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* SUIffTEK WATCHMAN, Established April, 1850* ? SO_ lBe Just and Fear not-Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's." THE TRUE SOUTH&dS, Established June, 1866. Consolidated Aug. 2, 1881.1 SUMTER, S. C., TUESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1884. New Series-fol. IV. ?Ko. li. &$e SSaitjjmait unir 0mif |rm --PtAUstod o??ry Tuesday, -BY THK Watchman, and Southron Publishing Company, SUMTER, S. C. TERMS: . Two Dollars per an n um-i n advance. V ADVERTISEMENTS. - OBS- Square, first insertion.Si 00 -Bverr subsequen t i nsertion. 50 ' . Contracts for three months, or longer will ~" be Bade at reduced rates. r> AU communications which subserve private ^ interests will be charged for as advertisements. ^ Obituaries and tributes of respect will be ,r charged for. Marriage notices and notices of deaths pub ^ I tabed free. Bur job work or contracts for advertising address Watchman and Southron, or apply at the Office, to N. G. OSTEEN, Business Manager. j----------a POWDER Absolutely Pure. This powder never varies. A marvel of . {tartly, strength and wholesomeness. More economical than toe ord "mary kinds, and can Btt&besol? in competition with the multitude - of low ?est, start weight, alum or phosphate pesrtrere. Sold only ia cans. ROYAL BAK? ING POWDER CO., 106 Wall-st., N. T. THE SUMTER PARK -AND A0BIGBLT?BAL ASSOCIATION WILL HOLD THEIR FIFTH ANNUAL FAIR ' --ON THE 18th, 13th, 20th and 21st NOFEMHBEK, 1884. CHAS. H. MOISE, ; j A"g* SEPT'Y k TREAS. A NEW TREATMENT . FprConsunition, Asthma, Bronchitis, Dyspepsia, Catarrh. Headache, Debili? ty* Rheumatism, Neuralgia, and all Chronic and Nervous Disorders. A CARD. "We, the undersigned, having received great and permanent benefit from ihe use of "COM? POUND OXYGEN," prepared and adminis? tered by Das. STARKEY & PALES, of Philadel - ph ia, and being satisfied that it is a new dis? covery in medica! science, ?nd -ill that is claimed for it % consider ita duty which we owe to the many thousands who are suffering . from chronic and so-called "incurable" dis? eases todo all that we can to make its virtues known and to inspire the pubiic with confi dence. We have personal knowledge of Drs. Star? key & Palen. They afp educated, intelligent, and conscientious physicians, who will not, we are sore, make any statement, which they do not know or believe to be true, nor pub? lish any testimonials or reports of cases which ' Sire not genuine. WM. D. KELLY. Member of Congress from Philadelphia. . ; T.S. ARTHUR", ? r " 'Editor and Pullisftcr "Arthur's Home * ' Magazbte," Philadelphia. V. L. CONRAD Editor of "Lutheran Observer," Philadelphia. . PHZLADELPSIA, PA-, JCXE 1, 1882. In order to meet a natural inquiry in re? gard to our professional and personal stand r ?txg, and to give increased confidence in our if nf I iiH?jamd tn the genniness of our testi - monials?pd reports of c?es, we print the above card from gentlemen well and widely known and of the highest personal character. OntlK Treatise on Compound Oxygen" con? stara ing a history of the discovery of and . iSode of action of this remarkable curative "agent, and a large record of surprising cures In Consomption, Catarrh, Neuralgia, Bronchi? tis, Asthma, etc., and a wide range of Chroa c diseases, will be sent free. Address Drs. STARKEY & PALEN. HOS k 1111 Girard Street, Phitadelpnia., Pa. A DESIRABLE RESIDENCE JPOIR. SALE. AWELL SITUATED FARM of one hun? dred and ten acres, about sixty cleared, situated one mile from Sumter C. H., S. C. A beautiful grove of live oaks around the dwelling, with well and fine spring of water. Terms accommodating. Apply to Joly 15 _A. WHITE. Agent. FOR SALEL THAT DESIRABLE SIX-ROOM HOUSE, with all the necessary out-bui!diugs, situated on Church Street, opposite the rei? deros of Col. J. H. Earle, where I now resile. Fine shade trees, fruit trees, and as good water as can be found. Ail large rooms ; bouse newly painted, and tot contain! about three acres of land. Centrally located to Schools, Churches and trance*?. Terms reasonable. A rare chance for pur? chasers. Possession given at any time. D. J. WINN. joly 29._ BLANKS LIENS, TITLES, MORTGAGES, BILLS OF SALE, BONDS, Ailfl Other Blanks in Variety? FOR SALE AX THIS OFFICE. A MISTAKE. How your sweet face revives again The dear old times, my Pearl, If I may use the pretty name I called you when a girl. Von are so young, "while time of me Has made a cruel prey, It has forgotten, you nor swept One grace of youth away. The same sweet face, the same sweet smile, The same little figure, too ! What did you say? "It was perchance Your mother that I knew ?" Ah, yes, of course, it must have been ; . And yet the same you seem ; And for a moment all these years Fled from me like a dream. Then what your mother would not give, Permit me, dear to take, The old man's privilege-a kiss Just for your mother's sake. ??RTTI?MRD BEARERS. FOR PRESIDENT : GROVER CLEVELAND, of New York. FOR YICE-PRESIDENT : TfiOS. A. HENDRICKS, of Indiana. --o STATE TICKET. For Governor : HUGH S. THOMPSON. For Lieutenant-Governor : JOHN C. SHEPHERD. For Secretary of State : J. N. LIPSCOMB. For Treasurer: J. P. RICHARDSON. For Adjt. and Insp. General : A. M. MASIG AULT. For Comptroller-Gen eral : W. E. STONEY. For Attorney-General: C- R-- MILES. For Superintendent of Education : A SB UR Y COWARD. For Solicitor Third Circuit: T. M. GILLAND. COUNTY TICKST. For Representatives : RICHARD D. LEE. J. REID MCLDROW, F. M. BECKHAM, E. M. COOPER. For Sheriff : MARION SANDEKS. For Clerk of Court: W. H. CUTTINO. For Judge of Probate : T. V. WALSH. For School Commissioner : E. C. ROGERS. For Coroner : D- J AULD. For County Commissioners : F. M. MELLETT, S. L. SHAW, R. E. MCLDROW. APPOINTMENTS. The Democratic Mass Meetings Throughout the State. The following is a list of the appoint? ments that have been made by the State Democratic Committee aud the dates on which the several mass meetings in the State will be held. Each mass meeting in the State will be addressed by either Senator Hampton or Senator Butler, several of the candidates on ihe State ticket, the candidate for Congress in the several districts, the candidates for Presidential electors, the candidates for Solicitor and other eminent mem? bers of the party : Chesterfield C. H., Tuesday. Oct. 14. Walterboro, Tuesday, Oct. 14. Hampton C. H , Thursday, Oct. 16. Bennettsville, Thursday, Oct. 16. Darlington C. H., Friday, Oct. 17. Marion C. H., Saturday, Oct. 18. Beauforte. H., Saturday, Oct. 18. Conway, Tuesday, Oct. 21. Georgetown C. H., Thursday, Octo? ber. 2a. Kingstree, Friday, Oct. 24. Sumter C. H., Saturday. Oct. 25. Manning, Tuesday, Oct, 28. Charleston, Wednesday, Oct. 29. Mount Pleasant, Berkeley County, Thursday, Oct. 30. Columbia, Friday, Oct. 31. ??????ana BRAVE BEN BALLARD. He was using his axe sturdily and with effect upon one of the great logs that went to make up Deacon Wilson's wood pile, that dull November after? noon-a thin little fellow with sandy hair and pale blue eyes, and a freckled, old-looking face, in which there was certainly no appearance of anything like heroism. Just at that minute, indeed, there was a cloud of mingled grief and anger upon it, and the tears Ben could not check were chilling on his cheeks. He was Deacon Wilson's bound boy, and was expected to work early and late for his food and clothes. He could scarcely remember thc time when he was not a bound boy, though the time haji been. A cottage in the little country town was occasionally pointed out as 'the place Rufus Ballard owned before he took to drink.' Poor Rufus Ballard ! There was no kinder hearted or happier mau in all Paynville than he, before the demon that lias ruined so many homes clutched and held in him his vicious grasp. Ben was scarcely four years old when his mother died, but ODe memory of his dreary babyhood still appeared to him, stand? ing out terribly distiuct agaiust the dark background of forgetfulness. Often he thought of it, and seemed again to sec his mather, as he saw her theu, lyiug, oh ! so white and still, her pretty soft hair all dabbled io the blood that was trickling slowly from a wound in her forehead. lier head had come in con? tact with 'a sharp oorner of thc 6tovc when she fell, struck down by her. hus? band in a fit of drunken rage. The shock sobered him instantly ; through j all hismadneeshenever before raised his j band against her. Now, with dry burn- ? ing eyes, he lifted thc insensible form j at his feet and placed it on the bcd ; j and be kissed the still lips with sad ! remorseful tenderness. All this Ben j remembered ; and he remembered, too, | always with grateful tears swelling up from his lonely little heart, how his father had turned to him, then, taking him in his arms for a moment, and ! stroking his bair. 'I've been a brute/ he said, huskily, I 'Pm going away-away, Bennie. If j I ever get to be a man again 111 como I back. Tell-your mother what I sa; Aud don't you ever, ii* you die firs Bennie, touch a drop of liquor. Ru across, now, and ask Mrs. Brown i come over-to see-.' And whe Ben, crying bitterly, had performe the crraud to the best of bis small abi! ity, his father had disappeared ; an from that day forth Rufus Ballard wi seen no more in Paynville, nor di any word come from him to one litth lonely, waiting heart. Scarcely three months later Ben mother died-of consumption, the do( tor said ; of a broken heart, said th neighbors. At her death, good Mri Brown took the boy and was very kin to him until she too, went to her lou; rest. And then Ben fell into the hand of Deacon Josiah Wilson. They wer not particularly t;nder hands ; thougt to do the Deacon justice, he endeavorc to perform his duty to his charge con scientiously. His trouble was onl that in his composition duty wa syouymous with discipline, aud that c the most rigorous description. So th life of this poor little bound boy was har( in the extreme, and pitifully devoid of al simple, childish pleasures. It wa just after prayers that morning tha Ben had proffered a timid request standing as he spoke with fiushet cheeks and downcast eyes. 'Deacon Wilson, can't I-oh, if yoi piesse, sir, Eben Beals says that if yot -if I will come over and help him afte I get my chores done nights-he may-he will give me his old skates ii pay. He's got-a new-pair.* Poor little Ben ! How the color cami and went in his thin face, and hov painfully hard his heart thumped be hind his checked blouse. Thc Deacon' sharp gray eyes were upon him. .Trash !' ejaculated the Deacon shortly .What do you want to do with skates ? -'.I'll skate,* cried Ben eagerly brigteniog with a new hope. '? learn? ed last Winter at recess timi and noons on Mr. Kane's duck pond sir.' Deacon Wilson's next words dissip?t ed all expectation of good to come, how? ever ; and tho clouds swept acros? Ben's sky again, darker than ever. 'You might have been better employed [ don't send you to school to cut ur. any such didos. You can't help the Beals boy, an' you can't have th? skates. Give 'em back quick as you're a mind to.' It was of all this Ben was thinking as he stood with half angry, tearful face by the Deacon's woodpile, where I have left him an unconscionable length of time. His tears fell thicker and fas? ter with the gathering shadows of night, and he dropped his axe at last with a little bitttr cry.