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Mtartiiiif m- THANSfORMATIUN. Dark, heavy rlouJs above, A louden a"a below, Anil wbero thou art, O I.ovcl I may not no. 1 look on laml and a a; 1 deem all things aa trrny; Life liold* no lijtht for me— Thou art away. Above the dull, dark eloud; Lh'low a leaden tide; Oh, weave a heavy r.hroud, Kur llojiO hath died! Delndd, the slee|»iiiK tide \ Stirs 'ncath a audden wind. / Tlie elouds are scattered wide And show behind. t t The blue of heaven; the earth Is (Maddened by the sun; Now Joy hath sudden buth ( New hopes are won. And 1. too, can rejoice! >l.i heart leaps with the tide. 1 fee thee, h ar thy voice. O Love, abide I - (braid Meyrick in St. Paul’*. *> £os*ottononoiiioi*o»co*ono»*o#{og I BRAINERD’S I i RECOVERY. | V o 2. Being: u Complication In a v * Lovo Affair Which Was o H Very Embarrassing:. m o o A j 040^0j0a»0<04«0a|0i*0^0'*0‘40a* “Sa.v, isn’t litis sntl about poor Brainerd?" Ktiid Bog Cobb, mcotiug me iu the bail at the Fishers’ the uight they gave a fancy dress party. Botli Cobb and I had been dancing, and had just left our partners to be re freshed in the supper room at the back, where there was no room for gal lants to stand behind chairs, “How do you mean, sad?" I asked. “He seems well enough. Iu fact, I was thinking just now that he hud much more color in his face titan lie used to before lie started for Colorado. Cot back this afternoon, didn't he?” “Yes. But have you talked to him?” “Only a passing word,” I said. “Why?” “Why? Why, because it’s a clear case of paresis,” said Cobb, speaking iu a grave undertone. “And the symptoms?” “Symptoms enough. lie’s forgotten everybody's name—almost. I’m aw fully sorry for poor Jennie Fisher, I must say." “But,” I said, “Brainord's been away from here quite two months, hasn’t lie? Well, and lie’s been having a 'busy time out there. I don’t see any thing so wonderful in ids forgetting a few names. Remember, he hasn’t Ijved here all his life, as you have.” “Nonsense, man,” Cobb insisted. “You haven’t talked to him. Do you suppose a man iu Ids senses could for get the name of the girl lie’s engaged to?” “Did he forget Jennie Fisher's name?” “.Mixed her up with her cousin Elsie.” said Cobb. “And you know those two girls are not a bit alike.” This certainly did seem conclusive. As I had always liked Jack Brainerd, ever since ho came to live and t* make money in our city, live years before, it troubled me a good deal to think that anything so sail us mental aberration should come upon him so early in life. He was not I felt sure. And, then, Jennie Fisher, the girl to whom he was supposed to be engaged, the daughter of our hostess that evening, was as sweet a girl as any in our community, and that is saying much. It would he a terrible stroke of ill luck if her life should bo blasted by this aliliction, all the more so at this time, when she must have been looking forward with the keenest delight to her dance’s return. While I stood thinking sadly over what Cobh had been telling me—he had left me to go hack to the supper room—Mrs. Fisher, in gray silk and jet, came sweeping through the double doors of the room where we had been dancing. “I want to talk to you,” she said. “The others are eating and drinking. Come in here.” We went back to the dressing room anti sat between a grand piano and a big palm that stood in the bay window. “Now tell me,” site went on. “What have you noticed about Mr. BrainerdV” “This evening?” “Yes. Or any time since his return from Colorado.” “But he only reached this city at 4 this afternoon, as I understand.” “And you itad not seen anything of him until you came here?” “No,” I said. “And since then I have only noticed that lie looks rather the better for ids trip.” “Rather more than a trip, wasn't it? Two months? But how better?” “Well,” I said, “stronger—belter com plexion—and then there’s a swing and u way of carrying ids shoulders, ns if he’d been drilling out there. Perhaps It’s just western ‘breeziness.’ ” “Il'm.” she said. “That’s all. Is It?” “Nothing more than that. I haven’t said more than a passing word to 1dm.” “Oh, you haven’t talked to him, then? Did he know you?” “I think lie did. Why?” “Did he know you?” “He seemed to. Como to think of it, he didn’t call me by name. But why do you ask?” “Simply because he scorns to be ei ther crazy—or intoxicated—to me.” “Impossible.’ I said. “Brainerd doesn’t drink, you know, Mrs. Fisher. And as for crazy”— “Well,” she Interrupted me impa tiently. “he seems to have forgotten poor Jennie or forgotten that they were engaged. Ho has attached him- self all the evening to Elsie.” 