Newspapers / The Smithfield Herald (Smithfield, … / Jan. 6, 1928, edition 1 / Page 3
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Meridith Nicholson’s “BLACKSHEEP” Starts Next Tuesday In The HERALD. Don’t Miss It! Chevrons By LEONARD NASON ' % ILLUSTRATIONS BY ! IRWIN MYERS, D.S.C. Copyright by George H. Dorau Company. j WNU Service CHAPTER X J f Home. FROM a little way south of I3or deau almost to the Spanish border stretches a desolate waste! of sand, forested with pitch pine. I Shepherds live there and gatherers of pitch, and a few fisherman and during the war the French estab lished training camps for their Sen egalese and Annamite battalions among the pines. The poorest, intfst out of the way, and the worst constructed of these camps was Le Corueau. o'■ A man stood at the main gate of the camp in the early hoars of the morning, watching the details going! out to work, and the companies be-j ing marched to drill. The man wasi Sergeant Kadie and it was the morning after his arrival at Let Corueau. It was cold, a damp, raw! wind that kept the thermometer j hovering around the freezing pointi drove before it a cold rain, and the! marching men bent their heads against it. What a useless thing an overseas cap In a rain! Eadie had breakfasted on sour hash and bacon, with a cupful of cof fee grounds to wash It down with. He hud slept in his clothes and over coat, but even then he had been cold. First call from drill bad blown, and then assembly, but Ea ;rv. die bad not assisted at roll call. Fit £ bad been in this camp before and be knew that it would be se 'eral days before his name would appear on the roster. He had also gone away from this camp the last time without the formality of a travel order. “F think I’ll do it again,” mnt ■ tered the sergeant. ‘‘It’s cold, though, now, and the trains don’t run to the front any more. Where j would a guy go?” J" Yet why rush away? He had , dnly been here n few hours. They 1 '1 might be going to send him home from here after all. Le Corneau j was the artillery replacement camp! : for the A. E. F. mid would be tin 1 logical plac to send an artillery-1 maw who had.no outfit. He couldn’t expect to go home all by himself, like a returning tourist. And his nurse friend had said she had seen his name on the order to go home. Yell, but when? The whole A. E. F., was going home some day. Eadie faced the other way and I looked at tin wall of forest across J the road. The last time he had j been here be used to go into those! woods every day and lie up under i the pines until the hopr for drill j was over. It had been summer then : and warm. The pines looked dreary i enough now. dripping,with rain and ! swaying in the wind. Still the ser- j geant had better be getting under' cover, for a man standing about I with no evident purpose would be j the prey of the first oflicer that ' went by in search of some one to cut kindling wood or dig a laterine, no matter it the man had as many stripes as u zebra on his arm. Ea die turned and moved out of the gate to the road, where lie stopped to consider the best route to take.! "(Jet the h—1 back inside' that gate!” 4 horsemen there, that, riding on lliei grass beside the road. had ap proached without his hearing them. ( They were armed with pistols and; had rifles in their gun boots. "Gwan!” snarled the mnn again. “G—d d—n you, get lie h—1 back there! Where the li—I do you think you are, anyway?” Eadie still looked at the two men. They were not military po lice, for they wore no brassards., They had campaign hats, with ro(l| hat cords, and must be a part of; the permanent personnel of the camp. They had heavy, unintelli-j gent faces and cruel mouths with tobacco-stained lips. One of the: men spurred bis liorse toward the' sergeant and kicked at him"savage-1 , ly with his spurred heel/ Eadie! turned and went back inside the | gate. What good would it do him to stay in the road to resist those! two brutes? The guardhouse, per-1 haps. Even suppose he hurled a ^ rock at one of them, the other \ would shoot him down. “Killed by I accident.” the casualty list would j read. A fine ending to a military! career. The mounted men looked at him n minute or two and then I rode on. “They’re a fine pair o’ birds, ain't they?” Eadie turned. Another soldier j stood beside him, a red-faced man.j Older than Eadie, and this man ft Iso wore the campaign hat that I marked him os a member of the | camp personnel. “Them kind o’ guys are springin' up oil over France,” observed tlie i man without waiting for (Sadie's j answer. “The war is over an’ they1 ain’t afraid of bein’ sent to the lines any more. War Is hell, but it | ain’t got nothin’ on peace.” 