Newspaper Page Text
Woman’s Page.
FROM HER POINT
OF VIEW.
When warn, summer days come
the streets are full of hurrying
throngs, and when blizzards come
life goes on just the same—only it
is different. The throngs are there,
but there is little buoyance or
pleasure in them. They are there
because they must be; and the 1
men hurry along as if anxious to
reach the warm and placid harbor
by the fireside. And one pities
the poor wretch who has no fireside
and no harbor, whose derelict bark
is driven to and fro aimlessly on
the currents of the streets. There
are such derelicts, you know, al
ways; but when one is warmly
wrapped and has the prospect of a
good dinner there is semething
of ghastly beauty in the
blizzardy twilight which settles
d >wn over the city.
The air seems frozen and sounds
are deadened; the winds sweep
through the streets like loosened
demons and lie in wait around
corners for the hapless wayfarers.
Just at this hour dozens of shop
girls—strong, brave little souls—
are going home from work, plod
ding along the middle of the street
avoid slippery sidewalks, their fig
ures show strongly beneath the arc
light on the corner, and then they
fade into the gray mist and are
gone. The shop windows are blur
red with golden light and patches
of bright color, and the blue —
white radiance of the electric light
> flashes on the wet pavement. Men
hurry by, looking pinched and
shrunken with the cold, and their
watery eyes and drawn faces show
spectrally through the circling
mist of their breath. Other men
come who show little sign of pov
erty, who are well groomed and
well fed. But who shall know
what bleak winter of discontent
may have fallen upon their inner
lives and iced over the genial cur
rent of their ambitions, and nipped
with frost the tender buds of hope?
For it is sadly true that the miser
able and unhappy are not always
those who lack for clothes and
bread; and the millionaire who
stops to toss a ccin to the unfortu
nate of the streets may be the
greater beggar of the two.
There comes a woman, too; a
storm-driven-bird, with feathers
frayed and soiled. She hurries
aloug, grazing into the faces of the
passersby with a look half-bold,
half-frightened. Her lips, for all
their reckless smile, are blue with
cold, and she looks like a hunted
animal. At the corner she pauses
for a moment and gazes irresolute
ly back toward the lighted street;
a wild gust of wind sweeps upon
and she is gone into the gloom.
Nobody but God knows about her.
and she is quite sure He doesn’t
care.
Later in the evening and down
in the main thoroughfare of the
slum district, there is a turbulent
spirit of rum and recklessness
seething in the low-browed, smoky
houses. It is all ugly and sugges
tive of the sordid beastliness of
life. There are human beings who
come out of those saloons and
stagger along, looking numbed and
helpless, like flies when the first
cold days come. They have been
forgetting their troubles after the
manner befitting their station;
they are not refined or elegant,
because they did not happen to be
born rich or lucky.
On the other side, the avenue
stretches out like a long, gray rib
bon ; stately, shadowy houses bor
der it, and here and there in their
dark mass is a gleam of rosy light.
In one a drawn curtain shows the
warmly-tinted interior; there is a
table with snowy linen and a bowl
of crimson roses on it. A man in
evening dress sits on one side hold
ing his wineglass up for the light
to turn the dainty, dangerous
’ drink into a blazing jewel. On
the other side is a woman clad in
a gown of shimmering satin. She
is watching the tawny gleam of
the light as it falls through the;
wine into the man’s eyes. Ontsid,e
is the muffled roll of a belated
carriage on the asphalt. And the
gray, wind swept sky is’over all.
On ths Slippery Streets.
In the morning the earth looks
like a Quaker maiden, all in gray
with a drifting of white snow. The
streets are coated with ice, which ac
counts for the strained look on the
faces of pedestrians, for nobody
iikes to fall, and while one may
have been in greater danger before,
it was never so palpable as now. A
rather stout woman comes up the
middle of a side street very nicely,
but when she strikes the asphalt
she begins to slip and stops. Pres
ently two small schoolboys with
shining morning faces, come along
and she appeals to them ; they gal
lantly respond and with their hands
to stay her, she proceeds gingerly
on her way.
