Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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. * ► THE DARLINGTON NEWS, PUBLISH!!* !VEBYTHURSDAY MORNING ID. 3D, EVAISTS, PROPRIETOR. TERHS—$'* P«r Annum in Advance. One Square, first insertion $1.60 One Square, second insortion 1.00 insertion .50 Contract advertisements inserted upon the most reasonab'e terms. Marriage Notices and Obituaries, not exceeding six lines, inserted free. THE DARLINGTON ‘•FOR UR PRINCIPLE IS PRINCIPLE—RIGHT IS RIGHT—YESTERDAY, TO-DAY. TO MORROW, FOREVER.” 3P«tr?. “Some Mother’s Child.” At home or away, in the alley or street, Wherever I ebanoe in this wide world to meet A girl that is thoughtless, or a boy that is wild. My heart echoes softly, “Tis some moth er’s child.” And when I see those o'er whom long years have rolled, Whose hearts bavo grown hardened, whose spirits are cold; Be it woman al> fallen, or man all defiled, A voice whispers softly, “Ah I some moth er’s child." No mstter how far from the right she has strayed; No matter what inroads disuonor has made; No matter what elements cankered the pearl— Though tarnished and sullied, she is some mother’s girl. No matter how wayward his footsteps have been; No matter bow deep he is sunken in sin ; No matter bow low is his standard of joy— Though guilty and loathsome, he is some mother’s boy. That bead bath been pillowed on some tender bread ; That torm hath been wept o'er, those lips have been pressed ; That soul bath been prayed for, in tones sweet and mild; For her sake deal gently with—sotn • moth er’s child. I irftrtefc ^turi). The Village Beauty, Dora Maxwell wag tbe prettiest girl iu Dacre—a village which pro duced crops of pretty girls, just as naturally an it did big rocks shad ed roads, cool gleus, aid pictur esque aud highly dangerous water falls. Everyone liked Dora! Tbe .\oung men, because sbe was handsome aud unaffected ; the girls, because sbe was amiable, aud always bad the prettiest patterns of any one in the village, aud was quite ready to lend them; aud the mammas, on account of ber substantial charms —such broad meadows, such gootlly cattle, such stores of linen made np by tbe bands ot tbe tbritfy Dora, such wealth of massive silver and old fashioned china as belonged to Deacou Maxwell, and a goodly por tiou of which must go to bis eldest aud handsomest daughter, would have made even a squint, red hair, aud bad temper endurable iu their eyes. So all tbe village regarded ber as a sort of personal property, aud every mother who had a marriage able sou watched over ber with a vigilance aud iuterest truly surpris ing, aud which ought utterly tocou found those w ho don’t believe iu tbe natural goodness aud purity o' human uatnre. Spite of which, iu her tweuty-tbird year, Dora was Dora Maxwell still—a fact which she didn’t take at all to heart, though some of the envious l ad commenced to whisiier, “old maid.” It was tbe tirst Sunday in June, a warm, balmy, smiling, Iragraut morning, just deepening into noon, as tbe deacon and bis family came home from church. Mrs. Maxwell had ou her loose dress, aud was fanning herself by tbe window, while Dora and her two sisters, hav ing laid away their bats aud para sols, were getting dinner, when tbeir mother exclaimed: “Dear me, il there ain’t Eph Scbenck com in’ up the walk.” The girls giggled, and Dura reddened. Eph Scbenck was a long, tall, shambling, fieckled, r e d haired youth, who bad a disagreeable way of driving over to church from his father’s farm (ten miles distant), and then concluding to take dinner with Deacon Maxwell. She knew just how it would be. He would sit there, in that corner, by the eight-day clock, his chair tipped back, bis huge mouth open and bis eyes fastened on her iu stupid ad miration. He would choke himself at diuuer, and break out iu a per spiration, trying to say sometbiug teuder iu ber ear. He would go with them to church aud tumble up tbe steps; be would tread ou ber dress, aud tear it; be would insist ou singing out of the same book with her, and to a doleful tune of faisowu imagining; be would stare at her during tbe sermon, aud wipe bis sbiuiug forehead, alternately, till be had all tbe younger portion of the congregation engaged iu do ing tbeir best uot to niggle. He would go l»ack and choke himself at tea, aud alter tea father would go out to look after tbe chickens, aud mother aud the girls to see about tbe work, and then who could tell if be wouldn’t take it into bis stupid he. d to ask her to be Mrs. Epb Scbenck. Down went tbe cloth from Dora’s hand as Ibis last dread ful (tossibiliiy presented itself to her mind, and away