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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Clinton News-Record, 1910-12-22, Page 3*ecember '22nd 1910 PlAYING SANTA CLAUS.: A Tragedy of • a London fog in the :Suburbs of Streathton===lut It ' Ended Well, By C. Malcolm Hlncks, in the Novel Magazine Police -Constable Parker stood at the .corner formed by the aristocratic thoroughfare known as Acacia Grove and the much less dignified street known as Church Roard,. in the Lon- don suburb which, for the purpose of this story; shall be known as Streath- ton. It was Christmas Eve, but the wea- ther certainly did not tend to inspire one with a feeling of peace on earth and goodwill towards mankind. The crossing -sweeper, who was furtively 4tyeing the constable, had been sworn at and rewarded in the ratio of three to one. "When it's snowy," he confided to a butcher's boy, who had stopped to re= light the stump of a cigar he had found in the gutter "people thinks s it's real Christmas and nd does .yet well, but this bloomin' fog upsets 'em. Would you unbutton yer •top coat to give a chap like me a penny a night like this?" • "No, I bloomin' well shouldn't!" de- clared the butcher's boy with decision as he moved off. P. -C. Parker stamen:his feet on the damp pavement and wished him- self anywhere but where he was. This was his first experience of a London- fog, ondonfog, for he had been in the Metropoli- tan Force only a few months, and he did not like it. , see "Bloomin' 'ole to be in on Christ- mas Eve!" he growled. "Only. six o'clock and yet' 'ardly 'a sign of Iife' about the place. , Why :couldn't they let me do a beat in the 'Igh Street? There is somethin' goin' on there at all events, even if you can't see .'it ,proper for the fog." • As he had collie on duty he had marched along the High 'Street,where the light from the shop windows, the naphtha flares on the eosters' stalls, the branches of holly and evergreen, the gaily=dressed grocers' windows, and the rapidly -moving, and for the most part, happy -faced, crowd, did convey something of that peculiar, in- describable feeling that people asso- eiate with Christmas. "Give me Mugford!" growled the constable, as he turned and slowly be- gan to pace his beat. "Don't believe in all the talk about London streets paved with gold; I've only seen 'em full o' slosh. Law! At Mugford we knew it was Christmas, festivities we' 'ad, and—beg pardon, sir!" An old gentleman had almost col- lided with him, for the fog was gradu- ally becoming thicker, and the lamp- posts in Acacia Grave were few and: far between. Ah, constable," said the old gentle- man genially, "can you• direct me to a house in the road of the name West- dene?" ""Westdene, sir?" suggested P. -C... Parker thoughtfully. He had been in the force long enough to know that it paid to be civil to benevolent -looking old gentlemen on Christmas Eve. "Yes, that's the name. Absurd idea, constable, giving •a, fancy name to a house in a road like this. In my youeg days a number sainted, and postmen were much happier," "No one 'as a number in Acacia• Grove," said Parker; "they've all got names, rum 'ons, too, `some of 'etit. It's difficult to see names properly in this 'em fog, and as I'm walking along that way maybe you'd like me to show you the 'ouse? " "That is very good of you; you see I am er—acting as Santa Claus." P. -C. Parker glanced at the large bag in the old gentleman's hand, noted the kindly smile, and felt sad. 1ff' "Kids of to -day don't believe in that sort o' thing, sir; they looks at each tning to see if there's a label with the price on it." "You are a very cynical young man," observed the old gentleman, as with difficulty he kept beside him. "Been six months in the Force," said P. -C. Parker shortly. The old gentleman nodded as Clinton New* roar spoof; everything!'' he is irmure "I wish People would •- Confound it Someone's coining! Where can hide?Oh inChis hurry, �Mr. e. zIrittenden to got the two bags he had placed on th floor, and as he made a dive to ge beneath the table his, foot caught i one of thorn and he came to the Boo ,ith a crash that seemed to shake th `house. "What's the matter?" cried a. eta tied voice. d, pity. "hut the hictlra o!