Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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VOL. II. MANNING, CLARENDON COUNTY, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, FRBRUAR A Desperate Thougwt. "What if there is no God:" Tho re'ii thought Took hideous shape within my muortal br,iu Then instantly my share o. itorial l- iIn Pressed heavier on my heart. 1.ik: n : blot, Hurled out on spae, ombiight og '. Snot Reeking with tears and b boodsb-. gea . gain, This sorrow-laden world srnieee naon vain, And but a ghastly jest, man's anguiedI(.I lo. The universe contracted on my sight, Down to the limits of a prison ipn Its one dark door. an opeinr in t hs sod. I lung my arms up heavenwrd min auman I or sudden nwiness m. aredit- .I.,a-n I cried aloud, "There is. iblicr is a G v'" --Ella wh.eler wileu.o M"1ISTAKE-N. Thoughtless Word? and the Re,ul-ts Th'vy Wrought in Two Young Live%. A cool breeze blew up fron the rvr. It playe4 mong the reeds, :nd: grasses on the bank and r'n laiy up 6e slope toward the white maz:iin on the hillside, flutteringt the vmia zn: fringed the wide piazza where of voung girls sat chating. rknt, or busying themselves with dainty n work. "Wht a delicious breezel" exela imI Florenco Freeman. rising as she spoe. The slender, thoughtful-looking yun man rectining unseen in the depths of a large easy chair just within one of the long windows glanced up from the pages of a book in which he had been absorbed, and his dark eves followed her'o'raceful figure admirin gly. sets me wild to be domug some thing," she continued, pacii up and down the long porch. -Do you know. girls," pausing abruptly, . -we re a s't. ,& slaves?" "0. Fiorrv?" exclaimed a laiuhing w ee, "now don't give us a lecture on om~an's rightsi "Never fear: that isn't what I was minking of. We are hindered by cir .umstances from bcing and doing wI . ore feel is ithin us to'be and do. "Listen, girls," interrupted another 3ice, "Florry is on her hinz hirse. Iow we shalf see some praneh:." ".Laugh away." returned Iorenc. "I'm in earnest. Why must we. be 4ause we happen to have drifted ito a certain channel, or because a1 particular course is marked out for us by friends. drift on down the stream or keel) on in the same course to the bitter end. even though we must smother the best there is in our natures in doing so?" Intense feeling emphasized her words, and her unseen listener found him:df wondering what personal experi : had prompted them. Amy Gray ha d her eves. "D'uty is often unpleasant." she said, "but it is best, after all. to have a settled plan and purpose and cling to them thronh everything. Think what a chaos woukfresult if we all followed our own inclinations. and, worse than that. whatever might for the moment be our ruling passion." Florence did not answer for a mo ment; her eves were roving across the wide sweep of the river, wlhere a white sail glimmered iii the afternoon un shine. "0, yes; there must be phins. of course, and they nmust be carried out. or nothing would be accomplished. But take special cases. There is cou-in Dora, for instance. Why must she give upI her painting to marry Fred Long. mere ly because she promised to when a mere child, and didn't know what she w'nt ed? Of course I don't sav :'ything against Fred. He is good as .cod 1but he can't appreciate her talemn. . by he has begun lio interfere withu herciu already. Says she works too strad'y, and wants her to give up some wor0k she had undertaken in order to be . r ried sooner. She onvy laughedt ovrt Of course she wouldn' t 'ay myting, but we can alil see she does't tlove "im. How can she, when lhe hasi no symp"athyi with her on that subject? y 3ow, why can't she say so. and be free?" "She feels her resaonsibi'.i," said Amy's soft voice. -Slie knows'how.; de voted Mr. Long is to her." "Sh-h! here she comes." whispered Edith Stanley as a bright-faced girl flat tered up fromn the garden, like a dainty white butterfly, and perched hera tl on the steps. A dead silence fell on the group for a moment. n~ad then Donm turned her laughing fact towarua her cousin: "Go on. Florry. Xou were giv ing a lecture, weren't you? I could hear you 'orating.' but couldn't catch a word of the discourse." "It's ended now.," said Florence cool lv, mentally resolving never to b~ sq) careless again in mnentionig r-ei' cases," id unless some on-zas t Iken i notes you c:an never hop~e to knowv iny thing' about it. for it was quite imi pro..'' And, taking her coutl' arm, she marched her up and down t u piazza humming a gay air. Meanwhile, w.ithiin the windowsv. the. young man sat motionless, his