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About Conyers weekly. (Conyers, GA.) 1895-1901 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 3, 1895)
ML .XV. If STORY CF FR&KCiS CLUDDE ’ jj STANLEY J. WEYHAJT. Jin, i,y Cassell Publishing Co. All . (W- — ' ngiits reserved. J SYNOPSIS. toThfliwnof England. Francis rahiwi-p' ft LidhisCousiniVtronilla with »"8 undo, hir Sir Minn/ 6afWinchester, (Blighter, pays ‘’ard.ner a visit to b.sh_ bn |Lv, Shr Frauds, «nd belnjf who a Catholic is at heart w d.s- a CEUPTElt II.—Gardi aft8(l> Francis who his father is, that Wisatraitor and informer, and offers llE1 il(e the yonnS man’s fortune it he jjjfltr, his service as a spy. i rancis «hffir time to reply and runs away, windin'* to curve out his own fortune. H-IIch overtaken by Clarence, an rtMfU.irtVmer, against whom he in¬ ly the tnoh by tel I ins them the man bw sang leader, and escapes on L flW ,’ s hoi se and w i tit bis d is patches r—Francis goes to an inn at 8t. Al ■ Ditto and showing the di-patches is be a queen’s courier, da¬ ilies arrives, ami he escapes with the jdofa waiting maid. V. and VI .—He Ds London and renders aid to two in pea. He and the women escape j»t, »f> attacked, and Francis is stun j] yil_ They are re-cued and put I board a vessel bound for Holland, beofthe women proves to be the Ouch sof Suffolk, wh> has married a man End Bertie. The other is a Bertie kinswo- is unnamed Anne Brandon. .tear! loo. Being P otestants, they w fleeing from England. Francis ‘ ■ item his name is Carey. VIII — ierttcend the river Rhine friend in a named boot 11 reach the house of a iiii-t-oui. IX., X and XI.—C ar e y twn Dy hi ph nu, Lands from *8 daughter fctiie violence of a soldier and kills man. They decile to bury the bird, but Carey lover, sees a ghost. them Van K, Dymplma’s discovered, warns they il°e. bttbey [li,-They are and reach Emm'“ich bv boat. ^Dutchman's Ills Carey, Bertie parly -tad the go two to Sauton, women Kfor VVosel on horseback. XIII.— feyare birds, delayed by Clarence, lloods, and the led by come up intern. Carey disperses them. The bsbeing flooded, they turn toward bn. Bertie by mistake kills one of (town guard. XIV.—They reach linn, but are besieged in the gare Be by the townsfolk, furious at the n of a citizen. Lin lstrom appears (grins de release for the parry’, provi¬ man who struck the fatal blow [given Oatey up. surrenders. To save Bertie, XV and who XV is t p, fcistried and condemned to death life being le 1 to the scaff old he is Honed by the Duke of Oleyes, who btnnely arrives, and Carey’s real Bis found out. XVII. and XVUi. Hne be Brandon is found to bo in with Clarence. She escapes to P- Bertie is offered servico in tue to of the king of Roland, to whose [»try the three go. After two years Ns ami Bertie return to England knkdun. They attend a meeting Nlteetionists, Wg them and finding Clarence denoun eliitn. CHAPTER SX. rood glaring at her. iMwerc a blind bat, or you would a found it put for yourself,” she coti *** scornfully. k "A babe would have ds knowing did.” as much of your fa¬ Jon ho know himself?” I muttered W;, looking anywhere but at her J. /oshock £ did net had doubt left moduli her word, and rather con Mr °d with her that 1 had not found prior “8 myself. But tho possibility of my father hi that wido world rmch I had plunged to escape from ted SWTlcdge of his existence had neve? to me. Had I thought of it, it seemed too unlikely, and -i 1 might haye seen in Gardiner a *Hn us,and so have identified him, Fitness of the chancellor’s transac- 5™ certain things about Clarence j ver seemed, oy would have seemed . til keii , tho point into considera [?-variance te! with my ideas of mj fa¬ prevented ma getting upon the t C' know sbesai(i that you arc his son, do Ht-we - '“No; hedoes not." pot told him?” L sl *e answered, with a slight Otteod. I comprehended that even ‘“eagerness with which, being fa n > wc had sought cno another’s lj jj" H s ? tl>0 » flays the Rhine had r"Meadful on fww that sho had'concealed Pen did hiip. ' too. you learn it?!’ I asked, know his fight name before J peer to.” *' ans ' v Pred. "Yours I learned ij,-, e h y°P at San Looking ,j , 0I ? bere fl the ton." ia f .;,. blP wh strange horror, inns Lwiwetood ’ i c) l she had betraved. had it. So it was that know! driven her from ps! “What to., n<wf ” she said. "You will y *°p must him! He save is your lisii'c *• destroyed ^ shuddered him; that at tho thought his . nac «dlnm! Save I, son, . him! The por -Prang out in beads on my fore CPU ' ! I uot save him. I should - , •teL” h'cBUs gnu loathed by Tthe” gt P ^' . bIC 1 ,DUt ^ d wiU ’ ’ t it?” she cried. B-foro I ' seized my arm and drag' aislp -- ? cold wvrcfcd a iiiisty window and. full ™.. *cioks shoo ; athwart the pffiars. ^tad sss T ^'^ ^peated, with trembling n 8 her 7 eS0D r ^ Cf r J B , 7 -'V! .3 A, u yj 1 > / i / ❖ CONYERS, GA., SATURDAY, AUGUST 3, 1895. r I swear,” x nhia: Sbo dpbpped her hand. Her form seemed to shrink and grow less. Making a sign to me to go, she fell on her knees tho step and drew her hood over her face. I walked away on tiptoe down tho aisle; but-, glancing back from tho door of tho church, I saw the small, solitary figure still kneeling in prayer. The sunshine had died away. The dusty window was colorless. Only the red lamp glowed dully above her head. X seemed to seo what the end would he. Thou I pushed aside tho curtain and slipped out into the keen air. It was hers to pray., It was mine to act. I lost no time, but cn my return I could not find Master Bertie either in tho public room or In the inn yard, so I sought him iir his bedroom, where I found him placid¬ ly reading a book, his patient waiting in striking contrast with the feverish anxiety which had taken hold of me. "What is it, lad?” ho said, closing tho volumo and laying it down on my entrance, “You look disturbed.” "I liavo seen Mistress Anne,” I an¬ swered. Ho whistled softly, staring at me without a word. ‘‘She knows all,” I continued. “How much is all?” he asked after a pause. “Our names—all our names—Penrud docko’s, Kingston’s, tho others—our meet¬ ing place, and that wo hold Clarence a prisoner. Slio was that old woman whom wo saw at tho Gatehouse tavern last night. ” lie nodded, appearing neither greatly surprised nor greatly alarmed. "Does she intend to use her knowledge?” he said. "I supposo she does.” "Unless wo let him go safo and unhurt beforo sunset.” "They will never consent to it,” ho an¬ swered, shaking his head. “Then they will hang!” I cried. Ho looked hard at mo a moment, dis¬ cerning something strango in tho bitter¬ ness of my last words. “ComB, lad,” bo said, “you liavo not told mo all. What elso have you learned?” “How can I tell you?” I cried wildly, waving him off and going to tho lattice that my face might bo hidden from him. "Heaven has cursed me!” I added, my voice breaking. Ho came and laid his hand on my shoul¬ der. “Heaven curses tro ono,” he said. “Most of cur curses wo make for our¬ selves. What is it, lad?” I covered my faco with my hands. —ho is my father,” I muttered. “Do you understand? Do you seo what I have done? He is my father!” “Hal" Master Bertie uttered that one exclamation in iutenso astonishment. Then he said no more. But tho pressure of his hand told me that he understood; that ha felt with me; that he would help me. And that silent comprehension, that silent assurance, gavo tho sweetest com¬ fort. “Ho must he allowed to go, then ■ for this tinio,” ho resumed gravely, after a pause, in which I had hnu time to re¬ cover myself, “We will seo to It. But there will be difficulties. You must bo strong and brave. The truth must be told. It is the only way." I saw that it was, though I shrank ex¬ ceedingly from the ordeal before me. Master Bertie advised, when I grew moro cuhn, that we should bo the first at tho rendezvous, lest by some chanco Penrud clocke’s orders should ho anticipated, and accordingly, soon after 8 o’clock, we mounted and 6et furth. 1 remarked that my companion looked very carefully to his arms, and taking tho hint I followed his example. anxious It was a silent, melancholy, rido. However successful we might bo in rescuing my father—alas, that I should havo today and always to call that man father!