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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c. Vol. XV. WEDNESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 8, 1879. No. 41. *THE HERALD IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAYNMOENING, It Newberry, S. C. BY THOS, F* ORKNEKHIY Editor and Proprietor. Terats~, se.00 per &1#111ID1 Invariably in Advance. ti' t ne paper is stopped at thie expiration of time for whicha it is paid. :Ir The >4 mark dpaotes expiration of sub cription. .IF'Iscellnei n MERCHANT TAILORING, COLUMBIA, S. C. The undersigned has the besL appointed exclusive TAILORING ESTIBLISUMENT IN THE STATE. FRENCH AND ENGLISH CLOTHS AND CASSIMIRES, - MILITARY TRIMMING~S, TAILORS' THL11INGS, None but First Class Work men Employed. Wo C, SWAFFIELD, ACENT. Apr. 16, 16--6m. e/iscellraneous. TUTT'S PILLS are extracted from Vegetable products, combining in them the Mandrake or May Apple, whiah is recognized by phyi2iEns as a substitute for calomel, Possessing all the virtues of that mineral, without its 'bad after-effetu. AS AN ANTI-BILIOUS MEDICINE they are incompsrable. They stimulate the TVRFI LIVER, Invigorate the NERVOUS SYSTEM, and give tone to theDIGESTIVf ORGANS,mreatingper feat digestion and thorough assimilatin of food. They exert a powerful influence on the KINEYS and LIVER, and through these organs remove all impuri ties, thus vitW.11ing the tinsuesof the body and causing a healthy condition of the system. AS AN ANTI-MALARIAL REMEDY They have no equal; and as aresult act as a preventive and cure for Bilious,Re mittent, Intermtenent, Typhoid Fevers, andFeverandAgue. Uponthehealthy action of the Stomach, depends, almost wholl, the health of the human race, DYSPEPSIA IS THE BANE of thepresteneraton. It is for the Cure of this disease and its attendants, SIC-A11ACHE, NERVOUSNESS, DES PONDEN0Y, CONSTIPATION, PILES, &c., .-i9that TUTT'S PILLS have gained such a wide spreadreputa tion. No Remedy baseverbeendisoov ered that acts so speedily and gently on the digestive organs giving them tone and vigor toassimilatefood. This being accomplished, of course the NERVOUS SYSTEM 13 BRACED, THE BRAIN IS NOURISHED, AND THE BODY ROBUST. Being bomposed ofthe juices of plants extracted by powerful chemical agen. cies, and prepared in a concentrated form, they are guaranteed free from any thing that can injure the mst del icate person. A noted chemist who has analyzed them, says "T=RE Is XORE VIRTUE IN ONE OF TUTT'S PILLS, THAN CAN BE POUND IN A PINT OF ANY OTHER." We therefore say to the afficted Try this Remedy fairly, it will not harm you, you have nothing to iose,but wilt surely gain a Vigoe rous Body, Pure Blood, Strong Nerves and a Cheerful Mind. Principal Office, 35 Murry St., N. Y. PRICE 25 CENTS. Sold by Druggists throughout the world. TUTT'S HAIR DYE. Office 3I Mrra St., New York. OLD AND RELIABLE, DR. SAFORD'S IIVBB INVIGORATOB is a Standard Family Remedy for iseases of the Liver, Stomach and Bowels. -It is Purely Debilitates-It isVgtbe-Invr onic. TRY e. ' 00 0 \ ico o' S 8 00 IA' \The 6 8 rLiver 0 Inigorator L as becu m:ed and by te t>ublic, i or more inan m :l5 r, A pr. 16, 16-ly. NEW YOR SHOPPING, amar Purchasiog Agenicy, Established. Reliable. Everything bought with taste and dis retion. N. Y. Correspondent of HERALD mnected with this Agency. Send for ci dulrewith prices Best city references. 877I Broadway, New York. A pr. 9, 15-tf. ISTON DINNER HOUS8E. Passenzers on both the up and down rains have the usual time for DINNER ate ston, the junction of the G. & C. R. R., d the S. U. & C. R. R. Fare well prepared, and the charge rea onabe. ~MRS. M. A. ELKINS. Ot. 9, 41-tf. gottrp. REAL AND MIMIC. Dora seated at the play Weeps to see the hero perish Hero of a Dresden day, Fit for china nymphs to cherish; Oh, that Dora's heart would be Half so soft and warm for me! When the fiaring lights are out His heroic deeds are over, Gone his splendid strut and shout, Gone his raptures of a lover, While my humdrum heart you'd find True, though out of sight and mind. PERFECTLY HEIRTLESS, -0 BY ALICE DALE. -0 Pretty ? Yes, rather pretty, but perfectly heartless,' said Mrs. Holmes to Doctor Stanley, a young and talented physician, with whom she was conversing at a large and brilliant entertainment. 'Heartless! with that sensitive mouth, and those eyes, so deep and full of expression ?' said the physician, musingly. 