Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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A CSlnttonona liny. A morclmm died nt Isp.ihan In tho earlier part of last oontury who had for many yonrs denied hi self .and his son every s. pport e\cep; a crust of toarse bread. (Jn a certain occasion he was overtempted to I u.v a piece of cheese; but. reproaching himself with extravr«rancn. > |>e i 1 ’• ( ''ce:e into n lx t;!e a . fi cottf•.*!.; d Ihtnseif and obliged the boy to do the same, with rubbing the crust against the bottle, enjoying the cheese in imagination. One day, rotnrn'ng heme later than usual, the merchant found his son eat ing his crust, which he constantly rub bed against the door. “What are you about, you fool?” was his exclamation. “It is dinner time, father. You have the key: so, as I could not oi)en the door, I was rub bing my bread against it, ns I could uot get to the bottle.” “Cannot you go without cheese one day, you luxurious little rascal? You’ll never be rich.” An^ the angry miser kicked the poor boy for not having been able to deny himself the ideal gratification. New Minister l^or Cuthbert Cuthbert. Ga.. Dec. 18.—Rev. J. A White, of Dothan, Ala., who was re cently called to the pastorate of the Baptist church In this* city, has in formed the congregation of his accept a/nce. He will enter upon his new work here Jan. 1. Mr. White made a splendid Impression when on his recent visit here, and it is expected that he will do a good work in Cuth bert.. Hair Falls “ I tried Ayer's Hair Vigor to stop my hair from falling. One- half a bottle cured me.” J. C. Baxter, Braidwood, 111. Ayer’s Hair Vigor is certainly the most eco nomical preparation of its kind on the market. A little of it goes a long way. It doesn’t take much of it to stop falling of the hair, make the hair grow, and restore color to gray hair. Sl.oo a bottl*. All dni||l<to. If your druggist cannot supply yon, ■end ns one dollar and we will express yon a bottle. Be sure and give the name of your nearest express office. Address, J. C. AYEU CO., Lowell, Mass. 1 CHICHESTER'S ENGLISH PENNYROYAL PILLS AIwbvn reliable. Ladles, ask flnifreist for «C**V€lli:.vrKK» KMj I. IN 11 In Red ami i*d im>Udlic noxes, sealed with blue ribbon, -f awe no oilier. KefUNe dnnirerouN »ul>«tl- tntion»iind Imllatloua. Buy of your Druggist, . )end le. in .stumps for Particular*. Teati- -nnninla and “Keller for Ladle*." in/filer, •: return Hall. 10,000 Testimonials. Bold by V* Dnijrjfjsts. CHICHESTER CHEMICAL OO. * «*<*<> MadUon Nquarfc, PHILA.. PA. Mention this paper p PARKER’S HAIR BALSAM Cleanaei and beautifies the hair. Promotes a luxuriant growth. Never Falla to Restore Gray Hair to its Youthful Color. Cure! Kalp <li«r««- « Sc hair falling. ^^^Oc^am^SUtna^JIruggiiti^^^ BANNER SALVE the most hsallng salve in the world. No business can possibly be successful that is not adver tised. This is a sweeping statement, but it is true. There are some merchants in this community whose experience apparently contradicts the statement. The contradiction, however, is only apparent. If they have attained any degree of success they have advertised. They have let people know what they had to £ sell, what they were here for and £ what they proposed to do. Just in proportion to the thorough ness with which they have done this and met the conditions of their competitors they have suc ceeded. If they have used the newspa pers they have worked with the best tools so far as getting pub licity is concerned. If they have worked without the newspapers they have been handicapped and have not attained the highest possible measure of success. A fertile seed planted in fertile ground, carefully watered, will thrive and bear fruit A properly organized business, in any inhabited place, well advertised will succeed. The law of growth is as certain and inexorable in cm case aa the othec. TALMAGE SERMON * By Rev. TRANK DC WITT TALMAGE. D.D., Pastor of Jefferson Park Presby terian Oburcb, Chicago II - " ■ i > Chicago, Dec. 28. — In the following discourse, appropriate to the hist Sun day of the year, Rev. F. I)e Witt Tal mage shows in how many characteris tics the Biblical comparison of life to the creatious of the novelist's genius is justified. The text is Psalm xc, 9, “We spend our yea as a tale that is told.” How the years are flying away! Hen ry Clay once stood upon the top of tbe Alleghany mountains in an attitude of listening. When