Newspaper Page Text
anew v. vvxv % ' ri KRALD.
Published every Tuesday Eve
ning-
SUBSCRIPTION RATES:
One Year, - $1.50
Six Months, .... 75
Three “ - 50
All subscriptions must be paid in
advance, end if not renewed prompt
ly at the expiration will lie discontin
ued.
fjj, ADVERTISEMENTS
..g • transient character will be eliarg
far tiuv first insertion, and 50c
Aii subsequent insert'on.
e®" t’onmiunii-ations intended for
personal benefit, will be charged for
at the regular advertised rates.
.%}TSliort and newsy eominnnica
uins from any' part of the county so
icited.
General Directory.^
cun. coykknvi ent-
N. L. Hutchins. Judge Sup. Court.
1> T Cain. Clerk Sup. Court,
J T Lainkin. Or inary.
W. P. Cosby, Sherin.
VV K. Brown, 'treasurer.
D. W. Andrews, Tax Hceeiver.
J R Verner, Tax Collectorr
R. N. Muffett, Surveyor.
J, H. VVilsou, Coroner.
COUNTY COMMISSIONERS.
J. D Spence, Chairman and Clerk, N.
Reunett, J E Cloud, J. R Hopsins, An
drew Garner.
BOARD OF EDUCATION.
T. E. Winn. School Commissioner. J.
R. Spence, A. T- Patillo, A. J. Webb,
J. R. Nowell, T. K. Winn.
.IITSTICF.S.
Lawrenceville, 407th dist—W. C
Cole, J P., M. L, Adair, N.P, Ist Fri
day.
Berkshire, 405 dist—J, VV. Andrews,
J-P., Charles McKinney, N. P. 3rd
Saturday.
Ben Smith’s, 316 dist—W. D. Simms
J. P , J. O. Hawthorn, N. P,3rd Sat
urday .
Bay Creek, 1295 dist —W. J. Baggett
J. P.. J. I’. McKlvaney, N. P. Ist Sat
urday.
Cates’, 408th dist—J. M, Arnold,.!,
P., K, VV. Nash, N. I’, 2nd Saturday.
Caine's 562nd dist- A. Adains, j. P
C B Pool. N P., 3rd Saturday.
Pulnth 1263 dist. —W. P, Brewer, J.
P,, Marion Roberts, N P., Thursday be
fore 4th Saturday.
Harbin’s 478 dist—L. L. Knight
J, P., J. W 7. Hamilton, If. P.
humlay before Ist Saturday.
Hog Mountain, 444 dist—A. L
Sammons, J. P., VV. L. Landers,
N. P. 4tli Saturday.
Martin’s, 1541 dist Asa Wright,
J. P., J. R. Nowell, N. P. 4tn
Saturday.
Norcrosi-, 4GG —W, R. Simpson,
J. P„ A. A. Martin, N. P. Friday
before 3rd Saturday.
Rook Bridge. 571 dist—A. J.
Lowery. J. P.. E. J. Mason, N. P.
3rd Saturday.
Sewanee, 404th dist—T. N.
Smith, J. P., A G. Harris, N. P.
3rd Saturda •’ ih ,
Buford, 55bti’i eh? T. C. Bur
ton, J. P., J- M. Posey, N ; P- Fri
day before 3rd Saturday.
MUNICIPAL.
John C. Smith, Mayor.
COUNCIL.
A L Moore, E P Herrin S A Townley
W J Brown
ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE OF TRAIN
Arrives trom Suwannee, 5.50 p. m
leaves tor Suwannee, 7 a' ra.
ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE OF MAILS.
Jefferson —Arrives 12 m, departs
p.m., Monday and Thursday.
Tkaoi.es Stork. Departs Gam ar -
rives t, pm, Monday and Thursday.
Loganvili.r. Arrives 10 a m, de
parts 1 p m.—Daily.
