The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, June 03, 1891, Image 1
"Be Just and Fear not-Lret all the Ends tis?? Awas't at, tse thy Country's, tay Goff's ??d Truth's" THE TRUE SODTHROK, Egtabiianed june, 12?<S
Cwselldated Aug. 2, 1881.1 SUMTER. S. P., WEDNESDAY. JUNE g, 1891.
April. 1850.
Sew Series-Tal. X- So. 44.
?-wi-MUM imyii ninr.
$?t S?iait|K3JI an?r jsoiiiJjrflB.
tr
N* Gr. ?STEEN,
SUMTER, S. C.
TBKXS:
:1
??o Dollars per annum-in ad
ADV tar ISt M I ST?.
Ose Sanare, first iwwrtk^ -"",",." .fi oo
K rory subsequent icaertion..^...^. 5C
All cottmtmieatiotis which suhserre private
tsterests will be charged for asadrer tiseaaents.
Obi ta ance aod tri rm tee of respect will be
.tarted for.
REMOVAL
--AND
NEW
To aooomittodafeNmy
increased and increasing busi?
ness, I have removed to the
handsome and commodious new
Brick Store next to John Reid's,
opposite my old stand, where i
cn* sow be found withastock of
DIAMONDS,
Watches, Clocks, Jewelry,
Silver and Flated Ware,
SPECTACLES, &c
surpassing in brilliancy, extent
and variety any stock of the
kind ever shown in this city,
with dally additions of new at?
tractions,
Thanking my friends and the public
generally for the very liberal patronage
ieatowed on SM at sir old stand, I aspe,
to merit a continuasse of tl? same, tnd j
I hereby extest to afl * eordia? iovita-|
tion to pay me a rick at ?ty new stand,
where, with a Urger stsoe?c sad increased |
facilities in every way I soi better pre?
pared tass ever to eater to their wants.
Don't forget the plane,
REID'S BLOCK, MAIN ST.,
SUMTER, S. C.
Yous, anxious to please,
L. W. FOLSOM.
Every tiling ta the one of repairing done as
heretofore. Oct 8
H. A. HOY1?,
Successor to
?. I. BOTT * BRO.
friid asd ?Iver Watches,
^ I ; rare DIAMONDS.
' BRITANIA 8ILYKRW ARB, *c
A SPECIALTY.
Never broken
-Kabo. The ^bones" in the
Kabo corset are made of it
-warranted for a year, too.
It's a corset you caa wear
a few weeks, and then get
your money back if it
doesn't suit.
But it's pretty sure to suit
-else it wouldn't be sold so.
J.RYTTEBf BERG Sc SONS.
HOLMAN & LEMASTBL
CONTRACTORS AND BUILDERS.
SUMTER, S. C.
TJJ74LL MAKE BIDS OK ANY WORK
Vf 'in Qty or Cou Qty T and will do all
work with despatch ead io beat of work
ataaship. ..
'Gilt* by mail or otherwise reapoadtd to
Ceaoeioo?d at pr?sent at boild
;.wf OaAwtaStrnt.
BL Rr HOLMAN,
G. E. LaMASTBR.
NOTICE.
'INTSHOP TRAINING SCHOOL for
teachers, Colombia, S. C. Thorough
instruction and practice io beat metb
teacbiec. ! Open to girls over 18 years
Graduates are entitled ts teach ia the
of Soots Carolina as firat grade teach
They readily secure positions in this
Stats*. Each County is given two
lips-cae bj the State, worth $150 :
by the School, worth $30. Cosspet
az^OHoatiaa for these scholarships will
ia each County, Thursday, Jmij 2.
D. ? JOHNSON,
Saptrioteadeot, Col o ?bia, S C.
JU* lat C*tiiojoc
M NASHVILLE, TOift
TBK SHOWS NATIONAL BASK,
OF SUMTER.
STATE, CITY AND COUNTY DEPOSI?
TORY, SUMTER, S. C.
Paid ap Capital.$75,000 00
Surplus Fund. 9,250 00
Transacts a General Banking Business.
Careful attention given to collections.
SAYINGS DEPARTMENT.:
^Deposits of $1 arrd upwards received. In
fisrest allowed at the rate of 4 per cent, per
Payable quarterly, on first days of
January, April July and October.
R. M. WALLACE,
Vice President.
L. S. CABSOK,
Avg. 7 Cashier.
THE BM (f SUTER,
SUMTER, S C.
CITY AND COUNT* DEPOSITORY.
. Transacts a general Banking business.
Also bas
A Savings Bank Department
Deposits of $1.00 and upwards received.
Interest calculated at the rate of 4 per cent,
per annum, payable quarterly.
W. F. B. HAYNSWORTH,
A. WHITE, JB., President.
Cashier.
Aug?._
Tutf s Pills
Is an invaluable remedy for
SICK HEADACHE. TORPID
WER, DYSPEPSIA. PILES,
MALARIA, COSTIVENESS,
MD ALL BILIOUS DISEASES.
Sold JBf t<rjr wheres
Castella
For Infant? and Children. .
Cantoris* promote* Digestion, and
overcomes Flafcllency, Constipation, Sour
Stomach, Diarrbces; and Feverishness.
Thus the child is rendered healthy and its
sleep samarai. Caatoria. contains no
jfjorphine or other narcotic property.
?.Casioria. ls so well adapted to children that
1 recommeed it aa superior to any prescription
known tt> me.1* BL A. ATHKB, H. D.,
m South Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. T.
"I cse Caatoria in my poetice.and find it
apecSa?y adapted to affection? of children."
