The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, November 29, 1917, Image 6
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| THE HORSE'S PRAYERf ?
To thee, my master, I offer my
prayer: Feed me, water and care
for me, and, when the day's work is
done, provide me with shelter, a
clean dry bed and a stall wide en ugh
for me to lie down in comfort.
Always be kind to me. Tau to
me. Your voice oftens mears as
much to me as the reins. Pet me
sometimes that I may serve you [
more gladly and may also learn
to love you. Do not jerk the reins,;
and do not whip me when going up!
hill. Never strike, beat or kick me
when I do not understand what you
want.but give me a cbence to under-'
stand you. Watch me; and if 1 fail j
to do your bidding, see if something
is not wrong with nay harness or feet.
Do not check me so that 1 cannot
have the free U9e of head. If you j
insist that I wear blinders, so that I >
cannot see behind me as it was in-,
tended I should. I pray you to be j
careful that the blinders sta?id we'l;
out from my eyes.
Do not overload me, or hitch me
where water will drip on me. Keep j
me well shod. Examine my teeth
when I do not eat; 1 mny have an
ulcerated tooth, and that, you know, j
is very painful. Do not tie my head
in an unnatural position, or take
away my best defense ?/ainst flies
and mosquitoes by cutting off my I
tail.
I cannot tell you wnen 1 am thirsty.
so tove me deaj. cool water
often. Save me. by all means in
your power, from fatal disease?the
glanders. ? cannot tell
you in words when I am watch
me, that by signs you may Know my I
condition. Give me all possible
shelter from the hot sun and put a
blanket on me, not whe-i I an working
but when I am standing in the
cold. Never put a fros .; bit in my
mouth; first warm it by holding it a
moment in your hands.
I try to carry you and your burdens
without a murmur, and wait
patiently for you long hours of the
day or night. Without the power to
choose my shoes or path, I sometimes
fall on the hard pavements
which I have often prayed might
? not be of wood but of such a nature
aa to give a safe and sure footing.
Bemembe: that I must be ready at
any moment to lose my life in your
service.
And finally, 0 my master, when
my useful strength is gone, do not
turn me out to starve or freeze, or
sell me V4> some cruel owner, to be
slowly t rtured and starved to death;
bat do tliou, nay master, take my
- - * - - - _ .1
life in the kindest way, ana your
God will reward you here and hereafter.
You will not consider me irreverent
if 1 ask this in the name of
Him wno was born in a stable.
Amen.?Progressive Farmer.
?
HORSES DIE FROM STAMPEDING.
Many Die Daily at Camp Jackson
From Pneumonia.
Camp Jackson has experienced a
tremedous loss of valuable horses in
consequence of the stampede one
night last week when 1,000 of the
ani mals tore through the corrals and i
scattered widely over Richland county.
Whether all have been recover-1
ed can not be determined.
A couple of thousand others did
not break through the stockades
that night, hut having become nervous
from the stampede of the other
orrnnn miilfvi all nieht. Bonfiers
and every other known device to
check the frightened animals in their
mad career through their corrals
were resorted to without avail. The
horses ran in circles throughout the
night In censeq lence hundreds of
the horses immediately developed
acute pneumonia. An average of
about 20 have died daily since the
stampede and 700 very sick animals
are now bein>r treated at the veterinary
hospital ?The State.
\
Sac# Oils! Seed Oats! JO'/5
Red Rust-Proof Seed Oats at lowest
prices for cash. Bring your wagon
and carry back a load of Seed Oats.
9-27-tf Odom & Dennis.
Wbeoever You Need a Qeoeral Toole
Take Grove's
The Old Standard Grove's Tasteless
chill Tonic is equally valuable as a
General Ton:c because H contains the
well known tonic properties of QUI NIN E
and IRON. It acts on the Liver, Drive.'
eat Malaria, Enriches the Blood anc
up the Whole System. SO cents
a >.
v A
\
' A
Conjuring
With Cupid i
A Plan That Produced the Defired
Result
By CLARISSA MACKIE.