-'It's no use to try,' he said. 'O father ! 0 father, why dou't you come !'-With a sud? den thought he fell upon bis knees be? side the log, and clasped his bands be? fore him.-'Oh, God, please bring my father back to me. 'Oh, please dear God. And this I ask for Jesus sake. Amen ' From the doorway at that moment sounded the deacon's incisive voice : 'Come in to supper, Benjamin. You'll wear the knees o' your pantaloons all out, getting down on them that way. Come right io,'-?-And at the supper table he eyed Ben's flushed face sharp? ly.-'Lemme see,' he said, taking a meditative sip of tea ; 'it's nigh onto ten years since your father went off, ain't it ?'-'Yes, sir,' said Ben, faintly.-'Well,' said the deacon, not altogether unkindly, 'tain'ta good plan for ye to be pleasing yourself up with the notion that he will be back. It dou't stand to reason he will. And you're best shet of him, Benjamin-best shet of bim.' Ben did not reply ; his heart was ful 1 and there was a painful lump in his throat. Just as long as he lived he would cling to the faith, which had been his mother's also, that his father was alive aud well, aud would one day come back to him a man among meu once mere. Every night before be went to rest he prayed for this, in his own humble way. On this particular night, he crept up to his little attic room, and prayed again as it seemed to him he had never prayed before ; and then he weut to bed and soon fell into the deep, healthy slumber which is one of the blessings of youth. He could not tell how long he had slept, when he awoke suddenly. The room was bright as day, and there was a dreadful glare through the window, which faced the west and the river. What could it be ? Ben sprang out of bed and to the window with a fear tugging at his heart. It needed but a single glance to tell him the truth. It's the railroad bridge !' he scream? ed aloud in his excitement. 'The rail? road bridge is afire!' He scrambled into his clothes trembling with cold and fear, and flung himself out of his room and down the stairs, hardly taking a thought as to what he could do. The key of the church hung under the clock in the sitting-room-for the Deacon held the office of sexton as well. Ile sped aloug, and wheu he came to the church his hand shook so that he cuuld scarcely unlock the door. The bell rope hung in thc vestibule like a huge, coiling serpent. The buy seized it in both his hands and flung his whole slight weight upon it. Back and forth he swayed with the swaying of the rope, clinging like a squirrel to it, tugging at it in frantic desperation. His bare hands \^re cut aud blistered, but ho did not mind the pain. It seemed hours to the frightened, panting boy, before thc deep toned bell above an? swered his summons; but it came at last, breaking through thc frosty quie? tude of the night. Clang, clang ! clang! "Fire! fire! fire!'' thc d'ep, rolling tones cried to the sleeping vil? lage. Clang, clang ! Clang, clang ! In an incredibly short space of time the town was astir. Men raced past the church, their voiees echoing tho cry of fire "Fire !" Ben slipped out, leaving thc key still in tho door, and hurried away to the river with the rest There was a great deal of excitement, of shouting, of running to and fro; but it was soon quite evident that nothing could be done to save the bridge "It's bound to go," remarked Captain Winter, a stout, jolly-faced man. He had been first on the scene, as he was usually first wherever quickness nf thought aud action '7as required. "It's J just what I know'd would happen wbcr they built the confounded thing." Foi the railroad was a recent institution, and one that Captain Thomas Wintei had stoutly opposed from the first. Il had made Paynville its terminus bu! for a short time and then stretched ofi and away again, leaving thc sleepy little place all the more sleepy by comparison with the life that daily throbbed along its iron track. Seldom now, unless for a passenger, did the daily train, up or down, stop at the small, deserted station which was quite beyond the village itself, and out of sight of the bridge. "Anyhow, it's lucky the fire was dis? covered in season to stop the train," said the captain, squinting funnily with the red light of the fire in his eyes. "Who did it? Who rang the bell?" No one could tell that, however, unless, indeed, it were the boy who, altogether unthought of, shrank bashfully into the friendly shadow of the little group. The Deacon might, perhaps, have con? jectured rightly, but he had not made his appearance. * 'He did a good thing whoever he is," pursued Captain Wiuter calmly, and quite with the air of one who feels that he has done all that can possibly be required. "? have sent my man on horse-back to the bridge at Dominique at the first alarm. It's eight miles there, and four more across to the sta? tion ; but he'll make it easy in an hour and a half, and stop the train at Hooley's. It isn't due here till two o'clock, and 'Old Time'said 'mid-night' just as John started." 