Newspaper Page Text
<Ihtt gcrald and ^dtr^rfiscr.
Newnan, Ga., Friday, Jan. 27, 1888.
"Written forTHE Hhk.u.d and Advertiser.
MUSETTE.
By Mrs. Bailie B. Boulstone.
“Please excuse me to-day, mother
dear, 1 am not in a church-going mood.
I feel restless nnd impatient, and will
saunter down to the ‘Glen,’ while you
are offering a prayer for your wayward
son, eh ?”
“I am sorry, Tom, that I cannot in
duce you to go, as Dr. Maynard, of A—,
fills our pulpit to-day, and I am sure
you would enjoy him ; then, too, there
is that sweet feeling of perfect peace
and comfort when you are seated by me
in the family, pew, that is sadly lonely
without you. That same pew, my son,
has been in the Granville family for
generations past, and it is my desire
that it shall remain in it, as long as
there is one of the name. So, you
won’t go, dear?”
“Just this once, mother chere, let
me off, and I will do penance by being
your most devoted the balance of the
day. Ta-ta !” and Tom Granville ten
derly handed his mother into the
family carriage, and, gallantly kissing
her dainty, gloved hand, lifted his hat
courteously, for he loved her with
the most sacred devotion.
Tom Granville, (Doctor Tom, for he
was a freshly emerged disciple of iEs-
culapius) on this bright, Sabbath morn
ing, with his fine physique, health
beaming form, his clear blue eye, was a
positive contradiction to his restless,
uneasly feeling, for which he could not
account.
Drawing out a cigarette, lighting it
and placing it between his lips, he
wended his way to the “Glen”—more
familiarly known to the village people
as the mineral spring.
“What is it ! what is it, Musette !”
he suddenly ejaculated, as he patted
his little terrier’s head, who was whin
ing and wagging her tail in the most
excited manner. She pricked up
her ears, and started off, constantly
looking back, as if to attract his atten
tion to some object before her. Rapid
ly, Doctor Tom followed in her wake,
ascending and descending the steep
steps on either side of the embankment,
until he came in sight of the ‘Glen.’
Suddenly Musette stopped by the little
pavilion enclosing the spring, turning
toward her master with appealing eyes.
Still, the object of her excitement was
not visible, but Tom eagerly followed.
Leading down to the spring was a flight,
of steps, and he now stood on the top
one, looking down on the object of the
little dog’s anxious demonstration:
“J3y Jove ! you did not mislead me,
Musette !” he exclaimed, for there ly
ing before him, prone upon the stone
floor, was a black-robed figure, her
white face upturned, her fair hair
broken from its confines and falling in
heavy waves to her waist, the long
lashes sweeping the soft, round cheeks.
Instantly Doctor Tom was by her side,
bending his ear for signs of life, but
failing, placed his hand upon her little
wrist,' when he was gladdened by a
faint pulsation. It. was the work of
a moment to fill his straw hat with the
clear, spring water and bathe her pale
face, smoothing the soft hair from the
blue-veined temples, saying to himself,
“It is wondrous fair.” The lids still
remained closed, and the form motion
less. After repeated efforts, Doctor
Tom was rewarded by the color coming
faintly into the cheek, the quiver of
the eye-lids and the eyes languidly
opening, and gazing about with wild
ularm she suddenly cried :
“Oh, let me die : I can’t bear it !”
and tears burst from the dark eyes.
Tom wisely let the violent emotion
spend itself, ere he ventured to ad
dress her. The sobs finally ceased and
she attempted to arise, gathering her
shining .hair in her hands as if to con
fine it again, when she gave a cry of
pain, a look of anguish coming into
her face. •
“Are you in pain ? Do allow me to
help you,” stammered Tom, anxiously,
“My ankle—I must have sprained it;
I can’t stand it,” she replied, slowly
looking into Tom’s handsome face for
the first time.
* ‘How long have you been here?
Something must be done to relieve
you,” ventured he again, gazing at the
fair girl.
