The Manning times. (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, February 03, 1886, Image 1
VU
In the Lonely Back Pew.
Tha sermon was long and the preacher was
prosy.
The cusbion was soft and the corner w"
oozy;
And, musing. I knew
By my side in the pew
Was a dear little face tiat was dimpled and
rosy.
A stray bit of lace and the curl of a feather
Lay close to my cheek. and I didn't care
whether
The service was long.
Or flirting was wrong
In a loaely back pew, as we knelt down to
gether.
In reading the prayers we had one book be
tween us;
So sweet was her smile that, had nobody seen
UL
While bent on our knees
(Oh how Cupid did teasel1
Iha Wen akiss with the prayer lbook tc
screen us.
In theoriel window the sunlight was gleam
ing.
In my drowsy old brain I felt love fancies
teeming:
Then my heart gave a thump
But my head got ft bump
On the back of the pew-I had only been
dreaming. -Life.
A SOCIETY LADY.
How the Demands of Fashion Are Sat
Isfied.
Errot -tie Morning Bath to the Evening
Reception.
A LIFE OF LUXtRY.
A little French gilt timepiece ticking
away the minutes in an upper room of
one of Murrav hill's fine residences
struck the half-hour beyond 9 o'clock on
a recent morning, and while its deep
cathedral note yet echoed upon the air
there was a sudden movement among
the lace hangings of a brass bedstead
standino in a recess of the same apart
ment, and a woman's face looked forth.
The room was full of pretty things,
warm with the blaze of a hickory fire,
and brilliant with the dazzling winter
sunshine, which, filtering through the
draperies of the broad windows, lay in
patches of light on floor and furnsh
ings, but there was nothing one-half so
pretty. so warm, or so brilhant, no pict
ure so sunny or dazzling within the four
walls, as that made by this same face,
the face of a young and lovely woman.
which, flushed from the pillow's downy
caress, the eyes dewy with sleep. and
the rumpled chestnut hair framing the
whole in sweet confusion looked out to
see what had awakened its owner.
"Oh, it's you, vou chattering little
clock." as hei eye 'fell upon the telltale
hands, then, before she sank back into
her nest, she leaned out to touch an
electric button within easy reach. A
moment and a soft knock prefaced the
entrance of a nest-looking middle-aged
woman in cap and apron.
"Good mornin, Barker," came from
the pillows. s-3y bath, please;" and
rfarker opened a second door and dis
appeared. In three minutes she was
back standing at the bedside with a
bath gown of thick, soft flannel and a
pair of low shoes, warm and woolly.
The young woman got up, suffered the
flannel garment to be thrown over her
lace and cambric night dress, thrust two
white feet into the wadded shoes, and
crossed to the bath-room.
Barker only waited to take from
various drawers and presses an outfit of
feminine apparel, finished with an em
broidered muslin combing gown whose
ribbons were of the same pale-pink hue
as tinted the silken stockings, before
.she vanished a second time, and the
room was left to the clock and the fire,
with occasional mufflied splashings from
the naiad in her tub.
But not for lono'. The hall door uin
closed again to amit a tall old negress,
black a, Erebus, her head bound in a
brilliant bandana. She shuffled to the
door of the bath-room and knocked.
"Ez you ready, honey?"
"In a moment, mammy," sounded
from within; then:
"You may come now," and once
more the fire and clock had it nil their
own way in the outer apartment.
Next Barker reappeared be'aring a
silver tray, on whieh~ was a cup of bouil
lon with 'some wafer-like crackers.__She
had scarcely placed her tray upon a
stand and wheeled a luxurious Turkish
chair before the crackling fire when the
inner door was flung wide open and,
fresh from her plunge and glowing with
mammy's vigorous massage, Beauty
came out, her flannel gown wrapped
warmlyv about her and her beautiful
hair still closely snooded in its oilskin
*he sank with supple grace into her
waiting chair, the stand with its light
refreshment quickly lifted to her side;
then, as the lire gleamed too ardently
on the soft, clear skin, Barker inter
posed a glass screen. which tempered
the flame's fervor, while it took nothing
from its cheerful light.
While the bouillon was sipped and the
crackers munched manmmy broug~ht a
low hassock. upon which she dIrew her
voting mistress' feet. and with gentle,
caressing touch p)ut aside the wadded
shoes and incased each slender ankle
and arched instep in its silken covering.
using a silver shoe-horn of exquisite
workmanship to spring the little satin
slipper to its place.
Then mademoiselle stood up while the
black hands went deftly on with the
task they loved so well.
