Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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ALON- !,%TH HIS THOUGHTS. $eart-weary of tho v:o:' and of its ways. He lon- . dw, : ap,ar:, al:oe, sca To le:av c :.i tc ;-re^.d cf powcr, th For riches .ad the p:irea -p d;p1avs IIe ionged to ;ud so:eean :ceat, and there.. A:one wi hi.. i;h t:oagi:3. pass ail He found. a: i::s:, the pCace h2 long had Where ..da: r and grccd and want v:ere not, And there, alone, fa: from the noise, he tried To win thC sweet corntment he had To gain in dwe:ing where no other spoke And where no fools with one another vied, But, lonely. lowed crc long his sad heart broke, .- on his way back to men's haunts he died. The world spin as before, men hurried on And never :ared nor knew that he was gone. -S. E. Kiser. OT very far from the Palmer House, in a street where the rents are high and the sur roundings correspondingly im posing, there lurks an old cobbler whose shop in the basement has suf fered but little change in the last thir ty years. That was when it went down In the world, down from the street level where it stood before the fire into the cellar of a comparatively modern building. Oid Hiram, who runs this shop, lives i_t it as he has lived for thirty-fir,e years; his name is over the door; upon the sidewalk, fastened to the handrail that leads to his subter ranean warren, is an antiquated, weather-beaten showcase which for at least ten years has changed as little as the wcrkrcom into which cid Hiram lugs it every-night. All day, sitting by his rusty little stove, old Hiram sits reading. He never works, yet never wants. His trade, such as it was, slipped away from him years ago. He and his meth ods are out of date-long out of date. The occasional stranger who wanders into his place to have shoes made or mended is startled and hurt by the ex orbitant price old Hiram mentions for the work. Old shces cf forgotten pat terns gather dust in littered heaps upon the floor; the bench, in which the cobbler never sits, is cobwebbed and covered with the grime of idle years. Yet Hiram, like a snug old spider, Slives on, paying high rent, feeding well Qi his tunnel, supping innumerable ~.bowls_of hot I.'sh, which he brews in AL A ITIGB I BSYSoE a son mu, nd eaig eaig redng obd kos hw emae a staggling, aillageaing,ermednght, treig livedi akfine "howe maesn Soebakf thityersur ao, wheng the timbers that have since been cut away to make place for the villas of rich summer residents, a French-American family of great wealth, whose name was Lapere. The only child of this house was a daughter, Angela, then rollicking with the innocent exuberance of sixteen years of perpetual June. Doubtless she was very beautiful; per haps her fond parents had brought her away from Boston so that In the lone place by the sea she might remain forever a child, but these details can not be narrated, because, as will ap pear, nobody but Enoch Davies could give them, and he will not, When Angela then was flitting like an elf-sprite upon the margin of the fishing village, which is now Manches ter-tzy-the-Sea, Enoch Davies, the son of a fisherman, who lived in a hut and owned three boats and a great many nets, had reached man's estate (a poor one in his case) and was reputed the handsomest as well as the boldest sea farer along that coast. Having seen Angela always from afar, she became his deity and in some way, for he was an adroit fisherman, he hooked her gently and in secret played her upon the long, strong, silken line until he held her at last fast in his tender heart. Then he went bravely before her father and was cursed, berated and banished for all his fine talk about the future he had planned for hinself and Angela. He was -too' poor: his hands and his manners were coarse. impudent, illit erate, unfit even for genteel servitude. O, Papa Laper2 was harsh with him and he went away downcast, but not yet disheartened. But his first visit to her splendid heme, his first converse with the aristoc:'at, satisfied him that he must look beyond the fishing. village for the empire ta;t he would lay at e4' her feet, so they vowed eternal loyalty together, wept, kisscd and vowed again in scn. moonlit grotto by the water, I su~p . However. Eioch ran away I ;ron3:hiMah : ;mi went into the cattl coun:tltry, whe e iih: gent:le.st must he h od and t:ie co:rsest must be true. And he was true, though every letter that he scrawled to her came back Un opened. In the ten years of his fortune-mak ing not a we,-1K passed that he did nit write to