Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THE LEDGER: GAFFNEY’, S. C., NOVEMBER 10, 1898. 3; LIFE. A kifsinc of the lips of dawn, And then we wake; A chase for sunl« ams < n the lawn, Our way we take. A kissing of the lins of fate, A kis.-ing of the lips of strife. Struggling while the day grows late, And this is life. A broken sword placed l ack in sheath, A stealing back to nature’s breast, A kissing of the lips of death. And then we lest. —William Wilfred Campbell in Sketch. A HOOK HEROINE. If the womau who pave the ball counted for little socially, the world contented itself with l«avinp a card and muttering, “What a bore to have to go out of one’s way for that!” If, on the • outrary, she was a leader, the duty of a call on her reception day became a pleasure. Today, for example, every body was there. What a coming and going! Meetings in the vestibule, at the coupe door; hand shakings on the stairs; smiles and salu tations from opposite ends of the salon. Among the groups around the tea ta bles were heard hasty little conversa tions like there: “My dear, I cannot wait for you”— looking at the bracelet watch. “I have been here already IS minutes.” “Lend mo your pencil. I have lost mine from my list. I must cross off the Thursday visits I have made today. I have made three and have three more. I am heroic”— “Look at Angelo (lelo! He is the only young man I know who always pays his visits. Who”— “Always? You mean since he is in love with Louise Yaldori. Calls are his only opportunity of seeing her. He is in love. ” “She is a flirt”— “Are you going to the dinner Mon day?” “Yes. Who else will be there— Flavia?” “No, bnt she expected an invitation. She is furious”— “It is amusing to watch Angelo Gelo passing milk and sugar and marrons glaces”— “What echeming just to be with Louise Valdoril A minute ago there was n flue chance—an empty chair at her side, but lie was too late. Somebody else has it. Look at him! Stuck between two old witches whom he detests. Obliged to do the polite, He isn’t lis tening to them. His eyes are always in the same direction.” Among all these embryonic conversa tions one only seemed to have form and comparative continuity. It was the fol lowing: “How aro you, Louise?” “Well. How aro you?” “Very well. I want to present my cousin, here from Pisa this week—La Marehesa Valdori.” “Will you bo with us for any length of time?” “I say, Louise, I cover see your hus band about. What lino thing is ho do ing now?” “Writing.” “To whom?” “ Writing a novel. ” * “Writing a novel?” The ladies were convulsed with laugh ter. What an extraordinary thing. Not that a gentleman could not do such a thing. There was nothing dishonorable in it, but still it was comical. For men of position there were always races, clubs, theaters, flirtations, balls, the county politics—so many things, in fact. But to tie oneself to a table like a professor! There aro people made for that—people whom no one knows nor receives. But a literary dilettante—a gentleman writer—what an innovation! Exclamations, jokes, questions flew about. No one asked if he had real ability. “Has ho shown you any of it?” “No, ” said the marehesa. “I found it in his writing desk. Hu hides it and does not wish mo to see a line. ” “Tell us all about it. How amusing it will be! Roberto is so attractive, rides so well, is so witty, and then he is observing, a rare thing in a man. He notices and remembers what wo wear.” “I am crazy to know about it,” said Louise, “but you know how men are at times—impossible to make them talk. When Roberto went to serve as second for Theodore in his duel, do you fancy he breathed a syllable to me about it? Not a word. ” "And when will it be published?" “I tell you I do not know a thing about it.” Angelo Gelo approached the group. Thu women melted away unostenta tiously. There was in them a tacit de sire to be repaid under similar circum stances with like consideration. This is what they call being women of the world—being intelligent. The Marehesa Valdori, being somewhat ingenuous, had a terror of making a mistake; of not being in every point like other fashion able women. Therefore she asked anx- fuusly of Angelo: “Tell me, like a good friend—upon your honor—is it a ridiculous thing for a man to write a novel?” “Ufa, no; not exactly, "said he, laugh ing; “it is simply a bore for the person who writes it—sometimes for those who read.” Two weeks later, Roberto Valdori having gone to the country, his wife profited by his absence to rummage in his desk. In the flrst drawer, exactly on top, in the most couspicnons place, was the manuscript. Louise locked the door, established herself in the great arm chair and settled herself to enjoy the reading of an unpublished forbidden book. There were not more than 40 pages, neatly written in the large and manly hand of one who hates to write a letter, but succeeds in 111 ling an entire line with a single adverb. No tit!