Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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I \ Thousands Hare Kidney Trouble and Don’t Know it. How To Find Out. Fill a bottle or common glass with your water and let it stand twenty-four hours; a sediment or set- — tling indicates an | unhealthy condi tion of the kid neys; if it stains your linen it Is evidence of kid ney trouble; too frequent desire to pass It or pain in the back is also convincing proof that the kidneys and blad der are out of order. What to Do. There is comfort in the knowledge so often expressed, that Dr. Kilmer’s Swamp- Root, the great kidney remedy fulfills every wish in curing rheumatism, pain in the back, kidneys, liver, bladder and every part of the urinary passage. It corrects inability to hold water and scalding pain in passing It, or bad effects following use of liquor, wine or beer, and overcomes that unpleasant necessity of being compelled to go often during the day, and to get up many times during the night. The mild and the extra ordinary effect of Swamp-ttoot is soon realized. It stands the highest for its won derful cures of the most distressing cases. If you need a medicine you should have the best. Sold by druggists in 50c. and$l. sizes. You may have a sample bottle of this wonderful discovery and a book that tells more about it, both sent absolutely free by mail, address Dr. Kilmer & Horae of Hwfunp-Koot Co., Binghamton, N. Y. When writing men- lion reading this generous offer in this paper. Don’t make any mistake, but re* member the name, Swamp-Root, Dr. Kilmer’s Swamp-Root, and the ad dress, Binghamton, N. Y., on every bottle. CURES STOMACH 0 l 'HE body gets its life from * food properly digested. Healthy digestion means pure blood for the body, but stomach troubles arise from cardessness in eating and stomach disorders upset the entire system. Improp erly masticated food sours on the stomach, causing distressing pains, belching and nausea. When over-eating is persisted in the stomach becomes weakened and worn out and dyspepsia claims the victim. Thedford’s Black-Draught ! cures dyspepsia. It frees the stomach and bowels of congested matter and gives the _ stomach new life. The stomach is quickly invigorated and the natural stimulation results in a good appetite, with the power to thor oughly digest food. You can build up your stomach with this mild and natural remedy. Try Thedford’s Black- Draugnt today. You can buy a package from your dealer for 25c. If he does not keep it, send the money to The Chattanooga Medicine Co., Chattanooga, Tenn., and a package will D# mailed you. THEDFORD’S HACK-DMUGHTJ D f8!K' # Early HSsers The famous little pills* i For Cjo u g h s --Murray’s Horehound, Mullein and Tar. J 25c for large bottle. The Hege Loo Beam SAW MILL WITH Heaoogk-King Feed Works Eitanras and Boilers, Woodworking Machinery, Cotton Ginning, Brick- making and Shingle and Lath Machinery, Corn Mills. Era, Etc. GIBBKS MACHINERY CO., Colombia, S. C* THE QlBBES SHINGLE MACHINE By Rev. Frank De Witt Talmage, D. D. CABBAGE PLANTS FROM THE BEST TESTED SEEDS. Now “ready for shipment. Large strong, healthy. These plants were grown in the open air ana will stand severe freeze without injury. Early Jersey, Wakefield, Large Type or Charleston Wakefield, which are the best known varieties of early cabbage. Also Henderson’s Succession, the best large, late and sure header. Au gusta Early Trucker, also a fine type of late variety. Neatly packed in light baskets, $1.50 per thousand; for 5,000 or over, $1.25 per thousand, F. O. B. ^express office. Special prices made on large lots. |CHAS. M. GIBSON, Dec-i6-4mo Youngs Island, S. C. Subscribe for Tho Ledger, only 91.00 a year., Los Angeles, Cal., March 12.—In al most every home throughout the hind the topic chosen by the preadier In this sermon is a more or less familiar one. The text Is Proverbs x, 1, “A fool ish son Is the heaviness of his mother." Death Is an enemy. The Bible dis tinctly declares It. I remember some years ago, when visiting one of the New Zealand cities, this thought was impressed upon me as never before. A young man, a musical genius, had late ly come from London and captured that whole city by his organ playing. He was to play that Sunday In the church where we were worshiping. The night before, coining home from practicing upon tho keys, he sat down to eat din ner with his wife and two children. Suddenly he began to gasp. A fish bone had caught in his throat. In a few minutes he was dead. The whole city was shocked at the awful trag edy. The church was draped in black. The organ was covered with crape. Among the sobs of the dead man’s friends his pastor preached a eulogy upon this young man’s life from I Co rinthians xv, 20, “The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” As the preacher uttered those solemn words they sank into his hearers’ consciences, an axiomatic truth. Oh, yes, death is an enemy. Death at times seems to be a cruel and a merciless