Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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14 .'s*/ ' v: ' '*• :5 .’> ^ if? 1 ’f.*"' 'VA-: ’.'''". THK LEDGER s GAFFNEY, S. C., DECEMBER 23, 1897. THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS. Tile mplitncholjr days have come, the mddw-t of the year, Of walling winds and naked wood a and mea dow. brown :.nd Mere. Beaded in tlie hollow, of the grove tho au tumn leave, lie dead. They rustle to the eddying gust and to the rab bit’. tread. The i obin and the wren are flowu, and from the nhrubii the jay, And from the wood to|> ealla the crow throuj’.i all the gloomy day. Ythere are the flowers, the fair young flowero, that lately sprung and stood In brighter light and softer air, a beauteous sisterhood V Alas, they nil are in their graves! The gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and gfxsl of ours. The tain is falling where they lie, but tho cold Kovetnlxr lain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again. The wind flower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier rose and the orchis die amid tho summer glow. But on the hill the goldenrod, and the aster in the wood. And the yellow sunflower by the brook in au tumn beauty stood Till fell tbe frost from the clear, cold heaven as fulls the plague on men, And tbe brightness of their smile was gone from upland, glado and glon. And now, when comes the calm, mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home, When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, Tile south wind searches for the flowers whose . fragrance late he bore, And slglis to lind them iu the wood and by the stream no more. And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, The fair, meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side. In the cold, moist earth wo laid her when the forests east tho loaf, And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief. Tat not unmeet it was that one like that young friend of ours, •Be* gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers. —William Cullen Bryant. A DEPENDENT. “Mr. Schtrarfze comes tonight, Anne. 8eo tliiit his room is ready and bo quick About it.” Having irritably given her directions, Mrs. Holmes lay hack with a dismal groan and languidly picked up tho bock 'Vlbfi 1'ftd dropped. With acuin" feet Anne dragged her way up the stairs to tho top floor. It was a small room aud not too tfteerfcl, and 4t looked cv.t upon tho lev*’ dwarfed fruit trees iu the back yard and beyond that upon the rear ends of mipaiuted tenements, where half starved and wholly wretched faces aomctinies peered out through the smoko clouded panes. “I wonder if he’ll mind,” mused Anne, with a wordless thought of the desolation that so often swept over her own cramped soul as she looked out up on this dreary prospect. ‘‘He ain’t like A man that’s always lived boardin around. Looks like he ought to have a home somewhere and a mother. He’d bo good to one if he had her. He’s got good eyes. It’s pretty bare inhere,” ahe added regretfully. Then under some sudden impulse she crept stealthily along the dark hall to A bedroom hardly larger than a closet and was back in a moment carrying something carefully hidden under her. r^ron. When deposited upon the dress* it proved to be a tumble.: holding half a dozen glowing carnations. ‘‘They’ll make it a little more home like for him,” she said. And then she turned to the prosaic work of changing the bed linen, dusting, cleaning and bringing in soap, fresh water and tow els. ‘‘May I see the madam?” a hearty ▼oico called from the doorway, and Anno lowered the ash pan aud turned to Aeo tho new boarder, a big, good naturod Crerman, bowing gravely toward her. . *‘I—I’m afraid not, ” she said. ‘‘Aunt Holmes is an invalid, you know. She only sees people when they first come to engage board. Will I do? I can tell yon anything, I think, or I can take a message to Aunt Holmes”— But there she stopped confused, remembering that Ahe was prohibited an audience with the offended aunt. Her breath came more freely when Mr. Schwartze said: ‘‘If I could please be shown to my room. And your din ner hour I haf not learned. ” ‘‘Dinner’s at 6,” said Anne with alac rity, ‘‘and I’ll show you to your room. ” As she passed the new boarder at the door ho stepped back with a chivalrous movement aud held tho portiere for her. Anne could not remember any such po lite attention in the whole course of her life. It gave her a queer sensation, and