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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c. ' Vol. XIII. WEDNESDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 21, 1877. THE HERALE 19 PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORlNING, At Newberry, S. C. BY THOM. B. GRRKKR, Editor and Proprietor. Terms, $2.50 per .Innznn Invariably in Advance. J he paper is stopped at the expirationc t me for which it is paid. The >4 mark denotes expiration of sub sciptionl. GOD'S SUNLI1GHT. Look up to meet the sunlight ! Droop not in dark despair, Though shadows be thy earthly lot With sorrows, pain and care. Though earthly love elude tby grasp, And bright dreams fade away Yet! for earth, and for all, God's snnligh beams With pure and steadfast ray. We may not see through blinding tears The brightness far above; We may not feel through storm and cloud The sweetness of his love Yet, God's pure sunlight still is there, And shineth for us all The sad, the weak, the weary soul That heeds its silent call. The cares of life, the sins of earth, May veil it from our eyes, Till, tossed by earthly wind and storm, We seek for parer skies; When, gazing upward through our tears, The darkening veil is riven And burst upon the weary soul The sunlight pure of heaven. For heavenly love surrounds us still, And heaven may still be ours, For life withgrief is ever mixed, to her own room. fancied moment. From beneath its cov- 1 ers peeped the white head of an old farmer. "Good even', miss," said he. "I've been to the post-office, and they said there was letters for Wilton's folks, and I fetched 'em over. A'int got my glasses with I me, so I don't know who they are t writ to ; but you can see. All 1 well ? - That's right. Good-eve- t nin'." And away he drove, leaving 1 Jane with two letters in her hand, t one for herself and one for Annie Conyers. Her own was from her mother. c She knew the writing; the other -well she knew the hand that directed that, also. It was from Mr. Craig.t "And am I to give it to her ?" t muttered Jane, between her teeth -"'I !" * And then, with an impulse f which seemed to her unconquera ble, she hurried away towards a t wood, hiding both letters in her t pocket. At least she would delay her rival's happiness ; she would not c carry it to her at once. Then alone in the green shadow c she took the letter from her pock et, and looked long and curiously at the superscription. Yes, it was from Craig, and what had he said? Perhaps, af- t ter all, he was not in earnest. f 'Could she but read what he had written, she would know. l She took a pin from her dress, and drew it along the edge of the I envelope. It opened a little space, but the rest clung as closely as before. Impatient at this, she forgot all prudence, and drew the . pin across the paper with a sud den push. It cut its way through, and the mischief was done. Jane's heart beat hard and fast with ter- 1 - ror, but she had gone too far to stop. "I shall know the truth," she said ; "and lettere are always be-C ing lost in these country post-of fices ; P1l read it, since I've torn it." Then she pulled away the envelope, spread the sheet of pa-J per on her knee, and read the fol -lowing words: "DEAR MISS ONYERS :-It seems] odd that a man of thirty should be afraid to stand face to face with a girl of twenty, and tell her that he loved her ; but I could not summon courage to do so, nor to ask the question that follows such a confession. So, far from you, I commit my hopes to this paper, and having in plain words said I love you, ask you in plainer words Sstill-do you love me enough to > be my wife ? If you do, write to] > me at once, I pray, and make me the happiest man on earth by tell ing me so. If you do not, then Spain neither of us by a refusal ; b simply leave my letter unan swered. I can bear it better so. IBut I shall pray for the letter, fori I love you better than my life. HARRY CRAIG." Jane drew a deep breath. "So it has gone as far as this," she said. "What fools men are ! She will be glad enough to say 'yes,' but if I should destroy this bit of paper, he would never know it; and then -well, then he would do his best to fill her place. Men's hearts never break, and there is no one ~whom I know suits me better. That old man who gav.e the letters never read the address. There bcan be no inquiries made. It Swould be safe to destroy it, dan gerous not to do so now, even if 1 wanted to read it.". 