University of South Carolina Libraries
fWEORL i the efl *5 ** By AURTHUF + % ?? ' Copyright. 1909, by American I ? ? * 4T *1 ?Y ? ? 4T Barrington was completing his first year of practice when Theodore Tuppenheim arrived in Knuckleville. Mr. Tuppenheim was selling stock in the Pharitahlf* ftnlrt Alinine comnanv at 5 cents per share, price to advance to 10 cents at the end of thirty days. Incidentally he found time to foster in Harrington's bosom >^he spirit of discontent which ten months' fruitless waiting for clients had engendered. If he were a clever, clean cut young man like Barrington, did Harrington know what he'd do? Move west. He wouldn't fritter away his time in a mossbacked New England hamlet where people looked down on a fellow just because they'd known him all his life and could remember when he was a little shaver and went with patches on his trousers. No, sir. He'd just gather together his earthly possessions and take the first train for Gilt Gulch, Nev. There was the coming town; there lay the opportunity for an able young man to rise. No reason in the world why he should not be in the United States senate within five years. That would be coming some? Well, everybody and everything came some in that country. Why sir. where the thriving city of Gilt Gulch now stood there had been less than two years since naught but sagebrush and alkali. And now look at it?just look at it! Six thousand inhabitants and more coming by every train! Simply couldn't get houses up fast enough for 'em. Had to camp out in tents. And every blamed one of 'em making money. Why, sir, you couldn't find a bootblack in Gilt Gulch who was worth less than fifty thousand! This vision of wealth and political prominence was quite too much for Harrington. He adjusted his affairs in Knuckleville, which was no very difficult matter, took tearful leave of numerous relatives and of a certain pretty damsel, who was not yet a relative, but had rashly promised to become one whenever Barrington's income should suffice for the support of two persons, ana mea nimseu 10 0111 Gulch, promising to send souvenir postcards from every municipality he passed through on the way. Xow, underneath the lurid exaggeration with which Mr. Theodore Tuppenheim had clothed his narrative of the rise of Gilt Gulch there lay a respectable substratum of truth, and the combination of Barrington's ingenious appearance with certain letters of introduction to persons financially prominent in Gilt Gulch, which Mr. Tuppenheim procured for him, resulted in his speedily establishing a thriving practice. For the most part it was work in connection with the location of mining claims, and, besides numerous fees in cash, Harrington acquired severaJ claims of his own, which he disposed of profitably. In brief, at the end of a year Barrington had waxed so prosperous as to feel himself warranted in marrying. The Knuekleville Weekly Times announced editorially that it understood that young Mr. Harrington, for whom its readers would remember, the Times had predicted a brilliant career when he hung out his shingle in Knuckleville. was now one of the leading men in the west, and the other village maidens were openly jealous of Susie Cutler, whose good fortune it was to be to marry a millionaire. But Susie herself had no illusions. She even refused to permit Barrington to come east for the marriage. Her childhood lessons of thrift and economy had taken deep root in her mind, and she would not, she said, have the price of a round trip railroad ticket thrown away. If Barrington felt that he must spend the money, let him buy a cabinet organ or a secondhand piano for the front parlor. They would be married in their own house at Gilt Gulch and after that take a little wedding trip to Colorado Springs or maybe Denver. Perhaps, being a prudent damsel, Susie desired to have a glance at Gilt Gulch before she committed herself irrevocably. At any rate, matters hud been thus arranged, and. the date set for the wedding being but two days away and Susie due to arrive that afternoon, Barrington