*; no chapters. In the flrst four pages the marehesa was doubtful. Would she be proud of the author or no? Printed, what effect would it have? At present it lacked the indescribable something of her yellow French novels; was less attractive. The real story seemed never to beigu. But, continuing, a coquettish young woman appeared on the scene who interested Louise. She liked her at once; understood her. The writer made a sort of searching analysis of a young wife, impudent and frivolous, a reflec tion of her friends in good or in bad. From vanity, perhaps rather out of stupidity, she allowed a most popular young man to pay court to her; danced with him oftener than she should; met him in her daily visits almost by ap pointment and was charmed that her world observed her. La Marehesa, all eyes, breathless, continued reading with increasing curi osity. The heroine had a decidedly fa miliar air, did first and last the same things she herself did, might have been her cousin brought up with her, could almost have been herself. Frightened, her hflirt in her mouth, feeling herself pale, she dared not ex plore further. What other revelations awaited her? Suddenly Louise asked herself if her husbaud in a graceful body of 28 did not conceal the soul of an ob server of 50 years, and she shuddered. After an instant of hesitation, terror itself, mixed with a consuming desire to know, induced her to devour other pages and still others, until finally be tween astonishment and gratitude she reached an expression which the author had left unfinished, and there was noth ing more. She was horribly alarmed. It was as if she heard Roberto speaking to i her from the keyhole. Here were a hundred follies clearly described which she had not believed any man capable of perceiving. The indulgent, almost in different, companion had transformed himself into a severe critic, who under- | stood, admonished and condemned, t-he reread it, hoping to have been mistaken; but, no, it was herself. She became serious, gazed at the ceil ing, vaguely promised some superior be ing above never to do it again. Then she reflected. “If in society I change my manner suddenly, people ’ will notice it, Roberto especially. I ; must proceed slowly, with great tact, today omitting certain things, tomor row changing others. But, above all, she must tell Angelo Gelo that he must not seize every possible pretext for send ing her magnificent flowers and costly bonbonniercs. He invented occasions, among others a German St. Louise, that was not to be found in any calendar, bet with her on losing horses, lost philo- peuas purposely. She would beg him not to fix his glasses upon her in the theater for the entire evening in that little way he had which was so imper tinent and—and—so pleasing. All this gradually without explanations and without scenes, but at present, most im portant consideration, Roberto was still observing her. Nevertheless the weaknesses the auth or ascribed to his heroine could apply to a dozen of Louise’s friends. Perhaps, after all, Roberto’s observations were general. Therefore courage, silence and apparent indifference. The marehesa, however, continued to anticipate with horror the day in which the book would appear and their acquaintances would say after the flrst few pages, “It is clearly his wife!” and point her out. Heavens! it was as if Roberto had given her a rousing kiss during a promenade when the greatest number of carriages were passing or forced her to go to court in a house dress with her hair un combed. An uneventful week passed, and one morning Louise Valdori, pretty and frightened, awaited the arrival of Tullo Tulli. This small man and still smaller lit terateur was just beginning to frequent a few salons of good standing after hav ing all his life described them in com monplace novels. He had with a few friends established an amphibious re view in which psychological sonnets alternated with litanies of clothes anropos of local dances, and at present in the anterooms of all fashionable houses