The Summerville news. (Summerville, Chattooga County, Ga.) 1896-current, November 11, 1896, Image 3
Woman’s Page.
CONDUCTED BY EDNA CAIN.
Slumber Song.
Slumber, slumber, little one. now
The bird is asleep in his nest on the
bough;
The bird is asleep, he has folded his
wings,
And o’er him softly the dream-fairy
sings:
Lullaby, lullaby—lullaby!
Pearls in the deep—
Stars in the sky,
Dreams in bur sleep;
So, lullaby!
Slumber, slumber, little one. soon
The fairy will come in the ship of the
moon;
The fairy will come with the pearls
and the stars.
And dreams will come singing through
the shadowy bars;
Lullaby, lullaby—lullaby'.
« Pearls in the deep—
Stars in the deep—
Dreams in our sleep;
So, lullaby!
Slumber, slumber, little one, so;
The stars are the pearls that the dream
fairies know,
The stars are the pearls, and the bird
in the nest,
A dear little fellow the fairies love
best;
Lullaby, lullaby—lullaby!
Pearls in the deep—
Stars in the deep—
Dreams in our sleep;
So, lullaby.
—Frank Dempster Sherman.
“MAYBE A SERMON—
MAYBE A SONG.”
Not long ago as I sat in pensive
mood something in the air. in the way
the woods looked, in the autumn sun
shine, brought a rush of memories of
childhoad days. Those days seem
like an unreal dream after we have
passed on into the estate of manhood
and womanhood.
What simple joys and griefs we had
then. Little things made us happy,
and our bitterest hoartaches were
about dismantled playhouses, or the
betb-vcd rag doll torn to pieces by a
mischievous dog. We smile at those
things now, they seem so petty. But
even now we are only’ children of a
larger growth. Our rag babies are
flesh and blood, and our playhouses
are builded of the hopes of years; that
is the difference.
When old age comes 1 wonder if the
wisdom and weariness of our years
will condemn the things we now strive
for. as we today tenderly condemn our
foolish childhood notions. We cannot
look backward upon the yesterdays of
our lives without a feeling of infinite
compassion for the struggles of our
crude spirits against the pricks which
Fortune ever deals to young illusions.
But we strive today as we did form
erly; we have only passed the old
landmarks and gone further along in
the avenues of change. We are only
the heirs of our dead selves of yester
day; we wake up today with a wider
scope of vision and a larger inheritance
of transmitted purpose. But as we
look back upon our dead selves of yes
terday we are tempted to exclaim, as
did the man in Kipling’s story:
“Lord ha’ mercy on my soul.
This is none of I!”
When a big election goes our way,
or a human wave floods a country and
upsets moss grown and plutocratic in
stitutions, we are wont to exclaim.
“Vox populi, vox Dei!’’ But 1 am
not so sure alway s about the voice of
the people being the voice of God. At
any rate it is God speaking in com
mon place way. I say it not irrever
ently; you and I are moved by the di
vine spark within us—the animus of
all creation—and we are often necessa
rily commonplace. But there is an
other voice of God, one that is heard
when He communes with Himself in
the silence of the night and the soli
tudes of nature.
There is a solemn chant in the roar
of the cataract; a mighty rhythm man
ifest to those who have ears to hear.
And no lullaby ever sung by human
lips possesses the drowsy measure
heard in the patter of the rain on the
roof, or its uncertain, sweet drip-drop
from the leaves and from the boughs of
the oaks. Its soft minor melody lures
one Lethewards until sleep and forget
fulness seem the richest gifts fate
holds in fee for us.
One wonders if in that time that lies
; veiled in the future, when one shal
i sleep beneath the sod instead of the
| old homestead roof that has hitherto
sheltered one’s dreams, and the rain
comes down through the trees, will
the old drip-drop sound be heard
soothing one into forgetfulness of the
damp and chill? An idle vagary, is it
not—but it is hard to realize that this
clay part of us shall be so drained of
the life that thrills and burns through
every grain of it, that it shall become
a clod, insensible alike to the soft re
quiem of the rain drops, or to their
creeping damp.
