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THE LEDGER: GAFFNEY, 8. C., NOVEMBER 4, 1807. 3 W. H. PALMER, WATERLOO, IOWA. "Saved From the Horror* of Nervous Pros* tration" by Dr. Miles' Nervine. kiPli V COUGH dots not always Indicate consumption. Mr. W. H. Palmer, of Waterloo, Iowa, writes: "I was taken with a nervous stricture of the bronchial tubes, which developed into nervous pros tration, I was so weak I could not sit up. I Kot no sleep for days except when under the Influence of opiates. For four months I suf fered agonies and prayed that I might die (and be at rest. One physician said I had i consumption, for I had I a cough that gave me j no rest. But a good l cld pltj ,'c'an Trko..c medicine had failed, | advised me to use Ur. I M iles’ Restorative Nervine and I thank God that it has bright ened my days, lengthened my life and saved me from the horrors of nervous prostration." Ur. Miles’Remedies are sold by ail drug gists under a positive guarantee, first bottle benefits or money refunded. Book on Heart and Nerves sent free to ail applicants. DR. MILES MEDICAL CO., Elkhart. Ind. Nervine rvetioros Health THE LOVE HOCK. Haiti the The Decay of Literary Taste. Edmund William Gosuo, who holds the position of translator to the British board of trade and is the “clerk lectnr- e- in English literature” at Cambridge, in writing on the present decay of liter ary taste says: “The only hope for lit erature is that in spite of the indiffer ence to—nay, the positive dislike of— careful writing on the part of the pub lic, those who write, being themselves artists or artisans, shall coutinuo to give to their productions this technical finish which alone invests it with dig nity. It is only fair to eay that in our own age there has been no lack of those who have honorably and unselfishly turned out work not slovenly finished, as the public preferred, hut fashioned and polished in accordance with the laws and traditions of the art. But I am bound to confess that I see and I deeply deplore a relaxation of this no ble zeal in some of our youngest crafts men. I fear that something of the lax ity of public tasto has invaded their private workshops and that they are apt to say to themselves that second rate writing is ‘good enough’ for the publishers. Whenever I see it boldly put forth that‘the matter’ is everything and the ‘manner’ nothing, that to write with core is on‘affectation’ or an ‘arti fice, ’ that style may take care of itself, and that ‘unchartered freedom’ is the best badge of a writer there seems to rise before me the lean and hungry scholar, scraping and cringing before the great vulgar patron, with ‘What you wish, my lord. I don’t presume to decide. ’ And from this sort of obsequi ousness to public ‘taste’ no return to self respect is possible.” R. H. Hatton on Dickon*. The late Richard Holt Hutton, editor of the Loudon Spectator, was a well known intellectual critic. The follow ing wore his criticisms on the genius of Charles Dickens: “The wealth and subtlety of his [Dickens’] contrasts, the fine aim of his exaggerations, the pres ence of mind (which is the soul of wit) displayed in his satire, the exquisitely professional character of the sentiments and metaphors which fall from his char acters, the combined audacity and mi croscopic delicacy of his shading in cari cature, the quaint flights of his fancy in illustrating a monstrous absurdity, the suddenness of his strokes at one moment, the cumulative perseverance of his touches at another, all make him such a humorist us many centuries arc not likely to reproduce. But then humor of this kind is not necessarily connected with any deep knowledge of the heart and mind of man, and of such a knowl edge I can see little trace in Dickens. Ho bad a memory which could retain and an imagination which could sub limate and a fancy which could in definitely vary almost any trait which had once fixed itself in his mind, but the traits which did so fix themselves wore almost always peculiarities, and his human figures are only real so far as- they reproduce the real oddities of life, or what to a man in Dickens’ rank and class seemed real oddities, and of course while there are many real oddi ties in the world these are not the staple of our average life, with which, indeed, Dickens’ genius never dealt either. Do you feel dull and bilious, a heavy tired feeliiiK, had taste in the moiitli and an aver sion to food? These arc symptoms of a tor pid liver and need orompt attention to pr<- vent tin* development of a serious kidney disease. I’urki.v Ash Hittkhs will s. t things right, it drives (,ut ail foul matter and impurities In the