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JOB WORK —OF — Every Description NEATLY AND PROMPTLY EXECUTED AT CHRONICLE JOB OFFICE. MONEY SAYED! MONEY MADE! FOR THE NEXT THIRTY DAYS—TO TITE CASH TRADE— u THESE WILL BE OUR PRICES ! our prices /Jit PRICES. ELSEWHERE /■ 8 in. C. C. Plates 30c set. 40 tu 50c- Ww' 1 " I s’ n ' Plates 40c. set. 50 to 60c- KK.' II Unhand. C. C. Cups and IS Saucers 25c. set. 35 to 40c. i» ■F'-A Hand C.C. Cops & Saucers 40c. set. 50 to 60c. Mjii. . h: bß Is Large C C. Bowl & Pitcher 60c. pair. 75c. to sl. I !,i 3 Im CordC.C.Veg’table Dishes 50c. each 65 to 75c. HI JB % Gal. Milk Pitchers.... 30c. each 40 to 50c. ■MB white Granite H’ndld Teas 50c. set. 60 to 70c. f ;•*!« BEKf White Granite Plates, 9in 45c. set. 60 to 70c. - t 0 c * Glass Sets, 4 pieces 35c. set. 50 to 60c. l7 ir\i 2v Large Goblets 35c. set 50 to 60c. ][ ** J tea Glass Lamps. ... 20c. each 25 to 35c. Vn >, r L a nd® OF These Prices Good for those who will men tion seeing them in the Athens Chronicle. We have a large stock of Fancy Chamber Sets, Tea Sets, Dinner Sets, Tin Sets, Knives and Forks, Spoons, Plated ware, and general House-fu.riiish.irig Goods. Which we are offering low. Call and see us. Headquarters for Lime. Cement, Plaster Wash Brushes. Aisc best grades Kerosene Oil for wholesale and retail trade. Je H, HUGrCxINS, ATHENS, GA. THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR jbl l® > O© a © ADVERTISEMENT WHEN THEIR NEW STOCK OF arrive:. Racket Store. IT’S NO USE. Others try to follow us, but they can’t keep up. Our pace is too much for them. WE ARE TOO FAST. And place our bargains so rapidly before the public that they are astonished, and wonder whe re they all come from. ENERGY WILL TELL. We made up our minds to be the leaders in our line, and the result is that we lead. There is no mistake about it. OUR PRICES Tell the TALE. They are always lower than the lowest, and QUALITY PROVES IT. We make no rash assertions, but prove everything we state in the newspapers when a customer calls at our store. If you want Sterling Goods for Sterling cash, call and see our stock at the RACKET STORE. J. HOFFMAN, NEXT DOOR TO W. A. JESTER’S. ATHENS GA LUCAS, DEARING A CO., MERCHANT -- TAILORING AND GENTS’ FURNISHING GOODS. Latest styles in Foreign and Domestic Fabrics, Hats and Furnishing Goods Generally. Broad St., - - Athens, Ga. Here’s Your Mule! UK II Have just received a lot of fine mules, and KUhI K TiBKKy Wll, continue to keep on hand during the sea- S '’" gOO<i stock ,lt reasonable prices. Call and price before buying. Will be found on WSSagy JACKSON ST., NEAR OPERA HOUSE J AMEN IS. KE ATES. D M. KENNEY, Will Estimate on and Contract for all classes of Buildings HEAVY FRAMING A SPECIALTY. AGENT FOR THE SALE OF LUMBER, LATHS AND SHINGLES. All communications addressed me at Athens, Ga., will receive prompt attention VOL. XI. Cltljcns ChtMiOc ATHENS, GEORGIA. SATURDAY MAY 19. 1888. For the Chronicle. Eloquence. He that reposes his confidence in the lofty towZer, or the ponderous gate, and thinks that they will afiord sufficient pro tection against outward assault or internal excitement will be most assuredly dis ip pointed. An individual standing alone, unprotected but by the overshadowing heavens, without hope of safety or tri umph, but in his own muscle, and destitute of counsel, except from the mandates of an aspiring soul or the directions of a heroic spirit can do more for himself and for those who depend upon his single arm than numbers trembling behind an impen etrable rampart or speeding their arrows from the high battlement. The strength of such an individual is seated on the heart—the fountain of hu man sympathy—whence issue the stern decrees of judgment, as well as the playful imaginings of passion. Moved by its ardour, bis frame is invigorated under its influence. He laughs at fear, and scorns fatigue; he bravely courts the rude shock of battle; he listens to the loud clash of arms without a shudder, and when grim danger presents her haggard form, he meds her fearlessly ; be rushes on with a zeal not to be crushed by the vicissiiudes of fortune; he fights till the death blow lie fights even while groaning amid the agonies of convulsed nature When the vital spark is extinguished, then sinks to ashes the tire of the warrior’s courage; but till that moment be is a hero—weak in body, but mighty in soul. Such is the ardour that burns in the bosom of the patriot. We see it in the true states man, jealous of his country’s honour and regardful of the people’s interest. It