The Aiken recorder. [volume] (Aiken, S.C.) 1881-1910, August 31, 1905, Image 4
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lOUISA’S gILVER REDDING.
Qv HEL-EN A DIXON.
a a
m
ro^
a a a a
OU lu.-iy ainrry biui. Louisa.
siJice you are so deter
mined. But you know that
neuber your mother nor
myself approves your
choice. The sou of a
Jruukard, and one who Is likely to be
come one himself, Is no flt husband
for you.*’
“Oh, father, Vincent will never drink
intoxicating liquors; he has promised
me that he never will.”
Father and daughter sat alone in the
coxy sitting room of their country
home. Louisa was as wayward as a
spoiled child. She was the only one
left at home of the little flock that
once nightly gathered there. Her
brothers and sisters were all married.
The former were brawny, well-to-do
farmers, living not far away, and the
latter contented, hard-working wives
•f farmers. Of course, everybody ex
pected Louisa, when her time came to
leave the paternal roof, to marry some
thrifty tiller of the soil, and settle down
near the old home, as the others had
done.
And it might have been so had not
Vincent Lenoir, with his handsome
face and captivating manners, come
among them and opened her eyes to the
fact that she was not horn to drudge
forever in a dismal farmhouse. So
Harvey Webb, the honest, big-hearted
fellow, who the neighbors thought
would lead away the old deacon's pet.
was discarded, and Vincent Lenoir
took hie place, and a much larger place
Miau poor Harvey had ever filled In
Louisa's heart!
Vincent had come
city, and for a time
lionized on account
mental qualities; hut
known that he was
habit of visiting the village tavern, and
that he often came from there extreme
ly unsteady, people shook their heads.
Then his conduct began to be openly
commented upon, and finally one after
another had turned their faces against
him, till the young man would have
fled in dusgust from (he village hut for
one thing—the deacon’s house held an
attraction for him.
He loved Louisa, ami went one day
to ask her to marry him just when the
indignation of the order-loving vil
lagers was at its height, and the good
deacon, who had bent his ear lo the
general verdict, withheld his consent.
Vincent, fully determined to win the
old man’s consent, went hack to his
city hotne, and at the end of six months
again appeared as a suitor for the hand
•f Louisa.
He was so much improved in appear-
anep and avoided so entirely the village
tavern, that the deacon, taking into
consideration that Louisa was pining to
a shadow, gave his consent, though re
luctantly. as we have seen.
“You can marry, since you seem
so bent and hound to have each other;
but I shall give you no ‘setting out’ nor
honor you with a grand wedding such
as your sisters had. This man may
take you with your good looks and
your wardrobe just as they are, if he
WWfBff! lAVV?«.re fer sioxac
ef these things. And he sha!l have
from a distant
he was greatly
of his brlihant
when it became
in the constant
things,
nothing else, unless ”
Louisa was crying softly, and trying
her best to keep her tears from being
seen. They did not escape her father’s
notice, however, though he pretended
unconsciousness.
“Unless he conducts himself like a
man. and abstains entirely from strong
drink.”
“He will, father! Oh, I am sure lie
will!”
Louisa did not say this to gain the
“setting out” or the “grand wedding;”
she was only anxious that her future
husband should he considered worthy
In her father's eyes.
“Well, if he does, I shall know it;
and if he does not, you will know It.
and feel it most, my child; though it
■will make me miserable, too. Now I
will tell you how I shall act toward
you. and you must not think because I
do what I consider my duty, that I am
lacking in love for my youngest child.”
The old deacon brushed his sleeve
across his eyes, and went on:
“Lenoir may have you, and take you
to his home as Soon as you choose.
Your brothers, and sisters, and myself,
Will hold no communication with you.
If in five years you can come to us
bringing with you a husband who has
lived up to the promise he has made
you, onr arms will be open to receive
you both; and then you shall have your
wedding party—your silver wedding,
you may call It, though custom does
hot sanction its being held so soon.
WJrnt do you say?”
Louisa said just what almost any
woman who loved and placed a blind
reliance on her Idol would have said.
She accepted the conditions hopefully,
confidently, and went to her new home,
feeling certain that she would triumph
in her husband's rectitude.
Vincent kept his promise for a time
faithfully, and Louisa, fully realizing
the happiness she had anticipated,
longed to communicate to her stern
relatives the fact that their fears for
her future were unfounded. But she
must not. She had been forbidden
even to write to the loved ones she had
left for the arms of a stranger.
Months passed, and Vincent occasion
ally came home at night with flushed
face and breath that would have sug
gested brandy to any one less blindly
trustful than Louisa. But when, as
the weeks rolled by, he went so far
as to enter her presence actually reel
ing as he walked, her eyes could no
longer be closed to the fact that her
idol was no longer worthy of the high
place to which her love had elevated
him. At the end of a year his business
—prosperous at the thus of h!s mar
riage—bad suffered greatly through his
unsteady habits. lu all this time Lou
isa had not heard from home save in
an indirect way. and she often wept
•ver the thought that those whose
memory she cherished so fondly,
neither knew nor seemed to care
whether she was numbered among the
living or the dead.
