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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.—