—1 could not escape the future be¬ fore me. I had felt shame whilo ho was but a name to me. How could I endure to live, with his infamy always beforo my eyes? Petronilla, of whom I had been thinking so much since X returned to Eng¬ land, whose knot of velvet had never left my breast nor her gentlo faco my heart— how could I go hack to her now? 1 had thought my father dead and his name and fame old tales. But the years of foreign life which yesterday had seemed a sufli Mid ijv v li I > ' i ! ! . L lllil I 14 H. fVi ^ -"* v V’-*. -P • “Then -M " are Snaniards, '• 1 ’ I 1 fancy." J “ cicnt barrier . between lus past and mj so ,, —of what use were they now, or the for eign service I had fondly regarded as a kind of purification? reverie Master Bertie broke in oil my much as if hR he had nau followed loiioweo its us course. course. “Understand one thing, lad/ he said, lay Ing his hand on the withers of my hnr.-o. “Yours must not bo the band to punish your father. But. after today you will owe him no dutv You will part from him to day, and be will be a stranger to you. He deserted Toff you when you were a child, and H PiVC reverence f o any one it is to felt yeur onele and not to him. Ho has him severed the ties between you.” “Yes ” I said. ‘Twill go abroad. I will go back to Wilna.” “If ill comas of our enterprise, as } fear ill wiil come, we will both go back, if we can,” he answered. "If good by any chance should come of it, then vou shall be my brother our family shall’he ronr “ounger TC f t jf aSu o‘’ado w® you ^S“sTr bra her’s portion ] ’’ bin, as I desired, for Ja^Tb^ine'l“s^rivinvtTv^1n ^riemdwforwarfin the courtyard, , tho v ea r the urincipul door of thc inn stood pioht ^ihe or ripe horses th^ cavlv cacarisoneu an'I chargc of foreign looking P rt ’ sli; 3 !l jrrg rronr cane rjn.TTit' rrr,qt turned as we rode in and looked at us copiously, hut not with any impertinence. Apparently they were waiting for tiio rest of their party, who were inside the house. Civilly disposed ;-.s they seemed, the fact that they were armed and wore rich liv¬ eries of black and gold caused me, and I think both of us, a momentary alarm. "Who are they?" Master Bertie asked in a low voice as he rode to tho opposite door and dismounted with ids hack to them. "They are Spaniards, I fancy,” I said, scanning them over tho shoulders of any horse ns I, too, got off. "Old friends, so to speak.” ‘‘They seem wonderfully subdued for them, ” he answered, “and on their best behavior. If half tho tales wo hoard this morning bo true, they aro not wont to carry themselves like this.” Yet they certainly wero Spanish, for I overheard them speaking to one another in that language, and beforo wo had well dismounted their leader—whom they re¬ ceived with great respect, ono of them jumping down to hold his stirrup—canto out with thico or four more and got to horse again. Turning his rein to lead tho way out through tho north gate, lie passed near us, and as ho settled himself in his saddle took a good look at us. Tito look passed harmlessly over mo, hut reaching Master Bertio became concentrated. Tho rider started and smiled faintly. He scented to pause. Then ho raised his plumed cap and bowed low, covered him¬ self again and redo on. His train all fol¬ lowed his cxamplo and saluted us as they passed. Master Bertie’s face, which had flushed a fiery red under tho other's gaze, grew pale, again. lie looked at me, when they had got'.o hy, with startled eyes. "Do you know who that was?” ho said, speaking like one who bad received a blow and did not yet know how much ho was Perk "No,” I said. “It was the Count do Foria, tho Span ish embassador,” bo answered. “And bo recognized mo. I met him often years ago. I knew him again as soon a? ho camo out, but I did not think ho would hy any chance recognize me in this dress.” “Aro you sure,” 1 asked in amazement, ‘‘that it was he?” ‘‘Quito sure,” ho answered. "But why did ho n it have you arrested or at least detained? T he warrants aro still out against you.” Master Bertie shook ids head. "I can¬ not tell, ” he said darkly. "Ho is a Span¬ iard. . But come, we have the less time to lose. We must