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About The Conyers weekly. (Conyers, Ga.) 18??-1888 | View Entire Issue (July 4, 1884)
ISiwill TWO DOLLARS get tbe CONSTITUTION ATLANTA WEEKLY ; THE CONYERS WEEKLY, ■ f ONE WHOLE YEAR. $ 1,00 Will get tbe Conyers Weekly' one year when paid in advance When sent by mail $1,25 "-lbe tne ; Addresfe, F ' TIIEWKEKLY, Con vers, Ga. * 2 YEARS. W T WILSON, No. 53 Broad St., - Atlanta, Ga wk ...... Wholesale Jobber of...... Sewing Machine supplies, adjusting fools, oils, needles, parts and attachments for all makes of Machiaes. Steam fit iKlmnd Sip attachments, water motors. Nil REPAIRING A SPECIALTY. Mr BkI for Domestil, Trade Crtalogue. Davis, St. Handles John, to Kew YSS, PHOTOGRAPHER,-- 401 . Whitehal st. Atlanta, Ga. Crayon, India Ink. &c. Every of first-class wofk executed at this Ka blishment. Plain Photograph en ■gements. Feb- 29 iv. N. J. HAMMOND, .J. G. ZACHUY, T. A. HAMMOND. zachry & hammond, Attorneys at Law, ■81 I iE, Alabama at., Atlanta, Georgia. 8®*,Practice in all the courts. Ss I am now here, and am prepareu (to id 1 kinds of taillSI FM1YW6 rating of all kinds in the rr. manner and at low figures. Give a trial. Respectfully. MAUSTON SIDNEY Feb. 29 6m. W- -T- -y- \ By Dr BMWooley I \ \ / A \ / / HISKY J Atlanta, Ga. loss of DrinkinG \ No pain. No V V CURE. and (time destroys from business. aU taste Cures the disease for stimulants. Book of paiGculars Office sent 65 sent to rny address fleet at Whiteha 1 street. WOOLEY, M. D i BYB.M. 1UM Atlanta. Ga. HABIT l Reliable evidence gtyen CURES and reference to cured patit ntsphysicians. Office 65 Whitehall, ( 'erid for my book on the Habit ana i.; Brovd Street......... ATLANTA, GA. Gists and Painter’s Material, French and American Window Glass etc. —Agents For— Averill Mixed Paint Company. • Also Agents For thf silicate paint company. ' Petrify Liquid, sure remedy for damp walls, recommemded by the Internation Aealth Congress and Sanitary Insti¬ tute of Great Brittain. ' m g;*: mi- 1 & CONYERS GA DEALER IN FINE HAND MADE BOOTS. SHOES, & H AR NESS. . Fire Insurance : LIFE INSURANCE, BY 9 CONYERS , G A. jfi-yMr. Daniell represents n large number of the very best Companies doing business in this State, and can I write up policies on all kinds of pro perty. Rates as low as anywhere. Everybody should have their homes and business insured and that with out . delay. CRAZY PATCHWOHIt! Having a large assortment of remnants and pieces of handsome brocaded silks, saiins and velvets, we are putting them up in assorted busdle6 and furnishing them for “Crazy Patchwork” Cushions, Mats, Tidies, &c., &c. Package No. 1— Is a handsome bundle of exquisite silks, satins and brocaded velvets (all differ ent.) Just the thiDg for the most superb pattern of fanev work. Sent postpaid lor 56 tents in postal No. note 2—Containing or 1 cent stamps- Package three times as much as package No. 1. Sens postpaid for $100. These are all of the very finest quality silk and cannot be I equalled at any other works in the U. S- at three times our prices. They ■ will please any lady. One order always ■ brings a dozen moie. Ladies’ Manual Fancy Work, with 4°0 illustrations fall instructions for artistic f»ncy m>rder handsomely bound, postpaid, 50c. ISilk Co., now. Address, The Rochester Rochester, N. Y. niching _________ PiieH—symptom* and Cure. The symptoms ars moisture, like per spiration, intense itching, increased by scratching: very distressing, particular ly at night seems as If pin worms were allowed to continue verv serious results IS Itch, a pleasant, Salt Rheum, sure acaid cure. Also Tetter, Itch, Bcotcl.es, Head, Ervsipe- iJhy las, Barbers' all crust Skin Diseases. Address, Box, by mail, 6^ een s; 3 for $1.25* Dr, S>Vayne & SON, pbila. Pa. Sold by Druggists. i mm m E?pa fry m V: ■ «} ■ a ■s- m r. H ilf Ck $ ' . hi! } S VOLUME VII. CHEWTON ABBOT BY HUGH CONWAY. Chapter I. The mistress of Chewton Abbot had somehow conceived the idea that the girl who had won her son’s heart was of a dollish style of beauty. She may have jumped at tills conclusion from the memories of her own young days, when she found the heart of man was more susceptible to attrac¬ tions of this type than to those 'of her own severer charms. Pretty enough, after a fashion, she expect¬ ed to find the girl, but quite crush able and pliant between her clever and experienced hands. She had no reason for this impression. She had coldly declined to look at the por¬ trait which her son, that