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Absolutely Pure. Thl* laiwder never vj»rie?«. A marvel of purity, strength and wlnde-omene*- More economical than flu ordinarv kind- and eamiot l»« sold in miii|K>tition with the uiultitude of low t• ■ -r. -h•»rt weight alum or phosphate powder-. >old only in cans. 180YA I. IIAKIM. row |»K.I« t o.. loti Wall St.. New York. 3 DAILY TRAINS 3 Bet ween ' . < SI. Louis and the Southwest FREE RECLINING CHAIR CARS. And Pullman Bullet Sleepin; Car Direct connection* in St. Louis In ion Depot with through lines to all points in the JSTortln- ZEa-st II. C. TOU NSKM), (i. I*. & T’kt. Agt. St. Louis. Mo. CHICAGO COTTAGE ORGAN Has attained a standard of excellence widt h Admits of no su|h rior. It rontainH every Improvement that Inven tive ireniuH, skill and money can produce. ▲ 4%r\ A. OUR AIM IS TO EXCEL. WAR. RAKTIT FOR 1 FIVE I YEARS. TIioao oxc<*Kirit< inrun* nro cHrlirattxl l»»r\ <»l umo, quatitf «*t tone.quick rwpoiwo, of coniliiuation.art i'tir «1< -mi, !*«•■tuty In llni-li, perfect construction. i ■ tkii.y them tin* inoft Attractive,om&ni ntalAnddi ilrobh onninsfor homes, schools, churchi societies,etc. KUTAHIJHIIIlll HHI,I TATIOX, IJlVRqt'AliKI) I’AOIMTIIX NHIIXKl) WOlikMIV HIST M ATKIllAlx, COMIllNKU, MAKE THIS THE POPULAR ORGAN PIANOS, STOOLS, BOOKS. Catuloiruc* 011 Application. Fhf.e. CHICAGO COTTAGE ORGAN CO CHICAGO. ILL. Not lee for i'lililleot loll. Land Ok kick xtCamdk.v, Akk.,1 Oet.iber 12, 1889. | Notice is hereby given that the following 11.tiled settler has tiled notice of hi- intention to inako final proof in -import of his claim, and that said proof will ho made before the County Judge of Nevada county. Aid., at Prescott, Ark., on lbeombnr 2, 1880. viz: It.z.el Monerief. II. K 11:111, for the NW NW See. 15, Tp. 10. S U 22 W. He names the following witnesses to prove bis continuous residence upon and cultivu ion of, said land, viz: It. F. linker, N. J. Price, A. J. Prion and Anthony Klliott. nil »f Houghton, Ark. W. K. KAMSKN, Register. Notice for Publication, Land Okkipk at Camukn, Auk.,1 November 20, 188(1. | Notice is hereby givei that the following* named settler has tiled notice of his intention to make tinnl proof in -import ot his claim, and that said proof will be made before the County .lodge of Nevada county, Arkansas, at Prescott. Ark., on Jntuiar) 9, 1890, viz: Washington M. Kav. Nevada count), Hd. 11,110, for the K.'. NW| See. 2d, Tp. 10, Sli 2d W. Ho names the lollowing witnesses to prove his continuous residence upon and cultivation of, said land, viz: James C. Heim, William I. Smith, William I. Ward and Charles 1 G'oxart, all of Proscott, Ark. W. K. RAMSKY, Register. Warning OuUer. A. I. Cathey, Plaintiff, 1 Ju,til,, Cl)Urt Cha'.* H. Titus, im. | Nevada County. The defendant, (Mins. 11. Titus, is warned to appear in tin- court within sixty days to answer the compla in of tlo* plaintiff, A. I. Cathey. If F. AmoNKTT, J. I'. November 12, 1889. ECHOES OF THE PAST. MY A. >1. There sire moments in life which sire never forgot— Lmhalmcd in the memory lilc«* gems set in gold. Which add :i new eluirni t * * the happiest lot. And over life's storms like a rainbow unfold. There are moments in life which, hallowed and blest, K'er brighten and brighten as years glide away. Whose memorv thrill' with a joy unexpressed, And gilds with hope's glories life’s loneliest day . There sire moment* in life which memory brings. Like garlands of roses, to twine round the heart. Whirls bloom in that light which eternallv spring*. A lid who'c beauty and perfume will lies erdepart. ■ These moments are hallowed by smile* and by tears, Like sunbeam* and dew-drops which freshen the flowers. While the full flush of joy transporting appears, ; When they come o’er tlit* soul with magical power. In days tluit are darke-t by fate ever given, These sacred remembrances ne'er ran decay; A* cloud'darkly glow w ith the rainbow in heaven. | So over life’s sadness they shed a glad ray . As fund matin orison or sweet ve-per chime. These echoes conic ringing down life’s swelling stream, I rom the isle Long \go," in infancy's clinic. Where childhood oft revi led in hope's golden dream. These echoes ring sweetly from home and from hearth, From school room and glen, from woodland and river. From bright scenes of gladness whose beauty and worth, Our early years knew to remember forever. : Thc'c echoes ring sweetly from bower and grove, Where often w« sat in the twilight’s soft Imam, While soul spoke to soul in bright glances of love. When wrapt in the Idiss of youth's earliest dream. They eome like the dawn in its lm cheat hue. Their v isions of beauty forever are idaying Like sunbeams across yon empyrean blue; Though wrapt oft in darkness, y et never decay iug. Like a voice that i* heard when the spirit is still. When nothing i* seen but the star-woven skv, Tlie echoing past spe.ik* with magical thrill, And wakens new hopes that are horn not to die. THE STORY OF A PICTURE. itv < L.