The Darlington news. (Darlington, S.C.) 1875-1909, March 09, 1893, Image 3
...II
CHAPTER XIV.
TUI LAB WITH THE SILVER BUTTON.
THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL.
Drawing a knife from hie rage he equal-
ted back and grinned at me.
The Rose of Mall, which I had got
upon, was nigged and trackless, being
all bog and brier and big stone. There
may be roads for them that know that
country well; but for my part I had no
better guide than my own nose, and no
other landmark than Ben More.
1 aimed as well as I could for a smoke
I had seen, and with all my great weari
ness and difficulty of the way came
upon the house at the bottom of a little
hollow about five or six at night. It was
low and longish, roofed with turf and
built of unmortared stones, and on a
mound in front of it an old man sat
smoking his pipe in the sun.
With what little English he had he
gave me to understand that my ship-
mates had got safe ashore, and had
broken bread in that very house the day
afte-.
"Was there one,” I asked, “dressed
like a gentleman?”
He said they all wore rough great
coats; but, to be sure, the first of them,
the one that came alone, wore breeches
and stockings, while the rest had sailors'
trousers.
“Ah,” said 1, “and he would have a
feathered hat?”
He told me no; that he was bare headed
like myself.
At first 1 thought Alan might have
lost his hat, and then the rain came in
my mind, and I judged it more likely
he had it out of harm's way under his
greatcoat. This set me smiling, partly
because my friend was safe, partly to
think of his vanity in dress.
And then the old gentleman clapped
his hand to his brow and cried out that
I must be the lad with the silver button.
“Why, yes,” said I in some wonder.
“Well, then,” said the old gentleman,
“I have a word for you that you are to
follow your friend to his country by
Torosay.”
He then asked me how I had fared,
and 1 told hiru my tale. A south coun
tryman would certainly have laughed, ■
but this old gentleman (I call him so be
cause of his manners, for his clothes
were dropping off his back) heard me
all through with notiiing but gravity
and pity. When I had done he took me
by the hand, led me into his hut (it was
no better) and presented me before his
wife, as if she had been the queen and
I a duke.
The good woman set oat bread before
me and a cold grouse, patting my shoul
der and smiling to me all the time, for
she had no English, and the old gentle
man, not to be behind, brewed me a
strong punch out of their country spirit
All the while I was eating, and after that,
when I was drinking the punch, 1 could
scarce come to believe in my good for
tune, and the house, though it was
thick with the peat smoke and full of
holes as a colander, seemed like a pal
ace.
The punch threw me in a strong sweat
and a deep slumber. The good people
let me lie, and it was near noon of the
next day before I took the road, my
throat already easier and my spirits
quite restored by good fare and good
news.
Thought I to myself, “If these are the
wild highlanders I could wish my own
folk wilder.”
I not only started late, but I must
have wandered nearly half the time.
True, I met plenty of people, grubbing
in little miserable fields that would not
keep a cat, or herding little kine about
the bigness of asses. The highland
dress being forbidden by law since the
rebellion, and the people condemned to
the lowland habit, which they much
disliked, it was strange to see the va-
nety of their array. Some went bare,
only for a hanging cloak or greatcoat,
and carried their trousers on their backs
like a useless burden; some had made
an imitation of the tartan with little
particolored stripes, patched together
like an old wife's quilt; others again
still wore the highland philibeg, but by
putting a few stitches between the legs
transformed it into a pair of trousers
like a Dutchman’s. All those make
shifts were condemned and punished,
for the law was harshly applied, in
hopes to break up the clan spirit; but in
that out of the way sea bound isle
there were few to make remarks and
fewer to tell tales.
At last, about eight at night, and al
ready very weary, I came to a lone
house, where 1 asked admittance and
was refused, until I bethought me of the
power of money in so poor a country,
and held up one of my guineas in my
finger and thumb. Thereupon the man
of the house, who had hitherto pre
tended to have no English, and driven
me from his door by signals, suddenly
began to speak as clearly as was need
ful, and agreed for five shillings to give
me a night's lodging and guide me the
next day to Torosay.
I slept uneasily that night, fearing 1
should be robbed; but I might have
spared myself the pain, for my host was
no robber, only miserably poor and a
great cheat. He was not alone in his
poverty, for the next morning we must
go about five miles to the house of what
he called a rich man to have one of my
guineas changed.
This was perhaps a rich man ijrMull;
he would have scarce been thought so
iti the south, for it took all he had; the
whole house was turned upside down
and a neighbor brought under contrtbu-
ttua baton be could scrape together
twenty shillings m silver. The odd 1
shilling he kept for himself, protesting
he could ill afford to have so great ^ 1
sum of money lying “locked up.” For
all that, he was very courteous and well
spoken, made us both sit down with his
family to dinner and brewed punch in a
fine china bowl, over which my rascal
guide grew so merry that he refused to
start.