Another year was nearly passed, with
no change In Vincent except for the
worse, wheu one day the postman
brought a letter over which the poor
young wife wept scalding tears, and
the unconscious babe In her lap looked
np with wonderment In Its thin face
at her look of keen anguish. The letter
which caused Louisa so much sorrow—
though under different circumstances
it would have yielded/her only joy and
delight—ran thus:
“My Dear Child—Mother and I, and
some of the others are coming to see
you. It seems an age since you left
us. If all is with you as we hope, the
coming anniversary of your marriage
•hall be kept at home as wc promised
the fifth should he. That seems too
long to wait. Mother and your broth
ers and sisters send their best love.
Your loving father,
“GILES NEWCOMBE.”
Louisa had read this first letter from
home till she knew it by heart, yet
she drew it forth once more as she sat
slowly rocking her babe to sleep. It
was 10 o'clock, her usual bedtime, but
Vincent had not yet come in, and she,
poor, patient soul, never thought of
going to her rest," however weary she
might he. till he came. She heard his
footsteps soon, not walking lightly,
buoyantly, as in the days that seemed
to the heavy-hearted wife so far in
th<* past, but heavily, sluggishly.
He entered the room where, with the
letter in her hand, she sat. One glance
at the reeling form and she dropped
the letter iu her pockee.
In the morning she gave it to him.
“Weil.” he said, when he Lad finished
it, “so they're coming to pass judgment
upon me. arc they? Better wait. I
should think, till I ask them. I ask
no odds of anybody's relations, and I’ll
not submit to this court-martial sort of
thing which these people propose.”
“Oh. Vincent!”
That was all Louisa said, but the
tears which filled her eyes might have
spoken volumes to the erring husband
had he rightly interpreted them.
The girl-wife—for she was hut a girl
in years, though old in hitter experi
ence-turned away her face, and lean
ing against the mantel, sobbed and
cried till even Vincent Lenoir’s dulled
sensibilities were stirred.
“There, Louisa, don't be a baby. I
know I’ve disappointed you. and I’ll
disappoint your folks when thry come
and see me ”
“But. Vincent,” bitterly sobbed Lou
isa. “you needn’t ”
“Needn’t come home as I did last
night, you would say? Well, I will
not. Only let me know when they are
coining.”
“But I cannot tel’, you that, Vincent.
Father didn't state when they would
be here. Oh, I might have been so
proud of you. my husband, if you had
only ”
Louisa broke down in a fresh burst
of tears.
“I know you’ll be ashamed of me be
fore them. Lou, and I shall be ashamed
of myself. But there’s no use in my
trying to he anything more than the
miserable thing I am. Only I'll prom
ise to keep straight while your rela
tives are here. Will they come to
day, do you (Link?'’
“They may, Vincent; you’ll not for
get?”
The young wife put her arms around
her miserable husband’s neck and
kissed him. He returned the kiss, say
ing:
“No; I’ll be sure to remember.”
He left the house for his place of
business.
That afternoon, while Louisa, almost
happy in her husband's promise, was
busy with her little one, the doorbell
rang, and a troop of smiling-faced
country peoph^iteaded by the good old
.io.ie->», -» t*1 iu. UY.irs were
shed, as they always are at such iiKct-
ings. Greetings were exchanged and
•the baby was duly kissed and admired.
Tea was postponed that Vincent
might share it with them. Louisa cast
uneasy glances ever and anon down the
street, but Vincent did not come.
“Is he generally so late, my darling?”
asked the kind-faced mother.
And Louisa colored and stammered,
and only made out to say:
“Sometimes.”
The deacon and some of the brothers
exchanged glances. The deacon's wife
and one or two of the sisters wiped
their eyes.
“I’ll just walk down the street a
little and meet him,” said the deacon.
And he went.
The worthy man had gone a couple
of blocks, when he recognized in a man
staggering toward him the one who
had won from his ol 1 age its last cher
ished flower—and only to crush it.
He turned, and was slowly retracing
his steps, when Vincent Lenoir came
up with him.
“Don’t know what Lou'll say,” he
muttered to himself, “she’s mighty par-
tic’lar;” then laying his hand on (he
deacon’s shoulder: “What d’you think
’bout it, old man—don't you think she's
mighty par-tic’lar?”
"What about?” asked the deacon,
huskily.
“ 'Bout me an’ my in'cent in-dul-
genees.”
The old man made no answer. His
heart was too heavy for speech. He
had hoped to find his daughter’s hus
band all that could be desired; and how
had his hopes fallen!
“But I’ll tell you, old man, there'll
be an uncommon time to-night. You
see she’s looking for her folks—straight-
laced set—and she’s ’fraid I won’t
make a ’spectable ’pearance—don’t you
see? But let ’em rip. I’m my own
boss yet, old man, and I don’t care a
snap for their silver weddings, nor
their ’spcct either, don’t you see?
Straight-laced set; very narrow-mind
ed, you see.”
When they reached the house occu
pied by Lenoir the deacon followed his
son-in-law up the steps.
“Going in, old man? Well, I do’
know as I’d better let you. You don’t
look ex-exactly ’spectable, you see. and
Lou'll s'boid and ’cuse me of ’sociating
with old ragmuftins: so you see ’taint
convenient. Come down t’ the inn
t'morrow night, and I’ll be there.
You’re a brick—you are.”
Notwithstanding this the deacon was
close upon Vincent’s heels when he
opened the door and appeared in the
presence of his wife and her relatives.
Louisa, too overwhelmed with morti
fication to utter a word, sank down in
a chair iu a corner of the room. The
intoxicated husband took tio notice of
the strange faces before him. Turning,
he pushed a chair toward the deacon,
with:
"Sit down, old brick, an’ make your
self at borne. I'll let Lou know 't I'm
gov’ner here!”
