Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

> J5 YELL-0W ■<SE—IB BY © IOTA. —w rp>- CHAPTER XXL There were some slight erup tions in the domestic circle at Waring Park before it was de cided what form the wedding was to take. As might be ex pected, Mr. and Mrs. Waring in no way interfered, but kept themselves carefully aloof from the whole concern. But not so Dacre. On hearing of the engage ment, he swooped down upon the paternal abode, all agog to have his say in the arrange ments. He was now a budding warrior, full of himself and his profession, and horribly cock sure on all sujects in heaven and on earth, a good honest af fectionate creature of conven tions, but with “a course thum” which he wielded in a promiscuous style, and often planted sheer on the quick. Dacre wanted a wedding that would have astonished the neighbors, and that would more than probably have been the death of the two rarifled beings who had borne him, but Gwen, backed by Mr. and Mrs. Fel- lowes, arranged things quite her own way. The wedding was to be as quiet as a wedding can be. Neither Strange or Gwen were rich in relations, which simpli fied matters. Lady Mary must come, of course, and the old Waring uncle, and one or two creatures of an observant and fossilized type, not worth men tioning, besides a few of Strange’s belongings. As for friends, when Gwen began to cast about in her mind on that subject, she found that for her, putting aside Mr. and Mrs. Fellowes, none existed. Of the girl friends who usually flock in the wake of a bride, Gwen hadn’t a vestige. She had gone to her room to straighten her thoughts aftei a hot encounter with Dacre, whose carnal mind silt hankered after a proper full-blown wedding, and had been making itself ob jectionable in a bumptious youthful style. She had lost her cool scornful calm at last, and had given him such a glance from her big eyes as had quell ed the British lion in him, and had accompanied it with a lash of her able tongue. “Oh, you are anxious to am use yourself by importing the world and the flesh uown here— here! that they may sneer at two people who, if they have brought children into the world for pure purposes of investiga tion, are at any rate too good to make sport for your friends. You can get your world and your flesh elsewhere, not here at my expense.” “I never saw anyone just go ing to be married like you be fore!” said Dacre, with a dash of iiis old astonished terror at her. “Probably not, your experi ence not being wide.” “Strange is a million times too good for you!” To his astonishment he got no immediate retort. Gwen stood up, getting rather white, and went to the door. She stopped in the shadow of the threshold, and a gray shade fell on Ijer face and made it whiter, but a sunbeam caught her hair and turned it to the orange-gold that Dacre hated. “Fools speak the truth a great deal oftener than they havaany notion of,” she .said, “it is a pity that thick-headed themselves they can’t know how it hurts.” Now she was in her room re fleeting gloomily on things in general. “I never thought,” she said, “I never thought that by any process of reasoning I should be ashamed of the fact of having no girl friends—I used rather to pique myself on it, but upon my word I am ashamed, I am de- gradingly, abjectly ashamed of it, it is one of the symptoms of my disease.” She went to the glass, and crossing her arms on a little table near, she looked at herself, laughing. “Would any one think it to look at me? I look so very sound and complete, and yet 1 am rotten at the core, a sort of Dead Sea apple. What a hack neyed order of fruit to belong to, I am not even original—ugh! I am inclined to think if I were a downright bad woman, who had sinned, sinned solidly, and all for love—I wish to Heaven 1 could (jet the feelings of one of ihem just for five minutes, to understand this temptation which to me is so utterly incom prehensible—Well, I really think that Humphrey would do better to marry a woman of this sort than me. It has come to a pretty pass when