join our friends and take their advice. Wo sootn tu he surrounded by pitfalls.” At this moment tho lamo hostler came Op, and grumbling at us as if lie had never seen us in his life before, and never wished to seo us again, took our horses. We went into the kitchen, and taking the first chance of slipping up stairs to No. 15 wo wore admitted with tho same precau¬ tions as before, and descending the shaft gained the cellar. Hero we were not, as wo had looked to be, tho first on the scene. I suppose a sense of the, insecurity of our meeting place had led every one to come early, so as to be gono early. Penruddoeko Indeed was not hero yet, but Kingston and half a score of others were sitting about convers¬ ing in low tones. It was plain that the distrust and suspicion which wo had re¬ marked on the previous ffay had not been allayed by the discovery of Clarence’s treachery. Indeed it was clear despondency had today become a panic. Men glared at one another and at the door and talked in whispers and started at tho slightest sound. I glanced round. Tho one 1 sought for with eager yet shrinking eyes was not to bo seen. I turned to Mas¬ ter Bertio, my faco mutely calling on him to ask the question. “Where is the pris¬ oner?” he said sharply. Then A moment I hung in suspense, one of the pten said: “Ho is in there. He is safe enough!” Ho pointed as ho spoke to a door which seemed to lead to an inner cellar. tag. “I have two pieces of bad news for you nevertheless. Firstly, I havo just been recognized by the Spanish embassador, whom I met in tho courtyard above.” Half tho men rose to their feet, '’■What is he doing here?” they cried, one boldly, V' 1 , , jpe I cannot north read." They gazed at one another and wo at them. Tho wolfish look which tear brings into some faces grew stronger in theirs. "What is your other had nows?” said Kingston, with an oath. “A person outside, a friend of the pris¬ oner, has a list of pup names and knows meeting place and our plans. Sho tlircatens to use the knowledge unless the man Clarence or Cxewdson be set free.” There was a which loud murmur, Kingston pi wath alone and dismay amid 5 .re served bis' flomposuro. *‘We might havo been prepared for that,” he said quiotly. .. Tt nwcntlnn of snrli folk ' But ‘ o' r ”' ’ how'did you oome come to t-o hear hear of ! t My be hear! the terms. Xhe man must set froo by sunseu. “And what warranty have we that be will not go str.u ht s?,th Ins plans aud his list v o the council, Master Bertio could not answer that, neither could I. We had no surety, and if wo set him free could take none save his word. His wqr;U Gauld even I ask then, to accept that? To stake tho life of the meanest of them on It? I saw tho difficulties of thc position, and when Master Kingston pronounced that this was a wasfe o* time, and that the fifily wise course was to dispose of the principal witness, both in the interests of justice and our own safety, and then shift ourselves before the storm looke, 4 ae knowledged Jq nty heart the wisdom of .go esters, H would “’The risk is about the nm cither war, ’ ’ Master Bertie said, objected, “.Not at all," Kingston a spar bLuntwartcV'him" Tonlgl^St'was i?U turn, and the (lark, lowerin* tanksol these round him showed that numbers were with him. “This fellow can hang us all. His accomplice who escapes cap know V dTiC! «rr-trr'cu-rri rv-.-t--—^ , no. Let us east lots who shall do it, get it done quickly and ho gone.” “Wo must wait at least/’ Bertio urged, “until Sir Thomas comes. ” “No!” retorted Kingston, with heat. “We aro all equal here. Besides the man was condemned yesterday with the full assent oi all. It only remains to carry out the sentence. Surely this gentleman,” he continued, turning suddenly upon me, “who was so ready to accuse him yester day, docs not wish him spared today.” “i do wish it,” I said in a low tono. “Ho! ho!” ho cried, folding his arms and throwing back his head, astonished at the success of his own question. “Tlien may wo ask for your reasons, sir? Last night you couid not lay your tongue t>o words too bad for him. Tonight you wish to spare him and let him go.” “I do,” I