On Capitol Avenue a young wo
man is tripping merrily down the
middle of the street, giving a tiny
little scream as she slips occasion
ally; but smiling and rosy, she is
evidently enjoying the novelty of
her danger. People look after her
as she proceeds on her smiling,slip
ping, screaming way, so sweet and
fair she is. A young man is com
ing up the street and just as they
are opposite each other, he steps
on a broad, slightly inclined stone,
and slips. He doesn’t fall, but he
can’t get oft the scone; but he must
needs put one foot down after the
other in rapid succession, and in
the same place, in order to stand
at all, and he can’t get off. The
girl has stopped, perfectly convuls
ed with laughter, and the young
man is fearfully embarrassed. Just
then a gust of wind gave the girl’s
skirts a twist and she sat down sud
denly. At sight of her expression
of pained surprise the young fellow
burst into a shout of laughter and
his figure, which was trembling in
the balance, went down with a
crash. And there they sat and
laughed and laughed, with their
toes touching.
Another girl with a flaring skirt
and cape, and a hat with coquet
tish plumes, had another adven
ture. She started around the cor
ner of thecapitol. This is the very
windiest place in the city and sud
denly her cape was turned into a
sail and she was slipping over the
icy walk, tacking gracefully before
the wind. But she was a ship sad
ly in need of a pilot, and in danger
of being dashed against the stone
walls es the capitol, and with the
realization of this fact came a
scream, and in answer to this dis
tress signal came a gallant hero
who took her in tow and steered
her to a place of safety. She blush
ed and smiled, when she saw he
was handsome, and said that it
seemed we couldn’t possibly get a
long without masculine guidance,
after all. And they had never seen
each other before, so you see bliz-°
zards level conventionalities as well
as people.
But there is a rift of blue sky
and great banks of rolling yellow
! clouds, and the sunlight turns the
trees, in their icy coats of mail, in
to crystal. The west turns slowly
to a blaze of saffron and amethyst
and through the sunset gates one
fancies there is a glimpse of the
skirts of spring, who is waiting be
hind the scenes there for her “cue”
to come on. So the day ends.
E. C.
P. S. Since writing the above the
; night has fallen, too. She slipped,
i on the ice like the others, and she
■ is still there, waiting for the sun to
I come and help her up, I presume.
E.C.
In Evening Constitution. •
Ripans Tabules cure constipation.
i What Sort of a Man a Woman
Likes,
She is usually pleased by a man
who has that most exquisite of all
enamels over the true gold of his
heart —good manners. She likes
a man who is considerate of her.
She likes a man who dresses
well, but she does not want him to
lot k like what he did wear was by
order of his tailor.
She does not like a man wlio is
effeminate.
She likes a manly hand, but it
must be one which is kept in good
order.
If a man is fortunate enough to
be able to sing well, talk well and
dance well, he will be that much
more popular, but it is more im
portant that he should know how
to control a horse, row a boat and
pitch a ball, since t,-ey are special
ly manly accomplishments.
A woman likes a man who doesn’t
talk about himself, but who does
talk about her.
She likes his respect, his rever
ence, his admiration.
The likes to think of him as a
good business man, able to win
his own way in the world, and
therefore, independent.
She likes to think that, if the
house catches fire, he’ll keep cool,
save her first, and then do n > end
of heroic deeds.
A.ll Women Love a Hero,
Nowadays, there is no fighting
in the ring, there is no chance of
a contest with a bull or a lion,
and so a man must win his spurs
in other ways. But a-woman does
adore a man who would be, she is
sure, under any circumstances, as
brave and as gallant as Chevalier
Bayard.
She doesn’t like a fool. A wo
man is so constituted that she of
ten adores a fool to annoy a hero.
It seems to her as if he ought to
be devilled with pin pricks. She
forgets that he might meet a tiger
without a quiver and be smothered
to death by a fly.
She likes a man who, in some
peculiar situation cannot only rise
superior to it, but. master it. In
deed, when she is a very real wo
man, she likes a man whocan mas
ter her.
She likes to win a man to her
way of thinking by feminine per
suasion ; she despises him when
she can order him about. Some
times she does this, and then she
is the mother of children who have
only fear for their mother and an
intense love, but no respect for
their father.
She likes a man who can b*y
her a railroad ticket without get
ting flurried over it as she does,
and who can mark on a railroad
timetable, just what the story of
the train means—a something that
to her is like a famous Greek rid
dle.
