Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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^ ' ,V ■ > ■ m * W V TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. 0.. FEBRUARY 3.1883. ESTABLISHED 1847 THE BELLS OF SAM BLAS. Ok 1 bring oa back once more The vanquished days ot yore, When the world with faith was Oiled; Bring back the fervid seal. The hearts of Ore and steel The hands that believe and build. Then from our tower again We will send oner land and mam Our voices of command, Like exiled kings who return To their thrones, and the people learn That the Priest is lord of the land! O, Beils of San Bias, in vain Ye call back the Past again I The Past is deaf to your prayer; Out of the shadows of night, The world rolls Into light; It Is day break every were! WHAT UrGHT HAVE BEEN. “IsB’t it lovely?” Nettie Long asked, as she held np a trailing, bronze-hued satin dress for her husband’s admira tion one morning, three days before the coming of the New Year. “Yery lovely,” the man answered, in a tone less enthnsiastio than Nettie’s had been. “iTon ain’t glad a bit,” the girl said pettishly. “I am very glad, Nettie,” he replied quietly, with a voice which still had a suspicion of weariness in it. “It is lovely,” she replied, ‘‘and I only want one thing to make my toilet for New Year’s day complete. “I have the sweetest crimson roses for my throat and belt, and all I need is a duohesse lace bar be.” ‘‘I saw i* beauty to-day at Macintosh’s for twenty-live dollars.” “I am afraid you will have to do with out it, dear.” "I Lave exhausted my last month’s salary.” ‘‘I cannot give you the money.” “Never mind, Walter; draw your next month’s salary to-day, and give me my allowance and I will get the barbe with that, and have the meat anrl groceries charged for two or three weeks.” * ‘I would not mind drawing my salary a few days before it is due, though you know I do not like to do so, but I could never consent to your running in debt to purchase an article you do not need; and the «x>al bill 1 promised on the second of January will take all the surplus funds I might otherwise spare you.” _“jiut I do need it. Waiter." “One would think you would like your wife to look her prettiest on New Year’s Day.” “Let the coal-dealer wait another month,” she said ooaxingly, “I am sorry you have so little princi ple.” “I cannot be dishonest even to gratify you.” “Really you must do without it,” he replied. “1 cannot see how making one’s coal- dealer wait a few weeks is dishonest, but even if it were, it is no worse than meanness and stinginess!” • tp “Nettie, take care!” he interrupted; “you rouse the demon in me.” “You know 1 give you all I have. “We are spending every dollar of our income as fast as we receive it, when, now in our youth, we ought to be self-dening and economical, and save something in case of trouble or ill- health!” “Gome, Nettie, be reasonable,” he said, his voice changing from passionate anger to gentle entreaty; “your friends will think you quite as charming with out the coveted lace as with it, and and would certainly respect you more if they knew the circumstances." And he kissed her pretty pouting lips, and went to his business, grieved and anxious at his wife’s apparent lack of principle, yet revolving in his mind how he might purchase for her that which she so coveted. It was New Year’s Eve, and Mrs. Long attired for the opera, waited by the yellow light of the grate fire in their cosy parlor for her lord to Hni«h his toilette. It was late, and she could hear the sound of his footsteps as he went to and fro in the .room above, and once ahe started to call him, bnt took her seat . again, exclaiming angrily: “No, he is always late; let him take his time; I don’t care!” But when the bronze dock on the mantel struck eight she opened the door, and called impatiently: “Walter, are you never coming?” No voice answered her, but five min utes later her husband entered the par lor, attired for the opera. In her anger she would not turn and greet him, but when he softly crossed the «oom and stood before her, and she was compelled to glance np to him, her face whitened to the very lips. He was without shoes or stockings. He wore neither coat nor vest, and his white shirt hung slevelesss about him. Around his head, so as to conceal all but the wild eyes, from which the light of reason had departed, was gathered his whits merino veet; one hand held this tightly, while the other clasped Nettie’s white opera