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J I A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c. Vol. XIX. NEWBERRY, S. C., THURSDAY, JUNE 7, 1883. No. 23. TI! HERALD IS PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING, At Newberry, S. C. BY THOS. F. GRENRKRR, Editor and Proprietor. Terms, $2.00 per .lnnum, Invariably in Advance. T The paper is stopped at the expiration of time for which it is paid. g The HM mark denotes expiration of subscription. Jliscell Talbott 1W~ - PORTABLE ANI Engines ax SAW AND CC Cottonl G1 s Have been Awarded FIRST PRE) EVERY FAIR WH WE CHALLENGE We Deal Direct with the Purchas WRITE FOR ( Address, TALTBO CHARLOTTE, N. C. M.ay 8, 10-3mos. A TRIAL OF THE BA WILL CLEARLY SUBSTANTIATE SIXIE 1st-It is the easiest running press maa made. 3rd-It is the most durable press as any press made. 5th-It will take les made. 6th-(Last but not least) It costs (AtZ PESE,TP AL IZE PRESE , P i.ASSIDOMANER ERSU CHEVIOT FLAN] Genuts' Fturnxi This tock is complete in all its aietic My Stock of Ge has been selected with great care and Low Quarters apd Gaitel All orders- addresse~d to my~ care W COLUMBIA, S. C, May 2, 18-tf. All subscribers to the HERA~LD are ivnitedI to ask for and receive a copy ofI Kendall's Treatise on the Hlorse. A very valuable book which we intend to aneous. & Sons, 4, STATIONARY id Boilers, RN MILLS, aind Presses. hIUM, Over all Competitors, at ERE EXHIBITED ! COMPETITION! ;er, and Guarantee Satisfaction. :ATALOGUE. TT & SONS, COLUMBIA, S. C. LTIMORE JOBBER SPECIAL POINTS OF EXCELLENCE, [e. 2d-It is as strong as any press made. 4th-It will do as good work to keep it in repair than any press less than.any first-class press made. WND PRINTERS' SUPPLIES, e Free. AN ST., BALTIMORE, MD. NG OF 188S, jarge Stock of HING JOYS AND cHIII ITS, SUITS, NEL SUITS, ERGE SUITS. sihinig Goods. nts' Fine Shoes an furnish you all the styles. rs in Caif ap4 iatt Kid. ill be atteiudpd to promptly. L KiNAnn. A copy of the Great Industries of the United States, a large $5 book, will be given for two names to the HERALD, if aompa nied by $4. Onl two subsri be; Fo r dlasi6s bcito s an lv i bo.st JANIE, THE GENTEI AN. BY MABEL C. DOWD. There's a dear little ten-year-old down the street, With eyes so merry and smile so sweet. I love to stay with him whenever we meet; And I call him Jamie, the gentleman. His home is of poverty, gloomy and bare, His mother is old with want and care There's little to eat and little to wear In the home of Jamie, the gentleman. He never complains-though his clothes be old, No dismal whinings at hunger or cold; For a cheerful heart that is better than gold His brave little Jamie, the gentleman. His standing at scbpol Is always ten "For diligent boys make wise, great men, And I'm bound to be famous some day, and then" Proudly says Jamie, the gentleman. "My mother shall rest her on cushions of down, The finest lady in all the town, And wear a velvet and satin gown" Thus dreams Jamie the gentleman. "Trust ever in God," and "Be brave and true; Jamie has chosen these precepts two; Glorious mottoes for me and for you; May God bless Jamie, the gentleman. -Wide Awake. tltt tb t 1. BEaTII IN TiE PIT. -0 Amy Glover was the prettiest lass in the village, and I loved her, but, as for that, all the young chaps in the village were of the same mind, but she never looked at one more than another. One day there was no work in the pit for my gang, and so I made i.p my mind that I would go and have it out with Amy. I set out with a brave enough heart, but just as I reached the cottage, who should come out but Amy herself looking prettier than ever; but - appearing so suddenly she dashed my spirit, and I hadn't a word to say to her. "Why, Charley, what is the mat ter?" she cried, in a frightened sort of way. "Well, it is just this," I said. And there I came to a full stop. "Is anything wrong with Jack?'' she asked, eagerly. "Jack !" "Yes; he is down in the pit, and they say it is foul. which makes mother and me uneasy. You've not heard anything?" "No," I answered, steadier now that I could comfort her. "lie is all right. You musn't mind what the old women say, or you'll be looking for a blow up every day in the year, when there is nothing more than common. I haven't come about Jack; it is about myself." She looked at me; then her cheeks flushed, and she turned away. "I want to tell you how I love you; I can't say all I want to, but here I am, and I wouldn't change for a king if you will take me as I am." "Ah, you don't know how you pain me," she answered. "Don't say that, Amy; but if you have pity in your heart show it to me, and I'll cherish you to the day of my death." "It is no use. I can never mar ry