"It if, purely a business arrangement,"
said Mr. Ashbee, the lawyer,
pecking at his desk blotter with a
penholder. "Your Cousin Nahum
merelv desired to reunite two
brancleo of hi9 family which had
long been separated by a senseles*
feud. It is only a matter of circumstance
that you, Miss Cedelia,
and your cousin many times removed,
Oliver Craig, are the last members
of your respective families, and
you cannot overcome the fact that
Xahum Meade left a perfectly valid
will, and you cannot evade the responsibility
he has placed upon you
in making you half owner of the
Meade Boiler works."
Cedelia Meade listened impatiently
to the lawyer's prosy discourse.
When he had concluded her red lips
parted in protest.
''Suppose both are dissatisfied?"
demanded Couclia.
"Then the entire estate goes to
the Railroad hospital," said the lawyer
bluntly.
"What a bother to be poor," sighed
Cedelia. "and have to rccept such
unreasonable terms'! Vith all due
respect to ray Lousra i^anam, wnom
I never set eyes upon, it seems to me
that he was more deeply concerned
in reuniting estranged branches of
his family than he was in the actual
good his money might do. Fm
tired of teaching -school, and the
idea oi a long vacation appeals to
me, but I much prefer the sound of
surf breaking on the ocean's shore
than to listen to the noises in a boiler
factory."
"Mi. Meade had his peculiarities,
and tu;s letter of personal instructions,
of which a copy has gone to
Oliver Oreig, outlines his most flagrant
one." Mr. Ashbee gave Cedelia
a folded paper, and while
she read it he retired behind a newspaper,
as if for protection from the
storm that might follow.
There was an ominous calm on
Cedelia's side of the room, and when
the little lawyer dared peep around
his paper fortification he 6aw Miss
Meade sitting pale and wide eyed
and oTf>opdinorlv wrathful and JV) he
dodged back again out of sight.
"The very idea," breathed Cede!ia
at last?"the very idea of Cousin
Yahum embodying such a restriction
in this matter? You know the
contents of this letter, I suppose,
Mr. Ashbee?"
Mr. Ashbee lowered the newspaper
and bowed his head. iCi read it
after Mr. Meade had written it," he
acknowledged.
"He could not have been in his
right mind to thus insult somebody
whom he had never even seen."
And then, referring to the letter,
Cedelia quoted scornfully: " In case
a marriage should be arranged be
? o - v
twecn my estimable cousins, and
there is no reason to believe that
this might not happen even if they
meet each other for the first time
amid the din of their boiler factor},
then, and only then, may they dispose
of the factor}' property. Otherwise
the property must be worked to
the best advantage, and in the event
of the death of either or both of the
legatees the property will pass into
the possession of the railroad hospital.
But because I feel positive
that Cupid is hidden in that boiler
factory I am making a special bequest
to the Railroad hospital.'"
After Ceaolia had taken her stately
self awd}T from the lawyer's office
Mr. Ashboe humped himself over
some neglected papers and smiled
grimlv. "I told Xahum Meade that
- ?'-?- -u i L-i 1:1._
a crusxy oiu uucueiur uac uiuibcu ?
had better not conjure with love or |
Cupid or anything of that sort. Let j
well enough alone, I say, and I
ought to know \** Mr. Ashbee was |
a baebelor, too, and knew whereof
he spoke.
There came a glorious October
morning when OcutVa Meade was j
obliged to take her plate as treasur-1
er of the Meade Boiler works. A j
handsome private office was assigned j
to her by the obsequious superin <vn<toTi+
\fr .lamoc xrhrt flRsnrpd hp*
that it was Nahum Meade's own
6nnctum and had been reserved for
her use by Oliver Craig, who had
been elected president of the company
ar a meeting where Cedelia
was represented by Mr. Ashbee.
Cedelia removed her hat and
gloves and sat down in a giddily
revolving chair before the great mahogany
desk. A row of electric push
buttons were ranged beside her
desk. Over each one was a tiny
card bearing the name of some slave
of the button who would appear if
she touched it. "Miss Smith"?
that would be the typewriter girl;
"Mr. James," the superintendent;
"Willie"?that must be the office
boy who was diligently reading the
morning paper outside her door.
Cedelia's head ached, and the din
and clamor of the riveters resounded
across the big yard that divided
the office building from the foundry.
She was surveying the framed photographs
of Meade locomotive boilers
that hung on the buff tinted
walls when there came a tap at her
door.
"Come in," she said.