shall, which In her haste ahe had forgotten. “Waiter! Walter!” ahe cried in terror, “What is the matter?” “We’re going to get the—the-scarf, you know.” “I couldn’t get it before; don’t scold I” he said piteously. “My darling!” “Oh, my darling!” wailed Nettie’s white lips, as she took him tenderly and unresistingly in her arms and drag ged him upstairs and into their pretty bridal-room, and placed him in an easy- chair, the only piece of furniture in the room which was empty. Ringing a bell, Mrs. Long summoned their only servant and bade her go qnickly for a physician. Upon the chairs, the floor, the bed, were scattered every article of clothing which the closet had contained. Her husband’s shaving materials lay on the bureau. Nettie shuddered as she noticed the open razor and the great gashes in the pale-blne satin pin-cushion. What if, while she sat there so wick edly impatient for his coming, he had never come at all? And that he should have come to her thus! Her tears fell Lke rain as she laid away the garments he might never wear again, and gently placed him on his conch. Her sobs troubled him, tor he said: “Nettie, darling, don’t cry.” “I couldn’t get the scarf, you know; I’ll go now and get it.” She checked her tears, and soothed him with tender words, and bathed his throbbing forehead, and lulled him to sleep, and sitting there, holding his feverished hand, thought remorsefully of all his kindness to her since, less than a year before, he had brought her, a penniless, orphan shop-girl, to this prettily furnished cottage home, and by and by, after what seemed to her an eternity, the doctor came. He felt the fevered pulse, inquired carefully when and how the symptoms first appeared, looked wise and thought ful, wrote two prescriptions, gave di rections concerning them, and left. Two days later the end came. Nettie s husband, the one love of her youth, cloned las eyes and drifted away from her. And his last words had been: “Nettie, darling, i’ll get the scarf in the morning.” And this loving but erring bride, so early widowed, knelt beside him in an agony of gnaf, which only those can know who have wronged the one they loved dearest on earth, and it is too late for regret or forgiveness. “Nettie, little wife—asleep!” “Wake up and look at this barbe I tf Nettie sprang from the Turkish lounge, threw her arms around her husband’s neck and covered his lips with kisses, while tears of joy and thanksgiving and repentance filled her eyes. “What is it, dear?” Walter asked, seeing her so moved. “Oh, I dreamed!” And once more she clasped him con vulsively. Then she told him something of her agonizing vision. He took her in his arms and kissed away her tears, and soothed her agita tion, and told her how the mining stocks which he had held so long hav ing tLat day declared a dividend, he was enabled tc afford the barbe, and had gone himself and purchased it for her as a New Year’s gift. “Oh, how good you are!” “1 am not half worthy of you, Walter, I shall not wear the barbe New Year’s Day though, as a punishment for my selfishness and cruel words to yon!” And she folded tenderly the dainty lace and laid it aside, as we put away the precious things of the beloved dead. She would have her way. And on New Year’s Day, attired in her bronze-hned satiiTdress, with only the crimson roses at her throat and belt, she had never looked so beautiful to the fond husband who watched her proudly as she welcomed their friends with sweetness and grace. And thus the demon which had threatened their home and happiness was frightened away forever. magaetlo Dream*. Remarkable Deal In Whlut. Probably the most remarkable deal in whist that was ever made oooured at a Cincinnati club the other day. After the first hand had been played Mr. Webster, whose turn it was to deal, took the cards, shnffled them, and, after they had been out by Mr. Kiersted, dealt. Each player as he arranged his card* appeared to be laboring under some unusual excitement. Mr. Oulbert- sen, whoee torn it was to play, and who generally in very prompt in placing his card on the table, delayed the play un til Mr. Starbnok broke the ominous silence which prevailed by exclaiming. “Gentleman, I have the most remarka ble whist hand I ever held. 1 hold thirteen hearts.” “And I,” remarked Mr. Oulbertson, “hold equally as re markable a baud. I have thirteen spades.” “And I,” nervously said Mr. Kiersted, “have the thirteen diamonds. “ f course I hold the tbirteen trumps,” quickly chimed iu the