University of South Carolina Libraries
An Orphan Boy. Stay, lady, stay, for mercy's sake, And hear a helpless orphan's talc. Ah! suro my looks must pity wake; Tis want that makes my cheek so pale. Yet I was once a mother's pride. And my brave father's hope and joy; But in the Nile's proud tight he died, And I am now an orphan boy. Poor, foolish child ! how pleased was I. When news of Nelson's victory came! AIour the crowded streets to fly. And seethe lighted window's tlame. To force me home my mother sought, She could not bear to see my Joy. + k foM.nr'c Ufa 'turns hmicht. And mad/me a |?oor orphan boy 7 The people's shouts were long and loud; My mother, shuddering, closed her ears. "Rejoice! rejoice!" still cried thocrowd; .My mother answered with her tears. "Why arc you crying thus," said I, "While others laugh and shout for joy ?" She kissed me, and with such a sigh, .She called me her poor orphan boy. "What is an orphan boy?" I criod, As in her face I looked and smiled; My mother, through her tears, replied: "You'll know too soon, ill-fated child." And now they've tolled ray mother's knell, And I'm no more a parent's .joy; U. may, I nave je.-iriifu wu ?cu What 'tis to be an orphan boy! [Omclia Opie. 4^4 The Leakage of Cliurclics. Leakage is a term used with refer. t'lice to the loss of liquids from vessels that are not water tight, and, in a commercial sense, it describes a cer- , tain rate per cent, for such waste. We use it now in relation to church shrinkage, and how appropriate the term is in this application will be fiv tli a fnnts which siltrcest the use. While large additions are made to many of our churches the aggregate of numbers in the multitude of cases show but little change; the supply of new members is barely sufficient to supply deficiencies by losses from relapses, in many instances. In this state of things the London 1 Freeman suggests that, "If, instead of wondering how to reach the masses, we first solved the problem of how to retain those we have gained, we should accomplish a task that would amply repay the time and trouble spent on it. It is a startling fact that the youths of our land, on whom the best efforts of our best Christian men have been expended, aud who constitute the future hope of our nation, are allowed to drift out of our Sabbath sciioois ana seeK compiuiiunsnip wu congenial pursuits among associations that tend to irreverence and sin. Nobody asks why they left or where they have gone, and thus multitudes of our 1 young men?having no strong ties to 1 bind them to the church of their boy- i hood, and having received imperfect 1 ideas of some of the main features ot 1 Christianity, are to be found in every ' town and village composing a large ! proportion of the population. Thede- i sertion of our young men is largely owing to the absence of any attraction < for them in connexion with the Church." 1 These remarks, however, apply more 1 to the congregation than to the Church. ! T% -X XI. _ J * - r n -> I Jt?UC lue sau taut cuuuuuis us mat an alarming process of shrinkage is constantly going on in the membership of many of our churches, the causes of which demand serious thought, the correction of which calls for special effort. To keep a church in tact and hold in firm allegiance new accessions to its membership is a problem very difficult to solve. To a faithful pastor few things occasion greater anxiety than the relapse of converts, and the loss of so much of the fruits of his labors is one of the saddest reflections ' forced upon a review of ministerial I service. ! To avert this leakage should be the aim not only of the pastor, but of the entire church. Pulpit counsels and pastoral visitations are not sufficient. What is needed is more "mutual watch-care," a closer sympathy, a ] more intimate fellowship, and a con- < stant interchange of those Christian i courtesies which are adapted to quick- ] en holy affections, kindle religious i zeal, and hold in stronger bonds of j unity all who belong to the same : household of faith.?Bajitifit Weekly. + Lost Opportunities. i A gentle, gracious old lady of seventy lately told the following incident to j her grand-children. We give, as near- : ly as possible, her own words : i "I drove out one day. when I was a youug girl, to the Park. Some trifle had occurred to irritate me: a disap pointment, probably, about a dress or . - a hat. I left the carriage and bidding the coachman drive on, sat do\vn on a bench near the river. "Some children were playing under the trees; their nurses looking on. I remember that their noise annoyed me and that I tried to control my own illhumor. But, I thought, why should I not be ill-humored if I chose? I was alone; it could harm nobody. "A man stood near me, leaning against a tree. He attracted my attention because his clothes were of fine quality, though worn and ragged. There was something about his air and manner, too, which betokened gentle breeding. He turned and saw nie looking at him, and, apparently following a sudden impulse, came upand a>ked me for work. "I was not frightened, for his man ner was perfectly respectful, but I was angry .it being annoyed by a stranger. " 'What work could I have for you ?' I said. " 'That is true.' lie bowed aud turned away. I sat by the river for a while, and then went to meet the carriage which was returning. "The man again stopped me. 