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lt"?.1?."!!,'.,!!,,',,).,,!,,,.Jlt,l|l(',,ll,( BI D?RISOE, REESE <fc CO. EDGE?TELD, S. C., MAY 2, 1866. .. ... .,.,,1.i<,|1?|MM????,M?1IMIl?IM>.nil?lirn??liOllMl?-HM|??l,?l,i?H.l||lli?l???.<l.l ?iMiiiii.i.uM.MK'i.ii.i'n^i.miii.m.M.iiutMiti.ii.m.Mi..*>...?.<. m VOLUME XTXI.--NO. 18. NEW MILLINERY F?NCI'GOODS, JUST OPENING AT MRS. D. O'CONNOR'S, (Next to Gray, Mnllarky ? Co's.) No. 226 Broad St., -Augusta, G-eorgia, CONSISTING OF Straw, Silk and Illusion iiounets ; . Straw and Leghorn Hats :. Bridal Wreaths and french Floiver* ; Spring Bonnet and Trimming Rib bons ; Fancy Dress Buttons ; Bogle Gimps ; Kid Gloves, Lace Mitts and Farasols ; (ire ned nie and Berege V eil sus ; Blaek and White Lace Teils ; Thread Laces, &c.r ?Site., Embracing every variety and style of Goods in the above line, togethor with a grout many other desirable Goods cot enumerated, to which sho calls the attention of thc Ladies. Auguata, Mur 27 -Im 13 Spring Clothing. THE fashionable public, and those who desire good fitting CLOTHING, manufactured of the finest Saxony Wool or Linen, unmixed with COTTON, whoro the groatcst durability and finish are com bined, will find it to their iuterest to examine oar stock. Wo are otTerin-? AT THE PRESENT time greater bargain? than can bc obtained in any other Fashionable Clothing Establishment. Give us a call and you will fiud our PRICES arc extremely low. Econorrist? who wish the advantage of buyiog-Spring Clothing at THE CHEAPEST rates, will Cnd it to their interest to give us neall. To our old patrons, we would: respectfully say that every ARTICLE has beeu markod _<jo}^ntao?T "fl - ' U??. prosent scarcity of cash, and cannot be surpassed anywhere IN AMERICA for cheapness. Our stock is varied, and hns been selected with great care. We keep a full stock of extra sir.c Garments, to meet the demand? of those who ennnot get flited nt any otherjestublisbnicn;. Call and examine for yourselves, at I. SIMON & CO'S. FAS t? i o s ABLE CLOTHING ESTABLISHMENT, 224 Broad Street. Augusta, GR. Mar 21 tf 12 Drugs, Medicines, &c. PLUMB & LEITNER, * 212 BROAD STREET, AUGUSTA, GA., WOULD resp^ctfullv invite tho attention ol MERCHANTS, '.PLANTERS and PHY SICIANS to their Stoek of PURK MEDICINES', CHEMICALS, DRUGS, PAINTS, OILS, BRUSHES, FRENCH WINDOW GLASS, CHOICE PERFUMERY, SOAPS, ie?, Atc, &c. PLUMB & LEITNER, 212 Broad Street, AUGUSTA, GA. Mar 7 3m 10 AUGUSTA HOTEL, BY S. M. JONES & Z. Ai RICE. WE respectfully invite our old friends and the travelling public to give us a call. Noth ing shall he wanting on our part to sntisfy the in ner and outer wants ?f man. JONES & RICE. P. S. The Georgia and Central Railroad money taken at I'M cents., tho Union Bunk of South Car olina at 50 cts., and the bank of Athens 30 ct.?. Augusta, Nov. 20, 6m 47 SUBSTITUTE FOR PERUVIAN GUANO Baugb'j Raw Bone n?Mw-j Ml J 33axigh. <& Sons. M j NJJFA C TUREE S & PE OP RIETOES No. 20, Sontli Delaware Avenue, PHILADELPHIA. ' This valuable MANURE has beet beforo the agricultural public, under ?ne name, for twelve years past, and its character for "vigor of action and permanence in t-flVct is well estaMMied. Be fore tho war it was introduced to some extent in the P.?ut!tern States, and was found ti be highly ada].teil to Cotton, Tobacco and all trops. Ami as a perfect substitute for Peruvian Cu nno, (afforded at less than one half tho cost.) it has been adopted by agriculturists of known in telligon'e and di>eritnioation. It is warrnutcd not to exhaust the soi', bat on tho contrary per manently to improve it. Tho galee now amount tn many thousand ?otis annually, and the facili ties for its manufacture are extensive and com. plete. pMinphlet. describing its distinctive claims, may he had on application to the undersigned, aijent of the mauttfa^tn'rers, from whom thi MANURE may at all times be obtained. jfr Planters ?nd Dealors would do well to tend in their orders early to J. Os JIIATHEWSOIY, General Af"ta, AUGUSTA, GA. Feh 13 . .. "' tf 7 " FOB SALE, AT H. A Gray'a Watoh Repairing Shop, a lot of SPLENDID BUNNING CLOCKS, wy low. Wm-fi tn hwy im Afc? ? * Thoughts of Heaven. No sickness there No weary-wasting of tho frame away : No fearful shrinking from tko midnight nir"1; No dread of summer's bright and fervid ray. No bidden grief No wild and chccr'.css vision of despair; No vain petitions fora swift relef; No toarful eyes, no broken hearth aro there ! Care-has no home . - Within the realm of ceaseless praiso and song Its billows break away and melt in foam, . Far from the mansions of th o spirit throng. Thc storm's black wing Is never spread athwart celestial Fkios ! Its wailings blend not with thc voice of spring, As eome too tender floweret fades and dies ! ? No night distils ? Its chilling dews upon the tender frame ; No moon is neodod there! the light which fills That land of glory, from its Maker came ! No parted friends O'or mournfo.1 recollections havo to weep j No bed of death enduring love attends, j Ti' watch the coming of a pulseless sleep. ' No blasted flower, Or withered bud, eolcsti?^'gardens know ; No scorching blast or fierce-descending shower Scatters destruction like a ruthless foe. No battle word Startles tbe sacred host with fear and dread; Tho song of peace, creation's morning heard, Is sung wherever angel minstrels tread. Lot us depart, [f homo like this.await tho weary soul ! Look up, thou strickon one ?' Thy wounded Shall bleed no more at sorrow's stern control. With faith, our guide', White robed and innocent to lead tho way, Why fear to plunge in Jordan's rolling tide, And find the ocean of eternal day? BETRAYED; OR BE RN ICE WHATELY'S SORROWS. (COSCLtlDEDj Chnpter IV.