Aux. ROBXXTSOX, H. D
1057 3d Ave-, New York.
"From personal knowledge and observation
I can ?av teat Castoria is an excellent medicine
tor chfld*eo, acting as a laxative and relieving;
the pent np bowels and general system very
much. Many mothers nave told me of its ex?
cadent effect upon their children."
JJa, G" C. Oeoooix,
LoweQ,
CBS CaxTAUB COMPACT, 77 Murray Street, N. Y.
BB. I HU SOLOMONS,
DENTIST.
Office
OVER BROWNS A PURDYS- STORE.
Entrance on Main Street,
Between Browns 4 Purdy and Durant k Son.
OFFICE HOURS:
9 to 1.30; 2 to 5 o'clock.
Sumter, S. C, April 29._
Qt. W. BICK, D D. S.
Office over Bogia's New Store,
BBTBABCS OH MAIH STSJtHT
SUMTER, S. C.
Office Hour?.-8 to 1:30 ; 2:30 to 5.
SeptS_
Dr. Tc We BOOKHABT,
DENTAL SURGEON.
Office over Bul trnan k Bro.'a Shoe Store.
ENTRANCE OH MAIN STEHT.
SUMTER, S. C.
Office Hoon-9 to 1:30 ; 2:30 to 5.
Apri|J7-o__
an COTS ANO FARMING
. LANDS FOB SALL
VT7E HAVE ON HAND more than 200
f f business, and residence lots, many of
toe latter improved, for sale on easy terras.
Those wanting lots would do weil to consult
us before buying, and those having property
tn city or country for sale are requested to
place same in eur hands and we will find
purchasers.
W. A BOWMAN, k
W. H. INGRAM,
May 21 Real Estate Brokers k Agents.
FOR SALE, CHEAP.
SEVERAL FINE BUILDING LOTS ON
Calboon aad Republican Street?, near
my residence and residence of Capt. John
Reid. A rare chance to buy a home.
Lots all high and dry and very desirable.
Terms easy. Immediate possession given.
For full particulars call on, or address
D. J. WINN.
, gBBrter, S. C., Nor. 26, 1890.
WRIGHT'S HOTEL,
COLUMBIA, S. C.
THIS NEW AND ELEGANT HOUSE
with all modern improvements, is noa
open for the reception of gnests.
S. L. WRIGHT k SON,
Proprietors.
RUBBER STAMPS*
NAME SI AMPS FOR MARK IM 6 CLQTH?N6
with indelible ink,, or for printing visiting
cards, and
STAMPS OF ANY KIND
for stamping BUSINESS CARDS, ENVEL?
OPES ur say thing else. Specimen* of varions
styles on band, which will be shown with pleas
are. The LOWEST PRICES possible, and
orders filled promptly.
Call on N. G. OSTEEN, Jnr
At the Watebnean aad Southron Office
Sumter S. O
CITY LOTS
FOR SALE.
NORTHWEST SIDE.
KANGING IN PRICES FROM $150
to $45* each. Size 50 to 80 feet front
by 175 to 200 feet deep.
Beautifully located in the healthiest part of
the City-a large number of them
S feet higher than at the intersection of Maio
and Liberty strew.
Terms, one-third cash, balance i> one and
two ycacs. Apply to
JNO. S. HUGHSON.
A. S. BROWN.
W. A. BROWS.
Match 4-3D?
By AUGUSTA LAMED.
?Copjrijfht, 1981, by American Press Associa?
tion.]
CHAPTER L
She twr* made happy by bclnn allowed to
fasten them to thc young lady's invitee
It was a warm June morning, and
birds caroled in the tall elms along
Grove street Housemaids were opening
parlor shutters or sweeping off verandas
with a snatch of song on the lips, and that
peculiar flirt of the broom that betokens
fine weather and a light heart. The
milkman's wild cry was expiring at one
end of the long street just as the news?
boy^ shrill yell broke the silence at toe
other. Shadows lay cool on the brown
road, and the town gardens exhaled their
sweetest odors.
It was just at this moment that Mrs.
Northup's lodger turned into Grove
street on her way io the postoffice. Mrs.
Ncrthup's house was not on Grove street
There were no such humble little houses,
with a garden the size of a pockethanTJ
kerchief and a bit of drying: lawn at the
back, on that fashionable thoroughfare.
All the dwellers on Grove street were
carriage people, with ample incomes and
everything handsome about them. Mrs.
Northrup was only the wife of a conduct?
or on the Appledale line, with a salary
of less than a thousand a year. Her
house stood in Ford's alley, and tho bit
of garden above mentioned abutted on
the railway, so that thc house was shaken
by passing trains many times a day.
The alley was filled with small mechan?
ics' houses and stables, and was not a
conspicuously clean little street, and the
nearness of the main line, where day and
night the trains whizzed past, and steam
whistles emitted unearthly shrieks,
made it not an ideal country residence.
But Mrs. Northup's house was a shin?
ing oasis amid the litter and disorder of
Ford's alley. Northup was what the
neighbors called a snug man, fond of
delving in his garden during his spare
time, and with an inherent streak of
neatness, much furthered by Mrs. North
up's good management As Northup was
away much of the time and there was
only one child. Margery, a quiet little
maid, of five, Mrs. Northup let two of
her rooms to lodgers. It was the new
lodger who had the west corner room
Mrs. Northup gazed after now, as she
walked away toward the turning of
Grove street A reserved, quiet young
girl, Mrs. Northup could make nothing
of her, and the expression on the good
woman's face was puzzled and dissatis?
fied.
