Newspaper Page Text
Conyers Weekly.
VOL XV.
m ■ ■ ' £ £ ^ 3 Sii^
tj£f'
1 e IwbiiAAr. ■y M®
AUTfiOft or “ THE MAtf IN BLACK.”
“A GEhfTLEMAN OF FRANCE ”, E rc .
COPYRiaHT 1891, BY CASSEtt PUBLISH INC CO. ALL RlUHTs' RESEWEC
CHAPTER II.
The chancellor was lodged in the great
chamber on the southern side of tho court¬
yard, a room which we called the tapes¬
tried chamber, and in which tradition said
that King Henry VI had once slept. It
W as on the upper floor, and for this reason
free from the damp air which in autumn
and winter rose from the moat and hung
about the lower range of rooms. It was
besides of easy access from tho hall, a
door in the gallery of the latter leading
into an anteroom, which again opened into
tho tapestried chamber, while a winding
6taircase, starting from a dark nook in
the main passage of the house, also led to
this state apartment, bu* by another and
more private door.
I reached the antechamber with a stout
heart in my breast, though a little sobered
by my summons, and feeling such a reac
tion from the heat of a few minutes before
as follows a plunge into cold water. In
the anteroom I was hidden to wait while
the great man’s will was taken, which
teemed strange to me, then unused to the
mummery of court folk. But before I had
time to feel much surprise the inner door
was opened, and I was told to enter.
The great room, which I had seldom
teen in use, had now an appearance quite
new to me. A dull red fire was glowing
comfortably on the hearthstone, before
which a posset stool was standing. Near
this, seated at a table strewn with a pro¬
fusion cf papers and documents, was a sec¬
retary writing busily. The groat oaken
bedstead, with its nodding tester, lay in a
background cf shadows, which played
about the figures broidored on the hang¬
ings or were lost in the darkness of tho
corners, while near the fire, in the light
cast by the sconces fixed nbove the hearth,
lay part of the chancellor’s eq lpment.
Ihe fur rugs and cloak of sable, thesaddle
V
A' V LJ \j
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'Ji VI lieoo' If tf
l 7
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UjJs
(ft
Speaking with one tended. clavilike finger ex¬
bags, tho dispatch boxes and the sliver
chafing dish gave an air of comfort to this
part of the room. Walking up and down
In the midst of these, dictating a sentence
at every other turn, was Stephen Gardiner,
As I entered the clerk looked up, hold
lng his pen suspended. His master, by a
quick nod, ordered him to proceed. Then,
signaling to me in a like silent fashion his
command that I should stand by tlie
hearth, the bishop resumed his task of
composition.
For some minutes my Interest in the
man, whom I had now an opportunity of
scrutinizing took unmarked and at my leisure,
up all my attention. He was at this
time close on 70, but looked, being still
tail and .(out, full ten years younger. His
face, square and sallow, was indeed wrin
kled and lined; his eyes lay deep in his
head; his shoulders w ere beginning to
bend, tho nape of his neck to become
prc:::;iKT,t. He had lost an inch of hi*
full height. But Jiis eyes still *hone
brightly, nor did any trace of weakness
mar the stern character of his mouth or
the crafty wisdom of his brow. The
was the face of a man austere, determined,
perhaps cruel; of a man who could both
think and act.
My curiosity somewhat satisfied, I had
leisure first to wonder why I had been
sent for and then to admire the prodigious
Dumber of books aDd papers which lay
about, more indeed than I had ever seen
together in my life. From this I passed to
Ustening, idly at first and with interest
afterward, to the letter which the chancel
tor was dictating. It seemed from it*
tonor to be a letter to some person in au
toonty. and presently one passage attract
my attention, so that I could afterward
a 1 it word for word.
i do not think,” the chancellor pro
nounced, speaking in a sonorous voico
»dci the measured tone of one whose
ynoughta tnat the ne Duchess perfectly Katherine arranged in will his head,
ven
to take the step suggested as posable.