sbe ran, like a startled deer, across tbe gardeu aud out of a little back gate into tbe broad meadow, where in ber baste sbe almost rushed into the arms of James Van Bushkirk, tbe clever son of a good-fur nothing father. YOL. xn. NO 13. DARLINGTON, S. 0.. THURSDAY, APRIL 1,1886. WHOLE NO 586. who bade fair to retrieve tbe posi tiou which bis father bad lost, but being only half way up the bill, was only partially countenanced by all those piudeut and worthy people w ho will nearly shake your band off wbeu you are safely at the top Dora was about to pass him with a dignified bow, but the young man, whose dark eyes were dancing with mischief, stopped ber, by gravely iuqui'ing: If she had tbe dyspepsia, and was ruuuiug for ex ercise t “No, sir, I am in a hurry,” tartly answered Dora, who thought it was none of bis business. “Ob ! indeed, don’t let me detain you then,” aud turning, he coolly walked on beside her. Dora bit ber lip. James Van Busk irk was the smartest, tbe worthiest, aud the most agreeable young man of her acquaintance; but she was a Maxwell, aud tbomdi it was never openly spoken of, there was a coat of arms, and certain traditions of titles and ancient splendor that she had not forgotten. She would uot be uncivil to Mr. Van Buskirk, but of course sbe could uot encourage him ; and bold ing her head at a much loftier angle than usual, she marched ou erect, aud in silence. “I think 1 saw Mr. Scbenck drive by a tew moments ago,” remarked James, did I not f” “It is quite likely, but what of it!” “Nothing, only it struck me as a little extraordinary, that according to my calculation you must have gone out of th-- back door precisely as be entered tbe Iront one.” This was too much for Dora's gravity, aud sbe bur»t into a hearty laugh. “You may think it does not con- ceni me,” proceeded the young man, with tbe same imperturbable gravity, “but I am ouly in pursuit of in formation. Am I to under stand, Miss Maxwell, that when I wish to see you, my best way will lie to knock at your father’s door, aud then take the shortest cut for the meadow !” Dora could scarcely credit ber senses. James Van Buskirk visit her! Wish to see her f In doubt whether to give him a saucy, or a coldly-scornful answer, she looked up; but, iu spite of herself, her cheeks glowed with blushes, aud her eyes fell before the kindling glance that met her own. James smiled to himself. “You have uot answered me,” he said, after a short pause. “I—I dou't know what you mean,” she stammered. “My father’s house is o|ieii to all.” The y oung man shook his head. “1 doubt that, but that is not the question. It is you I care for. Will you receive me! Do you say that I may come!” Dora wassileut. “Speak,” he said, impetuously “I have no fear or shame iu asking you to be my wife, heiress though you are. 1 want nothin* that is your father’s, uor would I take it; but I swear to you, that if you will ou!> have the coursge to ackucwl edge the love that I know has long been in your be rt, I will at no dis taut day place you iu a position far above tbe oue iu wb cb you now are.” Dora trembled, for his words awakened echoes iu her heart for which she could nowise account; but pride aud prejudice is strong— stronger than love, aud sbe ouly answered : “Here we are at Mrs. Fleming’s. Good-moruiug, Mr. Van Buskirk,” aud flitted sway up tbe walk, be fore be could stop her. Weeks passed. ***** Summer merged into Autumn, Autumn gave way to Winter, but uo greater changes took place arotiud ber than were developing themselves in tbe mental economy of our little Dora. From that mem orable Sunday, James bad never approached her. She saw him con stautly iu at tendance on other girls, aud especially with the squire’s daughter—whom, it was whispered, he was about to marry—and he always bowed gravely to ber, but uo more. How handsome he was! how dull aud insignificai t other youug men seemed beside bitn. What a good son be was! What a rising young maul With what manliness had he addressed her! Why did he uot s|>eak to her now ! Such were the thoughts that were coutiuually running in the too ish little girl’s head, ami that especially tormented ber, as she was on tier way to the wedding at Farmer Wentworth’s. Would sbe meet him there! It was the first frolic of the season, and her heart throb bed tbe idea. She stopped at tbe door, auff looked into thelarge “keeping room,” where was going on a most vigorous handshaking, and how-de-duii g. “How are ye f' said a voice dose in her ear. “Feel Skeery ! I do. Let’s go in together, and kinder take tbe edge off.” and Eph Bchen- ck’sarm was thrust out at tier, like a beut pump