Miss March seemed always to l>e writ?
ing, and the landlady when she looked
into her room saw her lodger's dark head
bent over a table covered with papers
between her and the li'ght But Mrs.
Northup bad confided that morning to
John, while iu the act of shaving, that
tlie new lodger, though she kept so close
and said notliing about her folks and
never made free with anybody, was a
perfect lady. Though she had been in
the house a month, John Northup had
only caught sight of the young lady two
or three times as she passed in and out of
the little garden gate, but his wife had
imparted to him all her ideas concerning
the new lodger, until he felt a mys ten?
ons respect for this giri-as if her pres?
ence ia his household had raised the
standing of his family in Littlefields
"Pays her rent right on the nail," said
his wife, as she served his breakfast, **and
has got a brother at college named Will?
ard. There aro only two of them in
the world, and she expects Willard to do
great things. I mistrust she is helping pay
Willard's way by her writing, and don't
let him know what a struggle she has to
live and keep soul and body together,
poor thing. Do you know, John, 1 wake
up in the night and think about that girl
sometimes. I've noticed marks of crying
round her eyes, and it's been borne in
on me she is very poor."
"You always was soft hearted, rielly,"
the laconic John responded, as he took
ms hat to go to the station.
On thi-j fine June morning ilrs. North?
up watched Miss March as she went
down the alley-a tall, slender young
girl, with abundant brown hair and
large gray eyes.
"She's got style," thought Mrs. North?
up, 'if her dresses are poor, sleasy stuff,
all black and without a frill or phut. 1
never could get my dresses to set like
hers anyway whatever. Bot it's her fig
ger, I guess. Yes, she has got a beauti?
ful hgger, and I am dumpy, and always
was. And the becomingness of that
black hat of hers, without ever a plume
or an artificial, is something wonderful.
I do hope she'll get a letter today with
good news. Sometimes I think 1 can tell
by the way she steps whether the right
kind of a letter has come."
Miss March went slowly up ??rove
street toward the center of the town
breathing the early morning freshness
She, V>o, was thinking of the letter or no
letter that lay at the end of her walk to
the iwfttoffice with a kind of shivery
dread, half hoping it would not be there,
that the matter might still hang in
doubt, and the fatal day be put off to
give her courage to go on with the work.
She walked very slowly up tho street,
lingering like a truant schoolboy who
dreads the feruling he is sure to get at
last If only the letter should not be
there the chances would seem brighter.
She had dreamed the night before of a
ship sailing before the wind. A bad
sign. But now a flock of pigeons came
over from the right of Holder's pigeon
cotes, three black and two white. How
superstitious she had grown!" What a
poor, feeble minded creature! And she
almost laughed aloud at her folly.
Miss March was not a very strong
minded young woman, I am sorry to say.
She put considerable faith in a number
of foolish little signs and omens. She
did not like to see the-new moon over her
left shoulder, or to pass under a ladder,
or to break a looking glass. With an
imaginative teni per she had au instinct?
ive belief in presentiments. Now, the
little cold shudder that ran djowni her
spine betokened bad news, and ft
walked dejectedly into the post?me
The clerk at tbe window knew her fa
and gave her a glance of recognition
he poshed ont a large, bulky envelop
Miss March's hand trembled ta si
reached it forth, and there was a terri h
sinking sensation, as if her young lim
liad suddenly given way and refused
sustain her. She thrust the sad, teilta
packet into the pocket of her gown, as
afraid the loungers about the postofiL
might guess that her story had been r
jected. "Poor Willie! poor Willie!" si
kept saying to herself. Never aga
would she doubt the truth of present
menta.
She hardly knew how she got throng
the long passage to the street or dow
the steps without falling, things look(
so dark to her young eyes, and a feelir
of despair was in her heart. The mon
ing sun had mounted higher and w.
casting down broad waves of stearx
neat The smell of the J uno roses in tl
gardens made her faint She made
long detour on the way home, not kno\
ing just where she was going, carele
of the crossings and turnings, but wit
an inward necessity of keeping on h<
feet She passed the little bake shop ut
heeding where she was accustomed t
buy her breakfast rolls; for the walk 1
the postoffice was taken before the mon
ing meal, and on har return she habitt
ally fired up her little oil stove, boile
water for her coffee and cooked an egg.
But now all thought of breakfast ha
gone out of her head with the total d<
parture of appetite. She wandered aloof
feeling nothing but the acuteness of h<
disappointment, that sent a coldnei
through her limbs and made her finget
chilly until she woke up out of th;
blackness of darkness, this dumb an
{ tearless misery, to find herself in a poo;
ill smelling part of the Irish quartei
j where the untidy houses stood close t<
1 gether, and children with bare feet an
I unwashed faces were hanging about th
doors. Among these stood a tin}' cottag
with white curtains and morning glor
vines at the windows, and in front
neat bed of nasturiums and scarlet gi
raniums. The Yankee thrift of the littl
house was in such marked contrast t
the other tenements in which it wa
I bedded. Miss March glanced at it wit
I a feeble ray of interest A tall, thi;
I old woman in faded double gown an?
slippers, with long, gray curls, was on
in the yard watering her plants an
plucking away the dead leaves. A cei
tain gentility and elegance, an air of ol<
fashioned grace and good breeding clun?
to the old lady's figure, and printed it
image on Edith's memory. For a mo
ment the trouble seemed to melt awa;
from her heart, and she turned her step
dejectedly tow;ird Ford's alley.
Mrs. Northup, that discerning woman
had been L king out for her youni
lodger. She saw her approach, and sait
to herself: "She's had a blow of som
kind, poor thing. She looks perfectly
beat down and discouraged." The land
lady's ample person filled the doorway
; and her broad smile hiul a ray of warm tl
j and human kindness.