"You'~s jest like ez if you was a baby
yet, honey," the old woman said. pat
ting the 'lovely shoulders which rose
smooth and dimpled above the cobweb
chemise; and. -'D~eed, I wish you was,
as she slipped the clinging petticoat of
kitted silk over her charge's head.
Mademoiselle laughed, and the dress
ing went on till, the last ribbon of the
muslin gown tied. mammy was forced
reluctantly enough to resign her nurs
.ling to another's care.
For-Barker had not been idle during
the robing process. The bouillon tray
and stand were gone: a low dressing
table whose beveled mirror was the per
fection of reflective excellence had been
turned to catch the proper light, an
:armlei's chair placed before it, and now,
flanked by her implements of office
rows of silver-mounted brushes and
combs, steel pins. pomades, and per
.fumed water-the priestess of the hair
dressing cereimonial awaited her victim.
Mademoiselle seated herself, Barker
slipped off the oilskin cap, loosened
some pins, letting the veil of. chestnut
hair fall in wavy richness quite to the
fioor, and begizn her work. As the tire
woman labored her mistress let her eves
.stray idly before her, and her glance
lelun- a little crystal vase upon the
dressing-table whiieh lieit' a single
fading rose.
What did she see in its rusty petals
and crumpled leaf to call up that curious
half-tender light to her face, and why
should this expression die slowly away
and the proud lines of the exquisite
mouth obtrusively show in its stead?
-Barker," codly, --don't keep flowers
about that are not fresh."
"No, miss," said Barker respectfuly,
but wonderinglv: then her eve, too. fell
upon the condemned Marechal Niel.
-I left the rose, miss, because you had
it in your hand last night when you
came in, and there was a bit of water in
the vase where you put it, so I thought
you would not vish it disturbed."
Did a faint blush mantle that smooth
white brow, or was it the wanton fire
light which filled the room?
"Very well, Barker; it is of no further
value."
And now the hair is done and the
muslin gown is doffed for a robe of pale
iis cashmere ined throughout with
quilted satin and trimmed from neck to
hem and at throat and wrists with cost
ly fur. Then Barker hands a bit of
embroidered cambrie exhaling a faint
spicy fragrance, and draws aside a
heavy portiere, through which made- I
moiselle passes to a moring-room be
yond. a beautiful, cozy apartment full
of bric-a-brac and objects of art, an open
upright piano in one corner, with a
banjo, the latest craze, tilting its flat
sphere against one leg. A sea-coal fire
lows in the burnished grate, a tiger
6kin rug sprawls before it, and a break
fast service of transparent china and
old silver is set out upon a claw-legged
mahogany table near the center of the
room.
As mademoisell enters. a beautiful
collie leaps forward. fawn-ing against
hit r and thrusting his nose under her
caressing hand. His mistress pats him
a little absently and moves on to the
table. where at her plate is piled the
morning mail. Letters. notes, cards of
invitation, one or two black-edged
funeral announcements, for death moves
in the best society, too-she looks them
all over without great eagerness, though
her eves brighten when she opens one
to read that a prominent man of fashion
begs the honor of leading a coming
nich-talked-of cotillon vwith her, nor do
they dull when the next note informs
her that her presence is desired among
a small select party which an aristo
cratic society matron is arranging to
take to her eo'mntrv-house for a winter's
lark. She goes on thro-ugh her letters
while a servant brings the breakfast
fruit, chocolate, a pair of reed birds,
with potatoes a la creme, with an
omelette aux confitures.
Mademoiselle cats with relish and
appetite, while the dog, on his haunches
by her side, his forefeet on the floor,
niakes with his head in the air a long.
silky, inclined plane of his back, which
ends effectively in a brush of waving
fur. His eyes follow every movement of
the fair eater, but his dumb entreaty
gains him naught till the meal is done.
One letter of her many that morning
she has not yet opened. She takes this
now, and as she breaks the seal the
same fleeting look which the dying rose
'ad evolved co-rs back. The note is
short, a half dozen lines:
"I found my orders awaiting me last
night. I leave to-night.' May I call
late this afternoon to say grood-bv?"
The letter drops from'her hand. The
dog sees her cessation from writing and
comes over to her feet.
"Yes, Sultan," she says, stroking his
head, "he may come to say good-by.
and then we will think no more of this
charming young officer with his small
pay and slow promotion. and his tempt
ing suggestion oi frontier barracks life."
One more letter is quickly added to
the number waiting to be sent, then
mademoiselle hurres to her room,
where Barker already awaits her.
Twenty minu tes' later, perfectly
dressed in a costume of cloth and fur,
whose elegant simplicity equaled its ex
travagant cost, gloved like a French
woman and shod like an English peer
ess, mademoiselle enters her carriage,
and the tall footman holding the dloor
bends to receive her initial order.
