The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, February 16, 1898, Page 7, Image 7
SOMEHOW OR OTHER.
Life has a burden for every one's shoulder.
None may escape from its trouble and care.
Miss it in youth, and 'twill come when we're
older
And fit us as close as the garments we wear.
Sorrow eomcs into our homes uninvited,
Robbing our hearts of its treasures of song;
Lovers grow cold, and our friendships are
6lighted,
Yet somehow or other we worry along.
M:dit the sweet blossoms' that smile in our
facea
Grow the rank weeds that would poison and
blight,
And e'er in the midst of earth's beautiful
places
There always is something that isn't quite
right.
Yet oft from a rock we may pluck a gay flower
And drink from a spring in a desolate vasto.
3*ey come to the heart liko a heavenly dower.
And naught is so sweet to the cyo or the
taste.
Everyday toil is everyday blessing,
Though poverty's cottage and crust we may
share.
tVeak is the back on which burdens are press- j
ing,
But stout is the heart that is strengthened
by prayer.
Somehow or other the pathway grows brighter
Jost when we mourn there was nono to be
friend.
Hope in the heart makes the burden grow
lighter,
And somehow or other we get to the end
?American Bazar.
INTO BEEP WATERS.
Something struck the vicar in his
daughter's appearance that day. He
was a grim man, and gonerally he
remarked little that did not concern
his work. Her eyes sparkled and she
was full of some mystery. He was
reminded of her childish days when
she used to prepare "surprises, " and
he thought as he looked at her that
after all she was not much changed
by lengthening of frocks and twist
ing her hair up.
Then he retreated once more into
I himself.
She had no remarkable beauty
from any classical point of view.
Her features were not regular, and
an analysis of her chiim to even pret
tiness would ha^e shown it to be
slender. Yet Sibyl North was pret
ty, and she had that nameless charm
that is more potent than perfection.
Her mouth, was good and so were
her teeth, and as she was always
laughing you saw them well and
knew how white and even they were.
Her eyes were not large nor was
their color any way noticeable, but
they danced with mischief and mer
riment. Her hair was brown and
curly. It was long, too, and she
was very proud of it.
She had the happy temperament
that is not ruffled by the thousand
and one small worries of life. She
was not spared any of these, I sup
pose, but she rode buoyantly over
them like a craft so light that the
waves carry it safely above the rocks
against which a heavier vessel would
be broken.. She was splendidly
healthy, and this perhaps made it
easy to be light hearted.
Mr. North was a widower with a
family of six, of whom Sibyl was
the eldest. She kept house for him,
and she helped the governess with
the children's lessons. She played
cricket with the boys in the field be
hind the house on the holidays. She
mended stockings, she patched
youthful knees, she knitted and she
read to her father. She had alw ays
a la/) or bosom to be tried on by the
5-year-old boy or the G-year-old lit
tle sister, and she could comfort ei
ther and turn their tears into smiles.
She packed for the brothers when
they went to school, and she hid a '
cake somewhere among their clothes
to cheer their homesickness.
Mr. North was a silent man who
had given himself up to books. He
was short in his manner, and his
children regarded him with awe.
Sibyl was looked upon as mediator,
but mediation was little necessary
since all authority was vested in her
self and the governess. To Sibyl
only did he show the warmer side of
iis nature. He liked to have her
with him. He put into her willing
'hands much that was precious?and
tedious, too?of his work, and she
copied for him and made copious ex
tracts. He seldom praised her in
words. It was not his way.
"I should like a picture of you,"
he said o?>e day suddenly.
Sibyl looked up in surprise.
"A picture, father rf"
He was sihsnt for a few moments.
"Well, a photograph," he said
presently, and speaking slowly. "As
a family this has been neglected.
Your mother died, and I have no '
likeness of her."
He said nothing more and the sub- j
ject was dropped. Sibyl went on ;
with her work of correcting proofs.
A smile curved the corners of her
mouth and her eyes twinkled. Her
thoughts wandered.
From the study window she could
see the waves beating 0:1 the shore
The vicarage stood on the Cornisl
coast. It was 6n the outskirts of a
fishing village and four miles from
a town. The smell of tho sou and
the taste of brine were in the ail
when presently Sibyl put down hei
work and went out.
William North opened the window
and looked after her. He, toe;, no
ticed the smell of the sea. The air
seemed full of spray, und the waves
broke themselves on the shore with
insistence. It was on the next day
that Sibyl wore an air of mystery.
Mr. North's birthday was approach
ing and the children were getting
up ;t play. Instructively betconneot
ed with tiiis lier spurkling fly es, that
seemed of themselves t<> be chuc
kling over something, and ;i mysteri
ous visit to the town He remem
bered afterward her look upon Unit
day.
The play progressed. William
North unbent somewhat and quizzed
I
tno cnii?ron as io me surprise uiey ;
wore getting up for him.