I "Come right in and breakfast with me,'
j was the greeting she gave to Edith
! "You look tired and warm from youl
walk, and Margery will lie so glad t<
have you eat with us. I never saw i
child that loved company as she does
Northpp bad to get off on the early rm
and \fe are just sitting down. Then
are plenty of strawberries, and 1 hav<
made a fresh cup of coffee."
Miss March could not resist her land
lady's pleading. She went languidh
into the neat little dining room, when
the table was set out with its suowj
doth. The fatal package ia her pockel
weiglied like lead, and she suspected
Mrs. Northup of having detected its pres?
ence through tije folds of her gown.
Margery came from the garden, and
sidled np to Miss March with a bunch
of old fashioned cinnamon roses in her
hand, and was made happy by being
allowed to fasten them to the young
lady's bodice.
"I never did see Margery take to any?
.vvly as she has to you," said the proud
mother. "I hope you got good news,
miss, from your brother."
"No, I did not'hear from him today.
BL) is up at Tauierack camp, in the North
Woods, and several miles from a post
office."
"I guess he don't know how han! you
work and how late you sit up nights.
You are looking real pale and worn, as 1
say to Northup; for you know, miss,
folks can't live together in the same
house like sticks and stones. They have
eyes, and hearts, too. I hope."
Mis3 March received this suggestive
little dig from lier landlady with liecoui
ing meekness.
"You are mistaken, Mrs. Northup. 1
am very strong and enduring. I have
always been the healthy one of our fam?
ily, and there is no danger of my break?
ing down. It is my brother Willard who
is delicate. His chest Ls weak and he is
a great student It is his desire to be a
geologist, and with such a turn as he has
for ii ?it ural science ic would be a shaine
for him to waste his life at some uncon?
genial business, lt was all my doing
that he took his post graduate coarse at
the scientific school."
"But if he knew, Miss March, how
you are slaving to keep him there, how
you hardly give yourself time to eat or
take a walk. I cruess he would nor 1*?
easy in his mind. Northup thinks so,
too, and he is a mao of uncommon sense
and observation."
.Don't say that, Mrs. Northup; he
don't know;" and then she stopped,
troubled and embarrassed, and looked
down at her plate.
.Then yon ain't a-giving him his edu?
cation," said Mrs. Northnp, heaping
fresh strawberries on her lodger's plate.
She was a generous giver, but she felt
she had a right to a fair equivalent for
her gifts in her lodger's confidence.
The COIOT, whether of indignation or
embarrassment, rosed the )-oung lady's
neck and cheeks and touched the tips of
her beautiful ears. " We were left with a
little property,; she said in a constrained
voice. 'Our poor father was very un?
fortunate in his last years, but there
was a small snm remaining, and rt was
placed in the hands of our guardian."
Miss March reserved the fact that the
said guardian had invested the little
patrimony in wildcat stock, and there
was iio? a penny left She liad token
the greatest pain? to conceal this fact
from li**r young briber, and why should
?lie confide it to her landlady?
.Oh." said the landlady, deliberately
stirring. \vv coffee, "then you don't keep
him at college. Northup* and me bad
taken the notion into-our heads that you
was e<bleating yowr brother by your
writing*-slaving away for good and all
to keep him supplied---but if you have
only yourself to look out for its different,
of cows*-. 1 should like to know," and
Mrs. Nott lvn-p settled back in her chair
prepared to put a leading question^
.*whvthi-r there's raruch money to be
made in writing for newspapers and
magazines,'"
*1 never thought of it m that light,"
said h??SS March slowly, as she crumbled
a Wt of bread on- her plate. "Thea 1
suppose you write to getf your name in
print, or just to pass the time:"
*No, nor that either," in a faint voice
"I had to do something. "
"Well, do you know there was a marc
named Sparks who" lodged with me
three years ago. He used to get up comic
pieces for some paper out west, and?
mercy mel how he did work at these
jokes. Sometimes he would come down
stairs into the kitchen where 1 was baking
or ironing, and say she, 'Miss Northup,
Tm stuck. 1 can't thinl of anything
today but funerals and graveyards and
executions if my life depended. Of all the
gol dong trades any man ever too ku p, this
writing for comic newspapers is worst'
"Sometimes I'd hear him walking the
floor, a-tearing his hair to raise a joke
It was dreadful, I can tell you. I guess
on the whole I'd rather keep lodgers.
One month he would have his pockets
full of money, and the next not a cent
to bless himself. Poor Sparks, Tm afraid
he was a little too fond of the bottle
But I got the impression that writing for
a living was a pretty poor trade."
"You're quite right. Airs. Northup.
Thank you so much for this nice break?
fast,** and Miss March rose and went to
her room It was an attic chamber of
; fair size, under a long sloping roof, with
three small windows so placed that there
were only gleams of sky and clouds and
tree tops and flitting birds to be had,
while a bumble bee or a yellow jacket
buzzed in and out of the open casement
screened by muslin curtains. The writ?
ing table stood under one of these open
windows, with the narrow bed opposite,
and all the furnishings were scant 2nd
plain. A few photographs and sketches
were pinned about the roughly plastered
wall. An arrangement of wild flowers
and vines in a broken nosed pitcher
filled one corner nook, and Miss March's
scanty supply of gowns hung under a
carico curtain. The lame dressing table
was propped with a block of wood, and
before it was spread a breadth of faded
carpet In a corner cupboard were a few
dishes-two cracked teacups and a tin
of dry soda crackers. The little oil stove
stood on a deal table, where Miss March
cooked her little meals. All was neat,
trim and virginal, for as Mrs. Northup
surmised, Edith March was a lady, and
had been reared in a well appointed
home.