\i w: mVokklk. j Written r >»'«ui;r the it picture iminteil l>\ Mi-.- \A7.1\v ( annoii, tea<-lu r of Art in tin- Hope Female 111 >titut«•.] In the fall of IK— I was in my twenty-lirst year and lived with niv parents in the beautiful little town of Nolly Springs, Mississippi. I had just graduated with some honors at Oxford, and was full of the conceits of a collegebred youth just entering upon the untried responsibilities of manhood. 1 bad as little of super stition in my make-up as possible to one who had sat at the lire in the “negro quarters” in “slavery days” and listened to the ghost stories of the old uncles” and “aunties,” I told in the flicker of a pine-knot lire on long winter nights. About that time my mother’s brother, an old bachelor, who lived at Aberdeen, came to pay our family a visit. No was well read, a man of close observation and had seen much of the world. We soon became fast friends, and when the time came for his departure for home hi- obtained my mother’s consent (mine went for the asking) for me to accompany him. It was before the days of rail roads in the South, at least there were hut few of those great conven iences to travel and traffic south of Mason's and Dixon’s line, and when one wished to go a journey he must needs either go in the lumbering stage coach or by private convey ance. My uncle had ridden over land oil horseback and we agreed to return Hie same way. We started one bright morning just as the sun “eaiue peeping over the hills,” and as we rode along the forest, way, at times only a bridle path. 1 looked about me at a scene of beauty, almost of enchantment; the foilage in varigated colors, the autumn leaves falling with a soft “swish” like distant water, and I thought, as 1 have often since, that this is a beautiful world, and the re piniiigs we often make of the “ills and sorrows of mortal life ’ are a re flection upon the love and kindness of a bountiful Creator. Only stopping a few moments at noon to break our fast with a dainty little luneheon my good motlier had provided, by night-fall we had cov ered fully fifty miles of our journey. Mv uncle said that a mile or two fur ther on we would roach the home of an old friend of his, under whose hospitable roof we would spend the night. ! .hist before reaching the house we I crossed a swift running stream, on the banks of which, in full view of the road, was the ruins of an old fashioned water mill, and near it the pond, almost a lake, still spanned b\ the crumbling remains of a bridge. The planks were broken and covered with moss, and the sombre waters gurgled through the rotting timbers which supported them, sounding like a departed life that once made the old mill a scene of animation. < >n the hill above the stream we halted our lireil horses in front of a typical old 'southern home. A large rambling frame building. Two stories, with | gables projecting here and there and verandahs running the full length of the structure. It looked like a house vi itii a history. The familiar “hello!” of the section brought to the door a comely old gentleman, who upon recognizing my uncle has tened to give us a cordial welcome On my being introduced to him In spoke to me very pleasantly, saying that lie had seen my mother, and re membered her as the beauty of the eou.itry-side twenty-live years ago. After entering the house and -tidy ing ourselves up a hit” from the dust of the journey, we were introduced to our host's two daughters, who with himself composed the white members of the household. The elder was a brunette, of rather slight figure and a bright vivacious face that you recognize at once as an old acquaintance. The other—how shall 1 describe her. A queenly blonde, a face as fair as the rosy morning, great liquid blue eyes that seemed to mirror a soul escaped from Heaven, a wealth of golden hair, coiled like a coronet about her shape ly head—one glance was enough to win a heart. Withal there was an indescribable something about her. a look of mysten in those soulful eyes I could not define. After partaking of a palatable sup per wc* were invited into the family sitting room, where my uncle and his old friend lived^ignin their boyhood days over a glass of “toddy,” while the young ladies amused me by play ing tlit- piano ami singing some old time ballads that were