'Til say,” agreed Eadie. *Tvo seen hard-boiled RI. P.’s In my time, hut i alwoy ki ew that under his hard-boiled skin the M. P. was just | a soldier trying to keep himself out of the guardhouse like Hie rest of* us. But those two slave drivers! They’re brutes, that’s the word. Imagine Americans putting thugs like that to guard other Ameri cans!” “How long yuh been here?” grinned the other nmn. *w*v **i've just come," said Eadie. "I was here last summer and went over the hill to get away. I’m going to do it again.” . _ . __ “Don’t.'' sni<l the other man so berly. “The guys tlint’s A. \V. O. L. is S. O. L. now. The first thing they do when they entoh ynh is to pass yuh a heatin’. There was a buddy o’ mine that went up to Bor deaux an’ hadn’t tnore’n got off the train before they had him. He was in the Casino de Lilas a month, jug gin’ rails all day. Then he got sent down here an’ got three months more for hein’ absent in Bordeaux. It didn’t make no dif ference that he was in the mill up there; he was gone a month on’ that was enough.’’ “Well, what do they do with the men here now?’’ asked Eadie. “Flow long do they keep a guy here? They used 10 send up re placements every week, hut they don’t need replacements any more.” “They send wounded men here for classification,” said the other. “A guy in A class goes back to Ids outfit, B gets duty in an cflice or gets a job in a camp like this, C gets convalescent camp, an’ D gets sent home right off. You’ll he goin’ over ln‘>, day or two If you come in yesterday. The doc looks ’em over.” ►Suppose a guy gets D class, how long before he’d go home?” ' ‘‘Oh,” said the other, “if you got D now you ought to bo home for Fourth of July. How long did it take to get the A. E. F. to France? Nigh to two years. How they gon na get ’em home any quicker?” “I guess it’s going to be a hard winter!” remarked Kadie sadly. “Jt is that.” agreed the other, “but if you go try ill* to get away an’ get caught, it’ll be lots harder!” ICadie went back to the cold bar racks. The lints were unheated and, in addition, open to any wan dering breeze. The weather was just cold enough to be raw and un comfortable, like a rainy day in late September at home. Men sat about on the double deck bunks, their hands plunged into their coat pockets and their heads sunk into their coat collars. They were all strangers to each other and no one felt like making friends with his neighbor. Each wanted to he alone with his own black thoughts. A meager dinner of slum began the afternoon. After dinner the well men marched sullenly away to drill and the sick, lame, and iazy slunk hack to the cheerless huts. The third day of his stay in Le Corneau Kadie was summoned to the company office and ordered to report to the hospital for classifi cation. “Suppose a guy is classified defi nitely,” Kadie asked the clerk, “how long before he gets shoved out of here?” “That depends on the classifica tion. If he gets D or <J lie’s liable to be here for some time.” “And A or B?” “They get sent, out pretty soon.” said the clerk “We’re always get ting calls for men.” Kadie thought deeply as he tramped across the camp to the hospital. Desertion from the camp was impossible, lie had made sure of that. The roads, were patrolled by cavalry, the camp provost de tachment. military police- and de tachments furnished by the main guard. On the other band, life in I be camp was intolerable. It had been bud enough when be had been there the first time, but now the type of soldier had changed. Be fore, the men had been the average American wounded, from the Reg ular and National CJuard divisions, volunteers, every one of them. Now the camp was filled with the scum of every nation on the face of the earth, the dregs of the famous American melting pot that the long arm of the draft had stirred up. There were henvy-jowled, stolid Greeks, round-headed filthy Rus sian Jews, Italians of the lowest sort, a crowd of men that scarcely spoke English, dirty, undisciplined ignorant men who addressed an officer as “boss” and a sergeant as ‘‘He.v, Jack!” They lived and ate and