'I don't admire her style of beauty at all. She looks like a wax doll, and her heartlessness is proverbial. Since her uncle left her so wealthy she has had suit ors by the score, and flirts with every one. Why, look at her now!' Doctor Stanley's eyes followed the direction in which the lady waved bei fan, and rested on the central figure of a group around the piano. It was a lady, young and fair, with a tall, exceeding graceful figure, pure Greek fea tures, and large blue eyes. Her hair was short, but the soft, full curls made a lovely frame for the fair face. Her dress was of dark lace; %nd twisted amongst the olden curls were deep crimson lowers, with dark green leaves, and the snowy throat and arms littered blood-red rubies. She was conversing gaily with a knot f gentlemen, and Doctor Stanley auntered over to the group. 'Miss Marston,' said one gentle an, 'what has become of Harold raham, the artist ?' The tiny hands swept over the vory keys of the grand piano in the measure of a brilliant waltz ; nd another of the group, sup osing Miss Marston did not hear the question, said : 'Out at el ows, and can't appear.' 'He was wretchedly poor, there s no doubt,' said a third. 'Perhaps he has committed sui ide. It is three weeks since he isappeared,' said another. 'Oh, I hopenot !' said Miss Mars on ; 'we want his tenor for our ext musical soiree. It would be oo provoking for him to commit uicide!l' 'Mrs. Holmes was right,' thbought he doctor ; 'she is perfectly heart ess. Poor Harold!l' He turned from the piano, but topped, as a full, rich voice broke ut into song. Eva Marston was inging Schubert's 'Last Greet ng;' and into the mournful words he poured such wailing energy ad deep pathos, that group after roup in the large rooms ceased heir gay conversation to listen to te music. 'Can she sing so without heart r feeling ?' muttered the doctor, gain drawing nearer to the pi-t no. 'Eva,' said the young lady, as the last notes of the song died way, 'Eva, play a polka, won't o?'( A contemptuous smile quivered ~ For a moment on Eva Marston's ip; then nodding good-naturedly, t he dashe)d off into a lively polka, which soon melted the group round the piano into merry, ~ ight-footed dancers ; and Doctor tanley went with the rest. The next morning Miss Mars t ton sat in her own room, writing letter. Let us peep over her houlder at one sentence. 'All hollow, all heartless, Mi- ~ ~iaml You blame me for flirting; C you are not here to see how they Follow me merely for my money; Eot one true heart among them all.C here was n-Hrld.---' A knock at the door interrupted her. -Come in ' and a needle woman entered with a basket of work. 'Good-morning,' said Eva, pleas antly. 'How is Terence this morning ?' 'Oh, miss, it's beautiful he is to day. Sure, marm, I'm sorry ye've had to wait so long for the needle work.' 'Never mind that. How could you work with the poor fellow so ill ?' 'Sure, miss, it's many a one ex pects their work, sick or well ; and isn't Jerry sitting up the day playing with the toys ye sint him, and Pat, that I kept home from school, a minding him !' '1ow much, Mary ?' said Eva, taking out her purse. 'Oh, miss, you don't owe Mary Dennis a farden. There's the doether ye left the money to pay, and the wood ye sint, and the I praties and milk, and the money 1 ye gave me last week; sure, miss, I it's in your debt I am for the rest < of my life.' 'What I gave Terence has noth- i ing to do with my bill,' said Eva, rapidly counting out some money. 'Miss Eva-' said the poor Irish needle-woman, and then i stopped. 'Well, Mary?' 'Sure, miss, you do so much 1 good with your money, I'm ashamed to tell you-' 4 'Tell me what?' 'Well, miss, it's about the young gentleman that's rinted my room. I You mind where the widder died I last autumn. He came a week i back, miss, and he niver come 1 down stairs for three days; so this morning I wint up, and he's f sick with a fever, out of his head I entirely, miss. If you would come now.' 'Wait, Mary ; I'll go with you.' 'Ho's dreadful poor, I think, miss for it's precious little furni- f ure-nothing but a bed, and a table, and a chair, and no trunk it all, at all, but a bit of a carpet-] ag.' Throwing off her rich silk wrap er, Eva put on a dark gray dress nd cloak, and added a close ilk bonnet with a thick veil. 