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be o N. fj /a * ’friSBifr h 7 ,..- VOL. VI. Oh, the drum! There is soma ’ Intonation la thy that gram Monotony of utterance strikes the spirit dumb, As we hear Through thoulear And unclouded atmosphere Thy crumbling palpitation roll in upon the car. ’There’s a part Of tiie art Of thy a" musie-tlirobbiug heart That thrills soriiething ' in us that awakens with a start, Attfete dirne AndVxactitude of time, Goes marching on to glory to thy melody .sublime. -And the guest Of the breast .. That thy rolling robs of rest Is a patriotic* spirit as a Continental dressed, And he looms From the glooms Of a century of tombs. And the blood he spilled at Lexington in living beauty blooms. FOR BLOOD WILL TELL. By W. SS. HARWOOD. , ISS WARING sat I silent, noting the I II rapidly growing dusk on the wide m l Al V M prairie. The stars »l were just begin J uing to show like tJi ■ j I glittering d i a - mond-points. Just y i/ the suggestion of the autumn was in the cool night air. The stillness as Jim and she drove along over the si lent plain was broken now and then by a sharp, starling rattle, a sound once ; heard never to be forgotten, the danger- | 2 signal of the deadly rattlesnake coiled j up in the long, brown grass. “Hit appears to me,” Jim was say ing, “that that air wind don’t, bode any good to the settlers ’round about these here parts.” j 'f"JlHi ? ’ “Guess you haiu’t ever ben on one of our Dakoty peraries afore, Miss Waring, pr you wouldn’t have asked such a question. There’s two things out hyar that’s more- feared than the Old Nick himself—one on ’em’a a perarie fire and another’s aperarie fire with the wind a-blowin’ a forty-mile an-hour gale.” They rode on again in silence, Agnes Waring had come from the far great city to visit her brother on his Western ranch. Jim, the man-of-all work, was driving her out from the ■ station, fifteen miles from the ranch, . “By the long-horned spoons!” said Jim suddenly, rising in his seat and stopping the horses with a treniendous jerk: “look over there, will you? Thar’s bizness for us, sure’s you’re a foot bigli! Git up there!” he yelled to the horses and, giving one them a stinging blow with his whip, they •sprang into a run. Across the level plain shone a light, the light at the ranch headquarters nearly a mile away, To the left of it a dull, reddish glow had come up and, now and then, at the horizon line, where tbe darker part of the sky was lost in the prairie, sharp flames were darting up. “Don’t you be skeered,” Jim ejacu lated, as fie whipped the horses into a ^danger—leastwise wyet more furious pace; “thereain’t any for us.” Alice was a self-possessed city girl with a generous stock of old-fashioned common sense; but she was startled at Jim’s actions and her face had grown pale. all §aid “Everything’s right,” Jim, as reassuringly as he could under tbe ■-circumstances; “don’t you be skeered.” He bad seized the reins between his firm, strong teeth and now with one hand, now with the -other, now with both, he was whip¬ ping the horses into still greater ■speed. “Hate—-ter—lick a team— like this”—as the wagon bounced and tumbled and rattled along; “bate ter Ldo hit—but hit—can’t be helped— ■fen there’s life—depends—ou it.” few moments more and the horses Hshed rip to the big ranch keadquar ■Fl-s house. Jim threw the lines to Hie ground, and, seizing Alice by the JHiist, jumped out with her. “Sorry to he so unperlite, but there ain’t any time to wait—kin you ride liossba(&?” Barely waiting for an affirmative answer from the girl, who was pas sionately fond of riding aud who modestly owned the gold medal for superior horsewomanship in her city riding club, Jim ran to tbe barn, flung & man’s saddle on a beautiful horse .and before Alice had' time to recover s jtfjduction .jfrom her surprise at this novel intro to her brother’s establishment, the horse wa3 before lier. “You say yon kin ride; wa’al, here’s the best chance to show hit you ever had in your life. Thar’s the best hoss in McLeod County—racin’ blood for five gineratioas; there ain’t nothin’ but a perarie fire kin ketch him. Jump him, Miss Waring, ride straight toward the fire yonder; thar ain’t no danger now till you git ter Mule •Crick, Jest over the crick a quarter THE DRUM, And his eyes Wear the guise Of a nature pure and wise, And the, love of them is lifted to a some thing in the skie3 That is bright white. Red and With a blur of starry light As it laughs in silken ripples to the breezes i ‘ day and night. Then with sound, As profound the thunderings > As resouad, Come thy wild