Now the girl threw down her hat and
gloves, locked the door, and falling prone
on her little bed, face down, began to
sob in all the bitterness of her unspeak?
able disappointment and anguish of souL
What a fool she had been to undertake
to keep Willie at college by the earn?
ings of her inexperienced peni A few
things in the early months of her career
had been accepted, well paid for and
praised. She had made a great and pro?
longed effort to produce something bet?
ter, had half starved herself and burnt
the midnight oil, and now it had been
flung back to her from the magazine
that had taken her first story, and kind
hearted but meddlesome and officious
Mrs. Northup had shown her what an
idiot she was to hope to succeed in a
career where many wiser and better
equipped had failed.
?be sobbed herself into a k ind of calm,
and then she remembered she must
brace up Willard with a cheerful letter.
Poor boy, with his weak chest and
natural habit of looking on the dark
side of things, he needed a deal of brac?
ing. She arose with red and swollen
eyes, brushed back her tumbled hair,
and felt the thick, dreadful packet still
burning in the pocket of her gown.
Now it was drawn forth and the seal
was broken. Yes, it wa? her poor re?
jected story; but instead of the heartless,
cold blooded printed slip saying "the
return of a MS. does not necessarily im?
ply lack of merit or unfitness for publi?
cation," a typewritten letter from the
editor fell into her lap not unkindly
worded.
"Your story," it said, "shows marks
of hurried composition. It is crude in
parts and lacks literary finish. But the
plot is a good one and capable of expan?
sion. If you are willing to rewrite it,
carefully eliminating at least one-half of
the adjectives and reconstructing the
sentences I have marked, and if you
choose to expand it to twice its present
size, I will then consider whether I cnn
accept it for our magazine, which is now
publishing a complete novelette in each
number. I do not, however, pledge my?
self to anything until I have re-examined
the MS."
The letter was brief, curt and business?
like, but on the whole reassuring. A
ripple of girlish laughter escaped from
Edith's lips. In her wild revulsion of
feeling she dashed the tears from her
eyes and kissed the typewritten sheet
half frantically. What a charming man
that editor must be! What a friend and
lover of his kind! She pictured him
white haired and benevolent looking,
with girls of his own whom he tenderly
kissed every morning before going to his
office. She flew dancing and skipping
round the room, her eyes bright with
excitement, for she had not completely
failed after all. There was a crumb of
hope left, and being young and ardent
Edith could live on very small crumbs of
that divine aliment
CHAPTER IL *
Gently raised her head from thc ground.
Mrs. Northup had heard her wild pi
rouette, which came near oversetting the
oil stove, and wondered if, like poor
Sparks, she was tearing her hair for an
idea. But the landlady had liad suffi?
cient experience with literary lodgers
not to be surprised by unusual moises.
Now Edith could write that lotter she
had so much dreaded to? brace np Willie,
and it would not be necessary to tell
more than half the usual number of
white- lies, which was comforting to a
girl of her high1 monti principle. Willie
was fretting at his enforced idleness
while his sister slaved to support herself.
If he liad known how she had taken the
double burden on her shoulders! But
happily he did not know, for she. had
sworn their guardian to secrecy and.
silence.
""Dearest Willie," she began, "how I
wish you were here in my pleasant room!"
(Not a word abou? the attic chamber
close to the railroad.) *'But as I cannot
havu you hen? I must content myself
with a confidential chat on paper. I
lol ag fainottely in my new quarters
am in tremendous spirits. Mrs. North,
i my landlady, is kindness itself. 1 br<
fasted with her this morning, and
talked about you. My room has three \
dows." (Not a word about their hei?,
precluding a view of anything bu
three cornered bit of sky and the to]
a pear tree.) "ft is a capital place to ti
and write in. I hope to have some sp
j did" (underlined) "news for you sc
for I have great expectations. Litllef
is a lovely town, and I take a little w
J along its shady streets every mom
j before breakfast The society is of
best"-(Poor girl, she had not spoken 1
soul except her landlady and the po
clerk)-"a great many nice young peo;
and there are numerous picnics, la
tennis and archery parties. You km
dear Will, how I enjoy these thin?.
(May Heaven forgive her.) "There
beautiful forest, called Deepdene pa
where I walk nearly ever}* fine ?fl
\ noon. You would be charmed with
Littlefield librar}-, so well arrang
with an admirable selection of bool
(Fib number three; Miss March had :
? been able to subscribe.) "On tbewh<
dear Will, you must think of me on
very top wave, with everything love
Don't worry about me, dear old boy, 1
get all the good you can out of
mountains. I can see you now, w
your specimen bag slung over y<
shoulder, making the rocks resound w
yonr geological hammer. Oh, Will
am so prend of you, and when I thi
you are all I have in the world to 1
for I can't tell you how my heart swe
with thankfulness. Do take care
yourself, and avoid wetting your fi
and exposure of all kinds. I am v<
happy over my prospects, but I don't
tend to count my chickens before tb
are hatched."
"There," thought Edith, as she fold
her letter, "I hope I haven't overdone
Will is awfully sharp at detecting
false note. Dear me, how many lies 1
do have to tell to get through life ?
cently! I hope I shall be forgiven on t
ground of good intentions."