`circunnstancea and. my own foolishness. lily name Is r. Brittenden, James Brittenden and I entered the house thinking It belong- ed to my son." o "But why enter by a back door and t bolt?" demanded the tall man, with n a perplexed look upon his face. ✓ To an ever-increasing circles of epee- ;*• tators Mr. Brittenden told his etory; it cast him a lot to confess the hash he had made of things, but it was better than :being hauled off to prison while inquiries were made. "But Mr. Brittenden lives at West- dene. This house is. Oal:dene," said the man who proved. to be the tenant it of the hove the old gentleman had so h uneerenlcn:cus y ert:red. A woman in evening dress who was gatiu„ clown at the group from til,: , other side of the wall spates up ex - g cit+ diy: 'i saw Mrs. Brittenden this morn 1 in, Jack," she cried; "and she told Char me that her hrsband's father was.. coming upfrom the country to spend, d Christmas with them." e "There appears to have been a,mis• el hake. I must have showed 'int the g wrong 'ouse in the fog," said the con- stable sadly, feeling that he had been robbed of the credit of a smart care Ore. The tall man laughed, t "Look here, constable,' we had het - ter go back to my place and talk the thing over, I don't think your ser- - vices will .he required, but no doubt you could do.with something to take the taste of the fog out of your Mouth." The gardener. received a couple of shillings and was told to go to the kitchen for a drink, the excited group of neighbors went back to cheery And before Mr. Brittenden could re- ply a servant's face had peered round the door and then disappeared. "Delp! Thieves! Delp!" + Mr. Brittenden picked himself u and began to make remarks of whic no self-respecting Santa Claus would have dreamt. , "Confound that girl!" he remarked stopping in the middle of a strlkin 'speech on the subject of bags, bruise shins, and grazed elbows, "She'l spoil—bless my soul, that's not Cha lie's voice!" The sudden exclamation was cause by hearing a gruff command to th screaming girl to fetch the pollee, an then the sound of footsteps comm towards the door. Then it dawned upon Mr. Brittenden that he was in the wrong bowie, and at the moment the fact dawned upon him the worthy old gentleman los his head. The idea of stoppipg and explaining his position never occurred to him. He dedided at once that un less he could escape he would spend his Christmas in jail. But how to escape? Of course, the door. He must leave the bags and he must also leave his hat, for it bad rolled somewhere under the table, and be dared not stop to , search for it. With an agility tha ' few would have given him credit for possessing, he sprang to the door that he had carefully closed behind him, opened it, fell rather than ran clown the steps, and found himself walking , on grass, but enveloped in such a fog that he could scarcely see the house he had left in so abrupt a fashion, The fog got, into his throat and lie coughed.: Immediately a woman's voice rang. out from somewhere close at hand: "Quick, quick, he's• in the garden! 