dealer, Mr. Web ster. A case is said to have occurred in a Boston club a year or so ago where a player held the thirteen trUmpj, and also a aimilur case in a New York clnb, but such an instance as that recounted above has no example cr precedent in the history cf whist. Many eccentric philosophers have been disposed to think that there is something tb he said for the popular faith in ghosts; aad ameng these philo sophers perhaps the foremost place is due to Schopenhauer, who took sueh high tank among L-e original thinkers of his age that he earned the right to be heard about any matter regarding whiah he chose to express decided opinions. As a rule, he was by no means easily duped; bat when he approached the snb. ject of “vision” he seemed almost to lose the faculty of testing evidence. Hardly any story relating to the border land between the natural and superna tural, whether recorded by ancient nr modern writers, was condemned by him as extravagant; and in one of his essays he rebuked Englishmen (whom in other respects he considered to be far ahead of Germans and Frenchmen) for their scepticism as to the mysterious affinities and capacities of the human mind. Curiously enough, he attributes our backwardness in this depaitement of philosophical inquiry to the malign in fluence of the clergy of the National Uhorch, who, he thought, denounced animal magnetism and all other “isms of a similar tendency, because they per ceived the perils to which these sciences would expose their superstitious reli gious beliefs.” One ot the fundamental doctrines of Schopenhauer’s philosophy is that the world as we know it has not an indepen dent existence. Like Berkely, be held that it is merely an ‘ ’appearance. ” The only really existence, be maintained, is “the thing in itself”; and “the thing in itseli” he identified with the will. In ordinary circumstances we know the will only as it manifests itself nnder the forms oi space, time, and causality ; but he contended that there are states of the brain in which we penetrate behind these forms, and come into contact with the will as it is in its ow i nature. “At such times wo escape from tho system of intellectual illusions which it is the business of science to mvestigate; we are in the realm of absolute truth, which constitutes the proper domain of philo sophy. Even members of the Society for Psyohio&l Research are not likely to take np higher ground than this, and they will certainly not surpass Schopen hauer in the confidence with which he drew conclusions from his ultimate prin ciples. The states of the brain which lead to such surprising results occur when we are in “a magnetic sleep,”and a magnetic sleep may be produced wheu we are asleep in the ordinary way. It dees not follow that if we fall into a magnetic sleep we shall have magnetic dreams ; and If we do dre am magnetic ally, it does not follow that we shall re member what we have dreamed. A magnetic sleep is far deeper than an ordinary -sleep, and in the slow process of awaking from it we may forget the spectacle which it has enabled us to see. Sometimes, however, the impres sion which the vision has produced on onr feeling remains ; and on these ocoa- sions, if the vision has been one of coming disaster (as it commonly is in the worst of possible worlds, according to Soopenhauer), we have what is called a presentiment of evil and one presen timent is sure to be realized-sooner or later. At other times our magnetic dream— that is our perception of realities—may be transformed into a sort of allegory which is capable of different interprets-., tiooa. Of this kind were the predictions of the Delphic oracle, which frequently could not be understood until they were fulfilled. Shopeuhauer was not of opinion however, that oar mysterious visions in their original form iu variably pass from the memory; aad he gives an example of one which he himself bad an oppor tunity of studying. Ttm instance seemed to uim all the more remarkable because it related to a matter of little Importance. One day he was writing a letter in great haste, and when he had finished the third page he intended to strew writing-sand over what he had written. In his hurry he seized the ink- stand instead of the vessel containing sand, and dashed the contents over his letter. As the ink poured from his desk he rang for the maid to wipe it from the floor, When she was engaged in domg so, she said, “Last night I dreamt that I should bejwiping ink-spots from the floor