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YOL. VIII.
FEEDIN' THE STOCK.
Hear the chorus in that tie-up, ruticb, ger-runch, and runch and ranch!
) There’s a row of honest crittersl Does me good to hear ’em munch
When the barn is gettin’ dusky and the sun’s behind the drifts,
Touchin’ last the gable wiuder where the dancin’ hav-duat sifts,
When the coaxin’ from the tie-up kind o’ hints it’s five o’clock.
Wal, I’ve got a job that suits me—that’s the chore of feedln’ stock.
We’ve got patches down to our house—honest patches, though, and neat
But we’d rather have the patches than to sklnch on what we eat.
Lots of work, and grab to back ye—that’s a mighty wholesome creed,.
Critters fust, sir, that’s my motto—give the critters all they need.
And the way we do to our house, rnarin and me take what is left,
And—wal, we ain’t goin’ hungry, as you’ll notice by our heft.
Hang the man that’s calculatin’ when he measures out his hay,
Jroanin’ ev’ry time ho pitches ary forkful out the “bay;”
•Jang the man who feeds out ruff-scuff, wood and wire from the swale,
'Cause he wants to press his herd grass; send his clover off for sale.
Oh, the dim old barn seems homelike, with Its overhanging mows,
With its warm and battened tie-up, full of well-fed sheep aud cows.
Then I shot the door behind me, drop the bar and drive the pin,
And, with Jeff a-waggin’ after, lug the foamin’ milk pails in.
That’s the style of things to our house—marm and me wo don’t pull up
Until ev’ry critter’s earin’, from the cuttle down to pup.
Then the biskits and the spure-rlb and plum preserve taste good,
For we’re feelin’, me and mother, that we’re actin’ ’bout’s we should.
Like or not, s’r, after supper, mother sews another patch,
And she all," says the duds look trampy, ’cause she ain’t got goods to match.
Fust of though, comes the meal bins and the hay mows; after those,
If there’s any extry dollars, wal, we’ll see about some clothes.
But to-uigbt, why, bless ye, mother, pull the rug acrost the door,
Warmth and food and peace and comfort—let’s not pester God for more.
—Lewiston (Me.) Journal.
r A
■ . -
I
A BUNCH OF Keys.
By William H. Brooks.
ijrsiF FACT beyond
■ A dispute was that
mm the door was
Ira® i ','W-isJ "were barred locked aud they out.
From the pitch
a* black interior of
the freight eleva¬
tor Mollie Car¬
lton reviewed the
1 j situation.
•mss*** It was worth re¬
ViVL i©BSP ptalW viewing, being,
i- as situations go,
unique.
In the first place, no young woman
sound mind sits in a freight eleva¬
tor at' midnight attired in a dinner
gown as a mere pastime. Add to this
the fact that the painfully new and
unyielding ropes by which the lift
‘ propelled being pulled
•was were upon
lustily by the clerk from the neigh¬
boring drug store—awakened from a
sound sleep for the purpose—and it
reaijiy be seen that something
nad happened in the Carton
family. * when the drug
At that moment
clerk was puliing Mollie with infinite
pains toward the fifth floor, rear, of
the apartment building in which the
Cartons had the pleasure of residing
Mrs. Carton sat wringing her hands
and calling upon heaven to save her
child upon the front stairs. To be
it was upon the first step of the
flight of stairs she sat. Which
should make it evident to everybody
that she was conducting her laments
tion just outside .her own door, She
sat outside not from choice, but be¬
cause fihe couldn’t help herself.
In short, she was locked out. And
so was Mollie.
So was the drug clerk for that mat¬
ter, but the fifth apartment in the
“Brunhilda,” not being his abiding
did not take it to heart as
Mrs. Carton did Having known the
_ Minutes, his
Cartons /for only twenty yet
interest • in the matter was as
quasi-professional. perhaps it would be better to
But
begin at the beginning.
Be it known, then, that Mrs. Carton,
aud her daughter had been giving a
dinner that evening. The guests
had stopped on rather late, and the
janitor, after the manner of his kind,
havigg put the lights cut early.
