Newspaper Page Text
| indstinct printJ
ALBANY WEEKLY HERALD: SATURDAY, JULY a, 189a.
A NEWSY LETTER.
OUR WORTH COUNTY COS
RESPONDENT,
Sojourns for Awhile nl Tlflon, end
Dlehee Up the Newe Rid Huyo
Some Plee.oot Things About,
the Place and People anil
Their Baterprleeii,
Tipton, Ga., June 28.
Special Correspondence of tlie liKRAM).
This seotion Is having an overplus
of rain just now. Farms are all In flne
oondition and crops are looking well.
Melons are plentiful in market, but no
one Is shipping from this point. Last
year convinced them. Peaches are al
most a drug on the market, being
brought into town in buggies, carts
and wagons, and have always found
ready sale. It is Bafe to say that the
value of the peach crop in tills section
will equal at least one-tenth of the
cotton crop.
—Very interesting services are be
ing held at the Jlethoilist church here,
conducted by Revs. Grumpier, Booth,
Miller and otheis, assisted by several
gentlemen from Ashburn and vicinity
who are professors of holiness. The
doctrine of sanctification and holiness
is being talked, worked and preached
by men and women who seem very
muoh in earnest in what they are do
ing. Three conversions arc already
reported, and the series of meetings—
three each day—promise to continue
for an indefinite length of time.
—Tifton undoubtedly has one of the
handsomest Baptist churches in South
ern Georgia. It is said to have cost
near (8,000, and is a model of artistic
architectural beauty. It will have to
be seen to be appreciated. I have Been
a great deal worse looking churches
on the most fashionable streets of
oltles having 40,000 inhabitants. This
is one of the most distinctive features
of Tifton—all its public buildings are
handsome and costly, would do credit
to a city of ten timoB its population
and are a monument to the liberal
spirit, publio enterprise and patriotism
of its oitlzens. Although only four
years old, yet her name is symbolic of
grit, enterprise and energy, and it is
an honor to any man to be able to say
that he is a citizen of Tifton.
—The turpentine distillery of
Messrs. J. II. Baker & Bro., near Ala-
paha, was destroyed by Are on Sunday
night last, together with a large quan
tity of crude turpentine and resin on
the yard. It was undoubtedly the
work of an incendiary.
—The tobacco farms arc objects of
interest to all visitors to this section
who ore interested in the development
of wire-grass Georgia. And truly they
are things of beauty. Despite the pro
tracted drouth during the spring
(which old growers say has been the
most unfavorable spring for trans
planting that they have ever seen, and
which necessitated replanting in
some places from three to five times),
the crop is now looking flne, being
from knee to shoulder high, according
to variety and time of transplanting,
and is one of the prettiest growing
crops that I have ever seen. The
earliest species, among them the cigar
varieties, are already ripening, and a
great deal of the valuable weed is be
ing wasted for lack of curing facilities.
But these will soon be here, four of
the Snow modern barns being in pro
cess of erection, and two of them
nearly completed. These barns are of
the latest model, and will take each
leaf as it matures, instead of waiting
until the whole stalk ripens. The
work on them is being pushed forward
rapidly, and in a few weeks Tifton
will be shipping the choicest varieties
of tobacco to the manufacturing oen-
ters. If the experiment this year
proves a success—and of that there
seems little doubt—Tifton will proba
bly have a tobacco factory inside of
two years. If Southwest Georgia can
grow tobacco, Tifton has the location,
ability, capital and enterprise to man
ufacture it.
—But don’t forget the vineyards, for
right here is a little gold mine. The
Tifts have a.vineyard two miles from
here that Is only two years old, yet
they estimate the yield for this year at
25,000 pounds! But if two out of three
pounds now on the vines mature, the
yield will not be less than 40,000
pounds t Now, these grapes generally
average about 7 to 8 cents per pound-
say 7>£ cents. Take a penoil and flg.
ure out what this will be for the sec
ond year, and then guess, if you can,
what the third and fourth, years may
do. These grapes are already ripen
ing, and shipping will begin in about
ten days.
—One of the best things about Tifton
i« that there is no Third Party here,
There is no room among these thrifty,
energetic people for such a conglom.
eration of ignorance, prejudice and
communism. There is a corporal’s
guard of Postonians in Berrien coun.
ty, but none of them in Tifton.
—One thing Tifton needs is better
streets in the business portion of the
town, but everything cannot be done
at once, and these will come in time.