I—I, Gwen Waring, have taken to envying that sort of person!” She raised her head, got to her feet, and went down and play ed for an hour, then she went out and walked, walked, walk ed, till she hadn’t a leg to stand on, and could no more think than she could fly. About a week before his mar riage, Strange ran up to Lon don for a couple of days, but even to Gwen he did not specify the nature of his business, which altogether concerned Brydon’s launching in life. When he reached the studio, he found things looking pretty bad. Like many a better man, if h’s Art didn’t drive him Bry- don couldn’t drive his Art; be sides, his health was below par, there were days and days when when he couldn’t so much as paint a potboiler, then he starv ed. He was learning Italian just now, to solace himself. Strange perceived, however, that the soft vowels hardly appealed to an empty stomach. Brydon was a haggard and distressful ob ject, sitting with Dante on the table before him, smoking cheap tobacco, and with the ghastly beginning of a sketch crying shame on him from every cor ner. “Goodness, how outrageously jolly you look! Is it engagement or ten thousand a year?” “Oh, I’m all right, which is more than you look! Taken to shag, I see—well, I can stomach a lot, but not that. Would you mind chucking that pipe some where where it won’t smell, and try some of my stuff, just to oblige me? Overheated Arab and shag are the two stinks I draw the line at. Hallo!” he remarked, looking at one of the sketches. “I am taking a holiday.” He was going on to lie a little —but with a shrug he changed his course. “I have to, as a matter of fact. I can’t paint, I’ve lost the way do you ever forget the way to write?” he asked. “Do I? The deuce I do! We all do at times, then we feel like throat-cutting or ‘Rough on Rats.’ However, I came on business. I have some spare cash and I want to invest it, and on looking round I have come to the conclusion you would be rather a good thing to put some of it into. ” “I?” “Yes, even your beastliest daubs have something in them that saves their souls. One has to look more than once at everything you do, even if it is only to swear at it. You have capacity somewhere about you, wherever you hide it—as for drawing, you don’t know the beginnings of it! But what’s that? You can learn, it’s a mere question of swatting. If I had any doubt of your success, I wouldn’t be here to day. I never on principle put a penny into a rotten concern, and I am here to make you a definite of fer, as binding on you as on me. I will defray your expenses in Paris for three years, I will give ou enough to learn under the est men, and to live decently, not a farthing more,—dm’t speak yet!—” Brydon had jumped up rather wildly. “Wait till you hear all about it—your conditions are pretty hard. In case you should die during your appenticeship—the best of us are liable to that con tingency—I shall insist on you insuring your life for an amount equivalent to that 1 lay out on you. If you live (the best thing you can do under the circum stances), you shall pay me back principal and interest in a given term of years, say fifteen, after you begin to sell.” Brydon threw himself down in his chair and buried his head in his hands, a limited diet of bread and mustard had taken the starch out of him. He was soft, and his eyes were brimful of tears, he was young too, and nearly burst in his efforts to bolt them, then he lifted his head from his hands and began precipitately: “You have given me the chance of a career, you put the world within reach of me, you trust me down to the ground all in one breath. Look here!” For one minute he was about to throw back the salvation waiting under his nose with most laudable selfrespect, but he looked at Strange ai d his heart got soft again. “I’d black your boots for yon, why shouldn’t I be dependent on you? I’ll take your offer, and—and—and—’ ’ “I told you the conditions, I shall stick to them, we don’t thank one another or get emo tional in these transactions, I mean to have my