Mollie stepped into the hall to light
the 'gas that bet friends might find
their -way down the winding stairs in
comfort. Mrs. Carton followed her,
aud together they sped the engrossed parting
diners. While they were thus
door—their -own treacherous front
door—impelled by a slight draft, or
by what somebody has called the total
depravity of inanimate things, clicked
sharply shut. They both turned
quickly, but it was too late, The
latch had done its worst.
^ Their maid had departed imrnedi
after serving,to a ball, intending
do spend the night with her sister.
Mr. Carton was out of town on a
business trip, So there was no hope
of success from within.
It was obviously impossible to go
to a hotel attired in their evening
‘To thine own self be true.and it will follow, as night the day, thou cans’tnot then be false to any man.”
LINCOLNTON, GA . THURSDAY JULY 26, 1000.
frocks. Besides, they had no money.
They knew no one in the buildiDg.
Their friends all lived at a distance.
Their guests were already beyond
reach. Mrs. Carton entertained a
mental vision of a night spent upon
the street, or, at best, in a drafty hall¬
way. She sank down Upon the stairs
overcome. She also wept.
But Mollie was young,_ and youth
is ever resourceful. Also, sue Bau u
keen sense of humor, Although she
didn’t dare let her mother know it,
she was amused, At all events, the
situation savored of adventure, and
an opportunity for adventure is not to
be lightly disregarded, even if it does
involve a little discomfort. She patted
her mother’s shoulder soothingly.
“There, there. Don’t cry, dear.
The janitor is sure to have a skeleton
key. I’ll run down and get it.”
But the janitor hadn’t any sucl
thing. Moreover, he resented being
disturbed. He was a hard-worlting
man, he said, and a night’s sleep was
about all he got out of life aside from
three meals daily, Why didn’t the
young lady go wake up the landlord.
Landlords had an easy time. All they
had to do was collect rents. They
were just made to be waked up. Thej
liked it.
Fortunately the landlord lived
across the street. So, wrapping Mrs.
Janitor’s shawl about her, Mollie went
forth to wake the landlord.
Notwithstanding his rent-collecting
habit, the landlord seemed to share
the janitor’s views on the subject of
sleep. He hadn’t a duplicate key, lie
informed her, after at last he had
been awakened and appeared Mollie at an
upper window. He seemed to
to gloat over the fact. He intimated
that his business was renting apart¬
ments, not running other people’s
domestic affairs.
“But can’t you suggest something?”
Mollie cried, desperately, “We must
get in, you know.”
He suggested the drug clerk on the
corner, who had a big bunch of keys,
might be able to open the door, and
then he shut the window.
The drug clerk was asleep, too, and
hard to arouse, hut at last opened the
door wide. Upon perceiving a young
woman, however, he shut it again
quickly that his disheveled condition
might not be too apparent, leaving,
however, a crack wide enough for con¬
versational purposes.
“Give mo your prescription,” he
said, extending a hand through the
aperture. “I’ll turn up the light as
soon as I get in the back room and
you can come in and sit down.”
It was harder than she thought it
would be to explain her errand.
Mollie’s tongue seemed to cleave to
the roof of her mouth. She experi¬
enced di'ficulty in breathing.
“I—it—it isn’t a prescription,” she
gasped. said the clerk.
“O!”
It was all he said, but it sounded
like more to Mollie. She knew it
meant more.
“I—that is, we—my mother and I,
you know—are lunderstand,” in great trouble.-’ said tilt
“Of course,
drug clerk, instant sympathy in his'
tone.
“What does ho understand?”
thought Mollie wildly. physician’s
“Don’t you know your
telephone number?” he went on. “I’ll
call him up right away.”
“It isn’t illness. It really isn’t any¬
thing in your line of business. We are
just locked out.”
Mollie blurted it out at last. She
heaved a little sigh of relief and hur¬
ried on.
“Our landlord said you had a big
bunch of keys and were very clever
about—about such things, And I
hoped you’d help us, so I ventured to
wake you. It really is a serious mat¬
ter, or I wouldn’t have dreamed of dis¬
turbing you.” lior voice
There was a tremble in
that convinced the drug clerk. It
was the same tremble that won the
landlord. Moreover, she was young
and he was young. And he did hap¬
pen to possess a good temper,
“I ought not to leave ttlf| if store,”
he said. “Trouble for me I get
caught. Is it near?”
“Just around the corner,” Mollie
hastened to assure him.