I was for getting angry, and appealed
to the rich man (Hector Maclean was
his name) who had been a witness *o
our bargain and to my payment of the |
five shillings. But Maclean had taken
his share of the punch, and vowed that
no gentleman should leave his table
after the bowl was brewed; so there
was nothing for it but to sit and hear
J acobite toasts and Qaelic songs till all
were tipsy and staggered off to the bed
or the barn for their night’s rest.
Next day (the fourth of my travels)
we were up before five upon the clock,
but my rascal guide got to the bottle
at once, and it was three hours before 1
had him clear of the hduse, and then,
as yon shall hear, only for a worse dis
appointment.
As long as we went down a heathery
valley that lay before Mr. Maclean's
house, all went well; only my guide
looked constantly over his shoulder, and
when I asked him the cause only
grinned at me. No sooner, however,
had we crossed the back of a hill, and
got out of sight of the back windows,
than he told me Torosay lay right in
front, and that a hilltop (which he
pointed out) was my best landmark.
“1 care very little for that,” said I, 1
“since you are going with me.”
The impudent cheat answered me in i
the Oaelic that he had no English.
“My fine fellow,” I said, “I know very j
well your English comes and goes. Tell
me what will bring it back? Is it more
money you wish?''
“Five shillings mair," said he, “and
hersel’ will bring ye there.”
I reflected awhile and then offered him
two, which he accepted greedily and in
sisted on having in his hands at once—
“for luck,” as he said, but I think it was
rather for my misfortune,
The two shillings carried him not
quite as many miles, at the end of which
distance he sat down upon the wayside
and took off his brogues from his feet,
like a man about to rest.
1 was now redhot. “Ha!" said I, “have
you no more English?”
He said impudently, “No.”
At that I boiled over and lifted my
hand to strike him, and he, drawing a
knife from his rags, squatted back and
grinned at me like a wildcat. At that,
forgetting everything but my anger, I
ran in upon him, put aside his knife
with my left and struck him in the
mouth with my right. I was a strong
lad and very angry, and he but a little
man, and he went down before me
heavily. By good luck his knife flew
jut of his hand as he fell.
I picked up both that and his brogues,
wished him a good morning and set off
npon my way, leaving him barefoot and
disarmed. I chuckled to myself as I
went, being sure I was done with that
rogue for a variety of reasons. First,
he knew he could have no more of my
money; next, the brogues were worth in
that country only a a few pence, and
lastly the knife, which was really a
dagger, it was against the law for him
to carry.
In about half an hour I overtook a
great, ragged man, moving pretty fast,
but feeling before him with a staff. He
was quite blind, and he told me he was
a catechist, which should have put me
at my ease. But his face went against
me; it seemed dark and dangerous and
secret, and presently, as we began to go
on alongside, I saw the steel butt of a
pistol sticking from under the flap of
his coat pocket To carry such a thing
meant a fine of fifteen pounds sterling
upon a first offense and transportation
to the colonies upon a second. Nor
could I quite see why a religious teacher
should go armed, or what a blind man
could be doing with a pistol.
I told him about my guide, for I was
proud of what I had done and my vanity
for once got the heels of my prudence.
At the mention of the five shillings he
cried out so loud that I made up my
mind I should say nothing of the other
two, and was glad he could not see my
blushes.
“Was it too much?” I asked, a little
faltering.
“Too much!" cries he. "Why, I will
guide you to Torosay myself for a dram
of brandy, and give you the great
pleasure of my company (me that is a
man of some learning) in the bargain.”
I said I did not see how a blind man
could be a guide, but at that he laughed
aloud and said his stick was eyes enough
for an eagle.
“In the Isle of Mull at least,” says he,
“where I knew every stone and heather
bush by mark of head. “See now," he
said, striking right and left as if to make
sure, “down there a burn is running,
and at the head of it there stands a bit
of a small hill with a stone cocked npon
the top of that, and it's hard at the foot
of the hill that the way runs by to Toro
say, and the way here being for droves
is plainly trodden and will show grassy
through the heather.”
I had to own he was right ifl every
feature, and told my wonder.
“Ha,"sayshe,“that’snothing. Would
ye believe me now, that before the act
came out and when there were weapons
in this country I could shoot? Aye,
could I!” cries he, and then with a leer,
“If ye had such a thing as a pistol here
to try with, I would show you how it’s
done.”