Yellow River. —Arrives 12 in., de
parts 6 a m„Welnesday and Saturday
w. h. harvky, p. a
CHURCHES
Baptist- -Rev J L R Barrett, pastor
Services every Sunday.
Methodist —Rev M P Turner Pastor
Services on the Ist and 2nd Sundays.
Sunday School. — A T Puttillo, Supt
Kverry Sunday at 3 p m
Presbyterian-- Rev J F McClelland,
Pasior, Services on 2nd and 4th Sundays
in each month,
Sunday School. —T R Powell. Snpt.
Every Sunday at 9.30 a nr
fraternal.
Lawrenckvili.k Masonic Lodge.— R
p Ann, VV M., S A Hagood, S VV„
S J.VVinn J VV. Meets on Tuesday
night on or beto: e lull moon in each
month.
Mr Vernon Chapter, No 39, R A
M.~J D Spence, II P, A T Paltillo,
See. Meets Finlay night belore the
3rd Sunday in each month.
Gwinnett Superior Court. —N. L.
Hutchins, Judge. Couvcues on the Ist
Monday in March and September.
Ttoui LAwr, ILL
Having ncfiitly located in Gwin
nett County tomiern his profession ft
ftervieort tiHa I'hysiciftn to tlit; eitizeiiM
Prompt attention to all calls will be
SVyen. <-not resilience ft* - lh. e ,Vf *i
Biiceof A ('union the Hurricane
Should road. *
March 24th 1884 tirno
‘ NO more eve glasses
More
Mitchell’s
Eye Salve.
A certain, Sato, effective remedy for
SmWnHI&WEp
producing I.ong Sightetlneaa, amt Re
storing the sight of (lie old
(.’iiirt- !<% r Drops, Granulation,
Stye-s Vmors, Red Eyes, Mat
ted Eye Lashes, and
producing quick
relief and per
manenf
cure
} Also equally elticacioua when used
«rotlier studios, such us Ulc«rs Fe
0,,,. Sol d Tumors, Halt Rheum,
’ \v ns, 1* es, or wli ei never inttuinu
= ts, Mil‘ hell s Halve may he
■ , nutago.
cul Druggists at 35 cents
.T-' rTfciMßiij J ‘ T,tc “' u “Ti
flminndt c j. grail
TYLER M. PEEPLES, Propriet' r
VOL XIV.
I‘fiRKXIAL nouns.
We nmy not force the law of late.
Or hasten oneperenial hour
That manifests or soon or late
Thy ceaseless and omniscent power.
! |t Thou hast led us by a way
We never sought, and which, when
fonnd,
Encircled ourmerediun duy
With blackness as of parch'iWl qfind.
We iook to Thee for wisdom still
Through all the subtle waysoj limek
We long to know Thy perfect will,
And consecrate our wills to Thine*
Thy duys of darkupss turn to light,
And out of all the stormiest hours
Of love and passion, in their flight,
Thou weaves! fadeless wreaths of
Uowers.
Nay, from the grave of love there
springs
New music of a siren’s song,
And unseen harps of countless strings
Repeat the echoes quiet and long.
Te«der and True.
CHAPTER 1.
THE DAWNING OF I.OVE.
A tall fair man, in veveteen
shotoiug jacket, coining slowly
across the field. A handsome ar
istocratic looking man, in spite of
his careless dress.
A girl, with sweet, grave eyes
and bright brown hair, leaning ov
er a low white gate.
A sudden joy iu the man’s eyes
when he sees her —a little slim,
wh.te hand goes gladly out
to meet him- -and for a moment
silence.
That is the picture I see fax
down memory's track, as the mists
that the years have gatbeied rol]
away ; and again 1 greet, as plain
ly as if it were but yesterday,
those two, one of whom was my
hearts darling, and the other my
darlings lover.