some one asked him to what he was listening, the great Ken tucky statesman in his deep, powerful, resonant, oratorical voice answered, “I am listening to the mighty tramp of tbe coming generations!” Today we may not have an imaginative ear keen enough to bear the thunderous echoes of the moving feet which shall walk this earth two centuries or a thousand years hence, but we can now bear the pattering feet of the multitudes of school children. We may hear, too, the rumbling of the hearses, which shall sooner or biter carry out our dead bod ies to tbe newly dug graves. We bear the inexorable warning that in a few years or perhaps even in tbe coming year of 1903 we shall look upon tbe ris ing sun for the last time. Then our bedrooms, where we have often slept and laughed and cried, shall be called the chambers of death. Dear old year of 1902! It seemed only yesterday that we welcomed thee into the world. In a few days, with thy snow white hair and shriveled form and pallid cheek and trembling limb, we shall have to carry thee out and lay thee away until we meet thy condemning or approving face at the judgment seat of heaven. The inspired psalmist, considering the passing of an earthly life, uses a beautiful simile. Moses, to whom the psalm is ascribed, was not only a great legislator and a powerful leader, but a poet. He not only opened a path across the Red sea with his rod, but be cut a sure path into the gratitude and affection of all good men and women by the sharp point of his pen. Thus tbe ancient author, who was a pioneer in the making of books, compared the earthly existence of every human life “to a tale that is told.” The seconds are the letters. The minutes are the w,ords. The hours are the sentences. The days are the paragraphs. The weeks are the pages. The months are the chapters. The years are the books. The whole number of different hooks of the human story of life, like the five different hooks of Victor Hugo’s great novel, “Les Miserables,” are hound to gether in one big volume, with a slat from the cradle to serve for one cover and a tombstone used for the other cover. May God help me on this last Sabbath of the dying year to interpret aright how “we spend our years as a tale that Is told.” The BeKinninK of the Tale. Every tale, whether fictitious or no, has a bright or a sad beginning. In al most the first words which the narrator speaks he introduces his listeners to the hero or the heroine. Sometimes lie rocks that hero’s cradle down among the plantations of Louisiana or Georgia, sometimes among the snows of the New England hills or in a palace of Europe, where the prince or princess was horn. But, though many heroes and heroines of fictitious tales may have had unhap py childhood influences, I do uot be lieve it was thus with us. The bright est passages of the “tale of life” when applied to our own biographies are to he found for the most part in those first days which we spent in the old home stead. We never had those huge mon sters, the' sous of Tartarus and Terra, to storm our nurseries; we never had a murderous guardian, a King Richard, to incarcerate us in u dungeon or a fiendish Martha of Goethe’s “Faust” for a nurse. Our infantile playground was more like the Delectable mountains of Bunyan's “Pilgrim’s Progress.” Therefore, as most of our lives have started amid such purified surround ings, it is no more than right to expect that our stories of life should be pure and true and noble tales. But, alas, no sooner were we born and grown into youug manhood and womanhood than the current of our lives led us away from the purities of our youthful home circle. They led us into the haunts of sin and into the cold, damp, dark caverns of selfishness. You know there are books numbered among the masterpieces of literature which you, as a wise parent, would uot allow In your home. You say to your wife: “ ‘Childe Harold’ may be the most wonderful portraiture Lord Byrou ever wrote, but It Is a character of sin and infamy. It Is a character glowing with poetic imagination, but a character with ‘the worm that never dies’ sucking at its heart Our chil dren should not be allowed to read Its pages.” There are stories which are not fitted for public ears. Our biogra phies cannot be told to the world at large. The beautiful ancient ballad of “The Marriage of Sir Gawain” de scribes how the cavalier of old took to himself in marriage a hideous wom an called the "loathly