OXFORD PUBLIC LEDGER, FRIDAY AUGUST 27, 1909
7
DUE OF
THE WOODS,
It Wasn't a Witch He Caught,
but His Ideal of a Girl.
By M. WOODRUFF NEWELL.
Copyright, 1009. by Associated Literary
Press.J
Andrew Salisbury was on his vaca
tion when he met his fate.
A severe attack of typhoid had put
felxn considerably on the bias, so that
fee welcomed a quiet recuperating old
farmhouse "twenty miles from a lem
mu" as a desired haven and went there
for a summer's sojourn the 1st of
July.
The old couple with whom he board
d were one Lemuel Merxiwether and
Sds wife, and they worried constantly
4or fear he should have a relapse.
"I'm very apt to," Andrew assured
Xhem often, "being so weak, you know.
The delirium especially is likely to
.return."
Being a louc young bachelor, he en
Joyed their anxiety in his behalf and
Trorked shamelessly on their sympa
thies. "My heaven!" exclaimed Mrs. Merri
wether the morning that he told her
j. xi r - i I x.
vxiai, mruwiug away a raisiu iuai sue
was seeding and putting the seeds into
tie cake in her excitement.
"Oh, it's a very sad disease!" con
tinued Andrew pensively, reaching for
&3s fifth cooky.
Then he took his camera and went
at for a morning's prowl through the
broods."
The country was in its summer
glory, and just before he started back
to the house he took the picture that
vtarted the trouble.
He had been walking along by the
river, andf struck by a clump of birch
treea thai jrlnged a dim woodland
path, lie trained his camera on it and
nought the finder. He smiled happily
as he saw the picture it made the
aUm young trees with the long path
winding up behind them.
"That's fine!" he told himself and.
holding the camera steady, snapped it.
He could scarcely wait to get home to
develop it.
Mrs. Merriwether saw him coming
and exclaimed anxiously, "Gracious
me, boy, Where's the fire?"
"Got a prize package," he answered
solemnly.
Mrs. Merriwether, honest soul, stared
after him.
"You don't suppose, now, the heat's
-affected his bead, do you?" she whis
pered to Lemuel as he came up from
the barn a little later.
"He's been on the go all day in the
hot sun, and after such a fever as he
had he's liable to have spells of
looney, you know he said so. I just
asked him .what he was hurrying so
lor, and he said he had a prize pack
age, aiid I declare to goodness I didn't
. see nothing but that old camera!"
"Shoo, shoo, mother, the boy's all
right. It's probably just some of his
lunny business."
If they had seen "the boy" at that
precise moment they would probably
- . i n ji
have been .re ausiouSi. man tney
'were about him.
He was looking at the developed
film with startled eyes. His hands
shook as he held it up dripping be
tween him and the small ruby lamp on
the table.
"By George!" he said and put it'
through the bath again.
A second time he held it up and scru--tlnized
it in the dim red glow.
"By gum" he said, "it's a witch or
I'm going looney!"
There was the path stretching out al
luringly into the woods beyond. There
.were the b'-ch trees, tall and slender
and beautiful, 'and there, just beyond
them, peering out between two mass
ive oak tree trunks that bordered the
path, was a girl or a witch or a dry
ad, with laughing lips, flying hair and
an extraordinary eighteenth century
gown.
"How the dickens!" puzzled Andrew.
''Tt's'somethrng on the "film.-- There
couion t naye- beeiv a real gin mere.
alone,. Lord, there ain't one within
twenty milc-ii! She surely wouldn't
walk "lhat far, and there" was 'no team
ict sight, and, anyway, what I would a
girl of Revolutionary days be doing
here?"
He washed the film carefully and
put it through the hypo bath. Then ho
wasnea it again ana. nangmg it up to
lry, went down to supper.
There he talked at random, his mind
heing full of the mysterious picture.
