The Darlington news. (Darlington, S.C.) 1875-1909, April 05, 1894, Image 3
ON LIFE’S BANQUET STAIRS.
W. PM* eachotharea Uf«’« banquet etalre;
New guMU are mounting to the festal light.
While wa descend together to the night.
Close muffled 'gainst the ooteide wintry aim
They tread upon oar shadows as they climb
With quick, strong steps to join the crowd
and crush.
W* see In sparkling eyes sad speaking blush
How expectation gilds the coming time. /
Toang forms go by us. tossing rosy sprays
In brave apparel, tinU of flower and bird.
Of blossom patches by the summer stirr'd.
With sheen of silk and gems that scatter rays
Knew we sacb aeet, true heart, when mount
ing op?
Such haste to lift the chalice to our lips.
To learn if pleasure sweeter is in sips,
Or when, with manhood's thirst, we drain the
cup?
Shall we stand by and carp at these amt say.
“Oo, giddy ones and mothliko Ore youi
wings.
Pleasure la pain, and laughter norm*
brings?”
Shall we speak thus who once were young as
they?
Farewell! We’ve supp'd. Life's wine was keen
and bright;
Old friends move by and gain the outer door-
Tbe wind blows buBeta with a northern roar.
And peat the shsdowsglesms the distant light’
-W, W. Hasten.
AN ADEQUATE REASON
Hig Mine was George Carew, and at
the time of which I write he was a
passenger on board the Royal Mail
steamer Cobra on her homeward voyage
from Buenos Ayres to Southampton. It
was late in the year, and the passengers
were comparatively few. I cannot
with truth say that Carew was a gener
al favorite on board. He was taciturn
as a rale, and when he was not taci
turn he was apt to be dogmatic.
Among the male passengers he was
nsnally spoken of as “a decent fellow
enough, but queer.” The feminine por
tion of the community thought—or said
they thought — him uninteresting.
Among their number was a tall, pretty
blond, who had gradually pierced the
armor of his reserve, and in whose com
pany he had even been seen to smile.
They becanfb very good friends—so
much so indeed as to draw down upon
the young lady’s head various maternal
lectures on the folly of encouraging
young men who were nobodies. But as
Carew, of course, did not hear these
lectures, and aa Miss Ida Lennox was a
self willed young person, their friend
ship suffered no interrnption.
There was a certain Mrs. Bonverie on
board, an extremely handsome widow,
in whom Carew, for some unknown
reason, had aionsed a violent dislike.
She was clever as well as handsome,
but was possessed of a passionate and
somewhat uncertain temper 1 — which
last, however, in virtue of her many
eonnterbalancing good qnalitiee, was
universally condoned.
One evening at dinner Mrs. Bonverie
was expatiating to those nearest to her
on the value and antiquity of a very
enrious and beantiful ring which she
wore, and which she had picked np in a
tour through Italy. She affirmed it to
be at leaat 800 years old. It was a broad
gold band, chased richly and with mar
velous delicacy and set all round at
regular ‘ intervals with large diamonds
of exquisite brilliancy. Inside were
two capital letters, N. C., each letter
formed of tiny seed pearls sunk into the
gold. Mrs. Bonverie, who was of a
romantic turn, was of opinion that it
had been an ancient betrothal ring.
There was a half effaced date inside,
which the widow’s right hand neigh
bor^ pale, consumptive looking clergy
man, was in vain trying to decipher
through a small magnifying glass.
Presently a lady opposite begged to be
allowed to examine the ring, and from
her it was passed from hand to hand
pretty well np and dovm the length of
the table.
But, strange to say, it did not come
back to its owner. It had apparently
disappeared. Every one declared it
had passed safely ant of his or her
hands. Where was it then? There
was a great commotion, of course; ev
erybody rose, and a thorough search
was made, on and under the table and
from one end to the other of the long
saloon.
The ring, however, was not forth
coming. Its owner had by this time
become somewhat excited, and a rather
disagreeable scene ensued. In point of
fact, Mrs. Bonverie insinuated that
someone had appropriated her ring.
Upon this, some of the male passengers
. angrily suggested that, if Mrs. Bonverie
entertained suspicions of that nature,
•II present had better turn out their
pockets. To this proposition there was
• general assent
All resumed their seats, and there
was a hurried disentombing of keys,
letters, pocket handkerchiefs, etc., bat
no ring.
Carew, to the surprise of all, qnietly
refused to exhibit the contents of his
pockets.
"But merely as a matter of form,
Mr. Carew,” expostulated the captain.
The yonng man, however, repeated
his refusal courteously, hut mote in
flexibly, if anything, than before.