“Oh, sir, I don’t know. I was so tired,
so thirsty, and I saw this cool, clear
spring, and in my haste to reach it,
fell and hurt my ankle, and the pain
was so intense I must have fainted; for
I knew no more until you bathed Aiy
face so kindly, and oh, sir, you are so
good. I can never repay you.”
“Xot one syllable of that. Rut for
my faithful little Musette, I should
never have known of your sad acci
dent,” lie returned, as he patted the
dog’s head, as she stood, wagging her
tail, looking up into his face.
The suffering girl turned toward
Musette, and said : “True and faithful
little friend, why can’t the human
creature be as loyal ?” half aloud to
herself. Meantime Doctor Tom watch
ed admiringly the sweet face, and won-
tiered wliat could there be of sorrow in
her life, then said :
“Now, I shall leave Musette with you
—she’s a faithful little guard-while I
get a conveyance to take you to a place
where you can have the proper atten
tion,” and he started from her.
“Oh, no sir, do not! do not, I I am a
stranger, aud you know not who jou
kre taking to some pure, refined Home,
where they would shun me as a viper.
Rut”—passing her hand across her
brow in a confused manner—“I am in
nocent, yes, pure as your mother or
sister. 1 could not help it—I did not
know”—she muttered, to herself, her
face the picture of despair.
“You know not what you say ; you
are not well. I will assist you. \ ou
will not be afraid to stay with Musette
until I return ?”
“No, no, but”
“lie did not remain to hear her
words, hut hastened away, and a short
time afterwards was seated in a phaeton
driving rapidly towards the spring ; but
when he reached the pavilion, his pa
tient was nowhere to be seen, and
he sprang in alarm from the vehicle,
and looked here and there, but no signs
of the young girl were visible.
“Poor girl, she is in some sore distress,
and her mind must be wandering. Her
face is one of innocence and purity, and
I shall befriend her, be she what she
may,” said he with fervor. Presently
Musette came barking toward him—at
the same time he, spying a speck of
snowy linen, and hastening toward it,
found behind a large tree his charge,
crouched down in the smallest possible
space, her face pale and pinched with
pain.
“You are a naughty, disobedient pa
tient,” said Tom, with mock reproof.
“Don’t you know it is very imprudent
to move about on that sprained ankle?
Come, come ! you are now my patient
and must obey orders,” continued he,
cheerily.
“Yes, but how can I repay you?”
“I want no pay, my little patient, but
strict obedience to orders. I have
brought a phfeton and you must come
with me, and I will soon have you com
fortably ensconced, where you can have
the necessary attention and care. Now,
I will not take no. You must obey your
physician, for,” with a smile, “lam the
fortunate, or unfortunate, possessor of
an M. D. to my name. Tom Granville,
at your service, and your most humble
servant,” with mock dignity. Without
waiting for a reply, he took her ten
derly in his strong arms, carried her to
the vehicle, and placing her in it, then
Musette, sprang in, and soon had her
in his own home, comfortably placed
in bed by the maid, and when his
mother returned from church she
found this charge in the hands of the
old family physician, who was binding
and treating the sprained limb, finally
administering a light opiate, with in
structions, “to rest and keep perfectly
quiet.”
Mrs. Granville was instantly inter
ested in the unfortunate patient, aud
particularly after the detailed account
given by her son, whose pleasure was
hers, whose interests were hers also.
She soothed and symathized, as only a
mother could.
CHAPTER II.
Day after day sped by, and the fair
patient was able to be about. Down
on the vine-covered piazza ; in the cool,
dainty sitting room; in the elegant,
luxurious library ; with Mrs. Granville
her constant and devoted companion,
with Doctor Tom most frequently as
third party—for this fair stranger had
walked straight into the hearts of one
and all, the old doctor and servants not
excepted—and her name, Agnes Claire,
had already become a household charm,
as had its bearer, beloved and revered.
Not a syllable relative to the strange
and incoherent sentences uttered by
her on the day of her misfortune had
ever been referred to, and she was as
much the mysterious stranger as the
first day she entered “Homeword.”
