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NEWNAN HERALD & ADVERTISER VOL. XLIV. NEWNAN, GA., FRIDAY, MAY 21, 1909. NO. 34. TAKE WARNING! II All stock feed is high, and going higher. Everybody should sow Sorghum and Peas. In Sorghum seed we have “EARLY AMBER,” “ORANGE” and “RED TOP.” H Try some of our Alfalfa ground feed. It is cheaper and better than Corn or Oats. U We have a fresh stock of International Stock and Poultry Powders. *J Medicated Salt Brick—the best physic for rundown ;stock. Takes the place of salt, and is always ready, as you only have to place the brick in your horse-trough. <1 Chicken Feed—we have it, and CORNO is the best. *1 Cotton Seed Meal, Shorts and Bran. li Four thousand pounds best Compound Lard at best price. T. Q. FARMER & SONS CO DO YOU NEED A NEW DOGGY? Now is the time and this is the place to buy one. We call your attention to the many new and hand some designs shown, all of which we can recommend as the latest styles in the vehicular line. Our stock is now complete with Top Buggies, Runabouts, etc., fitted with either steel or rubber ■ tires. Our motto is to furnish the trade with the^r best Buggies that can be produced for the least money, and the success which has followed our ef forts, as evidenced by the large yearly increase of our business, we b 'ieve enables us to serve your best interest in offering you the most up-to-date iQl line of Buggies in the trade, and at the most attrac- tive prices, considering the superior quality of the work. Having just finished our new Buggy emporium, we are in better position than ever before to take care of our customers. Come in and see our stock of “White Star” and Barnesville Buggies. THE WORLD GOES ON. The world *o»»s onward all the same, 'Mid palms of peace or battle Hume; One measure of just joy to me. And one impartial share to thee; We fight. we plan—our own dream seems The first and last of all the dreams, The highest and holiest need Of life and land and time and deed;— We vanish—but the world tfoes on Unto some unrisen dawn! The world goes onwnrd all the while. If we weep or if wo smile; We blow our bubble, ehuse our ray And have our little part to play. The chance, the strife, the take and Rive The living; and the lotting: live— The coming: forth and groin* by With winged Icarius to fly; We fall, we fade, and are undone, But not the dawn and not the sun! The world good OfUVfthT fill the time, With sob and sigh or song and rhyme: We conte and go and build our spire And dream our dream of old desire;— We work and wait and rest and sleep, And we are dust, and mosses creep; And all we did to make time sweet Time treads in dust beneath its feet; We halt, we pause, our flags are furled. But ever onward goes the world ! H. C. ARNALL MDSE. CO. A ♦ Author of the First “Rag-Time.” Atlanta Constitution. Not everybody knows that the lirst “rag” ever published was by a Geor gia man, Charles Astin, of Newnan. It is called "The Georgia Jubilee.” and was published in 1889, since which time it has enjoyed a tremendous sale. Mr. Astin, not being satisfied with his title of rag-time pioneer, however, has seized the ’possum craze by the forelock, and his latest composition is ‘‘Billy ’Possum,” an intermezzo 'pos sum trot, which is very appropriately dedicated to Col. Harry Fisher, of Newnan, whose prominence was en hanced during President Taft’s recent visit in Georgia by Col. Fisher’s suc cessful exploitation of the superior claims of Coweta county in the matter of ’possums. The new “rag” has been gotten out in attractive form, with Col. Fisher’s picture and a ’possum hung on the cov er. and it has attracted the attention of the American Musician, to the extent of a considerable sketch of Mr. Astin, whose first and favorite compositions are on serious lines, some of which en joyed a wide reputation and sale. The American Musician says in part: “The most famous work by Charles Astin is ‘The Georgia Jubilee,’ patrole de nigggah, originally published in 1889 under the non de plume of Carl Lexhoizt. ‘The Georgia Jubilee’ is the first ‘rag’ ever published and has had a phenomenal sale these twenty years past. It is now revised and republished by The Coweta Music Co., of Newnan, Ga. “Mr. Astin is a musician of note throughout the Southern Atlantic States, particularly Georgia, and plays the piano, violin and pipe organ equally well. Previous to 1889 Mr. Astin had never played other than classic music, but was at that time induced to publish ‘The Georgia Jubilee’ in the following manner. He decided that he would try to sell pianos, but found the sober clas sics would not win the appreciation of the people in the country and smaller towns. As Mr. Astin was never known to do things by halves, he got the farm negroes and river boat hands to sing for him whenever he could induce them. In this way he collected and originated the tunes in ‘The Georgia Jubilee.’ He sold about two hundred pianos on the strength thereof. “So many people wanted copies of chis realistic masterpiece that Mr. As tin decided to publish it. As Ditson, Schubert and others had published some of his best works he decided to use an assumed name. This was done, and it sold by thousands. “One of the composer’s recent works is ‘Billy Possum,’ intermezzo ’possum trot, also published by The Coweta Mu sic Co. ‘Billy ’Possum’ is a slight de parture, as it contains a chorus in the trio. When President Taft was in At lanta a big ’possum supper was given in his honor and a controversy arose between Mr. Fisher, of Coweta county, and Judge Park, of Worth county, as to which county furnished the finest ’possums. Of course, Mr. Astin sided with Mr. Fisher, as he also is a resi dent of Coweta county, and wrote ‘Bil ly ’Possum.’ “Two other unusually meritorious in- trumental works from the pen of Mr. Astin are ‘Walking Egypt’ and ‘Salva tion Army Band.’ “At present Mr. Astin is organist at the First Methodist church, of New nan, Ga., and he has a very large class j of musical aspirants. Mr. Astin says j j that ‘if I had more time to write f would put some of those New Yorkers ! in the background. J wrote “Billy j ’Possum” after the night service be-1 fore 1 went to bed on Sunday and sent; the manuscript to the publisher on the first Monday train. Excuse rne to tne public on the ground that Dan Emmett wrote “Dixie Land” on Sunday.’ ” “You always speak kindly to your wife?’’ said the prying friend. “Always,” answered Mr. Meekton. “I never think of giving Henrietta a harsh word. ” “Because you believe in ruling by gentleness?” “No. Because self-preservation is I the first law of nature.” He Lacks the Temperament. AmeriQUs Timos-Rcecimlm-. Can Gov. Smith regain the ground he has lost and become the successful can didate for the Governorship of Geor gia? That is one of the real live politi cal problems that the future may hold in sthre. On its answer depends, in all probability, very much of the political histo»y of the State for the next ten, if not twenty years. The State may now be said to be in an uncertain state. The political events of the next year or two are apt to give a definite twist to its future policies, to the destinies of its present public men, and to the gen eral trend of the dominant thought among its people. Excessive radicalism may be said to have'defeated Gov. Smith last year. He had not yet learned the lesson—it wouljl seem he has not yet learned it— that reforms are best accomplished slowly and by degrees; that if there are evils they cannot be all uprooted in a day ; that it is far better to accomplish the desired results gradually and with out too vast an overturning of business affairs. If he had been of this type of character, if he had been aggressive hut not dominating, if he had been fear less but not tyrannical, if he had been hold but not reckless, it is quite with in the range of probabilities that he would have secured a second term as Governor, that he would gradually have strengthened his hold upon the politics of the State, and that only death could have kept him from the coveted seat in the United States Sen ate. Men are made or marred by their personal characteristics—by the pecu liarities of temperament that mark them. This is signally true of Gov. Smith. A little more conservatism in his make-up, a little more of a concili atory nature, a little more willingness to seek the advice and profit by the ex- periehce of others, a little less disposi tion to bring others in complete sub servience to his will, and he would, in all likelihood, have been an unconquer able leader. The absence of these qual ities largely worked his undoing. He is foolish who questions the strong qualities that Gov. Smith pos sesses. He has not lost them. But neif. ", apparently, has he discarded the weak ones that became so promi nent after his installation into office and largely served to bring about the rebuke implied in a failure to secure a renomination. There is still apparent a rancor that is injurious to his future prospects, a hostility that he can hard ly mask against railroads and corpora tions, a tendency to appeal more to prejudices than to facts, a disposition to denounce those who may honestly differ with him. And these very weak nesses in his character, as exemplified in his official acts and public utter ances, will probably keep him in pri vate lifp, once he has left the office he now occupies. Wedding Bells. Columbus Enquirer-Sun. Rising above all other sounds of bright and festive springtime we hear the wedding bells, and their faintest tinkle commands the rapt attention ot all the world, womankind especially. In social affairs the wedding has, par excellence, the right of way, and every thing dwindles beside it. Men, as a rule, deprecate the pomp and circum stance that a woman loves to throw around a wedding. The masculine sen timent clings to the idea of complete privacy, shutting out the world and creating for himself a fictitious atmos phere of only two. But with the wo man marriage must he the central event of her life, to be shared in by all she loves, all she venerates. She must be surrounded by her nearest and dear est, and