lady” merely be cause no one else would marry her. As soou as tbe “loathly lady” was wed ded she Immediately changed Into a bride of thb most winsome loveliness, because—so goes the story—that mar riage ring was able to enchain a malig nant enebauter who had been cnrslng her life heretofore. Alas, “The Mar riage of Sir Gawain” has been reversed in many of our ’..ves. Most of us came forth fair and beautiful from a Chris tian mother’s nursery. Fair and beau tiful though we once were, we accept ed for our guide the proffered hand of sin. Then in the sight of God and all heaven we became, like the “loathly lady,” accursed by the evil past In which we had lived. No matter how pure and bright our nativity may have been, we have all sinned in the sight of God. “There is none that doeth good, no, not one, not one.” The brightness of a gospel sunrise has been darkened by the stormy clouds of a- siuful midnoon. The Lives of Others. The hero of each tale, whether ficti tious or no, has his life in twined in the existence of many other lives. We find this thought best illustrated perhaps in Wilkie Collins’ “Dead Secret” or “No Name” or “The Woman In White” or of Anna Katharine Green’s “Leaven worth Case” or of Conan Doyle’s fa mous and strange wanderings of Sher lock Holmes. These «and similar au thors we read not for their epigrammat ic sayings, as we do tbe writings of a William M. Thackeray, but ■we read them for the deft way in which they disentangle the snarled skein of a hu man plot. No sooner are their chief characters born than the authors let them worm their way through intricate and weird surroundings until at last they lead them to the marriage altar, or, if the story be a tragedy, into the gaping mouth of an open grave. Some one took Ian Maclaren to task for cre ating so many dissolute characters in his hooks. The author of “Bonnie Brier Bush” answered: “Man, how can I help creating many dissolute characters? After my characters are once born they live their own lives and do whatever damage they please. Some of them will get drunk; some of them will lie and steal; some of them will break their loved ones’ hearts. My characters, aft er they are once born, dominate me. I cannot control them.” Every true story of life must repre sent it as mixed up in the lives of many others. This is always so. You may have seen in some art. gallery a picture of the "Three Parcae,” the fates that are supposed to decide the destinies of every man. Clotho is there pictured as a beautiful woman, holding the birth spindle out of which the thread of life is to be drawn. Atropos is a beautiful wmmau pulling forth that thread, and thereby deciding what the man’s life is to he. Lachesis is an old hag, with a pair of sharp shears cut ting that thread and making an end of that mortal life. But I want to re mind you today that in the story of life every man’s life is intwined in other lives. Before that thread is cut it passes into the world’s loom, among and around other threads, adding its textile strength to the warp and woof. In the nursery the fates are not alone the three in the picture, hut a multi tude which are weaving that thread. What a mother does may decide to a great extent what her children will do. In the dining room there are more than three fates influencing the lives of young men. What the father does may decide what his boys will do. A wife’s position upon the temperance question may decide whether or no her husband shill die of delirium tremens. The tale of a human life is a plot In which the happiness of a mother, a fa ther, Ji brother, a sister, a wife, a child, a friend, may he dependent upon the purity and the nobility of one man. When the heart of the old oak is eaten out. not only does the mighty tree fall, hut also all the clinging vines which have clambered up the sides of the tree; ail tbe birds’ nests In which the* feathered mothers have laid their eggs; also all of the leaves which are kissed of the sunlight and are rustling with ji^r. In the story of life, when the hero does wrong, it brings disaster upon every life with whom that hero comes in touch. Our lives are all Intwined with other lives. The Llvhta and Shadows. Every tale, whether fictitious or no, lias its depressions as well as its ele vations. It has its disappointments and heartaches and sorrows, and often its graves, as well as its joys and re unions and happy marriage altars. It has its dark nights and quicksands