m c.arence’s report may be of moruc.it
Let the house therefore he watched if any-
8 “ TOrin ? of flig ! u be marked, and
tato notice whether there be a vessel in
toe pool adapted t0 her purpose. A vessel
irae ng to Dunquerqua would be most
eIy - her husband till I return,
Ti™ t ^7 "
1 * hhl 5 1 ro und l- v
snnt? tehiu? ° e4 , Wbat f0ll0Wed Tl thoughts - T tt was lagged up °5
Dnch^’ e6S b ?l ^“tbenne r '8 tvho:fly and taken her up fortunes. with tbe I
w , wl ° 516 JO,ins ot 0 ,1 a “ d
teedih,* O ' S S *i P c ° uld be sho was said to
mte, and what the t jargon , about the
Pool and Dunquerque meant. 1 was still
winking of this when I was aroused by
“ a.irape silence, and looking up found
wattheehancelior was bending over tho
person the roo “- table. The secretary was
As the door closed behind J u him . Gardiner _ ,.
™e from his stooping posture and came
hanH^ inward me, a roll cf papers in his
' Jsow,” he said tranquilly, s«it
■ ;
CONYERS, GA„ SATURDAY, MARCH 30,1895.
’ fng himself in an elbow chair which stood
,in frout of the hearth, “I will dispose of
your business, Master Cludde.”
He paused, looking at me in a shrowd,
masterful way, much as if—I thought at
-the time, little knowing how near the
truth my fancy went—I were a beast he
was about to liny, and then he went on.
”1 have sent for you, Master Francis,” he
said dryly, fixing his piercing eyes on
mine, “because I think that this country
does not suit your health. You conform,
but you conform with a bad grace, and
England is no longer the place for such.
You incite the commonalty against the
queen’s allies, and England is not tho
place for such. Do not contradict me. I
have heard you myself. Then,” he con
tinued, grimly thrusting out his jaw in a
sour smile, "you misnamo those whom tho
queen honors, and were Dr. Stephens—
you take me, Master Malapert?—such a
man as his predecessors you would rue the
word. For a trifle scarce weightier Wol
sey threw a man to rot six years in a dun
geon, boy!”
I changed color, yet not so much in fear
-—though it wero vain to say I did not
tremble—as in confusion, I had called
him Dr. Stephens indeed, but it had been
to Petronilla only. I stood, not knowing
what to say, until he, after lingering on
his last words to enjoy my misery, re¬
sumed his subject. “That is one good and
sufficient reason—mind you, sufficient,
boy—why England is no place for you.
For another, thoCluddos have always been
soldiers, and you, though readier witted
than some, which conies of your Spanish
grandmother, are quicker with a word
than a thought, and a blow than either.
Of which afterward. Well, England is go
lng to be no place for soldiers. Please
God, we have finished with wars at homo.
A woman’s reign should be a reign of
peaco ii
I hardened my heart at that. A reign
of neaco P forsooth of’ when the week before
wo ha<l heard a bishop burned at
r , tpr , , hirilouptl inv heart 1 would
.nthofri,htPCndthoun hlkncwliis
power and know how men in those days
1f “•
0
Wft hurt not rinnp with me ret however
“One nTl«T™ more re-ison I have ” he continued “fm
ni n ta,t to sneak sult’
savdno sny ng 'that that England naandwi will not not suit your your
health, Master Cluddo. It Is that I do not
want you here. Abroad you may be of
use to mo and at tho same time carve out
your own fortune You have courage an.
can use a sword, I hear. You understand
-and it is a rare gift with Englishmen
some Spanish, which I suppose your father
or your uncle taught yqn. You can, so
Father Carey says, construe a Latin sen
tence if it be not too difficult. You are
scarcely SO, and you will have motor your
patron. Why, were 1 you, boy. with your
agc and your chances, I would die prince
or pope! Aye, I would 1” He stopped speak
jug, his eyes on fire. Nay, a ring of such
real feeling flashed out in bis last words
that, though 1 distrusted him, though old
prejudices warned me against him, and, at
heart a Protestant, I shuddered at things 1
had heard of him, the longing to see tho
world and have adventures seized upon
me. Yet I did not speak at once. He had
told me that my tongue outran my
thoughts, and I stood silent until he asked
nie curtly, “Well, sirrah, what do you
say ?”