a pitman. I gave the promise to mother and Jack over the graves of father and three brothers, all killed at the same tinie." She looked at me thr'ough a mist of tears. and I turned .and left her without another word. I felt as if the sun would never shine for me any more; I thought I might as well be in my grave as to try to live there. Why shouldn't I go to Yorkshire or Derbyshire, or even to the diggings in Australia, for that matter? The notion of it gave me a little spirit. I turned my thoughts, and I stepped out more briskly, going strait home. I hadn't much to settle the?e tonly to bid1 gc4by to the people I lived with, and I soon came out, pack on back, and began my tramp. "I was walking on, when sud denly the air rang with a crash which shook the ground, I. knew what it signified; such wounds de note but one result in the black country, and, throwing down my pack, I darted off to the pit. It didn't seem a minute before I came to the dnst nea rondA the pit's mouth, but some were there before me, and people were rushing from the village in a stream. The smell from the pit almost threw me down as I came up, and I hat to get my breath a little when three or four of us crept on to the month and looked down. The explosion had destroyed the cage, but it hadn't injured the signal-rope; hence a means of communication remained for any one immediately below. As soon as I saw this I proceeded to rig a cross-bar, and presently had it ready. "Just lower me gently; I may pick up one or two, if there's any near," I said to two banksmen. "You can't go down yet," said the viewer, "How many are there in the pit?" "Half an hour ago - there were fifty; but I'm thankful to say they all came up but ten," replied the time-keeper. "And they are lost, for there will be another explosion presently," said the viewer. "I'll go down, anyhow," I said doggedly; and if nobody lowers me "I'll jump down." A good many were on the heaps now, and two or three called out, "Good-by, God bless you, dear lad." The banksmen lowered me down, and I sank through the pit's mouth, A Davy lamp was tied round my waist, and I held a rope in my hand, so that I might signal to be hoisted up, if the air became foul. But I had no intention of going back until I had searched the pit and seen if there were any alive. One thing, I didn't care about my life, and another I would have been ashamed to face the folks above without doing something, so I felt impatient that they lowered me at such a snail's pace, and I kept look ing up and downto measure the dis tance yet to be traversed. But my progress was notified by the in creasinggdensity of the air which began to affect my breathing; and as I went on I had to shift my face from side to side to make a little current. At last my feet touched ground. I looked yound as I jumped off the straddle, and saw the furnace was out, which put a stop to the ventilation of the mine, and no air entered but by the shaft. The stench was ov rpowering, and from this and the silence I guessed the worst. It was evident that the explosion had killed the horses, for no sound can.e from the stables, which were close to the shaft; and what hope could there be for hu man b)eings in a distant part of the pit? I did not stand to make these reflections; I was working forward as they went through my mind. I kne w the old pit blindfold, but what with the gloom and my shortness of breath, I was some minutes scrambling for the incline. When I reached the first gallery I pushed open the trap and went on a few steps, but my lamp was "afire," and I knew the atmosphere was so much gunpowder. As I stumbled along it came into my head what Amy had said about Jack being in the pit. I rushed forward like mad; my foot struck something; I bent over what appeared to be a corpse, and the gleam of my lamp fell upon its face. It was Jack. I caught him in my arms, and with the strength o,f a giant and the speed of a deer2,hardIly conscious, hardly breathing-I made a daslf for the shaft. It was easier work going back,when you were in the main or horse road, and I found that Jack was breath ing when I reached the sllaft. The discovery kept all my senses at work without my seeming to notice it. I only felt there would be another explosion. I placed Jack on the straddle and tied him hand and foot; then pulled the signal rope, and as the people above haul ed the tackle, I hung on by my arms. It wasn't till we had reached twenty feet up that I felt the strain of standing on nothing; but from that moment it became terrible. My hands seemed ready to snap and my head spun round in an agony. I watched the mouth of the pit until my eyes swam, and I thought I must drop before I r-eached the top. Then