Well, I suppose, to sum it up,
one explains it best, when one says
that a woman likes a man who is
tender at heart and a bit ashamed
of it; loving in rea'ity and a bit
troubled about it; but with a na
ture of the purest gold, with a body
that is essentially masculine, wear
ing clothes that fit well, having
manners that are good and a heart
that in time becomes hers. That’s
the sort of man that would get a
medal, because he deserved it from
Bab.
One night last week some one
tried to steal some corn from a
Mr. Smith, who lives on Mr. Nat
Tabor’s farm on Cartecay. Mr.
Smith was away from home and
Mrs. Smith heard some one prizing
boards off the crib and she took
the gun and went on the porch and
fired at a man on top of the crib.
He hollowed and fell off the. crib
but by the time she reloaded the
gun he had made his escape. Con
siderable blood was sprinkled a
round the crib and premises and
the would be thief w as tracked for
i some distance. We glory in Mrs
j Smith’s bravery.—Ellijay Courier.
Don’t worry about your health .
: Keep your blood pure by taking
Hood's Sarsaparilla and you need
not fear the grip, colds, bronchitis
; pneupionia or typhoid fever.
A Good Man Gone to Rest.
On Jan. 28, Mr. James Alexan
der, an aged man of Dirttown val
ley’ passed to his eternal reward.
He had been in feeble health for
several years, and after a few weeks
struggle with the grip, finally suc
cumbed, his spirit passing to its
“sweet home.” While the transi
tion was not wholly unexpected to
friends and relatives, yet the sev
ering of all earthly ties and the
separation from loved ones is al
ways sad. The entire community
is grieved that the silver chord is
loosed and the golden bowl broken.
For quite a number of years Mr.
Alexander had lived in this valley,
and esteemed by ail as a faithful,
trusting Christian and a good and
holy men, he exerted a strong and
lasting influence for good. Though
he was deprived of sight and much
of the brightness and beauty of
the for many long years—
withid there was a pure radiance
streaming from the cross of Christ
and many’ times in his exhorta
tions and prayers in their behalf,
has this light sparkled forth, kind
ling in the hearts of the beloved
brethren new zeal and the desire
to live higher and nobler lives.
Thus “their works do follow them.”
He leaves a loving wife and. five
children whom he has reared “in
the nurture and admonition of the
Lord.” His encouraging and in
spiring presence will not only be
missed by these sorrowing ones,
but by a host of other friends, yet
we trust that all may forget per
sonal grief in the memory that
“Blessed are the dead which die in
the Lord that they may rest from
their labours” for “There the weary
be at rest.”
Thou shall come to the grave in
a full age like as ayshock of corn
ascendeth in his season.” N.
There is more Catarrh in this
section of the country’ than all
other diseases put together and un
til the last few years was supposed
to be incurable. For a great many
years doctors pronounced it a lo
cal disease, and prescribed local
remedies, and by constantly fail
ing to cure with local treatment,
pronounced it incurable. Science
has proven catarrh to be a consti
tutional disease, and therefore re
quires constitutional treatment.
Hall’s Catarrh Cure, manufactured
by F. J. Cheney & Co., Toledo.
Ohio, is the only constitutional
cure on the market It is taken
internally in doses from 10 drops
to a teaspoonful. It acts directly
on the blood and mucous surfaces
of the system. They offer one
hundred dollars for any case it
fails to cure. Send for circulars
and testimonials. Address,
F. J. Cheney & Co., Toledo, 0,
Sold by Druggists, 75c.
Hall’s Family Pills are the best
If we could trace Dyspepsia tc
its source it would lead back to
our kitchens. In fact, the secret
of good health is good cooking.
If well cooked, foods are partially
digested; if poorly cooked, they
are less digestible than in their
raw state. If you are a victim of
faulty cooking, that is, if you suf
fer from Dyspepsia, the rational
cure must be looked for in an arti
ficially digested food, and a food
which will at the same time aid
the digestion of ether foods- Such
a preparation virtually rests the
tired digestive organs, thereby re
storing them to their natural
strength.