'You are young,' he said. 'You ought to have more mercy than the world. I am a very wretched man. If you would use your influence, could you not get me work V utt:.. : ? pen T 111nrrht IIIS VUlt'C Was SU uuaiov A he had been drinking. I hurried on, without speaking. The coachman threatened him with his whip, seeing that I was annoyed. I went home, but the man's pale face haunted me all that night. "The uext morning, my father read from the paper, 'The body of a man was found last night in the river above the dam. It proved to be that of a Virginian named Hall, who had been struggling with poverty and ill-health in the city, for months.' "He had been starving the day before, had applied for work to every man he met. His last appeal was to me. A kind word from me would have saved him. "It was a terrible lesson. Fifty years have passed since then, but even now I wake at night with that man's face before me." The consequences of our careless neglect of the poor are not often brought home to us in such a way. Yet we may be certain that every time we turn away from a needy brother, we leave him to evil influences which we might have changed into good ones. Every beggar, every'creature hurt or hungry in body or soul that comes in our path, is an opportunity given to us by God to make ourselves like the Master in His compassion and kind uess. "Inasmuch," the Saviour tells us, "as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me." The Comfort of Hope. He who shows mercy to another remembers himself. To be pitiful is to lie thoughtful. Those who are in the full tide of health cannot easily think what it really is to be worn with unrelieved paiu and disease. Those in whose happy homes there seem to be the perpetual festival of comfort and the sweetest friendships can hardly imagine what it is to have the home broken up, and to be outcast and alone. The infinite comfort which there is in Christ's love and presence and friendship is due in part to the infinite thoughtfulness of His love. "If it were not so," said Jesus to his disciples. "I would have told you." What is it that he would have so surely told them, "if it were not so." This, that in God's home, in the home of the Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, there is abundant room; that TTf_ A Ax mere is mis own piepuicu piroc im jacli one; and that this home, assured to every disciple, is no mere guesthouse for a night or a day, but a home that has the element of permanence? that is, an abiding place. The need of that "perpetual vision 3f a better world," whose light shines through the darkness of the present life, is not a need for a few here and there, but a necessity for every one and everywhere. "If it were not so, I would have told you." The reasons, then, are obvious enough why we, too, should tell of it, that all may know it. [ Congregational Magazine. Dress and Manners. The Examiner well puts it: "Refinement of manners, neatness in dress, jareful observance of all the social nmenitie.H are important elements in pastoral success. Neglect of them often turns the scale against a really capable and worthy man. 'Dress does not make the man,' said r? distinguished preacher, 'but when he is made he looks a great deal better if well dressed.' The remark has a wider application than to mere apparel. A strong man is stronger for being a thorough gentleman. A good man is better, and his goodness is more highly appreciated, if he is attentive to those minor virtues which refine and beautify the life. Coarseness, shabbiness, vulgarity, in greater or less degree, may co-exist with great moral and intellectual power; but by so much as they exist they narrow the range of influence by repelling those whom a more gracious manner might win. And they are an element of weakness even when apparently overlooked. Everyone likes his pastor to appear to the best advantage, and is pained at evidences of indifference to personal appearance or the rules of good breeding. It behooves the pastor, therefore, to cultivate the lesser as well as the greater graces of life, and without giv-l ing undue heed to (lie outward man, to endeavor to offend no one l>y negligence in dress, or 'conduct unbecoming a gentleman.' " Emerson declared, forty years ago, that what hold the popular faith had upon the people was "gone or going." He asked why we should drag the dead weight of the Sunday-school over flic glohe?and lived to see 1iis own daughter holding a