-Brighter Prospects. June was hiding ber hot face in the wood land. The brown rooks sweat as they leaned over the -streams. The trees shook all over with delight when a stray breeze wantoned idly into their arms. The pasture ro<es opened the reddest of petals ulong the Ledge rows, and sent out the most fragrant of perfumes upon the chance breezes of the morning. The short grain was waving on the sunny slopes, and the young corn showed itself) spreading its leaves in the broad fields. Just over the large hill in Mayview, Air. Spaulding'? well kept farm budded ali over iu fruitful promises. The applo and plum creva .rrirp?'K ^??*I.I>C?*?.^.J,":r ?i,n,|jMnt bios oms, but held unseen among th"eTr^;T?cTT leaves the germs for the autumn's fruitage. .His hills were dotted with glossy kine, and white sheep nibbled the grass of the slopes; The family was a prosperous and happy one. Emily Spaulding bad growti to womanhood under the happiest cirtumstauces. It was the hardest thing in the world for her to be lieve that there was wrong and wickedness in the world. She had married an honest hearted farmer, who, living apart from the cities. had escaped the allurements of vice. They had only one child, a boy of two yeats and a girl of lourtceu lived with them. She was an orphan niece, who for the last fivt years had made their house her home. " Neal," said the wife, at the close of ? sweet June da)', " I can't get along alone i! you are bound to build another barn before j haying comes on. You will have to secure ? the services of five more men, and they with j yourself and Bentley will make seven men to cook for. 'Hetty must he kept at school, and Harry needs looking* after, and-" " Don't enumerate any more, Emily. You certainly need help badly enough." "And five cow3<o milk, and all the wool to spin, the fowls to tend-r-'3 " Forbear f' he cried. "I shall not dare to seek a girl with the knowledge of what will be before you women ; and faith ! where in all Mayview do you think of a lassie that can bc spared to assist us?" " That is just the trouble, Neal. I cannot think of one woman, old or young, who, for ? love or money, could be sparea to help me." , There was a low knock at the door. Emily arose, at the same time with her husband, he . passing out to the field, readily divining that , the faint summous at the door wns that of a woman or child. Mrs. Spaulding was sur prised into silence at the apparition before her. A young girl, fair and pallid as a mar- , ble, with a bit of a baby on her breast, look- , ing up tc her with great, hungry eyes, crav- ( ing. protection. , I am very weary," said a voice of softest , intonation ; can my baby and I tarry here , to-night ? L-will fait ly recompense you for : your trouble.'' I Inexpressibly moved, Mrs. Spaulding put ; out her hands to lake the babe from the pale youDg creature. *. Come in. Yes, indeed dear, you are wei- j come. Bless me, what a little babe ! How ? old is it.'" And she kissed it as she went into the sitting-room. " A little more than two months, madam." Mrs. Spaulding hushed her noisy little boy, and depositing the atom of a babe on the lounge, where Mr. Harry rose on his tip Uro to esamiue it, she turned to her gudtt, and' removing her bonuet and shawl, asked her what she would have to eat. u Just a bowl of bread and milk ; a very little. I am too weary to be hungry." The kind-hearted wifo returned -with the refreshments, nr.d:.sitting down by the, sleep- , ing habe, took Harry in her lap while point ing out the tiny hands and fingers, allowiug tito mother to finish her repast in silence. After carrying away the bowl for safe keel ing from Master Harry's investigations, Emi ly sat down beside the young stranger, whose head had dropped apon'ber band, and strove to make some common place remarks, to whicli her guest answered only in monosylla bles. Drrtctly Hetty came in and took Har ry off to bed, and then Emily, whose heart wai lull from stud) ing the bini and weary f.ice before her, laid her hand on that of her guest, saying in a sisterly voico, " You are in trouble, dear, are you not? Could you confide in me? I will be as true a friend as you have on earth." " Ah me I" was the hopeless answer, " I have not a friend on earth, and no relative save this little innocent child of shame." And the eobs that had swelled her heart to bursting evor ataco her eyes had been lifted to meet Emily Spalding's loving glance, now broke forth, shaking her lorin with tue|rdeen atid convulsive power. For answer Mrs. Spaulding drew th? bowed head to her bosom, and SP oothed the cluster ing hair from the pallid, blue-veined temples. ' Calm yourself, dear," said the soft, pity ing comforter, "and freely tell me all, I cannot understand such wickedness as has been enacted towards you ; but He who brought comfort to Hager and her son in the wilderness hafh opened a well of love for you." y My God, I thank thee.!" waa the fervent response... ., Calming herself immediately, for Bernice bad great porers of i?S cot?rol, ?he ia a lit SSSSSSSSSSBBSSBB?SSBSSSS^SSS Ile time narrated L. r whole life to tho ; time. " I cannot conceive of so much wick and desolation being rife in the world havo mingled so little with it that 1 know how to judge." A? Bernice finished her narrative s the same question to Mrs. Spaulding tl had asked so often before, il there w person thereabouts that would be wi I take ber and her babe and allow her t: in return for ber board, until such t lier child should, bo old enough to w ber in receiving wages. " Why, dear," said Emily, " my ht and I were vrondering who I could pc get to help.me this summer, when yoi knock broke up tho conversation. Pc we can arrange it for yon to stay with i "But your husband,-" said Bernice trepidation. " He may object to-me.v " Never," said Emily, warmly. " He much better than I.cs you can well ima] " Is