money back, principal and interest, my full pound of flesh. I’m doing a trade with you—take it or leave it, as you like.” “Do you know I’d die for you?” cried Brydon. in a burst of low-diet mawkishness. “Die, before you’ve paid in a penny of your premium! If we can come to terms off-hand, I should like to finish up the mat ter at once, and start for my lawyer’s.” Brydon got up without a word, and began to make him self decent with shaking hands. At last he found safety in a wild burst of gayety and by the time he had bis best coat on, he was bubbling over with a ner vous gentle sort of fun peculiar to his kind. When they were going down stairs he stopped, and remarked in a soft deprecatory sort of way: “I say! I believe my heart’s next to gone. Three goes of rheumatic fever leaves tnat part of a fellow not worth mention ing. Won’t that make the pre mium pretty stiff?” “Probably, I never thought of that. However, it’s you will have to pay the piper, not I.” “You’re an artist in confer ring favors—” “Oh, for Heaven’s sake stop that!” “I wouldn’t take your offer, by Jove! I wouldn’t, but that I mean to repay you.” “But I’ve already taken good care of that!” “The money isn’t every thing,” said Brydon impatient ly, “there is such a thing as be ing proud of a fellow you’ve made, of valuing your own cre ation—” “All that comes in the con tract, the sense of moral eleva tion it gives one to run a suc cessful concern, even if it’s on ly an artist, pleases the carnal mind. There was only the choice between you and a patent medicine, I’d have gone for that but I heard at the last moment that peppermint was the active principle in its manufacture—I draw the line at peppermint— and you were the only alterna tive. And look here, old man— But, good Lord! See that child there! Which is more human, the child’s face or the monkey’s on the organ? Upon my w.ord, the imp scores off the beast only in the matter of cheek pouch. Gru! how it hangs!” Brydon shuddered. “You always see the beast liest details! Couldn’t you keep them to yourself! I shall dream of that child for a week.” “And yet you devour Zola? I had begun something, what was it? Oh,—if I were you I should walk gingerly as sojn as you strike Paris pavement; there is something in it that drives fel lows mad. London is a fool to it! It’s a bad investment for a twelvemonth, if it didn’t give me my premium sooner than I want it. That weak heart of yours, Charlie, if you work the thing properly, should be as good as a family chaplain to you, and it isn’t every man that can boast of as much.” “Talk of utilitarianism,” sighed Brydon, “it is to be a struggle, then, between my natural instincts and my game heart. I wonder which will win?” CHAPTER XXII. When Gwen was dressing for her wedding, it never somehow struck her mother to go to her room, and Gwen had herself given an absolute command that no one should ask her to do so. She made no remark at all on the subject when she did not come, but she insisted on going to the church in the car riage with Mrs. Fellowes. It was useless to oppose her, she was like adamant on this point, which set Dacre swearing like mad, She was white and silent as they drove off. Mrs. Fellowes was silent too, and rather whiter, but she daren’t show any feeling; they were on the brink of a goneral upheaval, and her whole energy must be concentrated to ward it off. Gwen felt her situation with such cruel intensity, that even to herself she had to pretend to a total stony indifference, but when they got to the gates she sighed and stirred softly and put out her hand with unaccus tomed wistfullness and laid it on Mrs. Fellowes. It was cold and stiff. Mrs. Fellowes rub bed it gently between hers and laid it lovingly against her cheek, and kept in her tears, she dared not speak. “God help her, God help her, and God help Humphrey!” she kept repeating to herself in a sort of childish entreaty. “Gwen,” she said at last, “you must not look like this when Humphrey sees you Gwen, my darling, you have nothing to fear with such a man!” “Do