was in the state onn??nnrint/? tr\ ciir?h firfMim stances. It was in this moment of supreme happiness that misfortune befell him. The work Barrington had been doing requires to be performed with great accuracy; otherwise it is not only valueless, but may be the occasion of great loss to the client. Now, it is possible that Barrington possessed genius. People who have that, you know, are apt to be careless as to details. Perhaps it was merely that, being deeply in love, he could not concentrate his mind upon his work. However that may be, Hartford, the attorney whose office was next to Barrington's, had discovered in the course of an investigation of the records that Barrington had filed documents containing serious errors. He spoke to Barrington about it in a perfectly friendly Barrington received his kindly admonitions with a contempt which he was at no pains to disguise. Why should he pay heed to the remarks of a man who wore baggy trousers and played faro. 10 say noming of becoming intoxicated now and then? He knew well enough what inspired these critical observations. Hartford was jealous of the prosperity which Harrington had so rapidly achieved. Is't him stop caviling, said the virtuous Harrington to himself, and seek success by leading a sober life, as he did. Feeling that he had been insulted, Harrington thereafter confined his communications with Hartford to a curt "How are you?" accompanied by a barely perceptible nod when they chanced to meet. It was with a good deal of surprise, therefore, that Hartford. glancing up from his rather dilapidated desk a.<* he heard the door open, perceived Harrington entering his office. One had not to look tit Harrington twice to be convinced that he was badiy frightened. His eyes w hich ordinarily regarded those about him with an air of easy toleration, were wide with terror, and his well chiseled features, customarily wearing an air of placid conceit, were now white and drawn. His manner toward Hartford was 110 longer supercilious. : AW AW AH AH AH AH AH AH AH AH tl FROM l; ETE EASTS: *1" iDENSMOKE. t? j ?- ; Press Association. 2^ AT AT AT AT AT AT AT AT AT AT ? All his carefully constructed attitude s] of dignity had vanished. "You've been in this part of the b country longer that I have. Hartford," t, said he. "I want your advice as a? b friend, you know." 11 Hartford nodded and withdrew his n pipe from his lips. a "Sure," said he succinctly. "What's f? Ha "Why, you see," said Barrington, ft "it seems that in filing the papers for b; Jim Busby on that last mining claim ai of his I made a slight error. I have e) been doing a large business, you know, K, Hartford?a very large business?and di it was inevitable that I should make s( a mistake occasionally. It seems that 0| some unscrupulous persons have ta- \\ ken advantage of this purely techni- rt cal slip and have jumped Busby's claim, and he is very much exercised C( about it." ? "I should think he might be," Hartford observed. in "Yes," repeated Barrington, "he is much exercised and quite unreason- hi able about it. He came into my of- g< flee a few moments ago and demanded an explanation. Of course 1 couldn't te'l him anything except that it was tl just a mistake such as any man might make, and he said I was lying to him. ei He said I was too smart to make a in fool break like that and that I was in v< with the gang that were trying to do fa him out of a claim that would have it made him rich. I argued with y< him the best I could. but it ki didn't budge him. He said he didn't see that it made much difference fii whether I was a fool or a knave, be- B cause either way I hadn't any right w to live and he wound up by saying ti that he'd just go down to the Jolly hi Dog and get a few drinks to put him in in the right frame of mind and then he'd come back and reduce the mem- ly bership of the Gilt Gulch bar by one." It is significant of Hartford's broad C? and tolerant temperament that he did le not remind Harrington that he had n< previously predicted such a catastro- m phe as had now befallen. Nevertheless