His remarks were so rambling that
they confirmed every suspicion that
Mother Merriwether had formed that
afternoon
"He's off!" she whispered sharply to
Iiemuel outside the kitchen door. "It's
the heat. He's 'way off. Just see how
funny he talks. If he ain't better in
the morning we'll have Dr. Snow come
over. We'll have to watch him with
out his knowing -it. We must be
mighty careful not to excite him. Oh,
goodness, ain't it awful, that poor boy
My, but typhoid's a fearful disease."
Lemuel, vastly alarmed, was in
Btantly "on . to his job." For a watch
dog he proved Al. Andrew had diffi
culty in shaking him off long enough
to go to the dark room at bedtime,
The film was almost dry, and he
fcould scarcely wait until the next day
To make a print of it.
When morning came, however, he
found Lemuel sticking closer than a
brother. Wherever he went Lemuel
Jent also, and when Lemuel had to
leave him long enough to see about his
Utr?tTjtwh?re he left
j. uueaienuy tooK up
I-PHL
"
Andrew, impatient and totally uncon
scious of their anxieties in his behalf,
jluntly locked his door in her very
ace and, getting out his printing
raine, settled down to business.
The sunshine was bright in his south
irindow, and he had a print complet
ed in quick time. He held it to. the
ight excitedly, the water dripping
.to in it.
"Christmas, it's a goddess!" he ejac
ulated. She peered out at him, her laughing
face round and mischievous. Her
dress was of olden style, with huge
panniers at the side and a trim, laced
bodice with a low French neck and
little puff sleeves. One tiny foot stuck
out saucily in a high heeled French
boot.
Andrew g tared at her amazed. The
arched eyebrows and delicate face
were patrician. She might have just
stepped out of some old French paint
ing. Why had he not noticed her as
he snapped the picture? It was all
mysterious. Then he heard Mr. Merri
wether's step outside and called tc
him:
"Any little French court ladies
around here?" he inquired.
Andrew opened the door, and Lemuel
came in, a puzzled expression on his
honest old face.
"Not that I know of," he answered.
"Well, then, I'm seeing things,"
laughed Andrew, "because I saw one
in the woods yesterday, puffs and ruf
fles and high heeled shoes."
"You did?" exclaimed Lemuel slow
ly. "You did, eh?'
Then, to Andrew's surprise, Lemuel
quickly took the key from the lock
and, putting it in again on the outside
of the door, went out, locking it behind
him.
Andrew pounded and yelled In rage
and surprise, but all to no purpose. A
half hour went by; then a carriage
drew up to the door, and a second lat
er Lemuel unlocked Andrew's door and
entered, a strange gentleman with him.
"Not feeling well, I hear?" the
strange gentleman remarked.
"First I knew of it," spluttered An
drew. "He's got a relapse," exclaimed Lem
uel. "Gone crazy like. Seeing things.
Saw a French court lady in the woods
yesterday" But he got no further.
Dr. Snow broke out into a mighly
roar.
"So you are the young gentleman?"
he said. "Let's see the picture."
Andrew brought it sulkily forth, not
yet understanding.
"It's my niece, Dianthe Barrows,"
explained the doctor after a minute,
still laughiug.
Andrew smiled. Dianthe!
How the name fitted her!
"She was attending a fancy dress
lawn party at Stratford, about six
miles up the river, on the other side.
She paddled down in her canoe and,
seeing those pretty birch trees, wan
dered into the woods, hiding her canoe
in the bushes. She saw you, but you,
of course, did not see her. She knew
that she would probably show in the
picture, as she happened to peer out
from behind the trees just as you
snapped it. She was dressed in a
French costume that used to be her
great-great-aunt's. We had a good
laugh last night when she told us
about it. We could imagine what a
surprise it vould be to the gentleman,
whoever he might be, after, the picture
was printed."
"It was," said Andrew, laughing him
self now.
!
,iJs iw siiti c 1 11 7 n witti von hrp in
town?"
The doctor smiled a little.
"Yes; for the summer. At present
she is sitting outside in my buggy,
holding the horse."
