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I > THK LEDfiER: GAFFNEY, S. C„ FEBRUARY 24, lh\)8. y MY LI3RARY. As on« who pr.usc» on a rorlt, Tlio linxiioii of Homo mm nymph’s homo, Ami feels the ripples round him Hook, Then cleaven the foam And uIldus through cool, pcllud 1 ways Where creepers kls« each thrilltni; limb And hears, or thinus he hears, low lays Of ch. ruhim And innrveln at the wondrous scene, The ruins upon ruins hniled, Tlie moving hosts, the darkling sheen, The awful world. Then rises, snatching first some gem, Some token of his sojourn there, And flings a dewy diadem From face and hair And in the sunlight, with the sigh Of sea winds whistling in his ears, Views his found treasure till his eye Is dim with tears, Ho, where in lordly sweeping baya. In distant dark retiring nooks, Stretches before my cagey gaze This sea of books. 1 pause and draw one fervent breath. Then plunge and seem to pass away Into deep waters still us death, Vet clear as day, To move by bowlders of the pa?t, By caves where falter dimly pure Gleams of the future, all the vast Of literature. Then to return to life above, From regions where hut few have trod. Bearing a gem <T larger love To man and God. —L. J. G. 1:1 Blackwood’s Magazine. and I’ll keep the lire going. I’ll man tnoro calmly i here. I A DESERT DREAM. Of the four who had steamed past the Needles and away under tho low back of the Dorsetshire coast six months be fore only two were left. Of these two Lee-Carson van the worse ease. The fever mist was drawn like a silk en cobweb low aeross the swamp, hiding tho black rye shaped pools and the va riegated putrescence of rotting vegeta tion. The heavy air rang with tho shrill pinioning of wild fowl changing their haunts and the ceaseless ‘‘trout, trout” of tho bullfrogs in tho quagmires round. Tho two men were making a fire on a dark gre< n ridpo somewhat raised above the chilling level of the marsh. “Tho mist is rising.” said Lee-Car- son. “Oh, fer a sixth story attic!” ‘‘I’d bett'r go and shoot something befero it gets any higher,” said the ether man. “What was it you knocked over down there?” nodding back at the swamp. “Only a long beaked atrocity, species unknown. A brace of duck or a widg eon would suit us better.” ‘‘Give mo flesh and not fowl, the ocza bred, mud breasted progeny of this forsaken swamp! Give me corned beef or German sausage, for I’m sick of feathers!” "Thrco more days should do it, ” re marked Gramme] cheerfully, with a broad optimistic glance westward, V where, however, there was no reassur ing break in tbo dead realiko level of ' the horizon, above which brooded a sul len sunset. “Then go on and leave me^ere with food and ammunition. You can come back for me afterward. ” “I’ll get supper first, ” said Crammcl. ‘‘Keep the lire in. ” When his companion was gone, Lec- Carsou lay down beside tho smoldering blaze, and his eyes wandered slowly over tho unending vista of seething mist. Presently ho began to talk out loud. ‘‘Gramme! could reach the highlands if I were out of tho way. I’m dying anyhow, and it seems a pity— i‘A day less or tnoro, at sea or ashoro, Wo die—(loea it matter when’r ‘‘No, it doesn’t mutter. It’s a relief. Grammel won’t leave mo, so I’ll leave him. ” He drew a shotgun toward him. “Loaded for swamp fowl, ” he said as ho snapped it to and laid it on his knee. “I’ll not write a note to you, Grammel, because you would werry yourself, being a fool. No, I’ll come to a nicely arranged natural end. It’s waste to let two men die when death only puts in a claim for cue. Grammel will get through this and lecture before tho Geographical society about the swamps and the forests and our scientific researches, end then he’ll write a book with the help of a female literary cous in and marry her afterward, and then there’ll bo little Grammels, and I—I’ll bo forgotten. ” Then ho made Lis arrangements with tho gun. It hud a u2 inch barrel, and Loe-Carsou’s Laud was unsteady, for ho was very weak. Therefore when the charge sputtered into tho mud aud rush behind his shoulder he sank down in sensible. When Grammel returned, be found tbo fire blackening and his comrade with his feet tangled in a tuft of grass aud the gun lying across his chest. Grammel examined him hastily. “So that was your little game, was it? As if I shouldn’t have known!" he ex claimed. “It’s all so like the young ass, too,” he added gently. Within an hour tho night had closed in, and Lee-Carson, wrapped up in a blanket and a couple of empty provision sacks, sat blinking over the lire made