reverberations in a throe that shakes the ground, An<1 “ cr > 7 ''“wketh^Hag ... . it flutters by, Wings rapturously upward till it nestles t in . the sky. Oh the drum! There is some Intonation in thy gram strikes the Monotony of utterance that spirit dumb, As we hear Through the clear And unclouded atmosphere Tby rumbling palpitations roll in upon the ear. —James 'Whitcomb Riley. of a mile or sothar’s a Russian woman an’ her six weeks’ old baby, She’s all alone, fer I saw lier husband in town wbeii we left. They liain’t back¬ fired an inch, and you’ve got to git the woman and lier baby over tbe crick. See? I’d go myself, but tlie wind is shifted and this ' hull ranch’ll be in danger afore long. You’ll pass your brother and a parcel o’ men backfirin’ along the line: don’t stop fer any ex planations, but ride fer the crick an’ : ride as if tlie Old Harry was on yer track! You been’t afeered, be you?” The, blood bad come back to the pale cheeks. ‘/You j say there’s little danger of my J losing my life, Jim?” j “Not a bit—ef you only git the I woman across the crick; in time; but | don’t wait—jump quick, fer the Lord’s j sake, or you’ll be too late. ” : With a I'iule toss be threw her,info IhAsaddle "as ifshe Kad been a child, j and he handed thrust her short, the cruel reins, rawhide ^.s he into did j so a her band. “Don’t bit him with that unless you have to—he’s never bin licked in bis life; but he kin outrun a cyclone. Ef you have ter hit him, give it to him red-hot!” It is long, sometimes, before a horse and its rider become acquainted with ods another; but it seemed but a few seconds to Alice before she and tlie noble animal were old friends. Jim was right, Prince Hal could run; and after the first few tremendous jumps and Alice had steadied herself in the saddle, the thrilling excitement stirred her blood like an intoxicant, and she realized that Jim had told the truth; it promised to be tbe race of her life. “Je-ho-sa-phat!” exclaimed a mail who was plowing a fire furrow along the edge of the ranch where the men were at work, “Mr. Waring, look, will you! Look at Prince Hal!” Mr. Waring had not more than time to look up before he saw his choicest mount pass by him like the wind, a girl with hair flying behind her on his back, tbe horse going at a pace that not. bis fastest Kentucky ancestor ever matched. On the horse went as if he, too, knew of the life-saving mission of tlie hour. The foam came back- from bis teeth, and bis flanks were white. Alice leaned forward in tbe saddle, as she urged bim on, and stroked his neck. A moment more and they were at the creek, a shallow stream. Beyond, Alice could see a low house sil¬ houetted against a great red bank of flame. Tbe fire was coming. Already she could feel the intense heat. A leap anda bound; they were over tbe stream and on again with still swifter flight. It was a matter of seconds now until tbe low sod house was reached. In front frantically of it was the trying Russian to peasant woman, save some of her household goods by dragging themwith one band further from the course of the fire, while in one arm she clutched the baby, around which she had thrown a wet shawl to protect it from the heat. “Why didn’t you run?” cried Alice, as she jumped from the horse; “don’t you see, the fire is almost on you? You can’t save your things; run for the creek! Run, I say! or you’ll be burned to death.” Alice ... grabbed , , . tne ,, child , .. -i from . the i woman’s arms and sprang up into the ! saJdle as best she could The woman J stood as it stupefied, the lighting red glow rom the coming flames up ; her stolid face. The fire was coming on faster now; they could hear the roar and crackle as it swept through the long, man-high grass of the swale beyond the fence. “Quick! quick, I say! no, you can’t ! run fast enough now to get to the ] creek; jump up behind me, quick! | quick! or we shall all he burned. I can’t leave you here to die!” j The woman’s stolid nature was aroused at last by the animal fear of ; danger, and while the heat grew more , “To thine n»n self be true.und it will follow, as nigftit the day, thou cans't not then be false to any man. ” LINCOLNTON, GA- THURSDAY, JIXY It. 1898 intense every instant she clambered up behind Alice. Prince Hal’s face was toward the fire. He had not moved since lie reached the spot; heseemel like some beautiful statue, his body motionless, his ears sharp and erect, his nostrils distended; the awful fascination of the fire was upon him. Alice pulled at the bit to turn him! He paid no attention. She spoke sharply, but - be only moved