Tom was daily revolving in his mind
the singular allusions she had made, and
was fighting earnestly against the wild
infatuation that had seized him from
the first, for her sweet image had from
that memorable day swept his heart
strings with a magic and fatal touch,
until he now felt that there was aught
in life without Agnes Claire. Doctor
Tom had been reading to her from
Browning and Tennyson, as she sat in
her pure white muslin, in the vine-cov
ered porch, and he thought as he gazed
at her this clear June evening, as the
golden sunset threw its soft halo over
the earth, that never in all his twenty-
seven years had he seen so fair a pic
ture of feminine beauty. His heart
had gone out to her freely, unreserv
edly, and lie knew now that she was
dearer to him than all else in life. His
eyes spoke the most eloquent emotions,
and his heart seemed bursting with the
weig. t of his great love, and unable
longer to control it said, as he drew
near to her :
“I am so happy that you are getting
well and looking cheerful, for Agnes,
my ”
“Don’t, don’t, I pray you !” she in
terrupted excitedly, her cheeks scarlet
with blushes, then blanching deadly
pale, for she divined what he would
say. Seeing his look of pain and dis
tress she said hurriedly:
"You must hear all my past, Doctor
Granville, which I will tell this very
eveiling, then”—and she looked straight
into liis earnest eyes—“if you care to
tell me what you now desire, I will
listen, oh, so happily 1 and the deli-
icate pink showed itself again in the
soft cheek, and the dimples chased
each other in chaotic glee about the
sweet mouth.
“I care nothing for your past, for I
know that I but she placed her
hand over his mouth and said : “Not
another word that you would recall
when you know all,” and she vanished
: through the library door, leaving only
a faint odor of s^eet violet^ as she dH-
appearea.
Doctor Granville seized his hat, and
lighting a cigarette, (his panacea for all
perplexities) went out into the spacious
grounds, confused thoughts running in
perplexed order through his brain. As
lie passed her window a little slip of
paper fluttered down to his feet, on .
which was written in a cultured hand : j
“Meet me in the ‘Glen’ at tw light and I ;
will tell you all. A.” j
His heart throbbed with delight, for j
he felt that there was nothing in the !
wide world that could tear her from
him, let her narrative be what it would.
Visions of her sitting beside him, tell
ing of her sad past, in her sweet, ir
resistible voice, flashed through his
head, and he could scarce bide the time
till he should meet her. At dinner Mrs.
Granville seemed the only one inclined
to talk, and Alice was deferentially at
tentive, never allowing her eyes once
to meet those of her lover, fearing he
should read her secret and the happi
ness it imprinted on her face.
A friend called to drive Mrs. Gran
ville out, and soon after her departure
Agnes strolled down to the “Glen.”
As she reached it her appreciative eve
could not fail to note the beauty of
that lovely retreat. The sparkling
water of the crystal spring ; the crim
son glow of the dying sunset, as it
bathed the whole scene with its mel
low light ; the clear running brook,
and the wide spreading trees, which
cast their long shadows on the smooth
greensward. She seated herself in the
little pavilion, and gave herself up to
the sweetest of reveries, and a silent
prayer to Him above for giving her so
much happiness. Thus she sat- await
ing her lover, when the sound of foot
steps broke the silence, and her heart
began a most tumult nous throbbing, as
she heard them draw nearer and near
er ; then two strong arms were about
her, and a deep voice said :
“Aggie, dear Aggie, have I indeed
found you at last!” and warm kisses
were pressed upon cheek and mouth,
and her arms were twined about the
intruder’s neck as he said :
“Oh, darling sister, I am free ! Am
innocent! so you need not run away
from me again.”
“Hush ! hush, Jack, I never believed
vou guilty ; hut they took you from
me so cruelly, so basely.”
As she was clasped closely in the em
brace of her brother, she heard Mu
sette’s joyful bark and whine, and
knew too well who accompanied her.
Looking about she saw standing in the
full glare of the golden light her lover
—Doctor Granville—as he stood regard
ing the tableau. She endeavored to
attract his attention by a motion of her
hand but he had turned upon his heel
and walked steadily away, Musette
meantime whining and trying to coax
him on. He did not notice her, but
walked straight away, turning neither
to the right nor the left. Agnes knew
at once that he had seen the fond em
brace and misconstruing it had left her,
she feared forever. Turning to her
brother she said :
“I will go back with you, Jack, when
you return to A , and rejoice in your
acquittal and freedom, and may God
bless you, dear brother, and keep you
always honorable and good,” and she
again twined her arms about his neck
and kissed him fondly.
