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By “ OUIDA
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“111? is too good a soldier to die. One
must do it for Franco.” she said to her
self in a kind of self apology. And as
she did it and bound the lance gash
close and bathed Ills breast, his fore
head. his hair, his beard, free fronrtlie
sand and (lie powder and the gore a
thousand changes swept over her mo
bile face. It was one moment soft and
flushed and tender as passion; it was
the next jealous, fiery, scornful, pale
and full cf impatient self disdain.
ITo was nothing to her! He was an
aristocrat, and she was a child of the
people. She had been besieged by
dukes and bad flouted princes. She
had borne herself in such gay liberty,
such vivacious freedom, such proud
and careless sovereignty — hah, what
was it to her whether this man lived
or died? if she saved hint, lie would
give her a low bow as lie thanked her.
thinking all the while of miladk And
yet there she staid and watched him.
She took some food, for she had bopn
fasting all day. Then she dropped
down before the Ore she had lighted
and in one of those soft, curled, kitten
like attitudes that were characteristic
of her kept her vigil over him.
She was bruised, still 1 , tired, longing
like a tired child to fall asleep. Iler
eyes felt hot as flame, her rounded,
supple limbs were aching, her throat
was sore with long thirst and the sand
that she seemed to have swallowed till
no draft of water or wine would take
the scorched, dry pain cut cf it. But.
as she had given up her fete day in the
hospital, so she sat now—as patient it
the self sacrifice as she was impatient
when the vivacious agility of her young
frame war longing for the frenzied de
lights of the dance or the battle. Ev
ery now and then, four or five times in
an hour, she gave him whom she tend
ed the soup or the wine that she kept
warm for him over the embers. He
took it without knowledge, sunk half
in lethargy, half in sleep, hut it kept
the life glowing in him which, without
She dr owed down before the fire.
it, might have perished of cold and ex
haustion as the chill and northerly
wind of the evening succeeded to the
heat of the day and pierced through
the canvas walls of the tent, it was
very bitter, more keenly felt because
cf the previous burning of tbe sun.
There was no cloak or covering to fling
over him. She took off her blue cloth
tunic and threw it across his chest and,
shivering despite herself, curled closer
to the little fire.
She did not know why she did it—he
was nothing to her—and yet she kept
herself wide awake through the dark
autumn night lest he should sigh and
stir and she not hear him.
“I have saved his life twice,” she
thought, looking at him. “Beware of
the third time, they say!”
He moved restlessly, and she went to
him. His fac-e was flushed now; his
breath came rapidly and shortly; there
was some fever on him. The linen was
displaced from his wounds. She dip
ped it again in water and laid the cool
ed bands on them. “Ah, bah! If 1
were not unsexed enough for this, how
would it he with you new?” she said in
cor teeth, lie tossed wearily to and
fro. I.'tAackod words caught her ear
as he muttered them:
"Let it he; let it be! He is welcome!
How could I prove it at his cost? I
saved hint. I could do that. It was
not much”—
She listened with intent anxiety to
hear the ether whispers c-ntling the
sentence, but they were stifled and
broken.
“Listen!” she murmured below her
breath, “it is for some other he has
ruined himself.”
She could not catch the words that
followed. They were in an unknown
language to her, for she knew nothing
of English, and they poured fast and
obscure from his ftps as he moved in
feverish unrest; the wiiie had saved
him from exhaustion, inflaming his
brain in bis slc-ep. Now and then
French phrases crossed the English
ones. She leaned down to seize their
meaning till her cheek was against his
forehead, till her lips touched his hair,
and at that half caress her heart beat,
her face flushed, her month trembled
with a too vivid joy, with an impulse,
half fear and half longing, that had
never so moved her before.
“If I had my birthright,” he mur
mured in her own tongue—“if I had it,
would she look so cold then? She might
love me—women used once. O God,
If she had not looked on me I had
never known all I have lost!”
Cigarette started as if a knife had
stabbed her and sprang up from her
rest beside him.
“She—she—always she!” she mutter
ed fiercely, whiie her face grew duski
ly scarlet in the fire glow of the tent,
and she went slowly away, back to the
low wood fire.
This was to be ever her reward.