1 heard him. Oh, quick, policeman, or weshall be murdered," though such an experience were an excuse for anything, and then they walked on in silence for a few yards.. "I want to make this one of the old- fashioned, fairy Christmases for my grandchildren, constable," he said at length, "and-er—realiy Pm glad I've; met you, you see, I'm going to do a, little amateur burgling," • "Oh; are you?" said P, -C. Parker shortly, stopping in his walk and re- garding his companion 'severely. • The old gentleman laughed. ' • "I thought you'd think it funny," he' said. "You see, I'm Mr. James Brit- tenden, and I'm going to stay with my son -Charles for Christmas; they don't: expect me until ten o'clock to -night, but I caught an earlier train than I expected from the country, and as I' came along Holborn. it .struck me that, I would give the youngsters a great' surprise. I'm going to get in through: thenursery 'window, leave the toys' I've brought, go and dine somewhere,; and then return to the house and tell' ter@ mtha t under r th table ie in the r-: sernu r-• they wilt •find a lot of i Santa Claus has left." . things that "'Ow do youknow you're goin' to. get in ;so easy?" demanded' the con- stable, still regarding the elderly gen-: =tleman with some suspigion , ' "Oh, .I shall manage all right. 'Y'ou, see, I want to startlemay. son and his'' wife as well: as the children: I' was' always fond of a' joke—ha,. ha, ha'!' What! Ia this the house? Thank you. Good -night, officer! Merry Christ - matt! Drink my health to -morrow, will you?""• • . "Good -night,: sir, , thank you, sir same to you!" gasPed P. -C. Parker, gazing blankly at the coin" which the, street lamp just above him disclosed, to be a half -a -sovereign.. "Lor,'," the. muttehed, as he resumed his beat,: fancy avin'•' any suspicions against a generous gentleman like. that. Id .like to be.. one o' them kids: an'—'alf-a-tick, I don't believe there'' are any kids at that house: I've never seen 'em, anyway, Now, I wonder if the old buffer is up to any little game. - I'll go and see what --curse the ' fog, it's coming on worse than ever!" He turned and walked back towards, the gate of the house where he had. left the amiable amateur' Santa Claus: The old .gentleman's story. about the children was probably a blind—he had thought 'to. 'throw 'him off the scent. Then the half -sovereign was: bribery . and corruption, Probably it was` bad; he tested it with his teeth; no, it 'Wasn't bad; but all the "Help! Police! Thieves!" • A diothevel:ed servant girl had run to the gate of Westdene and her pierce ing cry came weirdly through the hogs P, -C, Parker broke into a run. * * *.. * * , * • * - "Bless my soul! They've altered the h rroom, Now ,how on ' earth am• I find the nursery, Mr. James Brittenden deposited his bags on the floor and gazed round in' blank ,bewilderment. On his last visit he remembered the nursery had been: the room 'on the first. floor . that ' was approached by a flight' of iron steps. from the back garden.. Several of the, residents in Acacia Grove ., who pos' sessed the same ai'rangQment• used it as a morning room, and sat out on the. little balcony at night, but his sone had turned it .into a nursery, Mr.' Brittenden had expected to have had, to climb through the window overs looking the • balcony, but had -found' the door unlocked, and so saved him- self trouble, • "If I go : out into the hall I may meet a servant or someone and that Certainly there was something ap- ' preaching murder in Mr. Brittenden's heart as, • on hastily turning to move away, be had collided with a tree and scraped about a couple of square inches of skin off his face. A form looming .up behind him caused him to forget his injury, and. he made a wild dash in the opposite direction to the house. He could just see a wall, and to that wall he ran; once over it he would be able to get away unless the absurd row the peo- 'plc in the house were making roused the whole neighborhood. • He gained the wall, took a flying leap, and 'sat •down.more or less grace- fullyupon a piece of broken glass embedded in•. mortar, evidently the re- ' mains of what at one time had been a harsh measure. to stop the healthful promenade of the local cats. Mr. Brittenden felt for, the felines ofthe past decade Str at hto n as he sat upon thewall; he mentioned it among the many other things in- the speech that he addressed to 'no one in particular as