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o 0 J L I Jt? r ■ hj 0 rH
VOL. XV.
a SO szs-jras .If
m
AY
.N ALACK*’
*”**A G ffNTLE A*AN CF FRANCS"
[Copyright, 1881, by Cassell Publishing Co. Ail
SYNOI SIS.
Mary is queen of England. uncle, Francis
Cludde is living with liis Sir
Anthony, and hi*eou*in Fetromlla, Sir
Anthon.i’s daughter. Gardiner, bi*h
0 nof Winchester, pays a visit to Sir
Anthony, and being a Catholic is dis¬
liked by Franc' 1 *. who is at heart a
Protest*-' t. CHAPTER ll.-Gardi
ner tells Francis who his father is. that
he Is a traitor and informer, and offers
to make the yonnst man’s fortune if he
will enter his service as a spy Francis
fts ksfor time to reply and run* away,
E nding to carve out his own fortune.
CHAPTER III.
The first streak of daylight found me al¬
ready footing it through the forest by paths
known to few savo the woodcutters, but
with which many a boyish exploration
had made me familiar. From Coton End
the London road lies plain and fairtbrough
Sttatford-on-Avon and Oxford. But my
plan, the better to evade pursuit, was, in¬
stead, to cross the forest iu a northeasterly
direction, and passing by Warwick to
strike tho great north road between Cov¬
entry and Coventry, which, running
thence southeastward, wonld take me as
straight as a bird might fly through Dun¬
stable, St. Albans and Barnet to London.
My baggage conlisted only of my cloak,
sword and dagger, and for money I had
but a gold angel and a few silver hits of
doubtful value. But I trusted that this
Store, slender as It was, would meet my
charges ns far ns London. Ouco there I
Bust depend on my wits either for provi¬
dence at home or a passage abroad.
Striding steadily up and down hill, for
Arden forest is made up of bills and dells
Which follow one another as do tho wave
nnd trough of tho sea, only less regularly,
I made my way toward Woottou Wawen.
As soon aslespied its battiemented church
lying in n wooded bottom below mo I
kept a more easterly course, and leaving
Henley-iu-Arden far to tho left passed
down toward Loek Wootton, The damp,
dead bracken underfoot, the leafless oaks
and gray sky overhead—nay, the very cry
of the bittern fishing in the bottoms—
seemed to bo at one with my thoughts, for
these were dreary and sad enough.
But hope and a fixed aim form no bad
makeshifts for happiness. Striking the
broad London road as I had purposed, I
slept that night at Ryton Dunsmoor and
the next at Towcester, and the third day,
which rose bright and frosty, found me
Indeed, itepping gayly southward, travel stained
but dry and whole. My spirits
rose with the temperature. For a time 1
put the past behind me and found amuse¬
ment in the sights of the road—In the
heavy horses wagons and long trains of pack
and the cheery greetings which
ffietmewitb each mile. After all, I had
South and strength, and the world beforo
m», and particularly Stony Stratford,
where I meant to dine.
There was one trouble common among
Wayfarers which did not touch me, and
that was the fear of robbers, for he would
he a sturdy beggar who would rob an
armed foot passenger for the sake of an
•ugel, and the groats were gone. So I felt
terrors on that account, nnd even when
•tout noon 1 heard a horseman trot up
“hind me and rein in his horse so as to
“ e P pace with me at a walk, step for step
picions “•a thing which might have seemed sus¬
to some—1 took no heed of him. I
Was engaged with my first view of Strat
wrd and did not turn my head. We had
Walked on so for 50 paces or more before
It struck me as odd that the man did not
Pass me.
Then I turned, and shading my eyes
“tm the sun, which stood just over his
“Wilder, said, “Good day, friend.”
“Good day, master, ” ho answered.
