Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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The Barnwell People. Circulation in the County A STORY FOB CBR1BTMAB. << A thooMnd pardon a, but could the Seuor the change girt for two pteoee of #90?” Jhon Welle jerked his newly-urged hones to a stuodetill and glared his an noyance at the heavily bearded Mex ican who, with doffod sombrero, h a>l suddenly confronted him at a point where the Menardville road extricated Itself from the scattered jacals of Me- Kavett and headed out fur the open prairie. It was early morning of the 34th of December, 1895. Wells had freshly risen from an unappetizing and indigestible breakfast of grease-sodden tortillas and rancid bacon; had quarrel ed with the hotel keeper over his ex tortionate charges for the last night’s lodging; was hungry; sngry with the sharp sleet that came drifting against hit face irom the northeast; angry wii h the “infernal luck” that doomed him to wander ovei the wild prairies Of southwestern Texas while the lest of mankind were happily preparing for the holiday festivities; nugry at 5 the abominable cabbage-leaf cigar which refused to yield him solace from hi* woes; angry with the world at large and—just at that moment—with the disreputable looking “Greaser” before him la particular. “Tw>gold pieces of $20,” he growl- ed. “Where are they? Are they counterfeit? How did you come by them?” The Mexican gravely held them forth in his dirty palm for inspection. “They are gold, senor. They were given me by the American, Seuor lllack —who sends the meat of goats across the seas io cans. The money is the price of 40 goats Uiat 1 drove from the Hio Conchi.” Wells regarded the Mexican with a searching gaze of suspicion. “1 know col. Bill Black, and his gold is good. But I think I know you, too. You were in the hotel just now whan 1 paid my bill, and I thiuk I saw you last night at the store where bought those cursed cigars. I believe you want to learo if I have inouey, an you cau relieve me of it farther out ou the plaint.” L The object of Wells’ distrust threw his aims aloft in bumble deprecation. “The Sec ted Mother knows—!’’ “Never mind that noasense,” ex claimed Well", roughly." “I’m Bo baby, ami I’ll take chances on you and all thr Greasers in McKavell. I’ll give you silver fur youi gold; and here in this sack is more money—while and yellow —that you may ha\e for the taking. Don’t be afraid of ibe guns—they jw never loaded—hut sail ib as soon as you can taise your crowd and overtake me.” The Mexican made no reply to this bland bit of encouragement, but bis snaky eves glemed evilly from their covert of steel-gny brows, as they rest ed upon ibs plump buckskin pouch pea. tied between the butts of a heavy shot gun and a winchester rifle. He was C rfuee io hit thanks for the Amer- n’s kindness, but Wells’ only re sponse w .s a short grunt as he once mom drew the blankets closely around biro and cbimii>ed to .his not over willing team. It was a long drive to Menardville, and a longer one lo the ms real railway station, the poict for which Wells was now beading. Ever since (he middle of November be had been driving here and there ameug Uie scattered ranches, on a collecting irip for his employers, a prominent Arm of San Antonio mer- chauts; and he was more than anxious to get back to civillzlion again. He was successful on his mission and had remitted several large sums by express; but his collections had been heavy ckir- hc thought the chances of popping his gaze boSantaClans by daylight were extremely small. { Several millions of boys, in different parts of the worid, bad been keeping their eyes open for years without avail, and there had come to be a papular belief that the jolly fellow with the reindeers traveled principally In the dark. “That’s the way he hit this ranch last ChristmM, and I reckon he left it till aoopt the last ranch on his rounds,” boy. J‘fle didn’t leave it I v rental the 1‘ile didn’t .»~ me a thing that I wanted—nutbin* but a little tin wagon and a pound of candy. ay, mtater, d’y® reckon Santa Claus ever bandies windcheaters?” The appearance of the elder Hank Grimm spared Wells the necessity ot answering ibis difficult query. The owner of the “Two Boot ranch” was a man well advanced in years, and pos sessed of a sturdy, erect figure, square- cui features and sky-blue eyes, that told at once of German ancestry and of past sei vice in the armies of the old world or the new. He welcomed the traveler heartily, directed him how to dispose of his horses foi the night, and i ben abruptly turned away and entered he house. Little Hank remained bo- hiudand, In his quaint, boyish way, superintended Wells’ every movement. A covey of quail that had been for aging iuAbe-vicinity of the crib flushed ai their approach and settled in the prairie gra-s a short distance away. LUtfe Hank clamored to have ,one of them killed