aho walked somehow with her head a little less bent up the two steep flights and along the winding hall. ‘‘The boarders sit down stairs a good deal,” she said, still regretting that cheerless room. ‘‘The furnace doesn’t beat very well up here, and it’s warmer in the sitting room on account of the lire. ” Then she returned to her ashes. She made the invalid’s toast with un usual care that night and cautioned Kitty about keeping the soup well cov ered and hot. At 0 o’clock, in her fresh white apron, riie stood ready to wait on the long feeble. Mr. Schwartze was not among the first to obey the summons of the dinner hell. Before he come she had brought in several plates of steaming soup, and Mr. Brown had grunted with disfavor at sight of his and gruffly ordered it Away, muttering something about ‘‘dam aoupevery night.” Shu was hastening to change his plate when Mr. Schwartze entered. The big German cost his eyes with friendly interest over the group at the table. There w as something hearty and genuine about him, thobgh his gait was a trifle awkward and hn shoulders some what stooped. Bur lie said, “Pardon, auuk.in,” ho withdrew his uapki* from too close proximity to Miss Simp kins’ plate aud “Thank you” to Anno when she gave him his soup. If the hot stuff hud not been safely deposited upon the cloth before him, it might have showered upon him in scalding streams, for a “Thank you” to Anne was so un usual as to be absolutely startling. It made her duties through that meal seem almost pleasant, although Miss Simp kins complained that the tea was slop aud Mr. Brown said it was a pity if he never could get roast beef ho could eat. Anne’s cheeks had grown into the habit of burning through the long hours when she served at table. Aunt Holmes was safe out of hearing, and Gladys de clined to eat with tho boarders, so there was only Anne to face the storming when the cook made mistakes or tho marketman failed to bring tho best of his stock. There was only one boarder in tho house who treated Anne as if she were of more significance than the dust of tho earth. That one was Baby Blossom. Baby Blossom had not learned iu tho two years of his smiling existence that there are people—'.verworked, under fed, spiritless creatures—whom it is one’s privilege to tread underfoot. He had a friendly fashion of cooing at Anne whenever ho saw her and holding out his dimpled hands, aud when Anno held him hungrily in her tired arms ho gave no evidence of knowing that she was salloW and tattered aud thin as a rail and that her face was often streak ed with tears. Father Blossom was a “floor walker” in a down town store who talked pom pously of “my clerks” aud “my estab lishment,” and Mother Blossom was an overdressed blond who loved card par ties better than the dimpled baby. When, through long evenings, Baby Blossom stared lonosomoly at the glow worm light near his cradle, Anno used to slip in, away from the crnel shafts of Aunt Holmes’ tongue, and croon lul labies as she rocked tho little chap to slumber. Now, upon this night of his arrival, Mr. Schwartze, being a homo loving man, not particularly drawn to the beer saloon or tbe concert hall, roamed about in Mrs. Holmes’ would be fashionable boarding house in quest of entertain ment. In tho parlor Miss Gladys, large and imposing, was languidly entertaining a tall collared beau. In the sitting room Mrs. Brown, Miss Simpkins aud Miss Rhodes W cro discussing tho trials of tho boarder. Mr. Schwartze slipped into a warm corner with his paper and tried not to hear. Soon, quiet and sweet above tho sharp fault finding of the ladies, sound ed stray bits of a musical lullaby: Shop, little pint on, and fold your v. ings, Littlo blue pigeon with velvet eyes! It was Anne in tho “second story back” lulling Baby Blossom to sleep. And it was Anne who stepped into the sitting room half an hour later with something almost like happiness in her eyes and exclaimed softly, “I’ve got him to sleep—the little lamb.” The three ladies stared at her coldly, and a silence fell upon them. “I’m sorry about your curtains, Miss Simpkins. I’ll get them up tomorrow.” “I think it is time,” said Miss Simp kins dryly, and the gladness died out of poor Anne's eyes. “Will you haf this chair by tho fire, Miss Anna?” saida sudden voice, and Mr. Schwartze stood looking kindly at her and pointing to his easy chair. “No, sir; thank you, sir. I’ve got things to do,” said Miss Anne, as she backed cut cf tho room. B^t what won der if she dreamed that