here." “That is not trne,” answered Schopenhauer. “It is true, she replied, “and when T awoke 1 mentioned it to the other maid who sleeps with me.” Just then the other maid happened to enter the room in order in to call away her fellow-servant. Shopenhauer, advancing to meet her, at once asked, “What did this girl dream last night?” “I don’t know.” “Yes, yon do; she told you when she awoke.” “Oh, to oe sure,” the maid then said,” she dreamt that she would be wiping ink spots from the floor here.” Shopen- haner gravely points out that this anec dote is not only sufficient evidence for magnetic dreaming, but that it estab lishes the troth of the doctrine that everything happens in aooordaneo with a fixed and neooesssry order. To neglect at any time preparation for death, is to sleep on our poet at a siege, but to omit it in old age, is to sleep at an attack. A bens OtaappeiruiM. ( Twenty-seven years ago Watson 8. Worstall, a lad of 17 yean, mysteriously disappeared from his heme in Buokman- ville, Bucks county, Pa. Every effort was made to discover what had befallen him. After the lapse of more than a quarter of a oentory every expectation of solving the mystery had been gives np, and the old father, having almost reached fonr-soore-and-ten yean, had abandoned a long-cherished hope of seeing “his boy” again. On Thanks giving day, just before the big tarkey had been brought bn the' file in Lewis WorstaU's house, at Br jbmanyille,. a man with, heavy whiskers, looking to be over 40 yean of age, with broad shoulders and a hearty manner, walked into the sitting-room where old Hngh Worstall sat by the blazing logs, and looked eunoosly first at the old man and then at a tall man who stood on the other side of the room—Lewis Warstall, '“My!” exclaimed Mrs. Worstall, “I thought it was Warner”— referring to her husband’s brother, who lives at Doylestown, “No,” said the stranger quietly, “it is Warner’s brother, Watson.” It was indeed true. After twenty- seven years the missing brother had come back to his native place. He had lived for many years within a day’s ride of his old home, bat did not know until he came to Buckmanville whether his father or any of his broth ers were aliye. Daring all the search for him, and the excitement consequent upon the mystery which surrounded him, he was living quietly ten miles from Bnckmanville. Watson had been a good-natured, rollicking lad, full of fun and pranks and fond of freedom, and objected to learning a trade, as his father had determined he should. Ho made np his mind cme day to quietly “drop ont” and, imagining that a hue-and-cry would be made abroad, he shrewdly went only a few miles from home, near the little village of Willow Grove, and hired himself to a farmer. He had firmly determined never to communi cate with his family nor return to his home. For three years he worked on the farm at Willow Grove. Having here accumulated a little mosey he came to city for two yean. Then, taking Horace Greely’s advice, he went West, bnt in a very short time he returned and went to Annapolis, Md„ where he married, and subsequently settled down in Alexandria, Ya. Watson served four years in the war in the Third United States Infantry, and was seriously wounded at Chanoel- lorsville. After the war he was in business in Maine for six years. He is now a car-builder in Manchester, Ocean county, N. J., where he resides with his wife and two children. Last summer he spent some months in Vine- land, N. J., within a few miles of the place where one of his brothers (Owen) lives; bnt neither saw nor heard of the other. Another curious circumstance is that, although he had for years lived so near his old home, Watson never in the en tire twenty-seven years saw an old ao- quaiutanoe nor any one he knew from Bucks county. Not one member of his imm?di * te family, which was a large one, had died during his absence. An Orator’* Power. ' It was in the Olay campaign of 1844. An immense audience, 15,000 or 20,000, had assembled to hear Pres ton. A large stage had been erected, which was crowded with prominent persons, and the multitude was packed around it. There was the usual buzz and confusion incident to snch occasions, nntil afbet Preston had been speaking a few mo ments, when it began to subside and soon there was a dead silence, except the music of that wonderful voice. He was in fine condition for his work* and went at it in bis best style. The silence. 