It was the old, every day and
usual story, weary in the teliiiug
aud weary in the acting. She was
all the world to me aud I was noth
ing to her. And yet I wro-'g her
She diu love me in her gentle
winsome ways, as a child loves
one who has guarded and watched
it with care.
“You like me James —don’t
ycu 1” bhe would somatimes ask,
roguishly ; and I would laugh
and call her a baby, even while
ihe man’s heart within was long
ing to tell her of the love that
filled me and would linger till 6r'od
should give me resi.
I never did tell her, though
sometimes the lempiation seemed
greater than 1 could combat. I
knew so well how it would have
pained her gentle heart to know
she had caused me sorrow, how
unintentionly. Audi ioved her two
well to shadow, even lightly, he
days with grief.
She was the light of the bous
hold—this girl with her
grave eyes an 1 merry ways—and
ihe sunlight @f that dull gray life
into which my footsteps had fallen
ever since years before the trouble
had come upon us which hud driv
en our father to a suicide’s grave
and left us beggars.
I was the pastor of St. Stephens
Cfiiureh a little minster tatious edi
fice whose congregation was none
of the most refined. Bitter in
deed had I rebelled against the
quiet eventfull life which I knew
before me when 1 accepted th e
rectorship of Kingston ; but grad
ually I had hurried all my high
hopes and aspirations ; and the
years as tAey glided onward
brought me peace.
One day a message had come
to my sister from a friend who
was dying in London. She obey
ed the summons ; and th:ee days
later si e returned with a little
soletnn-faced child, who crept like
a tiny ghost into my arms, layiug
her tired bead on my shoulder.
“James,’’ said my sister, I want
to have this lit fie birdiing stay
with us. She is fatherless and
motherless, and has no one in the
wide world to protect her.’’
I looked down into big brown
eyes that were watching me.
“She is tho daughter of your
friend ?” I interrogated.”
“Yes : and before she died I
promised—
“ Enough !’’ I interrupted. We;
have known wiiat it is to be friend
less ourselves, Kate our knowledge
is not limented how pitiless the
can be to those in need. Certain
ly we will keep tne child and I
guard her at her dead mother
would have done.”
So tffe lit de ones fate was decid
ed—Oar home was her home
my sister stood in the place of
the mother she had lost. Year
by year the little one drew more
dear to us. .411 the strong love
of Kates nature was lavished on
her save what she reserved for
me and the latter was no beggars
portion.
But to Hath Farley grew to be
dearer than a sister—though
thank God she nevev knew my
hearts secret—never knew me as
other than Iter own fond indul
gent foster brother.
Ah ! how fooli h we are the best
of un, sometimes ! How we create
bright, imraaginary castles, and
people them with those over whose
jives we have have no c introl !
4 change came -a change with
which 1 have opened this nara
tive.
Brian Vaughan and I had been
friends our youth. Iu my Eton
ion days I hail always liked the
inpulsive boy, whose nature was
a atauge mixture of grand values
and great fanjts—whose life bad
been empty foi the love all child
ren in the grave in the midst of
ll.e granduer which surounded
him.
There Lad been a change in a
good many things since our part
ing, and he had changed with the
rest. Then he was scarcely twen
ty one, and had not learned much
of the worlds wisdom. His stand
ard of truth aud honor haa been
very high, and Lusjuul lmd refer,
enced everything grand or great
with all a boys passionate puri
ty-
Of late certain whispers concern
ng hiui had reached me—odd
bits and ends of what society
thought of him—for his talents
and family were distinguished
enough to make it worth the
world’s while to afteud to him
It. was rumored he had trifeld with
the affections of numerous women
that he hail w isted any amount of
talent through sheer indolence ;
that though had many friends
warmly attached to him, he him
self was incajile of any attach
ment ; and this marked want of
anything lovingable in his nature
was mude all the more prominent
by a singular charm of manner,
which for the time being was cer
tain to win anyone, But it was
hard for me tobelieve that a few
short years contact with the world
had warped all the good in him
I was certain that beneath the
thin crust of cynicism, which the
spurious dandies of to day con
sider quite the thing lay. many no
ble qualities—a little chocked in
their growth, perchance, by the at
mosphere he braathed—but stiff
then -remnants of the loftly as
piration which liac- won my heart
at school.
