in a neighboring town had
formed a copartnership for the purpose
of conquering the world anew with
liver pills. They purchased a double
column of advertising space in the
Clarion for six months, paying therefor
in advance and pills.
While their peculiar talents might
have Avon them renown in the days of
Alexander the Great, they were not* ap
preciated in the degenerate present,
and the pill syndicate collapsed in fir*
weeks, leaving me with several bushel*
of beautiful pills on hand. As they
were homeopathic pills and had never
beeix medicated, l won the gratitude oi
ny subscribers without taking any
CHRIST’S DAY.
Ii trumpets:
t BRING Y0tf A PRESENT WoW.”
word not to attempt'to see him. A de
tective came from a distance and after
a time an arrest was made. A man was
brought to trial, and the proofrvas so
strong that he was convicted; and,
given to frankness and the truth, he
acknowledged that he. had committed
the murder. Shortly aft*?,sentence had
been passed upon him het-rfarned to Al
freds, who stood near hta&t^nd said:
“I thought you suspcetc& me when I
brought your breakfast to you last
Christinas morning, nearly a year ago.”
It was another Christmas’ morning
and the day was bright. ;
“May f come in?" Alfreds stood in the
door.
“Oh, surely, if you are not afraid of
me."
He sprang toward her and caught her
hand. “I bring you a present now,” he
said, “the present of my soul.”
The jailer stepped into the doorway
and said: “Come on now, you young
folks. Dinner is ready.”
Opik Read.
CHRISTMAS EVE AT CHAMPION CITY.
risks when I made each a Christina*
gift of a box of pills.
. The entertainment concluded with
the partial hanging of paralytic John
Lanks by Dr. Slade. The physician
had but just learned of the discovery by
a Kansas City scientist of the efficacy
of partial hanging as a remedial agent
in the treatment of locomotor ataxia
and paralysis. He recognized that the
Christmas eve entertainment offered an
excellent opportunity for familiarizing
the public with this method of treat
ment and at the same time providing
them ,with a thrilling spectacle. Ac
cordingly, a temporary gallows was
erected on the stage, and upon this poor
Lanks was duly hanged while the
lights were turned down to a yellow
haze.
So realistic was this bit of acting
that even the little children shouted
their approbation. The experiment
was a signal success in every particular
except that it seemed to exercise no
beneficial effect whatever upon Mr.
Lanks.
Then we all went our several ways,
feeling, as I also appropriately re
marked in the Clarion, that “it had in-
indeed been good to be there."
*' ' Tom P. Mono an.
L PBOVERB TdR THE DAY.
CHICKEN SEASON IN DA11KKYTIIXE.
earth with so
genial a flame
as in the illu
mination of
own fireside; but there is a fine
compensation for absence from home
on tola brightest and best of anniversa
ries in finding oneself in the streets of
London on the eve of Christmas, a spec
tator and a part of the great Christmas
tide of expectant, happy, smiliug hu
manity flowing in counter currents
through Bond street, Ilolborn, the
Strand, and eddying and whirling
around Charing Cross; and when, with
heart warmed with the glow reflected
from thousands of sparkling faces, to
see this city of a million homes and u
thousand churches blaze forth with
Christmas lights from basement to roof,
from chancel to belfry, the mystic spell
of the anniversary becomes wondrous,
overwhelming, complete.
But when Christmas (lawns, one
should leave the bewildering maze of
this vast city for some old English vil
lage where the beauty and traditions ot
the day possess a cameo-like unity and
relief; and the farther this shrine is re
moved from the rush and roar of the
nineteenth century the sweeter will be
the flavor of the anniversary and the
more redolent of its old-time incense.
The village green, buttressed by the
ivied church and manse at one end, aud
the old hostelry and smithy forge ot
the other, the noble hall half visible in
its park, and ancient farmhouses
neighboring near, make up a mis en
scene for a charming Christmas that
cannot be surpassed. Watching the as
sembling worshipers flecking park and
green, you follow on, pause in God’s
Acre for a look at the old yew trees
and the billowy sod where the rude
forefathers of the hamlet sleep, and
. enter toe rough stone temple to whose
plain Interior tender and sympathetic
hands have lent a grace and freshness
with clusters and festoons of holly -and ;
mistletoe, and where Christmas has j
been sacredly celebrated for centuries \
save when Cromwell’s soldiers put j
down the “papistical” worship or dur- !
jing the pitiable War of tho Roses. Your ;
.mind dwells mainly in the misty past
.during the service, for Celts, Britons, !