remarkably sweet and musical. Annie, the elder of the sisters, was much the livelier of the two, while Zulime, the young er. at times seemed preoccupied and given to moods of reserve. Every time I looked at her. which I confess was quite often. I felt the influence of that “eyrie” look, the conscious ness of something “uncanny” about ner. When the hour for retiring arrived my uncle and tnycelf were shown to a room upstairs, at the head of a long flight of steps. It was used by the young ladies as an afternoon sit ting room, and a work-basket, a skein of silk, a bit of embroidery here and there, and numerous other evidences of the constant presence of women were seen about the room. Hcfore going to bed my uncle smoked a parting pipe, during the progress of which he informed me that the house was popularly reported to behaiinted. Kvery old house must have a ghost you know to be in the least respecta ble The family was an old one and had lived here for generations. As the story ran. one of the daughters of the house, a prototype of the fair Zulitne. had ‘‘loved not wisely but too well,” and to hide her shame and forget her sorrow had sought obliv ion beneath the dark waters of the mill-pond. The negroes about the place averred that at night at twelve o'loek she visited the room in which we were sitting and arrayed herself in the bridal bravery she never wore. < )f course I believed my part of this story, and when my uncle sug gested that if 1 wished to verify it 1 could sit up and see the mysterious visitant. I laughingly told him that I was too much fatigued to watch for “spooks.” He took a “night cap” from a brandy tlask and went to bed. 1 was not long following him. The night was a beautiful one. The full harvest moon shone in at* the window and made the room as light IIS nay. INC si i iui^nivnn 'it iiiv place, the new scenes 1 had encoun tered. the starry eyes of the gentle Xulituc, the legend my uncle had re lated. kept me from falling asleep as quickh as 1 hail anticipated, and long after my companion’s deep breathing proclaimed him locked in the arms of Morpheus, I was turning from side to side, unable to sleep. 1 was in a lit of insomania. 1 tried ev ery experiment of which 1 had ever heard to induce sleep. 1 counted a hundred backwards, repeated poetry b\ the yard, rolled my eyes in their sockets, and as a last expedient be gan counting the ticks of the great clock down-stairs, which could be plainly heard in the stillness of the night. At last 1 obtained forgetful ness. Suddenly 1 was awakened by the “whirr" of the clock below, on the point of striking. 1 counted the strokes. One, two. three, four, live, six, seven, fight. nine, ten, eleven, twelve! The mystic hour when the graves are said to yawn and disem bodied spirits visit the haunts of men. As the last echo of the clock died away I heard a foot-fall upon the , stairs. The story told me l»v t y unde rushed through my mind. Could such things be? Mali! it \\ • but a cat or dog prowling about the house. I smiled, but the smile died away quickly, for plainly as I ever i heard in broad open day. came the regular pat. pat. of a footstep up the stairs, accompanied by the rustle of a woman’s garments. I sat up in the bed and took from beneath the pil lows a pistol I had placed there. Nearer to the landing came the ap proaching visitant, and imagine the feeling which rushed over me when the form of a woman, robed in white, ! walked leisurely into the room. With bated breath I watched her, at if un conscious of the presence of any but herself, she approached the window as if to look upon the night. Then turned to a dresser near and took some pins from her hair, which fell like a mantle about her shoulders. In the bright moonlight, as it was blown to ami fro by the breeze from the open window, it looked like a golden sheen. She turned and as I gazed at her face a sense of horror fell upon me. The features calm and peace ful. as if the passions of earth were forever lulled to rest. The great eyes looked straight forward past me, as if they saw nothing. I pinched myself to see if 1 really was awake, or only beheld a vision in my dreams. No, it was no imagination : I was as much awake as ever in my life. My tongue clave to the roof of my mouth, the blood seemed to freeze in my veins. Horror of borrows’ The spectral form advanced towards the bed. In the delirium of my flight 1 pressed the trigger of the pistol -but it failed to lire. The form of the mysterious visitor stood at the bed side and leaned against it. One snowy hand fell upon the coverlet and on a taper linger 1 saw a plain gold ring. I began to gather my scattered