of dried reeds and the moldering remnants of a forest and shivered, his head hum ming with the SO grains of quinine which was to le his garrison against the now almost due attack of swamp fever. Grammel, from the other side of the fire, watched him narrowly through the smoke and wondered how soon it would bo safe to make him comfortable with part of his ow n clothing. “I wish you wouldn’t sit there and stare like a night owl, Grammel,” Lee- Carson war saying fretfully. “1 like be ing alone when I’ve a go of this mon grel malaria. If yeu would push on to the higher ground, you might save us botli.” “I’ll etart when the moon rises,” ro- [died Gramuu 1 with ready untruthful "Tbat’B all right, drowsily. “Pile up said the sick nia:i those reeds at my clboi do.” Grammel rose at once and b<^gan to arrange the heap of reeds to humor his companion’s fancy. Lee-Carson leaned against them and j dozed, and Grammel, seizing the oppor tunity, added his own blanket to the other’s coverings. 1 Lec-Carscu opened his eyes with an effort. i “Once too often, friend Grammel,” he said. Grammel glanced confusedly at tho offending blanket. “I’m not sleepy,” he replied. “Be sides I’ll be starting presently.” “Tnkeitotf,” was the peremptory rejoinder. * ‘'Let me make up the fire first,” said Grammel, temporizing, but lie w'us sav- | ed further argument, for tho fever was gaining upon the sick man. "What’s that?” exclaimed Leo-Cnr- ( son nervously, struggling to sit up. | "They are coming. That’s the tram pling of the hoofs. ’’ “Dare say they are,” said Grammel, witli a vague wish that there was a hoof | within 200 n iles of them. “You might try to rest now. ” Lee-Carson made no reply, but sank back obediently on his blankets, where he lay moaning and muttering in an aneasy half consciousness. Thus tho night wore on. Then because the desolation was so | Intense Grammel began to grumble. His ! roice rang like a minor undertone through tho resonant booming of tbo bitterns and the harsh chorus of the frogs in the pools and feus around them. “Half this tobacco’s soaked, ” ho said, sniffing contemptuously at tho hollow ; of his hand, "and the rest tastes like smoked porridge steam, but I suppose it’s better than breathing in this fetid fog in its native nastiness. Pah, it’s chilly too! I don’t think”— Ho stop ped. Lee-Carson was singing, a broken ! line or two at first; then his voice rang out clearly: “Thus, as the spreading ocean Conquers a sandy cocst. Each tide has borne us lurthcr, To inuil'u lonelier post. “It’s only doggerel, ” ho went on, with a weak laugh, “hut it warms a man’s veins, aud it’s true. I tell you it’s true!” Tho big man opposite cat very still and listened. Lco-Carsou ran on in tho irascible monotone of delirium: "Fcrdisou and Chester died, you know—wiped cut with fever. Fordison died just at dawn—a wet, low dawn only as high as the tops of tho trees. That was in the forest when wo were making for higher ground, and Gram mel—good old Grammel—buried him aud planted a rock on his chest.” A spurting blaze flamed out of tho reeds, aud Lee-Carson half rose. ‘‘You must do it to keep tho hyenas off, yen know,” he proceeded solemnly. “Do yr.n think we’ll find it an impedi ment on resurrection day? But I sup pose it’s no worse than a coffin with tenpenuy nails, is it, Gram?” “Of course not,” answered Grammel. “Do that up!” But Lee Carson wandered on. “Aud Chester—tho hyenas have him —if the crocodiles left any. They’re birds of a feather, crocs and hyenas. What’s one man’s meat—one man's meat— How does it go? I can’t remem ber, ” be sobbed petulantly. The red glow of the fire burnt like a plague spot upon tho broad, dark breast of the waste as Crammel fed it silently. Tho wearying, hollow voice went on: "You’re looking very pretty this morning, Alice, with tho sun shining in your hair. You knew I’d come back, didn’t you, darling?’’ He looked across admiringly into Grammel’s bearded face. "Let’s set tho rattrap in the sta ble. Where is it? I can’t find it.” Thou from tho far distance of tho marshes came indescribable noises that sounded like Titans laughing, the balls of feu fire rolled, dimly seen, through the fog, while Lee-Carson got exceed ingly afraid because ho fancied that he was on board a steamer on a thick night, and that a collision was immi nent and the skipper not properly certi ficated. “I tell you, man, I see her lights. There I” he cried, strung like a harp with excitement, pointing a shaking hand into the darkness. “She’s working round all right,” said Grammel soothingly. “Can’t you hear the sailors singing?” adding to himself, "If I can only get him on his songs, that will quiet him dowu perhaps.” Lee-Carson responded to this at once, his eyes blazing. "1 can hear them. Oh, Lord, it is good!” he exclaimed, and seemed to lis ten, then added mysteriously: “But it’s not the sailors. It’s—<lou’t you know their voices? Why, it’s Fordison and Chester—aud—aud the rest. ” Aud the high, trembling voice was once more raised to join in the song: “But northward, e4i*t and westward. And under the tropic sky, The price that we paid to conquer Were the men who were proud to die)" lie chanted it over and over, till tho taut sinews loosened, aud ho fell back exhausted aud lay still for many min utes. Presently Grammel crept round and covered him up carefully Lee-Carson’s sleep was the sleep of exhaustion, but it was better than no sleep at all. After awhile Grammel, too, lay down and slept. When Lee-Carson woke, a huge red moon on the horizon seemed very close to his eyes, and he called out wildly: “Grammel, Grammel! Curse yon, Grammel, you’re dead!" Aud from tho other side of the fire Grammel answered him, his dry lips bleeding as they parted: “Dead? Of course I’m not!” “What’s death?” began Leo-Cnrsou again. “Don’t let tkat moon dance and gleam in my eyes; it gets into my brain Grammel, what’s death?" “ ‘A sleepjtud a forgetting,’ “quoted Grammel, at his wits’ end. “No, it’s not that," said the sick “Grammel, come He groped about friendly hand that met his. Look! Tho other side of tho THE DELUGE STORY, cobra stories of India. for flic “Look! fire!” When Grammel could get his heavy eyes open, he looked across aud saw nothing only tho snake tongues of tho flame leaping at intervals into tho moonstruck gloom. "There’s uothi’jg,” ho said shortly. Grammel had no imagination; hence he was at a loss, not knowing what ho was expected to see. “Nothing?’’ repeated Lee-Carson, peering anxiously forward. “No, I see nothing now. Perhaps I dreamed. I think I’m going out. Most people die iibout tho dawn. ” “Hot!” said Grammel lamely. Lee-Carsuu’s lips parted in tho old whimsical smile. Pnsently bo .said, “I’ve se-m things, Grammel, and I’d like to tell you what I saw.” Grammel was sitting close by, his hands clasped round his knees. Being tho man ho was, ho said nothing, only waited to hear. “Through the night I've seen them galloping past, squadrons and squadrons of mounted men — cur fellows, you know. ” Grammel shook his head impercepti- j bly. “I shouted to them. I shonted who we were, but they were riding fast east- I ward. ’ ’ “No man rides cast, ” eaid Grammel, looking up. “You don’t understand,” said the sick man gently. “You don’t know who they are. They’re the frontier men of England, and their recruiting sergeant’s death! Don’t you remember? “They ride for ever up and down To guard the land they won. Don’t you see them? Don’t you see them —now? They’re calling me, aud I can t go! Oh, the morning of life is sweet, but this is better! The end is coming, Grammel; it’s coming fast!” Ho lay down again, moaning, aud Grammel mixed much brandy with a little mud and water and gave it to him. In a little while Lee-Carson moved, his face distorted in the torchlight of the fire as ho shouted huskily: “Fordison, Chester, stop. I’m com ing. I shan’t bo long, and then we’ll ride together Grammel will come, too ; —some day. He’ll never die between sheets, good old Grammel. I wonder if he’ll ride 10 stone as a ghost?” He laughed out suddenly, and Gram mel muttered in his beard: “He’s gut it bad—very bad.” “We’ll ride past cur graves together i and scare the beasts. We’ll gallop into i the sunset. Who’s with yon? Oakwood and Tommy Brown, all of them,” aud i in his delirious transpert ho tore tho ; blankets from him. “I have known many good things in life—sea dawns and ships rushing through the arteries of tho world, but this is better than all.” Grammel had started up and was lis tening intently. Still tho voice, strain ed to breaking pitch, rang on. ] “They start with us on cur expedi tions, they head our armies. The frou- i tier men of England. lie-enforced iuev ery border lizzie—by the bullet—by tho stab—by the swamp fever. You at home, you needn’t weep”— Ho ceased l to peer anxiously out into the gloom of I tbo swamp. “Are you there, you fel lows? I can’t see you. That's afl right. < No one dies alone in tho waste or the desert, you’re always there to see him die. I wish I'd told Grammel, he’d tell the rest. At every advance they’re with ns, aud when v/e die no man is left to