"But Sibyl's got a real surprise," !
saidMabey, the youngest girl, blurt- j
ing out in an excess of affectionate !
confidence part of the secret of her
6ister.
"Hush I" said Sibyl.
"You little blab," cried the boys,
"one can't tell you anything."
"The mysterious visit to the ;
town!" said Mr. North.
"Be quiet, father, you're not to j
know," said Sibyl. "Mabey, I told ;
I you not to say a word about it."
"Yes, Mabey shall have her tongue
I tied," cried one of the boys.
? "You little telltale," said tho
other, and Mabey subsided into tears
and Sibyl's lap.
Mr, North watched her as she
soothed the little thing's distress
How gentle she was !
"Oh, my girl T' he said to himself
suddenly. Her goodness seemed re
vealed to him in that moment.
"There's a spring tide tonight,"
said Arthur. "Jack and I are going j
to Tether's point to see it. Old
Txemlin says it will be one of the
highest ever known, and there's a
splendid sea on already."
The younger children clamored to
be allowed to go too.
"No," said Sibyl. "You, Willie
and Mabey, must stay with me. fj
Tether's point is too far for you to ;
walk, besides it will not be high tide \
before your bedtime. Elsie, you can j
go with them if you like, but you \
must put on your strong boots, and j
tell nurse to tie my woolen scarf j
across your chest. "
Willie and Mabey began to pro- j
test. .
Mr. North returned to his severe
manner and silenced them.
"Sibyl says no, and that is ;
enough," he said. "Not another
word."
Their mouths turned down.
"I think they might come down
to the beach, sir," said Sibyl, seeing |
their disappointment. "It is only |
Tether's point that is too far. Ma- ;
bey, be good and ask father if you j
may come down with me for a quar
ter of an hour before going to bed."
Mabey shrank back behind her
elder sister's skirts.
"But Sibyl meant to go to Tether's
point herself," said Elsie, "you
know you did, Sibyl. You told mo
so. You wanted to see the waves. "
"I can see them just as well on
the shore here," said Sibyl.
"Why should you sacrifice your
self to these children?" said Mr.
North testily. "Why can't their
governess take them?"
"She is lying down with a head- |
ache, sir, and nurse has a cold, and
I can't send one of the other scrv- ,
ants out tonight. Besides, I like tu
1 go with the children. "
"Well, just as you like," said Mr. j
North crossly. He went to his j
study.
The wind was roaring round the
house and the waves# thundered on !
the shore. He settled himself to his i
work. He dipped his pen in tho ink !
and looked at the ruled paper before j
him. He wrote a sentence, read it !
over, altered a word and finally can- j
celed the whole with a line. Then j
he began once more. The house j
shook in the fierceness of the gale, j
A draft came from the chimney, j
Presently he heard the boys and j
Elsie starting. He heard their boots j
on tho hall, and Elsie's "strong !
pair" creaked. Arthur ungallantly J
told her that thoy made his head
ache. Mr. North smiled dryly as he j
heard Elsie retort that they had been
Arthur's before they were hers and ;
that they would be his still only
that they had ceased to fit him.
"And I'm not surprised," she add- i
ed, "though they're miles too big
for me."
The door slammed on the argu
ment.
Thon he heard the pattering of
Mabey and Willie and their excited
voices calling for Sibyl.
"Coming, coming, coming!" ,
sounded in her voice from up stairs. I
He heard her bounding lightly down
with a jump at the last four steps. |
Then it struck him that he had spo- i
ken crossly to her?even though it
had been on her own behalf?and as !
she passed the study door he called
to her.
"What is it, father?"
j "Nothing. I want to kiss you;
that's all."
"Dear old father!"
"I am a bear sometimes. "
"Never, father. Never a bear to j
me."
"Sibyl?"
I "Yes, dear."
"Do the children love mo?"
i "Yes, father. You are a little bit i
eharp with them sometimes."
She laid her face against his.
"Try to be gentle with them. I
They are children. They don't *m- \
derstand."
\ "How good you are, Sibyl!"
After that he moved as if.lie would
go on with bis work. The childr< u !
had opened the hall dour, and they !
had admitted the four winds of !
heaven.
"Now I must be off," she said.
He never knew what impulse
moved him, but ho followed her to
the door, and there lie kissed her \
again. When he went back to bis
writing table, there were tears in
his ey< s.
Half an hour passed. LI was fi.ll? d
in the study by the sound of tho
scratching of ;t inn. The viear
wrote that night u sermon thai h"
never preached. The text was taki u
from the thirty lir.-i ehapter of
Proverbs and the twenty-ninth
verse.
He heard thechildn u come in 1 ; i * I
he called to them.
"Where is your sister, dear:"' ho
asked of Mabey.
"She sent us m because it was
time for us to go to bed, and she has
stopped because she wanted to see
the sea, and so we're to go to nurse. "
"And oh, thesea"s so rough," said
Willie, "and there aro big enormous
waves as big as?oh, ever so big!
