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P r>?v THE STRANC jr-"' MORRO' BY RUDYA ME :-. - Alive or dead-there is no other way.-Na tive Proverb. There is, as the conjurers say, DO de ception about this tale. Jukes by acci dent stumbled upon a village that is well known to exist, though he is the emly Englishman who has been there. A somewhat similar institution used to Nourish on the outskirts of Calcutta, and there ia a story that if you go into the heart of Bikanir, which is in the heart of tho great Indian desert, you shall come across not a village, but a town, where the dead who did not die Tbrst may not live have established their headquarters. And since it is perfectly toe that in them same desert is a won derful city where all the rich money fenders retreat after they have made _ j ieir fortunes (fortunes so vast that the .owners cannot trust even the strong fian of the government to protect Ahern, but take refuge in the waterless sands) and drive sumptuous C spring .barouches and buy beautiful girls and decorate their palaces with gold and ivory and Minton tiles and mother of pearl, I do not see why Jukes* t ale should not be true. He is a civil en gineer, with a head for plans and dis tances and things cf that kind, and he certainly would not take the trouble to invent imaginary traps. He could earn more by doing his legitimate work. He never varies tu rtale in the telling and grows very hot and indignant when he chinks"of the disrespectful treatment he received. He wrote this quite straight forwardly at first, but he has since touched it up in places and introduced moral reflections, thus: In the beginning it all arose from a slight attack of fever. My work neces sitated my being in camp fer some months between Pakpattan and Muba xakpur, a desolate, sandy stretch of % country, as every one who has had the misfortune to go there may know. My coolies were neither more nor less ex asperating than other gangs, and my iwork demanded sufficient attention to v keep me from moping had I been in clined to so unmanly a weakness. On the 23d December, 1884, I felt a little feverish. There was a full moon at the time, and in consequence every dog near my tent was baying it The brutes assembled in twos and threes and drove me frantic. A few days previously I had shot one loud mouthed singer and suspended his carcass interrorem about 60 yards from my tent door. But his friends fell upon, fought for and ulti mately devoured the body and, as it seemed to me, sang their hymns of thanksgiving afterward with renewed energy. The light headedness which accom panies fever acts differently on different men. My irritation gave way after a short time to a fixed determination to slaughter one huge black and white beast-who had4 been foremost in song and first in flight throughout the even ing. Thanks to a shaking hand and a giddy head, I had already missed him twice with both barrels of my shotgun, when it struck me that my best plan " would be to ride him down in the open and finish him off with a hog spear. This, of course, was merely the semi deliricus notion of a fever patient, but I remember that it struck me at the time as being eminently practical and feasible -d I therefore ordered my groom to sad dle Pornic and bring him round quietly to the rear of my tent When the pony was ready, I stood at his head prepared to mount and dash out as soon as the dog should again lift up his voice. Pornic, by the way, had not been out of his pickets for a couple of days. The night air W2s crisp and chilly, and I was armed with a specially long and sharp pair of persuaders with which I had been rousing a sluggish cob that afternoon. You will easily believe, then, that when he was let go he went quickly. In one moment, for the brute bolted as straight as a die, the tent was left far behind, and we were flying over the smooth, sandy soil at racing speed. In another we had passed the wretched dog, and I had almost forgotten why it was that I had taken horse and hog spear. The delirium of fever and the excite ment of rapid motion through the air must have taken away the remnant of my senses. I have a faint recollection of standing upright in my stirrups and of brandishing my hog spear the great white moon that looked down so calmly on my mad gallop and of shout ing challenges to the camel thorn bushes as they whizzed