morning, had wished to show her. Having formed her own ideal of her would be successor at Chewton Hall, she regulated her actions accordingly. Her plan was to begin by striking terror into the foe. She wished no deception; the amenities of social warfare might be dispensed wi th on this occasion. Knowing the advan¬ tage usually gained by a sudden and unexpected attack, she had not re¬ vealed her name. She simply desir¬ ed the servant to announce a lady to see Miss Keene. Hearing a light step approaching the door, Mrs. Abbot drew herself up to her fall height and assumed the most majestic attitude she could. It was, as one may imagine, a fine three-decker of the old days turning her broadside, with sixty guns run out and ready for action, upon some puny foe, to sIioyv her that at a word she might be blown out of the water. Or it was what is called now-a-days a demonstration in force. The door opened and Millicent Keene entered. Mrs. Abbot bowed bowed slightly; then, without speak¬ ing a word, in a deliberate- manner looked the new-comer up and down She did not for a moment attempt to conceal the object of iier visit. 1 Ici offensive scrutiny was an open de claratian of war and the girl was wel¬ come to construe it as such. But what did the gr#at lady see as , she cast that hostile but in spite of herself, half-curious glance on the girl who came forward to greet her unexpected vistor? She saw a beau¬ tiful girl of about nineteen; tall and, making allowances for age, stately as herself. She saw a figure as near perfection as a young girl’s may be. She saw a sweet, calm face, with regular features and pale, pure com¬ plexion, yet with enough color to speak of perfect health. She saw a pair of dark brown, truthful eyes— eyes made darker by tbe long lashes —a mass of brown hair dressed ex¬ actly as it should be. She saw, in fact, the exact opposite to the pic¬ ture she had drawn; and as Millicent Keene, with graceful carriage and a firm but light step, advanced toward her, Mrs. Abbot’s heart sank. She had entirely miscalculated the strength of the enemy, and she felt that it would be no easy matter, to tear a woman as this from a young man’s heart. The girl bore Mrs. Abbot’s offen¬ sive glance bravely. She returned her bow and, without embarrassment begged her to be seated. Then she waited for her visitor to explain the object of her call. “You do not knorv -who I am, I suppose?” said Mrs. Abbot, after a I have the „ pleasure . of f . knowing . Mrs. Abbot by sight,” replied Milli cent in a perfectly calm voice. “Then you know why I have call orl ed upon you? ae girl made no reply. Mrs. Aboot continued, w.tn un mistakable scorn in her voice; “I have called oaue<1 to ^ see the tne young vonntr lahv ladv whom whom nay son tells me he is resolved,against iis r wwish>makt * ife ” am sorry, Mrs. Abbot, you ,, &n<l , tell . „ me this. “How ,^7 could you expect P otherwise’ 7 ! raniv Abbot bears one of V the oldest names and is heir to one of the best CONYERS, ROCKDALE! CO., GA., JULY 4 , uff. estates in the county. When he marries lie must marry a wife in hi own position. What has Miss Keene to offer in exchange for what lie can bestow?” The girl’s pale face flushed; b d her brave, brown eyes met those of her interrogator without flinching “If I thought you would understand me, Mrs. Abbot, I should say that I have a woman’s true love to give him, and that is enough. He sought me and won that love. He asked for it and I gave it. I can say 110 more.” “In these days,” said Mrs. Abbot contemptuously, “persons in our sta tion require more than love—that a young man like Frank can always have for the asking. Of what fami ly are you, Miss Keene?” “Of none. My father was a trades man. ' He was unfortunate in his business and has been many years abroad trying to redeem his fortunes. With the exception of an education which, I fear, has cost my poor fath¬ er many privations, 1 have nothing to boast of. I live with an aunt,who has a small income of her own. Now you know my history.” Mrs. Abbot had soon seen that crushing tactics failed to meet the exigencies of the case. She put on an appearance of frankness. “You are candid with me, Miss Keene; and it appears tome you have plenty of common sense. I put it to you: do you think that Mr. Abbot or myself can lend our sanction to this ill-ad¬ vised affair?” The girl’s lip curled in a manner which was particularly galling to Mrs. Abbott. A tradesman’s daugh¬ ter, whose proper place was behind a