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* * S5B5 ate riltares TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. 0.. JANUARY 9. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1847 ITP T|IK I.AKK. It U dark, and uooi and aliady Up the lane. And there goea a Hi tie lady Up the lane, On the grasa the dew la aparkltng. Though the night the grass Is darkTUng, and the summer moon is rising— “ Time t > go,” it U advUing, “ Up the lane.” For the moonrlae was the token. Up the laue, That fond words were to he spokeu Up the lane, So the little lady hurries— Far off dee all cares and worries. And oer pretty face la noshing, As she hears awift footsteps rushing Up tue lane. Night moths at the flowers are sipping, Up the lane, Hivifi and aweet tue noun are slipping Up the lane, Trees, majestic a tadowa flinging, Fireflies dancing, crickets singing. And whits moon lght sifting over Happy maid and happy lorer, Up the lane. 1 UTS TEMPTATION. It was getting on towards dusk, and Tim Drake, with his blacking-box swung over his shoulder, stood on the corner of Oourtland Sfreet and Broadway, eagerly watching the passers-by, and shouting almost continually, '‘Shine, air—shine?” while at the same time he pointed down at the shoes of those gentlemen that Tun thought needed that attention. Mr. Bobert Montague, banker of No. —Wall Street was on his way to the elevated station at Oourtland Street, to )>e carried to his elegant residence in one of the fashionable streets up town, when upon reaching the corner he met Tim, who Instantly rushed forward, uid, pointing down to Mr. Montague’s rather muddy olotn top shoes, again shouted the repeated cry, “Shine, sir? Have a shine?" The banker paused before the boy, glancing down at his own feet, and then at the bright eyes and dirty taco of the bootblack, who had already sunk upon his knees and was prepare • for work, , •‘Well,” he said finally, “yon can shine them if yon’ll hurry about it. ” Tim did not wait for a second iuvita- t iou, but, turning up the bottom of his customer’s pants, so as not to soil them with his blacking, he went straight to ins task. It was not long before the job was hnished, and jumping up from the gipund, Tim stood waiting tor*** T. Glitnu ilo i/Uw alls a*£Ia A mto - S lad shouted himself hoarse to no pur pose. It was ill. MCuiaguo pi** trousers pocket, and drew out a handful y,i coins. Selecting three he dropped them into the outstretched palm of the bootblack, saying as he did so: A three and two pennies; that’s right, isn’t it?” “Yes, sir, that’s correct, replied Tim, as his late customer harried.away, “I think IT1 buy little Jack an orange with that five,” said Tim to himself as he walked over to a stand on the oppo site side of the way; for Tim had a little cripple brother, Jack, the only relation he knew of iu the world; and often, after a hard day's work, when he made his way up town to the small room of the tenement which he called home, he carried some small delicacy to this little boy, though he sometimes had to scrimp hiunelf to do it. While Tim was away down town, little Jack empleyed himself with i box of cheep paiuts that Tim had pro . cured for him to make the weary hours pass more quickly. Tim selected the orange that he thought looked most juicy and inviting, then taking the three coins from ^ month, where he had deposited * ueia « glancing at them as one mw** lo ® k •* very casual acquaiuta^ be * ore let cold and windy that night, and when Tim figured up his day’s profits, he found that he iiad made scarcely more than half of the previous day’s earnings. Patting his hand into that inner pocket, he drew out the gold piece and gazed at it enviously. “I can’t stand it any longer,” he mattered, “I mast spend it. Little Jaoks paint-box is all worn ont, and I’d reckoned on buying him a new one to-day.” “It would be such a surprise to him, poor little chap,” “I’ll get it up-iowu, though, ' he added. “Paint-boxes is cheaper np there.” So, restoring the gold-piece once more to his pocket, and buttoning up his coat, he walked on. Before long he hail reached the same ooraor where he had blacked the gen tleman’s boots. Looking down towards the elevated station he stopped in his walk. “It’s awfully windy a-walking way np home to night,” he said, '*and I’ve half a mind to go np in the tram.” “If I’m going to spend the gold piece 1 can afford it for once.” Turning down the street he was soon at the station, and just in time to