I ' ?? b ' CANDIDATES APPEAL FOR VOTES P BAMBERG COUNTY DEMOCRATS. (Continued from page 6, column 2.) the lieutenant governor and said that his past work amply qualified him to serve in that capacity, and he had always been positive and outv. spoken in the house on all questions. Dr. E. C. L. Adams, Columbia physician, said that if elected he would * - always strive for the best interests of S the people as he sees them. He advocated a readjustment of the tax x ?? AnrrV? foiTArO system, ana sirangeij. euuu&u good roads, common schools and ink stitutions of higher learning. He is f a former student of Clemson and a P graduate of the Medical college of this state, the friend of law and the foe of crime. He stands ready to en^ force all laws without fear or favor. ? He referred to his former defeat for x* lieutenant governor and recounted his services in the Spanish-Ameri| v can and world wars, y . E. B. Jackson, Aiken county banker, farmer and business man, ,peri haps made the best appearance of . ^ ; v the candidates for lieutenant goverky nor, and tickled the ladies slightly ' y by saying he was glad they could vote because the political atmosphere : X' the state needs improved morals . and uplifting and the ladies will furf Dish the solution and power for |?6od. Being a farmer he is familiar with the condition of the masses and nnailri \T/vK/xdr fifln L * lUCIf UCCUO iivi/vuj VM** r j have a grander ambition than to L \ serve and he is desirous of serving in the capacity of helping the agri. ' v. cultural interests in their problems. ^ In private life he has materially I tried, to help the farmers and is the v first banker in South Carolina to v lend money to the farmers at six . ' per cent, interest. And he said that k I , in this way he had saved his own p i community and people thousands of / dollars. 'He said we are going to ^ have a lawyer for governor, why not i a successful business man and farmer for lieutenant governor? "They I say I'm a new man 'in politics, but I declare to you I think we need some new men," chimed Mr. Jackson. He ha .io-nnrance nf Smith Carolina OaiU V4 UU w is costing more than its schools, and so he wishes to see more better paid > teachers and less deputy sheriffs will 1 , result, and he believes in education and Christianity as a means to the end of law enforcement and respect. Too.many feel above the law; create , a sentiment of law enforcement and back it up with the right kind of offi" cers. He believes in economy, but .'constructive and not destructive economy. He wishes taxes equally - distributed and assessed. Mr. Jack1 ~ son was well received. ; ? i The six candidates for state *sup! . / erintendent of education next f * spoke, and this contest was featured by the only two lkdy candidates and ' > hv ? heated attack of the incumbent, [ J. E. Swearingen, of Edgefield, upon I his opponent, J. H. Hope, of Union, w and the retaliation of Mr. Hope, who I . . appeared to have the better of the day, I Mr. Swearingen apparently losing his temper as he usually does when anyfr .. body refused to bow to his autocratic ideas, or dares, to oppose his wishes.^ * The two ladies are Mrs. E. B. Wal^ - lace, of Columbia, and Mrs. BesI sie Rogers Drake, of Benk nettsville. Each impressed her ^list? ' eners with a beautiful flow of lani guage and convinced all that with ; < her tactful oratory she could well ; * ? take care of herself Tfith the best of them throughout the campaign. The ' - * * ' - - m other two candidates ior mis uuiue, ' Cecil H. Seigier, of Aiken, and O. D. Seay, of Richland, also spoke. ^ W. Banks Dove, lawyer, of Fair\ field county, candidate for the nomi'"j, nation for secretary of state to suc^ ceed himself, says that he has been r in . the ofiice for six years and consequently knows more about the duties of the office than a new man s " cpuld. He reviewed his record with pride, and points to the court house I officials and lawyers to tell the people whether he has done his duty or * not, or whether he has been prompt, ^ ' courteous and simplified the corporation laws. He protects the domestic corporations as against the foreign, and asks reelection solely 1 An Vvic ro^nrH Z * uu mo A wv/? s James C. Dopier, of Rock Hill, en, tered into a condemnation of politics as filthy and dirty. He referred to his education, early training and |v world war service, but it must be said to Mr. Dozier's credit that although he has probably a more enviable war record than any South Carolina soldier, including innumerable citations for bravery, the congressional medal, highest award of this government, French, Belgian and British medals, for valiant service on the field of honor, he failed montirm tViPQe farts or to advertise VV/ "JVUV1WU VAAWWV - them here at all. He said he had been in the banking and insurance . business and is an expert book keeper, and went on to say that he didn't 4 tell all he knew about the race because he is no mud slinger. Asks for rotation in office as Democracy favors and sponsors it although he w* admits that Mr. Dove has made an efficient officer. He said that shortly r before the campaign opened he was i called by politicians from Columbia and a bribe offered him, the office of lieutenant governor, if he would withdraw from the race for secretary of state, but that he declined and resented such tactics. Samuel