walks with him and gives an awful sublimity to his counsel. When aroused to its warmest blaze, when it rages with its own peculiar energy, it is this that thunders from the tongue of the orator—this ardour becomes a sound and bursts upon the startled ear. infuses itself into the united heart of a melted, an admiring, a fascenated audi ence; and carries with an irresistible impetuosity every feeling -or passion of the heart onward with itself. This is eloquence; this is its power 1 which has in all ages been a proud and fearless conquerer, which has melted down hearts of marble, made tyrants tremble on their thrones. With but a single exer tion, with but one loud peal, it can “Stir a fever in the blood of age And make a child’s sinews strong as steel.” It is a powerful engine—which, though often the cause of misery, has advanced to an exalted point the situation of man. In political affairs, it is an indispensable attendant; for, if the man of wisdom does not possess the happy faculty of appealing to tue passions as well as to the judgment; to the heart, as well as to the mind ; he is comparatively insigtiitiqpnt. He is like a candle bid under a bushel, whose light is not seen. The cultivation of eloquence, tbereiore, is of the highest importance to him who would shine conspicuously in the legislative balls; to him who would see bis name high on the list of Fame. To the advocate, of what advantage is it? He may plead the widow’s cause sue cessfully, he may wipe the tears from the iye of the orphan, and make oppression’s self blush at her turpitude. The power of eloquence is above everything desirable. Let it then be cultivated, and let our own land continue to be as it has been, a land famed for her eloquent statesmen, and may the youth follow on in the track of the brilliant orators passed away, and fill those high places which they now fill on the bright picture of their country’s history' Stella. A Suggestion as to the Chancellorship. We learn that’the name of Rev. John W. Heidt, D. D., has been mentioned by an Atlanta paper in connection with the vacant Chancellorship. If the Trustees are not yet “out of the woods,” this sug gestion might help them to see their way clear. Dr. Heidt graduated in literature at Emory, but in law at Athens. He filled the position of Solicitor General, but renoun ced his profession for the ministry. After having filled many impoitant pastorates in the North Georgia conference, be was elected President of the LaGrange Female college. His administration of ns affairs was brilliant and able, and he won the love of all his pupils, us Well as the all c tionsof the entire community of LaGrange. From this place he was transferred to the important office of Regent of the South western University—one of the largest institutions of learning in the South—at Georgetown, Texas. Here he is doing a grand and noble work for Christian edu cation. But Georgia cannot permanently spare so loving, true and able a son as Dr. Heidt. He loves her and she needs him. This is home—here are his friends. Here no doubt, he would prefer to labor. Dr. Heidt would make an ideal Chancellor.— He is pious, learned, eloquent. On the commencement rostrum he is matchless. Ease, grace, dignity and kindness blend in his manner and tones. He is a safe guide for youth. He is, moreover, a pro gressive educator. He would hold to the cardinal teacuings of Christianity, but without bigotry or meditevalism. All true science he would accept, but nothing that was unproven would be teach. He is now in the prime of his powers and the acme of his well earned and noble reputation.— He would adorn the position as much as it would honor him. —LaGrange Reporter Memories of Charlie Ross have been aroused by the advertisement in several New York papers offering a reward of SI,OOO and “no questions asked,” for the baby that disappeared from a carriage in front of Seigel & Co.’s dry goods store, while its mother was in the store. No body has come for the SI,OOO, and the de tectives who are investigating the case have found no clue. At the request of the detectives the names of the child’s pa rents are not made public at present, hut it is announced that they will be publish ed soon, unless the baby is found. It is said, however, that the parents are weal thy, and are well-known in the neighbor hood, and that the child was not an adopt ed one, so that it seems most probable that it was stolen solely for the sake of a re ward. gwfs tfarnrr. A Farmer’s View of the Cha reb. Well wife, I’ve had around with