past Once or twice, I believe, I swayed forward on Pornic's neck and literally hung on ty my spurs -as the marks next morning showed. The wretched beast went forward like a thing possessed over what seemed to be a limitless expanse of moonlit sand. Next, I remember, the ground rose suddenly in front of us, and as we topped the ascent I saw the waters of the Sutlej shining like a silver bar be low. Then Pornic blundered heavily on his nose, and we rolled together down some unseen slope. I must have lost consciousness, for when I recovered I was lying on my stomach in a heap of soft white sand, and the dawn was beginning to break dimly over the edge of the slope down which I had fallen. As the light grew stronger I saw that I was at the bottom of a horseshoe shaped crater of simd, opening on one side directly on to the shoals of the Sutlej. My fever had alto gether left me, and, with the exception of a slight dizziness-in the*head, I felt c affects from the fall overnight. WB B JUKES. I :D KIPLING. Pornic, who was standing a few yards away, was naturally a good deal exhausted, but had not hurt himself in the least. His saddle, a favorite polo one, was much knocked about and had been twisted under his belly. It took me some time to put him to rights, and in the meantime I had ample opportu nities of observing the spot into which I had so foolishly dropped. At the risk of being considered tedious I must describe it at length, inasmuch as an accurate mental picture of its peculiarities will be of material assist ance in enabling the reader to under stand what follows. Imagine, then, as I have said before, a horseshoe shaped crater of sand with steeply graded sand walls about 35 feet high. The slope, I fancy, must have been about G5 degrees. This crater in closed a level piece of ground about 50 yards long by 30 at its broadest part, with a rude well in the center. Round the bottom of the crater, about three feet from the level of the ground proper, rar a series of 83 semicircular, ovoid, square and multilateral holes, all about three feet at the mouth. Each hole on inspection showed that it was carefully shored internally with driftwood and bamboos, and over the mouth a wooden drip board projected, like the peak of a jockey's cap, for two feet. Ko sign of life was visible in these tunnels, but a most sickening stench pervaded the en tire amphitheater-a stench fouler than any which my wanderings in Indian villages have* introduced me to. Having remounted Pornic, who was as anxious as I to get back to camp, I rode round the base of the horseshoe to find some place whence an exit would be practicable. The inhabitants, who ever they might be, had not thought fit to put in an appearance, so I was left to my own devices. My first attempt to "rush" Pornic up the steep sand banks showed me that-I had fallen into a trap exactly on the same model as that which the ant lion sets for its prey. At each step the shifting sand poured down from above in tons, and rattled on the drip beards of the holes like small shot. A couple of ineffectual charges sent us both rolling down to the bottom, half choked with the torrents of sand, and I was constrained to turn my attention to the river bank. Here everything seemed easy enough. The sand hills ran down to the river edge, it is true, but there were plenty of shoals and shallows across which I could gallop Pornic and find my way back to terra firma by turning sharply to tho right or the left. As I led Pornic over the sands I was startled by the faint pop of a rifle across the river, and at the same moment a bullet dropped with a sharp "whit" close to Pornic's head. There was co mistaking the nature of the missile-a regulation Martini Henry "picket. " About 500 yards away a country boat was anchored in mid stream, and a j<" of smoke drifting away from its bows in the still morn ing air showed me whence the delicate attention had come. Was ever a re spectable gentleman in such an im passe ? The treacherous sand slope al lowed no escape from a spot which I had visited mest involuntarily, and a promenade on the river frontage was the signal for a ^ombardment from some insane native in a boat. I'm afraid that I lost my temper very much indeed. Another bullet reminded me that I had better save my breath to cool my porridge, and I retreated hastily up the sands and back to the