3 / seemed to intensify as the tide of hkf eloquence poured over the dense masp of enchanted listeners. With the swffil of his sonorous voice the audience seemed to rise on tiptoe and to sink back again with its ebbing cadences ; and again they swayed with the sweep of his arm like a wheat field to the breeze. At length, in a magnificent burst of inspiration—with his long arm raised high, his eyes flashing and the moltitude hanging breathlessly to his words- he seized the brown wig which he wore, held it up over his shining bald head, and, still soaring in his splen did flight, replaced i^ cross-wise and soared on; and there was not, in that vast audience, the least ripple of laugh ter at this most ridiculous performance, but, on the contrary, no one seemed to notice it, so completely entranced was every listener. • A Cuttle Range. The great cattle range^ of Wyoming under the military protection of Fort McKinney is about 800 miles square. In this ares are now grazing 500,000 head of cattle, worth $27 per head, amounting to $13,500,0Q0, to which can be added the value of the horses .pad ranches of the cattle men and the far mers, and the stock of the grangers, making at least $16,000,000 of proper ty. CIom Shot*. ;u* One or two cases of very nanow es capes from death by bullets occur to nta. Says an old soldier. During the Kafir war, I several times accom panied large parties of troops sent ont to intercept or pursue bodies of tho ene my, or to destroy kraals or capture cat tle. We never succeeded in intercept ing or overtaking Kafirs unless they were in strong parties and desired to fight; and as we marched along by day the Kafirs, in loose order and in parties of tjwo or three, would hang on our flanks and rear, showing them selves on the high ground, but keeping out of range of our. mokketa. One pight four of ns were sitting cross- legged round a little fire, on which we had put our coffee-kettle to boil, and, as we thus sat, a report, followed by the ring Of »ballet close over our heads, wanied us that Kafirs were prowling, about. This was followed by several other shots which struck the ground quite Close to us; but we were tired and cold and hungry, having had no food all day and we were unwilling to lie down to aleep on the bare ground with empty stomachs. We therefore determined, in spite of danger, to keep the fire burn ing until the coffee was ready; and to hurry this, one of us stooped down to blow the fire with his mouth, when another shot settled the matter, for a bullet passing between us smashed the kettle and scattered the embers about the head of the one who was blowing the lire. How close the bullet passed to his head may be imagined, for it touched his hair. There was nothing to be done but to stamp all the embers out roll ourselves in our oloaks and light our pipes to keep down the cravings of hunger. At the relief of the residency of Lucknow the Oolonel of my regiment had two very narrew escapes. As he was cantering from one position to another, the motion of the horse raised him a little out of the saddle every now and then, and just at the moment when he was raised out of the saddle a bulle* passed below him, tearing the leather open along the whole seat of the saddle. Had he been sitting still in the saddle he would have been horribly wounded. Shortly after the ballet struck the han dle of his Revolver, which was in a XMYI1 aIv .a|t0*1 Kio 'vtuAim*) A but for the revolver he would have re ceived a mortal wound. Lost on the Oceau. Rear Admiral George H. Preble, of the United States navy, gives some interesting facts concerning the loss of life and property in Atlantic passenger steamships. The writer covers a period of forty years, from 1838 to 1879. The whole number of vessels lost in these forty years was 144, or an average of between three and four vessels a year. A resume of the most important wrecks, in which large numbers of lives were lost, gives the city of Glasgow 1 , in 1853, with 450 lives; the Arctic, witli 562 lives; the Pacific, Le Lyonnais and the Austria, with 200, 260 and 533 respectively; the Hungarian, of the Allan line, from Liv erpool to Boston, in 1860, with 205 lives; the Canadian, also of the Allan line, 1861, with 30 lives; the Anglo- Saxon, of the same line, in 1863, with 237 lives; the Cambria, of the Anchor Line, wrecked in 1870, losing 196 lives; the Scanderia, of the Morgan Line, which disappeared in 1872, with 45 souls; the Atlantic, of the White Star Line, which was wrecked in 1873, and 546 lives lost; the Villa du Havre, in the same year, with 230 lives; the Schiller, of the Eagle Line, wrecked in 1875, losing 200 lives; the Deutschland, of the North German Lloyds, in 1875, with 157 liyes, and the Pomerania, of the Hamburg-Amerioan Packet Company, in 1878, with fifty lives. Nineteen ves sels in the forty years have left every soul oil 'board. Th&e were the Presi dent, in 1841; Hei;i Majeaty,. 