you think I fear him? I thought you would have known better, it is myself that I fear.” “Yourself is a bogie you have set up, Gwen; Humphrey will soon demolish that!” “I wish I felt sure of it. I wish I felt sure of anything. Upon my word, Mrs. Fellowes, upon my word, I wish from the bo tom of my soul I could say with any decent show of hones ty, God help us, Humphrey and me! But God never felt so un real, such a mere bubble to please fools, as He does at this minute—Don’t, don’t exclaim, or protest, or be shocked—not to-dey, my wedding day, and such a brilliant matah, too!” she added laughing, “Ah, well! I won’t hurt you, we’ll leave that part.—My father is to go through the farce of bringing me up to the alter, is he not? r she asked, thrusting all trace of emotion from her face and sit ting up straight. ‘•If you don’t keep a very sharp eye on him he is sure to do something quite unique. If one could only wind him up and touch springs at intervals! one can’t unfortunately, and I feel sure I shall be made ridiculous. Your eye must get off him now and again, so I suppose I may as well accustom myself to the thought,” she went on with shrug, “and resolve to swallow the v. hole hog without grimac ing, but I do so loathe being made to look like a fool. Are we here? Oh, my flowers! The children have them perhaps? Yes, look!” As she walked up the church, just touching her father’s ami, with Mrs. Fellowes’ two little nieces in white gauze and water lilies, looking like a pair of lilies themselves for softness and cool creaminess, trotting after her, her mother from her chan cel pew canght sight of her for the first time. For a minute she looked dazed and frighten ed, then suddenly with a broken smothered cry, she leaned for ward and threw out both her hands to her daughter, two big tears in her eyes, and her face tremulous with a great joy that was pain. Mrs. Fellowes saw it, it was intensely pathetic to her and a revelation. ' She had at last, at the end of all these years,* seen a glimpse of this small, golden headed creature’s motherhood —after all she was really hu man! She hurried up, sat down beside her, and gently brought her back to herself. Then with one of Mrs. Waring’s hands caught in hers, as if she had been a child, she looked at Gwen, and wondered how on earth any girl with a stone for a heart could look as divine as she did. She looked round the church, and every man, woman, and child was worshipping her in audible silence. There was not a whisper, not a joke, not a smile. As soon as the cake was cut, Gwen went away to dress. As she passed Mrs. Fellowes she whispered: “Will you help me? I want to speak to you—Mary, Mrs. Fellowes will help me to dress, and please don’t cry,” she said wearily, “I shall see you often, and—really, I have given you no very special reason to cry for me.” She half laughed, then she stooped and kissed the old wo man’s cheek. “You have always been so good to me, come and see mo be fore I go.” When Mary had disappeared choking, Gwen turned to the glass and began to take off her bracelets. “Sit down and 'et me take off your wreath,” said Mrs. Fel- fowes. “I wish I had done as Mrs. Fellowes suggested,” said Gwen at last, playing with a diamond dagger that Strange had given her, ‘and looked through that marriage service; it is a degrad ing thing to lie as I have done to-day. I might have been any commonminded vulgar woman perjuring myself for a settle ment. You see, I am marrying as a sort of experiment!—Oh, don’t, you gave my hair an aw ful pull!