slept like animals and the sight of them smacking and crunch ing their food would turn even a soldier’s stomach. What then could a man do? To go over the hill meant disaster, and to stay was impossible. Still, there might’ be a way. A man that could make his way through the woods at night In enemy territory ought to be able to elude a few police. But where to go? Where was the outfit? The outfit! “1 m going bael;, b.v c;—d m cried Eadie suddenly. “Why dicin’. I think of it before?" Me’walked on more briskly. But could It be done? lie was still .very weak, ho slept every afternoon, and a walk from the barracks to (lie comp gate ex hausted him. And bow about home, where a man could take off Ills uni form and forget it all?” "Nix." said Endie aloud. “I'm a noncommissioned officer of the lleg ular army and wherever my bunk Is, is homo to me." lie went into the hospital, into a large room full of men and he re moved his clothes as the other men had. Three doctors stood In tlte circle of naked men, ami the men went through various exer cises, rising on their toes, extend ing their arms, bending down, all with the Intention of displaying any loss of movement to the three doc tors. Then the men leaped up and down In place for some time, and after that the doctors went about with stethoscopes listening to hearts and asking each man [he na ture of his wound. The doctor paused before Eadie and poked Ids sc. r with n stubby linger. "What gave you that?” asked the doctor. "Appendicitis,” replied Eadie. “Hmmm. They did n poor Job on yeu. How do you feel?” * ’ "Fine," replied Eadie. "Want to go back to your outfit?” “Yes, sir,” replied the sergeant. “Put him down 'A,'” directed the doctor, and went on to the next man. A week at he Corneau I Was there any hell of battle to be com pared to It? No. But the week dually passed and on the eighth day Eadie found himself acting first sergeant of a detachment of r* \ placements for the Army of Oreo pation. They went away early in the afternoon in third-class car.* and Endie began his third jo.irnej to rejoin his buttery. It was not like the old wartime trips, with a trainload of shouting, singing , sol diers full of red wine and getting fuller every time the train stopped with men failing out of ears and off the roofs and losing the train at stations and appearing at the next stop, having caught an express, and finally disappearing for good. No. times had changed. Every station was guarded by an inflexible bar rage of police. Where the tank cars full of red wine used to stand unguarded there were now railway employees still in the blue of the army, and wise to all the tricks of the soldiers. No more was there that rough bon cnmnrade spirit, the “soldiers all and to h—1 with civilians,” that Ead*e had known. Every one was disgusted, every one begrudging every minute he spent in uniform. At Metz the Beene suddenly changed. The^ slouchy French in civilian clothes and army overcoat that crowded the station platforms disappeared, and in their place appeared very snappy soldiers with bayoneted rifles, chasseurs a I pi ns, tirailleurs, colonials in red bats, Senegalese, oc casional British, and then, Anally, Americans, alert, clean, well dressed, shaven, shoes polished in spite of the mud, men to make an other American weep tears of joy. Gone were the round heads, the curly heads, and the dirty heads. Americans, well-kept, in new, finely fitting uniforms. Eadie took off his I overcoat and looked critically at his own salvage blouse and breeches. Well, he would he paid at tlie outfit and then he was going, to buy himself a new uniform, from putts to cap. stripes, sergeant?” asked one of the men in the compartment. “I was wounded twice,” replied Eadie coldly. “Oh,” said the other. The other men all grinned. “It ain’t nothin’ to us,” said a man in the corner, grinning, “only look out when you get to the out fit. I heard you tell the doctor you had appendicitis.” The next day the train rattled through suburbs that reminded a man vaguely of St. Louis or In dianapolis, clattered over a great iron bridge and came to a halt. The place swarmed with Americans. It was Coblenz, the headquarters of the Army of Occupation. “What’s the next stop?” Eadte asked the driver. “Brigade headquarters,” ah* swered the driver shortly. They rattled through the streets and finally came out info the snow clad country. Eadie