1 tried to smile tit Mrs. Fisher’s ntn- Jeties and talked commonplaces of phi losophy to her, telling her that those little eccentricities of lovers should not be dwelt upon too seriously. “If ve" will only give him time,” I said, “you’ll set* that it is some little tilT sprung up since he went west. Haven’t they been corresponding?” “Constantly. But Jennie herself Seems to take it seriously; otherwise 1 wouldn't care one lota. Mr Brainerd may go to Jericho for all 1 1».” But Mr. Brainerd seemed t In the icast Inclined to go In that Erection just at that time, for as Mi/ Fisher Spoke lit* walked in from the supper room with Elsie-- not Jennie Fisher on Ins arm. Elsie had a preoccupied look on her face iu fart, I may say, an em barrassed look. In one liaud site held u bunch of roses, and she dropped his arm to arrange them—ns a pretense— In a vase. And for what now follows I have to thank that kindly Catania palm that sheltered Mrs. Fisher and myself from the view of these loverlike two. “Sit still,” I said to Mrs. Fisher. “Eavesdropping is fair in u case like this.” Though evidently not quite sure that my casuistry was sound, Mrs. Fisher allowed herself to lie persuaded. Then we heard a scrap of conversation, which I am going to try to report us closely as my memory will serve; Elsie—Now, Just listen to me for five minutes. Brainerd—I have come a thousand miles for that very tiling and would go another thousand for another five min utes. She—Be quiet. Just tell me, please, what is the matter with you? You never used to drink. lie—I do now. Didn’t you see me swallow all that Roman punch a min ute ago? She—Mr. Brainerd, if you’re not tipsy, you ought to be ashamed of yourself— He—How? Do you think a man ought to be tipsy on one tumbler of Roman punch? She—1 mean, if you are in your senses, what can have made you treat my cousin Jennie as you have? He (evidently startled)—Your cousin Jennie? Who on earth— At tills point the young lady turned and fairly ran away, leaving Brainerd standing alone in the middle of the room. He seemed puzzled at some thing. We heard liim—or I did, if Mrs. Fisher did not—mutter to himself. ‘T’vc gone and made a botch of it, I guess.” Then he laughed to himself. In another minute we saw him walk slowly out into the hall, pulling at his mustache. Then it was time for us to break cover. We came from behind the palm and walked out into the hall, where Brainerd was found arguing with a servant about a crush bat and overcoat. “I think you have made a mistake, sir,” said the servant. “This is Mr. Barry’s hat. And lie pointed to the initials “H. B.” inside the crown in gilt letters. “Oh,” said Brainerd, “I see. Those are Mr. Barry’s initials, are they? Well, you see, it’s a mistake. The fool man who put those letters in took me for Mr. Barry—Harry Barry, eh? Or he thought my first name was Harry. Ha, ha! Here's half a dollar for you. That's my hat all right.” “doing already?” said Mrs. Fisher, standing close to his shoulder. “Oh!” he said, with a start. “I didn’t know where you were. Yes, I'm afraid I must be off. The journey lias rather knocked me out, you know. I’ve had a delightful evening of it.” The servant stared and Mrs. Fisher start'd and I stared as Brainerd walk ed hastily out through the swinging doors. Now, there is a wide, covered veranda outside the front door of that house, and the iioor of the veranda is boarded. That night—the house being in festival trim—a bright light burned under the roof of the veranda. Almost at the same moment that Brainerd, in evening dress, with a cape and a crush hat—whether ids or Barry’s—went through the swinging doors to the veranda, Brainerd, in a rusty tweed suit, witli a golf cap and a light overcoat, bounded in at the same door. We three—Mrs. Fisher, the servant and I—all stared. So did half a dozen people who stood behind us. Elsie, who was standing talking confidential ly to her cousin Jennie, fainted, with n piercing scream, though Jennie, strange to say, managed to keep perfectly cool. “Mr. Brainerd!” Mrs. Fisher almost shrieked. “You went out of that door a second ago!” “Jack Brainerd,” I said, “you have a double!” He stood stock still for one moment; then, muttering “1 thought so!” turned and dashed out again. In a few minutes—while we all crowded out on the porch, most of us believing we had spent a social even ing with a ghost—the mystery was cleared up. Brainerd in tweeds, breathless, re turned with Brainerd in evening dress a prisoner. “Here lie Is,” said Brainerd in tweeds. “Mrs. Fisher, my disgraceful twin brother Harry. I ran up against him on my way back here yesterday. He heard about—about Jennie—only I didn't tell him her first name. He pre tended lie was traveling the other way, then doubled on me and got here six hours or so ahead of my time.” “Why didn’t you ever tell Jennie about your twin brother?” I after ward asked Jack Brainerd. “She would have guessed how it was if you had only told her that.” “Well, that’s family history, old man. Harry is quite respect aide now, though. Ik* gave me proof of that when 1 met him by accident at Pitts burg. lie’s seen all our people at home, and been quite rehabilitated. So now 1 don’t mind if he does marry Elsie. lie’s had enough of the south west nyd the chaparral, and ho Isn’t half a bad fellow in reality.”