tinge'r still between the pages that only t ew momenats agro held him speil~oiund: though his world had fallen in~ ruin' around him since Florence began hi.r "lecture." Outside the breeze ralnr among the tree-tops and ralled th shining bosom of the river. The Autit sunshine lay mellow on the gralssbu he heard nothing, saw nothing. The tea bell rang suddenly and s.irt ed him out of Tis meditattions. Th'le girls disappeared with much chatter a"d gay laughter, and lie rose mechanic iy adwalked like one in a dream ona through the garden and on into a Iite grove beyond, his one thought to be alone where no human eve could add to his torment with its questioning~ elance. There, under the trees, w'here le and Dora played in childhood. he walked to and fro, one sentence rmng ine in his ears like a sentence of doom: "ecan all see she doesn't love him. It was hard to come down fronm the pinu nacle where he had imagined huimnelf; crowned king of one heart. 'When D~ora, only 15 then. had given" him her hand so confidingly a' they walked together in this very gri only it was morning then, and -prmt time, and .the air was filled w.ith te scent of wild crab-apple blooms, and h wore them at her throat; how plainly. he could see her now, all in white, and the pink of her cheek so like the d ainty blossoms-he had taken the gift un questioningly, and no doubts hiad ev.er assailed him. He knew. her devotion to art and wits proud of her success, but he had never dreamed that it would be bi iy1 in her affections. I It ben 1o Mi:' ie quest0euiod. . my littl.e Dor' m'iting must be done, and that at n Shold he to Dora and ask if 1 tn weetu That would be i v -liav yo.u b)een deceiving :. lthese vear?" Hle (loui not do :.H mut'wait. with what patience he cou'ld. until he could decide for him -f. He was very thankful that Dora haid not quite dee'ided to be married in thet fall, as thatt would be one test he cou'd puzt ler to. It is something to ha-tve -an idwa tiat can be acted upon at 0 nd he retraced his steps toward 1t.ho wi'h thlii one purpose in yN-w. Liw shall he find a minute in wh c-h to -peak alone with Dora? He teels that lie ealinot bear the suspense 'mi anoth. r day shall come. and then nmetLo himself, "Fool' what- if it nm i-t : lifetime? What if I at nvr I t) know?"e AS het reached the piazza a oirlish vo.ct, cred out e:1atriv: O. Mr. Tjng! V i(Tr hiave vont h'een hiding yourself?" and in -:n itstant h- Vas surrounded by . ho sColded and qu -i or .d with such -vivacity that their victim toutnd it unnecessary to say a word: in. in fact. quite impossible. TP Dor: rose from the piano. Here, Donr",called Edith Stanly, --ht-r is the deserter. What shall be done to him?"* And they led him be fore his bright-eyed judge. Dora had never before seemed to him just as >he did at that moment-so far awa.-Is i ia ;reat gulf were fixed between theIn. le could scarcely believe in her bright iooks, everything seemed so un real, his lifte was - sa han to its foun dations. It was only by a great eiort that he roused himuelf1 to inake some commnonnla'Cxu. Dora'' ti st careles gl tce at his pal d foe chan'ed to one of alarm. The lin froi .n o(en window fell upon it :,d -.: -w its deadly pallor. "Why, Fred: cried. --vou careless boy! You vill be sick azain. Come and have Onwt.- I w he led the way to the dHn-reom. How ' s-VI" .Conim Dor-a. I have something to tell Vn." aInd then. havin- her all to him 'elf. pour out these miscrable doubts and fears in her ear and so be free from them. But no: here was this crowd of chattering girls-besides. she must not know lie had such doubts. Even if she said, --I love votz," could he be sure she was not savin'- It because she believed it to be her dity. And so he finished the evening as bet he could. and all night long his heart tormented him with 1everal das passed before he found In oOrtuniltv to speak alone with Dora. Th ow w1as tilled with a number of young guests. and Dora must be every where. Fred Long was just now taking a well-arned vacation. .. After years of" hard work and nionths of illness he had come back to the home of his childhood to regain lost health and strength. He had called this the happiest summer he had known. biut now an untimely frost had spoiled its beauty. Among the friends whom Dora was entertaimimg her cousin Florence Freeman was the 011 one he had previously known. Nat uralv they drifted tog,-the-r during these isl-abl' (:Ivz. With Dora lie wa Su.idnlv ill 'at case and restless: her uitk eys nted the changre, and she looked about for a cause. Those same (uiek, evces oon niticed the walks and talks withi cauinh Fiorence. --No won di-.