and precipices and often its murderers aud highwaymen as well as Its cities of refuge and gardens of Eden and Uto pias and rescuers and, if I might rev erently use the word, its saviors or redeemers, it may have Its Frankeu- steins, its Wandering Jews and its mer ciless Javerts as well ns its Bishop Myriels and its Jean Valjeans aud Its “Christians” and its "Eternal Cities.” It has always been so. An auditor would not sit hour after hour, as the ancients used to do, listening to the Imaginative story tellers of old if lights and shad ows had not continually chased each other across their fictitious heavens. But, though every story, whether fic titious or no, may have its ups and downs, yet the general rule is, the greater the danger and the blacker the sorrow aud the more overwhelming and imminent the threatening destruc tion the nearer is the appearance of the deliverer, the savior or the redeem er. It is when all hope seems to be forever gone that we are relieved by the entrance of some character who is able to chase away the black winged demon of despair and lead forth tbe white robed angel of hope. Yon may remember an illustration of this rule in Lord Lytton’s famous historical nov el, “The Last Days of Pompeii.” While old Mount Vesuvius was writhing In agony and belchlug forth a reservoir of burning lava and while the heav ens were raining a tempest of fire and the midday was as black as tbe dark ness of the Egyptian plague did not tbe blind girl Nydia take her lover by the hand and lead him forth out of tbe doomed city, out past the Roman sentinel who stood by the gate, pre ferring to die rather than to desert his post, out to the blue waters of the Mi'diterranean, In which there was safety? Is uot tills statement true of the beautiful story of Dickens’ "Tale of Two Cities” or of Scott's "Ivanhoe,” of Cooper's "Pathfinder.” of Shake speare’s "King Lear” and true of al most any of the works of the ancient story writers as well as the stories written by the authors of the present day ? So general is this rule that the psalm ist may have had it in mind when he declared that "we spend our years as a tale that is told” and is practically saying, “You know that in the tale the time of the greatest darkness is usually the time of rescue; so, in real life, ev ery man and woman, every human hero or heroine, even in the darkest days of life, can have a divine rescuer, a Redeemer, a Saviour.” We can have the Redeemer or the Saviour that Gen eral Lew Wallace depicted in his fa mous religious novel, “Ben-Hur.” First, the author leads us into the home of wealth. Then, with ruthless hand, he tears down the tapestries. He shatters that homo. He drives forth the moth er and the beautiful daughter as ac cursed. He drives them forth covered with the white flakes of fatal leprosy. He drives them forth until as outcasts they are living among the tombs and associating with the corpses. Then he brings forth the Saviour—it is the same Jesus who once said to the ten lepers, “Go, show yourselves unto the priests, and it came to pass ns they went they were cleansed.” The same Saviour, by a few words, eleauses the two helpless women In the same way as John Bun- yan depicted him ns saving Christian at the cross, when he wrote: "So I saw in my dream that just as Chris tian came up with the cross his burden loosed from off his shoulders and fell from off his back and began to tumble, and so continued to do until it came to the mouth of the sepulcher, where it fell in, and I saw it uo more. Then was Christian glad and lithesome and said with a merry heart, ‘He hath giv en me rest by his sorrow and life by his death.’ ” We can be saved In the story of life as David was saved, when he cried out in rapture. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble!” Thus it remains with us, and with us alone, whether or no in our story of life we will take Jesus Christ to he our Saviour, our Redeem er, our Divine Rescuer. It rests with us whether the dying year isf 1902 shall be a mournful guide to lead us into a Dante’s “Inferno” or a God’s messenger to lead us into a Milton's “Paradise Regained.” Alxvaj n a Fin inked Tale. The story of life is always a finished tale. In the British National gallery arem few of the unfinished pictures of Turner, the famous English landscape painter. While the great artist, whom John Ruskin admired so much, was working upon those canvases the death angel entered his studio