A distant relative of his mother
had died leaving him a small annu
ty, and a great barracks of a place
called Raliegh Hall, remarkable
jor nothing but its numberless
moteateu rooms aid general dilap
idation. He accepted the money
as he afterwards informed me with
alacrity ; but the Hall was in dan
ger of never again seeing lnm .
when, by Homo strange freak, lie
oi e day left London, in the very
hieglit of ihe season, an<f came
therefor what he tenned quietness
and peace.
As our cottage was within easy
walking distance of ihe Hall ii
was not remarkable that we often
mot ; and gradually the old friend
ship w; s renewed ; for he was
pleased to greet me with
a genuine heartnesa that was
not feigned, and I was
glad to welcome him to my
home.
“Do you like him?” I asked
Ruth, a week or two after he had
arrived
the was bending over a rosebud
cliping the dead leaves with a pair
of scissors, and she did raise her
head as she answered nr.e :
“Yes.’’
I never asked her again—l need
no need to—for in the days that
followed her eyes fold me all I
wished to know.
Looking at him that morning I
acknowledged to myself that he
was the pleasan'es cheerist com
panion 1 had ever *teu with a man
OUR OWN SECTION—WE LABOR FOR ITS ADVANCEMENT*
LAWRENCEVILLE, GA. JANUARY 20 1885.
tier so full of bonhomie that few
eoukl resist its charm, and I did
not blame her that when lie was
near she seldom saw or noticed
me.
They were standing togetliei
now
Look she said lftera moments
silence, sloping to show him an ex
qnisite little view a purple moor
a hill beyond, and the clouds all
bathed in a sudden glory by the
morning sun, ‘Do not scenes
like these make you love God, as
children love tnose who are kind
to them !’’
But the lovely face near him at
traded his attention far more than
the landscape, though I kmwv he
was charmed by tnequaint simple
words,
“How different yon are, Ruth
from the women one generaly
meets,” he said.
He meant the very highest
praise. She took his words as a
kind of of rebuke, and her face sad
eued.
“Is it well to be unlike all the
world?” she signed. “Yet what
you say is true, no doubt. I sup
posa lam different from all the
people you know.’’
“You are indeedl” he replied, in
a tone so grateful that it ought to
have conveyed to her his mean
ing.
But grief and disappointment
had fallen upon her.
“Yes, of courst I” she returned,
dejectedly Then after a little
pause, she added: “How paltry
our lives must appear in compari
son to yours! and how glad you
will be to go back again!”
He laid his hand gently on the
little fingers that rested on ihe
gate and smiled.
“By returning I would lose y/u,
lie sail, “and there cannot be
much gladness in the thought of
that.”
“Isn’t it strange,” she remarked,
rather irrelevantly, “how people
come and go in one’s life, l/ke the
I waves of the restless sen? and how
soon we can forget the friend of a
year in a day?”
j “Rut the wave /hat departs in
the morning comes back at nig!:,’
he whispered:“and one may choose
to forget, and not.be able lo accom
; plish the deßire—for to forget, o
to remember lies not within one’s
power.’ -
“We seldom wish to forget a
pleasant thing!” she said slowly,
| revealing more in her simple
speech /han she was aware of.
A great tide of tenderness swept
! across his face as he laid his hand
on her bright hair.
“Ruth,” he s aid, his voice ling—
| ering softly over ber name, “one
cannot deny there is a God when
one reflects that He creates such
beings as yon,”
She lifted her grave, brown eyes
to his face.
“Tell me—has youi visit here
been a happy one?”
There was a world of entreaty
in her voice, and her lips quivered
slightly.