catch an np-going train. The oars were very crowded, and Tim had to stand np by the door. Looking forward, whom should he see, also standing, but the gentleman who had given him the gold piece. Tim started. Here was a chance to return the money. Should he give it back to the gentleman, or should he get out of the train at the next station and keep it? If he kept it he could get little Jack the paint-box, and have quite a balance over. He could almost see the glad face of bis little brother as he would hand him the box. Then, on the other hand, if he re turned it, ten to one he would reoeiye small thanks for it; and what with the slim profits of the day’s work, he would have hardly enough money to bay little Jack’s and his own frngal sapper. The train just now ran into a station, tiie gate trail shouted the name of the street, and the can came to a standstill. q»s. r -a.. r i*—s —— —— about to leave the out u he hurried from the oar and down the steps with a lighter parse than before, bat with a lighter heart because he had overcome his temptation. Tim called on the morrow at Mr. Montague’s, and was given a place a the banker’s office, where by hard work he will no doubt rise until some day he may himself mistake gold pieoes for pennies. Leaps For Liberty. A Leap tor LI bony. the oil lamp that lit them go, In the glare up the ha 8aw ton one of the eoias w taken for a cent waa not ( ^at at alL * “By kooky!” he exclaimed, opening his month wide in astonishment. If that ’eri' gent didn’t go and make a mistake; why, one of these cents ain’t a cent—it’s a two dollar and a half gold piece!” A thousand different thoughts flashed through the bootblack's mind as to what he should do with the money. 'What a lot of things it would buy him! He could get little Jack a bigger box of painta and even a drawing book, too. But then a small voice within him whispered; “It doesn’t belong to you, and you have no right to it.” Then stul another voice said: “Yes, have, too, lot how do jou know when, turning to ; alanoe at the banker, he noticed or the first ttiuc z ^miliar fltmre stand ing near that gentleman. Jimmy!” he muttered under his breath, “if there ain’t ‘Sly Sam.’ ” “A young pickpocket like him, whose been to Blackwell’s Island as often as he has, don’t mean no good in a crowd like this “He will bear watching, he wUL “Sly Sam," as he was called, moved closer to the gentleman, who was read ing an evening paper. Tim, between the desire to get away with the money and the desire to pre vent a robbery, did not know what to do. While he lingered the train went on again. As It turned the curve into Murray Street, Tim saw the thief’s hand slide into the banker’s vest pocket. “He’s going to do it," said Tim to himself iu great excitement, “and I’d be doing it, too, if I went off witb.the money’- ’’ • Tnere’d be two of us then.” 'i’ll spoil his game, though,” and springing forward, he caught the bank er’s sleeve with one hand and the thief with the other. “Say, mister,” he shouted, “this here feller is a trying to hook your watch.” Tim’s words created a good deal of confusion, and people felt instinotively in their watch pockets. Some of the passengers seised “Sly Sam,” while he himself, frightened and Very pale, tried effectually to prove his innoodkoe by throwing the guilt upon Tim, At the next station the pickpocket was tftken in charge by a policeman and subsequently was given the oppor tunity to board, at the public's ex pence, at that favorite resort of charac ters of his type, Blackwell’s Island. A writer from Athens, Ueorgia, says wc saw Joe Thurmond and he told us all about his escape from the Clarke county Court House, bis flight to Canada and his return when pardoned by Governor Colquitt It ii a ihriihog chapter. Bald Thurmond: “I had no idea of attempting an escape when I was carried from the jail to the court house, but had determined to die sooner than go to the penitentiary. Bat while sitting in my chair in Judge Jack son’s office a sudden desire seized me to make the attempt and without stopping to consider for a moment or count the prob able cost I made a bolt for the window, but some one caught my foot just as I was anout passing through that caused me to fall on my head and receive a fearful shock. 