and called him away. In the world of story tell ing we find many unfinished tales. Charles Dickens’ fingers began to stiff en in death when he was in the midst of writing his novel “Edwin Drood.” Another author has tried to finish the great master’s work, hut has not been able to make a success of it. Some times the authors purposely leave their stories unfinished. A new school of writers has lately sprung up who have tried to imitate Frank Stockton in “The Lady or the Tiger.” These au thors or story tellers work their read ers up to an intense pitch of excite ment. Then they suddenly close their stories. They leave their readers to work out the solution as they please. Frank Stockton declared that for years he received hundreds of letters asking him to solve the problem of that story. “But.” said lie, “I am just us much In doubt how that book should end as any of my readers. It was because 1 could not decide whether the young girl was willing to destroy or save her lover that l ceased writing.” Fictitious stories are often unfinished, but the human tales about which the psalmist wrote are always ultimately finished tales. These biographies may lead many of us through the school room to the marriage altar. They may lead us to great honors In life, but they will always lead every one of us to the gnne. When the epitaphs have been inscribed upon our tombstones, what has been done will be <joue for ever, what lias been left undone will be left undone forever. The story of mortal life will then be ended. The earthly covers of the volume will be forever closed. We have often heard of aged authors recasting aud rewrit ing the stories they hud written in their youth. The publishers of the “Reveries of a Bachelor” asked Its au thor to rewrite his most famous book. They asked him to rewrite It long after Ik Marvel had ceased to be a bachelor and when he had a wife and a crowded nursery of his own. But the tale of human life after It has once been fin ished can never be recast. We have heard how one of the sweetest and purest poets of the west at great ex pense gathered up some vicious and Impure stories which he had written when he was a college boy. He gath ered them up to destroy them. But when the human tale of life has been once told It can never be sllejced. It shall be told and retold again and again as it was last told at the grave. Dives In the parable begged Father Abraham to send back to earth the re deemed Lazarus to warn his five sinful brethren. Abraham would net “Nay, nay, nay,” he answered In substance, “Lazarus’ earthly tale of life has been forever finished.” Another word could not be added thereto. A Spoken Story. But there is yet one overwhelming thought we must not overlook. The tale of life is a spoken story. We may read “The Tales From the ASgean,” "The Tales of a Wayside Inn,” "The Tales Out of School,” “Tales of New England” and “Twice-told Tales;” but, after all, the true definition of a tale is a siory spoken by a human being into the ears of one or more listeners. Some times those ancient story tellers were able to excite their hearers to a mad frenzy. It has been recorded that when the Greeks used to listen to the recital of the “Adventures of Ulysses” or the story of “Helen of Troy” they would weep and cry and shout as they climb ed from the lowest depths of grief to the highest pinnacles of joy. What would be the effect on the hearers If the tale of our lives was told? Would it excite them to a frenzy of sin or would it draw from them triumphant and holy ejaculations? But this was not the chief thought which I desired to impress upon you. When our tales of life are told, they are not only spoken into human ears, but also into the all hearing ear of God. It used to be a terrible thought for me to feel that In heaven tl'^-e was a record ing angel, to know that every time I opened my mouth my words were being recorded as a human voice spoken into the phonograph makes its indentations upon a revolving cylinder. Months aft er my father’s death I can now hear his voice repeating the Lord’s Prayer as he once did in one of those instru ments at the national capital. But, oh, how much more overwhelming the thought that every word we utter is spoken directly into the ear of our Di vine Father! How much more tremen dous to know that when “we spend our years as a tale that is told” we can nev er get beyond the reach of God’s ear! Ought not this nearness to God to