—St. Tiouis Post-Disputel). iSooUkreiiinn; lonirM mirti. “It makes me tired," said the young mao—“those advertisements guaran teeing to tench a person bookkeeping for $10.” “But can’t It be done?" was asked. “Not on your life! Why, I spent six months and over $100 to learn the art, ami what do you suppose happened at the close of the first year?” “Hot your figures mixed?” "Well, I should smile! There was a discrepancy of $700 hot ween the cash book and my ledger, and my father had to make it good, while I limited for an other Job!”—Brooklyn Citizen. AN IRISH ROSE. I will nrad a ro.se across the rca All in a letter smoothly pressed. 1 / She will take the r<J, red rose from me And hide it in her breast. Her (miles will flash, her tears (MU start As if she saw her own loved shore, And a little thorn uill fderee her In art For the pleasant days of yore; For the pleasant days and the dear home way* Her father's voice, her mother’s smile, And her eyes will turn with a farotf gaze To the pensive, low green isle. For the stranger's land is not the land, However fair it he and bright! We tarry the old home in our hand. Our eyes reflect its light. Ant! the rose that grew by- the cottage door, The old home garden's joy and pride, She will prize it more and love it more Than ali earth’s flowers beside. I will not waste one crimson leaf Nor pluck one thorn from the prickly stem. It shall bioont In an exile's crown of grief A pure and perfect gem. —Ida Whipple Uenhain In Youth’s Companion. • c *:* o-I-o 4-o o *! • o ^ o-f oo-I-o-f o o nv LUCKY ESCAPE. Russian families, when moving to a new home, kindle the fire on the hearth with coal brought from the old residence. It Is strange, but true, that today will be yesterday tomorrow.—Chicago News. Kvory liny Atl'ords New I’roofa of (bn ]i<*. culi'ir eliccls of Pain-Kii.lrk. In Ciw-H where u din irdered eo idition (if Urn stom ach, liver and bowels is combined with great debijity, nerv us wo.iknosq i.ml inlens,i m-bmcholy, its effects urn most beneficial and wonderful. It should be kept by every family. Avoid sulrfitilutes, there is but one I’uiu Killer, Ferry Davis’. Price25e,and&0c. How a Llan Cume Near Losing a •’ Fortune. X O 6 4-ovo-:-o-i-ovo-:-o-i-o-:-o*Fo-:-ovO*j-o*;« A lucky fellow? Well, yes; no doubt I am. To have come into this fine place and $5,000 a year is a bit of luck for any man. You never saw may uncle and aunt. They were two nice old people, ex tremely kind and good uatured, but a trifle eccentric. My uncle was a self made man. He amassed bis fortune at cotton spinning. My aunt, before site married him, was a draper’s assistant iu Manchester. You really should have seen John Simmonds, the butler, a dear, delight ful. faithful old creature, perfectly de voted to the family, but one of the odd est men you ever saw. He never took a liberty or presumed ou the affectionate regard with which lie was treated by them. Yet lie often said to them tilings which if spoken by any other servant or in any other man ner than his own would have sounded inexcusable and even outrageous. “Doau’t thee be a fule, master!” 1 have often beard him say in his broad Lancashire to my uncle when the lat ter was proposing some step of which ids butler disapproved. When my uncle died—an event that nearly broke John’s heart the faithful servant constituted himself more than ever a guardian of the family interests. He looked after my aunt almost as if she had been a child. It gradually be came evident that site needed some looking after too. Her intellect had begun to fail a lit tle since my uncle’s dentil. And this wenkmiudedness of hers assumed a most absurd and, for an old lady, a most incongruous form. She imagined herself still suscepti ble to the tender passion—at 75. She (lisceveivd quite a penchant for flirta tions. Really it was downright laugha ble—at first. But the time was not long in arriving when the laughable aspect of the matter grew less pro nounced. There bad lately come Into the neigh borhood a certain retired major, by named Mallaby, a well kept Individual who looked 45 and was probably (;5— tall, handsome am! of ingratiating manners and address. Anything so flagrantly absurd as an affair between my aunt and this elderly bachelor I had never imagined. And if it had not been for John, my eyes would probably have remained shut until it was too late. One morn ing. however, John came into tiie libra ry, where I was alone reading, with a very perturbed expression on his sol emn face. “Master Charlie,” he blurted out, coming close up to me and dropping his voice to a low, confidential pitch, “this won't do.” “What won’t >lo, John?” “This what’s going on between thy aunt and you major.” “You don't really mean that you think anything serious is likely to come of these* foolish flirtations with Major Mallaby?” “Depends what thee calls serious. Rome folk might call marriage serious. Some mightn't. That’s what's coming of it, anyways.” “I'ooh, man! Impossible. Why, aunt Is 75.” “If she was-85 and the marrying fit took her, age wouldn’t be no hindrance, as it liain’t a-becn to many silly old women before now,” answered John sentontinusly. “And I warn thee sol emnly, Master Charlie, that if you or I or both of us doan’t interfere at once Major Mallaby will marry the mistress, which is the same tiling as