turned up the collar of his overcoat and shivered. “Bow's the soldiering here?” be asked. “’Tain’t bad," replied the driver. “It’s better'd it was in France. You a replacement?” “No,” said Eadie, “I was wound ed.” “Where was you wounded?” de manded the driver suspiciously, so that Eadie gasped at his vehem ence. “Why, In the Argonne.'” an swered Eadie, aghast. “At Mont fa neon.” “Huh,” grunted the driver, “you don’t look it.” “Well, I was. I’ll show you the wound if you want to see it.” “I don’t want to see it,” said the driver. “It ain’t nothin’ to me, ^nly every goldbrick an’ camoufluger an’ sick an’ lame an’ lazy gimmick that ever heard o’ the Third division Is coinin’ back now that the war is over. ‘Lots o’ beer an’ frauleins in Germany, let’s go,’ they say, and they come outta their holes where they been ail through the war an’ comes back here with some line o’ bull they was wounded or in bos pital or somethin’. Huh!” ! Eadie made no reply and the truck covered several kilometers. “Another thing that riles me,” said the driver, “is that these here .Johns show up with their arms ail plastered with wound stripes, and gold stars, and canteen medals on their chests and fourrageres and God knows what, and not a d—n one of ’em rates nrv IliimM Well the provest marshal Is out for ’em now. If a man ain’t got an order j for a stripe or a medal right in his | pocket, he don’t wear it.” “Listen,” said Eadie. “What’s the ! idea of popping oiT at me? I was | wounded and back at the front [ again while you were still trying j to make up your mind who the war | was with. And I’m rankest ser geant of battery A of the Seventy ninth and I can put any man in this division in the can, too. 1 was wounded right in back of the guns and the whole d—d First battalion saw me get it. Now! What do you think of that for gooseberries?” “I wasn’t say In' nothin’ about you,” said the driver. “A man’s got a right to speak his mind, ain’t he? You got on two wound stripes. I j seen ’em when you was puttin’ on your coat. How the h—I cam a man get two wound stripes between) July and November and still get I back to Itis outfit at New Year’s?” “One of ’cm’s for appendicitis!’ said a voice from the buck of the) truck. The driver blew his horn and shifted gears for a long hill. Brigade headquarters was in ai small town, a clean, whitewashed, low-eaved [dace, where stiff-hacked soldiers marched solemnly down the street, coming hack from drill; stern sentries with bayoneted rilles were everywhere, and stolid Ger mans looked curiously at Ladle. 11 he grinned back at them they smiled and chuckled and bobbed their heads with delighL At brigade headquarters Eadie gave his name and they sent him with an orderly down the street to n ration dump, from which a truck was soon leay-/ ing for ills battalion, quartered in a neighboring town. Again Eadie mounted the driver's seat, again the truck grunted and' banged its way out of town and through the snow-covered fields' tgaflle was alone and the back 01 the truck full of rations, so that fits Titling i ho font dhl not proclaim Itiui a noncom. “What omfit .vuli out of. buddy?” asked the new driver after a while. “A,” replied Fadic from his. coat collar. “Wounded?” asked the driver. “No I” harked Fadie, “I’m a re placement.” ‘‘Funny/’ commented the driver, “you look a lot like a sergeant out* ta A that got wounded.” They passed a held where a mounted hand was formed on white horses. The leader’s saber glit tered. “Itegimental call, adjutant’s call,” t*.o command came clearly across the snow. The saber dropped and the-‘cold cry of the trumpets blared. Fadie’s skin prickled. Efts band I That was his out (it's hand! “You e’n "it off here,” tho driver said, slowing down the truck. “The r\ (’. is right down that street.” Kadie got down and then, pack in hand, looked around. “By G—d, if it ain’t him!” cried two voices simultaneously. “I told yuh he’d never die,” said a third. Faille turned. Ham. Bal rty and Short Mack fell upon his neck. cried I In in. ‘'Here we been here iwo months mi’ through li—1 mi* just ns they begin to let up on us n bit, you come:” “Come on down to the club.