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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 . r^4£^9UUc'.l.Wt.u< uAiklMuaMbt. r. %-UiU V.T :C.m‘JS\VUA *1 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. m vaaatt ui i •■# B/Msrrrjv.'nrTvra trwttrxrmarfv l!« fi ; 11 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.