her hope and happiness seems to express itself in a thousand little tender ways of saying farewell to her old life. She faces the new life with solemnity and plans the event itself as near as may be to her ideal of what a wedding should be. To our thinking it is by far the nobler ideal of the two. Beautiful weddings are not designed for display, as is sometimes thought, but to express the thought that it is the great event in the life of a woman and must be celebrated in a fitting manner. Women idealize marriage and are constantly struggling to lift it above the commonplace, the sordid and gross. What would life be anyway without ideality? It is the divine in stinct in us, and must not be rudely crushed and trampled upon. The eth ics of wedding arrangements require that the bride shall be the autocrat, and she shall choose and decide every thing from start to finish. As far as possible she must be indulged by every body in all her fancies-for that occa sion, at least. “Oh. my friends, there are some spectacles that one never forgets!” said a lecturer after giving a graphic description of a terrible accident he hail witnessed. “Ahem !” spoke up an old lady in the audience. “I’d like to know where they sells ’em.” . «I Spirit of the Patriarch Still Survives in the South. Harris Dieksan in Everybody’s Magazine. “Mammy” and patriarch alike have almost passed from the stage. But the spirit of the patriarch still sur vives. In the life of the ’South one may see it everywhere, hiding the rough places and softening the world- old antagonism of race, The patriarch Understands it, and the negro under stands it; hut neither could explain it to a strange!*. "You see, boss, ” says the old darky, “he’s all d$ white folks I’se got.” The hereditary patriarchal instinct is strong enough to make the Southern physician carry a long list of negro pa tients, whom he never charges a cent. The busy lawyer pushes aside the case of a wealthy client and throws himself into the defense of some trilling negro whom he knows to be guilty, because his father would have done so. The Judge upon the bench makes allowances for the negro's invincible limitations. Negroes are charged with the viola tion of laws that have no existence in the African conscience with the com mission of crimes beyond the scope of jungle comprehension. Forgery, for instance: A negro has just learned to write; he would not know a forgery if he saw it in the middle of the big road with a bell on it “Jess a few little mark's on a paper!” When he pleads guilty, the Judge finds a way to sen tence him for petty larceny instead of forgery, and sends him to jail for thir ty days instead of giving him seven years in the penitentiary. White ju ries often refuse point blank to convict upon indisputable evidence, solely on the ground that the negro was indicted for bigamy. He didn’t know what big amy was: he simply had had hard luck and got mixed up in a lawsuit over his fourth or fifth wife. The Judge defend ed him on the plea that his wife had been gone for seven years, which raised a legal presumption of her death. This is a very pretty defense, but it requires delicacy and finesse to put it over the plate. When the great day came, the rear seats in the court-room were crowded with sympathetic friends. The darkey reeled oil' his story without hitch or break. Then the prosecuting attor ney made a stagger at cross-examina tion. “Uncle Mose, your wife has been missing for seven years ; what makes you think she’s dead?” “Lordy, Mr. Willie, dat ’oman writ me three or fo’ letters dat she’s dead. Here’s one of ’em right here. ” In spite of this, twelve hard-hearted white ju rors turned the old fellow loose. A Flat-House Idyl. Portland Telegram. ‘‘It is better to be sick than to be told that I owe my good health to the negligence of a stingy landlord,” said the wild-eyed tenant. ‘‘That is what I have been told, and by a doctor, too. The landlord’s sin of omission con cerned the radiator. It leaked. Early last fall I called his attention to the leak. He promised to send a plumber to mend it. Of course, he didn’t, and I have passed the greater part of the winter immersed in a vapor hath. "Last week I. heard that everybody in the house was sick. 1 met the doctor on the stairs when he was making his rounds. “ ‘What’s the matter with them?’ I asked. “ ‘Too much dry hot air,’ he said. 'It’s a wonder you are not laid up, too.’ “ ‘When dry hot air is the cause?’ said I. ‘Great heavens!’ Then I dragged him in and showed him my ra diator, which was belching forth its usual cloud of steam. “ ‘That’s the only thing that saved you,’ said he, and the landlord, who had followed us in, was right there and heard it. That was what made rne mad. He’ll be saying now that it is for my health’s sake that he makes me put up with broken window-panes and a gas range that won’t bake.” ‘‘That looks like a newly-made grave that little hummock over there on the desert,” said the traveler from the East. ‘‘That’s just what it is, neighbor,” answered Arizona Al. “The editor of the Weekly Cactus Spine was buried over there last week. ’ “What was his complaint?” “He had none. It was Coyote Cal who had the complaint. You see, there was a baby born up to Cal’s house a spell ago, and the editor wrote an item about it sayin’ a tow-headed little girl had come to make Cal and his woman, happy, an’ it ’pears the printer got the letters mixed somehow. Led’stways it said in the paper when Cal read it that it was a two-headed baby, and him be in’ an impulsive cuss, there wasn’t nothin’ to do but hold the funeral the next day.” Occasionally a man gets angry uni tries to raise the roof, and is only pre vented by the mortgage that holds it down. The Mother’s Side. Man, if you have an old mother, be good to her. Tell her that you love her. Kiss the faded lips. Hold in yours the work-knotted hands. Scatter a few of the flowers of ten derness and appreciation in her path way while she is still alive and can be made happy by them. Don’t wait to put all of yoqr affec tion and gratitude and reverence fop her into a costly ton of rnarhle, in scribed “Mother.” Don’t wait to throw all of your bou- quels on Itei' grave i itlake imtif 'oiil niOthfeb’rt llenft sing for joV by showing her, while site is ftliVe ( jdst one tithe of the love and appreciation that you will heap upon her when she is dead, These words are written for some one particular man who reads this pa per. I do not know his name, but I know his story. He is a middle-aged man, married, prosperous. He is a good man, highly respected, and he hasn’t an idea but what he is doing his full duty by his poor old mother, who lives in his house, and whom he sup ports. He supplies her wants. She eats at his table, is sheltered by his roof, is warmed by his fire, is decently clothed by his hands; but that is all. He neglects her. He never says a word of affection to her. He never pays her any little atten tions. When she ventures an opinion, he cuts it short witli curt contempt. When she tells her garrulous old sto ries, as old people will, he does not even try to conceal how much he is bored. In a thousand unintentional ways the old mother is made to feel that she is a cumberer of the ground, an impedi ment in the household, an old-fashioned and useless piece of furniture of which every one will be glad to be rid. Under this coldness and neglect the poor old mother’s heart is breaking, and in a letter, written in a trembling and feeble handwriting, she asks me if 1 cannot say something that her son will read, and that may make him think. Ah. if I could 1 The Road to Bye and Bye. Bank MoHHenger. A great crowd travels over this road to Bye and Bye. All kjnds of people. Some fooling and strutting ; some limp ing and crawling; some growling and stumbling along; some caroling; some cursing: some quiet and thoughtful. All along the road there are signs “Keen Money in Thy Purse,” “Pre pare for Trouble,” “The Want of Mon ey is the Source of all Evil.” Most of these gay ones amble along arm in arm. now and then glancing at the signs and laughing as they read. What money they have they fling into the air and sing merrily. Others under stand the signs much better and with prudent foresight they pick up what the fools throw away. Along towards the end of the road we see the results of this earlv folly or thrift. Those foolish travelers are now hol low-eyed, with sunken cheeks that speak of misery. They halt along the wayside, poking the dirt with stick and turning the stones in a vain search for money. There is no money in the road. Those who picked up and saved mon ey as they came along many mile stones back, are now contented and the road is easy for them. They will enjoy every mile of it to the end. “What’s the matter with Podgers? I met him limping along and holding his jaw. ” “Got the foot and mouth disease.” “Heavens! You don’t say so!” “Yes. Corns and toothache.” NEEDFUL KNOWLEDGE. Newnan People Should Learn to De tect the Approach of Kid- ' ney Disease. The symptoms of kidney trouble are so unmistakable that they leave no ground for doubt. Sick kidneys ex crete a thick, cloudy, offensive urine, full of sediment, irregular of passage or attended by a sensation of scalding. The back aches constantly, headaches and dizzy spells may occur, and the vic tim is often weighed down by a feeling of languor and fatigue. Neglect these warnings and there is danger of dropsy, Bright’s disease, or diabetes. Any one of these symptoms is warning enough to begin treating the kidneys at once. Delay often proves fatal. You can use no better remedy than Doan’s Kidney Pills. Here’s Newnan proof: F. W. Brown, machinist, 18 Thomp son street, ' ewnan, Ga., says: “Some months ago I was troubled a great deal by pains in the small of my back. Pro curing a box of Doan’s Kidney Pills at Lee Bros. ’ drug store, I used them ac cording to directions and was relieved in a few days. I have been in good health since.” For sale by all dealers. Price 50 cents. Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, New York, sole agents for the United States. Remember the name—Doan’s—and take no