*’said 1 hi lily. “The noncoms rale u spe cial mess an* bein’ all sergeants now, we can talk there easier than here. I been made since 1 seen you last. Did you have much of a time with that wound?” “Tell the truth an’ say ‘no,’” ad vised Short .Mack as they went down the street. “Tell the truth, it didn’t no mere than knock the* wind out of yuh.” They entered a house a short dis tance down the street. It bore all the marks of a barroom, but inside was clean and warm. A strongly built, blue-eyed girl appeared and grinned at the four men. “Her mother's the cook,” ex plained Ham. “Vier bier!” ordered Short, sit ting down at the long table. “Schnell!” added ltaldy. “Wie gehts?” asked Ilam. The three turned their eyes question ingl.v on Eadie, as if to say, “What* dyuh think o’ that for German, kid?” “.\nd you birds all speak German now!” exclaimed Eadie with ad miration. “It was tough lenrnin’ it,” said Ham. “There was a time when if you batted an eye at a German, man or woman, the mill and a six months’ blind for you. It’s changed n little now. The orders is still on, but we got so we can beat ’em now an’ then. You sure come back in u good time.” “Boy. you wore lucky you didn’t make the march into Germany with us!” cried Short. “No goldbricking behind the caisson then. We ■ changed colonels .hist before we A Strongly Built, Blue-Eyed Girl | Appeared and Grinned at the Four Men. started and the one we got was j rarin* to make us snjip out of if. You'd never know some o’ the ofli cers, they got so hard-boiled over night.” “It makes a different with a guv when lie knows that there’s no chance o’ some one’s easin’ a bullet into him in the excitement o’ the fight!” remarked Baldy. “It ain’t had now,” said Ham. “Eadie, you're In luck. They’re d.iliin’ us as if they were gettin ready for another war, but there’s a new rumor out that we're goin’ home, so maybe it won’t last long." “Eadie, you was always lons.v with luck,” remarked Short. “We used to thin1 of you when we was hikin’ through/the cold rain, tired an’ hungry, an’ It gettin’ dark an the guns an’ carriages to wash an’ horses to water before we’d gel any sleep, an’ you snug an’ warm in a white bed boldin’ a good-lookin’ nurse’s hand!” Eadie grunted. It was warm In lhe room and he arose and removed his overcoat. Then he sat down again, resting his arms on the t°ble. The beer arrived, but no one drank. They were nil looking at Sadie's sleeve. On his right cull was the mark of stripes, such ns one sees on the sleeve of n newly busted noncom. There were Utile bitn of thread there and a tear where the knife had slipped. “You ain’t wenrin’ no wound stripes?” questioned Ham, after an embarrassed pause. “No,” said Eadie, reaching out | for a glass of beer. “This whole] outfit knows 1 was wounded.” He] took a draught of beer and smacked Ids lips. “All you get by; wearing wound stripes Is a lot oi| d*eap conversation !’* £ ,] [THE END] NOTICE OF SALE Under and by virtue of the powers contained in a certain mort gage deed, executed by Jesse Da vis and wife Civil Annie Davis, to The Wellons Company, on the 10 day of November, 1923, and re corded in Book 136, at pag*e 14 of the Registry of Johnston county, default having been made in the payment of the same, the under signed will sell for. cash to the highest bidder, at the courthouse door in the town of Smithfield, N. C., on Monday, January 16, 1023 at 12 o’clock M., the> following de scribed real estate: Beginning at a stake on the north bank of Mill Creek Rahsom Bryant’s coiner; thence N 2* 78 poles to a stake; thence E lOVa poles; thence N 2 E 76 poles to a stake, Willis Lassiter (now Tom Holt’s) corner; thence his line N 8514 to a stake, L. L. Hines’ cor ner; thence his line S along the road to Mill Creek; thence down the creek as it meanders to the beginning* containing about 26 ac res, more or less. Same being part of the land devised to Sam Joyner by W. R. Joyner. This December 13, 1027. • THE WELLON SCOMPANY, Mortgagee. WELLONS & WELLONS, Attys. CERTIFICATE OF DISSOLUTION STATE OF NORTH CAROLINA, DEPARTMENT OF STATE. To All To Whom These Pres ents May Come—Greeting: WHEJiEAS, it appears to my satisfaction, by duly authenticated record of the proceedings for the voluntary dissolution thereof by the unanimous consent of all tho stockholders, .deposited in my of fice, that the Hamilton Realty Com pany, a corporation of this State, whose principal office is situated at Smithtield, County of Johnston, State of North Carolina (Leon G. Stevens being the agent therein and in charge thereof, upon whom process may be served), has com plied with the requirements of