Newspaper Page Text
HAM AND EGGS.
It has come to my hearing that
in the Fourth ward of this beauti
ful city <>f Rome lies a poor old
negro woman dead. She has been
dead a number of days, and her
bodv lies in an old house alone,
and no body to give her a decent
burial. Ido not know this to be
a faet. as it came before me too
late last night to investigate. lut
if it be true, in the name of hu
manity and for public safely why
is such a thing permitted?
Has the world become so cal
loused and is the spirit of Chris
tianity so small, that the dead can
not receive proper interrment. In
the .hurry and strife of this mod
ern age, our fellowman* drops out
and after a hasty burial and one
pitiful little tear of regret, the
world rushes on and forgets.
'‘lioiiie has the best papers now
'that she has ever had," remarked
a well known ei'izen to me the
oth r day. “Ke pit up ane I am
sua - that the peopl ' will come to
your support. Good papers are tile
greatest factors in the upbuilding
of a city or country.”
Th' 1 Garlock Packing Company’s
product is known in every portion
of the United States. It is a sin
gular fact that so little is heard of
this institution in Rome, but i s
a matter of fact that they turn out
thebestand most salable line of
rubber packing of any concern in
this country. They have a small
building out in West Rome and
work only a few men, but they are
jthe ’‘stuff” so to speak.
Crowds of Romans will go to
'Cartersville today to hear Sam
• Jones preach. Sam can draw a
multitude of people anywhere he
preaches. And it is not to be won
dered at, because the peculiar style
of his addresses are inimitable, and
the glaring truths are hurled into
sinners’ faces by this fearless man.
Many contend that his method of
striking boldly from'the shoulder,
is more hurtful to Christianity than
any other style of preaching. But
‘l’li tell you in this day it ta'ks
hot shot to strike into the quick
of sin-steeped men. lam a Sam
Jones man and don’t care who’
knows it.
I saw a boy on the electric car
today, and it did my heart good to
look at him. There was a singu
lar and fascinating beauty about
the poise of the shapely head. He
was a manly little fellow, some ten
years of age. and as I gazed into
the frank, blue eyes, and read the
pure, sweet soul beneath. I felt
inwardly that that boy would do
to trust in matters great or small.
1 don’t know his name or where he
lives, but I do know that if I was
a little girl I would fall hopelessly
in love with him.
lam told by competent judges
of such matters that the ‘•Colo
nel” which comes next Wednesday
night, is one of the best musical
comedies touring the South. Man
ager Nevin is giving only the best
companies dates, and the people
should ra ly te his support.
Very Successful.
Mr. 0. P. Meares returned from
Knoxville yesterday and while in
that city ’earned that Col. Arm
strong had been very successful in
Iris undertakings in England. He
went to England only a short while
ago in the interest of a big Western
rnilroad syndicate, and has already
placed $3,000,000 of the bonds. He
will remain in England several
months, and will sell an enormous
amount of these bonds.
iEDW. BUCHANAN.
Teacher cf Violin,
Mandolin, Guitar. Stu
dio, Shorter College.
Hours from 3 p. m. to
5 p. m.
Beginning Mondav,
Sept. 23rd. 1894.
A MERRY HEART.
Cea- ’".y or cloudy day,
Sn . hont or cold.
A I.a, .'j ..it keeps holiday,
A merry heart Is bold.
Though the wind of fortune blow
Out of wintry rkies,
Tace it smiling as yon ko —
A men y heart is wise.
By ami by the sun will shine,
Day must follow night;
Darkest hour is the sign
Os returning light.
God is in Ins heaven still.
Though the world d< nice,
And cheery courage waits on will—
A merry heart is wise.
Over ru -r-d things we climb
To our best estate;
V. e shall stumble many a time,
But we conquer lute.
And we cbo' se the better part
So that evil Hies,
When we keep the dauntless heart.
The merry heart that’s wise.
—Mary Bradley.
THE THREAP OF FATE
He was a little man—one of sarcastic
speech might have called him a toy
man. He strolled into a down town
broker’s office two minutes after the
door was opened.