—Irwin, whose line is only two
miles from here, is going to have a
lively time before fall. She already
has three candidates for Representa
tive, all of them belonging to the most
Influential families in the county, and
the race promises to be a long and
warm one.
—One of Tifton’s latest enterprises
is a barrel factory, which is turning
out a flne grade of barrels, which have
a market right at home.
—Berrien does not want Stevens for
Congress. She wanted Mitohell, and
wanted him bnd, but she will support
whoever is'nomlnated In Albany.
—Every day more or less visitors are
in Tifton, looking nt its manufactur
ing industries, farms, vineyards and
tobacco, and all go away saying they
have never seen it equaled. This is
sure to bear good fruit in tile future,
in sliape of invested capital and in
crease of citizens.
—The Tifton Dodge, Knights of
Pythias, will elect officers to-night for
the ensuing year. These officers will
be Installed with appropriate cere
monies and a feast on Thursday night,
the 80th mst. II.
Tun or twelve years ago, Albany had
a widespread reputation of being the
home of a successful and growing fair,
It is now a thing of the past, but Wily
can’t it be resurrected? JAlbauy, being
in the very center of a country where
thrive live stock, fruit,, agricultural
products, and all the essentials for a
home fair, would support a successful
one. Horse racing, boat racing and
sports of many sorts used to be fea
tures of the Albany fair, premiums
were awarded for superior exhibits of
all kinds, and it was thought that the
enterprise would live. Can’t it be
coaxed back to life again?
Gen. IIknby Morgan, Mr. Jaeoh
I.orcli and Capt. Y. G. Rust were the
most enthusiastic men that the Her
ald met on its rounds after nil the
news had been received from the Chica
go convention yesterday afternoon.
They were all enthusiastic Cleve
land men, thought the choice of Stev
enson as the Vice Presidential can
didate a genuine ten-stroke, and the
straddle of the silver question that
was made I11 the platform suited them
exactly. They took the streets, each
going his own way and forming him
self into a regular procession aud
greeting those they met with exclam
ations of joy over the glorious news.
General Morgan took all the bets he
could get on the election of the ticket,
and invited his friends to drink cham
pagne with him when he scoops the
stakes in November.
THE KING’S TOUCH.
■*nio King’s touch—thero Is magic In ttl
When tho early dawn In the east Is red.
And 1 hear the song of the lark and linnet,
I will rise like a wraith from my sleeptess
bed.
Then wrapped in a cloak of hodden gray
I will ateal like a shadow over the hills,
And down where the pendulous willows sway.
And the rich, ripe grape Its scent distills—
Till 1 reach the edge of the forest wtdei
And there will I bide, whero tho still shades
are,
Till the King and his huntsmen forth do ride.
And the sweet wild horn rings out afar.
“1 will wait and listen until 1 see
Thu nodding plumos of tho rnorry mon.
And tho glancing pennants floating free.
A gleam of light In the lonely glen.
Then lone In tho dust at his royal feot
1 will kneel for tho touch of his healing hand.
Perchance ho will give oro 1 entreat:
Before I ory ho may understand!
"Tho King’s proud hcccb will bo thore, I trow—
A wiso old man with a reverent air—
And the laughtug courtiers, row on row:
Vet not unto them wltl I make my prayeg.
""t'ls tho King, the King, who will know It all,
His eye will discover tho wound concealed:
lie will bend to hear mo boforo 1 call,
Whom the King touches shall ho healed!''
Was the maiden enrod? Ah, none can letll
Sho was dust nnd ashes tong ego.
With the proud young king and his loech aa
well.
And tho smiling courtiers, row on row.
But whether tho dawn In the east he red,
Or whothor the stars bloom out afleld.
This truth rumnineth, tho’ myths lie dead:
"Whom the King touches shall he honied!'*
-Julius C. R. Dorr In New York Independent.
A SINGER’S HEART.
—Miss Lena lladdon left Tuesday
for an extended stay in Tatnpn, Fla.
Miss lladdon is one of Albany’s pret
tiest young ladles, and her departure
is regretted by a large circle of
friends. But it is rumored that con
gratulations will soon be in order, and
that when Miss lladdon returns to Al
bany it will not be as Miss lladdon.
How to M»rk Tools.
The Btreot fakir who sells you a
bottle containing a fluid with which
you can write your name on a knife-
blade never fails to secure patronage,
although tho fluid ho sells is so badly
diluted that it only does its work in
differently well. In order to mark
steel tools and other articles distinct
ly it is only necessary to grease the
substance with wax or tallow and
then scratch the name and address in
the wax. When this is done a few
drops of nitric acid poured on will
speedily eat into the steel and etch
the name quito deeply. If enough
acid is used it is possible to cut right
through the blade.—St. Louis Globe-
Democrat.