it possible that I am likely to r< with you ?" was the eager quotion, as i earnestness she laid her hand upon tl her hostels. ' " Why, yes, dear," was the reply : " I 30. At least, the matter rests wholly with " Then no wonder my feet trod thc i highway so zealously without my div whither I wont. My heart swells to but with speechless thankfulness. I am no ?ken of the Lord."' " Wc never are, dear j and now ja! Jown beside the babe, until I go down t Seid to acquaint ray husband with your j idential arrival." Tossing a pillow beside the sleeping in Mrs. Spaulding started for ber husband :ould not forbear looking in npon her :bilcl, und thanking God, as she leaned it, that it had a good father, and resoivii be a sister and friend to tho poor, frier i jirl whom God had sent to ber home. Coming back from her errand in the i ?f the evening, she came softly into the ;irrg-room, hoping to find her guest aslee " What does he say ?" questioned Beri Jtarting np nervously, feeling almost temporal salvation'rested upou the sente u He says you are a good brave girl, bids you tarry with ns until you yourself :he departure." A flush, like the glow of sunset, fas >ver the pale face, lightiDg.the clear eyes i radiencc. r How good, liow good you arel" " Whytes, maybe ; but wekeepthinl ;hat perhaps, if not ourselves, our chile nay wander on the earth knowing no fri jut God ; and if we do ns we should do, CHOW, dear, He will never forsake ns. No ind, stooping, she raised the infant in inns with a true, motherly tenderne*! nu:.: 1er. " come, dear, you are weary ! )ccd rest." "Notuntii on this very spot, where ihowc? nie that Ile bad not cast me oil inger, but proved to me that 'He had guii ny wauderings, I kneel in thankfulness." She slipped down beside her babe, t Smily, deeply moved, sank softly beside t dr. Spaulding in soft slippers approached i teard, and looking in at tho door, ho ret rea1 Hcn?v wfah (hw filing tlmt he"~Sh0Uld 1 ntriide upon tie Pcenc. "There, dear," when they were once tairs, lie down as quickly as possible, a le?'p in peaco ;" and she kissed the motl md ber babe as she withdrew. Bernice shed the happiest tears that nif. bat had f>ver fallen from her eyes. ? orrow and shame through ijvhich she h >assed had taught her where to look I trength ; and Lolding her two bunds out he darkness she thus signified that she ga .hem to the Almighty palm to hold and gui 1er through life. Peaceful sleep, like abroe ng dove, hovered over her. Long after her eyelids were closed frc Itter exhaustion, Emily Spaulding and h luaband conversed upon her sad tale. Th ivtre united in their wish for Uer to rema vith them. In the early morning the tuneful bir iroused the wanderer from sleep, and liftii ?or head from the pillow she contd not ret zo that her wanderings were over. She aros br the family were astir, and taking from h imall bundle a dark, substantial dress, si irrayed herself quickly,and leaving herbal Lcieep, sue descended the stairs and entere ?ot wit i Ot trepidation, the presence of Al spaulding and the rest of the family. " You aie up oar)y, Bernice," 8aid her ho ess, smiling upon her. " Bernice Whatle Mr. Spaulding," she added. Mr. Spaulding simply said " Good mon og," and shook her hand in a strong, carnes sympathetic maunor that conveyed a worl if meaning from palm to palm. "Now, Bernice," he remarked,.as they s: iround the breakfast-table, " make yourse entirely at home at our table and in our housi r\.ct yourself freely." " thank you," was thc )ow response. When thc meal was over and the bab ?Jresa?d and laid in Master Harry's utilise jnb,-for it was one of those good babic that seldom ci ?ed-Emily "went about bc morning work, and Bernice assisted with ^uick; and ready hind. She proved hersel in expert dairy maid, churning Jhp thick rich cream into golden butter, salting am printing it in a way thut entirely won Mxt Spaulding's confidence. And the new barn went up without a com plaint from Emily, for no one could mah 3ucb nice 'puddings and pies as Bernice, sh il ways having a natural tact that way, aide; by tho tutelage of the economical Datei Midge. What a treasure she proved bereel to the over-taxed houe-e-wife j her cheerfql unvarying temper acting as a sedativo upoc the rather.nrrvous organization of Emily. It was a pleasant sight of a summer evo ning to look in upon the group in the sitting room. Mrs. Spaulding sewing upon thefami ly's work, and Bernice, in the easy chair, witt her baby on one knee and two year old Har ry on tho other, his little tongue running on in a wild, blackbird kind ot gabbling con cerning the baby. Master Harry sonictimea took in his head for Berny to rock him to sleep, and Emily permitted it, in turn rock ing-lho fatherless stranger babe upon ber motherly bosom. ^ And the color, faint, it is true, as thc tinge of a seashell, aime stealing to Bernice's cheek, and thc sad mouth grow of a rich car nation. The babe-Marah-was a lovely child, showing plainly enottgh that the stain of illegitimacy did not mar her physical for mation. A fist and firm friend?bip grew and strengthened daily between thepe two. women SO strangely met ; and Emily caught herself wondering hpw ?ho could live without this essential t winselt. Beru ?te wad sunh a reso lute and courageous soul too ; for, did danger menace, she calmly stood in front, receiving as if by right the first fierce blows. So when Mr. Spaulding, one day in the winter, tho first winter that she spent with them, went to the distant timber lot alone to fell some pitch-pines for making shingles, and failed to come at sunset or at dusk, and tho deep, dark evening foll without him, Ber nice harnessed thc horse to the sled (as Bent ley was away with the pther team) and, went along the lonesome wood road to the forest, leaving