1 then rushed for my horse, expecting each instant to be shot down in my tracks, but I intended to die rather than surren der. One of Browning’s bullets grazed my leg and passing through the saddle- skirt and blanket entered the side of the nag 1 wa» riding. After getting beyond range of the balls I headed toward Brook lyn: but when about two miles out of town the horse began to give way unuer me, when I rode out in a pine thicket to see what was the matter. Upon removing the saddle 1 discovered the wound, and knew that the beast could not carry me further. I turned it loose and started for home on foot, and by a circuitous route had to travel fourteen miles before getting there. But my leaving my horse behind saved me from capture, as the officers thought I was still hid out in the thicket and so did not telegraph. 1 only remained home an hour-just long enough to get some money, bid my family good-bye and start for Lawreuceville, thirty miles distant. Taking my littu brother in the buggy we made the trip in just three boms, but it nearly killed the horse l was driving. I traveled at night, passing through Jug Tavern, and met several men on the road that I knew, but as 1 had my hat slouched over my face they did not recognize me, not even my uncle, whose bouse 1 passed. Just as I drove into lawrencevilie .the train was steamed up ready to leave and I got aboard. Had I been ten minutes later it would have left me. I met with an other stre&K of good luck when 1 got to Suwannee, the junction with the Air Line. ftteRtthiOiito a dark oomer remained thereuntil the regular train came along, which was Just ten minutes. -1 boarded the smoking-car. tb”t was forth natety unoccupied. When I got to Atlanta I did not wait for the tram to stop before I jumped off ana secreted myself near the Goattaniioga train, that the conductor told me would leave in ten minutes. I feared a telegram lad been sent ahead and was afraid to risk even buying a ticket, preferring to pay my tare to the conductor. I had no way to disguise myself, as I was cleanly shaved, and had to take ihe chances, Just as the Western and Atlantic train was moving I jumped aboard and soon left At lanta behind me. But I dreaded even stopping place, expecting to meet a tele grain. When Chattanooga was reached lor the first tune felt pretty safe, pushed on to my destination, Canada. A recaptured deserter from the United States Army, handcuffed and secured to an iron bed stead with a chain of thick, heavy links, made his escape out of the third story of the General Mounted Setvice Recruiting Rendezvous, at Twentieth and Market streets, Philadelphia, recently. The escape was made more wonderful from the fact ef the fugitive carrying with him a large part of the bed-stead, from which he was not able to disengage him self. He reached the ground in two leaps, one of fourteen and the other of twenty- two feet. Not the slightest trace of him has been found. The piece of the bed stead, which weighs about fourteen pounds, has not been recovered, and from present indications there Is ue Uhclihc .d of a clue to either being struck. Condy Royle is the name ef the daring fugitive. He is of Hibernian stock and his birthplace is said to have been in Ire land. He is twenty-two years old, five feet ten inches in height, and altogether well built, powerful and handsomely pro portioned. His relatives are divided in residence between Allentown and Phila delphia. On November 1 last he enlisted at tne recruiting station winch he has just left behind him. Altogether he seemed a desirable acquisition to the army, and in due course of lime would have been sent to St. Louis and thence turther West to fight the redskins. Fate conspired to favor the latter, however and on Novem ber 8 Royle, after dutltully serving his country lor a week, lost his military en thusiasm and disappeared from the bar- racKS. The young women in the neighbor hood had one soldier less to look at and the Department of War one more to look alter. Royle immediately went to Allen town, where he is well koown- The fact that he was a deserter was as notorious as his light complexioued tace and light eyes, and none ventured to give him up and earn the standing reward o' thirty dollars which la offered tor the ap prehension of escaped soldiers. Even the police of Allentown are said to have sym pathized With him and let him go un- arresled. He got so bold that he walked about as if he had never been a warrior. He accosted one of the Allentown detec tives and asked the loan of fifteen cents. The detective was just going to clap Royle on the shoulder and arrest him, but be re- Tbe Life of » Pilot. Wnen the confusion was