'Come, Mary.' And the two left the house to et.her.t In a low, close room, ot: a pal- g et-bed, lay Mary Dennis' lodger. f rhe face against th.e coarse ticking ilow was such as one fancies for bat of his favorite poet. The i iair was dark, waving over a 1 road, white forehead ; and the I eep-set eyes were hazel, large, nd full ; and the features delicate. f Usually the face was pale, but e ~ow it was crimson with fever; s he eyes, too, fierce and wild. But, ~ven with all this, that face was c eautiful with an almost unearth- t y beauty.t Into that poor, low room, Eva, e with her somber dress and radiant eauty, came like a pitying angel. be gave one glance at the in- e alid's face, and then crossed the s om to his side. t 'Eva !' said the sick man. 'Eva !' v 'He knows me,' she murmured, v rawing back. s But the young man moaned her t ame again, and then broke forth 0 n wild, delirious raVings. t 'Mary,' said Eva, 'send Patrick c o me. I will find pencil and r aper.' ii Mary left the room, and Eva 1 urned to the table to find paper ti nd pencil. She wrote two hasty c otes. One was to her house- h eeper, for pillows and sheets ; h e other was toDri. Stanley, who ci lid not conjecture who was the a iend that sent him so much prac. h ice among poor patients, and saw o bat the young physician was well y ,aid. Having dispatched Patrick with be notes, Eva tried to make the E esolate room home-like. Lifting 0 om the table a waistcoat some. a bing dropped from the pocket to c e floor. She picked it up. It was a small b iiniature case, open ; and painted u n the ivory was Eva Marston's ~eautiful face. S A smile, gentle and pitying, ame on her lip. 'Ho did lnoe me, than--really .I love me-and would not seek me with the herd of fortune-hunters who follow me, and that is the reason I have missed him for so long.' 'Arrah, miss, here's the doether.' 'Stop him, Mary. I will go in here. Remember, Mary, you don't know my name !' and Eva went into another little room vacant, and adjoining that of the in valid's. The door stood ajar, and Dr. Stanley's first exclamation Rfter entering reached her. 'Harold I have I found you at last, and in such a place ?' Eva's eyes ranged over the ,apabilities of the room in which 3he stood, and she nodded, say ng: 'It will do-larger and better Lhan the other, but a poor place it best.' The next day, when Doctor! tanley called to see his patient, Gary, with a pardonable prid.e, ishered him into the room that iad been vacant before. A soft arpet was on the floor, and a fire n the grate. Soft muslin cur ains, snowy white, draped the window. The bed could scarcely )e recognized, with its pure, white pillows, counterpane, and ;hcets. A little table stood beside he bed, with the medicines the loctor had ordered, and a decan er of cooling drink. 'The lady ye mind I told you >f, that sent ye to Terry,' said gary. 'We arranged the room esterday, and my good man and moved him to-day, so she'll find iim here when she comes. It's ound asleep he's been for better han three hours, sir.' Two hours later Harold was itill asleep, but then he opened iis eyes. The cold, cheerless room was .changed, as if by enchant nent; and (Harold thought he vas dreaming) an angel face bent wer him, with pitying eyes and a mile tender as a mother's over 1er child. 'Eva P' he whispered. 'Oh. that could die in such a dream, and lever awake to the bitter, hope. ess love! Let me die now P' Was it a dreaim, that sweet, low roice answering him ? 'Harold, you will not die-you vill live-live for me! Your ge ~ius shall be recognized, your pic. res sought. No more strug ~ling for life, but only for ame.' And the tears fell as she spoke. Doctor Stanley, standing in the oorway, recognized the ball-room elle, and the object of his friend's ong, silent, hopeless love. Softly be glided down the stairs, or he knew that a better modi ie than he could prescribe was 'ithin the patient's grasp. And the world said : 'Just think f Eva Marston, rich, and such a elle, marrying Harold Graham, he artist, who was as poor as a burch mouse ?' The following was a New Haven olony law in 1669: 'Whosoever all inveigle or draw the affec ions of any maide or maide-ser ant, either to himself or others, ithout first gaining the con snt of her parents, shall pay the plantation for the first ifence, 40s., the second, ?4, for de third shall be imprisoned or rporeously punished.' An old cord has just been found show ig that under this law Jacobeth urtine and Sarah Tuttle got into 'ouble by 'setting down on a lestle together, his arme around er waiste, and her arme upon is shoulder or about his neck, and ntinuing in that sinful posture bout half