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VOL. IV. ~CHAPTER: TRION R. A. CHAPTER. No. 19, meats at Trion on the Friday night before the third Sunday in April, May, June, July, August, and Septem ber and on Saturday night before the third Sunday in October, Novemper, December, January, Feb-uary, and March. 0. C. BRYAN, 11. P. G. B. MYERS. Seet’y. ATTORNEYS: J. M. Robertson, Attorney at Law, and Solicitor in Chancery. CtIATTANOOUA, - - TENN. PTIACTICR in Clwnrnrjr, Circuit :’n»l Supreme ‘Jourt* m' TemiessKM and U- Dial-tat Court. Ai*‘» itt adjalninf rnmitlMlnWwirjia. ft/- tfßca in Csurt Mouse. Robert M. If.'. Glenn, Attorney at Law, LaFayktte, - - - - Gkoroia. Wit, I, PRACTICE in the SupeiiorCourt* ofthe liotye and adjoining circuit*. Collection* a ajH*c'alty. Office ua cor.ter opposite Drug ►tore, t ' ,1 .15 3m. J«MIX i'BKLAN, **• Phelan A Goree, Attorneys at Law, Pops Block, 249 Market St., MI&TTAMiIIiUA, ... TENNESSEE IU,U, P. Jacoway, Attorney* at Law, Trenton, - - - - Georgia. PRACTICE in the counties of Dade, Walker and i'at.vMA, and adjoining counties, and in tint Fu |>rcme and Feder ii «:ou t* A‘so, Jackson. *. cKallt an (i< Jheroken, lit North Alaham*, mid elsewhere hr «ipeci <1 contract. Special attention given to the col lection of eUira*. W.tM. Henry, Attorney at Law, Summerville, - - - - Georgia. ■\irilalj practl e In the Rom** and adjoining Cir- W cult*. Collections a specialty. J. Clements, Attorney at Law, LaFayette, - - - Georgia. -v it | \ t practice ill the several comUicH of the W !totn« and Cherokee Circuits, and the Supreme ITourr of (Jcorgi*. F. V. Copeland, Attorney at Law, T, Fayette, - - - Georgia. "MAT 11,1. practice in the Superior Courts, of Rome W Circuit. Kl-ewhrr** »*v special agroemeut. t;ol fort ions a spciaty. (Office In rear of Culberson’* H»orv.) 11. P. Lumpkin, Attorney at Law, LaFayette - - Georgia. tl.l. ttiv prompt attention to all business f ♦* wn trusted to him. ft/- Office at Shu lord fc LumpMn’a store. DENTISTS: Dr. Geo. B. Jordan, Resident Dentist, Rising Fawn, - - - - Ga. Offer* hi« professional services to the people o( Dade and Walker counties. Dental operations per form* d in a neat and Riitistantial muni er. All work w*rrmted to give perfect satisfaction. Will make a professional «rlr* through McLe morvK 1 t’ove. on the rtr*t of eat h mouth. Dr.J. P. Pann, Resident Denti*t. Da r.To.v, - - - Georgia. jjMI _ -jji TAM PREPARED with all ilib fffiyrafiCSiL 1 Modern liuprovemcui* in Dental to turn out a* good work a* can be had In the St tc, and .it as low price* a* uan he doueby anv firatclass worknnn. ft/-| guarantee all woik turned nut to stand any nd %!l reasonable tests. Speci.nl attention given to correct!ng irregularities in children’s teeth. ft/*ijnd|e* wai'ed on at Ilnur residence, when un able -o visit llie office. A liberal share of patronage solicited, CQMiffice: ITp-stair* on Hamilton street, opposite N* ional Motel. Will visit LaFavette, Walker Co., at Superior Ooirts August and February. HOTELS: HAMILTON HOUSE, CHATTANOOGA, TENN. J. T;t. * LKQ,. prop's. Centrally Located ; <*ood Accommodation*; Kate* Reasonable. Terms; sl-50 to $2-00 per Day- THE ROME HOTEL, llroad Sit., Rome, €<a. I* TUM Stkp: Os THE KaII ROAD. AO OMNIBUS NEEDED IOOATF.D in the Principal Buslmcfb Square of Jllie City, convenient M the Wha*f, the Hanks and the Post Office, and is thoroughly renovated and r< painted. J. L. M. E.STBS, Proprietor. NATIONAL HOTEL, J. ((. A. LEWIS, Prop’r. Dalton, - - - Georgia, This house is a large four-story brick, within a few steps of the Passenger do- BOARD PER DAY - * * $2.00 Polite and attentive porters at every train; pass them your checks, walk right over and make yourself at home. W. M. LEWIS, Clerk. oj A. JB DKAI.KK IN— Staple Dry Goods, FANCY ANB FAMILY GROCERIES. Viikindsof produce taken in exchange for goods. # We keep the best wagon yard in the o'.ty. and feed stock at reasonable rates Our yarJ is free tu all during the day Walker County Messenger Giiess IV hot lIV .1. C. I. A NORTON. “Guess who?” Ah, I knew by my bosom's own thrilling, And I sighed with regret for (he days that had lied; l And my heart was awakened to many a feeling, That I thought long ago had been withered