counter, had no right to be able to assume such an expression ! “That was for Frank, not for me, to con¬ sider, Mrs. Abbot.” “But surely you will not marry him against our wishes?” The was silent for a minute. An answer to such a question requir¬ ed consideration. “Not yet,” she said. “We are both too young. But if, in after years, Frank Abbot wishes me to be his wife, I will share his lot, let it he high or low.” She spoke proudly and desively, as one who felt that her love was well worth having, and would make up for much that a man might he called on to re sign in order to enjoy it. It was this independence, the value the tradesman’s daughter set upon herself, that annoyed Mrs. Abbot and led her into the mistake of firing her last and as she hoped, fatal shot, “You are not, perhaps, aware,” she said, “that the estate is unentailed?” Millicent, who did not at once catch the drift of her words, looked inquiringly. “I mean,” explained Mrs. Abbot, “that my husband may leave it to whom lie likes—that if you marry my son you will marry a beggar.” The girl rose. With all her prac tice Mrs. Abbot herself could not have spoken or looked more scorn fully. “How little you know me, madam, to insult me like that! Have you so poor an opinion of your son as to fancy I cannot love Mm for himself? Did you marry Mr. Abbot for his wealth?” Mrs. Abbot winced mratthyattheqaestran. . “Do you thmk I wish to marry Francis Abbot only for the position I shall gain ? You are wrong, utterly wrong!” “Then,” said Mrs. Abbot, with the bitterness of defeat, “I suppose you will persist in this foolish engage ment, and the only chance I have is an appeal to my son 9 ” He alone shall release me from f that promise. But it may be long before ho can claim it, and so your anliety may rest for some time, Mrs. Abbot. 1 r have l this • morning.received • • i a letter , ,, from my father. He wishes me to join iiim in Austialia. Next month I shall sail and it will probably be i three three 01 or four tour years veurs before before T l return return. Then, if Frank wishes me to he h;s »-•* loss of lands and love of parent v ' ! and . carve out a way m . the . wotld ,, for , j himself T ” A weight • , was lifted , from , Mrs. , 7 > Abbot’s mind. She caught tie sit-j uatioiv at once. Three or four year’s separation! What might not hap¬ pen ! Although she strove to speak calmly, as a treat lady should she could not keep a certain eager ness out of her voice. “But will you not correspond during (bat time?” This was another important ques¬ tion. Again Millicent paused and consideration her answer. “I will neither write nor be written to. If, eventually, I marry your son—if his love can stand the test of silence and absence—at least you shall not say I did not give him every opportune tv of terminating our engagement.” Mrs. Abbot rose and assumed a pleasant manner—so pleasant that, considering tbe respective positions of herself and Miss Keene, it should have been irresistible. “1 am com polled to say that such a decision is all I could expect. You must for¬ give me if, with my views for my son’s career, I have said anything hasty or unjust. I will now wish you good morning; and I am sure, had we met under other circumstan¬ ces wq might have been great friends.” Whatever of dignity or majesty Mrs. Abbot dropped as she put on this appearance of friendliness was taken up by the girl. She took no notice of her visitor’s outstretched hand. She rang the bell for the ser¬ vant, and bowed coldly and haughti¬ ly as Mrs. Abbot swept from the room. But bravely as she had borne her¬ self under the eyes of her, inquisitor when the rumble of the carriage wheels died away from the quiet street, Millicent Keene threw herself on the sofa and burst into a flood of tears. “0 my love!” she sobbed out. “It is hard; but it is right. It will never be, I know! It is too long— too long to wait and hope. Can you he true when everything is brought to hear against me? Will you for¬ get? Will the love of to-day seem but, a boy’s idle dream? Shall I ever forget ? Chapter II. Mra - AWx)t drovo h «me in stately carriage, thinking deeply, Her mind was tolerably easy. She knew there was little ohance of a J onn S man’s love living through years of absence and silence. Frank would go into the great world and “ a ? e 011 many a fair face during that time; till the beautiful face ol Mi [fi¬ cent Keene—for even Mrs. Abbot could not gainsay the girl’s beauty— would gradually fade from his thoughts. He would