'Then Jane tore the letter in two, Sthrust it into its envelope, and looked about her. It would be Sdangerous to tear it to bits in the Swood. Its white fragmen ts migh t attract some eye among the green. Sness of the grass. But hard by a Ipretty stream babbled away over Sstones and pebbles., Once thrown into the water, that was the end Sof it. e Jane hurried to the water-side, San&1 looking over her shoulder, as , one niight who expected to see a 2 ghost. tossed the little package e in. Ijt jgll with the closed side t downwara and distended by the a toru note,7 which was roughly thrust into sit. The surface was a hard and h\ghly finished, and a shaped so asito resist the water.1 r A little breeze thbat had just sprung > up favored it, and away it floated] i lien a li,ti bloat. deftly clearing the shore and tacking and turning % it passed the dark, half-bidder breasts of the little rocks ovei which the water played. "Good-bye," said Jane, laugh og, as she watched it. "I havc >et a vessel, freighted with th( iopes of Harry Craig, afloat ir ine style. I am afraid it wil nake shipwreck, but all the bet er for some one else. It's an il vind that blows no one any good.' ind, turning, she tripped towarc ,he house. At this moment, farther along ,his same stream where, in a littlE ove, lay hidden a great tangle o vater-lilies, Annie Conyers sat in 6 rough little boat, rowed by Mrs. Vilton's son Peter, a shock-headed )oy of twelve. Little Fannie Wil on sat beside her, and the twc irls drew up the dank, dark green tems of the great, beautiful white lowers. "If one could only carry them ,o the city," said Annie ; "but ,hey always die. How greedy I =m, I can never get enough. But ve'll leave the buds until they )pen-and there comes one down ,he stream to us. Let's try to :atch it, Peter." Peter, in obedience to the man late, rowed his boat into deeper vater, and Annie leaned over the iide with her hand outstretched ,o catch what she fancied was a bating lily. "Pshaw !" she cried, with a augh, as it came nearer, "it's no ,bing but paper ! But it seems tc e dodging me! I'll catch it, what 'ver it is!" And with these words her white ingers closed on an envelope, not et soaked through, and within vhich lay, torn and crushed, paper still dry. "Why; it has my name on the )ack !" cried Annie. "I never de itroy a letter when I am away rom home." Then her face changed, and the bildren saw her pale and flushed s5 she pieced the torn letter to ~ether and read it through. "Is anything the matter, Mish Lonnie ?" asked Fanny. "What should be ?" said Peter 'What a litt,le goose you are "Nothing is the matter chil ren," said Annie ; "only as the dage says, 'Truth is strange ,an fiction !'" "Eh !" cried Peter. "So odd for a letter of mine tc loat to me on the river," said innie. "Ha, ha, ha! Aint it ?" roared P~eter. And it was stranger than Petei cnew, for it was Craig's love-let :er that Annie had just read. She was a wise little wvoman und kept the matter to herself >t Fannie did not. "Wasn't it funny, ma ?" shi ried. "Miss Annie found one o: er letters floating down th< tream, just like a boat, when wi were getting water-lilies." "0 1" cried Mrs. Wilton, for a ~his moment the teacup Jane hat ifted to her lips dropped fron ~er hand and dashed to pieces or he floor. "CHow careless of me!1" crie< rane. "Hope you haven't spoilt you fress ?" said Mrs. Wilton ; but al rane lifted her crimson face fron ~he fragments of the broken cup she met Annie Conyer's eyes. Women sometimes talk to eaci >tber with their eyes; two dit ~ben. But Annie was generous in he: ~riumpb. She never told Craig ~nd she sent Miss Heth an invi ~ation to her wedding, which fiss Heth, with many regrets elined. A man who was about to b< mnged in Indiana, sang, as h~ tood with the noose about hit 2eck, "Ob, the bright angels ar< waiting for me." Whereapon th' ocal editor fiendishly wrote, "An< then the angels stirred up the firi and locked brighter." A recent lecturer advises al nen to "know themselves." That' ~dvising a good many to form ver: ow and disreputable acquaint isallaenus. FOR THE HERALD. BROADBRIM'S NEW YORK LETTER. NUMBER FoUR, DREADFUL CONDITION OF THE STREETS -FRANKLIN'S STATUE-THE YOUNG EDITOR IN THE TALL TOWER CHATHAM STEEET-THE FIVE POINTS-GRAND DUKE-RO MANCE OF A POOR YOUNG MAN-FASHION NOTES, &c., &c., &c. "It's werry sloppy and rather muggy, and I don't see no chance of its gettin' no better," remarked Jack, my porter, as he fussed around my table this morning, vainly endeavoring to get the dust off a pile of newspapers, with the 'stump end of what was once a feather broom. "I've watched this 'ere kind o' weather pootty close for several year," he remark ed, "and I hev ginerally obsarved that when it don't get no better it ither stays where it is, or gits was." I looked out of my office window-Jack was right. Ugh, it makes me sick to look at the streets, continents of slush, sur rounded by oceans of mud-rivers of dirt dotted with islands of filth as far as the eye can reach. Here is a horse down, blocking Broad way with swearing coachmen and stage-drivers-dirty gamins and bawling policemen-and, mercy on me, there goes that fat woman with the basket down on her new dress that must have cost ten cents a yard, if it cost a nickel; and no.w look at that big patch on the-well it's not a nice place to have a patch of dirt. I pulled on my two-story Arctics, buttoned up my coat, took a look at an acci dental insurance policy that I had in my side pocket, and sallied out. I ran tho muck-a-muck of Broad way successfully, mierely losing one rubber and getting my left ear and my overcoat pocket full of mud. I crossed the Park and tak ing off niy hat reverently