There was an awkward silence.
Then Mrs. Bonverie forgot herself.
“May I ask, air,” she said, address
ing Carew in an excited tone, “why
yon refuse to do aa all your fellow pas
sengers have done?”
“Ton may, madam,” waa the brief
and haughty answer.
"Well, sir, and why not?”
‘•Because. I have a very special reason
for not doing so,’’he answered in a
carefully repressed voice.
“And that reason?”
"I fear I must decline to give it,”
he answered qnietly, hot with an om
inous flash in his gray ayes.
"Then yon are aware of the imputa
tion your refusal casts upon your char
acter?” inquired the lady scornfully.
"That is a matter of the utmost in
difference to me,” was the icy answer.
Bat the speaker’s band, as it lay upon
the table, opened and shut in a quick,
nervous fashion which showed that hs
waa less unmoved than he looked.
Whereupon Mrs. Bonverie waxed
more and more indiacreet, and all bat
accused Carew of having the ring in
his poHMfinl nn
-‘Mrs. Bonverie, Mrs. Booverie,”re
monstrated the captain, “this is really
not quite fair. ”
Here CerewJ who had been growing
whiter every moment, rose from hie
"I regret that yon should here such
an opinion of me aa your worde imply,
Mrs. Bonverie,” he said in a queer, un
certain vo'ee. “May I suggest that
you drop the subject for the present?
My temper is not all that it might be,
and I ahonld be eorar to be aniltr of
discourtesy to n lady. ”
Then be left the saloon and went on
deck.
After this day, however, Carew ob-
served a gradual but marked difference
in his fellow passengers’ demeanor to
ward him. His greetings were received
coldly, though with scrupulous polite
ness. Groups began to melt insensibly
away at hia approach, or his advent waa
a signal for a dead silence.
If this general boycotting affected
the object of it, he did not ehow it, hut
simply withdrew into himself and
avoided other people as deliberately aa
they avoided him. To only one person
did he make an advances, and he only
made them once. It waa in this way:
Early one morning he was standing
looking moodily to leeward, when he
suddenly became aware that Miss Len
nox had come on deck aud was leaning
against one of the doors of the covered
stairway. Their eyes met. She blush
ed deeply, made a half hesitating move
ment of her head—which might have
meant a morning salutation or might
not—and turned away. But Carew
took steps toward her.
“One moment. Miss Lennox,’’ he
said in an odd voice. “Will yon tell
me why you have avoided me so persis
tently during the last few days?”
“Avoided you?” she stammered awk
wardly enough. “Oh—I, really—notat
all. But—but”
Carew smiled slowly, but his lips
were pale. “I beg your pardon,” he
said quietly. Then he lifted his cap
and walked away.
As be did so he saw one of the male
passengers grinning from behind an
abnormally large cigar. He did not
pitch the youth overboard, hnt he conld
have done so with pleasure.
After this little episode, Carew was,
if possible, more ostracised than ever.
Only the captain treated him with com
parative cordiality. But as the days
went on he, too, became lees kind, es
pecially after one forenoon when he
opened to Carew the matter in hand.
The young man cut him short at once.
“I don’t care to disenae the thing.
Ton can believe what your passengers
seem to believe, or you can let it alone.
It is nothing to me.”
Captain North shrugged his shoulders
and walked off. Carew laughed. His
laugh was short, though, aud bitter.
If this suspected young man had been
anybody in particular it is possible
they might not have been so hard upon
him. But aa he was simply George
Carew, with nothing beyond an average
good looking faoe and well set up figure
to recommend him, and as, moreover,
his clothes had a look of having seen
better days and were by no means of
the latest cut, he was clearly not an ac
quaintance to he regretted.
At dinner that night Carew found
himself next a small, gray clad yotflig
woman, with a pale, serious face aud a
smooth, birdiike head of dark brown
hair. She had also, as he absently
noted, exquisitely shaped hands. He
had never entered into conversation
with the little woman; Indeed he had
hardly been aware of her existence be
yond hearing the captain address her
once or twice as Miss Neville.
As he took his seat beside her tonight,
however, she said in a low, clear voice,
“Good evening, Mr. Carew.”
It waa so many da^s since any of the
lady passengers had addressed him at
all that he actually started.
“I beg your pardon?” he said.
“I only said good evening,” the girl
in gray made answer, looking np at
him with a little smile.
Then he noticed that her teeth were
very pretty and her eyee very satisfac
tory indeed. Before he had time to
apeak, she went on: “The captain says
that before many days we shall be in
the bay of Biscay. I have not crossed
it since I was a little child. I suppose
it will be frightfully rough?”
