Newspaper Page Text
'binary's Office
THE HERALD AND ADVERTISER
VOL. XLIII.
NEWNAN, GA„ FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1908.
NO. 49.
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BAGGING
-AND-
TIES
We want your fall trade, and we are
in position to make you some very
close prices on anything that you may
need. Get our prices on Bagging and
Ties. We have just received a car
load of the York & Hub Bagging,
also car-load of Ties.
Don’t forget we are still selling
the famous Chattanooga Wagons—
the best made, everyone guaranteed.
Come to see us, or ’phone 147
for anything you want and we will be
glad to supply your wants.
T. G. FARMER
& COMPANY
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WHAT’S A LIFE?
And what’s a life?—a weary pilgrimage.
Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage
With childhood, manhood, and decrepit age.
And what’s a life!—the flourishing array
Of the proud summer meadow, which to-day
Wears her green plush, and is to-morrow hay.
Read on this dial how the shades devour
My short-lived winter’s day ! Hour eats up hour ;
Alas! the total’s but from eight to four.
Behold these lilies which thy hands have made.
Fair copies of my life, and open laid
To view, how soon they droop, how soon they fade!
Shade not that dial, night will blind too soon;
My non-aged day already points to noon;
How simple is my suit!—how small my boon!
Nor do I bog this slender inch to while
The time away, or falsely to beguile
My thoughts with joy: here’s nothing worth a
smile. —[Francis Quarles.
REPAIR YOUR
WAGONS
The best line of Wagon and Buggy re
pairs in the city. Be sure to see
our line before you buy.
MacHine Oil.
The Atlantic Red, a specially good oil at a
special low price.
Eng'
me
Oil.
Something good and the price is right.
Rope.
The best line of gin rope in the city. Rope
is cheap and we are able to sell the
best grade at the price of
the cheapest. Call and
see the difference.
Stoves and R^anges.
Fifty Stoves and a dozen new Ranges just
in. Call and look them over.
Kirby-Boliannon Hardware Co.
Telephone 201.
of Georgia, a member of Congress, and
the other was John Floyd, Governor of
Virginia.
The Virginia Governor afterwards
became a member of Congress. He
was the father of John Floyd, distin
guished in the Confederate service and
afterwards.
It is difficult to tell which one of
these Floyds the South Carolina elec
tors voted for. Some say one, some
say another, but perhaps it was the
Georgia man, because he was born in
South Carolina, at Beaufort, and was
a distinguished general in the War of
1812, before he went to Congress.
In the light of these historical facts
it iB considered quite natural here that
Georgia should be making an effort to
catch up on the Presidential and Vice-
Presidential business. Perhaps Tom
Watson and John Temple Graves will
make an appeal along this line.
Party Loyalty.
Albany Herald.
We are hearing a good deal in Geor
gia these days about party loyalty and
“party lash.” There are some who ap
pear to be unable to distinguish be
tween the two in their application to
the individual.
The “party lash” has no place in
Georgia politics, and it certainly has no
terror for the honest voter. It is only
those who are looking for an excuse to
sidestep or recant who find occasion to
cry out against what they are pleased
to call the "party lash.”
There can be no question in the mind
of an honest voter in Georgia who par
ticipated in the June primary as to
what his bounden duty will be in the
October election, and it is a reflection
on four-fifths of the white voters of
the State for Yancey Carter to offer
himself as a candidate for Governor
against Hon. Joseph M. Brown, who
was duly nominated in a primary elec
tion in which all white voters, regard
less of their past party affiliations,
were invited to participate, and in
which enough of the white voters of
the State did participate to make it ut
terly impossible tor Mr. Carter or any
other independent candidate to win
the regular election in October unless
there is wholesale treachery, unfaith
fulness and infidelity in the ranks of
the 212,000 white men who voted in the
Democratic primary on June 4. Mr.
Carter’s candidacy can only be based
upon the presumption that a large per
centage of those who participated ir
the Democratic primary and thereby
honorably bound themselves to abide
by the result will turn traitor and be
tray those of their fellow-citizens
who recognize and observe the binding
obligation into which they entered
the June primary.
