Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

VOLUME VII. Professional Cards. ROBERT A. MASSEY, ATTORNEY'AT LAW DOUGLASVILLE, GA. (Office in front popm, Dprsett’a Bnikling.) Will practice anywhere except in'the Count? Court of Douglass county. Wr ATjIMES, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Will practice in all the couifs, State au Federal. Office on Conn House Square, » DOUGLASVILLE, GA. Bwm. t.roberts, ATTORNEY AT LAW, DOUGLASVILLE, GA. Will practice in all the Courts. All lega business will receive prompt attention. Office in Qourt House. T&CAMP, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Civil Engineer and Surveyor, DOUGLASVILLE, - - GEORGIA. OTIRiGGS; ATTORNEY AT LAW, DOU3LASVILLE, GA. Will practice in all the courts, State and Federal. johnm, edge, ATTORNEY AT LAW, DOUGLASVILLE, GA. Will practice in all the courts, and promptly attend to all business entrusted to his care. J S JAMES? ATTORNEY AT LAW, DOUGLASVILLE, GA. Will practice in the courts of Douglass, Campbell, Carroll, Paulding, Cobb, Fulton and adjoining counties. Prompt attention given to all business JOHN V EDGE. ATTORNEY AT LAW; DOUGLASVILLE, GA. w DR. T, R. WHITLEY, . Physician and Surgeon DOUGLASVILE, GA. Special attention to Snrgery nnd Chroain Dis eases in either sex. 4 Office Upstairs in Dorsett’*- Brick Building. P. S. VERDERY, Physician and Surgeon Office at HUDSON A EDGE’S Drug Store, where he can be found at all hours.*except when professionally engaged. Special atten tion given' to Chronic eases, and especially all cases that have bo<n treated.and aro. still wnenred. ! _ fcnimy , 1 RESPECTFULLY offer my services as phy -1 aiclan and Surgeon to the people of Doug lassville and Vicinity. AU calls will bo attended °* n ** foun ‘ l tbo tirug Store ol ftmoli A EDGE, during the day, and at night at my residence, at the house recently occupied by J. A. Pittman. J. B. EDGE. DENTISTRY. •T. ZR. COOK, DENTAL SIMEON, Has located in Douglaaaville. Twenty years' ■ eiperienee. Dentistry in all Ha branebas done in the moat approver! style. Office over Post office. T. $. BUTLER, HOUSE PAINTER. DOUGLASVILLE, GA. Will n»xa old Furniture look as well as new. Give him a trial in thia line. Will also do house carpeote't ittg work, OH! HALLOW! DON’T YOU KNOW ? WELL, IT’S SOI You can get your I.timber Dreaaed ; get Moulding, Brackets, Banisters, Ticket*, Turned and Scroll W irk Cheaper at Dujlsdli Plaasg Mil Than at any other mill in Georgia C. T. PARKER. ®ft ft ft tilt E <B E Plt iW WTar HOW THEY MAKE LOVE IN TEXAS l am waiting in the meadow While the evening shadows fall; Whi!p the sunset’s golden splendors Fade away beyond - recall. ' ' OJer the earth a dewy fragrance Flings a mantle, sparkling, bright, , Quivering with- an Untold beauty, Flashing back the waning light. 1 . Meet me, darling, I ani waiting ’ , ’Neath the sighing aspen tree; Round me winds of evfe are Whimpering- to my heart of thee. Hasten ! On my lips are burning Words I would to thee impart; Truest love, and hope are beating In my restless, throbbing heart. Now the dark’ning world is sleeping, Resting from all grief and care; Now the silent stars are gleaming On her tranquil bosom fair; But my heart is growing weary, And a pang akin to woe Steals upon me in the gloaming, While the shadows come and go. But I knowyou will be faithful, Well I know you will be time; In your heart a kindred feeling, Like the love I bear to you. So I’ll cease from all repining, Banish every doubt and fear, * For through the fragrant gloaming I can feel your presence near. Bessie Smith. The Sacrifice. Frank Gordon was lazily stretched upon a sofa in his sister’s luxurious sit ting-room, and the two were discussing a party given by Mrs. Hale th© pre vious evening, in honor of her brother’s recent arrival from California, after six years’ absence. >:“Lil.,” Frank said, trying to speak indifferently, and failing most lament ably, ‘'l missed one face I fully expected to see last evening—Ruth Wellford’s.” “Ruth Wellford’sl” cried Mrs. Hale, .in accents-of sueprwe. “Ruth at a party ! ■ But I forget you have been away for six years. Why, Frank, she must have been a mere child then.” “Sixteen, and the sweetest, fairest girl I ever knew. We were always good friends, Lily, though we did not corre spond, and I have carried her face and voice in my heart in many a weary hour.” “I mu sorry.” “Why ? You speak as if something dreadful had occurred to her. She is not dead nor havo I beard of her mar riage. What is it, then, that makes you cry out with amazement at the sug gestion of her presence at yotit party ?” “It is a long story, Frank.” “You have all the morning to tell it.” “When you went away Ruth’s uncle was still alive. ” “Certainly.” “He died in that same year. You say you remember Ruth. Then you re member that she was not only pretty, modest and refined, but one of the most generous girts in our whole circle of friends. She had’a handsome allowance from hex, uncle, and she spent It freely, dressing exquisitely and giving in charity or friendly gifts frequently.” “Well?” said Frank, impatiently, as his sister paused. “Her unele died, and left her the house he had lived in for years, and a dear income of 53,000.” Again Mrs. Hale paused, and then said suddenly; “Well, Frank, since she became rich in her own right, Ruth has become the slave of money, a thorough miser!'’ “Impossible!” “It is true. The first thing she did was to rent the cJd house, furniture and all, to the Whitings, who were glad enough to get it, for jtylish houses, with such grounds as that one has are scarce here. She moved herself to that miserable little cottage where old Mer cer lived so Icing, and there she livee with one servant, an old woman, who was with her mother from her girlhood, they say. You know Mr. Wellford was very reticent about Ruth, and there is little known of her life before she came here, a child of five years old. But she live® with Martha, the old servant, in that tiny cottage, furnished from the old house with the poorest of the furni ture. She wears the cheapest, plainest clothing, and does every stitch of her own sewing. She seldom goes out, but invariably walks, the carriage and horses hieing rented with the house. Living on the meanest faro, she actually sells the extra vegetables from the garden, eggs and poultry. “But why, LiL ? What is the expla nation of such a change ?” 5 "What can it be but pure avance? She has not a relative in the world, and she must be hoarding up the money somewhere.” "It is very strange! I suppose I may calL” "I cannot tell yoa that Since she prefers to dross and lire like a pauper, hat old trtends have ceased to call upon her or invite her to their roceptioßa. FAAVMNG TO NONE-CH jVJRITY TO ALL. DOUGLASVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JUNE 9. 1885. She will be a catch some day for a for tune-hunter if she continues to live a miser’s life, but I imagine you would prefer a less sordid soul, even if its pos sessor had not one dollar to call her own.” “You. are right! lam rich enough to care nothing for a wife’s dower, but I cannot realize little Ruth sordid, miserly' and grasping.. I must call once, Lilly!' Perhaps the dream of six long years may be shattered by the reality of such a change, but it will be a bitter wak ing.” “Did you love her so much. Frank ?” “So much that I asked her uncle to let me hope to win her love in return. He told me she was such a mere child he did not wish her studies interrupted or her mind disturbed then, but that if I loved her on my return, he would not oppose my wooing. I was not a rich man then, Lil., only possessing what was an easy income for a single man, so I acquiesced in his decision. But the fortune I have made was made for her, and the hope of six years has been that 7 on coming home to find her free, and my little, loving Ruth. She did love me, Lily, though she scarcely knew what Jove meant. Well,” and he sighed heavily, ‘‘l had better have stayed here! I kept my secret, thinking she would be here last night to give me welcome home; but you know now why my heart was not at your party, Lil., though I was so glad to meet old friends.” Mrs. Hale had noword to express her deep sympathy. She pressed her lips softly upon the handsome face, shadowed by her story, and Frank, re turning the mute caress, rose and left the room. It was agony to wait now. Better to have the final wrench and go on his way again without the lost hope. He nerved himself to see a slatternly woman in a squalid house, and by the time he reached the cottage to which Lily directed him, he would have scarcely been surprised if he had met Ruth in rags, selling matches or beg ging pennies. But the little cottage before which he paused, at last, though a sufficiently strong contrast, to the Wellford place where he had last seen Ruth, looked cozy and homelike. The garden was 1 neatly kept and well filled with late fall flowers. An old woman answered his knock, and-ushered him into a tiny par lor, where the plain ' fnrpituze, cheap carpets and inexpensive ornaments ; in exquisite order, and where a little cottage piano stood open in one corner. Before he had waited a moment a little figure in a print .dress and linen collar, with short glossy curls, and a fair sweet face, came ,in to the room. He forgot his sister, the painful story, everything but the fact that Ruth was there. A graver, paler Ruth than the one he had left, but the one woman in the world who could stir his heart to - its corel ' s«- - »• • • •end then-drawing back, for there was no welcome in the face he loved, only