—Humphrey knows it, but I didn’t realize that I should actually have to swear to a lie —no experiment is worth that. I have put myself in a false po sition,” she continued, stirring irritably, “from having told those miserable blatant lies. I was never at a weddins what you have lone,” said she, laying her soft warm cheek down on the girl’s head in the caressing way she had when Gwen was a child, “then you will suffer, ah. child, how you will suffer! But it is Humphrey one feels for now. Gwen, you must not let him feel you are so far from loving him.” ‘He knows. You don’t sup pose I lied to him?” “He knows in a way, but he doesn’t realize the knowledge, nor does he quite know the ma terial he has to work on, or how the twist came into the warp the woof ot it. Gwen, don’t let your horrid truthfulness make S ou cruel, be patient, dearest, e patient, this love won’t come like a shock, it will steal in on you, and I am perfectly convin ced your first impulse will be to kick it out.” Gwen gave a little laugh. Mrs. Fellowes dropped the brooch with which she was go ing to fasten Gwen’s collar, went a few steps away, and looked at her. “Humphrey knows precious little about you,” she cried, with some natural irritation, “he is dazed, small blame to him! so am I, so is John, we are all dazed.” Her eyes filled suddenly with tears. “We all pour out our love on you, and—and for what? Just for a cold ghost of a thing, for hope—hope, what good is that to any man? Now, look here, Gwen, don’t let Humphrey know this, naked truth though it be. There is no lie in the matter, you can love, darling, you can, *tis only the learning that is the trouble for you. but I have a horrid presentiment, in spite of all I can say, that your most objectionable direct meth ods will run you into deplorable difficulties.” “Truth is tangible, even if it is brutal,” said Gwen, “but love—love—love—love, this in tangible vague horror, why should I be persecuted with it, why should I realize now that, vague as the thing is, it is sa cred, and a sort of crime of a very low order to be incapable of it? I got as lar as that in church to-day with all those taring faces on me, and Mr, ellowes’ eyes—he has no right to look through people like that!” She turned away to hide the crimson in her cheeks. “Then this one-flesh business, this is a horrid thing.” She squeezed her hands into her eyes. “This is maddening!” she cried, and sprang up and stood looking out of the window. One flesh!” she murmured breathlessly, “One flesh!” Presently she shook herself, and with a long sigh brought the calmness back into her face, then she went and put her two hands on Mrs. Fellowes’ shoul ders and looked down on the sad face with a little laugh. Look here!” she said, “ad vise every girl you care about not to try experiments in mar riage, and to read the marriage service with the man she is en gaged to standing opposite to her, before she dares to quote from it in church before all the rag-tag and bobtail of society. And now, give me my hat and kiss me, you don’t know how much a part of my life your love for me is, even though it is fed on hope only, and—I shall try to be honest to myself without any flagrant brutality to Hum phrey,” she said laughing, “I think that is all I can promise just yet. Ah, what a lovely scheme of color!” she cried, looking at her superb figure, in its dusty-amethyst gown with the flashes of lemon-yellow m it. Do you think my father and was never at a wedding in my I “ oth T er are awalc ? life in the church, f always * hat I am marned to-day? she demanded. If you had heard your moth er’s cry when she saw you go up the aisle, and had seen her managed to escape that part, and I really never thought of the words, ‘love, honor, and obey,’ in any solemn, binding, personal connection. On the whole, it is a pity for women not to have been reared on Bi bles and Prayerbooks, it might keep them from some pitfalls, and no doubt the ordinarv mother is useful too, in such cases.” Mrs. Fellowes’ heart quivered painfully, and her hands trem bled as she twisted up a coil of Gwen’s hair that had come loose. She had suspected the truth very early in the day, but all through her short en ment Gwen had kept both r and the Rector length. When I found out what I really was in for,” went on Gwen, it was two late to draw back—no, it wasn’t!” she cried, “the habit of lies is growing on me, but then I was ashamed, too much of a coward.” “This is very sad,” said Mrs. Fellowes at last, “it is so sad, dear, that one can hardly speak of it. No woman has the right to try experiments, to play pranks with hearts and souls. You deserve—ah, what a brute I am! I have no right to scold you, my poor Gwen, you’ll have to pay dearly enough for your play. You will now some day face—as long as I live I shall never forget either!