uneasily; . ,, he would not stir from the spot. Swifter than an electric shock came the thought to her mind that horses in burning buildings would stay and die m the flames before they would be led out. It would be impossible to reach the creek on foot; in half a min¬ ute more the flames would be on them. Grabbing the wet shawl from the baby with one band, and swinging the chilel backward to its mother with the other; she threw the shawl over the horse’s bead. With the sight of the fire shut out he quivered, turned as the bit gave him a sharp twist, and, just as the flames were leaping over the sheds hard by the house, he sprang away. It was a race for life now—for three lives; for tbe wind had increased to a gale, and there is nothing more ter¬ rible in this world than such a relent¬ less ocean of flames as was rolling over tbe grass-grown plain. ad¬ Alice thought of Jim's parting vice: “He’s never ben licked in his life; but, if you Lave ter, give it to him red-hot!” With a sharp cry, urging the "horse on under his heavy burden, she struck kirn with all her strength on tbe quiv¬ ering flSiuk, not once, but many times. He jumped as if stung by a rattle¬ snake and. seizing the bit in teeth, shot, away as if shot from some mighty catapult, of him Alice had lost all control now. She could neither guide nor check nor urge him. The blood of a noble ancestry, the blood or a racer, was on fire in liis veins. Down the short hill, over tbe brook, up the further side,'on over the plain like some wild spirit of the night he ran. A cheer that you could have heard- a mile, and that, mayhap, was heard clear up to the stars "of heaven, rang out as Prince Hal, white with loam, [lev by tbe crowd of men. gal!” said if Jim, j<-Tt ain’t he .t!m helped _v*” Alice hbw-t as from the saddle; “an’ you ain’t agoin’ ter faint, nuther; I kin tell it by .your eye. Didn’t I tell you be could out run a cyclone? But there had ter be somebody atop o’ bim who knew how ter ride.”—New York Independent, Made Bruiisli by Starvation. Silvester Carter, an importer of Chi¬ cago, was in Matanzas a few days be¬ fore the beginning of hostilities with Spain. He was there at the time the cargo of provisions from Kansas City was landed for the starving peoiile. Speaking to a Picayune representa¬ tive, he said: “I doubt if pen can ex¬ aggerate tbe appalling state of the people in and around that town, and not only there, but wherever I went in the provinces really in the control of the Spaniards. It was enough to break ohe’s heart to contemplate the multitude of tbe starving, and it looked like an endless and bo|Deless task to attempt even to supply these starving mouths. I saw numbers of people who were evidently well bred and cultured, reduced to that stage of privation that they looked like spectres. Have you ever seen a populace of starv¬ ing people? It is an awful sight; it almost curdles the blood. You hardly recognize the people as fellow human beings. A part of that something which makes up a human being seems lacking. They suggest more animals than human beings—ugly animals, too —and it would be an ugly set of peo¬ ple did they possess any physical force. I saw a mother snatch a loaf of bread from her child and devour it much as I have seen thh lions at feeding time in a menagerie pull meat through the bars and gorge it. And tbe child glared at her mother as if she were contemplating what she would do if she were able. Think of the condi¬ tion to which a mother must be re¬ duced to take a morsel from her fam¬ ished child. There is nothing but the Drute left.”—New Orleans Picayune. No Heady Money Needed. In the British settlement in the great Chinese city of Shanghai ready money is practically unknown. After you have had lunch at a restaurant you calmly get up aud walk out with¬ out a thought of payment in cash. Some time later in the day a coolie arrives at your residence with a tiny slip qf paper—a “chit,” as they call it—simply a memoradum of the amount. Y- v. get a shave at your bar tiie same system ' is carrfed out. Yqu ? Hae a eWBpaper L or a bou A t ’ ^ is t r esult. The v e / shoe hlack does not ask for cop * * bri iu hia bm at the end f th e moath . An Extraordinary Holiday. The Mayor of Foggia, in Italy, has granted a public holiday to the vil lagers of that interesting old town ii| honor of Signora of the Rosa baptism Zurlo, of who the childrgHj rece a presented her husband with aud^tf| four jj all born on the same day, to**1* NOTED BATTLE HORSES. STEEDS THAT CARRIED FAMOUS MEN IN MANY CONFLICTS, ■ A Branch of the Service That Suffers More Fatalities Than Do the Men- j General Phil Sheridan’s Black War i Jl<>!