“Any money for me?” he asked lan
guidly of the head clerk.
“No, but we shall want a little if we
are to carry yesterday’s purchases for
you any longer, sir. ”
The clerk handed out a slip. The lit
tle man took it, glanced at it and then,
putting the paper down, drew out his
checkbook.
“The stock is bound to rise before the
day is over?” he asked as ho pushed the
check through the clerk’s wicket.
“Can’t say, sir. ”
“But what do you think?”
“I don’t think, sir. It’s, one of the
rules of the house that none but the
partners may give advice or information
to the customers. ’ ’ y
“Either partner about?”
“Not just at present, sir.”
“Please have me irutilicd as soon as
it touches the figure I mentioned. I
will sell out promptly when it reaches
the right figure. I need the money by
this afternoon.”
“Mr. Wheaton has your instructions,
sir, and he will follow them faithfully. ”
The little man sauntered out, entered
a nearby case that is famous among
Wall street men, ordered a champagne
cocktail and a light breakfast and lei
surely disposed of it. Then he lighted
a cigar and smoked it reflectively for
awhile.
“Bless me, it’s 10:30 already!” he
murmured, coming to himself and pull
ing out his watch. “I must get back to
the broker. Dare say he’s sold my little
investment for me. In that case I’ll
have the money all right before noon. ”
The same clerk was still at the little
window.
“Well?” asked the little man.
“More margins,” said the clerk.
“That stock is going down.”
• “Why, yes, indeed!” murmured the
plunger. “This is really a heavier mar
gin than I paid an hour or two ago. ’ ’
But he took out bis checkbook. There
was not the sign of a cloud on his face
as he wrote the figures—s3,ooo.
“Here you are,” he said, passing in
the check. “I wish you’d ask Mr.
Wheaton if he can’t hurry up the deal
—I believe he called it that—for this
affair is getting decidedly expensive. A
few more such drafts upon me will ex
haust me. ”
The clerk paid little attention to this
remark. He was accustomed to such
phrases. They were a part of his daily
life.
The little man went out again. On
the sidewalk he paused, looking irreso
lutely about him.
“Wonder what lean do to kill time?”
he thought. “People who spend all
their time around Wall street must find
it terribly hard to kill time day in and
day out. It’s kind of monotonous to
pass all the time in that case, but I
don’t see any way out of it. I’m very
sure that 1 couldn’t become a habitue
of Wall street. I should die of ennui.
However, I haven't time to go up town.
I must be on hand to receive the money
• that this investment is going to bring
me. ’ ’
So he wandered back to the case. It
was too hot to eat, and besides ho wasn’t
hungry. Ho ordered a small bottle and
tried to drink it. but met with only in
different success.
Yet he managed to put in an hour at
the case. Then he rose and went back
to the office.
As he entered his eye brightened and
ho hastened his step, for he saw Mr.
Wheaton in his private office.
“Well, what news?” he asked.
“Have you sold out for me?”
“The clerk has something for you,”
Wheaton replied.
“Not another assessment, I hope?”
“I’m sorry to say it is.” The little
man walked rather hurriedly out to the
clerk’s desk, drawingout his checkbook
as he went.
He merely glanced at the slip and
then wrote out the check, but there was
a cloud on his face.
“I hope the tide’ll turn soon,” he
said. “I’ve only got $3,100 left, and
then”
“And then?” the clerk repeated.
“Well, perhaps you don’t know what
it means to me. ”
The clerk didn’t even take the trouble
to ask. 4 Hard hearted? Well, brokers’
clerks don’t attempt to shoulder the
troubles of the world.
“When things get to this pitch,”
murmured the little man to himself,
I “I suppose it’s the proper thing to
j watch the stock ticker. I’ll be blessed,
I though, if I know how to do it.”
He confided his difficulty to the clerk,
who obligingly explained to the neo
phyte what the seemingly cabalistic
rs on the tape were really in
tended to show.