“I was never before. 1 may nev:
er again be as happy ar 1 have
been during the past few week i*i
Kingston."
Ttien there was a pause. To
them both the hour was fraught
with a tremulous joy—a vague,
sweet longing that meant love as
yet untold,
That night she was strangely
quiet: uud missing the merry laugh
I became uneasy; and when; for a
brief while, we were alon e togetli
ei in the tiny, perfumed garden.
I asked her if any thing had hap
pened during the day to give her
pain.
For answer she smiled brightly
in my face, and her little hands
stole conlidiuf'ly inn. mine. And
looking down at her, where she
rested a/ my feet, I saw mat
thougu she was but a child in
years —a child in heart—the wo
man’s soul that lay in her was
waking.
“Ruth,” 1 said stroking /he bow
ed head very tenderly, “until he
came yonr love was given to us
undivided; now it is different; but
dear child, keep one little portion
of your heart reset ved for us and
think of us sometimes.”
“Ever! ever!” she answered, in
« low, tremulous voice, with deep
emotion, d will remember to
love you both, always and ever!”
“Child." I whispesed, drawing
the winning face near my own,
some echos of the paiu iuy heart
felt lingering in my voice, “why
did ray friend come here to dis -
turb your calm serenity, and teach
you things yon might otherwise
never have known?” -
“God sent him I supptrse,’’ she
answered, a tender, loving smile
p’aying round Iter ,; ps, “Love iH
an atmosphere that pH higher
souls breath in | a medium thro’
which all itiing can lily seemed
clot licit in glories borrowed from
h< aven.”
“Perhaps so!” I sighed; “but to
very few does it bring happiness
ami many lives would he the bet
ter without it.”
“Treason!’’ she returned gayly
‘‘You dear old hermit, you must
not think, liecanse you are proof
I against and despise such follies,
that all Hit* world is the same!”
And I laughed—laughed pleasnt
ly—with never a tremble in my
voice. God knows, of all the uaar
tyrs who have lived and died, few
perished in the arena at Home.
CHAPTEK 11.
UNDER Till AUTUMN MOON.
It was night—one of those soft,
stilly nights when the earth laughs
back to t.hb star studded sky and
the very air seems tiled with frag
ranee. The wind murmed music
ally through the branches of the
trees, rocking to sleep on its bos
om the flowers, and whispering
good night to the birds. In the
distances lay the bay. calm and
plaeid. Not a ripple. not a aigli,
to disturb its serenity, or mar the
perfect beauty of the sliver path
way thrown so light,l» upon it by
the moon, which fell so clear, so
unbroken, that one could almost
deem it possible to step upon it
and walk onward tj the sky that
melted inio it on the far horizon.
•When I arose and saw the dawn.’
I signed for i hoe.”
The sweet tones of the sweet
Binder’s voice seemed not to dis
turb the exquisete silence ol tht
nigh/, but to harmonize and from
part of its beauty,
She was standiug on a lit/le rus
tic bridge, and the moonlight glim
inered over her kissing her lips,
her che. channel her wavy hair. A
fare, f«v'r woman was Ruth—a rare
; fair woman always— but that night
t he gentle passion of her love
made her seem almost divine, and
Brian Vaughan might be pardon
ed if in her presence he forgot all
he should have remembered.
“Ruth!”
From where 1 stood, in the shad
ows of the trees, I saw the tender
joy with wh : ch she turned to gleet
him.
“It was your sweet voice tha/
guided me,” he said, “or / might
not have known where ou were,”
She lifted her head and smiled.
As his gaze met hers, some of the
truth and sweetness that belonged
to her sprung from her to him,and
the great pure, honest love that
comes once to ivory man, came in
to his eyes and lingered ther.
‘ Ruth, they want meat home!”
he said, after a pause. “I will have
to leave in a few days.”