“1 think it is more than likely,” he
answered, gazing steadily at his plate.
Whereupon they drifted into a sub
dued, friendly conversation which last
ed till the end of the meal. Carew was
not a particularly soft hearted fellow,
but it touched him strangely—this un
locked for partisanship. It gave him
a queer, unwonted lamp in his throat
and made him feel womanish, which
annoyed him.
Next morning he saw the girl in gray
on deck. She was Handing quite still,
watching the screaming aea birds that
flew and dipped astern. Her pale, seri
ous little face already seemed to him
like the face of a friend. As he passed
her with a slight bow she turned, held
out her hand and bade him a cheery
good morning, supplementing it by
some trifling remark regarding the
weather. He stopped, answered her
and stood beside her for a minute or
two. Then he flung away his cigar
and leaned his arm on the railing.
His companion scanned his face
swiftly and covertly. She thought he
looked dispirited, and she felt for him,
for she was a tender hearted little
woman.
They talked on indifferent subjects
until luncheon and repeated the process
between that meal and dinner and also
in the evening. ' And so it came to pass
that Carew began to look upon this
small, gray clad creature as his one
friend in all his present world. He
learned a great deal about her from her
half unconscious confidences—among
other things that her Christian name
was Joyce,and that she waa an orphan,
and that she had known trouble. But
•he learned little or nothing about him.
The Cobra touched at Corunna, where
one or two Englishmen came on board.
Then came the redoubtable bar of Bis
cay.
On the night they left Conuma there
was a glorious moon, under the rays of
which Mias Neville and Carew were
walking up and down on deck.
The steamer was rolling a great deal,
and he had offered her his arm, which
she had accepted. She treated him in
a frank, unembarrassed fashion, almost
as a sister might have done—and he?
Well, men are susceptible, you know,
and 1 am bound to say his feelings to
her were not altogether those of a
brother.
When they had taken a few tarns in
silence, she said suddenly, “Mr. Carew,
we seem to have became such good
friends by this time that I should like
to say something to yon which other
wise I should not presume to say.”
She looked np at him as she spoke,
and he looked down at her.
“You know yon may say anything
yon please to me, ” he said, with a curi
ous lingering tenderness in hia voice.
“You won’t think it a liberty, will
yon?” she went on.
“I shall assuredly net think it a lib*
arty." .was the brief tanrv. Qn-
tctniy her eyes were very lovely, mey
thrilled him throngh and through.
”1 want to ask yon, then,” she said
somewhat nervously, “why you allow
those people to believe what they be
lieve about you?"
She felt him wince slightly.
There was a silence. * The monotonous
throbbing of the engines amidships
mingled with floating scraps of half
heard talk and laughter.
Then Carew said in a hard, bitter
voice: “Unfortunately I am not respon
sible for their beliefs. Miss Neville.
Beeidee, what they believe of me may
be—true. 1 am—pardon me—an utter
stranger to yon; you have no reason to
belieye in my innocence. ”
“1 do believe in your innocence,
though,” she murmured, an excited
thrill running through her voice.
“May I ask why?" He spoke clear
ly, hut she felt his arm tremble under
her hand.
For one swift moment she looked np
at him, and her eyee were full of tears.
But he did not see them, for he waa
gazing straight before him.
“Why?” she repeated, with a curi
ous sobbing little laugh. “Because 1
—know I”
A minute later she was gone, and he
was watching the last flutter of her
gown disappearing in the direction of
the stairway.
Late that night Carew sat In his
cabin, leaning hia elbows on his knees,
and staring earnestly at something he
held between his fingers, something that
twinkled and sparkled as the light of
the electric lamp fell upon it It was
a broad gold gipsy ring, richly chased,
and set at intervals with large dia
monds. Inside were two Roman let
ters formed of tiny seed pearls.
s • s s s . •
For two days after that it blew a
pretty fair gale. It rained a good deal,
too, at intervals; and such of the pas
sengers as were not violently seasick in
their berths kept to the saloon or the
music room, with the exception of two
or three hardy males, of whom Carew
was one.
As he passed the door of the stairway
toward the evening of the second day,
he saw Miss Neville, who bad just
struggled so far, and was clinging to
the door to windward. She was look
ing white and ill, he thought, but when
he told her so she only laughed.
“Do you care to come for a turn?"
he said. , "It doesn't rain now, and I
will take good care you don't fall," he
added.
She consented, but the steamer was
pitching so heavily that after a few
turns Mies Neville said she would rath
er sit down.
So Carew provided her with a shel
tered seat, brought a warm rug to wrap
about her feet and seated himself beside
her. It was now almost dark. A few
stars shone here and there in the stormy
sky.
