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SUMTER, S. C. 0 We are giving more attention to the handling of Cotto this season than ever before, which means that while w bought more Cotton than any other firm on the market, it i our puipose to buy a still greater quantity. This we car not do unless we pay the price, and when you bring or shi to us your Cotton, the VERY HIGHEST PRICE IS A' SURED. Our General Mercantile Departmeni has been thoroughly looked after and we invite an inspe( tion of our Dry Goods, Fancy Goods, Shoe and Clothin Stocks. Our buyer has devoted much of his experience thi season in looking after the Dress Goods selections, and w can assure our Lady friends that we are enabled to pleas them. not only in styles, but prices. Our General Dry Good Stock was never more complete and better bought-" 'GOOD| WELL BOUGHT ARE HALF SOLD. Shoes! Shoes! There is no need wearing out shoe leather running about fc footwear, when we have, direct from the factories, Shoe of the best make, and which we can sell with a guarantei Then, we carry as nice a line of Gents' Youths' and Boy Clothing as you will be able to see in any other city. Thi Department was selected %:ith a view to style, fit and dure bility. OUR GROCERY DEPARTMENT Cannot be excelled anywhere, and our prices defy compet tion. We have always enjoyed a tine Clarendon patronag for which we are grateful, and we shall strive to continu to merit the patronage and confidence you give us-com to see us, Yours, &c, LEVI BROTHERS, SUMTER, S. C THE FALL OF 194 Is full of promise for Sumter rnerchants. The indicc tions are that Our Farming Friends Upon whom we are so largely dependent, will make good crop of cotton, and if anything like the preset prices are maintained, they can look forward to A Happy Christmas. Already they have harvested good grain cropi and we cannot conceive of any greater happiness tha to feel that they are not dependent upon the West fc their bread, and the surplus from their cotton crop ca be used in improving their homes, which means Happiness to their Familiec It is useless to say that we have made unusual pr( parations for the season's business, and with a contint ance of the patronage heretofore so liberally bestowe upon us, which we solicit most earnestly, there will b no disappointment on our part. Enlarge and Improve Has always been our policy, and a glance through ou stores and warehouses is a convincing proof that the are stocked as never before, and probably as no othe mercantile house has ever been stocked in Sumter. W are frequently asked, why do you buy such a large stocli andour reply is that in buying quantities WE SAVE MONEY FOR OUR PATRONS And another reason is we have the friends to buy then There is no town in the State in which there is better class of merchants or more active competition tha: in Sumter, and while this house is credited with doing The Largest Business It is culy by the strictest care in buying, and the closes margin of profit in selling, that we can maintain ou supremacy. It matters not what baits or inducement our competitors may offer we will take care of our friends let the cost be what it may The present state of the weather does not justif us in entering into a detailed description of our Winte Fabrics, but this will be taken up later. O'DONN E LL & CO. The Substii Copyright. 1903. by I CHAPTER 1. 9 HE evidence was all in. The sp(.elees had been made on both sides of the case, and the attorney for the state had grown severe and eloquent in urging conviezion. The jury luud remained in retirement all the morning and at last had filed in and rendered their ver dict. David Buckley. the prisoner at the bar. was found guilty of having deliberately and in the' night s:olen a bale of cotton from a nighboil; barn, branded it as his own and taken it to , market the next day. , He was a sbort. thickset man near The age of sixty-gray. stiff haired and sullen fackil.';and J.'!.Et now mof4 -in gry, it was tl:oaght. at certain neigh bors who had testitied against him than chagrined at the verdict of the eourt. He glanced at his wife, who S sat against the railing behind him, and e then stared steadily at the floor till e the sheriff came and led him back to jail. S Later in the afternoon he was i brought back to receive his sentence. The judge, a tall, powerful man, dark of hair and eye and as brown as a Spaniard, was about to order him to stand up when Hiram Hillyer, a well to do cotton and grain merchant of the town, rose and begged permission to speak to the judge in private before the prisoner was sentenced. "Well, I reckon we've got time, Mr. r Hillyer," the judge said pleasantly. "If it's anything in Buckley's favor I'd M like to hear it. I've been on the bench seven years, and I don't think I ever had a man