The man who is dishonest with his
vote is unworthy of the right of fran
chise which is guaranteed to him a3
free American citizen, ar.d it is not
wielding the “party lash” to insist
that every man who participated in the
Democratic primary in June is bound
by the highest standards of citizenship
to loyally abide by the result, as deter
mined by the majority. There is among
honorable men no more binding obliga
ion than that which is mutually entered
into by the white voters of Georgia
when they engage in a primary elec
tion for the purpose of choosing those
who are to serve them as public offi
cials.
Christian Rum Drinkers.
Harper’8 Weekly.
They do not drink rum because they
are Christians; neither are they Chris
tians because they drink rum; neither
are they Christians because they eat
pork. Mohammed prohibited pork, rum
and pictures, and permitted polygamy
Christ’s aim was not to reach and reg
ulate the spirit through the body, but
Georgia Prominent in National Pol
itics.
Washington, Aug. 29.—The odds and
ends and eccentricities of the great po
litical campaigns are expected to ap
pear as usual, and as usual there are
all about those who devote themselves
to these rather than to any serious as
pect of the situation.
The position of Georgia has so far
furnished food for much speculation
and confabulation. Georgia has a can
didate for President and Vice-Presi
dent. But for the self-abnegation of
Hon. Seab Wright, the Empire State of
the South would have furnished three
candidates for President, as the prohi
bitionists in general naturally turned
to prohibition Georiga when it was
ready to name a Presidential pos
sibility. That the Hon. Seab de
clined is already inscribed on the pages
of history.
And there was another who was
among those “spoken of” for the Dem
ocratic Vice-Presidency, Hon. Clark
Howell. Kern of Indiana triumphed,
but sentiment for the Georgian was
strong in Denver, the only trouble be
ing that there just happened not to be
enough of it. Anyway, Georgia was on
the map at the opening of the cam
paign, and there are those who expect
that even up to the time the votes are
counted it will have a place in the pic
ture.
There are those at the national capi
tal who have been figuring, and they
say the reason there is so much Geor
gia in it, is that only once in the his
tory of the country has Georgia had a
real live factor in the election for Pres
ident.
That was in 1824 when William H.
Crawford, who was known to be the
choice of President Monroe, was de
feated by John Quincy Adams and An
drew Jackson. Neither Adams or Jack-
son had a majority of the electors,
Georgia splitting the vote, and, as tha
Constitution prescribed, the election de
volved upon the House of Representa
tives, which, although Jackson had the
larger popular vote, it elected Adams.
At no other time in the history of
the country has Georgia had a candi
date regularly nominated for President
except the two nominations of Hon
Thos. E. Watson by the Populists; but
another man was voted for in the elec
toral college. This was in 1872.
The regular nominee of the Demo
cratic party, Horace Greeley, died af
ter the electors had been elected, but
before they met. Three of Georgia’s
electoral votes were cast for Horace
Greeley anyway, although he was dead.
They doubtless thought that they had
rather have a dead man for President
than Gen. Grant. Six of the remaining
eleven votes went to B. Gratz Brown,
who was the Democratic nominee for
Vice-President, and the two others
were cast for Chas. J. Jenkins, of
Georgia. Five electors from Georgia
voted then for Alfred H. Colquitt, of
Georgia, for Vice-President. The as
sembly of the House and Senate refused
to count the three vote9 for the dead
man. And this was not all. Not even
to most of Georgians is it known
that far back in the furthest recesses | to regulate the body through the spirit
of history, in the very first election for
President of the United States, George
Washington and John Adams did not
get all of the votes. Three men from
Georgia were voted for in that election
for President. John Milton, of Georgia,
got two votes; James Armstrong, of
Georgia, got one ; and Edward Telfair,
of Georgia, got one—all four of the
votes coming from Georgia electors.
These men were not voted for for
Vice-President. They did not vote
for Vice-President in those diyps; the
man who got the next highest vote for
President was declared Vice-President.
One other Georgian was a candidate
for Vice-President, the running mate
of Douglas in 1860. This was Herschel
V. Johnson, and he got 12 votes in the
electoral college.
In some of the historical resumes
and things like that in almanacs, etc.,
notably the World Almanac, another
man is credited to Georgia as having
been voted for for President.