they began to hoist fas ter; I could pee the walls of the abaft: I could feel the purer air-. I heard voices; and presently strong arms caught me, and I was landed on the bank. They had Jack off the straddle before you could look round, and he was carried away, while they raised my head and poured a little brandy in my mouth. I called out for the viewer. "What is it, Charley Baston?" he asked, bwtding over me. "Everybody away from the mouth of the pit, sir," I said. "You are right; it will come in a minute or two, he answered. They got me to the top of the bank, when I heard a scream, and there was Amy trying to throw her self on her brother, but kept back by the other women. She never glanced at me. I wished then that I had stayed in the pit, or let my. self drop from the bar as I came up, and so escaped seeing her again. But I made up my mind that I had looked on her for the last time. I told my helpers that I could walk now and when they let go my arms I turned toward the moor intending to pick up pack and drag on to the next village. But I could no morewalk five miles than I could fly. When I came to my pack I sank down by it and felt that I must give up. I was so beat that though the second explosion at the pit shook the ground under me, I didn't lift my head. All I thought of was lying quiet. By degrees I recovered a little strength, and my thoughts took me to my old lodging, where I decided to rest before I set out on my wanderings. The day passed, and the night, and the next day, and I was still in bed, the good folks of the house at tending me like a child. My limbs, which had been racked with pain, now felt easy, and I was ready for a start again. But I thought there would be opposition, so I got up very quiet, and was putting on my things, when the door opened, and in came Jack Glover. "Hilloa, Charley here we are !" he cried, seizing my hand and giv ing it a hearty squeeze. "Who would have thought of us two being alive to-day?" "Well, Jack, I am glad for you, bnt I shouldn't have cared for my self," "How's that?" "I have something on my mind." "You !" he said, laughing and giving me a little push. "Here, sit down and have a pipe, and it will all go off like the smoke." "I don't care if I never smoke a pipe again," I said savagely. "Now, I'll tell you what it is; you've been having a tiff with our Amy." "I haven't." "Well, you know best about that, but you were seen talking with her, and she had a crying fit directly after. And when she heard from me that it was you brought me up from the pit, she fell fainting in my arms." "Didn't she know that until you bold her?" I asked. "Then I'll just tell you all about der and me," I said. I was long time telling it, but Jack sat by as if was listening to a lay or a sermon at chapel. I told aim of the feelings Amy had raised .n my heart; told him how I had w'atched for her; thought of her; Ireamed of her; and, finally re :ounted our .latest colloquy. Jack iever moved a muscle, and not ill I stopped for l?reath did he nut in a word. "Don't you think you have been a little fast old boy?" he then said. "How do you mean?" "Why, in giving up so. Suppose wrhen Amy said she couldn't have you, you had put your arm around der waist and said she must?" The view bad never struck me, and rather took me aback. "But there was her promise to you and her mother never to marry a pitman." "So there was. But did you never hear that promises were made to be broken?" "I can't say but I have," I mut tered, clapping on my hat. "Where are you going?" "You wait here a minute." With that I took two strides down the staijs into the road into Mirs. Glover's cottage. I stood out ide a minute, then I opened the door, and thefent tMinglTsaw wan Amy sitting by her mother looking 1 like a ghost-only ghosts never . look pretty. She gave me one look then started up and sprang into my arms. My heart was so full I couldn't speak at first, but I thought i I must do something, so I slipped my arm around her waist as Jack; i recommended. Now I felt sure of I her, and of all the happiness the I world could give, and as my breast swelled proudly I began to bear a little malice. 1 "Ah, Amy, if you had only loved me," I said. ] She tightened her arms around my I neck. "How happy we might have I been !" I continued. I "Then we can be, Charley," she E said. "How? We can never marry, you know." 9 The little fingers unlocked, and I < felt Amy falling away, but I re- I membered Jack's.counsel and held I on by her waist. 