The brothers and sisters of the hu
miliated wife had risen from their
seats and stood around in silence.
Presently Vincent’s eyes lit upon Mrs.
Neweombe’s face. The old lady was
holding the baby in her arms, but no
one save a man in bis condition could
have mistaken her wrinkled face for
that of his young wife.
He went up to the deacou's wife and
clapped his hand on her shoulder.
“Glum as a ghost, eh? But you see
I'm gov'nor here, in’pendent 's a king
on ’s throne;” and he made a flourish
with such force tba<: he well-nigh lost
his balance. Settliii£ his band again
upon the old lady's shoulder, lie low
ered his face till it almost touched
her*. “D’ye see that old chap Bitting
there peac’ble’s a Quaker? Well, be*i
a friend of mine. I want him treated
’th proper ’spect, or I’ll ’venge in’self
b’ coming home in ’stonlshing state of
el’vation when your str'straight-laeed
folks are here.”
At this juncture he beheld himself re
flected In a large mirror. Instantly
striking a pugilistic attitude, he de
manded:
“Who are you, gaping at a gen’man
in that style, an’ haven’t the manners
to take off your hat? I’ll let you knot’
I’m boss here!”
The drunken man executed a second
flourish with his arms high in air and
fell upon the floor, in his rapid descent
nearly knocking his mother-in-law off
her feet. The deacon seized his hat
and overcoat. At a signal from him
the others got their things, and then all
slowly filed out of the house. The
mother tarried a moment to bend over
her daughter, who, covered with
shame, sat still in the corner. She
offered her the shelter of her old home,
but Louisa only looked at her husband
and shook her head.
“He needs me, mother, and I cannot
leave him.”
It was late next morning when Vin
cent awoke. He was thoroughly sober
now. He brushed lus hand slowly over
his eyes, and lay silently in deep re
flection. scarcely moving for a long
time. Then he got up. dressed him
self. and went downstairs. He found
Louisa crying over her baby, which
lay sleeping in her lap. The husband,
in whose memory every word and act
of (he previous evening were clear,
went to his wife’s side and knelt down.
*T remember it all. Lou, and I know
how you feel, and I am. for the first
time in my life, thoroughly ashamed of
myself.”
We will draw a veil over the pair as
they converse in low, solemn tones
with each other, mingling their tears
and their prayers over their sleeping
infant.
Three years passed away, and in the
large room of Deacon Newcombe's
house a littio company was gathered,
of children and grandchildren. All who
had once met daily around the good
deacon’s fire were there save one, and
that one Louisa. The faces of all were
saddened as the mother, looking around
upon the group, spoke her name. No
one could (ell to what depth of misei\v
she might have sunk ore this. In all
those throe years they had had no tid
ings of her. They had written, but
(heir letters were never answered.
Once one of the brothers had visited
(he city and called at the house where
the first two years of her married life
were spent, lint new tenants peopled it
and the name of Lenoir was unknown
to them.
They gathered around the well-
spread table, young and old.
“It is five years to-morrow since
Louisa was married. I wonder if she
remembers the promise I made her!”
said the deacon, staring hard at his
plate; and the mother answered:
“Poor child! if she does, it will only
add to her sorrow.”
There was the noise of wheels out
side. the sound of footsteps on the
porch; then the knocker sounded, and
in a moment, Louisa, radiant with
health and happiness, entered the
room, leading by the hand a bright-
eyed boy. Her husband—not the blear-
eyed, besotted creature they had looked
upon three years before, but noble and
manly-looking—a man whom the good
deacon and his stalwart sons felt they
could trrasn by the hand—followed iu a
few moments.
Later in the evening, when a vast
amount of kissing and smiling through
tears had been gone through with,
Louisa led her little boy to the deacon’s
side.
“Isn't he handsome, father, and just
like his papa? And only think, Vincent
has never touched a drop of liquor
since that dreadful night wheu I
thought I should die for shame! And
we are so happy!”
And Mr. and Mrs. Lenoir had their
sliver wedding after all, as the old man
persisted in calling it, and many and
costly were the preseuts showered upon
Louisa, who, in her new happiness,
looked as blooming as n newly made
bride; but the gift she most prized
was in the shape of a promise, that
night renewed, by her husband, never
again to touch aught that could in
toxicate.—New York Weekly.
WORDS OF WISDOM.
When the door is opened on selfish
ness love dies on the threshold.
Do that assigned to you. and you can
not hope too much or dare too much.
“We are never beneath hope, while
above hell: nor above hope, while be
neath heaven.”
If I cannot succeed in doing anything
myself. I will not grudge another the
doing of something noble.—Epictetus.
There is one thing will warm up the
man who preaches in an ice box, and
that is to see people looking for a more
genial climate.—Henry F. Cope, in Chi
cago Tribune.
Miserable thou art, whosoever thou
art or whithersoever thou turuest, un
less thou turn thyself to God. Keep
thy heart free and lifted up to Him.—
Thomas a Kempis.
Whenever you speak, watch yourself;
repentance follows every word which
gladdens no heart. Let every thorn
which people sow in thy road bloom
in the lustre of thy smiles.—Persian.
The great law of affinity, which is
seen everywhere in nature, holds with
the same unalterable, unmeasured
force in the spiritual world. Every
shade of mind draws its like, or is at
tracted by kindred minds.