Emily in a siate'bordering on dis traction. She-Mrs. Spaulding-was easily overcome ; fear and excitement rendering her incapable of .connected thonght, let alone provident ablion. Not so with Bernice. Whatever she might have been under differ ent aqd happier circumstances, tho trial through which she had passed had developed within bir the most absolute and perfect con trol of every feeling and faculty. Knowing full well that ?one terri bio Accident iud be fallen her kind friend, she only remarked, " See to the babies, Mrs. Spaulding, during mr absence." " Who do you thiuk of getting to go to the woods, B.tnice?" "No one; it is too late to waste time in searching for some one to go. I shall har ness Billy to the sled and proceed directly to the woods." " 0, Bernice it grows dark rapidly. Har ness* and let me go instead." But knowing, ber so well, knowing that she wau not courageous, aud was to nervous that abe would leave the horse and dee at tbo first strange sound, she knew not whither, Bernice did not enter the house, but giviDg Billy a slap with the reins, he tore up the slippery hill in great glee, and striking thc familiar road to the fores), dashed along, throwing balls of snow and particles of crust into the young girl's face, who; holding by a stake in the sled, spoke to him once in a whi!?, and slapping his back with the reins she trusted to him to carry ber to his master, for he had travelled the road at least, once a day all winter. It wa3 a cold three miles' ride, and dark enough after she entered the. woods, save tho reflection from the snow. She was among the falleb trees at last. The sled squeaked and groaned' on the frosty road. She drew Billy in, preparing to shout, when she dis covered a pile of brush by the wayside, and from its vicinity Spaulding^ voice called "Halloo, Bentley, for God's sake hurry along. A tree rolled upon my leg, breaking it in a terrible manner. I have sufTered great agony for more than two hours. Get mo home as quickly as possible. I am crazed wi tH pain." Thc sled turned creaking in thc road, and Billy, stopping carefully back, pushed it quickly down towards the heap of brush and the man's voice. Stopping directly obedient to the firm grasp of the slender hand upon the bit, Bernice came round to tho brush and said, " Can you drag j ourself partly, Mr. Spauld ing ? I am afraid that I shall barm you more than you would hurt yourself." " Great Heavens ! is it you Bernice ?" " Yes, sir ; your wife is nearly dead with fear, and Bently has not come back." " Poor, Emily 1 Ab, Heavens ! But do not mind my groane ; drag me along." In two moments be was laid upon the buf falo on th? floor of the sled, with his head upon the horse-blanket, and quick as a flash Bernice passed a rope over him aud across the sled to hold him as steadily as possible. t"Now, Bernice," exclaimed the strong man, " do pot mind my groans nor yells. Drive, drive, my girl, and get me to the warmth of heme as soon as possible." She tossed bira the end of the rope to help steady himself better, drew Billy carefully into the smooth toad, and whipped bim i uto a run. More than once, after they cameinto thc main road where the stones and ground -.vere bare, Billy's heels sent a shower ol sparks out from -the collision of flint and steel ; bat setting her teeth bard together as the cmothered groins came up from the tor tured man, she heh! by the stake and ran the horse the entire distance, making the suffe- i ^'J..'.^'"; fe-^--?LfiWt ri.irwinn AK I far as the ride was concerned, -wtmty with a | cry of terror came out to them. " Oh, what is it? what is it? 0 Bernice, Bernice, is he dead 9" " Dead I no, indeed, dear. J have broken my leg, that is all. Bear a hand here, and help me in." With a hush of thankfulness the trembling wife assisted Bernice in getting her husband into tho bouse and upon the bcd. "Now, Mrs. Spaulding," said the brave girl, looking with her clear eyes upon the ex cited and weeping woman, "lam going to the city for Doctor Myers. Billy is well warmed for the ride. I am ready dressed, and," laying her hand upon Emily's shaking palra, ' we will have relief bete in no time. I'll ".brow tbo harness on tbe sled, Mr. Spaulding," " Anywhere, anywhere, Bernice ? and il Myers is not at home, get thc hrst doctor you can.'1 M It'8 only five miles," she ssid as she went out. " PH go there quickly, ind ride more slowly back." In less than five minutes Elly again ran up tbe bill, and being lightly lotded this time, and going against the wind atsichhigh speed that his rider had to stoop marly upon his neck to prevent the icy blast from bearing her breath ia triumph away. She rode like, a mosstrooper, and ere she ouUl hope for tho sight the lights pf the cit] gleamed be fore her. She was fortunato in fiadin* the surgeon coming into his yard with quit?a fresh horse; he turned, upon learning her erand, and rode off at a swift gallop. Turning likewise, she kept the bells within hearingdistance for a while, and then, being convinced that thc man was hurrying at the top, of his speed, sha rodo mofe slowly, alloijing the good steed ti) gradually cool off his jweating sides. But directly, thinking of Emjy's trembling nerves, she rushed forward ag?n, overtaking Dr. Myers as he rude into thefrard. Giving the horse to Mr. Bentley, ibo had come back during her absence, sty entered the jjousp. *" I While warming hpr chilli! fingers she presented such a c lin, untrehbling appear ance that Myers, who had mat en examina tion of thc limb and oscertaijitig it to be a severo compound fracture, cojld not forbear askiDg, "Would you mind helpingJas a bit, Miss ? His wife is very nervous, anqBantley might bungle the business." . p. "1 am all ready, sir," sa'J she, throwing ber cloak and hood upon tho table, and