The wind shrieked and whistled
drearily. The deck was deserted. For
quite a long time both were silent
Then Carew said in a half whisper:
“Yon are trembling. Yon are not
afraid of the storm, are yon ? It is noth
ing for the bay, I assure you. ’
"No—I am not afraid.”
"You feel quite saie here with me?”
he went on, sinking his voice lower yet.
“Yes,” she answered somewhat
tremulously.
After a pause he laid his hand on
hers as it rested on her knee and said
in an edd, deliberate kind of way:
“ Will yon let me take care of yon al
ways? I mean as my wife. * I have
grown to love you very dearly, and I
think I conld make yon happy. ”
For perhaps a minute there waa utter
aileuoe.
Then Carew withdrew his hand, say
ing hastily and In an indefinably
changed voice: "Ah! you do not care
for me. Perhaps it is as well, and per
haps I had no right to ask you to do so.
I forgot for a moment that I am a man
under a clond—a cloud that in all prob
ability Will never be lifted, for I tell
yon honestly I have no means of right
ing myself. Forget what I have said. ”
The words and tone were hardly lover-
like, but there was a slight, almost im
perceptible quiver in the deep voice.
A small hand stole softly into his.
“I do care for yon, ” said a happy lit
tle voice, "and I wonld take your word
against all the world.”
Another panse. Carew did not even
press the hand be held. Then he said
harshly: “Bnt suppose I cannot give
you my word ? Suppose I tell you that
I am what our fellow passengers think
I am?”
“I should not believe yon,” was the
confident answer.
“But if I tell you that you must be
lieve me?” Hia face as he looked down
was very pale and wore an expression
she conld hardly fathom.
She uttered a half suppressed little
cry, but she did not take her hand
away—only nestled It farther into his.
He grasped it almost painfully; then
let it go.
"Foolish, trusting little woman, ” he
■aid in a strange voice. “Must I give
you proof that your trust is—mis
placed?”
He held out his other hand to her.
In its palm lay the ring. Even in the
dim light the recognized it at once.
There was a curious, breathless pause,
during which Carew never took his
eyes from the girl’s face.
* ‘ Well ?” he quietly said at last. Ha
felt her little fingers close tightly on
his.
“I can’t help it,” she said brokenly.
“I love yon—I love you.”
“And will yon be my wife?"
She could not see his face, hut his
voice shook.
“Yes,” she whispered, hiding her
face in both her hands.
But the hands were gently drawn.
In the eemldarknees she felt his arm
come about her, and his mustache
brush her Ups.
“Darling,”he murmured passionate
ly, “yon shall never regret It—I
swear,” and in his eyes glittered some
thing that looked Uke tears.
• •••••
Next morning one of the Englishmen
who bad come on hoard at Corunna,
and who had been ill ever since, ap
peared on deck. As it happened, the
first person he saw w:>s Carew.
They greeted each other cordially,
and after the fashion of old friends.
This Englishman, by the way, waa a
well known statesman, and a very good
fellow besides.
In the smoking room that afteroonn
some one kindly put him on his guard
as to Carew and supp’ied the details.
“I thought I wonld mention it, you
know.” amended the man whs had
spoken. “I saw yon speaking to him
•while ago.”
“thank you,” was the dry answer.
'Tve known George Carew for a good
many years. I think 1 have a pretty
good idea of hia idiosyncrasies, and I
don’t think annexing other people’s
property la one of them. By the way,
you may not have heard that he has
come into the title and is now Lord
Evandale. 1 though I'd mention it,
yon know,” he added with a somewhat
grim smile.
# In the silence that followed, the
speaker lit a fresh cigar, rose and went
out. , b
I bltyqtj to. have to relate that dnri:
the remainder of that day a good man',
of the Cobra'* passengers became and
denly imhned with the conviction of
Carew’s—or rather Lord Evandale’■—
Innocence and evidenced as much. How
their overtures were received perhaps 1
need not say.
Joyce Neville was a little ahy with
her lover when she knew. Bnt in the
course of a starlit walk on deck he
made that all right. She, it seemed,
had had the idea that he waa rather
obocure and hard np than otherwise,
at which confession he waa a good
deal touched.
I think it waa on the evening before
the Cobra got into Southampton that
the head steward made a startling dis
covery. Mrs. Bouverie’s ring was
found in a distant corner of the saloon,
where it had been effectually concealed
by an upstanding corner of the carpet
Captain North publicly restored the
ring to its owner that night at dinner.
There was a very uncomfortable silence
for a few moments. Every one had an
awkward kind of feeling that some
sort of apology should he made to the
haughty looking young man who waa
at present helping Mise Neville to clar
et And every one had an equally awk
ward conviction that any apology or
any explanation whatsoever wonld be
worse than impossible.
