Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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* ■ K * ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦•♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦*****t****fff*«f*??**t****ff?*ff i; ^Ihe REFORMER By CHARLES M. SHELDON. Arikr of *% ISi Ste^s." Robert Hardy’s Seven Days,” Etc. Oopvriehl, 1901, by Chartet M. Sheldon 1 1 itltl mmi't 1 »111! n 11 i ,i As niglit deepened and returns began to come in slowly there seemed to be Bo decisive indications for either side. Ford, who had been with Gordon from the beginning, refused to leave, al though he was thoroughly exhausted. Gordon sank lower and lower. Twice they thought he had passed on. Each time he rallied. At 2 o’clock he was nearer death than he had ever been. From that time on the struggle of life for the spirit grew stronger. When dawn came, the doctor lifted his hand and a grim smile expressed his satis faction. The crisis was passed, and John Gordon, by the grace of God, was to live and struggle on for a few years more before his spirit should go to God. who gave it Out in Bowen street and around Hope House the boys were crying out special election editions. Miss An drews and Ford could hear the words “Victory for Reform ticket!" “Triumph for law and order!” “Chambers elect ed city attorney!” Ford stole down stairs and got a paper. The little fam ily of residents gathered in the library. The first questions asked were about John Gordon. “The doctor says he’ll live. Hurrah!” Ford cried feebly. He waved the pa per as if that was the special news that covered its first page with heavy type and exclamation points. Some one discovered Miss Andrews over by the window with tears on her face. Miss Hammond came up and put an arm about her. “Grand, isn’t it?” Miss Hammond said. “Yes. It did not seem possible in the night that he could live.” “Who? Tommy Randall?” Miss Hammond asked demurely. Miss Andrews laughed. “I’m rather unstrung by all this,” she said. “It is a good deal, isn’t it? Tommy’s death and Mr. Gordon’s life at the same time. But joy never kills, does it?” “It has never killed Miss Andrews yet,” said Ford. “But I don’t know how she will stand all this. I’m afraid it will go hard with her.” “I will try to accustom myself to it,” the head of the house answered, smil ing on them all. At the breakfast ta ble no one ever remembered to have seen her more interesting or fascinat ing. John Gordon rapidly grew stronger. When once life had claimed him, it Seemed as if all the forces of good came to his assistance. One day when lie had become strong enough he listened with the greatest delight to Ford’s account of the elec tion. “Chambers is going to make history for the double docker fellows. There are over a hundred cases filed already. The atmosphere around the end of Bowen street is of a dark blue. Tom my Randall lias skipped out for his health and carried with him the boodle he was careful not to use for campaign purposes. The property out here, in cluding his unfinished building, has all passed into other hands, and the city is likely to take measures toward con demnation and purchase. Of course that means lots of legislation and law’s delays, and so forth, but the gang is out of the city halls, aad Chambers and his gold bowed spectacles will move things as rapidly as the law permits, which to my mind is not fast enough to set anything afire. At the next elec tion the city ought to make Chambers a king and give him absolute authority to do as he pleases for the good of the city. But I tell you, Gordon, you missed a mighty good fight by being here the week before the election.” “So did you, my dear fellow, from what 1 hear of you,” said Gordon af fectionately. “Oh, I had a good fight over you,” said Ford. “There were also others. Miss Marsh came down or sent word every day. We were all determined not to let you die. But ’twas a good fight. I’m about used up. I turn you over to Miss Marsh.” “I’m sorry to miss you, Ford.” Gor don laughed lightly. “I’ve no fault to find.” “1 understand. You simply wunt a better looking nurse around. Don’t blame you,” said Ford, who was un commonly homely and not at all sensi tive over it “I did not say so,” replied Gordon, laughing again. He was light hearted. The world seemed good to him. The victory of the righteous forces in the city, the defeat of Tommy Randall, the prospect for the future and, above all. the thought of Luella filled him with Joy. Life was worth living after all There would always be battle, but vic tory was possible; always sorrow and