He was a stout fellow, looking like a
wtizen, although he bad a sword by bis
jtte ”"!ch and the wore sunshine it wib an air of importance
wvc of opportunity might
*ra ripened into a swagger. His dress
Plain, and he sat a good hackney as a
1 icr s sack might have sat it. His face
4 ratbe last thing I looked at. When I
«i*d my eyes t<r it, X got an unpleasant
tot. The man was no stranger. I knew
® ‘ n a moment for the messenger who
rad t
summoned me to the chancellor’s
eraence.
x - remembrance did not please met
reading in the fellow’s sly look that
fcs r°f^d * 5 “ a PPy discovery mo and thought finding he had I
y i.^ruptly. on me
Ho did the Eame.
' sa flne morning,” he said, taken
fcs IM - T FU dd< n movement, but affeet
” '“difference ■ which
Mi the sparkle in
*?Mr" ied ' rara day for the time
"bis," 1 answered, gazing steadily at
ZGnteg “ratford?” to London’ Or mav be onlv to
^fortably he hazarded firtoetwl nn
felled ignorance under my eve '' but C still P ore
is of b^” me
> as may I answered
°2e ’ ■
^ nso , I am ure , be said
«**""> *•
ft* »° l-’K k herto” I renlted^ stepping
but lay mv band on the horse’s
Si?5ia?5SraKVK the man teined back and
li® bishop of Winchester*”
feenough Md Srt W i* l0Cta ”” ? '
r'raov ae s^d? y ...
104 1 can
vf" r 1 be ~ "- Steward, or whatever vnnr rame
•
.
U Master Pritchard,” he put in
«»il am oct ashamed o f it.»
CONYERS, GA„ SATURDAY, APRIL 6, 1895.
“Very well. Then Ictus understand
one another, Do you mean to interfere
with me?”
He grinned. ‘‘Well, to heplain, I do,”
he replied, reining his horse back another
step. "I have orders to look out for you
and have you stopped if I find you. And
I must do my duty, sir. I am sworn to it,
Master Cludde. ”
'■flight,” said I calmly, ‘‘and I must do
mine, which is to tako care of my skin.”
And I drew my sword and advanced upon
him with a flourish. ‘‘We will soon de¬
cide this little matter, ” I added grimly,
one eyo on him and one on the empty
road, ‘‘if you will be good enough to de¬
fend yourself."
But there was no fight in the fellow.
By good luck, too, ho was so startled that
he did not do what ho might have done
with safety—namely, retreat and keep me
in sight until some passersby came up.
He did give back indeed, but it was
against the bank. "Have a care!” he cried
in a fume, his eye following my sword
nervously. Ido did not try to draw his
own. ‘‘There is no call for fighting, I
say.”
“But I say there is," I replied bluntly.
“Call and cause! Either you fight me,
or I go where I please ’’
‘■You may go to Bath for mo!” he
spluttered, his face the color of a turkey
cock’s wattles with rage.
"Do you mean it, my friend?" I said,
and I played my point about his leg, half
minded to give him a little prod byway of
earnest. “Makeup yourmind."
‘‘Yes!” he shrieked out, suspecting my
purpose and bouncing about in his saddle
like a parched pea. "Y’es, I say!” he
Toared. “Do you hear me? You go your
way, and I will go mill).”
‘ That is a bargain," I said quietly,
“and mind you keep to it.”
I put up my sword with my face turned
from him, lest ho should see tho curl of
my lip and tho light In my oyes. In
truth, 1 was uncommonly well pleased
with myself and was thinking that if I
came through all my advootures as well I
should do merrily. Outwardly, boweveT,
I tried to ignore my victory and to mnko
things us easy as I could for my friend—if
one may call a nan who will not fight him
a friend, a thing I doubt. ‘‘Which way
are you going?” I asked amicably— *t 0
Stratford?"
Ho nodded, for he was too sulky to
speak.
“All right!" I said cheerfully, feeling
that my dignity could taka care of itself
now. "Then so far wo may go together.
Only do you remember lho terms. After
dinner each goes his own way.”
Ho nodded again, and we turned and
went on In silence, eying one nnothor
askance, liko two 111 matched dogs coupled
together. But luckily our forced com¬
panionship did not last long, a quarter of
a mile and a bend in tho road bringing us
to tho first low, gray houses of Stratford.