over, and yon 1 bUV strain Wont* in Veuloe, ft to where the gentleman who gave youliveb?” . It was a puzzling question, and Tim oonolnded, after a minute’s thought, i hat whatever he would do by and by he would not spend it just now. So patting die gold piece into an inner pocket, and taking a nickel from among his oarnings of that day, he paid for the orange and walked briskly up town. A week passed, and Tun still had the gold piece. Ho had hong around the oomer of Oourtland Street every afternoon, half hoping and half fearing that he might see his customer, but the gentleman had not yet appeared. On this par Molar day Tim had ex* psdenoed veoy poor teak. It w«s a fine dayi people did uni seem te want their Mots blacked, and Tim the banker saw that his watoh waa safe and uninjured, he turned to find the boy who had saved it. He had not far to look, for Tim was already by his side, and, before Mr Montague had time to speak, the boot black oried out: “I .-ay, mister, you’re the geut whose boots I blaoked the other night; and yon gave me a two dollar’n a half gold piece instead of a cent “Hero it is,” and Tim handed it over. Mr. Montague was silent for some seconds, while he mechanically took the coin. “Well, my boy,” he said at length, kindly, “you’ve done me a service to night, and 1 won’t forget it. “Suppose you oall at my office, No,— Wall Street, to-morrow?” “Then I oan apeak with you. “Ask for Mr. Montague.” Tim said that he would, and touohing his hat left the banker to his paper. It was not long before the tsaio reached the Bleaker street station where he had to get out. his way through the crowd The little steamboats that now ply on the Grand Canal are the first things to arrest the traveler’s attention when he re visits Venice. Till now, arrival at Venice has always been something unique and fascinating. Mr. Russell, indeed, thought the fascination already gone when, instead of stealing up to the city in a gondola across the open lagoon, he was driven by steam, and could only see the noble land scape of approach as the engine slackened its rushing on the iron line. But common place people found a good deal to say on the other side; and the suddenness of the contrast, as one stepped out of the railway carriage into a boat to be rowed down the untrodden streets of the island city, per haps enhanced the charm and strengthened the impression, Lord Beaconsfleld was certainly right ra singling out the strange quiet of the canals as the particular quality which made Venice unlike all other places. But these “vapporetti dl Yeni zia”have changed the aspect of things. They have two courses—one from the railway station to the public gardens, the other from the Rialto to the Piazetta; and they run every ten or fifteen minutes, calling at several intermediate stations. For the first day or two they were not popular, and their enemies even began to hope with some confidence that they would die a natural death; but the Venetian public were se duced by the convenience of them, and now the boats are always well filled. Bo far, then, they must be admitted to hav justified their existence; but it is a pity that they do not bear then success more quietly. The captains seem to delight In fuming on the steam whistle as if they were children playing with a new toy, and the whistles themselves are certainly mi raclesof shrillness. Mr. Ruskin diversi tied the pages of one of the earlier chap ters of “Fore Clavigeta” by keeping count of tae number of whistles that proceeded from a steamer about to start for tbe Ltdo, and he counted seven during the writing of one page, when he gave up his writing m despair. But if he were to revisit his old quarters on the Grand canal n >w, he would probably find it impoesiole to write at all. The steamers Whistle in the ap proved fashion on arriving at and depart ing from each station; they whistle as they approach the femes, they whistle as often as they happen to see a boat ahead, and they whistle at other times In case there might be a boat ahead. Altogether they have imported a very noisy element Into the life of the canal, and one need not be cursed with a peculiarly senatuve nervous organization to feel now unpleas ant US obange is. It osa no longer be said, as It was said In "Oontarlm Fleming, 1 ’ that In Venice "ne rnde eosmd Cistnots membered that he had not the warrant. In reply to the deserter be replied aome- wii&t ambiguously that he “had not got itand hurried off as fast