We never know through what divine
mysteries of compensation the Great
Father of the universe may be carrying
out His sublime plan; and those three
words, “God is. love,” ought to contain
to every doubting soul the solution of
all things.—Miss Muloeb.
The Heart’* Behavior.
A recent publication of Ann Arboi
University describes an instrument for
securing a continuous graphic record
of the pulse rate in man which affordt
valuable indications of the heart’s
work. The records show that the com
mencement of muscular work is fol
lowed almost simultaneously by a
marked acceleration of the pulse. In
fact, this modification of the pulse
rate is observed in the next heart cy
cle after the work begins. In typical
cases there are Hire, well marked
stages; a primary rise, a period of sus
tained acceleration and a secondary
rise. Similar stages of decrease in
rate occur after the work stops. The
rapidity of the pulse during work de
pends not only upen the r mount of
work done, but much more upon the
manner in which it is done. Speed
and resistance are factors requiring
separate consideration, and of these
two speed has the greate:- influence.
These records show that while muscu
lar work may not appreciably require
the expenditure of bodily forces, it im
mediately reacts upon the heart, and
that conversely cessation of muscu
lar exertion is an immediat relief to
the heart.—Philadelphia /’ecord.
, a Tt-rx •r ,
,,u g?r
mers.
Something to Think About.
F there is any one class of
our people deserving of
special favor at the bands
of the Government It is
the agricultural class, or
strictly speaking, the far-
class of people has ever
done so much for the United States as
the farming people. The farmers
tamed the continent from a wilderness
and made our country the very garden
of the world, annually furnishing
about seventy per cent, of our national
exports. In respect to what they have
done for the Government they need
no herald; in respect to what they de
serve at the hands of the Government
every patriotic citizen, in public as
well as private life, should be their
advocate. The farmers of the United
States, patient and determined, have
made no demands, though bearing the
heaviest burdens of life since the Re
public was instituted. The time has
come when they must have relief. Un
der present highway conditions most
everywhere the American farmer is
practically imprisoned at home through
at least the half of each year. That
half of the year is the time when he
could be best spared from the farm,
and when, with good roads, lie could
market his products at a profit for
his toil. Now, however, he must leave
tlie farm in summer or early fall—the
only time when tiie roads are passable
—to market ids products, and then al
ways on a congested market, or take
tiie chances of a hub-deep haul that
kills his stock, breaks wagon and har
ness. wears out the man and eats up
tile fruit of Isis sweat. The good roads
season for the American farmer is the
very season when his whole time and
attention should be given to bis farm
operations; it is the crop season which
waits for no man, and which, neglect
ed, charges it up to the man behind
tiie plow. AYe all know what that
means. With good roads the farmer
could do in's town going in rain or
snow, or when tiie ground is too wet
to plow; with bad roads, as they are
now, as they have been from the be
ginning and as they will be until the
Government of tiie l nited States ex
tends its aid as suggested in the
Brownlow-Latimer bill, be must be
the great national sufferer. It has been
calculated by the Department of Ag
riculture that every time the sun sets
the had roads of tiie United States
cost tiie American farmers $1,500,000.
These are Government figures. How
any public man can refuse to support
legislation that will stop this dreadful
drain passes the understanding of the
average mind. Can the national con
science and tiie national thought be
unmoved at f aee with such a condi
tion? Are .he people themselves
asleep to their own material salva
tion? How long can this sapping, sap
ping, of farm life and farm vitality
go on before the American farm borne
is destroyed? And how long, pray
tell, can the Republic stand after the
destruction of the American farm
house? ,
We lu/ipe to see the suggested good
roads irgisdntion am through ai■ n e«<vsa
the coining winter. It will, iff the peo
ple get-together and demand, it. Let
neighbofyood and county meetings be
held eveiT'vhere and petitions go for
ward to Senators and Representatives.
Write to your Senator for Senate Doc
ument ”04. T.Ok to your neighbor
about it. Urge liTIWo write. Let us
all get busy for goot^^ads.—Uptown
Weekly.
^1
ii
vs-jszm
r*. - *•%'. ..*
THE SMILE OF DEFEAT.
CLEMENTINA GONZALES,
OF CENTRAL AMERICA,
RESTORED TO HEALTH.
PE-RU-NA THE REMEDY
Miss Clementina Gonzales, Hotel I’ro-
vinciu, Guatemala, C. A., in a recent letter
ironi 247 Cleveland Ave., C liicago, 111.,
writes:
‘• / foofc Pctnna fora n-oi'n-uutcon
dition. 1 icon f<o run down that I
c iti!d not slccji at nlijhl, had no «/#-
petite and felt tire+ i n the morning.
“1 tried many tonics, tut l*eruna
wa* the only thing which helved me
In the least. Alter I had taken but
a half bottle / felt much better. 1
enu ti nued it* use ft/t'three iveeksaud
1 was coinylctely restored to health,
and uas able to take up my studies
which l had been forced to drop.
There is nothing belter than Tcruua
to build up the st/s:cm. ,, ~ Clemen
tina tlon sales.
Address The I’eruna Medicine Co., of
Columbus, Ohio, for instructive free liltra-
turc on catarrh.
Of Course Not.
“No,” remarked the young man,
with a touch of sadness in his voice.
“It may be that seme day happiness
will be mine, but at present it is be
yond me. There is a girl whom I
love dearly. She woul 1 have me if
I only asked her, hut I dare not. I
really cannot marry and live on a
thousand a year.”