"I'll come out and meet her," said
Andrew promptly. "I always knew
I'd marry a girl named Dianthe."
No Place Like Home.
A native of Prince Edward Island
had gone forth to see the world. When
he reached Boston he engaged a room
at a modest hotel, intending to remain
there while he hunted for work.
'Will yovf register?" asked the clerk,
handing him a pen.
"Register?" said the traveler. "What
is that?"
"Write your name."
"What for;"
"We are required to keep a record
:of all our guests."
The man wrote his name and was
about to -lay down the pen when the
clerk added:
"Now the place, if you please.".
"What place?"
"The place you come" from. Where
do you live?''
"I live on the island."
"Well, but what isiand?"
The other man looked at him in
amazement. Then he said, with an
emphasis that left no doubt of his
feelings: "Prince Edward Island, man!
What other island is there?"
Social Amenities.
Little Marion was about to make her
first call unattended by a member of
the family. She was to stay a half
hour, inspect a wonderful new doll
belonging to a small friend and return
home.
"Now, Marion," was her mother's
parting admonition, "Mrs. Rogers may
ask you to stay and dine with them.
If she does, you must say, 'No, thank
you, Mrs. Rogers; I have already
dined.' "
. "I'll 'member, mamma," answered
Marion and trotted off.
The visit finished, the little girl
donned her hat and started for the
door.
"Oh, Marion," said her hostess, over
taking her in the hall, "won't you stay
and have a, bite with us?"
This was an unexpected form, and
for 'a second the child hesitated. Then
she rose to the occasion.
"No, thank you, Mrs. Rogers," she
answered quickly: "I have already bit
ten." Woman's Home Companion.
WTP m t li.il imping a r i nil i.hpm.j.,.1 M, .I, mmf T w. ..
iT'S
DEM.
An Informal Call That Had
Happy Ending.
By GARFIELD MAC NEAL.
rCopyrishted. 19CD, by Associated Literary
Press.
The chimes were still ringing as
Tom Hastings sat down in the half
darkness of the little church. He had
strolled in hoping for temporary re
lease from his bitter thoughts, but the
quiet of the place only seemed to rouse
his brain to greater activity. Yet he
could not think of his story, the story
already due at tthc publisher's. In
stead he saw only a girl's face, now
sweet and gracious as it had been be
fore the quarrel, new cold and repellent
as the past two weeks had shown it.
A strain of music broke the silence.
The choir was filing in. Hastings
glanced carelessly at the white robed
procession. The face of the first boy
caught his attention for a moment, se
rious, spiritual, framed in an aureole
of golden hair, an ideal face for a
choir boy.
But again his thoughts ran back in
the old channels to the quarrel and its
consequences. Her work had seemed
to go on as usual. She was a success
ful miniature painter at least fine car
riages often stopped at the doorway of
the big studio building, and her room
rang with feminine voices. That was
the maddening part of it. She lived
just across the hall, so he must see
her many times a day. He had made
up his mind to move. But, then, he
had such a beastly lot of traps, or per
haps it was some lingering hope that
kept him there.
. Some familiar chords on the organ
startled him. Was it the offertory al
ready? Yes, and the ideal choir boy
was singing alone. His handsome face
was flushed, and in his earnestness he
waved his sheet of music gently to
and fro.
"Oh, rest in the Lord," he sang.
Hastings leaned forward. The words
were apparently- for him. The abso
lute certainty of the boy's tones car
ried conviction.
"And he shall give thee thy heart's
desire."
The tender voice went straight to
the man's heart and comforted him.
Yes, he, too, would wait patiently,, and
perhaps some day he, too, would hitve
his heart's desire. Till then he would
wait and work.
The next two weeks went by very
differently. Under the press of a new
enthusiasm the book seemed to write 1
itself. The last sheet had gone in t
the publisher, and he had always worn
a smiie when he met the girl on the
stairs. Her bow7 was still as freezing
but he only smiled again and hummed
the few bars from "Elijah," "And he
shall give thee thy heart's desire."