As she did so, Doctor Tom had turn
ed to take a farewell look at the golden
haired girl he had loved so fondly, and
saw the same fond embrace. Covering
his eyes with his hands, he groaned his
misery : “And I loved her so ! She was
my life, my all !” and hurried toward
home.
His mother had returned, and as her
son approached the pale, ashen hue of
his set features frightened her, and she
said excitedly:
“Why, Tom, what is the matter?
Are you ill, my son ?”
“Yes, mother, at heart. My idol has
fallen. It was not the beautiful, perfect
thing I deemed it, hut mere dross. A
beautiful image with a black, deceitful
heart. Bah! all women are alike.
Please have my portmanteau packed ;
I leave in an hour.” The hard, cold
words of scorn hurt the fond mother
and she quickly asked :
“What does this sudden departure
mean? Explain yourself,” and he
straightway related the whole matter,,
concluding—
“I never dreamed that she had a
lover, but was foolhardy enough to
flatter myself that she cared for me.”
Mrs. Granville saw through it all in
an instant. Deeming it wisest to hu
mor her son, she only said :
“This man, my son, may not be a
lover, but some dear relative, and you
will find that Agnes will explain It all
to your infinite satisfaction, if you will
only give her a hearing. Depend upon
upon her face, as the relation of this
young man was made known, and she
said to herself : “I knew she was as
innocent and guileless as a child.”
“Now, my dear friend,” began Ag
nes, “in the presence of ni) r
read for her, and they sat in the beau
tiful library, as cozy and as snug as of
yore, but there was a great pain tugging
at Agnes’ heart; for she felt that she
would soon be far away from these sur-
the presence of my only j rounding* that had become so dear to
brother, I will tell you of my past life, , her. Nine o’clock came, ten, and
as I leave with him to-morrow. We eleven, and no arrival of the younti
were left alone in the world two years j Doctor. Mrs. Granville said :
ago, with but little save superior edu- “You have been a very martyr, Aggie,
cation to maintain us. lie secured a j and I now release you. It is late, and
lucrative and trusty position in a bank, JI cannot impose upon your good nature
and I became governess in a family, longer.”
more noted for wealth than aught else.) “You know, dear, there is nothing I
The president of this bank had a pro- would not do for you, and I have been
fligate son, who cordially disliked my j so happy here,” and she kissed ten-
brother, because he had won the love ; derly the handsome old face, for she
of a girl who spurned him, and by way [ felt that she might never see it again,
of revenge he tampered with my broth- Mrs. Granville had been in her room
er’s books, stealing various amounts j scarce half an hour, when a tap at her
and making the evidence against Jack i floor surprised her, and answering it,
very criminating. The crime was open- , was clasped in the loving embrace of
lj'published to the world, branding my I her truant son, who, a trifle thin and
brother a thief, and the evidence was j tanned, she held off at arm s length
so clear against him that Jack gave up ' and said :
all hope of being able to prove his in- “Poor, dear, impulsive boy ; all this
nocence. They took him from me and tramping and journeying* around for
placed him in jail, and I in mad frenzy i naught, leaving his old mofher all
flew to this summer retreat, away from | alone, who knew best from the begin-
those I once knew so well, although 1 5 and—,” but-before she could finish her
knew that my brother was not guilty, j sentence, he caught her hands in his
In the meantime, the porter and watch- j a ml questioned eagerly :
man came forward and proved that j "What, mother dear, do you mean she
he had seen, this same son at various j j s rea lly here? is really with you ?”
times, in the still hours of the night,! "What she are you talking about?”—
at my brother’s desk, and, suspecting J evading him. “You are positively
something wrong, watched him closely ! enigmatical in your language,” with an
and thus cleared my brother, placing | insinuating smile.
the guilt upon Hugh Warner, the real | "Don’t tease—do tell me—is Agnes
criminal. The amount was made good ; ) iere ?”
bv the president, to shield his guilty j "j did no t sa y so. Now, he calm,
son, my brother was re-installed and his T onlt and tell me all about this fool’s
salary raised, and here he is, a free, in
nocent man. And now, my dear friend,
you have my past, in full.”