rol ling her sleeves to the elbow. Myers smiled at thc businejs like prepara tions. " That's it, ray girl. I can tjustyour steady nerve." For an answer she looked kp at him with kop clear, steady eye3 as the^repaired to the sufferer's roora. _ j It was a painful and di^i* task, requir ing rapidity, lirmuess, tact am nicety in set ting splintering and bandaflng; and while Emily wiped tho sweat frorujher husband's brow, Bernice's fingers fell fith the precis ion of clock-work upon th) broken limb, never once too often, never |>ne moment be hindhand, And during Mr. Spaulding long.period ol suflbringfrom the fracture, Ehily was relieved of household cares, Bernie carrying all things along with evenness fod profit. " What should we do witkut her ?" often questioned the wife. j " What should wc ?" ecbfcd the husband. Ant} Marah, Who for sM) time bad sat alone, now aspired to thefcecond stage of worldly experience. She atl mpted creeping acrots the floor, much to M mer Harry's de light, who was convulsed ?tb glee at the novelty of the sight. lathe child were strangely blended the featun 0f both parent-.. The mother's rather large; v Jj balanced bead waB beautified with the fatl r!8 curling black hair. Under the father's ride, high brow sparkled the clear, bright e; s of the mother. The'father's ?ose and chj thc mother's beautiful mouth and oval face ; here, tho father's look ; there, the mi ber's expression indescribably mingled. Chapter Y.-fipnerj Slatter?. The frozen winter craw !(j slowly away. Spring came, and balmy inda and warm sunny days dried the moist re from the damp earth. By and by Maraliwfts seen out of doors, toddling around wit proud little Har ry, wbo held her hand ao firmly as to insure many a fall for himielf in company with the unsteady, baby girl. Mr. Spaulding, now nearly recovered froip liia lameness, went over his farm suggesting improvemenCs for Bentley to execnte. Lip to this f.ime Bernice had steadily re fused any wages in return for her labors. She had bad a few dollars left when she entered upon service, amply sufficient for the few ar ticles ot clothing that herself and infant needed. Entering upon the second year, ene no longer refused a fair compensation. Calm, resolute and self-relying, Bernice had ripened into perfect womanhood. She seemed wholly free from many of the weak failings of humanity. Feeling that she had faced the most terrible experience that could befall her, it seemed as if she had nothing at stake, neither hope, love nor fortune. What then,'of ordinary circumstances, could beset her, of which she should stand in awe ? Ful ly appreciated by her kind friends, the Spauld ings, she had found old Dinah'? prophecy coming true. Her shame and sin had got down from ber bosom and walked away like her babe from ber arms. She had no fears for the future. Shs had been mercifully car ried through tho greatest of human, straits. Friendless aud nearly penniless she had suf fered the penalty of ber sin. She had lived to see the salvation of God, in her caso, physically and spiritually. It was enough for one of bor calm, unwavering faith and trust. I said that the Spauldings appreciated her. Did I say that there was another who more than appreciated her 1 No. ? Weil I must tell you now. The sturdy, young farmer, Bentley, inspired by the admirable traits of her character, had fallen into a wild sort of worship of her, the moro intenso because hidden deeply within his breast. Mrs. Spaulding ere long discovered how matters stood, as far as the young man was, concerned, and, in justice to the inestimable qualities of the fair <?irl, she frankly narrated her entire history. Strange to say it only in creased his admiration of her. He showed himself superior to thc mean prejudices of the world that would have seen only a weak, sinning creature. He swept grandly by ali such prejudices, and adored the attributes of calm, brave and patient fortitude which she had exhibited; rightly judging that one-who dared face the world alone as she hid done, defending and protecting her child-tho cer tificate of her sin-wouldmake tho best and truest wife a man could possess. But Bernice was happily ignorant of his feelings. She put all thoughts of lovers or marriage afar from her, as 'hing3 beyond her reach or coveting, Thus matters stood, and tnlgbt have re mained thus till doomsday under common circumstances for all John Bentley would have dared to say. But a little circumstance broke the icy reserve that he had imposed upon his lips. It.was during the second sum mer of her residence with Emily, that the lit tle incident occurred. Tho meu were in the fields swinging the glistening scythes. The black birds went whistling overhead, while the amorous breezes wooed the senses to the full enjoyment of the out-door air. Little Harry had asked many times to go to the old mill but had been denied, owing to work that 'CulliU tluL IJ6 tell, thal now ijjtnuy concluded" to gratify him, and finish once and for all his pleadiog. So Bernice took Marah along with them. Aa ?hey went pass the mowers, sweating in the hazy warmth, John Bentley lifted his hat to them, nod tossing a bunch of red clover blossoms in Marah's laughing face, he stooped to his work again. But his oye turned from the swath he was cutting to the small, delicate figure of Bernice, bearing the amazingly little baby on her shoulder. His heart was full of lovo for tho brave, young mother and ber beautiful child ; but his scythe swung back and forth, keeping time with the smartest of the mowers. Meantime the women and children had as cended the little eminence between them and the river and the old null, and had gone down the other side out of sight. Harry was wild with delight at the ruined machinery of the mill, and his mother, holding