1864; the Tempait, 1857; thr Heahid, 1861; the: United Kingdom, 1869; tneCity of Bos ton, 187$; the Commander, 1872; the Maffr Ohurclq, IffT^tte Shannon, 1872; the Charruca,;i872; the Devon, 18 72 the Ismalia, 1873; the Anna 1874; the Colombo, 1876; the Mexican, 1877; the Copia, 1878; the Hermann Ludwig, 1878; the Homer, 1878, and the Zanzibar, 1879. j,,. . It is generally believed that the Can ard Line has never lost a ship nor the life of a passenger. This report shows that that line has lost two vessels—the Colombia, in 1843, and the Tripoli, in 1872. In the first accident one life was lost; none in the second. ‘ The In mans’ loss is given at 5 vessels: the Williams & Goion, 6; the Montreal, (Allan Line) 7; the Anchor Line, 8; North German Lloyds, 4; Compagnie Generate Transatlantique, 5; White Star, 1; Wilson, 1; Hamburg-American Packet Company, 1; Antwerp Line, 1; and State Line, 1. More than half the ves sels lost are said to have been wrecked dose to the shore; Twenty-four are reported missing; 10 were burned atsea; 8 were sunk by collisions and stress of weather. It is prebabis that the 24 reported miatUg wsrSsunk by ice; . • ,M»4han » i t! ' He whose souL mposoe on his firm trust in his Redeemer, like the halcyon that builds on the wsves r if storms arise, may be tossed, but not endan gered. FOOD FOR THOUGH1. at The seeds of our punishment is sown the same time we commit sin. No government is safe unless protect ed by the good will of the people. When you bury an old animosity, never mind patting np a tombstone. Whilst yoc look too much on others’ gardens, you will neglect your own. Faith steps into onr aid when onr boasted reason and knowledge fall. There is no such thing as being proud before man, and humble before God. Genius at first is a little more a great capacity lor reoeiving discipline. The most important part of any busi ness is to know what ought to be done, Ho who lives to ben* 8? V» jlf con ten on the world a benefit when he dies. The sweetest thing on earth Is a little child when it has learned to know and love. He that would have the perfection of pleasure most be moderate in the use of it. Plunge boldly into the thick of life, and seize it wheu you will, it is inter esting. Men show their character in nothing more clearly than by what they think laughable. There are more fools than sages; and among the sages there is more folly than wisdom. He who reigns within himself, and rules passions, desires and fears, is more than a king. The very nature of love is to find its joy in serving others, not for one’s own benefit but for theirs. Idleness is the dead sea which swal lows up all virtues, and is the self-made sepulchre of a living man. Pity is a sworn servant unto love, and this be sure, wherever it begins to make the way, it lets the master in. If you let trouble rest upon your soul like a hen upon her nest, you may ex pect the hatching of a large brood. How many wabte their mornings in anticipating their afternoons, and their afternoons in regretting their inorningM! Wheu we record our angry feelings let it be on the snow, that the first beam of sunshine may obliterate them for ever. The object of all ambition should be to be happy at home. If we are not happy there, we cannot be happy else where. ' A promise should be given with cau tion and kept with care. It should be made by the heart and remembered With the Lead. The impressions of religion are so natural to mankind, that most men are necessitated, first or last, to entertain serious thoughts about it, A good wife is like the ivy which beautifies the building to which it cl(pgs, twining its teudnlls more loving ly as time converts the ancient edifice into ruin. Conscience and covetousness are never to be reconciled. Like tire and water they always destroy each other, according to the predominancy of either. How difficult you will find it to con vince a miserly neart that anything is good which is not profitable, or a liber tine one that anything is bad which is pleasant. lime is short, your obligations infi nite. Are your houses regulated, your children instructed, the