for his Christm is breakfast, aud to please him, their return to the buggy, We)ls slipped a couple of bird loads in his Parker, and, when the covey rose again, grassed three plump beauties with a hasty double shot. The boy was in perfect ecstasies over his success. “That’s better’u you could do with a windcheater,” he remarked, in a tone denoting that he considered this the height of possible praise, “Gran’paw says a shotgun is no good; but I reckon il depends a heap on who shoots it. I never seed buloue before, and it wasn’t wuih shucks. It belonged to a man Irom Arkansaw, and. he couldn’t hit the broadside of ti mule.” The traveler’s effects were soon traulferred to the living room of the ranch, where he was introduced to the ranchman’s aged wife, and found that ibe only occupants of the place were themselves aud their precocious grand son. Gpnira was a Germou of the. old school, with tiue Teutonic ideas of c<>mfort, and it fteemed that unusual E reparalioa* for the evening meal hud ecu made in honor of hit visitors. All in the way of food that the ranch could offet was on the table, and, surmount ing the array of snowy Inacuiu, ham aud eggs, juicy steak and canned fruit, stood a group of ancient glass decanters, their conieuts shining iu a gradation of colors from deep red to straw yellow Lillie Hank »eemed to look upon his ■bare of the feast as an especial treat, aud alter it was disposed of his longue ran more glibly :bau ever. At length Ins graudsire suspended fir a moment a morsel of beet raised to his mouth, ind uttered s word of reproof “Henry, my boy, it is not right that the childien should talk and the grown ones listen. Remember, vou should be very Rood to-mght, They say that Sauls t'laus to bad boys is no: kind.” “But see,” retorted the lad quickly. “I was good before and what did he bring me? Nothing 1 wanted a wind Chester aud he brought me a tin wag on.” “The child would be a man before his time,” putin his grandmother. “He talks of noihing but guus; ami if he had (hem be would kill us all, and him •elf in tho bargain,” “I would be a brave soldier—like my father,” said the boy, his eyes fllliog with tears. “And be killed by the Indians, as was he,” responded the old ranthmau. “My child, the Grimms have been sol- dieis since the earliest days. I hsve i fought, io my time, wuh brave men to" lead me on to battle, and I tell you there is uothiug in soldiering—nothing but hard work and slavery and blood- death afore that Hants Chius was an Arks.u- saw man.” .—c—" ■ Wells turned from the excited boy and approached the open window. Be low it, and directly to the right, the whitewashed walls were tgrp and dis figured with shot, and there Were great splotches and dark, trickling streams of something like red paint shining in the light of the lamp; Hetumed to (he old ' German; his le but collected. You "hill not need the dog,” said he.' “Tho man who tumbled through that window le lying where he fell— and 1 think 1 will recognize him when Ltee him.” Wells was right m both bis surmises. In “layiu’ for Santa Claus” Little Hunk nad taken a step that no midnight mar auder could have foreseen. In forciug au entry to Grimm’s ranch, the Mex ican goat-heidor, who had trailed Weils all the way from McKaveti, had gone directly to his death. He lay outside the window, as he had fallen when the bulk of two loads ot buckshot had struck him, and when Little Hank gazed into his dead face, its; allor more ghastly still io the lamplight, ho sert-am- ed and staggered back, covering his eyes with trembling hands. “I don’t want to be a soldier,” he soblied. “I never want to kill another m&n as long as I live.” But his sturdy, old granddam—deeceuded, no doubt, l rom a long line of warlike Teutons— look bim in her strong arms consohngy. “But this man was a robber, my dear. Killing was his deserts, for he came to murder us all io our aleep. You saved our lives, and now would vou turn coward and make usaaham- One New Ye*R> Eve. “It was not a brave deed,” growled old Grimm. “The boy thought to aboot Santa Claus aud killed a lazy thief of a Mexican instead. It was a bull’s-eye on the wrong target and no honoris won. Still, I gni alad it haa happened, for it may frighten his boyish mind from this folly about soldier-life and guus.” And so Kris Kringlc did not visit the ranch that night, and Little Hank had to wait for his rifle—but not, as it chanced, so very long, after all. Ar riving without farther incident at hia destination. Wells first care was to visit iho different guuslores of San Antonio upon an errand the nature of which can be easily guessed. On New team’s Eve the McKavett stage halted at Grimm’s ranch u> deliver a package, and a few.minutes later the heart of the younger Hank was beating high with elation. Snugly packed iu a neat box lay two guns—a tiny winchester and a liitht breech-loading shotgun. It was a present fit for a king, and costlier