Again Hastings sat in the little
church. Perhaps his choir boy would
sing for him. But the figure of the
small leader drooped. In the glare ct
the choir lights his face showed white
and haggard, while his eyes were swoll
en from weeping. A wave of pity
went over the watching man. It might
now be his turn to comfort. The sweet
soprano voice was low and broken.
Hastings determined to find the
meaning of the change, so he lingered
after the service, and a kind faced cu
rate told him the sad little story.
"You mean Jack Haines? He has
just lost his mother consumption and
the poor little fellow is left all alone.
He is being cared foe by neighbors,
but we must find him a place in some
charity school."
That delicate child in a charity
school ! Hastings could not bear the
thought of it. The face of the child
and his own loneliness helped him to
come to a sudden resolution. His voice
was very eager as he said, "Let me
have him."
And so Jack came to live in the big
studio building. Slowly the roses came
back to his cheeks. He did not forget
the pretty 'nother who had gone to
sleep so qutly, but he haunted this
new big brother like a shadow and
crept into his arms to cry away the
grief that time was trying to heal.
But it worried Hastings that the lad
should be so solemn. . When he came
in and found the boy poring over some
big book ho would half -'laughingly '
scold him for turning into such a little
bookworm. "You need some one to
play with, Jack," he would say. "It
is bad for you to be always cooped up
with an old fellow like me." Tom was
only thirty, but somehow he had felt
very old and settled since that night.
But Jack always declared that he
didn't want to be with any one else,
and he was such a shy child that
Hastings forbore to press the point.
He was therefore much surprised
one afternoon on coming in to find the
rooms empty. Where could Jack be?
As the minutes went by, bringing no
boy, he became really anxious. The
janitor had not seen him. He was
returning from fruitless inquiries when
he stopped short at a burst of child
ish laughter. Could it be Jack? He
never laughed like that. But, yes; il
was his voice, and it came from the
girl's rooms. . -
Hastings hesitated. And now the
girl laughed. It was the same saucy
little laugh he had loved so much in
the days gone by. It decided him. She
had stolen his property and should
answer for the theft. He knocked
boldly on the door.
Silence. He knocked again. Evi
dently they did not hear him. So he
turned the knob and entered the for
bidden chamber.
Surprising sight! On the floor in
true Turkish style sat the stately Miss
Trevor. On her lap were a big sheet
of cardboard and sundry brushes and
paints.- Her hair was disheveled, and
sever El daubs of color ornamented her
aheeks and nose. Over her shoulder
hi a state of great excitement leaned
the truant Hastings hardly knew him.
His cheeks were flushed and his eyes
were dancing as he cried, "Now, that
is the way the little monkey swung
off by his tail !" His cheek was pressed
close to the girl's, and his arm rested
lovingly on her shoulder. Evidently
she had won his heart too.
Hastings felt a swift pang of jeal
ousy and started forward.
Then they heard him, and Jack
sprang up, with a cry of delight.
The girl was too loaded down to
rise, and so she sat there. Perhaps it
was the sudden flood of color to her
cheeks; perhaps it was the upward
glance of her eyes. At any rate, a sud
den light came to Hastings. For-a
moment he stood there blinded, dazed.
Then his customary coolness came to
his aid. It .was his turn to carry
things with a high hand, and be must
make the most of it.
His eyes challenged hers as he said:
"How long have you been a receiver
of stolen goods, Miss Trevor? I am
glad to see that you- have the -- grace to
blush for your sins, even under your
paint."
Jack was quite shocked. "She did
not steal me," he protested. "I was
lonely, and I was waiting for you in
the hall, and she asked me to come in,
and I came, and we've had a beautiful
time," he added in a joyous outburst.
"That's just as bad," Hastings an
swered severely. "You mean to say
that she enticed you in here."
Jack was speechless. The girl had
said nothing.
"You might at least invite me to sit
down since you are so comfortable,"
Hastings went on, "and let me join in
the beautiful time, though I don't
know, on second thought, that it isn't
pleasanter standing. It is so unusual
to see you at my feet."
