NEWNAN HERALD & ADVERTISER
NEWNAN, GA., FRIDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1909.
TO ALL THOSE WHO HAVE TO BUY
THEIR SUPPLY OF FLOUR
CONSOLIDATED BANK STATEMENT
Showing the condition and resources of the Banks of Coweta county at the close of business November 16, 1909.
First National Bank, at Nownan
Nownan Bnnkir.tr Company, at Newnnn
Coweta National Bank, at Ncwnan
Manufacturers National Dank. at. Newnan
Farmers and Merchants Bank, at Senoia
Hank of Kcnoia, at Senoia
First National Bnnk of Senoia, at Senoiw
Bank of Grantville, at Gruntville ....
Moreland Banking: Company, at. Moreland
Turin Banking Company, at Turin
Bank of Raymond, at Raymond
Bank of Haralson, at Haralson
I $333,686 48
: 302.06(5 81
41 493 10
J> 83.360 29
800 Barrels of Flour, bought, before the last rise in
wheat. Tojmove this amount of flour we have decided to
•livide our profits with all buyers of flour.
SEED OATS.—Texas Rust-Proof Oats, Home-Raised
Rust-Proof Appier Oats.
SEED WHEAT.—Purple-Straw Seed Wheat.
TOBACCO.—"Merry Widow,’’the rich man’s chew at
the poor man’s price.
SHOES.—Make your feet comfortable during the
coming winter by buying apairof "Stronger Than the Law”
Shoes for yourself and your boys.
And for mother and sister buy our "Virginia Creeper,”
“Dixie Girl,” and "High Point.”
We have for children the famous W'alton Shoes at
Car-load Shorts just received.
T. G. Farmer & Sons Co.
19 Court Square : : 6 and S W. Washington
H. C. Arnall Mdse.
Extend the com
pliments of the
Season, and wish
you a happy and
CHRISTMAS HOME WITH M O T H E R
Christman in the city, with its Rtrcets of liKht
Christman in the castle, with so many things and
Christman in the village, with its neighbors on tho
And friendship smiling at you from the lipa you
love to meet;
But Christmas home with mother—you can take
away the rest.
And give me that for gladness that is tenderest
Christmas home with mother as it used to be.
In life’s divine reversion to the dreams of long
The old house ringing laughter from the lips of
chick anti child.
The old dreams dancing after in the hearts just
And the romping, ringing revel, and the dinner
with its smells
Of the old familiar dished with their haunting
Turn hack again, oh, marchers in the ranks that
From Chrif tmas home with mother to the fields
of fame and fray!
The triumph may be tempting and the vict’ry fine
But Christmas hon.c with mother makes the
heart forget the street,
Aud the roaring world around one, and the i
life for the old,
And its fanfare and its tinsel and its gilt without
Christmas home with mother—’tls a dream to
make one creep
To the attic as in childhood for a little childhood
And the waking at her calling, and the marching
To the Christmas in the parlor with our faces
wreathed in smile
At the tender expectation—how it glows within
Of the things we said we wanted and the things
we knew we’d get!
Christmas home with mother—when it’s train
time let me know,
For my heart has bought a ticket to the days of
And I have lost the city, with its splendor and its
In the Christmas home with mother that bus
come to be my dream—
The old house ami the childhood, and her sweet
face waiting there
For the phantom sons and daughters single file
upon the Btair!
A CHRISTMAS REVERIE.
Watson’s Weekly JefTernonian.
Christmas is in the air.
You can feel it in tho night-time as
you hear the chickens wierdly crow, as
they do not at any other season.
You can feel it in the day-time as
you note the loosening of the close-fit
ting harness of business and social
form; as you listen to the ring of small
voices of the eliildren who step more
briskly down the street and cluster in
more hilarious groups; as you see the
tendency of man, the savage, to throw
off the light costume of restraint and
civilization and to let slip, once more,
the lustful inclinations of the original
Yes, there’s a feeling of Christmas
in the air.
What sort of a feeling does that put
into your heart, my brother?
Does it not melt you to think of the
dim years when you were a bright lit
tle boy, and when you tiptoed into the
parlor at daybreak to see what Santa
Claus had put into your stocking?
Long before the sun had thought of
getting up, you were up—you and
your little sister—and into the half
dark parlor you went, almost in fear as
well as in hope, for the white stockings
i hanging stiffly there in the fireplace
seemed the leaBt hit ghostly.
In that gray dawn how happy you
were to empty the stocking and find
that, by some mysterious chance, Santa
Claus had brought you just what you
I Since then has purer joy ever filled
l your sun I? Has life given you sweeter
No; the exquisite enjoyment of that
eany morning is something that provi-
, dence never gave to you again.
Do you remember the vague pain
! that smote you when you had grown
large enough to be told that there was
no such benevolent friend of all the
little children as Santa Claus?
What was the next great event and
happiness of your life?
Why, when the sweetheart to whom
you had been awkwurdly, timidly, mak
ing love let you “cut out” all the other
boys, and walk home with her.
Weren’t you proud?
And wasn’t she pretty?