And Mabey's hat nearly blew away,
and our coats are quite wet,"
"Go and take them oft, my boy.
Good night, little man. Good night,
Maboy. Run along. "
* ? a a
Sibyl stood on the beach and
watched the sea. Her clothes were
twisted round her by the gale, and
her hair had been blown loose and
was slapping her in the face and
flapping like ribbons. Every wave
seemed to dig into the shore as it
broke with the crashing of a thou
sand guns, and then rushed up the
floating shingle. It tore the stones
back with a grinding sound on its
receding. Spray stood in drops on
Sibyl's face and on the nap of her
rough coat. Foam lay like yellow
enow in a long line that was washed
higher and higher.
How the wind roared, and how
the sea thundered! Sibyl breathed
a prayer for all who were at the
mercy of tho waters. What a free
and superb curve was that of the
breaking wave! There must be for
a moment a hollow, she thought, un
der each as the hollow under the
Falls of Niagara, where you can
stand unwet in the heart of the cat
aract.
In the wild evening the glamour of
the storm took possession of her.
She was buffeted by the wind and
wet by the spray till it seemed to be
that the tempest awoke a kindred
spirit within her. She would like to
dash into those angry waves and
help in the havoc of the night. How
rapturous to be a mermaid, to dive
through those monstrous breakers,
tc ride upon.the crests of them, to
throw yourself backward, thence
with outstretched arms to turn and
tumble and dance till you churned
them to further foam !
She stood looking at tho sea with
a fascination that made her heedless
of all but her fancies. Then her
heart stood still. A black mountain
was advancing toward her. Had the
whole sea heaped into one stupen
dous wave?
There was the noise of the crush
ing of a world.
In his study the vicar looked up
from his sermon.
"What was that?" he said aloud.
There was silence in the house and
then a screaming. The women rush
ed from their quarters.
"The water's coming up the gar
den."
The maid who spoke was white to
the lips. Mr. North went to the
door and opened it. There was a
sound in the garden that had never
been heard before. It was the rush
ing back of the water. It flowed
down in a flat sheet to the basin of
tho sea.
"A tidal wave," said the vicar,
"it will not occur again."
"I thought it was the end of the
world," said the uurso. "It's a
mercy the children were in. But
Where's the boys and Miss Elsie?"
The vicar threw up his arms.
"Sibyl!" he said. "Sibyl! Where
is Sibyl? My God, don't tell me she
iso't with you!"
The servants looked at each other
in blank affright. No one had seen
her. No one had heard her come in.
"Can't you answer?" said the vic
ar, turning to them such a frenzied
look as not one of them will ever
forget. They shrank back. The
nurse began to sob.
Mr. North ran down the garden,
splashing through the water that
had been left in pools upon the
grass. The sea had fallen back to
its accustomed place. There was
nothing on the beach but high up
tho line of the yellow foam. The
vicar ran hither and thither on the
shore. He seemed bereft of his
senses. The women followed him,
keeping close together. He stopped
and faced them.
"What shall I do?" he said help
lessly; "what shall I do?"
"Where are the boys and Elsie?"
said the nurse.
"Tether's point. They are safe?
but Sibyl. Oh, dear God, Sibyl, Sib
yl!"
He began to sob. His knees shook
He wore no hat, and his gray hah
was blowing in the wind. His long
coat flapped around him. Some of I
the parishioners gathered on the
shore. The servants ran to them.
Old Tremlim Haid no boat could put
out in such a sea?and if she could,
what good \
"But, .Miss Sibyl!" he said. "It
can't be true! The Lord couldn't let
it!"
The night was spent in search.
Parties were quickly organized and
sent out in both directions. From
Tether's point came tho boys and
Elsie.
"It washed up to within a foot of
us. Did you all conic out to see il ?"
'Was Sibyl with your Have you
seen Sibylr"
They had not. With while faces
they joined in t ? i ? - search. The piti
less sea feil back yard by yard, and
With liw dawn the wind dropped.
The vicar, a st; iekeii mai;," raised
' his lined lace lo heaven.
"Thy way is in 1 he sea, " he said;
"thy pal h in i in- great watei s," and
again, " I fit her to shall thou cone*,
! but no lui I her, and la ; e shall : by
proud waves In- staid. I> it true, ? >
. Lord : Is it ; t run?"
Jt wa many day.- before 1 here lay
; One morning at daybreak upon the
; beach thai which had once been
i Sibyl. Jt lay still in the gray light,
and tin; ripples washed to and fro
gently the hair thai looked like sea
weed. Tuen tiic waters reu. xney
had done their worst and the}* gave
back their plaything to the earth.
The post brought a little packet to
the vicar on his birthday. He open
ed it without interest. But it held
Sibyl's photograph.?Boston (Eng
land) Guardian.
The Old Lyceum System.
During along period, says Colonel
T. W. Higgiuson in Tho Atlantic, I
lectured a great deal in what were
then called Lyceum courses, which
stretched over the northern half of
the United States 40 years ago to an
extent now hardly conceivable.