Her eyes glistened and flashed with
the fiery, vengeful passions of her hot
and jealous instincts, yet she did not
leave him.
She was too generous for that. “What
is right is right. lie is a soldier of
France,” she muttered, while she kept
her vigil. lie did not waken from the
painful, delirious, stupefied slumber
that had fallen oil him. lie only
vaguely felt that he was suffering pain;
he only vaguely dreamed of what he
murmured—his past and the beauty of
the woman who had brought all the
memories of that past back to him.
And this was Cigarette’s reward—to
bear him mutter wearily of the proud
eyes and of the lost smile of another!
The dawn came at last. Her con
stant care and the skill with which she
had cooled and dressed his wounds had
done him infinite service. The fever
had subsided, and toward morning his
incoherent words ceased, his breathing
grew calmer and more tranquil. He
fell asleep—sleep that was profound,
dreamless and refreshing.
She looked at him with a tempestu
ous shadow darkening her face that
yet was soft with a tenderness that i
she could not banish. She hated him.
She ought to have stabbed or shot him.
rather than have tended him thus. He
neglected her and only thought of the
woman of his old order. As a daughter
of the people, as a child of the army, as
a soldier of France, she ought to have
killed him rather than have caressed
his hair and soothed his pain.
Then gently, very gently, lest shej
should waken him, she took her tunic j
skirt with which she had covered him |
from the chills of the night, put more j
broken wood on the fading fire and |
with a last lingering look at him where j
he slept passed out from the tent as the j
sun rose in a flushed and beautiful i
dawn.
‘He will never know,” she said to I
Anglophobist. “I understand. Thou
art very right. Cigarette. If wc have
ever obliged an Englishman, he thinks
his obligation to us opens him a neat
little door through which to cheat us.
11 is very dangerous to oblige the Eng
lish. They always hate you for it.
That is their way.”
“He is safe,” thought Cigarette, and
she made her way toward the place
where she had left him, to see how it
went with this man whom she was so
| careful should never know that which
he had owed to her. It went well with
him, thanks to her. Care and strength
ening nourishment and the skill of her
| attendance had warded off all danger
! from his wound.
| “How goes the day, M. Victor? So
: you got sharp scratches. I hear? Ah,
that was a splendid thing we had yes
terday! When did you go down? We
charged together!” she cried gayly to
him. Then her voice dropped sudden
ly, with an indescribable sweetness
and change of tone. “So you suffer
still?” she asked softly.
Coming close up to where he lay on
the straw, she saw the exhausted lan
guor of his regard, the heavy darkness
under his eyelids, the effort with which
his lips moved as the faint words came
broken through them.
“Not very much, my dear, I thank
you. I shall be fit for harness in a day
or two. Do not lot them send me into
hospital. I shall be perfectly—well-
soon.”
Cigarette swayed herself upon the
wheel and loaned toward him, touching
and changing his bandages with flever
hands.
“They have dressed your wound ill.
Whose doing is that?”
“It is nothing. I have been half cut
to pieces before now. This is a mere
bagatelle. It is only”—
“That it hurts you to breathe? I
know. Have they given you anything
to eat this morning?”
“No. Everything is in confusion.
We”—
She did not stay for the conclusion
of his sentence. She had darted off
quick as a swallow. Of the few hun
dreds that had been left after the ter
rific onslaught of the past day some
were employed far out thrusting their
own dead into the soil; others were re
moving the tents and all the equipage
of the camp; others were busied with
the wounded, of whom the greatest suf
ferers were to be borne to the nearest
hospital (that nearest many leagues
away over the wild and barren coun
try), while those who were likely to he
again soon ready for service were to be
escorted to the headquarters of the
main army. Among the latter Cecil
had passionately entreated to be num
bered. His prayer was granted to the
man who had kept at the Lead of his
chasseurs and borne aloft the tricolor
through the whole of the war tempest
on which the dawn had risen and which
had barely lulled and sunk by the set
ting of the sun. Cbateauroy was away
with the other five of his squadrons,
and the zouave major, the only officer
of any rank who had come alive through
the conflict, had himself visited Bertie
and given him warm words of eulogy
and even of gratitude that had soldier
ly sincerity and cordiality in thorn.