one than Jack Wells’ slim purse could h-ve stood unaided; but his employers had been tola how their thousai d* were saved and graciously donated two per cent, of the entire amount towards rewarding the princi pal actor in that Christmas Eve trag edy at the “Two Boot ranch.” SKILLFUL HOUSEKEEPINp. Editor Southern Parmer: - Did you ever think what an educa tor and benefactor a good well kept home was 1' We usually think only of iu preheat inmates, how comfortable the home wife and motbei made it for ihe family, she being a housekeeper and home-maker ;is well, but the good work goes on and ou, it descends to lh^.ihini generation often. The sous inherit and imbibe a taste for neat sur roundings also, and carry it into thei- homes where they become the heads of families, theieby saving them many a discomfort by their neat, thoughtful way aud method. The moat important item iu a home is a well kept table, au attractive one day after day, daintily laid and served. It refines as nothing else in a home does, both with girls and boys. You must have a snowy white cloth .ai napkin*,- no red table cloths or cloths will suffice to make 'his attrac tive table. It will take more washing; cost a little more, but iu the end the ST: The swish of a blue dross, s faint breath of violets, as in passing, and he felt rather than saw Marie Hummer- field go by. Standing ^ little apart from the knots of merry you tig people thronging Ibe pleasant rooms, he was conscious of a thread of pain running through the last night of the old year, touching only Miss Summerfleld and himself. By he, I mean Leigh Beyburn, the owner of the old fashioned, low-roomed grange beneath whose roof the young people of Gladbrook had gathered to keep a merry watchnigbt. With music and laughter and gay repartee they meant to dance a welcomk to the joyous New Year without much thought for the staid old twelve-mouth which had served them so faithfully. But Leigh moved uneasily, sending imploring glances after the blue grown, all to no purpose. Marie was absorbed with the fascinating company of Mau rice Duveniiort, and Was smiling her sweetest—and Marie could smile di vinely—and entertaining him admita- bly. , . ‘ * Beyburn was thinking hard, and, it must be confessed, uncharitably.. Had he worshiped and petted and lived for Miss Summerfleld these two blessed sunlit years, totfcve 'KepS kadliappi- ness go into tho gaave of the frail old year leaving nothing but memories? What was that I(-<tie was singing to the sweet toned guitar she held so dain tily, strapped in place with a blue rib and? “Bing out the old, ring in the new; The year is dying, let it go; Bing in the new; riog in the new.” Her voice seemed to falter a little on the repeat as it fell U> a soft cadence. Was it possible she was thinking of the old so tenderly—the old love, for in stance? Ah! well, he did not know. • •••••• The yule log had burned out a week ago, but he had uot the heart to taae up fie silvery ashes from tho old, rad bnck hearth as yet. Ever since that other night he had kept hia vow and closed his doors to all merriment lor two long years. But somehow the lads and lassies of Gladbrook bad lain their sympathies on his door-stoue and work ed themselves into his good graces once more, and before be realized what be was doing he had given up the silent rooms again to a C’hrtitmns party. But no more New Year frolics under his roof, he said; not until—well, maybe— He stopped short in his musings: still the remnant of Ibe mistletoe hung in the bracket woik of tbe old chandelier and he remembered now, as be Iboked at it, how pure aud fnir Alicia Merrill looked when Ueimau Mom rose kissed ber beneath its potent s|>eU a week ago. She put biio in mind, O, so much, of her. Covering his eyes for a moment with trembling hind, he went to the window aud looked out While and glistening as an angel's wing lay tbe suow ou the intervening fields. Over .there was her house, but she bad been away now for a long time studying music, and ho had beard, for she did not write to him, that her voice was simply divine, and as a* musician *she was wonderful. Nevertheless, it was n night like this, nodding toward the flooding moon light outside, that they—lie aud she— had their misuodersUDdiug. A spasm of paic crossed his flue face sod he caught his hresth s little. He could not tell just how il came about, never clearly umleistanding, but that night so much like this, and New Year’s Eve, loo, marked the beginning of their diverging paths. Aud he bad heard of diverging paths which came togeth er again after awhile 1 To-morrow was the glad New Year again. Would its happy greetings be •nly mockery to him? Suddenly a thought, which bad smouldered in his miud for days, flash ed mi itke a gleam of heavenly light, radiating his whole being. She was coming home to-night on the late train; and he was so hungry to see her; only God kneif how