Wayne, ’Bout ’jining our church ; He tried the skeptic dodge on me, The argument of smirch. Says he, “Look at your members now, There’s Jones got drunk, an' Swem Will cheat a friend to make a trade, Ain’t I as good as them ?” Says I, “ A butcher buying stock Does just the way you do; He hunts around the cattle yard, And finds the meanest too ; Then ev’ry otter that he makes, And ev’ry one he hears, Is coupled with the sneerin’ words — ‘ Jest look at them two steers I’ * You pick the meanest. Christians out, An’ then with tricky jeers, You run the whole church down by that ‘ Jest look at them two steers 1’ No fanner’s fooled by that ole trick, An’ so you can’t afford To risk your soul in tryin’ it Upon the all-wise Lord.” —[Fred. Nye, in Omaha World. For the Chronicle. Happy Thoughts of Heaven. by p c. The Lord is good to all mankind, And loves most dearly every child ; He wishes that we all may find— That none may die with hearts defiled. The way is broad that leads to death, To heaven is called the narrow way ; And when we lose our life and breath, The spirit goes and leaves the clay. The temples of the Holy Ghost, Will moulder in the dust again, The spirit with the heavenly host, Will go to Christ and there remain. In worlds of bliss —bright shining home, Where Jesus ever, ever reigns ; •To think no more of the dark tomb, Sickness, nor death, nor endless pains. That is a home to be desired, Above all carnal, earthly bliss, With none but God and Christ admired— God’s wrath it we should heaven miss. God is the only ruling power, That runs this world for weal or woe; May he watch o’er us every hour, While we remain on earth below. When we shall get beyond the skies, And meet our friends to part no more ; We hope continually to rise, Above the etherial blue to soar- Then when in heaven we shall rest, With Christ and G id to never part, We then shall feel completely blest, With sin expelled from every heart. WON BY THE SCHOOL MA’AM. The school directors of District No. 19, Perry Township, were bolding a meeting. Nobody would have thought it. The Chairman was leaning against his front gate with bis checked shirt sleaves turned back, an ax in his hand, surveying the other two members of the Board, who stood outside the fence. It wks a meeting, nevertheless ; and its object was nothing less important than tue selection of a teacher for the fall term. “Lyman Doty spoke to me about having the school,” said tue Chair, dubiously. “Lyman Doty 1” exclaimed Steve Ten ney, a stalwart young fellow, with thick brown hair, white teeth and a square chin to make up for his lack of downrignt good looks. “Why Lyme Doty couldn’t teach a baby. He quit school before I did, long enough, and he hasn't studied anything but potatoes and winter wheat since, that I know of. Better stick to his farm—eb, Larkin ?” “Guess you’re right,” responded the third member of the board, a little man witli a cheerful face and a tuft of gray hair sticking straight out from his chin. And the chairman nodded his agree ment. “Well,” continued little Mr. Larkin, with an air of importance, “I’ve had an appli cation that 1 guess will suit. It’s a sort of relative of my wife’s, and just as nice a girl as ever was. Smart, too. She’s got for two years, last examina tion. She’d make a splendid teacher, Molly Sanborn would.” “Sanborn 1 ’ said Steve Tenny, shortly ; “any connection with the Sauborns over on the river?” “That’s where she’s from,” said Mr. Larkin. “She's old John Sanborn’s girl— him that died last winter.” Steve frowned. ‘‘You won’t put her into that school, then, with my consent 1” he said deter minedly. “What!” said Mr. Larkiu, with a gasp, while the chairman stated. “What would you think,” the young man responded, “if a man sold you fifty head of sheep at a good price, and half of them died off in the next week of a disease be must have known beforehand ? That was the trick John Sanborn served me. And he laughed in my face when I wanted my money back. No, sir 1 I can’t con scientiously consent to putting any of the Sanborns in that school. Bad lot, in my opinion !” Mr. Larkin’s small, bright eyes snapped. “Old Sanborn wasn’t too straight, and everybody knows it,” he admitted. “But what that’s got to do with Molly is more than I can see. She’s as line a girl as you ever set eyes on ; not a bit of her father about her.” “Well, well, fight it out between you,” said the chairman, goou -uaturedly ; and returned to his wood chopping. The tall young man and the little old man walked up the street together, talking