“Your conduct was magnificent,” he
had said, as lie had turned away. “It
shall be my care that it is duly re
ported and rewarded.”
Cigarette was but a few seconds
absent; she scon hounded back like
the swift little chamois she was, firiug-
! ing with her a huge bowlful of red
wine with broad broken in it.
“This is the best I could get,” she
said; “it is better than nothing. It
will strengthen you.”
“What have you had yourself, little
one?”
“Ah, bah! Leave off thinking for
others; I breakfasted long ago,” she
answered him. (She had only eaten a
biscuit well nigh as hard as a flint.)
“Take it—here. I will hold it for you.”
She perched herself on the wheel
like a bird cn a twig; she had a bird’s
power of alighting and sustaining her
self on the most difficult and most
airy elevation; but Cecil turned his
eyes on the only soldier in the cart
besides himself, one of the worst men
in his regiment—a murderous, sullen,
black browed, evil wretch, fitter for
the bench of the convict galley than
uiein, aim. tossing on the dry. h’ot
straw, they grew delirious, some fail
ing asleep and murmuring incoherent
ly, others lying with wide open eyes of
half senseless, straining misery. Ciga
rette came to the side of the tempora
ry ambulance, in which Cecil was plac
ed. He was asleep—sleeping for once
peacefully, with little trace of pain
upon Ills features, as he had slept the
previous night. She saw that his face
and chest had not boon touched by the
stinging insect swarm, lie was dou
bly screened by a shirt hung above him
dexterously on some bent sticks.
“Who has done that?” thought Ciga
rette. As she glanced round she saw
without any linen to cover him Zac-
krist had reared, himself up and leaned
slightly forward over against his com
rade. The shirt that protected Cecil
was his, and on his own bare shoul
ders and mighty chest the tiny armies
of the flies and gnats were fastened,
doing their will uninterrupted.
As he caught her glance a sudden
ruddy glow of shame shone through
the black, hard skin cf his sunburned
visage—shame to which he had never
been touched when discovered in any
one of his guilty and barbarous actions.
“Ugh!” he growled savagely. “He
gave me his wine. One must do some
thing in return; not that I feel the in
sects—not l; my skin is leather, see
you; they can’t get through it. but his
is white and soft—hah—like tissue pa
per.”
“I see, Zaekrist. You are right. A
French soldier can never take a kind
ness from an English fellow without
outrunning him in generosity. Look,
here is some drink for you.”
She knew too well the strange na
ture with which she had to deal to say
a syllable of praise to him for his self
devotion or to appear to see that, de
spite his boast of his leather skin, the
stings of the cruel winged tribes were
drawing his blood and causing him
alike pain and irritation which, under
that sun and added to the torment cf
his gunshot wound, were a martyrdom
as great as the noblest saint ever en
dured.
And all through the march she gave
Zaekrist a double portion of her water
dashed with red wine, that was so wel
come and so precious to the parched and
aching throats, and all through the
herself as she passed through the dis
ordered camp and in a distant quarter j £ Franks o7 the eavalrv.
coded herself among the hay of a for- , iiGive ha]f to Zackrist » he sai(1 .
age wagon and. covered up in dry grass 1
like a bird in a nest, let her tired limbs
lie and her aching eyes close in repose.
She was very tired, and every now and
then as she slept a quick, sobbing
breath shook her as she slumbered like
a wornout fawn that has been wound
ed while it played.
1
more
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Send for our free booklet.
the BRAOFIELD REGULATOR C*' , Atlanta, Ga.
<ȴ 1 *V I
CHAPTER XIV.
ITH the reveille and the break
of morning Cigarette woke,
herself again. She gave a lit
tle petulant shake to her fairy
form when she thought of what folly
she had been guilty. “Ah, bah, you de
serve to be shot!" she said to herself
afresh. “One would think you were a
silver pheasant, you grow such a little
foci!"
Her first thought was to take care
that he should never learn what she
had done for him. The Princess Coro
na would not have more utterly dis
dained to solicit regard through mak
ing a claim upon gratitude than the
fiery little warrior of France would
have done. She went straight to the
Tringlo. who hatL kuown her at her
mission of mercy.