1 "There's your promise to your t mother and Jack; how are we to get 3 over that?" I continued. "I forgot that," faltered Amy, as c white as a sheet. I "And what do you say to it, r mother?" I cried to the old lady. c Mrs. Glover got up and took t Amy's hand and put it in mine. ' "That's what I say to it," she r said heartily, "and Jack is of the I same mind." I "And this is what I say to it," I I cried, giving the girl a kiss. 1 You won't be surprised to hear r that we were married the next week. I And now I am the viewer of the colliery; and as for Amy, she will t tell you that, though she has mar- t ried a pitman, and has her ups and ( downs like other people, there is t no happier woman in the kingdom. C t t ~ I OUR NEW YORE LETTER From our own Corresponlent. ] BRIDGE MAD-ST. BRIDGET'S DAY- l THE CITY FILLED WITH STRAN- I . GERS-THE NIGHT SCENE ON THE ( RIVER-SOMETHING FAR AHEAD 1 OF THE CENTENNIAL-THE PRESI DENT GROWING OLD - FREDDY GEBHARD'S LATEST SET - TO - GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND'S f THIRASHIING. NEW YORK, June 5, 1883. t *Brooklyn has been bridge mad for a week past, and New York be- ' came so yesterday. Truly how- a ever, there are few celebrations in a I nation's career that so thoroughly I appeal to pride, and give reason J for national satisfaction, as the ~ completion of this stupendous and a yet graceful structure. It is an c American piece of work throughout; I and the crown set yesterday upon I the brow of John Roebling reflects a honor and credit upon the whole c American people. As Mayor Low r pointedly stated, when, in 1837, not I far from where the bridge now I hangs, a screw-dock was built, we a had to send to England for li the engines. To-day not a splinter, ti not a bolt, nor a cable, is of any- a thing but American growth and a American manufacture. The genius, too, that dictated it is American; the money raised for it comnes out of d our pockets; and not a structure ex- I ists in the entire civilized world , that can compare with it in solidity, e vastness, and at the same time so h~ graceful in its appearance. n Of course the city is filled with za strangers. There must have been a a million of strangers from all parts ti of the country here yesterday. They ti even came from across the Alle- a ghenies, and in several hotels they s had to place cots in the parlors. b~ But, then, the sight these people k witnessed last night fully repaid a them for their trouble. Talk of a your Centennial! It was a mereg flea-bite compared with the grand, e at times awe-inspiring scene that at p least three million of people wit- t) nessed last evening when the fire- c works were set off from the bridge, h when the North Atlantic Squadron e and its five large men-of-war were o illuminated by electric light, when, s from the hill-tops of New Jersey, a balls of fire greeted the rejoicings I of happy Brooklyn, with her church- h esuiluminated, the ships in the har-j' bow decked with Chinese lanterns, a he forts from time to time belching orth the salutes that were almost frowned by the huzzahs of the nasses, every pier, every dock, ,very tug, every craft filled with vell-dressed men and women, every me of whom felt the better for wit. iessing a scene that crowned the riumphs, not of war, but of civiliza ion, progress and labor. The only man most observed by ill, who, it struck me, was the most ensive, the most calm, was the "resident of the United States. ?verywhere he was received, both tere and in Brooklyn, with tremen Ions hurrahs, to which he continual y responded in his own gentleman y style. Yet there was an air of adness about him. He looked areworn, haggard, and to us all rho have known Chester A. Arthur a the handsome, jolly New-Yorker >f the past, he is no more the same. .verybody was surprised to see ow wonderfully he had aged. He ooked at least 25 years older yes. erday than he did when, only three ears ago, he stood side by side rith poor Garfield on the balcony f the Fifth Avenue Hotel, full of ope, full of cheer, and full of that obust life which he had acquired iuring his many years of activify in be best circles of the metropolis. 'o me he looks no longer the same ian; and his own face shows that e is tired of official life, and that e longingly looks to the day when e once more can resume his city ife, his club visits, his social con ections, his pastimes and his law ooks. The 'knock-down' epidemic seems 3 be around. We had quite a num er of them during the week. Young irebhard, the escort of Mrs. Laig. ry, got a taste of Mr. Sanford's pen hand simply because the lat er was leaving Delmonico's at the idnight hour with some of his riends, and Gebhard was asking Lim whither he was going; he re lied that they were going to see ome "ladies," perhaps also Mrs. angtry. Gebhard said that was a ie, and in response to that state aent he was made to produce some laret, not from Delmonico's cellar, ut from