M. Wolfe, of Anderson, candidate for reelection as attorney I general, rendered thanks for his I votes here two years ago. He said it j was remarkable that at the last moment two young men who probably never had a case in court should come out against him. If'his administration had been inefficient it would seem that he would be faced by an able opponent. He flayed his opponents for being young, inexperienced and unbroken. It would pay him to retire to private practice, but he has the ambition to serve his state by completing the litigation now on hand in his office mentioning several big cases. D. M. Winter, of Columbia, stated that he was running solely on his merits and not on the demerits of the attorney general. He deals not in personalities, he says, but he does strongly assail the pitiful record of the incumbent in the attorney general's office and ripped it up mighty forcefully. He mentioned his own stand for four years in the legislature and closed by asserting that he could better uphold and maintain the dignity of the law than had been done in that office, and if given the opportunity and he did not do so he would willingly step down and out of his own accord. H. C. Eubanks, of Columbia, admitted his youth, but said he had made more money in the two years he had practiced law than Wolfe had in the 41 years of his life, and then launched into a bitter attack upon Wolfe and the conduct of the office, saying that the present attorney general- could not conduct a big case in court but always employed outside counsel in every important case. He made several sharp and sarcastic thrusts at his opponents and displayed considerable emotion aroused throughout his speech. Walter E. Duncan, newspaper man of Aiken, asked for consideration of his record as comptroller general for the past two years, and lor .election Oil mac, sajiug mat uo was not given to oratory as a specialty, so he could only discuss in a business like manner his doings in office already. He referred all voters I to any county official working in connection with his office, and has nothing to say for the tax commission, which is.no baby of his. He scored his opponent for being removed as auditor of Hampton county. T. Hagood Gooding, former Hampton county auditor, then took to the platform and explained to the satisfaction of some his removal from office by saying that the senator from bis county tricked him and through sheer partisanship refused to present his name to the senate for confirmation. He told of 178 of Duncan's home voters out of ap | proximately 550 at Aiken scratching him without* opposition at the time of his former nomination. He narrated his unsurpassed qualifications for the office of comptroller general, lauding them as being much better than Duncan's. The crowd dwindled gradually as the speeches wore on, but the audience was not at all small even when Mr. Gooding, the last speaker, concluded, and one thing is certain, if they all told the truth about themselves on that stump then during the next two years we are going to enjoy a state government magnificently managed in South -Carolina, and if they all told the truth about the other .fellow, then heaven help us. - - * -L - ? ^ Pick your choice, ana voie ior mc best man. Congressman Jimmy Byrnes, without opposition, was none the less on the scene of action, and at the conclusion was called upon for a speech, j but in his usual diplomatic manner ! he replied that he thought it was | bad enough for the people to have to listen to him when he had an opponent, so he would not keep them longer at this time with any more .hot air than they had already imbibed during the day. And thus endeth the chapter. Scholastic ; ts, "What's the matter? You look thoughtful." "My six-year-old son brought home a list of questions to answer." "What of that?" "My average ranks me as a deficient kid."?Louisville CourierJournal. Geagraphical Sisters. Miss Rose asked her eighth grade: "What are the sister states?" Mabel answered: "I am not sure, but I Should think they were Miss Ouri, Ida Ho, Mary Land, Callie For"io T./miioo Anna Delia Ware. Minne I LiiCl, JLJVUlkJU ? f Sota, and Mrs. Sippi."?The St. Cloud (Minn.) High School Mascot. MARY?MARIE. i ("Continued from page 3, column 6.) J i four (lays bringing this autobiography ] of Mary Marie's to an end. I've en- l loved doing it,_ in a way, though _T11 i have to admit I can't see as it's made 1 things any clearer. But, then, it was ! clear before. There isn't any other way. I've got to write that letter. As j I said before, I regret that it must be \ so sorry an ending. I suppose tomorrow I'll have to tell l Mother. I want to tell her, of course, i before I write the letter to Jerry. i It'll grieve Mother. I know it wilL j And I'm sorry. Poor Mother! Already she's had so much unhappiness in her life. But she's happy now. She and Father are wonderful together?wonderful. Father is still president of the college. He got out a wonderful book on the "Eclipses of the Moon" two years ago, and he's publishing another one about the "Eclipses of the Sun" this year. Mother's correcting proof for him. Bless her heart She loves it She told me so. Well, I shall have to tell her tomorrow, of course. TOMORROW ?WHICH HAS BECOME TODAY. I wonder if Mother knew what I had come into her little sitting-room this morning to