a slight glimmer of amusement ol stole across his face. of "So you want my advice, do you?" di he asked. ti ' I should appreciate it very much," hi said Harrington. si "Well, you shall have it," said Hartford laconically, rapping the bowl of ti his pipe against the heel of his shoe. "If Jim Busby were out gunning for ri me and I couldn't shoot any better B than you can, and I had a comfor- rj table little sum saved, as you have, t and there were a pretty girl in New to England who didn't know any better e< than to love me, as she does you, I'd te go east on the half past two train, and I wouldn't hurry back. "But the trouble is," Barrington explained, "Susie?Miss Cutler, that is h ?will be here on the train that gets t in at 2.50. The trains pass on the first siding out. you know. The fact is we n, are to be married day after tomorrow at noon. You'll pardon my omitting to send you an invitation, won't you? ^ It was quite unintentional. I've been ^ so busy"? jt "Oh," Hartford broke in, with a h deprecatory wave of his arm. "you c,| need not apologize. It's just one of s] those little mistakes a busy man is al bound to make every now and then. ft I haven't Busby's disposition. I'll for- a) give you." it Then Hartford looked at his watch and found that it was twenty minutes c< past two. le "You'll have to move lively, my 1: boy," he said. "Keep an eye open for d< Jim. and if the coast is clear take tho bi 2.30. If it isn't walk over to Sand n City and take the next one there." w "But about Susie." Harrington re- st monstrated. d; "Pshaw!" growled Hartford. "That's w easy enough. Leave a note for her d' with the station master, telling her to 1 go back to Colorado Springs and you'll al meet her there. If you don't have time to write a note, have the station mas- w ter tell her you've been called away on a life and death matter and that a she's to go to the hotel and wait until you send her word. She'll prefer s: a slightly delayed wedding to an ex- al pedited funeral. Hurry up now. "I You've just about time to make it." 11 As he slipped down the main street it of Gilt Gulch on his way to the sta- ai tion Harrington caught a glimpse of s1 Jim Busby's gaunt profile as he stood L at the bar of the Jolly Dog, his back a toward the entrance. Harrington's in- >'i dolent heart rejoiced as he reflected 1' that the ten mile walk to Sand City K would now be unnecessary. It was ^ just twenty-eight minutes past two it when he reached the station. He gave s' the necessary instructions concerning Susie to the station master and rush- ti ed out upon the platform. Hut the a train which made up at Gilt Gulch w was not yet ready to depart. A freight a car had left the rails, blocking the a tf.wlr ?,.?? minulps tmss- tl ? <!, and still the obstruction remained, tl Harrington grew uneasy. Jim Busby n might at any moment deem that he p had imbibed a quantity of liquor com- a mensurate with his contemplated task h and begin to search for him. But at the end of twenty minutes, to his great f< relief, the perspiring train crew sue- tl ceeded in replacing the derailed car, b and the freight train pulled slowly out ti upon a siding. Even as it did so Bar- p rington caught sight of the 2.F>0 train as it rounded the curve just beyond h the station. n A moment later Susie Cutler, her 11 trim little figure set off by a skillful- 1 lv tailored gray traveling suit and her face wearing the look of determina- t( tion la fitting a girl wh< had just com- tpleted a journey nearly across the " continent alone, descended to the plat- '* form of ffUlt (Sulch station. Barring- '' ton rushed toward her joyfully. With- I' in three steps of her he encountered u an obstacle?a very serious obstacle. This was nothing less than the muz- '' zle of a revolver. Behind the revol- ** ver stood Mr. James Hushy. 'I "Now. young man." said Mr. Busby. 