Tea Boot Carrings.
Tea root carvings are seldom very
costly, running from fifty cents to
$100. Nine-tenths bring less than
two dollars each. A handsome set
of a dozen can he purchased for
twenty dollars, which will decorate
a drawing room or hall better than
bric-a-brac many times more expen
sive. The figures are strong, dura
ble, and in no danger of fracture by
Bridget or Ah Sin. Outside of their
aesthetic value they are of interest in
showing the wonderful ingenuity
and economy of onr Chinese cousins.
—Collector.
CartoonUts and Machinery.
Says an engineer: “I never saw a
cartoon illustrating anything in the
mechanical line, from a guillotine to
a Keely motor, that wouldn't give an
engineer a spasm at first sight. I
think the illustrated papers ought to
establish a kindergarten of mechan
ics for the benefit of their cartoon
ists.”—New York Tribune.
Celibacy In Atho*.
Marriage is least popular in the
peninsula of Athos, in the w35gean
sea, in European Turkey, because in
that community, which enjoys com
plete autonomy, subject to paying
the Turkish government an annual
tribute, no marriage ever takes place.
They never alio w any woman in their
territory, and carry their objection
to marriage and the opposite sex to
such an extent that no female, even
of the lower animals, is ever permit
ted to enter the peninsula. The pop
ulation, about 6,000, all monks, form
a kind of monastic republic, consist,
ing of twenty large monasteries, be
sides numerous hermitages and chap
els.—Philadelphia Times.
It has been ascertained that food
costa $243.65 per year for each family
in the United States, while in Europe
the cost is $223.52.
It was 9 o’clock in Paris.
The* bright Place de l’Opera was
filled with carriages; the cracking
of the drivers’ whips sounded star
tlingly clear on the crisp, wintry
air of the splendid white night, and
the electric lights shone fitfully on
the silken hats of the men and the
bright toilets of the women os they
stepped quickly from their brough
ams into tho glorious blaze and
splendor of tho opera house.
It was a fashionable night. A new
singer was to try her voice for the
first time in grand opera. She was
an American — Madeline Bancroft.
There hod been much talk about her
voice, for she had been studying in
Paris eight years. Sho had come
with her aunt to the gay capital, a
tall, large eyed girl of twenty-one,
and now at twenty-nine she was to
sing for the first time before the pub
lic in the great, bright opera house.
She had been prepared to sing two
years before, but had deferred her
debut for personal reasons, but the
public knew and was waiting for her.
It was interested in her, hod been for
some years and now at last she was
to show her power.
Xt was toward the lost of the first
act when she came on. She was a
graceful woman, tall and slim and
fair to look upon. Her face was not
exactly beautiful, but it had about it
something that held the attention,
with its large, sad eyes and sweet
mouth full of a strange wistfulness.
It was a delicately shaped face; the
brown hair growing softly on the low
forehead had threads of gray through
it; withal it was a face that spoke of
a past; one felt as if there had been
so much that had gone before—a
pure, sad, troubled past—which one
felt a desire to know about, not from
mere idle curiosity, but that one
might feel for the slight, sweet
woman who bore so much in her
lovely face.
There was no appearance of stage
fright or nervousness about the singer
as she bowed with sweet graciousness
to the sea of faces before her. After
the first hurst of applause had died
away the exquisite hush was like
death, and on this passionate still
ness her clear notes rang out pure
and sweet and beautiful.
There was a wondrous quality in
her voice, a something that went
straight to the listener’s heart, some
thing so appealing, so tender that
tears sprang unbidden to eyes not
wont to weep.
The public was captivated I Made
line was a successI
In one of the boxes nearest the
stage sat a man. At first there had
been a listlessness about him; an air
of being there from a sense of duty
rather than from any artistic inter
est; an air that was always blase.
He was a good looking man, in fault
less evening dress. He had brown eyes
and the conventional pointed beard
of the typical higher class Parisian.
The man was, however, an Ameri
can, Robert Parkman, but he had
lived so long in the French capital
that he had lost nearly all of the
alert mannerism peculiar to Ameri
cans that cling so long to our coun
trymen abroad.
He hoc
out he had forgotten her and he had
never really loved In all his life.