4'Old Time" was the town clock, on whose ancient face a quaint represen? tation of "Time" with his scythe, could still be traced. It was Old Time indeed, since Aunt Sally Bascom, her? self almost a centenarian, could barely remember when it had not occupied its position in the belfry of the old town house. As Captain Winter finished speaking, a sudden recollection flashed across Ben's mind, and a horrible icy fear clutched his heart. For an instant he stood as if turned to stone; but it was only an instant. ''Ob, Captain Winter," he cried, springing forward aud catching the captain's sleeve, "the-the old clock doesn't strike right! I know it doesn't; it only struck five when it was six, to-night, and Deacon Wilson said it must be out of kilter and would have to be seen to "-Captain Wiuter looked at his watch, as it had not occurred to him to do before. He shut it again without a word. His face looked drawn, aud fairly gray in the wavering light.-"Men !" he said sharply, "the train for Princeton is due here in exactly twenty-four minutes. Do you understand ?" Did they understand? They stood with blanching faces and hard-drawn breaths gazing dumbly into each other's eyes-those strong men, so helpless now in their strength ! The little horror-stricken group wa9 momently augmented by fresh arrivals, and there was no one among them all but took in at once the whole dreadful truth. Be? yond the ruined bridge the track was in view but for a little distance ; it made a sharp curve to the left, then, and lay for two miles through a swampy forest. Aud so surely a3 the train rounded the curve at full speed, so surely it paust be hurled with its livicg freight into the cold, black waters of the river. 'I teil you, Judge Stanhope and his wife, and his daughter are expected home to-night on that miserable one horse train !' cried Captain Winter, with great energy. Til give anybody 35OO to cross the river ! I'd go myself, ! but' with a contemptuous glance down at his own rotund person, 'I couldn't get a yard out. Do somethiug, for j God's sake ! I believe in my heart j you're all cowards!'-'Take that back, Captain Winter,' uttered a voice j that was husky and shaking. 'We're no cowards. You kuow yourself that the ice won't bear half the weight of a man. It only begun to freeze night afore this.' Thc captain groaned aloud. Judge Stanhope's wife was his own sister. 'Try it!' he cried hoarsely. TH give you every cent Fm worth just to make the attempt! We can't stand here like a pack of idiots, aud watch them come on to death !' Well, I eau not describe to you the j terrible excitement of that time. Men I ran herc and there as if completely be- j reft cf sense, each with some separate, j impracticable project, and hurried off j for ropes and rails and boards and j boats,-old leaky bateaux that had j long since outlived their usefulness, j And in the midst of it all, a figure ap- j peared at the river's edge at some dis? tance below thc burning bridge,-a thin, boyish figure, with a face all flush? ed with haste, and blue eyes that were dark and wide with fear. It was poor little Ben Ballard. Thc good old cap? tain's revelation concerning Jud^e Stanhope and his family had given ! shape to the vague, wild idea that had all the time bceu floating in the boy's j brain. Pretty, gentle, Lida Stanhope j was his teacher in Sabbat!? school. She ! had always been tenderly kind to the worse than orphaned boy. Ben 'loved j her for it, and would die to save her. That was what he said to himself as he sped, panting, up to the place called j home, and back again to the sceue of ? disaster, with a pair of wretchedly old j skates in one hand, and thc deacon's 1 lautem, which lie had actually snatched from the grasp of the astonished owner, ; in the other. Captain Wiuter was the j first to espy him, and he straightway 1 hastened down the low, steep bank, j Beti had the dilapidated skates already ? on his, feet tied as securely as might be with bits of rope yarn, and he rose as j the Captain came half slidiug down to where he stood. i Captain Winter laid a hand on his : shoulder. 'Ben-is it thc deacon's ? boy V he said, huskily. 'Child, you : can't cross the river !'-'Oh, let mc i try!' cried Ben. His nerves were strung to the highest pitch, his heart seemed all on fire. 'I can skate, and I'm little and awful light; and-and if | 1 don't get over, sir, it's uo loss.' 'But my boy-' Hark ! Was not that a distant, thun? derous rumble? A horrible groan sounded from the bank above, where Deacon Wilson had at that moment j arrived, red with unwonted exercise, i and wrathful at the loss of his l?utern. His vexation vau:sbed suddenly, how? ever. He reverently bared his head, and fell upon his knees. 'Let us pray,' he uttered, cbokinglv. And there are 7 O mt those who declare that never before or after, in church or private assembly, was Deacon Wilson heard to pray as he prayed that night. In truth, it was an extremely peril? ous, though short journey, that Ben was undertaking. It was only his light weight and swift movements that gave him safety. The ice bent fearfully beneath his quiet steady strokes, and once or twice he cut through to the water. A puff of wind caught his hat from his head, but he dared not stop to recover it ; and even in his excitement, he won? dered, with a little feeling of dread, what Deacon Wilson would say to the loss. Nearly over, ouc of the skates loosened suddenly and he stumbled and the thin ice broke beneath him. But the water was scarcely waist-deep there, and his footing sure; and so he strug? gled bravely out and gained the bank, holding h's lantern above his head all che while. A wild, hoarse shout reached his ears from the shore bc had left. He pulled his worn boots from his f_et-it was the quickest and easiest method of taking off his skates and then he sped away up the track. The night was bitterly chill and bis clothes were freezing around him, but he