enemy. It breaks asunder the marital bands. It lifts the little buby out of the crib and shuts her for ever from our eyes by the closing of the coffin lid. It strikes down the stroug man who is proclaiming God’s word In the pulpit. It empties the office of the physician who is bending over the pa tient It sometimes sends the pleading lawyer to the grave oven before the murderer whom he has defended expi ates his crime upon the gallows. A Living; Sorrow. But when listening to that sermon in the faroff country of New Zealand I soliloquized thus: “That widow is to day having her heart crushed by the hearse’s wheels even as the Indian juggernaut used to mangle the bodies of the Hindoo devotees. But a living sorrow can be more formidable and a more awful enemy than a sorrow of the grave. The fiendish acts of a disso lute, a debauched, a drunken, a cruel or an unfaithful husbaud can weigh more heavily upon the wife’s heart than the corpse of a dead husband. And by the same reasoning the evil deeds of an undutlful or unfaithful son fail upon the parental heart with a more crushing weight than the sod that falls upon the coffin lid of a dead child. Thus today, from a parental standpoint, I would preach upon the Agonizing sufferings of a father and a mother when their children go astray and do wrong. I include here the fa ther’s sufferings, as well as the moth er’s. The full wording of the verse of my text embraces both parents. “A wise son maketh a glad father.” That sentence. Interpreted from the negative standpoint means, “A bad boy maketh a sad father, and a foolish son Is the heaviness of his mother.” Why sad? Why heavy? First be cause the true father and mother can never separate their Joys and sorrows from the joys and sorrows of their cliild. Though a man may live after ! his right arm has been amputated, the ’ hand and the arm cease to live as soon as the surgeon’s knife has cut the ar teries and the bones which unite them to the shoulder. But here nature seems to reverse the conditions of life. Though a child may live Independent of his parent, a true parent can never live Independent of his children. From the parental standpoint the parental life and the child life are not only bone of one bone and flesh of one flesh, but their existences are truly grafted upon each other. Law of Love Is Unequal. From the standpoint of a child you may not believe this. You ask: Is not the love between parent and child a mutual love? Why, then, should not its saparatlon affect the one equally with the other? Oh, no! The law of love is unequal. The one who makes sacrifices has a stronger affection than the one for whom the sacrifices are made. I go into the sculptor's studio, and I say: “Thorwaldsen, why art thou bending so lovingly over yonder piece of cold marble? Has the stone a heart?” “Oh, no,” answers the Dan ish sculptor. “I do not love this stone because it has a heart. I love It be cause I have put my heart Into It in my effort to bring out the beautiful figures which there I see slumbering or beckoning to me from the cold stone.” Why does the artist love his canvas and the composer his oratorio? Because their life’s work has gone into the creations of those masterpieces of art or of music. Why did Christopher Wren's life seem ter be anchored to St. Paul's cathedral and Isaac Newton’s life to his laboratory? Because in these places those men spent most of their earthly existence in order to work out the problems of their lives. Love Inspired by sacrifice. That Is true. Then how can a true father and mother help loving their children? Bow can they ever separate their ex- Istenoe from the Joya and sorrows, the tqcoeeeee and failures of their children? Oh, bow many sacrifices they have made! Was It ten years of sacrifice? More than that—twenty years, thirty years, forty years. For years and years the burden of raising their fam ilies never left their minds and hearts. If I could take you hack to your old homestead thirty years ago, I would find all you children sound asleep. The mother and father—what are they talk ing so earnestly about? "Father,” says the mother, “cannot you meet the mort gage on the farm unless we cut down our expenses? Then I will have to let the hired girl go. and I will do my own cooking and washing.” “Well.” said your father, “we must not economize at the children’s'expense. I must make more money. We must raise the chil dren right. They must be educated.” Cannot Pornret Them. Why did your mother’s hair grow white at thirty-five years of age and your father’s face begin to he “crow marked?” Neither in the morning, noon nor night could they be found shrinking from their unceasing labors for feeding, clothing and educating their children. Now, man. do you think it is possible, after a quarter of a cen tury of the hardest kind of work has gone for the support and development of the children, that the parents could ever be Independent of them? Oil, no. Your father practically said: “If my children turn against me, then