trouble, but God was not dead. Every minute brought healing to him. When, a few days after. Miss Andrews told him that Miss Marsh was in the bouse, he felt almost equal to his old time en thusiasm. He was up and dressed, sitting by his window, which overlooked the same prospect as that commanded by the li brary window downstairs, when Luella stepped into the room. Bbe had put off coming to see him as long as possible. When she had no more excuses to offer, she went down to Hope House. Gordon of course asked to see her. He was’ growing ! strong so fast that there was no reason | why he should not sec her. I She came slowly into the room, and ! he started to rise and walk toward her, ! but he was not equal to it and sank back, smiling at her and not noting In bis effort the very grave look in her face. “I have been told I need another nurse, Luella, but 1 will promise not to be”- He noted her look and instantly felt troubled by it. She had come up to his chair and put out her hand. He had bent over and placed his lips on it and felt it to be trembling and cold. “What is the matter? You are ill.” “No; but, John”— She sat down near him and covered her face. John Gordon sat very still. He did not break the silence. “Oh, let us not—do not ask me to— you are not strong enough. It is cruel in me to come to you in this way, but lam not able to act a part”— “What is it?” he asked quietly. She looked up. He was gazing at her so gently, so lovingly, that she was deeply moved. She rose and kneeled down by him and let him put his hands over hers. “John,” she exclaimed wildly, “is it right that I should make you unhappy aU your life?” “There is only one way you can do that.” “Yes; but it is not the way you mean. It is the way I mean. If I should be your wife and come here to live, I should be acting a part I am not made to act. It would be unfair to you. When you began to realize the impossi bility of it for me. then your unhappi ness would begin.” “Your promise”— John Gordon be gan, while his eyes sought to dwell on hers and then wandered away to the window. “My promise! Oh, it was given when I thought you were dying. You can not know the agony I have suffered! John, tell me you despise me. What a contradiction I am to myself, to you, to everybody!” “There are no contradictions in true love,” said John Gordon gently. He removed his hands from hers and turned his face away. She slowly rose and stood looking out of the window. “It is that, that!” she exclaimed pas sionately, pointing at the view from the window. “It would kill me, all that dreary, hideous, unattractive, hor rible humanity, with its miserable, sor did, mean, selfish life. To dwell with it, to neighbor it—I cannot—I cannot! It would be a sin for me to protend that I could be happy in that kind of a life.” “And yet,” said John Gordon, look ing at her with a new look, in which pity for her predominated more than any feeling for himself—“and yet it is the kind of humanity that the Son of God came to save. lam sorry for you, Luclja. God help you*.” She turned toward him swiftly. Something in his tone reminded her of something Mrs. Penrose laid said. “It is too late. I was born as I am.” Then she came nearer. “Do you for give me for bringing you this unhap piness? Will you forget me?” “I will forgive,” he said simply. “You will also forget in time,” she replied after a pouse. He did not an- A V'' - l\ \ i’ A \ :\ ane lumca ana luonca oock. swer and she walked slowly toward the door. There she turned and looked back at him. He was looking out o£ the window gravely. His face, thin and pale, ennobled In every line by suffering and service, seemed to her for a moment to be more than earthly in its beauty and power. She hesitated. What she was renouncing began to be dimly made real to her. And yet to lose the things— Slowly she turned her head auu opened the door, stepped out Into toe ball, shut the Loor and went down Into the library. With a sense of relief sue found the room empty and quietly went out of the archway and back to her father’s bouse. But the man that she had left baa cried her name Just as she closed the door. It was Just one cry. Then ue struggled down upon his knees, auu for a time his soul beat about in the dark for help, crying and sobbing in iu» poor human weakness over what was gone. Finally God drew near and com forted him. When he got up again, he felt something like a sudden illumina tion of his spirit This woman—was she not right? How could two walk to gether except they were agreed? Coulc! love hesitate or doubt or be uncer tain over the future