to the statue of.Franklin, which sancti fies Printing House Square, ob served for the first time that he had turned his back on The Tri bune office, and the young editor, whose eagle eyrie is away up in the tall tower near the sky. I pass by old Tammany Hall, now occupied by Dana and The Sun. Ah, me, the light of other days is faded since Captain Rynders led the Empire Club, eleven hundred strong, down through the Sixth ward, and Mike Walsh, with the Spartan band at his back, was good for two thousand majority from the Bowery to the river. I love Cbatham street ; thbere is such a sweet and pleasant perfume of old clothes, ancient boots, and dilapi Fdated hats about it, that it is real ly quite refreshing. I love Chat ham street as I remarked before, because there are no new smells Lthere ; it's the same old smell that SI recognized more than a quarter of a century ago, and they say the people don't mind it who are used to it, on the contrary they rather like it, in fact it is said they can not live without it ; this may be so, but I confess I do not alto gether hanker arter it myself. I recollect a somewhat similar aro ma or bouquet during my travels in Canada. I stopped at a log house one evening for supper and lodging, and thirteen wood-chop pers had pulled off their boots and lay sleeping with their feet to the stove-the memory haunts me still, even the sight of an old boot, or a woolen sock is enough to dis turb my peace of mind for a week; but Chatham street is mild along side of that, and as I contemplate the gentle faces of the inhabitants, I am constantly reminded of my Swanderings in Palestine, and my trip to the Holy Sepulcher. I Swould almost be willing to take Imy oath that that fellow with the b ook nose and the wall eye is the same chap who, nearly thirty years ago, seized me by the waistband of my breeches-dragged me into that identical shop and compelled Sme to buy, for two dollars and a -quarter, a coat big enough for my Im grarat-grandfather. But here we are at Baxter street. Yes, . heaven be thanked it is still the a same. Mike Dooley's new tene- t ment house in the middle of the ' block seems a little out of place, t but the Five Points still remain ; intact. Yes, sir, every one of i them! It seems to be the curse r of all large cities to have a living r ulcer in the center of their hearts. I London has its St. Giles and Saf- i fron Hill; Paris has its Faubourg I St. Antoine; Vienna, Berlin, St. t Petersburg, all have these living r cancers-within i-ifle shot of migh- a ty buildings where Bibles are print- S ed for the heathen-and near I churches from which thousands of e missionaries go out to the four d quarters of the globe and the scat- i1 tered islands of the sea. I look t up toward the Five Points' Mis- y sion and I read on a tablet: "Erect- t ed on the site of the old brewery, s A. D.1853." For four and twenty a years these saints have been wrest- t ling with the devil, and it's aston- a i4hing to see how healthy the old e man looks; they don't appear to a have worried him a bit. Hero are d his camp followers all around us t by huudreds; the very air is redo- c lent of crime and sin ; it rises like l a miasma from the filthy gutters a in the streets. it oozes out of the s damp walls; it floats up from the r dark cellars, and down from the a ricketty garrets-it is all around r us-virtue finds it hard to main- i tain a foothold here, for the soil is I barren, sterile and foul. Look in a those faces, soiled and scarred with F crime and sin, and you almost f doubt, notwithstanding the pro- t mises of the Savior, if they were t ever intended to be redeemed. t There goes .a party of young r thieves into Teddy Mannix's junk- f shop; see how suspiciously they t look around to see if the police are s in sight, and now they are down f with Teddy in the cellar, driving r a hard bargain for their plunder. r That girl with the red head is i scarcely twelve years old, yet she v is as deeply versed in crime as a g vicious woman of thirty. Look i at that group around the lamp- t post, they are picking each others v pockets just for practice ; here are k your incipient Jack Sheppards, C Dick Turpins and Claude Duvals. fi E very one of these mugs is already a in the rogues' gallery-all of them v have served terms in the county v jail or penitentiary, and they are a looking forward to the day, with t pardonable pride, when some first- r class burglary, or highway robbe- c ry, will enable them to graduate t with the honors of Auburn or Sing p Sing. On the corner of Baxter v and Worth streets, is the celebra- c ted Grand Duke theater, the boot- r blacks, news-boys, and rag-pickers' e temple of the drama. Pick your a steps, and mind how you go, for s it's away under the ground-no- a where in New York-perhaps no L where in the world will you see a exactly such an assembly. That a big fellow in the gray ulster, lean- t ing against the post with his hat c slouched down over his eyes, is ag prominent Wall street broker; I that little man in the old brown I coat, who looks so