horseshoe, where I saw that the noise- of the rifle had drawn 65 human beings from the badger holes which I had up till that point supposed to be untenanted. I found myself in the midst of a crowd of spec tators-about 40 men, 20 wemen and ene child who could not have been more than 5 years old. They were all scantily clothed in that salmon colored cloth which one associates with Hindoo men dicants and at first sight gave me the impression of a band of loathsome fa kirs. The filth and repulsiveness of the assembly were beyond all description, and I shuddered to think what their life in the badger holes must be. Even in these days, when local self government has destroyed the greater part of a native's respect for a sahib, I have been accustomed to a certain amount of civility from my inferiors, and on approaching the crowd naturally expected that there would be some rec ognition of my presence. As a matter of fact there was, but it was by no means what I had looked for. The ragged crew actually laughed at me-such laughter I hope I may never hear again. They cackled, yelled, whis tled and howled as I walked into their midst, some cf them literally throwing themselves down on the ground in con vulsions cf unholy mirth. In a moment I had let go Pornic's head, and, irritat ed beyond expression at the morning's adventure, commenced cuffing those nearest to me with all the force I could. The wretches dropped under my blows like ninepins, and the laughter gave place to wails for mercy, while those yet untouched clasped me round the knees, imploring me in all sorts of un couth tongues to spare them. In the tumult and just when I was feeling ver> much ashamed of myself for having thus easily given way to my temper a thin, high voice murmured in English from behind my shoulder: "Habib! Sahib! Do yon not know me? Sahib, it is Gunga Dass, the telegraph i castor. " I I spun round quickly and faced speaker. Gringa Dass (I have, of course, hesitation in mentioning the man's J : name) I had known four years bei as a Deccanee Brahman lent by Punjab government to one of the Kl sia states. He was in charge of a bra] 1 telegraph office there, and when 11 last met him was a jovial, full stoma ed, portly government servant, witl marvelous capacity for making i puns in English, a peculiarity wh made me remember him long aft had forgotten his services to me in official capacity. It is seldom thai Hindoo makes English puns. Now, however, the man was chan; beyond all recognition. Caste ma stomach, slate colored continu t! and unctuous speech were all gone, looked at a withered skeleton, turh less and almost naked, with long, mat hair and deep set, codfish eyes. But a crescent shaped scar on the left che the result cf an accident for whic was responsible, I should never h; known him. But it was indubita Gunga Dass and-for this I was thai ful-an English speaking native, Vi might at least tell me the meaning all that I had gone through that day The crowd retreated to some distal as I turned toward the miserable figi and ordered him to show me so method of escaping from the crater. '. held a freshly plucked crow in '. hand and in reply to my questi climbed slovfiy on a platform of sa which ran in front of the holes a commenced lighting a fire there in lenee. Dried bents, sand poppies a driftwood burn quickly, and I deriv much consolation from the^fact that lit them with an ordinary sulph match. When they were in a brig glow and the crow was neatly spitted front thereof, Gunga Dass began wi1 out a word of preamble: "There are only two kinds of me sar, the alive and the dead. When y are dead, you are dead, but when y are alive, you live." Her.e the ere demanded his attention for an insta as it twirled before the fire in dang of being burne'd to a cinder. "If y( die at home, and do net die when y< come to the ghat to be burned, y< come here. " The nature of the reeking villa; was made plain now, and all that I h; known or read of the grotesque and t. horrible paled before the fact just coi municated by the ex-Brahman. Sixte< years ago, when I first landed in Bor bay, I had been told by a wanderii Armenian of the existence, somewhere : India, of a place to which such Hindo as had tb.9 misfortune to recover fro trance or catalepsy were conveyed ar kept, and I recollect laughing hearti! at what I was then pleased to considi a traveler's