somebody at home for some tidings of the Laperes. They had gone away soon after he had begun writing, leaving no trace after them. Reason ably rich at last he traveled back to the little Massachusetts town and wasted money hunting for Angela. He drifted from city to city reading direc tories, newspapers. door plates, till one day in Chicago. having need of a pair of boots, he chanced into old Hiram's shop, and, sitting in the dim light while the old cobbler picked over his lasts, saw upon the window sill a parcel wrapped in a copy of the Manchester newspaper. "Who brought that in?" he asked, grabbing the package. "A woman-let me see now-I've her name on the book." Old Hiram fixed his glasses and pulled dcwn his greasy account book, and, thumbing it slow ly, said: "Here it is: 'Set back but tons; ladies' pair; .1; A. Lapere; will cal!.' That's her," he said, tossing away the book. "When is she coming?" gasped Enoch, looking round for a place of ccnceal ment. His heart was jolting like a dynamo, his eyes were aspark. his long, brown hand shook. "Dunno," mumbled Hiram, paring a last. "Ought t'drap in most any time. Shoes been done two days an' I need the dollar." Where did she come from? Which way did she go? Was any one with her? To such queries Hiram could give little help, though he remembered enough to say that she looked very pretty, very prosperous, and "seemed to be a great deal of a laCy." But that was all. Enoch haunted that shop like a ghost for days and weeks. He spent his nights quizzing ho'.e clerks and read 1ig the registers of every hctel he could find. Half of his daylight hours were passed with old Hiram in the shop till at last the old cobbler, recall ing somewhat of the agonies of his own dim love tale, became almost morbidly enlisted i the cattleman's quest. Now, of course, this Is - good place to re-enter the long lost Angela, while 1 Enoch, concealed in a closet, wig-wags the old shoemaker to prepare the hero ine for a sudden meeting with an old 1 friend. But, alas for the harsh and unyielding truth that must destroy 2uch clever Imaginings!: AngeM ca not, nor has she come to this day. Enoch was compelled to go at last, but not till he had warned old Hiram to eternal vigilance, not till he had be-1 stowed upon him a large sum to be used if occasion warranted pursuit or surveillance, not till he had Impressed the willing Hiram that, come whati might, the shop must be never closed, never moved, never dismantled till An gela should call for her shoes. And that Is why Hiram never works, nor ever moves away; that is why the weather-beaten old shoecase stands on the sidewalk just as it stood when the] beautiful woman long years ago tripped into the dingy shop with a pair of dainty boots to be fied That Is the mystery of old Hiram, the cobbler. John H. Raftery, In the Chicago Rec ord-Herald. Uncle sam's City. Washingtoni is the Capital of the Coy ernment and the Government Is the capital of Washington. Uncle Sam supports Its people and furnishes them with pocket money. The city's income flows from the United States Treasury, and the assets of the population are the salaries of the civilian office holders. The Government could live without Washington, but without the Govern ment Washington would simply starve to death. From the National Treasury flows a stream of wealth that Is divided and sub-divided until It reaches every hotel, boarding house, restaurant, sa loon, store, shop and place of business and abode in the city. Eight per cent. of the population re ceives this money directly from t'-n Treasury and starts it on its course of distribution. This eight per cent. is the 19,44G civil employes in the various Government departments. They have for distribution annually $19,028,505.72. On that the trade and traffic of Washington Is supported; on that the butcher and baker and candle stick maker thrive; by that sum carned In the buildings of the Government the other buildings of the city are kept filled with tenants. This is the regular daily diet brought to Washington by the army of civil employes of the Government; and, be sides this, the city has frequent des serts and annual feasts, for in additiorn to the above about $3,000,000 goes to ninety Senators and 357 Representa tives and their highly paid subordin ates, and about $1,250,000 to the Army and Navy officials of, high rank and equally high pay, who are frequently in the city, where large sums out of their salaries are spent, to be aided to the regular monthly distribution of $1,63'i,700.