There were two or three large or
ganizations or bureaus which under
took systematically the task of
bringing speaker and audience to
gether with the least possible in
convenience to both. One of these,
J whose center was Dubuque, la., ne
gotiated in 186? for 35 lecturers and
110 lecture courses, undertaking to
distribute the one with perfect pre
cision and to supply the other. As
a result the lecturer left home with
a circular in his pocket, assigning
his dozen or his hundred engage
ments, as the case might be. Many
of these might bo in towns of which
he had never heard the names. No j
matter, he was sure that they would j
be there, posted a day's journey j
apart, and all ready to receive'him. j
As a rulo he would meet in each I
new iilace what looked like the same '
audience, would make tho same I
points in his lecture as before, would :
sleep at what seemed the same hotel i
and breakfast on the same tough j
beefsteak. He would receive the j
usual compliments, if any, and make j
tho same courteous reply to tho ac- j
customed questions as to tho acous- !
tics of the hall and the intelligence j
of the audience. In the far west he ;
would perhaps reach villages where,
as the people came 20 miles for their j
entertainments, a dance might be
combined with a lecture?"tickets ;
to Emerson and the ball, $1."
The Epicure's Paradise.
It is our belief that in the United j
States the region around the Chesa- I
peake bay probably produces more
good things to eat than any other
upon God's footstool. The shellfish
of the Chesapeake bay, the Lynn
Haven and Cherrystone oysters, the
salt water fish which swarm in the
waters of the Chesapeake, the fresh
water fish which swim in the Sus- j
quehanna and other rivers which !
run into that magnificent sheet of :
water, the diamond back terrapin of ,
the Chesapeake marshes, the wild j
fowl that fly over those marshes, j
the canvasbacks that regale them- j
selves upon the wild celery in the :
ponds along the Chesapeake shore, j
the plump and yellow legged chick- !
ens raised by the farmers' wives on ;
both sides of that bay, the lusoious
peaches and other fruits found in ;
Delaware and Maryland, the tooth
some sides and flitches of Maryland
bacon, the Virginia hams, and gen- :
erally the products of that fat and
juicy district known as tho "eastern
shore" of Maryland?who that has
ever lived or sojourned there can
forget them??San Francisco Argo
naut.
Mr. Staybolt on the Effect? of Labor.
"My friend Mr. Noggletou tells ;
me," said Mr. Staybolt, "that he !
has added five or six years to his
life in the last year by hard work.
I suppose that what he really means
is not that he has added, but that ho
has subtracted, that number of years :
from his lifev but I think neverthe
less that his own inaccurate state
ment is more likely to be actually
correct. Moderate use is more pre
servative than rust, and I have no
fear that Noggletou will be immod
erate in labor."?New York Sun. ;
Kongo Cannibals.
Livingstone was slow to believe
that cannibalism prevailed to any
extent in the Kongo regions. Cap- !
tain Hinde found it widely prova- j
lent. He says in his book, "The
Fall of the Kongo Arabs:" "So far ;
as I have been able to discover, i
nearly all the tribes in tho Kongo j
basin either are or have been canni- j
bals, and among some of them tho
practice is on the increase." In j
some districts a regular traffic in
human flesh was carried on, and to
such an extent that tho Europeans
did not venture to buy flesh offered
in the market, especially when
smoked. It would appear that not
only captives of low rank are re
served for this fate. Tho chief Mo
hara, who fell lighting with the
Arab force under Tippu Tib's son :
Sefu, seems to have been disposed
of in this way. So, at least, wo con
cludo from the reply of some of his
rival's peoplo: "Oh, we know all
about Mohara ! We ate him the day
before yesterday."
MoimuHen's AbnentmintlcdueKK.
The Berliners tell many a story of
Professor Mommsen's absentmiud
ediiess, and he has even been credit
ed with not having recognized his
own little son and with having ask
ed him his name preparatory t<> re
questing him not to make quite so
much noise in a public tram ear in
which he was going to I own from
his home in Charlottenburg, and it
is even said t liai he put his first baby
into the waste \r,\lier basket one day
and covered it up because it ci icd.?
St. James' < fazette.
.\n [explanation.
W hy do they speak of it as mat
rimonial harness':" asked the in
quisil ive boarder.
"Because," Asbury Peppers ex
plained, "il begins with a bridal
and usually ends with ?nie or the
other having a hi I of a cinch."?
Cincinnati Enquirer.
A BAR-D OF THE DESERT.
An English Artist V/ritcfl Interestingly
of a Bedouin Poet.
Mr. R. Talbot Kelly, the English
artist, writes of "My Bedouin
Friends" in The Century. Mr. Kelly
says cf tho tribal bard:
He was an old man, gray bearded
and sun dried, and the look of im
portance upon his brow was repeat
ed in the expression of reflected
glory which animated the counte
nance of his son. Each carried an in
strument called el kemengeh, a kind
of two stringed fiddle.