tale. Sitting at the botto: of the sand trap, the memory of Wa son's hotel, with its swinging punkah white robed attendants and the sallo faced Armenian, rose up in my mind 1 vividly as a photograph, and I burst ii to a loud fit of laughter. The contra: was too absurd ! Gunga Dass, as he bent over the ui clean bird, watched me curiously. Hil doos seldom laugh, and his surroun< ings were not such as to move GuDg Dass to any undue excess of hilarit] He removed the crow solemnly from th wooden spit and as solemnly devoure it. Then he continued his story, whic I give in his own words: "In epidemics of the cholera you ar carried to be burned almost before yo are dead. When you come tc the rive side, the cold air perhaps makes yo alive, and then, if you are only littl alive, mud is put on your nose ani month and you die conclusively. If yoi are rather more alive, more mud is put but if you are too lively they let yoi go and take you away. I was too lively and made protestation with ange: against the indignities that they en deavored to press upon me. In thos days I was Brahman and proud nr n Now I am dead man and eat"-here hi eyed the well gnawed breastbone witl the first sign of emotion that I had see: in him since we met-"crows and otb er things. They took me from my sheet! when they saw that I was too lively and gave me medicines for one week, and I survived successfully. Then the} sent me by rail from my place to Okar station, with a man to take care of me, and at Okara station we met two other men, and they conducted we three on camels in the night from Okara statioE to this place, and they propelled rn from the top to the bottom, and th? other two succeeded, and I have been here ever since, two and a half years. Once I was Brahman and proud man, and now I eat crows." "There is no way of getting out?" "None of what kind at alL When I first came, I made experiments fre quently, and all the others also, but we have always succumbed to the sand which is precipitated upon our heads." "But surely," I broke in at this point, "the river front is open, and it is worth while dodging the bullets, while at night" I had already matured a rough plan of escape which a natural instinct of selfishness forbade me sharing with Gunga Dass. He, however, divined my unspoken thought almost as soon as it was formed and, to my intense aston ishment, gave vent to a long low chuc kle of derision-the laughter, be it un derstood, of a superior or at least of an equal. "You will not"-he had dropped the sar completely after his opening sen tence- "make any escape that way. But you can try. I have tried. Once only." The eensation of nameless terror and abject fear which I had in vain at tempted to strive aga asi overmastered me completely. My long fast-it was j now close upon 10 o'clock, and I bad j eaten nothing since tiffin on the previous ; day-combined with the violent and j unnatural agitation of the ride, had ex I haust ed nv , and I verily believe that j for a few minutes I acted as one mad. j I hurled myself against the pitiless sand I slope. I ran round the base of the cra I ter, blaspheming and praying by turns, j I crawled out among the sedges of the i river trout, only to be driven back e j time in an agony of nervous dreac the ri e bullets which cut np the s round me, for I dared not face death of a znad dog among that hidf crowd, and finally fell, spent and i ing, at the cnrb of the welL No had taken the slightest notice of an hibition which makes me blush h< sven when I think of it now. TVc or three men trod on my p; ing body as they drew water, but t were evidently used to this sort thing and had no time to waste u me. The situation was humiliati Gunga Dass, indeed, when he '. banked the embers of his fire with sa was at some pains to throw half a c ful cf fetid water over my head, an tention for which I could have fa] on my knees and thanked him, but was laughing all the while in the ss mirthless, wheezy key that greeted on my first attempt to force the sho And so in a semicomatose conditio lay till noon. Then, being only a n after all, I felt hungry and intima as much to Gunga Dass, whom I 1 begun to regard as my natural protect Following the impulse of the on world when dealing with natives, I ] my hand into my pocket and drew 4 annas. The absurdity of the struck me at once, and I was aboul replace the money. Gunga