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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