his hand or cautioning him every moment, went over the whole buildiog, which had some time doro an extensive business; but of late years the bed of the stream had change I, running off on its other branch, and so this mill had been ullowed to tumble to decay. They were looking beluw at the water wheel, when Harry, by a mis-step, fell through a hole into the muddy bed of thc stream. A cry of horror escaped them, knowing as they did that there wa3 suilicient depth-of muddy water to drown a mach older child. Emily, divining the danger in a moment, ran scream ing from the mill towards the mon in the field. Bernice as quickly took in the imminent peril of the child, tho more so as he had not once cried out, either being .tunned in thc fall or buried in the mud. Standing Marah upon thc sound part of the lloor, she tore the sash from her own waist, passed it around tho child, and lind bpr to a post to pt'cvenj, a | si like fate of tho babe. Then telling her to to "be quiet while mother goes down after Harry," she, too, passed through the same hole where the child had fallen. She did not jump down into the cavernous depth a3 some bunglers would b,ayo tjono, titus standing a chauce to crush it to death, but holding by the cross-timbers, catching here aud lhere, she came to the bottom. A. hoarse bubbling in the slimy water di rected her where the child had lallen cn its face in the miro. Holding by a small wooden peg, she reached down, seized the little fellow by the skirt of bis dress, and pulled bira up, the mud giving a loud smack as it release! him from its sticky embrace, " Mother's coming, darling," said Bernice, as be begau to struggle, endangering them and threatening an immorsion for both. But the poor child, hall-smothering, strug gled fiercely, demanding the utmost strength of the muscular young arm to hold him safe ly. A sound of quick and beary running reached her ear. John Bentley and another man crashed into tho mill overhead, followed by the terrified mother. u Bernice, for God's sake, where are you ?" cried Emily, distracted, fearing sho knew not what. 11 Herc, here !" Bernice answered, nearly exhausted with tho struggles of thc strong boy. " Come down through the hole, John, Mr. Bentley, as quickly as possible. I cannot bold Harry much longer." John Bentley was coming down with thc agility of a wild-cat. Ile seized the ohild and passed him to thi other man, who, like wise, had partly descended to them, and he, i. turn, tossed him through thc opening in the floor to thc inothor. She ran with him to the lillie spring that bubbled close atliand, and freed bib /cs, nostrils and mouth from the slimy and adhesive mire; Bontley, kneel ing on the floor above, reached down his arms for Bernice, who had climbed up to him in tho same way that she had gone down. Once up she left.John to unbind Marah, who* with one little, fat lineer between her rosebud lip?, had been an astonished spectator of the scene, and hurried out to Emily. Harry sustained no injury except such a strangling as made him shy of the old mill for years. John came up with Marah in his arms, with a faint dash of color in his swarthy cheek, and turning to Emily he said, in a voice of deep feeling- ' " Mrs. Spaulding, your boy would not have lived the twenty minutes or more that trans pired from the time that ho fell through until we got there ?" With au agonized exclamation she clasped him closer to her breast, while Bernice, libe il rally besmeared with mud, walked on cain with a faint, blue line around the mot showing bow mach she knew of the dan the boy had escaped and tho agony of mother's heart if he had perished. ? When Mr. Spaulding arrived home, for tvas absent at the time of the a?cident, shook Bernice^ hand in a ferveut mani: md soon after caught Marah up and kis tier in pure gratitude to the mother. A few days after this, Bernice, with Dayket.en her arm, traversed the interveni ?ray between the orcharcLand the west fie is it was called, in pursuit of strawberri which ripened very late there, owing to t .ank, luxuriance of the grass. It was t pleasantest time in tl-.e day, rivalled, perka Dy the early morning, yet free from the moi ng's dews. It was about two hours bofe ?unset. Thc air was alive with insects o br their evening dance. A scent ol new! nown hay refreshed the senses. From t ?orpulent bunches, where it was rolled up 1 he morrows's cartiug, the sentinel sparro :hallenged (he passers by with quick, ang 1 chirp-chirp," if they came too near th< acred homes. Crickets io their shining a nor ran through the stubble, ashamed ie caughtjpracticing those notes which du^i August they were to pour fourth so freel caking engagements to sing during the sa eeding fall mouths. Grasshoppers in pe ;reen small clothes pranced over the windov ike hard.- soldiers storming a bastion. No ,nd then an important feeling frog, badly ii lated with his own conceit, growled out ? nitiatory note of his evening serenade. torin of applause came* from the adjoinin, aarshy knolls, mingled with cries of "two wo ! two I" which cansed a leap of joy, an nother growling note from the speckle irorapfer. Beyond these sounds, coming i odiscribably soft cadence.'