“1 think 1 understand now, ” said the
little man. “If you don’t mind, I’ll
stay right here beside it. ”
I “The tape is for the convenience of
our customers, ” replied the clerk and
THE HUSTLER OF ROME,SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 23 1894
went back to his absorbing task over ’
: the books.
For th.' next hour the little man stood
by the ticker reading the occasional
quotations < f his stock.
“It’s going down gradually,” he ;
murmured. “Th /e'.l be another as-.css- .
ment soon. Why can’t the wretched
stock go up?”
Even while ho was propounding this
conundrum to himself the cl . k ;p- ,
preached with another of those fateful '
slips.
■ “Nine hundred? Certainly,” re
sponded the little man, and the check
book came out once more.
Tin re was a look of decided annoy
mice on his face :.s ’)•• r ‘ .i: n< 1 I > the '
instrument that was s.ov.iy, rtffinUuss- i
ly grinding out the serial story of for- I
tunes won and lost.
Dr. Darcy, a friend of Wheaton’s,
was in the office with the broke r.
“I’ve been studying that little f lh, v
■ out there,” said the medical man. “He
’ is a good illustration of the crying evils
f of your line of business. ”
The broker smiled carelessly, then
, yawned as if either the heat of the day
or the turn of the conversation render. I
1 him sleepy.
“The little fellow hasn't dropped all
of his pile yet, ” he remarked. “He’s
| pretty near the bottom, though—of his
pile, I mean—and he’s on a losing slock
| too. ’ ’
“Then, why not warn him in time?”
I queried thq,doctor.
“What would bo the use?” counter
queried the broker. “It wouldn't do
any good, and its no business of mine,
anyway. ’ ’
“Wheaton, surely you are not utterly
hearties!” cried the doctor. Ho was an
enthusiastic man when lie got started
on some pet idea. “I repeat, why not
warn this young man in time? I ted
I you, Wheatou, that he has neither
, much mental nor bodily stamina, and
I if you permit him to be ruined he is
i likely to go insane—perhaps commit
j some violent crime—for which you,
’ Wheaton, who permitted him to go to
his ruin, would be responsible in the
1 ' lof heaven, even if not in the minds
of men. Remedy your terrible work, I
say, or you may have to answer to your
own conscience for a crime that I would
not have on mine. ”
Wheaton smiled again and repeated
hi;i query, “What would be the use of
it?”
“Then I will go to him myself,” ex
claimed the man of medicine. “I will
warn him before it is too late.”
“And get yourself kicked, perhaps,
for meddlin': in another man’s affairs. ”
“I shall speak to him, anyway, and
at once. ’ ’
“Darcy, you will do nothing of the
sort. You are <Jv.ays welcome in my
office, but you must not feel called upon
to interfere. ”
Dr. Darcy arose and began to pace up
and down the little private office, keep
ing his sympathetic gaze riveted all the
time upon the hapless speculator.
Finally he exclaimed:
“There’s the poor little chap signing
another check. ’ ’
“I dare say,” replied the imperturba
ble broker. “His stock has been falling
down stairs all day long, and I am con
fident that tomorrow it will go down
another flight of stairs. ”
Dr. Darcy gazed contemptuously at
the cold hearted broker who would
knowingly permit such an idiotic squan
dering of a fortune.
At last the closing came. The little
man took a look at the last quotation.
Then he bounded into the private of
fice, shouting:
“Wheaton, it almost closed me out.
But it has stopped going down for to
day, and I’ve got S3OO left.”
“And sense enough into the bargain
to let it alone and keep hold of your
balance, I hope,” roared Dr. Darcy.
“That stock is one of the biggest swin
dles in the market. ”
Wheaton smiled. He had been filling
out a document, which he now signed
and handed to the little man.
“Thanks,” said the latter, pocketing
I the paper, with a look of supreme satis
i faction, “h’s a nice little profit—
I enough to keep me in Europe for a year
i or more. ’'
With these words he was gone. Dr.