saying that he’ll get her to leave Mm the property, site being in that weak, foolish state as she’ll do anything at tlio word of one who gets an influence over her.” John's solemn words were beginning to alarm me. I knew lie was a shrewd old fellow, by no means the sort to take fright at nothing. “We mun think, Master Charlie—we muu think what can he done. I'll give the matter my attention, and thee mun give* it thine. In the meantime,” lie added, “keep about the house. Master Charlie, and if the major calls doan't on any account leave him alone with tiie aunt.” The major did call that afternoon, and 1 carried out John’s advice, taking care to bo present in tbe drawing room all the time. Very glad, too, I felt that I had not neglected this |M‘ccnution, for from the way the major kept looking toward me and from tiie various at tempts my aunt made to got me out of the room by transparent subterfuges I found myself wontiering that I had hitherto Itecn so completely and culpa bly bliiid in tin* matter. Next morning John came to me again, this time with a very long, grave face. In Ids hand lie held an open letter. “Then*, Ma tor Charlio,” ho said. 'Tvo boon and done what I have never done before. Tills letter be for tin* mis tress, but I see It was from the major, and I opened it.” “I say! You shouldn't have dona that,” I remonstrated. “Should or shouldn't, I did,” retorted John, half defiantly. “And I'm glad i did too. The major offers the aunt marrlago in tills letter, and lie's going to call for his answer this afternoon." “I'hew!” I whistled in great dismay. “What’s to bo done now?” “Master Charlie,” cried ohl John very earnestly, "the auht hihst lx} got away this very morning before (lie major comes. Fortunately, the doctor's com ing this morning to set* the mistress about her eyes. Now if you'd see him first. Muster Charlie, and confide to him the exact state of the ease, who knows but what he'd find the condition of the mistress’ eyes so very critical that he’d order her up to London to see a special ist this very day.” The doctor, a charming old fellow, who had known me ever since I was born, was divided between concern and amusement when he heard what I had to tell him. “Hem! I’ve been afraid of this for months. And your aunt is In such a foolish, weak minded state that she would probably yield to him. Hem! She must ste a specialist about her eyes shortly. And why nut now?” I was waiting for him iu the hall when lie came down after seeing my aunt. “I’ve been us urgent as I could,” he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “But she declares it is impossible for her to go today. However, I met John on tiie stairs and tipped him the hint. He’ll induce her to go If anybody can. He has ruled her so long that he can make her do very much what he likes.” I ran up to the morning room. There 1 found John lecturing my aunt. “If thee'il not take proper care of theeself, mistress,” ho said, with de termination, “I shall do it for thee. I knows my duty to thee, and 1 don’t forget my promises to the dear master. I’m going to telegraph to the Langham for rooms, and I'm going to give Saunders orders to pack thee things, mistress. We shall leave todai by the 2 o’clock train.” About a week later I had a letter from John apprising me of tiie event which I feared. The major had found out where my aunt had gone and had followed her to town. He had actually been to call upon her that afternoon. Would I go up at mice? John met me, stud I insisted on his riding inside with me, in order that lie might tell me just what had happened. “About the major, John?” I began at once, with keen anxiety. “Tiie major’s a-been,” replied John, with a to me somewhat irritating de liberation, “and lie’s a-gone away again.” “Why? What do you mean? Has aunt refused him?” “She has, Master Charlie.” “Good biz, indeed,” I cried. “I was afraid—I was almost sure she—she— would accept him.” “Listen, Master Charlie,” said tiie old man, with an air of suppressed elation. “Thee knowest I have wonderful pow er over the mistress to make her do pretty well what I likes. I’ve a-exer- eised that power, Master Charlie, and I’ve a-exercised it in such a way as to spoke tiie major’s wheel for good and ail. “I thought to myself; ‘Now, if I can find a man as would marry the mis tress and not presoom upon it—one as would be content just to be her hus band in law and in nutthink else, some quite steady, dependable man as would thoroughly know liis place and wouldn't blab—if 1 can find such a man,’ I thought, ‘and get the mistress to go through the form of marriage with him—by special license, say, and on the strict q. t.—it would answer tiie purpose as nuithiuk else would, for then her marriage with the major would be quite impossible.’ “1 looked about for that man. 1 found him, Master Charlie. I made the mis tress injury him.” “lie’s her husband now in law— though in nutthink else, nor ever will Ik*. But lie’s spoked the major, and that’s iiil he wants. Cunst thee guess his name, sir?” “Not you, John?” 1 cried in amaze ment. “Aye, me,” replied the old quietly.