I a look of suppressed pain. “Ruth, are you not glad to. see me ?” he cried. “Glad !” she murmured, and then the forced calmness broke down and the tears rained down her cheeks. “Glad I” she cried again. “Oh, Frank, I have lost every fricud, and you will go, too, when you know all!” “I have heard ” he began. “You have heard of my stinginess, my miserly habits—-yes, I see you have, and yet you are here ?” “Because I am sure you have’some good reason for your conduct Tell me you are not changed, Ruth !” “I—l scarcely know.” “When we parted,” he said, “you knew the hope in my heart, Ruth. Tell me now if the love you promised me is mine ?” “It is all yours, Frank, but ” and she drew back from the embrace he I would have given—“you may throw it away when you hear my secret I have hidden it from every one but you, but to-day I am freed from a bondage of six long years, and you have a right to hear ! what I shall confide to no one else. You ; will not betray my sorrowful secret, Frank ?” “Whatever trust you put in me shall be sacred, Ruth,” he answered, gravely, awed by a solemnity upon her face and in her voice, r There was silence in the little parlor for some moments betore the low, sweet voice was heard again. Then steadily, without faltering, Ruth told her story: “When you left me, Frank, a careless, hsippy child, the shadow of what I must tell you now had not fallen across my 4 life. I knew that I was an orphan, and that my mother die<l away from Jier home and friends. But I was still a mere baby when Uncle Wellford came i for me and took me home. They called me Huth Wellford, and I never thought of my right to the name till my uncle died. Upon his death bed he told me the story of my mother’is life. She was married against the wishes of her family to a man whose only crime then was poverty. Her father refused to own her, and her brother, many years her senior, was stem and bitter in his re sentment. “They -, were proud of their name, their position and their wealth; and they never forgave this only daughter and sister that she left them for a man, of obscure parentage and without mean- to support her as they had dohe. My father, at that time, was clerk in a dry-goods house in New York, with a smalt salary. “I would not wrong my mother ; but my uncle said she grew peevish and soured by the contact with poverty, and constantly fretted for the luxuries she had voluntarily resigned. My father worshiped her. It might have been his loving desire to gratify her, or a sudden greed for wealth, I cannot tell; but he forged his employer’s check for twenty thousand dollars. Mother was too little acquainted with business to question the sudden influx of money; but the crime was detected, my father arrested, tried, convicted and sent to the State’s prison for a term of years. He died there in six months; but my mother had already preceded him to the grave. “Her last wish, her last appeal, was to my grandfather and uncle, begging them to pay the money and clear iny father’s name. They refused. After she died they took me home, and I never knew a want; but they ignored and repudiated my father, though my uncle believed he died a truly penitent man. “In my uncle’s desk, after he died, I found the papers relating to the forgery and my poor mother’s passionate appeals to him to pay the money so wrongfully taken. She took all blame upon herself, repenting, when too lata her repining and discontent, and hir extravagant expenditure of the stolen money. “My first impulse was to yield to her prayer, even after so many years, and pay at once the amount of the forged chock still in the hands of the firm who employed my father, but my uncle prob ably knew what I would desire, for he so willed his money to me that I can never touch the principal. Frank, with my mother’s letters before me, I vowed never to one dollar in any luxury —one cent more than the merest neces sities required—until the debt was paid that haunted her deathbed. For six years I have saved all my income, add ing to it a portion the rent of the house my uncle left me. I have fared poorly,' drewfed plainly, and added little by little to my hoard by closest economy and care.” “Poor child 1 What a life!” “I was not unhappy. Martha knew all, and was far more friend than servant, and when my friends gave me up, I thought of my mother, and was" com forted.” “Bui you say you are free, Ruth.” “I am free. I sent, the money to the firm last week, and to-day, onjy .to-day, I have received and'destroyed the chem, the last proof of my crime. The gentleman wrote <me such a letter, Frank, that I am feure they wijfl always respect my secret.” / ’ '• '■ ■ “Oh, if I had only been here, Ruth, to give you a home and protection, to make your life happy by my dove, while you saved your own means for your holy purpose.” “It could not have been, FrSnk.