taiwels. stimulates the liver imd digestion, cleanses the system of bilious influences, and Imparts a general feeling of health and cheerfulness. For sa o by Cherokee Drug Co. * - - -- — Everybody Fay* So. Cascarets (i&mly Cathartic, the most won derful medical discovery of Hie age. pleas ant and refreshing to the taste, net qently and positively on kidneys, liver and bowels, cleansing the entire system, dispel colds, cure headache, fever, habitual constipatiou and biliousness. Please buy and trv a box of C. C. C. today; III, S5», nil cents. Hold and guaranteed to euro by all druggist*. Rice’s Goose Grease Linutncnt, cures all aciies and pains. Sold mid guaranteed by I ClIKHOKEU Ditcu Co. \ — • •- - - Alf Rice Goose Grease don'tcuro your aches apd pains, bums, bruise* and sprains, we p-kv you money hack. DcI’iil Ducu Co. “That's tho rock, sir, weather boaton old tar. Ted Rivers looked up and laughed a little bitterly. “A nice place to propose to a lady,” said he. “It seems to me that it would hot bo so easy as you thiuk to get her there. ” The old fisherman looked shrewdly at Ted and winked to himself. “Well, sir, if you’d liko to try for yourself”— “I’m not thinking about myself at all,” burst out Ted, with so much in dignation that his eompmiion immedi ately drew his conclusion. “I never thought as you were, sir. ’Twas only my little bit of a jcke. But yon’s tho rock, and the gal as is asked there is had for tho askiu. It’s gospel truth, what’s more, and it’s there as I got my old woman, which wouldn’t so much as look at mo until I caught her a-sittin on tho rim of that there rock. Says I, ‘Betsy, I’vo come to ask you to marry me, ’ and she looked round sorter scared like, and I says: ‘You’m a-sittin on the love rock, Betsy, and it’s boro as I’ve follcrcd yon, for you're the only gal what I wants. I’ve set my heart on marryiu yon,’ says I, ‘and you’re on tho love rock.' Then she looks up as meek as a lamb, and she says, ‘Yes,’ and falls a-cryin as if her hea. t was broke, for Betsy, she always dirt admire that young scamp Pete, but she knew as well as me that she’d got to marry me, becauso I’d asked on tho rock. We was so took up with what had happened that wo wa« all but caught by the tide, but wc got off in time. The rock’s nev er quite covered, but ’twould be an ug ly place to pass a night and next to un possible to bo got off. There’s nasty breakers in tho test weather and some sharp bits of rock around, so as no boat can get near.” Ted had fixed his eyes on the love rock. He was not listening to the gar rulous old man, and he certainly did not believe the superstition about it, but all tho same ho felt inclined to com pass tho difficulties in the way and get Millie Lloyd there—it would be as good a place as any be knew for telling the secret which had been his torment for months, and which he now felt was impossible to keep to himself, even if the telling of it meant the ruin of his hopes. Ho conld not endure to see her chatting by the hour with old Fielding, who evidently admired her and was quite equal to asking her to marry him, old villain that he was. And Millie— who could guess what she would do? She was innocent enough to throw away her beautiful young lifo upon that hard ened old sinner out of a pity that she would think was love and because she knew nothing whatever about men and their ways. It was high time for Ted to interfere if he did not want to lose his last chance. “You try for yourself, sir,” said the fisherman, breaking in upon Ted’s thoughts and winking to himself again. “I shall do nothing of the kind,” said Ted hotly. “I’m not a fool. ” “More’s the pity I More’s the pity!” muttered the old man, with a grin that he took care to oonoeaL “It’s time to be going back,” said Ted, pulling his watch out. “Good morning. I’ve &n idea that this would be rather a nice spot for a picnic; not half bad.” Old Jack Grice bent nearly doable with laughter the moment Ted’s figure disappeared round the cliffs, and then he went homo to tell Betsy the joke and gain her opinions on the gentlefolk. She was a shrewd old woman and gave it as her opinion that Ted was in love. Jock slapped his knee in delight and had another laugh at Ted’s expense. Meantime Ted harried back to the hotol in a sort of panic. He felt uneasy suddenly because he had been absent for several hoars, and Fielding might be taking the opportunity. Perhaps even at this minute it might be too late and she be giving herself away. If she did that, she would bo true till death to the old scoundrel, and Ted—Ted would bo the most unhappy of all men. He would never be able to outlive such a blow. “Perhaps I ought to have asked her