The subject of their thoughts, how
ever, forestalled anything of the kind.
There was something rather fine in his
appearance jnst then, aa he leaned back
in his chair and threw a keen glance
first up and then down the table.
“As Mrs. Bonverie is now, I hope,
satisfied that I did not steal her ring,”
he said in a cold, clear voice that pen
etrated to every corner of the long sa
loon, “I will explain my reason for re
fusing to turn out my pockets aa the
rest of you did. I possess a ring which
ia the exact fao simile of that poeseeeed
by Mrs. Bonverie, aud as I had the
ring in my pocket on the evening in
question I naturally objected to its be
ing mistaken for any other one’s proper
ty. You are all at liberty to examine
it. If Miss Neville chooses.” Aa he
spoke, he turned and slipped the "dou
ble” of Mrs. Bouverie's ring on the
third finger of Joyce Neville’s left
hand. The look which accompanied
the action spoke volumes.
There was a pause of intense as
tonishment; then a babel of excited
and wondering exclamations, in the
midst of which Lord Evandale rose and
went ont on deck.
The rings were identical, with one
exception—in one the initials were N.
O.; in the other, C. N.
Mrs. Bonverie looked crushed and un
happy, for of all things she dearly
loved a lord. There was weeping and
gnashing of teeth, too, in the cabin of
the Lennoxes.—Montreal Star.
An Exception to Natara’a Lawa.
According to the general laws of na
ture, when a body is cooled it becomes
heavier than when it is hot. There is
at least one exception to this role, and
that is in the case of water. Now, be
fore you read further, shut your eyes
and see if you can figure out just exact
ly how important this exception is to
humanity. Cool a can or other vessel
of water from, say, 70 degrees down to
40 degrees and then pour it into a tub
of water the temperature of which is
any place between 50 and 80 degrees.
Yon will notice that the cold water
will immediately sink to the bottom,
and right here is an explanation of the
mystery of river and lake circulation.
Bnt when yonr cooling process goes be
low 80 degrees, strange as it may aeem,
the water becomes lighter than it was
when it was only one or two degrees
warmer, and if poured into a tub heated
aa directed above will stay on top or im
mediately rise to that position. Now,
let ns suppose that water continued to
get heavier aa it got colder, as other
bodies do; what would happen? Ice as
soon as It formed would sink to the
bottom, layer upon layer, and in this
way seas, lakes and rivers wonld be
frozen solid. Bat one freezing would
do for all time, as the raya of the sun
would not penetrate the thin skim of
cold summer water to a sufficient depth
to thaw the rigid inaas. For ua it is
fortunate that there are “exceptions to
all rules.”—St. Louis Republic.
Treatment Tor Wound*.
Dr. Eichler, in the “Aerzt, Prakt,”
advocates Pern balsam aa a dressing
which causes lacerated wounds to heal
quickly, its point* of adaptation being
that it adheres well and covers the en
tire surface of the wound*; it ha* a
drying effect, bnt stimulates granula
tions, and following application a scab
is formed under which healing goes on.
Dr. Eichler statea that it* nee is especial
ly indicated in the treatment of wound*
having a tendency to marked suppura
tion or partial gangrene, and in in
juries of the hands and fingers the re
sults are excellent. In practice, after
coeptitionof the margins of the wound,
the Peru balsam is poured over the sa
tire suffice, which is then covered with
thin layers of gauss moistened with
balsam an<’ an ordinary dressing. The
latter may he left in place for several
days, though it is an advantage to re
move the outer drawing daily and
moisten the gauss with the balsam
without removing it from the wound.
—New York Tribune. ____
Gambling. ~~ —
A considerable proportion of failure
in business and 90 per cent of the de
falcation* and theft and rain of youth
among people who are employed ia
place* of trust are due directly to gam
bling. I have seen in my vast employ
ment so much misery from the head of
the family neglecting its support, and
squandering his earnings in the lottery
or the policy shop, and promising young
men led astray in a small way, and Anal
ly becoming fugitives or landing in
the criminal dock, that I have come to
believe that the community which li
censee and tolerate* pnhlic gambling
cannot have prosperity in business, re
ligion in its churches or morality amoof
ita people.—Chaonoey Depew.
QUEER PLANTS U3£0 FOR FOODS.
LIUU Kqwwq and Edible In
sects of the Prslrle.