handle. “Lots of folks here,” pursued Eph. “Knew there would be. Folks allers likes to come here, they give such good feeds. Gracious ! Look at that air shirt, and them studs! Guess be thinks he’s some, now he’s goiu’ to marry the squire’s darter.” Dora looked up iu time to meet tbe ro guish glance of James, who had beard Eph’s remarks. “There comes the bride,” went on the in exorable. “Nice gal, sbe is. Should a made up to her myself, ouly I’d made up my mind for aome one else. They say she’s bad nine new dresses made. How would you like to be married, and have so mauy gowns!” Fortunately the ceremony here intervened, and Epb was obliged to be quiet, but scarcely was it over, when be commenced again. “That’s quick done, ain’t it, now! Nuthiu’ so dreadful, is it, after all! Come on. Everyone’s goiu’ up to kiss and shake bauds, and then they’ll go iu for supper.” Dora looked around ber in des peratiou. There was a small door open behind ber, which led, as sbe well kuew, into tbe kitchen, aud without stopping to reflect, sbe darted through it, and began to run toward home all tbe faster that sbe fancied sbe beard Eph behind her, till in her haste she stumbled over the root of a tree, and fell to the ground, spraining ber ankle severely. “How could you be so imprudent, and what made you run so !” said James’ voice, the moment after, as he stood by ber side. “Did yon think I would let you go home so! Are you hurt I” “I don’t know,” answered Dora, faintly. He stooped aud tried to raise her. Sbe groaned and shrank back. “I am afraid I can’t stand.” “Then I will carry you,” be said, promptly. “But 1 am so heavy, and it is so far.” “I wish it were twice tbe dis tance,” be whispered. Dora made no reply, but ber head rested quite confidingly on his shoulder, and her little hand lay against his cheek. He carried her iu silei oe, till they could see the lights of the deacon’s house. “Now, Dora, speak,’’ he burst out “You have had a long time to reflect. Quick Dora, for this is the last time I shall ask be made a ch an There aiu’t noth- » you. It was the faintest of all possible wliispeis that answered him; but il James’ face, when he reached the light, was any index of bis feel ings, it must have been a satis factory one. There was a wedding shortly alter. All the mammas with mar riageabc sous shook their heads, ami the deacon aud Mrs. Maxwell groaued whenever it was referred to, and said they’d done their best, but Dora was a headstrong girl, aud the will of Providence must be done. I here was none of tbe “liuen. anil china and p'ate,” went into the cot tage that James fitted up for hi.s bride, aud all tbe broad lauds and tine cattle remained lor the dowry of the other two girls. There were few visitois, either, at the cottage, aud of these, very few whoever failed to lament, iu a round-about way, over “Dora’s dreadful mis take,” as her family called it; but James only laughed, while his wife obstinately persisted iu glowing handsomer and merrier every day, and the last I heard of them he had fulfilled the promise he made ber on that bright June morning, and the deacou wasspi aking with exceeding respect and pride of bis son-in-law, Senator Van Buskird “Nym Crinkle’s” Reply to Bob Inger- soll’s Libels ou Christianity. (From Ibe Boston Advertiser.) Mr. A C. Wheeler, the New York journalist who writes over the uom de plume of “Nym » rinkle,” de livered his lecture ou “Skylarks and Daisies” to a fair audience iu the Boston Theatre last evening. The lecture is a reply to tbe one of iiobert G. Ingersoll on “Myths and Miracles,” aud tbe answer is. in form and substance, not that of a defender of tbe faith or a special cbait-piou of ChiLtiauity, but of a man of tbe world with a purely secular training. There was uo ex amination of the Christian evidence, but ot Mr. lugersoil himself. He did uot question Mr. Ingerso l’s sin cerity ; it was enough for the speak er that be w as incorrect. Tue lec turer quoted fiom “Myths and Miracles” passages calculated to show the shallowness of tbe author, and then satirized the latter’s seuti- uieutalisin. The mistakes aud com placent seT esteem it “the gentle man from llhuois,” were handled in a manner to provoke frequent ap plause, and the more serious por tions of the lecture were developed to showing the indestructibility of tbe religious idea in mau. The fol lowing is a good illustration of Mr. Wheeler’s style aud method of treat- meat: “Oue night, in tbe New Yoik Academy of Music, alter our friend (Mr. Ingersoll) had denounced re ligion, ridiculed reverence, aud per formed his spiritual clowu trick ou the meicy seat of every cue’s sen sibility, two