“To leave?” she repeated, in a
voice from which all joy lmd Hown
“1 am sorry;”
She turned away and looked
straight before her. There was
no quiver in nor tone her lips
did not tremble yet lie could see
how paleshe had grown jenoath
the moonlight. Then she said, in
a tone so low he could barely hear
her.
“Why need yon go until after
(Jhristmas?"
“Rut h do you want me to stay?”
lie aske 1, taking gentle possession
of her hands. “Te’l me the
truth!”
“I do!” she answered, tremulous
iy
“Rut why? Is it because you love
me, Rutii? ’
Silence. Then, bending his
head, he read in her eyes what her
lips were afraid to repeat; and with
a glad, low cry, he caught her m
his arms.
“Ob, child—my little white
child of grace—* have so hunger-
ed to 1 iow if it were true! I love
you with all my heart! Tell uia you
love me (oo!”
She lifted one baud and drew
his fnee down to here.
“I love you row ho wi'l / al
ways—wbith all my heart and
soul!’’ she whispered.
A strange, indescribable took of
pain crossed hit face, and I kt.ew
he w»s regretting the vanished
days of his youth, when his stand
aid of truth bad been high, and
his deeds tor evil few, and he had
been more worthy of her.
“Ruth," he stt' 1, pressing her
close to his heart, '‘when 1 gaze
into your isnocent eyes, and listen
to your words, I feel like a lost
soul, outeside of the gale of para
dise, who has no right te hold
communion with the aegels with
in..”
Hhe smiled contentedly from her
shelter within his ariusr
“There would bo no pnr«d : se if
those we love could not enter!’’
she said. “Thorefore heaven to
me would not he heaven if you
were not there!”
“You should not trust me!’’ he
cried, remorsefully tegreding
even while he gloried it the les
son he had taught her. lam not
worthy of it!”
“Brian, love should never doubt
Believe me, nay heart loveH yon
therefore my soul knows tre fear,"
He did not answer for a while
Then, very gentle, he released her
and taking both her hands in his
looked steadily into her upturned
face.
“1 am not a gosd man, darling,”
he said. “People have called me
bad, and reckless—not without
just cause. But my surroundings
have had a good neal to do with
it, I (liiuk. When, as a child, I
prayed with all a boy’s passion
ate longing, for levt, it was deni
ed tre, I had a mother who nev
er kissed are caressed me as I suw
other children’smother do. I nev
er had any one to sympathize in
my tastes, or teach me to pray to
/he (iod who created me, And as
I grew older, and learned that,
though our nature adorned the
hook a( St. James,’ and the queen
figured on my mothers visiting
lis', we were very far from being
riel', anil that many were the slrug
glue and trials which disturbed
our family household, ot which
our ari tocratic trends never faint
L guessed I made up tny nond
that the best things in life wealth
and power, no matter what means
were employed lo obtain them
The prayers I listed in babyhood
were for wep'th—that panacea for
all evil—and now. even now, (the
anguish deepened in his voice) 1
left London to avoids a certain la
ds my mother wishes me to marry
and whose weeldr I know would
have lempeted me had 1 stayed 1
am going back deteruied to try
hard and codquer myself and re
turn to you. But love, can you
trust me? ’
Ituth was for a time silent. She
seemed to have some niftieu'ty iti
flu dine ei their voice or words. At
lust however she spoke vuy low
ly arid slowly.
“I love you,” she said, simply
“aud with such love us mine
comes trust! I tin sorry your life
has been a broken one, and your
days have been unhappy!”
“Ituth! God bless you!” he ex
claimed “1/ may so.ind like pro
fanity for my lips to utter a bless
ing But God will hear even a
sinner’s prayer! If any one can
make me a good man, you can-
As long as life is in me, my pur
est. feelidgs will arise from
thoughts of you: and remember, if
ever you hear of my doing any
thing grand or good, the seeds of
good were sown by you ”
In the years that came to him
afterwards, he often remembered
her as he saw her thee, wilh her
sweet, gentle face, so lovely in its
holy love, and her rippling wavy
hair, where tiny shafts of moon
light lingered as if loving their
resting place.