Will's letter out of the way, Edi
turned with breathless eagerness to t
revision and expansion of her story,
was more of a job than she had count
on and virtually involved rewriting t
whole. But Edith did not flinch. S
had plenty of good days' work in her ai
her soul wa~ resolute. One o'clock, t\
o'clock caine. The strong western sn
shine was flooding her high windows ai
heating the long shingled roof, direct
underneath which she sat, to the ter
perature of a rolling mill Edith h?
not paused to eat, and suddenly the rai
way trains began to rush through b
brain and the written line? to swim b
fore her eyes. She was faint from hu:
ger, for she had eaten nothing since eig]
and now it was nearly four. She pushi
away the pile of MS. and went to ransa<
her cupboard for something to sustai
life. She found only a quarter of a cu
tard pie she had bought at the baker
the previous day, a few hard cracke:
and a pickle. She would make herself
cup of tea: but on lifting the oil can si
found it empty, so she must be contei
with the pie and pickle, washed dow
with a glass of tepid water.
It was necessary to get out of her f u:
nace of a room, for she felt tho though!
flying about in her brain like mott
round a candle. She was dead tire
after her bout of writing seven hours o
a stretch, and nothing would rest he
but a ramble in Deepdene woods. Sh
knotted her beautiful hair and put o
her old hat, remembering she had pron
ised herself to retrim it and make it look
bit more tidy. Her gown was not of tb
newest fashion, being a relic of two pas
seasons, and having known many tun
ing3 and mendings. Her boots wer
cracked and gray, and demanded nev
soles, bet they must answer for the pre?
ent, and her gloves, of a cheap variety
were coming ont at the fingers.
lt was a joy to Edith to feel that sb
knew not a soul in Littlefield beyond he
landlady, and therefore cracked boot
and ragged gloves signified little. Sh?
was shabby from top to toe, and yet th<
face looking from under the old hat. th
form robed in the faded gown could no
fail to attract the eye of a stranger
Mrs. Northup had noticed it The gir
had a distinguished air, even in her pooi
clothes, and her face piquant, almos'
brilliant with the large gray eyes an<:
creamy pallor, was touched with win
some loveliness.
A light breeze had sprung up, cooling
the fevered air, and tree shadows began
to stretch long and soft across the fields.
Deepdene woods belonged to the Ashley
place, the grandest in Littlefield in ex?
tent and picturesque beauty, though not
the most pretentious. Everything about
the old gray granite mansion, with its
flower garden and greenhouses, a half
mile from the town, was in a tone of
quiet elegance. No cheap or tasteless
statuary or vulgar cast iron images, but
smooth velvet lawns, shaded by noble
s?id treesv and with well laid out drives
and Walks. The private grounds were
skirted by a shady laue that ran under
^reat drooping elms by the side of the
cennis court, but was divided from them
by a wall of masonry, and finally lost
itself in broad woodlands near the baT???f
of an artificial lake furnished with rus?
tic seats and a small boat house.
As Miss March wal ked swiftly through
the laue she saw a party of young people
at play on the tennis court-Harold Ash?
ley and four of his friends,, and his sister
Fanny, a slight brunei te", in a well fit?
ting tennis gown. A lady in white re?
clined in a lounging cliair, with a book
in her hand and a great St. Bernard
log crouched at her feet Edith could
easily have heard what tlie young people
were saying had she lingered a bit in the
shade of the trees, but she sped along
ander her sun umbrella, where wide
rents betrayed themselves in the worn
?ilk, anxious to hide herself in the thick,
cool woods in a spot among the birch
trees and leafy ashes, Where, sitting on
% mossy log, with her feet on ferns and
briony vines, she had once heard Che
song of the hermit tfmfch. Thisspot lay?
over the hill opposite Deepdene place,
and gave glimpses of a httle secluded
valley where cows wandered arning the
sweetfern led by a tinkling bell, lt
was lonely and delicious, and Edith, sit?
ting on ber moss cushioned seat, with her
bead thrown ;>ack and resting against
the trunk oi a tait ash, gave herself up
to reveries as she followed out the mazes
of her story. She never knew" bow long
she had sat there in perfect peace, her
mind having flown from the thread of
the tale to calculations as to how long
the* money it was to bring would feed
and clothe Will' at the scientific school',
when a strange gasping sound canie to
ber ear from the depths of the woods,
something lietween; a groan and a faint
despairing wail. lt might be a wounded
animal or a lost child.
Edith Rtarted to her feet and looked
about Tho sound appealed to issue frota
a little thicket to the left, rangle?! wit!?
wild grapevines and blackberry V>-*<hcs. !
She made her way quickly,, clambering .
ovef logs and' stones as-best she cou!
to the border of at- shallow stony broo
where grew a cluster of great pines ar
hemlocks. At the foot of the largest tn
in the dim green light she saw a vagt
whiteness, lt might be a light colon
dog or a young heifer that had got caugh
No, it was a woman, lying face dowi
clutching the moss with hershriveh
hands and moaning in great pain. H<
kuees were drawn up as if in a spasn
Edith gently raised her head from tl
ground and tried to support her with h<
back to the tree. The woman's face w;
deathly pale. She was old and thin an
very light, and ber hair was dressed c
Jong gray curls. Her gold rimmed glass?
had fallen off and her bonnet hung dai
gling from her neck by the strings. A li
tie figured shawl of an antique patter
lay on the .ground with a small dinn<
basket anda manuscript book The soc
lay open, and Edith saw the writing in
fine woman's hand, in lines that betokei
.:d poetry.
