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VOLUME XVII. NUMBER 13. “AND THOUGHT THE WORLD WELL LOST” UP leaf-strewn Kay street, which leads to the Newport reading room, strode a solitary figure the other day. • Hands in his pockets and coat-collar turned up, he walked along with bowed head. He was Amos Tuck French, clubman, millionaire and brother of Mrs. Elsie French Vanderbilt Not two blocks away, around the corner in Everett street, two laugh ing young people were posing for their pictures in a big automobile, with a dog between them, says a writ er in the New York World. She was tall, well-groomed, arrayed in a fetch ing frock, and nestling close to the young fellow who sat at the wheel of the machine. They were Mr. and Mrs. John Edward Paul Geraghty —the young couple who eloped last August —she from Amos Tuck French’s villa near the Cliffs, he from his Newport garage. All society knows of their runaway flight in their automobile last sum mer, with detectives, Mr. French and Mrs. Vanderbilt on their trail -in autos. And society knows of the reconciliation that never was because tse pretty bride would not go home unless they accepted her chauffeur husband —“demonstrator” he likes to be called —and of their taking their little cottage home in Newport where young Mr. Geraghty, son of one of the town hackmen, has an interest in two garages now, one in Fillmore street and the other in South Baptist street. Modest but Happy Home. “Come in,” laughed young Mr. Ger aghty, opening the door of his Ever ett street cottage. It is a pretty little cottage—his AOIKjI Ips *Q "Ham and eggs this morning,” laughed young Geraghty. "But she sure can make coffee.” modest home where the girl from the Cliffs has come to stay. Outside it is a dun green; inside it shines with new wall paper, new rugs, new furni ture, new china. All that is old in it are the little girlish souvenirs of her former life which the eloping bride brought from her other home. “Well,” laughed the young bride groom, “here it is—this is our new home. And don't forget, eve.-ything is bought and paid for.” The Geraghtys live as a thousand other Newporters live who are neither poor nor rich. There are 30,000 of them, but only 300 get their names in the society columns. As yet the for mer Miss French has not been chron icled that way. Very frankly, she is not on speaking terms with her father and mother. "We have eleven rooms,” said the bridegroom, “four on this floor, four upstairs and three in the third story. Pretty nice, isn’t it?” Indeed, the young fellow might well be’ proud, for it wasn’t sc long ago that he was making SSO a month, hardly enough to pay the rent-of his present home. Mrs. Geraghty was up stairs making the beds and singing merrily. Mrs. Geraghty Does the Honors. But there was a household tragedy on—Josephine, the colored maid of all work, was away and there was no body to cook but Mrs. Geraghty, who always before had a lady's maid to wait upon her personally, and a but ler, footmen and chauffeurs to see that everything she wanted was prop erly done. On the parlor table were relics of the bygone days which Mrs. Geraghty has put behind her. As she said: “Society women are all vapid and the men are fools. I haven’t any use for the crowd. Money, an artificial social position; having better looking ©lw Snutiitim SulktitL clothes than Mrs. Somebody; giving a more extensive party than some one else; having the most men trailing around after you; getting somebody else’s husband away from her —these are the things Newport people care about.” But to the cosey little home of the elopers. There is a square hall to the left as one enters and back of it is the kitch en. To the right is the modest par lor, and back of that is the dining room. It is a home that a clerk in a prosperous store might have, or a tradesman who has a nice little busi ness in shoes or fish. But it isn’t anything like Tuck’s Eden, at Tuxedo, or the villa of Newport, where the Amos Tuck. Frenches live. Difference In “Homes.” It isn’t the kind of home that the pretty bride had up to that fateful day in August last when she made up her mind to run away with young Geraghty and upset Newport by the elopement as it has seldom been up set before. The hall Is in red, with a few con ventional pictures hung about. There iilll.liill I- r — /ySg -- w / ~ — Works as Other Newporters Work Who Are Neither Rich Nor Poor. nKR — SBl T® j jp* There were lamb chops lying ready for the deft fingers of the bride, and a basket of potatoes. And within the nice little ice box was the cold meat and salad for the” evening meal. is a nice, new rug, a hat rack, and the telephone stands on a little table. The parlor—it can’t be called a drawing room —is modestly papered in green and the dining room back of it. is in brown. There is mission furniture brand new —and a few pictures, but the most interestin thing is the great collection of pho ugraphs In silver frames that line .he center table and the mantel. / These are of society people, Mr. and Mrs. French, ',ll the other members of the family, 'ne Newport society girls of the bride’s eighteen years, young men who frequent the