She clasped her hands lightly
together and laid them against his
breast.
“You will come back to me!’’
she said. “On I know your na
ture so well! Ids a grand one,for
all its wanderings from right.
Pray, aud God will help you to be
JOHN T. WILSON. Ja., Publisher.
better! And remember! the high
est saints in heaven will be those
who have been the most, deeply
scarred id life's battle.”
Very gently he put his arms
around her an l smiled sadly into
her face.
“Star of my life.” lie rniirmered
‘•ask God lo give me strength to
grew worthy of yon!”
Then he releasen her; and to.
got her, very slowly, t hey went
homeward beneath the light of
the autumn moon, amt so disap
peared from nry view
TO Btl CONTINUED.
Ur lelton on I’l olnbii ion
Durirg the recent session of'the
Legislature, and while the prohi
bition cause was agitating that
body I >r. Felton, of Bartow coun
ty made use of the following lan
ftUagc :
There is but one remedy for the
terrible evil, and that is wipe it
out. (Applause). Hedge it, re
strain it by taxation, license or as
yon will, it is nullity. The peo
pie of georia are willing to wiye
ii out. He trusted the general
assembly would give the privi
edgo to every county in the state
to wipe it out. Talk about the
eonst.it,ntionility of prohibition !
The blest judges of the Federal
court have ueci le l that it is con
tit,u/ion—Chief Justice Taney—
[Here Mr. Middlebrooku raised
a point that he was discussing pro
hibition and not the tux act. The
speaker ruled that Mr. Felton was
not out. of order.]
Me. Felton—l am in order.
This house cannot well asess the
evils of the truffle. He favored
the repeal of (ho revenue laws'and
had voted three times to repeal
them. There was his record on
that question. He hoped to se*
lue time when there would be no
tax on grog shops, because there
were no grog shops to tax. 7/e
was wi'ling tax them sl.oooif it
saved but household from ruin.
He was asked by Mr. Bart'ett
if it, was not bettor 'o iibohsb it in
the country and let it be in the
cities where it was under police
regulations. He replied that the
cities insueh an event would be
liorne nest eggs for the spread of
mental and moral rum.
Mr. Brandt -Will high lax de
crease drinking '
Dr. Felton- I will answer that
briefly and to the satisfaction of
my friend. The solicitor general
of our circuit informed me that
when lie entered upon the duties
of his ollice, the counties of Whit
field, Catoosa, A/urry aud Gor
don in his eiruit, u'l licensed the
sale of liquors. They gave him
about the same amount in crimi
nal practice in each- Subsequent
ly tho coifntiob of Catoosa, Murry
and Whitfield voted ent tlie traffic
entirely or iu part. He gets
more criminal practice in Gor
don than in the other tluee coun
ties combined. The general as
sembly has the right to tax (hem.
Tho fait that you hedge t* e
traffic in is a confession that it is
evil.
Mr. Middlehrooks--Are not
.awyers and doctors taxed 1
Mr. Felton—Yes; sir* and I am
opposed to it. lain opposed to
tax mg prodcutivo business. Law
yers and doctors do not ruin fami
lies, blast households and people
hell with millions of souls,
H« was asked if he wished to
stop ihe traffic, why he didn’t
make drunk eness a crime.
Mr. Felion responded that he
would //<uke it criminal to lead
them astray. He wou d punish
tlie accessories more than the
criminal. The day was at hand
when die liquor shops are doomed,
The edict has gone forth from
every woman’s heart in this land
—the grog sh( p must die. Even
the little children who could
scarce lisp their fathers’ name
were praying that the grog shop
should die. God hasten the day.
(Applause).
Nothing can exceed ihe power
siul effect of this speech. It was
u strong and eloquent ellort.