Mrs. Granville’s arms were instantly
about Agnes, and she was drawn in a
close embrace, and the kind, loving
words fell on her ear :
“I knew you were good and pure, my
child, and now I want you to stay
with me and comfort me with your
bright companionship. Won’t you let
me have her for awhile, Mr. Claire ?”
But before he could reply, Agnes said:
“Indeed, dear friend, I ask no sweet
er boon than to be with you always.
I must be about seeking a situation, as
my brother’s salary is scarcely suffi
cient to maintain us, and allow him to
accumulate anything. And as a love
ly girl is only waiting until he can
make her his wife, I prefer to be inde
pendent.”
“Be my companion, my comforter,
and I will pay you, dear girl, wliat you
will. I am so lonely, and with my son
off on a long journey, perhaps, I will
need you. And now, won’t you stay,
dear?” The knowledge of her son’s
absence, and that indefinite, decided
Agnes at once, and placing one arm
lovingly about Mrs. Granville’s neck
she said :
“I will stay, best and dearest of good
friends, and ask naught at your hands
but your sweet companionship; but
you must give me the privilege of ex
ercising my own judgment about how
long I shall stay, eh?”
“We will see,” said Mrs. Granville.
So Agnes remained at “Homeword,”
and her life then was one constant
round of happiness and perfect content.
At times the memory of the stalwart,
handsome son stole into her heart, and
the sad regret that he should misjudge
her marred the even and blissful tenor
of her young life ; but she would as
speedily dismiss it, and hope for the
bright ending.
CHAPTER III.
Months had now passed and only a
few straggling and unsatisfactory mis
sives came to Mrs. Granville from the
wanderer.
g-foe wrote him finally, in brief, of
Agnes’ story, after allowing him to
saunter about listlessly from place
to place, and in her own language,
“ounishing him for his impetuous, un
reasonable conduct.” This last ex
planatory epistle, however, had the de
sired effect, and now he was speeding
home as fast as the iron-horse could
bring him. Not one word of his coming
did she intimate to Agnes; for she
knew hei spirit would be instantly up
in arms, and thereby she would lose
her. She was concocting a plan to
keep her with her always ; for it was
her fondest desire to have Agnes for a
daughter, and now she was scheming
toward that end.
It was one of those cool, crisp days
in November that Mr:
errand upon which you have been.
And mother and son sat hand in hand,
and he was soon in the blissful knowl
edge of Agnes’ presence in the house.
When he kissed his mother good-night,
he went below to the library instead
of his own sanctum, and throwing him
self himself in a large arm-chair turned
off the gas, and sat in happy thought
of how he would meet his own beloved
on the morrow, and right the wrong he
had done her. He sat for some time in
this sweet reverie, when he heard light
footsteps, and then the door softly
opened. He did not move, but waited
patiently the development of the in
truder’s purpose. There was now only
a faint light from the dying embers of
the wood fire pervading the room, and
he scarcely allowed himself to breathe.
Agnes meantime, all unconscious of his
arrival, had donned her traveling suit
and bonnet, and leaving a note of fare
well on her dressing table, had stolen
down to take a farewell of her favorite
haunt, and stood in the library. She
did not see its occupant, but stood gaz
ing at each familiar article—the massive
book-case, the Persian rugs, the inlaid
floor, the filmy lace draperies, the
fragrant exotics in the costly vases, and
last a portrait on an easel of the mas
ter of the house—Doctor Tom’s own
smiling, handsome face. Tears filled
her eyes and she leaned toward the
portrait, as thongh taking in every
feature of that dear face. Tom mean
time had risen to his feet, and seeing
the graceful figure of the object of his
thoughts, could scarce repress a cry of
joy. However, he made not a motion,
not a sound, but watched her eagerly’,
and as she stooped and kissed his own
image, lie was instantly by her side,
two strong, loving anus about her, and
her shining head npon his breast, as
he said :
“My own darling., my wife, can you
forgive me, and do you really love me?”