Miss Trevor started to scramble up,
but two strong hands lifted her gently
into a big chair. It was a new experi
ence to her to be either commanded or
helped. But she did not seem to mind
it nor to notice that he was still hold
ing her hands. Both had forgotten
Jack as Hastings bent over her and
asked, "Are you glad that I have
come?"
Jack is delighted with it all, but he
never will understand why Tom al
ways calls the girl "Heart's Desire"
when her name is Alice.
Easily Coaxed.
The new schoolteacher had a talk
with Mrs. Hobart one day in regard
to discipline. "I don't see how you
manage Bobby as well as you do,"
said the teacher. "I like him, but he's
such a mischievous little fellow, and
he will not mind, yet every one says
he minds you. I wish you'd explain
it to me."
'Well," said Mrs. Hobart doubtfully.
"I'd just as soon tell you, but I'm
afraid it won't help you much. You
see, I kind of ccax him."
"Coax him!" echoed the teacher.
"Yes," said Mrs. Hobart, "that's what
I do. I say to him, 'Now, come, Bobby,
wouldn't you rather be mother's good
boy and have griddlecakes and sirup
for supper and play games till 8
o'clock than have just plain bread
and milk that's been through the sep
arator and go to bed right after it,
with the curtains drawn so you can't
see the stars?'
"I can most always coax him that
way.
"Once in awhile, if he's real set to
be naughty, I'll say, 'See here, Bobby,
which 'd you rather have mother fry
you some doughnuts or cut a little
willow switch, not so very . little,
either?'
"I can coax him that way sure if
the other fails." Youth's Companion.
Giving Her the Benefit.
The dressmaker looked at the bill
which had been made out for the plain
little frock and then threw up her
hands in horror. "That will never do,"
she said emphatically. "Twenty for
making and .$3.13 for findings. How
would that appear oh paper, $23.13!
Why, the lady would look upon the
frock as hoodooed and imagine that
every time she wore it it would bring
her bad luck. Here; let me have tl.o
list of findings." She figured rapidly
and soon had the bill $24.37.
'"There," s'ie said contentedly, "that
will satisfy her. And she will be still
more pleased when I discount thV i
change and accept an even $21."
"Bui," sail the girl who had made
out the bill, "isn't that somewhat of.
an overcharge?" .
"Oh, well," answered the dressmaker1, j
"an overcharge isn'tnearly as bad as j
an unlucky number. Besides, I couldn't j
very well charge her less than the real j
amount, couid I?" New York Press.
Animals as Weathrer Prophets.
Before a rainstorm a cat nearly al
ways washes its face. Why? Some
claim that the atmosphere excites the
electricity in the cat's fur, and to over
come the tingling sensation she sets to
washing herself.
Or if there is no cat in the house you
may possess a parrot. If the bird sits
down and makes a sort of hissing
noise, look cut for rain in the night.
One need seldom fear getting wet in
the country. Horses, cows, sheep,
hogs, dogs all evince certain peculiar
ities before a storm. Dogs bury bones;
horses fidget and neigh; cows lie down;
hogs grunt.
Some day you may walk into a field
and see a Coc k of sheep in a corner, all
with their backs turned to the north
west. If you wait, long enough you
will feel a-wind blow up from that di
rection. London Answers.
x - Space.
"Nobody realizes the Immensity of
Space." .'. -?' .
"Except the man who has to fill a
daily half column with alleged humor."
Ixroisville Courier-Journal. : ?
A FATAL F
R ENDSKIP
Devotion of Princess Lamballe
to Marie Antoinette.
SLAIN BY A PARISIAN MOB.
The Assassination of the Princess,
Who Escaped and Returned to Com
fort Her Friend, Was One of the
Worst Acts of the Reign of Terror.
It was in the historic Carignano
palace at Turin that the Princess Lam
balle was born. Her father was Louis
Victor of Carignan, of the royal house
of Sardinia and Savoy.