said. I felt that overy cyo was upon mo and that, Master Bertie except ed, not one there would feel sympathy with me In mv humiliation. They were driven to tho wall. They had no time for iino feeling, for sympathy, for apprecia tion of tho tragic, unless it touched them selves. What ehauco had I with them, though I was a sou pleading for a father? ISa.v, what argument had I savo that I was his son, and that I had brought him to tills.' No argument. Only the appeal to them that they would not make me a parricide! And I felt that at this they would mock. And so, In view of those stern, curious faces, a new temptation seized me—tho temptation to Ho silent. Why should I not stand by and lot things tako their courso? Wiiy should I not spare myself the shame which I already saw would ho fruitless? Win# Master Kingston with a cynical how, said, “Your reasons, sir,” I stood mute and trembling. If I kept si leitce, if I refused to givo my reasons, if I did not acknowledge tho prisoner, but merely begged his life, ho would die, and the connection between us would bo known to one or two. I should he freed from him and might go my own way. Tho sins of Ferdinand Cluddo wore well nigh forgotten, Why take to myself tho sins of Ciarenco, which would other¬ wise never stain my name, would never ho associated with my father or myself? Why, indeed? It was a great and soro temptation as I stood them beforo all tlioso eyes. He had deserved death. I had given.him up in perfect innoconce. Had 1 any right to call on them to risk their lives that I might go harmless in con¬ science, and ho in person? Had I— What! Was there, after all, some taint in my blood? Was I going to become liko him—to tako to myself a shame of my own earning in the effort to escape front the burden of his ill fame? 1 remembered in time the oath I had sworn, and when Kingston repeated hisquestion I answered him quickly. "I did not know yesterday who he was,” I said. “I have discovered since that ho is my father. 1 ask nothing on his account. Wero ho only my father 1 would not plead for him. I plead for my¬ self,” I murmured. "If you show uo pity, you make mo a pnrrlcido." I had done them wrong. There was something in my voice, I suppose, as 1 said the words which cost me so much, which wrought with almost all of them in a degree. They gazed at me with awed, wondering faces and murmured, “His fa¬ ther!” in low tones. They wero recalling tho scene of last night, the moment when I had denounced him, tho curse ho had hurled at me, the half told story of which that had seemed the climax. I had wronged them. They did seo the tragedy of it. « “l r os; they pitied me, but they showed plainly that they would still do what per¬ haps I should have done in their place— justice. "Ho knows too much!” said one. “Qur lives aro as good as his, ” muttered another, tho first to becomo thoroughly himself again. "Why should we all die for him?” Tho wolfish glaro came back fast to their eyes. They handled their weapons impatiently. They were longing to he away. At this moment, when 1 saw I had indeed made my confession in vain, AIi\ster Bertie struck in. "What,” ho of him. i£ and, faster escorting Carey and him I to take ins charge agen without, be answera.de ror‘both of them,’ “Yon would bo only putting your necks Into the noose!” said Kingston. We will risk tha-. replied my friend, promise yon that if he refuse to r<> “I" •’« through with my own hand. Will not that satisfy yon?” “No," Master Kingston retorted; “it will not! A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush!” “But the woman outside?” said one timidly. We must . run that ...... risk, quoth lie. „ *‘ Cprqe, In an the ^ cur lot must two wo be shall drawn, be in lor hiding. this gentleman 1st him stand aside.’ 