A long, straggling village it seemed, made
up of inns strewn along tho road, like
beads threaded on a rosary. And, to bo
sure, to complete the likeness, wo came
presently upon an ancient stone cross
standing on tho groen. I pulled up In
iront of this with a sigh of pleasure, for
on either side of it, one facing the other,
was an inn of tho better class.
■‘Well,” I said,‘‘which shall it he—-tho
ftoso and Crown, or the Crown without tho
rose?"
"Choose for yourself,” he answered
churlishly. “I go to the other.”
1 shrugged my shoulders. After all, you
cannot make a silk purso out of a sow’s
ear, and if a man has not courage ho is not
likely to have good fellowship. But tho
words angered me nevertheless, for a
shabby, hulking fellow lounging at my
elbow overheurd them and grinned. A
hiccoughing, blear eyed man he was as I
had ever met, with a red nose and the
rags of a tatteicd cassock about him. 1
turned away in unnoyance and choso the
Crown at hazard, and pushing my way
through the knot of horses that stood teth¬
ered at tho door went in, leaving tho two
to their devices.
I found a roaring fire in tho great room
and three or four yeoman standing about
it, drinking ale. But I was hot from
walking, bo after saluting them and or¬
dering my meal I went and sat for choico
on a bench by the window away from the
fire. The window was one of a kind com
mon in Warwickshire houses, long and
low and beetle browed, the story above
projecting over it. I sat there a minuto
looking Idly out at the inn opposite, a
heavy stone building with a walled court
yard attached to it, speb an inn as was
common enough about the time of the
wars of the roses, when wayfarers looked
rather for safety than comfort. Presently
I saw a boy come out of it and start up the
road at a run. Then, a minute later, tho
ragged fellow I had seen,on the green camo
out and liftched across the road. Ho
seemed to bo making, though uncertainly,
for my inn, and, sure enough, just as my
bread and bacon—the latter hot and biss
ing_-were put before me, he staggered
into the room, bringing a strong smell of
ale and onions with him. "Pax vobis
cum!” he said, leering at me with tipsy
solemnity. of
I guessed what he was—a monk, one
those unfortunates still to be found here
and there up and down the country, whom
King Henry, had' when he put down the mon
asteries, mado homeless. I did not
look on the class with pikeh favor, think
ing that for most of them the cloister, even
if the queen should succeed in setting the
abbeyson their legs again, would have few
attractions. But I saw that the simple
farmers received his scrap of Latin with
respect, and I nodded civilly as I went on
with my meal.
I was not to get off so easily, however.
Hecameand planted himself opposite to
“""Pex vohiseum. my son.” he repeated,
“The ale is cheap here and good.”
"So is the ham, good father,” X replied
Well well” the knave replied, with
full j
a dinfwltHta, ^ DUe “ aD ^
have ^1 miuBiunt me *.■«»’«■ wither i
X could eonld not not tell tell whether to to be be angry angry or or
’^The lanah ^Wlem^ys ■ t his imoudenca
he will answer fo,
it 1 ” repeated the rascal, with a twinkle in
his eye, as the landlord hesitated. He was
by no means so drunk a-: he looked.
“No, no, father,” icricd, joining in the
general laugh into which the farmers by
the firo broke. “A cup of ale is in reason,
and for that I will pay, but for no moro.
Drink it and wish mo godspeed.”
“1 will do more than that, lad,” lie an
swered. Swaying to and fro my cup,
which he had seized in his grasp, he laid
his hand on tho window ledge besjdo me,
as though to steady himself, and stooped
until li is coarse, puffy face was but a lew
inches from mine. “More than that,” he
whispered hoarsely, and his eyes, peering
into mine, were now sober and full of
meaning. “If you do not want to be put
in the stocks or worse, make tracks!
Make tracks, lad!” ho continued. ”Yonr
friend over there—he is a niggardly oaf—
has sent for the hundrodmnn and the con¬
stable, and you are the quarry. So the
word is, Go! That,” ho added aloud,
standing erect again, with a drunken
smile, "is for your cup of ale, and good
coin too!”