\. I would have never burdened your life with my duty to the dead.” “But now, Ruth-? -You are free now, and you will be mine! Mine to cherish and protect! Mine to guard from all want and all sorrow in the future.” "Frank! Frank! you forget!” Ruth cried, her face deathly pale, her large, dark feyes dilated with pain. , “Forget!” “I am not the happy child you left I am called a miser, an avaricious, hard woman, whose sordid soul looks for nothing beyond money. I am thrust out al society for my mean dress, and my old friends pass me by.” “A good reason for one to hold you fast” “I am not even Rath Wellford, Frank, but Ruth Mayburn, the child of a de tected forger, who died in the State prison.” For answer he took her into his arms, folding her close, and looking into her earnest eyes with very loving, tender ones. “You are Ruth,” he said, “truly not the careless child J left, but a woman to be honored for the noble sacrifice of six long years. You are the Ruth whom I Jove, and whose love I hold to be the crowning blessing of my life. Take all other names out of your poor, bruised heart, lore, and let me print one there in their place, calling you Ruth, my wife.” There was no explanation given even to Lily of the sacrifice of Ruth’s young life, but before Christmas there was a wedding, and in Wellford place old friends once more gathered round the bride. Never could she entirely forget the long years of sorrow, but in her hus band’s love she finds her compensation for her sacrifice.. .m An Extraordinary Case. An extraordinary case of , persecution has just been disposed of by the Central Criminal Court in Ixmdon. The per secutor was 1 a man called Helmore; the persecuted a young lady named Grier son. As long ago as 1874, when Miss Grierson was a mere child and Helmore a youth of twenty;"ht began his perse cution bv trying to make her acquaint ance.’ For eleven years he forced his unwelcome attentions upon her, followed her from place to place, watched her movements, dogged her steps, wrote her letters, sent her presents and resorted to every means and device to obtrude himself into her society. He patroled in front of her house for hours at a time, followed her to school, kneeled near her in church, tracked her to Paris and other places. In some of his letters he addressed her as “Dearest, darling wife,” and signed himself “Kind and faithful husband;” in others he threatened her and himself. She never gave him any encouragement, and her friends were active in their efforts to put an end to the annoyance. The strangest aspect of the affair is that the persecution could have been kept up so long without being stopped by the courts. Once or twice he waq, arraigned in the police court and bound over to keep the peace. But he did not keep it. Then Miss Grierson was made a. ward in chancery, and chancery pro ceedings were resorted to for her pro tection; «But these proved ineffective. Finally Helmore was indicted for threat ening her life in a letter. The defence wa^ ? that he was in love and that “love is a species of madness.” This plea, however, did not prevent the jury from convicting him or Justice Hawkins from sentencing him to fifteen months' im prisonment with hard labor. Repaired With Dog’s Flesh. An Experiment on a Young Woman's Wanted Arm nt Bellevue, About two months ago a young woman was taken to Bellevue Hospital, New York City, suffering from severe burns on her right arm. The usual treatment did no good, and the muscles «'of the arm gradually wasted away. The • patient was unable to move her hand or forearm, and it was thought that the arm might have to be amputated. One of the physicians concluded to graft in the wounded arm some healthy muscular tissue from a dog. The young woman was put under the influence of either, and a piece of muscle cut from the leg of a live dog was neatly inserted in her arm. It is thought that a union of the muscular tissues is taking place, but it will not be known for several weeks whether the operation will be a jtaccess or not. The patient does not know that an effort has been made to graft the muscle to her arm. An acoount of the case will be published in a medical journal as soon as the result of the operation is known. The operation, had never been tried in thx® country before. There is a record of one foreign case in which the experiment was successfuL Liberia. “Liberia is on the west coast of Afri ca,” says the Atlanta CoMtittUian. “It contains about 30,000 square miles. The soil is productive and the climate better than anywhere on the coast The Gov ernment is republican, and owes its origin to the American Colonization So ciety, which in 1820 sent over some negro colonists. In 1847 the declara tion of independence was made and a constitution