Poor Agnes was filled with conflicting
emotions of joy and fear, as she looked
up into his beaming face with alarm,
“When did youcoiaae—and how long?”
she questioned confusedly, trying to
free herself from his embrace.
“Never mind that, love. You were
trying to steal away from me, and you
stole right into my anns. No, you
cannot go until you say I may keep
you always, and that you love me bet
ter than anybody and all the world.
See, how greedy I am, love ?”
“Oh, Tom, you ,” but before she
could continue,, the original was enjoy
ing the kiss of betrothal, intended as
one of farewell to the portrait.
“And Mussette, and mother dear,
will be so happy, love.”
Xailroab Sc^ules-.
atlanta&west point r. r.
January 15th, 1888.
Up Day PassengerTrain—East.
Leave Montgomery — J ?0 a m
ffiSKR? 5 l £
SS&&*.::...... «\t ?“
Palmetto 75- SS?
Arrive at Atlanta 1 -o p m
Down Day Passenger Train—West.
Leave Atlanta
2 5:1pm
3 IT pm
3 30 p m
3 to pm
7 20 pm
Palmetto..
•• Newnan
" Puckett’s
“ Grantville
Arrive at Montgomery
Up Nigiit Passenger Train—East,
Leave Selma « ‘>0 dS
^ ve KS ery ? iS £
.. j»;;
:: SKSSa.::::::::::::::::::::::: | g
Arrive at Atlanta 3&oain
Down Night Passenger Train—West,
r^ave Atlanta I? « 5 m
“ Puckett’s ™ „ Hi
“ Grantville
Arrive nt Montgomery “ ”
Arrive at Selma 9 30am
Accommodation Train (daily)—East.
LuGrance 8 a m
Gran tvi 1 le , ix a U 1
Puckett's 7 10 a m
Newnan Z"^ am
Powell’s ' ■{” a 111
Palmetto H 00 a m
Atlanta 9 Id a m
accommodation Train (daily)—West.
Leave Atlanta 4 45pm
Arrive Palmetto
“ Newnan b 30 p m
Puckett’s 8 j* P 5?
“ Grantville 7 00pm
“ LaGrange 7 4o p ni
CHAS. H. CROMWELL,
Cecil Gabdett, y Gen’l Pass. Agent.
Gen’I Manager.
Leave
Arrive
S, G. & N. A. R. R.
No. I—
Leave Carrollton
ArriveAtkinson, T. O.
Banning
Wliiteslmrg..
Sargent’s
Newnan
Sliarpsburg..
Turin
Senoia
Brooks
Vaughns
Griffin
515 a m
(iOPaiD
f> 15 a tu
0 20 am
6 50am
7 14 a hi
8 05 am
8 12 am
8 82 am
9 05 am
9 27 am
9 50 am
No. 2—
Leave Griffin
Arrive at Vaughns
Brooks
Senoia
Turin
Sharpsburg
Newnan
Sargent’s
Wbitesburg
Banning
Atkinson, T. O.
Carrollton
M. S. Belknap,
12 01 pm
12 18 p m
12 36 pm
1 10 pm
1 35 pm
1 50 p in
2 28 p m
3 25 pm
3 48 pm
4 00 p m
4 23 pm
4 50pm
Gen’l Manager.
A one-armed boy in Augusta saved
four persons from drowning; but Dr.
Bull’s Cough Syrup has saved its thous
ands from consumption.
A flock of blackbirds that must have
Granville re- j been nearly two miles in length was
ceived a dispatch from her son to the | seen by the passengers on a Pennsylva-
„ . . . , ,, , . . .i, nia railroad train recently. The birds
effect that he would be at hone t a. | were so numerous that they darkened
very evening. Agnes, however, was | the sky for a few minutes, and present-
kept in perfect ignorance, until late in j ed a most novel spectacle,
the afternoon, when she accidentally . . , . ,
overheard Mrs. Train nL tell the ma ; food and alcholic drinks are the pre-
she must dress the dinner table m the j disposing causes of gout. When aware
choicest flowers, that her son would of its presence lose no time in procur-
it, she could not be capable of a treach-| dine w ith her, but to say nothing of it. j ing Salvation Oil. It kills pain. 25
Her heart beat tumultuously, for the !
man she loved with all her strength 1 Some time ago Queen Victoria presen-
back ; would be near her; i ted her servants with splendid liveries
erous, deceptive act. Although in utter
ignorance of her past, I am a good
reader of human nature, and particu
larly of my own sex.”