Over at the department of agriculture,
hidden away in an obscure corner, it
an odd sort of exhibit of queer foods
eaten by out of the way people. There
is a loaf of bread made from the roasted
leaves of a plant allied to the century
plant. Another kind of bread is from a
dough of juniper berries. These are rel
ished by some tribes of (ndisns, while
others manatacture cakes out of differ
ent kinds of bulbs.
The prairie Indians relish a dish of
wild turnips, which civilized people
would not he likely to enjoy at all. in
the great American desert the "screw
beans,” which grow on mesquite bush
es. are utilized for food. Soap berries
furnish an agreeable diet for some sav
ages iu this country, while lu Califor
nia the copper colored aborigine* do not
disdain the seeds of salt grass.
Also in California the Digger Indians
collect pine nuts, which are the seeds of
certain species of pine, sometimes called
"plnons,” by kindling fires against the
trees, tbns causing the nuts to fall ont
of the cones. At the same time a sweet
gam erodes from the bark, serving the
purpose of sugar. The seeds of gourds
are consumed in the shape of mush by
Indiana in Arizona.
In addition to all these things the ex
hibit referred to includes a jar of pul
verised crickets which are oaten hi that
form by the Indians of Oregon. They
are roasted, as are likewise grasshoppers
and even slugs. These delicacies are
cooked in a pit, being arranged in alter
nate layers with hot stones. After be
ing thns prepared they are dried and
ground to powder. They are mixed with
pounded acorns or berries, the flour
made in this way being kneaded into
cakee and dried in the sun.
The Assiniboines use a kind of seed to
stop bleeding at the nose. Among other
cartons things nsed for food me acorns,
sunflower seeds, grape seeds, flowers of
cattails, moss from the spruce lii tree
and the blossoms of wild clover. The
exhibit embraces a number of models
representing grape seeds enonnonsly en
larged. It is actually possible to tell the
species of a grape by the shape of the
seed. There is a jar of red willow bark,
which Indians mix with tobacco tor the
take of economy. This, however, is only
one of a thousand plants that are util
ized in a similar fashion.—Washington
Btar.
A Jamaica Congregation.
In ponrs the black portion of the con
gregation. It is composed for the most
part of women. They are gorgeously
arrayed in silks and cottons of the most
bewildering brilliancy, with golden bee
hive shaped ornaments in their ears and
twists of gold about their necks, and ail
are beaming and smiling with the nt-
most complacency and self satisfaction.
With a great many of them the first
dnty is to take off their boots or shoes.
Small wonder, for half of them are in
the habit of trndging 20 or 80 miles a
day barefooted to and from market,
and the other half, if they do not nse
thetr feet so hardly, at any rate never
confine them.
Poor or wanting in proper pride in
deed mast be that woman who cannot
raise a pair of boots or shoes for Sunday
nse I It means agony, yon may conceive,
to keep pinched np in stiff leather a pair
of feet nsed to free, untrammeled move
ment, bnt it has to be borne, and it is
borne—for a few minntes. It is man
aged thns: On the road toebnreb a halt
is made at abont 200 yards' distance
from the building for the parpose of pat
ting on the boots or shoes, which have
been hitherto held in the hands. Church
is then hobbled into and the boots or
shoes taken off, to be again pot on aa
the service draws to close. Church is
then hobbled ont of, and at a respecta
ble distance from It the instromenta of
torture are again got rid of, not to be
pot on again for a week.—All the Year
Ronnd.
Klaetrta Quantity and Tension.
Electric quantity and tension—or In
tensity—are terms based on the assump
tion that electricity Is a fluid. Quan
tity is the amount of the flnid that a
body contains as its charge and the ten
sion or intensity on any point of Its sur
face—insulated electricity lies on the
surface—la the depth, or if the depth
remain the same the density of the flnid
at that point. The quantity baa refer
ence to the number of particles electri
fied and the amount of force lodged in
each; the tension has reference simply
to the Inductive force lodged in each.
Particle* that are highly electrified
most polarize powerfully the particle*
near them, and if powerful enough
cause discharge. Tension or intensity,
therefore, la the power to polarize and
effect discharge. The quantity of elec
tricity passing in a current is estimated
by the power of the current to deflect
the magnetic needle by the chemical de
composition It effects, or by the temper-
stare to which it raises a wire of given
thickness and material. The tension or
intensity of the current Is the power
which it has to transmit a current
•gainst resistance, such as that offered
by a bad, long or thin conductor. Ten
sion, strictly speaking, is not • property
of the current, bnt of the battery which
generates the enrrent.—Brooklyn Eagle.
Snow is sometime* found in polar and
Alpine regions, where it lies nnmelted
from year to year and the annual fall
ie small, colored red by the presence of
innumerable small red plants. In its
native state the plant consists of bril
liant red globules on a gelatinous mass.