The door opened and admitted a
man tall as Cedelia was herself. He
? J.V. i?j --i.
was uie xiauusuiucsi, imm vcucuu
had ever seen, with a strong, intellectual
face lighted by deep gray
eyes. In turn he gazed at Cedelia,
who happened to be the most beautiful
young woman he had looked
upon, and as he parted his lips to
address her there fell upon the air
the most horrible din imaginable.
It sounded as though hundreds
of riveters were banging away at a
score of boilers, and probably that
was the case. Speech was impossible,
and Cedelia put pretty white
hands up to her snocked ears, and
the stranger's handsome brows knitted
in a frown.
Suddenly it stopped. "I am"?
began the stranger, but the noise
began again and drowned his words.
Three times his voice was lost in the
chaos of sound, and then, when the
two of them stood helplessly laughing
at each other, the din ceased.
"We must put a stop to this sort
UI ill iuc man ucuuvuj^.
"Then you must be Mr. Craig,''
said Cedelia, holding out her hand
and quite forgetting all about the
Meade-Craig feud.
"I am, Mi6s Meade, and I dropped
in to see how the treasurer is getting
along. If there is anything I can
do to help you along?but I'm afraid
I don't know much about it myself
?so there!"
"I don't know anything and I confess
I haven't the slightest desire
to," remarked Cedelia. "What does
a schoolma'am know about making
boilers ?"
"What does a poet know?" complained
Oliver Craig.
"A poet ? Are you a poet T* asked
Cedelia, interested at once.
He smiled ruefully. "My friends
say so, but my enemies declare it is
not true."
"Oliver Craig?Oliver Craig?ah,
Oliver Craigland! That is the name
you use?" Cedelia sat up suddenly,
her cheeks very pinK, ner Drown
eyes shining with delight. As he
nodded assent she continued: "Oh,
what are you doing here when you
can write such beautiful verse? The
world needs all of such poetry that
you can write!"
"Thank you. That is the sincerest
praise I have ever received/' he
said earnestly. "Funny idea, isn't
it?that of a poet working in a boiler
factory?"
"When they had stopped laughing
Cedelia and Oliver Craig had a serious
conversation, the result of which
was that both the president and the
treasurer of the Meade Boiler works
decided to employ competent private
secretaries who, under the tutelage
of the very efficient Mr. James,
might take the cares of office from
their unofficial hands.
Thus the business went on in its
methodical, conservative manner,
losing nothing, gaining notning. Cedelia
was at her desk each day, conferring
with her secretary, learning
a little more about boilermaking and
hating it intensely.
One June morning, when, even
into the boiler foundry there crept a
imell of summer weather, Oliver
Craig strode into Cedelia's office,
dismissed the astonished secretary
and closed the door.
"Cedelia." he said, taking her
hand9 in his, "I love yon. Will jou
marry me and sell the boiler shop
and come with me to Arcady ? It is
June/' he pleaded. <rWill you
come ?"
Before Cedelia could answer there
arose that frightful din from the
foundry. She said something in reply,
but Oliver could not hear. Then
she looked at him with her loving
eyes and in spite cf the clamor of
boilers, Oliver had his answer.
Scanty Ammunition.
Colonel Stark's regiment just
prior to the battle of Bunker Hill
was quartered at Milford, some four
miles distant, and was destitute of
ammunition. About 10 o'clock on
the morning he received ordere to
march, however, each man received
a gill cupful of powder, fifteen balls
and one flint. As the mnskets were
of varying caliber it was necessary
to reduce the size of the balls for
many of them.?Magarine of American
History.
Some Quid*
"You have been here a long time,
I suppose," said a pompous liiglioh
traveler to an old hunter in Oregon,
who had been acting as his guide.
"You bet I have," said the hunter
and then, pointing to Mount Hood,
he continued: "You see that mountain
there? Well, sir, when I first
came to this, country that mountain
was a hole in the ground."?Pittsburgh
Chronicle Telegraph.
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continue it as an A
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This new fir:
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Mitchell WS
Sgfr A complete 1:
in stock at our stoi
standard cars.
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MA" MA NiATMAJMXLMATMAT
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inounci
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Lutomobile Accessory
with a general aut
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lotor Sales (
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PSON, Manager.
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