She drives to' her tailor's where she
mounts a wooden horse to have a new
habit adjusted, to the jeweler's to select
a present for a fashionable wedding; at
a forist's she orders a funeral piece sent
to a society house of mourning; she
leaves her carriage for live minutes at a
picture-gallery to glance at a canvas
which her world is discussing; she1
shows herself at a business ieetmg~ of
a charitable organization of which she
is a member lone enough to say that
she will stand at t ec Russian tab~le in a
coming festival; she drives to the fur-I
rier's to choose her sables, and to her
bootmaker's for censultation over bot
tines a la St. Petersburg, and she hurries
finally imto the boudoir of her dearest
friena:
"Just to hope, dear, that you are go
ing down to'Oakcliff' with 31rs. L. on
the 21st. No? So sorry. And, oh,
Nell, will you kindly lend~ me that little
book on tigures for the ger'man your
brother sent out from 'Vienna last
month? 31r. R. and I want sonme novel
ties for the Worthington ball."
"That is the hist,'~ she says to herself
thankfully when she has kissed her
friend good-by, and "Hlome.'' is the
word the footmnan takes as he climbs to
the coachman's side.
It is 2:3' when Barker is getting her
out of her outdoor wraps, and lunceon
is served, she is told. That meal ovecr,
she must give her maid ten minutes'
confab over t he evening's dresses and
twenty more to criticise an arrangemnent
her dressmaker has sent for inspection.
Then a few moments to loll amnong the
cushions of her divan skimming the
chapters of the last novel before another
toilet is in order. At 5 she is again in
the carriage in a s'umptuous reception
dress, rolling to an --ate'ruooa.- Two
are down on her tablets for that day~,
and by nice calculation she get~s the
cream of both before. shortly after 6.
she stands once more in her own hall
and learns fronm the servant in attend
ance that a gentleman is waiting to be
received in the green parlor.
In all the bravery of brilliant dress.
dropping only the~ fur-lined carriage
wrap, sie crosses the hall. Fifteen,
twenty minutes pass. then the portiere
of the green parlor is put aside and a
young man comes out. His face is pale
and lIis lips are compressed, but his
bearing is erect and soldierly, and there
i. aglem of .omathin in hijs kindfln
,ve which i.:i . :'. fli: s.orn when
,fiat mp of a -u--sh cleared
anguidly. lie re.m =- rii i..ith
warm.1th and i-h.: d on t.:. );--d is
pread an iin dr- . : Md
ilken sheen.
briel% ) enxrtam
and dinuer ;-; noit ui aie
"1ep mce off wi'h tit-! thinu *: 'iv;n
a loose gown :nd - :- -ere
before the in- .
"Your floo.-. it o- -u- 'he
maid. ansv.....mdomi:h ring
halt an hru:' lar. b):I, tix.h VunZ girl
scarcely giati et th ;'.r npt
-I shA! b'! 1:1 . IBa -rkef. -
"make ha:!. to drusm n-.
There are two ho::rs (. diinnr and
three hours of lill )i thron,.h with bn
fore ndm! .' v day -.
and the lwt:en * - h, h'r a
canonied con-i. T world h.- n
at h'er e-. :Ini i ~ I'Ic.n of
triunph and p r dov, io't wNht): l-ave
the perfect fCee,mn after the fringed
lids are elo.wd and the -t.swe.-: lreath
coles reg~lary through th. ju parted
linz.- -. '. Tms
Jumbo on a Tear.
Jumbo is a o.te chinipanzee and
has received a Christian education.
Visitors at th.- munum will have
noticed him IS lie occupied a cage in
the third story of the mum, and was
very vivaciI-is : r'i- -,howig great
stren-gth n shaking :eht avy iroi bar
and swming"n wt " ienn enhnice on
the fi ing trapoe. "Ju" is a charae
ter and his exploits recntly showed
him to be a schemer of no meani order.
The fastenings of his enyre were thought
secure. his keeper Lowanida, always tak
ing the precaution to carefully padlock
the bars; but woc alas to carelessness!
A ker was left in the lock and his worthy
monkeyship proceeded with great cau
tion and subtlety to unfasten his lock
and liberate himself from the dreary
confines of the cage. Once out Jumbo.
like all true revolutionists, made license
of liberty and commenced to free the
birds by running across to the other
cages; letting out the coeatoos, parrots
and other rare birds, and stirring them
up with a club, as various marks found
on the aforesaid birds would indicate.