Women were too fond of him, per
haps. He was one of those men over
whom all women rave; they liked
him extravagantly. Madeline Ban
croft was one of them. She loved
him, had, indeed, with all her chaste
heart and soul for eight years.
She met him that first year in
Paris, and gave him the whole of her
firlish affection, and ever since ho
iod been the one and the only man
in her life. Parkman know it, hut
nothing had ever passed between
them in the way of love. He had
been kind and attentive in a manner,
but that was all on his part.
He knew that Madeline adored
him, but it did not trouble him oue
way or auother—he was too selfish—
but he respected her; ho could not
help that; he was here tonight to
bear her sing because he thought he
ought to be; he had even given up a
dinner to attend, when he would
much rather have gone to the dlu-
ner. He did not caro much for mu
sic, and ho had heard Madeline sing
so many times before; but he had
come, aud was a bit surprised at him
self for doiug it.
His listless eyes wandered over the
house, and ho drummed silently with
liis large gloved baud in aimless
fashion against the crimson velvet of
the box.
When the curtain rose he merely
turned his head to look at the stage
as he leaned back in his chair, nor
did he move even when Madeline
same on. He watched her without
apparent interest for several min
utes.
She did not turn her oyes his way,
although she knew just where he
would sit, as ho had told her. Her
pure, slender face was held up and
sho sang to the spaces.
After a time Parkman leaned for
ward, and an air of insistent eager
ness come into his oyes as ho fastened
them on tho singer’s face.
His breath carao passionately and
his eyes burned with a somber light.
Ho was a changed man; so much so,
indeed, that the people in the neigh
boring boxes looked nt him specula
tively, but he did not notice them-,
he was blind to everything but the
figure of the singer before him.
Why had she not looked at him!
She had said of her own free will she
Bhould sing to him in the solos; that
she should look I
But what did he care, to be sure!
he suddenly asked himself. Noth
ing, of course. Why should he, in
deed!
He did not try to analyze his feel
ings. He did not even ask himself
why it hurt him so because she had
not looked, but he thought of her
eyes and wistful mouth, her delicate
slimness and her beautiful, pleading
voice that had penetrated his very
soul and every fiber of his being to
night
He hoped with a sort of childish
eagerness that she would look at him
during some of the other acts. He
watched her persistently, the look in
his eyes growing almost pitiful, but
Madeline did not look. Tho delicato
eyelids never trembled that way,
and the audience that gave itself up
to a transport of applause at the close
of the last act knew nothing of the
agony in one man’s newly awakened
heart
Through the enthusiastic, well
bred crush after the opera, Parkman
hurried down the wide marble stairs
he heard the people’s praise oi
Madeline; they stabbed like knives,
and he sprang into his carriage. It
was not the number of his own
house, but that of the pension where
Madeline and her aunt lived, that he
gave to the driver hurriedly as he
slammed the door.
Madeline was at the pension before
him. Her aunt was just carrying
her thicker wraps, and she was
back in her shining garments
the white fur of her crimson
had lived in Paris ten years, his
business was here, and he now in
tended to live here for the remainder
of his life, although he had originally
intended to remain but a few months,
but like many another the spell of
the beautiful city had crept upon
him, and he had grown to think that
there was no other place on the wide
earth fit to live in besides this bright,
fascinating city under its caressing
liked the life of Paris. In the
ten years of his residence here he
had lived’well, gayly and at times
wildly; but, to his credit let it be
saifl. he hag come out at the end
wun a cleaner record than most
young men with plenty of money at
their disposal, who go from the
crudity of American cities into the
alluring splendors of Paris.
He was thirty-four years old. He
was not married; years before, in his
college days, there had been a girl,
It seemed to Parkman that he had
never seen her so beautiful before,
her face was delicately flushed and
her eyes shone like stars beneath the
straying strands of her parted hair
that had become prettily dishevels*
by her opera scarf. He wanted to
take her in his arms and crush her
close, to keep her for his own forever
in her white womanhood.
Bhe looked at him silently with her
shining eyes. She must have recog
nized the change in him, but she did
not show it. Her sweet face was
calmer and unmoved, and she looked
at him as if questioning why he
came.' He was as white as death,
and for several minutes did not
speak, but stood gazing at the wom
an before him; then suddenly, as if
answering the questioning in her
eyes, he said passionately:
“Madeline, why do you not look!
Why did you hot sing to me? You
promised.”