night of tho on ly soul who, having arrived at years of discretion, had ever regarded her as a grade above the level of the earthworm. . Mr- Schwartze, for some obscure rea son, took paius to make covert inquiries about this household drudge in tho weeks that followed. From Miss Simpkins ho learned that Miss Anne was a “shiftless thing,” who never got the fires made in time. Oth ers infonned him that she frequently failed to wash the windows and wood work properly, that she was often late bringing up water and answering the bell, that she didn't shake the great rugs half hard enough, that she was a poor fool of a creature who often bronght Mr. Brown his meat not suffi ciently rare, and that, in fact, she was generally faulty and incapable, a poor dependent upon Mrs. Holmes’ boonty. Yet with all the weight of evidence against her, somehow the new boarder only grew the more to pity the bar; «- ed creature who toiled for thankless peo ple day after day and often far into the night. Once he discovered her quieting Baby Blossom in its mother’s absence, and there was a light in her eyes that glori fied them. In one glance the big heart ed fellow seemed to see revealed the woman Miss Anne might grow to be, given a fair share of love and kindness. It made him want to experiment. In the morning ho walked squares out of his way to stop at a florist's. Long stemmed roses he picked ont and a bunch of sweet violets. Then he gave directions to tho florist and wrote care fully and at some length on a card. When the bell jangled that cold after noon and Miss Anne hastened to answer it, she stared in blank bewilderment tit the name on the long, neat package. Bhe had had precious little “schooling, ” had Miss Anne, and for a moment she doubted her ability to n ad plain script. “Oh, a box from Wade's!” cried Gladys over the banister. “That dear Billy has sent me some flowers!” “No,” said Anne, in a sort of daze, holding the box as if it were some loved, live thing. “It’s for me. It says, 'Miss Anne Minton’ on it” “You’re craay,” said Gladys shortly and a bit angrily, too, for she never had heard Anne so nonsensical. And she snatched the box from Anne’s fingers. Then she stared, open mouthed. “Csetar’s ghost!” was all she said, but she handed back the box and made no remonstrance when Anne ran up the etuirs to her dark back chamber, leav ing her work iu the basement suspended. They were trembling fingers that broke the strings aud took off the wrap pings from the damp, cool box, and when tho last waxed palters were folded back and Aune saw the fresh end fra grant flowers she gathered them up and buried her face in them with tears that fell aud ‘parkled, dewlike, on their cool, sweet jjetals. There was a sort of choking rapture in her heart when she read on the re verse of Mr. Bchwartze’s card, iu a fine German hand: Tho limit of life Is brief— ’Tis the red in the red rose leaf, ’Tis the gold in the sunset sky, ’Tis the flight of a bird on high. Yet we may fill the space With such an infinite grace That the red will vein all time, The gold through the ages shine, Aud the bird fly swift and straight To the lilies of God’s own gate. She read it over and over, impressed at first only with a sort of reverence for the man who had “learned oil'” ami written a verse like that. Then through her mind, which un- kindness had made dull and unimagina tive by a long process of hardening, there began to creep a sense of the beau ty ami comfort of tho lines. “With such an infinite grace,” she repeated to herself, as she stood, a rose on her breast, that night ready to wait on the ungracious circle about the din ing table. And when Mr. Brown wrath- f ully ordered his plate back to the kitch en she took it with almost a smile, feed ing somehow that however ugly life might be on the outside there still lived within, if she were patient ami good, a something sweet and fair that would take her, like the bird in tho poem, “swift and straight to the lilies of God’s own gate. ” Even Mr. Schwartze noticed a sort of transfiguration of her sad, tired face, though to him she never said a word of acknowledgment or thanks. Because of her ignorance and a cer tain sense of awe toward him she felt she could only thank him for a gift so royal by written words, slowly aud carefully wrought Night after night, when tho lights were dim in the boarding house, Anno toiled over her paper ami the grammal and spelling book she had borrowed from Willie Brown. At last tho note, written and fastened