senses. Oh >>t or goblin I resolved to touch the hand. One might see the ghost of a person, but not of a ring. 1 clutched it. The effect was magical, l’he hand was snatched away, the form moved rap idly towards the door and disap peared down the stairway. I looked about me. Surely it was all but a vivid dream. The soft moonlight streamed in at the win dow—the room was just as we left it on retiring. Not a sign of the ap parition remained. Hold! What was that shilling on the coverlet— the ring. 1 picked it up and pressed it between my lingers, hit it—it was a! least real. Slipping it on my little linger I resolved to keel it ’till morn ing. when ' ", senses were clear and I could wliollv unravel the mystery. Again I wooed I he drowsy god and this time slice* *ss roily. Next morning I was awakened by a hearty call from my uncle: “(Jet up. boy. or you’ll miss your breakfast.” I sprang out of bed, and you may be sure my first- thought was to look for the ring. Yes. there it was; a plain circlet of gold, innocent look ing. hut surely thereby hung a tale. I saiil nothing to nty uncle of it nor its owner, hut waited for time to ex plain the mystery. Down-stairs we met the family. The father looked as cheery as at our first greeting, and the sisters even more charming, a slight paleness in the cheeks of the younger, rendering her still more interesting. The com pliments of the morning were passed, and we sat down to breakfast. Af ter a few moments the host addressed me with: ”How did you rest. Mr. -?” Before I could reply he routined: “The negroes tell an idle story of the room in which you slept being haunted. Now, I will lay a wager that you saw nothing of the ghost.” ■•(ill, yes 1 uni. I replied, lvv crybody looked at me in amazement. ”1 not only saw it,” I continued, “lint touched it. and here is a ring 1 took from its linger.” At this point 1 held up the riug. Zulime looked with started gaze, lirst at it, then down at her own linger where an impress showed the ring had been worn—then fainted. The mystery was solved the story at an end. She was, unknown to herself or the family, a somnambulist, and in her sleep visited the apart ment she frequented in waking hours, and no doubt wandered about the ground, mayhap to the old mill—and 1 shuddered as I thought of the crumbling bridge, and imagined her standing, at the dead of night, on that treacherous foothold, with the wind blow ing her long hair about her shoulders, in her hand a candle, w hich to her eyes, though wide open, gave no light. That was the only ghost I ever saw. and having captured it 1 kept it. For years Zulime lias been my wife, but never since that eventful night has she been known to walk in her sleep. [Hope (Ark.) Gazette. NICARAGUAN CANAL. _ Favornble Progress being Made on this Interooeanic Highway. Manam a, Nkaiiaoia, Nov. 4.— 1'lie Canal Commissioners of the j Nicaraguan government. Don Jose Antonio Roman, president, and En I gineer Don Maximilian Sonncsburg. accompanied by Chief Kngineer A. <1. Monocal of the Nicaragua Canal Co., and a party of Nicaraguan nota bilities, arrived here to-day for the purpose of conferring with President Caeasa in regard to certain minor d< - tails concerning the American canal, and to exchange congratulations up on the official opening of the work on October 22 last. The Commission ers, it is understood, will also make a report upon the amount of work done by the Nicaraguan Canal Co. since the landing of the construction party on June •'! last, which will show that in live months after landing, practically hampered in their opera tions by the trying tropical, raiin weather of this country, the Ameri cans have succeeded in building up the foundations of a town ( wInch w ill be called America'); have landed material for and have commenced the construction of a 12-mile aqueduct, laid a mile or more of broad gunge railroad, placed Jomilesof telegraph in operation, cleared the San Juan, Junnillo. Descada and Silieol rivers of snags, etc., which obstructed nav igation ; have built 20 or more per manent camps, landed all the pile drivers and piles for the breakwater, cleared the lirst part of the route of the canal, organized a perfect supply and transportation service, a hospital service, and an ambulance corps; periecied uic sanitary arrangements, so that there is a very small per cent of sickness, ami, dually, have done everything possible to win the good will of Nicaragua and show tin world what American push and intelligence can do under the most ditlicnlt cir cumstances. Shortly after the presentation of the report of the Nicaraguan (lov ernmeut Canal Commissioners, the Commissioners