Red snow was observed by the ancients,
a passage in Aristotle referring to ^t,
but it attracted little or no attention
until 1780, when Saussure observed it
in the Alps and concluded that it was
due to the pollen of a plant It waa
also noticed by the arctic expedition
under Captain Rose on Baffin’s bay shore
on a range of cliffs, the red color pene
trating to a depth of 12 feet Leas fre-
S it is a green grfcwth on snow.—La-
’ Home Journal.
Wfc»« aa Old Lady Tam
Tm almost afraid aometimes," said a
white haired woman at a club meeting
not long ago, “when I eet the attention
given to athletics, the Delsart* system,
physics) culture or whatever name under
which the enthusiasm exists that the
coming woman ia going to be a superb
animal—nothing more." — New York
Times
- The title m syor comes from the franca
and originally signified “one who keeps
gnard.” He waa the head steward of a
city, administering its attain la the
aane of Uw king.
A.G0NAN
DOYLE.
Begins In Our Next!
Wives
and Daughters
Often lose the benefit of life
assurance, taken out for their
protection, because of ill-ad
vised investments. Again,
the intentions of the assured
sometimes fail of realization
through the prodigality of a
■ son to whom the sudden pos
session of so much money
proves too great a temptation.
The
Equitable Life
has provided against these
contingencies by offering The
Tontine Installment Policy.
The premiums per thousand
are much less than under
older forms of insurance, and
the amount is payable in ao, a 5
or 30 annual payments, thus
securinga comfortable income
for the beneficiary. Write to
W. J. RODDEY, Manager,
Tor th* Carolina, /
' ROCK HILL. S. C.
fl Study
in Scarlet
JS A-
Higb Grade
Detective
Story $
Bu fl. GONflN DOYLE,
Who is pronounced
by Harper’s Weekly
the best writer of
detective stories of
the age.
%
i#
ITWILL BEGINSOOfi
IN THIS PTO
EAGLE BRAND
THE BEST
ROOFINCt
Is nn equalled lor house, barn, fact
ory or oat-bnildings, and cotta half
the price of shingles, tin or iron. It
is ready for use and snail
rad. Will a^op leak* In tin or iron
roofs that will last for years. Try it.
Send stamp for sample* and particu
lars.
Excelsior Paint aid Roofing Go.,
188 DUANE 8T., NEW YORK, N. Y.
Deo 28—2m.
wr.wF.tfLaw -wW^
TTART8VILLE RAILROAD.
** In effect Dee 8,18
DAILY MIXED TRAIN
>•«*•*•#*•••«** 8.00 a
Ok OB
Leave Hartsville....,
Jovann
Flo> d s....................... 8.88 a as
ArriveD&rlington. 7.20 am
Leave Darlington »*••••••■••***•**• 8.80 pm
Floyd’s 8.00 p 1
JOVftQJp >•••*••**•****•*••••• 8.30 l) 1
Arrrive Hartsville 8.40pi
J. V. DIVINE, Gen. Bmpi
CHARLESTON, SUMTER AND
^ NORTHERN RAILROAD
CHARLES E. KIMBALL Receiver
aU JMl
NORTH.
ICUb UflU. XU, .
low*.
SOUTH.
1
2
A.M.
PM.
Lv 7.80
Charleston
8.45 At
8.40
PregnalT*
7.27
10.47
Sumter
5.27
12.05
Darlington
4.12
12 56
Beonettoville 3.21
1.20
Gibson
2.57
1.47
Hamlet
2.80
Ar 8.00
Raleigh
1015 Lv
P.M-
P.M.
No. 1 connnects with
Seaboard
Air Line at Hamlet for Raleigh
Wilmington, Charlotte, Shel
by, Routherfordton ; and at Charlotte
with R. & D. Vestibule Limited for
Washington and New York. Passen-
ers can take sleepers at Charlotte at
:89 p. m.
No. 2 passengers by this train have
through Sleepers. New York to Char
lotte, connects with 8. A. L. at Ham
let from Charlotte, Raleigh and
North, snd from Wilmington, -con
nects with S.C. By. at Pregnalls for
1 lharleston, Columbia, Angugta and
the West. Dinner at Hamlet.
C. MILLARD, Superintendent
c.
A D. and C. A S. RAILROADS.
In effect Dec 3, 1893.
Through Passenger Train.