Shutting his eyes and comfortably
rubbing his hands together, the old
man began, in a harsh, strident
voice, to deliver a panegyric upon
tho song he was going to sing, call
ing forth repeatedly ejaculations of
"Aiwa!" "Yeuss!" and other ap
proving signs from the assembled
crowd. After ten minutes of this I
became impatient and exclaimed, "I
drub el kemengeh y a usta" ("Play
your fiddle, O my master"), where
upon, with sympathetic grunts from
all, he began the overture, a weird,
wailing melody, to which the son
played a kind of second in a minor
key which it is impossible to tran
scribe correctly in our annotation.
Beginning like the sighing of the
wind among the palm trees, it grad
ually gathered power and volume in
a crescendo, then died away again to
a breath, playing infinite changes
upon tho opening theme. The effect
was distinctly artistic and quaint,
and I was gradually drifting into
a state of dreamy imaginings when
suddenly the bard broke silonce, and
in a voice of amazing power and in
cisiveness began to intone the "Song
of the Nephaat?."
Going back for generations, the
legend described the growing of the
parent tribe into a power in Mesopo
tamia, and how, in course of time,
whon men and camels and horses
were in plenty, the head sheik de
cided upon the conquest of Tunis.
Admirably accompanied on their in
struments, one seemed to hear the
hurried riding of messengers dis
patched to summon distant families ;
their horses' hoof strokes gradually
dying in the distance until naught
was heard but the sighing of the
night wind across the desert. Pres
ently from far away was caught the
distant thundering of the gathering
hordes, gradually approaching near
er and nearer until the volume of
sound culminated in a general salu
tation to the sheik who summoned
them. Then came the sheik's ex
hortation, and the description of
their desert journey, which was to
occupy many months.
Incidents by the way?heat, thirst,
noise and dust by day and the eter
nal silence of tho desert by night,
the brightness of the stars, the wax
ing and waning of tho moon, the
hardships, excitements, plenty and
poverty of condition?were each in
turn graphically described to the
samo weird accompaniment.
Hour after hour this wont on, tho
bard's eye gleaming and his voice
growing stronger and stronger, un
til I was almost stunned by its thun
dering monotone. Meanwhile the
tribesmen,shifting excitedly in their
seats and uttering quick ejacula
tions of approval, constituted a scene
which kept me spellbound. Even
tually, in tho narrative, Tunis was
reached and the horde of Arabs en
camped beneath its walls.
It was now midnight, and for four
long hours I had listened to this
wonderful epic, but realizing that 1
was too thoroughly exhausted for
further amusement, I decided to
"turn in" and, getting up, I left the
assembly in the zenith of their ex
citement and gratification.
Tho Giraffe's Drink.
"If T were going to give a word of
advice to a young man just embark
ing in the show business," said the
old circus man, "I should say never
let a giraffe drink out of a pond or
a stream, because he's almost cer
tain to drink too much. You see,
the giraffe doesn't really realize that
he's drinking until he begins to take
the water into his stomach, and he
doesn't stop drinking until he's got
enough there. The result of this is
that his neck is still full, a long col
umn of water that he doesn't need,,
but that he takes in just the same
and often with disastrous results. I
have known many a giraffe to kill
himself by drinking too much, and
I feel that I cannot do my young
and ambitious friends a greater
service than by warning them of
this characteristic. The giraffe
should be watered invariably from
a bucket."?New York Sun.
Au Orkney Prayer.
The brevity of the Orkney sum
mer precluding the raising of hardly
anything except oats ("aits") and
barley, the elders had requested the
minister to pray for good harvest
weather. He complied as follows:
"Lord, gio us hraw weather and a
wee bit saugh of a breeze that will
flree the straw and will nae harm
tho beads, but if. ye blaw us sie a
bletherin, rivin, tearin blast as we
hue been ha'in, ye'll play the vera
mischief wi' the aits and fairly spoil
i" !"?Arena.
According I " static ties about
1.Ulli?.till!) false teeth are uuinul'acturcd
annually in this country, while one
ton of gold and tis! -? tens of silver
and platinum, i" ilo- value of sOOO,
000. iiru used in lilling teeth.
There are llnno little tliioj;- which do
more work llian any nther three intle
Luing.s created?I hey are the ant, the bee
und l>"V\ iit-s Linie Karly Uisers, the last
I'eintr the l'a mou? little pills for .stomach
and liver trou Mes. K\ans Pharmacy.
SKIPPER AS SCHOOLMASTER.
The Kight Man For tlic l'lzcz, but Ho
Served Only One J):ty.
Thousands of young men and wo
men in this country are annually
preparing themselves for tho voca?
tion of schoolteacher, hut there is a.
shipmaster in this port who tells a
good story of how, when lie wa3 in
a Florida port, he concluded he
would accept a school that was of
fered him and quit the sea.