will be received by President Caeasa and his Cabinet. The canal party left San Juan del Norte ((I rev town) on October '-".I, and on their way up the San Juan river stopped at several of the Amer ican camps bordering that stream. The Americans of the party, who in cluded several bidders for the con tracts along the line of the canal, were delighted with the majestic beauty of the San Juan Uiver, and the imposing expanse of fresh water, over 100 miles long and less than fit) to HO miles wide, which forms the bosom of Lake Nicaragua. In the southwestern portion of this lake are gigantic active and inactive volcanoes, both over 5,000 feet high, and grow ing upon their slopes the linest fruit, tobacco and coffee produced in Cen tral America. The San Juan river runs from live to ninety feet in depth, the greatest depth being at Aguas Mortcs. Notre Ochoa, and the shallowest portion at the Muohucn, Castillo and Toro rap ids. where, however, the river steam ers of the river sail up the rapids. The latter will disappear as the water of the lake and river is raised by the Ochoa and other dams, audit is good to bear in mind that when the lake steamer Victoria, having on board the American canal party, had crossed the lake aud the members had seen the canal location, which, after passing through the lake, will cut through the Pacific side of the ocean, an air line of only 11 miles of land, swamp and basin separated the American engineers from the Pacific Ocean. Religion and Joy. ll is a question of the day whether our world is a happy or a miserable world. The answer depends very much upon when and where the query llnds us. Who of us have not some times said: • The world is all wrong and wretched.” Hut it was when our ow n spirit was full of evil and un rest. There have been days when we have said: “The world is a vale of tears; there are in it more sobs than smiles.” Hut that was because our heart was aching, and our eyes were blinded with tears. Whenever we escape from ourselves, and with un jaundiced gaze look mother nature in the face, the world that looks back on us is a world where happiness out weighs evil and pleasure compters pain. Were it otherwise the world could not continue. Life would be come worn out were misery, the pro curess of death, stronger than happi ness. the minister of life. There is, indeed, enough of deenv, and pain, and strife, and dentil. Hut. these are not the substance of existence. They | are but the shadow of the sunlight. Spite the struggle for existence, the prevalent aspect of the world of feet 1 anil tins and feathers is one not of depression, but of alert enjoyment and vitality. And liunianitv's bur den of centuries of toil and sorrow lias not broken the spring of jov in the heart qf our race, for still at its foil lit ai ti-hcnd. as it bursts enger into existence, it sparkles and bubbles with gladness in the mirth and laugh ter and pure joy of living, of early childhood. The world is not a vale of tears. The gladness is more than the sadness, and most of thill is an I accident. The face that looks at us! out of nature in the song of the birds, j the sweetness of the air, the glow ofi the sunlight, is a face of jov, and its! message to us is •‘Rejoice!” The religion of Jesus is not a re versal of nature’s ideal, but the ful filment of its purpose thwarted by | siti. 'The aim of the <iospcl is not to make men sad, but glad. It takes up the command of nature, repeats j and enforces it. Religion ought to be a joy-giver, aye, a joy-heightener. When nature said. ‘‘Rejoice!” [ i ( hristianity savs: ‘‘Rejoice ever more!” It takes the gladness of life ! and multiplies and trausligurcs its radiance, like the sunlight that streams through the painted panes; of a cathedral window, till its beams melt and glow and Maine into gold and crimson glory . 'The effect of religion is not a remote and random .accompaniment, tint a necessar\ ami essential altrilmte. I'lie injunction of rejoicing is not a cold permission or a friendly counsel, lint it is a high and peremptory command H stands in equal ranks with prayer and thanksgiving, and comes home on the solemn tones of a voice that sa\s: ■•This is thi' will of (>od in Jesus Christ concerning you." Il is not a thing you may elioo.se or eschew, il is a purpose of (iod, a part of re demption, a heart-desire of Jesus Christ, that your Christian lifeshoitld h.' pervasively and persistently a life of rejoicing. How much religion needs to he lit up with joy! It is not enough to he good. We must fie good attractive! v. l’iely that is laborious, strained, do-i spondent, is like the air when it is | empty of sunshine. We want to I light the good light of faith hope fully. light-heartedly. Is that possi ble with the world so perverse, with sin so strong within us, and our hearts so weak and wa\wordr Yes, l in Christ, it is the will of (iod con cerning \ on.