before,” groaned Ted, “but I’ve never been able to think that she cares a rup for mo. I’m not worth a thought of hers. ” Thus thinking, he drew near to the hotol. A set of tennis was being played on tho asphalt court. Millie was not there. Ho went and leaned on the ft uco that guarded tho cliff and gave a sweep ing glance from right to left, taking in the long walk on the top of the cliff and tho shore below, both visible from this point. Neither Millie nor Fielding was in view. Then ho went round tho hotel to tho pleasure grounds, and they were not there. So he went in and looked for them in all the public sitting rooms. There was not a sign of either. Until the gong summoned all tho visit ors down to table d’hote he was unable to find her, and when he heard casually that she bad been out for a drive with her mother and had since been resting in her room his heart gave a bound of joy, and the ill temper that had been very visible on his face gave way to his usual sunny smile, and ho was the life of tho young people at his end of the table. It was Ted who proposed a picnic and Ted who suggested the best spot for one. “That’s close to tho love rock, isn’t it?” “Tho love rook?” said Tod, with tho utmost innocence. “What’s that?” “Why, haven’t you heard of the love rock?” cried tho lady. “It’s one of tho many superstitions of tho ignorant fish er folk that whoever proposes on that rock will get the answer ho wants.” Thoro was a general laugh in which Ted joined, and immediately the lovo rock was chosen us their destination. With the impatience of young folk the picnic was fixed for tho next day, weath er permitting or not. A storm hud been predicted, but little did they care, and the sager objections of the ciders were talked down with many arguments us unanswerable as they wore illogical. “It's not at all the weathu tor pic nics,” growled Mr. Fielding, following tho group of enthusiasts and looking sourly on Ted and Millie, who hap pened to be talking tegetfcar. “We don't mind the weather,” said Millie. Her face was radiant, and she filtered into the plans with all her heart. Just lately she had been feeling bull and depressed, but that sensation bad vfinished, and she was able to turn with a brilliant smile to answer Mr. Fielding. Ted saw her smile and stepjied back aghast. “I should much prefer a quiet day on the shore, ” said Mr. Fielding in a lower tone. Millie glanced at Ted, and then she slipped away. Somehow she now felt out of heart with the picnic. As for Ted, there was nothing he would have liked better than to take Mr. Fielding by the throat and throttle him. Tho next morning broke bright and sunny. A brisk wind that afterw:ird became boisterous was blowing from the sea. With baskets of provisions and long sticks—which they culled their alpenstocks—the party started for tho love rock. It was a large parly and a merry one, Ted being the only one who was not able to appear gay. Too much depended upon this day for him to be able to mask his anxiety. They took ‘iieir lunch in the shelter of the cliffs. The tide was out, and the love rock stood up gaunt mid jagged in full view. They intended to explore it that afternoon. The tide had turned Iw'fore the party reached th« rock, and now the wind was so strong that a few less daring spirits turned back. Ted kept close to Millie, who refused to give up the ob ject of the picnic, though Mr. Fielding advised and almost commanded her to desist. “There is an easier ascent farther round,” said Ted, shouting into Mil lie’s ear. “Will you come? I’ve been here before and know it. ” The rest were too intent upon the difficulties of their way to notice that Ted and Millie had struggled round to the other side, and the return party were already well on their way home. Clouds were gathering in tke horizon, and every moment the wind was rising. Ted was right in thinking that the farther way was more sheltered; in fact, so well sheltered was it that he and Millie were easily able to ascend, though it was much steeper here. They meant to reach the top first, as Millie said—Ted had other hopes—and take the others by surprise. But he became wore aud more nervous, and her evident unconsciousness tied his touguo. Half way up they stopped, aud ns they sat in a nook to rest they heard how fierce the wind was now. “I’m tired,” said Millie, leaning back, “and how very steep it is! I had no idea we had climbed such a preci pice. I’m sure I couldn’t get down that.” She was frightened, but Ted reas sured her and promised an easy descent on the other side. Ho dared not trust himself to look at her sweet, pale face. “How the wind is blowing!” said Millie. “And what is that boom? Don’t you hear it?’’ “I expect it’s the breakers somewhere —farther along the shore. ” “It makes me nervous. Are you cer tain that we shall get off all right be fore the tide surrounds us?" “If we don’t,” answered Ted, “we shall, all have % rather interesting ad venture. At least ten of ns are on this rock. The sea never covers it. ” “It would be rather good fun,” said the girl a little doubtfully. When she was rested, they started once more on the ascent. Ted did not waut to get to the top. Ho had not yet told her his secret, and he was deter mined to speak before they left. But a fellow does not like to shout that sort of thing at the top of his voice. Mo ment by moment he put off tho sen tence, aud, as so often happens, ho lost his opportunity, and they reached tho top before he had said the words. Mil lie had to cower down becauso she could not stand against the wind, and it was all he could do to keep bis footing. His hat blew off aud was carried he knew not where in a moment. Millie’s dis tress amused him until she lost her hat, too, when his distress amused her. “How splendidly stupid we are!” cried Millie, laughing gayly. “Can’t •you see the others, Mr. Rivers?” “No, they’re not up yet. ” Ted shaded his eyes with his hand. It seemed to bo raining in gusts, for he was quite wet. “There’s a shower coming on,” ho shouted. “We must find shelter.’’ He found a nook for her, aud they crouched down just as a furious shower of rain drove down upon them. Ted got wet, for there was room to shelter only one. When the shower was over, he went to look for the rest again, entreat ing Millie not to follow, as the rock was so slippery it was hardly safe for her. But she insisted on following, aud the result was that she slipped aud fell, with a cry of anguish. Ted was beside her in a moment, concerned beyond expression. “Oh, my foot, my foot!” cried Mil lie. “Whatever shall I do?” “Let me look at it, “he entreated. “I know a lot about sprains, and I won’t hurt you.” “No, no, it’s nothing,” panted Mil lie, “and it serves me right.” But when she tried to stand she found it impossible, and then she looked up at Ted in terror. “How am I to get down this wretch ed rock?’’ she asked, on the verge of tears, “When tho others come, we’ll manage somehow,” ho answered reassuringly, and in his distress about her he actually forgot the object that had drawn him here. “I wonder why they aren’t hero now,” ho added. Ho stood upon a bowlder aud looked shoreward, and then he gasped. Putting his hands to his mouth, ho uttered u loud aud piercing call, and then he whistled shrilly, but f tho noise of tho wind was louder than his voice, aud the ‘va gulls’ shrieking drowned his whistle. Those figures ho saw in the distance, bent double against tho wind, continued their homeward course steadily. “What is it?” asked Millie, taking fright, “Why an' you culling?” “It’s no good. I’m afraid,” he an- j ewered. “They’ve given it up, and it isn’t likely they’ll trouble about us. Most likely they think we went homo with the others. ” “That means”— exclaimed Millie. “That we must manage to get down as best we can alone, Miss Lloyd.” Millie grew pale, but she set her lips resolutely aud said she was ready. With Ted's help she managed to stand, but a shoot of pain brought an involuntary cry to her lipft, and when she attempted to take a step forward, though he sup ported her, she could not bear it and she sank down with a short sob. “I’d faint,” she gasped. “Oh, don’t thiuk me a coward, Mr. Rivers, but I cannot, cannot bear it!” “Then I must go for help, ” said Ted. “What! Aud leave me? Oh, I entreat you not to leave me! I dare not stay here alone. ” • Ted was in a fix, but suddenly it came into his head that even if they were left here together for several hours he would not mind, aud as soon as their absence was discovered a relief party would certainly be sent for them. They were safe, and her entreaty was the sweetest music in the world to him. “No, I will not leave you,” he said. He looked about until he found a good place for her where the wind would not trouble her. Then he approached her and begged her to allow him to carry her to the spot he had found. Liko a sensible girl Millie consented, and very tenderly he carried her, laying her down with so much cure that she laugh ed at him. “Now you must let mo bo your doc tor,” he said, taking her foot into his hand and catting the laces. He made a bandage with his hand kerchief, soaked it in a pool aud band aged the injured anklo capitally. “Thank you very much,’’she said. “That is so nice.” Ted went a short distance from her and sat down, looking toward tho