1 leaned against tho wall, daze, and horror stricken. Now that i had identi fled myself with him I felt a great long ing L> save him. I scarcely noticed group drawing pieces of paper at tho ea t) , (! My every thought was taken up with low door over there \ and the wretched man , ing n thc darkneS s behind “■ ” l must ho thc horror ’ the 77 black ' despair, the bate and defiance of . bis mind ^ Jay thenjj trapped aC te st like any beast of °‘, nrev? prL -' It was > S boj-rible' ' horrible! uorrime, I covered my face and could not restrain the cry of unutterable d,stress which ro^ to my bps. They looked round, two or three of them, front the table. But the impression my appeal bad made upon ouly th< ; m s.,rugged 1 1)ml fade f their T va shouldersand. ^ a !* endy ’ a ' K turned ! * hCj , again to their task. Master Bertie alone stood apar,, Ws avms foided, his faco grave ‘• ark - Me, too had abandoned bopK There seemed no hope, when vaddenly there came a knocking ihe door. The Based at thoir nojghbora It was a knock «»* 'J !ore h *** »»P*T*1*? than thc G of Sir relief Thon.as lie ” ,s ho in sug^sfld. a hum and with bnngs a sigh news. I kno* |u* fcwock. ( Mon- | himself " '.isrer opened Hertio the anticipated door the man and and admitted thci j knocker. Penruddoeko it was. lie oaimi in, still drumming ^ on the door with his ^* s *’ his ( -'. vtJS sparkling, his ruddy checks syh.nv. He crossed the threshold with a swagger, and looking at us all hurst into a strange peal oi laughter, ‘\oick.-d Gone co tiarth! ho shouted, waving his hand as 1C he had a "’hip in it. ‘'Gone to earth— K 0I1G forever! Did you tliink it was the *°rds of tho council, my lads?” Ho had lc ffc tho dow wide open behind him, and wo now saw in the doorway the too faring man who usually guarded tho room above. “What docs this mean, Sir Thomas?” Kingston said sternly. He thought, I fancy, as many of us did, that ^ho knight was drunk. “Have you given that man permission to leave his post?” op °st? There ore no more posts,” cried Sir Thomas, with a strango jollity. Ho certainly was drunk, but perhaps not with liquor. Lxcept good fat posts, ” he con tinned, smacking Master Bertie on the shoulder, “for loyal men who have done tho state servico and risked their lives in evil times! J’osts? I shall get so drunk 1°“/ win aoc flow me ’“w'" tip. P ° n Ijlulgu “° lou sceln tn liavo Reno far that way already, ” my friend said coldly. “So will you when you hear tho nows! ’ Penruddoeko replied, inore soberly. "Lads, the is Jl ! 11,0 V 1 ' 11 ?* ' 1 r ‘ ,0In / lls statement was lccl v< r^ silence, a silence dictated by no feeling , for the woman going before her Maker-how should we who were against her feel for her, we who were for tho most part homeless and proscribed through her?—but tho silence of men in doubt, in doubt whether this might mean all that from Sir Thomas’aspect it seemed to mean. ‘‘She cannot livo a week!” Ponruddocko continued. ‘‘Tho doctors liavo given up hope, and at the palace, all is in confusion. tSho has named tho Princess Elizabeth her successor, and even now Cecil is drawing up file proclamations. To show that the gamo is really up tho Count do Korin, tho .Spanish embassador, has gone this very (lay to Hatfield to pay his respects to tho coming queen.” Then indeed tho vaulted roof did ring— ring and ring again with shouts of "the coming queen!” Mon over whom tho wings of death had seemed a minute ago to bo hovering, darkening nil things to them, looked up and saw tho sun. "Tho coming ‘‘You queen!” they cried. need fear nothing!” continued Penruddoeko wildly. "No one will daro to execute tho warrants. Tho bishops aro .shaking In their miters. Polo is said to bo dying. Ilonncr is moro likely to hang himself than burn others. Up and out and play the man! Away to your counties and get ready your tar barrels! Now wo will givo them a taste of theCujus llegiul Ho, drawer, there! A cup ol ale!” He turned, and shouting a scrap of a song swaggered hack into tho shaft and began to ascer.d. They all trooped after him, talking and laughing, a reckless, good natnred crew, looking to a man as if they had never known fear or Bullishness —as if distrust were a thing impossible to them. Master Kingston alone, whom his lossos had soured and who still brooded over his revenge, went off moodily. I was for stopping (me of thorn, hut Master Bertie directed my eyes by a ges¬ ture of his hand to the door at the far end of tho cellar, and I saw that the key was in the lock- Ho wrung my hand hard. “Tell him all,” ho muttered. "X will wait above.’ 