“I say, my lord bishop,” I replied re
spectfully, ' that the prospect you hold out
to me would tempt me were 1 a younger
Eon or without those tics of gratitude
which hold me to my uncle. But, my fa
ther excepted, I am Sir Anthony’s only
heir.”
u Ah, your father!” ha said contemptu
gps] y . "You do well to remind me of him,
f or I see you are forgetting the first part of
niy speech in thinking of the last! Should
i have promised first and threatened later?
you would fain, I expect, stay here and
woo Mistress Petronilla? Do I touch there?
You think to marry the maid and he mas
ter o{ (j 0 t 0 n End in God’s time, do you?
Then ij s(t n , Francis Cludde. Neither one
por t b e other, neither maid nor meadow,
w iH be yours should yon stay here till
doomsday!” ‘
i started and stood glowering on him,
speechless with anger and astonishment.
“You do not know who you are,” he
continued, leaning forward with a sudden
movement and speaking with one claw
i ike finger extended and a malevolent
gleam in his eyes. “You called me a
nameless child awhile ago, and so I was.
y e t have I risen to be ruler of England,
Master Cludde! But you—I wiii tell you
which of us is ba se born. I will tell you
who and what your father, Ferdinand
cludde,was. He was—nay, be is—my tool,
gpyi jackal! Do you understand, boy?
y our father, is one of the band of foul
crea tures to whom such as I, base bora
• though I be, fling the scraps om their ta
, Die! He is the vilest of the ie men who
do my dirty workj mv i ad
, g e had raised his voice and hand in pas
Son real or assumed He dropped them
I as I sprang forward. “You lie!” I cried,
trembling all over.
j “Easy, easy!” he said. He stopped me
where I was by a gesture of stern com
n iand ‘Tliink’” he continued calmly and
weightily ' Has any one ever spoken to
you o{ your father since the day seven
years ago when you came here a child,
b rm1 ght.by a servant? Has Sir Anthony
talked of him? Has any servant
hi s name to you? Think, boy If Ferdi
; nand cludde be a father to be proud cf,
. wl)y does hte brother make naught ol
; bim?”
: „ He js a Protestant,” 1 said faintly,
f aint ly because 1 bad asked myseir this
very question not once, but often. Sir An-
1 y, !dom mentioned my father that
ony so ee
£ had thought it strange* myself^ I had
bought it strange, too. that the servants,
who must remember Ferdinand Cludde,
never talked to me about him. Hith
erto 1 had always been satisfied to answer,
Ho is a Protestant," but face to face
with this terrible old man and his pitiless
charge the words came but iaintly from
my lips.
■ A Protestant," he replied solemnly
'Yes, tins comes of schism, that villains
cloak themselves in it and parade for true
■lien A Protestant you call him, boy?
He has been that—ayo, and all things to
all men—and he has betrayed all things
and all men. Ho was ill the great ear
dinars confidence and forsook him, when
ae fell, for Cromwell. Thomas Cromwell,
although they were of the same persuasion
ne betrayed to mo. I have hero,” and he
struck the letters in his hand a scornful
blow, “the offer ho made to me and ills
,erms. Then eight years back, when tho
late King Edward came to the throne, 1,
too, fell on evil days, and Master Cludde
abandoned me for my Lord Hertford, but
;id me no great harm. But he did some
hing which blasted him—blasted him at
i tiSt.
lie paused. Had tbe fire died down, or
was it only niy imagination that the
shadows thickened round the bed behind
hijn and closed in more nearly on us, leav
ing his pale grim face to confront me—his
face which seemed the paler and grimmer,
the more saturnino and all mastering, for
< he dark frame which set it off?