as ho could in the direction of the Sheriff's office “to get it.” He got it, arrested his man and brought him to Philadelphia. When Royle reached the headquarters it was about three o'clock. His comrades welcomed him, ssid they were glad to see him,rushed him upstairs and chained him to the bed, posting a sentry ouulde to shoot him if he tried IQ esgany An ths window Was So utcessaflnWIre a»y pjecauuotnntfiuai direction. The heavy tread of the wintry sod the orcaslOiial uaug of bis musket on the floor did their best to intorm Royle that he was not at a fair. As the exact chronology of bis proceedings can only be told by himself a large patyof them have to be guessed au It is certain that it began by working some screws and divid ing tbe bedstead into two parts. It is thought that his next move was to tie it securely to h s body, so that when he , utuped neither he nor the bedstead should each the ground first, which would have entailed considerable jolting. A few scraps of rope which lie around the room tend to confirm this belief. The d”S0eut of the man, hampered as he waa by the piece of bedstead, which is some three feet by two and a hair feet square, seems almost incredible. Underneath the window at a distance ol fourteen feet is a slippery and iuflrm wooden shed belonging to the yard of a bouse m the rear of the military rendez vous. He must have Jumped on to this, which feat in itself was perilous. The roof is covered with moss and frost and looks anything but a safe resting place. From the shed he evidently leaped on the hard bricks of the yard, twenty-two feet more. Tue yard is surrounded by a wooden fence some eleven feet in beignt, which seems to be unchmbaHe even it the climber were not handcuffed and ac companied by a hedbtsaiL It was just 6 o’clock when the escape was made. This was just the time when every one but the sentry was at tea. It was thought that on reaching the ground Royle must have been assisted by friends, It is impostible, however, that any one could have climbed up to the room trom without. The wonder is that Royle was not seen either by some one in the oourt at the rear or by persons in the houses. About a year ago Royle escaped from the police station at Allentown, where he wac confined tor a trifling offenoe, in similar way. Had he not fled he would have been sent to the Jefferson Barracks, at. Louts, and tried by oourt-martial. The usual punishment is Are or six years’ imprisonment, which is generally reduced to half oy the judge advocate. 'The de sertion is the fliih this year in the distnot, m win oh FhiladeJphla is included. T he UaMt ot VatnUu*. There is not so muob fainting in pnb lie as there was thirty years ago. Bound health, which neoeaevily secures the firm nerves and muscles, is the surest preventive of famines). An exchange remarks that the majarity of vigorous men'go through all fcude-of severe am painful experience dthoub fainting, while delicate men aid women swoon at trifles. American v men, who used to faint continually—U crowds, at bad news, at scenes of distress—now faint comparatively seldom; and the fact is ascribed to their relnquishment. for' the most part, of the labit of lacing, to their increased exercia in the open air, and their bettor phy teal conditions. Not ore American won m faints to-day, where thirty years igo, twenty-five women fainted and tl» diminution of the disorder, always thl result of direct oaueee, is an tuumsti labia evidence, which other things eoaoborat^ ot the Um feealtt of the ear,” or that '’there is aoUdng to put aney to light,’’ marked aataitoratiaa the highly organized, trire, bat flexible and jpuKutag women of ouf^emnpMt race, The brotherhood of Delaware bay and river pilots is composed of about ninety active, sturdy, weather beaten, danger-daring men, whose ages range between twenty five and seventy-five years, and some of whom have oontinn- ously pursued their useful, even iudis- pensible, calling for nearly half a cen tury. The writer in frerh from a social chat with one of the oldest, best-known, and most experienoed of these hardy men, who oonduot vessels from the open sea through the dangerous shoals and wrecking spots of the Delaware bay and river, to their docks along the river front of tbe city of Philadelphia. The name of this old pilot is Lester D. Bohellinger, and for over forty years he has been engaged in piloting vessels up and down the Delaware river and bay, and bis father did the same thing be