Her childhood was spent in Turin
during the period that followed the
defeat of the French through the bril
liant military tactics of Prince Eugene
of Vienna. At; eighteen she was mar
ried to Stanislaus, son of the Duke of
Penthievre of France.
The chief place of this -duchy was
the town of Lamballe, about fifty
miles from Rennes. The Prince de
Lamballe died in one year, and as soon
as etiquette allowed a marriage with
Louis XV. was contemplated. This
did not go into effect, however, and
the princess withdrew from the court.
She met Marie Antoinette when that
princess first came to Paris, and they
were mutually attracted and became
friends. The Princess de Lamballe
saw the dangers to which this young
foreigner was exposed, and when Ma
rie Antoinette became queen of France
in 1774 and appointed the princess su
perintendent of the royal household she
enteretl upon her duties with the sym
pathetic understanding of a loyal
friend. The closest ties of affectionate
regard drew these two young royal
personages together. Through the care
less gayety of court life the Princess
de Lamballe was the judicious friend.
When illness came to the queen she
was faithful and devoted.
When the storm of adversity broke
over the royal family and it was ar
ranged that an escape should be ef
fected Mme. de Lamballe got safely
to England, going across from Dieppe,
but the royal family were arrested a
Varennes and declared traitors to
France.
Mme. de Lamballe's devotion was so
true she at once hastened back to
Paris to be with the queen. Her
friends urged and implored her tc
think of the danger to herself and
pointed out that she could be of no
.real service at such a critical time.
But she knew better than they did
what a comfort her presence would be.
and her heart was entirely occupied
with the sorrows of her sovereign.
She was allowed to become a prisoner
with the royal family in the temple,
and for one week she was a cheerful
and helpful companion, full of affec
tionate arts to make the hours lsf
bitter and giving to Marie Antoinette
the loving, devoted care that only a
friend so loyal could give.
When those about the prison saw
what an influence of joy Mme. cle
Lamballe brought to the royal prison
ers an ord r was issued for her re
moval to the prison of La Force. From ;
here she was taken for a mock trial j
and offered her life if she would take
oath against the monarchy. With
scorn she refused to do this. ;
Then came one of the most terrible
acts of the period of the reign of
terror. She was delivered to the poo-
pie, -vild with the desire for blood,
and was killed in the c ourtyard of L i
Force prison. The-y stabbed her with j
sabers, cut off her head, tore her heart
from her body while it was yet pal- !
pitating 'and then dragged her body 1
through thn streets to the temple. j
On the w.iy there they stopped at a j
hairdresser's and made him rouge the j
beautiful face and friz and powder the j
hair. This man nearly died with fear j
while at this awful work. When it 1
was done and the head set on a pike. I
the long, fair curls of her pretty hair
fell about the neck. Those of thr j
mob who suggested this hideous work i
upon the head said, "Antoinette will j
now recognize her friend." - j
The heart was also put on the end i
of a pike and the route to the temple i
resumed. The. royal family were-to-!
gether, and Louis was reading to them j
j-tfhen : they- heard the sound , of ..the 1
fnloh and-joud, high voices. Suddenly
fhe: door ascopened violently jancli
they all started to their feet some men
pushed themselves pastiche guard and
shouted to the king: ''The" people 'Have
something to show you. .If you don't
wish them to bring it lip here -you
had better go to the window."
With the deadly, fear in their hearts
they did as directed and looked into
the dead and painted face of their de
voted friend and also saw her tender
. heart 'and her poor body, hacked by
the sabers of these wretches.
With a cry of horror and despair
Marie Antoinette fell into -a state of
stupor. Mine. Elizabeth ; forced ; her
into a chair, and her children clung to
her and cried with fear. .Louis.. triet.
to control his voice as he said with
pathetic dignity, "You might have
spared the queen the knowledge df
this frightful calamity." Boston
Globe.
To Make a Hit.
"You send me violets every morn,"
said the beautiful girl.
"I do," responded the ardent lover,
"no matter what the cost."