“Wait a minute, then, until I get
dressed, and I’ll come with you.”
It seemed a long time before he
emerged, jingling his bunch of keys,
but he really made a hasty toilet.
Together they repaired to Mollie’s
flat, and the clerk tried his best tc
unlock the door, but failed. Then
Mollie suggested the freight elevator.
TMs is • ■ ■ a«
-5? R. G. Tarver,
mam Manager oi the
i ' .t el
_
ml Wi m\ ? ■ GREAT
if'WmB SHOE CO.
R. G. TARVER, Mgr. You all Know Him!
He is the
Red Hot Shoe Bargain Man
SELLS THE BEST SHOES
ON EARTH FOR THE MONEY.
If you want Good Shoes Cheap, do not fail to see him. Call at
(J ESI EASTERN SHOE COMPANY,
907 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga.
„ais rLvtr/i
ceries “ a ‘ hinfB
Mary never locks it.
that every night the last- thing. So
it is sure to be open. And it is quite
a large door, I’m sure I-—
Then she turned to the drug clerk
deprecatingly. afraid I’m heavy and the
“I’m ropes
are stiff, But do you suppose you
could pull me up on the elevator?”
The janitor's wife’s shawl had
slipped off by this time, and Mollie
looked so pretty that it would have
taken a far more seasoned youth than
the drug clerk to withstand her, es¬
pecially when she plead. answered val¬
“I’m sure I can,” he
iantly. “It’s a good plan.” in
But Mrs. Carton refused to see
it anything but her daughter’s doom.
“You’ll” be killed,” she sobbed,
“And then what will your father say?”
Mollie and the clerk descended to
the basement, which, of course, was
dark, but fortunately the drug clerk
had a match. They found the ele¬
vator after a short search. It wasn’t
a large elevator, but Mollie squeezed
herself in and sat like a quarter
onened jackknife, her head bump¬
ing the top of the elevator and her
elbows resting on her knees. It
wasn’t comfortable. As the machine
reached the first floor a voice startled
them both. It seemed to come from
above them.
“M’>= Cp-r-tAn ” it.“aid. ‘Wonr door
is open. Mrs. Carton, would like you
to come upstairs.”
“What?” exclaimed Mollie and the
drug clerk in the same breath.
“How did it happen?”
But the voice vouchsafed no explan
nation.
It was an easy matter to drop the
elevator the few feet it had ascended.
Mollie scrambled out. She and the
drug clerk ran upstairs. Mrs. Carton
met them at their door beaming. A
tall, athletic-looking fellow stood be¬
side her.
“My dear,” she said, “let me pre¬
sent Mr. Mocre, who has so kindly, I
might say bravely, helped us out of
our dilemma.”
“But how?” demanded Mollie,
heedless of conventions. “How in
the world did he do it?”
“Very simple, I assure you, Miss
Carton,” said the deliverer.
“O, my dear, he ran a most fearful
risk!” exclaimed her mother.
“I happened to be one of the bach¬
elors that keep house just across the
hall from you,” continued the deliv¬
erer. “I came home late and found
Mrs. Carton sitting outside our door
in deepest distress. I naturally
asked if I could be of service. And
then-”
“And then, Mollie,” interrupted
Mrs. Carton, “he went into his
kitchen and opened his door in the
elevator shaft just opposite to ours,
pried ours open with an umbrella
and swung across that awful chasm
right into our kitchen. Wasn’t that
-- * Ifll)
^
AtY°r.s r™. nothing at
two back of him it was
all,” he said.
I But Mollie looked impressed.
The drug clerk saw it and knew thai
Lis brief moment was past. It had
been exciting while it lasted. Miss
Carton was charming. He had never
come so near to a girl of her class
before. But he was glad he knew
enough to realize that it was over.
Mrs. Carton and Mollie both begged
him to come in and have some supper.
Mollie even said she’d do something
on the ehafiug-dish for him. But he
declined. He said he had to get back
to the store.
As he bathed his smarting hands
with hamamelis in the safe haven of
the prescription room he indulged in
1 few bitter thougnts. He remem
bered how pretty Miss Carton was.
Moore thought so, too. He knew by
tbe way he looked at her. At this
moment the Yale man was probably
consuming the rarebit that he, the
drug clerk, had really earned.