"He did this,” he continued slowly
‘which came to light and blasted him—
he asked as the price of his service in be
traying me his brother’s estate. ”
'• Impossiblol” 1 stammered “Why. Sir
Anthony”
” What of Sir Anthony, you would ask?’
an obstinate pnpistl He might go haug—
cr to Warwick jaill’' -
“Xay, but this at least, my lord, is
false!” I cried “ Palpably false! If my
father had so betrayed his own flesh and
blood, should I be here? Should I bo at
Cutou Knd? You say Ibis happened eight
ars ago. Seven years ago 1 came hero
Would Str Anthony”—
' There are fools everywhere,” tho old
jD.an sneered. “When my Lord Hertford
refused your father’s suit, Ferdinand be
[in—it is his nature—to plot against him
He was found out and execrated by all,
f • r he had been false to all: He fled for his
life. He left you behind, and a servant
-ought you to Coton End, where Sir An
thony took you in.”
I covered my face. Alas, I believed
L who had always been so proud of
'>iy lineage, so proud of tho brave tra
ditions of the liouso and Us honor,
80 P roll( 1 Coton End and all that be
‘dnged to It! Now, if this were true, 1
never again take pleasure in one
rT3e wil ° was the worst of traitors! I sank
on tho settiB bchin(l me an(l hld llj y
- ‘°e Another might have thought loss of
«>e blow, or, with greater knowledge of
the world, might have made light of.it as
„ thing not touching himself. But on
, . 0 , young as I was and proud, and as ye*
n dgr, and having dono nothing myself, it
f.]j with crushing force.
It was years since I had seem father
End i could not stand forth loyally and
£g h t his battle as n son his father’s friend
f ,d familiar for years might have fought
On the contrary, there was so much
which soomod mysterious in my past life.
S) „ wc h that bore out the chancellor’s no
gusation, that 1 felt a dread of its truth
even before I had proof. V ot I would have
Pi i 0 of. “Show mo the letters!” I said
i !r shly. “Show the the letters, my lord!”
' You know your father’s handwriting?’’
■•Ido.”
j u new it, not from any correspondence
r; , y father had held with mo, but because
j had niore t han once examined with nat
urai curiosity the wrappers of the dis
pa tchcs which at intervals of many
months, sometimes of a year, came from
him to Sir Anthony. I had never known
anything of the contents of the letters, all
that fell to my share being certain formal
p , essa g es , which Sir Anthony would give
j., 8i generally with a clouded brow and a
t^sty manner that grew genial again i nly
p j t !i the lapse of time.
yardiner handed me tho letters, and I
t. ok them and read one One was enough
That my father! Alas, alas! No wonder
that I turned my face to tho wail, shiver
i.,g as with the ague; and that all about
,. ;e , except the red glow of tho fire, which
burned Into niy brain, seemed darkness!
j hml lost tire thing I valued most. I had
l , 3 t at a blow everything of which I wa -
proud The treachery that could flush
t/la t worn face opposite to me, lined as it
wag with statecraft, and betray the wily
tongue into passion seemed to me, young
a ,,d impulsive, a tbiDg so vile as to brand
a man’s children through generations.
Therefore I hid my face in tho corner of
the settle, while tho chancellor gazed at
me awhile in silence, as one who had
made an experiment might watch the re
suit!
“You see now, my friend,” he said at
last, almost gently, "that you may he base
born in more ways than one. But be of
g 0od *cheor. You are young, and what I
“--------—-^- _____
.
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the _ all , . . An .
System * OI impurities
absolute for - Sick . . . headache, , ,
Cure
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gtipation r and kindred diseases.
ii C,an vaU , i l UU dft Wlthdllf WIIUUUI IUCU1
Smith, Chilesburff, r* Va.
writes _ I don tkflOW how I eOUid ,
QO . WltilOUt , tnem. , 1 T Have , <___, flaa
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’T'ls-f-f’c I Pi |I .
IUII& L* IVPl* 1 * 11 C
-------
have done you may do. Think of Thomas
Cromwell—his father was naught Think
of.the old cardinal—my master. Think of
the Duke cf Suffolk—Charles Brandon, I
i mean lie was a plain gentleman, yet ho
. married a queen More, the door which
j they had to open for themselves I will
j open for you—only, when you are inside,
play the man and bo faithful.”