“Have a hoed. Georges, never to
whisper that 1 had anything to do ;
with saving that man 1 called to you :
about.” she said.
“And why, my little one?”
“Because I desire you,” said Ciga- !
rette. with her most imperious etnpha- I
sis. “They say he is English and a j
mined milord. Now. I would not have
an Englishman think I thought his
six feet of carcass worth saving for a
ransom.”
The Tringlo chuckled. He was an
“I wish to truthfully state to you
and the readers of these few lines
that your Kodol Dyspepsia Cure fs
Aphout question, the bpst and only
cure for dyspepsia that. I have ever
come in contact, with ami I have
ii'-ed many other preparations.
John Beam, West Middlesex. P.\”
No preparation equals Kodol Dys
pepsia Cure as it contains all the
natural digestants. It will digest
all kinds of food and can’t help but
do you good. h. b. McMaster.
know no hunger, and he has
need of it.”
“Zaekrist! That is the man who stole
your lance and accouterments, and got
you into trouble by taking them to
pawn in your name, a year or more
ago.”
“Well, what of that? ne is not the
less hungry.”
“What of that? Why, you were going
to be disgraced for the affair, because
you would not tell of him, if Vireflou
had not found out the rights of the
matter in time!”
“What has that to do with it?”
“This, M. Victor—that you are a
fool.”
“I dare say I am. But that does not
make Zaekrist less hungry.”
He took the bowl from her hands,
and emptying a little of it into the
wooden cup that huug to her belt, kept
that for himself, and, stretching his
arm across the straw, gave the bowl to
Zaekrist, who had watched it with
the longing, ravenous eyes of a starv
ing wolf, and seized it with rabid
avidity.
A smile passed over Cecil’s face,
amused despite the pain he suffered.
“That is one of my ‘sensational
tricks.’ as M. de Cbateauroy calls
them. Poor Zaekrist! Did you see his
eyes?”
Cigarette shrugged her shoulders in
silence; then, poising herself on the
wheel, she sprang from thence cn to
J the back of her little mare which she
had brought up. having the reins in
one of her hands and the wine bowl in
I the other, and which was fresh and
bright after the night's repose.
“I will ride with you, with my spa-
his,” she said as a young queen might
have promised protection from her es
cort. He thanked her and sank back
among the straw, exhausted and worn
»>ut with pain and with languor. The
weight that seemed to oppress his chest
was almost as hard to hear as when the
actual pressure of his dead charger’s
body had been cn him.
Four other troopers were placed on
the straw beside him, and the mule
carts, with their mournful loads, rolled
slowly out of camp eastward toward
the quarters of the main army. Gnats
and mosquitoes and all the winged
things of the African air tprm^gted
Gave the bowl to Zaekrist.
march Cecil lay asleep, and the man
who had thieved from him, the man
whose soul was stained with murder
and pillage and rapine, sat erect be
side him, letting the insects suck his
veins and pierce his flesh.
It was only when they drew near the
camp of the main army that Zaekrist
beat off the swarm and drew his old
shirt over his head.
“You do not want to say anything to
him,” he muttered to Cigarette. “1
am of leather, you know; I have not
felt it.”
And she dashed the spurs into her
mare and galloped off at the height of
her speed into camp—a very city of
canvas, buzzing with the hum of life,
regulated with the marvelous skill
and precision of French warfare, yet
with the carelessness and the pictur
esqueness of the desert life pervading
it.
What she had done had been told
long before by an orderly riding hard
in the early night to take the news of
the battle, and the whole best was on
watch for its darling, the savior of the
honor of France. Like wave rushing
on wave of some tempestuous ocean
the rueu swept out to meet her in one
great surging tide of life, impetuous,
passionate, idolatrous, exultant, with
all the vivid ardor, all the uncontrolled
emotion, of nature south born, sun nur
tured. As her soldiers had done the
night before, so these did now—kissin
her hands, her dress, her feet, sending
her name in thunder through the sunlit
air, lifting her from off her horse and
bearing her in a score of stalwart arms
triumphant in their midst.
She was theirs—their own—the child
of the army, the little one whose voice
above their dying brethren had the
sweetness of an angel’s song and whose
feet in their hours of revelry flew like
the swift and dazzling flight of gold
winged orioles. And she had saved
the honor of their eagles; she had given
to them and to France their god of vic
tory.