Sunday-school for little Arah children on the Nile. . A SuggestiYC Incident. The following narration may suggest to some of our readers simple ways in which they may substantially aid and cheer young men and young wemeu who are preparing themselves for labor in the vineyard of the Lord as physicians and ministers. "I went a thousand miles from home," said Dr. M., "to attend a theological school. I had earned and laid aside nearly money enough to pay my expenses, and had promise of assistant pastoral work sufficient to make up any probable deficienc}'. In the middle of my second year the strain on me became very great, and I was seized with congestion of the brain and taken to the hospital. There I stayed several days, and received excellent care. When I went back to the bare walls of my little cell in the seminary, they looked cheerless enough. I had not dared to write to ray parents of ray illness ; they could do nothing for me, and the knowledge that I was ill would only distress them, and do no good to them or me. "Having taken only liquid food during my illness, I became, of course, reduced in flesh and strength, and on my recovery needed nourishing and appetizing food. But restaurant fare I could not relish. After a few mouthfuls I could eat no more, and left the table hungry. I knew just what would be served at my boarding or meal-taking house, and that knowledge took away my appetite. My physician at last advised me to give up my studies for the remainder of the year, and go home and rest and' build myself up, and begin again another year. "This advice depressed me greatly. I should, if I took it, be put back a whole year. Just at this dark hour a young man of my acquaintance, having missed me from Sunday-school the day before, and learning I was sick, came to see me. " 'I'm going to take you home with me,' said he. 'You need an outing. Mother will be glad to see you.' 'I went with him. He took me to his room, and after giving me a vigorous rubbing and pinching, which left all my muscles in a glow, he left me in his bed to sleep for an hour. When I awoke, refreshed, and joined the cheerful family circle,* my depression was gone. It was delightful to be in a home once more. Soon the six o'clock dinner was served. "What an appetite I had! How good every thing tasted! How pleasant it was to be in the inner circle of family life once more! "That was the turning-point for me. I began to get better; my appetite came back, my strength returned, I resumed my work, and finished my course without interruption. To that family circle I became a privileged visitor, and the thought that there was one place in the great city where I could for a little time be at homeonly those who have been strangers can know what it was to me." The Door Unlocked. Some time since I wished to enter a strange church with a minister, a little before the time for service. We produced a key, but tried in vain to unlock the outside door with it. We concluded we had the wrong key, and sent to the janitor for the right one. But he came and told us that the door was already unlocked. All we had to do was to push and the door would open. We thought ourselves locked out, when there was nothing to hinder us from entering. In the same way we fail to enter into love uid fellowship with God. The door, we think, is locked against us. We try to fit some key of extraordinary faith to open it. We trjr to get our minds wrought up to some high pitch of feeling. We say, "I have the wrong key; I must feel more sorry; I must weep more." And all the time the door is ready to open, if we but come boldly, with humble earnestness, to the throne of grace. We may enter freely at once, without having to un locK Hie Cloor. jurist is uie uuor, aim his heart is not shut against us. We must enter without stopping to fit our key of studied faith, for his inercy is not locked up. We must enter boldly, trustingly, not doubting his readiness to receive us, "just as wo are." He is willing already, and we must not stop to make him willing by our prayers or tears. "I Only Want You." Nearly four years ago, I was going to sjH-iid the day in a large city. Before alanine i sum 10 my near nivaiiu | tor, who is now in glory, satisfied with | the fulness of her Father's house, "Can j I buy anything for you, dear? 1 doi want so much to bring you something from town." She interrupted my question, snying with such a sweet, yearning look, "Nothing, dear. Don't bring anything. I only want you. Come home as soon as you can." Her tender words rang in mv ears all day : "I only want you and O, how often, since her bright entrance within the pearly gates, have her touching words and loving look returned to memory! Well, dear reader, is not this, too, what a dear sweet Saviour says to you ? i Do you not want sometimes, to offer prayers, tears, almsgiving, deeds of kindness, sacrifices, earnest service, and patient endeavor? But