In 1832 South Carolina’s electors
would not vote for Andrew Jackson,
and being naturally averse to Henry
Clay, the other candidate, cast their, r , .. , .. ...
i„u_ vi r ., rr i Af ... ... Operation for piles will not be neces-
votes for John Fioyd. At the time , sary jf you use ManZan Pile
The body may be orderly, with governed
appetite, and yet contain an unregener
ate spirit that is bound to induce a dis
ciplined and orderly body. So “conver
sation” that is thoroughgoing will cure
the drink habit. Rum never made any
people leaders in civilization. Religion
is the greatest civilizing force that ex
ists, but defective, corrupted religions
retard and limit the civilizations of the
people they influence. Defective relig
ions are now holding back most of
Asia, and most of the Christian coun
tries doubtless suffer more or le3S from
corrupted Christianity. The rum ques
tion is important, but not nearly so vi
tal as many people think. The true way
to settle it is not to make rum bad, or
even excessively scarce, but to make
the man good. This is the Christian
way, and the only way that is perma
nently satisfactory. That was the
method pursued by St. Patrick and
Father Mathew in driving the snakes
out of Ireland, and it cannot be beaten.
Legislation, if wise, can do something,
however, and should be made to do
what it car..
Country Editor Does Not Need Sym
pathy.
Washington (Iowa) Democrat.
Every once in a while there is a del
uge of articles on country editors.
They handle them with gloves on, as
f they were some pest that had to be
handled gingerly or that might be
catching, like measles or small-pox. Or
they might be liable to break out in a
new place, like wild Indians.
What is the use? Who asks the big
papers for any patronage, or for any
encouragement, or for any odds, for
that matter? Surely, we do not. We
get tired of it.
The country editor is as independent
as a hog on ice, compared to the big
city editor. Of course he defers to his
biggest advertiser. When his biggest
advertiser’s daughter gets married he
swears by the great horn spoon that
she is a fairy nymph, when, ten to one,
her feet don’t track and her hat is on
crooked. He defers to his “oldest sub
scriber,” who pays for a dozen copies
to send to his kin, and when he comes
to town he speaks of “our prominent
citizen, Mr. Doodab,”and writes nice
pieces about the team he drives and
about how liberal he is at the church
and in charity, when he knows dog
gone well that he pays the preacher in
scabby potatoes and talks low to save
wear and tear on his vocal chords, and
makes his wife go barefoot in summer
to save shoe leather. However, aside
from that, the country editor is as in
dependent as we said he was.
But he asks no odds from his city
brother, and. dad bump his picture! he
doesn’t ask for any nice pieces to be
written about him. He eats three
square meals a day if he can get them,
and if not he writes nice pieces about
a land that flows with milk and honey
and swears, by gum! that the Demo
cratic party is entitled to the credit!
Ask favors from our city brothers?
Not on your chin whiskers. The
country editor breathes the pure, free
air of liberty, and you get more patri
otism in the average country paper in
a week than you get in the city daily
in a coon’s age. The country editor
thinks he believes what he writes,
while half the city editors—we mean
the political and religious writers
write what they are paid to write. Thus
many a Democrat is boosting - for the
Republican party, while the Republican
editor writes nice pieces about Bryan.
In the country, bless your soul, we live
near to nature and near to our critics,
who find us out before we find out our
selves. If we renig on any proposition,
before sundown half the subscribers,
who appear mightily offended, are ir
the office trying to stop their vile pa
per.
Tell us the country editor has a hard
lot? Maybe he has, but he is at least
on the square. He believes what he
says, unless it is his advertiser, who
believes it for him. But you come a
good deal nearer to the facts than you
do in the city papers, where the work
is done by scores of writers, and no
body is actually responsible, because
nobody knows who the guilty party
may be.
The country editor — bless you. he
sees just as many funny things and
laughs up his sleeve at them Just the
same as you big city editors do. He
sees sham and pretense and the newly-
rich and the men who work religion
and those who try to work the lodge
and those who are bosses and those who
only think they are, but he just laughs
As James Whitcomb Riley says of Old
Jap Miller, “He just chawed on.” So
we just chaw on.
Never mind writing nice pieces about
the country editors. You may feel sor
ry for them, but don’t let them find it
out, or you might find yourself in con
tact with a stuffed club. It is all right
to feel sorry for them, but you had bet
ter not say anything about it. Many of
them are where they are from choice
There are country editors who could
command more conspicuous positions,
but they prefer their life of ease and
luxury and affluence arid high living
and independence and independent
thinking to any of your measly, little
cooped-up, narrow, hack-writing city
editorships. Now, is that clear? If so
then pass the pie.