The strange, tender protest in his
eager voice seemed to stir ner, ana
she leaned forward and looked in
tently at him. Then she said won-
d0 ^Why,’ did yon care! I did not
it would matter. 1 did not
you would even remember my
Then half musingly, hut still look
ing at him with wondrous, shining
eyes, she added slowly:
“How strange that you should
the one alone of all faces that I care
to see—God, Madeline. I love you 1—
with my soul aud my life 1 love you!
I did not know it till tonight, hut it
Is so, nnd it is forever. It must al
ways have been {here in my heart,
the love for you, but I did not know
—oh, Madeline I" and his voice rang
with passionate intensity ns ho sprang
forward and held out his arms to her,
his face filled with mingled emotions
of pain and happiness.
But Madeline pressed back against
her clonk and put out her hands de
fensively, as if to keep him from her.
Her voice did not change as sho said,
in a low voice:
“And so you have come to feel as
I felt once, for that is the way I loved
you—oh. move—morel Your love is
but nu echo of that which 1 once felt
oh,” she cried out, closing her eye
lids, "how I loved you I I could havo
suffered anything for you—pain, dis
grace, death—nil, * everything. 1
would have given up my life for
your lips upon mine—my lifo, yes,
my very soul I for I loved you with
a love such as few women are called
to know. I lived only to see you; to
hear your voice and touch your dear
hands.
“And It lasted bo long, so cruelly
long, and so Horoely—ah! yes. too
fiercely, for now the fires in my heart
have burned themselves out, they
burned so long with nothing to feod
them. So long, so long, and now
they have perished uttorly: only tho
cold ashes remain, so cold that noth
ing in this world can over revivo
them. Tlie last spark died tonight!”
She paused with u little gasp, and
then went on:
“1 hardly know myself, I who was
so full of feeling once, every fiber of
my being aching for the love of one
man—for you."
"No, do not interrupt me. It is of
no use now. You might plond to
me, nnd zveqp to me in an agony of
tears and it would not stir my heart
single throb—oil, my heart boats
so quiotly now," and sho smiled
gently nnd put her hand up against
her slim silken corsngo.
‘I am a frozen woman. My life
so far ns love is concerned is endod;
there is no more to come. Eight
weary years is a long time, a cruel
eternity to those who suffer. It has
frozen up my heart and I do not caro
now. Hear mo say it—I do not care I"
She put up her hands again os
Parkman mode an impetuous gesture
to come to her.,
“Only for my voice, my dear voice
and the applauso of the people—I
love that. Oh, how it came to mo
tonight and solaced my poor worn
out heart I”
She leaned toward him suddenly
and said in n voice so low that it was
almost a whisper:
‘I was going to lbok—I was going
to sing to you, but it was then, at
that moment when I stepped upon
the stage, that the lost spark died; it
flared up and went out like a candle
and I did not care—oh, the joy of no;
caring I”
And she sank back and closed her
eyes with a little smile playing about
her wistful Ups.
"Madeline I” Parkman cried, and
came and leaned over her chair, his
face bent down near hers.
“Great God I how much do you
think a man can stand?”
"Not as much as a woman by
eight years,” she answered, a little
scornful note quivering through her
soft voice,
He did not heed her answer, hut
went on. his breath touching her
cheek.
“To think that you should have
loved me like that, and now when I
give you my life and very heartbeats
you will not care. Oh, Madeline,
have mercy 1”
She shook her head gently from
side to side, her eyes still closed.
“I am wiUing to wait, dear life,”
he pleaded, with tender pathos in
his voice, “years—as long as you
wish, only teU mo that it will come
back—your lost love for me. I have
been blind, brutally bUnd,” and he
writhed backward and held his hand
across his eyes to press back the pain
that stung him with his own accusa
tion. Then be went on:
“I do not ask that you love me as
you did once, but ever so Uttle, Mad
eline.”
He leaned over her and looked in
tently at her closed Ups; they did
not even quiver. He noticed the
tracery of blue veins in her temples,
and he ached to rest his Ups against
their deUcaey, but he could not.
there was no emotion on the calm
face before him.
“Madeline, for God’s sake, look at
me—look into my eves 1”
one raised ner dob ana looked into
the eyes so near her own.
“Speak—eay something,"he plead
ed.
“Oh, what can I say to make you
understand that it can never come
hack, not in this world!” she said
wearily. “It is dead; aU my pas
sionate past is dead; my heart itself
is dead. Why will you not under
stand and ;o away! There is no
feeling left in me. Iam as cold as
you were once; I do not care if I
never see you again."