will my life be a failure Indeed. If my boys turn out badly and my girls do not do what they ought to do, then will earth ly life hold hut little joy either for me or their mother.” My friends, your fathers and mothers worked too hard for their children for you to disappoint them in the results of their life’s work. No matter what you do or say, you cannot make them forget you or cease to live for you. Even the sinful plot of a Hebrew prince to steal from a father his throne could not make David do aught but qling to Absalom while he was alive and sorrow for the wayward boy after he was dead. But another reason why the burden of a sinful child Is hard for the parent to bear—no sooner does a hoy or a girl begin to go astray than a true father and mother agonize on account of the stingings of a bitter self reproach. Mark you this, wayward children—your parents do not blame you entirely for your sins. They are blaming them selves. They are looking away back over tho scenes’of the past They are saying to their own hearts: “Did I do right when I let my boy do this or that or the other thing? Did I set my daughter the wrong example? Did I pray earnestly enough for my children when they were In my own nursery?” Oh, the sadness; oh, the sorrow; oh. the bitter, hitter pangs of a merciless self denunciation which comes to the parents when their boys and girls turn out badly! “A foolish son is the heavi ness of his mother.” Aye, heavy in deed is ho not only on account of the boy’s sins, hut also on account of those of his parents. Let me illustrate my thought by a very common incident in life. There comes a quick ring at the bell. The summons calls me to go to your home. There T find your wife dying. I bring to you all the gospel comfort I can. I say: “Mr. So-and-so, God’s will be done. The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord." You say nothing. You keep your lips closely sealed. The more I call the less I find that you are comforted. At last, some day when we are alone, I say, “Mr. So-ard-so. what is the matter?’ “Well,” you an swer, “I do not know what to think. You say it Is God’s will that my wife died. I know It is not God’s will. I know my negligence killed her. For months and months my wife coughed badly. She had two or three hard spells of sickness. The doctors told me she ought to go south, but some how I could not bring myself up to the resolve to let her go. The Journey would cost a lot of money. Besides that, I needed her by my side. I could have saved her if I had sent her south in time. Oh, why did I not let her go? Why did I not let her go?’ That is the remorse the true mother and the fa ther have when their boys and girls go astray. “Oh, why did I not do dif ferently when my children were by my side? Why did I not pray more and live better than I did?’ Trusted Too Much. But, my friends, though your parents made many mistakes In your bringing up, tell me were not most of their er rors made on account of the gentleness rather than the meanness of their hearts? Even in« their weaknesses would you not have bad them just as they were? Let me see; you started to go astray first because they trusted you too much. They never thought that you would or could do wrong. When you came home from college they were so proud to see you. They had kept sending check after check. My, how hard It was to get that money! But it was for their boy. And, oh, the awful awakening they had when they found the money they sent, that hard earned money, was being spent for sin! Don’t you remember how their hands trem bled when they were placed upon your shoulder and their lips quivered when they kissed you for the first time after that shock? Don't you remember how their tears—not your tears, but theirs— were left upon your cheek when they kissed you, a prodigal, returning home? Don’t you remember how angry your father became when your employer first Insinuated that you had embez- sled some of his money? Old as he was, his clinched fist was ready to knock that employer down. But after the undeniable proofs were presented what did be do? Did he allow you to be sent to Jail, as you ought to have been? It did no good to pay up that deficit or embezzlement Since then you have been cheating every one else you could. No, he did not let yon go to Jail. He took every dollar that he had saved up to care for your mother and himself in their old age. He turned it all In and signed notes for a thou sand dollars more to save you from your just punishment. He ought not to have done It, but now lu his old age arc you still going to sin and have him lacerated by remorse because he has been too kind to you? But Is It to be wondered at that par ents, on account of their great love for their children, err many times over by being lenient? For years I never had sympathy for fathers and mothers who. as 1 expressed it, were willing to pay their children’s expenses to perdition. I always said if I had any hoys and j they got drunk once I would forgive