Newspaper Page Text
NEWNAN HERALD & ADVERTISER
VOL. X LIX.
NEWNAN, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 17, 1914,
NO. 42
Farmers’
Supply Store
summer-time
big stove out
our customers
business to be had
want satisfied custo-
Winter is gone and the “good old
is with us. We have moved the
and have in its place ice water for
and friends.
We are out for all the GOOD
for CASH OR ON TIME. We
mers, as they are the greatest asset in our kind of
business. We sell nearly every article that is needed
on a well-kept farm. Our prices arc based on quality
and consistent business principles.
We wish to call your attention to the “Star” brand
shoes. These shoes come direct, from the shoemaker’s
bench to the customer. These are the shoes that
WEAR and please the wearer.
We have a stock of select peas and sorghum seed
for sale.
Genuine Cuban molasses, direct from Cuba, in the
old-time punchions.
FLOUR
so
ask
We want everybody to have good biscuit,
you to try our “Desoto” brand of flour.
We cordially invite all our friends, when in town,
to come to our store. You will be always welcome.
I. G. FARMER G SONS COM
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Ten million miles of advertising.
A half-million Fords, averaging
twenty miles a day, circle the world
four hundred times every twenty-
four hours. If the car wasn’t right
this tremendous publicity would
put the Company out of business.
The Ford is its own best salesman.
A demonstration is a revelation
—take yours today.
Five hundred dollars is the new price of the
Ford runabout; the touring car is five fifty;
the town car seven fifty—f. o. b. Detroit,
complete with equipment. Get catalogue and
particulars from NEWNAN AUTO CO.,
Newnan. Ga.
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WHAT WOULD WE DO WITHOUT THEM?
You can knock doaroat. woman a** much as you
will;
You can apeak of tho fact that her toague’a never
still;
You can toll how sha Roes after bargains and
paints
Her face. How at sight of a mousey she faints:
Steps backward from street cars, looks under the
bed
For burglars, and wears piles of hair on her head;
Hut wouldn’t the world be n dreary old waste
With nary a woman in all the place?
You can knock the dear ct-cature, 1 say, and all
that;
You can joke at the lean ones and joke at the fat;
You can sneer at each alit, each feather, each
plume,
At their beautiful cosmetic drugstore bloom:
You can laugh at the way they go after the
change
In poor hubby’s trousers at night. The whole
range
Of the lair creatures’ foibles here 1 might trace
Hut we’d leave if we had nary one in this place.
TWO KINDS OF MOTHER LOVE.
A Look At Our fllotorcycles
11
R.
Jackson St.
L.
Will show you what hand
some and well built machines
they are. But a ride on one
is the test that proves them
the easiest and fastest run
ning motorcycles made. Light
as possible, consistent with
high power and strength they
carry one over hill and dale
at amazing speed. Come and
take a spin in one. That will
make you a buyer of one.
Askew
Newnan, Ga.
Dorothy Dix in Atlnnta Geoiuinn.
Do you remember Frank Stockton’s
whimsical story, ‘‘The Lady or the Ti
ger?” and the dilemma of the jealous
princess whose lover had to open one of
two gates, behind one of which was a
famished tiger, and behind the other a
beautiful woman he had to marry, and
the princess was to give him a secret
signal of which gate to choose?
A problem in real life, just as poig
nant and as hard to decide as the Lady
or the Tiger, is furnished by the case
of Mrs. Jagendorf, who is called upon
to choose between her mother love and
the welfare of her child.
Mrs. Jagendorf is a poor woman of
humble station in life, who, having
more little mouths to feed and more
babies to look after than she could man
age, in a moment of desperation gave
the littlest baby and the one that cried
the most to a woman of whom she
knew nothing, to take care of. As
there was no money forthcoming for
the baby’s keep the woman got tired of
it and left it in a doorway, from which
it was rescued and sent to a foundling
asylum, and from there, so strange are
the turns of the wheel of fate, the in
fant was adopted by a wealthy family
and taken out West to live.
It appears that outraged mother love
at last woke up in Mrs. Jagendorf’s
breast, and, after having given her
baby away to a casual stranger she met
in the street, she began to pine for the
lost child, and to seek it through all of
the institutions of the city.
At last her search has been rewarded
in so far that the child has been traced,
and its whereabouts and well-being es
tablished. It has been adopted by a
family of wealth, education and fine so
cial standing. It bears their name and
is loved and cherished in every respect
as if it were their own child, and it will
be given every advantage of education
and association. It will have every
chance in life, and if left alone it will
never know that its foster parents are
not its real parents.