did not feel the cold. On, he went flying from sleeper to sleeper like a small terrified 2>Icrcury, hearing each instant the rumble of a coming train growing more distinct. On, till the curve was reached a?d passed; on, till into the shawdow of the forest. The train was coming, surely. Away, far away to the south, appeared, a tiuy fiery eye. Larger it grew, and larger, and still Ben ran on panting now with a dreadful weariness, his throat parched and barning, his eyes almost startiog from their sockets, swinging his lautem as he ran. On came the train to meet him, thundering over its iron road. It was late as it often was, and there would be no slacking of speed at the bridge. In an instant of time the great headlight of the locomotive was glowering upon the boy. With a terrified shriek, with a last despairing effort, he sprang aside, and as he did so he flung his lantern, with all the force he could muster, straight at the window of the cab. And then he flung himself, with a shivering, disheartened cry, face downward upon the ground. Toe train stopped not more than a hundred yard* from destruction, amid echoing cheers from the further shore, where Capt. Wiuter was sobbing aloud and wringing the Deacon's hand, io an excess of joy ; aud then it ran slow? ly back. Many of the passengers crowded out to discover the cause of the stoppage, and those who remained were asking eager questions and get? ting no replies. Pretty Lida Stanhope sat with her mother in thc warm, light ed car ; and immediately behind them was a man, well-dressed, whose dark hair was sprinkled with silver, who kept his face resolutely turned to the window. He had not left the car ; he asked no questions. Judge Stanhope entered presently. 'We shall not probably get home to? night,' he said, and his voice shook sadly in spite of his effort to steady it. 'The bridge is burned. Some brave fellow, G nd bless him, warned thc train ; but how-' There was a bustle about thc crowd? ed door at thai minute, and au authori? tative voice interrupted the Judge. 'Take him right in, boys : Make way, there; we can't get a drop of brandy down his throat, and he's almost frozen to death.' Lida Stanhope sprang np with an eager cry, as the stout brakeman push? ed his way through the door with his burden, a boy, bare-headed, shoeless, and white and chilled, but smiling brightly as he caught sight of the Judge's daughter. 'Why, mamma, mamma-it's Dea? con Wilson's bound boy! Ifs little Ben Ballard.'-There was a sudden movement behind her, a low, sharp cry, whether of joy or pain Lida could never quite determine, aud then a ouick footstep up the car.-It's my boy ! O, B en, my little Ben !' Thank God ! for Ben was in his fathers arms : at last, Rufus Ballard's tears were raining softly on the upturn? ed face of his boy-thc boy who re? membered, even iu his extremity, his father's parting iujunct:.on, never to touch a drop of the 'accursed stuff-thc boy whose courage aud devotion had been made by Providence to answer his own heart-broken, almost despair? ing cry In a Bad Fix. Williamsburg Tattler. About three weeks ago, two of our young men, H. F. Sherrell and C. A. Drum, 18 years old, sous of II. B. Sherrel and W. A. Drum, concluded to emigrate to Texas to better their condi? tion. Not having the means within themselves to carry them through, they secretly too!; a young mule belonging to W. A. Drum and sold it. to a farmer in Catawba county and started at once for Dallas, Texas. They were not heard of until a few days ago, when a letter was received from each asking his father to send him money to come home on. Yesterday another very urgent letter was received. The fol? lowing is an exact copy. DALLAS, T:;XAS, Aug. 7, 18S4. DEAR FATHER-It is with great pleasure to live to write to you again in this world. God bless sister Sallie, God bless all my kiufolks on this earth. God bless every body. (.Jod fix a way for dear father to get money to bring me home. God lix a way for the mou ey to get here as quick as possible Pa do for God's sake and for uiy sake send mc?,50 or ?6 (J to come home on. if you hain't sent it when this letter gets there, do .start it. Don't put it iu Hendrick P. 0. hut fur my sake bring it to Catawba Station and start it. Just start it as quick as you can iu this world if you ever want to sec this sinful boy any moro iu this world. Do for tuc one time, and I will do for you for? ever. Lord, Pa, you surely can't keep from sending me the money to come home ou. For Jesus sake scud me thc mouey. Lord do Pa do. Dear father I cau't live hero much longer the way I lam now. Pa, if you hain't got the money, get it from Grandpa Mock, Jim Hendrick, Hose Stewart, Tom Stewart, or somebody. Lord Pa, do send it as quick as you can for I had another chill when I was writing this letter. I went to the doctor and he charged me with ?5 and I could not pay him, 70U know I hain't got a cent of money in this world. Pa do send me ?50 or 90 to come home on, if you want to see your only son any more. Dear slater try to fix a way for me to come home if you want to see your only brother any more in this world. God bless my dear sister, God bless my dear father, God bless everybody. Pa and sister if you ever do anything for any? body, you surely will do for your only son and brother. If you hain't sent it when this letter gets there do fetch it to Catawba Station just right off. Do, O do. Goodbye, father, goodbye sister. Lord, pa do what I said. C. A. DRUM. What Our Editors Say. The Black Flag Unfurled. Orangeburg Times and Democrat. The nomination by the Radicals of