The ledger. [volume] (Gaffney City, S.C.) 1896-1907, January 02, 1900, Image 3
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*