one saw the well known blue cover, with the wrapper still uncut. “Signor Tullo Tulli,” announced the servant. “How kind of yon to take the trouble to come to me!” exclaimed the mar- chesa, going quickly toward him. “You will forgive me, will you not? I was in such a hurry, and you are the only writer I know. ” Tullo Tulli at this last remark swal lowed with difficulty, and his monocle dropped. The signora talked u little hastily, without reflecting whether she wounded or not. The writer nervously smoothed his silk bat. This silk hat and his monocle hud recently succeeded his cloth cap and his glasses. He was not thoroughly accustomed to them as yet. “How can I serve you, madume?” he asked in a bittersweet voice. It an noyed him to be treated simply profes sionally. “First of all, it is a secret. Not even my husband knows it.” “Ah, a secret,” echoed Tulli, flat tered, and the monocle fell again. “Yes, Roberto is writing a novel that be doesn’t wish me to see, but without his knowing it I have read several pages —do not betray me. You must help me to fiud a good publisher and write a good article yourself to recommend it. I assure you it is very interesting, and you must epeak well of it to all your friends who write for newspapers, be cause I want to surprise Roberto and to save him all the annoying part of the publication. I think he will tie delight ed.” Tulli took on a doubtful air—almost an important one. “We will see,’’ he murmured. “It is rather difficult. Publishers are publish ers, you know. At all events, I shall be charmed to lend a hand, or give an opinion. I could come here some morn ing to look over the manuscript with the signor, marehesa. I would correct the proofs—in fact, use me as you will.” When the carriage of the inarches:* was announced, he took his leave. Louise Yaldori congratulated herself, admired herself. The idea of seeing Tulli was truly a happy and a daring cue. She clapped her hands like the baby she was and examined herself in the glass, rosy and blond, to be able to better enjoy her own joy. Roberto would pardon at once the indiscretion in view of the literary advantages that the support of a critic would give him. And then such zeal fev its publication would prove to him that she had not read anything between the lines of that which the writer intentionally and for reasons had put there. All this showed her spirit. The most adroit woman, if she had known her case, would have covered her with praise. Ten days later the Valdori couple were in the writing room waiting for dinner. La Marehesa, with trembling voice, bad just made her confession, which the husband had received with surpris ing magnanimity. One would almost say that he had foreseen it, even that he, with difficulty, restrained a smile, such a one as conies irresistibly when a plan succeeds, when a problem solvei itself. “All you women are alike—personi fied curiosity.” “True,” she said. Rrfcerto, pleased, pinched her cheek. Louise, somewhat reassured, was si lent a moment, then weakly, not sure how the thing would be taken, but still full of rosy anticipation, told the story of Tullo-Tulli, the publisher, the illus trator, the binder, the reporter who would be pleased to be asked to break fast. Roberto, astonished, exclaimed: “But are you crazy? I do not want all those people in my house, and, above all, I forbid you to receive that good for nothing Tulli. What right have you to talk to strangers of what I am doing? What a foolish idea; childish and use less”— “Why useless?” said she frightened. “Because I have never had the small est intention of publishing what I have written.” “Well, what then?” “Can’t I amuse myself by writing a romance for my own benefit, just as I practice with foils in my chamber with out an audience? Your friends who study the piano do not intend to give concerts. Do you send your embroidery to an exposition of woman’s work?” Louise, relieved of an enormous weight, could not easily conceal her sat isfaction. Heavy mountains of black clouds melted from her inner vision. “I am sorry,” she said. “I thought I was doing right.” Like all weak women, her eyes filled easily with tears. “Iknow! Iknow! Yon needn’t cry!” said he, calming himself. “But why did yon not consult me first?” “I do not know. I wanted to surprise you, show myself interested”— “ Well, now, without losing time, you must arrange all this. Sit here and write quickly to Tullo'-Tulli politely— it is best to keep friends with that sort