His two friends to whom he spoke
looked at him in wonder. For a mo
ment they were speechless—conster
nation and pity depicted on their
youthful countenances. But presently
returned to them exactly at
the same time and they fairly howled
in their excitement:
“You can’t marry on a thousand a
year? Why not?”
“Whv not?” echoed the youth, with
a sad voice, which grew still sadder.
“Why. simply because I haven't got
the thousand.”
And the mystery was explained.—
Tit-Bits
I.es* Expensive Roads.
The town boards of Oneida County,
N. Y., make the following suggestion:
“We would not recommend that every
town in this county have built within
its borders a road costing on the aver
age $7000 a mile, as we believe each
town should govern itself according
to its own local conditions, but we
have provided figures to show that no
matter whether a town has a high or
a low assessed valuation, it could, un
der the $50,000,000 bond issue, if its
own board so desired, have, without
excessive taxation, just as wide and
just as exp?nsive roads as any other
towns in any other part of ibe State.
If the county and town c-.nn devise
methods by which the roads to be built
should have an average cost of $4000
a mile instead of $8000 a mile, the
charge to tiie town under the bond is
sue for each mile of highway built
would be $.”0 for each mile the first
year; and to the county, the increase
in taxes the first year for each mile of
highway would be $70; and to the
State it would be $100, In other
words, under the $50,000,060 bond is
sue of the State, county arid town
could obtain a road costing $4000 a
mile at an increase in their annual
tax levy of $”00, which under the
present system of payment would call
for the expenditure of $4000 in cash,
or under tiie bond issue^they could ob
tain a road costing $8000 a irfilc for an
increase in their tax levies of $400 in
place of raising $8000 in cash, as pro
vided by the present method.
“Under the bond issue each town and
county is free to select as expensive a
road or as cheap a road as the local
conditions require.”—Tribune !■ armer.
Automobile That Burns AAood.
The impossibility of securing the nec
essary supplies of petroleum or gas
oline make it obligatory upon the Bel
gian Government, which recently de
cided to establish an automobile ser
vice in the Congo Free State to adopt
steam as a motor power. Coal’could be
secured in only limited quantities, and
that near the seashore; wood was
therefore the only logical fuel, as it
could be found everywhere. -
The wood-burning car weighs a ton
and has a capacity of a tou, with a
maximum speed of twelve .miles an
hour. Sheet steel wheels with heavy
pneumatic tires are used. Tfte flfteeu-
'torse-power engine is inclosed'in a bul
let-proof bonnet, as these vesicles are
to be used in transporting iroops to
keep order in distant parts of-the State
and are expected to be undir fire at
times. The water-tank has dl capacity
iiiffieifnt for a twenty-five ir^ie trip.
Live Milliners-. 1
A lady who was cycling i'ear Bex-
iiill felt something strike her head, and
found that a sparrow, in its flight
across the road, had impaled^ itself on
her hatpin, which was protruding
about two inches. The bird died from
its injury.—London Chronicle.
-■ ■ ■ -4»
Geu> Teas.
Gem teas are London’s latest craze.
About six weeks ago Lord Crofton
invited his friends to a “gem tea” at
his house in Sloane street, and there
l>*ve been lovely displays of old and
new jewels at other houses.—The Gen-
Mewoman.
Why it Do;s Not Matter How Many
Troubles You Have in Life.
A young Englishman once failed tc
pass the medical examination oc
which he thought his future depend
ed.
"Never mind," he said to himself
“What is the next thing to be done?"
and he found that policy of "never
minding” and going on to the next
thing, the most important of all poli
cies for practical life. When he had
become one of the greatest scientists
of the age. Huxley looked back upon
his early defeat and wrote:
“It does net matter how many tum
bles you have in life, so long as you
do not get dirty when you tumble.
It is only the people who have to
stop and be washed who must lose
the race.”
Twenty years ago Lindon Bates, of
Chicago, was compelled, through lack
of funds, to discontinue his course at
the Sheffield Scientific School and be
gin work for a railread. Some years
later he secured the contract for
building two miles of the Chicago
drainage canal, and invented for use
there a dredping-machine, which at
tracted Immediate attention. Today
the Volgar River is being dredged by
the machines, a. dozen rivers and
ports in Australia and Tasmania, the
’ifficuit harb-r of C ileum and anoth°r
at Antwerp. The International Con
gress of Navigation recently awarded
hlrn a gold medal; and noon hydrau
lic enginering in navigation he i?
ranked as the highest living author
ity.
To assert that present defeat is not.
incompatible with future success is
merely to repeat one of those funda
mental tru’hs which, like submerged
piers, supports the bridge of life.
The stone which turns the brook into
a wider channel is not an obstruc
tion. Defeat is as different from fail
ure as the two points in the adven
ture of the diver: One when, a beg
gar, he prepares to plunge; one
when, a prince, he rises with his
pearl.
Th
The
-in—VrVrr
peace ha
thousand
Personal Argument.
Squire Underwood, who
—ere—yue^.i r-c—rr4—T-ih-er-
The Pay cf College Athletes.
