Newspaper Page Text
be finnrln Ho Mu ■;m
.)v
f -
II r ^
kS A L ' :
VOL. VI.
An Infant in its cradle slept.
And And in its sleep it smiled—
To one by one three women knelt
M kiss the falr-halred child; •
^ And each thought of the days to be
And breathed a prayer half silently.
One poured her love on many lives,
But knew love’s toil and care;
Its burdens oft had been to her
A heavy weight to bear;
She •Not stooped hardened and hands, murmured dear lovingly,
thee.” child,
“A VERY NARROW ESCAPE.”
BY HELEN FOBBEST GRAVES. '
THINK, mem,”
-fit said S al i n a,
“there's a man in
the wood-shed, a
0; {Ji hiding hisself.”
1*4 “No n s e n s el”
said Fanny Clif¬
ford, who was too
) much accustomed
to Salina’s sights
and mysteries to
pay muoh attention
to them. “Who
should be in the wood-shed? and what
should he be there for?”
“For no good mem, you may be
very sure,” said Salma compressing
ter ! pS ; E a U fc 1 P ttel ', g0
over to Mifton - s and borrow u their big
og
“Certainly not! said .. Fanny, T , , lean
. ba ° k that ™ YA, last blue aU ' splash , T on 6 the R
petals of the ins that she was painting
m water colors. 'You said there was
a tramp hidden in the coal-cellar last
week; and day before yesterday you
had Mrs. Mitton s hired man up with
a lantern to go. through the barn, be
cause you were certain some one was
* i5ere ’
“And I’m certain of it now, mem,”
said Salina, standing very straight,
with her elbows tightly grasped in
both hands. “But Josiab, he’s that
stupid, a coach-and-four could ha’
driven out before him mysterious and he not sounds see
it. AnR as lor the
in the coal-cellar, mem, how was I to
know that it was the cat knockin
down six hyacinth-glasses? Noise is
noise, whoever makes it. But this
time, mem, I’m morally certain.”
“Oh, don’t tease me!” said Fanny,
adding a touch more of ultra-marine
to the extremest edge of her flower.
A “We may be all murdered iu our
gloomily observed Salina,
“with Mrs, Dedbrook’s diamonds in
the house; and I’m most sure the
letter which told you they was to be
sent here was tampered with!”
“Oh, Saliua, don’t be so ridiculous!”
said Fanny. Mr. George ain’t
y “You know a
comin’ home to-night,” added Salina.
“Why, of course I know it! Didn’t
you hear him tell me so?” retorted her
mistress,
.“And me, and you, aud Miss Abby
isf all alone in the house!” persisted
’-'life woman.
’ “Yes,” said Fanny, absently.
“Salina, you may make us a little
chocolate for supper, and broil those
trout Mr. George brought in; and as
it’s a chilly evening, Salina, we will
have some nicely browned griddle
cakes, with maple syrup. ”
V Salina tossed her head.
f “Well, mem, just as you please,”
said she. “Only don’t say as you
haven’t been warned.”
“No, Salina, I won’t,” said Miss
with indifference.
The two Misses Cliftord and then
Brother had remained longer at the
old stone house than usual, this
.autumn. Ordinarily it had been then
home for the three summer months
ever since old Uncle Griftth Griffiland
had died, and bequeathed it to them.
■The furniture was old; the odd little
three-cornered rooms were small and
inconvenient; large pine trees shut
• put the daylight from the lozenge
Shape windows; but in spite ox all
jbhese disadvantages the air of ‘ an
. lingered around the
ctuntry” that
place was very enticing, and George
Clifford decided that he could do his
writing at Tower Pines as well as in
the city; while Fanny and Abby, a
brace of very enthusiastic young ar
tists, delighted in a circular-walled
studio, where they could have a fire in
the great, open chimney-place, and
there was a north window overlooking
the" distant shimmer of the sea. So
here they were, now that the chiu
-winds of early November were shak
ing the last brown leaves off the trees,
to the infinite disgust of Salina, the
superstitious, who much preferred a
city flat.
Tbat domestic damsel had just van
bed down the winding stairs, which
/Ae deckred were destined some
time or ocher to be the death ol her,
i «-bro.vn eje., and . tap »•»**
her lelt arm.
It was too dark to work longer upon
the blue irises, and Fanny was sitting
in a reverie before the red glow of the
**• si8 “
THREE PRAYERS.