die alone. They aro always there—wait ing.” It almost seemed to Grammel that he could hear the trampling hoofs of that shadowy squadron. A chill wind stirred tho vapors of tho marsh. “I smell the dawn.” Lee-Carson rais- ! ed his head. "I’m coming with tho , dawn. I know how it will rise, like the wet glistening side of a white bull over tho sodden rim of tho marshes. Oh, the glory of it!” ho shrieked. “All tho men who have passed away into the unknown and died on tho ?dgo of the flood. Ali of them. “Forever riding up ami down To guard tho land they wen. “And when Armageddon comes they’ll bo there, the glory of the ages. The men who were planted with a stone on their chests to murk tho frontiers of the world.” With an unexpected strength ho sprang up aud tottered forward, his voice still calling, as he ran with a wild shambling run into tho dimness of the daybreak. The light was filtering through the cold gray air as Grammel came up with him. Lee-Carson lay with his Lead among the brown leaf sockets of a wa ter plant, his hands full of black ooze —dead. Grammel raised him with strong, ten der hands. “Fever breeds fancies—and visions. We know that. Yet,” ho glanced about him oddly into tho mists, “tho frontier men may more by one,” he said. “Who can tell?”—E. aud H. Heron in Cornbill Magazine. IMPORTANCE OF THE TABLETS DIS COVERED BY PERE SCHELL. Clouda ef Smoke. It is not safe nowadays to ring in n flro alarm because a iiasserby sees smoke pouring from tko front window of a dwelling house. Even to cry “Fire!” and to sprint for a policeman shows ig norance of what may he and probably is. Tho most a promenader should do if ho thinks he sees a house ou fire (unless there are unmistakable fiames) is to ring tho front door bell aud inquire cautious ly if the peraou who lives there knows that clouds of something which looks like smoke are proceeding from his house. Should a servant answer tho bell, the questioner may “get tho dotr in his face.” A member of tho family—if the smoke is in a polite district—would ex plain without offense that tho smoko was genuine enough, but the house was not on fire. “Up stairs the young people are taking flashlight pictures, ” would bo the statement.—New York Press. Tlioy Are listed Seven Cc-r.tnries Before Mosei!—Poetical Kecord of the flood Which Differs Somewhat From the Ac count Given In Genesis. The announcement by Pero Scheil, the French Assyriologist who has given so much time to study of the collections in the museum at Constantinople, that he hud discovered a Babylonian account of tho deluge much older than Moses was so interesting to tho Biblical stu dent that we asked the discoverer for an account of it. He kindly consented, aud his account—the first published in America and, we think, in Europe—will be of no little interest. Every Biblical scholar knows that the Hebrew account of the deluge found in Genesis has been paralleled by two Babylonian accounts—one that of Beru- su3, a Babylonian historian, whose nar rative has been handed dowu to us by early Greek Christian writers, and the other that found on Assyrian tablets by George Smith. Both resemble and yet both differ from the Genesis story. | Biblical critics have differed as to the ago of tho Biblical story, the more con servative holdiiig that, being written by Moses, it is older than his time and was incorporated by him into the book of i Genesis, while the newer school of crit ics were until tho discovery of the Tel- el-Amarna tablets inclined to believe that the story was borrowed from Nin eveh or Babylon at the time of the cap tivity or not long before it, at which time the book of Genesis was written. The discovery by George Smith of a full poetical account of the deluge ou tablets in King Assurbanipal’s library at Nineveh was of immense interest, but it did not assure us of tho age of the deluge story among tho inhabitants of the Euphrates valley, for it was ou tab lets written in Assurbanipal’s reign, that is sesreo GOO years before Christ. To be sure, these were said to be copied from tablets in Babylonian libraries, but wo did not know how old these original tablets were. Besides the del- 1 age story was on the eleventh tablet in a long poem, compiled in 12 books, cue for each month, in n quite artificial | way, and might belong to a compara- 1 lively late period of religious and lit erary syncretism. Tho original Baby lonian tablets, from which the Assyrian copies were made, were much desired. ! Now Pero Scheil has made tho dis covery. To be sure, tho record ou the tablet