famished awnyin his pockets sod in the buck skin bug at his feet. Il was a large sum of money and he naturally fdt the iesponslbility its possession invovl- ed. John Wells was by do means a coward, but be was perfectly acquaint ed with the country and its people, and knew that the chance of acquiring one- tenth the amount he carri^i would be eufllcienrio prompt many of Ibe latter to murder. He had been particularly struck with the villainous face aud sus picious demeanor of the goal-herder, and the uneasiness aroused by the little incident of the morning hung over him during (he entire day. WiUiout making bis usual noonday halt, he drove steadily on, occasionally glancing liack^over the dim trail, iu momentary expection of finding him self pursued. However, evening came without anything having transpired to increase his alarm, aud an hour before darkness closed down upon the bleak plains he drew rein before (be door of a lone ranch and, without-the useless preliminary of applying for accommo dations, began divesting his tired bonus of the harness. As he unhooked the tugs of the off horse, a owheaded urchin of eight ot nine years came stroliug up from the near-by corral, crept into the buggy seat aud drew the blankets over his bead until ouly his bojiah face and sparkling eyes were visible. “What’s your name, mister?” be asked, with cUidlike directness. “Jack Wells. What’s >oura?” “Hank Grimm. I’m only Little Hank. Old Hank is my gran’paw, and he owns tins ranch. The Mexicans call this ‘Dos Solas Bauch,’ cau«e gran’ paw gives the two boot brand. Hay, mister, do yon know who I ' you mought be when you driv’ lip?” passengers leave the “Now for the bridal party, at least the bride and groom,” he said, trying lo be joculsr with himself although his face was very white and his mouth twitched nervously. At the cry “traUvtrain,” everybody' began to bustle about. Friends, bag gage and good-byes wero mixed up in- discriminately, but Leigh was very still. He could hear his anxious heart beat out its suspense in great suffocating leaps, as the fateful tiain thundered in. Bure enough, there wee Miss Hu n- merfield; and the flne-Iooktug yoiiag man who helped her alight also took charge of her baggage. Heaven have tuerci! Were gossip and Joe Antrim right, after all? But. pshaw I any chivalrous fellow traveler would have done as much. Notwithstanding this plausible thought, Leigh slipped into,the home- bouud Coach like a thief, taking the corner seat in the rear end of the car. When Miss Summertieie came in, the terrible groom-to-be, to whom the bridal party had dwindled, even he was not in attendance. Marie earned her own “grip.” The man felt a tremor of hope quiver all over him, somelhing like an electric current. She took tliS,third seat from the door and leaned her head otf nefhand wearily. A strange air for a bride, thought the man in the corner He could nol^fte ber face, but some way he ieltthat this New Year’s Eve was not what she wished. O, was she iu trouble, too? He had half a mind lo go to her; the seat directly behind her was providentially empty; he cou.d whisper “Marij” over tp9 back of her seat when his courage warranted it. At the next stop be took advantage of the stir of the passengers aud slq ped into the coveted groove. Blessed privilege! He bad not been near, so near her lor years, and his heart was on fire'. When he could wail no longer, be whispered over the barrier: “Marie 1” She looked up, surprised and startled. After the confusion had left her lovely fa^e, she gave him her band gingerly and asked in strained tones: How came you here, Mr. Be) burn?” “I coukl uot help it,” he confessed, flushing but looking straight' at her. “1 wanted to be near you once more. You don’t,know how miserable I am without Theresas a world of emotion in the undertone, but he kept bravily on: “I came down to Bockitnd for nothing else thro that 1 might get ghrapes of you. 1 felt it would com fort me to ride home In the san e coach —to-night of aV nights. Ho stopped and looked at her in such a pitiful, hungry hearted way. It was all out now, tins confession of his. He meant to make it at the risk of every thing before his bean failed him—and he had done so. Of course she could do whit she pleased with it, and him, too, he had staked and would win, or lose, all. Pul ting his elbow on tbe barrier and lean lug a little toward her, he, waited for her to speak. And her face was study. Presently she gasped out: “Then you aren’t to be married to night?” Tbe interrogation snapped the last thiead holding Leigh Bey burn’s gteat love in reserve. “Mane, darling ! Could you—did you think—O, Heaven I as if 1 could love anyone but you ! O, Marie l” The whiteness oi his face was terri ble to see ; but it all dawued upon her at out-e. “I—I—O, Leigh !”