Darcy turned upon the broker and de-
I mantled:
“Wheaton, what the deuce does that
little snip mean? Here he has been
squandering money on margins all day
long, and now he says that the profits
will keep him in Europe for a year. ”
“It means, ” replied the broker, “that
this little fellow belongs to one of the
wealthiest families in New York. He
and auother very rich young fellow
made a bet last night as to whether
1,000 shares of that stock would eat up
more than $15,000 in margins today.
Each put up half of the money to be
used and besides that a wager of $50,-
000 a side. Our young friend who has
just left won by a balance of S3OO. So,
you z see, it was a very lucky investment
for him. ’ ’
The doctor looked as if he didn’t feel
well. At last he blurted out:
“Wheaton, you made a fool of me in
the most approved fashion. Os course
you’ll dine with me tonight, and we’ll
wipe out this score in the best wine I
can buy.”—New York Journal.
The Human Voice.
One’s surprise at the fact that no two
persons' voices are perfectly alike ceases
when one is informed by an authority
on the subject that, though there are
only nine perfect tones in the human
voice, there are the astounding number
of 17,592,186,044,415 different sounds.
Os these, 14 direct muscles produce 16, -
383, and 30 indirect muscles produce
173,741,823, while all in co-operation
produce the total given above.
Good Advice.
Mrs. Dimpleton—l would like hotel
life, but I am so lonesome all day while
my husband is at the office.
Mrs. Cheltenham—Why don’t you
keep house? Then you can spend your
spare time in thinking what you will
have for breakfast—New York Sun.
A SIMPLE REMEDY.
1 If you’d ts ha"P' all t'.o day,
Xe ■ r I■;. • i‘"vi. .1 ~i: vur grow gray,
Frei e ’ jL" w 0... v .•> i thing but play.
Be: ire .nt >n .or. u. 1 co'ie to stay.
Just let l » wot --. hi' -a’’ eir way.
Just el :■' v. ol ..U al tb'-rs .
Dctrj.i f. j«» Pre»».
CATCH lie? .'1 TAJ! TAI'
A sunny morning in June. The p' it
form crowded —cheap trippers . .r: outL
snt, heavy swells and s.vellcs xor the
links at Hgyling island, with bugs of
golf sticks. The yachting man, strongly
in evidence, sunburnt and puffing a cig
arette vigorously. If he is a new hand
j— a Dickey Sam—he wears a cloth
! peaked cap with the club burgee, a well
j cut coat of serge or pilot cloth bristling
with bronze buttons, loose flannel con
tinuations and white shoes. No man
was ever so much a seadog as the yacht
ing tyro locks.
The older sailing men, those to the
manner born — “swagger squadron
men,’’who can fly the white ensign,
are dressed in long, lean, frock coats,
loose trousi rs turned up, pointed boots,
immaculate collars and glossy hats—Hie
aim of the man who has lived is to look
as much like a stockbroker as possible.
Os course, down at the Castle or on Hyde
pier they will blossom into a seasonable
crop cf buttons and burgees and display
remarkable activity in dodging that ty
rant ot the deep—the sailing master —if
the water looks a bit choppy.
Two people attracted a lot of atten
tion by their palpable efforts at conceal
ment. He, although the day was so hot,
was enveloped in a long cloak, with a
collar reaching past his ears, ami his
cotton white hair and mustache showed
up occasionally in strong contra? t to the
deep brown ex his face as he turned to
watch the porters attacking a huge
mound of his belongings.
Each box and bag was blazoned with
an imperial coronet over a monogram,
and then told one another guardedly and
under promises of profound secrecy
“that was Prince Paul Dumtoff, the
owner of the new 100 rater now lying
off Southampton.”
She, the lady, was tall and gracefully
girllike. A neat, natty blue serge Red
fern frock; a sunburnt straw nat, with
a dark blue ribbon; tiny tanned boots; a
white shirt, with a turndown collar,
and flowing tie completed her costume,
saving a thick gossamer veil that com
pletely hid her face, and but for the
whiteness and purity of her neck it
would have seemed she suffered from
some facial disfigurement. It was evi
dently a desire not to be recognized that
led to the adoption of the yashmak.