make us strive by divine grace to live better and purer lives? I once read how a great king of old used to confine his prisoners within a chain of dungeons. Every one of those colls was connected by a whispering gallery with the king’s own bedcham ber. Thus the slightest word these state prisoners might utter during their con finement was Immediately echoed to the king’s ear, and if the prisoners said anything against their king he heard it and these prisoners were immediate ly taken out and executed. Shall not you and I be more careful to live the right kind of lives when we fully re alize that each word we utter is heard by our Divine Father? Shall we not he more careful—not because we fear the anger of a tyrant, hut because we do not want to wound God’s loving heart any more than we would say a harsh or sinful word before a loving earthly parent? The PaHalnfc Year. “We spend our years as a tale that is told.” That means, in the story of life, that we are about to pass from one hook to another. The year of 1902 is nearly finished. The year of 1903 is just about to begin. The passing year has been a sad one for many of us. During the past twelve months two of my family have finished their earthly lives, as a tale that is told. As I sit writing this dis course. I hold in my hand one of the last letters my father ever wrote to me. It goes something like this: “Dear Frank—My last birthday tells me that I have reached the psalmist’s limit- threescore years and ten. My earthly pilgrimage of life will not continue very much longer.” Within a few momks that Journey ended. How soon it was to end be little thought. Within the past year my brother-in-law left us, leaving behind a widow and her little children, who are now nearer and dearer to us on account of their loss. Dr your life the year 1902 has been a sad year. You have had your troubles just the same as I. But the year 1902 lias also been a joyful year. It has been a year of many blessings. It has also been a year when those who have left us have gone to be with him who is their Saviour and their King. But the year 1902 has also been for all of us a year of sin. If this chapter of the tale of life is written, how many soiled pages there are! Not one of us has lived up to our many good oppor tunities. We have been guilty both of sins of omission and sins of commis sion. Like the psalmist, we have rea son to cry out In agony, “O God, thou knowest my foolishness, aud my sins are not hid from thee.” But. though the year 1902 has been a yrar of many shortcomings, it may yet he made a year of divine pardon. There are a few hours of the old year left. Can we. shall we not crowd these last few lines of the hook of 1902 full of peni tent prayers, of earnest and tender pleadings; full of resolves to undo as far as we can the wrongs we may have done to others? But the time Is speeding away, and I must close. Like a dying Invalid, the breath of the old year Is growing short er aud shorter. The pulse Is getting weaker and weaker. What we are to do we must do very quickly. Even now the cold, clammy sweat Is bedew ing its brow; even now the eyes are becoming glassy. Soon there will be a long gasp, then another, then 1902 will be dead! O my loved ones, will you not get down upon your knees and ask God to make this year, even In its closing hours, a year of divine pardon and tri umphant hope? One year, one year, one little year, And so much gone, And yet the even flow of life Moves calmly on. Lord of the living and the dead. Our Saviour dear, We lay In silence at thy feet This sad, sad year! (Copyright, 1902, by Louis Klopsch.] Bla Nnmes, Little Gifts. Several worthy souls of Madagascar contributed toward the relief of those who suffered through tbe disaster at Martinique, and tbe remarkable fact about them Is that their names are un usually long and their contributions tin usually small. Thus, the principal contributors are Ralniznnamanga, Am- batornirthavary. Ranizafludremaro and Rnzaflmanapnka, and the amounts which they contributed range from 5 to 15 cents each COUGHS AND COLDS IN CHILDREN. Recommendation of a Well Known Chicago Physician. I use and prescribe Chamberlain’s Cough Remedy for almost all obsti nate, constricted coughs, with direct results. I prescribe it to children of all agts. Am glad to recommend it to all in netd and seeking relief from colds and coughs and bronchial afflic tions. It is non-narcotic and safe in the hands