The Lexington dispatch. [volume] (Lexington, South Carolina) 1870-1917, 1896-02-26


nent cure and the most dreaded
habitual sick headaches yield to its
influence. We urge all who are
afiicted to procure bottle, and give
this remedy a fair trial. In cases of
habitual constipation Electric Bitters
cures by giving the needed tone to
the bowels, and few case long resist
the use of this medicine. Try it
once. Large bottles only Fifty cents
at the Bazaar.
shelves. One would say notary's Office
and study.
Cur good nan breathes at ease. He is
at home. Before beginning his work be
opens large closet, takes out pair of
heavy silk sleeves, which he draws On
carefully; also a little red plate and
some pieces CT sugar. Ee then peels his
apples with an air Of satisfaction. The
fact is, one could hardly find a more
cheerful little Office, better lighted or
arranged il such good order. But, sim
gularly enough, one hears the noise Of
water everywhere; it surrounds you,
envelops you, very much as if you were
in the cabin Of a steamer.
Below you the Seine rolls and tum-
bles at the arches Of the bridge, making
heaps Of foam at this point, always clog
ged by floating debris. Even il the
house itself, all around the Office, there
is a noise Of trickling water. l know not
why, but the sound makes you shiver.
1t drops upon a hard surface and, re-
bounding, falls upon broad stone floor.
There are marble tables which make it
seem still more cold.
What do they wash at this strange
laundry? What inenaceable stain? At
times, when the trickling and pattering
cease, down below we hear the sound
of solitary drops Of water, one by one,
like snow in a thaw or the beginning of
shower. We might think the fog was
condensing, gathering upon the walls
and continually dripping. 1t does not dis
turb our good man. He is entirely taken
up pwith his apples, which are beginning
to steam in the little red plate, giving
cut faint perfume of burned sugar,
and the pretty song seems to prevent
him from hearing the sound of the wa
tcr-tbat horrible dripping!
''Are you ready, recorder" says a
hoarse voice from the adjoining room.
Our recorder casts a glance at his apples
and leaves them, with regret. Through
the half open door current Of cold air,
smelling of reeds and marshes, strikes
him, ard & vision of clothes hanging On
a line faded blouses, workinglnen S
garments, calico dress stretched at full
length by the sleeves and dripping,
dripping!
He has finished and re-enters. He lays
down upon the table some small objects,
all wet, and gees to the stove to thaw
out his fingers, benumbed and reddened
by the cold.
"Thcy must have been mad in such
weather as this" he said shivering.
"What is the matter with them all?"
When he is again comfortably warm,
and when tie sugar melts and runs over
the side of the plate, he breakfasts in a
corner Of the Office. While eating he
opens one Of his great books and COM
placently turns over the leaves. This big
book is beautifully kept; the lines are
straight and headed with blue ink, with
little reflections Of gold powder and a
blotter for every page. Everything is in
perfect order.
Business seems to be good. Our re-
corGer has the coDtented air CT en- &C
countant locking over a good balance at
the end of tie year.
While he tulDs over the pages with
delight they open the doors Of the ad-
joining rcon. There is the scuod of
crowd upon tic stcno pavement and
hushed voices as if in church. =.
Goa, how young size is! What pityn
And there is hushing and whis
pcring. What is it to our good man
Whether she is young Or not? He tran
gully finishes his apples and draws to-
ward him the objects which he placed
On the table bot q short time before.
A thimble full CT sand, pocketbook
containing sou, a little pair Of rusted
scissors, SO rusted that they never can
be used again. Oh, something else! a
working girls book, all the pages stuck
together; torn, defaced letter-a few
words are still legiDle-'the child-no
money-a month as nurse"
The bookkeeper shrugs his shoulders
as if to Say, Il have seen all that be-
fore" Then be takes his pen, blows
away carefully the bread crumbs which
have fallen upon his book, makes lit
tie preparatory gesture before getting
his hand in the proper position, and
then, il large round letters, he writes,
"Felicie Rameau, metal burnisher, age
III years. From the French Of Al
phonse DauGet il Short Stories.