—she put out both her hands, and two great 'tears stole down her cheeks to finish the sen tence more eloquently than words. When tbe train stopped at Gtad- brook, a very happy couple alighted. And out across the moonlit snow, from the belfry bars of the gray stone church came the meny chime of bells : “Bing out tbe old, ring iu the new ; The year is dying ; let it go.” “Ring In the new,” said Leigh,draw ing her arm through his. “The years of mi8under*tao(kug are dead ; lei them go, dearest. THE COST OF RAISING COTTON* A receni issue of The Tarboro Southerner had this item : “Colton does not coet 10 cents a pound to raise, nor 5 cents, for thatr matier. Farming'with cotton at 5 cents a pound, or even a little less, is a most profitable investment. We have in our ‘mind a farm in this county —of 600 to 800 acre*, valued for taxation at $5,600—which lari year netted in round numbers $3,600. This is no es timate ; it is the sum which the two conducting the farm divided as profits. They will ao better this year. The Sta(e»ville Landmark copies the above and comments upon it thut: “There is no sort of question, al though the fact is frequently disputed, that cotton cau be raised at a profit even when sold at a very low price. U all depends upon the men and their method of doing business. Some farmers, doubtless, would raise cotton at a loss if il sold for 15 cents per pound, while others will make a pr. lit even when it sells for 5 cents. Our reader* will recall that a year ago there was much discussion anent the statement of Mr. E. W. Brawley, of this county, that he raised his crop of cotton that year at a cost of 2 cents •per pound. That Mr. Brawley did this no one who knows bim will lor an in slant doubt, but do one will assert that all cotton can be raised for 2 cents pound, even if an effort is made.” Our contemporaries bad better have a care. The Observer had a good deal to say, about a year ago, ah jut the ex perieuce of Mr. Btawley, referred to above, in the .raising of cotton, gave details of his method in fanning and a statement of the expense! of his crop —all this as an encouragement to oth ers and tA show the possibilities in cot ton-raising in North Carolina. For our pains we had it said that Mr. Brawley did not do anything of the kiud that he professed, aud that if the Observer were not an enemy of the farmers it would not be priuliog such stuff, which was done, it was said, to make out that the farmers were get ting too rich and lo give the specula tors an excuse for reducing prices. Obst.rer, Charlotte, N. C. All of which goes to show that grow ing, cotton is jnst like growing other crops. The man who is content to go along in the ruts of his grandfather and plant cotton year after year ou the same furrows his grandfather planter it in when the soil was fresh, and who now finds that it takes four acres or more to grow srhat bis grandfather got from one acre, a^d what men like Mr. Brawley get from less than an acre caoroi See bow cotton can be grown for less than 6 to 8 cents per pound There are men all over the South who are so ignorant {>f ihe laws of trade that they imagine that if it was ?eu erally known that il doea not cost au improving tanner 5 cents per pound lo grow cotton, ihtt right away the spec ulators would pul the pnee down stii lower. Wo admit that there is too much gambling in futures in all of our fsrm crops. But the movements of the buyers of futures ar<e pretty wei indicative of the probable demand for ihe staple. They are merely specu ting on demand and supply, and the laws of supply aud demand govern the price of cotton as well as of wheal ant corn. It is ouly when some great combine like the Americao Tobacco Company gets the entire control of a product that the laws of supply aud de mand do U'4 govern the price of tHV product. But wbst we want to get at and what the extracts we have quolet show, is that good farming with cotton pays as well as good farming with oth er crops of the farm, and that even during the era of low-priced cotton there are men all over the coiton belt who have made money io growing cot ton. As lately remarked in tbste col umns the South needs good farmin|; more than visionary schemes to force a reduction of coiton acreage. The acreage should be reduced, but it wil never bo done by conveDa|pns an< agreements. It will only be done when men find that they can grow rooru cot tti u xnr: grow with out Potash. very bUder of 1 rass, every grain of Corn, all Fruits and Vegetables must have it If enough is supplied you can count on a full crop— if too little, the growth will be , “ . r • * , “scrubby.” Send for our books telling all about composition o| / fertilizer* bat adapted for all crop*. They cat you GERMAN KALI WORKS, 93 Nassau St., New YoA, “Couldn’t guess. thought mebby It was Santa , but then I allow he’s got more whukers'n you have. Hull, he mought “I Claus nyou ha: have shaved.” ^ Wells admitted that Santa Claus mkbt, by way of change, conclude to meke hie Annual trip with a bund of three