For half a minuto I sat quite still,
taken aback anti wondering, while tho
bacon cooled on the plate before me, what
I was to do. I did not doubt the monk
was telling tho truth. Why should ho lie
to me? And I cursed my folly In trusting
to a coward’s honor or a serving man’s
good faith. But lamentations were use¬
less What was I to do? I had no horse
and no moans of getting one. I was in a
strange country, and to try to escape on
foot from pursuers who knew tho roods
and had tho law on their side, would ho n
hopeless undertaking. Yet to be hauled
back to Coton End a prisoner—I could not
faco that. Mechanically I raised a morsel
of bacon to my lips, and as 1 did so a
thought occurred to me—an idea suggest¬
ed by some talk I had heard tho evening
before at Towcester.
Fanciful as the plan was, 1 snatched at
It, and knowing each instant to be pre¬
cious took my courage in my hand—and
my tankard. “Here,” I cried, speaking
suddenly and loudly, "boro is had luck to
purveyors, Master Host!”
There wero aooupleof stablemen within
hearing, lounging in tho doorway, besides
the landlord and his wife and tho farmers.
m tl
wm /Vi
//m 5y
*
m \
A*®
11 m -
m \S
<C y/ f
X caught a QUm , p$r. of him-, wild eyed and
f rantic with fear.
A villager or two also had dropped in, and
there were two peddlers lying half asleep
in tho corner. All these pricked up their
ears more or less at my words. But, liko
most country folk, they were slow to tako
In anything new or unexpected, nnd 1 had
to drink afresh and say again, “Hero is
bad luck to purveyors!” before any one
took it up.
Then tlio landlord showed ho understood,
-Aye, so say I!” ho cried, with an oath,
“Purveyors, Indeed! It is such as they
give the queen a bad name.”
“God bless horl” quotl) tho monk loyal
ly. tho purveyors!” farmer
“And drown a
exclaimed.
"They were hero a year ago nnd left u3
as bare as a shorn sheep, struck in a
strapping villager, speaking nt a white
hcat, but telling me no news, for this was
what 1 had heard at Towcester tho night
beforo. -Tho queen should lie warm if
she uses all tlio woof they took! And the
pack horses they purveyed to carry off tho
plunder—why, the packmen avoid Strat
ford oversince as though we had the black
death! Oh, down with the purveyors, say
I! Tho first that comes this way I will
shovv tho bottom of the Ouse. Ayo, that I
wiil, though X hangfor jt!”
"Easy, easy, Tom Miller!” the host in
terposed, affecting an air of assurance,
even while he cast an eye of trouble ut his
flitches. “It will bo another ten years he
fore they harry us again. There is Pot
ter’s Fury! They never took a tester's
worth from Potter's Pury! No, nor from
Preston Gubioti! But they will go to them
next, depend upon it!”
“I hope they will, I said, with a world
of gloomy insinuation in my words. "But
1 doubt it!”
And this time my hint was not wasted.
The landlord changed color. "What are
you driving at, master?” he asked mildly,
while the others looked at me in silence!
and waited ior more.
"What if there be one across the road
now?” I said, giving way to the tempta
tiop and speaking falsely—for which X
paid dearly afterward. "A purveyor, I
mean, unless I am mistaken in him, or ho
tells lies. He has come straight from the
chancellor, white wand, Warrant and all.
He is taking his dinner now, but ho has
sent for tbo hundredman, so I guess be
means business. ’
"For the hundredman?” repeated the
landlord, bis brows meeting.
-Yes, unless I am mistaken.”
There wpasilen^fora moment. Then
the U f™ dtafw^.
defiantly looked round on hi. neighbors.
"He has come, has be! ho roared, his face
swollen, his eyes bloodshot. then l wm
ssriss ajsssisi
as we were before, so that our children lay
plow ourselves? Or shall we sbqwAbat we j
F^nchmyn? Shall we teach . , Master Now, Now, what what Pur- . . ■
veyor veyor not not to to trouble trouble ,, us us again/ again/
say say you, you, neighbors? neighbors? J
So ficroe a growl of impatience and an
ger roso round me asat once answered the
question. A don-n red faces glared nt me
and at one another and from the very mo
.