suspiciously- r about and keeps his hands so tight- I ly on his pockets, is a country I clergyman-he has disguised him- t self for the purpose of seeing the a GratiT Duke, but the gamins know r him at a glance and they'll go f through him before he gets out. a Merchants, doctors, lawyers, boot- I blacks, scavengers and thieves are a all mixed up together. There is p a fetid, sickly smell of the sewers, a mingled with stale pipes and bad a gin ; but the audience of the Grand s Duke care nothing for these, they a are used to it ; its aroma is sweet- t er to them than the pure breath a of the mountains or the fields. c We won't stay for the perform- v ance ; let us get up into the air- fi the sky is clear and the stars are a shining. Do you see that woman c standing over there ; well, right v on that spot is where Mike Hen- s nessey murdered the policeman c over twenty years ago. He got a away to California, and was one s of the gang hung atSonora for the t murders at Rancherie. That lit- E tle house toppling into the street k is w here the Donovan family were c killed; and down in this cellar on v the right is where Portugese 'Joe s had1 the fight with the three i: Prench sailors, and he cut them ,11 to pieces with a Spanish mache o, and hid them under the floor. .here are lights shining out from he upper windon s of the mission; perhaps some one up there is pray ng to the Throne of Grace for aercy and forgiveness to the sin ers with which this place abounds. hope so; God knows they need t more than the savages of the eathen. Where religion fails, rade and commerce are becoming aighty missionaries--their inroads re gradual but sure-and in a few ears nothing will remain of the ive Points and the Grand Duke xcept the accounts that you can elve from the letters of some inerant correspondent. Tell them o beware of pious young men up our way. We have just sent bree to State's Prison, and have a mall invoice left. I regret to say, nd acknowledge it with humilia ion, that one was a printer and nother a newspaper correspond nt ; this latter fact may have had omething to do with the moral eclination of the last-named wor by-but ih the printer's case the ause is unfathomable, for we all now that type-sticking is rather moral business-advertisers and abscribers generally forgetting to ay their bills, thereby consider tely removing all temptation to eckless and extravagant expend ure. The printer had an undue king for other people's overcoats, nd the rascally newspaper corres ondent amused himself with ex erimenting with the currency of he United States. In view of hese unfortunate facts, which I eg you won't mention, where eople have asked my profession ar the last two weeks I have told hem that I was an explorer. I tood in need of some slight re reshment, and had just been ex loring my overcoat pocket for a ickel that went down in the lin ag last summer when I was on a isit to the Centennial, but I re ret to say, like the North Pole, was not to be found. I am aware hat the ladies expeet me every reek to give them some gentle ints as to the prevailing fashions f the great metropolis, not to be aund in Harper's 5Bazar or .Mad me Demorest's Weekly. I1 do this rith greater pleasure, because rriting fashion articles is my trong suit. I understand the erms and idioms of fashionable omenclature, and this fact, will onsequently give a grace and ease o my fashion articles which the roductions of mere provincial rriters would naturally lack. One f the most important as well as iost disgraceful innovations on stablished custom is the entire bolition of the magnificent two tory bustle w hich delighted and mazed us of yore. Would you elieve it, women may now be een on Broadway at noon-day in Imost their natural shape, a gen ie ump, about as big as a piece f chalk, being all that distin uishes .the. difference bet veen a ~ifth Avenue belle and her more umble sister of the Bowery. I egret to say that trailing skirts ave almost entirely disappeared. regret this more particularly in he present condition of the treets. Last year, when the 2nd was ancle deep, I could have >lowed in the wake of a fashion ble lady from the Battery to ladison Square, and never have oiled my boots ; but with the resent vile, attenuated skirts, las, I can do so no longer. The kirts are worn with a .Diana weep and an inverted coal-scuttle eompaniment ; point applique rim mings on the back of the ears nd reaching to the eyebrows 'are onsidered graceful. Russes are rorn on the elbows, feathers arid owers on the back of the head, nd the left hand pocket; Canton rape, trimmed down the middle rith six-penny calico is also con idered very becoming, with bows f Cardinal-red, Punkin-yellow, nd Sham >ck-green down the ides. This style of trimming is ighly-esteemed in the Fourth, ixth and Twelfth wards. I am appy to state that the better lass of fashionable young ladies rho make beds, wash dishes, and ew bags utterly reject the vile alia-rnhher shoe which destrov8 the beauty of the foot; they very properly considering that the pos sibilities of galloping