to Mr. Schwartze's pinenrbion, lay waiting his astonished perusal. Ho read in careful, uneven letters: Rcspectei* Fkiekd—These Hues arc to toll you how thankful I am to you for tho brnuti- fnl rosoR and violet*) and verue. You could not know how it felt to mo to got them, for 1 couldn't help crying, for it was tho first beau tiful tiling that ever happened to mo in my fife tbit 1 cm remember. Your respected friend, A. MistOX. It was a week after that time that Willie Brown stood on a dark landing of the stain waiting to make Miss Anne “jump like a scared cat” as sho came toiling up the stairs with an armful of wood for Miss Simpkins’ open fire. Aud jump she did, in a way that sent Master Willie off in a roar of langbter, as suddenly checked when he realized that Miss Anne, having missed her foot ing aud fallen, was lying quite motion less and very blue about tho lips, with the heavy chunks of wood upon her. One great stick, thumping and bump ing down the stain, had brought impa tient iuquiren to their various doors, but it was Mr. Schwartze who first reached the prostrate woman lying on the landing below. Sho tried to rise with his help, but could not. And then Miss Anne dared usurp a privilege belonging solely to Aunt Holmes, the pronounced invalid. She fainted dead away. “It’s a sprain or a break,” said Mr. Schwartze briefly. “Lead tho way to her room, mees.” And he tnmod au thoritatively to Gladys, who meekly sped up stain and along the hall to the narrow room. “I go for tho doctor whilo you stay with her here, ” said tho big German. But in his brief glance at the clean, bare room he had seen his drooping roses and violets still tenderly cared for, though withered and brown. There was something very like a mist in the honest eyes of Herr Schwartze ad he ran with all speed for tho doctor a few doors away. Aunt Holmes intely jerked her im posing person from the luxuries of the sickroom and tried in a measure to do Anne’s work in the weeks that followed. Unable to accomplish this, even with Gladys’ protecting aid, she advertised at last for a servant, and then for two, both of whom worked industriously filling tho uupaid “dependent’s” place. In the meantime Miss Anne herself lay quiet and alone in her cold little room. Yet she was neither cold nor lonely, for down in her heart burned a new gladness, hardly defined or recog nized, yet filling her solitude with mu sic and all the space about her with warmth and comfort. There were fresh carnations by her bedside always now, and nnder her pil low a precious store of little messages —kind inquiries and good wishes—-all written in a slanting German hand. When she could sit up, she borrowed a warm wrap of Gladys and spent her time peacefully darning aud mending for the cousin and aunt below. When ' Aunt Holmes raged against the time it took to lui-ud broken ankles, Anne only said, with a strange gleam of gladness, “Tbe d)<ctor says I can hobble down stairs in a week or so.” Aud although that meant taking up the old life speedily, the life of a mse aud hardship, there was one thought that overbalanced all else—the thought that down in the common ground of the sitting room she might see the hon est, friendly face that for her held all the light in the big, gray world. It was dusk of a chilly evening, and the boarders had not yet gathered about tbe friendly fire down stairs, when Mrs. Holmes’ petulant voice shrilled ont: “If you’re ever going to oome down, Aune Minton, you’d as well come now. Guess you’re as able to slave as we are, and the sittin room lamps want lightin." Herr Schwartze, earning in with mowfl&kes on his great coat, halted at the newel post, turned, and then step ped quietly into the fire lighted room. When his listening ear caught the first sound of the slow limp at the head of the stairs, ho was up the flight in three leaps, helping the slender figure down. “Wilkommen! Wilkommen!” he said in the hall, taking Loth her hands in his hearty grasp. “What does that mean?” Miss Anno asked, her face lighting np gladly. “That is welcome!” exclaimed Herr Schwartze. “Wilkommen! That is tho German’s welcome to his goot fricut— his American frient. ” “How good you arc!” said Anno, and all the story of her gratefulness, her new zest in life, seemed to breathe in the words. “I—I never was happy be fore. I never had a friend. I didn’t know what it was to”— And then she stopped, confused, aud quick tears well ed to her eyes. “You haf been what they call the unter dog in the fight,” he