U°Ji ^ the men as the* snarled
ami threatened lb* room rccrar-i: .vice ns
fill us it wus. Their oaths and erics Of
encouragement, not loud, hut the moro
dangerous lor that, the Irusli hurst of fury
tvli3t:ii rose as the village smith and mi
other came in ami learned lho news, tho
menacing gestures of a scorn of brandished
fist.-,—these sights, though they told of the
very effect at which I had aimed, scared
as well as pleased me. I turned rod and
white and hesitated, fearing that l hael
gone too fur.
The thing was done, however, and, what,
was moro, I luid soon to take cars of my¬
self. At the very moment when the huh
bub was nt its loudest 1 felt a chill run
down my back as I met the monk's eye,
and, reading In it whimsical admiration,
read in it something Insides, and that
was oti unmistakable menace. ‘ Clever
lad!’ ’ the eye said. "I will expose you,”
it threatened.
1 had forgotten him—or, at any rate,
that my acting would be transparent
enough to him holding the clew in his
hand—and his look was liko the shock of
cold water to me. lint it is wonderful
how keen tho whs grow on the grindstono
of necessity. With scarcely a second’s
hesitation 1 drew out my only piece of
gold, and unnoticed by tho other men,
who wero busy swearing ut and encourag¬
ing one another, I disclosed a morsel of it.
The monk’s crafty eyes glistened. I luid
my finger on mv lies
Ho held up two fingers.
I shook my head and showed an empty
palm. 1 had no more. Ho nodded, and
the relief that nod gave me was great.
Before I had time, however, to consider
tho narrowness of my escape a movement
of tho crowd—for the news had spread with
strange swiftness, and there was now a
crowd'assembled which more than filled
tho room—proclaimed that the purveyor
had come out and was in the street.
The room was nearly emptied ut a rush.
Though I prudently remained behind, 1
could, through the open window, hear as
well ns see what passed. Tho leading
spirits had naturally struggled out first
and were gathered, sullon and full of dan¬
gerous possibilities, about tho porch.
1 suppose the bishop’s messenger saw In
them nothing hut a crowd of country
clowns, for lie came hectoring toward the
door, smiting his boot with his whip and
puffing out hla red checks mightily. Ho
felt bravo enough, how that he had dined
and had at his had; three stout constables
sworn to kc-op tho queen’s peace.
“Make way! Make way there! Do you
hear?” ho cried In a husky, pompous
voice “.Make way!” he repeated, lightly I
touching the nearest man with his switch
I am tho queen a servico, boobies, and
must not he hindered.”
The man swore at him, but did not
budge, and the bully, brought up thus
sharply, awoke to the lowering faces and
threatening looks which con.Gonted him.
Ho changed color a little. But the ulo
was still in him, and forgetting his nat¬
ural discretion ho thought to carry mat¬
ters with u high hand. ‘ Conic, come,” ho
exclaimed angrily. "I have a warrant,
and you resist mo ut your peril. I have in
enter this liouso. Clear tho way, Master
Hundredman, and break these fellows’
heads If they withstand you.”
A growl as of a dozen bulldogs answer¬
ed him, and ho drew back as a child might
who has trodden on an adder. "Y’ou
fools! ’ he spluttered, glaring at thorn
viciously. "Arc you mad? Do you know
what you are doing? Do you see this?”
Ho whipped out from some pocket a short
white staff and brandished it. "I come Al¬
rect from the lord chancellor and upon his
business. Do you hear? And if you resist
me it is treason. Treason, you dugs!" ho i
cried, his rage getting the hotter of him,
“and liko dogs you will hung for It. Mas
tor Hundredman, I order you to take in
your constables and arrest that man!”
“What man?" quoth Tom Miller, cy
ing him fixedly.