rough-looking youug men were coming dowu the stairs, oue of whom accosted the other with— “‘Well, Bill, sweep of it, eh 1 iug left.' “•Well, I don’t know,” replied the other; ‘ I kiuder f el that the old woman’s there yet. She aiu’t lost her grip of me.” “I thought of this,” continued Mr. Wheeler, “for a long time after wards. It was the answer of senti ment that came over the golden wires of that boy’s memory aud loy alty. There was an old woman somewhere who had woven her ex ample and her love into the fibre of bis manhood, and he couldn’t quite get away from ber; and, some b( w, all the irreverence of that lecture seemed to strike at her. Aud that old woman sits iu the hearts of millions, answering this sentimentalism with ber mute but eloquent example. I have seen her everywhere, poor, careworn, sitting with her hands folded Hei work is done and sbe is waiting for eterni ty. I’ve heard the boy ou the bat tlefield call for her. I’ve beard the dy iug wretch iu the hospital mur mur with stiffening lips, as he pass ed out into the dark beyond, the name of mother. I’ve seen the wildest debauchee, iu the orgies of his sin, brought up and sobered as some wave from tbe past washed in upon his soul and brought with it the sweet aud holy recollection of that mother. Talk about dimples ; I kissed that witlured and wrinkled baud. Honest chivalry could uot do less. The very seams aud scars upon her face are beautiful, noble, memorial; I look into your watery but uncompiaiuiug eyes, and re member bow you (mured all tbe affluence of a mother’s beait upon your boys—bow you went often hungry aud thinly cl. d—how you clung to them with something like desperation—how many tears you shed that they never saw, how muuv wounds you bore that they never felt! Isalmeyou, Christian moth ers of America! You believe in God; poverty cannot dim the lustre of your devotion, nor adversity bend the Abie of your faith. Your example, your precepts, your char acter have passed into the geuera- tiou, aud when anything more dan gerous than sentimentalism assaults Christianity, millions of your sous, w ho may not have kept all the com mandments uor practiced a I your precepts, will rise up from one sea- washed limit of the Republic to tbe other to defend the altars y ou have lelt behiud.” lu closing Mr. Wheeler gave the following as the tribute ot a news paper mau to tbe spirit of Chris tiauit; : “During twenty odd years oteveutful toil in the great city I never found a depth of misery so deep, a poverty so rank, a crime so atrocious, a despair so Idack, that some bumble follower of that Master did net find it out Into all the holes aud corners of wretchedness w here vice and poverty like twin wolves, had hunted dowu their prey, the policeman and the reporter al ways found the hooded sister or the missionary ahead of them. They were the first to come. They were .the last to go. They stay ed and put up their supp icatiou when all else of earth bad forsaken tbe wretch. They followed him to the prison cell, aud they stood beside him ou the gallows, and they never forgot in all the obloquy of sin aud the cry of human vengeance the eternal brotherhood of mau. Aud they wanted no pay, aud they got no praise. They were doing that Master’s work. True, it was 1,800 y ears ago wbeu He called upon them and bid tbeui go out aud bind up the broken hearts aud dry tbe tears, and thus, with teuder touches of tone, to carry out His mission, audlu that time empires have falleu and races have become^ extinct, but these little streams have widened and deepened till they encircle out- globe like its atmosphere and sweet en myriads of arid hearts.” An Important Discovery. The most important discovery is that which brings the most good to tbe greatest number. Dr. King’s New Discovery for Consumption, Coughs, aud Colds, will preserve tbe health aud save life, and is a priceless boon to tbe afflicted. Not only does it positively cure, Con sumption, but Coughs, Colds, Broucbitis, Asthma, Hoarseness, and all affections of the Throat, Chest, and Lungs, yield at once to its wonderful curative wowers. It you doubt this, get a Trial Bottle Free, at Wtllcox & Co’s., Drug Store. When natural flowers are worn, a single long stemmed large flower is chosen in preference to those small bunches formerly iu nse. Bucklen’s Arnica Halve. The beat Salve iu the world for Cuta, Bruises, Ulcers, Salt Kbeum, Fever Sores, Tetter, Gbapped Hands, Chilblains, Corns, and all Skin Eruptions, aud positively cures Piles, or no pay required, it is guaranteed to give perfect satis faction, or money refunded. Price 25 cents per box. For sale by Will- cox & Uo. Free Tuition ami the S. C. College. A REPLY TO OBJECTIONS. L'V. J, Alexander iu Baptint Courier ] In my previous article I consid ered the objection to the existence of the State College. When that objection shall bare l>eeu formula ted by a statement of its grounds, I shall return to tbe consideration of it. In tbe present article I shall examine some of tbe objections to the free-tuition policy of the State College. 