he hastily altered his • position. • •' see him, sir!" The unfortunate gentleriztn I'ecog- 'ntzed.the voice as that of the cousta- • ble to -whom' he 'had .spoken; -and the very last • man inthe world that .n wanted• to see at the present moment. • He tried •to pierce the fog- and,, see how deep the drop . vas on the other gide of the wail .and what, sort of land- ing it was, but the damp, yellow -black mist made this impossible. The gleam of the- policeman's lan- tern Ioomed hip through• the fog close to him. Behind the officer were other shadowy forms; there was, thesound of. several windows being thrown up, and many voices demeanding what was the matter, • • ' Fear of the, policeman , overcoming the fear of :the unknoun,'Mr;'Britten den set his teeth, drew. in This breath;' and slid down from the wall into dark- ness, Hse-landed ungracefully" but unhurt on a pile of rubbish after alit est 'a six-foot fall, and lay. theregasping tot. breath and cursing himself for being a fool, Never• again, he • told himself, would he .undertake the onerous and dangerous duties of Santa CIaus. • •.r . r fool!" Chet"e s _o ,00I like an old he. Muttered, ball aloud. • "You're right, old bird," said',a voice above him, and a large foot Was placed heavily upon his woolen -waist- coat -and at the same time a cry of 'Tye ; got gm!" floated out on the' evening air,• • ' "That's the gardener at IIilleroft!" he heard someone say, and then came the constable's loud, hoarse voice: "Hold him tight; he's a burglar!" "Pretty :ancient for that game, ain't, you?" said the gardener, getting a grip on Mr. •Brittendene collar. "Come, stumble' up, old 'un you'll be 'appier on yer feet," Mr. Brittenden could not associate that word 'with his position, whether he stood on his feet -or lay on the. ground,but he did not • want the gar- dener to use him' as a door-metagain, so he obeyed the invitation- to ."stunt. bee up," and• had. scarcely done so be- fore the constable scrambled over the wall 'and the light of a bull's-eye was flasheden his face. . "The chap I thought!" he dried tee emphantly. "The cove that guffed me about ' Santa Claus! You'll get Santa Claus, „you 'oary-'eaded old sinner; Christmas in quod--that',r what you'll ge„ Tt!he threat and the reaction 'after all the excitement seemed to restore the unfortunate old gehtleman to his senses, "I'm not a' burglar," he began, "I am—" "Oh, no, it don't look like it, do it?" .interrupted the policematt sarcastical- ly, "You jest steppedin to see the lime, didn't you, and thought the clock was under the ?" A tall, c'ark-tablehaired, goad-tiumored- looking man ttenped up and peered into the prisoner's' face. , • • "By gad, lie's a ram looking bur. glarI" he ejaculated, "Drunk per- Imps, erI:aps, but not—" "I am ntiti'-,r a brei ar nor'ani I drunk," said the piisoi.cr, with dig• -��9Uh11Jr1,Vf8��iiih�a�hl�l1�V�� ,y�. ., r. 51 I t .II 7 fires, sill the little procession passed out at the side gate and wended their A ,tory of a Christmas Morning and a Bob who way back to Oakdene. Interfered with Santa's Plans. ecoid ►uugge � at " elll�il�ll�aul' SANTA CLAUS' MISTAKE. "I'li show you the way round to your son's glace " said the tall man after many hpalths had been drunk, I and Mr. Brittenden had begun to for- get his recent troubles in the spirit of good fellowship and merriment of the season. The old gentleman lit the cigar his ' host had given him, "How about my two bags?" he ask- ed, %I ought to—" "Pel seed someone round with them later," said the other, unless, of course, you want to do the Santa. Claris business again, .in which case we—" "Not for weeds!" said Mr, Britten - don has+ilv, *. * * * * * Time col: ;table stood at the end of 1 MA beat. 