One night in early autumn as I sat
idly dreaming and reading, a wind
came, the first scouting advance of
winter,and began toplay with the oak
grove outside. The wind was in a
mood for music and the trees accommo
datingly turned themselves into wind
harps. And a fine orchestra they
made, too, seeing that music is not in
their line and they principally occupy
themselves with growing leaves to
shelter cows and people in the summer
and furnish warm beds for pigs in win
ter.
Each tree stood up stiffly against the
gray sky, and the wind like a wild
eyed spirit with flaming hair, hung off
and regarded them moodily for a space
and then fell upon them savagely and
they leaned back and shouted in uni
son. And as they roared and clashed,
so all the little leaves whispered and
swished, keeping perfect time iu a mi
nor melody. I thought it perfect but
the wind did not seem -satisfied and
began rag’ng at them and they sobbed
and shivered. Then all was silent un
til presently one tree far down in the
corner began chanting in murmurous
grief that summer was dead, dead,
dead. Then the others took up the
chant and tossed it back aud forth, up
and town, aud roared it and whispered
it until they had run all the gamut of
grief. Then they began something
about their dear little children, the
leaves, being taken to make a grand
funeral procession for the dead sum
mer. They threw their whole souls
into this and wept and swayed in
mighty chorus.
Then a solemn joy came in the eyes
of that wild spirit of the wind. He
had at last touched their very heart fi
bre and this was their response. They
were no longer afraid of him or of
making a mistake in their parts. They
sang what they knew about the sorrow
and pity of death. They had furnished
funeral processions for unnumbered
summers of the past; they felt them
selves full of hoary wisdom and life
was a sad thing. So they moaned and
wept.
And listening, a spirit of savage ten
derness came over the wind and he
took them in his arms and rocked them
to and fro, whispering to them of the
spring that would come by and by; of
the new sap and bursting buds. Then
a note of triumphant hope swelled in
their orchestral voice; they were com
forted. And the wind, who was weary
of his play left them then, content that
it was so.
I
But after he was gone I heard a
long shivering sigh and knew that the
trees were thinking of their poor little
leaves drifting to the unknown.
And I sighed, too; for the autumn
wind makes a harp of human heart
strings, sometimes, and after a sum
mer is done there are leaves from the
trees of life that are grown brown and
sear and are drifting away. Is it not
so. mon ami?
There is a certain charming and
well known woman in this end of the
state who possesses quantities of de
lightfully original opinions and a cer
tain amount of frank daring in her ex
pression of them. The other day she
encountered a populist acquaintance
of hers and they began talking of pol
itics. Presently Mr. Populist asked
her what views she entertained in re
gard to the financial question. “Well."
responded Mrs. Naivete, ••my views
are uncertain." He nodded as if to
say one couldn't expect much else of a
woman, and she went on with a confi
dential air: “When I have plenty of
silver lam a free silver democrat;
when my worldly wealth consists of
gold onlv, I am a goldbug, and when
I haven't any money at all I am mere
ly a darn Populist."
Miss Nell King, accompanied by her
brother. Edgar, came over from Kar
tah Monday.
Women as Librarians,
A bill to make women eligible
as State Librarians is to come be
fore the legislature this week, and
its fate depends upon the action of
that body. Our state solons will
say whether or not, in their opin
ion, our Georgia women are capa
ble of filling this position accepta
bly. Women of other states have
already demonstrated their fitness
for the duties of librarian, and our
Georgia meq, always first in gal-|
lantry and fairness toward their
women, will hardly refuse the
working women of Georgia this
post- The very fact that our wo- j
men are dependent upon their
generosity and justice for aid along
such lines will act in favor of this
bill.
Nearly every 7 state in the south
has given this post to women and
they have performed its duties in
away creditable to themselves and
satisfactory to the state. The
south is conservative and this is
an admission that women can act
in this capacity without any loss i
of womanly dignity or grace.