—Philadelphia Item. butler A Tough, Tough FNh. Fisb seem to have no sense of feel ing, and many people believe that tiie angry and energetic movements of a fish when it is caught are due rather to annoyance at losing Its liberty than to any sense of pain. I can confirm this, because I have over and over ag;iin taken an undersized pike that lias been once or twice caught and put back into the water. Upon one occasion three of us—boys of the Old brigade—were fishing in a small pool in a narrow, sluggish river. Jones caught a small pike, and as it was undersized, being barely four pounds, lie cut the hooks out of its gul let and threw the fish in again. Inside of 30 seconds Jones caught tiie same fish again. Once more herut out tiie hooks, and this time lie had to maul it very much. Once more it was kicked iu. Then l caught it, still bleeding. 1 got tbe hooks out with difficulty, and be fore I could throw tiie fish In again a terrier dog bit it half through. Then I kicked tiie fisii In, and Brown caught it. At hist we got so tired of catching tills fish that I threw it away in dis gust. It caught in tiie fork of a willow tree and staid there for half an hour, when a crow attacked it, dislodging it from the tree, but not before it had re moved one of tiie eyes. The solfsamc fish was caught next day by the keep er.—Fishing Gazette. Pride of the Poor. Mrs. Clarence Burns, who is so well known for her philanthropic work, says that in all her experience in visit ing the tenements of the poor of the city she lias never been asked for alms. Mrs. Burns lias made a business of vis iting tbe poor with tiie hope bT helping them whenever she saw the need, but finds it almost impossible to make the really deserving poor acknowledge that they are in need of anything. One day she visited a family who were all huddled together iu one bare, cold room, and their faces were so pinched she knew they were starving. But in response to her offer to help them the mother said: "No, thank you. The children have had something today. I uni sure to get work soon.” After questioning ns to just exactly what the children had had to eat Mrs. Burns found that they had subsisted for three days on a few dried scraps of stale bread. This experience, she says, is repeated frequently.—New York Tribune. Snviiifr the Day. Here is something I believe to bo true: “There is iu every person’s life a crucial hour in the day, which must be employed instead of wasted if the day is to be saved.” That crucial hour is the hour when you begin to feel lazy. I have known it to eonie to some boys tiie moment they get up in the morning. They yawn while they are dressing and even stretch at the breakfast table. Some times this crucial hour does not come until they are at school, and then, just when they should be active and alert, laziness sets In, and if they do not brace right up tiie day will be lost. He who gives up in tbe morning is sure t« fail of accomplishing anything in the afternoon. Do not yield to the tempta tion to be idle if you want to save tiie day. Sometimes temptation sets in before we get up in the morning, and we lie In bed one or even two hours longer than usual, and iu those hours the day is lost. It is the idle hour that causes one to lose the day. Beware of this hour while the day Is yet young. You will find it Impossible to return to your work with the same freshness and en thusiasm you felt when you put that work aside. No one who is steadily and cheerfully industrious can lose ids day, and no one will enjoy ills well earned rest and playtime as ho will en joy them.—J. L. Harbour. She Hadn't Dropped Off. “Delia!” “Yis, ma’am.” “I am very tired, and I am going to lie down for an hour.” “Yis, ma’am.” “If I should happen to drop off, call me at 5 o’clock.” “Yis, ma’am.” So u.y lady lies down, folds her hands, closes her eyes and Is soon in the land of dreams. She Is awakened by the clock striking 0 and cries indig nantly: “Delia!” “Yis, ma’am.” “Why didn’t you call mo at 5 o’clock, as I told you to do?" “Shure, ma’am, ye tould me to call ye If ye had dropped off. I looked in on ye at 5, and ye hadn’t dropped off at all! Ye was lyin on the bed in the same place, sound asleep!” Mutually .\e;rct*iil*lc. One day last summer a sour vlsaged, middle aged, fussy woman got on one of the smoking seats In ;in open car in the subway. Next to iter snt a man who was smoking a cigar. More than tliiit, tiie woman, sulliiiig. easily made ) out that the man had been eating on ions. Still more than that, she had the strongest kind of suspicion that he laid been drinking beer. The woman fussed and wriggled and grew angrier and looked at the man scornfully. iTeseutiy she could endure it no lon ger. She looked squarely at him and said: “If you were my husband, sir, I’d give you a dose of poison!” The man looked at her. “If 1 were your husband,” said he, “I'd take It!” —Boston Transcript. An Odd Stave Waver, Tiie late Signor Foil, the well known vocalist, once mmle a very curious wager with some of Ids companion singers at Her Majesty’s Opera House. Some 