1 "we'll attend to your little matter, and ' we won't be long doing it." s Then Busby became suddenly conscious of a voice, evidently feminine, proceeding from some point in bis rear and of the light pressure of a 'I hand upon his arm. " "Do you know." said the voice, "it's j dreadfully careless of you pointing hat thiiiK at anybody so. Why, it light go off." Turning about, Busby looked into lie piquant features of Susie Cutler. Le, decided unhesitatingly that, notwithstanding some freckles and the ?ndency of the nose to turn up, it as a rather pleasing face to view. "So it might," said Busby slowly. So it might." "Well, then, stop aiming it .'.t Har? lr. Barrington," she commanded. You make mo nervous." "Fact is." said Busby, "I was sort f planning to shoot Mr. Barrington." He had lowered his weapon and poke very calmly and deliberately. "What!" shrieked the girl. "You ave the audacity to stand there and dl me you mean to commit a cold looded murder? Where are the poce? A splendid place this must be to ve in, where a man goes out to kill nother as coolly as he'd eat his breakist!" "That's the way with all you folks oin out Boston way," grumbled Busy. "You're always getting murder nd the administration of justice mix 3. 1 ain't going to murder him. I'm Ding to execute him. He's done me Irt, and if he ain't killed he'll do tmebody else dirt. So for the good f everybody he'd ought to be shot, .'hat do you care anyway? Ain't no dative of yourn, is he?" "Why, no," she answered in some mfusion, "he isn't a relative exactly -that is, he"? A gleam of comprehension shone i Busby's eyes. "Come to think of it," said he, "I eard something about his going to ?t married. Be you the girl?" She nodded. "Yes." she answered simply, "I'm te girl." "Then," said Busby, "it's clear lough to my mind that in interfea-ig with this execution you're pre?nting me front doing you a great ivor. Howsomever, if you stick to that you don't want him shot and if du'11 take him out of Nevada and eep him out"? The girl did not wait for him to rush, sne transterreu ner grasp irom usby's arm to that of Barrington, ho during the preceding conversa011 had stood silent, his face white, is limbs trembling, cold sweat beadig his forehead. "Come. Harry," she said imperiousMeekly, with bowed head and downist eyes, Barrington suffered her to ad him aboard the train, which was jw, the track being clear, about to ove eastward. Jim Busby sat down upon the edge ' the platform and burst into a roar ' laughter/ Long after the train had sappeared around the curve below le station the station master found im there, his broad shoulders still taking with merriment. "Well, you doddering idiot," said te station master, "what's the joke?" "Oh. ain't he going to get his all ght. though?" queried the mirthful usby. "Did you hear her 'Come Harr," him and snake him?aboard the rain like he'd been a puppy hitched ? a string? He got out of being exrnted. but he's getting a life sennce. and that's a whole lot worse." WIND OF 120 DAYS. low Men and Cattle Are Protected ^qainst Scourqe of the Middle East. The "Bad-i-sad-o-bist-roz," the faious wind of 120 days of Seistan, is le one feature of the country lying at ie junction of Persia, Afghanistan and eluchistan. This appalling wind u mi nates life from May to September. prevails over a stretch of country a 11 ndied miles wide and renders existice almost unbearable. It may vary igiitly from year to year in strength id duration, but invariably comes om north-northwest, 334 degrees west id 5 degrees on either side of that is s greatest variation. In quiet years the wind may not ex?od 65 miles an hour and is seldom ss than 40. In bad years it reaches .'0 miles an hour. The country is ominated by it. Houses have to he uilt with a strong wall on the northorthwest side, blank except for one indow, generally divided up into nail holes, which are stopped up with ubs of mud as the wind increases, and hich are removed as it falls. No garr>n ran ovist without its wind wall. ents have to be arranged as to trunks nd furniture. A table placed close enough to be it bin reach of the canvas walls as ley sway and sag to the blast wears hole in the canvas in a day or two, ten a walking stick or cane does the line by the mere friction of the end gainst the stout cloth. The surface f the land is profoundly modified by lis persistent force. Driving before great clouds of dust and gravel, it its as a perfect sand blast and detroys even the strongest buildings, oose baked brick take on an edge like saw witii deeply cut teeth. Walls at ght angles to its direction are comletely removed, and the ends left are round and pared away. "The wind of eistan wears away the walls of build?'