a State ticket is fair warning to the Democrats that the old plunderers of the people will make one more effort to gain control of the State. We all re? member the dark days of Radical rule and none of us wish to see them return. This ticket must be defeated and this can be doue ou ly-by the white people of the State sticking together, and acting as one mao. We have too much at stake to let little differences divide us, and make the defeat of our ticket prob? able. The National outlook is very hopeful, aud everything seems to point to the triumph of the Democrats all over the Union. Let this inspire us to renewed exertion to keep South Care lina in the column of those States that will sustain the grand and glorious cause of Democracy in November. The Black Flag has been unfurled by cur opponents, and should they succeed it would be almost impossible for a white man to live io South Carolina. Let us be up and doing, and give the Radicals such a rout in the next electiou that that will never lift their heads in South Carolina again. Democratic Duty. Florence Times. In view of the recent Republican convention held iu Columbia, it be? hooves every Democrat to use his utmost eudeavors to give the Republi? cans as crushing defeat as possible io November. Republicanism means nothing more nor less than anarchy, corruption and fraud in South Carolina. Kow disgusting to lovers of freedom and enlightenment must be the ele? ments of that party which brooded like a dark cloud over our State only a short time ago. Democracy was the Saviour of our State, and the principles that underlie the Democratic party should be as dear to our people as their hearths and bornes. Everything that tends to obstruct those principles should be sternly discountenanced. Green backism, Indepeodentism and Republi? canism are one and the same thing. A person that does not affiliate with the Democracy, and professes to be an In? dependent, is on the same footing with a Republican, and deserves to have the same amount of contumely cast on his character. An Independent, and we have an excellent definition of the term in the character of J. Hendrix MeLane, is one that lacks sufficient courage to sail under bis true colors while professing one thing, he means another; pretending to be an Indepen? dent, he is at heart the meanest sort of Radical. Let all such obstruction? ists of good government and political hypocrites be held in utter detestation and contempt. A Sensation at Port Boyal. News and Courier. BEAUFORT, September 30.-Thc quiet monotony of the towu of Port Royal was broken a few days ago by the ar? rival of a stranger by the name of Joseph A. Piatt accompanied by a lady by the name of Flynn, who invested to the amount of two or three thousand dollars in real estate in the town and vicinity. One of the purchases was for a tract of land on Paris Islaud, with a frontage ou the harbor in the neighborhood of thc projected naval station Several town lots were secur? ed, and it is reported that an extensive factory is to spring up under the wand of these mysterious strangers, who are reported to be pioneers for a colony of Northern settlers, and who may con? vert the drowsy burg into a busy man? ufacturing town. All sorts of specu? lations are rife as to what is up, as no indications were given of thc future in? tentions of the visitors, who paid cash for all they bought before they depart? ed, So quietly and unobtrusively did they conduct their transactions that they secured some very prospectively valu ble lots before the hitherto active Mr. Hall, real estate agent of D. F. Apple? ton, who holds thc bulk of thc city property for speculative advances, ."could frustrate them or was even aware of thc transfers. So promptly were the bargains closed after thc prices were named that the most casual observer might have imagined that cither an earthquake or a boom was imminent, and there is no wonder that several backed out before the final signing, sealing aud delivering .of their titles. All reai estate owuers in town are hap? py except those who have prematurely parted with their property before high tide, and who now apprehend that they may uot only have killed but cooked their goose. Mr. Piatt hails from Lavonic Station, Livingston County, New York, and is said to be a brother of Don Piatt. The lady is from Rochester. N. Y., and both are said to be heavy capitalists. - -i - . Two ladies moving in tho highest circles of Washington society, during a friendly meeting on the street, got to quarreling about their age, and used very strong language toward each other. At last, as if to end the dispute, one of them turtled away, and ^said in .1 very conciliatory tone of voice: "Let us not quarrel over thc matter any more. I, at least, have not the heart to do it. L never knew who my mother was; sho deserted me when a baby, and who knows but that you may havo boon the heartless parent?" /_ BILL ?RP. Visits Charleston and Looks Upon Historio Fort Sumter. I write you from the city of j Charleston-the city by the sea. I am now looking afar off upon the die tant waves, afar towards Fort Sum- j ter, the historic place where the war began. I wa? ruminating about that j small beginning of a sad and terrible j conflict. That feeble cannonading j that hardly shook the land and did I not disturb that calm and peaceful sea, but it quivered the heart of a great nation, and was the shock that I smothered peace and sounded the call ? of battle and of death. I wish I lived J by the sea, not all the time, for 1 love j our hills and mountains dearly, but I ; would like to have a home down here where I could bring the good wife ! and children and let them feast upon I new scenes and look with rapture and i with wonder upon the mighty ocean, j How calm, how peaceful when at I rest, how terrible in the 6torm. I j believe such things enlarge us and j make us better. They dignify the ! great creator and fill us with awe and j make us conscious of our own humil- J ity. While sitting now upon the wharf j watching the ?cstless jwaters I canot j wonder at the emotion of Lord Byron j when he wrote that sublime and beautiful verse "Rull on thou deco and dark blue Ocean, j roll.''" There is surely something in nature that moulds a man to her image. Not all men but most men. They say that blood will tel!, but blood is not all. Blooded stock, whether of man or beast will not keep up on the j piney woods, lt will degenerate, we can almost tell where men came from by looking at them and talking to them. The mountains produce a shifty, thrifty active people, alway? in a hurry. The plains produce a quiet slow moving, dignified popula? tion, who love their ease and care for their comfort and take time to enter? tain their friends. If a Charleston man or a Savannah man is not digni? fied and courteous he is nothing. If an east Tennessean is not sharp and close and calculating he is nothing. And so between the seacoast and the mountains we find all grades and all mixtures. 1 have just visited three pleasant villages in South Carolina and mingled with their people and enjoyed them, for they are in no hurry to get through life, and content with their lot. I never saw a mer? chant hunting for trade. I never saw one like Jot Camp, of Rome, taking the streets to induce custom, and working and toiling for business. That ia all right and I admire him and his diligence, but I cant help noting the difference. Then there is Patillo, of Carterville, I've watched him as a typical mau, a genuine north Georgian, as restless as the troubled j ' sea, working all the time and watch- ] ing for opportunities. Ele buys at a ven- j | ture and sells on sight and uses the j bank and duns his customers and deals 1 in anything that offers a dollar of prof-1 ' it. Atlanta is that same way, for At- j ; lan?a is made up of north Georgians. | j Most all their successful men came from there, and they are smart and their , motto is "Push along, keep moving." lt was the bracing, nervous air of: the mountains that made Moore and j Marsh and Kiser and Rhode Hill and ! i Wyley and Wy ly and Peters and I < Dougherty and many others. Evan i i Howell has raountian stock in him, . and so has Hemphill and Grady and that is why they succeed. They are . tho stock that will climb up and suc? ceed without capital or friends. j : Nothing can keep them down. A ? Macon man will succeed in Macon i but he would hardly succeed in At- i lanta, unless he had a good backing and some special advantages. Some Charleston meu who moved to Atlan? ta have succeeded, but they had abundant capital and got north Geor? gia boys to help them. There is a j wide difference betweeu Macon and j Atlanta in their methods of business, i The Atlanta men walk faster, talk faster and chew more tobacco and j give more bank notes, and dun hard- ? er and brag eternally on Atlanta ; Well, that is all right. That is busi- j ness, and that is what makes A tlanta. j Why, a man can break all to pieces j in Atlanta and rise again in two j months and smile serenely. Venerable Charleston I I have not j been here for 30 years. When I was I a merchant 1 used to trade here, j Twice a 3'ear 1 made my pilgrimage j here and bought my goods, and now . it makes me sad to wander around in j search of the c* 1 familiar places and j find new signs. 1 saw one hanging on a ? wall ; it was corroding from the iron j hand of time, but it was there-the | same old sign, "Hyatt McBurney & j Co." But they were not there, and j no succession. The sign was all. j Happily I found one, but only or.e I old friend, Mr McGahau, the honest j Scotchman, now of Edwin Bates & Co., and the head of the house. Ile j is the only one left of the old stock, i I used to deal with, a noble gentle? man of the pure Charleston type. . His house has a blanch in Atlanta which shows his business sagacity. I Sitting down by him, I asked many ; questions and the answer was dead, j dead-out of business-moved away. Evan Vanderzee, the last survivor of Wiley, Banks & Co., is thumping flies j in Ne tv York, and has passed his \ three score and ten. Van was the j best merchant I ever knew except ! Mr. Norton, of Rome and he couldn't ; talk to you a minute without thump- j ing a fly from .your clothes, or catch-, ing him as he flew. Ile was the best ' catch on the fly 1 ever 6aw, and he is j at it yet. But those time-honored ; names of honorable men-names that i I respected, for they did business on j honorable principles, and they were i the pride of Charleston-where are they ? There were the Bowies, and Gillilands, and Fleming, and Dunham, I and Dem ing, Thayer & Co., and ! Chamberlain, Meier & Co., and Mc- j Kenzie, Cadow & Co., and Clark, Hyde' & Co , and Stoddard, and j Courtenay, Tennant and Co., and I j don't know how many more I used to ' trade with. Well they are all gone, ' I or out or dead-and il ts only thirty years since they were in their glory. And so we all pass away soon, and be no more remembered titan Bather*' ford B Hayes. But I did meet Mr. Courtenay, and he is well and wei! preserved, and is the president of a bank, and is honored by that people, His brother is the mayor of Charles? ton, and