“It was nothing,” she answered them
—“it was nothing. It was for France.”
For France! They shouted back the
beloved word with tenfold joy, and the
great sea of life beneath her tossed to
and fro in stormy triumph, in frantic
paradise of victory, ringing her name
with that of France upon the air in
thunder shouts like spears of steel
smiting on shields of bronze.
But she stretched her hand out and
swept it backward to the desert border
of the south with a gesture that had
awe for them.
“Hush!” she said softly, with an ac
cent in her voice that hashed the riot
of their rejoicing homage till it lulled
like the lull in a storm. “Give me no
honor while they sleep yonder. With
the dead lies the glory!”
CHAPTER XY.
HREE weeks after the battle
of Zaraila Cigarette, in con-
versation with Cecil, had been
scoring England.
“We talk of Albion—there is one of
her sons,” she said suddenly. “I de
test your country; but, my faith, l
must confess she breeds uncommonly
handsome men.”
She was a dilettante in handsome
men. She nodded her head now to
where, some yards off, at another of
the campfires stood, with some officers
of the regiment, one of the tourists—a
very tail, very fair man, with a gal
lant bearing and a tawny beard that
glittered to gold in the light of the
flames.
Cecil's glance followed Cigarette’s.
With a cry he sprang to his feet and
stood entranced, gazing at the stran
ger. She saw the startled amaze, the
longing love, the agony of recognition,
in his eyes. She saw the impulse in
him to spring forward and the shud
dering effort with which the impulse
was controlled. He turned to her al
most fiercely.
“He must uot see mo! Keep him
away—away, for God’s sake!”
He could not leave his men. He was
fettered there where his squadron was
camped. He went as far as he could
from the flamelight into the shadow
and thrust himself among the tethered
horses. Cigarette asked nothing: com
prehended at a glance, with all the tact
of her cation, and sauntered forward
to meet the officers of the regiment as
they came up to the picket fire with
the yellow haired English stranger.
The eyes cf the stranger lighted on her.
and his voice laughed in mellow music
to his companions.
“Your intendance is perfect; your
ambulance is perfect: your camp cook
ery is perfect, messieurs, and here you
have even perfect beauty too. Truly
campaigning must be pleasant work in
Algeria.”
Then be turned to her with compli
ments frank and gay and full of a
debonair grace that made her doubt he
could be of Albion.
Retort was always ready to her, and
she kept the circle of officers in full
laughter round the vedette fire with
a shower of repartee that would have
made her fortune on the stage of the
Chatclet or Folios Marigr.y. And ev
ery now and then her glance wandered
to the shadow where the horses were
tethered.
Bah! Why was she always doing
him service? When they were quite
gone, she came softly t<> him. She
could not see him well in the gloom,
but she touched his hand.
“Dieu! How cold you are! He is
gone.”
He could not answer her to thank
her, but he crushed in his the little
warm, brown palm. She felt a quiver
shake his limbs.
“Is he your enemy?” she asked.
“No.”
“What then?”
“The man I love best on earth.”
“Ah’’ She had felt a surprise she
had not spoken that he should flee thus
from any foe. “He thinks you dead,
then?”
“Yes.”
“And must always think so?”
“Yes.” He held her hand still, and
his own wrung it hard, the grasp of
comrade to comrade, not of man to
woman. “Child, you are hold, gener
ous, pitiful; for God’s sake, get me
sent out of this camp tonight. I am
pow erless.”
There was that in the accent which
struck his listener to the heart, ne
was powerless, fettered hand and foot
as though he were a prisoner: a night’s
absence, and he would be shot as a
deserter. “I will try.” said Cigarette
simply, without anything of her au
dacity or of her vanity in the answer.
“Go you to the fire! You are cold.”
“You have ingenuity, compassion,
tact: you have power hero, too, in your
way: for the love of heaven, get me
sent out on some duty before dawn!
There is Biribi’s murder to be
avenged—would they give the errand
to me?”
She thought a moment.
“We will see,” she said curtly. “I
think 1 can do it. But go back, or you
will be missed. I will come to you
soon.”