before me that was painted as black by his neighbors." S Making his way through the cluster of lawyers and students of the law around the stove to one of the vacant jury rooms, the merchant waited for the judge to join him, and when he came Hillyer, nervously pulling at his short, gray beard, faced him, an eager look In. his mild blue eyes. "I'm afeard it ain't nothin' in the old man's favor, Judge Moore," he fal tered. "The truth is, I'm a-thinkin' about his son. Judge, ef thar ever e was a finer, more honest an' upright boy than George Buckley. I hain't nev e er run across 'im." e "Oh, you can't tell me anything about George," said Judge Moore. "He and I are friends. He voted for me and legged for me in the Upper Tenth dis trict. Ah, so he sent you to me, did he? Well, what does George wanti I was glad he wasn't in court to hear all that stuff against his daddy." "You see, we thought-me'n' George both -thought that maybe you mought -justice mought be carried out by Im posin' a pretty heavy fine, an' " "Old Buckley Isn't able to pay a cent," broke In the judge. "I've made inquiries, and if his little farm Is sold it will leave his old wife without any "means of making a support. No, the Sjig's up with him." "But George's been savin' money for the last five years," said Hlllyer ant i ously. "I've got It borrowed from 'im at regular rates. I can lay my hands on the money at a moment's notice. Yes, he can raise a reasonable amount Iall right." Judge Moore frowned, thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers and turned to a window which looked .out on the courtyard, where a few Idlers lay on the grass near the hitch ing rack. "I'm not going to be the medium through which deserving innocent peo ple suffer for the guilty," he said firmly. "I've thought it all over. I was afraid George might ask this, but it's no go. I've made up my mind on that score." "Oh, judge, don't say that!" pleaded Hillyer. "The boy simply can't bear it. You see, Judge Moore, since I tuck 'im an' sent 'Im off to school he's been sorter away from his home, an' the feller's got as much feelin' as any body else. Then when he got through college an' I give 'im a place In my business he's stood with the best folks In the town, an' it would go hard with 'im-to have his own daddy at the coal 1 mines." "I know all that, Mr. Hillyer. I've thought of it twenty times during this trial. I hardly slept last night trying to make up my mind what to do in Scase the jury didn't recommend Buck ley to mercy. Well, they came down on 'im like a load of bricks, an' I'm not -going to let George suffer for him. -Why, the old rascal can't be cured of his dishonesty. Didn't you hear what Bradley said about his constantly steal ing from his neighbors, many of .whom2 never made any charge against him out of respect for Mrs. Buckley and George? No, sir; his son, who is my friend, shall not sacrifice his savings for him." "Then I'll pay It, judge; you know I am able." "You shan't do -that, either," said the judge firmly. "Even if I'd consent to let as old a man as you be out of pocket for such a hopeless reprobate, George would find It out and insist on repaying you in the long run. No; five 'years in the mines will do the old scamp good, and I'm going to secure his transportation." "You think .that's final then, judge?" Hillyer had turned quite pale, and the quivering hand which had clutched his -beard stayed itself in its downward progress. 1i "Yes, that's final, Mr. Hillyer. I wish I could help you, but I can't. I'll settle Buckley's hash in about two minutes after I give him a sound lecture. Right now the old devil would cut the throats of several of the state's witnesses If he was at liberty." "Then I'll go back to the store an tell the boy," Hlllyer sighed as he moved to the door, a dead look of dis appointment in his eye. As Hlllyer was making his way through the courtroom to the outer door the wife of the condemned man reached out her hand and stopped him. She had clutched the tail of his long frock coat. "I want to speak to you," she said. "Go ahead. I'm goin' outside." He led the way down the stairs to the yard below and then paused to hear what he had to say. "I seed you invite the judge out," she began. "I suspicioned you axed 'im to make it a fine." "Yes, that's what I called 'im out fer, Mrs. Buckley," thie merchant said, looking down commiserately on her fat igure clothed in dingy black calico, "but it wasn't a bit o' use. He's made r WILL N. HARBEN, Author of "Abner Dan iel." "T h e Land of the C h a n g i a g CUSun." "The e North Walk Mystery." Etc. IARPER 4 BROTHERS uplhis mind to sena theold ~man oif for five years." The woman nodded slowly. "Well, I reckon it's as good as we kin expect," she said. "Ef it bad been a fine, George would 'a' had to pay it, an' I'm