an hour, in which time e kyssed her and she kyssed him, ' they kyssed one another, as e witnesses testified.' The good man loves all men. [e loves to speak of the good of hers. All within the four seas e his brothers. Love of man is iiet of all the virtues. The mean tan sows, that himself may reap; at the love of the perfect man is niversal. Most people judge men only by iccess or fortune. In times of sorrow our solace is esn himself' isteUlaneons. A WOMAN'S ESCAPE FROM WOLVES. In the year 1849 died in the town of Greene, Me., an old man named Thomas, who had a thrill ing wolf story of his own to tell, though the experience was too early for his memory, he being at the time a baby in arms. Mr. George J. Varney relates the ad. venture in the Lewiston Journal. Mrs. Thomas was a fisherman's wife who lived in the town of Brunswick, Me., where Bovidoin College now stands. At one time when her husband was in port, but could not come home, she started on foot to Harpswell, a distance of ten miles, to see him, carrying heryoungestchild in her arms. Returning with a load of fish on her back as well as the burden of her babe, she heard a wolf howl in the forest, and terror quickened her pace, though she was already fain to sink with fatigue. She was midway of the five miles of unbroken woods when the howl of the wolf again smote her ear, and this time other voices, one after another, joined in. The pack bad gathered on her trail I She must climb a tree, one would say; but she did not. She did not even throw away her fish. The wolves gained upon her mo ment by moment, the great gray wolves of the North that stand as high as a man when they rear. It was a mile and a half to the nearest house when sLo first caught a glimpse of the approachiug de mons. She had for the last two miles walked at her utmost speed; it *as now time to run. Yet she still held firmly her babe and her fish. A quarter of a mile more, an-d swiftly as she had passed it, the wolves were within a few yards. She could see their white teeth and hear their laboring breath above her own. She loosened and threw down a single fish, and ran on. The pack discovered rare game, and fought together for its possession. By the time it was eaten the courageous woman had got a quar ter of' a mile in advance; but the pack were soon at her heels again. Another fish checked them, and their snarls and yells, as they again fought each other for a bite of the savory fresh codfish, hur ried the laborious flight of the weary woman. - - Her babe, annoyed by the shak ing it received from the rapid pace, at length cried lustily, call ing the wolves to renewed pur suit. In vain the poor mother tried to soothe her infant, but another fish was followed by a fresh fight and precious delay of the pack. Again and again this action was repeated, until at length the bark ing of two huge dogs alarmed the wolves, while the almost ex-1 hausted mother ran past the friendly brutes to the door of the farmhouse, thrown open to re eive her. The great dogs were trained to their duty, and no sooner was the Eugitive in the house than they lso retired in good order to the same safe stronghold, leaving the oiled wolves to rage outside, and to fall before the guns that werer peedily brought to bear upon t hem. The weary mother found safety ~nd rest, but whether she saved ~ny of her fish tradition does not 'elate. There are many fruits that lever turn sweet until the frost h as touched them. There are nany nuts that never fall from be bough of the tree till the frost as opened and ripened them. ALnd there are many elements of ife that never grow sweet and >eautiful till sorrow touches them. We give advice, but cannot give 1 ,he wisdom to profit by it.d it is a great folly to wish only n. be wiBe. A WONDERFUL OLD DOC TOR. Dr. A. Curtis enters his eighty third year to-day, and claims to be the most supple and elastic man of his age in the world. As he professionally expresses it: He turns his heel against his hip and books his chin.over the head of the tibia, with the thyroid cartilage over the patella. He stands on one foot and places the heel of the other flat on his chin and the ball on his forehead. He brings the posterior spines (crests) of his scapulm within two inches of each other, or extends them eight inches asunder. He raises either and depresses the other so as to make a difference of six inches in their height, and give him a very crooked spine. He ex pels the air