The amendment of the com
mittee fixing the tax at JSSO was
adopted by a vote of ‘.HI to 07.
A Newburn, N. Y., man has
two hundred different sorts of ap
V lea grafted upon one tree.
GWINNETT HEItaLT).
- ———
OUR
JOB DEE AH .5/ Tr
IS COMPLKTi:.
ALL ORDERS FOR
NEATLY AND
PROMPTLY EXECU
TED,
NO 43
Kulcred in th« Port Office at Law
rence v ille, Oa., as second class mail
matter.
Home Kill**
If any of my readers will obey
the following home rules. 1 will
guarantee that they will succeed
in making “Home Sweet Home,” a
sweet place indeed:
1. Never speak a kind word to
any one about the house.
2. Never shut adoor behind you
without slamming it.
3. Never clean your hoots be
fore entering yonr domicile.
4. Never talk softly when an
swering a person, because if you
do the person may he apt to think
that you have consuinption.oi that
you ain’t boss of the place.
!». Never be polite nor civil to
solvents; be as austere as possible
and thus make them respect you.
by showing them that you are a
superior b eing.
«. Always reserve your best man
ners for company, and your worst
for your family.
7. When people are speaking
never wait till they are done, hut
always join in the middle of their
speech. This wi'l make them con
dense their talk, aud tus give you
a chance to table nonsense.
5. When you are called upon to
do a thing, never do il cheefully.
but be as crabbed as possible tin/ll
it is done.
9. Always sit down at /he table
or iu the pallor with diriy hands
and disheveled hair. This ia a
sure sign of good breading, and it
shows that yon are used to cornpa
ny
-10. Whenever a member of the
family says a thing, always dispute
it, for it shows superior knowledge
and talent on your parte.
Itai'Kwiiiing wlili a l*nin|>
The following story tolls of a
flannel weaver who was induced by
a surly answer to reflect ami men
t* make a good bargain with a
pump. This man had saved a
genuea for the purpose of having a
whole weeks dissipation.
He began on Monday, spent
three shillings per day for seven
days; on the morn ng of the
eighih day he was burning wilh
thirst, but his money was gone.
He went to the hack door.the place
where he bad spein his genuea, to
beg a pint on trust.
Judy, the laoladay, was mopping
the passage ; he stood looking at
Judy with his cracked lips, parch
ed taugue, and bloodshot eyes, ex
pectiug her (o ask him to
one drop ; but she did and he re
quested her to trust him for only
one pint,
Withaj indignant look of scroll
and contempt she relied : “Trust
thee 1 Thou diriy vagabond !
Set a foot in this bouse ami / will
dash this mop iu your face.' 1
The poor wretch hung down his
head in shame. He was leaning
against a pump. “Well, l’ump,"
he said: “1 have not spent a guinea
with thee, Pomp; wilt thou trust
me a drop?” He lifted up the ban
fie, put his Durniug mouth to the
spout, aud (bank his fill: this done
he again suid to the pump: “Thank
thee, Pump; and now hear me.
Pump. I will not enter a public
house again for Pthe next seven
years: and Pump, I Lou art a wit
ness.”
The bargain was kept, and inis
man afterward tiecaiue a respee
table manufacturer, and often said
it was a grand thing for him that
Judy threatened to dash the mop
in bis face,
“Where have you been for the
last three months ?”
“I’ve been in Europe. 1 was ia
Marseilles, ami„had the i nolt-ra.
Nobody knows what |I suffered.”
“Well, you were luck. That
accounts for your looking so well.
Suppose you bad remained here,
and gone tbiougL all tbis Presi
dential tacked as I nave bad to
do. You would be in you would
be in your grave now. You don t
know what suffering is.”
There is a blind Baptist living
in Rabun county 101 years old.
Ho calls bis neighbors around him
nearly every Sunday and preaches
a sermon.
Send us $1.50 and procure your
county paper lor twelve mouths