briskly. Mr. Larkin was hot and indignant; Steve was cool and immovable. “There don’t seem to be any mercy tn you,” said the former, almost teariully, as Steve was preparing to turn in at his gate. “If they’d been left well oft, it would be different; but they're poor as poverty, and Molly needs the place the worst way.” “You hadn’t mentioned that,” said the young man, turning back. “If that’s the case ” Mr. Larkin walked away triumphant five minutes later. But Steve Tenney bad surrendered with bad grace. “I couldn’t hold out after that, you see,” he said to his mother, relating the story over their tea ; “but I don't approve of it. There’s not much good in the Sanborns, or I lose my guess 1” School began two weeks later, when the first cool wave was depopulating front porches and increasing the attraction near kitchen stoves. Steve Ten.ey held to bis opinion con cerning the new school teacher and acted accordingly. H_<did not call at the schoolhouse the first "day, as was his custom, to leave the register and see if anything was Wanted— the chairman having turned these duties over to his younger colleague. He sent the register by a boy, and was utterly indifferent as to whether anything was wanted. He turned the subject when the new teacher was mentioned; and he avoided Mr. Larkin’s comfortable home, where the teacher boarded. The little man made him a eall, however a month or so after school bad begun. “Guess you'll have to own up to being in the wrong, Steve," he began. “We bain’t bad a teacher for years that’s given the satisfaction that Molly does. The children rave about her—all of ’em.” But Steve was unimpressed. “My opinion has yet to be altered,” he said rather stiffly. And Mr. Larkin looked discouraged. “She spoke about needing a new broom and waler pail,” he said iw he rose. “I tolcHier she’d better come to you about it.” “That school house had a new broom last term, and water pail term before last I” said the young director emphatically. And Mr. Larkin took a discomlitted leave. The next Sunday evening the young man, sitting in the pew of a small wooden church with his mother, and allowing his eyes to rove about during the rather long sermon, suddenly discovered a new face, and sat studying it for the remainder of the evening. It was that of a young girl—not a re markably pretty girl, but fair and fresh and innocent, with a bright intelligence in her dark eyes and a sweetness in her full lips. “Who is she?” was his first question after the services were concluded, ad dressed, as it happened, to little Mr. Larkin, who bad conjoin late. ,»<-“Tl>at ?” the latter asked in astonish ment. “Why, that’s our teacher—that’s Molly Sanborn. That’s my wife she’s with, don’t you see? I am waiting to take them home.” Steve Tenney found himself wishing quite frequently after that that the new teacher would come to him about the broom and water pail. Not that he should furnish them if be found they were not needed, but be felt that he should not object to an interview with the school teacher. He even mentioned the suited to Mr Larkin carelessly when he met him one day. “Well, you see,” was the response, “she sort of hates to come to you. The way you felt about her having the school has got aB around town, and I s'pose she's heard of it. She can’t help what her father was, Molly can’t, and she’s real sen sitive.’’ The young man looked disturbed. That al teruoon he left his work at an early hour—not, however, admitting to himself his purpose in doing so —and strolled down the street, turning off—but he persuaded himself that it was not in tentional —in the direction of the school house. “I might as well go in and see about that broom and water pail,” he said to hqnself, when he stood opposite the little bare looking building And he went in accordingly. The little teacher looked considerably startled when sue opened the door to him. She dropped the spelling book she held, and her voice was hardly steady as she expressed her gratification at seeing him. Evidently, Steve reflected, some idiot had pointed him out to her at church the other evening. He sat down in a front seat feeling unpleasantly ogreeish. She was bearing the last spelling class. How pretty she looked, standing there in her daik blue calico dress and white apron. What a sweet voice she had, though put ting out “hen, men, pen,” to a lot of fidgeting youngsters could hardly show it to the best advantage. When the class was dismissed, and the last small students bad rushed whooping down the street, the teacher and the young director