and be love? Did he care for a heart that must be driven (o ids by force or lured to it by pity? Was the hunger of life ever satisfied with the husks of reality? Up from the lowly place of his spirit’s depres sion he l ose step by step until he rested his affections in his growing fate that the future would satisfy him with a human love that knew no such thing a!) doubt or fear. During the day that followed this growing strength that looked into the future with confidence he had several interviews with friends who came to Hope House to congratulate him on his recovery and talk over the work of the settlement. Among these callers one day was Mr. Marsh. "Gordon.” he said frankly after he hud expressed Ids interest in the pro posed use of the property be had turned over to the settlement, “I am deeply sorry that you and Luella have decided to go your ways apart. She needs just your strength. She is going to lead a life of aimless effort.” “It is best as it is. sir,” Gordon had answered. “There is no possibility of any recon ciliation, then?” "No; we have not quarreled; wo have simply understood. There can be no othir way for her or me.” “I am sorry.” Mr. Marsh sighed. “Slit* needed you, and so do I.” He spoke wistfully. Gordon read in it a whole history of human weakness, struggling up toward light and strength. He put his baud into the older man’s. “If my friendship is of any value to you, Mr. Marsh, you have it.” Marsh went away, and Gordon mused over his future. How far would the man use his wealth, his education, his responsibility, to help the weak and overcome his horror of humanity’s sin and trouble because he learned to love instead of tremble? Paul Falmouth was a welcome visit or. He was much encouraged over the results of the city campaign. “I learned my share from it,” he said after giving Gordon his experience with the young people’s eitfie league In his church. •‘The church is not all bad. There is great hope in its young life. There is where I am going to put my own strength and enthusiasm. I have stopped preaching great sermons to old people. I have begun to teach my chil dren. I have begun to learn that the Office of the ministry is not to draw the crowd, but to instruct a handful and make disciples. Gordon, 1 see some hopeful signs in the church of the fu ture.” “Glad to hear it,” Gordon answered gladly. “I always believed the church contained leaven. There is always hope for any institution that has leav en in it.” “The leaven of the church of this century is its children,” the minister said and went his way, leaving Gordon to muse over the power of that force that represented through all the ages the love of Jesus, an organization ob scured and at times almost extinct, but glowing yet with an inward illumi nation that has not forgotten the com mands of a Master who loved the church and gave himself for it, that he might sanctify it and make of It an in stitution at last without spot or wrin kle or any such thing. Mrs. Penrose was one of Gordon’s most interesting visitors. She came in and chatted familiarly and at times flippantly of all things on earth and under heaven. At last she said sud denly: “So Luella has got her flesbpots. They contain bitter brew for her. Are you satisfied?” “There was nothing else for her to do,” Gordon answered after a mo ment’s silence. “You’re goiug to grow better for it She’s going to grow worse. I did my best for you.” “Thank you,” Gordon answered sim ply. “Archie tried again the other day. He will never make another attempt. I have advised him to go abroad. Ho sails next month.” Gordo* made no reply. Mrs. Penrose sighed. “Why don’t you and Miss Andrews”— Gordon gave her a look that stopped her. “Pardon me. Go on with your good work for the children. Let me come down once in awhile and help. I’m not altogether bad, Gordon. Simply born so. But life’s a dreary sort of jumble to me. I made my choice. Goodby. Best wishes to you.” When she was gone, Gordon, hesitat ingly to himself, lifted the curtain of her future as It might be. It was a future of contradictions. Poor, wasted life of an Immortal spirit! How you have missed and shall miss forever the Joys of triumphant womanhood! Poor, pitiable creature! Homeless! Child less! No two words In all human speech can more deeply describe your poverty, your loneliness! Julius Chambers was one of the most welcome callers as Gordon dally grew stronger and more buoyant “The city Is looking up,” he said In his cultured voice. “This housing prob lem Is something tremendous. It will simply have to come to cheap trans portation, city