agin that proposition. He's worked hard to make his little start, an' it ain't right fer 'im to have to give it up when -Mr. Hillyer, I've heard that pore boy beg an' beg his pa to change, an' ef he's predicted this thing once he has fifty times." "I knew that, too," replied the mer chant, with a dark frown. "But George is jest so situated right now, Mrs. Buckley, that he'd sacrifice all he expects to make in the next ten years to avoid the disgrace o' the sentence. He holds his own with the biggest folks in town, an' this is simply awfuL You know how some o' these blue blooded families look on a thing like this." "Jest about as sensible as they look on most things," retorted Mrs. Buck ley philosophically, "an' I don't see no use in humorin' 'em. They may know a man's a thief, but ef he hain't pub licly branded they don't care. But. David has broke the law; thar ain't no change to be made in 'im, an' I'm agin lettin' it hamper George, no matter what these shallow minded aristocrats think. What's botherin' me is another thing." "You say it is, Mrs. Buckley?" And the merchant stared expectantly. "Yes, Mr. Hillyer. George hain't got but one weakness, an' that is, once in a long while, when he is in despair, he will take a drink to drown his trou ble. I reckon he bain't tetched a drap but once since he's been with you." "An' that was the time they threat ened to jail yore husband fer pennin' up Wilson's hogs, an' we succeeded in squashin' the charge." "Yes, that was the time"--the old wo man pushed back her gingham poke bonnet and looked straight into Hill yer's eyes-"an' I am anxious to find out ef this thing, has made him" I "Not yet, Mrs. Buckley." Hillyer's voice bad fallen very low; it was al most husky. "But I've been that afeard it would start 'im off that I haln't been able to sleep at night. He's in a' awful state o' mind, Mrs. Buckley, an' when I go back an' tell 'im the judge's de cision I don't know what he'll do. A fine piece o' metal will bend jest so far an' then it'll break." The old woman nodded again slowly and then said: "Well, I'll go back in side. Tbhis Is a new wrinkle on me. It's considered right an' proper fer folks to go to the grave with the'r kin, an' I reckon thar ud be talk ef I shirk ed hearin' the sentence, but tell George I'll come down to the store after awhile." "All right. Mrs. Buckley. I'll tell As Hillyer turned toward the gate to reach the little street which stretch ed out, lined with cottages and br''k law offices, to the red brick freight ..e pot at the far end, one of the loungers on the grass rose and slouched toward him. "Have they sentenced Buckley yet?" he asked. "I'm a witness on that barn burnin' case, an' ef it ain't a-goin' to be called tonight I'm a-goin' home." "It's next on the docket," the mer chant informed him. The man had another questin ready. "What's cotton bringin' today?" he asked. "I've got a big white bale ready fer the gin." "Seven and three-eights," answered Hillyer, and he walked on. On the main thoroughfare of the town he had to pass several brick stores where the clerks and merchants stood amid the heaps of their. wares on the narrow Ibrick sidewalks, and many of them Iasked about the Buckley trial. Hillyer made short but considerate replies and hastened past. On a corner of one of the streets running back to a railroad Isidetrack, in the rear, stood his ware house. Here he found his negro porter busy with rattling floor trucks loading a box car with bags of grain. The of flee was a commodious room cut off n one of the corners of the big brick buildng next to the street. It con tained a long walnut counter full of drawers, with shelves overhead for old ledgers, commercial reports, dusty let ter files and wired bunches of bills, re ceipts and canceled bank checks. George Buckley, a handsome, dark eyed young man of twenty-seven or eight, sat on a high stool writing in a ponderous ledger. Turning his head and seeing who it was, he removed his heels from the rung of the stool and turned round. There was a steady stare in his eyes as he fixed them on Hillyer's sympathetic, almost shrink ng face. "You did not succeed." he said, his lips tightening. "No; he'd already m'ade up his mind, George," replied the merchant. George Buckley turned suddenly and bent over his ledger and took up his pen, but he did not dip it in the ink stand. Hillyer could not see his face, but he noted that the hand holding the pe was quivering. Suddenly Buckley laid the pen down, and Hlllyer heard something resembling a sob or a gasp escape him, then the young man stood down on the floor and reached for his coat and pulled it on. Hie was deathly pale, his eyes were flashing strangely. "George, where are you going?" The old man caught his arm, but Buck ley wrenched It from his grasp. "Let me