One had not known the burdened hands,
But knew the empty heart:
At life’s rich banquet she had sat,
An unfed guest, apnrt;
“Oh not,” she whispered tenderly,
“An empty heart, dear child, for thee.’
And one was old; she had known care,
•She had known loneliness;
She knew God leads us by.no path
His presence cannot bless;
She smiled and murmured trustfully,
“God’s will, dear ohild, God’s will"for
tbee!”
—Kate Tucker Goode, in the Alkahest.
“I’ve got it, Fan!” said Abby, wav¬
ing the bundle around in the air.
“The whole suit, complete, with the
dearest old canvas hat into the bar¬
gain. They used to belong to Mr.
Mifton’s uncle, who was a whaler,
and finally died at sea-—his Sundav
suit.”
“Is it too late to dress him up?”
said Fanny, with animation.
“But he’s down in the library.”
“Well, we’ll go there,” said Fanny.
“We can work there as well as in the
studio; and we shall run less risk of
Salina’s interference. Salina never
can forge t that we are no longer little
girIs of teu and twelve .»
The supper served up * in the little
vonnd room) before th dying gleam
of the logs, was exceptionally nice,
Fanny and Abby were in exuberant
s P irits - and Poised the chocolate,
trout and griddle cakes with enthu
siasm . Salina was as lo as
prophetess
» T only hope we shal] get through
this night alive,” said she.
But as she bad made the same
mark> on an average, three hundred
out of the three hundred and sixty
five days of the year, neither Fanny
nor Abby paid much attention to it.
But as she passed out, with the last
dish from the table, Salina paused
close to Fanny Clifford, and asked, in
a sepulchral whisper:
‘ ‘ 'I 1 Hey 'are i n ’ SycTe s k ? ” said. Fanny,
indifferently.
Salina lifted her eyes skyward.
“In your desk?” she groaned.
Hadn’t I better take ’em and put ’em
d nder my pillow?”
“Certainly not,” her young mistress
answered, sharply. “Do, Salina, leave
me to manage my own affairs'!”
And Salina vanished in a liuff.
“I'll'go to bed early,”''she ain’t said
grimly, to herself. “It no use
settin.’ up to look arter the goods of
people as won’t take no trouble for
themselves.”
But just as she was about to ascend,
with a candle, Lady Macbeth like, to
her.room, she suddenly paused.
“Then three hemstitched haudke
chers o’ mine are out on the grass, a
bleaching,” she said to herself. “And
the black clouds in the west mean
wind. I don’t want themhandkechers
blowed away. I’ll go out and fetch
’em in.”
Carefully unbolting three bolts and
unlocking one ponderous lock, Salina
sallied forth, shading the candle with
her hand;.but the first puff jof freezing,
pine-perfumed air blew the little flame
out.
Undaunted hy this mishap, liow
ever Salina went valiantly oat, feel
j ng ber way through the cloudy star
j- bt until she was opposite the wood
shed.
“I guess I’ll go in and cross over
tbat Avay >• sbe thought.
Bu t as she was turning in the in
tended direction a light suddenly
dasbed ou t—the reddish glow of a
tantern> tbat waa almost instantly ob
scured by the alide .
“Gracious!” thought Salina, step
• bao k, in her terror and amazement.
, “0 on f ound you!” muttered a gruff
Toiee _ the identical voice of Mifton’s
b j red man _ “Wbat did you want to
sbow a ii gb t for?”
“The slide was rusty,” apologized a
secoad TO j ce . < ‘it don’t matter—there
is no one but oa ts and grasshoppers to
ge0 ufJ The last window was dark
ened j Come on; Vm flt to
rish w f th cold and cramp i a that
outlandish hole. Let’s get the matter
over w itb.”
Aad wb ;i e Salina was striving to
overcome the terrible weight on her
cbest sufficiently to cry out or make
some sign, two dark figures slunk past
ber like the procession in a hideous
dream 4-hich and vanifbed through a cellar
doori she could have sworn she
bad sa f e ]y J secured .early in the even
-
*
Eecoveri her senses as fast as she
could she hurried through the long,
’ f the two help
sg t0 the rescue 0
b ^ in tbe old bouse .