There is a large glass cage in the mu
seum. and on the same floor. in which
are kept several snakes of the constrict
or species. A Bunson burner, connected
with tubing and lighted to warm the
occupants, was burning, and the Gallic
looking chimpanzee thought he would
investigate. How it occurred the keeper
could not tell, but coming up-stairs, he
'beard the unusual chatter of the feath
ered tribe, and then suddenly a fiendish
yell, that indicated something unusually
interesting, and startling. Bounding up
stairs a strange sight met his gaze. The
monkey had just leaped out of the snake
den and a large constrictor was drag
ging after him. his fangs fastened in
the unhappy Jum's stump of a tail. At
the sight of the keeper the howling mon
key made for the stairs, the snake still
clinging to him, sweeping a dozen
sleeping parrots out of the way, who set
up a perfect pandemonium of screeches
at the disturbance. Lowanda says it
was worth a man's life to see that chim
panzee go down the stairs and thump
ine the constrictor after him, who like
a ull-dog never let up. Hastily closing
the snake den and extinguishing the
light, Lowanda ran down to the second
floor and then began the chase. Over
the freak stages, upsetting chairs and
smashing medicine and photographs in
a way that was a caution; then crossing
the hall, leaping the iron grating that
separates the crowds from the theater,
the monkey went at a headlong gait,
leaving his~ snakeship stranded" high
and dry on the wire grating-a wiser if
not thoroughly awakened snake. Down
into the darkness of the pasage went
"Jum," and at the bottom of the stairs
he collided with a colored girl who was
working about the buildng, and the
now thoroughly frightened monkey,
chattering and jibbering, clung with
miht anal main to his friend "in need."
fowanda says he appeared at the top
of the landing just as they rolled over,
and that the chimpanzee had a lot of
bangs and frizzes of African fashion
and cut in his paws; howsoever be it,
"Jum" was captured and taken back to
his den, docile and wheezing slightly
from his exertions. When a reporter
saw him he was esconsced demurely on
his haunches, and at the approach of
the newspaper man he cocked his eye
and scratched his chinchilla whiskers
as much as to say. "Old chappie, it's a
cold day when we get left."-St. PauC
Goe.
She Was in Trouble.
A young woman, befurred and eye-.
glassed, sat near the stove weeping. It
was not a hearty, yard-wide weep, but
a furtive dropping of half-repressed
tears upon the corper of a scented hand
kerchief-merely a bit of a thaw in a
cold wind.
"In trouble, miss?" queried the gray
haired and sympatlhetic passenger.
"Ye-yes," was the sniveling reply.
"May I inquire the nature of your
woe, young lady? Possibly I can com
fort vou."
And for answer she snuffled up two
or three times in her nose, reached into
her dress pocket and pulled out a crum
pled telegram. saying: "Read that."
The sympathetic passensrer adjusted
his specetacles, hemmed and hawed,
turned half round in his scat, and can
tiouly held the ominous missive to the
light.~ He rea:d:
-Conme home at once. Your doggie
is sick."--Chicago ficrald.
There is a certain man about townI
whose generosity is not unbounded. Ho
is uiti ready to accept, and even to ask
for favors, but is not so often known to
rcirocate. There come to him, how
ever. aus to all men sooner or later, oc
casions when it is impossible to avoid
the semblance of hospitality anJd gener
osit. even if he possesses it not. A for
muau of his for suach dire necessity, I
hear runs in this wvay: (Moderat)
'ld invite you to dinnyr to-day (an
dante) lbut Eve are to have codfish to
lay (allegro anid staccato. without wait
ing for 'a dreaded acceprtance) and I
kno, yon don't lUke eodti.'h."-Bostonl
The Model for a Marble Hand.
After the restoration of Louis Philippe
to the French throne, many of Napol
eon's soldiers were left in comparative
poverty. One of them, a famous Gen
eral, had a beautiful daughter whom he
wished to marry rich, but who fell in
love with a poor young man-an under
secretary or something of that kind.
She married at her father's request a
rich Count. but refus-ed at the weddin&
ceremony to allow the ring to be place
upon her left hand, upon which she
wore a ruby, put there by her lover.
Her jealous husband was not long in
finding out what was the matter, and,
intercepting a letter in which the ardent
young lover claimed Matilda's hand as
his, he determined upon an awful re
venge.
One night as the celebrated surgeon
Lisfrance was returning from a profes
sional visit, he was captured by a party
of men, blindfolded and taken to a dis
tant palace, and led through a labyrinth
of passages and rooms, At length his
conductor, stopping, said: "Doctor, we
have arrived; remove your bandage."
The doctor, whose fears had given place
to a restless curiosity and a vague ap
prehension, obeyed. and found himself
in a small chaniber furnished with re
markable luxury, and half lit by an
alabaster lamp hung from the ceing.
The windows were hermetically sealend
as well as the curtains of an alcove at
the end of the room.