Edith ran to the brook for water, an
brought it in a china cup that had rolle
rat of the basket She bathed the sic
woman's face and chafed her icy col
hands. The faded, refined old face an
long gray curls seemed in some way fi
miliar, and suddenly it flashed upon he
memory that she had seen it that ver
morning in the cottage garden arnon
the Irish tenements. She was the sam
tall, thin old dame with Krag curls sh
had seen out in tho garden watering til
Cowers.
"I am 60 glad you have come," whi
pered the pals lips; "I thought I shoul
lie here alone."
"Were you ill when you came?" Edit
isked. "What caused it?*
The sick woman's hand pointed vagui
ly to some suspicious looking fungi ut
der the pine tree. "I heard they wei
good to eat, the pink gills, you know
and so I thought I would try.1'
"Good heavens! you have been eat?n,
toadstools!"'
Before the poor old creature could re
ply her face turned a pinched and sick!;
blue, her lips crumpled like a bit of pa
per in the fins her eyes rolled up in he
head, her hands clinched, and she wen
off into a convulsion. Edith, wide eyed
frightened and pale, found herself alon
in the woods with apparently a dyini
woman. She was young and strong ant
the old lady was light. She seeme<
wasted by fasting or sickness or perhap
both. Edith must try to get her out o
the thicket to the top of the lane, wher<
she could call for aid. She dashed mor<
water from the brook in the poor creat
ure's face, but it did no good. Sh<
chafed her Lands, but her teeth wen
clinched, and her whole form was quit?
stiff and rigid. The girl doubted if 1
spark of life was left in the old ?ame*.
She took her in ber arms and half drag?
ged, half carried her over the rougri
bushes and brambles till she reached 1
more open path that led to the top o:
the Jane. She managed to struggle for
ward with her burden to the foot of ?
large oak tree, where a bed of mos?
grew thick" and soft about the roots,
Here she put down the old woman's in
sensible form, and with her handkerchief
wiped away a little foam that cozec
from her lips. She folded the little
shawl she had picked up from the grotrnc
and placed it under her bead. She seemec
quite dead, but by applying her hand tc
the left side she still felt a faint pulsa?
tion of the heart
Edith's whole body was trembling
from fright and exertion. Her legs fell
too weak to give her support, and she
?tnmbled along, panting breathlessly,
antil she reached the lower part of the
lane, within sound of the laughter anti
shouts of the players on the tennis court
over the wall. She took off her hat and
waved it, but they did not see her. She
cried out faintly, but her voice seemed
muffled and lost in her throat
"Oh, come, come! Help! There is a
woman dying up in the woods! Come
^nick, or it will be too late!"
Young Harold Ashley had just sent
his ball out of bounds, and was search?
ing for it near the low boundary waif
when he saw this apparition of a young
girl, her face pale as ashes, with great,
wide, frightened eyes and parted lips,
her hair, which the tree boughs had torn
loose from its fastenings as she passed
under them with the insensible woman
in her anns, floating in a dark cloud
down her ba?k. Harn* leaped over the
wall, crying to the fellows who were at
play to follow him, and his sister caine
running after them, leaving the young
invalid lady alone on the reclining chair,
for even the big dog had scampered off
at the heels o? his master.
Now that help Was at hand Edith' sud?
denly felt strength flow back into her
trembling limbs and courage come into
her heart. She set off with Hairy Ash?
ley in advance of the others after she had
given him an -inkling, of the situation.
"I don't know who she is; I am a
stranger in Littlefield. I found her near
the brook, hing under a great pine tree.
She was then in convulsions, bnt made
mc understand she had been poisoned by
eating toadstools."
They fe*ni<l the old woman just where
Edith had left her tinder the oak, still
unconscious, and looking the image of
death. Miss Ashley bent over thc thin
Worn old frame with pi tying tenderness.
"I do believe. Harry," said she, "it is old
Celestina Rivers. She always has been
queer and poetical, and a little wrong, 1
fear, in the head. She must har rayed
elfin the Woods and perhaps ost her
way."
Two of the young men had made a
s\ipt>ort with their arms to carry the sick
woman down to the Ashley' house. While*
a third set off on a run for the doctor.
Edith, who had now twisted up her
vagrant lock? andi put on her hat. pro?
posed fo go and' look for the old hui y's
belongings she had Wen forced to leave
by' the brook,- and Harry Ashley and his
sister followed lier through thc Miicket.
..lt was awfnl?y p?wcky of you," saki
Harry, giving the yerang gir! beside him
an open tookof narration,- ''iv bring- the
oki lady ont of th*' woods.**
"She is very light.'* responded Edith,
"and I am young and *trong. f should
not have felt her veiglit on open ground."
"I remember all alnrat old Celestina
Rivers now." said Fanny Ashley". """She's
a clergyman's daughter and comes of a
good family, but has lived alone many
years. I know tlx ladies of the benev?
olent society t ried! to get her to enter the
Old Ladies- heme, but she is very queer
and obstinate. 1 remember hearing her
called the literary .Miss Rivers when 1?
was a little girl. sive wrote a great
many verses f o the moon and stars., but
I don't suppose people e.\-er cared io? buy
her poetry."
Edith's face flushed si ightly. I1 seemed
she had helped to-rese?e1 a ??Lerary sister,
and instantly she thought of lier own
old age, and seem eil to ste herself a
creature ef Vain dream's, liviiv-- alfc*?
with he? cat like po?r old Celestina
They had come to the pine tree by sl\e
brook, and Edith picked uptheJ?S vol?
ume w>Th a kind of lingering tender?
ness. She meant to keep possession* of
it,.??rd restore the precious*relic ton?
owner if she should recover without al?
lowing- profane eyes to scan- poor old
Celestina-s verses.