« I alway3 knoW ed it would bo so,”
ht _ 4 . 0h dear _oh, dear; it
car*-~-*-*« rith
m 4,10 iSEgta do .vnna 0 g to P of »n old
grape-vine and nearly wrenched it oi
of joint, But at last she reached the
• green space m fi out of one ooi, j
1 ttumbitos £
“To thine own self be true,and it will follow, as night the day, thou cans’tnot then be false to any man, ”
LINCOLNTON, GA.. THUKSDAV, MARCH 2,1899.
ping their lantern in their frantic
haste.
“You fool!” muttered the man who
had carried the light," “why didn’t
you tell me there was a man about the
place—a great, burly sailor, with a
cutlass half as long as himself? You
told me the coast was clear!”
“As I live and breathe,” whined
Mifton’s hired man, “I never knew of
the fellow; I don’t know how he came
there; I can’t understand it at all;
I - ”
“Don’t stand here fooling,” savage¬
ly uttered the other, “The whole
neighborhood will be in an uproar
directly. Clear out! Through the
shed is the best place!”
But Salina was too prompt for
them. Before they could escape she
had securely locked and bolted both
the shed doors on the outside and
fastened the solid shutters of its soli¬
tary window. And then she rushed
to the house and ran shrieking up the
stairway to where Abby and Fanny,
with shivering forms, stood on the
landing.
“Salina, what is it?" cried Fanny.
“What is it, Salina?” reiterated
Abby.
“We’re all robbed and murdered!”
screamed Saliha. “That is, we would
have been, if it hadn’t been for that
sailor with the cutlass. And how he
ever made his way into the house it
beats me to tell.’’
Abby and Fanny burst into hysteri¬
cal laughter.
“It’s the model,” aaid Fanny.
The lay figure dressed up as a sail¬
or in old Deodatus Mifton’s Sunday
clothes, with the rusty sword that be¬
longed to the suit of armor,” breathed
Abby. “Down in the library we ar¬
ranged him to-night so that we could
begin to sketch him for our naval
battle scene early to-morrow,”
“Well I never!” said Salina. “I
do b’lieve he’s saved our lives; they
thought he was alive aud was half
scared to death. Now I’m a-goin’ 1 to
ring the big bell for help."
And a rusted bell, which had hung
out of the window for half a hundred
years, ready to be rung in some such
possible emergency as this, presently
flung forth its deep-toned warning in
the silence of the November night,
pulled by Salina’s energetic arms. •
Aid arrived in a marveks
Tver's Xpf
prison. ing until Old they Squire could Be^||g^ Mifton, wlh.
...
more amazed than any one else, at the
novel accomplishment dev^lopqd Aie *by
his hired man, remained at lonely
house all night, to protect the two
young ^artists and laughed very .heart¬
ily when he saw the naval dummy
which had served so good a turn in
frightening off the oowardly thieves.
George Clifford resolved not; to
leave his sisters alone again until the
removal to the New York flat was an
accomplished fact. As for Salina, she
had now a valid excuse to traverse the
whole house with a lantern two or
three times a night whenever she
pleased, and set np a watch dog and' a
burglar alarm. ' •:
“It was a very narrow escape,” said _
Salina, “and there’s no tellin’ when
it may happen again.” — Saturday
Night.
Tlie Turtle Came Back.
It is a superstition of some impor¬
tance among the Chinese that he who
saves a turtle and allows it to go free
upon the sea will enjoy good fortune.
In accordance with this practice,; a
wealthy Macao bought a turtle tlyis
morning from a Malay fisherman, who
had caught it in his fishing stakes off
Tanjong Tokong. The price was $5.
The purchaser Droceeded to scrape
the back of the turtle so as to prepare
an even surface for his name to be
engraved upon the shell, when he
discovered his name already engraved
on the animal’s baek, and then re¬
membered he had made a consignment
to the sea some months before, The
turtle was therefore his own property,
and he at once pursued the Malay and
claimed a return of the $5. The fish¬
erman declined, and the Macao was
obliged to content himself with the
recovery of the turtle, which he forth¬
with, iu his rage, proceeded to kill,
as being the cause of a loss to him of
$5.—Pinang (China) Gazette.
^ lk!l K * K "i at,0 “"*
A set of regulations, intended , to
distinguish the Sikhs of India lrre
voeably from those around them, was
the rule of the Five Kakkas. Every
Sikh must have with him five things
beginning with the letter k, viz.: kesa
(long hair), kangha (a comb), karada
(a knife), kirapana (a sword), and
kacha (breeches reaching to the knee).