!, were the songs < he night-birds, ringing through tba wood nd actually mc-lting in the soft, summer ai; ?hc purple powder of the herds grass reste pou Bernice's fingers, for some of the talle talks quite aspired to reach her shoulders. Everything was lovely in the extreme. Th eart was involuntarily filled with prayer an raise, In an adjoining field, down'amou; be swale grasses, the remorseless scythe wung back and forth, and as the blue-join nd rep-top fell with heavj' sighs, the scythe epcatcd "h-u-s-h! h-u s-hl" as plainly a cythes can say it. Once more up the swale, and then Johi lentlcy hang up the murderous thing tba ad cut down the grass all day, and whistling D keep his courage up, he went aenss tin elds in the direction which Bernice had gone Ie had raado up his mind to f-peak to he 3on, and here was a good opportunity. Com Jg near, he said, "Ab, Bernice," (ho had never called hoi liss Whately, for with the fact of the bal.3 efore him it seemed purely malicious to rc dod her in so pointed a way of the painfu :uth,) " Ab, Bernice, do you liad the berrie; lentitud hereabouts T "Yes." sbe answered,<: as plentiful as ir? in expect at this out-of-season time." " Do you know," he went on, " that we are ery ap; to expect most, and Jong moro for ut of season or out of reach things ?" She looked up surprised at the strange roiuiug BOWgajBBBBS S --- , iiiojMr'ir_ " I mean," he explained, <! that we are al rays coming to the fig-tree when it is not its jason of bearing, and therefore find no r? ponse to our longing hunger." " Earth hardly yields us happiness," she uldly said. M And yet you are happy ia your way, ?erni'ce ?" " lu my way, T am far from bei og as miser ble as some might expect." " No one would expect you to bo happy ho know you." His manner was earnest. You are too good and true to ever be misc ible." " Do you think so ! Do you know me and link so?" " To both questions I frankly answer-yes." " Thank you j" sho calmly but feelingly re lied, extending her hand to him, while a ieper tinge o? red crept along her check, ?id a deeper shade came into the clear eyes. Ile held her hand firmly, expecting her to raw it away when he should say what he icant to say to her. il Bernice, I love you deeply, purely and uly as ever man loved woman on earth." Sac paled to her very lips. Even her nos "ils took on tho deathly tinge. Never had entley or any other person seen her thus loved. Hud abc, without knowing it, cher hill an n&uctiqn for this upright, honest, mtlcmanly youngman? Or had thc sim io sentence brought back a frt&her memory " her first untimely wooing ? Be it as it ay, her hand still lay without a struggle i bis. " Wdl you sometime c'?ris2iit to love ino, ii bo my treasured, tdolfa d wiPj?" he went i, as soon as he saw thu color let urning to sr face. "I karo never thcuirht of love or murringo noe-J' The wo.rds choked her. "Never mind that, Bernice? never refer i it. Let tho part lie dead. It matters not ) me. Why should it trouble you Y EvAy yu] quality, every oscelient thing in woman have beheld in you. 1 reverence and love m. Could man say, do or feel more?" " You are very good ; 1 have long known ," she answered, not unmoved.. " But you ill forgive ine ; I have no answer to give DU. It is too entirely unexpected for me to Qow my own feelings." " But, blind creature, have you not guessed iy secret?" "No-, J assura you not. Your manner as always been respectful, nay, tender; but ascribed it wholly tn pity. I blessed you ir redeeming my lost faith in mau, and-" "And you thought it pity?" ?.I did." " For what should ? pity you ? I grieved ir the sorrow of your young life, but pity ed and admiration was boru by daily wit s-sing the grand self reliance and calm, ustHg faith that beautified your life. There as nj chance for pity ; it was all merged in ifty admiration. You hold my happiness in Dur hands. I am not one to be easily moved, Dr lightly turned in my affections." " I am honored, highly honored, Mr. Bent 3*, iu possessingthe love of such a man as have always believed you to be. I ennnot cprcs9 my gratitude at your preference." " And you will let me hope that sometime )u will bc my wife ? You will promise me-" " I will promise you i" and her clear, large ,-C3 wore frankly raised to meet his inquiring lance, u that if I ever love, if I ever marry, '.r. Bentley is likely to claim both my alfeo on and my band." Do vou promise this much?" and his face t up with joy too deep for utterance. " Do DU promise this much ? I wore an extor oner to demand more. God bless you, my arliug ;" and he bent and kissed her saintly, uro brow; A look of life and hope and joy came over er face, and her hand nestled closer in his. One glance at their faces ns they came a rough the orchard paths together^ and the npulsive Emily buried her face on her bus ami's neck. "What is it ?" he asked. " O Neal, if you had seen their fares lernice's and John's-she will marry him at ist, I know." " Thank Heaven I The honest fellow de rives her. And where on earth would he ind another such a treasure for a wife 7" " Or such a good husband ?" " True, true, wi e ; and, after all, everything yorks out just right." " Can we doubt it, when we know that Cod over-rules all things for good and wise purposes?" . 4 # * * * * * # When iNfarah was ia Iifr third year, her mother ono day was playiug with her uudtc the orchard trees. The chiid, in playful de fiance, mounted upon tho high stone wall be yond her mothers outstretched arms. A maD, coming up the road on hoiscback, saw tho playful race, and drawing his steer? np close to the wall bc snapped his whip at the little thing, thus thinking to drive her down to ber mother's arms c-re t>he fell. Insteadof fright ening her, she held ber arras out to him. Something about the beautiful face arrested his attention, and springing eff bis horse he caught her in his arms and leaped tho wall, and-Malcolm" and Bernice Whately stood face to face ! He uttered such an ejaculation of astonishment and remorse that "Marah slipped down from him, and climbed up into her mothers arms. The recognition was instantaneous on both sides, but Bernice with the step of an em press turned away, haviDg not uttered either word or sound. "Slav,'' he cried, catching her by the hand. "h this real ? Are you B?rnico Whately ?" " That is ray name." " And for God'3 sake tell me if this is my child ?" "It is my child. It has no father." u Yes, yes, it has. Yes, Bernice, filled at last with remorse I have sought you far and near ta giant you all thc reparation in my power.