said. “I haf seen it. I haf watched. I know. And my heart bass melted for you, beholting your patience and loving service to all, who loved you none at all in return. ” ' In his heat end earnestness Herr Schwartze's talk grew more aud more broken, but Anne understood him, and her pale cheek flushed. She stead i(*d herself with one hand against the door, aud, seeing this, he led her to the big chair by the fire, so carefully, so tender ly, that quiet tears gleamed again in her great dark eyes. Herr Schwartze looked at her a mo ment, then held out a strong, impulsive hand. “I haf not much to offer yon, but what I haf and am iss yours,' ’ he said. “Will you take it, my goot Mees Anna? This hand knows how to work for those it loves, aud you I love; yes, dearly, dearly. ” When Aunt Holmes, drawn by some deep instinct, softly opened the sitting room door, sho nearly fainted at tho sight she saw. Anne, Aune, the dull, the incapable, bolding Herr Schwartze’s ample hand and looking as if all the sparkles of tho stars had stolen into her eyes. “What does this moan, Mr. Schwartze —Anne?” sho demanded in righteous wrath. Mr. Schwartze rrndo her his gravest bow, though his face was radiant. “It means, my dear madam, that Moos Anna hero iss tomorrow my wife, and wo go out to buili our home place together.” And tho andacious boarder, before her very eyes, laid a protecting hand upon tho head of Miss Anne, tho de pendent.—New York Tribune. A Famous War Correspondent. It is most interesting to note, says Henry Childs Merwiu in The Atlantic, the impression made upon tbe English mind by the late J. A. MacGahau, the famous war correspondent, who was the son of an Ohio farmer. His English friend and fellow worker, Mr. Archibald Forbes, writes of him as follows: “1 never saw such a fellow for making himself at homo among high officials. In his manner there was no flavor of impudence or presumption. I question whether of that word, indeed, he un derstood'the meaning. It was as if he, in the character of a man and a repub lican man, had reasoned the mattet down to bare principle. ‘I am a man,’ eeemed to me to be his attitude, ‘and 1 am a man who honestly and legitimate ly, for a specific purpose of which you are aware, or of which I shall be glad to make you aware, want something. That something—be it information, be it a passport, bo it what it may—you can give me best, therefore I ask you for it It is immaterial to tho logic of the position I virtually take whether you are an office messenger or tho chan cellor of an empire, a lientenant, or the commander in chief. ’ ” No wonder then that, as another friend of his put it, “MacGahan could do anything he liked with Ignatieff, calmly made love to Mme. Ignatieff, rather patronized Prince Gortchakof, and nodded affably to the Grand Duke Nicholas.” It is to bo observed that in writing the description which I have quoted Mr. Forbes had no design of making a gen eral statement, much less of analyzing the American notion of equality. He was simply indicating in his acute, straightforward manner what he con ceived to be MacGahan’s attitude ’to ward all the world. FtmIi Air For m Bod Foot Bat lent. “As all the world knows, there is no more perfect means of ventilation than an open fire, ’ ’ writes Mrs. Bnrton Kings- land, telling how to nurse the sick, in The Ladies’ Home Journal. “It is con- tinnons and attended with no danger of draft. A more equable temperature is obtained with wood than with coal, and the thermometer should bo frequently consulted in a sickroom. As fresh air is tho best tonic it is said that a window may be opened at the top on a sunny day, no matter how ill tho patient be, if iu tho opening a wooden frame cov ered with flannel is fitted. The air strained through the woolen material is deprived of all power to harm. An um brella covered with a shawl makes a good screen when the windows are open, the patient being sheltered nnder it as if in a tent. A folding clothesborse may also bo utilized as a screen frame. As a person lying on his back is deprived of the protection of his eyelids from the light the blinds and enrtaius should be udjusud with regard to that fact A room a little shaded is more restful to a person in illness, bnt if a patch of sunshine can be let in somewhere in the room it makes a cheery spot for him to turn to if so minded. Thu Italian prov erb says, ‘Where the sun does not enter tne doctor does.’ ’’ To Benefit Others. Th« Editor of The Bloomfield Iowa Farmer Writes of the Good Dona by DR. MILES’ NEW HEART DURE. '1 tif'h Dr. Mllss* T HERE ARE a great many unselfish men and women who wish others to know what has restored them to health and iMppincss. Mr. C. F Davis, pub lisher of one of the best newspapers In Iowa, writes from Bloomfield la., Aug 18 let#. “My desire to benefit others prompts me to write this. We have used Dr. Miles' Remedies In my family for nearly two years with most gratifying results. We would’nt now do with out them. My wife had been weakly and down nearly every summer for the past fifteen years. Dr Miles’ Heart | Cure is exactly what its name Implies; a sure cure for a weak, fluttering palpitating heart, and Dr. Miles’ Nerve and Liver Pills are most excellent.” Dr. Miles' Remedies are sold by all drug gists under a positive guarantee, first bottle benefits or money refunded. Book on Heart and Nerves sent free to all applicants. DR. MILES MEDICAL CO.. Elkhart, Ind. Summons for Relief. (I'omplaint not Served). Tlis State ol Sobtli talma, k Restore^ Health . I'robrie, < Ot-STT or ClIKROKEK. | N T. H. frlmnilor. Clerk, as Administrator de bonis non ol tin- Estate of 11. \y. Tate oee’VI. Plaintiff . Against ... 1 1 -h'hn Alexander Henry Tate, t lirtstopln-r late, lias late. Eva Tale, Tom ale, Lafayette Tate, OU-dlah Tate, .lolm late r a mile late, ami .1. Kb. Jefferies y “"Administrator of the Estate of OU-dlah I ate, tleivased. . , Defendants. 1 o tae defendants aUive named: \ on are hereby summoned and required to answer the (-nni|k!u!ni in this set Ion, which is this day filed in the office of the Pro hate Judge for ilit- said c-ounty, ami to serve a eopy of your answer lothe said complaint on tlu subscrilsTs at the office of T. It. Hutler. GiilTney City. Siuth Carolina, within twenty days niter tin- soriiec thereof, exclusive of I hi* day oi such service: and it you fall to an- -wer ilie complaint within the time afore said. tl.e phuniilT in this uctlou will apply to the Court fi r the relief demanded in the con,plaint. December 1st, A. 1)., IsaT. July i;rd. A. D. PUT, (Seal) .1. E. Webster, Probate Judge. J. (’. Wai.i.ace, • WiitiitiT Nash, Thus. B. Hi ti.er, Plaintiff’s Attorneys. Notice. To t he absent defendents. F.d. Tate: Take Notice That the summons of which the foregoing is a copy, together with the complaint In this action, is this day filed in the ofHee of tin- Probate Judge for the county of Cherokee. J. c. Wallace, Wkight Nash, Thus. It. Bctlkh, Plaintiff’s Attorneys. Administrator’s Sale. B Y virtue of Authority given us by order of the Probate Court forCherokec county | we will sell at public sale, at the late resi- denc of Mrs. Elizalieth A. Browe. deceased, Gaffney. S. C., on Tuesday. Stiih day of De- cember, isiff, beginning at 11 o’clock a. m.. the following named personal property, to wit: Household and Kitchen Furniture, Piano. Buggy. Wagon,Cow and Calf, Ac. Terms of sale, cash. W. C. Caupenteb. J. N. Ct’IID, Adms. Mrs. K. A. Brown, deed, Gaffney, S. C.. Dec., 13, IsDi.-St. You need not look in the dictionary to know that a fake is a pretension. When anybody tells you they sell gro ceries cheaper thau we do then that is a fake, for we sell goods cheaper than auybody. J. L. ALEXANDER & CO. and you will want some toys for the children; some Fine/ Candies, Nuts, Ac., Pretty Dolls, and lots of other things that F will sell you cheap. See my line. I have the prettiest lot of these goods in Cherokee county. Yours truly, O. A. OSBORNE, Blacksburg, - S. C. ' THE NATIONAL BANK OF GAFFNEY. CAPITAL $50,000.00 Tips bank respectfully solicits the accounts of individual firms and corporations and will extend every reasonable accommoda tion to those doing business with it. Call to see us if you wish to borrow money. F. G. Stacy, Prest, J. G. Wardlaw, Vice-Prest, D. C. Ross, Cashier. Save Your Hooey t by trading where you can buy your goods tho cheapest! You will find my store the place you are looking for if you want to make your dollars, quarters and dimes reach tho full limit of their purchasing power. Yours truly, J. I. Sarratt. Writing For a Living. “I under*tnml you have joined the literary brotherhood. ” “Yea,’’ replied Lovelace, “I am now writing for a living. ” And he daubed off another begging letter to his father. —Strand Magazine. You will find a full line of Christmas Goods AT 'r. i>Cheap ©tore, also a large stock ol Groceries, Hay, Corn andi Oats at prices to suit you. Respectfully, T. Oavenport. N. B.—Buy your fruits, &c., for Xmas cak< from me and save money. »