weeks growth, or even e smoothly shaven face. Further than that he ooelden’t under the circumstances, Little Hank for looking upon ell Little Hank were euugiy stowed away in the latier’s bed, the ques^on of Banla Claus and the “'wind :hester” came up again, but do lengthy discus sion followed. / It must have been sometime after midnight when Wells was partially aroused by tbe knowledge that some one was moving in the room, and called out to know whi it might be. “Nobody but me—Hank Grimm. Nolgnm’paw, but the little one You know—” But that was quite enough ior the somnolent gentleman from San Autocio. If the sentence Was finished hte failed to hear jla conclusion. Sometime afterwards, however, he was aroused again; and this time so thoroughly that he beard and under stood tbe words that awoke him. They evidently came from the “living room” into which hia apartment opened, and were uttered at the top of Little Hank’s childish treble. “Thar now, Santa Claui. I’ve got you ibis time, and either that wind cheater cilines or I downs vour meal- house. No tin wagons for me this Christmas.” There was a fierce curse grittingly muttered; the sharp crack of a pistol; aud then—boom! boom;—two thunder ous reports almost ..a one, shaking the adobe walls of the ranch 10 their inund ations. A dense volume of smoke roll ed into the sleeping reomf hub Wells charged through it with ready rifie, reaching the outer apartment just as old Grimm entered from another door light in band. Little Hank lay beneath the huge table, groining dismally and rubbing bis shouldt r. Otherwise the room was thought Jupoccupred; but *. .oearUha. door has open, and on the. hard dirt floor lay • freshly discharged pistol and a Mexican sombrero. “It is rol berS'that have been he 0,” exclaiiui »ba led the ranchman. “It is Mexican robbers, and they have shot my boy I” Wells dived beneath die table, brought forth the injured lad and placed h:m tenderly iu a chair; but he at once struggled to his feet. “Turn loose the dog, gran’paw, or be will gR awav. It’s H*nu Claus, and I’m blam ed if be didn’t miss ose'wiih his pistol with oa eye of suspicion; but right slap iu my face. I never knowed to obtain this attract ion. I call to mind one who was reared in it dainty way, not rich, but living well at home always. She married a man who had a small income, but she managed lo keep up the ideal iu her little home. Hhe washed her own table linen and napkins -and embroidered pieces aud (by the way) she gave me her direc lions and as they weie faultless I’ll tell you her method which was simple gtiough. She never allowed them to gel much soijed before washing. Then she prepared a warm suds of pearljne and rubbed quickly with ber hands, rinsed through two waters, made a light starch, and ironed while damp, never removing from the ironing board until perfectly dry. Her liitle embroidered pieces were ironed cn the wrong side while damp, but washed in the same way and they were marvels of white ness* She never attempted to do this wii It other ciothes and washed one or two ouly at a time.' Her lamps were kept shining like crystals, and her dishes shone with cleanness and the attractive home was a joy. It was her training at home that made her what she was. As her young daughter grew up, and I was there many times when her mother had left her in charge, she followed directly iu her mi tber’s foot steps. It is a blessing to have sucb traiuiog. 1 know that daughters do uot always take after their motheis, aud with all their expostulations, will be untidy and careless. Yet as a general rule they do not depart from their tea* hiug aud daily surroundings. They say to judge a good house keeper you have ouly to look at her lamps. .Iftbaaeare-ieftaH-dsjrdingy, to be'filled after night, and the^ «bim? ney cleaned you may know her meth ods are mi good. Tl»?re are many excuses tb.be mode in these d*J* of inefficient help Rod delicate mothers and housekeepers. We should all be charitable, and bej,p each other to lighten the others burden, and if we bear or know ol an easier way fell them ; take (he trouble to ex tend our knowledge, gained in the -chool of experience peihapa. We owe it in aisiei ly love and neighboiiy affec tion to help each other along the rough patha. ' 1 , ■ -“f i rearx for Gladbrook. No one could prevent bim from riding home in the same coach with her; and even (hit would be a blessed comfoat. Then, maybe, somelhing would come of it. Who knew? / .. In 15 minutes he was inside his great coat and locking the. hall door, with a nervous, glad excitem<nt stealing over him, like the coming of a new day. A len-minutes’ walk brought him to the station. 