he, too, turns from all, and says, "I only want you." "My son, my daughter, give me thine heart." No amount of service can satisfy the love which claims only the heart. "Lovest thou me?" was his thrice repeated question to his erring disciple. "He that loveth me shall be loved by my Father." (John 14; 21.) Devotion of life, earnestness of I service, fervent prayers, are only acceptable to him as fruits of love. They are valueless without the heart. He say9 to each of us, as my sainted sister said to me, "I only want you." Speaking of the great loss of life in the Paris theater an important daily says: "That was a pathetic scene, for those were pleasure-seekers, who had gone for a few hours to find relaxation from the insipid joys or relief from the carking cares of life." It was indeed a pathetic sceue. We pity them all. But to one expression fn the words quoted serious objection is to be taken. Life has carking cares, but is it proper to characterize its ordinary joys as insipid? The ordinary joys of lifo to those in health of body and mind can never be insipid. Like the wholesome food on which men live, they are satisfying. Only drunkards on alcohol or other unnatural excitants find them otherwise, and they because they are accustomed to artificial stimulants. One of the evils of much theater-going is that it tends to make life's ordinary joys insipid. We once heard a young lady, bred in luxury, say to a friend, that she got through the day with a novel, in the hope that somebody would come in to take her to the theater in the evening. [New York Christian jldvocate. Having gone through the painful process in my own mind, a process continued through years of anxiety, I am bound to acknowledge that I can find no rest to my soul, no satisfactory conclusion, which, as a professed disciple of Christ, I dare adopt but that all war Is inconsistent with the nature and spirit of the Christian religion. I can not make any war, even that which men have been in the habit of deeming the most justifiable, compatible with the genius and principles of the gospel. The individuals acting on offensive war must exert themselves to kill, burn, and destroy. Those who carry on defensive war must act in the same manner. As a disciple of Christ I am brought to that most important question, can I, for any earthly consideration, take away the life of a fellow creature in order to preserve my own property or life? When I endeavor to '* ^ 5? n ;-Li put tne question as m uiesiguu ui *jruu, I feel that the spirit of Christianity, the example of its blessed Author, his wondrous act of stupendous love, in dying for his enemies, will not permit it. [John Pye Smith. The Crowd Who Pass Us. You cannot read the lot of those who daily pass by you in tifie street. How do you know the wild romances of their lives?the trials, the temptations they are even now enduring, resisting, sinking under? You may be elbowed one instant by the girl desperate in her abandonment, laughing in mad merriment with her outward gesture, while her soul is longing for the rest of the dead, and bringiug itself to think of 1 ^ nSi'At* nu tlm ATI 1 \7 111Af lilt? I'UlUMlUWliig in ci ao iuv v?ai*j uivi cy of God remaining to her here. You may pass the criminal meditating crimes at which you will to-morrow shudder with borrow as you read them. You may push against one humble aud unnoticed, the last upon earth, who in heaven will forever he in the immediate light of God's countenance. Errands of mercy?errands of sin?did you ever think where all the thousands of people you daily meet are hound ? Christians seem to engage in warfare u]K)ii the principle of doing evil that good may come; for Christians admit that war is an evil. "But may ye not meet the enemy to preserve our homes and our government from violence and OJJ Wim itiiolf it: vinlnnp** UUMI Ul'Limi ; IT ui uovu 1? ? 4W.V..V? and destruction. "But war saved our homes and our government in the rebellion." But war did not save our neighbor*' homes; and what does our King say ? " Thou, shall love thy neigh, bur as thyself.1 [Daniel Hill, Editor of the M<sscngcr of 1'cacc. War is the greatest evil of evils that we can conceive to he remedied. It attacks all classes of society and all ages, j It attacks them with no insidious wenpIoils and under no disguise, hut with i ottcu ru:>ssacre, starvation, and ruin?a mischief from which no ??rn? is safe; which threatens every man's life und every man's children's lives. I thoroughly detest all war, believing it t?? Ik.