of the most unprofes sional. A universal panacea for all mankind—Mrs. Mary R. Melendv, M D., Ph. D., Chicago, III. This remedy is for sale by Cherokee Drug Co., Gaffney ; L. D. Allison. C^wpens. It’s alright when you are calling on a girl or talking with friends after dinner to run a conversation like a Sunday-school excursion, with stops to pick flowers; but in the office your sentence should be the shortest dis tance possible between periods. A Thouaaud Dollars Worth of Good. A. H. Thurnes. a well known coal operator of Buffalo, O., writes: “I have been efflicted with kidney and bladder trouble for years, passing gravel or stone with excruciating pain. I got no relief from medicines until I began taking Foley's Kidney Cure, then the result was surprising. A few doses started the brick dust like fine stones and now I have no pain across my kidneys and I feel like a new man. It has done me a $1000 worth of good. Cherokee Drug Co. Of course, the Indians would have been exterminated long ago if the American small boy had been let loose at them. A Good Cough Medicine. [From the Gazette, Moowoomba, Australia.] I find Chamberlain’s Cough Re medy is an excellent medicine. I have been suffering from a severe cough for the last two months, and it has effected a cure. I have great pleasure in recommending it.—W. C. Wockner. This is the opinion of one of our oldest and most respected residents, and has been voluntarily given in good faith. Others may try tbe remedy and be beneflied, as was Mr. Wockner. This remedy is sold by Cherokee Drug Co., Gaffney and L. A. Allison, Cowpens. Impossible people never get really to know how impossible they are un til they try to collect bills from pos sible people. A New Remedy. The old friends of Chambf rlain’s Cough Remedy will be pleased to know that the manufacturers of that preparation have gotten out a new remedy called Chamberlain’s Stom ach and Liver Tablets, and that it is meeting with much success in tbe treatment of constipation, bilious ness. sick headaches, impaired diges tion and like disorders. The Tablets are easier to take and more pleasant in effect than pills, then they not only move the bowels, but improve the bowels and correct any disorders of the stomach and liver. For sale by Cherokee Drug Co., Gaffney; L. D. Allison, Cowpens. Peace hath her victories, etc , etc., but even her best friends must con fess her a trifle weak on tbe anecdotal side. Itoy’H life Naved from MeiubnuiotiH Croup. C. W. Lynch, a prominent citizen of Winchester, Ind , writes, “My lit tle boy had a severe attack of mem branous croup, and only got relief after taking Foley’s Honey and Tar. He got relief after one dose and I feel thatf,ifc saved the life of my boy.” Refuse substitutes. For sale by Cherokee Drug Co. In figuring on what you might have been you will find a good deal more comfort in working down than up. Hancock’s Liquid Sulphur will give you immediate relief and per manently core all sneb diseases as Ec zema. Pimples, Tetter, Herpes, Ring worm. Dandruff. Diphtheria, Sore Throat, Cuts, Burns, Open Sores, and all blood and skin troubles. Hundreds of cases of skin diseases have been permanently cured by the use of Hancock’s Liquid Sulphur after all other remedies failed. For sale by the Cherokee Drug Co. A snob is a person who is either unable or unwilling to conceal tbe fact tnat be thinks be is better than we are. The Value Of Expert Treatment. Everyone who is afflicted with a chronic disease experience great diffi culty in having their case intelli gently treated by the average physi cian. These diseases can only be cured by a specialist who understand them thoroughly. Dr. J. Njewton Hathaway, of Atlanta Ga., is acknowl edged tbe most skillful and successful specialist in tbe United States. Write him for bis expert opinion of your case, for which be makes no charge. Quite a few widows marry, it is supposed, to avoid the risk of being thought old enough to know better. Dickey’s Dyspepsia Cure cures in digestion, soar stomach, heartburn, costiveness, gnawing and burning pains at pit of stomach, sick head ache. Try it. One l octle will give you relief. 8 B. Crawley <fc Co. gometimes there may he a safety in nnmbers, but it seems more or less dangerous when two are made one. Thousands of people have been cured of rheumatism by taking Rhen- macide. Have you tried It. Pi'm- tively does not injure, hot H. • *.fira the organs of digestion. A' Drug- gltt.