Her eyes met his calmly and wea
rily, and he looked long into them,
then of a sudden he seemed to under-
With his strong face
Morris Ss Co., the Purchasers, Will Hnee
New Honda Printed l'er the Clip
“Strange, Madeline I Strange, when
your voice is the only one that I care
to hear in all the world; yonr face
When Harris & Co, of Chicago, to
whom the waterworks and sewerage
bonds of the olty of Albany were sold,
closed the trade with the Mayor ami
Counoll, they stated through their
representative who was here, that If
any Irregularity was found, or that IT
the bonds that had been ordered by
the olty were defeotlve or unsatisfac
tory In any way, they would have new
ones printed or lithographed at their
own expense.
It seems that the bonds that have
been printed are not satisfactory to
the purchasers, and Messrs. Harris A
Co. linve notified the Mayor and Coun
cil that rather than use them they will
themselves incur the expense of having
new ones printed or lithographed.
Tlie bonds that the olty bad printed -•
have not been signed up, and this issue
will be destroyed nnd the new bonds
used Instead,
Messrs. Harris * Co. have informed
the Mayor that the new bonds will be
ready in a few days,
gaud and full of the a
he hel
held out his hand to Her.
“Goodby,” he said softly.
“Goodby,” she answered.
And their Uves never
again.—Strand Magazine.
crossed
mm
Mom© FnclM About illelou Nhipmenta.
A glance nt the report of melon ship
ments through Albnny would give one
a double surprise.
First, at the number of ears shipped
North and West via Albany, nnd sec
ond, at the distance and the great
number of plaoea to which they are
shipped.
The Georgia melon Is shipped as far
North as Into several points of Canada;
West, Into Missouri, Kansas and Da
kota, and Into nearly all the Eastern
and Western Btntes, It certainly has
a reputation. Tho 8tate of Ohttf has ;-vl
already disposed of 07 carloadsof
them, nnd the season has but jusfk *“
gun.
Georgia has reoelved the next
cst number of oars, 81. Illinois das
had 41 londs of tho lusolous fruit,
Missouri 85, Indiana 88, Pennsylvania
80 and Louisiana 28. Six carloads have
been sent Into Canada, and several tip
Into Dakota.
Within the last twenty-four liou;
1)0 oars have passed through A
and up to dato 624 oars have
shipped through.
A Pleasant Surprise.
Rev. J, W. Robertson Is a much
pleased man.
Yesterday he was notified that ti
members of Ills oliuroh nnd frl
outside had made up a purse of a
slderable number of dollars which i
to be given him with their wishes f
a pleasant and a profitable vaoation.
Mr. 8. J. Jones and Mr. liar
Tarver were the prime movers In
paring tlie pleasant surprise.
Mr. Robertson Is very grateful
all who contributed tbelr share to t'
amount—grateful for two reason:
cause the not showed him the kli
feelings of the people toward liiin,:i
because the purse of a Metbodlst i
tor Is never full to overflowing
filthy luore.
Death of IHIm Jennie Adame.
Miss Jennie Adams, whoso
Illness was reported In a previou
sue of the Herald, died at the
donee of her father, Mr. J. J. Ad
on North Washington street,
morning at 8:45 o'olock.
Miss Adams baa been ill for i
weeks with some disease of a eli
nature, whiob, reoently,
more aoute form, and her life ha
despaired of for several days.
During .her protraoted illne
had all the oare that medical i
loving friends could give her.
The remains will be' taken to
son to-morrow mornlngforlnt
The Herald tenders its
sympathies to family, and f:
the deceased;
Frightened, but Nut luju
Mrs. T. P, Green had a nnrri
cape from a serious injury yesti
She bad been out driving wltl
family pony and cart and stopp
their residence on Railroad
again, where she alighted
baggy for a few minutes,
hltobed the horse when ready t
tinue her drive, but before she t
bank from his head, he became
ened at an approaching baby
containing an ice cream fre
and came down with his hoofs
grazing the back of her
shoulders, and tearing theb
dress into shreds. Mrs.
badly frightened, but not Inju
The horse indulged in a
ter after coming down on
which resulted In a broken-u
RnunU; Mentioned at £
The blue list of the Ltioy
stitute was sent out last '
Only special excellence can t
mention on that list,and ti
Enquirer-Ban of Friday
llsblng the names of Oolumb
ladies whose good work en
to a place on the-list
others,* the name of Miss I
daughter of Mr. T. M. Ca
city.
Albany Is always j
any of her
ceived honorable i
Hiss Carter stood
Itsh and Frenoh oou
ag* of 97A.
Bargains on all line
week at *—"
tffi