—you would have no need to ask such a question,” said Mrs. Fellowes, with gentle gravity. “I thought she looked rather different from usual, and I fan cied my father’s arm trembled when I held it. So—so!” she said with a half-mocking smile as she fastened the top button of her glove, “so marriage is so solemn and sacred a subject that it has actually touched the human part of those two peo ple! An, Mary, here I am, ready for my new life—do you like me? The outside is satis factory, is it not? It is quite pleasant to feel so like a whited sepulchre!” she said to Mrs. Fellowes as they went down the stairs, “it excites me.” [TO BE CONTINUED.] Bucklsn** Arnica Salve. The Best Salve in the world for Cuts, Bruises, Sores. Ulcers, Salt Rheum, Fever Sores, Tetter, Chapped Hands Chilblains, Corns, and all Skin Eruptions, and positively cures Piles, or no pay required. It is guaranteed to give perfect satisfaction, or money refunded. Price 26 cents box. For sale at Willeox & drugstoft. A Household Treasure. D. W. Fuller, of Canajoharie, N. Y., says that he always keeps Dr. King’s New Discovery in the house and his family has always found the very best re sults follow its use; that he would not be without it, if pro curable. G A. Dykeman Drug- * ist, Catskill, N. Y. t says that T. King’s New Discovery is undoubtedly the best Cough rem edy that he has used it in his family for eight years, and it has never failed to do all that is claimed for it. Why not try a remedy so long tried and tested. Trial bottles free at Willeox & Co’s Drug Store. Regular size 50c. and $1.00 When Baby was sick, we gave her Cafrtoria. When riie Waa a Child, she cried for Castoria. When she became Mias, she clung to Castoria. When she had Children, she gave them C astoria. BROWN’S IRON BITTERS cures Dyspepsia, In digestion & Debility. Mnny Persons arc brt,ken down from overwork or boiuebobl curia. Brown’s Iron Bluer* KebulMMbc ayatem, aida diuvstlon. rvmovv. eicea of bile, nod corea malaria (Jet the *euuiue. STATE OF SOUTH CAROLINA. County of Darlington. Ry T. H: Spain, Esq., Probate Judge Whereas. J. E. Lunnand Jestte Lunu hathmadermit tome, tograntuutotheui Letter* of Admini*tration of theK*tate of and effects of J. T. Lunn de ceased, there are therefore to cite and admonirh all and singular the kindred and creditor* of the raid J. T. Lunn deceased, that they be and ap pear before me, in the Court of 1’rob- hate, to be held at Darlington C. H., ou Pept. 7 next, after publication there of, at 11 o’clock in the forenoon, to show cause, if any they have, why the *aid Administration should not be granted. Given under my hand, this 22nd day of Aug., Anno Domirii, 1894. T. H. SPAIN. Judge of Probate. Aug. 28—2t. ■tXARTSVILLE RAILROAD. June 8, 1894. MIXED TRAIN Leave Hartsville 5.80 a m Jovann Floyd’s Darlington Palmetto Arrive Florence Leave Florence Palmetto Darlington Floyds Jovann Hartsville J F. DIVINE. Gen. Supt. /CHARLESTON, SUMTER AND NORTHERN RAILROAD CHARLES E. KIMBALL Receiver. In Effect Jan. 16, 1894. NORTH. SOUTH. 9 8 P.M. P.M. Lv 4.(0 Charleston 2.30 Ar 5.20 Pregnall’s 1.10 7.25 Sumter 11.02 8.37 Darlington 9.50 0 2U Bennettflville 9.00 9.52 Gibson 8.37 Ar 10.20 Hamlet 8.10 Lv P.M A.M. No. 9 connects at Hamlet with S. A. L. Vestibule train for Raleigh, Rich mond, Washington, Haltimore, Phil adelphia and New York. No 8 connects with S. A. L. Vesti bule train/row above named points. Trains run solid to and from Charles ton. C. MILLARD, Superintendent. & D. and C. 4 S. RAILROADS. In effect June 3, 1894. MIXED TRAIN Leave Wadesboro 2.00 p m Kenuett's 2.25 p m Morveu’s 2.40 p in McFarland 2 55 p m Cheraw 8.45 pm Cash's 4.10pm Society Hill 4.40 p in Dove’s 5.10 pm Floyd's 5.30 p m Darlington 6.05 p m Palmetto 0.20 p in Arrive Florence 6.45 p m Leave Florence 7.85 a m Palmetto 8.00 a m Darlington - 8.35 a m Floyd’s - 9.00 am Dove's 9 15 a m Society Hill 9.45 a in Cash’s 10.15 a m Cheraw 11.00 a in McFarland 11.40 am Morven’s 11.55 am Bennett's 12.10 a m Arrive Wadesboro 12.30 a m Local Freight. Leave Darlington 4 30 p m Palmetto 4.42 p m Arrive Florence 5.00 p m Leave Florence 8.80 a m Palmetto 8.50 am Arrive Darlington 9 05am A. F. RAVENEL, President. N ORTHEASTERN RAILROAD. In effect June 3, 1894. (r. S. 4 SON, Manutacturers —OF— Doors, Sasb, Blinds, N^OTTI-IDXJSrCTS —AND- Building Material. ESTABLISHED 1842. CHARLESTON, 8. 