? ?lo' ulii.Ot.mo U'nni'c nwfJV teel." From the summits of the low plateau lat abound in the country, especially t the commencement of the wind, hen frost has disintegrated the rock nd soil, drifts hundreds of yards long ml twenty feet deep are formed. Cate as well as men need shelter from le fierce north-northwester, the eneiy to life in the country. They are emied in chambers dug out of the soil nd roofed over for protection, a slopig ramp affording means of egress. Cattle and donkeys have pieces of It placed on their backs to protect lem. but sheep and goats, being much otter provided by nature with protecion against tin- wind, are herded in ens surrounded by a fence. Touching the speed of 12(? miles an our. it is interesting to note that 40 lilcs represents a gale. 60 miles a eavy storm and sa to 1"?0 miles a hurIcane sweeping everything before it. he wind of 120 days has every right > be classed with those better known lassie breezes dignified by special antes, tip. simoon, the sirocco, the soino. the harmattan. the puna winds of 'era. the mistral of Marseilles, the r o.\ M-tlte. it 1111 M-li r i>i Diini".- n.i i ..i ?... ....... illy <if west Australia. Tin* wind of li'o days is generally at. the desert of scorching furnace, eistiin is in the latitude of Cairo and )? temperature in the shade rises to IT. decrees. On tile sun setting the inperaturc falls rapidly sind in tinman hours of the morning a blanket ; welcome.?Singapore Free Press. - I......1 I \\ Mill (X> yi?ll IMIIIIV. < AI I<IIMX<< ie tlx ati ical star. proudly. "They arc "ins t" name a now cigar after inc." Well." n\j??ino<l the manager. "let us >>l>" it will draw better than you do." Kxchang". GIRLS' WRONGS. HI 1 road not long ago about The lights and wrongs of boys And how they never have a chance To make enough of noise. If those same boys were in my place <Jn music-lesson day. And had to make a noise by rule, 1 wonder what they'd say. I've very little fault to find With common Jolly boys: Their games are really extra fine. And I admire their noise. Hut they are very ignorant If they don't understand That girls have wrongs as well as boys, And snubs on every hand. I do not mean sweet little girls, r.tal l.ifT jum KIH r""UK" l?? l"l. Hut awkward, romping girls like me. Not quite young ladies yet. I tried to run about with boys A little once or twice; Hut soon I found my brothers thougnt That was not very nice. They said they'd like my company If 'twasn't for the looks; But girls were made to play with dolls And look at picture books. Now that was such a dreadful snub. I took a lengthy pout. And acted like a naughty girl I've not the slightest doubt. Whene'er I try to do my best. I show my greenness worse; And Aunt Jerusha Ann's remarks j Are more acute and terse. So when accomplished people call With all their polished airs, I beat a shy but sure retreat i'pon the garret stairs. I've always heard that going down Afforded poor relief: And so I try by going up ] To soar above my grief. 1 There r can hear the boys without. M Piping their merry songs; i Oh! how I long to be with them. With them forget my wrongs. ?Lifc.v R. Gregg. CASH. It's money here and money there, it's money all around; Whichever way a man may turn he hears that clinking sound. He goes into a dry goods store, and finds he has been rash; The clerk who waits on him is crying: "Cash! Here, cash, Oh, cash!" He goes upon the Board of Trade, and makes a little deal. Puts up his margin like a man, and thinks it's for his weal. The market goes this way and that; It moves as quick as Hash. And soon he hears his broker calling: "Cash! Oh, cash! More