“Tired of Life.”
Mobile Register.
A life insurance man who committed
suicide in Louisville, Ky., left behind a
note which said: “I am neither drunk
nor insane. I have no domestic trou
bles. I have committed no crime. I am
simply tired of life.”
He was not the first man to leave in
formation of this uncommon character.
A man who killed himself in a Middle
Western town some years ago before
committing the act] wrote not only
that he had no business or domestic
trouble, but that he was neither in
poor health nor in love. His reason for
taking his own life was the same as
that given by the man in Louisville; he
was tired of life.
There is growing in this country a
sentiment of weariness with life as it
What means this weariness it is
hard to say. We live t o fast, perhaps;
go too far, see too much, and exhaust
the possibilities of life. There is noth
ing on the face of the earth unknown
or unexplained. We know it all. There
exists no longer a fairyland with its
wondrous opportunities. Everything
has become realistic and material.
Only the poets continue to dream and
to sing, but who listens to them now
adays? Not even heaven exists any
longer for these men who have been
everywhere, seen everything, and heard
all that is to be heard.
Perhaps it is curiosity that leads the
“tired” man to suicide. Part, an in
tense weariness with existence; part,
a wish to solve the puzzle of life. With
all sense of responsibility gone, with no
expectation of getting out of life any
thing more that is worth having, the
egotist takes the "morphine route” or
fires the deadly pistol into his brain
and is still.
How to restore a mind diseased?
That, indeed, is a difficult question.
When the world is so full of what is
good, beautiful and true; when associa
tion with intelligent and sympathetic
companions is so rich in reward; when
opportunities abound for bettering hu
manity—why should man despair? We
must feel sorrow, deep sorrow, for one
who has so mistaken what life ha3 to
offer. We are sorry, as when we see
some exquisite carving fall to the
ground and break, or some nobly con
ceived enterprise fail upon the eve of
its accomplishment. And the pity of it
is that the life that is lived—this epito
me of the world—did not even know the
value of what it was destroying in its
self-destruction! It was a life never
wholly alive, else it would not have
knocked with so importunate a hand
upon the portals of the King of Pluto
nian shades.
The famous and eccentric John Ran
dolph, of Roanoke, first gave currency
to the phrase “Mason and Dixon
line.” It was the name given to the
boundary line between Pennsylvania
and Maryland which was run by Charles
Mason and Jeremiah Dixon, two Eng
lish mathematicians and surveyors, be
tween November. 1763. and December,
1767. During the excited debate in
Congress in 1820 on the exclusion of
slavery from Missouri, John Randolph
made great use of the phrase, which
was caught up by all the newspapers of
the country, and thus gained the cele
brity it still holds.”
there were two John Floyds prominent
in public life. One was John Floyd,
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One application of ManZan Pile Rem
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Drug Co.
An Awful Case.
Life.
As Mr. Tippet came in and started to
remove his overcoat his wife came up
eagerly. There was a looK of anxiety
in her eyes as she kissed him.
“Did you think, dear,” she asked
timidly, “to get that ribbon?”
“What ribbon?”
“Why, don’t you know, I gave you a
sample to match this morning?’’
“So you did. By jove, it slipped my
mind!”
“And did you step in at the milliner’s
to ask about my hat?’’
“Dear me, I—I—I—it quite escaped
me.”
“Did you send the telegram to moth
er?”
“Great heavens, no! You see, I was
so busy—”
“And see the landlord about the leak
n the roof?”
“No, I-”
His wife looked at him hopelessly.
“Did you,’’ she asked sadly, “do
anything I asked you to do this morn
ing? If you didn’t you are certainly
the most forgetful man that I can con
ceive of.”
Her husband met her smile with one
of deepest humiliation as he drew
from his overcoat pocket a small rec
tangular package.
“I am. my dear,” he exclaimed. “I
am, indeed! I admit it! I’m getting
more forgetful every day. Why, do
you know” and he flourished the
package in front of her tear-stained
eyes—“I’m getting so forgetful that I
came within an ace of not getting
these cigars? And I didn’t have one
left in the house.”
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