Chapter 22, Consolidated Statutes, entitled “Corporations,” prelimi nary to the issuing of this certif icate of dissolution: Now therefore, I, W. N. Everett, Secretary of State of North Caro lina, do hereby certify that the said corporation did, on the 6th day of December, 1027, file in my of fice a duly executed and attested consent in writing to the dissolu tion of said corporation, executed by all tlie stockholders thereof, which said consent and tho record of the proceedings aforesaid are now on lile in my said office as provided by law. In testimony whereof, I have hereto set my hand and affixed my official seal at Raleigh, this 8th day of December, A. D. 1927. W. N. EVERETT, Secretary of State. (SEAL) NOTICE OF SALE Under and by virtue of the pow er of sale contained in a certain deed of trust executed the 1st day of April, 1927, by W. A. Eason and wife, Lela Eason, to the undersign ed trustee, which deed of trust is recorded in the office of the Reg ister of Deeds for Johnston coun ty in Book 203, page 218; default having been made in the payment of the indebtedness thereby se cured and the holder of the note having applied to the undersigned for a foreclosure of said deed of trust and a sale of said land, the undersigned trustee, will on Thurs day, January 12, 1928 at 12 o’clock noon, at the courthouse door in Johnston county, N. C., expose to public sale to the last and highest bidder for cash, a certain tract of land, lying and being in Johnston county, N. C., bounded and describ ed as follows: Beginning at a stake on the South side of Tims Creek,- T. M. Wall comer, runs with TJ M. Wall’s line 80 degrees 30’ East 2(5.80 chains to an iron stake, Wall’s corner; thence with Wall’s line S 8 degrees, 30 W 1900 chains to a stake, Wall’s corner; thence _with J. T. Ellington line to a stake on the run of Tims Creek; thence up said creek N 16 degrees 15’ E 2.85 chains to bend of the creek; thence up creek N 3 de grees E 4.40 chains; thence up creek N 17 degrees 30’ E 2.65 chains; thence up creek N 30 de grees 15’ E 12.24 chains; thence up creek N 79 degrees 15’ E 2.72 chains to a stake, the point of be ginning, containing 64.46 acres, more or less. This 12 day of December, 1927. H. E. PERRY, Trustee. CERTIFICATE OF DISSOLUTION STATE OF NORTH CAROLINA, DEPARTMENT OF STATE. To All Whom These Present's May Come—Greetings: Whereas, it appears to my sat isfaction, by duly authenticated record of the proceedings for the voluntary dissolution thereof by the unanimous consent of all the stockholders, deposited in my of fice, that the Clayton Telephone Company, a corporation of this state, whose principal office is sit uated in the town of Clayton, County of Johnston, State of North Carolina, (Jesse C. Ellis being the agent therein and in charge there of, upon whom process may be served), has complied with the requirements of Chapter 22, Con solidated Statutes, entitled “Cor porations,” preliminary to the is suing of this Certificate of Disso lution: Now therefore, I, W. N. Ever ett, Secretary of State of the State of North Carolina, do hereby cer tify that the said corporation did, on the 10 day of December, 1927, file in my office a duly executed and attested consent in writing to the dissolution of said corporation ex ecuted by all the stockholders thereof, which said consent and the record of the proceedings aforesaid are now on file in my said office as provided by law'. In testimony whereof, I have hereto set my hand and affixed my official seal at Raleigh, this 10th day of December, A. D. 1927. W. N. EVERETT, Secretary of State. NOTICE OF LAND SALE Under and by virtdc of author ity contained in a certain mort gage deed executed by C. 0. Davis and Minnie C. Davis to Chester field Atkinson on the 25 day of October, 1923, which mortgage deed is recorded in Book No. 12(T, page 275, Registry of Johnston county, default having been made in the payment of the note and the interest thereon, thereby ma turing the entire indebtedness, therefore the undersigned mort gagee will offer for sale at public auction in front of the courthous'c :loor in Smithfield, N. C., on Mon lay, January 16, 1928, between the hours of 12:00 M. and 1:00 p. m., the following described real es tate, to-wit: First Tract: Beginning at a white oak on the bank,of Little (liver, and runs S 4Va W 91 poles to a stake; thence N 71 Va W 91 loles to a stake on