cash!" He tries his luck at buying stocks, and makes a careful plan That seems to give him every chance to die a wealthy man. The stocks go here, the stocks go there; they move with vim and dash, And in the end he hears with sorrow: "Cash! Poor cash! _ No cash!" He then decides that real estate is much more in his line; He buys a lot that's clear out West, and thinks his prospects fine. Thy town is pictured booming, but the A boom ends with a crash. And nothing's left but running taxes: "Cash! More cash! 2: Good cash!" At last he enters politics, and finds the cry the same: The call is still for money with which if to buy his fame, ^ And even when he hurries home, con- if vinced he has been rash, ^ His wife thus greets him most se- -if verel.v: ' "Cash! Q John, cash! More cash!" , a SILENCE IS GOLDEN. The man who speaks a dozen rngues, when all is said and done, Don't hold a match to him who knows how to keep still in one; 2( The talker gets some good things here, things much to be desired; 2t The silent man gets these and more, and doesn't make folk tired. 2. Oh. you can have life's good things brought right to you if you will; Throw out your chest, put on a frown, just keep still. The man who's known as "silvertongued" may fool folk for a spell; Some few may take him at his word, j believe all he may tell ' About himself for just a while; but soon he'll make a slip, And he'll be nicely put away, knocked out by his own lip. Oh, you'll get money in the bank and j sovereigns in your till. * If you'll put on a thoughtful look and just keep still. Full many men are dead and gone who died for want of breath. And many who while still on earth have talked themselves to death; More sharper than a serpent's tooth is man's own reckless tongue When hung inside an open face and all too loosely swung. Close up your face and ope your ears and drink in to your fill This sage advice: Throw out your 2'. chest and just keep still. ' In public life's few lower rounds are sonic who chew the rag. And some from dewy morn till night sail in and punch the bag 4; Because they like the sound of it: but list a while, you'll find The louder is the noise it makes the more it's tilled with wind. Be good and hush and you will gel a great reward, you will; Throw out your chest and smile, or frown?but just keep still. ?Exchange. PRACTICE VS. PREACHING. "It is easy to sit in the sunshine $: And talk to the man in the shade." It is easy to float in a well-trimmed $: boat. And point out the places to wade. But once we pass into the shadows w We murmur and fret and frown, j C And our length from the bank, we shout for a plank. or throw up our hands and go down. It is rusv to sit in vour enrrinare. Anrl counsel the man on foot; Hut get down and walk, and you'll change your talk. As you feel the peg in your boot. It is easy to tell the toiler How best he can carry his pack: lint no one can rate a burden's weight I'ntil it has been on his back. The up-curled mouth of pleasure ^ Can preach of sorrow's worth: Hut give it a sip. and a wrver lip Was never made on earth. ? Ella Wheeler Wilcox. HELPING ONE ANOTHER. < >f all the Joys which life affords. I'roni childhood's sunny morning I'ntil the paling western sky j of night's approach gives warning There's none that springs so swift and sure Delights less pure to smother, As that which thrills and warms the lii.n i*t When helping one .another. |H If days and night seem horn to lis |H To he consumed by sorrow, h| If hourly we have vainly craved A happier tomorrow. K If from ourselves we loving turn g?j To some pain-stricken brother, |g? The sorriest night finds dawning K bright M With helping one another. ?&> 'Tis selfish grief that deadliest clings. ??j And ('hristlike lessons heeding R?j We'll find life's devious, onward way Eg To .sunnier heights still leading: ^ Till when these bodies weak and worn, Be Have sought the common mother. Our souls more joyful sing and soar ffBBES I'm having helped each other. ' Millinery ? A T /* nn v> /] F\iri?