—[Prof Klmslcc, I). I). Sometimes from my hillside home among the Highlands on the Hudson I see, fifty miles away, obscured h> haze and overhanging clouds, and partially veiled, perhaps in mist or rain, the distant outline of the Cats kill range: and then (lie vail is drawn aside, the turhaued mist is lifted off their foreheads, and that which before was dim and indistinct stands out against the dark hack ground of sky in clear, intelligible outline, yet leaving all the dress of gray rock and green tree and foam ing cataract and dark gloom, and lining sunshine breaking through the trees, to the imagination ; for at best it is only an outline that I see. So j in the Old Testament I look upon the outline of my (iod veiled in cloud: in tlie New Testament the cloud is lifted, the mist is cleared away, and through an atmosphere like that of the most perfect October day 1 look on the same outline, dis tinct and beautiful against a heavenly hack-ground; and still it is but an outline that I see of the mystery and majesty of the nature 1 shall never know, never fie aide even to explore, until I stand in His presence, and am invited to know Him even as I am known. [Lyman Abbott. Luteal the observatory- “lMeaae tell me where 1 am to go. 1 was in vited to see the transit of Venus.'’ "I am extremely sorry, madam, tint you are too late, l he transit was over fifteen minutes ago.” "<>h. that's no matter. The superintendent js a friend of mine and 1 am sure he will have it done again for me.” People who ( ill each other liars [often get hurt for telling the truth. j PROFESSIONAL AND BUSINESS CARDS R. I. Hinton, M. D., PHYSICIAN & SCRHKON, ItUKtMJUTT, - - AKK. Residence on Kiist Second Street. (tffiro «illi private consulting: room, on We* Main St. (,. I'. Stnooio. T. ( . MeUne. J. 11. Arnold Smootc McKac & Arnold, ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW, LAND. COLLECTN 2 —AND— INSURANCE ACENTS. I’KKSCOTT, - - - - A It KANSAS. Will practice in both State nnd Federal courts. R. E. WOOD, Attorney - at- Law, Real Estate and Insurance A <; E N T . WASlUXIiTOX, - AKK AX* AS, \\ ill prnetiee in nil State court*. Special nitenlion given to collection*. Office with A. It. .V It. It. Williams. W. t. Atkiasoa. W. 7. Toaipkiao, It W. Oressi*. Attorney Scasril. Notary Public Atkinson, Tompkins k Greeson, ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW. PRESCOTT, ARK. Will prnetiee in nil Courts, both Stato and Federal. Ilindncs. attended to promptly. NEVADA COUNTY BAM, W. H. TERRY. Cashier, PKKSCOTr, - - - ARKANSAS NS ill do a general hanking business, re ceive deposits, etc. Correspondent*: Western National Hank. New York. Commercial Rank, St. Loui*, German National Rank, Little Rock. W. L. GAINES BOOT-SHOEMAKER WI>T MAIN BTItKKT, l’HKSCOTT, - ARK. SUMMER’S HOUSE. Cor. N. Front mid Walnut Sts., IPiPK . - - AKK Tables supplied nt nil times with the best edibles llii' market utfords, Clean, neat and oouitoruble beds. Terms reasonable. Z-O'Speeial attention given to cummer cial men. Mas. Juua Sumvikkm, Proprietress. Rill, Fontaine $ Co., COTTON AND WOOL Commission Merchants, lit. Sol III M VIN BT. 2110-H KllONT BT., St Louis,, Mo. Memphis, Tenn Liberal ( ash Advances .Wade on Con. sigiinieuts. J. R. HARRELLW, ^ B1 acksmiths &■ ed Wagon Makers. REPAIRING WOOD 4 IRON PROMPTLY DONE Morse shoeinK and Repairing Buggies \ SPKCI \LTY. Enlarged IKhop. B«*i Facilities, and more and better material than over before. J. K. Harrell will uUo do gun tiing. \V< are also inniiufai durer* and agents* fot the < elebrated Lyon** Combination Harrow anu Scraper, and will furnUh them on do maud. Shop next to Methodist church, op Went Second htroct. Wo guarantee ** work to give satisfaction. J. T. MAYS’ GENERAL : STORE, Boughton, Arkansas, Will keep an as-ortment of General Mer cliHitdi-e, and -ell as low as anybody. No use to go to Pre-eott—ave time and money by buying at this store. A triul will eonvince you. GIN AND GRIST MILL. I have a tlr-t-ehis. new gin that will turn out n — Hue grade cotton ns lint will make. Satisfaction guaranteed. Bring in vour serai cotton. Al-o have a good grist mill and will grind on Saturday-. Patronize home indus tries. | will please you if possible. J. T. MAYS. GEO, TAYLOR COMMISSION CO, COTTON FACTORS, \NU General Commission Merchants. Main and Walnut St.'., St. Louis, Mo. l , Ks>|*fol*il Mtti-utiou uivt ii to all t»u»iut*4* eu trust**! to u*.