-New York Herald. Railroading in Texas. In Texas railroads are amenable to discirline. No train is allowed to wait for another train more than thirty min utes after the time scheduled for its departure. In every other Southern State trains run anywhere from one to seven hours late, sometimes waiting on each cther half a day. Texas has put a stop to this idiocy.-New York the! we! Lioc A Good Location Neccss.ry. hou The first thing required in startt ,en in the po:itry business is a locatit la This ought to be near a good mark and but cannot always be-that is, witho ter paying too high for it. All extra e: Ag: penses should be curtailed in this bus ness, as the income comes in si. A I amounts. After a location is settlei D upon a free range is a necessity. Tha ero gives the needed exercise. and preventrioi an accumulation of lice. The nez the thing is an adaptability to -the busXdar ness. If one cannot be content wittur small earnings, and cannot save thei Cu: as they come in, he should not under foli tale the business. The poultry shoul6 on be breeds that lay in winter, when eggifru are high, if one breeds fowls for th0sca eggs. This branch of the business I T like best. I prefer it to raising poul-ma try for the meat, though the latter maybul be more profitable in some localitis.-hg 1Irs. L. W. Osborne,in Poultry Farmer. ;ei " vl' .. r. ttl & Grindstone. eru Some one writes to the Ame:an .nt Blacksmith to tell how he used a dis- re carded bicycle to drive a grindstone. ea He removed the top brace of the frame tr and stapled the front to a stout post. .0 the near support was constructed ei ram two by four inch timber, and the frame braced below. The sprocket of . 23 b 11 di {1 ; t i i of ra he rear w:eci wac re:noed by cutting 's ts zpckes, and then mounted on the tk ;ame shaft as the grindstone. To do to :his he filled the hole in the stone with g i piece of wood, and bored a hole In :he latter cf the same size as that in et he sprocket. Cf course his axle p vould then fit both. It appears that 1 he chain he used was made up of two. kne was not long enough. The axles vere mounted with ball bearings, and he stone can be driven at lightnin ipeed with little trouble. Thio Age or Tools.- : -Tha tools and machinery ok Ameriea tre capturing the world. The machIne, vithi its unerribg accuracy, has takenT 21e place of human hands In every de- Is >artment of Industry, and has im nensely increase-d the pr-oductive ca-t mecity of the artisan. On the farm, too,N he same rule -controls.' The modern >inlders have superseded the old, slow 0 nethods of the harvest, and rnade the reat grain fields a possibility. To tie g fifective use of machinery cn the farm ei .s due the great exporting capacity of he country, and in every avcation In 0 ife it is the man behind the machine h hat Is moving civilization forward.b Brain power is taking the place of iiuuan muscle, and the rcsult Is an ele ration of the farmIer to a higher plane, ecuiring the application of business f nethods to agriculture. The inevita >le tendency of the increased use of nachinery on the farm Is the indrease n acreage Ib the hands of one man, ince the machines make extensive cul :ure possible over larger areas. The nore efZective the machines are made he wider scope they will need, and p'eat farms, conducted on wise busi-b aess methods, will become more and I more ccmmon s men realize the pos sibilities cf sucha culture. The greatT cumulations of capital will not al ways be kept out of the farm, for the e :apitalists will come to see what nancy will do in businesslike fr-rming.a [t is the age of tools and machinery, r. and the farrn must keep up with the 1 processicn.-Practical Farmer. A House with No Dratn I have alwayz had success in poul try keeping, with the exception of being troubled more or less with roup,n which has done much damage to my (locks from time to time. I believe this was due to Improper ventilation,b which I think I have now overcome. The house here illustrated Is perfect in ventilation, at least I have had noh treable with roup since the hens were b housed In it. The upper part in whicha the fowls reost Is made as air-tight as a possI3le, the walls being covered with ti ti a -a -- ( ......ti i lC tarred paper, so that no air can come in frnblwo ttesides. t blwthe hens, while at the top or1, peak of the roora I have made an open-| ing in the ventilator to draw out all the i feni air from the connpartment injIt< ch the hens roost. -There is no ft around hens, and in the mornin-f' ir roosting place smells as clean as aight. They are very iaihy, lay I and have'had to sic fowls in the k since I used this system. Tie se is ten by twelve feet, with a disr two 1y seven feet. covered wi lh -s. I keep forty heus in th:s house, they have i run of about one-quar acre. - I. B. Kcons, in American icultur st. Fungous Disease of Cnrrant Eus 'es. uring the last season the currant P in the Hud oli Valley has been sc isly injured by a disease causing appearance ' numerous small k brown spots the leaves, which a yellow an fall prematurely. 