aflhotod re lieved, the poor visited, the work of piety accomplished. That age of the ohorch which was most fertile in nice questions, was most barren in religion, for it makes people think religion to be only a matter of wit in tying and untying knots. Socially, we may all easily be divided into two classes in this world, at least in the civilized part ot it. If we are not the people whom other folks talk about then we are sore to be the people who talk about others. Education is a companion which no misfortune can depress, no crime de stroy, no enemy aleuiate, no despotism enslave. At home a friend, abroad an introduction, in solitude a solace, in society an ornament. Sorely, surely, the only true Xnow- ietjgo of our fellowman is that which enables us to feel with him—-whioh gives us a fine ear for the heartpulses that are beating under the mere clothes of circumstance and opinion. The Christian should be careful how he mingles with the world, or his Christian profession, like a sword ex posed to moisture, if it does not lose its edge it will certainly lose its polish. Religion is a necessary and indis pensable element in any human charac ter. There is no living without it. It is the tie that connects man tp his Creator, and holds him to His throne. Timidity creates cowards ana never wins success. It is a strong and abid ing faith in one’s own ability to per form, that overcomes difficulties that others thought oonld not be sormount- ed. Man with all his boasted strength of mind, needs womanly love and sympa thy, It is not as a worker at all thai be wants a wife. If this is all he needs, hired help can do it cheaper than a wife. . Money has a closer relation to morals than is generally admitted. In all his tory, whether of communities or indi viduals, we find that laxity in money mattters is followed by looseness Li morals. Carlyle says that one cannot move a step without meeting a duty, and that tho fact of mutual helplessness is proved by the very fact of one’s existence. No man liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself. . A man who passes through life with out marrying is like a fair mansion left by the builder unfinished. The half that i« completad runs to decay by ne glect orbeoomes at best but a sorry tenement, wanting the addition of that which makes both useful and comforta ble and ornamental. 1876. 1882. F. W. HABENICKT, Proprietor of the MORlimUMM I respectfully call the attention of the public to my superior facilities for sup plying everything ii my line, of superior quality. Starting business In Winns- 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 future, as in the past, hold myself ready to serve my customers with the beet articles that can be procured in any market I shall stand ready, also, to guarantee every article I sell. 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 Cognae Brandy. Jamaica Bum. Rotterdam Fish Gin. Ross’s Royal Ginger Ale. Jules Mnmm Sc Co.’s Champagne. Cantrel Sc Cochran’s Ginger Ale, Apollinaris Mineral Water. Angnstora Bitters, Old Sherry Wine. Old Port Wine. DOMESTIC. Ginger Ale. Soda Water. Sarsaparilla. Old Cabinet Rye Whiskey. Old Schuylkill Rye Whiskey. Old Golden Grain Eye Whiskey. Renowned Standard Rye Whiskey. Jesse Moore Vollmer Rye Whiskey, Old N. C. Sweet Mash Com Whiskey. Old Stone Mountain Corn Whiskey. Western Com Whiskey. Virginia Mountain Peach Brandy. New England (French’s) Rom. North Carolina Apple Brandy. Pure Blackberry Brandy. Pure Cherry Brandy. Pore Ginger Brandy. Boston Swan Gia. SUNDRIES. Book and Bye. Osceola Bitters. Hostetter's Bitters. Bergner Sc Engel’s Lager Beer, in patent stopper bottles and on draught. New Jersey Sweet, Sparkling Cider. Tolu, Rock Sc Rye, Lawrence Sc Martin, Stoughton Bitters. Rock and Corn. Cigars and Tobacco Syndicate Cigar, 5 cents. The Huntress Cigar, 2| cents. Madeline Cigar—All Havana—10 cents. Don Carlos (Nub)—all Havana—10 cents Minerva Cigar—Havana filler -5 cents. Cheek Cigar—Havana filler—5 cents. Onr Boast Cigar—Havana filler—6 cents* Lucky Hit Cigar—Havana filler—5 cents. The Unicum Self-Lighting Cigarette, (Amber mouth-pieoe to every * ten packages.) -e The Piokwiok Club Cigarette, (Shuck month-nieces. 1 The Richmond Gem Cigarette, (Light smoking.) Tie odIj BUM and Fool Par lor in To?i ICE! ICE! ICE! An abundance always on hand for tiho use of my customer*. I wti 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 call. Very respectfully, F. W. HABENICHT. opposite rosicyrcs.