Dass, however, was of a < ferent opinion. "Give me the mone] said he; "all you have, or I will help, and we will kill you!" All this if it were the most natural thing in ' world. A Briton's first impulse, I believe, to guard the contents of his pocke bu' a moment's reflection convinced of the futility cf differing with the c man who had it in his power to ma me comfortable and with whose helj was possible that I might eventua escape from the crater. I gave him the money in my possession-9 rupe 8 annas and o i>ie-for I always ki small change as backsheesh when I i in camp. Gunga Dass clutched 1 coins, and hid them at once in his n ged loin cloth, his expression changi to something diabolical as Le look round to assure himself that no one h observed us. "Now I will give \*m* something eat," said he. "What pleasure the possession of r money could have afforded him I ? unable to say, but inasmuch as it c give him evident delight I was r sorry that I had parted with it sc res ily, or I had no doubt that he wot have had me killed if I had refus* One does not protest against the vag ries of a den of wild beasts, and r companions were lower than any beas While I devoured what Gunga Dass h provided, a coarse chapatti and a cu ful of the foul well water, the peoj showed not the faintest sign of curiosi -that curiosity which is so rampar as a rule, in an Indian village. I could even fancy that they despis me. At all events they treated me wi the most chilling indifference, ai Gunga Dass was nearly as bad. I pli< him with questions about the terrib village and received extremely unsa isfactory answers. So far as I cou gather, it had been in existence fro time immemorial-whence I ccnclud< tnat it was at least a century old-ai during that time no one had ever be< known to escape from it. (I had to coi trcl myself here with beth hands, lest tl blind terror should lay hold of mease ond time and drive me raving rour the crater.) Gunga Dass took a in; licious pleasure in emphasizing th point and in watching me wince. Notl ing that I could do would induce hil to tell me who the mysterious "they were. "It is so ordered," he would reph "and I do not yet know any one wh has disobeyed the orders," "Only wait till my servants find ths I am missing," I retorted, "and promise you that this place shall b cleared off the face of the earth, an I'll give you a lesson in civility, toe my friend. " "Your servants would be torn i: pieces before they came near this place and, besides, you are dead, my dea friend. It is not your fault, of course but none the less you are dead am buried. " At irregular intervals supplies o food, I was told, were dropped dowi from the land side into the amphithea ter, and the inhabitants fought fo: them like wild beasts. When a mai felt his death coming on, he retreate< to his lair and died there. The bod] was sometimes dragged out of the hoi and thrown on to the sand or allowee 1 to rot where it lay. The phrase "thrown on to the sand' caught my attention, and I asked Gungi Dass whether this sort of thing was nol likely to breed a pestilence. "That," said he, with another of his wheezy chuckles, "you may see for your self subsequently. You will have muet time to make observations." Whereat, to his great delight, 1 winced once more and hastily continued the conversation: "And how do you live here from day to day? What dc you do?" The question elicited exactly the same answer as before, coupled with the information that "this place is like your European heaven. There is neither marrying nor giving in mar riage. " Gunga Dass had been educated at a mission school and, as he himself ad mitted, had he only changed his reli gion "like a wiseman," might have avoided the living grave which was I now his portion. But as long as I was ! with him I fancy he was happy. Here was a sahib, a representative of the dominant race, helpless as a child ind completely nt the mercy of his na tive neighbors. In a deliberate, lazy way he set himself to torture me as a schoolboy would devote a rapturous half hour to watching th 1 agonies of an ' impaled beetle or as a ferret in a blind \ burrow might gino himself comfortably j to the neck of a rabi it. Tho burden of ; his conversation was that there was no ? escape "of no kind whatever," and that ; I should stay here till I died and was "thrown on to the sand. " If it were