But Tom could not be convinced that
he was not correct in his decision, and
insisted upon leaving.
“Well, if you will go, my son, I shall
soon have you back, with the sweet
knowledge of her perfect innocence
and constancy.” He, however, left on
the first train that left N , leaving
no message, no word for Agnes.
She, however, with a heavy heart
had returned to Mrs. Granville’s, ac
companied by her brother. As she
eame up to the porch where sat her
friend, she introduced him, who was
kindly received by Mrs. Granville, and
a pleased, half-amused smile settled
... o ".TT it. , "" r‘“,r’ i in honor of her jubilee year; but she
she would hear Ins "voice again. Lut , now informs them thatthecostofthe.se
no, no ; I cannot stay ; I will leave this j liveries will be deducted from their
place ; I could not have him think 1 j wages, The old lady is opposed to
remained to see him,” and she began ; ^quande mg h«-i surplus.
will t
planning for her departure. “I
A Gnicago lawyer advertised for a
leave a note for Mrs. Granville, and she j bov, and got a letter reading as follows:
will not need me, now that he will be j “I am twelve years old. I ain’t got no
; with her.” She knew that she would j farther nor muther. I ni an orfan and
be forced to meet him at dinner, but ■ 0 - u - e — - ete3 liel how
she would leave while he and his moth
er were enjoying a private chat, later
in the evening. Dinner was served at
seven, instead of the customary hour,
six—and still he had not come, aud she
congratulated herself that she could
hard times is.” The boy was given the
situation.
Mullein Better than Cod Liver Oil -
Dr. Quillian, the leading authority of
Great Britain on lung troubles, gives his
opinion, based upon experiment, that
mullein is better in consumption than
Cod Liver Oil. Taylor’s Cherokee
possibly leave before his arrival. After j R eme d y G f Sweet Gum and Mullein will
diuner, Mrs. Grauville asked her to j core coughs, colds and consumption.
FOP
-AND-
CONSUMPTION-
vior
OF
SWEET GUM
MULLEIN.
T2w sweet Rum, as gathered from a tree Of th*
saoaa name, growing akmg tSe small »tr«am« in
the Southern States, eontolns a stimulating ex
pectorant principle that leoeesm the pfclegm PHS
ducing the early morn-lne eongh. ana stimulates
the child to throwelT thefatse membrane to eroup
and whooping-cough, when combined with the
healing mucilaginous principle In the mullein
plant of the old fields, preeentain TAYLOR’S
Cherokee Remedy op sweet and MUt-
lkin the finest known remedy for Cou*h», Croup,
Whoopinff-conffh and consumption; and bo para-
table, any child is pleased to take It. Ask your
dnuuriBt for it. Price and Sl.M.
WALTER A.TAYLOR.Atlnata.Ga.
DO YOU WANT
AH EXQUISITELY j
BEAUTIFUL
REPRESENTING
DREAMoLIF
“An Elegant Novelty is Calendars/’
“A Touching Stery Told in Colors.”
“Highly Original, and a Work of Art.”
TO PROCURE THIS CALENDAR
Birr A BOX 0P THE
Dr.G.McLANE’S CelebTd LIVER PILLS
Ppr Cents fratn year Druggist, and mail
the outside wrapper, with year address and four
eentain Postage Stamps to
FLEMIN5 PittslnrglhPa.
yxook sat for Counterfeits made In St Louis.
Famm'S
HAIR BAL8AI
•“* beauttflee the ]
romotesa luxuriant growth.
'•TV to Restore <
| Hmr to ito Ym4MM Cols
l^reagnsl^dlsnsncsaod hair to
J*
"la,