from any part of his lungs, or fills that part without sensibly disturbing the .remainder. Hle has perfect command of the functions of all the viscera of his thorax and abdomen. He can in crease or diminish both the volume and the pulsations of his arteries, and can promote the proper ac tion of his stomach, liver, kidneys and bowels without medicines ; can relieve his headache or his fevers, or warm his feet-all these by a, simple effort of his will. If any one doubts the perfor mance of this programme, the doc tor is ready to demonstrate. He thinks he could walk a mile in ten minutes, but he wouldn't vio late* the laws of health so far as as to walk five miles an hour for 100 consecutive hours. This isn't all, he always shaves himself without a mirror and with his eyes shut;Nhe sides of his face with his different hands ; the right with his right and the left with his left, and no barber can excel the execution in good quality for shorter time. As to the preservation of his health the doctor gives the follow ing discouraging account : "I eat no food that is known to be injurious to my constitution no pork, very little beef or lamb, and but rarely. fish or fowls. I drink no alcoholic liquors-never in my life a glass of champagne wine, nor one of lager beer. I use no tobacco in any form or con dition, nor even tea nor coffee, except as medicine when I need their action ; or whben absent from my home I take a cup to avoid troubling my friends." The old doctor persists in saying that he does not take poison for medicine, and sums up his early bistory as follows : "AL eight years of age I was nade a poor boy by the misfor tune of my father. For the next twenty-seven years I never had a sent of aid for my food, clothing >r education that I did not earn with my own head and hands. For ~en years of it I suffered much 'rom dyspepsia and a bereditary ~endency of consumption, both of which I cured- forty-seven yearsj Lgo." In response to the suggestion ,hat he should retire from busi-1 less, the doctor says : "1 shall do so when I cannot, as do now, lecture to students an iour every day ; I shall ride when cannot walk four or five miles a< lay, for practice and other busi- 1 less, and may use a cane when I 1 ~an find no profitable use for my r iand. For the present I must be j >ermitted to 'go about my busi- I iess' with no other incumbrances s han the instruments with which I c t Dou't you know that just in ~ iroportion as we subdue our pride a nd lust, our love of things wordly ~ ,nd carnal, that just as fast as we t vercome ourselves, we enter into 6 inghood ? Sow an act and you reap a , abit; sow a habit and you reap a baracter ; sow a character and on reap a destiby. 5 We are apt to fear for the fear- d ass, when we are companions in anger. To extol one's own virtue is to ake a~ vice of it. 1< ADVERTISING RATESs Advertisements inserted at the rate of -,d 75 cents for each subsequent insertion. Double column advertisements ten per cent. on above. Notices of meetings, obituarieq and trihutes of respect, same rates per square as ordinary advertisements. Spepial Notices in Local column 15 cents per line. Advertisements not marked with the num ber of insertions wrill be kept in till forbid, aind charged accordingly. Special contracts made with large adver. tisers, with liberal deductions on above rates -0.* JOB PRIAATI*W DO'XE WITH NEATNESS A"ND DISPATCH TERMS CASH. A DAUGHTER'S SURGERY. A middle-aged lady, who resides near Wellers, Pa., was afflicted by that terrible disease, scrofula, the seat of the disorder being in her head. Sbe suffered terrible agony from the pressure ofth, diseased cranium upon the brain, and her physician decided that the only means of relief was the removal of the top of her skull. He neW at tempted the operation, however, fearing she might die from its effects. The woman continued to suffer, and her son, who was afflicted with tbe same. disease, determined to take the risk and perform the operation. He was considerable of a mechanical gen ius, and be soon constructed a fine saw for the purpose, the material used being wire-from an old hoop skirt. After he had finished the instrument, although he bad nio surgical knowledge, he began the operation of sawing.through the skull at a point about two inches below the summit of the craniam. After working some time at the operation the young man was taken o fall into his views of eating verything raw. - L~j. .~A ~ ~.wui~.n 9h