'JO years ago Mepliistoplieles in Gounod’s “Faust" was among his fa vorite Impersonations. In the garden scene his strides when attempting to avoid the elderly Martini formed nu important feature of the humorous business. One night, the length of Ids legs be ing a subject of chaff ns in* was stand ing at the wings, lie declared Ids ability to cross the stage In three bounds. The comments that ensued re sulted In a tiet. When the proper moment for the ex periment cftinc, he retreated a few paces, and then, to the surprise of the audience ns well ns to the representa tive of Martha, leap's! from side to side. The scene never evoked more laughter, and Full was acknowledged to havy won the .wager. Kor It lieu inn i Imiii, Mr. Johnson I notice. Jasper, that you have the rheumatism as bad as ever. Don't you ever take anything for It? Jasper—’Deed I does, sail. I takes ciuV.hvs mostly.—Boston Gourlcr. Found IIIn Auditor. Professor Charles D. R. Roberts, the poet, reads the modern languages very easily, but speaks them Imperfectly. At a reception held In New York Just prior to ids leaving for Europe Rob erts was Introduced to a distinguished French artist, who was here ou a visit. The artist asked In bis own tongue, “You speak French?” “No,” answered tbe poet. “I am sorry 1 do not, tint I understand It well when it is spoken to me.” “I am so glad,” replied the French man. “You are the audience I have long wanted. 1 can talk to you all l please, and you cannot talk back.”— Colorado Springs Gazette. Hon< Nty. “Young man,” asked the proprietor of the store, who was making the rounds of the various departments, “how can you afford to di'e*js so ohibo- rately and expensively ol the salary we pay you?” “I can’t,” gloomily answered the salesman. “I ought to have more sal ary.”—Chicago Tribune. Driven to Drink. Artist—My next picture at tiie acad emy will be entitled “Driven to Drink." His Friend—Ah. some powerful por trayal of bnflled passion, 1 suppose? Artist—Oh. no; it’s a horse approach ing a water trough! The I.hiIIch' itirtliihiy Alma use. The Ladies’ Birthday Almanac lor 1900 is being distributed in our city this week. This publication is so different from the ordinary cheap patent medicine almanac, that it has become very popular, and now lias a circulation of 15,000,000 copies, Jin- nually. Astronomer Bradford’s ac curate calculations showing the time the sun rises and sets, moon’s phases, eclipses, &c., DeYoe’s cele brated weather forecasts for every day in the year, indicated by a unique system of patent weather signals, practical garden and farm hints for each month, and birthday proverbs for every day, are among the best features. All holidays and fixed and movable festivals are prominently shown. In fact, the editor of this little almanac, who we understand is a successful newspaper man of long experience, has given the public a book that will be found valuable in any home. Our readers who have not received a copy of the IfiOO edi tion* can get it of their merchant, or by sending their address to the Ladies' Birthday Almanac, Chatta nooga, Term. I'h|iin!!x Divided, “During the civil war.” says the Boston Transcript, “the Law school at Cambridge was presided over by Pro fessors Parsons, Parker and Wash burn. They were divided iu their po litical views, and each did his best to maintain IPs opinion. “Professor Parker was one day ask ed, ‘How do you get along on politics at tiie Law school?’ " ‘Nicely,’ he answered. ‘We are equally divided.’ “ ‘Bill how can that be?’ continued the inquirer. ‘There are three of you?’ “ ‘Easy enough,’ replied the profess or. ‘Parsons writes on one side and 1 on the other, and Washburn—he speaks on one side and votes ou the other.’ ” To Wash Table I.iiu'iis. Do any darning or mending tiiat is necessary before washing. If stain ed with fruit, wine or coffee, pour boiling water through the linen where stained; this should ho done before washing. Soak over night in clear water; then hoi! the linens and rub well in hot water. If a little Gold Dust Washing Powder is dis solved in the water in which the cloths are boiled, only a little soap will be needed, and the linens will he beautifully clear and white. Lift out of the boiler with a stick, and drop in a tub of cold water. Rinse well, and ring tightly; dip iu tub of cold water to which bluing has been added. Starch lightly and iron. An Innalt Well llandlrd. You t*:iu al.vays trust tin* American’ woman to take cure of herself. The friends of a girl who lives iu Eight eenth street are telling these days of an adventure which befell her one aft ernoon within the fortnight. She was standing, this Eighteenth street girl, at the corner of F and Eleventh streets waiting for u girl friend. A very dap per young man, a stranger doubtless in the town—for most Washingtonians are too well aware of the girl’s social emi nence to venture on any impertinence to lier—stepped up, bowed and said airily: “Waiting for somebody?” Tiie girl turned to look at him. “Guess you’ve forgotten me,” lie went on with growing familiarity. “I saw you at a dinner last week.” Ihe girl looked at him steadily for a moment. “Oh, I remember notv,” she said. “It was at Colonel Blank’s. You are Colo nel Blank’s butler, of course. No, I don’t know of anybody who wants a butler. Have you tried the employ ment agencies?” And then, slowly and calmly, she walked away.