poss! Die to forejudge the corrrc-Tba'cIc the damned ort the advent cf a new soul in their abode, I should say that they would speak as Dunga Dass did to me throughout that long afternoon. I was powerless to protest or answer, all my energies being devoted to a struggle against the inexplicable terror that threatened to overwhelm me again and again. I can compare the feeling to nothing except the struggles of a man against the overpowering nausea of the channel passage-only my agony was of the spirit and infinitely more terri ble. As the day wore on the inhabitants began to appear in nll strength to catch the rays of the afternoon sun, which were now sloping in at the mouth of the crater. They assembled in little knots and talked among themselves without even throwing a glance in my direction. About 4 o'clock, as far as I could judge, Gunga Dass rose and dived into his lair for a moment, emerging with a live crow in his hands. The wretched bird was in a most draggled and deplorable condition, but seemed to be in no way afraid of its master. Ad vancing cautiously to the river front, Gunga Dass stepped from tussock to tussock until he had reached a smooth patch of sand directly in the line of the boat's fire. The occupants of the boat took no notice. Here he stopped and, with a couple of dexterous turns of the wrist, pegged the bird on its back with outstretched wings. As was only nat ural, the crow began to shriek at once and beat the air with its claws. In a few seconds the clamor had attracted the attention of a bevy of wild crows on a shoal a few hundred yards away, where they were discnssing something that looked like a corpse. Half a dozen crows flew over at once to see what was going on, and also, as it proved, to at tack the pinioned bird. Gunga Dass, who had lain down on a tussock, motioned to me to be quiet, though I fancy this was a needless pre caution. In a moment, and before I conld see how it happened, a wild crow who had grappled with the shrieking and helpless bird was entangled in the latter's claws, swiftly disengaged by Gunga Dass and pegged down beside its companion in adversity. Curiosity, it seemed, overpowered the rest of the flock, and almost before Gunga Dass and I had time to withdraw to the tus sock two more captives were struggling in the upturned claws of the decoys. So the chase-if I can give it so digni fied a name-continued until Gunga Dass had captured seven crows. Five of them he throttled at once, reserving two for further operations another day. I was a good deal impressed by this, to me, novel method of securing food and complimented Gunga Dass on his skilL "It is nothing to do," said he. "To morrow you must do it for me. You are stronger than I am." This calm assumption of superiority upset me not a little, and I answered peremptorily : "Indeed, you old ruffian ! What do you think I have given you monev for?" TO EE CONTINUED. Atlantic *te Line Eailroai of CONDENSED SCHEDULE. In affect November 20th, 1S98. SOUTHBOUND. No. 35 No blt Lv Darlington, 8 02 arx Lv Elliott:, 8 45 ans Ar S'jmrer, 9 25 arx Lv Sacjter, "4 29 an: Ar Crestoo, 5 17 am Lr Crestgn, 5 45 act Ar Pregnalls, C' 15 ac Ar Oraoge>)crg, 5 40 am Ar Denmark, 6 12 am NORTHBOUND. No. 32 No. 56J Lv Deomarkj 4 17 pm Lv Oraogeburg, 4 00 pm Lv Pregnalls, 10 00 am Ar Cre toc, 3 50 pm Lv Creiton, 5 13 pm Ar Sumter, 6 03 pm Lv Sumter, 6 40 pm Ar Elliott, 7 20 pm Ar Darliogton, 8 05 pm JDaily except Sunday. Trains 82 and 35 carry through Pullman Palace Buffet Sleeping cars between Ne* York aod Macon via Augusta. T. M EMERSON, H. M. EMERSON, Traffic Manager. Gen'l Pass Agt J. Pv. KENLY, Gen'l Manager STANDARD BRED STALLION MocLoc, Will Stand the Season in Sumter -AT Boyle's Stables. Chestnut Stallion, foaled May 18921; bred by Maj. Campbell Brown, Ewell Stock Farm, Tennessee. "MODOC," eired by McEween, 2.18$; Srst dani Lady R idnvra ; rrgi tered io Vd 12 American Stud Bock. Le is one of the Sees? bred stallicnd in tho Mate: t.rc-d for size style, beautj r.nd speed, he is of kind one geQtle disposition. A sure foal celter. SOUTHERN RAILWAY. Condensed Schedule in Effect June 11th, 1899. No.ll No. :i Duilv Daily EASTERS "TIME. jNo. 6'NoJ2 Daily Daily 530n 7 00a Lv... Charleston ... Ar-11 00a 8 Lp 609p 7 41a " .. Summerville . " 10 Ife t 32? 7.50o 855a " ...brunchville... " j 8.52a: 602? 8-J4 a *. ...OraagebtUir... 44 ! 