- rs hiin." she said. with a h1 io %tlpn a, her heart. mentally com-stn talL handsome Florence with her own little self. Pres-ntly the ilock of merry school 'iti- took 11light. --Onlv lore!nce. and '\u and~fl I. said Dora:'-just asit usedl to b'." Butt fortt both Iim oldl chairm One d-av'they w..akedi together aiong the~ rivi bamk, and Dora said, *-Our --Ye-, h'e answered. " I must go back o my 1:nI books :mid voui umst have t~m- bor vottrpum . A lighd e~nmm into) h r eyes. "Then I amt to go on p:ung.i~/k --." he said slowly. "I amt mak in! ti satcricie for yout. I do not wish yiou to maiirrV me until you havie linished ths wor-k vou have set your heairt upon. It will oceatv vout- whole winter?' --Yee: p)L1haps motre. Give mte a year." -ohe satid eage-riy, quite untcont -oeious of the pain her words inilicted, and on.v an.xiouts for- timte wherein to pro0ve wheth.er. after all these years of devotion. Fried could be won fronj JAeir. -ery well,"- came the antswer, calm --d euv. No tr-emtling in the quiet tone to i. -Ltray the hiart s unutterable anuih as a- whi-pered to itself, "-How d se i to be free evren for a year.' 'As ftor Do-a, her heart was saying. -Ie dots not cr-." Antd then th er 1:dked of indifferent ma~tters. tes t-.'.o foolish onecs, and the trecous5 houtrs in which they might ve understood each other slipped :v and were g-one forever. )htee moo: e ap'art. their letters wereecx c:u, -d at r-ezular intervals-Fred's id~ and loving. --Of course." said 1r.'-it is his duity. while D~ora's weea.uio- studyl ha-d her- lover but kumvn.i Ehon little cooler, a tle 1)rifer thani the l:n-t, until by the tie sp ring had tr -.e the fields antd w~o i green aia~~ poor Fred had wel-itgh male up a his~ mind that Flor cnee w'as. r~it. D~ori' hearut wa~s ailI in -er.p itn -lhe ha"d grown quite -:1'hi - upe . is klling me" lie wub ida "but- l' wait-it is better it w ill s e.. Andt l-.ru. work' . -herself to a shad ow ver t-; pati'u would think: '''oon h1-ed frid i. sel asi i h. Il famiiar h aunts. bt- :-is: th i j P-"l;:t waso wanut - ~metl :: * ove everytihing, and Dora a . : :tlawa 1 in ev.. T::..r o- a: merr gu- .s to divide her semio: Em. '0-red, sos lent di .s:- eei lhe could't hardly be .*.v it wa' th r''.:u- Do he hd known A ui e- -:wd'i b --a wet-k of mninghcd prdh ind o tortzient. Some(timies hie wou,~ld bt an the- pon of sayving to her-: Doa I w ili stan~d in Vour way no0 lontger: bmt a faint hop- sill lingu-ered, itd he could1 i not crush it so ruthlessly. A o ther tim'es he could almost believe iself' mistaken-all tnese months al fenafl d..rm-.when hoe ere met hin so earne.,lv anf .xen:ii nuert for a mo ment with the o0l. w::rm light. They sat. together one (a upon a litle r:;Ze ,eat, ehat ing Znd1( resting after a walk. 'red had taken some lett-r-s fromi li' xo'ket which he wished to lhow to Do .% A nie'r fll from anui mir :x;-m D~ .op:: to recover it. i~n Flory.'' She murmured, and Fred b-gan umkng some conimon place renark tion s correctness. The lncing at his con1panon's face, he was start!;-- at its i deadly pallor. "Dora:- he eri'ed. ou are ill. We walked too far. You oust rest.'' --N., I'm not ill." he said almost sharoiv. -Iow lovelv Fornce is. -Ye-:. indeed. Sh' ts wvell-nigh per feet. But there is only one Dora in all the world. takin-r hxer little. cold hand in his. "Without Dora the world is meaninglcss to me." l)ora's eves were scanning the dis tant hills. She made no reply. She was ste-ling her heart against him 'le wants to be troe." she thought, --but I will have no sucih love. --Dora. -oi arc not happy. se sutarted. --Not perfectly so. What mortal i.?" -It seems to ine I would be if only things could be as they once were be twcen Its. This was the firzt allusion he had made to the fact that he had noticed any change in their relations. Dora realized that a crisis was com ing. She simply awaited it in silence.. She would neither strive to avert nor to hasten it. "I have som.etimcs feared that you and I have been mistaken. That is the word. I think. If so. I love vou too well to ask you to keep a promise which has become hateful to you." Dora rose from her seat; a sudden fire flamed in her pale cheek. She held her hand out toward him-the dear little hand that wore his ring. Some thina in her air bewilderedhim. He stood a moment motionless. then seized the hand in both his own. She shook him of impatiently and drew the ring gog her finger. Now he understood. ..WVith6iC _2 word. Dora?" he said, struggling for a man might battle for life against the waves of a sea. "What is there to say?" asked Dora, her voice clear as