—Washington Post. S. C. & G. E. R. R. CO. Schedule No. 4. In Effect 12:01 A. M.. Sunday,December 24th, ’49 Between Camdfiu.S.C. and Bhckstarg S.C. WEST. EAST an 311. 1 : hi ,34. The bank checks passing through 1 tiie clearing houses In London and New York in one month exceed tin* value of all the gold and silver coin In the world. Give a youth resolution and the al phabet. and who shall place limits to ids career? Wo will never have clean streets in a great city until somebody wants the dirt. IllHiiiiirk'H Iron Nervi) Was the result of his splendid health, indomitable will and tre mendous energy are not found where Stomach, Liver, Kidneys and Bow els are out of order. If you want these qualities and the success they bring use Dr. King’s New Life Pills, They develop every power of brain und bodv. Only 25 cents at Chero kee Drug Co. Talloxv Candle* a* Medicine. In France the peasantry still stick to medicines calculated to turn the aver age doctor’s hair gray with liorror. Wine* is an ingredient of every pro-' scription. In fever cases It Is always the predominant one. The French peasant’s faith in fermented grape juice is truly beautiful. If his children are stricken with the measles, in* gives them wine well sweetened with honey and highly spic ed with pepper. For a severe cold he administers a quart of red wine and a melted tallow caudle mixed. For scar let or brain fever lie gives eggs, white wine and soot well beaten together. Not all their superstitions are curi ous. Some are pathetic. A mother, for instance, often buries her dead child with its favorite toy or a lock of her own hair in the coffin, “that it may not feel quite alone.” Story of a Slave. To be bound hand and foot for years by the chains of disease is the worst form of slavery. George I). Williams, of .Manchester, Mich., tells how such a slave was made free, llo says : “My wife has been so helpless for five years that she could not turn over in the bed alone. After using two bottles of Electric Bitters, she is wonderfully improved and able to do her own work.” This supreme remedy for female diseases quickly cures nervousness, sleeplessness, melancholy, headache, backache, fainting and dizzy spells. This mira cle working medicine is a godsend to weak, sickly, run down people. Every bottle guaranteed. Only 50 cents. Sold by Cherokee Drug Com pany Druggist. SOUTHERN RAILWAY. sB&\ Condensed Schedule of Passenger Train*. Iu Effect Dec. 10, !SD9. 7i r r. f Ti r -L 7" Ves. No. 18. FstMn Nuit h bound. No. 12. No. 3S. Ex. No. an. EASTERN TIME. 75 zt Daily Daily Sua. Daily. O CL Li u fcr Lv Atlanta,CT 7 50 a 12 (0:n 4 30 p 11 V) p 7 r r “ Atlanta.ET « 5(1 a 1 OU p ft. 30 it 12 1 a U £ T. X X " No reread.. ll ao a 0 i.i 1 -fly r; - " Bufurd. . 10 Oft a 7 03 p 1 53 n CL STATIONS. " Gainesville lo 35 a 2 25 p < p 2 18 a “ Lula. 10 58 a 2 45 p 8 00 p 2 38 a w • . > “ ( ornelia.... 11 -ft a 8 301> T* — “jl: " Mt. Airy. 11 boa 8 35 p ~ s 'Z £3 V — Lv Toceoa.. 11 53 a _3 33p 9 Oft p fi 23 a LL — Ar. Kib«rton... 9 (SO n 5 40 p 11 45 a 1 .v. Klberton. . ..... . 1*. M. 1*. M. 1*. M. I*. M. Lv. \v 'minster. 12 alnil 4 04 a K -U 12 50' CAMDEN. 12 ft ao " Seneca. . 13 52 p 4 15 p 4 28 a 8 ;y> 1 la DEKALM .. 12 02 4 ftt) " Ceutral... . 1 4'i p 5 22 p . . 4 fto a II 20 1 27 . . WKS'I V ILLE. .. 1! ft:) 4 " Greenville 2 34 p 0 DO a 10 :.n 1 40 KERSHAW ii oft 4 10 “ pur'Rurg. 3 37 p (1 13 p 7 03* 11 20 2 10 HEATH SPRINt.S II 20 a 15 " Gaffney.... 4 20 p 0 40 p 7 45 a ii :r. 2 la PLEASANT HILL ll Ift oo Hlaeksburg 4 38 p 7 02 p , 8 02 a 12 :io 2 da —LANCASTER 10 ft.ft “ King's Mt.. 5 ua p ....... 8 27 a 1 (KI 2 .VI RIVERSIDE. . hi m i tin " Gastonia.. 5 2ft ji 818 0 8 51 a 1 20 :i t o . . SI’lll NU DI.'LI, ID VI 12 40 “ Charlotte.. 0 30 p 9 50 a 2 :io :i to DATAWll \ .11 N( N lii 2o 12 20 A r. Gre’nsboro 9 55 p 10 47 p — 12 23 p 2 oO ;s 20 LESLIE .... 10 10 11 IKI — — — — — . :i m :j 40 ROCK HILL 10 IK 10 4n Lv Gre'nsboro 11 45 p t 10 :i 55 NEW PORT . ti a:. 8 20 A r. Norfolk ... 8 25 it i i:> 4 02 .. TIKE AII n :mi K 00 11 25 p — ——. 5 :;o (> ( «0 4 20 4 aft ... YORK' V IEEE ... SHARON 0 15 7 ao Ar Dauvtlfe.. 11 50 p 1 38 p !> H t i 50 Ar. Richmond.. ti CO a 0 00 a ti 2a 4 50 HICKORY GROVE 8 45 0 2U G 25 p ( '» tfo> 5 oo SM YRN’A s :c> 0 (jo ' ‘ - - ■ ■■ — ~ • ***• 7 00 5 20 . RLACKSUERO K 15 5 ){0 Ar. V, Idugtnn. 0 12 a 8 50 p P. M. ;*. m. C M. A “ 1 > mot e P. R . 8 00 a •••••••• 11 25 p " 1 h'dflphla. 10 15 a 2 55 ft Between Blacksburg,S.C., and Marion,N.C. *' New York. 12 4: m (123 u W ES J’ A-T • FstMa Ves. I i 75 Southbound, No. 35. No. 37. No. 11. fi Daily Daily Daily X 75 75 Lv N Y., Pa li 12 15 n 4 yop —Ma- o 7? w 7- " Ph'defphl* a M a 0 5ft p ....... r— +3 " l altimorc.. 0 22 a 9 20 p ,7 1 75 EASTERN TIME. Cf “ Wash'ton 11 15 a 10 45 p fW Li £ Lv. Richmond. 