adopted. The President holds office two years. The republic has passed through nothing but discord since it was established. It borrowed $500,000 from England in 1871, and has paid no interest since 1874, the Government being bankrupt In 1880 the republic annexed the kingdom of Medina, a very rich country. The population is composed of about 18,000 civilized and 700,000 uncivilized negroes. The country is not prosperous.” A Lins Pkeskbvbr. —It ought to be generally known that a man’s hat will serve in most cases as a temporary life preserver to those in danger of drown ing. When a person finds himself in the water he should lay hold of his hat be tween his hands, keeping the crown close under his chin and the mouth of the hat under water. The quantity of air contained in the cavity of the hat will keep the head above water for a long time—sometimes for several hours .. NUMBER IS. STRAY JOKES AND DASHES. FOUND IN THE HUMOROUS COLUMNS OF OUR FXCHANCJRB. The Babies’ Plctnres-The BrHe Had Wealth-A Blot-The Name Did jtt-Dan. serous to Oversleep, Etc,, Etc. THE NAME DID IT.' Margaretta Steigerwaldenzer and Georgiana Warner, who live in Pike county, went out for a walk. While passing along the road they saw a rattle snake lying in the roadway. One of the girls threw a stone at it, and it im mediately coiled itself and showed fight. Miss Steigerwaldenzer picked up a club and accepted the challenge. “Oh, Margaretta Steigerwaldenzer 1” cried Miss Warner. “Don’t go near it. It will kill you !” At that the snake uncoiled itself and hurried away. Miss Steigerwaldenzer followed it, and, overtaking it, killed it, the snake showing no further inclina tion to defend itself. It was three feet long, and had only four rattles. “How quickly that snake lost its fierceness,” said Miss Steigerwaldenzer to Miss Warner. “Yes,” replied Miss Warner. “It heard me speak your name and knew then that there was no use.” The two girls are still friends. — New York Sun. MILLIONS IN IT FOB MILKMEN. Sharp Inventor—“ Yes, siree. I've struck it at last Do you sec that model of a pump ? It’s my own invention.” Friend—“ Looks to me like an ordinary pump.” “Well, yes, there’s nothing novel about the pump. It’s the name I’m going to give it that I’ve got patented. There’s millions in it.” “Don’t see what difference a name can make. What are you going to call it ?’’ “The Alderney pump.”— rhiladcL phia Call. THE BRIDE HAD WEALTH. Uncle Mose approached the County Clerk the other day to obtain a marriage license. The clerk, in order to poke fun at the old man, said seriously: v; , “I hope the bride has got seventy-five > - cents in cash, for the Legislature has passed a law forbidding us to issue a license unless the bride has that amount.” “Jess go ahead wid de papers, boss,” said Uncle Mose, approaching the clerk, and then he leaned over and whispered in his ear, “dar’s reliable rumors about a dollar and a quarter.”— Arkansaw Traveler. DANGEBOUB TO OVERSLEEP. • ’Did you hear the dog bark and howl list night ?” “Yes, my ears were greeted with the canine symphonies. I 6ould not sleep because of them.” “Is the dog a useful animal?” “Oh, very. His owner keeps him tied in the backyard, and the dog en joys life so well that he barks or howls all the time. Thus the neighbors are kept from sleeping too much. It is a sad and dangerous thing to oversleep.” —Chicago Ledger. THE PICTURE. She—“ Thanks so much for giving me this opportunity of seeing yoqr Academy picture, Mr. McDuffer—and good-by!’’ He—“ Delighted to have seen yon. I suppose you are now going to see Smythe’s picture, over the way?” She: —“Oh, no. I shall see that at ths Academy,, you know !”— Punch. A BLOT. Boy—“ Please,. sir, Tommie Johnson has made me make a big blot.” School Board Teacher- “Then Tom mie Johnson won’t go hdme to his din ner to-day.” Tommie said afterward, when the teacher had gone away: “I 'spose yer think yer done a fine thing by roundin’ on me, but, as it happens, I ain’t got no dinner to go home to. Yah, yer sneak I” —Judy. THE USEFULNESS OF TWO ANIMALS. “They may talk about a goat being a nuisance, sir,” said one passenger to another on an elevated train, “but if it were not for that animal I would not be so well off as I am.” “Then I infer that you are in the kid glove business, sir ? ” “No, sir; I am a circus poster printer.” “Aba 1 Well, I must say that I owe a great deal to a much maligned animal —the cat.” “Are you a furrier ?” “Oh, no; I manufacture bootjacks, sir.”— Journal. ABLE TO PAY IT. “Well,” remarked the divorce lawyer, “what alimony do you want ?” “I think $300,000 cash and an income of $30,000 a year besides lawyers’ fees would only be fair,” replied the lady. “Fair, madam F' answered the lawyer in surprise. "What business it your husband in ?” “He owns a skating rink.”— Graphic.