>.- Gen, Grant’s Military Chargers, Horses in war suffer more fatalities men. Out of the many thousands j :%iio have given their lives, perishing ; »-in their duty toward their masters, ; a few return home to spend their lives in the ease and honor they de serve. One warhorse, however, which has self, made and a splendid record for him- j now 1ms his virtues, name, and noble deeds engraved on a fitting tombstone, was the little chestnut the great Cattle Duke of Wellington rode at the of Waterloo. Copenhagen,named after the capital of Denmark from which country and city he came, was a spirited thoroughbred, standing fit teen bands high, and $2000 was the price paid for him. Copenhagen served ! under Wellington during the Spanish war, and for eighteen hours he carried ' his master at Waterloo. After this he was sent to the duke’s home, Strath tieldsaye, in England, to take his ease. A member of the Royal Academy of i .English painters was paid to make a handsome portrait of Copenhagen, which the duke loved and petted to /the day of his death. The last years of the faithful horse were, however, j sadly embittered by the teasing of i Thousands of curious persons who came to visit him in his paddock, and this groom would clip hairs from his tail and mane to sell for a few shil¬ jheard lings to tbe visitors. When the duke of this he put Copenhagen in a sag cage, where he lived in peace, ill is funeral was well attended, and at jBtvathfieldsave his tombstone, ordered fbvtlie {seen, duke excellent himself, preservation. is still to be i I in Nine years after tlie Emperor Nr pel eon died at St. Helena an old white horse perished of old age and pnen it,. j jo.,.ain , ; ,-,uglaiul. lht ske.eton I. i . i .• , • ,-Imted service institution irniitution in m 6 White White- ’ 3ta!l yard, London, and to all visitors j L t Lunger is pointed Napoleon out rode as at Marengo, tbe battle the of A ■■ cm 1 loo. .Marengo''*fame urig-.nally from Egypt and was left to wander on the dismal battlefield when the empe¬ ror was forced to fly for his life. An English officer found and took him, and he was sold to an English general, in English pastures, cared for by rev¬ erent grooms, this noble horse passed the latter years of bis life far more peacefully and happily than his great and unfortunate master. His portrait also was painted by a famous artist and now hangs in a country house in England. General Robert E. Lee and General Ulysses S. Grant, General Stonewall Jackson and Sheridan all brought their favorite chargers safely through many bloody battles, and both Gen¬ eral Lee and Jackson were outlived by their warhorses. Cincinnati, General Grant’s most famous liorse, was pre¬ sented to him by a man also named Grant, but not related to tlie great commander. Cincinnati weathered the war and died as sincerely lamented as he had lived respected. A sober brown horse, the one he rode at the surrender of Lord Corn wallis, was hung with elaborate mourn ing robes and, led by a groom, fol lowed quietly behind the coffin of his dead master, General George^ Wash ington. A true {Virginian, Washing ton was a splendid horseman : but be never settled his afiection ou any one horse. Two or three times be lost bis j horses in battle, and on one particu- i larly handsome white horse, Dolly, his j portrait was painted. , None of bis chargers weathered any number of severe engagements, as did Old Sorrel aud Traveler, the horses of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson, Traveler carried bis master through nearly all the battles at which he com mauded, was never himself wounded, and in mourning attended the general’s funeral. It is said he whinnied sadly when the coffin was borne before him, and shortly after in grazing about his peaceful pasture lie stuck a nail in his foot and died of lockjaw. He, like Cofienhagen, had honorable burial, aud, unlike mo.st warhorses, be lived out bis full allowance of fifteen years. It was on tbe back of Sorrel that Stonewall Jackson received his death Wound, and the plucky little horse then passed into the keeping of bis master’s father-in-law, a clergyman. In 1886 he died a death natural to vener¬ able horseflesh after having seen nearly ten terrible battles, aud bis body, very skillfully mounted, now stands in a .glass case in the library of the Sol¬ diers’ home, Virginia. There are very few American cliil dreu who do not know that General Sheridan’s most noted black warhorse was called Rienzi. He, too, outlive t j ail-tbe perils of war, not dying until aid JjjjTfi, when his body was mounted, now can be seen in tke^ museum j o® Governor’s island in New York jKfr i " ieral Andrew Jackson was an Ahorse lover, and three fine ®la.w ere always set aside for hia i e was with the army. Tra- j koer, does not s ‘*Ythatbe ' 1 i'f^|ftfmr™*fTirMB v Tr hanstesl and downhearted, were mak¬ ing forced marches along the heavy roads, he usually preferred to leave his saddle and march with the sol diers. General Fitzliugh Lee rode the handsomest horse in the confederate army—a thoroughbred mare named Nellie Grey. But, spite of her beauty and her Isold, brave spirit, poor Nellie f' 1 '! a f tbe ^ f_ tha battle of \v mebester.