alone, Mr. Ehllyer," said be. "For God's sake, let me alone'" "All right, George; I was Jest about"- But his words fell dead on the air, for Buckley had taken his bat, pulled it on, and plunged out at the door For a moment the merchant stood like a man turned to stone, and Ithen he hurried back over the rough floor through the warehouse to the negro, a tall, middle aged man. I"Jake," he said excitedly, unable to control his voice, "drop yore work an' run after George. Don't let 'im see you, but come back and tell me where he goes." "All right, Marse H~illyer," and, leav ing his trucks, the negro hastened out athsde door of the building and s~edhupthe street. Hillyer went back intthe office and sat down at his pri vate desk. Once he lowered his head to his crossed arms and it looked as i he were praying. In a few minutes Jake returned, swinging his slouch hat in his hand. "Well?" gasped Hillyer-"well?2" tr Be. went u+ to de pntoien manrm Hillyer, but he didn't put no kener-ir nur wait to git any. It looked to m( like he didn't know whar he was goin ur what fer. Den he come on dcwn b3 Hillhouse's bar. He stopped dar an looked in, den he come on slow like an stopped ag'in. Den he turned an walked back an' went in. I wen round to de back end en watched. H( was at de counter pourin' him out i dram, Marse Hillyer." "You say he was, Jake?" said th( merchant. "Jake, in the mornin' ' want you to truck all that westeri wheat over on the other side. It's to( damp where it Is." "All right, Marse Hillyer." A moment after the negro had lef the office George Buckley came in an( resumed his seat at the counter. HM opened the big ledger, dipped his pei and began to write. Hillyer watche him cautiously. His hand seeme steady enough, but his cheeks wer r P1 "He's in a' aufut scate o' mind, Mrs BucdcYl." flushed and his hair dishevelled ove his brow. Just then Mrs. Buckley cami into the office. She took off her hon net, showing smooth, gray hair and a deeply wrinkled brow and cheeks and stood for a moment behind her sot Hillyer fancied that their conversatloi might be of a private nature, and, tak Ing up a grain sampler, he left thi room. The sound of his heavy boot drew George Buckley's attention, ani looking round he saw his mother. He sympathetic eyes fell beneath his wil< glare. - "I reckon Mr. Hillyer's already tok you," she began. "Yes, he's told me." "Well, thar ain't but one thing fe sensible folks to do," faltered the wom an, "an' that's to make the best of I an' go on tryin' to do our own duty." "Yes," he nodded vacantly, "youar right, mother. Are you going 'home tonight?" "No. I 'lowed It ud look more re spectful to stay till they tuck 'In off lb the mornin'. The sheriff's wife axe< me to spend the night with her in th< jail house, so I could be nigh 'im." George Buckley shuddered visibly but he said nothing. It gave Mrs Buckley the opportunity she was look ug for. "George, I reckon bein' young as yo1 are an'--an' mixi' with folks here i Darley that hain't never been in see] a mess, It goes harder with you than i does with me, away out thar in thi mountains, but [ wish you wouldn' take it so hard. You eayn't help yori pa's doin's. No, you cayn't, an' n< right minded folks ain't a-goin' to blamE you. As fer me"-she paused an in stant as she began to roll her sunbon net n her fat, red hands-"why, m3 boy, I feel, jest like a awful load wa! tuck off'n me. I cayn't help It. It mal not be human-I don't know-but feel est that a-way. You think yorE cross is hard to bear, but fer fiftees year I've hardly slept a sound night'! sleep, expectin' an' expectin' the offi pers o' the law to ride up an' hello a the fence. An' keepin' his secrets law, that's the wust-of it, fer he wouk tell me every blessed bit o' devilmen he ever was in. It all began away back fifteen year ago, when he fell of his wagon an' struck his head agin rock. He never got over that; it madE 'im as ill as a snake an' mad at ever' body, even his best friends. George I want to, tell you how 'he did oncE when" "Don't, don't, don't'" the young mai ried. I know enough. I don't wan you ever to speak to me of his crimes.' "Well, I won't, then," promised the woman. "I reckon I've heard so mued of his doin's that it don't horrify mi as much as it would you. Well, I'l go on back. I'mi goin' to Webber 6 Land's an' 1l1y him a change o' under clothes an' some socks." When she had reached the big en trance of the warehouse she saw Hill yer In the center of the building, walk lg back and forth, his gray head hang ing low, as If in troubled meditation Turning as if from a sudden impulse she went and joined him. The tw< faced each ther. "I smelt liquor on 'Im," she saih tersely. "I stood nigh to 'im; he's hac 'im a dram, Mr. Hillyer." "Yes, he's had a drink or two, Mrs Buckley." "Whar'd lhe git his whisky?" "Jake followed 'ima an' seed 'im a Hillhouse's bar. I hain't said a word about it. It don't do one bit 0' gooc to preach to a man all upset in mind an' half full at that.". "No, yo're plumb right, an' noboda kin drive George. i'm powerfulll afraid this !