I told him I had nothing o.‘ the sort,
and gave him a wider berth. If be had
known, his pistol stuck at that time
quite plainly out of his pocket, and 1
could see the sun twinkle on the steel of
the butt. But by the better luck for
me he knew nothing; thought all was
covered and lied on in the dark.
He then began to question me cun
ningly—where I came from, whether 1
v as rich, whether I could change a five
•hilling piece for him (which ho declared
he had at that moment in his sporran),
I and all the «!"»« he keot edimur up to
me and 1 nvouting Mm. Wa were now
upon a sort of green cattle track which
crossed the bills toward Torosay, and
we kept changing sides upon that like
dancers in a reel. I had so plainly the
upper hand that my spirits arose, and
indeed 1 took a pleasnr ' in this game of
blind man s buff; but the catechist grew
angrier and angrier, and at last began
to swear in Oaelic and to strike for my
legs with his staff.
Then 1 told him that, sure enough, 1
had a pistol in my pocket as well us he,
and if he did not strike across the hill
due south I would even blow his brains
out.
He became at once very polite, and
after trying to soften me for some time,
but quite in vain, he cursed me once
more in Gaelic and took himself off.
Then 1 struck on again for Torosay.
At Torosay, on the Sound of Mull and
looking over to the mainland of Morven.
there was an inn with an innkeeper, wno
was a Maclean it appeared of a very
high family, for to keep an inn is thought
even more genteel in the highlands than
it is with us, perhaps as partaking of
hospitality, or perhaps because the trade
is idle and drunken. He spoke good
English, and finding me to be something
of a scholar, tried me first in French,
where he easily beat me, and then in
Latin, in which 1 don't know which of
us did best. This pleasant rivalry put
us at onq^on friendly terms, and I sat
up and drank punch with him (or, to be
more correct, sat up and watched him
drink it) until he was so tipsy that he
wept upon my shoulder.
I tried him, as if by accident, with a
sight of Alan's button, but it was plain
he had . ver seen or heard of it. In
deed he bore some grudge against the
family and friends of Ardshiel, and be
tore he was drunk he read me a lam
poon in very good Latin, but with a
very ill meaning, which he had made in
elegiac verses upon a person of that
house.
When I told him of my catechist he
shook his head and said that 1 was
lucky to have got clear off. “That is a
very dangerous man,” he said-; “Duncan
Mackiegh is his name; he can shoot by
the ear at several yards, and has been
often accused of highway robberies and
once of murder.”
“The cream of it is,” says I, “that he
called himself a catechist.”
“And why should he not?” says he,
“when that is what he is? It was Mac-
lean, of Duart, gave it to him because
he was blind. But perhaps it was a
peety,” says my host, “for ho is always
on the road, going from one place to an
other to hear the young fol k say their
religion; and doubtless that is a great
temptation to the poor man."
At last when my landlord could
drink no more he showed me to a bed,
and I lay down in very good spirits, hav
ing traveled the greater part of that
big and crooked Island of Mull, from
Earraid to Torosay, fifty miles as the
crow flies, and with my wanderings
much nearer a hundred, in four days
and with little fatigue. Indeed, I was
by far in better heart and health of
body at the end of that long tramp than
I had been at the beginning.
CHAPTER XV.
THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON.
-ACROSS MORVEN. '
There is a regular ferry from Torosay
to Kinlochaline on the mainland. Both
shores of the sound are in the country
of the strong clan of the Macleans, and
the people that passed the ferry with me
were almost all of that clan. The skip
per of the boat on the other hand was
called Neil Roy Macrob, and since Mac-
rob was one of the names of Alan's
clansmen and Alan himself had sent me
to that ferry, I was eager to come to
private speech of Neil Roy.
In the crowded boat this was of course
impossible, and the passage was a very
slow affair. There was no wind, and as
the boat was wretchedly equipped we
could pull but two oars on one side and
one on the other. The men gave way.
however, with a good will, the passe*
gers taking spells to help them and the
whole company giving the time in Gaelic
boat songs. And what with the songs,
and the sea air; and the good nature and
spirit of all concerned, and the bright
weather, tho - passage was a pretty thing
to have seen.
But there was one melancholy part.
In the mouth of Loch Aline we found a
great seagoing ship at anchor, and this
I supposed at first to be one of the king’s
cruisers, which were kept along the
coast both summer and winter to pre
vent communication with the French.
As we got a little nearer it became plain
she was a ship of merchandise, and what
still more puzzled me, not only her decks,
but the sea beach also, were quite black
with people, and skiffs were continually
plying to and fro between them. Yet
nearer, and there began to come to our
ears a great sound of mourning, the peo
ple on board and those on the shore cry
ing and lamenting one to another so as
to pierce the heart.