The most difficult questions that
now assail the management of the
American colleges are how to pay tne
professors larger salaries and how to
make the athletes work for nothing,
the latter question Is the harder of
the two. Mr. Carnegie has helped
with the problem of the professors’
pay, and several of the older universi
ties are raising big funds to the same
end; but to keep the athletes from
drawing salaries is a more complicat
ed matter. It is accepted in all the
colleges that players and contestants
in intercollegiate games must be
amateurs; players, that is, who do
not play, and have never played, for
hire. Just as the Elkins law drives
the railroad lawyers to the concoct
ing of devices whereby unlawful re
bates may lawfully be paid, and
drives freight-agents to dark trans
actions and unrevealed bargains, so
the acceptances of the law of ama
teurs seems to drive the college law
yers and the team managers to de
vices by which useful amateurs may
lawfully be hired, or may be paid
surreptitious wages without its com
ing to public knowledge.—Harper's
Weekly.
administered the oath to
of witnesses, was sum-
mcrnert'js+msrnlt to appear as a witness
In a case before a circuit judge.
When he was requested to stand up
and be sworn, he lifted his hand and
s'Ud, “I prefer to affirm, if you please.”
The affirmation was administered
to him, and he gave his testimony.
After he had left the courtroom an
old friend of his, a doctor, took him
to task.
"Squire,” he said, “you give the oath
to lots of people. Why don’t you take
it yourself?”
“Doctor,” he answered, “you fre
quently prescribe ipacac to patients,
don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you ever take it yourself?”
“N-n".” said the doctor.—Youth’s
Companion.
Following Instructions.
“Children,” said the teacher, in
structing the class in composition,
••you should not attempt any flights
of fancy; simply be yourselves and
write what is in you. Do not imi
tate any other person’s writings or
draw inspiration from outside
sources.”
As a result of this advice Tommy
Wise turned out the following com
position: “We should not attempt
any flights of fancy, but write what
is in us. In me there is my stum-
mick, lungs, hart, liver, two apples,
one piece of pie, one stick of lemon
candy, and my dinner."—Tit-Bits.
West Virginia's Great Tree.
The largest tree in West Virginia,
the big elm on the Hood farm near
Shinnston, is to he cut down imme
diately because it s’ands in the right
of way of the Fairmount and Clarks
burg Traction Company's proposed
car line. This old tree was made
famous by a novel, “The Daughters
of the Elm,” one of the principal
characters of the book having lived
almost in its‘shadow. The elm Is
eleven feet across and will be used
for crcssties for the railway,—Cincin
nati Enquirer.
NOT SO PRESUMPTUOUS AS
THAT.
“What are you doing with that
sheet of paper Orville?’’ sharply ask
ed his wife.
“I an: making a wish,” answered
Mr. Meekun.
“A wish?”
“Yes, my dear. In your presence
1 shall not presume to call it a will.”
—Chicago Tribune.
STOP, WOMAN!
With an Old Knickerbocker Ring.
A charming bit of sentiment has
fixed the wedding day of one of the
most interesting girls in New York
society and a scion of one of the most
distinguished Knickerbocker families.
December 14 has been selected as the
date of the wedding of Miss Dorothy
Manson and Kiliaen Van Rensselaer.
On December 14, 1627, the first of the
patroons, Kiliaen Van Rensselaer, was
married to Miss Anna Van Weyler.
It was that same Kiliaen Van Rens
selaer, the Amsterdam diamond mer
chant, who bought from the Indians
Ronsselaerwick. It was the largest
private estate owned by one man in
the New World, and comprised the
present counties of Albany, Rensse
laer and Columbia. Kiliaen Van Ren
sselaer, Jr., is a direct descendant of
the first patroon. To him has been
handed down the ring the first Kiliaen
Van Rensselaer pinned upon the hand
of Anna Van Weyler, and that same
ring will lie used at the ceremony
next December. It is perhaps the
most valued heirloom possessed by
any member of the Van Rensselaer
family.—New York World.
FITSpermaiioutly cured. No tits ornervous-
ness after first day’s use of L>r. Kline’s Groat
NerveItestorer.titriat boltloand treatise free
Dr.lf. tl. Kline, Ltd.,031 Arch St., Phiia., Pa.
Japan's rice crop for the year of 1904 \vu.
263,692,355 bushels.
Mrs.Winslow's So >thing Syrup for Children
teething,soften th j gums,reduces inflamma
tion,allays pain,cures wind colic, 25c.a bottle
Plans to build electric street car lines in
Pekin aroused nrotest.
AND CONSIDER
THE ALL-
IMPORTANT FACT
7
ll
That in address
ing Mrs. Pink-
ham you are eon-
fidingyour private
ills to a woman—
a woman whose experi
ence with women’s
diseases covers a great
many years.
You can talk freely
to a woman when it is
revolting to relate
your private trou
bles to a man—
besides a man
does not under
stand—simply be
cause he is a tt’.an
M a n y women
suffer in silence and drift along from
bad to worse, knowing full well that
they ought to have immediate assist
ance, but a natural modesty impels
them to shrink from exposing them
selves to the questions and probably
examinations of even their family
physician. It is unnecessary. Without
money or price you can consult a wo
man whose knowledge from actual ex
perience is great.
Mrs Plnkham’s Standing Invitation.
Women suffering from any form of
female weakness are i nvited to promptly
communicate with Mrs. Pinkham, at
Lynn, Mass. All letters are received,
opened, read and answered by women
only. A woman can freely talk of her
private illness to a woman; thus has
been established tiie eternal confidence
between Mrs. Pinkham and the women
of America which has never been
broken. Out of the vast volume of
experience which she has to draw from,
it is more than possible that she has
gained the very knowledge that will
help your case. She asks nothing in
return except your good-will, and her
advice has relieved thousands. Surely
any woman, rich or poor, is very foolisL
if she does not take advantage of this
generous offer of assistance.