taste the cup °f ambition; he would see what power and station meant in the world, and would soon laugh to scorn his boyish dream. He would very quickly realize the difference between Abbot, of Chewton Hall, an( l plain Frank Abbot, who had to earn the bread to keep a wife, be she ever so charming. In fact, the thoughts of Mrs. Abbot in her car riago and Miss Keene on her sofa were almost identical, although the words which expressed them differ cd. Save for one thing, Mrs. Abbot’s reflections were very comforting. mi Due drawback 1 „ , „ , avas that she j-n fei* u low ered m her own eyes. She had made a mistake, and had been treated with contumely. The victory was hers, but she had not won it herself. It was not her cleverness, but the girl’s right mindedness which would bring about the separation. She blamed herself for having misread the girl’s foye for Frank fas influenced by Ms possession, mortifying had to think of. Still, matters turned out well, She would have the satisfaction of telling her husband that all was or at . M end _ t]iat the hope 0 f the Abbots would not marry no body’s daughter. So busy was she with these thoughts three that she did not notice when some miles out “ ‘‘j ““ J lovni A of tgLL Kr :, tol a reins X*~ stopping preparatory to ne^tive p-esture ’ he simnW i t.opdicd ' his - hat and drove wMie : trank on, | and his mother passed, neither apparently noticein* the other# pro be continued.] NUMBER 17. BIRDS ON THE PAfcM. THE ROBIN. Mr. Tronvelot, ol M dford, Mass., being engaged in raising silk-worms for the production of silk, bad abun¬ dant reason to notice and remember wlgit kind <>! food our American robin redbreast prefers. His enclosure of seven or eight acres, where the worms were fed, was covered with netting to protect them, but birds would occasionally break in, and of these there who at hast ten robins, he said, to one of any other kind. It was the season of small fruits, and huckleberries abounded in the field’s close by, but when ho opened the crop of each ro¬ bin killed iu his enclosure, be found at all but insects. To test their destructiveness in this direction still further, ho exposed a thousand of his silk-worms on a scrub oak, which lus caused to be watched Iu three or four days the worms were all gone. The robins, with some help from the cat birds, had eaten them every one, Mr. Tronvelot, though a loser himself, gave the result of his experiment for tbe farmer’s benefit. The robin belongs to the thrush family, all of whom are enormous in sect eaters, but. the icdbreast beats them all in the number of kinds he devours. A son of Mr. Wilson Flagg caught three young robins and fed Uiern with angle-worms and soaked bread. They soon died. Ho then caught three more, and fed them with angle worms and a little fruit. Two of these died, and then his father told him to give the survivor insects to eat, and u vas riet.y of them. Accordingly all sorts of beetles, moths, grubs, bugs, vine worms, chrysalids and caterpillars were procured and laid before the bird. lie ate them all, and roou re¬ covered his health. Ho rlways kill¬ ed them before lie swallowed them and once when a hard beetle fai'ed t,o “set well” in his crop, ho threw it up and gave it another thorough pounding, after which lie swallowed it again. It has been proved that a growing young robin requires considerable more than his own weight of animal fcod every day, and during the sea sffln of rearing their young the off birds forage almost exclusively upon insects. A single one has been known to kill eight hundred in one Fanners and korticultarims who lose patience with the robins, because they sometimes touch their cherries, strawberries ami grapes, can afford to heed the advice of tins mitmalists before they strike down such pretty birds. “It does no harm to pat up scare crows in youi trees and gar¬ dens to keep them away, hut it hard¬ ly pays lo kill them.” The redbreast is net only poetical¬ ly but literally the friend of man.— Youth’s Companion. Ammonia is said to he an , eut fertilizer for strawberries. ]ioIU 65 }M(J ^ in [lksler an(1 * u p *J“ r ‘ s9Sa „ 1 ,, } * ‘ ' Cooked food answers as well 11 #■„ for J J ftr ^ ^ . , ,u L 0XCiU Siv }• It is said that cotton seed , when ted to cows in summer, in creases the firmness of buffer. A Maryland poultry raiser thinks that a pint of epsom salts to a half peca of meal, fed to chicks, is the **»«*<**»» Cut clover hay when about Iran . the heads are of a reddish brown. It injures the quality of the hay to * lt to p00a or after the seeds are ripe Sow the summer varieties .f g-unach at any time from April to Au^us 1> For a winter crop sow 1 , ' ' . ‘"• , , 1 q G- , . 