22a! 529p 92op 10 lea "... Ringville....44 ! 7 :}Ga!.4.3$? 10-SSii '. Camden .TunciionLv.j 350? ll 40a!Ar.Camden.Lv;.! 300? 1010p ll OCa Ar....Columbia ....Lvl 645al 355p 530p| 7 03a Lv... Charleston ... Ar 7 50p! 915a " .. .Branchville... " 819pi 9 41aj " .... Bamberg .... 44 83lp y 52a ".... Denmark ..." 850p'l010a " ...Blackville." 957p!ll 0?a" .Aiket." ; 1045p'll51a Ar.Augustaun.d.Lv44 natal 8 52a 8 24a 8 Hal 7 56a! 7 02a| 6 20a 8 7p 602? 5 Sop 5 1975 508p 400n 310? JiX. Sun. Sun. only Lv. Augusta - Ar. Sandersville. 44 Tennille. Ex. Sun. 7 00a 9 30a 5 21p lOOpI 119pi 9 OOo 130pj 130p 9 21p Lv. Tennille. 515a 310p 310? 44 Sandersville. 525a S21p 3 2 p Ar. Augusta. 9 00aj 710p 8 30? ! Mix. ! Mix. |Daily;Exsu Lv. Allendale.. " Barnwell... " Blackville . Ar. Batesburg. 6 45a;. 7 25a!l230p . 7 45a! lOOp!. . 330p|. ! Mix. ! Mix. iExsu Ex su Sun. only Lv. Batesburg. .' ? ? .- ! 4 ^;A\V' " Blackville!. 10 20a 7OOp 10 Ka Barnwell.....'1045a 78opl08oa Ar. Allendale.>.j 830p[ll 15a Atlanta and Beyond. Lv. Charleston... 7 00a; 53 pf. Ar. Augusta.il Sla lO 45p. " Atlanta. 820p c-00a ...... Lv. Atlanta.llOOpj 515a |0u? Ar. Chattanooga. 5 45a 9 2ca, 8 *0? Lv. Atlanta.] 580a] 4l5p Ar. Birmingham.ll 20a;10 IC? " Memphis, (via Birmingham)...] 9 80p 7 4 a Ar. Lexington.j 500p! 500a 44 Cincinnati.! 730p; 7 43a 44 Chicago...! 7 15a! o30? Ar. Louisville 44 St. Louis . Ar. Memphis, (via Chattanooga). 7 Sop 7 55a 7 (Wa 600? 7 403 To AsheviIIe-Cincinnati-XiO iis7iIIo. No.3ii.No.3S _ EASTERN TIME. ? Daily i Daily Lv. Augusta. 244Jp 930p 44 Batesburg.| 4 19a| 12 o7a Lv. Charleston. . v._:_J^.__11__r j 7 C0a| 5S p Lv. Columbia (UnionDepot). ll 40a; 8 30a Ar. Spartanburg . 310p;ll 25a 44 Asheville . 7 00? 240p 44 Knoxville.I 4 leal 7 20? 44 Cincinhnati. 730p| 7 45a 44 Louisville (via Jellico).I......{ 650a To Washington and the East. Lv. Augusta.. 44 Batesburg. 44 Columbia (Union Depot). Ar. Charlotte...-.. Ar. Danville. Ar. Richmond Ar. Washington. 44 Baltimore Pa. R. R. 44 Philadelphia.. 44 New York. i 240p| 930? i 419p;l207a : 523pi 215a i 845p| 915a ;i2 55a| 122? iT ai 625p ! 7 40a! 905p ! 912a 1125p 1135a 253a ! 203p 623a Sleeping Car Line between Charleston and Atlanta, via Augusta, making connections at Atlanta for all points North and West. Solid Trains between Charleston and Ashe ville, carrying elegant Pullman Buffet Parlor Cars. Connections at Columbia with through trams for Washington and the East ; also for Jackson ville and all Florida Points. FRANK S. GANNON. J. M. CULP, Third V-P. & Gen. Mgr., Traffic Manager, Washington, D. C Washington, D. C. GEORGE B. ALLEN, Div. Pass. Agt., Charleston, S. C. ' W. A. TURK. Gen'l Pass. Agt Washington, D. C. S. H. HARDWICK, Asst. Gen'l Pass. Agt. Atlanta. Ga. ATLANTIC COAST LINE North-Eastern R. R. of S. C CONDENSED SCHEDULE. TRAINS GOING SOUTH Dated No. No. No. Apl. 17, '99 36 23* 3 _ am pm Le Florence 3 25 7 45 Le Kiogstree 8 55 Ar Laces 4 33 9 13 pm Le Lanes 4 33 9 13 6 20 Ar Charleston 6 03 10 50 8 00 TRAINS GOING NORTH. No. No. No. 78* 32*j 62* am pm am Le Charleeton 6 33 4 49 7 00 Ar Lanes 8 03 6 14 8 32 Le Laces 8 63 6 14 Le Kegs tree 8 20 Ar Florence 9 20 7 20 am pm am .Daily, f Daily except Sunday. No. 52 runs through to Colnnbia via Cen tral R. R. of S. C. Trains Nos. 78 and 32 ron via Wilson anc Fayetteville-Short Line-aod make close connection for all points North. Trains on C. D R. R. leave Florence daily except Sunday 9 50 a m, arr>e Darling ton 10 15 a m, Eartaville 9 15 a rn, Cberaw 1130 a m, Wadesboro 2 25 p in. Leavt Florence daily except Sunday 7 55 p m, ar rive Darlington S 20 p m, Bennettsville 9 17 p rn, Gibson 9 45 p m. Leave Florence Sunday only 9 30 am. arrive Darlington 10 05 a m Leave Gibson daily except Sunday 6 00 a m, Bencettsville 7 00 a m, arrive Darling ton 8 00 a m, leave Darlington 8 50 a m, ar rire Florence 9 15 am. Leave Wadesboro daily except Sunday 3 00 p m, Cberaw 4 45 p rn, Hurtsville ? 00 a m, Darlington 6 29 p m, arrive Florence 7 00 p m. Leave Dar lington Sunday only 8 50 a m, arrive Flor ence 9 15am. J. R. KENLEY, JNO. F. DIVINE, Geo'l Manager. Gen'l Sup't] T M EMERSON, Traffic Manager. S.M EMERSON, Gen'l Pase. Agent Vinegar. I have on hand a lot of Home-made Vinegar of very fine quality. The flavor is del icate, while the strength is equal to any to be had. Will be sold at my residence for 40 cents per gallon. Ve ?r. STEEP*.