TJ
/ overtook a little stout, solemn twin.
Then I understood this was an emi
grant ship bound for the American colo
nies.
We put the ferryboat alongside and
the exiles leaned over the bulwarks,
weeping and reaching out their hands
to my fellow passengers, among whom
they counted some near friends. How
long this might have gone on I do not
know, for they seemed to have no sense
of time; but at last the captain of the
ship, who seemed near beside himself
(and no great wonder) in the midst of
this crying and confusion, came to the
side and begged us to depart.
Thereupon Neil sheered off, and the
chief singer in our boat struck into a
melancholy air, which was presently
taken up both by the emigrants and
their friends ut«n the beach, so that it
sounded from all sides like a lament for
the dying. I saw the tears run down
the cheeks of the men and women in the
boat, even as they bent at the oars, and
the circumstances, and the music of the
song (which is one called “Lochaber No
Wura'I ware hiirhlv affectiiur even to
myself.
At Kinlochaline I got Neil Roy upon
one side on the beach, and said 1 made
sure he was one of Appiu's men.
“And what for no?" said he.
“I am seeking somebody,” said I; “and
it comes in my mind that you will have
news of him. Alan Breck Stewart is
his name.” And very foolishly inste- d
of showing him the button I sought
to pass a shilling in his hand.
At this he drew back. “1 am very
much affronted,” he said; “and this is
not the way that one sheutleman should
behave to another at all. The man you
ask for is in France: but if he was in
my sporran." says he, “and your belly
full of shillings. I would not hurt a hair
upon his body.”
I saw 1 hitd gone the wrong way to
work, and without wasting time upon
apologies, showed him the button lying
in the hollow of my palm.
“Aweel, aweel,” said Neil, “and 1
think ye might have lie gun with that
end of the stick whatever! But if ve
are the lad with the silver button all is
well, and I have the word to see that ye
come safe. But if ye will pardon me to
speak plainly,” says he, “there is a name
that you should never take into your
mouth, and that is the name of Alan
Breck, and there is a thing that ye
would never do, and that is to offer your
dirty money to a hieland shentleman.”
It was not very easy to apologize, for
I could scarce tell him (what was the
truth) that I had never dreamed he
would set up to lie a gentleman until
he told me so. Neil on his part had
no wish to prolong his dealings with
me, only to fulfill his orders and
be done with it, and he made
haste to give me my route. This was
to lie the night in Kinlochaline in the
public inn; to cross Morven the next
day to Ardgour and lie the night in the
house of one John of the Claymore,
who w r as warned that I might come;
the third day, to be set across one loch
at Corran and another at Balachnlish,
and then ask my way to the house of
James of the Glens at Aucharn in
Duror of Appin. There was a good deal
of ferrying, as you hear, the sea in all
this part running deep into the moun
tains and winding about their roots. It
I makes the country strong to hold and
difficult to travel, but full of pi - digious
j wild and dreadful prospects.
I had some other advice from Neil—to
speak lyith no one by the way, to avoid
Whigs, Campbells and the “red sol
diers;” to leave the road and lie in a
bush if I saw any of the latter coming,
“for it was never chance to meet in with
them,” and in brief to conduct myself
like a robber or a Jacobite agent, as per
haps Neil thought me.
The inn at Kinlochaline was the most
beggarly, vile place that ever pigs were
etyed in, full of smoke, vermin and
silent highlanders. I was not only dis
contented with my lodging, but with
myself for my mismanagement of Neil,
! ami thought I could hardly be worse off.
Early in tny next day's journey I over
took a little stout, solemn man walking
very slowly, with his toes turned out.
sometimes reading in a book and some
times marking the place with his finger,
and dressed decently and plainly in
something of a clerical style.
This I found to be another catechist,
but of a different order from the blind
man of Mull, being indeed one of those
sent out by the Edinburgh Society for
Propagating Christian Knowledge to
evangelize the more savage places of the
highlands. His name was Henderland.
He spoke with the broad south country
tongue, which I was beginning to weary
for the sound of, and besides common
countryship we soon found we had a
more particular bond of interest, for my
good friend, the minister of Essendeau.
had translated into the Gaelic in his by-
time a number of hymns and pious
books which Henderland used in his
work and held in great esteem. Indeed
it was one of these he was carrying and
reading when we met.
We fell in company at once, our ways
lying together as far as to Kingairlocb
As we went he stopped and spoke with
all the wayfarers and workers that we
met or passed, and though of course I
could not tell what they discoursed
about, yet I judged Mr. Henderland
must be well liked in the countryside,
for I observed many of them to bring
out their mulls and share a pinch of
snuff with him.