laud. Tho booming sound Millie had heard was louder now, and he saw a sud den dash of spray sprinkle tho rock before him. He turned aud looked sea ward. The breakers were already boil ing round the love rock. In a few min utes escape would be impossible until the next ebb, and as the rock stood out far it was inaccessible until nearly low water. It was useless calling out now, for no one was in sight. The tide advanced steadily, and now it had completely surrounded them. A curious thrill of joy ran through him. Ho glanced back to where Millie sat, bearing her pain patiently. She mo tioned to him to come to her. “ What do you see?” she asked. “We are surrounded aud will have to stay hers until the next ebb. Old Grice told ms that no boat conld appproach in the finest weather, and now there’s a high sea running. ” ^ “Arf safe?” eko asked, looking at him in terror. “Perfectly, but it will be cold and vret, and you are suffering.” “Not much,” she replied bravely, “and it is all my »tupidity. Do you think you can ever forgive me?” Ted was not able to answer except with a look that brought a rush of color to her pale cheeks. They sat in silenoe for a long time, , listening to the roar of the breakers. A solitary figure appeared on the shore, but neither of them saw it. It was an old man who stood looking toward the rock through a pocket telescope. Then he shut it up and chuckled. “Blamed if I don’t believe they’re there! I’ll go and tell missus to make somo soup for me. The young leddy’ll maybe feel a bit chilly, and doubtless he’ll come off of that air rock foelin in clined to reward everybody all round and me in partic’lar. ” Chuckling again, old Jack Grioe re turned to his Betsy and told her that he’d seen what he hud seen, and she was to make the best soup as she’d ever brewed and have a good lire aud a ket tle boiling, for he was going to save tho lives of a couple of young folks on the love rook. In order to bo before any one else Jack returned to the shore and got ready his boat and several ropes. Then ho sat down and smoked, keeping a lookout for any of the hotel folk who might be coming. When he saw some men run ning panic stricken toward him, ho pocketed his pipe and pretended to be desperately busy with his boat. “They’re as safe there as if they was in their own beds, ” cried the old man, “but I’m a-goiu to get ’em off at tho risk of my life. I’m an old man aud ain’t of much account. If I get drowud- ed, all I ask is us some oncTl look after my missus.” Of course no one would allow him to venture on tho water in the gale that was blowing, and Jack gave in with much reluctance, but insisted on keep ing watch with them, aud when tho long, weary hours of waiting were over and it was possible to approach the lovo rock he was the first to dash through the narrow band of water still encir- oling it and climb up with noble en thusiasm to the rescue. Millie’s foot was better—it had not been much sprained after all, and the perfect rest she had given it made it a very slight matter. With help she was able to descend the rock, old Jack eager ly guiding by the easiest way. When they had got down, he received u tip so large that he hud not the slightest doubt that tho virtue of tho rock had been proved once more, aud, indeed, no one of the party who had come to welcome tho adventurers was deceived by Ted and Millie’s innocent manner, aud Mr. Fielding took his (Uquirture tho next day, which no one regretted. Of course Ti l’s happiness is entirely duo to tho fact that ho proposed to Millie on the lovo rock.—Household Words. AX INSPIRED POSTER. HOW A YOUNG WIFZ ASSISTED HER ARTIST HUS3AND. Two Piece* of P!o That Produced it ' terpicco AH Green nml Yellow A Pain ful Lxperlencc Related Under DIIMeul- “Never marry an artist as long as von live,” wailed tho bride. “H’m! Has Edgar been criticising your personal nppearauco already?” queried the blond. “Or praising that of somebody else?” asked the brunette, glancing into the mirror. “Of course he hasn’t, ” said the bride. “Ho is perfectly devoted to me. Why, only the day before yesterday he came back after he had gone four blocks to kiss me goodby, aud”— “Still,” said tho brunette, “a week ago he wouldn’t have forgotten to kiss you goodby when ho went out tho first time.” “But he hadn’t forgotten, dear. Where was I? Oh. when I inarriul Ed gar of course I expected that he would make me perfectly happy, so”— “Yes, and you expected to make him perfectly happy, too,” broke in the blond. “I had already, dear; I had married him. I never expected him to treat me brutally within a month, just be cause”— “It couldn’t have been a millinery bill already—was it?” thoughtfully asked the brunette. ‘ 4 Oh, no! Papa has just paid for the hats in my trousseau, aud mamma says she wouldn’t even dare to die just now —welcome as the quiet of the grave would bo—because of the expense of a coffin.” “But about Edgar,” hinted the blond. “What was the cause of”— “It was all about a pie,” groaned the bride. “He was perfectly horrid about it Why, he”— “Criticised it, of course,” said the brunette. “Pshaw! That’s nothing. You ought to hear the things my father"— “He—he praised it,” said tho bride deliberately, “and I shall never forgive ! him as long as I live. No, not even if I live to bo as old as that horrid Miss Blanklcy ho used to be engaged to.’’ “I hope you know what you are talk ing about, dear,’’said tho blond. “I don’t.” “I thought I had made it plain enough for a dressmaker to understand already. Well, you see, it was this way: Poor Edgar has to work awfully hard. Yon know he made tho mistake of learning to draw, aud now that he has gone to making posters he has to unlearn everything ho ever knew. How ever, I try to help him all I can. Oh, I work awfully hard; you have no idea why. I made him a pie the very first week we were married, and he”— "Did be say it was good?” asked the blond apprehensively/ “He didn’t say much, dear. You see, poor Dick was dining with us. If Edgar bad praised it too much, it would have seemed like gloating over him, you kuow. But he was actually too full of pride and joy to eat ” “And Dick?” said the blond. “Oh, he ate his. He”— “By the way, I hear that Dick has recently sworn never to marry,” said the brunette. “Indeed?” said tho bride stiffly. “Well, yesterday Edgar told me that he must work at the studio all day and bring homo a piece of work that he couldn’t get to suit him and work at that half the night. I asked him if there was nothing I conld do for him, and he kissed me and said-1 might make him a pie just liko the one I had made before. ’ ’ “And he sent you a message saying he couldn’t be home to dinner? I see,” said tho brunette. “Nothing of the kind. He came aud ate two whole pieces of it. I was too tired to taste it myself, but I didn’t say a word, for he was as pale as a ghost, aud”— “Look here, Elaine,” said the blond impressively, “I hope you appreciate that man’s love. It”— “Of course I do,” snapped the bride. “Well, right after dinner ho went into his dcu to work, and I sat down ro write Helen a letter, telling her how hap— happy I was. Poor, confiding creature, I”— “My goodness, wasn’t he at work? Had he slipped out to the club, or”— “Ho was at work. About 11 he came out with the design of a poster that ho said would be his masterpiece. Oh, it was wonderful, all green and yellow, and to save your life you couldu’t tell the top from the bottom, so it is sure to make a great success. ’ ’ “But I don’t see how Edgar was brutal to you. He”— “I said, ‘Oh, Edgar, to think yon can do such lovely things aud I can’t help you a bit.’ Ho replied: ‘My darling, it is all due to you. I hadn’t an idea for it until after I had eaten that second piece of pie, aud if I live until morning all the world shall know that you alone are my inspiration.’”—Elisa Arm strong in New York Journal. Tlir Home of llie Mol Devil*. The greatest natural wonder in Java, if not in the < ntire world, is tho justly celebrated Gif ko Kau dha Ouinko, or “home of tin* hot devils,” known to the world u* the Ish.nd of Five. This geological eccentricity is really a lake of boiling mod, situated at, about the center of the plains of Grohogana, and is called an island In cause of the great emerald sea cf wp’t u. u which sur rounds it and gives it that Lpp< a ranee. The “island” is about tv.o miles in circumference aud is situated at a dis tance of almost exactly 60 miles from Solo. Near the center of this geological freak immense columns of soft, hot mud may be seen continually rising aud fall ing like great timbers thrurt through tho bciling substratum by giuut hands and thou quickly withdrawn. Besides the phenomenon of the boil ing mud columns there are scores of gi gantic bubbles of hot slime that fill up like huge balloons and keep up a series of constant explosions, the intensity of the detonations varying with tbo size of the bubble. In times post, so the Java nese authorities say, there was a tall spirelike column of baked mud ou the west edge of the lake, which constantly belched a pure stream of cold water, but this has loug been obliterated, and •everything is now a seething mass of bubbling mud and slime, a marvel to the visitors who come from long dis tances to see it. Excusable Jealousy. “It fills me*with envy,” remarked the man who wants an appointment, “to see tho schoolboy trudging to his studies.” “Yon long for tho pastimes of youth?’ ’ “No. I don’t care for them. But I’d liko to be able to pass a civil service ex- ftminatii n ;;.s well as ho could. ”—Wusu- i iugtou Star. Wclfltiiig an Kiovncmt. An Indian writer relates an interest ing anecdote concerning Bhahjee, the father cf the first ruling prince of Mab- ratias of Hindustan, who lived at about tho beginning of the seventeenth century. Ou one occasion a certain high official made a vow that be would dis tribute to tho poor the weight cf his own elephant in silver money, but the great difficulty that at first presented itself was the mode of ascertaining what this weight really was, and all the learned aud clever men of the court seem to have endeavored iu vain to con struct a machine of sufficient power to weigh the elephant. At length it is said that Shahjee came forward and suggested a plan which was simple and yet ingenious in tho highest degree. He caused the unwieldy animal to be conducted along a stage, specially made for the purpose by the water side, into a flat bottomed boat aud then haviug marked ou the boat the height to which the water reached after the elephant had weighed it down the latter was taken out and stones substituted in sufficient quantity to load the boat to the same line. Tho stones were then taken to tho scales, and thus, to the amazement of theconrt, was ascertained the true weight of the elephant.—Ani mal Friends. Eat Little Dancer From Lightning. Writing on “The Needless Fear of Lightning,” Edward VV. Bok, iu The Ladies’ Home Journal, says that “it will doubtless surprise the timid to know that only 200 deaths a year occur on an average thronghout this entire country from lightning, or one person in every 360,000 people. Now, in com parison, 16 times as many people are killed each year by falling out of win dows, over twice as many from being bitten by rattlesnakes, while 26 per cent more are killed with ‘unloaded* pistols. More people are drowned around New York city alone every year than there ore deaths from lightning all over the country. In fact, more people by 60 per cent are killed by being kicked by horses in New York city than die from lightning thonghonttbo whole of the United States. The casualties of the sonth show the dangers of being lynched and of being killed by lightning are about the same. The trolley cars of onr cities kill a far greater number of people than do the lightning storms. Now, these are facts. They are strictly accurate and carefully computed.” The Boss. In a harsh, resonant voice the boss was shouting his orders ever our heads to the farthermost portion of the works. His short, thickset, muscular figure seemed rooted to the masonry on which be stood The mingled shrewdness and brute strength of his hard face marked him as a product cf natural selection for the place that he filled. His restless gray eyes were everywhere at once, and bis whole personality was tense with a compelling physical energy. If the work slackened iu any portion of the ruins, his voice took on a vibrant quality as ho raised it to tho shout of “Now, boys, at it there!” Aud then a lash of sting ing oaths. You could feel a quickening of muscular force among tho men, liko tho show of eager industry iu a section of a schoolroom that has fallen sudden ly under tho maste’-’s questioning eye. —“The Workers,” by Walter A. Wyck- off, iu Scribner’s. Publicity. Merely to stock a store and open it is not sufficient iu these days of keen busi ness rivalry. Tho merchant, iu order to succeed, must make known his advan tages through the newspapers that reach the people net only of this city, bat of the surrounding towns as welL This is now called “publicity,” but it can be quite as well recognized under the good old name of advertising.— Scranton Truth. Small pill, safe pill, best pill. De- Witt’s Little Early Risers cure bil iousness. constipation, sick headache. Cherokee Drug Company, Gaffney, and Macon Thornton, Blacksburg. For drunkenness drink cold water; for health rise early; to be happy be honest; to please all mind your own business.—Franklin. Large toques of velvet seem to be the dominant idea iu millinery, and they are trimmed with upright feathers on one side or a long plume falling partly on the hair at the side, with two short, fluffy plumes standing up. Flowers aud bows of ribbon are also used, and they all tilt up ou the left side. You can’t cure consumption but. | you can avoid it and cure every other form of throat or lung trouble | by the use of One Minute Cough j Cure Cherokee Drug Company, Gaffney, and Macon Thornton, Blacksburg.