\lf?TT iiiauu uispiaj i In introducing to you our M dently predict that this will be o of our RAPIDLY GROWING busines make this department attractrv vite you to come and see the 3EAUTIFUL DISPLAY II March 22d, 8.; ^ March 23rt We also take this opportur line of Silks, Wool Goods, C< Hats, Trunks, Bags and evei "NEW AND U Foulards and Silks. 11 the Newest Shades?Bought Way Under Regular Price and Priced Very Low TT> .1. c. o :?i rv*. 2 men rouiara oiik, worm ?opci-iai, vio, *aiw. i inch Foulard Silk, worth 50c?Special 39 Cts. Yard. 1 inch Black Taffeta Silk, worth $1?Special, 63 Cts. Yard. '?inch Black Taffeta Silk, guaranteed, worth $1.25?98 Cts. > inch Checked and Striped Taffeta, worth $1.25?At 98 ts. Yard. sW New Ones Arriving Daily. Rough Pongee and Japanese Silks. ') inch Dotted Japonica Silk?Special, 29 Cts. Yard. ) inch?All Colors, Plain?Special, 29 Cts. Yard. I inch Colored Suesine Silk?Special, 25 Cts. Yard. ' in. Plain and Figured Pongee Silk?Special, 48 Cts. Yd. Sale of Silk Ribbons Wednesday. 000 Yards of SILK RIBBONS?short lengths, from 5 to 10 yards?worth up to 25c and 35c a yard?All colors? SPECIAL 10 Cts. Yard. ooo Yards Ribbons?plain colors?worth ioc per yard? full pieces?SPECIAL 5 Cts. Yard. Embroideries. 000 yards Swiss Embroideries, Edgings and Insertions? Baby match sets?worth 15c to 30c yard SPECIAL 10 Cts. and 12 1-2 Cts. Yard. " inch Swiss Embroidery Flouncings?worth $i per yard? SPECIAL 63 Cts. Yard. Bands to Match. ; inch Swiss Embroidery Flouncings?worth $1.25 per yard?SPECIAL 87 Cts. Yard. 3^* Ask to See Our Waist Fronts?worth $1.25 to $2.00? SPECIAL 75 Cts. and 98 Cts. Yard. Silk Petticoats. 5.50 All Silk Petticoats?Special $2.89 Each. >.00 Petticoats?All Silk?Heavier Quality? SPECIAL $3.98 Each. ,atest Novelties in Ladies' Neckwear. All the newest things at attractive prices?Jabots, Bows id Collars?in a wide range of styles. 3^ 10 CTS. 25 CTS. 48 CTS. H All the Newest Shades in Ladies' Silk Gloves. KIRKPATF COMI ^ORKVILLE VISIT OUR A Notion Department. J Opening si D of Spring Goods illinery Department, we confine of the LEADING FEA TURES ?s. We have spared nothing to 1 i-^ii e iu you, anu we cuiuiaiiy inOF SPRING MILLINERY 30 to 11 P.M. ^ I and 24th. iity to show a most complete Dtton Goods, Shoes, Clothing, ything in Dry Goods that is P-TO-DATE White Goods. Special Purchases?Short Lengths and Small Quantities? NOT ON SALE UNTIL WEDNESDAY. 500 yards Long Cloth?worth 12 i-2c per yard?Short lengths?SPECIAL 81-2 Cts. Yard. 2.000 yards 40 inch White Lawn?worth 50 per cent more? SPECIAL 10 Cts. Yard. 500 yards Blue Ribbon Batiste?worth double the price. SPECIAL 12 1-2 Cts. Yard. 500 yards Striped Madras?beautiful shirt and shirtwaist patterns?SPECIAL 15 Cts. Yard. 600 yards 10c Cambric and Domestic 81-2 Cts. Yard. Big Assortment of Children's Muslin Underwear At About HALF PRICE! Special in Colored Cotton Goods. 2.000 yards Good Calico?Special 41-2 Cts. Yard. 2,000 yards Best Dark Colored Calico?At 5 Cts. a Yard. 1.000 yards Remnants, Suitings and Colored Lawns?worth up to 15c per yard?On Sale Wednesday?5 Cts. Yard. We are showing the prettiest and most complete line of Colored Ginghams and Percales ever shown At 10 Cts. Yard. This includes 15 pieces of the celebrated Bates' Ginghams. 200 yards Serpentine Crepe?worth 20c per yard SPECIAL 12 1-2 Cts. Yard. 1.000 yards Colored Lawns?SPECIAL ...41-2 Cts. Yard. Hamilton Hickory Stripes n 1-2 Cts. Yard. 1.000 yards Colored Foulards?looks like silk SPECIAL 12 1-2 Cts. Yard. Shoes! Shoes!! Here Is the Place to Buy Your Spring Footwear?They H LOOK RIGHT FEEL RIGHT PRICED RIGHT. 9 The Snappiest Styles In All the Leathers and At Prices That Will Surprise You?Let Us Prove It. THE SELBY SHOE IK 3*TTHE RALSTON SHOE I Clothing! Clothing!! I Our Stock Is Increasing Every Day?Styles and Quality g Count Here?Our First Shipment of Strouss Bros.'s Fa- g mous "HIGH ART" Clothing Arrived Today. We Can Fit Y O U In a Suit for $2.98 to $20.00. Big Lot ODD PANTS?New Styles?New Goods? Old Prices?At 75 Cts. to $6.50 a Pair. ilCK-BELK PANY, . South Carolina i rWe Are Agents for the ...Butterick Patterns...