- liarliarism, at once irrational an<l cruel, of which the common sense of the nineteenth century otiirht to lie i heartily ashamed. What Others Say. (J. H.) It is no cause of wonder that people are getting their eyes open to see that there are better methods than war for the settlement of international disputes. The wonder is that they did not wake up sooner. War is so irrational, even if it were not criminal, so utterly inadequate to settle disputes upon principles of right and justice, that it would seem that ouly irrational beings would resort to it. Wild animals who are incapable of reason, settle their quarrels by brute force. Then the sharpest claws and the strongest muscles prevail, and the | weaker are vanquished. This settles only the quest ion of might, not of right. God has given man, as he has not the lower animals, the faculty of reason and argument, and a sense of justice and right, by which questions can lie determined upon the principle of right, without any regard to the physical strength of the contending parties. Man degrades himself and dishonors God, when he drops down to the level of the brute in trying to settle disputes. (S. S. Times.) Neither the wisdom nor the folly of to-day is utterly new. When one sees the young scrapegrace of our times livino" hv his wits, manacincr in one wav and another to obtain money enough to dress more showily and to feast more sumptuously thau his honest and hardworking neighbors, one is tempted to believe that this creature is a modern invention. But when one turns back to the record of two thousand years ago, he finds evidence of the same sort of person attracting attention and winning contempt in those days. "Be not made a beggar by banqueting upon borrowing, when thou hast nothing in , thy purse; for [by so doing] thou shalt lie in wait for thine own life, and be tnllroH nn " iu thf> wisp man's nnnnsel in Ecclesiasticus. And so it would seem that fools and wise men have borne much the same relation to each other in , all the ages. (S. 8. Times.) Frankness in manner and in speech ' is winsome or is disagreeable, is right or is wrong, according to the spirit which prompts it. Frankness may be a result of one's egotism, or even of one's hatefulness ; or, again, it may be a result of ' one's unsuspicious trustfulness. A per- ' son may be free and outspoken through thinking only of himself; or through ' an unkind readiness to tell another of his faults and lack. That kind of J fraukness is never pleasing to* others. But a person may be frank to another through his forgetfulness of himself, and through his readiness to speak ; without fear or reserve to the one who 1 commands his fullest confidence. That 1 kind of frankness hardly ever fails of 1 being attractive. It is not enough for ] you to know that you are frank and i outspoken, the real question is, Are you commendably, or objectionably frank ? ; (Tayler Lew is.) i No, this gospel is not adapted to the , nineteenth century. It wasn't adapted to any century. It wasn't intended to be. It was intended that the nineteenth century should be adapted to the gospel. Your work is not to make the truths of the Bible fit into all the crooks and crevices of the lives and beliefs of men. You are to stamp, not overlay; to coin, not gild. You are to apply the teachings of Christ with such force to hearts and lives of men that their hearts will ever after bear the impress of the image of Jesus Christ, and their lives l>e conformed to His will. There tire peculiarities of the times that will require special methods of delivering the truth, notspecial truth. You may J have to leave the pulpit and stand at the door, or 011 the street corner, in order to preach to men. But when you preach, preach the truth. (Thomas Chase.) "This evil, war, would not continue to exist in Christian communities a day or hour longer, if the good Christian men of every country were once to look at it iu its true light, and to recognize and acknowledge its monstrous criminality. I arraign the churches of Christendom, as guilty of all the crime and woe which the continuance of this barbarous iustitution entails upon the world." ? ? Vou felt "warmed up" while you were attending that protracted meeting. You were away from the annoyances of domestic duties and servants. How you did enjoy singing the precious old hymns, and the "altar-work!" Good so far; but, tested by the trials amid which you are to spend the rest of the year, your revival is "is weighed in the' ! balauee and found wanting," for il j I docs not make you patient and amiable | with servants and children. j The day is eominjr, T trust, when j | Christians will look hack with grati-j tudc and affectum on those mou, who, i j in ages of conflict and bloodshed, enlisted under the banner of philanthroI py and peace, cherished generous hopes jot" human improvement, withstood tlie t violence of eoiri'pt opinion, held forth j niniilst jivneral darkness the pure ami I mild light of Christianity, and tints I ushered in a new and peaceful era in ! the hi-tory of mankind. H 1 u? 1 II U M ? ' Hfll A Miner's Persistence. 