Those clear, pure eyes; those rosy
cheeks; those smiling lips; that wealth
of glossy hair; those pearly teeth—
heavens!—how you worshipped her!
coat lapel, your heart beat pit-a-pat,
and you held your breath till the dainty
boutonniere was fixed.
And when you had worn the flower
till it had wilted you reverently laid it
away in some book, didn’t you? And
you have them yet—nor is there gold
enough in all the world to buy those
After ever so long a time, as you
thought- ages it seemed to your im
patience,—she said “Yes”—and let you
Wasn’t that a glorious night?
You walked on air as you went back
to your home, didn't you?
You were in such a state of happy
exhilaration that you couldn’t sleep.
Are you ashamed to admit that deep
down in your heart was a tender
thankfulness to the God who had bless
ed you with the love of so good a wo
Ah, well—you were married to her,
and you two commenced the upward
How hard the climb of the hill!
What labor there was; what disap
pointments; what days of bleak de
spondency; what nights of black de
In that terrible climb of the hill, did
you neglect your wife?
Did you fail of that tender considera
tion that was her due?
Did you sometimes bring your cloud
ed face and soured mind to the fireside
and morosely impose your own suffer
ings ^jtpon her?
Were those sweet lips made to
tremble in mute pain?—those fond
eyes to shed secret tears?
Happy the husband who can say, “I
never did.” Wretch that I
After awhile children came to you.
Then were renewed the delights of
Christmas eve and Christmas morning.
To settle upon what should be bought
for the children’s stockings; to smug
gle these selections into the house; to
watch the little ones hang up their
stockings; to hear their guesses and
speculations as to what Santa Cluus
will bring me; so and so; and then, af
ter they had cuddled down and were
sound asleep—do you remember how
you and your wife went back into the
room where the stockings hung?
There was pleasure in it—and yet
there was sadness, too.
It was late in the night when you
were acting Santa Claus for your little
ones, and it was time for sober thoughts.
Would next ChristmaH eve find all the
Would these merry voices mingle in
the hubbub over the gifts of Santa
Claus, and would three happy faces
shine as they came running to you
with: “See what Santa Claus brought
Or, upon next Christmas eve would
you be sitting alone by the dying fire,
racked with a pain that would never,
never lose its power to torture—because
upon this Christmas eve there are but
The years pass, pass, pass—and now
you're on the western slope of the hill.
The wife who climbed tho hill with
you is still at your side.
No matter who else failed you, she
did not. No matter who else found fault
with you, she never did. If ever she
spoke to you unkindly, or served you
reluctantly, or fell short of perfect wife
ly devotion, you did not realize it.
How can you reward this noble wife?
Will you not prove to her that you
Will you not bring to her that splen
did loyalty which a proud woman prizes
more highly than a miser prizes gold?
In word, in thought, in deed, will you
not be as true to her as she has been
Will you not prove by the unfailing
tenderness with which you minister to
her happiness now the depth of your re
morse for your shortcomings in those
Will you not call back the spirit of
But perhaps you are of another sort.
Perhaps you think all this very silly.
Maybe the softening touch of the
Christmas time softens nothing in you.
I pray God it may not be so.
For your sake as well as your wife’s,
The only human being that you can
absolutely count on to stand by you, in
spite of the world, the Hesh and the
devil, is your wife.
Children will grow up and pass on
ward—out of your life and into one of
Relatives and friends may go with
you a long way, but they will not go all
Your wife will.
In all the universe, you can’t be sure
of anyone hut her.
Then make the most of her. Are her
cheeks faded? Kiss her on the lips, and
then see the roses blossom once more
on those cheeks.
Have her eyes been swollen and dim
Put your arms about her and tell her
you love her just as much as you ever
Then watch the light of joy kindle in
those eyes till they sparkle as brightly
Ah, it is so easy to make n woman
happy if the right man wants to do it.
And tho right man to make your wife
happy is you.
Think of the nights when you were
sick unto death, and she nursed you;
think of the fearful agonies of the birth
hour when she brought your children
into the world; think of the long-drawn
years in which she has daily done the
drudgery of a slave; think how she has
had to bear the cross of your troubles
am—I as well as her own; think of what she
lias had to go through with in the rear
ing of your children; think of her
cramped, dull and monotonous life at
home while you were mingling with the
bustling crowds of the outside world.
Think of all this, brother, and allow
much for the jaded, faded wife.
Go to her tod warm your own heart,
aR well as hors, by talking to her in the
old, old way of lovers.
Court her again, as you courted her
when you were both young.
Tell her she’s just as pretty as ever.
This may possibly not be the truth; but,
if a lie at all, it will be the whitest one
you ever told.
The recording angel may feel in duty
bound to charge it up on the debit side
of your account, but as he washes it
out afterwards with a tear he will enter
an item to your credit on tho other side
of the ledger, and he will write it in
letters of gold.
Failure of the Thonasville Paper.
The recent failure of the Thomasville
Times-linterprine, now being conduct
ed under tne auspices of a receiver
pending a sale of the property, is
worthy of more than passing comment.