"I was in Pensacola, Fla., during
the winter of 1S70." said Captain
Blank, "with tho English hark Dex
ter. As I had 45 lay days and the
charterers told me they would not
begin to load the ship for nearly
month I concluded I would take
quarters ashore and enjoy myself
hunting and fishing. One day, while
I was in Milton, a small village
about ten miles from Pensacola, I
met a planter, who made me a very
flattering offer to teach a private
school in his district, some 20 miles
north of Milton. As the salary he
offered me was nearly three times
as much as I was getting I concluded
I would accept it. So that night I
drove out with him to his place, and
next morning I was introduced to
my scholars. You never saw such a
lot of children in your life?boys
and girls from 10 to 22 years of age,
and as untamed as a hurricane in
the Indian ocean. The planter had
been gone about five minutes when
the fun began, and from that time
till the noon recess these pupils had
lots of fun.
"When school reassembled in the
afternoon, a big,redheaded lad start
ed the circus by hitting me square
in the face with a spitball and there
by raising a storm. I went outsido
and got a couple of good sized clubs,
and when I came in I locked the
door, took off my coat and started
in. Within five minutes they were
cowed. You never in all your lifo
saw such a set of badly whipped
boys and girls, for I was so excited,
once I got started on them, that any
head was good enough for me to
hit, and about the only thing I felt
sorry for 20 years afterward was the
language I used, for I talked pretty
much as I would on the quarter deck
of a ship to a mutinous crew. After
I had thoroughly beaten the cubs 1
struck for Pensacola as fast as my
legs would carry me, as I was sure
the planters would murder me if I
they caught me after giving tho
children such a trouncing, but a let
ter I received from the man who en
gaged me convinced methat, instead
of doing me an injury, I could have
had anything I wanted. This is the j
letter I received:
"Milton, Fla., Jan. 15, 187G.
"Dbak Captain Blank?Inclosed is $50, your !
compensation for teaching-school one day.
During the oast five years we have had fully
'JO teachers, not one of whom was able to han
dle our boys and girls for a week, but the
thorough licking you gave them will only ;
make it necessary for us in future to say, "If |
you don't do right we will, go to the city and
get some shipmaster to come out and take the
school." Accept my thanks and tho.se of my
neighbors for tho great service you uncon
sciously rendered us. Yours truly, J. C. B. '1
?Tacoma Letter in Portland Ore
gonian.
Tho Game of the Day.
The last ferryboat across the Styx
reached the sulphurous, lava cov
ered shores of hades, and the crowd
of side tracked spirits stood outside
the fireproof gates on the sidewalk
of broken promises and fanned
themselves.
Long did they linger there, and
no one came to greet them, till at
length there appeared on top of the
wall an imp. He surveyed the wait
ing throng through a pair of smoked
opera glasses and then addressed
them through a megaphone:
"You folks might just as well sit
down and be comfortable or walk
around and look at the points of in
terest. There's the good resolution
pavement over there, only be care
ful of it; it's easily broken. A cou
ple of golf sharps from Westchester
got here just before you arrived,
and they are teaching the old man
the game. It's taken him 22 shots
to reach the third hole, and he's torn j
up two acres of ground and chipped
his hoof, but he's going on, so you'll
have to wait. See you later. I'm
playing caddie, and I*m wanted.''? I
New York Journal.
The Art and Mystery of Driving a Hog.
The difficulty of driving a single
hog was well illustrated at the foot
of Ninth street one afternoon. Somo
men were driving a herd of swine to
Amherst, and as they approached
the bridge one of the animals be
came obstreperous and bolted to
ward the city, becoming thereby
separated from the rest of the drove.
The three or four men, assisted by
volunteers, placed themselves be
tween the city and the rebellious
hog in a semicircle, while one of
their number advanced cautiously
and began to tickle the hog's nose
with a pine brush. This would make
the animal turn round, and each
time he did so he would move a few
j steps toward the bridge ami the rent
i of the drove. The maneuvers were
j watched with a great deal of iuter
j est by a large crowd of spectators,
and when finally the wayward one
returned to the bosom of t he drove
a very audible murmur of admira
tion went up from the crowd.?
Lynchburg News.
A rural-citizen, reading the mar
riage notice of ;i friend of his boy
hood, came across the words. "No
card-. "Well; well!" he exclaim
ed, "El" gettiu' married made John
swear oil! from eard-playin'. thar must
be some good in it. I'er lie un:: the
de\ i I "ii a game er seven up !
A thrill <>! terror is experienced when
n brassy cough of croup sounds through
the bouse al night. But the terror soon
changes to relief alter One .Minute Cough
('tire lias been administered. Sil'e and
harmless for children. H vans Pharmacy.
NOTICE FINAL SETTLEMENT.
a*>p undeserved, Adntfofctralor of
Esraveo*' Margaret McCulIough deceased,
hereby gives notice CiiaJ he r?ll on the
2?th (3ay of February, 1SGS, cpp?y to the
Judge of Probate for Anderson County for
a Final Settlement of said Estate, and a
rj?cheoge Srorn his office as Administra
tor.