a silver bell, while her eves shone like two stars. And ngain he told himself that lie: --She is lad!" And so they parted. The tie formed almost in childhood was broken, and they went their separate ways. Dav after day Dora's pale, resolute face 'bent over her canvas, and she steadied her trembling hand for greater achievements. She worked too hard, ther said. She was too ambitious; she put too much of her life-blood into the strokes of her brush, and a few months ended the struggle. He came again to the dear old house beside the river; a crowd of friends had rathered there, but Dora gave them no welcome. Pale and silent she lay and stirred not a finger nor an eyelash for any of their tears. He stood there with lorence, and that still form between them: its smiling lips were no more si lent now than thev had been in life. A dumb patience wva marked on the sweet face, but they never guessed its meaning. "If she might only have lived!" sobbed Florence. Fred spoke not, but the bitter cry of his heart was. "If I could only know that she loved me!" And they never dreamed, these two er nearest and dearest-that they had slain hex'. George Sheridan's Joke. Gen. George H. Sheridan, "of Louisi ana," lives now at the Union Square hotel and is coming to be known as a Union Square notability. He has had a heckered political career, but he has ad a good liv'ing through it all, evi lently, for he has grown stouter and stouter with each succeeding year, until his short figure now carries upward of 250 pounds of flesh. As a stump speaker e has been and still is in great demand. is talks arc a mixture of witty stories and eloquence which is taking with the people. A politician of Ohio related to nc yesterday an incident of one of Sheridan's engagements which had a udicrous ending. Sheridan was posted for a speech in a manufacturing town n northern Ohio. It was an o.y-t ad the Den crats were expecting to x'r the 'dounty through Republican in dife'rence and the labor vote. They idn't want Sheridan to make a speech< for fear lie wculd rouse up all the Repub icans, but how to keep him away wast problem. They hit upon a plan at: last, anid when Sheridan arrived he wast urprised to meet a cordial reception from several Democratic acquaintances< ho pressed him with invitations to go< out and "smile." He finally went out with them and was conducted to at saloon where he found a number oft other choice spirits, but all Democrats. hey began to ply him with invitations o drink, and it soon popped into his ead that they had a scheme to make im drunk and let the meeting be a i falure because o~ his non-attendance.t hen he became satisfied that this was their game he went in for as much funf as anyone. It was' 2 o'clock when they t went into the saloon. At half-past 7 he walked out with a slightly unsteady step, but with a perfect control of his< otions. while every' other man of the t rowd was under the table. He weont to < the hail where he was to speak and de-1 ivered one of the finedi efforts of his 1 ife, not forgetting to tell the story of: how thxe enemy had tried to trip him up. 'he county rang with his speech for at week, and was carried for the Republi cans.- Y Tribune.4 On His Tongue's End. Col. Fizzletop has a wretched nmemor'y. He is very m uch puzzled to remember the simplest thing that is told him. -What is the name of that patent medicine Col. Witherspoon told nie to 1 et for nmy liver?'' he asked his wife. I can't remember the nxamie to save nv life." "I can't either. My memory is gettingc ~orse and worse every day. Let med tee. I had it on the end of my tongue a(e ninute ago." 11 Little Jfohnny spoke up and said: s "Stick out y'our tongue, pa, and let e see it. Perhaps thiat name is on it A PECULIAR CUSTM. A Ludicrous Practice in Which Mans Ocean Travelers; are Compelled to Take Part. A Cambridge undergraduate, now on his way to the cape in a trading vessel, sends ihe following interesting commu nication to tL Pall Iall Gazetk: One of the oldest customs of the sea lately came under my notice, and in such a way as I am not likely to forget. As usual after our 6 o'clock tea, we were seated in the saloon enjoymig our game of cribbage. when a blast from the fog horn. fit to awalken the dead, put an end to our cards. Ilurriedlv we made for the deck, where a sight never to be for gotten met our eyes. The evening was dark and cloudy. the moon entirely hid den, but the (leek was brilliantly illu minated with blue lights. From the fore castle was issuing a procession that bafiles description. Firs: walked Father Neptune himself, leadirg on his arm his young and beautiful