'rant canes were quite generally de ated early ia the season, and the sequent expost-e of the ripening it to the suL -rought about sua Id, resulting ip ieavy loss. his trouble th currants has been de the subje,of a recently issued letin (No. 199) of the New York ricultural E:perlment Station, at ieva. It is a fungous disease which icks the leaves, leaf stalks, fruit, it stems and canes. and is called hracnose. In New York State is is sent among currants almost every son, but there is no record of Its de active cecurrence since 1889. Al ugh It sometimes attacks also goose 'ries and black currants, it has not ured them in the same locality ere red currants have been serioy naged by it. Anthracnose maS l dily distinguished from the ordin leaf spot by the smaller size of the ts. he weather conditions last spring ,m to have been particularly favora to It, but judgin;; from the past his ,y of the disease it is not likely to ,ome a constant pest. Probably it I become epidcmic only occation n order to prevent these occasional tructive outbreaks of authracnose, 1 also the common leaf spot, cheek i ravages of cane blight and keep irant worms under control, it is ree rnended that currant growers in the dson Valley spray with Bcrdeaux i:ture every season, making the first )lication before growth starts, the ond as the leaves are unfelding and ceafter at intervals of ten or four !e, days until the fruit is twa-thirds xxvn. In wet ccasons make one or r applications after the fruit is gath Whenever worms appear add i green or grecn arsenoid to the eau_. ning and Training Fruit Trees. giving young orchard trees a start ematic pruning and train dei-the-best develop. ~thrift and predue Sof the trees depend a good deal on -how they are shaped when young. re&trees will naturally shoot upward onle straight large trunk, becoming gainly in appearance and unadapted xoducing large crops. The heads ui ccnsequently be cut off early. ~en often make the mistake p~jittt their trees to grow this a enwhen transplanted theiz -o~R must be checked by severe ittng back. Select rather the shaorter -owth, with branches equally devel ed. Such trees will require no se ~re pruning, and the growth will not thius suddenly checked. The young trees need training- from tetart. The shaping can begin by a(hin3g back the buds, so that thj tink will get stocky and thrifty. Al) it 'trees do better for this early nhing back, and if it Is systemati Lly folloi,ed there will be little act i pruning required later. Severn -uning Is intended chiefly for un aned trees, and as a result they ver quite get the growth that they iold. When first ordered from thi rsery fruit trees used to be trimmne ik by cutting off their heads and ngest branches. This tends to stari iot growth more than if unpruned be main thiing is to get the roots wel: tablished after transplanting, and rerything else must be sacrificed t< ds if necessary. However, trees tha: "e properly planted, and with the iots uninjured, should quickly estab sh root growth, and become thrift: ttheir development. After that the: ed careful pruning twice a year his should take place in the fall and ring. The work performed twice ar will consequently be so small tha , great harm will be done to the trees evere pruning at one time certainl: tjures the growth of any tree. Let i e done by degrees. Shape the tree s< iat t will have a good fcrm and a ful ed, with the inside not too full o: mnches that will prevent the sunligh ad air reaching every part of it. IL pple trees the tendency is for the e spreading branches to be too low~ his Is not wise, fcr the reason tha ue trunks then never get the air whic1 iey need. Let the lowest branches b< respectable distance above th< round, fully as high as the top of thi ead, and then let them spread and fi at. Keep the top a little above th< des, but not tco high, and guar< ~ainst a tall, spindling tree whic1 akes hard picking and poor produc ug. -S. W. Ctambers, in America, ultivator. A "Boa Constrictor." A young lady was walking in thi ue du Flandrc when the wind blev e end of her boa into the wheel o passing cab. The result was tha e end of the boa became entangle< the spoke of the wheel, and th udy was thrown to the ground an< early strangled. She was taken tI e hospital with a fractured jaw ani broken armn.