Here the doctor found himself alone
with one of his abductors. He was a
man of imposing height and command
ing air, and his whoe exterior of the
most aristocratic stamp. His black
eyes gleamed through the half mask
that covered the upper part of his face,
and a nervous agitation shook his color
less lips, and the thick black beard that
inframed the lower. "Doctor," said
he, in an abrupt, loud voice, "prepare
for your work-an amputation."
"Where is the patient?" asked the doo
tor, turning toward the alcove. The
curtains moved slightly, and he heard a
stifled sigh. 'Prepare, sir," said the
man convulsively. "But. sir, I must
see the patient." -You will see only
the hand you are to cut off." The doc
tor, folding his arms and looking firmly
at the other, said: "Sir you brought me
here by force. If you need my profes
sional assistance I shall do my duty
without caring for that or troubling my
self about your secrets; but if you wish
to commit a crime you can not force me
to be your accomplice." "Be content,
sir," replied the other, "there is no
crime in this," and leading him to the
alcove he drew from the curtains a
band. "It is this you are to cut off."
The doctor took the hand in his; his
finers trembled at the touch. It was a
lad's hand, small, beautifully molded
an( its pure white set off by a magnifi
cent rubv encircled with diamonds.
"But," cried the doctor, "there is no
need of amputation; nothing is-"
"And 1, sir! I say," thundered the
other, "if you refuse I will do it myself,"
and, seizing a hatchet, he drew the hand
toward a small table and seemed about
to strike. The doctor arrested his arm.
-Do vour duty then, doctor." "Oh,
but this is an atrocious act," said the
urgeon. "What is that to you? It
ust be done. I wish it; madam wishes
it also; if necessary she will demand it
herself. Come, 'madam, request the
doctor to do you this service." The
doctor, nouplused, and almost fainting
under the torture of his feeling<. hearI
from the alcove, in a hail-expiring
voice and an inexpressible ac'cent of de
spair and resignation: "Sir, since you
are a surgeon-yes-I entreat you-let
it be you and notz-Oh, yes; you! you!
in merev" "Well, doctor," said the
man:0, -you or 1."'
The resolution of this man was so
frightful. the prayer of tihe poor lady so
full of en:n-iaty and desp~air, .that the
doctor feit that even humanity com
manded of him compliance with the
appeal of the victim. He took his in
struments with a hiust imploring look at
the unknown, who oniy pointed to the
hand, and then with at sinking heatrt
began the opecration. For the first time
in his experience his hand trembled;
but the kxiife was doing its work. There
was a err from the alcove, and then alt
was silenit. Nothing was heard but
the horrid sound of the operation till
the haind and the saw fell together on
the floor.
Lisfrance wore the ruby upon his
watch-chain, where it was seen by the
young lover on his return to Paris, and
out of it grew a duel that led to the dis
closure of the infamous crime. The
morning after the young lover' s arrival
at the capital lhe was presented by a
man in livery withi an ebony box.
Opening it he discovered a bleeding
hand, Matilda's, and on it a paper with
these words: "See how the Count of --
keeps his oath." After the duel the
young man fleed to Brussels, where the
bleedmng hand was transferred to can
vas. Hart seeing the painting copied
it in marble.-Lexingtonl (Ky.) 1.eter
to Cincinnati Enquirer.
An Extra Quarter.-A peddler of tin.
ware in one of the mountain counties of
this State called at a farm-house the
other day, where the woman wanted to
sell him a bear skin. " 'Tain't worth
no great shakes," said the peddler after
looking it over. "The b'ar was killed
two months too early."~ "How much?"
asked the woman. 'About 75 cents."
Se here, stranger," she continuedl as
she gave the skin a rub, "when I tell
you that this 'ere b'ar clawed my hus
band to death less'n two months ago,
and that I'm still a grievin' widder-wo
man, can't you make the price a dol
lar?" Beinge a nmn of sentiment and
tinware comnbined he said he could.
Wall Street News.
General Longstr'eet thinks that his
unl'. William Longstreet, of Augusta,
Ga., should share with Robert Felton
the laurels of the inventor of steam'
boats. T1his ingenious Georgian was
big with the idea as early as 1788, but it
was not until 1808 that lhe succesf:ully
ran a boat byv steam" in the Savamnah.
--P'ap." said lttie Ja1cobi, kinking ui
from his Sundayv-sch'ool paper. "here i'
a piece that say'-.er v'ersus Whisky.
Shall I read it-" '"T'row dat paber im
de sechtove. Shaky. Innv mans vot say'
beer is vorse as visky ain't lit for nlod
ings except kindling-rood."-- fling
GAMUBLER RANSUM.