Even in this same conservative
south women have been compelled
by the slings and arrows of outra
geous fortune to take up agricul
tural arms against a sea of troubles
and wrest a livelihood from the
fields. A story is told of a Georgia
girl who was obliged to do this.
With her sisters she did all of the
manual labor on a small farm.
She was possessed of splendid
mental qualities and this fact was
discovered by some people who
assisted her in educating herself
and developing the powers she
had. This is a true history.
There are others.
It must be painful to men to
think of women performing labor
for which they are so eminently
unsuited, and it is rather strange
that nothing has been said about
their usurpation of masculine pre
rogatives in this instance.
However, after woman has shown
her versatility in the stress of ne
cessity, by tilling the fields, it is
hardly likely that the present
assembly of lawmakers, among
whom the working woman has
splendid and true friends, will de
bar her from other fields in which
she will perhaps appear to better
advantage.
TRION NEWS.
Mrs. Dedman, who has been sick
for some time, died Tuesday morn
ing, Nov. 3rd: was buried Thurs
day morning at the cemetery,
Rev. W. L. Shattuck conducting
the services. Mrs. Dedman was
56 years old, a good Christian wo
man, a consistent member of the
Baptist church, loved by all who
knew her. She leaves a husband
and nine children to mourn her
loss. May God give them grace to
say, ‘‘Thy will be done.”
Mr. John Buckalew died Wed
nesday morning, Nov. 4. The fu
neral services were held at the
Baptist church Thursday afternoon
conducted by Rev. J. F. Davis, was
buried at the cemetery with Ma
sonic honors. Mr. Buckalew was
45 years, 6 months, and 14 days
old at the time of his death, has
been a consistent member of the
Baptist church since his 19th year,
was truly a good man, loved and
respected by all who knew him.
The bereaved ones have the sym
pathy of their many friends.
Mr. Berry Oglesby, of Menlo,
spent Saturday at Trion.
Miss Effie Espy is spending this
week at Summerville the guest of
G. D. Espy.
Mr. and Mrs. Pierce Hall spent
Sunday at Chattanooga.
Mr. B. Smallwood and family
leave this week for Rome where
they will make their future home.
Mrs. C. D. Hill continues quite
sick. Dr. Henry Battey, of Rome,
was attending her last Friday.
mt. and Mrs. G. D. Espy spent
Sunday at Trion.
Misses Joe Mattox and Mollie
Rich visited Trion Sunday after
noon.
Goou quality Wool Knitting Thread
in all colors, and another big lot will
be in next week. Prices cheap.
Cleghorn & Henry.
LOCAL ITEMS.
Gathered Here and Yonder
For NEWS Readers.
Deputy Collector Brad Tatum was
in town Saturday on business.
The Summerville merchants had a
good trade Saturday.
C. C. Godwin will move to town soon
and will take charge of the jail.
Bring us iu some dry stove wood
quick.
1 will barter for nice feathers.
W. T. Newton.
Don't forget that the editor is need
ing that little amount you owe on sub
scription.
Mr. T. F. Maxey, of Trion, spent
Sunday in town with relatives and
friends.
Always in season. Hopkins’ Steamed
Hominy ( Hulled Corn). Elegant lunch
in Milk.
A splendid line of new and elegant
Dress Goods just received by
Thompson Hiles & Co.
Georgia Masons in session at Au
gusta passed a resolution to close the
doors of the order to all dealers in in
toxicating beverages.
Governor Atkinson’s message is
considered a far reaching document.
The governor recommends some radi
cal changes, especially in the criminal
laws of the state.
Our specialties—three distinct and
superior lines—Dress Goods, Clothing
and Shoes. You cannot afford to miss
either. Hollis & Hinton.
Mr. J. E. Farnsworth, the genial
and efficient travelling passenger agent
of the Iron Mountain and Texas Paci
fic railways spent last Saturday in town
on business.
You cannot afford to miss seeing our
stock of Fall and Winter millinery.
Our goods arc the latest and most sty
lish. Thompson Hiles & Co.
John Manning, who formerly car
ried the Summerville and Dirttown
mail, was suffering from a severe at
tack of mental oberration last week.