wife. Amphitrite. Neptune was dressed in long, white flowine robes-that is, a nightshirt; aroun' his head waved his gray locks, blowing before the wind in every direc tion; his beard reached below his waist; on his head lie wore a miter of such tremendous size as to drive any bishop wild with envy; in Jiis hand he bore his trident. His wife's dress was evidently on the plan of "beauty unadorned." for some red paint, a small red flag, and a pair of red bathing-drawers constituted her costume. Her flaxen hair in curly masses reached ker knees. Following this august couple walked the hero of the evenin-the barber. Dressed all in white, wearing a hat the shape of a dice-box, half white, half black, with curly white hair and whiskers, he was sublime; but the sublime changed into the awful when one perceived that he carried in his hands instruments of tor ture rivaline in their latent cruelty even those of theInquisition. Imagine stand ing and gazing upon a bucket of flour and water mixed to about the thickness of liquid glue, of which you know you will receive a large share-on your head. Eo ; can, from that sight, and look again. In his_&rfand he holds a razor of such magnitude that iYt4U not be ill amiss for felling trees, and think that soon that edge of rough, rusty iron will be plowing its meander n' course over your innocent jaws. 'ollowing this torturer came two olicemen armed with cudgels and dark anterns. Behind them crowded the crew. In spite of the awful solemnity of the scene, one could not but admire the dark, cloudy sky, the sea a blaze of phosphorescence, the flickering summer ichtning, the g-roupina of the actors. altingr'before the after deck, Neptune, in a oud voice, with such calm disre gard as to where he put his H's as would make any classical author turn in his grave, gave utterance, "Earing that some of the crew of this ship is such as they 'ave not vet crossed the loine, and bin baptoized, my sons. I ham 'ere to see them done so." Evidently Nep tune's intercourse with British sailors has been to the disadvantage of his elo quence. The sailors, at the finish of Neptune's peech, cheered loudly, while from their midst stepped the two brawny police men, one of whom was a nigger from )emerara, and seized upon T. Mean while the torturer was not idle. He had seated himself upon a low stool, with his bucket before him, in his left hand a brush like a housemaid's broom, while with his right he was sharpening his azor on the companion-ladder rail'ings. las for poor T. He stood smiling be ore his executioner, who, evidently hinking the occasion far too solemn to mile at, put an end to his innocent erriment by inserting' as much as he pssibly could of his mixture into his outh." While he wvas engaged in hoking and spitting' out what he could . the &oncoction, h~is head was being overed to such an extent as to render! his features quite indistinguishable. hen that awful razor came into use, its road. rusty edge scraping away the ough like a plow in a clay soil. But ow difficult it is to take the dough out f one's ey-es andl mouth with a razor lade three feet long, one can not im gine till one has tried! His satanic ajesty, I1 mean the barber, having erpea ofE is uha leasd b ang,- MA two po/ eie~in came to the' ore again, armed with buckets of cold atr, which, utterly regardless of what ?art of the victim's body received the vatr. they threw in quick succession )ver him. I was the next victim, and wvent hrough the same terrible routine; but it last it was all over, and I issued fromi ie cold-water cure quite ready to see e fun in treating the others to thei r lose. It was a novel experience, and ie not likely to be forgotten. Then ollowed the others who had not crossed e line, some half-dozen of them, but o were miissing. The poic vere on after them. but it was an hour be ore the first was found, lying under eath the boilers in about the temper iture of the place I had wished the bar )er in when I was being shaved. All iis he endured rather than face his having, or, I should say, shaving his ce. HIe was quickly dragged upon e scene, and paid the penalty of his ar by receiving a double dose. Soon fter this the other, a boy, was found moeealed in a sail in the rigging; lie, 1 oo, got what he deserved for trying to 1 sape justice. After all were baptized,4 e had some songs and dances, the bar er being especially good at the latter, tad giving us some excellent clog-dances< nd breakdowns. Poor Neptune had< errible trouble with his wife, who, sud lenly discovering herself among a lota fsailors, became "skittish"-naturally,t vhat woman would not? The