'ii re were, two half -sever - 1 :s in his „ ice!:,%•'' QU ' !. E R NEVER GETS ANYWHERE , By Herbert .Kaufman, Every Man who ever did anything really' great did it by himself. Suc ces can't s be'gained ga nod � v ithout confi- dence. rr Halfh ' t e fibre 'of achieve- ment is egotism. .It•his the force that carries the struggler to the goal. He must' believe in his ability ---he must possess so much tenacity and courage that others become- infected with his. assurance. When he meets witli'dis-' belief and 'discouragement„ his own faith. has to support and sustain'him. ! Andsuch' faith is only •to 'be arrived at by training, jul t as the athlete's stride 1iI the result Of months .of effort, 'and' the ha;mmertlxrower's torm is the•:out- come. of 'untiring 'practice. .Self-confidence is a moral, muscle, 'Which requires development.: it' is no different •from `any other, thew -and. sin- eiv-'-it can only grow strong through use. . If you never" try, no 'one will ever try for you, If you. don't Make a start no one will give you the- ini- petes. , The world is seIftshe-every . individual is endeavoring to the best of ;his night'•to utilize- his knowledge' and experience, and advantages tohis -own profit. • • • Onlythe ainbiti.ous achieve, and am- bition, mbition, without initiative, .is, ha useless- possession. It has as much value as a gun without ammunition.- . Big things are hard to get, .other- wise they , would have no value. Ground - fruit .:-is easier to pick than that on the. tree but if it were sound , it wouldn't, lie so low. What is not difficult to secure can, be just as readir. . ly gotten by everybody else. The lit- tle posts are always hardest to hold. because they require so little ability to maintain and the competition among men who can fill them is many times more Intense than the striving higher up.' • Contentment is rust -men who are satisfied with what they have done soon cease to be of value to them- , selves and to others. Every twenty- four -hours produces a. change in the I ways of doing things, and the self - complacent man, content with • his knowledge and his opportunity, soon becomesa back number --he stands still while thingsaremoving forward. Don't be , afraid of risking . your. present position if you possess enough ability to 'hold it, you can hold another: An • the other hand, if you are not that capable, sooner' or later. some one better qualified to do what• you are doing will get your place. "He 'who is afraid to venture his bait will never fish"—if you. believe that, you possess the power to do bet- ter things than yon are doing—If you think that you are gifted with ea- parity tolfulfil greater responsibilities, you will 'stay where 'you 'are until the end, -if you - don't make the effort ,to climb to where you rightfully,, belong; Suppose you do- undergo'a setback or two on •the way to greater prosper. ity, if you're not willing to stand a stumble, you haven't grit and courage enough to hold on to things after you got them, Eyc•ry man who ever shinned ii f a tree had to slip down the trunk, time and time again until he caught on• to the branches and pulled himself up. Every new swimmer keeps sinking un- til ho finds how to use his arms and legs In, water, A quitter never gets anything, It was very early Christmas morn-' lag; it would have been quite dar,s in the, bedroom if it had not been for the bright street light outside the window. • Side by side against the wall ' stood two white beds,. In one slept Charlie Kennedy, aged five; in the 'other, Donald Kennedy, aged seven, lay awake. ' From the foot of each bed hung a stocking. "It looks like night out ofi, doors," thought Donald. . "But I • b'lieve it is really morning, and if it is morping• I shall just have one peep into my stocking to, e what Santa Claus has brought me."se Donald slipped a bare pink foot .cau- tiously out of bed, then the other fol- lowed,- and in his blue and white striped pyjamas he crept to the well- filled stocking and 'emptied the con- tents oil the quilt. In . the dim light he could see bail, a knife, a Chinese puzzle, ,an