But this poor mother demands her
child, and has appealed to the law to
restore it to her, although she knows
perfectly well that she sacrifices the
child in doing so.
She will take the child from a luxu
rious home to a bare and poor one; she
will drag it down to a lower station in
life; she will deprive it of the advanta
ges of education, and the start in life
that cut off so many weary years of
struggles; she will give it toil for ease,
want for plenty, shabby clothes for
good ones, and all just to gratify her
own maternal instinct.
It is an interesting situation. What
would you do if the case was your own?
Would you love your child so passion
ately that you would take it back at
any cost to the child, or would you be
capable of the sublime unselfishness of
mother love that would enable you to
efface yourself completely from the
child’s life, if it was for that child's
good?
If you were desperately poor and
knew that your child was destined to
become a pitiful, stunted little child
slave if you kept it, would you be heroic
enough to give it to those who could
care for it and give it the opportunity
for health and life that you could not?
If you were unfortunately placed in an
evil environment so that your child’s
association would be contaminating,
would you have the courage to send it
away from you into a purer atmos
phere, although by so doing you were
as much parted from it as you would
be by death? Or would you offer up
your child on the altar of your mother
love, and keep it in your arms, no mat
ter what the consequences to the child.
Sometimes a woman loves her child
well enough to stand aside for its good.
A notable case is that of young Ziegler,
whose parents gave him to the wealthy
baking powder mannfacturer for adop
tion, and I myself know of a case
where a woman who lives in the red
light district of a city Bent her little
girl away before she was old enough to
understand the sort of a life her mother
led. This woman worships her child,
hut she has had the child taught that
her mother is dead. Twice every year
she goes and feasts her eyes upon the
girl, who is now grown, but she never
speaks to her, and the little convent-
bred maiden will never know who is the
tall, sad-faced stranger she passes on
the street, or sits near sometimes in a
restaurant or theater.
It's a tragic and pitiful tale of moth
er love, isn’t it, but can anyone dispute
that this woman is doing the right thing
by the girl?
It. seems to me that in any conflict
between mother love and the child’s
good, the mother should efface herself.
Her duty is to the child, no matter how
it wrenches her heart to perform it.
She has thrust life, unasked, upon tho
child. It is a hard gift, at best, and if
she can make the burden of it any
easier, give the child better opportuni
ties, or open wider doors to it, she is
criminally selfish if she refuses to do so.
Her thought should always be for the
child, not herself. Unfortunately, this
is not always the ense. Mother love is
not invariably alltruistic. Frequently
it is the most selfish passion on eurth.
Many a woman blights her children’s
lives because she loves them so much
that she cannot bear to he parted from
them, and refuses to let them go where
fortune beckons them. We all know
mothers who have kept talented boys,
with the ability to do big things in
them, tied down to drudgery, without
hope, in a village store, because they
went into hysterics every time the boys
spoke about going away from home.
We have known mothers whose love
waB so selfish it turned their daughters
into household drudgeB rather than let
them leave home to follow careers full
of profit and congeniality.
And we’ve all known mothers whose
love turned into a rankling jealousy
that made them keep their children
from marrying if they could, and when
they couldn’t, inspired them to inter
fere between husbands and wives until
they wrecked their children’s homes.
There are two kinds of mother love
the selfish and the unselfish. Which
have you? And what would you do if
you were called upon to decide between
having your child with you, and by
parting from it give it a thousand ad
vantages and chances in life that you
could never offer it?
Good to Be Alive.
Seattle Post-Intelligrenecr.
Paltry details of life fall away from
one like leaves in autumn in these
hand-painted days. There is refresh
ing sweetness in the air, the new vigor
and courage, and a physical uplift that
drives away the small troubles of life
like chaff before the wind and makes
man one with the sky, the cedars and
all of God’s out-of-doors.
It is a long journey between child
hood and old age; a long pull and a
hard >^ne, and the hand-painted days
are the cases in the desert of monoton
ous everyday life. It is enough, on
these days, to stand erect in the sun
shine and look up into the sky and
breathe the balmy air laden with the
scent of woodland, and feel the thrill of
new life in one’s veins. It is good on
days like this simply to have lived.