of people. Say that you have talked with me of the romance, which unfor tunately is not for publication; that it was a joke; that you regret exceediug- ly”_ The little marehesa seated herself at the big table like a schoolgirl to write her examination. While she wrote and scratched out her lips were smiling in contrast with her wrinkled brows. Roberto looked at her tenderly. He was proud of the perfect snccess of his stratagem. To make a thing known without di rect explanation and without an inter mediary was the first secret of a quiet life. The more one comprehends, the less one say$, the better. Otherwise one risks spoiling everything. Certain things resemble Venetian glass. The servant announced dinner. “I have not finished,”cried the mar- chesa; “there is a sentence here I don’t like.” “Never mind. Let us go to dinner. I am hungry. I will help you afterward. Francesco, open a bottle of champagne. Louise, give me a kiss. ”—From the In dian For Chicago Times-Herald. Got Hla Kcward. “Just as I’d shut the gates one day,” said a guard on the elevated, “a man came running down the aisle of one of the cars wanting to get off. “ ‘Let me off, ’ he said. ‘Two minutes is important to me. ’ “The train had only just started, the man looked as though he meant what he said, and I swung the gate back and let him off. As he stepped on to the platform he turned and looked at the number on my cap. I could see that he’d got it, and he said to me: “ ‘I won’t forget you!’ “Well, I never saw or heard anything more of him for two years, and then one day he walked into the car. I knew him as soon as I saw him, and it seems that he remembered me. When he came along to the dcor at the station where he was going to get off, he said to me: “ ‘Aren’t you the man that Jet me off a train once a boot two years ago?’ “And I said yes I was, and with that be handed me over a cigar. “I lighted it up that night after I’d got home, but it was so bad I couldn’t smoke it, and I hud to throw it away.” —New York Sun. To My Friends. I am now clerking for S. B. Craw ley & Co., and wouhl be glad to serve you at any time. If you will send me your presciptions I will see that they are filled as the physician directs. Cu'l for me day or night, I’ll answer cheerfully. Yours truly, W. B. Drl’KK. It is no sign that a man is a fool because ho differs with us in opinion. Irregular Imwi-I iimvciiicnlHlead toclinuitc eiiMNlliutiiim. I'iui ki.y Asa Kittkiis Is a reliaii.e system regulator; cures perniuucnt- ly. Sold oy Cherokee I >riig Company. Cleanliness goes with health. If we have catarrh any' where we can- not be wholly »clean. Make system atic efforts to be free from this disgusting disease. Mrs. L. A. Johnston, 103 I’ilham and Ripley Sts., Montgomery, Ala., tells her experience with catarrh of the stomach and how she was cured: “ I will state to you that I have taken eight bottles of your Pc-ru-na and two of Man-a-lin and rejoice to say, ' God bless Dr. Hartman and Pe-ru-na.’ And I earnestly assure you that it has done me more good than any medi cine I have ever taken in my life. I prescribe it to every one I meet who is suffering, as the best medicine in the world, and have made many con verts who are now rejoicing in the great good which they have derived from the same. I can tell you that I am almost entirely relieved of indiges tion, that great foe which has tortured me so many years, and can now eat anything 1 desire without it is fruits or something acid.” To understand the scientific action of Pe-ru-na it is best to have Dr. Hart man's special book for women or his book on chronic catarrh. These books are mailed free by the Pe-ru-na Medi cine Company, Columbus, O. All druggists sell Pe-ru-na. A>k iiny druggist for a free I’e-ru-na Al- niauac for the year ISiHi. TAX NOTICE. TEe tax levy for Cherokeerounty for fiscal year, is'.is. Isas follows: For Slate pur|m>v's .5 mills. Const it ut ional School Tax 3 Ordinary County Tax I! “ Poor House and .lull I County Roads I “ For the townships of l.i meat one. White 1‘lains. ('lu-rokee Nos. land Hraytonville and Gowdey ville. for Past Indebtedness ... 1 “ Interest on Railroad Bonds, Hray- tonville and Gmvdeysville • For Sinking Fund. 1'ray ton ville a nil Gowdeyaville iq 44 Interest on Railroad Bonds, f.ime- stone. White Plains and Cherokee No. 2 Townships 1 ‘ , Interest on Railroad bonds. Chero kee No l Township ^ “ For Spartanburg Jail. Limestone. White Plains and Cherokee No. i !4 “ For Blacksburg Graded School Dis trict :t I will lie at the following places for the pur|H)sc of collecting taxes: At my office InUaffney from Oct. 15 to Nov. 14. Ezells. Tuesday. Nov. 15th. Maud. Wednesday. Nov. Itith, S to 12, a. m. Grassy Pond, Wednesday. Nov. Hi. 1 to 5, p.m. Macedonia. Thursday. Nov. 17. n to 12, a. ni. Thiekcty. Thursday. Nov. 17. 