and dead. Like founts in the wilderness dismal and dreary, The letters you traeed brought a balm to my breast; Tile flowers, like pint to the mariner weary, In tenderness breathed a soft whisper of rest. Sweet emblems of friendship! ye still shall be cherished, For tlie sake of the giver, tho’ far, far away, When my hopes, like the swift fleeting rainbow have perished, And friends have forsaken, as changing as they. As strangers we met—as friends we have parted, The years may he long ere I’ll meet you again; On a wide-severed pathway our vessels have started, To he rocked on the waves of a wreck covered main. But tho’ the last rays of the daylight, declining, Shall sink from my gaze in tho dark ness of gloom; Tho’ the tremulous light-house of Hope shall cease shining, And my barque may unguided drift on to its doom, — Yet tile starlighted eyes of my boy hood’s dreaming •Shall shine o’er the darkness like Hope o’er the tomb, And the thoughts of the past, like the flowers you sent me, | Shall shed on the tempest the richest perfume! ‘‘Cues who?” Who can tell where thy thoughts are now straying? And who is the hero that brightens thy dreams ? Ah! who may reveal what the future’s arraying To darken with shadows the sunshine it seems! But be it thy lot that the green arbor vitaes Os pleasure shall shadow life’s stream to its goal, And violets bloom by its clear, eiystal waters. To sweeten the tide of thy years as they roll. And when Ago comes as soft as the pulse of the midnight, To soar with thy spirit away oil his wing, May thy life be as sweet'in its beauti ful twilight, As the fragrance that breathed from the flowers of Spring! The Doctor’s Story. We were a knot of doctors, en joying ourselves after meeting of the Hippocratic Medical Society, whose members were accustomed to assemble ot ce a year for the pur pose of mutual edification and im provement. Dr. Galen Cupps was in the chair. He was our Nestor, our old man eloquent, a living pro fessional legendary budget. On his face you could read “Entertain meEt” as plainly as you could see it painted on an old fashioned tav ern sign; and to it, after a day of weary rambling over the dusty paths of therapeuratic lore, we turned as naturally for refreshment as the tired wayfarer halts before the inviting signboard waving hos pitable welcome to the cheer with in. Genial Dr. Cupps ! Like Father Grimes, t’uat good old man, “we’ll never see him p.ny more.” No mon ument marks his last resting place. The guild of undertakers, possessed they a spark of gratitude, would not suffer this to he. As for his surviving professional brethren, few of us I fear have money to spend in that way, "How do young doctors, as a rule get their start?" queried a cynical looking M. D. at the foot of tlie ta ble, with a nose as sharp as tlie tip of his own out, of; course excep'ional cases, like that j of a man swallowing a fishbone, or ; dropping suddenly into a fit, where J there is no choice but tG seek the nearest aid. What I ask is, how do people come to trust their lives > deliberately in inexperienced hands? What’s the philosophy of it ?” “Popular ignorance, probablyj suggested one. ‘ Or cheek in the youngster,” an. other hinted “It’s mostly luck, I think,” re! LAFAYETTE, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, M ARC H 31, 1881. marked tlie chair, upon whom had j been turned a number of inquiring looks. “Come, doctor, give us your ex- I perience on the point was seconded | and carried." 'Mine was n case of pure luck,’ said lie. 'Won’t you tell us about?’ we j entreated. I)r. Cupps was not the man torc fuso. ‘Young men now-n-days,’ he be g<-n; ‘enter the profession with otlu r advantages than we old fel lows had. The public hospitals, now accessible to students, afford them opportunities to learn much by observation, which ice were left to find out through experiments on our patients. 