1 “Going away for the New Year?” queried the agent, pleasantly, hand mg Reyburn the required pasteboard. “O, a little way,” he replied, absent ly, pulling,ou his gloves. Scarely had he aettled himself in the outward-bound train than Joe Antrim thumped bim on the shouldfir and sang out: “Hullo! going away on a blow out, I suppose? Well, so ami. Some are going away, and some are coming home.” In the awkward silence which fol lowed Joe’s voluble introduction, he seemed to read Reyhurp’s thoughts, for, without looking furl her for rteply, he began: “Miss Summerfleld is coming to-night, they say; and they say, too, that she is bringing her best fellow with her. Gladbrook looks for a wedding at the Summerfield|home to morrow. But, of course, 1 don’t know; it is only gossip, uuyhp>” Having thus delivered himself, Joe Antrim, without waiting for yeply, be took himself to tbe smoker, leaving Beyburn iu just the slate of mind in tended, half-way between iniauity aud desperate*intent. t But by and by Beyburo’s mind clear est o Joe’s last sentence; Only gossip. fifiHi itiat mean to.hoah it over, to him of. all persons, and iu such an iusinaating manner, too. Well, he would goon to Bockland now if he met her com plete bridal party; he would sea for himself, aud if It was all true, why, he wburt n d go home that qight, and per haps Saulbiook would never see him -. £ ./ *' At Bocklpnd he had only a few min utes to wait between Uams.and already he home-bound one was wailing on a tide-t ack. Pu'chasirg his ticket, lie himself where he could TTappITy. And Joe Autrim laughed in his sleeve, and said to the bright New Year morning : “I sm glad I set those two simpletons right by a bit of strategy. A little prevarication, ahem I But all is fair iu love and war.” AN OBJECT LESSON FABMEBS. FOB The Omaha World-Herald says that last spring a Nebraska farmer, having some wheat in his bios'ahd needing some barbwire to fence in a pasture, went to a hardware deader iu his mar. ket town and said : “I want to get 600 pouuds'of barbed wire, but have no ready cash. How ever, 1 have some wheat, which is worth 50 cents i«er bushel. How many i million people, with , 1 | ■ record of ninety- eight cures in every other crops e|ough to pay all the ex. 1 euous peases of U^$arm sod more and leavc| the cotlou a real money crop, uo uiau ter what the market price may be.— PracticaPFarmer. An apple tree 125 years pride of North Haven, Me. old is the mere la to-day a crying need of a ref ormation in the treatment of the body The baaii of this reformation ia to be found in the theaia of Dr. R. V. Pierce : " Dis eases which originate in the stomach must be cured throngh the stomach.’* . In the thirty odd years of Dr. Pierce's experience as chief consulting physician to the Invalids’ Hotel and Surgical Institute in Buffalo, N. V., he has treated more than half a bushels of wheat must I bring to town 1 to sell for enough to pay you cosh for for the^wira.?i»^ 3 r “Barb wire is worth $2.50 per hun dred. If you want to trade ’wheat for that much srire you haul in twenty, seven and.six-tenths bushels of wheat.” Circumstances over which he had no control prevented the farmer from hauling out the wire at that time. But last week the same farmer went to the j same hardware dealer and said : i “I could’t get around to that deal last spring, but I’m ready for it now. i I’ll haul m twenty-seven and six-tenths bushels of wheat tomorrow and get that. 600 pounds of wire.” “Ah, but you’ll have to haul in more hundred. The theory; held by Dr. Pierce; that the stomach is< the chief breeding] place of disease, is] abundantly borne' out by the success of hia treatment which ia addressed primarily to the atomach and other organs of digestion and nutrition. - No other medicine acts so powerfully and as perfectly on the stomach and other organs of di gestion artd nutrition, os Dr. Pierce’s Golden j Medical Discovery. Men and women af flicted with shortness of breath, heait dis ease, suffocation, dizziness, spots before the eyes, “liver pains,” and similar ailments PITT’S Mi: Imp*! Cures dyspepaia, indigestion, and all stomach or bowel troubles, colic or cholera morbus, teething troubi ■ with children, kidney troubles, bod blood and all sorts of sores,'risings or felons, cuts and burns-. It ia as good antiteptie, when locally applied, as any thing on the market. Try It and vou will praise it to others If your druggist doesn’t keep it, write to A Pitts’ Antiseptic Invigorator Co. THOMSON, QA- or CARPENTER BROS., Greenville, S. C. XV* For sale by druggist* everywhere. A" RESTAUBANT FOR BIRDS. “I intend driving out to see Uncle Olto to-day,” said Mr. Marcy, at the breakfast-table. “Who would like to take a sleigh-ride with me?” and he looked straight into Kitty’s eyes. “Ob, I would like to papa I” said Kitty, quickly. “May I ?” . “If mamma thinka best,” Mr. Marcy answered, and as mamma was willing, Kilty was soon putting on warm wraps and preparing ior her five-mile drive. Uncle Utto Hved trpdn the State ex- perimrn'al farm, wbereriie studied the birds and iusecls. and then told the farmers about them, and how to get rid of those that destroyed the crops ; and a visit to bim was always full of interest ta Kitty. Indfad, she thought there never c »uld be another uncle qUite so nice as Uncle Otto. Kitty lived in Minnesota, where they sometimes have a great deal of sn»w in the winter, and this year there bad been an uuusua. amount. The sleighing was fine, and ihe country seemed so clean and pretty that Kitty could not help exclaiming aa they sped along, for tu the city !