If you are ill. don't hesitate to get a
bottle of Lydia E. Pinkham’sVegetable
Compound at once, and write Mrs. Pink
ham, Lynn. Mass., for special advice.
When a medicine has been successful
in restoring to health so many women,
you cannot well say, without trying it,
” I do not believe it will help me.”
Dyspepsia,
SICK HEADACHE,
CONSTIPATION
Promptly ami Permanently Cured with
Crab
Orchard
Water
A century’s experience with successful
results is tiie best testimonial. Sold by all
druggists.
Crab Orchard Water Co.,
LOUISVILLE, KY.
Avery & Company
SUCCESSORS TO
AVERY & McMILLAN,
51-53 South Forsyth St., Atlanta, Gft.
—ALL KINDS OK—
MACHINERY
FOR i
'a/a
To better advertise the South’* Lending
Business College, four scholarships are of
fered young persons of this countyat less than
cost. WRITE TODAY.
GA-ALA, BUSINESS COLLEGE. Macon. Ga
55
Reliable Frick Engines. Boilers, all
Sizes. Wheat Separators, '
BEST IMPROVED SAW MILL ON EARTH.
Large Engines and Boilers supplied
promptly. Shingle Mills, Corn Mills,
Circular Saws,Saw Teeth,Patent Dogs,
Steam Governors. Full line Engines &
Mill Supplies. Send for free Catalogue.
(Af35 05)
'fm -3*^ -sac -tm
-HSL -SL -fyK
EC I Zh. I O U S
BIX^IOUS E£ I E-. TO
13 THE OKEAf SPECIFIC
FOR BILI0J3NES 3, MALA
RIA. CHILLS AND FE 7E--t3
Made in Regular and Tasteless Forms. For sale j)/ all Druggists.
Manufactured by PAT TO N-WOR3HAIV1 DHUC Cii.,
Price 50 Cents. Dallas, Tex. and Memphis, Tens.
OXIDINE
Insuring a Chimpanzee.
Some years ager, says a writer in
Leslie’s Monthly Magazine, Frank
Ttncitnok, the showman, had -chim
panzee that ’seciuch wen nigh hu
man. It wore clothes, it brushed its
hair, it carried a walking stick, and |
it ate its meals with knife and fork, i
Bostock paid a comparatively small
sum for it. when it was fresh from j
the jungle, hut just before it died he 1
carried $50,000 insurance upon its
life. And even had you offered him
$50,000 cash for it, you could not
have bought it. It -was the star at
traction at his exhibition, and thou
sands crowded about its platform,
day after day. for months.
One advantage of growing-
that remembered b}
one Uu not have to be
made again when a new/ chance to
go wrong is offered.
WET WEATHER. WISDOM!
THE ORIGINAL ,32
v
I am sure Piso's Cure for Consumption saved
my iifetlireo years ago.—Mrs. Thomas Ron-
kkts. Maple St.. Xorwieli, N.Y., Feb. 17,1900
Priceless nit treasurer were destroyed by
tire at the Castle of Lielitenwalde.
Avoid Yellow t'ever,
t’se tiie great antiseptic preventative,
8loan’s Liniment. Six drops of Sloan’s
Liniment on a tea spoonful of sugar will
kill yellow fever and malaria germs.
Whistler is said to have had a hundred
sittines for one portrait.
Is It Right 7
Is it right for you to lose $4.20 that a
dealer may make 50 cents more by selling
fourteen gallons of ready-for-use paint, at
.*1.50 ner gallon, than our agent will make
by selling you eight gallons of L. & M , and
.*ix gallons of linseed oil, which make four
teen gallons of a better paint, at $1.20 per
gallon? Is it right?
Sold everywliere and by Longman &
Martinez, New York. Paint Ms leers for
Fiftv Years.
SENATOR SULLIVAN
Soy* He Has Found I>oan’* Kidney Pills
Invaluable In Treating Sink Kidneys.
Hou. Timothy D. Sullivan, of New
York, Member of Congress from the
Eighth New York District and one of
tiie Democratic
leaders of New |
York S t a t e, j
strongly recoin- j
mends Doan’s
Kidney Pills.
Senator Sulli-
F: van writes: i
It is a pleas- 1
tire to endorse a
remedy like
Doan’s Kidney |
Pills, having ;
found them of tiie greatest value in i
eliminating tiie distress caused by sick |
kidneys, and in restoring those organs ;
to a condition of health. My experi
ence with your valuable remedy was
equally as gratifying as that ot several ;
of my friends. Yours truly,
(Signed)
TIMOTHY D. SULLIVAN.
Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y.
For sal<‘ by all druggists. Price, 50
cents per box.
Journalism.
There was recently a big fire in a
small town in Devonshire, and a jour
nalist pushed his way through the
crowd to the cordon of police sur- ,
rounding the burning building.
"Where are you going?” demanded
a constable.