1 told him as far in my affairs as 1
judged wise—as far, that is, as they
were none of Alan's—and gave Balachu-
lish as the place I was traveling to. to
meet a friend, for 1 thought Aucharn. or
even Duror, would be too particular and
mivht nut him on the scent.
On bis part, be told me much of his
work and the people he worked among,
the hiding priests and Jacobites, the dis
arming act, the dress and many other
curiosities of the time and place. He
seemed moderate, blaming parliament
in several points, and especially because
they had framed the act more severely
against those who wore the dress than
against those who carried weapons.
This moderation put it in my mind to
question him of the Red Fox and the
Appin tenants—questions which, 1
thought, would seem natural enough in
the mouth of one traveling to that coun-
tie said it was a bad business. “It's
wonderful,” said he, “where the tenants
find the money, for their life is mere
starvation. (Ye don't carry such a
thing as snuff, do ye, Mr. Balfour? No.
Well, I’m better wanting it.) But these ;
tenants, as I was saying, are doubtless I
partly driven to it. James Stewart in
Duror (that’s him they call James of the
Glens) is half brother to Ardshiel, the
captain of the clan, and he is a man
much looked up to and drives very bard.
And then there's one they call Alan
Breck”
“Ah,” cried 1, “what of him?”
“What of the wind that bloweth
where it listeth?” said Henderland.
“He’s here and awa, here toil ay and
gone tomorrow—a fair heather cat. He
might be glawering at the two of us out
of yon whinbush, and I would nae won
der! Ye’ll nae carry such a thing as
snuff, will yer
I told him no, and that he had asked
the same thing more than once.
. “It s highly possible,” said he, sigh
ing. “But it seems strange ye Should
nae carry it. However, as I was saying,
this Alan Breck is a bold, desperate cus
tomer, and well kent to be Je.mes' right
hand. His life is forfeit already; he
would boggle at naething, and maybe
if a tenant body was to hang back he
would get a dirk in his wame.”
“You make a poor story of it all, Mr.
Henderland,” said 1. “If it is all fear
upon both sides I care to bear no more
of it."
“Nae,” said Mr. Henderland, “but
there's love, too, and self denial that
: sayuld pftt Ufie iilc« Vt ifiS ftBj ttSIS
sname. There s someimng nne uumu
it; no perhaps Christian, but humanly
fine. Even Alan Breck, by all that I
hear, is a chield to be respected. There's
many a lying sneck-draw sits close in
kirk in our part of the country, and
stands well in the world's eye, and may
be he is a far worse man, Mr. Balfour,
than yon misguided shedder of man’s
blood. Aye, aye, we might take a lesson
by them. Ye’ll perhaps think I’ve been
too long in the hiclande?” he added,
smiling to me.
I told him not at all; that I had seen
much to admire among the highland
ers; and if he came to that, Mr. Camp
bell himself was a highlander.
“Aye,” said he, "that's true, ft’s a
fine blood.”
"And what is the king's agent about?”
I asked.
“Colin Campbell?” says Henderland.
“Putting his head in a bees’ bykeP
“He is to turn the tenants out by
force, I hear,” said I.
“Yes,” says he, “but the business has
gone back and forth, as folk say. First,
James of the Glens rode to Edinburgh
and got some lawyer (a Stewart, nae
doubt—they all hing together like bats
in a steeple) and had the proceedings
stayed. And then Colin Campbell cam'
in again, and had the upper hand before
the barons of exchequer. And now they
tell me the first of the tenants are to flit
tomorrow. It's to begin at Duror under
James’ very window, which does nae
seem wise by my humble way of it."
“Do you think they’ll fight'?" I asked.
“Well," says Henderland, “they’re
disarmed—or supposed to be—for there’s
still a good deal of cold iron lying by in
quiet places. And then Colin Campbell
has the sogers coming. But for all that,
if 1 was his lady wife, I would nae be
well pleased till I got him home again.
They’re queer customers, the Appin
Stewarts.”
I asked if they were worse than their
neighbors.
"No they," said he. “And that's the
worst part of it. For if Colin Roy can
get his business done in Appin, he has
it all to begin again in the next country,
which they call Mamore, and which is
one of the countries of the Camerons.
He's king’s factor upon both, and from
both he has to drive out the tenants;
and indeed, Mr. Balfour (to be open with
ye), it’s my belief that if he escapes the
one lot, he’ll get his death by the other.”
Bo we continued talking and walking
the great part of the day, until at
lust Mr. Henderland, after expressing
his delight in my company, and satis
faction at meeting with a friend of Mr.