—]Sew v York Sim, I imperfect ly Understood* It is unfortunate that some teachers ®* ,, ,, 16 ^ U11 « £al1 . ., to . at . ^ . tbemael ., ™ 3 tbe Perceptions ot then- tender ? 1!U '«f ’ They are apt to shoot over tbea he ds . 11 aud tb eff ct ° tbe ' cherubs ? ’ as 18 were au tbm - S ? bene- , “ n y . 1 a .' * cb , At , °° , a so certal “? , . tm “ \ tast e r . a , S° Ead ,, the . „ f teacber nnt } , a ? talbed ; tbe > uiant “ !aSS , a P ou tbe e Y 1 s ct strong f drink. The little + tots f 1 aad 5 hstened attentively to a long tirade . against the rum demon. laa u e L ' 1 ' l ®5 cl *f 1 * v . me is a motkei. be cblldren pricked up then ears at . the.teacher ‘Wine + s vehemence. mocker! she cried is a again, like one of the prophets of old. Tbe children looked very grave in¬ deed. “Wineis a mocker!” cried the teacher for the third time,and then she turned and wrote the sentence in big letters on the blackboard. “Now, children,” she exclaimed, as she turned around, “I want you to tell me what wine is.” The little ones looked about va¬ cantly. “Wine is a mocker!” cried the teacher, “Now wbat is wine? first little boy.” Tbe first little boy looked thought fill. ^ uie-is-a-marker, lie drawled ‘ no ,>, 8ald tbe teaober ‘ N ext , “ f oy .* " lbe httle W looked . stlU ... more . , + 11 “Mine—is—a—market, , , „ , be veu tlu . e(1 “ Xo - ’ no >" ’ fidgeted »° the teacher, < 1Xext Iittle b The third little boy smiled. He was a self-confident little fellow. • f ‘Wine.....i«—-a—monkey ” heVi.ravely 'answered. * * * And then the teacher gave it up.— Cleveland Plain Dealer. Ducks Kill a Muskrat. A large Pekin duck, owned by Frank Lewis of New Hampton, N. Y., which has hatched out an early brood of ducklings, took them out on tbe VValkill for a first lesson iu the art of swimming. They had gone but a short distance from the shore when a muskrat seized one of the ducklings by the leg. Tbe squawk of fright which it gave as it was being drawn beneath tbe water attracted the atten¬ tion of the mother duck, and a few quick movements of her feet brought her to the spot in time to seize the muskrat by the tail. The muskrat, surprised by tbe at¬ tack, released its grip on the duck¬ ling and turned on tbe big duck. Tbe thick feathers of the duck protected it from the muskrat’s teeth, and its at¬ tacks produced so little effect that the duck did not release lier hold on the muskrat’s tail. The splashing of the water made by j.j, e combatants attracted tbe attun¬ tion of a big drake which was swim m j U g near, and it came up and assailed the muskrat with vicious blows of its strong beak. Tbe rat struggled des perately to escape, but the duck held jj. tast, and the drake rained blows U p 0[1 p until it ceased to struggle, qtie duck towed it ashore, and both birds peeked at it until they made sure was dead. Then the mother duck collected her brood, and tbe swimming lesson was resumed as if nothing had happened. The big drake, however, kept near, as if ready to be of service if the ducklings needed further protection.—Chicago Post, Tlie Gate of Castle William. All interesting story connected with the gate of Castle William, Governor’s Island, New York harbor, tbe only part of tbe fort still standing was told by Mrs. Gilman, wife of Captain Gil¬ man of tbe Thirteenth infantry. In 1799 a mau who was to be hung as a spy was confined in the castle. The commanding officer’s little daugh¬ ter became interested in him and found that he was a stone-carver. He offered to carve an ornamental piece to go over the gate of the sallyport, which was then being built, if sho could get him permission. She did, and. a reprieve was granted bim to finish it. When it was done, the child went to see the ornament put in its place, and while sho was standing net-r a rope broke in the hoisting and a hen *y pj ece of stone would have fallen Li d crushed her if the prisoner bad not | x-ushed forward and pushed her aside. His life was spared,of course, an( | the stone ornament surmounting the gate is all that is left to remind 01ie of beautiful story. A writer on the sight says that wear ing veils permanently weakens many naturally good eyes, on account of the endeavors of the eye to adjust itself to too arti.