"Hello!" said Harry, as he came across
the luncheon basket and picked it up.
"Here are two soda crackers. 1 fear the*
old lady must have eaten the toadstools
for nourishment."
"No one ever goes hungry h???e in Lit?
tlefield," said Miss Ashley with ci?eerful
confidence. "Such a thing was never
known."
"People may not die absolutely og
hunger," returned Harry, "but I suspect
there aro cases- of slow and genteel?
starvation, and it looks as if the poetess*
was one of them."
[TO BE COSTINCKD J
THIS IS NOT A B003L
IT IS SOLID, SCBSTAXTLVL, PROGRESS*
j IVE PROSPERITY.
TffE TfiRlVrX'G CTTY OF SUMTER-?
TALK WITH ONE OP ITS ENER?
GETIC CITIZENS.
LF'ronr Ncws <fc Courier offne 29*11.]
Mr. W. II. Ingram, of the thriving
young city of Sumter, spent yester?
day in the city on- a< business errand.
As is everyone who comes from the
Game Cock City, Mr. Ingrain- was
full of the subject of its growth and
prospects, and-thc account he gives"
of thc place is truly one that should
attract ^real attention.
''No,1* he said to a Reporter for
The News and Courier, "Smaller has
no boom. We believe there in Hem y
Watterson's maxim of wherever you
see a boom hit it. A boom is very
much like a rocket ; it goes up beau?
tifully, and everybody rons to sec it,
but it is not hng behove ike same
crowd ig scurrying around trying to?
ge: out ol tho way of the stick. Now
there is no stick ia Suinte? s. ?fc h
straight arni strong, and while wo
have had no great rush of either capi?
tal or population, for tlie past five
years we have been climbing steadily
up until now wc occupy a position
where everybody must see us. Peo?
ple lia ve been coming in, tainting'
with them energy, brains and money,
and not an cnterpiisc bas been start?
ed within the past five years that bas
not succeeded in a manner m making
the city richer,, more attractive ami
in every way desirable as a place for
cither residence or investment of
capital. During the recent Colum?
bia Centennial, Sumter displayed a
spirit which surprised everybody,
and made many an ohler and perhaps
Helier city in the State open its eyes
in wonder. Now this spirit was not
ephemeral. It was aol gotten up for
that occasion. Sumter at the Cen?
tennial was on?y what Sumter is at
home, pushing, thriving, energetic,
ready at all times for any work her
hands might find to do, and always
in the forefront of the march ol' pro?
gress.
'.That spirit has recently evinced
itself to a marked degree, and if you
could just sec the confidence with
which everybodj enters into the on?
ward movement you would agree
with me that it was the coming city
of the interior of South Carolina,
The scheme of erecting a big hotel,
which was started some time ago, is
now in shape, and the plans ami
specifications are in the hands of
one of the best architects in thc
State who will make a report on them
in a few weeks. Thc work of con?
struction will be commenced not later
than August, and the house will be
ready for occupation by the time
winter sets in.
Mn addition to this another very
important movement of a similiar
nature is on foot. A company has
recently been formed for the purpose
of improving what is known as thc
.Richardson estate,' about three
quarters of a mile west of the cit)*.
The company has purchased the
place and will donate thirty acres
io the eily to be made into a
park. Preparations have now been
entered upon to build a hard road
from tins place to the centre of thc
eft y ami a dummy line will be run
out to it. In thc next few months
big hotel for Northern tourists will
be erected on the place, and the
grounds around it will be marie as at?
tract ive as possible.
'Thc peopie are also now beginning
to realize the necessity of manufac?
tures and concerted action is bein??
taken to erect a $250, OOO cotton milL
The advantages that the city offers ttr
this industry is apparent when it ir*
remembered that within a radios ol'
thirty miles is a country producing
animally 20*>,??O bales of cotton,
which is penetrated in? every direc?
tion by railroads. Wc now have
four distinct lines and two or three
ot lier roads are ir course of construe*
lion,
'A very lanie amount of building;
is now in progress. Two big brick
blocks are in course of construction,
a rr* 1 peters! more will be erected
during the next year or two* They aft?
very much needed, as the demand for
business locutions is very great and
is growing steadily. Owing u* tho
large and thriving section of winch
Sumter is the centre, it offers pecu?
liar advantages to ali k inds of whole*
sale business concerns, and thc? are
being established rapidly.'
Mr. ingram leaves for home this
morning.
For Over Fifty Years,
MTS. Winslow's Soothing Syrup h?s beeo
used for children teething. U swthss- tho
child. softens the gum?, ?l?*ys*hll pain, cures?
wind colic., nrtd* is the best remedy for"
Oiarrh&a. Twenty-five cents a bottle.
G-H>5?r?irtee<? Curo for I,a Grippe,
We Hutliorizc our advertised druggist to self
_V"U Or. King's New DiSvoVeiy for Con#utop*
lion. Coughs iind1 Cold.*, upon this condition*
U vo#are ?tlii.-ted with La Grippe .md*--:' a.**
this remedy according to dircctkns, giving it"
a fi ir trial, and expert' "?ce no benefit, you may
return the butti? and ha'JC your money refund*
ed. We K.i>ke this o&-r. because ofthe wondvr?
uv! ?nccc*s of Dr. King's New Discovery
during.lastseasetvV epidemic Have Leard of
n.i case tn which ?t failed Try if. Trial hot-*
'los free at J. F. W. DeLorme's Drug Sfrrev
?MWge >i*e ?>%i. a-Tid $1.00. 4i
If you feel wea&
and all worn oat take
BROWN'S IRON BITTERS