'Though I took my degree after a creditable examination, I doubt if I could then have distinguished, by inspection, between the incipi ent stages of chicten-pox and mea sles. Had I been called to treat a simple case of rhematism, ten to one I should have found a verdict of white-swelling, and passed a sen tence of araputition w'tl o it et p ping to ask the patient what he had to say against it. My first patient was Percy Topham, a young man who had inherited a splendid con stitution as well as fortune, but fast making away with both. The case no doubt, would have fallen in Dingo’s hands, for lie monopolized the practice thereabout, but for his absence on a distant call. “Come quick, sir!” urged the Messenger; ‘Mr. Percy is taking on at an awful rate.’ ‘Without staying to inquire fur ther, I snatched my hat and sallied forth, quite forgetting in the ex citement, the new pill-lnigs wherein was stored my stock of samples. ‘I arrived to find my patient 'taking on’ a* an awful rate, sure enough. ‘Poxer in hand, lie was laying about him in a manner highly det rimental to the furniture. He was Id ling snakes, lie said. Ha l it been i loijs, hydrophibia might have been my diagnosis; but snakes I knew, meant delirium tremens. And sucli was the decision of Mr. i'opman’s own more practiced judgment for, turning towards me in a lucid ino ment: ‘l’ve got ’em I)oc,’ he said. ‘I did mv best to calm him, as sured him I should bring him around, placed my fingers on his pulse, and began to count the heals | but, darting from me he exclaimed: ‘There goes the biggest snake yet —the old serpent ot all 1’ making a slash with poker, which caused me to dodge into a corner. ‘Leaving two to watch him, and accompanied by the man who sum moned me, I hurried home to pre pare such remedies as I should con elude the case required—a point, I must confess, a was very far from clear upon. I had been reared in a temperate community, had seen little intoxication or its effects, and rny reading had not borne specially in that direction. ‘Before reaching my office, how ever, I decided wiiat course to take There was no time to consult the books. Besides I was ashamed to do that in tlie presence of the man who waited to carry back the phys ic. He would have taken it as a con fession of ignorance, and would have lost no time in proclaiming me a dunce. ‘Overhauling my stock of drugs, j and taking a little from every one i I produced a mixture, some ele- \ ment of which I hoped might prove j a service. ‘Give him a tablespoonful of it! every half hour,’ I said to the man, i handing him the bottle, on which 1 was careful to put no lable. ‘Not caring to he present to wit ness tiie effect of my maiden pre- j scriptien, ‘Tell Mr. Topman I’ll i call in the morning,’ I said* ‘Whatever my patient did, I ! passed u bad night. Os all cases ■ in which to make a debut, why should the malignant fates send the very one most likely to expose ; me ? ‘With many misgivings I prt 4 sented myself next morning at the patient’s door. I was glad to see there was no crape on it. I hur-1 ried, trembling, to the sick room. J ‘Good morning Doc,’ cried the in j valid, rising from a sumptuous j breakfast, wiping his mouth with j one hand and extending me the other. ‘By George, you did bring me through famously ! That stuff was mighty nasty, hut it did the | business. I'm sound as a dollar this morning!' •Before I could reply, a serving man entered, the same by whom I hud sent the medicine. ‘What’s the matter, Dick ?’ said Topham. Boxer’s dead, sir.’ ‘Dead ! The deuce 1 Ther’s a go ! j I suppose you forgot to call at Butts,’ the farrier’s for that drench yesterday; just like you, when my back is turned. ‘No, sir,” the man replied : ‘I stopped and got it on my way from the doctor’s and gave it according to direction.’ ‘Just my luck!’ cried Topham, smiting the table. "You 3ee, Doc, Boxer was my fastest trotter. I counted on winning a mint of money on him at the coming races, and now lie’s gone and kicked the bucket. Well, ‘peace to his manes !' as the poet says. Here, Dick, hand the doctor that medicine bottle on the mantle. He may ns well (ill it up again. This mornings luck may set me on a fresh spree, and there's no telling how soon I may need an other dose.’ ‘A glance at the bottle as I look it made me start. It bore a lahle, on which I read Simon Botts, Farrier. ‘Can it be,’l mentally exclaimed. ‘ that it was Batts' portion that cured the man, and mine that killed the liorsc V It was a strong of cir curnstantial evidence, at any rate. ‘Quietly pocketing the bottle, I west my way. If the truth was as [ surmised, it never came out. lop ham sounded my praises every where, and soon the local denth-iist was pretty equally filled with the names of Bingo's patients and my own.” Aunt Jciihma’s Court ship. Waal, girls—if you must know — reckon ] must tell ye. Waal, ’twas in the winter time, and fatlu r and I were sitting alone in the kitchen. We wur sitting tliar sort o’ quiet like, when father sez, sez he to me, •Jemima!’ And I sez, sez I, ‘•What, sir?’ > And he sez, sez lie, ‘Wa’n’t that a rap at the dooi?’ ai.d I sez, sez I, ‘No, sir.’ Bimeby, father sez to me again, sez he, ‘J« minia!’ And I sez, sez I,‘What sir’ and he siz, sez he, ‘Are you sure?’ and I sez, sez I, ‘No, sir.’ So I went to the door, and opened jt, and sure enough i there stood —a man. Waal, lie came in and sat down by father, and father and lie talked about al- i most everything you could thick of; i they talked about the farm, they i talked about the crops, and they i talked about politics, and they talked < about all other ticks. Bimeby father, father sez to me, < sez he, ‘Jemima!’ And I sez, sez I i ‘What, sir?’And he sez,‘Can’t we I have some cider?’ And I sez, sez I I, ‘I suppose so.’ So I went down j t in the cellar and brought up a I pitcher ofeider,and I handed some ( cider to father, and then I handed ! some to the man; and father he ( drinks, the man lie drinks tii! they t drink it all up. After awhile father i sez to me, sez he. 'Jemima!' And i I sez, sez I, ‘What, sir?’ And he sez, ser. he. “Ain’t it most time for i me to be thinking ab< ut going to | bed?’ And I sez, sez I, ‘lndeed you i are the best judge of that yourself, t sir,’ ‘Waal,’ he sez, sez he, 1 Jemima. I bring me my dressing-gown an t slippers.’ And he put them on and i after awlilii he went to bed. t And there sat that man; and i bimeby he began a-hitching his < char up to mine—oh my! I was all 1 in a flutter. And then lie sez, sez ; \ he, ‘Jemima?’ And I sez, sez I, i ‘What, sir?’ And he sez, sez he, i ‘Will you have me?’ And I sez, i sez I. ‘No,sir!’ for I was most scared i to death. Waal, there we sat, and i after awhile, will ye believe me, lie r be gan backing liis chair closer i and closer to mine, and sez he, ‘Je- I mimo?’ And I sez, sez I.‘What sir?’ r And lie sez, sez lie,‘W ill ye have i me?’ And I Siz, sez I, ‘No, sir?’ i Waal, by this time be had his arm around my waist, and I hadn’t tin t heart to take it away ’cause the t tours was a rolliu’ dywn his cheeks i i | and lieAez, srz he, ‘Jemima?’ And i 1 Isiz.si zl, 'Whill, sii?' And he si z, i j sez he, ‘For the third and last time. > I shan’t ask ye agin* will ve have r im?’ And Isi z. sez I, Ye<, sir,' — f i fur I didn’t know what i Ire t, t say. .|- * • r Those Who Go Forth hi Labor. For four years i was a worker. 1 - look hack at that happy lime with ' 1 a keen regret that it is now gone. I The first ami forth were hard years, 1 yet the two in between 1 have ever ! since called my golden years, and i they cast a halo over the others. ! j Longing 'for the tender grace of a t day that is dead,’ I fuel that per i chance if the same work could again he placed in my hands I, liusv, self helpful and self forgetful, 1 might find again life sweet and full l of purpose. ’ ‘They also servo who only stand and wait.’ such is now rny lot — , waiting, ever waiting. Blessed are !, you, women and men, who daily I go forth to labor. In winter’s cold f and summers heat I went day by i, day, and though many a time when e compelled to g > through the storm I" and snow, 1 wished I could he home J well housed and warm, ns seemed l most fitting to woman’s lot, yet t now I know how blest 1 was. And ? so with my sister workingwomen. s Some day, in all probability the - home and care you long for will he yours; but no matter how happy < you may he, those days ot toil at i loom, at desk, at machine, in the '. school room or with pen, will seem blest to you. I I know there are thousands of in e telligcnt people who look down on - people who work for a living, or on women who are independent I enough to do so. A sentiment up s peaied lately in a leading local i paper that all intelligent people con - cede woman’s equality to man, t which