his own nose. It is a hame, however, the manner this oung Freddie Gebhard is bothered, ,nd it is simply because the other ellows are jealous of him. They rould all be glad to have such a ice girl at their heels as this young hap. George Alfred Townsend, the rell-known journalist, also received severe drubbing at the Gilsey louse, night before last, from the rother of Maud Harrison. George Llfred, who writes for a dozen pa era, it appears, has lately made a evere attack upon various women f the theatrical profession, in fact, e stated, that few of them are no etter than they ought to be, everely criticizing also the conduct f Maud, who lives quietly with her iother in 23d street. Her brother )uncan who is a well-built Custom [ouse officer, gave George Alfred most severe licking, and the pro fic quidriver did not even attempt > defend himself, and took it ex etly like a school-boy takes a panking. BADIX. Before the publication of "Stu ents' Songs" pnblished by Moses ing, the Harvard publisher, there ras no collection of college music c)ntaininlg the songs which have ad their origin, and become pop lar, within the ten or fifteen years, ot merely at one college but at [1 the leading colleges throughout 2e country. All existing collec ons were out of date. The new angs, of which a great number had prung into life, were no where to e found in print. They were nown only to comparatively few; nd unless they were put in perma ent form, they would soon be for otten and lost forever. The first dition of "Students" Songs" was repared with a view to preserving iese songs and to make them ac essible to all. The success of the ook was immediate. The demand iceeded the supply; and the sale f the~ entire edition of six thou and copies, in l6ss than four ionths, showed how urgently the eed of some such collection had een felt. The second edition of Students' Songs" was, in reality, a entirely new book. It containd UvArdesms at I ,10 $q@=nfoasilah 1zrmile Doae oeavriseasia tg onabove. Nod= dotis qabi f Nuonee ts in a ..a caot a brof bltos w lb kpt b ad ebeget aensalleir-ia 8pednl coatts m & doom with obera - aoa JOB T DONZ WITH NEA2eS ANDI TERMS CASH. none of the songs comprised first edition, but was made p; other entirely new songs I merit and popularity. IAky~ predecessor, it had a most able sale. The whole eMa . five thousand copies was exhausted before the de-a half supplied. Fora logtpf book has been out of prlnlc has -been impossible to copies anywhere. The many who have tried in to obtain a copy of"tde Songs" will learn with pl a third and greatlyenlargedii of the book is just off the The book comDpries the son. both the first and the eo: tions, and contains, bes, than twenty pages of entielyl music, including all the. v college songs of the day with accompaniment. Most of the. in the book are copyrighted? never before been printed,A be found in no other collea ni book is gotten up in exoeleitj It makes a handsome quarto sixty-four pages, nearly size, with engraved cover-ot and appropriate design. has been taken in songs and in making the and no pains have been spm make the book as nearly possible. It is offered to te lie as the only collection of newest and most popular songs. The new edition of Songs" was compiled by Mr. liam Hills, Harvard class c[': and is published by uMees Cambridge, Mass. It is siabR low price of fity cents. TARIFF TROU3BIsB "Why did you strike this asked a justice of thepec prisoner. "I had skst e ,ue or. He came to my house day on avialt. H. children and langhedst ter's singing, turned up 1*s a fish I had caught, and wife to a great dealef dinner-time" "But. all this gave you mo to strike him with astiekot wood." "I know, but let me get After dinner he took aklde day seat and began to ta&on Tariff question. Then I hit Mmda "Tarfr, eh? I flne you ea lars for not shooting him." . When we see a tighti man trying to enjoy a goel with a smile on her mouth tears in her eyes, we think-o dear old: hymn which beghi.r joy be ucconfined.' - -- e - - A giantess, MarianWdd name, is being exhibited in chester, Eng. She is years of age, eight feet and inches in height, and stil ing. Large feet are now so among gentlemen of style that cago dudes are wearingtei ters' shoes. gins to develop very early in The first and greatest af faults is to defradoursclves Desperation is sometimes aspc erful an inspirer as genras. Despeaate diseases must~ desperate remedies. A true man will not swere the path of duty. Bustle -is not indusuy noi pudence courage . Trust not the man who with an oath. Nothing is troublesome that. do willingly. We seldom repent pf se eaten too little. - * *. Always look on the rigbht everything. If yo. areindibtombd puof you.