12 01 11 11 (Hip 11 09 p 'S, y. Lv. Dnuvillo.. 5 48 p 5 50 n II 10 a 75 STATIONS. 75 7) Lv. Norfolk Ar. (i re'unborn ll 03 a 0 aft p 8 p fi 15a >. - "Z W — Lv. < irc'iishoi 0 Ar. ( harlolto . Lv Gastonia. 7 lop 9 4ft p 10 42 p 7 05 11 9 2ft a 10 07 a 7 87 a 12 05m 1 L p I'D 3 •' King # Mt- 1 :n p - ’J. -x -X •' Pla'k.sharg 11 25 p 10 45 a 2 00 p •* GnlTiiuy. 11 Up in 5s a 2 34 p A. IH. | 1. ,M. s loi ;> :« h do a 4."> S 40| 5 5( II 20| (i H in (it. i, ..*( .. REACKSRERG .. 1 EARLS PATTERSON si* GS | SIIEI.HY ... LA ITI MORE. .. \. M. i 48 'i 1 if} < ID 55 1*. y. 0 10 0 20 0 12 0 IKI 4 50 •' Spar burg . *' Greenville •' C'eulral ** teller,‘1 “ \V minster •* Tiieeoa. . . 12 20 u 1 3*3 a '2 32 a .’i 28 a 11 54 a 12 blip 1 30 p 2Jftj> 3 1ft P 4 yop 5 41 p 0 US p ti 2ft p Ex. Sun. ti o;» ft Ill pi (I :> . MOORES RORO. 0 4> 4 40 III 2a I Ii Vt* ... HENRIETTA (i :> 4 20 14v I iVn*rton. II 00 a 1 ;:u P hi .vi c, ! 1 ORES'!' CITY . (i 2e a fto A1 . 1 ii •*! 11in, l i 4»a 5 40 p ii ir> 7 t< UETH EHEORDTO.N 0 05 5 25 Lv. Mt. Airy . 7 2) p Ii (XJ ,'i ii iff) 7 . MILLWOOD . 5 ;>:< ii 05 “ Cornelia . 7 .".2 p (> iJo u 1 1 I.>| 7 tiiV I GOLGI \ \ ALU Y ft 4e 2 50 *' Lola 4 18 a 3 Up 8 O'> p • i ft7 IK 12 la ! 7 4o; . THERMAL ( ITY ft :i7 2 4;. •' Gainesville 4 III! a «> IL p 8 20 p 7 20 n 12 2a 1 7 > CLKNWOOD ;> i7 2 20 •' Unfold. . 5 Ui a 8 4 i p 7 4s u 12 VI S Ja! MAHON 5 < 0 2 HI “ Norcrons. 5 2ft n ..... 0 lsp 8 27 a 1*. M. 1 1*. M. 1 \. M. 1*. V. Ar. Atlanta.KT 0 iu a 1 V'p 10 00 i> 9 ao a Gaffney Division. '' A1 laota ( "1 5 10 a 3 56 p I) 8v|i 8 30 a W K8T. EAST. Between Lulu und Athens. 1st ( lass. i 1st (’i:iss. No. U.| No. 10. 15. 1:1. 14. — Ex. No. 13. STATIONS. No. 12. Ex. EASTERN TIME. 1 EOn. (Daily.| Daily. Suit. . - i H 10 p 11 0ft n' Lv. .Lula Ar 10 50 a 7 35 p ^ r** ~ 7* - 8 ll4p; 11 V', a “ Mays villo “ 10 19 n 7 09 p ^ H y - STATIONS. - V - S 50 p! I! 52 a *‘ Harmony “ 10 03 a (1 38 p — ^,7 us -'A 0 — [5 3 1) 00 p| 12 bOp Ar . Atlu ns Lv 0 25 u (i 00 p Note ( lose eoliiieetiou made at Lula with A M I 1; (Ml ! I! -‘O | IS SO A M ...HLACKSHriff; Cl I KH( >K Ki: FALLS . ..GAFFNEY Tmin N<*. :i.’ lea vlnjr Marlon. \. ('.. at 'i a. in., making rinse ro'iim.Mion at lU'icksluirg. S. ('.. willi 1110 Southern's I ruin No. ;u'> lor ( hn r- lotte, V and all points East, and eonm et- Ing with tin* Soul hern's vestibule going to AllHnlit, (in., and all points West, and will passengers going East Ir.-m tin in No. 10 on I he C. \ N W. It. U., at Yorkvllle, S. C., at ha:, a. in., and eoutncl.s at Cuindi n, S. ('., with the Southern'# train No .** arriv ing In ChurlcHtoii, S. l'., ut s.!7 p. m. Train .so. :il with passengereoaeh attaeln d, leaving Hlnekshurg at .'>.:t0 a. in., and ron- iieiding at Hoek Mill, S. (.. with the Snulh- ern's Florida train for all points South. 'I ruin No. :Ui leaving <'aui'leii, S. ( ,at I .’.."<0 i). m., after lh*- arrival of Hie Soul hern's t hurlesloii 1 rain eonneels at l.measier, K (with the L. .V ('. K. li.; at t 'ataw hu ,1 uiuT hm with (lie S, A. I,., going East, at I oek Mill, S. ('., with Ihe Soul Intii's trilln No. 114 for Charlotte, N. < ., and all oolnts F.usl. ( on iu el s < i \ ork v 11 lr, . C.. w I In 11 a In No, a on Ihe C. X N. \\. If. R., for Chesli r, ,s. C. At lllitekshnig with ihe : ouihern's u sill.ule goln: Easl.lliul the soul hr in's Irnin No going V\ t si, a ml rntinoel ing at M i 'ion. N. with tin Soul he i n I xit a Lasl and \S e >i. S \ MI DI. DI N I. I’l l kld« lit. A. TUI1T, Siiperlntendei.t, S. II. M Ml’KIM, Cien'L Tusseuger Agent main line trtiiiiM. •‘A" a in. *‘P" p. m. "M" noon. “N” night. < hi Hiqienke Line Steamers in daily scrvLk between Nor oik and Haltinmro. Nos iff ana tj£> -Daily. Washington ami Fonthweitcrn Vestibule Limited. Through Pullman sleeping ears lietween New York uuil New Orleans, via Washington, Atlanta and Montgonierv, and also between Now York and Memphis, via Washington, Atlanta and Hlr- iidngiiain. Also elegant Pum.man Liiikaiiy < )n on v at ion Cakm ih i ween At Inn tii and New Yoi k. FlrstelaM thoroughfare roaches 1h>- twren Washington and Atlanta. Dining ears serve all meals en route. Leaving Wushiug- Ington Mondays, W< duesdays and Fridays a lourisl Mlcepingcar w ill ran through between W ishlnglon and San Fiunclseo w tlhout change. Pullman dinwliig room sleeiitug ears lietweeu . islioroand Norfolk* Crlo uconnaolkM at N iloik for (ii,p Point CiiMiiiirr Nos. 05 and ;(S—I'mted Hi a ten Fast Mall runs solid lie I ween Washington and New Orleans, via Southern Hallway, A. A W. 1*. K. It. and I, X’ N It. K., helug composed of roaches, through w ithoul change for pn-scugers of all eln/.-os. Pullman drawingroom sleeping ear* between New York and New Orleiuis, via At- hinla and Montgomery and hetween Char hdie and AManiu. Pining ears serve all ti.< als en route Nos II. 31. t and lit—Pullman sleeping ears 1« tween Itii'huiond and Charlotte, via Dan ville, otil hbonnd Non. It and Oil, northbound Nos :il and Id FLANKS HANNON. .1 M. CCLP, Third V P X Hen. Mgr. T. M., Washington. W A. TUiiK, H II HARDWICK JjL< 1‘ A Washington, A. u, i*. A. Atlanta*