The Digestive Cordial, as pre
pared by the Shakers of Mount
Lebanon,is just such a prepara
tion, and a single 10 cent bottle
will convince you of its value. If
your druggist doesn’t keep it, he
will be glad to get it through his
! wholesale house.
The Modern Invalid
i Has tastes medicinally, in keeping
■ with other luxuries. A remedy
must be pleasantly acceptable in
j form, purely wholesome in compo
; sition, truly beneficial in effect
j and entirely-free from every ob
jectionable quality. If really ill
he consults a physician; if consti
' pated he uses the gentle family
laxative Syrup of Figs.
RAILROAD NEWS.
Interesting Rumor Regarding the
Sale of the M, & C.
Another in tersting story has
leaked out concerning the sale of
the Memphis and Charleston rail
way, to come off 1 efore long, which
has elicited much interest, whether ;
there is anything in it or not.
It is reported that Simon Borg, i
of the firm of Simon Borg & Co.,
of New York, who recently ac
quired the Chattanooga, Rome and
Columbus road, is after the valua
ble property and will make the
fight for the line an interesting one
so far as the Southern railway or
any other probable purchasers are
concerned.
Simon Borg is a large owner of
the stock of the Memphis
and Charleston and can well stand
in the way of any of the contem
plated purchasers of the system.
If the line is acquired by Simon
Borg and associates the purchasers
will have almost a through system
of railway from Memphis to Sa
vannah and the coast as well as
direct Florida connection.
Railway officials who are well
informed believe that the purcha
sers of the Chattanooga, Rome and
Columbus wi’l in the near future
build a short connecting line of
railway joining the Georgia and
Alabama, in which they are inter
ested, and the Chattanooga, Rome
and Columbus. This can be con
structed at a nominal cost from
Carrollton to Greenville, Ga.,
which, by adding the Memphis and
Charleston, would give a through
line from Memphis to the coast.
The new proposed route, from
Chattanooga to Savannah and the
coast, would be in the coast, would
be in the neighborhood of 581
miles; with the Memphis mileage
added, it would be 851 miles.
It is also stated that the Illinois
Central ryilway bas an eye on the
Memphis and Charleston with a
view of acquiring the property.
This system, it is said, wishes a
line to this section and will be a
bidder at the Memphis and Char
leston sale.—Chattanooga Times.
He Was Bluffing.
There were five of us who got to
the crossing of Kaw river at the
same time, and we found the old
scow which did duty as a ferry
boat on the far side, the ferryman
dangling his bare feet in the water
and evidently taking things easy.
‘Say, you!” called a cowboy
from our side.
“Wall, what is it?”
“We want to cross over.”
“Yes, guess ye do.”
“Come on with the scow.”
“I don’t have to till I get ready.”
“When will you get ready!”
“Can’t tell.”
It was evident that we had bump
ed up against an eccentric char
acter, and as no one was in a hur
ry we waited patiently for him to
take his time. After fifteen or
twenty minutes he called :
“Mebbe ye hain’t heard the
news!”
“What is it?” asked the cowboy,
who had been delegated to do the
talking on our side.
“The price for gittin’ over used
to be a quarter, but it has riz.”
“What is it now?”
“Half a dollar.”
“And I’ve some news for you!”
“Wall!”
“The price of cartridges used to
be 50 cents a box, but they’ve come
down to a quarter, and I kin afford
to waste a dozen or so!”
“Shootin’ at what?”
“At you! I’ll give you five min
utes to make a start!”
“Kin you plunk that?” asked the
ferryman as he held up his hat on
a stick.
“You bet!” replied the cowboy,
as he sent two bullets through it.
“That’s nuff, and I’ll come over !
This is my bluffin’ day, and I hate
to crawfish, but if I must, 1 must.
That’s the trouble out in this ken
try. You bluff an Injun and lick
; a Chinyman and git all swelled up
over it, and then along comes a
i critter who shoots two-handed and
i makes you eat grass. Mighty pe
cooliar how the price of cartridges
I fell down jest as my price riz up,
1 hain’t it?”
GRANT’S GRATITUDE.
He Gave Ills Check Open For Any Anioenl
• Vp to 850,000.