-lo of dress. NO. <1 A HAIR*TRI«iER TEMPER. Cjnseii f*.s Possessor an Unhappy Exfifrieiftff With a Blind Man. The hasty man fashions many * bit—' ter pill for his own consumption, and (he hair-trigger temper is almost al ways a boomerang to its. unhappy posa At the intersection of Pennsyl vania and New York awenpes a few afternoons ago there occurred an inoi dent that, implanted in the kindly heart of a well-known voting Washington mun a quality of shame that will un questionably serve as one o® the large* lessons of his life. The yout«g man, ac companied by the young woman who to become.bin wife next month, waa standing close to the curbstone at the junction of the two avenues awaiting; a Georgetown car. The two were chat¬ ting merrily. The girl was in high spirits, and her laughtei, the assonance of silvern bells, was pleasant music, Suddenly the young woman ceased her laughter, and looked with a flush of worrimenc in her expression, in the di¬ rection of a fine-looking and well dressed mun who was standing on the pavement, leaning slightly against aa awning pole. Her escort, perceiving the sudden change ill her manner and expression, also looked in the same di rection. “Why does that man gaze at me so strangely?” said the girl. "He has been looking at me with that same intent¬ ness ever since we have been stand¬ ing here, and sometimes half smiling, too. I am sur* i do not know him. What can he mean?” The young man with her flushed with anger as he looked upon the man point¬ ed out by his fiancee. The man, with big, clear gray eyes, was still regard¬ ing the girl with a deep intentness of expression, a smile bickering at the corners of his strong mouth. He lean¬ ed easily against tne awning pole, and carried a heavy cane loosely in his left hand. The girl saw' that her fiancee was becoming wrought up over the ap¬ parently persistent and flirtatious star* of the man. jd . - .. Qh neV er mind,” she said. y’Prob ably he thinks he knows me. Perhaps indeed, he has met me somewhere.” ‘ Nothing of the sort, was the reply, ‘The fellow is a masher, pure and dmule. f. lesson. The'6hjuef~of the" conversation ..... k«Bt . his gaze riveted upon the face of the woman, even whei the latter'ij fiance approached him ‘menacingly - Hie young fellow, a powerful man, raised his right arm, and, wit ' all of his force, struck the man with clear gray eyes on the right side of the face with a heavy open palm. The marks of his fingers stood out readily ou the oheek of the man he had struck. “I’ll teach you, you loafer, to ogle young women on the stieet," said the young man as he delivered the blow. The expression tln.t appeared on the face of the older man, immediately he felt the impact of uie blow, was almos t^ inconceivably pathetic. He started and then turned very pale. “Man,” he said in a very low tone. ‘I am stone blind.” No one who witnessed the scene is likely to forget it, nor can any of the witnesses: think of the really pitable grief of the young chap who struck the blow without feeling for him. He fairly took the blind man in his arms in the frenzy of his expostulation. The blind man generously made light of it all, but he could not mitigate the heavy humiliation of the hot-headed young man. “I heard the laughter of a young woman,” said the blind man, quietly. “It reminded me of the voice in mer¬ riment of a girl I knew before my sight was taken. That is why I turned in the direction whence the laughter came.” Then a lad, in the livery of a “but¬ tons,” emerged from the drug store into Which his master had seut him on an errand, and taking the blind man by the hand, led him carefully up 15th Street. The men and women who saw and heard it all felt almost as sorry for the naturally generous but foolishly impetuous young man who had struck the blow as they did for the blind man. —Washington S!:;r. GEORGIA RAILROAD. . * -A IV X>— Connections. For Information as to Routed, Sched> —ules and Rates, Both— Passenger and Freight Write to either of the undersigned. Yon will receive prompt reply and reliable information.* JOE. W, WHITE, A. G. JACKSO ■ T. P. A. G. P. A. Auwusta ( Gra, 8. W. "WILKES, H. K. NICHOLSON. C. F. & P. A. G. A. Atlanta. * Athene. W. W. HARDWICK, S. E. MAGIL&, S. A. 0. F. A. Macon. Maooa. M. R. HUDSON, F. W. COFFIN, ’ S. F. A. S. F. & P. A. { Milledgeyille . Augusta,