say. It seems as if she must have known. And yet? I had wondered how I was going to begin, but/ before I knew it, I was right in the middle of it?the subject I mean. That's why I thought perhaps that MotherBut I'm getting as bad as little Mary Marie of the long ago. ni try now to tell what did happen. I was wetting my lips, and swallowintr onri wnnrtprlnc how I was going 1 u_Lb, uuu 0 _ ? _ to begin to tell her that I was planning t not to go back to Jerry, when all of a i sudden I found myself saying some- 1 thing about little Eunice. And then j Mother said: "Yes, my dear; and that's what com- ? forts me most of anything?because t you are so devoted to Eunice. You see, I have feared sometimes?for you and r Jerry; that you might separate. But I I know, sn account of " .unice, that you t never will." I "But Mother, that's the very reason?I mean, it would be the* reason/ i I stammered. Then I stopped. My ( tongue just wouldn't move, my throat J and lips were so dry. But Mother was speaking again. 1 "Eunice?yes. You mean that you 1 never would make her go through what * you went through when you were her ( ?: ( age. "Why, Mother, I?I?" And then I 5 stopped again. And I was so angry 1 and indignant with myself because I 1 had to stop, when there were so many, * many things that I wanted to say, if only my dry lips could articulate the 3 words. . ~ ? 1 Mother drew her breath in with a little catch. She- had grown rather > white. 1 "I wonder if you remember?If you ever think of?your childhood," she said. "Why, yes, of ? of course ? sometimes." It was my turn to stammer. I was thinking of that diary that I had just read?and added to. Mother drew in her breath again, this time with a catch that was almost a sob. And then she began to talk? at first haltingly, with half-finished sentences; then hurriedly, with a rush of words that seemed not able to utter themselves fast enough to keep up with the thoughts behind them. She told of her youth and marriage, and of my coming. She told of her life with Father, and of the mistakes she made. She told much, of course, that was In Mary Marie's diary'; but she told, oh, so much more, until like < nonnroma tho whftla thinff 1?V before A JL/AUV& UJLuu v**v a me. i Then she spoke of me, of my child- j hood, and her voice began to quiver. 1 You can see things so much more 1 clearly when vou stand off at a dls- < i Than She Spoke of Me, and of My 2 Childhood, and Her Voice Began to Quiver. ? tance like this, you know, than you s can when you are close to them! ? She broke down and cried when she r spoke of the divorce, and of the influ- s ence it had upon me, and of the false s idea of marriage it gave me. She said ? it was the worst kind of thing for me? < the sort of life I had to live. She said I ( grew pert and precocious and worldly- t tvise, and full of servants' talk and deas. She even spoke of that night it the little cafe table when I gloried n the sparkle and "spangles and tojd tier that now we were seeing life?real ife. And of how shocked she was, tnd of how she saw then what this :hing was doing to me. But it was too ate. She told more, much more, about the ater years, and the reconciliation; :hen, some way, she brought things iround to Jerry and me. Her face lushed up then, and she didn't meet uy eyes. She looked down at her sewng. She was very busy turning a hem lust so. She said there had been a time, )nce, when she had worried a little ibout Jerry and me, for fear we would ?separate. She said that she believed hat, for her, that would have been the rery blackest moment of her life; for t would be her fault, all her fault. I tried to break in here, and say, 'No, no," and that it wasn't her fault; >ut she shook her head and wouldn't isten, and she lifted her hand, and I lad to keep still and let her go on talkng. She was looking straight into my >yes then, and there was such a deep, leep hurt in them that I just had to isten. She said again that it would be her :ault; that if I had done that she vould have known that it was all be;ause of the example she herself had ;et me of childish willfulness and ?elfsh seeking of personal happiness at he expense of everything and every>ody else. And she said that that vould have been the last straw to >reak her heart. n..i -1- - AV. n A mm. xjul sue utxitueu iuai sue was siuc iow that she need not worry. Such a Mng would never be. , I guess I gasped a little at this. Anyiow, I know 1 tried to break in and :ell her that we were going to sepaate, and that that was exactly what I lad come into the room in the first ilace to say. But again she kept right on talking, md I was silenced before I had even >egun. She said how she knew it could tever be?on account of Eunice. That would never subject my little girl to he sort of wretchedly divided life that had t? live when t was a child. (As she spoke I was suddenly back n the cobwebby attic with little Mary's iiary, and I thought?what if it were Eunice?writing that!) She said I/was the most devoted nother she had ever known; that I vas too devoted, she feared sometimes, lor I made Eunice all my world, to the exclusion of Jerry and everything and everybody else. But that she was very jure, because I was so devoted, and oved Eunice so dearlv. that I would lever deprive her of a father's love md care. I shivered a little, and looked quicky into Mother's