1. It is objected that such a poli cy is unjust. “It is unjust,” it is urged, “to tax people to supp irtau iuKtitutton which they do uot want, aud many people do not want tbe South Carolina College. There are many who prefer to send their sous to a denominational college, w ho will never send them to the State College ; to force such to pay their money to support the State College when they will never derive any advantage fiom it, aud when it is all they can do to educate their sons at the college of their choice, is not ouly unjust, but grossly un just.” This ejection, it valid, is fatal. The State mus; not be unjust to her citizens. The chief function of governinsut is to administer justice; to become an agent ot injustice is to violate its very nature But tbe objection is uot valid It proves entirety too much. It avails just as much against tbe common schools as it dims against tbe State College. Theie are many who are opposed to her common schools— many who derive no personnl ad vantage from them, and complain that, they are taxed to support them. Ought the State therefore to do away with her free schools? 'I'liere are many who are opposed to the exemption of church property from taxati< n ; if church property were taxed, their own tax would be less. Ought tbe State therefore to tax church property ! There is hard ly a single internal improvement which the State undertakes, to which there are not numerous objec tions. The wrangliugs iu our Leg islature over such measures are sufficient evidence of this Now, on the principle that it is unjust for the State to tax meu to sup|>ort a policy which they do uot approve, either every such policy weuld have to be abandoned altogether, or it would have to be supported by those only who approve it. Tbe absurdity of either alternative is too transparent to be demonstra ted. An objection grounded ou a principle which, wbeu pushed to its logical consequences, lands oue iu such palpable absurdities, is there by shown to lie entirely lutile. Either it must be shown that the objection to the free tuition policy ot the (Rate College is tonuded ou a different principle from that which underlies ttie objections to tree common schools aud to any inter nal impiovemeuLs which the State undertakes,orit is utterly worthless. I will thank any one to show that a different principle is involved. It cannot be shown. The charge of injustice, therefore, is oue which can have force ouly with those who are either incapable of making im portant aud obvious distinctions, or whose opposition to the State College makes them ready to be lieve anything urged against it, however absurd. 2. Closely connected with the above objection is tbe furtbei one tbat tbe people are taxed so heavily to support this tr<-e tuition policy. It is said that if the students of the State College were stquiied to pay tuition, a heavy load would be at once lilted from the shoulders ot the already burdened tax payer. It is difficult to treat this objec tion with respect; yet 1 st all try to discuss it as if it were worthy of res|iect Will the reader believe me wbeu 1 inform him that the cost of main taining tbe free-tnition feature of the State College is, for tbe aver age voter, about five cents ? Aud yet tbe truth ot this statement eau be demonstrated. Here is tbe de monstration : To maintain tbe free tuition fea ture ot its College costs tne State, at tbs largest estimate, about 310,- 000. This supposes that there will be 200 students aud a charge of $50 tor tuition, As a matter of fact, however, of the 200 students now iu attendance, at least 30 or 40 would tie unable to attend if they had to pay a tuition fee of 350. But 1 wish to give the objector all the advantage, and so I put tbe esti mate at 910.000. Now, there are about 200.000 voters in tbe State, aud, while, every voter does i.ot pay tax, yet, there are many who do pay taxes who are uot voters So that we may safely say tbat this $10,000 is paid by about 200,000 tax payers, which gives ao average of five cents apiece. Five ceuts saved to each tax-pay er by abolishing free tuition Id the State College ! Half tbe price of a good cigar!! Half the price of a drink of mean whts key