Casino and the reading rooms, those that the former Miss Julia French knew in the days when she drove her electric runabout and was asked out to dine and dance every evening of the summer. Most interesting perhaps is a little frame hanging on the wall near the door to the hall. In It are preserved three sprays of lily of the valley, part of a bride's bouquet. Written in a childish hand over the browned and faded leaves and flowers is this: Pauline Le Roy French Samuel Jones Wagstaff May 5, 1908. This was a wedding in the French IRWINTON, WILKINSON COUNTY, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1911. family. Miss Pauline French, an old er sister, married young Mr. Wagstaff, a society beau and club man. The present Mrs. Geragnty, then a girl of fifteen, was an attendant at her sis ter’s wedding and kept the little sou venir of the happy day. She herself had no attendants at her wedding ex cept the copntry people who happened to be at Landlord Riley’s little hotel at Central Village on that bright sum mer morning when the Rev. L. A. Perry married the society belle to her chauffeur sweetheart. ' “Well," laughed young Geraghty, "how do you like it?” Mrs. Geraghty Happy. It was a real home, to be sure. Up stairs Mrs. Geraghty was about her household duties and singing as she went. “Oh, never mind about me,” she laughed from upstairs, "I’m too busy.” “The real truth is,” said Geraghty, half apologetically, “that Josephine of ours is getting married and we have to do our own work.” It was perfectly plain that the bridegroom was doing his share, for he was in a sweater and old trousers, straightening up things downstairs while his bride worked upstairs. The kitchen, as he led the way to it, would delight the eye of any house wife. The tea kettle was singing mer rily on the stove and on the table lay the bundles from the butcher’s for the day’s meals. “Ham and eggs this morning,” laughed young Geraghty. “But she sure can make coffee!” There were lamb chops lying ready for the deft fingers of the bride, and a basket of potatoes. And within the nice little ice box was the cold meat and salad for the evening meal —like other Newport villagers the Geraghtys dine In the middle of the day. Out at the villas the butlers say “Dinner is served” at 8 p. m. But there is no butler for the young elopers. "Darn my socks?” he repeated. “Sure she does. She knows how to run a house with the best of them. She does everything just right She knows how to cook, to make beds, to sew and to wash things. We’re hav ing great times together.” All village Newport knows the Ger aghtys now. They are out on the streets very often and they go to every “Darn my socks?” he repeated. "Sure, she does. She knows how to run a house with the best of them. She does everything just right. She knows how to cook, make beds, to sew and to wash things. We’re hav ing great times together.” new show in town. Moving pictures are their delight. Young Mrs. Geraghty’s chum now is her sister-in-law, little Miss Edith Geraghty, daughter of the village hackman. They walk down Thames street of an afternoon to go to mar ket or to see the ships that lie out in the harbor. But Bellevue avenue, the Casino and the Cliffs know her no more. She belongs now to the village, not to the villas. But she is happy.—New York World. The Mind of Joseph Pulitzer. When summing up the gist of any matter declarative of his own thought in regard to it, his speech was a les son in diction and construction. No essayist or pamphleteer or historical writer but would have profited by lis tening to him. Everything that he himself has written or dictated shows this clarity of expression. He would have made a great lecturer, a great pleader before the bar, had not journal ism and politics in his early youth swung him away from his legal studies to the most exacting of all professions. By long practice each of his secre taries had learned to know his needs and bis methods of listening. Every article read to him from the mag azines, reviews and quarterlies had to be prepared, rehearsed, marked and deleted. Even the novels, of which he was a voracious reader, had to be thus condensed. —James Barnes, in Collier's Weekly. Natural Result. “What a thin voice that doctor has!” “I suppose it is the result of his constant efforts at skeletons’ articula tion." Don’t Delay the Game We Have the Goods; we know < . you will need them soon. Why Wait ? Why not buy now when you can first of all get the best selection? Next, not be crowed. When cold weather settles down onus we will have all we can do, and our advice is to shop early--get the pick—get the best attention, and best of all buy from THE BIC STORE » We are the people that have the goods; we know that cotton is cheap; we know and you know the win= ter needs must be had; the only thing is where to buy. Our store store stands for all that is good and best in the new way of doing things=-=the new idea is the the one price and small profit. Then we give Profit Sharing Coupons Come today. We are ready. We sell everything to wear. Yours for more business. W. S. Myrick & To. Milledgeville’s Only Department Store SI.OO A YEAR.