0. April, 2 0 1898—1 Tne Fundamental Principle of Life Assurance is protection for the family Unfortunately, however, the beneficiaries of life assurance are often deprived of the pro vision made for them, through the loss of the principal, by following bad advice regard ing its investment Under the Tontine Installment PoUcy of SOUTH BOUND. N <. 61 Leave Florence 7.45 a m Kingstree 9.20 a m Lanes 9.4.’, a m Arrive Charleston 12.10 a m K 3. 85. Leave Florence 8.10 a m Lanes 4.20 a in Arrive Charleston 6.10 * w No. 23. Leave Florence 7.46 p m Kingstree 0.02 p in Lanes 9.28 p m Arrive Charleston 11 18 p m No. 53. Leave Lanes 7 05 p in Arrive Charleston 8.40 p m Train on C. 4 D. R. R. connects at Florence with No. 61 Train. NORTH BOUND. No. 78. Leave Charleston 3.85 a m Lanes 5.40 a m Kingstree 6 00 a m Arrive Florence 7.10 a in No. 32. Leave Charleston 8.80 p m Lanes 6.88 p ir, Kingstree 5.57 p i* Arrive Florence 7.05 p in No. 52. Leave Charleston 7.15 a in Arrive Lanes 8.45 » jc No. 52 runs through to Columbia via Central R. R. of S. C. Train Nos. 78 and 14 runs via Wilson and Fayetteville—Short Line—and makes close connection for all points North. J. F. DIVINE, Gen. Supt. w ILMINGTON, COLUMBIA AUGUSTA RALROAD. * In effect June 3, 1894. SOUTH BOUND. The Equitable Life you are provided with an ab solute safeguard against such misfortune, besides securing a much larger amount of in surance for the same amount of premiums paid in. For facts and figures, address W. J. RODDEY, Manager, For the Canlinu. Rock Hill. S V C. CAN b« CURED. Wo will SEND FREE by ■oS a luxe TRIAL BOTTLEj a iraatiM oa EpilcpcT. DON’T ANY LONGER I 6lw Pott Oi. au and Couaty, and Afo plainly. TNI HALL CHEMICAL CO..' miadttplu^.C No. 65. Leave Wilmington 3.40 pm Marion 6.31 p in Arrive Florence 7.10 p in No. 50. Leave Florence 7.85 p m Sumter 8.47 pm Leave Sumter 8.47 p w Arrive Columbia 10.10 p m No. 68. Leave Florence 8.20 a m Arrive Sumter 9 40 a m No. 52. Leave Sumter 0.58 a m Arrive Oolnmbla 11.10 a m No. 52 runs through from Charles ton via Central Railroad; leaving Lanes 8-48 a m, Manning 9 25 a m. NORTH BOUND. No. 51. Leave Colnmbh .a*»««4*M. Vh- • 4.30 a m Sumter.... . x . . 6.55 am Arrive Florence . 7.10 a m No. 56. ROOFING SLATES. TpLEMING CEMENT ^ AND BRICK COMPANY. MASONS’ SUPPLIES, 276 East Bay, CHARLESTON, 8. C. Importers of | ENGLISH ~ |~ I FOB.TIL. A-lSTiD I | CEMENT | and dealers in Eastern and Southern Rock Lime, Roeendale Cement, N. Y Plaster Parle, Hair, Laths, Shingles. Tiles, Bricks, Fire Clay and all Bnilding Mater ial. ALL SIZES T. C. PIPE. BEST FULL SIZE FIRE BRICK. Tblbphonk 291. Leave Florence 7.40 a m Marion 8.23 a m Arrive Wilmington 11.10 am No. 58. Leave Colombia — 4.20 pm Arrive Sumter 5.45 p m No. 59. Leave Colombia Snmter 6.55 p m Arrive Florence 7.06 p in No. 53 rnne thiougu «o unarlesion vlff central Railroad, arriving Man ning 6.22 p m Lanes 7.U, p in, charleston8-40 pm. Trains on Manchester and Augusta B. R-, leave Sumter uaiiy except Sun day, 10.59 a. m., arrive iiimiui il.ud a. m. Returning leave Kimim i.UJ p. 11 m.. arrive Sumter 2:10 p. nr. Trains on Wilmington, Cbatlbonrn and Conway Railroad leave Chun bourn at 10.10 a in, arrive at Conway 12.80 p m, returning leave Conway at ive Ch ROOFING SUtTN* 2:00 p. m.. arrive Chadbouru d:5u p. m. Leave Cbadbonrn 6.85 p in ami 5.15 p m, arrive at Hub 6 20 p in Re turning leave Hub 8.15 a in, arrive at Chad bourn 9.00 a in. Daily ejwpet *' U> ibhl W, MYUW.9n»1 Pw*