Considerations of suaccss or failure in
material affairs are forgotten; if one
have debts they fade away; if one have
troubles they no longer exist. JuBt to
Btand upon the crest and raise one’s
eyes and live and breathe and be at.
one with nature j s enough. It is good,
then, just to have lived.
There was a day ages ago when man
lived in the open and by right of might
sustained his brood. Few were his
real troubles, and these soon ended;
none of the small, trilling, continuing
everyday troubles of the present man,
but great vital issues arose in which
he either lived or died, and in either
case ended them. His being was rooted
in the life and nature about him, and
his good strong arms and limbs were
consins of the cedars.
In the long ages since, civilization
has bred an intellect in man, hut
warped and shrunken his physical body
and made him the prey of grisly phan
toms conjured by tho artificialities of
his new life, and increased the number
of his wants. He has set out upon an
endless chase for induced and stimu
lated needs, and if he does not over
take them all he is unhappy.
So to stand for a time and throw
aside the trifles of our workaday life,
and he at one with nature, is but a
reversion to the primitive life into
which man was born. And at such
times we still can feel that it is good
just to have lived.
Be Sure You Get Your Bearings.
Jami's II. Nt'vins in Atlanta Georgian,
It would be just as well, perhaps, all
things considered, if some of the more
partisan and intolerant followers of
both Senator Smith and Governor Brown
would get their hearings before the
campaign progresses to thnt point
where, for one reason and another, get
ting one’s bearings may he extremely
difficult—if it gets to that point.
It seems to not a few observers of
events and things that some of Senator
Smith’s over-zealous enthusiasts arc
making the same tactical and fatal
mistake that some of them made in the
first and most famous of all the Smith-
Brown contests—the mistake of sneer
ing at and ridiculing the little man
from Marietta.
A disposition to refer to “Little Joe”
in terms of contempt and to refer to
him as a “two-by-four statesman,” and
so on, has cropped out already in some
quarters./
Sneers and gibes may be very funny
—when one is carried away by partisan
zeal—but upon them "Joe” Brown has
waxed fat and prosperous politically in
the past, and he might again!
Take it from one who means well,
anyway, fellows—there’s nothing to it!
Better cut it out. It has the moBt ter
rific back kick of any sort of talk this
writer can imagine. "Little Joe" is
"Little Joe,” and he isn’t, never was,
and never will be anybody’s fool!
On the other hand, some of Gov.
Brown’s followers also have been strick
en with a form of midsummer madness
that most probably isn’t getting them
anywhere.
There isn’t any use in protesting that
Senator Smith is "afraid to face the
people," and that his disinclination to
return from Washington and plunge
into a stumping tour of the State at
this time indicates an admitted “weak
ness” on his part.
Senator Smith belongs in Washington
—there is where his post of duty is —
and Georgians are not apt to think he
is "skoered” merely because he refuses
to come home and orate the while his
work in the National Congress is neg
lected.
Senator Smith is one of the main de
pendencies of the White House in the
Congress. The President is looking to
him for aid and support in putting into
effect the full platform of the Democ
racy as the President sees it. The Sen
ator will get more votes in Georgia be
cause of his devotion to duty than he
would get by Btumping tho State while
his work suffered in his absence.
Georgia is not going to believe that
he is "afraid” of somebody because he
refuses to neglect his Senatorial duty.
Oscar Underwood stuck to his job in
Washington while HobBon tried in ev
ery conceivable way for months to un
horse him. Hobson’s neglect of his duty
in Washington coat him dearly—as it
should have —and Underwood’s calm
and dignified attended to duty won him
thousands of sane and level-headed
friends.
Cured of Indigestion.
Mrs. Sadie P. Clawson, Indiana, Pa.,
was bothered with indigestion. "My
Btomach pained me night and day,” she
writes. "I would feel bloated and
have headache and helching after eat
ing. I also suffered from constipation.
My daughter had used Chamberlain’s
Tablets and they did her so much good
that she gave me a few doses of them
and insisted upon my trying them.
They helped me as nothing else has
done.” For sale by all dealers.
“What kind of a man is that fellow
Ponsonby?”
"Very disappointing.”
“What do you mean?”
"He approaches like the bearer of
glad tidings and ends by trying to bor
row money.”
A Medical Flareback.
Washington I*ohL
The celerity with which the medicos
proceed from one theory to another has
been aptly illustrated in the anecdote
of tho patient who reminded his physi
cian that tho course of treatment
recommended was altogether different
from that prescribed the month before.