The ache where his hands were
scraped by the ropes seemed to grow
worae world,” ha
“It’s a deucedly unequal
decided
Most men have their wits sharpened
on the grindstone of adversity,
NO. 8.
f A BALLA d OF THE TRAILING SKIRTi
I mot a girl the other day,
A girl with golden tresses.
Who wore the most bewitching air -■
And daintiest of dresses.
I gazed at her with kindling eye
Aud admiration uttor—
Until I saw her silken skirt
Was trailing in the gutter!
‘What senseless style is this?” I though?*
“What new sartorial passion?
And who on eartli stands sponsor foe ‘
The idiotic fashion?”
I’ve asked a dozen maids or more,
A tailor and his cutter.
But no one knows why skirts are made
To drag along the gutter.
Alas! for woman, fashion’s slave;
.She does not seem to mind it.
Her silk or satin sweeps the street
Aud leaves no filth behind it.
For all the dirt the breezes blow
And all the germs that flutter
May find a refuge in the gowns
That swish along the gutter.
What lovely woman wills to do ’
She does without a reason,
To interfere is wuste of time.
To eriticise is treason.
Man’s only province is to work
To earn nis bread and butter—
And buy her all the skirts she wants
To trail along the gutter.
—Henry Kobinsou Palmer, in Life.
PITH AND POINT.
Sillicus—“What do you regard as
the most*uncertain thing in life?”
Cynictis—“A woman’s age.”
“He has always run his business
like clockwork.” “Yes; and now his
creditors have wound it up.”
Blobbs— “There are always two
sides to a political question.”
Slobbs—“Yes; the inside and the
outside.”
Nell—“She isn’t very attractive, is
she?” Belle—“Attractive! Why,
would you believe it, that girl has
never even had a mosquito bite.”
He used to call her “darling,”
In such a loving way:
But since they’ve wed, it is now said,
He only calls her “say!”
—Indianapolis Tress.
Dollv—“Did that famous author
mean, impudent untigr—Diiiea-jj
Record,
Little Willie—“Say, pa, when a
man fails in business what is meant
by his liabilities?” Pa—“The sum
for which his creditors get left, my
son.”—Chicago News.
Mr. Knowait—“Red hair always
accompanies great strength. It is
natural-” Mr. Wuuder —“Get
out! Did you ever see a red-headed
elephant?”—Baltimore American.
“Why did you release the third
baseman?” asked the fan. ‘Because
believer brought in a run,” replied
the magnate. “Ah, I see,” said the
fan, “you wanted a ruu for your
money.”
“Politeness seems to be a lost art,”
said the gentleman of the old school.
“Not at all,” replied the up-to-date
youngman; “the people who are polite
nowadays usually have something they
want to sell you.”
“I can’t understand the large num¬
ber of fatalities attributed to the
earthquake. It was the merest trem¬
or.” “Ah, but quite sufficient to
cause the average fokling-bed to close
up.”—Detroit Journal.
Mrs. Spareuotrod— “Marjorie, it
was for your own good that I pun¬
ished you. There are some things
that a mother knows best.” Marjorie
(between sobs)—“I don’t see why
mothers couldn’t all be grand moth ers. ”
—Puck.
“Young woman, young woman,”
sputtered the savage bachelor, whom
the sweet young thing had stirred to
super-indignation. “Is that all you
can think to say?” she asked, sweetly.
“Is there anything worse to be said?”
he asked; and with that he felt much
consoled.—Indianapolis Press.
Quick IJuililinjJ.
The necessity for the quick build¬
ing of great buildings of the modern
American cities can be speedily real¬
ized by one who stops to consider the
enormous ground rental to-day dur
ing the construction, the inteiest on
the loans, the taxes, and the expense
of postponing the thousands of dollars
of monthly rental of offices, stores,
and lofts. Certain contractors, hav
ing made violent effort to conform to
the demands, of the unions, were
ruined financially, Others endeav
ored to bring their capitalist clients
to stand the additional expense; the
result of this was the withdrawal oi
the capitalists from many projected
enterprises. This, of course, not only
brought idleness.and ruination to the
contractors, but it greatly limited the
demand for labor. We find accord¬
ingly that the tables have been com¬
pletely turned.—Harper’s Weekly.