Ilis friends hope that he may be re
stored to his normal condition without
sending him to the asylum.
Men’s Hats, and Boys Hats, and La
dies’ Sailor Hats, and Ladies’ Walking
Hats, and Girls Caps, and Boys’ Caps,
and Ladies’ Hoods, and Children’s
Hoods, and cheap prices, all at
Cleghorn & Henry’s.
An elderly gentleman living in
Mid-Lancashire is noted for his
inebriety. On one occasion, when
he had been imbibing pretty freely
he was met, by the clergyman of
the parish in which he lived.
“Drunk again, John?” said the
paster.
“So am I! So am I!” replied
the truthful John, much to the a
mazement of his spiritual adviser.
—Spare Moments.
A New Idea.
With every Dress Pattern and trim
mings, costing $2.00 or more we will
give a pattern to make the dress by,
free. These patterns are as good as
the best, and are used by the best
dressmakers.
Thompson Hiles & Co.
MISS ADDIE LYNAM
Fashionable and Artistic
DRESSMAKER.
Parlors Over the Store of
HOLLIS & HINTONS.
“Why, M amie, aren’t you asham
ed of yourself?” exclaimed a San
Antonio mother, entertaining the
pastor and addressing her daugh
ter. “Your father has only been
dead three weeks, and here you are
playing on the piano.”
“He has been dead longer than
that, maw. He died on the second
so you see he has been dead four
weeks.”
“That's a fact,” said the mother.
“Go ahead and bang the stuffing
put of the piano. I declare my
memory is failing me." —Texas
Siftings.
Consumption
AND ITS
To the Editor : —I have an absolute
remedy for Consumption. By its timely use
thousands of hopeless cases have been already
permanently cured. So proof-positive am I
of its power that I consider it my duty to
send two bottles free to those of your readers
who have Consumption,Throat, Bronchial or
Lung Trouble, if they will write me their
express and postoffice address. Sincerely,
T. A. SLOCUM, M. C., 183 Peart St., Sew York.
>3“ The Editorial and Business Management of
tins Paper Guarantee this generous Proposition.
® s®-®!® Oh® ffiOMOiSiKOS jSsSSKOS®
!-m LOVEMAN’S. >1
1 •• i r |
i Finest Dressmaking in Soul i I
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Ji® Exquisite and Capes, j®
H Immense Carpet Department. X___ $
?® o ’ ®
■ ■ K
S f\ F,NE IB
5 DRESS GOODS,
$ JLX SILKS, RIBBONS,&
$ laces, gloves, &
| ' jllM S' CORSETS, ETC.|
B 4 SfW ? — o B
6 Si3S ad - •
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$ fW WftOCSS- STAMPED PIECES, &
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JM sk
yy Write for Catalogue. ge
| D. B. LOVEM/YN GO. |
» CHATTANOOGA, TENN. I®
at
WHEN IN ROME
Do As Romans Do
~ ’...' “ ~~~-'". 1 —:--■■»
—TRADE WITH”K
F. J. KANE & CO.
The Largest Stock of New Goods.
The Best Assorted Stock.
Many Things Away Under Price!
■ ■ ■ -
All Wool Filling Jeans 12 i=2C.
9 oz “ “ “ 16c
4=4 AAA Sheetings 4 and 4 i=2C
Best 27 in Cotton Plaids 5c
$1.50 Climax Shoes at only SI.OO
Turkey Red Prints 3 i=2C
Boys’ Knee Pants Suits 90c
Bed Blankets, only ’2oc
Mens’ Under Shirts 15c
Ladies’ Winter Vests 10c
These are a few of our prices and it will pay you to
look here before you buy. Come to Rome, .goods
cheaper than ever before, flake our place your head
quarters. We want to see you,
F. J. KANE & CO.,
248 Broad Street, Rome, Ga.
T. W. GH7¥STA-IN,
DEALER IN 35-
FURNITURE
Summerville, Ga.
o
Nice Chamber Suits Sio, Sls, S2O, and up.
When in need of anything in my line give me acall.