'Saxons, Danes and Normans have knelt i
before you on this spot, many of them j
iunder this same roof, and do not the
rsymbols gathered from the remnants of
old Druidical groves blend the credo of •
the Christian with toe worship of Beil? i
As the day declines and you have
your choice between the hospitality of
Norman hall and tho festivities at some
old farmhouse wherei the Saxon dwells, j
hie then to the latter, for Christmas is I
but a play under the patronizing smiles
of rank and fashion, while in the soil-
imbedded home of toe descendant of
Celt or Saxon you shall sec the greatest ;
of Christian anniversaries celebrating
at the same hearth with the first of
pagan festivals (as you saw them com* :
memorated at the same morning altar) i
and each claiming the day in honor of j
its nativity. In the midst of the fete j
where hospitality reigns with glad u css ;
the carols are heard without and the \
door awlnga wide open for the singers.
In they troop, and as they chant of a ;
Saviour born this day in the cave of '
Bethlehem, and of peace on earth, good .
will to man, the blazing yule log of :
the sun worshipers illumines the room ’
with tidings of scarce less import, tell
ing that on this day the source of all
light and life has emerged from the
grave of the winter solstice to break
the icy bands of death and restore to
. man the fructifying spring, the ripen
ing summer and golden autumn.
I have chosen England for the loci of my
Christmas scenes, for there one is
brought into closer sympathy with the
spirit and traditions of this great dual
anniversary than in our modern
America.
Centuries ' before ' the shepherds
watched their flocks on the Syrian hills
in the dawn of the Christian era the
Egyptian pricsta had traced the zodiac
in the heavens and blazoned the 25tb
of December as the day of the deliver
ance of the sun from the darkness and
bands of the winter solstice, and for
centuries before the light of Christianity
burst forth from the grotto of Bethle
hem the fire altars of toe Orient, the
sun wheels of Germany and the yule
logs of Britain celebrated this day as
the resurrection of natnre from death
unto life. Does it detract from the
beauty and splendor of the Christian
holiday that all nature joins in its
hosannahs to that infinite and benign
Providence which heedeth the spar
row’s fall and the sun in its coarse
with the same care and solicitude that
ted from the angelic skies of
hem: “Peace on earth, good will
to man?" Geo. TV. Van Horne.
counted dead—
With special tenderness.
O bells of golden gladness, ring!
»t plenty flows,
•me worm nas gifts to surfeiting.
To-day our Brother Christ is King
e hearts Ho knoi
Charles Edges* Banka
A Slight Delay.
Mrs. 1‘inkerly—The boy has just
come with that lovely Christmas pres
ent I got for you to-day, dear. He Is
waiting in the hall now.
Pinkerly — How kind (kiss) and
thoughtful of you, dear. (Kiss, kiaa)
I am just dying to see what it is. (Im
patiently) Why don’t you have the boy
bring it up?
Mrs. l’inkerly (embarrassed)—Ths
fact is—er—darling, it has come C. O. IX
—Life.
n* Did Without it.
Miss Sweetser—Will ypu come up V
the Christmas gathering to-night? 1
shall be there.
Japk Reddy—With pleasure. Am |
expected to bring anything?
Miss Sweetser—No; but you might
fetch a spray of mistletoe.—Puck.
Ha Had Nothing; Left.
First Footpad— There is no use tack
ling that fellow.
Second Food pad—Why?
First Footpad—He’s been buying
Christmas presents all day.—Judge.
Clerk—I am very sorry; but w«
out of mistletoe.
Miss Kissam—Dear me! Isn’t there
anything to take its place?
Clerk—Well, madam; that depends
upon the man.—Puck.
“What arc you going to give Santa
Claus for Christmas?” asked auntie.
“I guess I’ll give him my stocking,**
answered May.
“Why, Santa Claus doesn’t care for
that,” auntie returned.
“Well,” said May, “then he can fill
It and give it back to me.”—Harper’s
Young People.
“It’s not, the right sort of feeling,
perhaps, but at Christmas I like to give
just as valuable presents as I receive."
“So do I. My wife is going to give
me a hundred-collar dressing gown,
and I am going to give her a hundred-
dollar check to pay for it.”—Life.
All Provided For.
Clara (arranging toe Christmas pres
ents)—We’U put mamma's pearl neck
lace here.
Dora—And Mable’s diamond earrings
here.
Clara—And George's gold watch here.
Dora—And Edith’s diamond bracelets
—what shall we do with them?
Clara—Lay them on the piano along- .
ride of papa’s Christinas card.—N. Y. '
Weekly. -
Only Toe WHlin*.
Generous Six-Year-Old—Papa, there’s
A poor little cripple next door that
hasn’t any use of his arms. I’d like to
give him for a Christmas present some
of the things I got last year.
Papa (with tears of parental pride in
his eyes)—So you shall, my boy—so you
shall! Give him that nice little dram
Aunt Mary sent yon.—Chicago Tribune.
Travers—Very poorly. I find I ant
obliged, as a matter of necessity, to.
$ive my creditors a Christmas dinner.—