songs nd dancing finished, grog handed all ound. andl with three cheers for us on the crew, we retired to our cabins put on dry clothes, and to tear out indfuls of hair in endeavoring to rid ur heads of dough. And so we crossed he line.1 A Boston chemist has discovere~d a a of extracting an essential oil from nions, with whIch tears can be pro [uced at pleasure. One drop of this oil a hand kerchief will produce a copious ood. T1he oil bids fair to ha~ve a large Mle. de Lesseps is her father's confi-. etial scretary. Julian Hawthorne's Ideas. Mr. Julian Hawthorne, the novelist, was recently interviewed by a Chicago Daily Ncws reporter. The conversation turned upon the estiiation placed by Europeans on American works of tietion, and the question was asked: "Do you think the American novel is growino in popularity abroad, and what are its istinctive features thought to be by foreigners?" 'The American novel is certainly growing in popularity abroad, especial Iv in England, as will be seen by the frequenti~nllish reprints of our better novels. The reason for this is that there are at present so lew tolerable novelists in England. The English novel has been written to death, and, as even novel-readers must have occeasional nov city, they turn to our books with relief. The distinctive features of our work probably appear to them to be new sit uations, social conditions, and types of character and a certain minute accuracy of treatment from the literary point of view. Average English novel-writing is very slip-shod and careless." "What is your opinion of the school of 'mental vivisection'?" "I am not myself in sympathy with that school. 'Mental vivisection' is easy writing, but hard writing. I think it is due to a lack of mental energy and of imagination in those who practice it. It amounts to importing Your note books into your story, instead of show ing only the results and embodiment of a previous analysis, and is done by Shakspeare and the best writers." "Do you consider this departure of literature a part of the progress of the time or a morbid outcome of days too prosperous for romance?" "I think itr has nothing to do with the progress of the time. Ft only indicates that our novelists make less use of their imagination than any other class of our community. Perhaps the recognition they receive is too faint to stimulate them. The difficulty is certainly not on the side of any deficiency of stirring times. Timidity and lack of self-conti dence have more to do with it. Our writers consider their audience too much; no audience that they can reach is worth considerings as a literary tri S . 'Inspiration is deprecated, as if it must beeerthy or ill bred. A masculine poet or noclt much needed, and it might be well, at this stage of our literary history, to make it a penal offense for any woman to write a story." "Do modern novelists make their men and women do nothing but sit still and talk because there is nothing else for them to do?" "I shall rather say because it is easier to write clever dialogue than to portray characteristic'action." "What are your methods of working? Do you depend principally upon your observations or on our imagination?" "Observation is always of assistance in imaginative work if it can be sufli ciently emancipated from individual in stanes. On the other hand, nothing spoils a fictitious character so surely as to make it conform too closely to any real model. The requirements of the story must be allowed to mold and dap t it or the story will be ruined." "Do you have regular hours for work r do you wait for an inspiration?" "I never wait for an inspiration, and am not aware of having every been vis ited by any. I generalTy take a walk in the morning and write in the afternoon and evening. But I keep no strict rule in such matters." IDo von know what the 'terrible se ret' of~ 'The Marble Faun' was, or what he 'mystery that surrounded Miriam?" "If I kne'w 1 would tell with pleasure. MyV father never explained it. because it idl not come within the design of the tory that the 'secret' should be anything ut a typical secret-a human being olluted by involuntary' association with he sin of others. The Cenei tragedy is an instance of such an occurrence, and s therefore made prominent in the tory. but whether or not Miriam was he ictim of a similar castrophe was er private business, and of no import o the nmoral of the tale." A Light-Giving Mexican Insect. At a recent meeting of the Academy f Sciences at Paris a plate half filled sects about an inch in length, which bone like diamonds, although the room vas 'filled with sunshine, was passed