the bank of Little River; thence up said River :o the beginning, containing* 30 acres, more or less. Second Tract: Beginning at a corner in William Bass line and *uns with it to another corner, Mary Willoughby Tilton’s' corner; thence West to the bank of Lit tle River, a corner of George Wil loughby’s land; thence East 112 poles to the beginning at a stake, containing 30 acres, more or less. Tliis is a purchase money mort gage given to secure the payment of the balance due on the purchase price of the above described land which has been conveyed by deed from Chesterfield Atkinson and wife to C. C. Davis by deed bear ing even date with this mortgage and reference is hereby made to said deed and the same is hereby made a part hereof. This is the identical land conveyed to Chester field Atkinson, by deed from Paul D. Grady and wife, Lelia S. Grady, and is known as the Pate land. This 13th day December, 3927. Date of sale, January 16, 1928. Time of sale, between the hours of 12:00 M. and 1:00 p. m. Place of sale, courthouse door in Smithfield, N. C. Terms of sale, cash. CHESTERFIELD ATKINSON, Mortgagee. 1 NOTICE OF SALE OF VALU ABLE LAND UNDER MORT GAGE. I Under and by virtue of the au thority contained in the power of sale of that certain mort gage deed e x e cuted by Henderson Sanders and wife l Annie Sanders to S. B. Johnson, t*h© same being duly recorded in the Registry of Johnston county in Book No. 173 at page 115, default having been made in the payment ■and liquidation of the same the undersigned mortgagee will offer for sale for cash in front of the | courthouse door in the town of ! Smithfield, Johnston county, on Monday the 30 day of January, at 32 o'clock M., the following here inafter described property, to ! wit: Beginning at a corner Willie Sanders and Moses Barfield’s and runs North to a lightwood knot; thence West to another lightwood knot; thence south to- a lightwood knot; thence East to a lightwood knot; containing two (2) acfes, more or less. The same being a portion of lot No. 2 in the division of the lands of Wesley Bell, dec’d. This 30 day of December, 1927. S. B. JOHNSON, Mortgagee. JOHN A. NARRON, Attorney. # •a Successful Six now bids for Even Greater Success -Announcing the Series i PONTIAC CTV \ ™ i X H M FOUR-WHEEL I O JLJ^L I BRAKES ) Product of General Motor* Body by Fisher New In Style from Radiator toTailLight- Offering Scores of Vital Advancements at No Increase In Pricet An original and vivid type of beauty—distinctive, arrest* mg, uJtrti-yimm — but in no sense extreme1 Higher, nar rower radiator — sweeping full-crown fenders—newly designed headlamps— every detail an expression of motor car fashion at its height. At a result of such progress in creating beauty of line, the Neto Series Pontiac Six laki a prominent place among tn« style leaders of the year. mwwwv.'.www EVEN the impressive array of new features given herewith cannot convey the extent to which the New Series Pontiac Six surpasses all previous attainments in the field of low-priced sixes. After enjoying a spectacularly suc cessful career, Pontiac Six now bids for even greater success with a car greater in every way. Emphasizing the importance of this announcement are two entirely new and additional body types: the Four-door Sedan; and the Sport Landau Sedan, a close-coupled, swagger creation, exemplifying the highest art of Fisher closed body craftsmanship. Come in and see this history-making line of Sixes, available in six body types. T Read This Partial List of Added Features NEW FISHER BODIES NEW FENDERS new four-wheel BRAKES NEW GMR CYLINDER HEAD NEW FUEL PUMP NEW CRANKCASE VENTILATION NEW CARBURETOR \\\\\\\NS\\\\N\X,VV\\\\\X\\V\\\\\SS\S\\N\\\\\SS\\NVV\N>.SVV NEW MANIFOLDS AND MUFFLER NEW AND GREATER POWER NEW CROSS-FLOW RADIATOR NEW THERMOSTAT VEW WATER PUMP NEW INSTRUMENT PANEL '.'.WW V’'N'A\\W\\\\\\XV .WSJ.WV NEW COINCIDENT AL LOCK NEW DASH GASO LINE GAUGE NEW STOP LIGHT NEW CLUTCH NEW STEERING GEAR NEW FRAME NEW AXLES NEW WHEELS v\\\v\\\\\mmv\\\w\\u\A\\\\vk\vvv 2-DOOR SEDAN ms (At Factory) <""07 PE roadster SPORT CABRIOLET 4-DOOR SEDAN SPORT LANDAU SEDAN A\>UVU\\\\\V\\\\\NV«\\VVINM\V\y«l\\ Britton-Hill Motor Company Main Street -> Smithfield, N. C.
The Smithfield Herald (Smithfield, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Jan. 6, 1928, edition 1
3
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