" What would you have me do?” I whis
pored hoarsely.
"I would havo you do this,” ho an
gworod "There arc great things brew
ing in (ho Noth or lands, hoy—great
changes, unless I am mistaken. I havo
need of an agent there, a man, stout,
trusty, and, in particular, unknown, who
will keep mo informed of events. If you
will be that agent, I can procure for you
—and not appear in the matter myself—a
post of pay and honor in tho regent’s
guards What say you to that, Master
Chiddef A few wcoks, and you will ho
making history, and Coton Kmi will seem
a mean place to you Now, what do you
g.,yv
l was longing to bo nwny and alone
with my misery, ' hut 1 forced myself to ro
ply patiently
■ With your leave I will give you my an
swer tomorrow, my lord, ” I said ns stead
ily as I could, and I rose, still keeping my
face turned from him.
• Very well,” ho replied, with apparent
confidence But he watched me keenly,
as i fancied. ”1 know already what your
answer will ho. Vet before you go I will
give you a piece of advice which in tho
new life you begin tonight will avail you
more than silver, more than gold—aye,
more than steol—Master Francis. It is
this: Be prompt to think, he prompt to
strike, be slow to speak! Mark it well!
It is • otapl1^dpn. !™
sk m -’ ?ou —
He pointed to tho littlodoor opening on
the staircase, and I bowed and went out,
closing it carefully behind mo. On tho
stairs, moving blindly in tho dark, I fell
over some one who lay sleeping thero end
who clutched at my leg I shook him off,
however, with an exclamation of rngo,
and stumbling down tho rest of tho steps
gained tho open air. Excited and feverish,
I shrank with aversion from tho confine
uiont of my room, and hurrying over tho
drawbridge sought at random tho long
terrace by tho fish pools, on which tho
moonlight fell, a sheet of silver, broken
only by the sundial and the shadows of tho
rosebushes. Tho night air, weeping chill
from the forest, fanned my cheek* as I
paced up and down Uno way 1 had bo
foro me the manor house—the steep gnblo
ends, the gateway tower, the low outbuild
ings and corn stacks and stables—and
flanking these tho squat tower and nave
of tho church I turned. Now I saw only
the water and the dark line of tree, which
fringed the farther bank. But above these
“?rssr-sssu—~
There all was a bJur oi wild passions and
resolves. Shame and an angry resentment
against those who bad kept me so long In
ignorance-even against Hlr Anthony
were my uppermost feelings I smarted
d the thmlg ht that 1 had been living
hla charity 1 remembered many a
ttia when x hud taken lnuch on lliy8oIf ,
ant , , )0 hnd filnilpd , nud tho remombranoe
stung mo. I longed to assort myself and
dQ sollK ,thing to wipe off the stain,
But should I accept the bishop’s offer?
It never crosBed luy mtnd to do so. Ho
had h , lm n laccd nl0 , and i hate d him for
jt j j0ng i n g to out myself off from my old
|if0 j c , )tl]d „ ot fiupport a , )at roii who
WO ulci know and might east in my teeth
t)ie o)d shnni0 a third reason, too,
worlied powerfully with mo as 1 been mo
coo)er This was tho conviction that,
apal . t f r0 i n the glitter whloh the old man’s
cra{t had ca3 t about it, the part he would
! lava nie play was that of a spy— an in
formerl A creature like_I dared not say
like m y father yet I had him In my mind,
And from this, from the barest suspicion
0 f t)lte i shrank as tho burned puppy
from the fire—shrank with fierce twitcli
ing of nerve and sinew
y,, t if I would not accept his offer it
was clear I must fend for mvself. His
threats meant as much as that, and I
6m Ued sternly as found necessity at ono
with inclination I would leavo Colon
End at once, and henceforth I would fight
for my own hand I would have no name
until I had made for myself a new one.