is worthy of the honor Iiis people have shown him. I reverence these old classic names for they are classic. There is something, in a name. There's nothing in mine, I know, but whenever I meet with a Calhoun or a Lamar or Cobb or Lowndes or Rutledge or Bowie or Courtenay or Pickens or such like, ? naturally expect somethiug of tue man, and if he is neither good cr great, all I can say is that he is gone back on his ancestors, which he oughtent to have done. Well, I love Charleston, My dear mother was born here-my bes? earthty friend except my wife-my dear old mother, who still loves to bless me and pray for me, and who," if she had the privilege, would for? give all my sins. For her sake I rev? erence this place, and if I could know the spot, the sacred spot that gaye her birth, I would go to it like the! pilgrims went to Mecca. But, alas f I do not know, ?he does not know,* for she was hurried away during a pestilence, when father and mother were but a day in their graves.. , These memories are sweet, and tender, and refining. I wandered along the streets in Augusta the other day, looking for names, familiar names, but 1 did not fiud them, The}', too, are dead or retired, and there is a new set of merchants andi lawyers. But I was not lost or for? gotten, for as time has rolled on I have made new friends, and 1 love them. 1 fouud John H. Davidson lhere a genial gentleman, of whom his people are proud, and ought to be. And then I met that lovable man, My Maryland Randall, whose name is familiar to every household/ aud whose welcome comes from Ibo heart as well as the hand. And that sterling, solid son of Erin, Pat Walsh, whom the people of Georgia delight to honor, and will yet honor. I love this good old Georgia city for its happy memories, and especially be? cause Mrs. Arp was educated there, and her education was solid-solid as a rock-and she eau do a sum now in her head quicker than I can on ? slate, and is as sure in figures as au almanac. 1 was taken sick in Charles? ton once, at the Pavilion hotel, when old Mr. Butterfield was the proprietor,' and I thought I had the yellow fever and was going to die. So I ran away with the fever on me, for I wautcd to die at home, and I re?cbed? home and for two months I was at the door of death, and living 1 did languish, and languishing did live; and one day a sweet, pretty girl with beautiful hazel eyes and raven hair/ came to see me and brought nie some flowers, and as I looked in her soft, sympathetic face I rallied and determined to get weil. And I did. And I'm well yet, and so is ?he, aud her children are mine and mine are hers. BILL ARP. "Bury the Solid South With a Bloody-Shirt Shroud." The following is an extract from a report in the Detroit Post and Tribune >f a Blaine and Logan ratification meet? ing held in Detroit, Michigan, several weeks ago. The first speaker Rev. F. A. Blades gave vent to the following Findictive and unpatriotic sentiments : 'Thc question before thc country/ said he. *is whether the Republican party shall be continued in power, or the Democratic party admitted to the control of national affairs. To my mind there is one serious objectiou to' the latter course. The Democratic party is not a national party. By all its traditions and acts it is ~a sectional party. In none of its recent platforms' has it receded from any of its old States rights doctrines. Its history is the history of sectionalism. When the slave power was the demiant power, the Democratic party was always obe? dient to it, and when Stephen A. Douglass attempted to broaden the" party it became divided, and Lincoln* was elected. TJtey say that ice must not raise thc question of war, but I pro* test that the Voody-shirt should not be buried until thc solid Soidh is buried. [Applause.] If the Democrats insiat on bringing forward the solid South, they should le made to smell the Uoody shirt. The Democratic party is not broad enough to take in the whole country. Has it ever stood by ji meas? ure that contemplated the good of the whole country ? Has it not always sea? soned its political measures with South? ern salt ? If there ever was a time that the saying of the prophet that men shall glory in their shame is true, it is the present time, and the instance I. wou?d cite is the Democratic party glorying in thc solid South.7 The Abbeville Medium in comment in sr cn the above says : Do our people wish any more evi? dence of the unrelenting hatred of tho Republican party in the North ? When a preacher gives utterance to any such vindictive language, how intense musi be the hatred ? those who are not ac? quainted with the teachings ot the Scriptures ? Many of the ablest men in that par-', ty have abandoned it and given their support to Cleveland and Hendricks. They were tired of living on the ani? mosities and resentments of the past. But this preacher fires the hearts ?- of his hearers with thc words of passion and hostility. It is the duty of every. Carolinian to stand by their friends of the North and drive the party of hate from power and iufluence. "Vcl4 Meesder Lautenschlager, I see in der napers ? t der guvvinment vas. goinff to eif ox; t wo per tsent bond." "Yaw, I Vas hearin1 myselluff of dot. Vas you going to dake some of dose bonds, Meesder Levi?" "Veil, Isposen myselluff 1 got to dake in some coi dem, but I told you seedings,. Mr.' Lautcnscblager." "Vas is das?" "Veil, I hearin* dot dis guvvinment cot so much money dot in a leedle Yh?e dey issuo a bond and sharge you two per tsent for der brivilege of paying it?*-*' ' San Francisco Post, _ A . ? _ .