How Ile Saved a Man from Ruln and Nade
a Family Iappy.
"I couid relate lundreds of stories
about his life." .aid a shining light of
the N. Y. Athleti Clu b speaking to a re
I porter of the N. Y. Mil & Expre.s about
the well-known sporting man Charley
Ransom, who dict recently. "There is
one story about him which the papers
have not publizhed yet. Charley and I
made the acquaintance of what we
thought to be a very wev'lthv man at the
Monmouth Beach racP-course two years
I ago last summer. le was introduced
to us by a prominient official of police
headquarters. .After the races were
over, all three went over to Long
Branch. Charley and I came up to this
city on an early train, leaving our new
acluaintance bhind. I never saw him
after that, but Charley one day met him
on Broadway, near Twentv-third street.
They went to the Fifth Avenue hotel to
get a drink. I don't know exactly how
it was, but that same night both sat
down in the room of a neigrhboring ho
tel to play draw-poker. 7 do not wish
to disclose the gentleman's name. be
cause he is a good father now and be
cause such indiscreetness on my part
might hurt his present fair chances; but
he was a confounded ass for his own
sake. Charley was an honest fellow,
however, and he played a square game.
Our new friend dropped $375 that night,
all he had in his possession. He made
an appointment for the next evening in
the hope of getting even. but he again
quit a loser. This time he threw up his
hands to the tune of $1,200. They kept
playing every odd night until the mid
dle of the following Dccember. Our
gay friend by that time was minus, ac
cording to hiq own calculation $18.900.
Charley wanted him to give up poker
half a dozen times before he lost this
amount, but in each instance he refused I
The fellow commenced to drink like a'
fish and Charley confidentially told me
he'd be hanged before he'd 'sit down
with him again. He never did play af
ter that, although the fellow accused
him of being afraid to render satisfac
tion.
'One mornin about 10 oclock Char
Icy fell in wit the would-be sport on
Sixth avenue. He was partly intoxicat
ed, and his dissipated appearance de
noted he had not seen a bed for several
nights. Charley endeavored to get
away from him on the plea of business.
but it was useless. Our friend held on
to the lapel of his overcoat and insisted
that they repair to a room and indulge
in a game. But the devil could not
have altered Charley's fixed determina
tion and he said so.' While both were
talking a little boy of about 12 years
and touched the leg of Char
Iey's foolish friend. There "was a little
snow on the ground, and the little fel
low's feet protruded from a broker. pair
- of boots. He had neither overcoat nor
mittens on, and he really looked the
picture of misery. Turning around, our
friend saw the boy, and Charley often
told me he turned deadly white. 'What
are you doing here?' he finally asked
the lad. 'Oh, papa,' stammered the
boy, moving backward, as if he was
afraid, -I have been looking all over for
you. Aunt and mamma sent me to find
you.' This drove the fellow almost
mad, and lie broke out with frightfnl
oaths, winding up by bidding the boy
to get home or he would kick him all
over the street. The lad departed with
out a word, but before going lie cast a
most signiticant but affectionate look at
the mian he called father.
"Charlev had had enough, and break
ing away from the man's grasp he
walked in the opp)osite direction to that
taken by the boy. The father, after a
moment's hesitation, went into a gin
mill. When Charley saw him disappear
from view he turned on hi.s hee~l and
with a qutick gait startedl after 'he lad.
He overtook him at Twenty-iiftl street.
The bor' would not talk for so ne time,
but finally he broke dlownz and told all;
informed~ him how his fatther was fast
ruining a good business down town;
how he had mortgaged! the house they
lived in. on-well, never mind what
street, how mother, sister, and self were
being neglected. :tbused, and starved,
and how their once comfortable home
was faist going to pieces. Well, the end
of that business~ was that a sober man
entered his home that night, and a
weeping wife em braced hi m. They
were tears of joy. I assure you. 'Ine
mortgage was paid off the next day, a
good business wa~s revived, and a man
who not long before wished to be a
sport. sat down to dinner with his fami
ly in his cozy dining-room. No matter
how the thing was managed. I promi
ised a dead friend I would never tell
any cue about it, but I could not keep a
secret, for lie was a good fellow. HeI
may have been a sporting man; may
have earned a living by cards, and may
have associated with sonic rough per
sons, but I'll warrant there never
walked along the path of life a better
man than Charley~ Ransom.
No P'. sw for the Creditor.
'iR.uiher a strange thing occurred the
other dlay," said a jewelry drummer, as
he lighted a match on his pantaloons;
"I went to a town out ir hwa to settle
up an account with a firm there that
had been running behind on their pay
ients. The firm, composed of two
brothers, wvas one of the largest in the
town. and I had no fear of trouble, but
when I arrived there I found that they
had dissolved p~artniership and closed
business."