This resolvo formed, I turned and went
back to the house and felt my way to my
0 wn chamber. Tho moonlight poured
through the latti.ee and fell white on my
pa ]i et . 1 crossed the room and stood still,
Down the middle of the coverlet—or my
ey e S deceived me—lay a dark lino,
I stooped mechanically to see what this
was and found my own sword lying there,
t h e sv ,ord which Sir Anthony had given
mo on niy j as t birthday. But how had it
CO nie there? As I took it up something
joft an d light brushed my hand and
drooped from the hilt. Then I remem
bered. A week before I had begged I*e
tronilla to make me a sword knot of blue
velvet for use on state occasions. No doubt
she bad dono it and had brought the sword
back this evening and laid it there in
token of peace.
I sat down on my bed, and softer and
kindlier thoughts came to me—thoughts of
love and gratitude, in which the old man
who had been s. second father to me had
part p would go ag i had resolved, but I
would return to them when I had done a
thing worth doing, something which
should efface the brand that lay on mo
now. With gentle fingers I disengaged tho
ve i ve t knot and thrust, it into my bosom.
Then I tied about the hilt tbe old leather
thong, and began to make my prepara
tions considering this or that rente while
t r.-nted for mv (lancer and chanced my
dou i de t and hose forortouter raiment and
long, untanned boots. I was yet in the
of thig wben a bnock a , che door
| startled “Who me. is there?” I asked, standing erect.
For answer Martin Luther slid in, clos
the door behind him. The fool did
not speak, but turning his eyes first on
* one thing and then on another nodded
: eagely.
| “Well?” I growled. ,
, “You are off, master.” be said, nodding ,
again. ”1 thoughts
j *.\,Vhy did you think soi’I retorted 1m- i
i patiently. bi-i- fly „ i
“It is tune for tho young to
Iwhen tbe cuckoo begins to stir, ne an
; swered.
T understood him tUmly and in part
"You have b on listening." 1 said wrath
fully, ii;y checks burning
And boon kicked In the face like a fool
for my pains,” tc answered Ah, well,
it is belter to ho kicked by the hoot yen
love than kissed by the lips you hate. But
Master Freuds, Muster Francis!*' ho con
tinned in a whisper
He said no more, and I looked up. The
man was stooping slightly forward, ids
pale face thrust out. There was a strange
gleam in his eyes, and bis teeth grinned in
the moonlight. Thrice he drew his fine r
across his lean knotted throat. iShnll I?
hn hissed, his hot breath rebelling mo*
‘ shall I?”
1 recoiled from him, shuddering. It was
a ghastly pantomime, and it seemed to me
that 1 saw madness in his eyes. v In henv
on s name, no!” 1 cried. “No! Do you
hear, Martin? No!”
Ho stood back on tho instant, iis a dog
might have dono being reproved. But I
could hardly finish In comfort after that
with him standing there, although when
I next turned to him ho seemed half asleep
and his eyes were dull and fishy as ever,
‘ One thing you can do,” I said brusque
'{' h ™ 1 hesitated, looking round m
1 wlshcti to splul Bomething to 1 etronilla,
«»"«> w,,rt ’ 80!lll, keepsake. But I had
nothing that would servo a maid s pur
P ose 11 nd could think of nothing ant i my
eye lit on n house martin’s nest, lying
where I had cast it on tho window sill. I
h ,ad taken it down that morning because
the droppings during the last s. miner had
laden on the lead work, and I would not
have it used when the swallows returned,
It was hut a hit of clay, and yet it would
sc rvo. bhe would guess its meaning.
I gave It Into his hands. ’Take this,
iWonillT , PrWatel'7 yo.f undLtamh
j--j-.-«- '
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
Tho Russian Hebrews who swat turd
to this country had in most cases largo
and not very interesting families. Yet
these children aro fitting into American
and republican conditions with amazing
rapidity. They have, to begin, that
happy self confidence which character¬
izes their race the world over. Added
lo this, they aro naturally linguists, un¬
derstanding in Ihe start the Russian and
Hebrew tongues. Knowing those, any
other language is mere play for thorn to
learn. Among the brightest and most
promising pupils of the city public
schools aro the young Russian He¬
brews They leara with amazing rapid¬
ity often and take naturally to writing,
speaking and dramatio display. Somo
of these young Russian-American He
will .... bo tho , prominent .
brews among <
newspaper men and politicians of tha ,
country when their time comes.