does not amount to much, it is sueli a fragmentary bit, but it is largo enough to make sure that the tablet con tained tho story of tho deluge, and, most fortunately, tho most important part of all is preserved, the colophon, | with tho date. It is dated in the reign of Acuui-zadnga, king of Babylon, and wo knew that he reigned about 3140 B. j C. That is, wo have here a precious bit of clay on which was written a poetical story cf tho deluge, seven centuries be- j fore Moses and about tho time of Isaac or Jacob. That is enough to make tho discovery memorable. Wo learn posi tively that the story of the deluge was , familiar to the common people of Baby lonia, and therefore of all the cast from I fcSyria to Persia. Professor Sayco has lately stated, misapprehending Pero Scheil’s oral an- ! nouucemcnt, that the new text verbally agrees with that discovered by George Smith, showing the care and accuracy i with which tho document was preserved ' from generation to generation, with “no i change even in the form of a single i word.” This is not the fact. This is an entirely different redaction, and Pero Schell suggests that different cities would have thedr different poetical edi tions of the story. This fragment be longs to tho story current at Sippara, where the fragment was found, and we may suppose that the account given by Berosus was also from the Sippara edi tion, for Berosus tells us that Xisuthrus (Noah), before the flood, buried in Sip para the records of tbo world’s antedi luvian history. Tho cuneiform account discovered by George Smith seems to have originated in the city of Surippak. At any rate the Noah of that story came from tho Surippak. There are in that account no such passages us we have in this new fragment, which shows that we have to do with another version, wo do not know how old, for it is itself a copy from a partly effaced original. This text is in poetry. It proves that the poetic construction was fixed mure than 2,000 years before Christ. Each line is divided into two hcmistichs, as in Hebrew poetry. Tho fragment is largo enough to show that it is a poem full of polytheistic and mythical details, of which the Gen esis version has been thoroughly purged, giving us a tale purely monotheistic, absolutely ethical and fit to give reli gious instruction to an unscientific peo ple in the infancy of civilization.—New York Independent. A British Soldier'* Ml*take—How * Hood ed Snake Saved a Lire. “I. was three years? after tuo clwo of the Indian mutiny that I came imar los- ! iug the members of my mess in a fright ful way,” said John Bain, who served in the British 'g'.uhy in India until thirty odd years ago. “My company had been ordered into the Deshwur dis trict, 150 miles north of Cawupur, to break up the dacoits, who had become very troublesome there. I was one of a detail sent, under command of a lieu tenant, against a band of these robbers who bad made a stand in a little jungle village. Wo arrived there in the night, formed their intrenclmieht by moon light, killed or captured a round dozen of the dacoits and chased the rest into the jungle. Some cf us followed them on foot among the reeda and bushes, but soon got tired of this useless busi ness and were quite willing to stop aud turn back at the sound cf tho recall. Our hospital steward, a native, and a good one, was by my side. My canteen had been emptied on the march, and 1 was parched with tho thirst that fol lows fighting. Something among tho bushes, glistening on tho ground like water, caught my eye. “ ‘It’s a stagnant pool left by tho rains, but it’ll serve to wet my throat,’ I said, aud was for throwing myself dowu ou my very belly to drink from it. But the steward pulled mo hack. “ ‘Nay, sahib, stay! Lend mo your sword for a moment, ’ ho said. “Ho took tho sword and lightly stir red tho pool with its point. From the middle of tho pool a cobra’s hooded head arose, aud there came the sound ot its hateful hiss. With a sweep of the sword tho steward cut the reptile’s In ad off, and at once what had seemed to me a water pool became the writhing coils ot a serpent that had been fully six feet in length. “‘That was your pool, sahib,’ the steward gravely said. ‘It is well that you paused before attempting to drink from it.’ “The white belly and greenish back Trying the Pew. “One of the things we have to con tend with, ” said a trustee of a promi nent church, “is the woman who w: nta to ‘try’ a pew before routing it. Now, wo have no desire to force any one to > i5 where she doesn’t want to, or still mere to sit in an undesirable pew, aud we aro always willing that a newcomer should test for herself the desirability of any pew before she decides to rent it, I at when it comes to half a dozen ’tests of tho same pew, only to declare that she doesn’t like it, and followed by j; half dozen more ‘tests,’ each of half a dozen different locations, it is tiresome, to say tho least, and ouo becomes suspicions cf tho woman’s intentions. Yet that is what, well—moro women than 1 should care to name make a practice of doing. “They will como here, and with tho greatest show of interest and enthusiasm will consult some one in authority about taking a pew. Before deciding upon ouo they wish to ‘try’ it, however, and by tho process abovo described they go ou and ‘try’ others. Such women sometimes succeed in thus getting a free sitting in the church for a whole year, after which they rarely appear. Wheth er their religious enthusiasm dies out or whether they are afraid of having ad mission refused them upon tho old basis I don’t know, but a year is usually tbeir limit. What becomes of them? Well, my private conviction is that they’re off ‘working’ some other church as they have ‘worked’ us, irrespective of dogma, creed or sect. All churches that main tain a pew rental system suffer from this most unscrupulous method of get ting religion free.”—Now York Sun. of tho cobra, lying coiled in the moon beams, had looked exactly like a water pool. But for the steward’s warning I should have thrust my face down into that hideous coil. “There was a case I knew in which a cobra saved a British army officer’s life —not intending in the least to do so, of course. The officer had gone with a de tachment to a district in northern India to bring to order ouo of tho hill tribes that had been making bobbery and had killed a civil officer or two. His quarters were at the bungalow of the magistrate of tbo district. Ho had got things quiet ed down among tho tribesmen, aud ev erything safe, to all appearance, and was preparing to take things easy when one night, sleeping at tho bungalow, Lo heard a cobra moving about iu his chamber. A cobra looking about for prey or when ready to fight rears its head and about one-third of its body straight upward from tho ground, aud ns the bed ou which ho lay was a low one tho officer know tout if tho cobra came to it he was very likely to get bit ten. At any movement he made the co bra would hiss, showing that it was in an unpleasant temper, and, to make things worse, tho officer’s night lamp had gone out, so that he could ouly judge of the suako's position by sound. “He stood the Atruiu as long as he could aud made up his miud that ho would at any rate get to a place where the snake could not reach him. ' A tall dressing case stood against the wall, about six feet from tho head of the bed. Tho officer reached out to a chair, set it half way between tho bed aud tho dress ing case, and then stopped from tho bed to the chair, and from tho chair to tho top of tho dressing case. There ho was safe from tho cobra. “As ho perched on tbo dressing case in tho dark, thinking how ridiculous aud uncomfortable his position was. two hiilmcn stole in at tho door, rushed to the bedside aud struck fiercely with their tulwars the heap of bedclothing where tho officer had lain before they discovered that ho was not there. Tho snake set up a loud hissing, which seemed to convince the assassins that the officer could not he in the room, and they went away without seeing him, passing the dressing case not a step away. Tho cobra presently crawled out cf the room through the door they bad left opeu, aud the officer was able to got down from tho dressing case aud raise ah alarm. Thu two hillmeu he never caught, but ho slept with a sentinel at his door during the rest of his stay iu tho district.”—New York Sun. Tho Hppchor Ab'.^ut!iiin<lc<tiier.a. In her early married life Mrs. Stowe wrote to her husband, “The abseuce of mind and forgetfulness that so often vexes you is a physical infirmity with me.” These words are very pathetic, illustrating, ns they do, tho stress of these years when mind and bedy were so sadly overtaxed. Thiaabscutminded- ihfs was one of her traits all through life and recalls cu anecdote of Mrs. Stowe. One day, long after rha had written “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” she passed through a ferry gate and was going ou her way, apparently unconscious cf her surroundings, when a gentle voice said to her, “You have forgotten to pay your fare, madam.” tihe looked