"Didn't iose anything, did vo'i?"
"Lose anything? Shiould say we did.
One brother- took alt the stock and skip
ped cast, and the other took all the cash
and lit out for the west. What show
has a poor creditor mot coming in on
the shank end of suc71 a dissolution of
co-partner-hip as that?"'-Thicago Hecr
ald.
A Mat' 1'treetmrh.p a rad
and pre'pared I iliimself to "'npy it wito
hs eustomers. Aliong iu** ~thnrnoo
tie wife of ani artist came i n i -
Ied it at on'e. -'h Mr. l." -h a'.
-h'sa ha ndsomenu t''ur' 'm yv~ wm
cal t orelf, i do . 'ou"r.tts
excellent,"'pursuete lay--n 1m
lad to sec ai love of art dere(loipig m
commercial circles. What is the figure
- -Hbe" O, no, ma'am: it's phistar
paris"-.Merchant Tran'cr
THE LITTLE SCL L;O A - .
"Speakin' of the rural regions," said
an old chap at the end of a bar, who
had trouble in raising a glass of beer to
his mouth with his right arm, "I might
be indooced to relate a leetle adventure
which happened to me in Injiany."
He was earnestly advised to free his
conscience of its burdens. and be con
tinued:
"Well, I had been hangin' around In
dianapolis for several weeks. and finally
the police judge advised me to leave
town. I never argy with a police judge.
When they come right (own to fatherly
advice I accept it and git. I left the
town inside of two hours, and it didn't
take me over three hours to reach a
mile-post ten miles away. About 4
o'clock in the afternoon, a I was restin'
beside the highwav. a schoohna'am
passed. She was a ehipper leetle body,
weighin' about ninety pounds, and
white-faced, and vhen I sort o' riz up
to ax her if she didn't have a bite to eat
in her basket she uttered a womanish
yelp and started off on a dead run. I
lidn't her my swaller-tail coat and
standin' collar on that day, and I guess
she took me fur a tramp.
"Now, gents, when a feller is ragged,
hungry, and out o' rhino, what does he
do? He makes a break, in course. I
walks along fur about a mile, and when
I comes to a farm-house with a look of
comfort about it I iln and asks if a
poor man who has lost his hll family
in the great Chicago lire can git a bite
to eat, to brace him up as he journeys
toward the settin' sun. The motherly
old soul of a farmer's wife would hey set
out a square meal for me, but that leetle
schoolma'am was there to prevent. I
heard 'em whisperin' together in the
next room, and by and by the old lady
came back and give me the bounce. A
tramp as has beionged to the purfesh fur
fifteen %-ears hadn't orter lire up over
sich a tritle as that. but it hit me like
a blow below the helt, and I determined
on revenge.
"I went into the orchard and stole
some apples, and then laid around to
watch. I found out afore dark that the
farmer was an old man, and that there
was only three of 'em in the house.
Long 'nuti' fore tile lights were out I
had arranged with mvself to break in.
There was a chance ofi plunder, and I
inteided to scare that leetle sehoolma'amn
out of a year's growth. I don't say as I
would hev laid hands on her, but that
very thing might hev happened, you
know.
"Well, about half an hour after mid
night I begins operations by creepin'
up to the back door. It was shut, but
not locked, and I crept in, struck a
light, and found my way to the pantry.
Tuere was cold meat, pumpkin pie. and
bread and butter, and it tok me a good
half an hour to till up. i might hvr
got out then, but I wanted soIethin'
else. There was nobody sleepin' down
:,tairs, and after pocketin' a watch I
crept up-stairs into the old folks' bed
room. They was sleepin' as sound as
you please, and the moon shinin' in
furnished all tie light needed. I went
through a bureau and got a wallet, and
was searchin' the old man's pants,
when I heard a step at the door an a
voice cried out: 'Surrender or I'll shoot!'
"It was that leetle hclioohnia'am. She
stood in the door in her night-dress, a
revolver pointed full at me, and I could
see her eyes blaze. I made a rush to
seize -her, when 'crack! crack! went the
revolver, and one bullet struck me in
the right shoulder and another in the
side. I went down as if shot through
the head, and up jumps the old man
and piles on to m like a ton of briek.
The little schoolma'anm went down
stairs after a rope, and then helped tie
me hand and foot. More'n that, she
kept guard over me while the old man
went otl' for an otlieer, and every time
I fetched a groan she had that revolver
readyv to shoot.
'lin conclusion, gents, permit me to
remark that the court give me five
years for that little all'air, while the
plucky leetle schoolma'amn received a
public purse of $200. Sometimes I've
felt as if it was my dooty to hunt her
up and marry her. "-New Tork Sunl.