She was evidently expecting or avoid
ing some friends. Iler head moved with
a birdlike quickness as she scanned each
new arrival on the platform, and her
slender hand, white and jewel less,
twitched nervously round the handle of
the morocco monogrammed case she car
ried. Catching her eye from a distance,
he walked toward her with the easy,
firm self assurance that women like.
She saw he was coming to her and wait
ed calmly—perhaps she breathed more
quickly.
He raised his soft hat, and with a
courtly bow said in perfect English,
with the increscent of an accent: “Par
don me, you are distressed. Have you
missed your maid? Can I be of any serv
ice to you?”
Now his hat was off he appeared a
prematurely white haired man of 45 or
50, with a firm face and voice—a man
evidently used to command.
“Thank you very much,” came in a
soft sibilant voice from beneath the
thick gossamer. “I have not only lost,
my maid, but my portmanteau. I am
afraid it is under that pile of luggage,
and”—with a little shrug—“l am
afraid that pile of luggage is yours. ”
“That is mine, madame. I will get
your bag at once. May I ask where you
are going? To Southampton, and it is
of the highest importance you should
not miss this train? Pardon, do not trou
ble. I will see that all is arranged. ”
A few words to the guard, a rapid
passage of backsheesh, ami the missing
bag with a dainty monogram and small
crest was placed carefully on the rack
of the first class carriage by which the
veiled lady was standing. With the
coolness that seemed part of his nature,
the Russian indicated to a porter a
small hamper and had it placed in the
same compartment. There must have
been some collusion and a lavish tip,
for, though tho train was crowded, the
guard, after the imperceptible manner
of his kind, kept that carriage empty
until the train started, and they found
themselves alone, securely locked in.
A sudden start ran through her slen
der frame. She paused and asked quick
ly, “Do you know when the next train
leaves Waterloo for Southampton?”
He was desolated. Os course she
missed her maid, but he was afraid not
for some hours.
“Madame is glad? Madame is afraid
of being followed?”
“Yes, madame is glad. She does not
wish to be taken back and forced into
a hateful marriage,” blushing prettily.
The old, old story—stern father, eld
erly lover, titled, rich, but horrid. No
mother, no sister, no brother. She was
flying from bondage to her aunt, Lady
Azuregore, in Guernsey.
Yes, she was Lady Constance Az
uregore. Had he really met her at the
Duchess of Arlington’s dance? She
thought she knew his face. That was
why she trusted him so implicitly on
the platform, of course. But if she was
veiled, why was he so shrouded in a big
cloak? “Come, now,” anxiously, “a
lady? An elopement?”
No, no, and again no! Nothing so
joyous. He was Prince Paul Demtoff
and had fallen between two stools—
had incurred the enmity of the imperial
court through coquetting with the ni
hilists. That meant the Alexiefsky Ra
velin or the fortress of Peter and Paul
in St. Petersburg, and, on the otner
hand, finding the ‘ ‘party of progress’ ’ go
ing too far, he was threatened with
death for deserting the red flag.
“You mast pardou me, prince, but
we se.-m in trouble together,” and she
laughed merrily. “Do you know I half
thought you vere a detective?”
Dy this time he had returned to his
hamper and produced deftly a table
cloth, plates, knives, forks and servi
ettes, a small bottle of Chateau Mouton
Rothschild and a dainty cold chicken.
Their mutual confessions had lessened
embarrassment, and the lady, after
making a little moue, said that she was
so hungry and so glad to eat, etc.
They chatted and laughed as the train
sped through the beautiful country, and
by the time Southampton was thought
of she had smoked half a mild cigarette
and he had kissed her hand.
She readjusted her veil, and ho as
sumed his big cloak with a sigh as the
whistle of the train signaled the station.
“The Guernsey boat doos not leave
till midnight. What are you going to
do? Where will you put up?”
“I don’t know. I will never be taken
back alive. And you, you are hunted.
What will you du?”
“Go ou board my yacht. She Is lying
off here, and the gig waits for this train
at the landing steps. I must hail them,
as none of them know me. My agent
has engaged an entirely new crow, skip
per included, all Eugli. ii. I want no
nihilists on board.” And ho looked
moodily out of the window.