stood looking at each other with some awkwardness. “I thought I’d come in,” said Steve at last, apologetically, “and see if anything is needed.” not mention.the fact of his being some six weeks late in the performance ot bis duty. The girl dropped her eyes timidly. “I —don't think so,” she murmured. “What a brute she must think me!” Steve reflected, with so lie self disgust. He turned carelessly to the corner where the broom stood. “Isn’t this pretty far gone?” be said, with a conscience stricken glance at its stubby end. And the litttle teacher nodded. “Your waler pail seems to leak,” the di rector weut on, indicating the empty bucket and the wet floor. “Yes,” the girl assented. “I’ll see that you have new ones,” Steve concluded. And he was rewarded by a grateful glance from the teacher's soft eyes as she took her hat from its nail. He took her lunch basket from her hand as they started away together, and, having taken it, could hardly surrender it short of Mr. Larkin’s gate. He was a little reluctant to surrender it even then. For their first awkwardness had quite worn oft; their walk had been far from unpleasant, and they were feeling very well acquainted—' He walked home in an agreeable absorp tion, repeating to himself the things she bad said, and recalling her pretty way of saying them. He did not pause to consider that it was old John Sanborn’s daughter of whom lie was thinking ; be was only conscious that she was a bright young girl whom it was charming to look at and listen to. His pleasant mood was rudely inter rupted by little Mr. Larkin, who dropped in that evening. “Lyme Doty couldn’t have the school,” he observed, with a chuckle, “but it looks as though he was going to have the teacher !” “What?” said Steve, with a sudden, un explainable sinking of the heart. “He’s hanging around considerable, anyhow,” said Mr. Larkin. “Went to visit the school last week, and he was asking me to-day whether Molly’s got any way of getting home Friday night. He said he’d just as lief take her in his buggy as not. — Molly generally walks; but I guess she’ll be glad of a lift.” “You don’t mean to tell me,” said Steve, warmly, “that she’d have anything to do with him?” Mr. Larkin stared. What could Steve care with whom old John Sanborn’s daugh ter had to do?” But be only said, deprecatingly : “Well, Lime's a good, steady tellow.” “Humph!” was the scornful rejoinder. The young man mused long and se riously when his visitor was gone, and went to bed with a lighter heart, having come to a firm conclusion. When the new teacher closed school the next Friday night, she was feeling rather worn out, as she was apt to feel at the end of the week ; nor did the prospect of the four miles’ walk home serve to cheer her. She locked the door and started down the path with a sigh. A neat little buggy was coming briskly up the road. Molly gave a start as the driver pulled up the horse and sprang to the ground. It was the young director, and he was coming toward her. “I won’t make any excuses, Miss San ford,” he said, with a humorous solemnity. “1 won’t say I’m going over the river on business, and happened to think you might like to ride. The truth is, that it’s a care fully laid plot. Will you be au aider and abettor?” The little teacher laughed appreciatively as he helped her into the buggy. “I must stop at Mr. Larkin’s and leave my dinner pail,” she said demurely. Mr. Larkin was standing at the front gate. He stood staring at the young di rector, us the latter assisted the teacher to the ground, and sat down on the horse block waiting for her. “Lyme Doty was here after Molly just now,” he said, gaspingly. “I sent him down to the school house.” “We met him,” said Steve. “You see,’’ he added, making a bold attempt at care lessness, but speaking, nevertheless, in a shamefaced way, and avoiding the little man’s eye—“ You see, I feel as though it’s my bounden duty to keep Lyme Doty away from her. Pure impudence, his hanging around her that way.” The little teacher came tripping back, and the young director's buggy whirled away in a cloud of dust. “Steve Tenny’s taking Molly home in his buggy,” said Mr. Larkin, joining bis wife in the kitchen, and sinking dazedly into a chair. “I guess the world's coining to an end!” “Steve Tenney ain’t a fool,” his wife responded practically. “1 knew he’d get over that ridiculous notion of his—and especially after he’d seen Molly.” “Says he's doing it from a sense of duty,” said Larkin, chuckling slowly as the humor of the situation dawned upon him.