Forcing the American Hog on Europe.
Among the bills introduced in the
Senate last week and appropr;iately r'e
ferred was one by Senator Edwmnds,
"providing for the inspection of mueats
for exportationi, prohibliing the im
portationl of adulterated articles ol
ood anid di'rik, and authorizing the
Presidenit to make proclamation in
certain cases."
Senator Edmunds said that this bill
adi been r'eported last year from *.he
committee on foreign relations. Be
sides providing f'or the, inspection .of
por'k, &c., tor' exportation, it contain
ed, lie said, a section giving the Presi
dent authority, whenever he was eon
vinced that unjust uji-crimi nation wa,
made against the admission of' Ameri
can products into other countn'es, to
pi ohibit thle intr'oductioni ot such
articles as lie thought fit for the pro
tetion of the just interests of the
United States. In view of what he
(Edmnunds) saw in the newspapers
about current events in other countries
touchmi g Amierican pr'otucts on t he
theory that they were supposed to be
disealed, when'the fact was obviou
that the object was to exclude them
under any consider'ation, he (Ed
munds) thought it clear that it was
time to introduce this bill again.
CAtN'T BE BEATS
rBE DRIVEN WELL MAKES IT EASY to ge'
wvater.
No Well CleanIng. ('heap I Durable!
CALL ON '
T. C. Scafe,
SUMTER, S. C.
JACOBI HOUSE,
FLORlENCE .9. C.
M. JTACoBL AGT
gt'L ver stb'e in ece-:;Ie F.' e5
INSURANCE AGLai,
MANNING, S, C.
Wm. Sepherd & Co.,
128 MEETING STREET,
CHARLESTON, SO. CA.
STOVES,
STOVES STOVES
-AT
WHOLESLE
AND
RETAIL
-o
Tinwares, House Furnishing Goods,
Potware, Kitchen and Stove Utemsils.
12 Send for Price List and Ciren
lars.
i C. H. CLAUSSEN & C0,,
SIBam Upl ud Cady FacItl',
CHARLESTON, 8.C.
W. A. Reckling,
.A.R TIS T,
110i MAIN STREET,
COLUMBIA, S. C.
Portraits, Photographs, Ste
reoscopes, Etc.
OLD PTCTURES COPIED AND ENLARGED.
bept 16
EDEL BROS.,
RICHMOND, VA.,
)anafacturers of
Tobacco & Cigars,
And Wholesale Liquor Dealers.
GRAND CENTRALE
HOT EL,
Cluza1bia. S. C.
U. HI. FISHER, Prop'r.
NOTICE TO. FARMERS.
I respectfully call to the attention of tGw
Farmers o1 Clarendon the fact that I hnr.
secured the Agenry for tns Corbin 1'-.i
Harrow, Planet .J r. H orset Hoe and Cc>
vaor, Johnson Harvester and the C.:
nental teap--r. I have one of each of the.
intrutnns for display at my stables, :
will take pleasure in ahowing and ex1ini -
ing their utility. No progressive ?arnL.e.
can afford to do without these itapiluen.
W. K. BELL, > ,
Apr15 Manning, S. 1.
Notice I
I desire to call to the attention of the MUi.
Men andt Cotion Planiers of Clarendo~n,
that I have secured the agency for thi.
County. for the DAN! EL PRATT R&~
VOLVING H EAD GIN. Having use-d
tils Giu r or several years I can recommenu
it as t he be.'t Gin now in use. Any infor
rnation in regard to the Gin will be cheer
tlly given. I camn also supply the peopi.:
o Giarendon with any other machine;y
which they may ne-ed, at the lowest prie( -s.
Parties n i~liir:g to purchase gins will tid
it to t ber inte r, s- to) .,ivetheir ord--rs ear'.y.
'u. SCO3IT IT A I:VN,
May 5 MaLnag: C.
W. F. B.Evsw~amn, SutS..
HAYNS WORT H & DINKINS,
ATTORNEYS AT LAWS
MAN ING. S. C.
JOHN S. WILSON,
Attorney and Counsellor at
Law,
MANNING, S. C, jant
3. E. SCOTT,
Attorney and Counsellor at
Law,
MANNING,. .C. e
ff~ advertiser to con
R~.._..J.nce or oherwise.
ofth cos of aydertsn .1h eadverie wh
fomation Ite renu res. -whleforhim ho wil
meet his every xrqiremnent, or can be made
*espn*c.*d1j49 editCns ave en Isned.
Sent, pst-pai to any address for 10 cents.
WiE t G EO.P OEL C.