-London Express's Pari elegram. Norway sends to England 130,001 >ns of lee a yeaz'. Good ltcads Pay Their Way. NE paragraph in that part of thQ (overnor's nessage which reiItes to good roads is of es pecial con ideration because of its very general iutercst and applica tion. It is estimated, he says, that in forty ecunties in Indiana-a good broad basis for computation, as that is nearly the whole number of counties in South Carolina-the average increase in the "selling price" of land, due to exist i-g im:provcd icad, is ai:no.L $6.50 an acre ($G.4S, to be exact). The estimated average cost of couverting common public roads. into improved roads is $1146 a mile. The estimated average annual loso to a hundre, .cres from poor roads-due to added expense of hauling only half loads over them, breakage and wear and tear of vi clcs, loss of time, etc.-is $7, or seven ty-six cents an acre. "It is seen that the loss from poor roads wculd soon pay for the building of good roads, and after replacing the amount paid for their construction the gocd roads will continue to pay." The calculation may be varied a lit tie. A good road will steadily and ef fectively serve a tract of country for a mile on each side of it, and as there are 640 acres to the square mile, it fol lows that one mIile of good road will serve 12S0 acres on each side within the nile limit. It follows ::gain t-iat an expenditure of $1 an acre for each acre so to be benefited will more than pay the cost ( 1146) of improving a bad road into so expensive a good one as the kind constructed in Indiana. It is also to be noted that seventy-five cents of the dollar so expended is offset by the saving of the "loss" for- one year on account of bad road conditions, leav ing the net cost of the improvement to the land owners only twenty-five cents an acre in fact. This expenditure is practically made but once, the an I nual cost of maintenance being rela tively very small. Wherefore, the im proved road will nearly pay the whole cost of its construction in one year, and thereafter will continue to return seventy-five cents an acre annually in the single item of saving the loss resulting from bad roads. To which gain Is to be added all the conveniences of good road service, and the increase of $6.50 in the value of every acre trib utary to the road, as determined by its increased selling price. Four per cent. Interest for one year on the increased value alone of the two square miles or one per cent a year for the four years, would pay the whole cost of the improvement. The calculation Is subject to. some modifications to adapt it to thIs State, and to different parts of the State. It will apply closely in districts where rot ds are Improved on the system and at the high rate of cost observed ini Inidiana; but may be greatly changed in t?he case of other districts, espe clally; for example, these lying south and east of. Columbia. Good roa<}s equal to turnpikes have been constructed in Darlington, Rich land and Orangeburg Counties by overlaying sand with clay at a cost ranging down to $50 a mile, and per haps averaging less than $300 a mile. Darlington alone has constructed over 700 miles of such roads In the last five years, and Richland several hundred more at a cost,'we believe, higher than that average. Placing the average at $300 a mile, however, for such con struction, It follows that every mile of bad road in more than half the State can be Improved into a permanent thor oughly good road at a cost of $300 for the 1280 acres within a mile on either side of It, or of twenty-three cents an acre-against which single expenditure would be charged nearly the whole an nual saving of loss on account of bad road conditions and whatever increase in land values frould result from such improvement. And even the whole twenty-three cents an acre would rep resent a tax cf cnly two and one-half cents per acre for ten years-not a very -heavy burden. Extending the area to be taxed would, of course, reduce the tax rate proportionately. SIt really appears that land owners, farmers and the public generally could Swell afford to submit to such a tax Sfor the sake of the great and valuable public benefits to be derived from it at once and for all time to come.