1 to 4. p. m. Buffalo. Tuesday, Nov. 22. a. m. Blacksburg. Tuesday. Nov. 22. p. in. Blacksburg, Wednesday. Nov.il. Grover. Thursday. Nov. 24. Kings Creek. Friday. Nov. 25. Cherokee Falls. Saturday. Nov. 211. White Plains. Tuesday. Nov. 2 < J. Brown’s Store. Wednesday. Nov. 30. Timber Ridge. Thursday, Dec. 1. T. D. Littlejohn’s, Friday. Dec. 2. Sarratt's. Tuesday. Dee. ti. Wilklnsvllle, Wednesday. Dec. 7. Allen's, Thursday. Dec. s. a. m. Draytonvflle, Thursday. Dec. K, p. m. At office Dec. 11 to 3J. Also commutation road tax for 1*W. due and payable from October 15th to December 31st. im .1. B. Jones, Co. Treasurer. Gaffney, S. C., Sept. 14. 1H0S. Executor's Notice. A LL persons holding claims against the es tate of Mrs. Massie Mott, deceased, are hereby not Bled to render to the undersigned an account of their demands, duly attested, on or before the tlrst day of December, next. LrTHER II. Davis. Executor Massie Mott, deceased. Oct27 3t-pd Executor's Notice. A LL persons holding claims against the es tate of John Pettit, deceased, are hereby required to tile the same with one of the un dersigned executors, duly proven, on or be fore the first day of December, next; and all persons owing saiil estate arc* requested to make payment on or In-fore the said date. B. G. L. Pettit. .1. W. W. Pettit. Edmitxd Pettit. Executors will of John Pettit, deceased. Oct. 27, IMis 3t-pd. Trespass Notice. N OTICE is hereby given that all parties are forbidden tec hunt on my premises un der penalty of t ice law. John K. Jefferies. 11-3-21 pd Administrators’ Notice. A LI. persons holding claims against the estati! of James Phillips, deceased, are requested to tile the same, properly proven, in the orth-c of Probate Judge for Cherokee County. S. C„ on or before the tlrst day of January. IM'!', and all persons Indebted to said estate are required to make payment to tin- uudersighed. Thomas P. Phii.i.ips. Adnt'r. Ksi.Jas. Phillps.de Bcti.eh ,v Oshoiixe. Att’ys. for Adm'r. November 2.1. IM's.-3t Notice of Administrator's Salt. B Y virtue of authority contained in an or der made by the Judge of Probate for County of Cherokee, we will sell ut Gaffney, M. C., on the 15th day of November. IMts. be ginning at in o'clock, a. m.. all of tbc per sonal property of the estate of J. G. Spencer, deceased, consisting of Iic-m'S. carriages, buggies, wagons, and all other personal property belonging to said estate. Thomas Hpexceh A K. S. Hpkhcek. Administrators of the estate of J. G. Spen cer. deceased. Gaffney, H. C., Oct. 24th. IMIS. FOR Up-to-Date Job Print ing, call at the LEDGER Office. Gaffney, S. C. WE NOW HAVE One of Hie Nicest Hearses in the Stais to use in town and country. Our large stock of Coffins, Gaskets, Robes and Undertakers’ Supplies surpass anv in Cherokee county. We have all sizes in all grades from the cheapest Coffin and Casket made to the best Metalics. We are also PREPARED TO EMBALM SUGGESSFULL V i We are ever ready to give our customers our best services and lowest prices. When in need of anything in this line don’t forget to call on Carroll, Carpenter & Humphries ■A-TJO-TJSTA., Q-_A_. BOB WHITE—Second Patent. GOLD MEDAL—Fancy Patent. ABSOLUTELY PURE WINTER WHEAT FLOUR 1 fully realize the supreme disgust of consume rs for Flour, adulterated with Corn Flour, Corn Starch, and other Foreign matter. On and after this date, August 10th, 1898, I offer the Wholesale trade the above Brands of Flour Guaranteed Absolutely Pure Winter Wheat Goods of the Highest type. I have a first-class, up-to-date Mill, capacity 600 barrels per day, run entirely by water power, located in the heart of the City, with every facility known to the business. Your orders will have prompt shipment, quick delivery and the best attention. 9&“ASK FOR PRICES Flour, Meal, Grits, Bran and Ship Stuff delivered your station. V&'UOUSEKEEPEHS Get prices from your grocer on BOB WHITE and GOLD MEDAL Brands flour—pure goods. J, M. BERRY, The Merchant Miller Aii Advertisement With your name attached to it and put iu thw space would he seen and read by evfcry reader who reads this ad. W believe it would ck> you good. Try it and see if it would not.