I!! Aud yet, gentle reader, you will very likely be called upon to go to the polls with coat off and sleeves rolled up, resolved to roll from your aching shoulders the on erous sum of five cents! Take care that you do uot *mofc up twice that amount ou your way to the polls, and drink up four times that amount while there. Why has this argument, so utter ly contemptible, any force with the People ! The answer is uot far to seek. The people do feel their tax es heavily ; and 810.000 sounds, in the mass, like a large sum. Aud so, in the mass, it is ; but distribu ted over the State it dwindles dowu to five ceuts for each tax payer. No, the burden ot your tax is not made perceptibly heavier by the maiutaiiiauoe of free tuition in the State College, and he who endeav or* to make you believe tbat it is would be brought to confusion if he were required to tell you exactly how much you have to pay to main tain free tuition in the State Col- lege. Demand that the answer be given in exactly mathematical terms and not in the vague lau- guaae of political rhetoric, and you will find that the mountain has groaued to bring forth a mouse, and that a regiment has been turn ed out to catch a mule! Observe tbat I am here dealing exclusively with tbe objection to free tuition, and not with the ob jection to the existence of the Col lege. The objectors with whom I am at present dealing say that they arc friends of the College aud are in favor of a liberal appropriation for its support. So tbat wbeu they speak of the heavy tax required to make tuition free, they can he speaking of only the tuition fees Tiny are preaching against the heavy burden of fire emits; while those who oppose the existence of the College are doing a much gran der thing-lAey are preachng against ten cents! 3. A third objection to free tui tiou is that it is injurious to the young men to whom it is given. To help young meu, it is urged, detracts from tbeir manliness aud independence, and tends to form the habit ot expecting help from others rather than depending on oneself. I am not the man to deny that there is some force iu this objection; but let us see bow much force there is iu the present ease. The most objectionable form of beneficiary education is tbat which pays not only the student’s tuition, but his board as well. Oar theological seminaries are the greatest sinners iu this res|>eet. Ouly a lew days ago I saw this statement in The Independent: “The Rochester Theo logical Seminary has 150 students. Of these the New York Baptist Union, fir ministerial education, which has charge o! tne Bemiuary, is asked to assist 121. at a cost of 312,500” As no tuition is clr'rged, over $100 is here given to each stu dent assiste 1 for the purpose of pay ing his board; and this help, ob serve, is given to about seveu- eightlis of tbe eutire number. Bucb facts seem to imply, eilber tbat we are mainly sending paupers into tbe ministry, or else that theological seminaries are carrying beneficiary aid too far. A young man ought uot to lie permitted to go to college or seminary without some expense. Tbe expense is a sifter. Those who are not willing to struggle against difficulties and incur expense to ob taiu an education will make very little use of it when it is obtained. Tbe struggle with difficulty is itself a valuable part ot educatiou. But the difficulties ought uot to be in surmountable, Tbe student of the South Carolina College has uo such wholesale beneficiary aid as our theological semmaries give. Ouly bis tuitiou is remitted. Tbe board which he has to pay is difficulty enough in his way to test his man hood aud show whether or not he is worthy of an education If a tui tion fee of $50 were charged, a con siderable number of our present students would be deprived of high er educatiou altogether. The difli cutty would be made insurmouuta- ble His college course of four years would cost him just 1200 more than it does at present, and $200 with a poor youug mau is a large sura. So much for tht objection in it self. Let me add tbat it comes with a bad grace from tbe friends of Furman University. Did they not offer free tuitiou for several years to all who would come? Did tbejr not proclaim free tuitiou to be a blessiug which Furmau University alone, of sil the colleges of tbe Btate, was offering? Was free tuitiou a blessing when given by Furman University, aud does it become a curse wbeu given by tbe State ! There is a constant warfare being waged between tbe various species of tbe animal kingdom. Think of the borribleuess of an army of worms storming the citidel of life. A dose of Sbrioer’s Indian Vermi fuge will destroy