'
Read tl»e etory of *‘Francis CHwMe.”
A. synopsis of preceding chapter* each
week,
CROWN'S IRON RITTERS
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j
Columbia THATPUTO MEANS ( .
** Sicycles mi BICYCLE THE BEST
;«C m
The Standard for All. ■zmz
Have you feasted your eyes upon the beauty
and grace of the 189? Columbias? Have you
tested and compared them with all other makes?
> Only by such testing can you know how fully
’ the Columbia justifies its proud title of the
“Standard for the World.” *100
Hartford Bicycles, next-best in quality,
sell for *80 and *60; *£0 for boys’
and girls' sizes.
■3? 9*
’
3 V POPE MFO. CO.
•
General Offices and Factories,
[ HARTFORD, Conn.
. ll^T
>A/y ERANCH STORES i
Boston, San Francisco,
New York, Providence,
Chicago, Buffalo.
AN ART CATALOGUE of these famous wheels free at any
Columbia Agency, or will be mailed for two 2 -cent stamps.
NO. 13.
CITY DIRECTORY.
' \. (!Vf oOs^JI-*.
»> ( . .» r •
‘ * * n
' 11 ' % ’ *’
_ FivH.'Uin,
.1. . «S>«*|ih nsou,
(JhMd Cul Cl’, ' . i •. .\1. An im.
M arsis , K A 11II pel',
Kti vi t Lhurse'.!-, \V. B. Smith.
rocs- ILMRX.
J l* l i l> y, U i . Snmuapr-S J
It I will. A IV Junes, L J. Al
mmni, J S JiihusdU
SIAN DIN G COM MJTTEES:
Sts eel; L .) Almand, J R. Irdriri
Fiimuo ; r. riiiHv, j w. j >u«
Sanitary: . ei JoTuhou, M C
Suuiint'i'H.
So 'o«l: J. It- Irwin, Ji. J. Alninml
Obaner e c : J. W J one*, J. It.
It will.
HOARD OF HEALTH.
Dr J A Guinn, J. t. Til y, J.
"I. Johnson
County Directory.
On) n iri, O. S' iinnniR.
I i lk, \\ T Hu-im.
SiienlJ, »V. H. ,il Austin
'l'leti-into, Jo ii K \Vnit.i.k«r.
Tax i iiJ uiur, E F. Conic,
T x Rw- win, it L. Huvlou,
!Sui v yi i, R. A. iiiiitm.
< oiihio! , L T. Fm nil.
(Jniiniuies Court tir-t Monday in
«?Huu urolith
•'upPrior Courts first and second
Moutlays in April and October.
J USTICE ( OUKTS
Town, 4 Ii Monday, hr h month
NhtllieKI. Is Saturday eaeli iuomiIi
Honey Creek, 2nd f-iuuiduy, each
month.
Aorraine 3rd Sa »rd»y, each
month.
Church Directory
PrimitiveB smar J. F. Altnand,
past >. Preaching si com! Saturday
and Sunday.
Baptist: B. D. llagsda'e, pastor.
Pi eiictnng 1st and 3rd Suurdayn
and Sunria/8, Saturday before Ihe
1st Sunday conference uny. Sunday
School 3:15 a. m. D. M- Almand,
Sup’.
Methodi t: Dr J. V. QuilliaD.
pahtor. Pleaching every Sunday,
,v UIllJlW f> ch0 l)1 9:46 a in. H. Y.
M,,Q 0| . | s u,t
D| , „ rtUrv Qaiw
pastor. I r« acning 2ml nud 4th
Sundays. Sunday School 9:30 a. in.
T. D. b’Knlley, Supt.
Conyers is going to have a Cotton
Mill. Call on Mr. W. J. Freeman and
take a shate