“The stranger who came in nn hour ago
and is Inside tho house.”
“Him, ho means, who told about tho
purveyor across tbo road, ” explained tlio
monk, with a wink.
That wink sufficed. There was a roar
of execration, and in tho twinkling of an
eye the Jack in office, tripped up this way
and shoved that, was struggling helpless
ly in the grasp of half a dozen men, who
f UU ght savagely for his body with tho
hundredman and tho constables.
"To tho river! To the Ouse with him!”
yelled tho mob. "In tho queen’s name!”
shouted tho officers But these were to
those ns three to a scoroand taken by sur
prise besides and doubtful of the rights of
the matter. Yet, for an instant, ns tho
crowd went reeling and fighting down tho
road, they prevailed, the constables man
aged to drag their leader free, and I caught
a glimpse of him, wild eyed and frantic
with fear, his clothes torn from his back,
standing at bay like some animal nnd
brandishing hisstnffin ouehand, opacket
of letters in the other.
"I have letters, letters of state!” he
screamed shrilly. -Let me alone, I tell
y OU i Let me go, you curs!” j :
But in vain. Tho next instant the mob I
wore upon him again. ‘ The packet of let- j
u . rs went oneway, the staff was dashed
another. He was thrown down and plucked 1
up again and hurried, bruised and strug
gling, toward the river, his screams for
me rcy and furious threats rising shrilly
above the oaths and laughter,
I felt myself growing pale as scream
followed scream. "They will kill him!”
j exclaimed, trembling, and prepared to
follow. "1 cannot see this done.”
But the monk, who had returned to my
aide, grasped ray.arm. "Don’t bo a fool,”
he said sharply. "I will answer for it,
they will not kill him. Tom Miller is not j
a fool, though he is angry. He will duck
him and let him go. But I will trouble
L°an ”' ‘ '°' y ° UDg ^ |
I gavo it to him.
"Now,” ho continued, with a leer,"!
W ill give you a hint in return. If you are i
a good horse, w fitch belongs to a certain i
^ no nneto say you nay. And begone!”
heart h eL*t^, J looked beating n hard g hik fast. at him This This for was waVhoree a minute, horse steal stoal- my
ingi JnK> Wld ari(] ], horse orse stealing stealing was was a a hanging
matter. But 1 - - had - done - so much already
t b at 1 felt X might as well be hanged for a
sheep as for a lamb. 1 was not sure that ;
I had not incited to treasun, and what
*^sfejUng ajmr* beside that’
do it,” I said desperately.
‘‘Don't lose time, then.” quoth' my
mentor
I went out then and there and found he
had told the truth. Every soul in the
place had gone to see tho ducking, and the
street was empty. Kicked aside in the
roadway lay the bundle of /otters, soiled,
| but not torn, and in the gutter was the
staff. I stooped and picked up one anti
the other—in fora lamb,tin for a sheep,
and they might ho useful some day Then
I jumped into tho saddle and twitched the
reins off the hook.
But before I could drive in the spurs a
hand fell en the bridle, and tho motile's
face appeared at my knee. ' Well!” 1 sniff,
glaring down at him. I was burning to
bo away.
“That is a good cloak you have pht
there,” ho muttered hurriedly. There,
strapped to tho saddle, you tool! You an
cot want that. Give it me. Bo you heat?
Quick, give it mol” lie cried, raising his
Voice and clutching nt It fiercely, his face
dark with greed and fear
"I see, ”1 replied as I unstrapped it
“I am to steal the horse that you may get
the cloak. And then you will lay the lot
on my shoulders. Well, take it!” I cried.
“and go your way ns fast as you can.”
Throwing it at him ns hard ns I could,
I shook up tho reins and went off down
the read nt a gallop. Tho wind wills til’d
pleasantly past my cars. Tho sounds of
the town grew faint and distant. KntSh
bound of the good hack carried mo farther
ami farther from present danger, farther
and further from the old life. In the eJt
liilnrntJon and excitement of the luomefit
I forgot my condition, forgot that I had
not a penny piece in my pocket, and that
I had left an unpaid hill behind me, frit
get oven that 1 rodo a—well, a borrowed
horse.