$e snow was dirty, and here everything was white aawnew ought lo be. The drifts wefe' piled high on either side of the somewhat narrow road, and when they met a team, papa bad to turn out very carefully in order to avoid upsetting the sleigh. Rut Kitty thought it all great fuo, and helped lean over when necessary to kuep-the sleigh lialanced. “I wonder what Uncle Otto will have new to show me this lime,” said Kilty, as they caught the first sight of the large buildings which told her that they were nearly at tbe end of their ride. “He always has something different from whet anybody else would have,” she added, “and I learn some thing every time I come out here.” “1 wonder too,” answered papa. And then be drove up to the house aud Uucle Otto himself came out and bnMi^ht with him a large covered bas ket, and he went out toward the great grove of oak-trees which extended for „uu iuuu wouia no* digest, men rtney and liver trouble, and my back got so wk I could scarcely get around. At last I had I these at once, and I gave money to the doc- wheat than that,” replied the hard- _ ware dealer. • j have been promptly and perfectly cured by “Why ?•” queried the - farmer. ] .$*- n S?. . of J §oiden Medical BwcavwyJl - just aa much sow as - tho ^ * ^ c cotum- it was last spring*”. ^ “Very true,” -replied the dealer, “but Ibe wire la *Rrorth more. It* has gone from $2.50 per hundred to»$3.7jQ per hundred.” _ “Wire hae gone up anti wheat re mained down ?” asked the farmer. “The wire trust.” The farmer walked out in a thought ful mood. He was thinking low pros perous ha waa when what lie sells re mains stationary or decreases iu price, while tbe prices of what he must buy keep going up. - * ' " I { sick with severe headache, then cramps in the stomach, and my food would not digest, then kidoe J * 1 --- —^ • - - weak all these at once, and I gave money to tors whenever I thought they would do me any good, but the more f doctored the worse T g5t until aix years passed. I had become ao poorly walk ia the bouse by the aid of a I could only ly HE _ Chair, and t got ao thin I bad rtan* ■> tolu thinking that I could not be cored. Then I saw use of my neighbors, who said, • Take my sd- Hce^and uae Dr Pierce's Golden Medical Dia- "“kea new man out of youraelf' The Ena bottle helped me and alter I had takes eight I waa weighed and found I had gained rj pounds 1 have done more hard woA in the nut eleven months than 1 did ia two yanra be- healthy today .ad do not feel l cannot give Dr. PtaW, edical Discovery too much prsfeo. branch of which was hanging a loosely coiled wire. Then be opened his basket and took cut uomelhiug White and round like a ball. “What is that, Uncle Otto?” asked Kitty, “ That is mutton sutet,” he answered. Then he uncoiled the wire, placed the suet tm the branch and bound it se curely with the wire. “Now,” he added, turning tp Kiltv, “one table is spread for dinuer.” “Oh,” said Kiily, suddenly, “)ou do it for the birds ?” “Yes, indeed,” UncleOtlo returned. “You see there are lots of cold- weather birds who do uot leave us through the long winter, and when the snow gels very deep they have a hard time to find enough - to eat; then be sides, when it is very cold indeed, ns it hfi* been lately, they need some kind of food which will produce h|&t iu their little bodies, and the muttqn suet does just that. So when I began to think bow deep the fault of their train ing and so do not blame them so much. At any rate, I would not want eveu the naughty ones to go hungry J’ “But bow do they know so soon that their dinner is ready ?’’ Kilty asked. “I have come *o believe,” answered Uncle Otto, “that some of them watch for me, and when they sefe me they soon notify tho others IhAt dinner is ready by calling, for only a few days after I began pulling out the suet for them, I noticed the noire, ami that they all gathered very quickly after. I went away. So I have t ome to tho conclusion that they look for me, and know that 1 am manager of their rea- lauraut.” Kilty, laughed heartily. “Wha. a funoy Wea !”- she said. Ami then after a mofaaenr she added, “I believe I’M atari R restaurant on a small scale at home. I like to see tbe birds around, and it would be such fun to watch them. But, do you know,” she udded, “I never thought before about the deep snow making it hard for them to find enough to eat. If I cannot have a restaurant 1 will have a lunch coun ter.” —It is said that the tobacco crop of WlrooDtla for this year ia worth l$fi,063,00.