-Charles tcn (S. C.) News and Ccurier. Gravel Boads. Gravel roads can be built in many Sways. The best Is made from grave) Sthat has been screened and placed In a p repared roadbed, similar to that used for macadam roads, with the larget Sstone at the bottom, and the smallet size used on top for a binder. Exclude Sstones that are too large. SWhere the gravel is not good enough to pay for screening, a good road can -be built by placing the gravel on the 1road in two layers. These layers must be thoroughly harrowed . and rolled with a two-ton sectional roller until thoroughly consolidated and firm. SWith some varieties of gravel a good road can be built without the use of the roller, allowing the travel to con -oidt the gravel. The wheel tracks mr.st be continually filled in by a roadl Smachine, or by hand with a hoe. In all cases prepare the foundation in a sim ilar manner as the foundation for a macadam road. SA constant and continuous system of repairs should be adopted on this class of roads as well as on macadam roads. And lie Was Stone-Uroke. I am hui:d;n;," the pensive maiden said, "A c:.stle in the air." And what is in the co:ncrstone?'" he asked.. She answered: "A so:itaire." -Smart Set. In No Doubt Abutt the rrice. "How do you know whether that's errapia or muskrat you're eating''" "I don't. All I krow is that I'm pay ng for terrapin."--Chiago Tribune. Ala%! First Man-"She is a most lcvable Seccnd :Ian-"Isn't she? Just the :ind that ycu never fall in love with." -Detroit Free Press. Proved. Strawber - "Monkton says he fol owed your advice about speculating, ind lost 4OOO by it." Singc"Iy-"Did he? Well, I always new he was a chump."-Detroit Free ress. In a Hurry. "I regret to say, sir, that your little .aughter has been run over by an au- ,' tomobile." "Where is the villain that c.id it?" "Ke cor.:dn't wait, as he had several mpor;ant social engagementz."-De troit Free Press. Not Conclcsive. Fc-"I suppose you know I'm sin :Ig at your church now?" She-"No, I di'in't." He-"But surely your brcth;er Jae told you I had joined thc choir there." She-"Oh, yes; he did tell :ne that." hiladelphia Press. Not to His Advantaze. "Huh:" grumblel Mr. Ski:nay, A was being uncomfortably crowded by the jolly looking fat nan, "these car3 should charge by weight." "Think so?" rep!icd the fat man. "W:y, they'd har.ly thin' it worth while to stop for you."-Catholic Stand ard and Timcs. Trade Craft. "We are turni:ig cut some very elab orate scales," saId the agent. "Some that will attract t-Le attention cf your customers." "Do you suppose I want my custom ers to watch the scales?" asked the surprised butcher. "Give me the plain est style you have."-Chicago News. A Good Leason For It. "Why do you weep, my little man?' "Eo-hco! I've forgot what I'm.cry ing about! Boo-hao!" - NewI York. News. Unromantic. "He has called every evening for the last two wee'ks," said the fair girL. "Indeed!" said Miss Cayenne. "Do you thmnk he truly lovcs me?" "Well, it is not alway:: casy to deter mine whether a young man goes out' calling because he likes the company, or because his own roon Is chilly."- - Washington Star. An Improved Neighborhood. Mrs. Uppish-"Just think, it's ony six months ago since we moved away from next door to you. We're~ in a. much better neighborhood now." Mrs. Sharpe-"So are we." Mrs. Up-pish-"Why, where did you move?" Mrs. Sharpe-"Oh, we haven't moved at all."-Philadelphia Press. No Question About It. Clare-"who is the greater fool, man or woman?" Fred-"Why man, of course." .Clare-"I'm surprised to hear you ad mit It." Fred-"Well, it's the truth. Not con tent wit'h his own trou~blcs he has to find some woman and shoulder hers, too."-Chelsea (Mass.) Gazette. 'Almost Discouraging. "We are going to have a number of beautiful libraries," said the happy "Yes," answered the gaunt person with the lustrous eye. "It is a terrible responsibility to tut upon this genera tion. I don't know who is going to write the books worthy cf such -nag nificent surroundings." - Washington. An Unanswerable Araument. "Before mother camne," tearfully said Mrs. Newliwed, "you promised me you would do all you could to make her stay pleasant, and instead you insulted her by staying away from the house all the time she was here." "Well, let us reason the case a little it," said Newliwed. "Your mother doesn't like me a bit, does she?" "No-o," admitted Mrs. Newliwed re luctantly. "And when you don't like a person you don't want to be around them any more than you have to, do you~?" "Well, then, don't you think I did all that I possibly coull to make her visit nens anoet-Tnldnnaol18 Sun.*