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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.