Campbell’s (“whom,” says he, "I will
make bold to call that sweet singer of
our covenanted Zion”), proposed that 1
should make a short stage, and lie the
night in his house a little beyond King-
airloch. To say the truth, I was over
joyed, for 1 had no great desire for John
of the Claymore, and since my double
misadventure, first with the guide and
next with the gentleman skipper, I
stood in some fear of any highland
stranger. Accordingly we shook hands
npon the bargain and came in the after
noon to a small house standing alone by
the shore of the Linnhe loch. The sun
was already gone from the desert moun
tains of Ardgour upon the hither side,
but shown on those of Appin on the
farther, the loch lay as still as a lake,
only the gulls were crying round the
sides of it, and the whole place seemed
solemn and uncouth.
Before we went to bed he offered me
sixpence to help me on my way, out of a
scanty store he kept in the turf wall of
his house, at which excess of goodness 1
knew not what to do. But at last he
was so earnest with me that I thought
it the more mannerly part to let him
have his way, and so left him poorer
than myself.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
There’s Nothing Cheap About It.
Dr. Drummond’s Lightning
Remedy for Rheumatism is put
up in large bottles and the price
is five dollars a bottle. It cures
every time. All the cheap rem
edies put together are not worth
one bottle of Dr. Drummond’s
Lightning Remedy, and any
sufferer will bear witness to that
fact, and any druggist who has
sold it is ready and willing to
offer evidence. One bottle will
cure any ordinary case, and the
money will be returned if it
fails. Sent to any address pre
paid on receipt of price. Drum
mond Medicine Co., 48-50 Maid
en Lane, New York. Agents
wanted.
Professor Short—It is very im
polite, Bobby, to stretch in com
pany.
Bobby—It is, is it? Well,
what do you do when you have
to hang on a strap in the horse
cars ?—Yonkers Statesman.
Gentlemen would not use
“Blush of Roses” if it was a
{ aint or powder of course not.
t is clear as water, no sediment
to fill the pores of the skin. Its
mission is to heal, dense, and
purify the compLxion of every
imperfection, and insures every
lady and gentleman a clear
smooth complex on. Sold by
Dr. J. A Boyd, Price 75 cents.
Daughter—There is only one
thing more astonishing than
the readiness with which Ned
gave up tobacco when we be
came engaged.
Mother—What is that aston
ishing thing ?
Daughter—The rapidity with
which he took it up again after
we were married.—London Tit-
Bits.
tlectric Bitters.
This remedy is becoming s<
well known and to popular at
to need no special mention. All
who have used Electric Bitters
sing the same song of praise.—
A purer medicine does not exist
a id it is jjuarant* ed to do all
that is claimed. E ectric Bitters
will cure all diseases of the Liv
er and Kidneys, will remove
Pimples, Boils, Sait Rheum and
other affections caused by im
pure blood.—Will drive Malaria
from the system and prevent as
well as cure all Mi larial fevers.
—For cure of Headache, Con-
stipation and Indigestion try
Electric Bitters— Entire satis
faction guaranteed, or money
refunded.—Price 50 cts. and
$1.00 per bottle at JFillcox &
Co’s Drugstore.
She—What is the science of
palmistry I hear so much
about ?
He—The art of telling for
tunes by the hand.
She—Can you te 1 my fortune
by my hand ?
He—No, but ii I had your
hand I coyld tell n y own for
tune.— Vogue
From the Pine 1 Woods.
Of the North to the Ever
glades of the South, druggists
are besieged by people with
every shade of Rln umatism, in
quiring about Dr. Drummond’s
Remedy. “Will it cure me?”
And the drtiggist points to the
fact that the Dru nmond Medi
cine Co., 48-50 D aiden Lane
New York, offer a reward of
$500 for a case thei r remedy will
not cure That kind of answer
is satisfying, and the sufferer
planks down five dollars and
goes home and is cured. Not
only relieved ! but Cured.
Agents wanted.
A Sunday school teacher in
Lawrence, Kan., asked her class
of boys what a bo} should do to
go to heaven. No one answer
ed until a little Irh h boy at the
bottom of the clas;, held up his
hand.
“Well, sir, what must a boy
do to go to heaven ?” said the
teacher.
“He must die,” answered Pat
sy.—Lawrence World.
It Should Be in Every House.
J. B. Wilson, 371 Clay St.,
Sharpsburg, Pa., says he will
not l>e without Dr. King’s New
Discovery for Consumption,
boughs and Colds, that it cured
his wife who was threatened
with Pneumonia after an at
tack of “La Grippe,” when var
ious other remedies and several
physicians had done her no good.