statement is about as true • that all intelligent people concede j the working class to he equal with the wealthy. There are plenty of educated intelligent people to-day who deny women’s)quality toman and they deny the equality of tlie working man and the rich man. Many a one lots to hear the same contemptuous words as addresreil to Ben Franklin, ‘only a ’prentice. ’ Many a man passing along the crowded streets with face and hands grimy with honest toil, is sneered at and avoided, and yet the work ing man to-day is tlie hone and sinew of our country. I have no tice 1 that some of our writers call themselves the wives of working men, hut add that their husbands do not carry dinner pails. Will some one whose husband does car ry a dinner pail step forth and cla'tn the honor? This may gourd i somewhat sarcastic, but it seemed j a trifle inoonsintent to call ycur ! husbands workingmen but add | quickly lie did not carry a pail. Whether au an works with bead | or hand he is a working man, hut J in the common acceptation of the! term we mean the men who build, ; j hew, mold, plow, sow and reap, j stand at the case or on the foot-1 i hoard. Workingman ! The word conjures up visions of ‘swarthy la borers nightly thronging past your do r.’ Next to the miners I think the knights of the footboard have the most dangerous occupation in the world. Oftentimes when a man has been wronged, lie seeks revenge by dis possessing Ids enemy of work, t»y usiug his influence against Ids get ting work, or endeavoring to have | him removed from it. 1 believe in | the law of letrihution. This belief j in retribution is ancient. “And they said to one another, we are verily guilty concerning our broth er, in that we saw tlie anguish of his soul, when he besought us, and | we would not hear; tier fore is this distress come upon us.” However, it is seldom that retribution is visited on another but what the in* iiocent suffer with the guilty. No matter hew much retjibtition is! deserved it very frequently causes! untold sufferings to innocent ones \ bound by nature’s ties to the guilty ; one. In revenjing ourselves we may strike a fatal blow to those ; who never injured us. The crudest revenge one can take on another is to deprive him j of Her of their labor. I know of a j mr.n who tried to get another dis- j | churn'd, but was unsuccessful. 1 1 retaliated by »>nving the firs' nut of employment. It usny . been n just thing, but when I there mnv have born it w < iiiulron <U*|i**ntl**nt on him very wrung, especially lit t)><• midst of the lute I When I heard No. 2 1 1 i , ingly of liis notion 1 disgust. Depriving brrnd nml buttt r is ■ ■ from tin 1 conduct : I words, ‘lf thine feed him.” I A Strugru I A story of nb rlnrance and to , the far West. I E 1). N. Foo tho stage lin< I FcUcrman, on Platte river, for on the Union Pm backboard drawn I horses. The snow and drifting badly, lit i reached the I wenty-t wi i had com; lately lost t ■ ttie horses -.ere suffered I about, gllided only by : instinct. After a time tli I backboard behind them, c. . ed to push forward on hor i At on.- point Mr. Foote was . > killed by his horse, which fell I ward into a snowdrift eight l L deep. After this tho horses wen > abandoned and the men struggled i along on foot, hands, faces and feet being badly frozen. The three i men had three sacks of mail and a i canvas overcoat. The first man i would stand on his mail sack and t throw the co it ahead of him, • | allowing him to take one step. I Then each man would follow on i step by step, and the hist man , picking up the third bag, would i heave it abend for the first man to ■ step on. In this way they Hindu something like three miles, and j when the third night set, in they | began calling .'or help, and in half an hour were answered. Ollier calls wt re made an I they were tgair. answered by the filing of a gun. Again and aga'n they called, and finally a light appeared; and in an hou r and a half they made the last i quarter of a mile t . the stage sta t on, twenty-five nrles from the j starting point. Mr. Foote says: "When I found that I was safe, it 1 seemed impossible for me to move. I fell twice in going the Just few yards to the stable. I had no strength, and after entering the j barn I could not cat.” Tit far Tat. An old lady of bis (lock once Dr. dill with a gri v ance. The doctor's neckbands w ere I too long for her ideas ol ministerial j humanity, and after a long liar i anguc on the sin of pride, she inti | rnn'ed that she had brought a pair of scissor* w ith her, and would he j i pleased if her dear pastor would ; permit her to cut them down to her j | notions ol propriety. Tire doctor | j not only listened patiently, but | handed over the offending white hands to operate upon. When she had cut them to her satisfaction and returned the Libs, it was the j doctor’s turn. 