A. W. McCULLOUGH. Adin'r.
Jan 2?3/15WS 31 5
DOUBLE DAIW
SERVICE
TO
ATLANTA, CHARLOTTE,
WILMINGTON,
NEW ORLEANS
AND
NEW YORK, BOSTON,
RICHMOND.
WASHINGTON, NORFOLK,
PORTSMOUTH.
SCHEDULE IN EFFECT FEB. 7, 1896.
SOUTHBOUNx,
No. 403.
Lv New York, via Penn R. R.*ll 00 am
Lv Philadelphia, ? 1 12 pm
Lv Baltimore " :j 15 pm
Lt Washington, " 4 40 pm
No."4?
*9 63fyu
12 ?am
2 60 am
4 30 am
Lv Richmond, A.C. L.12 56 a m *1 S9 gm
Lv Norfolk, via S. A. L.*8 30 pm *9
Lv Portsmouth, " ._.. 8 45 pm 9
Lv WeHoD,
Ar Hendenon,
Ar Durham,
Lv Durham,
...-..?11 28pm*ll Warn
. 12 56 a m *1 39 pm
.f7 32 am f4 (flf pm
to 20 pm fll 10
Ar Raleigh, via S. A. L. *2 16 am
ArSanford, " . 3 S5 am
Ar Southern Pincs " ........... 4 ai am
Ar Hamlet, " ?. 5 10 am
Ar Wadesboro, " . 5 54 am
Ar Monroe, "._ 6 43 am
?3 31 l
5 OS nm
5 56 pm
6 5ft pm
Ar Charlotte,
*8 30 am *10
Ar Chester, " ,,.
Lv Columbia, C. N. ?. L. R, fi"
Ar Clinton S. A L.
Ar Grpenwood "
Ar Abbeville,
Ar El nerton, "
Ar Athens, "
Ar Winder,
?3 10 am 10 4?,pm
. f6 OOrmi
9 45 am *12 10 tan
10 35 am 1 Qt am
11 05 am
12 07 pm
1 15 pm
59 pm
A r Atlanta, S A. L. (Cen.Time) 2 59 pm
1 40pm
2 flam
3 43 am
4 3EUm
5 2$ am
NORTHBOUND.
No. 4jB>.
No.lgT
Time) *12 00 c'a *7 50 mn
2 40 pm 10 42 pm
Lv Atlanta,S.AL.(Cen.
Lv Winder, "
L7 Athens, "
LvElberton, '
Lv AbbeviUu, "
Lv Greenwood, "
Lv Clinton, *
Ar Columbia, C N. & L. R.R...*4 30 pm *7 45 ?in
Lv Chester, S. A. L - 8 13 pm" 4 Sg'tm
'{ 16 pm
4 15 pm
ii 15 pm
5 41 pm
6 31 pm
II 28 am
K 38 am
1 40 am
2 09 am
3 05 am
Av harlot re.
*10 25 pm *8
Lv Monroe,
Lv Hamlet,
Ar Wilmington
Lv Southern Pines,
Lv Kaleigh,
Ar Heodeason
9 40 pm
11 28 pm
6 05. fen
8 loam
Ar Durham,
Lv Durham
jo 30 am 12 3>gpi
12 14 am ~20ato
*2 16 am 11 3S mm
3 28 am 1 SB pja
ArWeMon, " ....
Ar Richmond A. C. L.
Ar Washington, Pen n. R. R
Ar Baltimore, .......
Ar Philadelphia, " _
Ar New York, " ._
? +7 r?am f4 oVbm
.f5 eopm fil M srr
*4 65 8m
8 15 am
12 31 pm
1 43 pm
3 50 pm
*6 23 pm
Ar Portsmonth S. A. L.......... 7 80 am 5
Ar Norfolk " *7 50 am G 05 L?
-Daily. jDaily, Ex. Sunday. jDailyEx.Mondy
Nos. 403 arid 402 "The Atlanta Special,"' SSM
Vestibulcd Train, of Pullman Sleepers and Chacft
es between Washington and Atlanta, also Ptfft
man Sleepers between Portsmouth and Cheitet, ?
Nos. 41 and 38, "The S. A. L Express," Solid
Train, Coaches and Pullman Sleepers belTvcen
Portsmouth and Atlanta.
For Pickets, Sleepers, etc., apply to
B. A. Newland, Gen'1. Agent Pass Dept.
Wm. B. Clements, T. P. A., 6 Kimball Eotue
Attaota, Ga.
E. St John, Vice-President and Gen'I. Manger
V. E. MeBee General Superintendent.
11. W. B. Glover, Traffic Manager.
T J. Anderson, Gen'I. Passenger Agent.
General Officers, Portsmouth, Va.
BLUE RIDGE RAILROAD
H. C. BEATTIE, Receiver.
October 6tb, 1895.