<goin' to be his downwart start, Mr. Hillyer." "Don't say that!" The words werE spoken almost in a groan, and thE mechant's sympathetic lace seemec wrung with inward pain. "Don't sa3 that," lhe repeated, under his breath "We mustn't lose hope-we mustn't d< The old woman siared at the workini face for a moment in silence; then shE asked abruptly. "Mr. Iiillyer, who if that family o' Cranstons that's comt here from Virginia? "Oh. you'v'e heard o' them?" salt ilyer taking a breath. "Majoa Cranston's a member of a fine olt family, a regular F. F. 'V.; he own! six or seven farms in this county an has ai lot o' investments all over thE country. He' moved here about sL2 months ago beena'se the climate agree! with 'im, an' he hain't very strong George got acquainted with his daugh ter, a pretty, likely gal, but as prouc as a queen. an' they've been gooc friends ever since. She's well educated an' so's he, an' they get along power ful well together. Have you ever seet 'er, Mrs. Buckley?" "Yes, once." answered the woman "an' I never shall forget It, fer it show ed me plainer what a fine charactem George has than anything he cee done. Thar's a lot o' meddlin' folk! out at he oen Mr. h11er. an' thE repor-c got out at smee reuroe go i his schoolin' an' you tuck 'im in with you that he was ashamed o' me. They kept this talk up, an' when he got to goin' here an' yan with Lydia Cran ston it got wuss, an' some of 'emlow ed that the girl didn't know-whasort o' scrub kin George had. This.got-to George somehow, an' one day-when I was at Grove Level camp,ground-witit some o' my neighbors, George-fetched 'er out along with some othercouples of town folks. An' whenhe-seeme a-settin' in front o' Mrs.jkellows''tent with some more women he-fetchedithe gal right up to me. He was sorter pale an' excited, but he retchedidown an' tuck my hand an' lifted me up, an' says be. 'Miss Cranston, I want you to mal.e the acquaintance o' my mother'-no that wasn't it exactly. This was it, 'Miss Cranston, I want you to meet my mother,' an' me 'n' her shook hands. It was awful, Mr-,Hill yer. I've got a little more sense 'In a jay bird, an' I seed through It. I seed, moreover, that while she was a perfect lady, she was sorter set back. She-got red in the face an' was all flustered in what she said, but he stopped that talk out our way an' showed what hewas. "Yes, he's all right, Mrs. Buckley. The old man swallowed. "Maybe," ventured the old woman tentatively, "niaybe he's in love wlith that gal, Mr. Hillyer, an' knows she hain't the sort-that her folks hain't the sort-to overlook a-a" "That's just it, Mrs. Buckley," said the merchant with firmness, "an' that accounts for his misery an' the whis ky. This thing has hit 'Im away be low the belt. Thar's no two ways about it. I'm dead afeard It's goin' to undo all that's been done." The old woman raised her eyes to- the troubled face before her and stared steadily. "Let's hope not," she said. "Shorely the Lord will show us some way to-to avoid that" Hillyer dropped his eyes, and,,.turn ing toward the door, the old woman slowly shambled out. CHAPTER II. T was now about sundown, and Hil' er started home. He pass ed the postoffice, went into the little building, looked absently Into his lock boy, and then, taking .A street that led past the town park and several of the most pretentious churches, be soon reached his house, which was a two story brick building with an old fashioned white veranda and an L. The house, like many others in the place, stood on a big lawn shad ed by large oaks, magnolias and mul berry trees. A wide walk bordered with stunted rosebushes of some cheap variety and covered with gravel reached from the gate to the steps. Along the side fence was a row of bee hives, and frisking about in the yard was a young calf. Mrs. Hillyer was in the sitting room with her niece, a rather plain girl of thirty, Miss Hortense Snowden, whe had been -living with the Hillyers sinc~e the death of her parents, twelve months before. They both rose at the sound of the merchant's step in the wide, un carpeted ball, and when he bad enter ed they stood waiting for him to sit down before resuming their seats at the open fireplace, in which some dry hick ory logs on old fashioned brass headed dog irons were cheerfully ablaze, fur nishing the chief light of the shaded room.. "Well, anybody would know from his looks how the case come out," said Mrs. Hillyer as she sat down and spread out her calico skirt. "An' ef It had 'a' been dark I could 'a' read the news in the way he put