“I think I carry with metho finest
proof of Grant’s love and gratitude
of any man living,” said Colonel
William Barnard of St. Louis. Ho
opened his pocketbook and drew out
two worn and creased papers. One,
a blank check signed “Ulysses S.
Grant, ” the other a few lines scrawl
ed on a torn bit from a memorandum
book to the effect that “the within
is good up to $50,000” and signed
“Grant. ”
Then Colonel Bill told his story:
Years before he had been a rich
man, and there came a time when
the young infantryman got into
trouble through no great fault of
his own, but through that faculty
for trusting people which never loft
him in all tho after years. He needed
some money, and needed it badly,
yet he was too proud to ask any one
of his wife’s relatives or family con
nections to loan him the amount. As
ho afterward expressed it when talk
ing over the affair with Colonel Bill,
who had been ono of his best friends
from the time he courted Miss Julia,
he was “in a devil of a fix.”
Without knowing very much
about the complications, but receiv
ing an intimation from an officer
stationed at the same fort, the colo
nel, sent the subaltern an unfilled
check, with intructionsto use it he
needed it. Grant did use it and la
beled and filed away the little debt
of gratitude ho was to owo for many
a long day. Colonel Bill’s fortunes
fell with those of hundreds of others
in tho city on tho banks of tho big
river, but always, in some unob
trusive way, a chance was given
him to recoup, and without becom
ing wealthy he kopt “in comfort
able circumstances. ”
Parties knowing tho intimate re
lations existing between tho success
ful general and thocolonel besought
him time and again to go with them
into certain gigantic schemes that
needed only the tacit consent and
protection of Grant to make every
man among them a multimillion
aire. Once the colonel hunted up
Grant “down in tho jungles” of the
southwest and told him how he was
being “pestered to death” by those
enterprising “blockade runners.”
Grant listened quietly until the sto
ry was done; then he swore a few of
the mighty, righteous oaths kept for
choice occasions.
“Bill, do you want to go into that
thing? If you do, I can't say a word,
but”—
“It would have done your heart
good to have soon his face soften
and heard his voice tremble, when I
assured him that, though I didn’t
consider myself a saint by any
means, I did consider myself a gen
tleman, and that, though a million
or two w’ould come in right handy,
I had no thought of making it in a
way that would certainly reflect
upon his honor. Wo talked of other
things after that, as titan t seemed
to want to dismiss tho subject en
tirely. In answer to his inquiries I
told him I was doing fairly well
.financially, and then we drifted to
‘home talk,’ and I soon after left
him and went north and later abroad.
When J next saw Grant, he was in
Washington, and upon bidding him
good night after one of our long
talks he handed me an envelope,
saying carelessly, ‘Hero is something
may fit in some time. ’ When I went
to my rooms, I broke tho seal and
found the check, just as you see it,
and this characteristic note.”
Washington Post.
Cuto Carrie.
Miss Hurryup—A:, George, you
cannot tell what troubles a girl has
who is receiving tho attentions of a
gentleman.
Mr. Holdoff—Troubles, Carrie? Os
what nature, pray?
Miss H.—Well, one’s brothers are
always making fun of one, and one’s
relatives are always saying, “When
is it to come off?” as if marriage
was a prize fight. But that is not
the worst. There’s tho inquisitive
ness of one’s parents. They want to
know everything. There’s papa,
now. He is constantly asking such
questions as "Carrie, what are Mr.
Holdoff’s intentions? What does he
call upon you so regularly for and -
stay so late when he
And be sometimes look>
when he asks this quosAoti tnaSH
actually tremble. ■».
Mr. H.—And hjjlanswer do you !
make to his questicKl, Carrie, dear
est?
Miss H.—l can’t make any an
swer at all, for, you see, you haven’t 1
said anything to me, and—and—of
course—l—l
Then Mr. Holdoff whispered some
thing in Carrie’s ear, and next time
her father questions her she will be
i ready with a satisfactory reply.—
Pearson’s Weekly.
Children Cry for
Pitcher’s Castoria. *
NOTICE. J
I WANT every man and woman in th 3 t’r
1 States interested in the Opium and WbisMS
habits to have one of my books on these
i ea-es. Address B. M. Woollev, Atlanta, GaS
1 Box 382, sed one will be sent ou tree. ■