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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 i / m 'Ji VI lieoo' If tf l 7 /, 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 “--------—-^- _____ . iWCIIlJ Vpafe ICdiariWI. Pmnf I att S I LAVerriUbKeepuie iver Pills keen the bow- uo eij in natural mOtionan4 cleanse the _ all , . . An . System * OI impurities absolute for - Sick . . . headache, , , Cure OySpepSia, , ; SOUr conr Stomach SlOmaCH, COH COn 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 t Liver • auease for ior overtwenfv o er y y-;ars. } Am now entirely cured, ’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 Chios 1 mllgestion, Hilioasm sf. l'yK|’H , | , sia. Mala rift, tiervous»c**\ ami {ioncml ]»vhiliiy. I’hvut clans recoiniTFind if. All dealers kJI it- (iciitifiie , tist.ruHe iiiar 1 * c ti r«*»l lt»p*«ou wrapYV' T Highest Quality of AIL 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