orange, and a box of sweets, also a clockwork motor boat. • He put the things carefully, back, then looked longingly at his brother's stocking. „a,' '. • "I'll just peep at Charlie's That Will beano harm." he thought. •• •• Charlie had much the same 'as Don-, aid, only in place -at the; clockwork ,motor boat; there 'was a:cannon,° Don•: -aid handled it lovingly. - "Santa' Claus ought to have known that L mean to be a soldier. -He should have given me this cannon,", be mut- tered, "Charlie is to be a sailor, so the ..motor boat `would«be just the thing for him,. Santa -Claus lies made a mistake—that's whathe has done." Donald put back Charlie's presents and crept. into his warm bed. ' But he coilid not sleets he kept thinking of thecannon and ' the . motor boat. "I, am sure Santa Claus has' made a muddle about its. • 'I shall . set things right." • . . And so : saying, Donald got cut of bed once more, and put Charlie's can- non do his own stocking,• and gave his brother themotor boat. • Having done this, Donald once more got into bed, and this . ante he soon went to sleep.• : II a .It was Christmas Day and : break- fast -time, Around the breakfast table in . the -dining-room, decorated with evergreens, sat Mr, and 'Mrs. Kennedy, Donald and Charlie, ' and their sisters Doris and Rose, whilst Uncle Bob was placed between Donald and Charlie to see that they :'behaved themselves," as he laughingly remarked. As they were all chattering, :Ellen, the parlormaid, entered with a tray. On the tray was a letter. "I wonder who it is from?" remark - lel Mrs. Kennedy. "I tine sure the post has never arrived as early. as this on Christ .has Da.y." ""It !s addressed, to Master 'Donald anct .Master Charlie, and I`found, it in the drawing -room grate; ma'am, ' It looked just as if it 'had fallen down the chimney," said Ellen, "What a peculiar place for a: letter! Do let me see who it's from,. Shall I. read it omit to you, boys?" asked his mother, "Yes, please, mummy. I expect it !s from Santa Claus. • I dare say he dropped it down the. imney in pass- ing," said Donald, Mother and father smiled at this suggestioin, whilst ,'Uncle Bob. grinned, broadly,• "Why, it is from' Santa :Claus, as you said," remarked . Mrs.. Kennedy, looking very surprised. He .writes; • "Dear Donald and •Charlie,•• ---A line ,n great haste to say that I have just found I have made a mistake about the things I put in your stockings last night. I did not know before which sf you had settled to be the sailor and which the soldier, or I should have given the presents differently. Now I know, and, to make up, please look in the porch, and the box of soldiers Vau will find there is for the bo Ywho had the motor beat, and• the box of f h I to or or th btl c w ort;a Miss . Florence. Thomas, a popular: :he cannon: T hopetidewill please Parry Sound girl, was found dtowned rod both. i should have tett the Bol- in the rivet*. 1 diers and tailors in your bedroom, but it is nearly light as I write this, and I am of a nervous disposition, and should- not like you to see me, as Ii ,am so shy. "Your loving friend, • • "Santa CIaus." "How thoughtful of Santa Claus tel write!" said Mrs. Kennedy. "l sup-; pose Donald has the motor boat, sol will get the box of soldiers; . and! theCharlie has the. cannon, so will have, sailors," ' "No; I have got the.motor boat," said :Charlie.. "And. Donald has 'the cannon," - Donald did not say anything, but he looked very, very Solemn. "Oh, why did , I change my motor, boat for the cannon?" lie thought. • He looked even more serious still when the parcels in the porch were opened, for the box• of soldiers was the most splendid one be had ever -seen., There were rows and rows of horse and foot soldiers, with shining swords. 