fore him. For the past twenty years, however, he has alternated piloting with being Captain of City Ice Boats. Cap tain Schellinger resides at No. 120 Queen street, and it wrs there the wri ter received from him the information embodied in this article. Captain Schellinger was asked:— “What is the course of traiuing to quality a mau to become a regular pilot?” “What we call ‘pilot boys,’” was the response, “have to serve a regular ap prenticeship of six years to some old, experienced pilot. That is, they have to almost live on pilot-boats, and are studying and observing ail the time. Then they are required to make thirty- two trips up aud down the river aud bay in square-rigged vessels before their time is out. After going through this the pilot-boy is taken belore a commit tee of the Port Wardens and a board of pilot-examiners, and if he is found to be bright and capable he obtains what we oall a ‘twelve-foot branch,’ aud he keeps that for eighteen months. He is then examined again, and if found com petent he gets a ‘first-class branch,’and is a full pilot. Mist of the pilot-boys are sons of old pilots, and they have generally a natural aptitude for the business.” “How are pilots licensed?” “The Pennsylvania pilots and Dela ware pilots are now working in opposi tion to each other to some extent. For over 100 years all the Delaware bay pilots obtained their licenses from the State of Pennsylvania, but the last Pennsylvania Legislature out down the rates about 40 per cent., and then the Delaware pilots had a law passed giving them the old rates. When a pilot goes down stream he gets $3.00 per foot (water displacement). The highest rate up from the sea is $1.16 per foot and Juu xt UlIaA cr/ii n pr Winter piiotaga used to be $10 extra, but that is taken away How, although the Delaware pilots get the old winter rates yet. Pennsylvania pilots must work by Pennsylvania law.” “How about pilot boats?” “There are four pilot-boats owned by Pennsylvania pilots. Two of them cost over $18,090 each and the other two i $,000 each. Tmre are two Delaware boats, making six in alb When a pilot- boat gees out ske baa a regular orew of six men, and six pilots are allowed to go on her to hunt jo: s. The first pilot on the list gets the first job, and the others 'oilow in rotation. Bomet mes in fair weather these boats go as far as sixty miles ont to sea looking for incoming foreign vessels, but as a general rule they oruise about the Five Fathom Lightship. Tney remain on the watch day and night and in ail kinds of weather. When a vessel takes oi board a pitot he has full charge, aud his pay is according to the draft of water of the vessel. That is, if the vessel draws 18 feet the pilot gets $4.16 per foot ftem 12 feet up, aud one-third of what he receives goes to the pitot-boat for her support. When a pilot takes a vessel ont to sea he pays $5.00 ter what is called 'the take-off boat,’ to bring him book to port again, if the vessel ia a fid- feet bout, and he pays $4.00 up to 20 feet. It oosts considerable money to keep these pilot-boats in first-class con* dition, and they most be kept in splendid order for the service they have to pet form.' Alluding to the knowledge poeseeeet by Delaware bay pilots aud the care and skill they have lo exercise in bring ing a vessel safely into port from the sea, Captain Schellinger remarked;— “A regular pilot must be perfectly familiar with Delaware bay aud river from the Capes to the city. By day or night and in all kinds of weather ho must be able to thread his way safely through the water and with as much confidence as you would go along tbe street on the way to yoox home. The pilot must have a mintite knowledge every shoal, every channel, light houses and lights of all kinds, sound ings, bearings, etc., in the bay and river, and he most (so to speak) be able to see the bottom as his vessel ploughs through the water, He must be able to perfectly work a square-rigged vessel, and must have complete knowledge of everything connected with tbe tides.” “Describe generally the pilotage of vessel from tbe open sea outside the Capes to the port of Philadelphia.’’ “When a pilot-boat while cruising sights a vessel signalling for a pilot, her skiff is lowered, and the pilot whose turn it!» is rowed to the vessel, and when once on board he takee* com j maud. It is sometime* hazardous work to get from the pilot-heat to the vessel to be pi oted, for you most remember the pilot is bounu to answer the sum mons for his assistance, np matter whether it be day or night time, or whether the sea is rough or calm. Tue only thing that would prevent a pilot trom taking tbe amah boat and going to the Vessel that needed him, would be the almost certainty that the boat oooid not live in tbe see that might be run ning at the time- A pilot, however, will take to the email boat and reach us boat in safety, whan a less expert* eased mss weald take it for granted that the bafct would oe swam pea. Tbe signalling for prints at night tune U miles away, but steamers usually send up rockets when a pilot is wanted, and they can be seen a long way off from the deck of tha pilot-boat. When a pilot takes charge of a vessel out at sea to bring her into port, he makes for tbe Five-Fathom Bank, out from the mouth of the bay, aud ou which there is a lightship. Then he looks for the 'MoOrea Shoal,* between the light-ship and the ‘overfalls,’ which spot is off Cape May at the mouth of the channel; but if south he guides for 'Fenwick’s Island Shoal,’ twenty miles south of Henlopen. He must know juet where dangerous places are by day and night, and he feels his way by ni bt time by various hearings and the constant use of the lead, “hen ir.r-.de the Cayw there are numerous shoals on both sides to avoid, and the compass and lead are constantly in demand. Be tween Cape May, or the ‘overfalls’ and Bombay Hook, the pilot encounters tbe ‘Brown Shoal,’ on the west side, the ‘Flogger Shoal,’ on the same side, and on the eastern side, above tbe •Brandywine Shoal,’ is the 'Mire Maull Shoal,’ and then the 'Cross Ledge Lighthouse and Shoal.’ Then comes the ‘Ben Davis oyster bed,’ close to the channel on tbe east side, and just below Bombay Hook is the “Old John Shoal.’ There Is a light-house at Bombay Hook, and from the latter place to the. port of Philadelphia are numerous shoals, all of which are well known to regular pilots.” “How much oan a regular pilot make per annnm at the present rate?” “Pilots are not at all well paid now when yon consider the knowledge they must possess, and the exposed lives they lead. The rate* are low, and about two years ago the merchants got a bill passed wbioh reduced their pay about 40 per cent. A regular pilot now can scarcely average more than $800 per annum, aud we used to make from $1,500 to $1,800 a year. It costs a great deal to keep tbe pilot-boats in oruer, and one of them has lately goue out on a oruise on which $600 was spent for sails, riggirg, and necessary things of different kinds. For the past six months many pilots have not had more than one vessel per month, and some times they even ernise for two or three weeks at n time without getting a ves sel.” “What age is the oldest active pilot?” “William Marshal is the oldest ac tive regular pilot, and he is past seventy- five years of age. He goes out regularly, and keeps in good physical condition. he old pilots, as a general thing, are tolerably hale, hearty men, and the main trouble they have is rheumatism.” “How about disasters, accidents, etc’” ‘Disasters and accidents are quite lor twenty year*- - yavtr on yellow-fever vessels, ami aome of them have caught that disease. I have bad charge of yellow fever vessels more than once.” 1876. 1882. F. W. HABENICHT, Proprietor of the MORI A Western Ride. There are two of us—two women—ecur- ryiug along one of tbe ragged streets of a Territorial capital as fast as the shaggy, one-eyed pony attached to the wide seated phaeton could carry us, our deslmatton a settlement twenty-five miles farther up the Missouri, it U midsummer 0M88I and the sun was just rising as we reached the outskirts of the city. The air was s t: aud cool, and fragrant with an odor dif fused by the blooming plains. Striking the pralne road, we sped onward, leaving behind us the little white town, which lay nestled among tbe clustering hills, the dear, radiant sunrise dimmed only by the smoke of a river steamer rising dark against the rosy sky. it was lovely in its sum mer morning freshness, that green water- leas sea, which spread with a mighty sweep away to the far, far north and the snowy ranges of the west. The hour, the air, and all this loveliness had a subtle eff ect upon my companion and myself. Leaning back in our seat, we permitted the horse to jog along as he chose while ws sought to drink in the spir it ef tbe scone, so that we might remember it forever. The entire absence of fences, which the herd laws render