Eastbound (Between Anderson and Wal
( balle.
il IX KD
No.
12.1
STATIONS.
s 10 ftO a m. Ar.Anderson.Lv
f 30 25 am!.Denver.
f 10 Kam
s 10 00 a m
Antun....
.Pendieton.
s 9 42am,.Cherry's Crossing
f 9 33am
s 8 55am
s 8 25 a m
s S H a m
Adam's Crossing..
Seneca-.
iLv
...West Union.
.Walhalla....
Ar.
3 35 p m
3 55 p m
4 05 y w
4 15 pm
4 25 p m
4 35 pm
5 05 p m
550pm
G 20 p H
G 30 p
J. R. ANDERSON, Sepcrintenden*.
W. C. COTHRAP, General Agent.
Connections at Seneca with Southeaa Railway
No. 11. At Anderson with Southern Railway No*.
11 and 12.
CHARLESTON AND WESTERN
CAROLINA RAILWAY.
AUGUSTA AMU ASHEVIIXE SHORT LINE
>n eflcct February 7,1897.
Lv Augusta.
Ar Greenwood.
Ar Anderson.
Ar Laurens.
Ar Greenville.
Ar Glenn Cprings....
Ar Spartanburg.
Ar Saluda.
Ar Hendersonville.
Ar Asheville.
9 40 am
1217 pm
115 pm
3 00 pm
4 05 pm
3 00 pm
5 23 pm
5 61 pm
7 00 pm
9 25 am
Lv Asheville.
Lv Spartanburg.
Lv Glenn Springs..
Lv Greenville.
Lv Laurens......
Lv Anderson.
Lv Greenwood-.
Ar Augusta..~
Lv Calhoun Falte -
Ar Balefgh.....
Ar Norfolk.
Ar Fetenbarg.
Ar Riebmond.
Lv Angoeia.
Ar Allendale.
Ar F?irfax.
Ar Yemassec.
Ar Beaufort....
Ar Port Royal.
ArSavanaah.
Ar Charleston.
8 20 am
1145 am
10 00 am
11 55 am
1 30 pm
400 pm
400 pm
7 10 pea
7 00 am
2 28 pmi.
5 00 pm 11 n am
4 44 pm
2 IG am
7 SO am
6 00 am
8 15 am
9 30 am
10 35 am
10 50 am
266 pm
800 pn
516 pm
620 fla
7 20
7 30 pm
8 00 pu
8 [18 pen
Lv Charleston.
Lv Savannah...
Lv Port Royal.,
Lv Beaufort.
Lv Yemassee...
Lv Fairfax.
Lv Allendale...
Ar Augusta.
15 p r
2) p-n
it p ?
6150 am
6 50 am
S 15 am
805 arm
9 28 am
10 32 am
1047 am
12 53 pm
Close connection at Calhoun Falls tor Athen?,
Atlanta and all points on S. A. L.
Close connection at Augusta for Charleston,
Savannah and all points.
Close connexions at Greenwood for all points on
S. A. L., and C. A G. Railway, and at Spartanbtfrg
with Southern Railway.
For any information relative to tickets, rate?,
Mhfdule, etc., address
W. J. CRAIU, Gen. Pass. Agent, Augusta,Ga.
R M. North, Sol. Agent._
ATLANTIC COAST LIKE.
T ra f ft? ' P epa IlTMENT,
Wilmington, X. C, Dec. 20,1897.
Fast Line Between Charleston and Col
ud) bia and Upper South Carolina, North
Carolina. ,
CON 1 > E NS ED SC 11EDU LE.
GOING west.
No. 52.
7 o<> am j Lv.Charleston..
81? J Lv.Lane?.
!' :") am I Lv.Sum:
! 0 n.". am
12 tOpui
GOING EAST
No. 53.
.Ar
.Ar
.Lv
?Lv
T.TT
9 15 pm
7 3G ran
r> 'M pm
5 00 pru
3 t?: pm
2 57 pm
Ar.Columbia_
Ar.Prosperity.
Ar.. .Ncwberry.
rlsopra i Ar.Clinton..Lv ! 2 l? pm
1 10pin Ar.Laurens.Lv I 1 41 p*n
4 2Jpiu j Ar.Greenville...Lv | 10 30 am
:; lOpm I Ar.Spartanburg.Lv I 11 4) am
i; V2 pm I Ar.Winnsboro, S. 0.Lv I lf 41 au
s 20 pm I A r .. . .Charlotte, N. C.Lv | 9 ?3 am
C, (15 mn ; Ar. Henderson ville, N. C.Lv '.? IS am
7 i):> pm j Ar.Asheville. N. C.?.v | S 20 ?m
'Dailv.
Nos. 52and 53Solid Trains between Charleston
and Columbia,S. C.
H. M. Lmkrsqn,
Gen'l. ri'.hPt nce^Acerit.
.1 il KKSLKY^Gcnera-! M?nw?fc.
T. M.FMSRSOK.TiXiflie Manager