Slie left him then, drawing her hand
quickly out of the clasp of ills.
Cecil mechanically returned to the
fire at which the men of his company
were cooking their welcome supper
aud sat down near them, rejecting with
a gesture the most savory ' portion
which with their customary love and
care for him they were careful to se
lect and bring to him. He sat like a
man in a dream, while the loosened
tongues of the men ran noisily on a
hundred themes as they chaffed each
other.
• “He said once that he would take my
hand before all the world always, come
what would,” ho thought. “Would lie
take it now, I wonder? Yes; he never
believed against me.”
And as he thought the same anguisli
of desire that had before smitten him
to stand once more guiltless in the
presence of men and once more bear
untarnished the name of hie race and
the honor of his fathers shook him
now as strong winds shake a tree that
yet is fast rooted at its base, though it
sway awhile beneath tlie storm.
“How weak I am!” he thought bit
terly. “What does it matter? Life is
so short, one is a coward indeed to fret
over it. I cannot undo what I did. 1
cannot if I would. To betray him nowi
God, not for a kingdom if I had the
chance! Besides, she may live still.
And even were she dead, to tarnish hoi
name to clear my own would be n
scoundrel’s baseness — baseness that
would fail as it merited. For whe
could bo brought to believe me now?”
As he sat with his head bent dowD
and his forehead leaning on his arm,
while the hard biscuit that served for
a plate stood unnoticed beside him with
the foed that the soldiers had placed
on it. he did not hear Cigarette’s step
till she touched him on the arm. Then
he looked up. Her eyes were looking
on him with tender, earnest pity.
“nark, I have done it.” she said gen
tly. “But it will he an errand very
close to death that you must go on”—
lie raised himself erect eagerly.
“No matter for that. Ah, mademoi
selle, how can I thank you?”
[tc be continued.]
Large Pocking Plant Burns.
Wichita, Kan., Juiv H- —The pack
ing plant of JacolPDoli & Sons of this
city was tota’iy destroyed by tire today.
There were lour large building.-. Ic is
estimated that 7,000,000 pounds of meat
in process of preparation were destroyed.
Tiie loss is §650^000, with insurance of
about 1400,000. One wall fell, injuring
four men, tat not fatally. Three hun
dred and fifty men are thrown out of
wi rk. The loss is now estimated at
ilt'0,000. It is said the plant will be re
built at once. The fire originated in the
lardhonse, supposedly from spontaneous
combustion.
’I'C'Wfeuey Offers Reward.
Charleston, July 16.—Governor Mc-
Sweeney has offered a reward of §100
for the arrest of Isaac Tcomer, alias
Sonny Toomor, the negro desperado who
shot and killed John Aiiten, in Mount
street, on July 2. The shoctiug was so
deliberate and coldblooded that the at
tention of rhe governor was called to it
and a reward was promptly offered.
of Dr. Maddux.
Monticf.lt/:>, Ga., July 23.—Dr. \y
D. Maddux, one of Monticello’s olue.-r
aud most i>rraiment citizens, died ves.
terday after an illness of several months
Dr. Maddux had practiced medicine for
over 59 years. He was one of the char
ter members of the Georgia Medical as
sociation. ami is said to be the oldest
practitioner in the state.
l.o-t ’ ariaer Turns Up.
Tennille, Ga., July 24.—Dave Den-
ton, the Glascock county farmer who so
mysteriously disapoeared from his home
near Gibson, several days ago, has re
turned home. Demon says that he has
been on a visit to relatives in Alabama
and that it was his impression that his
wife and iriends knew where ho w» s
RHEUMATISM and CATARRH CORED
BY
Johnston’s
Sarsaparilla
QUART BOTTLES.
!H THE SHADOW OF DEATH.
MR, ALLEN’S SUCCESSOR.
Secretary Hunt- Will Me Named Gov-
er.nn' of Doric Rico.
Washington, July 23.—W. H. Hunt,
the present secretary cf Porto Rico,
has been selected to succeed Governor
Cnaries II. Allen, on the retirement of
the latter from, the insular government.
Governor Alien brought with him to
Boston ail of his housenold effects when
he came from San Juan and he does not
exr>ect to return to Porto Rico.