1 [to be continued.} When Baby was sick, we gavo her Castoria. When she was a Child, sho cried for Cast oria. When sho became Miss, she clung to Castorta. When, she had Children, sho gave them Castorta THOSE BALL GAMES. The Lawrehe-ville Ball learn pliyed *o„ „« w«Mtf.« Thursday agautst, a team made up of Hip l>eat members of tlip O, feated in both game 3 . J lie Conyers team cha 1 longed our home boys aud when they accepted they expected to play , against that club, and not with a picked nine from the several towns along tho Georgia railroad. It is gen eraliy ,, understood , , that , , the , Lonyer? peo !e > j( j t ;, e hired pitcher who tossed tbo sphere for hem W- per daj for the games. 1 he relative strength ol t j, e two teams is still an unknown quan t i tv.—La \v re nee v i lie News. The “green-eyed monster” lias evidently . _ . been , at Work , Upon the ir$7nrin5TrirB~inrvTprtttnrinrinnnnrif7nfTnnns~si5irir I —Ta 9 o o :■ w4 H—A* a o o ^ C \ ’ i Rifles 3 a £ g Our Model 1893 Shot-Gun is now used i by all thc most advanced trap Shot-Guns and game shooters. Single Shot-Rifles « ASS YOUR DEALER TO SHOW YOU THIS GUN. a Evening that is Newest and Best in Repeating Arms as well « all « kinds of AnunamUon ate made by the Q y 3 WINCHESTER REPEATING ARMS CO., Winchester Ave., New Haven, Conn. ®, «r .Semi a Pofttal Card w Hh yoar aildrew for our 112>p»xe Illustrated (J*taLgue. o) NO. 31 j RL! : w ,; -. K 1 i. A 1 >A 1 ^SIMMONS .. Wm REGULATO R Are you taking Simmons Liver Ueg ULATOlt, tho “Kino of Liver Medi ciNES?” That is what our readers W ant, an,} nothing but that. It is the same old friend to which tho old folks Pinned their fimh and were never Al dts- „ appointed. But another good recom menuation for it is, ihat it is better than Pills, never gripes, never weak ons, but works in such an easy and natural way, just like nature itself, that r0 |j c f comes quick and sure, and one „__, 018 . " e ' v a11 ? v f; fa ... * la ‘ everybody needs take a liver remedy, and everyone should tako only Sim tuons Liver Regulator, Bo sure you get it. The Ilcrt Z is on the wrapper. J. II. Zcilin & Co., Philadelphia. News since our boys made mon¬ keys of llie Lawrencevillo ball club. Tho Conyers boys had on¬ ly ono player who doesn’t belong to the chib, and who hasn’t played with the team regularly duriug the season. This player was tho pitcher, who, tho News informs us was paid $25 a day to “toss the sphere,” which is news, indeed, to tho Conyers boy#. Whilo speaking of Con¬ yers having a picked team tho News evidently doesn't remem¬ ber the adage about ‘‘people who livo in glass houses, etc,” and forgets that the Lawrence ville club bad players from At¬ lanta, Kirkwood and Lithonia. Tbo relative strength of the two teams is no longer an un know quantity here, and we tire surprised to learn that the Law¬ rencevillo people haven’t yet learned that the Conyers club defeated their baseballists. Children Cry for Pitcher’s Castorie* W. S3 L Douglas SHOE riT 13 THE FOR AKINft. BEST. ffi O. CORDOVAN, sV CRCNCH& ENAMEUA0 CALF. W? m :«4.*3.5 *3.6? n FllffCAlf POLICE,3 IKAMMOa ip SOLES. I % rJjSfcJ teJig Boys School Shoes. -LAPIE3 i W: Over One Million People wear the W. L. Douglas $3 & $4 Shoes AII our shoes are equally satisfactory They {jive the best value for the money* They equ«J custom shoes fn unsurpassed. style and fit. Their wearing uniform,—pfnmpeq qualities are sold. The From prices $i are 53 saved other makes. on to over If your dealer cannot supply you we can. fcold of An agent wanted; as soon as one is •jecure ! th-* r ane will appear heie. PHiLOTOKEM S. Woiixtii h ftn4 U-iil.itio Kilend. H-liere# mrtntblf cuir« uei voutBe.a him! iiyat'-ii. «ud retturri to porf.ct hr.ltii. Sol4 by dt urgUts .ud for fi It* » bottle, Pmrm yttlet mailed on application. If you can’t get $!*♦, **ucl |l to tbe j>roprletor and he will hm to ,•>« Coi^ pr# fh-M hy e*|»re«a. Charles V. Elaley, WLoleaale t»rtt*£i§t, 63 lato'ltHt . New York. SEPIA TT1I1 reatore Gray Bah and Whhtkara to • brow* or black in a le w taioc’.es $1 . .Oil,,. 1