around, to meet a kindly face, as tho gentleman uncovered Ids head before her, while his reverence fer the author of “Undo Tom’s Cabin” and his chivalry toward all women illumined his face. She look ed at him a moment and smiled radi antly as she laid down tho fare. “I am a Beecher,” she said, and with that transfiguring smile still upon her face she passed ou and was lost in the crowd. What thoughts came to her as sbo spoke those words we may never know, but she spoke them with a simplicity that was absolutely sublime aud seemed to compress in its hidden meanings tho history of a mighty race. She lived many years after that, but something of the eternal calm of this absentmiudeil- ness seemed to be always about her and a part of her existence long before she passed into the other life.—New York Tribune. Rheumatism Is a blood disease and only a blood reme dy can cure it. So many people make the mistake of taking remedies which at best are only tonics and cannot possi bly reach their trouble. Mr. Asa Smith, Greencastle, Indiana, says: “For years I have suffered with Sciatic Rheuma tism, which the best physicians were un able to relieve. I took many patent medicines but they did not seem to reach my trouble. I gradually grew worse until I was un able to take my food or handle myself in any way; I was abso lutely helpless. Three bottles of S.S.S. re lieved me so that I )was soon able to move my right arm; before long I could walk across the room, and when I had finished one dozen bottles was cured completely and am as well as ever. I now weigh 170.” For Norwich mid ilcrriu£ Pye. many centuries the city of Nor way She Wanted u Pint. Ethel is small, but extremely sober minded and therefore to be trusted to run on household errands. Tho other day her mother called her from her play and said, “Ethel, I want yon to run over to tha grocer’s and get mu a quart of vinegar. ’* Ethel leaked thoughtful aud hesitat ed. "I’d rather get j^pint, mamma,” she answered. “Why, Ethel, dear?” exclaimed her astonished parent. “I heed a quart, which you must get.” Again the little girl paused. “No,” she said, “I’ll get you a pin*.’’ “I’m surprised at yon. Why^shctild you buy a pint when I wish a quart?” insisted the mother. “Because,” answered Ethel, the tears beginning to come, “lean say ‘pint,’ aud I can’t say ‘krort.—New York Sun. wich, in respect of tho manor of Carle- ton, was liable to provide annually 2-1 herring pies for the royal kitchen. Bloiuefield, in bis “History of Nor folk,’’referring to this quaint service, prints a letter from the household officers of Charles I, making “divers just exceptions” to the quality of tho pies which hud been forwarded by the city sheriffs. The main exceptions read as follows: “First, you do not scud them accord ing to your tenure of tho first new her rings that are taken. “Serondly, you do not cause then to be well baked iu good and strong pastyo, ns they ought to be, that they may en dure the carriage the better. “Thirdly, whereas you should by your tenure bake iu these pastyes six- score herrings at tho least, being the great hundredth, which doth require t to be put iuto every pye at tho least, fiud but fuwer herriugs to bo in div ers of them. “Fourthly, the number of pyes which you scut at this tymuwo find to bo few er than have been sent heretofore, aud divers of them muck broken. "Aud, lastly, we' understand tho bringor of them was constrained to make three several journeys to you be fore he could have them, whereas it seemuth he is bound to come but once.” | —Char, ijers* Journal. | Ml I mm r l A Real Blood Remedy. S.S.S. cures Scrofula, Cancer, Eczema, and any form of blood troubles. If you have a blood disease, take a blood medi cine—S.S.S. (guaranteedpurely vegeta- tablc) is exclusively for the blood and is recommended for nothing else. It forces out the poison matter permanent^ ly. We will send to anyone our valuable books. Address Swift Specific Co., Atlanta, Ga. sss J. E. WEBSTER, Ajttorne;y-A.t- Oftico in Court House. (I’rolcitc .1 udire Gaffney City, S. C. Practices in all the courts. Collet- tions a sneclaltv. X. XV. ATTORNEY AT LAW, lIlackMburic ttncl Onffney, SS. O. XW1I.L practice In all the Courts. I can bo reached over the ‘phone from fur- roll A Stucy’s Hunk. 111 my ottice In Hlueks- hurtt. ut uny moment. O. L. SCIIl’MCKHT. Wm. Tuns. B. BcTi.ru. McGowan. SCHUMPERT, * BUTLER - &« VcGOWAV, ATTOU J* K YU-.VT-I.AW. Union and Gaffney, 5. C. Very careful unit prompt uttemlon xlven to nil hnsDicss entrusted In us. itrv itu’llcu in ull Hie courts.