his feet dowi in the ball." She was a short, cheerful looking woman past fifty. Her eyes were almost black, very keen, and they flashed at all times with a merriment that seemed as much a part of her a! electricity is a part of an electric bat tery. Her hair was abundant and red dish brown and fell In intractable waves over her brow and ears. "Yes, it not only went clean agin the old man, but Judge Moore p'lntedly re fused to cut it down to a fine." Hill ye's voice had a tone of deep de jection as he said this, and he kept his eyes on the fire. "An' I kin see you mighty nigh had a spasm over it," replied Mrs. Hillyer. "Lawsy me, ef I never found anything 'to 'worry about till I worried over the just punishment leveled on the head ' that old scamp I'd go to my grave without a gray hair or a wrinkle. That's the trouble with you an' George both. You are not carryin' out the Scriptural injunction not to kick agin the pricks. I don't know exactly wha' the good book says "bout It. I disre member. In fact, I (Un't know that]I ever run acrost it in print myself, but you bet it's that. My father, who eat "an' slep' with the Bible in his 'hand, used to always keep sayin', when folks was continually a-complainlin', 'Don't kick agin the pricks.' An' he was right. Ef you set down on a board with a tack in it, the harder you set the more tack you git, an' that's so with lfe. It's full of tacks, an' don't you forgit It The Lord put old Buck' ley in jail to keep 'im in a bunch of his kind, so the devil wouldn't root around among good folks so much to keep up with 'im, but- Oh, no! You ain't a-goin' to put up with it, an' right now yore face is sour enough lookin' to spile cream in the middle 0' Decem' ber." "I was think'in' about George," said Hillyr softly. "It's mighty nigh kill in im." "That's so, Aunt Martha," spoke up Hortense Snowden. "It's awful on him. Why, just think of it. The best people In Darley receive him and like him. Hie was rising rapidly, but a thing like this, as proud and sensitive as he is, will almost kill him." "You kin laugh an' make sport as much as you want to," said Hillyer, more boldly, "an' you needn't kick agin nothin' unless you want to, but it's jest like Hortie says. He won't be able to face the music. He's all right when he ain't driv' too fur, but this has al ready started 'im to drinkin' ag'in." "Oh, uncle, you don't mean It!" "Yes, it has," groaned the merchant, 1"an' the Lord only knows what it's go. in' to end." "Huh! I say, then, George Buckley hai't the man I tuck 'im fer," retorted Mrs. illyer. "I wish I could ketch 'Im takin' a dram on account o' this thing. I'd give 'im a talk that ud make 'ti" "Go git blind, soakin' drunk," inter rupted H~illyer as he rose and went out through the kitchen to the stables to see if his favorite horse had been at tended to. When he was gone, his wife got up and punched the fire with the poker. "I reckon you think I'm hard heart ed," she said to her silent niece, "but, Horte, it's the only way to git on with~ 'im. You don't know nothin'. I never let yore folks know what i've been through. I'd 'a' been crazy or dead long ago ef the Lord hadn't showed-me how to make lIght o' serious things. Ive had a heap n' tiugh times, butI rmeNTINEn N NEyT PE.] The Manning Times IS CLUBBING WITH THE Weekly News and Courier AND Life and Letters, A. Southern Magazine. We will send THE TIMES and the Twice-+-Week News and Courier for $2 per year; Or we will send THE TImES and Life and Letters for $2; Or both The News and Courier and Life and Letters with TiE TImES for $2.50 per year. This is an excellent opportunity for the reading public. The News and Courier is- one of the best State newspa pers in the country; it gives State, national and the news of the world. Lire and Letters is a monthly magazme puonsneat Knoxville, Tenn., and has among its contributors some of tie fluest literary talent of the Sonth. We regard THE Ti fortunate in being able to club with it. Subscribe Now and secure this magnificent Southern magazine with THE TniEs for $2 per year; or The Weekly News and Courier with THE TIM~s for $2 per year; or all three, THE Tmo.s, Weekly News and Courier and Life and Letters for $,.50 per year. Hardware. The place to buy your goods is where you can SAVE A DIME. Belting or Lace Leather, Oils or Babbit Metal, Valves or Injectors, Oil Cups or Gauge Glasses, Packing or Files, - Wrenches or Steam Gauges? If so come to see us and save money. DICKSON HIRDWIRE COMPANY, Levi Block. PEOPLE'S WAREHOUSE Manning, S. C. We are now having good sales every day. Our buyers are anxious for Tobacco and no pile is neglected. We are here to see that your-Tobacco brings the Highest Market Price. If you want the worth of your Tobacco, sell at PEOPLE'S WAREHOUSE. Yours for business, R. D. CLARK, Manager.