9HH Canon "VVilberforce, whose recent R9 visit to this country was a source of hB good to many, was dwelling, in the HB course of one of his addresses, on the flj importance of the word "now," and HI related the following incident in point: SB A miner having heard the Gospel K9 preached, determined that, if the BH promised blessing of immediate salva- 9H tion were indeed true, he would not uMj leave the presence of the minister fli who was declaring it, until assured of B9 its possession by himself. He waited, jffl consequently, after the meeting to 8B speak with the minister, and, in his HQ untutored way, said : BB "Didn't ve sav I could have the blessing now?" "Yes, my Iriend," "Then pray with me, for I'm not goin' awa' wi'out it." And they did pray, these two men, wrestling in prayer until midnight, like Jacob at Peniel, until the wrestling miner heard the silent words of comfort and cheer. , "I've got it now!" cried the miner, his face reflecting the joy within; "I've got it now !" The next day a terrible accident occurred at the mines?one of those accidents which so frequently shock us with their horror merely in the reading of them. The same minister was called to the scene, and amoDg the men dead and dying was the quivering, almost breathless body of this man, who only the night before, big and brawny, came to him to know if salvation could really be had "now' for the asking. There was but a fleet ing momeut of recognition between the two, ere the miner's soul took flight, but in that moment he had time to say, in response to the minister's sympathy : "Oh, I don't mind, for I've got it? I've got it?it's mine." Then the name of this poor man went into the -list of "killed." There was no note made of the royal inheritance to which he had but a few hours befofo come into possession, through faith in Christ, and all by his believing grip of the word "now." Fair Assassins. I say to you, weighing my own words, that you should be less deprav- 9 ed, less savage, would less disgrace your womanhood, would be less a curse to your kind, and, if God is rightly revealed to us in His Word and His Son, would less offend Him by going to see dogs fight in their kennels at the Five Points, or bulls gore horses in Spain, than by putting on your bonnet and gloves and going from house to house in your neighborhood, assailing absent acquaintances, dribbling calumny, sowing suspicion, planting and watering wretchedness, stabbing character, alienating friends by repeating to one the detraction that you "heard" another has spoken. I beileve that before the judgment seat of Christ the prize-fighting man will stand no worse than the slanderously gossiping woman. [Bishop Huntingdon. Savannah VaUav Railroad SCHEDULE TO TAKE EFFECT SUNDAY JANDABT 1, 1S8S. Passenger, Freight and Mall?Anderson to MeCormlck. Daily?Run by 75th Meridian. Leave Anderson 6 00 a m 2 40 p ru " t Dean 0 81 am 311 put " Cook 7 00 a in S 40 p tit " Lowndesvllle 788am 418pm " Latimer 8 04 a in 4 44 p m" Hester S 23 a in 5 (# p in " Mt. Carniel 8 49 a m 5 29 p in " Willlnjrton 9 05 am 545 pm u Bordeaux 924 am 604 pm Arrive McCormick ID 00 am 6 40 p in Leave McCormick 10 10 a ra 6 00 p m ' Bordeoux 10 46 a m 6 36 p m " VTilllngton 11 05 a in 6 55 a m " Mt. Carmel 11 21 a m 7 11 am " Hester 1147 am 7 87 a m " Latimer 12 06 p in S 05 a m " Lowr.dcsville 12 37 pm S 37 a in " Cook 110 p m 9 10 a m " Dean 1 89 p in 9 37 a m Arrive Anderson 2 10 p in 10 10 am W. W. STARR, Superintendent. Port Royal and Augusta R'y. In Effect January 1, 18S8. Time?Meridian. Daily. Daily. Lv Augusta 9 45 am Lv Jncks'n\Te 9 00 pm Ar Beaufort 500 pm Lv savannah.. 6 4oam Ar Port Royal. 0 uo pm Lr Charleston. 7 30 am Ar Charleston. 6 20 pm Lv Port Royal. 7 00 am Ar Savannah.. 0 34 pm Lv Beaufort 7 12am Ar .Iacks'nvi'e 7 30 am Ar Augusta 115 pm accommodation* i accommodation* Lv Augusta 0 -15 nni Lv J'ort itoyai. 4 au am Ar Beaufort..... 5 30 pm Lv Beaufort -1 4Gan> Ar Port Royal. 5 45 pni.Ar Augusta 4 00 am Port Royal & Western Carolina R'y T.Vru Meridian Time. Nohth. Daily.} * ! Lv Augusta 7 Ml Qin1 8 10 nm 3 35 pm Ar Anderson 2 10 pm' ' Ar Greenwood 11 15 am 2 30 pm 8 30 pm Ar Laurens 12 30 pm 5 10 pm Ar Greenville 2 15 pm ' > 00 pm Ar Spartanburg 2 10 pm H 00 pint *Ar nend'rs'nvlllc C 3T> pm Ar Aslieviile 8 00 pin South. Dai i.v. * Lv Ashevillo. .. 7 oi) am ... Lv Hend'rs'iivllle s 40 am Lv Spartanburg... 3 ihi pin <? oo nm, Lv Greenville 'i 35 pm Lv Laurens I 33 pm i? no am Lv Greenwood .... 5 43 pin II _ni pm ii Wi am I.v Anderson 2 4ii pin ("> ?'? nm Ar Auvumh ! 30 pin "> II pm 11 lj am Daily,cxeept snnday. On Sunday?only one train on Anderson Branch, leaving Anderson 7 a. in., arriving at Mel'ormleklOu. in. KeUirning? leave'MeCormiek lo 20 a. m., arriving at Anderson 1 20 n. m. * Connection at Greenwood macieto andtrom all points cn Columbia and Greenville railroad. At Spartanburg with A. & C. Air Line. Close connections made to and from Charleston, iSnvaiinnli and Florida points; and by (Jeornia railroad trains for Atlanta and the West. \V. J. CRAIG. A. G. 1'. A. K. K. AN'UKKSON. Master Trains, w*. w. sr.viii:, supt.