She made a sudden movement, as if
about to speak, but drew back. Again
she leaned forward, and tho repetition
roused him from his thoughts. He
looked up and saw her eyes glistening
even through the thick veil. She was
cry in',!
“What is the matter? You are fright
ened. Can I help you?”
“I hardly dare ask you. You may
think badly of me, but I will not be
forced into this detestable marriage.
Can you—may I”
He divined her thoughts. “Stay on
board my yacht and board the boat at
midnight? Yes, your ladyship, yes—in
all honor, yes.” And he held out both
his hands, and with a sob almost hys
terical she placed her tiny gloves in
them as the train stopped.
They left the station by a side door
unnoticed, and walking down the broad
graveled road with the soft sward and
the old time cannon passed the crum
bling walls and found the boat manned
by six bronzed typical yachtsmen, the
skipper, a fine looking old man, sitting
motionless in the stern sheets holding
the yoke lines.
“Do you know a respectable woman
who can look after this lady until tho
mail boat starts?” asked the prince as
he handed her carefully on board and
passed her portmanteau. She carried
the morocco ease herself.
“Well, surr, I've to'.k the libbaty of
invitin my < Id woman on 1 on'. I today.
She’s been a stewardess. surr.”
“Capital, c.iptuin. Now, lads, give
way!”
Thu 1 >r.t soon shot alongside a beau
tiful schooner yacht. The crew manned
the gangway as the prince and Lady
Constance came on board, and a mother
ly, sunburned woman courtesied her
through an exquisitely furnished saloon
cabin into a bijou boudoir with a lace
curtained bunk and a host of feminine
fripperies.
“I may sail tonight. Is all ready?
Right. Take the boat and go ashore,
bring off my luggage and anything we
may want from thy ship’s stores. And,
Johnson, keep the men afloat, but you
just find out if there is any hue and cry
about a lady eloping. ”
Captain Johnson, an old merchant
captain, slowly winked and looked very
knowing. “fl’m I” he said to himself,
“I half s’spected as much. That’s the
sort of owner I likes to sail with. Lots
o’ yellow boys kickin about this voyage,
I lay. ’ ’
In about an hour he returned, and
duffing his peaked cap said mysterious
ly, “I spoke to my cousin, the pleece
man, an he says there’s a lot o’ cockney
detectives down a-watchin the station
an the Guernsey packet for some young
’ooman. ”
Her ladyship had washed all travel
stains away and changed her frock. She
looked like a fresh rosebud, but her face
grew deathly pale, her eyes dilated, and
the nerve lines deepened into marks of
agony when he told her the captain’s
story. He thought she was going to
faint and made as though to catch her.
With a supreme effort she regained her
self possession and said in a hoarse
whisper:
“Oh, save me! Take me to Guernsey
in your yacht, or I will jump over
board!”
He turned on his heel without reply
ing and went up the companionway on
deck.
“Johnson, your wife doesn’t mind a
trip to sea?”
“Lor bless yer royal ’ighness, she’s
dying for a sniff of the ocean!”
“Get under weigh at once.”
“Aye, aye, sir! All hands on deck!
Tumble up, my hearties!”
Her face flushed deeply when she
heard the clank of the chain pump and
the flapping of the foresail, and she
thanked him with both hands and a
sweet smile.
Under a good southwesterly breeze
the yacht spun along merrily, throwing
the foam in long, beautiful, featherlike
curves from her clipper stern.
The lady stood leaning dreamily
against the side ropes, and the prince,
an experienced sailor evidently, took
the tiller and threaded the way careful
ly through the crowd of craft. For a
time neither spoke; then, abruptly giv
ing the management to the appreciative
ly critical skipper, he beckoned her into
the cabin.
“I will land you at Guernsey tomor
row’ morning, ” he said, “but I have
been deceiving you. I am not Prince
Paul Demtoff. lam his valet. I have
robbed him of 1,000,000 rubles and
am now going to the Argentine in his
yacht,” and he stood up rigidly and
faced her.