unnecessary, inspires one with the same delightful sense of freedom as being far out upon the deep with no land in sight Sometimee we saw a diminutive farm house, which looked as though it might have tumbled from the clouds, so solitary and out of place it seemed. There it stood without a vine to shelter it,—a target for the midsummer sun, a toy for the winter tempests. But tbe sturdy, breve hearted pioneer may look from hte door aud see fortune smiling at him from hie broad, fertile acres. Ah, what possibilities lie in that glorious ooun try! A hundred aud sixty acres of the best land in the world may be had by the man who is courageous enough to set his face to the western sun and there turn the vir gin soil. There is r<*nn far all ih that broad, new roanlry," and secure prosperity tor those who press on to these goals with stout hearts and unflinching purpose. The Violin. I respectfully call the attention of the pnblio to my superior facilities for sup plying everything If my line, cfsaparto. : quality. Starting Wines* In Wtonx- boro in 1876, I have in all this time given the closet attention to my busi ness and endeavored to make my estab lishment FIRST-CLASS in every par ticular. I shall in the fntnre, as in tht past, hold myself ready to serve my customers with the best articles that can be procured in any market I shall stand ready, also, to guarantee every article I seU. I invite an inspection of my stock of Wines, Liquors, Tobacco, Cigars, etc. F. W. HABENICHT. IMPORTED. Scotch Whiskey (Ramsey’s). A. Bin Laubert and Marat Cognas Brandy. Jamaica Ram. Rotterdam Fish Gin. Ross’s Royal Ginger Ale. Jules Mumm A Co.’s Champagne. Cantrel A Cochran’s Ginger Ala. Apollinaris Mineral Water. Angus tora Bitters. Old Sherry Wine. Old Port Wine. DOMESTIC. Ginger Ale. Soda Water. Sarsaparilla. Old Cabinet Rye Whiskey. Old Schuylkill Bye Whiskey. The Honorable Bye Whiskey. TtyeTTV hfigav. - Jesse Moore Yollmer Bye Whiskey, Old N. C. Sweet Mash Oom Whiskey, Old Stone Mountain Corn Whiskey. Western Com Whiskey. Virginia Mountain Peach Brandy. New-England (French’s) Bum. North Carolina Apple Brandy. Pure Blackberry Brandy. Pure Cherry Brandy. Pore Ginger Brandy. Boston Swan Gin. SUNDRIES. Book and Eye. Osceola Bitters. Hos tetter’s Bitters. Bergner A Engel’s Lager Beer, in patent stopper bottles and on draught. New Jersey Sweet, Sparkling Cider. Tolu, Bock A Bye, Lawrence A Martin. Stoughton Bitters. Book and Com. Cigars and Tobacco Syndicate Cigar, 5 cents. The Hnntress Cigar, 2} cents. Madeline Cigar—All Havana—10 cents. Don Carlos (Nab)—all Havana—10 cents Minerva Cigar—Havana filler-5 cents. Cheek Cigar—Havana filler—5 cents. Our Boast Cigar—Havana fiber—5 cents * Lucky Hit Cigar—Havana filler—5 cents. Ihe Unicnm Self-Lighting Cl£irette, (Amber mouth-piece to every ten packages.) i The Plokwick Club Cigarette, {Shook month-pieces.) The Richmond Gem Cigarette, (Light smoking.) done generally by what we OaU flash lights, whleh eaa he sflea four or five Recent writers trace the origin of the violin to the Indian Ravanastron, yet pUyed by the poor Buddh'st monks, who go begging from door to door, and it is traditionally believed to have been the invention of Havana, King of Cey lon, 5000 B. O. From the Ravanastron sprang tbe goudok of Russia and the cr&wth of Wales—tbe latter in use be fore tbe sixth Century—both of which seem to have differed from the later instruments of the same tribe in having tbe upper sbrfuoe of the bridge flat, so ttiat all tbe strings had probably to be sounded at once. The viol waa the more immediate precursor of the violin aud of its relatives of deeper pitch the violoncello and tbe doable bass. Cham bent’s Cyclopaedia says. “The viol is to be seen represented on moanmeuts as for back as the dose of the eleventh century. Violins were mentioned as early as 1200 in the legendary life of Bt Christopher. Thy were Introduced into England, some say, by Charles II.” f ^ Sleep such oempany ae God keeps. Old foxes are caught at test. Open dears Invite thieve*. Fretting cares crest* grey Mte Keep you head out of the fire, sad yoqraeif out of quarrel. / • TIs dli BillM awl Fool Par lor in Toni ICE I ICE! ICE! An-abundanoe always on hand for tho nse of my customers. I wil also keep a supply of FISH, OYSTERS, &C., for my Restaurant, which is always open from the first of September to the first of April. I shall endeavor to please all who give me a calk Vay respectfully, F. W. HABENICHT. OPPOSITE POSTO