11 i ’ i-^t. ” ’ r . sandy aeil iu Urdls. L““c • • , S I • b;» 3 b be mven there willjtayiotjirnip i flavor to milk. == | Advertise in the j WEEKLY. Advertising Rates. One square, lo Ones, 1 insertion. . Si,cO, Each subsequent insertion.......... o. 75 - Local notices ten cents a line each n*sne. Large advertisements taken at special rates. All advertisements are due alter the' fistiiuertion unless by special agrees meat. All notices advocating men for positon ten cents a line. Address all communications to Turf Weekly, Conyers, Ga. OLD RYE’S SPEECH. I was made to be eaten, And not to be drank ; To he threshed in a barn, Hot soaked in a tank, I come as 3 blessing When put through a mill : As a blight ahd a curse vV hen run through a still Slake me into loaves And your children are fed ; liut if into drink, X will starve them instead. In bread I’m a servant, The eater shall rule ; In drink I am master, The drinker a tool. Then remember the warning ■ My strength I’ll employ— If eaten, to strengthen ; If drank, to destroy. SHE TOOK HIM. At 11 o’clock yesterday forenoon a couple of excursionists nook seats on the east portico of tbe Citg Hall, directly under the window ot the Chief of Police. He was a bean-polo looking chap of twenty-three, with dust an inch deep on his back, and she was an auburn haired angel of 20, wearing a soli 1 shoe, ami chewing three quids of gum rolled into one. For a long time they sat and looked at the fountains and sighed and were silent. Then lie tenderly queried : “Haimer, isn’t it dreamy?” “Yum,” she answered. “I, could sit here forever,” be whispered. “I don’t believe I could—I’d be hungry.” More silence and sighs, and then he took her elbow in bis hand and said : “Hanner, I’m hungry now.” “Didn’t you bring a biscuit along?” “Hungry for your love, Hanner— not for biscuits. Hanner, s’posen we s’posen a case.” “Well?” “S’posen I know a Justice of the Peace who would marry us?” “How much?” “Two dollars.” “Have you got the money?” “Hanner, do you doubt my loan*. I’ve got 75 cents, and I’ll hunt up the Harker boys and borrow the rest ^ “I’m afraid.” “Now, Hahner!’’ “O, I can’t, ; you know my folks don’t like you.” “ifanner, hitch this way till I talk to you. S’posen I bought you can¬ dy, and peanuts, and watermelons ? S’posen you realized ray great love, and concluded to hitch to me before seine other girl captured tbe prize ? We’d gently slip down these steps, turn the corner of this stately edifice walk to tbe shop of a Justice, and you’d have me and I’d have you.” “O, dear, but pa would rave.” “Hold on,Hanner. Your pa needn't know it—no or.e will know it. We’d gently slip down these steps, tarn the coiner of this stately edifice, walk to the shop* of a Justice, and you’d have me and I’d have you.” “O, dear, but pa would rave.” “Hold on, Hanner, Your pa needn’t know it—no one will kuow it. We’d keep it as silent as the grave until I bad made your old man respect me for what I am. Gimmie half a show' and I’ll make your par toller me around like a calf within a vear, and your mar will fairly love the ground I walk oa. Come, HaD ner, let’s slip ” “O, Ga'.vge!” of “Hanner—Hanner! Ttytuk the , , .. . .. t 3 emeUYthe° 'gold* 6 “ateiSJ’ and diamonds, rings, and silk dresses.” “ Where?’’ aim “Why. next .year, when woo! C ? m eS Brn’t I own fortv acres ot land , ? Don’t I dote on you r Would I ask you to slip around it I didn’t love you above the best hos» * 11 tmr country ? Hanaer, let us slip.” me?” “And you really love “Yes?” Then th slippe c1. They caught the sight of a 6 foot farmer coming up the walk with a Mg cane on one arm and his wife on woid street, the latter whispering t himself, as he dodged through the City Hall. “ Th ' lfc!s ber old dad, and be k™cU oxen dwwn with that club."—G-mea go Tribune. In former times it was (generally held as good dwtrine that fast-growing trees produc ed wood of but little value. Tn this country, however, at the present day. there are many cases showinar the rule win not hold good, it bird cherry and many similar trees n*»t at alp the case of eat»!pa, a tree tbat grrows rapidly and has quite pithy tL wood when you atr. it has that voodis of a very desira blc nature, and. used as posts in the ground, or for purpos above ground, it will out Iasi pio woo l of many slow ifrwinir trees