The formal selection of Mr. Hunt was
withhold until the regular appointment
was made and this could not be made
utiril the expiration of Governor Allen’s
leave of absence.
toll on uuman cure-.! In *0 minutes bv
Woolford’s sanitary Lotion. This never tails
Hold hy K. B.MeMaster, Druggist.
A Whole Family Cured.
Mrs. C. n. Kingsbury, who keeps a
millinery and fancy goods store at St.
Louis, Gratiot Co., Mich., and who is
well known throughout the country,
says:
“ I was badly troubled with rheuma
tism, catarrh and neuralgia. I had
liver complaint and was very bilious. I
v/as in a bad condition; every day I be
gan to fear that I should never be a
well woman; that I should have to
settle down into a chronic invalid, and
live in the shadow of death. I had
JOHNSTON’S SARSAPARILLA rec
ommended to me. I TOOK FOUR
BOTTLES AND IT CURED ME, and
cured my family both. I am very glad
that I heard of it. I would cheerfully
recommend it to every one. I have
taken many other kinds of medicine.
I prefer JOHNSTON’S to all of them.’’
MICHIGAN BHUG CO., Detroit, Mich,
For sa!e hy H. B. *sTKI», Waynesboro, (Li.
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Distillers cf PURE CORN
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Guaranteed quail tv and proof, per Gal ?! 50.
iid Beer, JSS]?” JUG TRADE OF BURKE Soileiti
KEARSEY k PLUMB,
12U9 Broad Street, AUGUSTA. GA.
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AUGUSTA
Dental Parlors,
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rtISLKtS I1KNTKTKY
rst P: ices -\ 11 Work Guaran'eed
Crown and Bridge Work u Specialty.
POORE & WOODBURY,
821 Broad St., Augusta, Georgi l.
Beil Phone, 521.
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On improved Farms
in Burke aod Jefferson Counties.
No Commissions. Lowest Rates.
Long time or installments.
ALEXANDER & JOHNSON,
705 Broad Street,
AUOUSTA, OA..
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. FURNITURE !!
We have the largest and best stock o-
Furniture ever brought to Augusta, and oar
prices are as low as the lowest. Elegant
PARLOB “ d CHAMBER SETS,
_^ —lTir qgjrria secretaries, book cases, -
4 Couches, Sideboards. Bedsteads
- • ' i • •• ' > ’
, : ttr /j & BUREAUS, WASHSTANDS,
- Rocking Chairs, Straight Chairs,
IRON BEDS 13.75 UP. Mattings. Rugs, Etc,
Each department iu our business is full and complete, and every article is the very beL
that can be had for tbe money. YVe do not hesitate to assert that no other Furniture house
is quite so lull of beauty, elegance aud style as ours. When in Augusta be sure to call aud
see us.
FLEMING Ac JBOWI^ES,
904 Broad Slreet. AUGUSTA. GA
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Bank Charter Issued.
Montgomery, Ala., July 24.—Decla
ration of incorporation of rhe Citizens’
Bank of Geneva has been filed with the
secretary of state and a charter was is
sued. The capital stock of the new
bank is §50,000 and the incorporators
are Graves Tatum, J. J. Johnson and
D. H. Morris.
Lightning Strikes Mill Owner.
Colquitt, Ga., July 23.—A. J. Cow
art, while at his sawmill, was struck by
lightning yesterday and is not expected
to li ve.
Dr. CaMweli’s Syrup Pepsin cures
domach trouble.
Sold by h B M Master, Waynes
boro; H. Q. Bell, Miilen,
J$|
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C»8M0»THE»am«BD»PHiiRaflST j»l
For your Gar
den Seed, On
ion Sets, Early
Rose and Bliss
Irish Potatoes.
We have just
received a
fresh supply of
D. M. Ferry &
Co’s Seeds.
They are noted for putting up the most reli
able Seed sold. Their seed are always fresh
and gives the best results. Orr prices are
as low as the lowest.
olso remember we carry a complefe
line f DRUGS and everything generally
kept in a first-class Drug Store.
We have a competent Druggist who has
had 15 years experience.
BUXTON &HAESELER,
GIRARD. GEORGIA.
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