. "Quite so. Now, why not send up a
bunch of asparagus tomorrow -instead.
It would be just as expensive and
would make a big hit with pa." Pitts
burg Post. V
In adversity it -is easy to despise
life. The true, brave man is he who
can endure to be miserable. Martial.
1909
falls Drug
The Old Reliab
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Patent Medicines,
Toilet Articles.
The Prescription
Department
IS MY HOBBY.
Purity,
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No Substitution,
Quick Deivery
30 YEARS
it m nn"nn rfp
iLlni
Is what I Offer You.
Spectacles and eye glasses
fitted to your eyes orvors
money back. Prices right
from 5c to 10.
J. G. HALL,
Druggist, Oxford. N. C.
Oxford Seminary,
OXFORD, N. C
Apply for Illustrated Catalogue con.
taining full information as to course of
study, charges, etc.
F" P. HOGOOD President.
Dr L V- Henderson
DENTIST.
Office over Hamilton Drug Company.
0XF0RD.K0RTH CAROLINA
Phone Nisnber 82.
may 21st
Sale of Valuable Twn and
Country Property.
The town lots and larms hereinafter de
scribed will be sold by public auction at t!t;
court house door in Oxford on
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 20th, 190i.
said sales will be xnade to facilitate the division
of the estate of the late Johh K. Cannady,
Esq., among his heirs at law.
First. The prize house and lot situate near
the old Oxford & Henderson depot adjoining
the lots of Mr. John Webb and others, and
describ d in a deed from Ij. H. Currin and
wife to R. T. Smith, deed book 41 page m w
Register of deeds office, said lot is 120 Jeer
wide and 100 feet deep.
Second. That valuable two story residence
on north side of Alexander Ave., in the town
of Oxford. Said lot is 84x319 feet and has a
frontage ou three streets.
Third. That cottage and lot on the west
side of Granville street in the town of Oxford
adjoining ihe lands of Mrs. Sarah R. Eiliott
and others, said lot is 90x100 feet, and has ;v
good house upon it aud known as the i. .
Moore place.
Fourth. The place known as the Alexan
der Crews or poor house tract containing
1114-5 ticres. Adjoining the lands of M--Lanier,
dee'd, 11. V. Lassiter, the poor house
tract, and others for accurate description st e
deed book 49, at page 120, etc. This tract :s
about one mile from town and is a very Mi
farm. Fifth. The J. A. Crews place situate in I
iug Creek Township on east side of the I
Dam Road, adjoining the old Wm. JJarnctt
place on the East W. V. Bcummitt on tiie
north the fish dam road and B. C. Aired, on
the west, and C. W. Bryan on the south a!:i
containing 150 acres. This tract is ncavny
timbered and is a fine farm.
Sixth- That tract of land in Tally Ho i own
ship. 1 1-2 miis fmi Stem known as the
H. si-em place containing 113 acres more or
less, adjoining the lands of Win Washir. z on
and others, for accurate description sec- ott i
book 51 at-page 312.. This tract is henvii -timbered
and is a gopd farm hi n good . o -mnnity.:
Terms ?ash." Time of sale 12 in.
: . j; v- : n. h. cannai
For the heirs.:- and Exfeonior-ijf ; Jno. F. - r.: -.
-toady, dee'd.' V A. A. Hicks AU y-
NEW
Crop Turnip
For seveial years I have offered
prizes for Turnips raised from seed
purchased from my store, and this
z year;! offer three prizes as follows:
Largest Turnip one $2,00 Razor.
2nd Largest Turnip one $1.50
Hair Brush
3rd Largest Turnip one 50c Comb.
or any other goods in my store of
- the same value.
Seed to be bought from and
Turnips brought to my store and
weighed on or before
FRIDAY, NOV. 26.
Begin now to break your ground
and fertilize it. I want Granville
to be?.t the State on big turnips.
Yours for big crops generally
o and big, turnips particul arly
"The Seed and Drug Man.
Store,
S86u.