consumption are not to be weighed against the depravity of having a big hoof. I broke right off here, and have been waiting for the last fifteen minutes to hear of some startling murder, robbery or suicide to wind up with, but nothing comes except what you already have in your exchanges, and so I must close, as the mail is going. Truly yours, BBOADBRIM. PROF. TYNDALL'S WARN. ING. In concluding an address to the students of University College (London) Prof. Tyndall, who is unquestionably one of the most indefatigable brain workers of our century, said, "take care of your health. Imagine Hercules as oars man in a rotten boat ; what can he do there but by the very force of his stroke expedite the ruin of his craft. Take care of the tim bers of your boat." The distin guished scientist's advice is equal ly valuable to all workers. We are apt to devote all our energies to wielding the oars, our strokes fall firm and fast, but few of us exam ine or even think of the condition of our boats until the broken or rotten timbers suddenly give way and we find ourselves the victims of a calamity which could have been easily avoided by a little forethought. What began with a slight fracture, or perhaps even a careless exposure to disorganizing influences, ends in the complete wreck of the life-boat. The dis ease which began with a slight headache or an undue exposure to cold terminates in death, unless its progress be checked, and the dis ease remedied. The first symp toms, the heralds of disease, give no indication of the strength of the on-coming foe, and the victim trusts that his old ally, Nature, will exterminate the invader. But Disease is an old general and ac complishes his most important movements in the night-time, and some bright morning finds him in possession of one of the strongest fortifications; and when he has once gained astronghold in the sys tem Nature ignominiously turns traitor and secretly delivers up the whole physical armory to the invader. Like the wily politician, 1Nature is always on the strongest side, and the only way to insure her support is to keep your vital powers in the ascendant. Ktep your strongest forts-the stomach and liver-well guarded. Do not let the foe enter the arterial high ways, for he will steal or destroy your richest merchandise and im poverish your kingdom. To re pulse the attacks of the foe you can find no better ammunition than Dr. Pierce's Family Medi cines. (Full directions accompany each package.) His Pleasant Pur gative Pcllets are especially effect ive in defending the stomach and liver. His Golden Mcd ical Dis covery for purifying the blood and arresting coughs and colds. II you wish to become familiar with the most approved system of de fense in this warfare, and the his tory of the foe's method of inva sion, together with complete in structions for keeping your forces in martial order in time of peace you can find no better manual ol these tactics than "The People's Common Sense Medical Adviser,' by R- V. Pierce,NM. D.-, of the World's Dispensary, Buffalo, N.Y. Sent to any address on receipt ol $1.50. It contains over nine hun dred pages, illustrated by two hundred and eighty-two engrav ings and colored plates, and ele gantly bound in cloth and gilt. A man being asked, as he lay sunning himself on the grass, what was the heighth of his am bition, replied, "To marry a rich widow with a bad cough." A Chinaman spoke all the En glish he knew in Indianapolis the other day, and was fined $7 for profanity. A domestic broil usually makes a thnronghly nsatisfactory meal. ADVERTISINC RATES. Advertisements inserted at the rate of $1.00) per square--one inch-for first insertion, and 75c. for each subsequent insertion. Dou* column advertisements tenper cent on above Notices of meetings, obitnaries and tnibutc Y of respect, same rates per square as ordinay advertisements. Special notices In local column 15 cents per line, Advertisemnents no~t marked with the num ber of insert:nns will fie kept in till forbid and charged accordingly. Special contracts maide with large adver tisers, with liberal dedaet in~ns on above rates b a P~RrwiJe Done with Neatness and Dispatehb Termj Cah. A JUVENILE FIGHT.-A-lad, nar rating a fight which he had. been engaged in, said : "N-4ea you how it was. You see,~ and me went down to the wharf to fish ; and I felt into may ppcket and found my knife, ad.. it was gone-and I said, "Bl;Yba stole my knife," and he s I" iwas an other; and I said, "Go there your self;" and he said it was no such thing; anc' Isaid youi are a liar, and could whip him if I was big ger'n him; and he said he'd rock me to sleep, mother ; ,and I said he was a bigger one; afid he said I never had the measles ; and I said for him to fork over that knife, or I'd fix him for a tomb stone at Cypress Hills ; and he said my grandmother was no gen tleman ; and I said he dersn't take it up; but he did you bet; you never-well, you never did; then I got up again ; and he tried to, but he didn't; and I grabbed him and throwed -him down on *the top of me like several bricks, and