j them and get their clothes out of pawn ! and got them on their feet again. If they stole once I would keep them from going to Jail. But, If they did It the sec- 1 ond time, to Jail or to the county poor ' house they would go. As my own boys are now growing up, do I think I l would do It?' Perhaps. But I fear I would do just as most fathers do. I ! would make the mistake of giving all I had, of running into debt and, If ueces- ! sary, perhaps of destroying my own | good name, If I could only save my I boys. Oh, wayward children, It Is not : you who should blame your fathers and mothers for kindness which proves to have been mistaken! They were Indul gent to you, they were blind to your faults, they trusted you, believing that you would do right. You see now, as they see, that it would have been bet ter for you If they had been more strict and severe. But will you blame them ' for that? It was their love for you that was their fault. How have you re- | paid that love? Return. I beseech you, and beg their forgiveness. Backx Too Weak For Bardcnti. But there Is another reason why we sympathize with broken hearted par ents who are bearing the heavy bur dens of wayward and sinful children. Those burdens are placed upon backs too weak to carry them and upon hearts when they are too tender to suffer. It makes a great deal of differ ence how a man can bear a burden, whether he Is old or young, sick or well, tottering or straight limbed. You would not hitch an old horse up to a load lie could easily have drawn In his prime. Neither, foolish son, should you make your parents In their old age bear the burdens of your sins. How old are your parents? “Oh,” you say, "father Is about sixty years of age, and mother Is about the same.” You know when our parents married they did not do as do many people of the present day. They did not wait until they had amassed a fortune. Then the daughters were ready to start with the sons at the bottom of the lad der to climb up. Therefore they mar ried when they were young. Once young together, now they have grown old together.” And then yonr lip quiv ers as you say: “But mother Is not as strong as she used to be, and that old pain has come back In father’s heart. He had a fainting spell last week.” Ah, yes, they are growing old together! Perhaps one of them Is already gone. Is It not a mean act, an awfully mean act, on your part to take a broken down woman or an old broken down man and place upon them the burden of your unpardoned sins? They once carried you in their arms; now you ought to be willing to let them lean upon your arm. They once wiped away your tears; now you should bo willing to wipe away theirs. They once lived and are still living to make you happy; now you ought to strive to make their last days happy. Do not put that heavy burden of your wicked ness upon their hearts. They am too . old to bear it. “But” some one tays, “my old father and mother are not entirely dependent upon me for their happiness. I am not the only child. As my parents are old fashioned folks, so they had an old fashioned family. Their family was a big one. I hate four brothers and three sisters, and, with the exception of one brother, we are all alive today and have families of our own. Two of my brothers are gospel ministers. I am Che only black sheep in the fam ily. Thus yon need not worry about the old folks. Five children out of six who are Christiana la not such a bad record.” Ah, my brother, when you speak like that, even though you are married, I know you have not yet fathomed the depth of your mother’s and Dither's love. The true Christian parents' happiness la dependent not upon the Christian Uvea of a few, hut of all their children. No matter how many children a Christian mother has, she is never happy unless all are in the gospel fold. She wfll never be happy if one fingers outside. You remember the old story of how a rich man want ed to adopt one of the children of .a large family belonging to a German peasant The rich man said to the fa ther, “I will take any child you se lect” That night while all the chil dren were asleep the father and the mother went from bed to bed to make their choice. “Not this one,” said they; “not that one;” “not the other one.” So they went through all the rooms. Though they had many children, they could not let one of them go. So, my friends, though you may have brothers who are Christians and sisters who are Christians, that la not enough for that old gray haired father and mother. They want all their children to be Christians. Will you not leave the crooked path of sin today to make them happy? Year sins, your unpar doned sins, are pressing heavily upon their hearts. “Oh,” says some one, “would that I could do as you ask! I would do any thing on earth If I could only lift the burden of my sins, which I compelled my dear old father and mother to car ry, hut It is too late—It is, alas, too late! They are now forever past car rying the burden of my sins. My fa ther died aa did the father of the Scotch poet On hla sickbed he was asked by hla minister If he was worried about anything. Then my father look ed at me aa the father of Robert Burns lookad at hla son on a similar occasion, and he answered: 'Nothing. I am wor rying about nothing except my boy Robert.’ But father Is dead now. I can never bring him back to tell him how I have repented of my past sins.” Bearing Bardenn In Heaven. Your father and mother beyond the burden of your sins? Friend, I do not know about that. Even lu heaven I think they are still longing and hoping for our salvation. 1 for one cannot un derstand ho\jr there can be Joy In heav en over one sinner that repentoth and not any thoughts about us who are still unrepentant One of the greatest of New York pastors once told me that when anything went wrong In his life he used to feel the warm, loving arms of his redeemed daughter about his neck, and he could hear her dear lips speak to him words of counsel which would bring him to his better self. I do not believe it beyond the range of pos sibilities for our dear ones to be anx ious about our unrepentant souls. Even now I would not be surprised If they were sending forth an angelic messen ger to find out what our decision Is to be. Heaven, beautiful heaven! Have our redeemed parents any burdens about our unpardoned sins In heaven? Perhaps by taking you on a past Journey to the place where I spent most of my boyhood days I might help you to a decision to give your hearts to Jesus Christ. The Journey which you are to take occurred a short time after my father’s burial. After his body had been laid away to sleep by the side of my mother I said to my sister, “Come, let us go and look at the old house.” We walked down the street where we both had played many years before. As I went along I began to call up the names of the different neighbors. <But the houses now had strange faces looking out of the win dows. The little children who were playing in the street looked much like my old playmates. They laughed and shouted and Jumped Just as we used to Jump, but their eyes were different. They edged off from the sidewalk as we came along. We were strangers to them. They were strangers to us. Ah, yes. here Is the old house. It stands as a sentinel overlooking Fort Green park, where one of the old Revo lutionary battles was fought and where some of the old Revolutionary veterans lie buried. From the outside the old house looked about the same. There was the vine mother planted, still crawling over the side and clinging to the roof and trying to cover up tho windows. Indeed, the house looked so much like the past that I thought for an Instant mother would be waiting for me In the front room to welcome me home from college. Just to the rear of the house was the old grapevine ar bor built by Captain Spicer before he lost his wife and manly son, whom I can Just remember. I had often taken my dessert of fruit there before I an swer the dinner bell. But, come; I must not linger outside. Here, let me take a peek in at the window. I won der If yonder policeman will think I am a thief. He wears Just the same kind of brass buttons as did the officer who used to chase me off the park grass when I was playing “hound and hares” and climbing up yonder walls more Hke a trapeze performer than a hare scurrying for her burrow. VlnltlnR the Old Home. Yes, here is the parlor. There I saw my first Christmas tree. There they laid me as a little baby In a basket as a Christmas present for my father. There, In that same room, I first saw the dead face of a relative. My broth er’s casket lay there. Mother’s body was covered with flowers there. And there we met to laugh as well as to weep. Up and through the house we went. Each room had for us a history. In each place we could see the living and the dead side by side. Now It was a sister In her bridal robes, now a death bed scene, now—but stop; I cannot go further. You would not have me if you could. The history of my old homo was merely the history of yours, only under other names. With us it was Jessie, De Witt, May, Edith, Frank, Daisy, Maude. With you it was Ger trude, Sarah, Carrie, William, John, Walter. Names different; scenes all the same. That afternoon I went away from the old homestead with a sad heart. “All that scene of love gone forever!” I kept saying. “All gone, all gone!” Is It all gone forever? But that night as I sped on west toward my own home, where my wife and children were wait ing to greet me, I was looking out of the train window. I had my cheek resting upon my hand. I know not whether I was asleep or awake. But, whether asleep or awake, suddenly a strange vision came to me. I seemed to see the dear faces of my loved ones who are gone. Among the twinkling stars of the night I saw their bright eyes and heard them speaking to me. They seemed to say: “The past is not dead. We are going to have our re unions again. We are here waiting We are waiting for you. Will you live for Christ as we lived, that we may have these reunions?’ Are our parents In heaven concerned about us? They so loved us here, they were so anxious about our best Inter ests, that I cannot believe they have forgotten us now. What news could so gladden their hearts, could the an gelic messengers that pass from earth to heaven bring to them, than tho nows of your repentance? Shall we let them wait and keep waiting for our answer? Father, mother, we are coming! Yes, in a little while, after we have done our work for Christ, we shall come. Oh, sinful child, thou art not an or phan I You have a heavenly Father waiting. You have a redeemed earthly father and mother waiting. WQt thou not lift from them the burden of their anxiety? Wilt thou not enhance their heavenly Joys by the aaeuranee that thou art coming to complete the fam ily circle around the throne? {OaMrrtght, IMS, by Loots IQopscM Champion Liniment for Bheumatism. ri5o h ? 8 ' iP rake ’ a carrier at Chaplnville, Conn.,.. says: “Chamber- S n , t Lf al \ Ba,m is the cham Pl°n of all liniments. The past year I was troubled a great deal with rheumatism in my shoulder. After trying several cures the storekeeper here recom mended this remedy and it complete- Ur<3 i m . e '” Thore ‘a no use of any one suffering from that painful ail ment can be obtained for a small sum. no application gives prompt relief wm nr c 1 ontlnued 11 se for a short time will produce a permanent cure. For sale by Cherokee Drug Co. The man who hates to see another a Mm«elf' makUy saI “ fro “ A Destructive Fire. To draw the fire out of a burn, or leavin e a scar, use DeWItt’s Witch Hazel Salve. A speci fic for piles. Get the genuine. J L Tucker, editor of the Harmonizer Cen- « r M'f*- A1 w.. Writes: ^ have used De- Witt s Witch Hazel Salve in my fam- ily for Piles, cuts and burns. It Is the best salve on the market. Every fam ily should keep it on hand.” Sold by Cherokee Drug Co., Gaffney; L D Allison, Cowpens. A man must be short on character when he has to assert himself by his clothes. A Dinner Invitation. After a hearty meal a dose of Kodol Dyspepsia Cure will prevent an at tack of Indigestion. Kodol is a thorough digestant and a guaranteed cure for Indigestion, Dyspepsia, Gas on the Stomach, Sour Risings, Bad Breath and all stomch trouble. Watkins, Lesbus, Ky., says: “i testify to the efficacy of Kodol in cure of Stomach Trouble. I ^ J ilicted with Stomach Trouble Wnr j teen years and have taken six bottles MA putties Ol your Kodol Dyspepsia Cure, which pnHroltr ^ entirely cured me. The six hot were worth $1,000 to me.” Ko««i_, * s P e Psia Cure will digest any qnani ty of all the wholesome food you want to eat while your stomach tnirnff a rest recuperates and grows strong. This wonderful preparation is Justly entitled to all of its many remarkable cures. Sold by Cherokee Drug Co, Gaffney; L. D. Allison, Cowpens. Half an evil eye can see more In iquity than the whole of an innocent eye. Always Liberal to Chuches. Every church will be given a libttUl quantity of L. & M. paint. Call for it 4 gallons Longman & Martinez L. & M. Paint mixed with three gallons linseed oil, will paint a house. W. B. Barr, Charleston, W. Va, writes, “Painted Frankenburg block with L. & M.; stands out as though varnished." Wears and covers like gold. Don’t pay $1.50 a gallon for linseed oil, which you do In ready-for-use paint. Buy oil fresh from the barrel at 60 cents per gallon and mix it with L. & M. It makes paint cost about $1.20 per gallon. Sold by Smith Hardware Co, Gaffney; Blacksburg Dug Co, Blacks burg. Subscribe for The Ledger $1.00 a year. Murray’s Horehound, Mul lein and Tar will cure your cough. Large bottle for 25c. BANNER 8A LYE the most healing salve in the world. Make your druggist give y.o u Murray’s Horehound, Mullein and Tar. Cures your cough. 25o a bottle. CABBAGE PLANTS FOR BALE. We are again prepared to fill any and all orders for Early and Late var rieties of Cabbage Plants. They are best known to experienced Truckers, are grown in open air near salt water and will stand cold without injury. Price $1.50 per 1,000 f. o. b. here. We make special prices on large loti and solicit correspondence. All plants packed in light baskets and shipped C. O. D. when money does not accompany orders. We guarantee satisfaction. Address all orders to W. N. Sands & Son, Meggetts, S. C. Jan. 13-la w-3mo. West End Bargains I have purchased the stock of Staple and Fancy Groceries, Confection eries, Cigars, Tobacco, Dry Goods and Notions formerly belonging to J. A. Graves, in “West End.” I |_bought the goods at Kig; K.ecluction From first prices, and will sell just as I bought—Low Down. Call and in spect my stock and you will find I can save you money. B. F. Gibbs, Graves’ Old Stand—West End. WANTEDI All youi clothes that need brightening up, bring them to us. We will make them look fresh and new. All work done by expert tailors. See us>nd Join our pressing club.t V. B. R0BIIS01, Tata. Over W. U. Telegraph Office. Phone No. 43. ( 'A i