Leave Wadesboro 4.80 a m
Bennett’s 4.61 a m
Morven’s 6.04 a m
McFarland 5 17am
Cheraw 6.00 a m
Cash's 6.12 am
Society Hill 6.26 a m
Dove's 6.44 a m
Floyd’s 6.49 a m
Darlington 7.00 a m
Palmetto 7.11 a m
Arrive Florence 7.25 a m
Leave Florence
P
m
Palmetto
. 7.28
P
m
Darlington -
7.88
P
m
Floyd’s
7.50
P
m
Dove’s
P
m
Society Hill
. 8 13
P
m
Cash’s
P
m
Cheraw
8.50
P
m
McFarland
9.13
P
m
Morven’s
9.39
P
in
Bennett’s _....
9.54
P
m
Arrive Wadesboro
. 10.15
P
m
Freight Train.
Leave Florence
a
m
Darlington
8.40
a
in
Arrive Cheiaw
a
in
Leave Cheraw
p
m
Darlington
p
m
Arrive Florence
. 6.00
p
m
A. F. RAVENEL, President
N
ORTHEASTERN RAILROAD.
In effect Jan. 11, 1894.
SOUTH BOUND.
No. 61
Leave Florence
7.45 a m
Kingstree
Lanes
9.20 a m
Arrive Charleston
11.20 a m
No. 85.
Leave Florence
8.37 a m
Lanes
4.52 a m
Arrive Charleston
6.50 a m
No. 23.
Leave Florence
7.25 p m
Kingstree
8.87 p m
lanes....
9.00 p m
Arrive Charleston
No. 58.
Leave lanes
7.05 p m
Arrive Charleston
8.45 p m
Train on C. A D. R. R. connects at
Florence with No. 61 Train.
HORTH BOUND-
No. 78.
Leave Charleston
. 3.35 a m
Lanes
5.30 a m
Kingstree
5 52 a m
Arrive Florence
7.10 a m
No. 60
Leave Charleston
5.00 p m
Lanes
7.05 p.m
Kingstree
7.25 p m
Arrive Florence
No. 14.
Leave Charleston
8.30 p m
Lanes
6.29 p m
Kingstree
5.46 p m
Arrive Florence
6.45 p m
No. 52.
Leave Charleston
7.00 a m
Arrive Lanea
No. 52 runs throngh to Columbia
via Central R. R. of S. O.
No. 78 runs solid to Wilming
ton, N. O., making close connection
with W. A W. R. R. for all points
North.
Train No. 14 runs via Wilson
and Fayetteville—Short Line—and
makes close connection for all points
North.
J. F. DIVINE, Gen. Supt.
w
ILMINGTON, COLUMBIA A
AUGUSTA RALROAD.
In effect Dec. 8, 1808.
SOUTH BOUND.
Leave Wilmington..
Marion
Arrive Florence
Leave Florence
Sum ter
Arrive Colombia
Leave Florence
Arrive Snmter
Leave Snmter -..
Arrive Colombia...
*•*•**•****•<
No. 55
... 3.20 p
....8.11 p
6.60 p
No. 60
.. 7.10 p
. 8.28 p
.. 10.00 p
No. 58
... 7.45 a
.. 9 20 a
No. 52
.. 0.58 a
.. 11.06 a
No. 52 runs through from Charles
ton via Central Railroad; leaving
Lanea 8-40 a m, Manning 918 a m.
HOBTH BOUBD.
Leave Columbia.....
Snmter
Arrive Florence
Leave Florence .........
Marion
Arrive Wilmington
Leave Columbia
Arrive Snmter ***••********** 1
Leave Columbia-
Snmter
Arrive Florence....
No-58 ran* thiou
No. 51.
4.80 am
6-57 a m
7.15 a m
No. 58.
. 7.40am
.8.28 am
.11.10 am
No. 58.
4.20 pm
5.85 pm
No. SO.
. 5.45 p m
.6.56 pm
*u unarleston
No. 58 rune tniouaii *u unariestot
via central Railroad, arriving Man
ning 8.15 p m. Lane* 7.00 p m,
Charleston8-45 pm.
Train* on Manchester and Augusta
E. R‘, leave Snmter daily except Sun
day, 10.50 a. m., arrive Rimini 11:59 a.
m. Returning leave Rimini 1.00 p.
m.. arrive Snmter 9:10 p. m.
Trains on Wilmington, Chad bourn
and Conway Railroad lea vs Chad-
bourn at 10.10 a m, arrive at Conway
19.80 p m, returning leave Conway at
8:00 p. m., arrive Chad bourn 4:50 p.
m. Leave Chad bourn 7.00 a m and
5.15 pm, arrive at Hah 7.46 a m and
8.00 p m. Returning leave Bab 8.15 a
m and 8.80 p m, arrive at Chad
9.00 a m ana 7.15 p m. Daily
8nn j3&ir F, DITOE. Qenl