— “Wonder how far his sense of duty will take him?” “I shouldn’t be surprised at anything!” said Mrs. Larkin mysteriously. Tiie Larkins—and, perhaps, Lyme Doty— were the only people who were not sur prised when the new teacher gave up the school at the end of the term and was quietly married to the young director. The chairman of the School Board is wondering over it yet.—Hartsfield Daily Times. The Editor’s Helpmeet. New York Star. —G. Baker Hanscom is editor and proprietor of a bright little weekly newspaper in the rural districts of the west. He was lately married to a pretty little woman, who is filled with a laudable desire to help Baker along all she can. Type-setting looks so easy, she cooed the other day, I know I could do it just as well as anything. Let me help Although Han-com is bis own composi tor he didn’t accept this offer at once. His wife had learned the cases as she called it, and that she thought was the graduation degree in the type setting profession. Sbe was in the office alone the other day, when a wedding notice was brought in. Oh, she said, gleefully, I’ll just set this up and slip it in the form, and won’t Baker be surprised when he sees it in print 1 It tbereiore appeared as follows in the next issue of the paper : rnaRIDE at Tqe RespencE Os The BriDes PasentS on aienday eveng Sep! gB9 7871 Mr! Jnho Jacknos to mi7B katy na Rtu ? the ceismyGy—was seftrom by Revy : inM Deen Inn the resence oF a large number of F Ried son of the gnuery couple & was a be Rvy joyful Occosino. Mr. aND miss, will be boom to their tri, s at 874 bath Sr. aftr acto 100. Os course Baker was surpiised. So were John Jackson and his wife. A Big Lie. Once upon a time there was a man who had no umbrella, and although it chanced to be raining very hard, he stepped into the office of a friend and said to him. “ I would like to borrow your umbrella. I will return it in an hourj “Certainly, with pleasure,” was the reply. It was then 2 o’clock in the afternoon." At one minute of 3 the man appeared in Ins friend’s office and returned the um brella.—Merchant Traveler. Teacher—“ln what battle was General Blank killed?" Bright boy-" His last one.” NUMBER 20 A BASBFIIL MAN. The Great Sensation he Caused la the Bridal Chamber. St. Path Herald. Senator Sebastian, of Arkansas, was a native of Hickman county, Tennesse. On one occasion a member of Congress was lamenting his basbfulness and awkward ness. “Why,” said the Senator from Rack ensack, “you don't know what bashfulness is. Let me tell you a story, and when I get through I will stand the bob if you don’t agree that you never knew anything about basbfulness and its baneful effects. I was the most bashful boy west of the Alleghauies; I wouldn’t look at a girl, much less speak to one, but for all that I fell desperately in love with a sweet, beau tiful neighbor girl. It was a desirable match on both sides, and the old folks saw the drift and fixed it up. I thought I should die just thinking of it. I was a gawky, awkward country lout, about nine teen years old. She was an intelligent, re fined and fairly well educated girl for the country, and at a time when the girls had superior advantages, and therefore supe rior in culture to the boys. 1 fixed the day as fur as I could have put it off; I lay awake in a cold perspiration as the time drew near, and shivered with agony at the terrible ordeal. ' The dreadful day came, I went through with the programme somehow in a dazed confused mechanical sort of away, like an automaton booby through such games as “possum pie,” “sister Pheobe,” and all that sort of thing. The guests one by one de parted and my hair began to stand on end. Beyond the curtain Isis lay the terrible un known. My blood grew cold and boiled by turns. 1 was in fever and then ague, pale and flushed by turns I felt like flee ing to the woods and spending the night in the barn, leaving for the West never to return. I was deeply devoted to Sallie. I loved her harder than a mule can kick; but that dreadful ordeal. I could not, dare not stand it. Finally the last guest had gone to bed and I was left alone— horror of horrors—alone with the old man. “John,” said he, “you can take that can dle: you will find your room just over this. Good night John and may the Lord have mercy on your soul,” and with a mis chievous twinkle of his gray eye the old man left the room. I mentally said “Amen” to his “Heaven help you,” and when I heard him close a distant door, I staggered to my feet and seized the far thing dip with a nervous clutch. I stood for some minutes contemplating