‘‘But you must remember," said the
great man with much dignity, “that
science has made remarkable strides
since then!
Not all, however, is in this direction.
At times the trend is distinctly re
trogressive. A case in point is found
in the experience of a California man
who was bitten by a rattlesnake. His
solicitous friends were pouring in the
liquor, when the physician stopped
them. Whiskey, he said, was by no
means a sure antidote for snake bite.
At best it was palliative and not cur
ative. And under no circumstances
was it to bo absorbed quant, suff., as
the doctors have it, but rather in min
ute and broken doses—a small drink,
Bay, at intervals of fifteen or twenty
minutes.
Despite the tendency to swallow all
that the doctors give us, it will be hard
to swallow this. Tradition has hallowed
the whisky cure idea. It is part of the
national faith. We’ve heard it from
the cradle. It’s all mixed up in child
hood’s memories with stories of Santa
Claus and the tale of Mobob in the bull-
rushes. And now to wrench it from
its established place in one’s very being
becomes almost a profanation. There
are other cares, of course. There’s a
chicken, for example. When bitten by
a copperhead you will kill a chicken,
split it open and bind it over the wound.
The rule is two chickens; but, as the
mountain girl said, who had tried one,
“Seems a pity to waste another
chicken.” With rattlesnake bite, how
ever, nothing but whisky will answer.
It’s the same way with insomnia. As
the gentleman addicted to wafiaail and
wakefulness pronounced, ‘‘You keep on
drinkin’, and if that don’t answer,
drink some more; insomnia is when you
want to sleep and can’t, and by re
peatin’ the dose, by and by you don’t
care whether you go to sleep or not; if
that ain’t a cure, what is?”
Headache and Ner70usness Oared.
‘‘Chamberlain’s Tablets are entitled
to all the praise I can give them.”
writes Mrs. Richard Olp, Spencerport,
N. Y. "They have cured me of head
ache and nervousness and restored me
to my normal health.” For sale by ail
dealers.
"No man is as well known as he
thinks he is,"says Caruso. "I was mo
toring on Long Island some time ago.
My car broke down, and I entered a
farm-house to get warm. The farmer
and I chatted, and when he asked
my name, I told him modestly that it
was Caruso. At that name he threw
up his hands.”
“ ‘Caruso!’ he exclaimed. ‘Robinson
Caruso, the great traveler! Little did 1
expect ever to see a man like yer in
this here humble kitchen, sir!’ ”
Love heads the list of
that soon turn sour.
sweet thingB
The colored defendant, who was be
ing tried on a charge of keeping a dog
without a license, tried repeatedly to
interrupt the legal proceedings, but
each time was sternly silenced by the
court. Finally the Judge turned to
him.
“Do you want the court to under
stand,” he said, "that you refuse to
renew your dog license?”
‘‘Yessah, but—”
‘‘Wo want no‘huts.’ You must re
new the license or be fined. You know
that it expired on January first, don’t
you?”
“YeBBah; but so did de dog, Bah."
IT IS SERIOUS.
Some Newnan .People Fail to Realize
the Seriousness of a Bad Back.
The constant aching of a bad back.
The weariness, the tired feeling,
The pains and aches^of kidney ills,
May result seriously if neglected.
Dangerous urinary troubles often
follow.
A Newnan citizen shows you what
to do.
C. N. Baker, 14 Carmichael St.,
Newnan, Ga., says: “Riding over
rough roads brought a severe strain oa
my kidneys and off and on for four
years I suffered from a dull, weary ache
across my back. The kidney secretions
became highly colored and I realized
that my kidneys needed treatment. A
short time ago I heard about Doan’s
Kidney Pills and procured a box from
the Leo Drug Co. They quickly re
lieved me and acted beneficially ia
every way. I shall always be grate
ful for what th io remedy has done for
me. ”
Price fide, at all dealers. Don’t sim
ply ask for a kidney remedy—get Doan’s
Kidney Pills—the same that Mr. Baker
had. Foster-Milhurn Co., Props., Buf
falo. N, Y.
The Fact Remains
No amount of misrepresentation by the
peddlers of alum baking powders, no jug
gling with chemicals, or pretended analysis,
or cooked-up certificates, or falsehoods of
any kind, can change the fact that
Royal Baking Powder
has been found by the offi
cial examinations to be of the
highest leavening efficiency,
free from alum, and oi absolute
purity and wholesomeness.
Royal Baking Powder is indispensable
for making finest and most economical food.