[TO BE CONTINUED. J
TO THE PEOPLE OF
CONYERS AND ROCKDALE
COUNTY.
In the past eight, tears llmre have
been built and now in successful oper¬
a|inn , he s )ni j, a llum h R r of emit* 1
constructed , ith . , riilsfd • ,
factories , , u money
outlie installment plan, as the pay -
, ne „u ate made in a building ant! loiju
as „ 0( . ilUlon . Bv " 0 f this plan tjie
—ROCKDALE . GO rmv 1 ION , M1T MILLS— , s
of fifty thou-aml dollar* o-ipltal Is no!*v
being organized. The 600 .-Imres of
-rook, each of $ I CO 00 | ar value, ur
made payable in regular weekly pay¬
ments «f fifty cents per share, nnd the
regular payments for about four year*
will be ,>n f
1 phrtru ($100 ) GOc. per wk, or about $i. por no
5 ” ll'iilO) Z.f,0 “ 1U. ” ”
JO '• (SHOO) 11.00 ’’
As »oon hs the aiiicuiit <>f stock I*
auhscribed and the company organized,
usch subscriber for stock makes tin
paymeniR as above indioated regularlv
each week Mier-after until lk» stock is
piidup Farmers can take stock add
give their notes, with interi s', for ttii
dRimiiit of their sulisciiiitlnn, paV <bh
out of each cri p ior four years, FI ft
ill nisaml dollar* will build, and *llm>
sufficient working capital for a mill ol
about thiththousan I spindles ami oi
hundred looms, which will furnish
*" rk , lnr , . five _ °»*. „ ImncN. , ,
On the 500 ►iniren, whirh are payabi«
MUv cents per week per share, there
w ill be paid in l<> the company 4260.be
e ' ,,!n w eek, , *1,00 , MIC a moiit h. oi |lri,- .,.,
000.00 during each year. With tilts a
mount of money the site will be pur
'
. , , , jhlii)./* * . . n-tr ,-tod
and for the first . ) eat. In-nn
pan. in
the second vear one-half of the m»
chinery '' will be purchased ami put li
. . .
‘T* , a lo ’• n * _ '
lime of organization t it is proposed t>
Imve the intire plant in opirtlion.
, V hen the mill i* fini-lied and in opera
... . - .
T,|0n , it is not inly a maim m. in j.
|)i*nt for ihe people, but practically >
savings V-onet-tv institution a* well, for it is *<
ahead ami reni esen.s'
that would . not , . .
money nate men ai.cu
malated at all, except for the obliga
Uousof the stockholder* to get logeth
er an(1 an<1 8ave Sd ' e so s much money money each e u Week we
I he muted efforts and financial M M'
port of the people is urgent and neees
sar y t<) complete the enterprise. Many
t ' ave already subscribed. will « "1 von Y ou noi
also aid in the work by taking, stock ?
Subscription li*? can be found with
W. 3, FREEMAN,
at Almand’s Bank.
* * * *
SOME OF 1 THE] BENEFITS,
_
It wil! provide a wav for our people
aC( . llrnulat e moncyan.) at the mme
«»*•« spirit of f tbrilt , tt and d co
encourage a
operation among themselves.
It* constrn, t^n will develop the la
tent ns .ur. e*of ilm pe-piam.t of w hloo
farther deveh pm uts aie sure U> eome.
Jt wi n ,,j ve employment to many per
vide a tatter market for ibe farmer it.
**“* *”"
It will double the value of ou» cotton
a „,| kee n the money at home and in cii
c’Hat,on . among our people. ,
It will build up our town, make him
. better ' and increase the value ol
NO. 14.
SAM JONES ON MASONRY.