“I'm a reporter: I want to get some
particulars about tiie fire,” was the ,
reply.
re, get out of this,” said the
the newspaper J
SLlCKm
\ K- SLACK OR YELLOW
' WILL KEEP YOU DRY
NOTHING ELSE Will
TAKE NO SUD5TITUTW
catalogucs rnce
SHOWING FULL LINE OF GARMENTS AND HATS
A. J. TOWER CO., EOSTON. MASS.. U.S.A.
1 OWED CAN AO I AN CO., LTD., TORONTO. CANADA.
'‘H»Ttng talreo your wonderful “CntrAreU” fot
Ihreo month* nrd liciuc er.tiroiy curd of stomach
catarrh and dysynpsia, I thinls a word of praise la
duo to“Clascal<stv’for theirwonde.ful composition.
1 have taken numcioue other so-called remedie*
but without avail and I find that Cagerirts rcilev*
more In a day than all the others 1 have taken
Would In a year.”
James McGune, 109 Mercer £t., Jersey City, N. J*
ftesl for
1 t*. rf-s The Bowels
wmwmo.
CANDY CATHARTIC
Pleasant, Palatable, Potent Xante Good, Do Good,
Never Sicken, Weaken or 10c, 23c, 50c. N'evef
sold in bnlk. The cenuine tablet stamped C C 0.
Suar-iutcod to cure or your money buck.
Steiling Remedy Co., Chicago or N.Y. 59*
ANNUAL SALE, KILU38 BOXES
“Here, get o
0*
>ri3t
able, pus]
IT.
an
back into
r r
•ad
all about
rr
nrr<
iw.”—The
FOR WOW1EM _
troubled with ills peculiar to '''x*_ _
their sex, used as a douche ft rrarvelously suc
cessful. Thoroughly clraa v t. kills disease germs,
stops discharges, heels safUrnmat: ,a and local
soreness, cures leucortacea r.nd nasal catarrh.
Paxtine is in powder form lo be dissolved in puro
water, and is far more clctmlng, hca!.i.g,jgurmicuiat
and economical than li jihd antiseptics for au
TOILET AND WOMEN'S SPECIAL USES
For sale a: druygistc, 50 rents a box.
Trial Box and Book cf Instructions Free.
Thi R. Paxton Company Doston, Ma«®.
Tiie State Charities Aid Association re
ports that insanity has largely increased
in New York.
SALT RHEUM ON HANDS
STILL ANOTHER SYSTEM.
Automobilist (recovering from in
jury)—Isn’t that a pretty stiff bill,
doctor ?
Surgeon—You don’t suppose I’m go
ing to let the repair men do al! the
getting rich out of this business, do
you?—Chicago Tribune.
THE REAL DIFFICULTY.
Fluahy—-It must take remarkable
skill to raise a check.
Hardup—Oh, I don’t know! It’s
hoar to get hold of It in the first place
t'ftat l can t see through.—Detroit
t?ee Press.
SufTereil Agony ami Had to Wear llaiKlage*
All the Tl 1110—Another Cure by Cutlcura.
Another cure by Cuticura is told of by
Mr.-. Caroline Cable, of Waupoca, YVi*., in
1 iie following gratf ial letter: “My husband
suffered agony with sait rheum on his
hand.*, and i had to keep them bandaged
aii the time. We tried everything we
coiild get. hut nothing helped him until he
;ued Cuticura. One set of Cuticura Soap,
Ointment and I’ilis cured him entirely,
and his hands have been as smooth as pos
sible ever since. I hope this letter will be
tiie means of helping other sufferers.”
Great Britian’s government" has de
eided to secure and protect for the
nation the ancient ramparts erected
by Edward I around the town of L»er-
wic-k-on-Tweed.
!H0ZLE¥’$
LEMON ELIXIR.
Is not a new and untried remedy.
More than ,'b of a Century attests
its wonderful curative and health-
jrjving properties, and serves to
show that it lias no eo'ial as a cure
for Constipation, li-’iousness. Indi
gestion. Sick-Head-.che, and all
other ills arising from a
TORPID UVER.
neir.g strictly a vegetable com
pound, it has no harmful or even
unpleasant effects. Its action ts
gentle hut none the less thorough-
cleansing the stomach and bowels
of all impurities, and toning up the
entire system to a healthy con
dition-leaving the person feeling
good, because every organ is ma e
to perform its part perfectly.
50C. AND $1.00 A BOTTLE. AU 0B«C STORES.
“One Dose Convinces.”
Dropsy
CURED
Gives
Gucgk
heirjf.
Removes nil swelling in 8 to 20
rv
aeivcni
I Write Dr. H. H. Green’s Sons.
(Specialists, Box b Atlanta, Qa.
| n *|-r r* n Addre** of fll persons of
A NT t D ” i^ihv :n Mh^ny WibJ
s si v&ar vc. sn&isa
denbd pension 011 ■•'•count * r F I5
marriage, til of men who -erved in thefed-
-rsl •rtny, or (6) 'h* n<-iiri--. kin ot such
■Mildlvr* or sail' rs. n- w flr-< -a**o.
NATHAN BICKIOltn. Attorney,
%V'u.«ibSntfton* »>• A •
. m*. ALL SEWING MA«
(CfitNEv Standard Goods
1 Only. Free v a.t«Jc4ue to
! Dealers. BLELOOK
I MFQ. CO.. 913 LocsmE
1 St., ST. LOUIS, MO.
NEEDLES,
SHUTTLES,
REPAIRS.
, D uukis WhEr£ Alt Its- fAiiS. 1
Best Cough Syrup. Tastes (L od. Uee I
In time. Sold by dnigglata.
CONSUMPTION
IS
cure, or money refunded by your merchant^ so why not try It? Price 90c.
.■mm