my ter rible fate and the inevitable and speedy doom about to overwhelm me. I knew it could not be avoided and yet I hesitated to meet my fate like a man. I stood so long that three love letters had grown on the wick of the tallow dip, and a winding sheet was decorating the side of the can dlestick. A happy thought struck me, I hastily climbed the stairs, marked the pbsi'ion of the landing and the bridal chamber. I would have died before I would have dis robed iu that holy chamber where awaited me a trembling and a beautiful girl, a blushing maiden “clothed upon” with her own and modesty and snowy robes de nuit. I would mase the usual preparations with out ; blow out the light, open the door and friendly night would shield shrinking modesty and grateful darkness at least mitigate the horror of the situation. It was done. Preparations for retiring were few and simple iu their character iu Hickman, alto gether consisting of disrobing and owing to the scarcity of cloth in those days man was near the Adamic state when he was prepared to woo gentle sleep. Tue dread lul hour bad come—l was ready. I blew out tue light grasped the kuob with a deathly gup, aud a nervous clutch one moment and it wasn’t over by a d u sight. I leaped witum and there around a glowing hickory tire, with caudles brigutiy burning was the blushing bride surrounded by six lovely bridesmaids. wny me Were rsrignt. “Do you see the brightly polished brass signs of that jewelry store across the way?” said a neighboring storekeeper. "Look as though the porter had just fin ished polishing them, don’t they? But I assure you they have not seen the polishing cloth for nearly a month, and you know yourself what changeable weather we’ve had during that time. How is it done? Well, I’ll teH you, although it’s somewhat of a secret, and the owner of the signs tn question is the envy of all his neighbors. The idea Is by no means new, although the application of it to street signs Ib. “Probably you have often wondered how the metal work in a telegraph instru ment or a clock movement remains bright for so long a time without tarnishing? Well, the secret in that case lies in the fact that the metal is carefully coated with a varnish that resists atmospheric action and thus prevents the oxidation known to the unscientific as tarnish. This is the secret of the bright signs. They are first carefully polished on a clear, bright day, and when they are perfectly dry two coats of varnish are applied, with the result that you see.”—Jewelers’ Weekly. Father ot the Clerks. The oldest man In the civil service In Washington is J Goldsboro Bruff. a draughtsman in the office of the supervis ing architect of the treasury Mr Bruff is in his 84th year, and does his work, so trying to the eyes, without the aid of glasses He has served the government for sixty two years, and he drew the first detailed map of the country beyond the Mississippi Senator Andrew Jackson liked his youthful drawings, and bought young Bruff his first box of paints. Mr. Bruff is not only the oldest employe In the district, but is also the oldest Mason in these ten miles square. He gets upevery morning at 6 o'clock, goes to bed at 11, and never drinks anything stronger than green tea He smoked for forty years, but quit the habit on account of a palpi tating heart. He has been on every con tinent. and still likes to danee the lancers with a pretty girl.—Washington Cor. Bos ton Globe. Augusta will soon hive an EnDropa! church for negroes. Mrs. W. H Harrison years ago left $5,000 for this purpose and it is just now available. The contract will be given out Monday bv R'*v. C. C. Will iams. Rev. John G iss. Dr. Steiner and P G. Burum, building committee, and the church will be constructed in the rear of the public building site. A poo] will be provided for all who prefer immersion. “I wish my name were Notoriety,” sighed a thirty-year-old Mt. Washington maiden. “Why?” asked her mother. “Because so many men court notoriety.” ATHENS CHRONICLE, SUBSCRIPTION SI.OO PER YEAR ADVANCE ADVERTISING RATES REASONABLE 1 Would Back Him Against Samson. He had been discussing the Sullivan prize fight with some other boys of his own age. They had been reading a sport ing paper, and had found out about Sayers and Heenan, and celebrated prize fighters who were dead. “Papa,” he said, “does everybody go to heaven when he dies?” “Well, not everybody; good people do.” “Was Samson a good man?” “Yes, I guess so.” “Do you think Tom Sayers and Heenan are in Heaven?” “I don’t know. I should wonder.” “And if I die I’ll go to Heaven?” “I hope so. Why do you ask these questions?” “Cos when I go to Heaven I’m goin’ to back Sullivan against Samson.”