The purpose of these rules was that
every Sikh should avoidshaving, as
do i Mohammedans and Hindus, and
should be constantly armed and free
from the long garments that might im
ped ai m m a flglit.
GoM-uearinc Gizzard or a Duck.
Frank Kentledge, who with several
friends has leased the shooting rights
0 n a ranch facing the Columbia River
i&rvxzz
g.Wd of'.aid(hot a»<l bin it on
.kihiHon ‘ The sold is probably worth
Eoutled^e ^chTne in going ami
g ° hat°duck baok to
. , t
s&m*
Irrigation For Fruit.
I believe that apple and plum trees
will bear full crops every year if they
are amply supplied with water and
manure. Two years ago I put up a
wind pump for irrigating which raised
120 barrels of water an hour in a good
breeze. Having plenty of water at
hand T put 10,000 barrels of water on
half an acre of plum orchard and about
the same amount on the apple orchard.
I had a large crop of both kinds of
fruit that year. This season, where I
irrigated moss the previous one, I
had a full crop of plums and where I
irrigated least only a few. Where I
did not irrigate I had nothing at all.
It is exactly the same with the apples.
My orchard land is pure sand. In
dry seasons it suffers very muoh from
drouth, the plums and apples falling
off badly.—Henry Wade, of Nova
Scotia, in Orange Judd Farmer.
Farming From Experience.
Every farmer learns much each
year about his business by the ex¬
perience he gains. It is the most
valuable knowledge, provided the
farmer has learned to discriminate as
to the true cause of success or failure.
It will at least teach twice the capacity
of his own soil and location. While
farmers read with interest what other
farmers have done in other localities,
it does not affect them as does de¬
cided success or failure in their own
neighborhood. What one man in
any do locality has done others may also
if they have like soil and condi¬
tions. Almost all the special crops
that are grown in certain neighbor¬
hoods are the result of experiments
made at first with much doubt, but
when proved a success, inciting others
to imitate the example. In such case
the pioneer who introduces such crops
benefits the entire neighborhood
quite as much as himself. He is not
injured by the competition of his
neighbors, for whatever the farmer
gr^rs there is sure'to be so large a
for ^ production of a
|HM®fe|ite|&.fi 2 ipha 8 er 8 from a
: scale, if'jpyviP cannot fatter create on such how
rlii
a hfmemarket.— American Cultivator.
A Portable Fence.
Iu locations where fences are neces¬
sary for keeping pigs or sheep within
bounds or for enclosing small areas of
land the portable fence here illustra¬
ted is a great convenience. This fence
is made of boards or slats, and the
best material is cheapest both for posts
and slats. The panels are eight feet
long, nailed to uprights two inches
square. The tops of the uprights are
beveled so that they join closely
together when the spread at the bot-
1
A CHEAP AND USEFUL FENCE.
tom is as desired. The fence may be
made with three, four or five boards,
according to the use to which it is to
be put. In making a three-board
fence, if a barbed .wire is used at the
top, two feet spread at the bottom will
be sufficient, though for a taller fence
two and a half feet spread will be bet¬
ter. In setting the fence in a location
where high winds prevail, a stake may
be driven in the ground at every third
or fourth panel, set so that it will come
flat against the boards and be nailed
iu that position. By placing the ground lower
hoard fifteen inches from the
and plowing a furrow each side of the
fence, banking it up to the board,
tewer slats will be required. This ar¬
rangement leaves a depression about
eight inches deep three feet from the
fence on either side of it, into whioh
the animal’s forefeet will go,and place
him in a position where he cannot
readily jump.—Atlanta .Journal.
For Spring Chickens,
Q ur modern methods of living are
changing our farming in many par
Oculars. The demand is now for
eal .j y a p r ing lamb and ehickena in
p ebrnary aud March. Early spring
cb i ckens bav e to be raised in the
w j aker seasoD) and to do this requires
„ cer tain expert knowledge that is the
pric0 of sucoesg ,
Sp ing chi ke at fifty cents a
are profitable, and even at much
less than this one can find money in
the business. Besides, it gives the
poultry grower work to do at what is
generally considered a azy season of
.k
etisk to th. bo.t.u tr.ckfI are the ..a
j I who never make a But great deal out will o-.
their enterprise. every one chick
not succeed in raising spring
ens, and it is well that this is so, for
overdone. It takes shrewd bnsines
tact, exact knowledge, to make the
work profitable.