round among the members. These in acts had been brought from Mexico, .here they are to be found in the for ~sts. The scientific name is the pyro hore; and, as none had ever been seen ~efore in Europe, they created quite a ensation. The light resembles that of glow-worm or fire-fly, although as mch more brilliant and intense as an ~lectric-light surpasses a wax taper in s power of illumination. When the ght begins to fade it can be made as )rilliant as before by shakino the in-j ect or dipping it in water. It is said e Indians et Mexico use them for a iht at nig'ht, and a few will suflce to lu'.nate an entire room. When they ee alkin at night they put one on ich foot nso that they can be sure of heir way, and also that they do not :ep on any venomous snake or reptile, vithi which the tropical forests abound. 'he Mlexican ladies buy them of the In ans and inclose thenm'in a transparent )ag, which they wear in their hair or at e neek. The effect is very beautiful, ;peially when several are worn; and, s the Indians sell them for a few cents doen. they are within the reach of very fair one. They arc fed on suo'ar man, and if well takien care of williive long time! One placed upon a page il enable it to be read with ease mn e dar'kest night.-Scient~ifc American. Among the young meni of title and ortune wvho may be said to be cmn for the next~ Londoni season is Sir lenry Alfred Doughty Tichborne, who nill in May' next be of age. The youth 1 Baronet is now in his 20th y-ear, ving been born in May, 1866. The ecessity of dlefenidine~ his property rgainst'th.: ceh-'br'ated Ti.'hborne Claim t has entaled upon his trustees the iorious e'xpeniditur1e of E120,000. Ihis states are in l!impshiiire. Lincolnshirie, )oretshire, a~nd B::ckinghamushi'e, and prsenit betweeni 1 l 1.1) and 12.000 eies. Thier* are in additioni. Londofn ei,"' br'iningfl. up) the gross5 rent 11II'MUUUtY a sear'. Actresses and Their Appetites. "There are few actresses." says Sam. nel Stockvis in the Cook, "who do not appreciate a good dinner or know howy to select one. Adelaide Neilson was a devotee of gourmandism; ate often and late, was feted. dined, and wined on everv hand. loved nothing better than to be invited out socially, and actually died from feeding too much. Chain pagne was her favorite wine. Patti is a light eater-all singers are-but goes in for porter and Burgundy with a will. The fact that Mimme. Sealchi refused tc sing last season and compelled a *change, of bill" on the ground that she had eaten too late will not soon be for gotten by the chronicler of the capric ious records of prima donnas. Lillian Russell is very fond of salads, and will not eat a dinner in which they do not occupy a proinent position. Clara Louise Kellogg's fondness for pork and be:ins is thought by some to be her only fault. Mrs. Langtry is very fond ol Blue Points on the half-shell, and is very particular about. the cooking of hex viands. The special weakness of the English beauty is a fondness for brandy and soda, wiih a distinct underlyin'g tendency toward beer. Selina Dol aro, like most English wor men of the stage, has fallen into the habit of taking he tea at 5 o'clock, whether she has an en gagement or not. Marie Prescott keeps house in a flat, has a German cook, knows how to prepare a dainty meal herself, and has an able assistant in hex husband. Rose Coglan doesn't like a heavy wine like sherry if she is going to play, and usually indulges in cham pagne instead. She is a 6 o'clock diner, feeds well, and when chicken is on the board calls for the white meat. Ellen Terrv. while on the road, always has her ineals served in her room. as do Mrs. LangIry and Margaret Mather. The latter young lady does not dine out much. Miss Mather always takes an iced lemonade before going on in the balconv scene of "Romeo and Juliet." Nothing that Mile. Sarah Bernhardt has ever eaten has had a tendency to make her grow stouter, The great Freneb tragedienne always takes a glass of old cognac before going on the stage, dines in the afternoon, and takes a supper af ter the performance. Mme. Desclce, the renowned French actress, lived for the last year of her existence, when cancer -as drawing her inevitably to her grave, ti ,n grapes and inilk. Mime. Judic is said to a., good fee, and her embonpoint givesrno denial of the statement. MIlle. Aimee is highly appreciative of the pleasures of the table, but of late years? conscious of her in creasing stoutness, seeks to temper ap petite with judgment. When in the city she always dines at a favorite table d'hote in Twenty-seventh street. Mme. Rhea lately has been fetedalmost