face. But she was not ooking at me. I was thinking of how Ferry had kissed and kissed Eunice a nonth ago, when we came away, as if le just couldn't let her go. Jerry is fond of Eunice, now that she's old ?nough to know something, and Eunice idores her father. I knew that part w&s going to be hard. And now to lave Mother put it like that? I began to talk then of Jerry. I just felt that I'd got to say something. That Mother must listen. That'she didn't inderstand. I told her how Jerry loved lights and music and dancing, md crowds bowing down and worshiplag him all the time. And she said yes, she remembered; that he'd been that vay when I married him. She spoke so sort of queerly that igain I glanced at her; but she still vas looking down at the hem she was turning. I went on then to exnlain that I iidn't like such things; that I beieved that there were deeper and ligher things, and things more worth ;vhile. And she said yes, she was glad, ind that that was going to be my savng grace; for, of course, I realized :hat there couldn't be anything deeper )r higher or more worth while than seeping the home together, and put:ing up with annoyances, for the ultinate good of all, especially of Eunice. She went right on then quickly, be:ore I could say anything. She said hat, of course, I understood that I vas still Mary and Marie, even if Jerry lid call me Mollie; and if Marie had narried a man that wasn't always congenial with Mary, she was very sure if n wVt Un aw aiinly make a little effort to be once in i while the Marie he had married, ;hings might be a lot easier?for Mary. Of course, I laughed at that. I had :o. And Mother laughed, too. But we inderstopd. We both understood. I lad never thought of it before, but I lad been Marie when I married Jerry. [ loved lights and music and dancing ind gay crowds just exactly as well as le did. And it wasn't his fault that I suddenly turned into Mary when the )aby came, and wanted him to stay it home before the fire every evening vith his dressing-gown and slippers. So wonder he was surprised. He ladn't married Mary?he never knew dary at all. But, do you know? I'd lever thought of that before?until dother said what she. did. Why, probtbly Jerry was just as much disap K)intea to nna his Mane turnea mio a tfary as I? But Mother was talking again. She said that she thought Jerry was i wonderful man, in some ways; that ihe never saw a man with such charm md magnetism, or one who could so eadily adapt himself to different perions and circumstances. And she said (he was very sure if Mary could only ihow a little more interest in pictures [especially portraits), and learn to di?russ lights and shadows and perspecives, that, nothing, would be lost, and that something might he gained; that I there was nothing, anyway, like a community of interest or of hobbies to bring two people together; and that it was safer, to say the least, when it was the wife that shared the commu- ; nity of interest than when it was some j other woman, though of course, she j knew as well as I knew that Jerry j never would? She didn't finish her ' sentence, and because she didn't finish j it, it made me think all the more. Then, in a minute, she was talking again. She was speaking of Eunice. She said once more that because of her, she knew tnat she need never fear any serious trouble between Jerry and me, for, after all, it's the child that always pays for the mother's mistakes and short-sightedness, just as it is the soldier that pays for his commanding officer's blunders. That's why she felt thai I had had to pay for her mistakes, and why she knew that I'd never compel my little girl to pay for mine. She said that the mother lives in the heart of the child long after the mother is gone, and that was why the mother always had to be?so careful. Then, before I knew it, she was talking briskly and brightly about something entirely different; and two minutes later I found myself alone outside of her room. And I hadn't told her. But I wasn't even thinking of that. I was thinking of Eunice, and of that round, childish sc:*awl of a diary upstairs in the attic trunk. And I was picturing Eunice, in the years to come, writing her diary; and I thought, what if she should hare to? I went upstairs then and read that diary again. And all the while I was reading I thought of Eunice. And when it was finished I knew that I'd never tell Mother, and that I'd never write to Jerry?not the letter that I was goin^ to write. I knew that. ******* They brought Jerry's letter to me at Just that point. What a wonderful letter that man can write?when he wants to! He says he's lonesome and homesick, and that the house is like a tomb without Eunice and me, and when am I coming home? I wrete him tonight that I was < going?tomorrow. THE END. SCHEDULE OF CAMPAIGN MEETINGS. The following is a schedule of cam-r paign meetings of tlhe Democratic Primary in Bamberg county: Farrell's?July 14. Camp Branch?July 21. Ehrhardt?July 28. Olar?August 4. v Denmark?August 11. Bamberg?August 18. The president of each club (or, in his absence, the vice president) is ' requested to arrange for the meetings at the respective clubs. The usual hour of the campaign meetings is ten o'clock, a. m. Candidates for ' county offices are requested to attend these various meetings and ad a. -L n J: J? .?? ,,^ A dress me voters. L.