She smiled and said calmly: “Very
good! Take me with you. I am not
Lady Constance Azuregore. I am her
maid, but I’ve got her jewel caue. ”
Million.
KLUSTER OF
BiJ LLS EVE SHOTS.
A great many people w m „ (
to CintergviDe todav tn
to hear
Sam P. Jonas, The R l)lne •
has offered a very low rou u \
rate ol one dollar and q u jf, e a
ber will take advantage of
cujisiou train leave.no ai qi- v *'
p. m. returning leaves
4:45 p mor you can re lu dy *’*
until Monday,aftenioor.
* *
*
Big hearted, good natured u
er Will Nee]. He has withdrawn
from the well-known and p r(K|t
I ous firm of McHenry,
Neel and taken oflicesin the Lie
gant new King building. i vll
there is not a prettier set of
offices in the city than thoso ,
occupied by, “The Tattler.” 3
has promised me nu urticle
next Sunday’s Hustler of r OM|
and —jf course it will a
un. ”
000
Mrs A. 0. Garrard and her
daughter, Mrs Ch >rley Garrardare
now in market. They propose to
secure itll the latest, the very ] a
test novelties in the shape of mi]],
inary and when they return to the
city you can just bank on them
being authority on anything in the
shape of woman's head gear.
000
In another column of this paper
will be luuud the h<i\eiii.-mrmt q[
Messrs. Lausdmii A Richards who
are daily receiving big suipmeuts
of lurnuure, c ffius and caskets.
I The new firm is coin 1 .j C [
I men iv.lo liar oid 1 rig , : ex
purieuce in tne furuuur.: ua.i au
iivitakuig business ol 1 Ii .s city and
section, i'ney «il succeed, be
cause mey eie i.i 1 ui '-..ergy siica
' o.lity and e,.leipr; s e.
*
* *
1 wasammusfcd yesterday atCol.
C. M. Jones, of Pumpkin Vine,
who is making the race for State
Treasurer on Hie Pup’s ticket, Dr.
Feiton introduced Uol. Joues who
opened bis speech by saying “tel
low citizeu u , lam nut much of a
speaker but 1 am s good black
smith. I'hal settled it.
* *
•
One ot the doities', tastiest,
ittle ladies in this city is Miss
Eagle xVlrs. Wardlaws new trim
mer, Miss Eagle is “high author
ity ’’ when it comes to pluming
feathers and p : uckiug flowers.
She can trim a fiat eo that it
becomes a delight for your bus
b. nJ or papa to talk through.
000
Yesterday as Dr. Felton, with
tottering step, was ascending the
court house steys he met Presiding
Elder Pierce when the following in
teresting shots were exchanged:
“Why howdy Tom,” said the po
litical parson as he extended a
trembling palsied hand, "1 am
glad to see you, Tom are you go
ing up?’
“Yes, I had started to the court
room,” answered the gifted pre
siding elder.
000
“Well, I am glad you are, Toni,
for I feel like I would like to have
yoxqprya for the deliverance
these people for about three hours.
“Pardon me, Brother Felton,
I think about three hours prayer
for you would not be ottered auii.
replied Dr. Pierce, drily. An
they ascended to the court rm
above where Dr. Felton wa» C11 ‘
ed by the wild-eyed, loud moutei
pops.
*** . v
I am pleased to learn t hid n ’-
good colored friend, / 10 ’ '
M, Dent, Principal of the ' ‘
colored public school has ,
pointed as one of the five co
commissioners to represent u
colored people of Genagia a
Atlanta Exposition. 1 ; nfnrul
negroes thus honored, I am 1
edare Prof. W. H.
Clarks University and 1
J. Gaines of Atlanta. Pro •
Wright of Savannah, and he ■
J. White D D. u s Augu»“. leiidi|l(
Dent is easily one ot tn
men of his race and a > c . ul
whom every negro in Gc g
afford to fell proud.
Have you read the latter
the McDonald, Sparks,
Co’s add in this paper? H F flD j
not, why do so at °’ '.grave"
pose yourself on tn
feature of their business.