-" " It comes too late," was the calm, cold answer. u I accept nothing from your hands, perfidous man !" h You mrjst accept something at my hands, Bernice. I love you better than I ever loved any one else, or ever can love any one." "You took a singular method of proving your love." was thc bitter answer. b But let me prove it now ;" aiid'hishungry irros stretched out towards the bravo mother ind her child. " Too late. You come too late !" she sim ply said. " Oh, no, not that; say not that." " I repeat--too late." " But for the sake of your child, our child, Bernice. She will need a father, a protector." " Yes, 3he needs a protector j" aud Bernice moved away, while tho beautiful child's face smiled back upon the wretched man, u and I mall give her a better one than you could ?ver be." " My God ! what mean you ?" and he strode jp beside her. h. Simply that ere long I. abai! marry tho Dest man in tho whole world, who, knowing ny entire history, glories 'iu becoming the ?ther of my sweet, little Marah, and the lusbaud of Marsh's mother." A groan of anguish escaped him. " Une moment, Bernies, just one. Is there milling that I-can do ?" * Nothing ; only get you hence back into ;he world whence you thrust rae to fight it done with my babe. If, in future, you long br a true, faithful, wifely heart to lean on, or i fair daughter to study your comfort, con ?ole your solitude by thinking that your own land huricd both these blessings from you." Sb^o wo^one,from Jiis view. A year or so after, a letter inquiring for Diuah'found its way into the colored preach 3r's hands, the contente of which sent the ?egress into a. distant town, inquiring her way to John Bentley's. Mutiny on Shipbot.nl. Much exciten, ont. was created yesterday by a mutiny on board the bark Scotland, Captain Benjamin E. Maynard, loaded with :otton, Ijing in the stream, opposite Brown's wharf, bound to Liverpool. It appears that a new crew of six men had Deer, stiipped 02 board the Scotland, from inc of tho shipping officer on East Bay, and ?vent on board yesterday morning before tho teasel left tho wharf. The men at first re used to obey tho orders of the mate when muling out into the stream. 4 Between ton md eleven o'clock the Captain went on board br some of the ship's papers, and was about ^turning when the crew made a rush for lim, demanding to be taken ashore, and say ng they had not received their advance. The Captain, who was about clearing his vessel, :aid ho had no time to talk 'with them thonj md with his hand beckoned them back. One >f the men immediately gave him a severe dow over the right eye with a knife, cutting lira in two or three places'. His companions" Irew their sheath-knives and rushed both on he Captain and other officers, threatening a cut the hearts out of them. The first mato, ?Ir. Silas Duell, who Was standing ou U19 wop deck, seeing the danger of the Captain, Ircw a revolver and fired, killing one of the :rew named James Kelly, and wounding an> ither of tho sarao name in the left arm. The leueasod was shot in thc left .??de, and ex >ired almost iustantly. The rest of tho crew hen ran forward, when tho Captain set a ?goal of distress- union down. A boat with Ia ptain Ci C, Neill, Custom-house officer, .ucl a crew from the bark 0,'ion, at Kerr's iVharf, immediately pulled out to the vessel, md was' followed by a boat from the U. S, teamer Tacouy, (flag-ship,) anchored some listauco in the it roan, but which made a irorapt reply to the signal for assista?co, L'he crew Were disarmed, their kni?es taken rom them, and a'.i the uljenders put in irons, ufonnation of the affair was sent to Corouer Vhiting, who obtained the assistance of i??cer Cotes and a police force under Lieut, leudricks. with whom he visited the vessel .nd brought the dead body, with officers, and row, to tue city. The names of the crew rho have been committed to jail are aft Ihl ows; Cornelius Mahoney, James Sweeney, fumes Whitely, James Kelley, Charles Mc cabe. A number of witnesses in tho case lave also been retained. An inquest will bo icld, this morning, on the body of the de cased. It is believed that thc affair was iremeditated by the crew-that they intend d to force an advance from the Captain and hen desert tho vessel.-Charleston Courier. .-? ? ? BULLT.rou BEECHER.-The following, from , recent address by Rev. Henry Ward Bcech r, makes extremely distasteful reading for ome of his political associates : " I should bo sorry to see any more Gov xnmcnt agents spreading out through the and. If thc Fresidenf would call home very Treaaury agent that is disgracing tho iqrth and tho Government and humanity, iud alienating the South, I, for one, should ie glad. Here and there are no doubt meu vho stand above bribery and suspicion of irruption-noble men and true-but all brough tho South, lakiDg them com )rehe?uively, thc-y are as locusts eating ip tho land. They are predatory nuisances,, md degrade the North, from .which they ?rae, and the Government under wbwk they ierve." -?-; CHARLOTTE ANU SOOTH CAROLINA RAIL ROAD.-Col. Wm. Johnston, I'reoident of the Jhariottfl and South Carolina, and the Au gusta and Columbia Ruilroads, is now in our ?ity. During his visit to us this morning he inuounced the ^ratifying intelligence that his mountain route Northward will be open for passengers on the 10th proximo. The Colonel speaks of the new iron bridge over tho Ca tawba as the model bridge South-" recon structed from Confederate gun barrels and bayonets." He states that the whole of tho linc of tho Augusta and Columbia Road, is finished or under contract.-Augusta ChronU clo and StntineL >