For a number of years the Times-
Enterprise wus conducted by Col. .John
Triplett. It wna doubtless n matter of
hard work and wise economizing to
keep the paper above the waves at
many times, hut Col. Triplett managed
to do so for a long period and to make
its influence felt to a considerable ex
tant in his home county and those adja
cent to it. Col. Triplett withdrew from
journalism several years ago. and since
then the paper haB been in other hands.
In recent yearH the cost of making a
newspaper has vastly increased. Tbo
demands of the public have become
more onerous, more expensive plants
have been required by existing condi
tions, tho cost of labor has gone stead
ily up, as has that of raw paper and
other supplies. It is a fairly safe as
sertion that it costs thirty per cent,
mors to get out a small daily to-day
than it did four or five years ago. And
there has been, as a general rule, no
corresponding increase in the income
of papers. Only in growing, thriving
communities has it been possible for
a newspaper to keep the income on u
parity with the increase in the abso
lutely necessary expenditures. Evi
dently the Thomasville paper was not
one of this class.
One of the mistaken ideas somewhat
prevalent is that any small city ean
support a daily paper. This is one of
the grievous errors of judgment that
has led to the squandering of many
thousands of dollars and the filling of
newspaper cemeteries with blasted
hopes. There are several cities in
Georgia to-day where small dailies are
being published that really cannot aud
do not afford legitimate support for
daily newspapers. The end of some of
these papers is painfully apparent.
Tfle old idea that if one paper was a
good thing for a small city, two or
three were a hetser thing, has been
effectually exploded by experience.
Many small cities that had two now
have hut one paper, business men real
izing that one fairly good paper is bet
ter than two half-starved newspapers
always on tho verge of bankruptcy.
The failure of the Thomasville pa
per, after nineteen years of life, is to
be regretted. It is to be hoped that it
will fall into hands that will be able to
put it on its feet again.
Would you have swapped places with ' the days of your courtship, and be juat
a king that day when she first accepted as proud of her kiss, just as happy to
your invitation to a buggy ride? | take her to your arms, as on that glorious
When she came close to you and pin- j night when she promised to beyoura, and
ned the hyacinth or the violet to your ; yielded her queenly Lipa to your kiaeT
Children’s Day in a Dental Office.
“I wish to-morrow were over,” said
a young dentist on Friday night.
“And why?” asked the patient, ad
miring her new porcelain inlay.
“Saturday is children’s day, and by
night I haven’t a nerve in my makeup
that isn’t on edge. It isn’t so much
the children themselves who are a nui
sance, but their mothers. They insist
on standing at the side of the chair
all during the operation, and every five
minutes they ask if it hurts, or if it
wouldn’t he better to do thus and so
with tho tooth. The children them
selves invariably cry, but I am accus
tomed to that. If that was all they
did I wouldn’t mind, but they bite
down on my fingers, wiggle all over the
chair, an I, what is worse, they romp
about the office and make life miserable
for the patient in the chair. If I were
beginning my practice over again I
wouldn’t touch a child. I can’t stop
now without losing some of my best
More Danville Proof.
Jacob Schrall, 432 South St., Danville,
III., writes: “For over eighteen months
I was a sufTerer from kidaey and blad
der trouble. During the whole tirre
was treated by several doctors and tried
several different kidney pills. Seven
weeks ago I commenced taking Foley’s
Kidney Pills, and am feeling better
every day and will be glad to tell any
one interested just what Foley’s Kidney
Pills did for me.” Sold by all druggims.
A man is willing to guess about his
business, hut Le wants lo predict the
Tho school census-taker stopped at a
little hut in the mountains, and. ad
dressing the motner of an unusually
large flock of children, said:
“Madam. I am taking the school cen
sus. How many children have you be
tween the ages of six and--”
“Lemme see,” she broke in; “there
is Kate an’ Mary an’ Annio an’ Lucy
an’ Carrie an’ Rob an’ Jake an’ Will
an’ Harry an’ Jim an’-—” She paused
for breath and her caller mude haste
“Now, madam, if you could just give
me the number—”
“Number!” she snapped; “numberl
We ain’t commenced numberin' yit.
thank ye. We ain’t run out o’ names.”
The generally accepted belief that a
person is useful in proportion as he is
busv, is controverted by a writer who
“( have a dog that loaded up with
fleas. In the summer time, when lht»
fleas are plentiful, that is the busiest
dog 1 ever saw; when he isn’t biting
at the fleas, he’s snapping at flies. Ho
never has a minute to spare, but when
he is the busiest he is the least uc*
count for practical purposes. And
there ia a young fellow in my neigh
borhood who has a cheap watch and nit
smokes cigarettes. When he isn’t wind*
ing his watch he is lighting a cigareti*.
He is a mighty busy young man, but
he iBii’t worth two hoops on a water
barrel.”—Rule (Tex ) Review.
n y 1
cold coming on, take Foley’s Honey and
Tar, the greut throat and lung remedy.
It stops the cough, relieves the conges
tion, and expels the cold from vour
a •” !■» mildly laxative. Sold