them. Every day adds new and exquis* ite designs iu gauze fans, and some reach a fabulous price. High dog collars of velvet are noiversally worn, but there ie ud limit- either iu color or design. job w\mm, Ourjob lUpirtmeot Uauppljed with every facility necessary to enablp us to compoto both as to price qndqtpdjty pf pork, with evt^ Ibpse pf the cities, apd we gtiprsotos satis, faction in every particiRarpr charge petbing for opr work. Wt are qlways prsparod is fill orders al sjiPrt notice for Blanks, Bij| Heads, Letter Heads. Cards, hand Lilj} Posters, Circulars, Pamphlets. Ac. 4)1 job work must be pahj fpr Cash on Delivery. J. 1 -JLX .. J . .. L L IJif “It is asiouishittg tu note tbe rapidly increasing demand for Hughey Tonic- The sale of oue bottle insures a large demand. It is the best medicine I handle. I recommend it to all who have Chills aud Fever." K.J Madden, Uaujam cus, Miss. Johnny’s Calculations. Johnny was pouring over bis mental arithmetic. It was a uew study to him, aud he found it inter* esttng. When Johnn> undertook anything he went about it with heart, bead and hand. He sat ou bia high stool at tbe table, while bis father sat just op. posite. He was such a tiny fellow, scarcely large enough to bold the book, you would tbiuk, much less to study and calculate. But he could do both, as you shall see. Johnny’s father had been speak ing to hia mother, snd Johnny had been so intent iu hia book that h« had uot heard a word ; but as he leaned back in bia high chair to rest a moment he heard his father say t “Dean got beastly drunk at the club last night; drank ten glasses ot wine ; 1 was dismasted with tbe fellow.” Johnny looked up with bright eyes. “How many did you drink f” “I drank one, my son,” said the father, smiling down upon Ids little boy. “Then you were only oue-teuth drunk,” said the hoy reflectively. “John!”cried bis parent sternly in a breath. But Jobuuy coutiuued with a studious air: “Why. yes; il ten glagses of wins makes a man beastly drunk, one glass will make him one tenth part drunk, aud—” “There, there !” interrupted the father, biting his lips to hide ths smile that would come; “I guess it’s bed time for you, and we’ll have no more arithmetic to-night.” So Johnny was tucked away iu bed and went sound asleep, turning tbe problem over aud over to see if be was wrong And just before he lost himself in slumber be had thought: “Oue thing is sure; if Dean hadn’t taken tbe ot.e glass he would not have been drunk. So it is ibe safest way never to take oue, aud I never will." And tbe next thing he was snoring, while John ny’s father was thinking: “There’s something iu Johnny’s calculation, after all. It is uot safe to take oue glass, and I will ask Dean to sign a total-abstinence pledge with me to morrow.” And he did so, aud they both kept it.—I'emperance Banner. An End to Bone -Scraping. Edward Shepherd, of Harrisburg, 111., says: “Having received so much benefit from Electric Bitters, 1 feel it my duty to let suffering humanity know it. Have bad a running sore on my leg for eight years; my doctors told me I would have to have the bone sora|>ed or leg amputated. 1 used, instead, three bottles ot Electric Bitters and seven boxes Buckleu’s Arnica Halve, aud my leg is uow sound aud well.” Electric Bitters ars sold at fifty ceuts a bottle, aud Buckleu’s Arnica Salve at 25c tier box by Willeox & Uo. Fashion Notes. Black watered ribbon sashes are very stylish. Tinsel ribbons are much used on ball dresses. Embroidered shoes and slippers are much worn. Gold embroidery is fashionable for dress bonnets. Braiding will retain its place as a favorite trimmiug. Undressed kids hold their own agaiust every other variety. Canvass with lace border for trimming is oue of the novelties. Dressed kids are shown with elaborately embroidered banks. Satin Khedive, plain and em broidered, is used for eveuing toi lets. Gold and silver threads glisten in dress fabrics aud in their trim mings Velvet is largely used for trim miug wool aud silk as well as cot ton dresses. Pearl embroidered float* in sil tbe evening colors have lace to cor respond. Tbe eamel’s-hnir jauke a are love, ly to look at and to wear, bat rath er expensive. Norfolk bodices will be again worn, as well as prstilliou bodices which are short on tbe hips The uew short sleeves oousirt of small puffs or narrow double rnch- ings of tulle, oroeaiug the t“p of tho arm. Barege la one of the leading fab- rics for apring wear and ia shown iu finely woven and In open work I see effects. Bed velvet dresses have black watered silk sashes on the left aide, and the bodices are trimmed with jet passementerie#.