own the means, con demn all this property, tear down, build up, make suburban residence pos sible for the poor; in short, we’ve got a dozen questions In one Involved In <* _ _ __ _ the ♦qnemeut problem. But I’m hope fill. The business men are getting waked up. Best of all, the saloon is getting a lot of free advertising. The cranks are right, as they have been all the time, and we’ve got to come to it— wipe out the saloon, put a home in its place, that’s the only substitute worth anything. Public entertainment halls, resorts, gymnasiums, libraries, parks, bathhouses, all that, good as ’tis, can not equal a good home. The salvation of the city lies in its ability to build up Christian homes. That’s civic reform in a sentence.” He stayed longer than Ford said was good for Gordon. But Gordon said he was a tonic, and when he was gone he stretched himself, got up, walked across the room exulting in his return ing strength, and when Ford came In and began to expostulate Gordon laughed. “You don’t dare let me bit you,” he said, facing Ford sturdily. Ford looked at him critically, then backed off to a safe distance. “Don’t believe I will risk it with a man who helped knock out Tommy Randall.” “Not yet,” Gordon answered gently. “We’ve got our lifework cut out for us, Ford. This is only the beginning.” Miss Andrews came in. They were In the library now, for Gordon had been downstairs for one of his meals. “A letter from Mrs. Captain George Effingham,” she said with a smile, handing the letter to Gordon. It was a hearty message of good cheer from the old lady to all the set tlement workers, especially to Gordon, whom it congratulated on his recovery. She commended the use of her money in the campaign, and promised ijduO.OOO more toward the proposed park or to ward the education of public sentiment for removing the saloon. "Let us get at some of the causes of human sin and misery,” she wrote. "I am willing to give money to relieve misery, but I would much rather re move causes. I don’t want to think the money goes all the time for remedies. I would like to think some of it goes to preventives.” Gordon sat by the window reading. When he finished, he looked up, and Miss Andrews was standing near. Ford and the others were at the table. “You are feeling quite well again, Mr. Gordon?*’ “Yes; 1 am getting eager to go out again. 1 long to be at work.” She glanced at him and buried some thing quietly iu a very deep grave be yond all resurrection. “You are going to grow strong with work,” she said. “Yes.” He turned his face from her to the window. “It will be my life to work for the people.” ******* The city stretched out before bim as when he left his father’s house, full of human weakness, power, struggle, de feat, sin, selfishness. In a very positive, but not by any means fully defined, manner he began to feel Ids way with this age old problem of humanity. He realized that he had by no means served his apprenticeship. Please God, if he were granted twenty, years of vigor he would learn something of the ways of men and be used if God willed it to play his part manfully in the never ceasing drama. He thanked heaven that his love for the people was more sane and more passionate, too, than ever. There was also an abiding peace in his soul as lie marshaled up for re view all the possible forces of right eousness in the city, sometimes sleep ing, apathetie, indifferent, but always to be reckoned with. And it even stirred his soul that the world had not yet grown deaf to the cry of children nor its heart become cold to the sorrows of the poor. Hope was strong within him as he felt his life forces pulsing anew, summoning him to conflict for human rights, for a city of God on the earth. And he stretched out his arms toward the people he could see through the window, saying, “Let us love oue an other and all thiivgs will be possible." Thus Johu Gordon as he resolutely faced his future enshrined the people in his holy of holies as the current of their lives bore him on, their destinies Irrevocably woven into his own. THE END. The manager of one of the most successful furniture houses in Greater New York was asked to what one thing, in his opinion, the success of the concern was most due. He replied: 'The founder of the firm was a great believer in advertising, and to this fact may be ascribed the enormous business we are handling.” There is no business, however small, that cannot be increased by judicious, systematic, per sistent advertising. The giant oak does not gain its strength in a day. Magnificent buildings are not reared all at