—San Francisco Uall. Saffleieotly Identified. A friend of mine was recently rustica ting in a neighboring town with bis little four-year-old boy. The child spent nearly all of his time with the town telegraph operator, the attraction there to the child being a large Newfoundland dog. The operator left the boy in charge of the office one day, while he attended some urgent business, aud to amuse the little fellow placed in his hands a large brass instru - ment, the property of the town band.— During the operator’s aiwence the boy made such a rumpus with the musical in strument that the bandmaster rushed in, and in towering tones demanded of the little innocent: “Who gave you that?” The bright boy, noj, knowing the opera tor’s name, replied : “The dog's papa gave it to me.” Thank. God, She’s Lit. A commercial tourist informs the Annis ton Watchman that as he was coming over from Atlanta a few days since, an old lady boarded the train at Tallapoosa and occu - pied a seat near him, and from her actions was experiencing her first ride on the cars. The train was moving at a high rate of speed when it ran on the high trestle be tween here and that place, where it seemed as if the train was suspended in mid-air. The eld lady convulsively grasped the seat and held her breath until the other side of the chasm was reached, when she gave a deep-sigh of relief and exclaimed : “Thank God, she’s lit!” GRAINS OF SPICE He floated in at the wave of her hand, And tenderly pressed his suit, But all on a sudden be floated out On the wave of her father’s boot. A hard lot —A marble quarry. The suit department—A court room. Private business—Carrying a musket The water for military posts should come from drilled wells. Most men in jail are there on account of their convictions. "If I take hold of this string, you know,’’ remarked the tar to the roofer, "I ll stick to it; I never let go of anything Igo into ” And the tar kettle said he could indorse the last statement “Will you give a penny to a little waif from Liverpool ?” whined a ragged boy as he approached a man on Broadway. “You are a big way from Liverpool, my lad, so here’s ten cents,” wss the reply. He—“Do you know. Miss Mabel, I have discovered why my brain is so active ?” Sbe—“No, M. Minuswit. What is your theory ?” He—“lt’s because I so often start a train of thought.” She—"Ab, yes! The limited.” “Amanda,” said the mother sharply, “I heard that young man kiss you as he said goodnight. I want to know what he does fora living ?” “He is a disciple of oeculapious, mama,” replied Amanda demurely. A heartless creature who advertises his willingness to tell ladies bow to get good figures for sl, sent his customers a printed slip advising them to go to the multiplica tion table and select. “Jack, can it be that you are going to marry Miss Equilateral ?” “Yes, Tom, and if you say anything to disparage her ” “Disparage her! Why, she proposed me too, last leap year!” “So you think you can dress a show window so that the ladies will all stop aud look at it, do you ?” asked the manager of a dry goods store of an applicant for work. “Yes, sir, I do.” “Well, sir, what is the first thing you would do ?” “I’d put a big mirror in the window, and ” “That’s enough, young man; we don’t want you as an employe. WeTl take you in as a partner.” “I am surprised, Bobby,” said bis father approvingly, “that you should strike your litfte brother. Don’t you know that it is cowardly to hit one smaller than yourself?” “Then why do you hit me, pa?" inquired the boy with an air of having the better ofit. If a man and a half throws a bootjack and a half at a cat and a half in a uight aud a half, how many cats and a half will he hit in a month and a half? Fred D—five years old, had to learn a verse to recite at Sunday school. His verse was : “Blessed are the peacemakers.” He did not exactly understand wbat it meant, and bis mother explained it to him, telling him that whenever he saw two boys quarreling or fighting he rqusl be a little peacemaker and try and stop them. The next night as he was being undreso ed he said: “Maiuma, I was a little peacemaker to-day. "Were you?” said bis mother; "how?” “I saw two little boys fighting in the street, and I stopped them.” “That’s a good boy,” said the mother, ■jiving liim a kiss; “and how did you part them ?" "Why, I just ran up and fired stones at them till they stopped fighting and ran swav ’’