enough to undermine her constitution, but keeps up bravely. Mine. Janish loves a good meal and never fails to get one when the selection of the dishes is left to her self, when she takes good care to re member the solidly good things of fader land." Cleverness in Girls. I should say. observes a writer in All the Year Round. that to young oirls gen erally-to clever young girls 'crtainly cleverness seems to be an unmixed ad vantage. How delightful .to a clever girl of 15 or 16, who then perhaps enters upon regular school work for the first time-how delightful it is for her to find herself at the gates of a new world of thought, to feel the thrill of proud exultation which runs through her as she gazes at it, and exclaims with pardonable enthusias'm, "I can, at least, 'e monarch of all I survey!" How pleasant to see the gratification with which her masters gradually discover that one eager mind is drinking in all they say, and what trouble they will take to' answer and even to anticipate her difliculties! Howv pleasant, again albeit somewvhat dangerous-to receive the respect andh admiration which her shoolfellows will lavish uponl her, so long, at least, as she is sweet-tempered as well as clever-to respond to the many demands made upoii her for "Just one thought, dear, to put into my essay on -Procrastination': l've pat in all the dictionairy says, but that only fills up half my paiper!"'-to hear the vrable2'RIlia with -i thuat-she knows everything!" And then at the prize giving. how stimulating is the sense, not only that she is the observed of all observers, but that she is receiving the reward of work well and earnestly done as she bea:rs away prize after prize only tempered by the regretful wish that poor MIel issal. who is so sweet. but any thing rather than elever-and other kindred spiria. -could have hatd some thing more to rejoice in than the sue ess of their friend! A romantic marriage took place at Plakely a day or two ago. Miss Matmie addock of Damuascus was engaged to narry a popular youngt society man of Arlington Suinday. Laist night Edward . Shepherd. aoi foi sweetheart of hers, >id ai call to ofer his I ongra.tula1tion.. e ]:aughin~gly saitd: "Are you not sorry on didn't marr me?" n -She replied: Yes, when lie 11roposed that they get arried anvway Sh assented. Fri ay morning bright anid early they slip ed away and wer imarriiied by the Rev. . L. Wiggins.-SauannahL (Ga.) News. CAN'T BE BEATS 1IE DIVEN WELL MAKES IT EASY to get Water. o Well Cleaning. Cheap 1 Durable? CALL ON SUMTER, S. C. JACOBI HOUSE, FLORENCE. S. C. M. JACOBI, AGT-, PRoPR~IEToRI. 0irL'very Stable in connection, FeO 25 NSUBANCE AGENT, MANNING, S. C. Wm. Shepherd & Co., 128 MEETING STREET, CRARLESTON, SO. CA. STOVES, STOVES STOVES -AT WHO LESALE AND RETAIL! -o Tinwares, House Furnishing Goods, Potware, Kitchen and Stove Utensils. Wr Send7for Price List and Ciren lars. JA.4IAUSSEN & O., Steam MBkryhl Cudiy Etor, CHARLESTON, 8. C. W. A. Reckling, .AR T IST , 110i MAIN STREET, COLUMBIA, S. C. Portraits, Photographs, Ste reoscopes, Etc. OLD PICTURES COPIED AND ENLARGED. Sept 16 EDE L BROS., RICHMOND, VA., Manufacturers of Tobacco & Cigars, And Wholesale Liquor Dealers. GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL, Colu.mbia, 8. O'. V. H. FISHER, Prop'r. NOTICE TO FARMERS. I respectfully call to the attention of the Farmers of Clarendon the fact that I have secured the Agency for the Corbin Disk Harrow. Planet Jr. Horse Hoe and Culti ator, Johnson Harvester and the Coxa:l enta~l Reaper. I have one of each of these istruments for display at my stables, and will take pleasure in sowing ad explai. an afford o ithout$ tee imiplements. K. BELL, Agt., Apr15 Manning, 8. C. Notice ! I desire to call to the attention of the Mill en and Cotton Planters of Clarendon, tha Ihave seured th agenc yo ti OLVING HEAD GIN. Havigg used his Gin for several years I can recommend t as the best Gin now in use. Any infoc nation in regard to the Gin will be cheer fully given. I can also sup ply the people f Clarendon with any other machinery , hich they may need, at the lowest pricers. arties wishing to purchase gins will find t to their interst to give theirorder early. May 5 MannIng, 6. C. 7. F. B. Hmswoar, Sumter, B C. *~ . S. Ibra-Ems, M*"nne,..~Ca HAYNS WORTH & DINKINS, TTORNEYS ATAW, KaNNING, S. JOHN S. WO0N, ttorney angi Counsellor at MANWNING, 8, C, janil J. E. SCOTT, ttorney and Counsellor at Law, KANNING, s. C. feb.S rfnhe eo u dvresng he avtrhi h vs. one hundred thousand dollars in ad reisng a scheme sindicted which wl ri doe tys a cng sscil ard co EWSPAPER ADVEETISING BUEEAU.