Rbv. ? um P. Jouph hnft been
|H'e»cliiiiji in St.. Louis. Ci» the
evening i f Match 5, he deliver*
«-*«! tt Sol nodi \\ Inch W3H rp|)ort-ft<l
in full m I’he Si. Louis Giooe-
1 Dpi.ihmt.ti, from which wo tako
the folloi) ii»k extract:
“Ih foi’u I u :is ever a, Chris*
tain 1 Ih.h nod olio thin,' and 1
want >oi<i to i ear this, I \V*tJ
a way from home and l w*s rob¬
bed an a train. I bad ah the
money me and my friend both
had. He didn’t ha’ e any, and
they got mine; and we gdt off
at a station. 'Jhat was when I
was a sinner, and that was
twenty five or twenty-six years
ago. He w as a steward in the
cllUl’ch n.) Ill I VU
just a |iI.m in, common, simple
Is dll [ WHS. Wlieil
We fljot off ut l lm sfalioll WBStfiy
ea , , . 1,4,1 H a moment ,fc np Or
. '
two. lie nay*, ‘ S im, I wonder
if there io a Masoiiin this (own ?"
L Haiti, “ \ Marion Y” lie said,
‘•Yes.’, “Well,” I said, “What,
do you want with a Mason?”
He says: “I can get some mon*
«y if I can find a Mason.” I
said, “Ain’t you a Methodist?’'
He said,i“Yes.” I said, “Why
don’t yoit go to the Methodists?
“Oli, shucks,” he said, “I will
go to the Masons,” And ho
struck out, and after a very few
miuutes cavne back, and I said
“How did you come out?” “All
right,” lie said, “I got it.”
“Who did you get it from?”
“From a Mason,’ ho says. 'Sam t
if you want to go to heaven, you
join tho Methodists, but if you
want a hold down here, join the
Masons, 1 ' So when I started
in, I just joined both and to*
night I am a Methodist and a
Mason, and f am getting along
well for both worlds.”
Doctors Off Ruard.
When doctors disagree, there is fun
Indeed. This is especially the ease if an
outsider can slip into one of their meet¬
ings unknown to them and hear their
unrestrained outpourings. A reporter of
the Kansas City Star thus slid into ■
mooting of the Aaademy of Medicine at
that . city. They thought he wae •
stranger pbysiqian and did not iu the
least curb themselves, but let out a
number of secrets which wild horses
Could not otherwise have torn from
tbem '
A largo part of the exercised of th*
evening consisted In whacking drasalltl
0V 1 th . ° h . ° a '' , fo - ^ usurping^tlie a-.i— dutlee of
tho physician. Yot one of the learned
gentiomen cried out boldly: "We all b#
to-vo .' homeopathy to be a frond; never
tb4ltiSs n . has . iaORht™ 'o . -,....... be moreoew- ..
ful of our patients’Stomacha Ami who
responsible for the army of opium
g cn( i s j ’ Who made tlio morphine eater?
Y v ^ ^ _i,l /
damnable prescription of - the L drag,
whereby tho innocent and UmraapectiBf
havn become your wretched fiolime."
Another A rh doctor doctor deeiared declared that that now* now
adays graduates of medicine did not
tnow tho drugs they prescribed when
^ v thcm while yet anotket
. , 1 emphatically BmTl . that hardly h . rrtl _ cm
doctor in ten knew bow to writ, a
pregcf , ption pioper ly. A druggist
present got in liis work by declaring
that often doctors did not know tb.
nature Of their owu prescriptions, and.
that druggists had to step In and saw.
them from killing (heir patients by «*
plaining to thorn tho kinds of drugs fb«)jr
were mixing together.
The Grand Army men expect to tw
prMellt lu groat nnmber8 at the d«dfc
tioo of the Chickamauga battlefield m
a national park Sept. 19. IlTlUka.
memorable day for the old •oidier. of
both north and south. President CJara
lapd will be present to dedicate the
rt be will ^ the **■->-. international *■*-* and Cot*
open
tiea ,he ^Position as well a» it*
tend the ceremonies at Chickamanga.
^ GROWS IRON BITTERS _
Cures Jndigemou, and Bilioiiaiiem,) Debility y«pep«U,Ualte
riv Nerv-ic . t.enaiwl