'and brightly -painted coats. The sail- ors were very nice, butnothing came' up to :soldiers in Donald's eyes. ' "I think there has. been some iris - tai s @ „ said Uncle n le noticing Bob,, cA g th @ piteous expression on hisnephe'w's' face, "I had a private talk with,'Santa' Claus,. and told him particularly that, you 'were to -be the gallant soldier.of, the Kennedy family, and ,Charlie' the sailor boy. There has- been a 'mistake somewhere,; •I am sure:' As the • .ours of . Christmas, Day ,went by the, Kennedy children, with happy, contented faces, played with their new toys—all but Donald, and he' looked more and more solemn, . III. it was Christmas night; Donald and Charlie were .in 'bed„ CharIie•' was, asleep, 'but Donald lay Make- Pre- sently manly footsteps• passed the half -open door. . "Uncle, uncle--is'that you?' Called Donald.', Yes; wlhy aren't you asleep, young manI ca'"' '"n't sleep; I ant worried,' uncle. Please sit on •my bed, quite close to Me. I nant.to confide in yen!' Uncle Bob' smiled in_ thea dark, "Spates .on," he said, . ' "Uncle, you seem- to know more about Santa.•Claus than the rest of us;. you are" friends with him, aren't yoit?'•» "Yes; Santa Claus' and I make little plans together sometimes. What is the matter?" • . • • "Well, it is like this.. I thought that Sant aC1a Claes had made a mistake when I saw. the motor boat in my stocking and the • cannon: in. Charlie's, so• thought I'd mit the they right.. it• Ihad Ieft them as they were, I should have had the soldiers; and I do want • them." - "T thought something odd'had hap- pened," said Uncle Bob.' "Another' time you must. leave Santa Claus. tO rectify his,. own mistakes. I am sorry about the soldiers. but you must. be content with the bailors," • "I am awake," came from the other. bed: "Donald can• have the soldiers. I'd teeny rather have' the sailors, but I did not like to say so," said Charlie.. So Donald had the soldiers and pleased,, the .sailors, and everyone was , ' • And Donald has Made up his. mind ,not to Interfere with • S'anta Claus'' plans another 'Christmas. �• If The'llows-Atopra,pleases fou recom- mend it to your friends' L Wauld STAPLETON SALT WORKS Nghest prices paid* Custom: work solicited. �Xw1AR FOR THE CHRISTMAS TRADE WE HAVE PLACED IN STOCK A LIMITi':D qt. ANTITY OIC` tiA,'i'TY BUT SERVICEABLE NE:C'KIVI.AR. HERE -YOU, CAN DEPEND Of GETTING FRESH ,VP -TO -DATE GOODS 3-t'ST WHEN' YOU WANT • SOMETIIING NICE AND NOT • . MUCH TO PAY. W. BANE AND no FLOUR THE BEST BRANDS .MADE IN CANADA, OATMEAL., , WHEAT ..GERMS - BEANS, FEED, , FLOUR, BRAN, SHORTS CHOPPED FEED. • ALL Ir;INDS OF GRAIN FOR FOWL, c• :SAL"(' I' BARRELS AND BAGS. THE L. SUITTE R CO. ive POut?3 WANTED -- The following. prices are being paid" at the Ilolmesvilpe .Poultry Yards:— • Hens 8c per lb. live:. Chickeue Se to lIe per lb live. Turkeys • 18c, .per , ib. Ducks 13" per lb dressed; Geese ° ilc per, lb dressed. :New !:.aid, eggs; net oven 7 r . days 'old.; 35e per dos, -•• Poultry • to be delivered, with• cropsempty on Monday, Tucsday°and Wednesday morning ;of each week. 'Buying all the year round. Phone 4 on 34.2. , , N. W Trewartha.. �HOLMESVIL.Lid .. Your r P t� ori a e Solicited HAVING PURCIIASED ' THE BLACKSMITRING BUSINESS OF MR. JAMES FLYNN.. WE WOULD RESPECTFULLY SOLICIT . THE PATRONAGE OP' THE ' TOWN . OF CLINTON AND VICINITY. We make a specialty of Shoeing. Lame and Inter- faring Horses and. - guar. antee satisfaction in that line, J - CARRIAGE MAKING A -ND REPAIRING OF ALL KINDS PROMPTLY ATTENDED: TO. GIVE 'L'S A CALL,• CHARGES MODERATE, 411***115.1101.41* SAUNDERS. BEACON & SMYTH • HAVING never&('(' TIHFI 6100 - ERN AND CHIINA BUSINESS OP B. A: McEW1*i, WE ARE IN A POSITION TO' ClIVE GOOD VALVES. ' WE PURPOSE CAR- EYING 'AR-EiING ALL THE LINES I{"dP'i:` IIIIRT FOEIVERLY, THANK-, ING THOSE WHO FAVORED VS 1•L"ITh! TUFIIII, rrATitolimat., 'IN THE PAST, \Inc MAX FOR A CONTINUANCE, AND WILL AS. SURE': ALL WI1b TRADE WITH • I'S TIIA'l' THEY WILL RE- CEIVE 0111 BEST VALVES b AND ALL THE ATTENTION POSSIIII,I'3 T"OR I':S TO GIVE. BEACOM 86 SMYTH"