Robert Barber, of Cooksport,
Pa., claims Dr. King’s New Dis
covery has done him more good
than anything he ever used for
Lung Trouble. Nothing like it.
Try it. Free Trial Bottles at
Willcox & Co’s drug store.
Large bottles, 50c. and $1.00.
“How do you like my latest
picture ?” said one artist to an
other.
“First rate. It was very
clever of you to put the new
moon in.”
“Do you think so ?”
“Yes. It leaves no doubt as
to where the top of the picture
is.”—Washington Star.
When Baby was nick, we gare her Castorta.
When she waa a Child, she eriei 1 for Castorf*.
When she became Xus, she clung to Caatoria.
When she hud Children, she gat e them Cantoria,
C HARLESTON. SUMTER AND
NORTHERN RAILROAD
CHARLES E. KIMBALL Receiver.
In Effect Jan. 16,
Bucklen’s Arniua Salve.
The Best Salve in the world
for Cuts, Bruises, Sores. Ulcers,
Salt Rheum, Fever Sores, Tetter,
Chapped Hands Chilblains,
Corns, and all Ski i Eruptions,
and positively cures Piles, or no
pay required. It i i guaranteed
to give perfect satisfaction, or
money refunded. Price 25 cents
per box. For sale at Willcox &
Co’s drugstore.
Desirable Lot For Sale.
WK offvr for sale the lot of the late
Mrs,. A. A. Baker in the Town of Dar
lington. PAUL WHIPPLE,
J. GREGG McCALL,
J. E. NETTLES,
Executors.
Ap 21—tf
Notice of Limited Partnership.
To all who It may concern: Notice
is hereby given that the undersigned
have formed a Limited Partnership ;
that the Name of Firn under which
such Partnership is to be conducted
is Edwards & Company. That the
general nature of the nusiness to be
transacted is a Genera' Merchandise
Business to be carried on at Darling
ton, South Carolina. Chat C. B. Ed
wards, and H. A. Edwards, who re
side at Darlington, Court House,
South Carolina, are th" General Part
ners ; and James L. Col er, who resides
at Hartsville, South Carolina, is the
Special Partner; and that the said
James L. Coker has c mtributed the
sum of Five Thousand Dollars as cap
ital to the common sU 'k ; and that
said Partnership is to commence on
the 30th. day of Janua 'J 1898, and is
to terminate on the let day of Janua
ry 1898
Dated this 30th day r f January One
Thousand Eight Hunbrtd and Nine
ty Three.
C. B. EDWARDS,
H. A. EDWARDS,
General.
JAS. L. COKER,
Special.
Feb. 2—St-
NORTH.
SOUTH.
21
i
2
22
AM.
AM.
A.M.
P.M,
• •••
6.50
Charleston
10.30
......
8.15
Preguall's
9.05
0.45
8.30
Sumter
12.50
1 20
8.48
1.00
Lamar
11.31
11 39
9.22
1.20
Syracuse
11.11
11.03
10.40
1.41
Darlington
10.46
10.29
11.15
2 05
Mont Clare
10 26
9 58
11.40
2.21
Robin's Neck
10.10
8.18
12.10
2.41
Mandeville
9 50
7.53
12.40
3 01
Bennettsville
9 80
7.23
8.50
Gibson
8.40
4.30
Hamlet
7.50
P.M.
P.M
P.M.
AM,
Close connection is made at Hamlet
for all points reached by or via the
Seaboard Air Line System ; at Ben-
uettsville for all points via <1. F. & Y.
V K R.
No. 2 does not take passengers south
of Sumter.
Nos. M and 22 do not run north of
Bennettsville.
n. .\V t.KILL, General Manager.
it l> and C. Si S. RAILROADS.
. In effect Jan. 2, 1893.
Is-ave Wt.lesboro
Bennett’s
2.01 p m
Morven's .
McFarland
Cheraw .
.. 4.00pu
Cash’s
Society Hill
Dove's
Floyd’s
. 6.00 p m
Darlington
6.25 p m
Palmetto
Arrive Florence
Leave Florence
Palmetto
Darlington
7.30 a m
Floyd's
7.55 a m
Dove's
Society Hill
Cash's
Cheraw
.. 10.00 a in
McFarland
. 11.45pm
Morven's
12.05 p m
Bennet* ’s
. 12.20 p m
Arrive Wadesboro
I-ocal Freight Train.
Leave Florence
Arrive Darlington
. 9.45 a in
Leave Darlington
Arrive Florence
A. F. RAVEN EL. President.
ORTH EASTERN RAILROAD.