'Now’, sai l he, ‘you must do me j a good turn also.’ •Yes, that I will doctor,’ replied ; she, ‘What can !t lie?’ •Well, you have something about j you which is a deal too long and j j which causes me no end of trouble, i i and T should to see it shorter.’ j ‘lndeed, dear sir, 1 will not hes itate, what is it ? Here art the scis-1 sors, use them as you please.’ ‘Cone, thou,’said the sturdy db vine, ‘good sister, put out your tongue.’ Doctor N is as bad a sportsman as lie is a physician, but this dies not prevent him, a3 regularly as the season cones around, from i spending a fortnight in the fields with his ilog and Ids gun. ‘‘And ] j that’s the only period of the year] when he dosn’t kill anything,”] said one of his colleagues Kindly> i * A middle-sized bov, writing a | composition on ‘Extremes, re j marked that ‘we should endeavor j ' to avoid extremes, especially those ; ! of wasps and bees.’ I ! hn ! with . my ay fin. not c<>hl.' went In r. I’m w;. the lime l’i llmv demo. Tummy win in the u of tin- lii'il, anil Harry didn’t have ™ half hnim enough. Tom’s mother paid: 1 \\ hy don't you move over ? ! You've t ik"ii up nil the . room Tmn'ii .!' Aiid Tot" n plied: ‘ Willj ‘ if I've )iot the midilii', hasn’t Harry , | got both sidesf The hotel hoy had been in structed, when lie knocked at Dean ’ Stanley V door and hear I the in l j ipiiry, "Who is there?’ to reply ( ‘The hoy, my lord.’ The hoy an swered the first call with considera ble trepidation, and surprised the Dean hv a hind response to ji"," l !'«■ ouestioi :‘The lord, inv boy. !• -ui.i ---> -m * ' I ‘"" k OIJ gentleman (military tn.fn) con- •in versing with Miiart-looking I.iahmnn: ■‘Wounded in ilie Crimea, wero you? Badly?” Iri.-hnian. “The hullet bit me in (Ik: ehist, here si:lt. an’ came out at uie hud !” Old gentleman, '‘Conic, cmne, Pal, the won't du! Why, it would have gone tight. through your heart, man!” Irshman; “Oell| fuiih me heart was in tue mouth at the toime. surr!” A New Hampshire farmer recently agreed to sell his-fnrm for 1f2,000, hot when the day came lie told the expeetat purchaser that Ills wife wag in liislerh'S about Ihe trade, ai.d lie “guessed liv’d have to hack dot.” The purchaser complained, and tlnaiiy asked lioiv much more would induce him to sell. “Well,” replied the thrifty son of tlrantte stale, “give me S2OO more and we’ll let her erv.” l’rof. Geiger sat in an easy chair on deck looking very pale. The compassionate captain nsKed how ho felt. ‘Miserable, miserable; I'm side, captain I'm si'K. I have paid tribute to Neptune until l’vo lost everything.’ ‘lint,’ said the captain,‘l see you still have your hoots loft. ‘Yes,’said the Professor faintly, 'but they were op the out side. A lady now residing in this city was once traveling hy stage among the < atskill mountains, ami slopped for the night at an out-ot-tlie-way him She was tired with her journey and slept late in (lie morning, not respond ing to Ihe first eal{ for breakfast. I’n sently there value another tap at her door,'and a girlish voice said : “dense, liiillil, won’t you get up? We want to use one of your sheets for a table- 1 cloth.” —[Keokuk Consti till ion. •0 ♦ When the late Senator M it 11. Car* pen l r was a hay, he did not like to work on the fa I ui. One day lbs father left home, tolling him !o hoe a patch of potatoes and gave him two shillings with which to hire help. Ho bought a shilling’s worth of whiskey and secured a mail to help him. lie would s’mid at the end of the row uad give the man a drnk as list as he got around to him. The potatoes were soon hoed, and Mat raved a shilling.