In the first place one must have a
warm house suitable for the chickens.
It does not take a large one to accom¬
modate 100 chickens, but it must be
warm, well ventilated aud even in
temperature. This is the first,re¬
quisite. The house should be located
so that it will receive the sun through
the glass most of the day. The sit¬
ters must be selected for their success
in hatching eggs, and those that show
an inclination to neglect the eggs
should be discarded. The sitters must
be fed separately when off the uest so
they will not be bothered and worried
by the others.
The sitting house should be darker
than the main room, and the nests
should be arranged in rows. Each hen
will learn to know her own nest. Water
as well as food must be provided the
hens daily. When the chicks are
hatched they must be kept together in
small colonies free from cold winds
and storms. They must be kept grow¬
ing all the time, and good food, water
and clean surroundings will accomplish
this. Warm mush, bread, oatmeal and
scraps from the table should be their
chief daily diet. New hatchings should
be made all of the time, so that
younger chicks will take the place of
those sent to market. It is astonish¬
ing how many can be raised in a small
house by hatching out new broods
every two weeks, and by spring one
will find more profit than can be made
from the old chickens all through the
year;
A CACTUS C HRIST MAS TREE.
Used by One of Our Ite&rituents Stationed
Near Havana.
There is soiftething strangely pa¬
thetic in the news that one of our
regiments stationed near Havana used
a big cactus as a Christmas tree, and
hung presents on the ungainly plant’s
cruel spines. Of course the cactus is
admirable in its way—admirable as
showing Skillful adaptation to the un¬
toward circumstances of rocky soiL
and a burning sun; but the cactus is
not beautiful or graceful, and its asso¬
ciations are all heathenish, savage,
and uncomfortable. The real Christ¬
mas tree iB always a fir, though hem¬
lock, spruces, cedars, and even pities
who impaled their gifts on the thorns
of one of the sprawling monsters must
have been very homesick indeed when
they did it. All trees in the tropics
pretend to be evergreen, 1 but it is a
pretense that deceives nobody who
ever saw a Northern forest, and no
wonder our exiles rejected trees alto¬
gether. They chose a vegetable 'that
isn’t one thing or another, that .'jum¬
bles stem and leaf into a single un¬
couth device for storing water, and
fiercely resents the approach of man
or beast. It showed that the men
were unwilling to compromise with
their ideals; and that, having no tree
worthy of this honor, they preferred
to emphasized their appreciation of
that fact by constraining an obstinate
anomoly to play a genial role for once.
It must be said for the cacti that many
of them have gorgeous flowers, and
one species provides a beverage that
is regarded in some lands aB potable
—it at least brings forgetfulness of
Spanish rule and that of military dic¬
tators—while other kinds lead to the
very permanent investment of foreign
capital in fibre-extracting machinery.
But the cactus as a Christmas tree!
This is heart-breaking.—New York
Times.
Overcrowding: in London.
A correspondent writes to us to say
that the last report of the Housing
Committee very gravely understates
the urgency of the housing problem
in London: He gives the following
startling figures: that in 1891 the
“The report says
census discloses that 214,843 persons
lived in one-roomed tenements. This
is minimizing the evil with a ven¬
geance. There were 386,489 so hor
riblv crowded. The report says that
128,000 persons lived from four to
twelve in a room. This. true of
one-roomed tenements, but other ten¬
ements were equally crowded, and
the census proved that no less than
184,800 persons lived from four to
twelve and even seventeen to a room.
Further, the census disclosed that
there were no less than 1,750,000 who
lived in tenements containing one or
two, and in no ease more than three
rooms to each family of from one to
twelve, and that over 2,000,000 lived
in an overcrowded condition.”
These figures are appalling, but even
if they exceed the truth, there can be
little doubt that the action resolved on
by the Council will come not a day too
soon.
A Portland Wreck Story.
Here’s another coincidence with
the loss of the Portland. A sea cap¬
tain tells thaf right after the steamer
was built he was given a large picture
of her. It was framed and covered
with glass and quite heavy. He hung
it in his parlor and never took it
down (luring these years. The Sun¬
day when the Portland w-ent. down he
and his wife were sitting in the parlor
reading, when suddenly the picture
fell with a crasn, smashing the glass
into a thousand pieces.—Portland
. (Me.) Express. .................