Xm In effect Jan. 2,
1893.
SOUTH BOUND.
No. 15
l^iave Florence
.. 6 25 a,m
Ijmes
Arrive Charleaton
.. 9.44 a m
No. 27.
Leave Florence
Kingstree
. 11.50 p m
Lanes
.. 12.. earn
Arrive Charleston
. 2.19 am
No. 23.
Leave Florence
Kingstree
.. 12.14 a m
Ijines
.. 12.32 a m
Arrive Charleston
No. 53.
Leave I.aues
.. 8.45 p m
Arrive Charleston
. 10.40 p m
Train on C. & I). K. R. connects at
Florence with No. 15 Train.
NORTH BOUND.
No. 78.
Leave Charleston
Lanes
Kingstree
Arrive Florence
. 4.55 a m
No. 66
Leave Charleston
Kingstree
Arrive Florence
... 9.00am
No. 14.
Leave Charleston
. 4.12 p m
Lanes
Kingstree
Arrive Florence
.. 7.10 p m
No. 52.
Leave Charleston
.. 6.35 a m
Arrive Lanes
■tXARTSVILLE RAI .ROAD.
** In effect Jan. 2, 1898.
DAILY MIXED TRAIN
LeaVe Hartsville 6.00 a m
Jovann 6.20 a m
Floyd’s .' 5.36 a m
Darlington 5.50 a in
Palmetto 6.02 a m
Arrive Florence 6.15 a m
Leave Florence 9.00 p m
Palmetto 9.15 pm
Darlington 9.80 p B
Floyd’s 9.45 p m
Jovann 10.05 p u
Arrrive Hartsville 10.35 p u
4,9, MYUU2, frpt.
No. 52 runs through to Columbia
via Central R. R. of B. C.
No. 78 runs solid to Wilming
ton, N. C., making close connection
with W. Si W. R. R. for all points
North.
Trains Nos. 14 and 66 run via Wilson
an Fayetteville—Short Line—and
make close connection for ali points
North.
J. F. DIVINE. Gen. Snpt,
n
7ILMINGTON, COLUMBIA &
AUGUSTA RALROAD.
In effect January 2 1893.
SOUTH BOUND.
No. 28.
Leave Wilmington 6-25 p m
Marion 9.41 p m
Arrive Florence 10.25 p m
No. 50.
Leave Florence 3.20 a m
Sumter 4.35 a m
Arrive Columbia 6.15 a m
No. 52.
Leave Sumter 9.43 a m
Arrive Columbia r. 10.55 a m
No. 58.
Leave Florence 7.57 a m
Snmter 8 20 a m
Arrive Columbia
No. 52 runs through from Charles
ton via Central Railroad; leaving
Lanes 8-32 a m, Manning 9 09 a m.
NORTH BOUND.
No. 51.
Leave Columbia 10.45 p m
Sumter 12.05 a m
Arrive Florence I SO a m
No. 78.
Leave Florence 5.10 a m
Marion 5-53 a m
Arrive Wilmington 9.10 a m
No. 59.
Leave Columbia
Sumter 7.30 p in
Arrive Florence....- 8.50 p m
No. 53.
Leave Columbia 6.10 pm
Arrive Sumter 7. 2Sp m
No. 58 runs through to charleston
via central Railroad, arriving Man
ning 8.00 p m. Lanes 8.40 p m,
charleston 10.30 a m.
Trains on Manchester and Augusta
B. R-, leave Sumter daily except Sun
day, 10-50 a. m., arrive Rimini 11:59 a.
m. Returning leave Rimini 13:30 p
m.. arrive Sumter 1:40 p. m.
Trains on Hartsville R. R. leave
Harts»ille 5:00 a. m., arriving Floyds
5:85 a. m. Returning leave Floyds
9:45 p. m., arriving Hartsvill 10:5 p. m.
Daily except Sunday.
Trains on Wilmington, Chadbouru
and Conway Railroad leave Chad-
bourn 10:30 a. m., arrive at Conway
1:00 p. m„ returning leave Conway at
2:80 p. m., arrive ( hid bourn 5:20 p.
m Leave Chadbouru 7:15 a. m. and
5:50 p. m., arrive Hub at 8:00 a. m. and
6:25 p. m. Returning leave Hnb 9:00
a. m. and 6:45 p. in., arrive at Chad-
bourn 9:45 a. m. ai d 7:30 p. w. Daily
except Sunday.
JOHN F. DIVINE, Gen’l Sup’t.
Attenion Mechanics I
All persons in need of babbitt metal
can purchase it cheap at TUB DMM
uawsKawoaMi