once, nor can their strength and beauty be appreciated until the finishing touches are put on. Is your business satisfactory? Are you making headway? Are you using to the best advantage the greatest of all business lev ers—advertising? K you are satisfied that you are, well and good; if not, drop in and talk it over with us. We have advertising space to sell, and advertising is a part of our ^ Perhaps ws can help you. INACTIVE OLD AGE. More Conduolvc to Drenrlnenn Tlmn to Sliortenlnir Life. There is far more evidence for the be lief in the dreariness of old age after active work ha> been laid aside than for the shortening of life which results from tiie enforced inactivity. Two not able instances and perhaps freer from doubt than most as to whether it is en nui alone that kills and not the disease of old age or a more specific malady are those of Napoleon the Great and Bismarck. The one lived six years in St. Helena, the other eight years at Friedrichsruh, each “eating out his heart.” If ever there were men who ought on the supposition to have been killed by the total suspension of their activities, these two ought to have been, hut it would be extremely diffi cult to show that they were. Though Napoleon was no more than fifty-three, yet it was the specific disease of cancer cf the stomach of which he died, and the connection between his exiled lone liness and the direct cause of his death does not seem very apparent. On the other hand, Bismarck at the age of seventy-five, when he was dismissed from the chancellorship, could not have had a likelihood of more prolonged years than he actually achieved out of office even if he had continued in office until the end. A wise man if not too dyspeptic will never lose touch with actual life. There are old men with young hearts, and the eider when he has a young heart is perhaps the most delightful type humanity can show us. —Saturday Review. Freak of a Thunderbolt. The annals of a French academy of science tell of a tailor’s adventure with a thunderbolt. He lived in a house pro vided with two chimneys—one for a fireplace and the other for a stove, the latter not in use. During a thunder storm a tremendous report was heard, and everybody thought that the house had been struck by lightning. Instant ly a blue flaming ball dropped into the fireplace and rolled out into the room, seemingly about six inches above the floor. The excited tailor ran around the room, the ball of fire playing about his feet. Suddenly it rose above ids head and moved off toward the stovepipe hole in the ceiling, which had a piece of paper pastod over it. The ball moved straight through the paper and up the chimney. When near the top, it ex ploded and tore the chimney into thou sands of fragments. The sight of the debris left by the explosion showed the family what would have been the con sequences had it exploded while on its gyrating passage through the room. Learn From the AnimulH. Learn of the animals. The horse teaches us to be silent under punish ment and patient in suffering. From the lion we learn bravado. From the cat we learn to prowl at niglit. From the dog we learn how to be faithful to a friend. The camel teaches us absti nence. The elephant teaches us how to be calm in adversity. The hippopota mus teaches us repose. The shy little rabbit teaches us how to die without a murmur. The antelope teaches us the foolishness of idle curiosity. The hop toad teaches us the evils of gluttony. The ant teaches us Industry and wis dom in council. The hen teaches us to go in out of the wet (yet I have seen fool hens which did not know the dif ference between sunshine and rain). Some men might learn of hogs how to be gentlemen.—New York Press. Folly Uualifled. The story is told of a man who by some unaccountable blunder by the ap pointing authority was made judge of a minor court. He could neither read nor write, but that did not give him any uneasiness, although it aroused some fears in the breast of his wife. “What are you going to do when there’s any reading or writing comes into cases?” she timidly inquired. “The folks tnat bring the readin’ will read it, and the folks that want the writin’ will write it,” calmly replied his honor, “or If they can’t I shall com mit ’em. All I’ve got to attend to, Hit- ty, is the judgin’, and I can do that as quick as anybody.” The Womliip of the Moo*. The Moslem still slaps his hands at the sight of the new moon and mutters a prayer, although the Koran appears to forbid the practice in the words. “Bend not In adoration of the sun or moon.” Herodotus accuses the ancient Persians of being moon worshipers, and. though they denied the practice, the following passage from the Zend Avesta would seem to be conclusive: “We sacrifice to the new moon, the holy and muster of holiness; we sacri fice to the full moon, the holy and mas ter of holiness.” Ponctaallty a Thief of Time. Mr. Max Heclit writes: “On Thurs day of last week at 3:30, the hour fixed for the rehearsal of ‘Trial by Jury,’ 1 met Mr. Gilbert at the stage door of the Lyric and congratulated him on his punctuality. ‘Don’t,’ lie replied. T have lost more time through being punctual than through anything else.’ ’’—London M. A. P. Initials. Enrolling Officer—What Is your name? Recruit—Owen Espy Casey. Enrolling Officer (with evident Irrita tion)—Shoot a few of those initials! O. N. S. P. K. C. what?—Chicago Trib une. •are Thlnar. “Name the world’s greatest com poser,” said the musical Instructor. “Chloroform,” promptly replied the young man who had studied mediciue. Over-Work Weakens Your Kidneys. Unhealthy Kidneys Make Impure Blood. All the b : coQ in your body passes through your kidneys or.ee every three minutes. The kidneys are your blood purifiers, they fil ter out the waste or impurities in the blood. If they are sick or out of order, they fail to do their work. Pains, aches ar.Aheu- matism come from ex cess of uric acid in the blood, due to neglected kidney trouble. Kidney trouble causes quick or unsteady heart beats, and makes one feel as though they had heart trouble, because the heart is over-working in pumping thick, kidney- poisoned bioed through veins and arteries. L used to be considered that only uripary troubles were to be traced to the kidneys, but now modern science proves that nearly all constitutional diseases have their begin ning in kidney trouble. If you are sick you can make no mistake by first doctoring your kidneys. The mild and the extraordinary effect of Dr. Kilmer’s Swamp-Root, the great kidney remedy is soon realized. It stands the highest for its wonderful cures of the most distressing cases and is sold on its merits by all druggists in fifty- cent and one-dollar siz es. You may have a' sample bcttle by mail Home of Swamr>-R'X>t. free, also pamphlet telling you how to find out if you have kidney or bladder trouble. Mention this paper when writing Dr. Kilmer & Co., Binghamton. N. Y. of beautiful pictute*- should arise wher ever the name of tlii; gallery is seen o> mentioned. Our PHOTOGRAPHS stand pre-eminent. Each one repre sents the thought care and skill of tin artist experienced ir. the use of the mod ern high class cam era. By studying out patrons we are ablt to pose them in i manner which add- much to their at tractiveness. June H. Carr tCS Limestone St ’1‘lione 170. Residence 171. / / ICE AND MEATS, I am now prepared to deliver Ice and Meats together or separate. I am still selling some fine Beef and Pork, and my Sausage is double ground, fresh each day. Domestic Fruits, Lemons, Oranges, Bananas, Country Produce when it can be had. Fresh Fish Fridays and Sat urdays. Canned Goods of all varieties. Heavy and Fancy Groceries, Cigars .vud Tobacco. Fat Cattle and Green Hides wanted. Mr. B. F. Green takes a delight in wait ing on the ladies. Come or call ’phone No. 6o. Burnett brick block. Yours for business, Iw w. TVICOUIIVIV. I also sell fine Kansas City Beef. KIDNEY DISEASES ■ - ■ ; = — are the most fatal of all dis eases. cm C V’O kidney cure it a iULlI O Guarantied Remedf or money refunded. Contains remedies recognized by emi nent physicians as the best for Kidney and Bladder troubles. PRICE 50c. and $1.00. FOLEYSHONEY^TAR fnr children i maf*» mirm* No •plat— If society took better care of Its poor out of Jail there would be less need of jails or Jailers.—Boston Transcript Things We Like Best Often Disagree With Us Because we overeat of them. Ib4S> (•a m follows. But there’s a way Is esoi pe such consequences. ▲ dose of s good digestant like Kodol will rellvo yaw atones. Your stomach Is simply too weak to digest what you eat. That’s ell Indigestion is. Kodol digests the fooh without tho stomach’s aid. Thus thP stomach rests while tho body is strength* oned by wholesome food. Dieting Is «S* neoessary. Kodol digests any kind of good food. Strengthens and invigorates, KwM Makes Rlok RmI ap - * _r*.0.DsWir*4< leootalnsStttfsMSt F U Sllberman Bros. Largest Fur Hout.c In Amorioa. Branohee All Over Europe. R S Highest cash price pai l for all kinds of raw furs. Hold your shir" •*?n until you get our price list. A > e /or it to-day. We mail ii free 8ILBERMAN BRO* 122to 128M'.fhit.ar, St.. Ch>( fco.llt.