NO. 39.
SPANIARDS SHOT WOUNDED.
. *>•;
The Dressing Station at the Bloody Ford of
San Juan.
As the wounded lay under the low,
sheltering bank at the ford of the San
Juan during the charge up the hill,
the bullets came singing incessantly
by, with a sound something like the
quick momentary hum of a large mos¬
quito, clipping the leaves from th«
trees in their flight, and allowing them
slowly to flutter down in the faces ot .
the men; then splashing into the credit
would bury themselves in its bed. At
times they fell so thickly for short in¬
tervals that it appeared ns though it
were raining. To vary the excitement
an occasional shrapnel would comt
tearing through the trees above ua,
smashing limbs, and dropping splint!
ers and branches all about us. Men
coming up the road from the rear t<
join the firing-line were frequently
wounded right in the creek whllt
crossing it, aud it was often necessary
to wade out and get them before they
Crowned, as many of them surely
would have done otherwise. Now and
then a wounded horse would plungs
through the station; and one poor ani¬
mal, bleeding profusely from his side,
dropped half way across the creek;
and drowned and bled to death sim¬
ultaneously. His struggles to gain q
footing and keep his head above watet
were pitiful to see. A number of tin
staff and field horses were killed closq
by the station. Some dropped dead is
their tracks; others, frantic, plunged
and broke their halters and disappear¬
ed in the brush to die. To add to tb»
feeling of insecurity about this place}
it was but a very short time befor*
shots very close at hand were heard
from time to time, and bullets fell
among us, apparently from above and
behind us. There was no natural pro¬
tection from that side, and the only
solution of this problem that we could
arrive at was that we were being shot
at from the trees. There were sev¬
eral very large ones with dense foli¬
age close by. Such, we found after¬
wards, was really the case. We wer*
being made targets of by the Spanish
sharp-shooters. It was quite a iasK
to reassure the wounded that they
were in no danger where they were ti
they would only lie quietly. After it* .
any signs of life in them, at .
sionaliy pointed out to one anothei
what they thought were living being*
hidden in the foliage.—Captain. Georg*
J. Newgarden, in Harper’s Weekly.
Wuol lor bflglaad.
Every year between 480,000.000 and
500,000,000 founds of Australian wool
are imported into Gvaat Britain. There
are also imports from South Africa.
South America and other countries,
making the total annual importation
about 800.000,000 pounds. More than
half of this vast quantity of raw ma¬
terial is retained for home manufne- -
ture, but we let more than half the
colonial wool go abroad. The Austra¬
lian wools are among the finest, and
are much sought after hy Continental
manufacturers, Every country, al
most every district, has its own kind
of wool. It depends on breed and cli¬
mate, the character of the country,
and the mature of the pasturage. The
dry climate and short herbage of the
Australian colonies produce the finest
fleeces.
Wool vomes from the prairies of
South America full of burrs, and a
coarse quality is produced in South
Africa. The condition of the wool as
imported is also, of course, a prime
element in price, which depends oa
whether it is “greasy” or “scoured,”
‘skirt.v’ or stringy, fatty or earthy. The
wants of manufacturers are as varied
as the qualities of wool. Buyers at the
exchange know exactly what they
want, and can estimate to a nicety
what they ought to pay for It.-Good
Words.
The monkey wrench gets its name
from its inventor, Thomas Monkey of
Bordentown. N. J.
GEORGIA RAILROAD.
..A IX I>
Connections.
For Information as to Routes, Sohed*
—ules and Rates, Both—
Passenger and Freight
Write to either of the undersigned.
You will receive prompt reply »n<
reliable information.
JOE. W. WHITE, A. G. JACKSON,
T. P. A. G. P. A.
Augusta, Gro
S. W. WILKES, H. K. NICHOLSON,
C. F. & P. A. G. A.
Atlanta. Athene.
W. W. HARDWICK, S. E. MAGILt*
S. A. C, F. A.
Macon. Macon. .
HUDSON, F. W. COFFIN, ■M
M. R. F. P. A.
S. F. A. S. &
| JdiUedgeTiU* Augusta. ,
m m
43S
