Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. C.. SEPTEMBER II. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 A RAINY KVUNl.YO. ► j, x n J rV The twilight shadows darkling fall; O memories dear! against thy thrall My heart strives all in vain. Yet wherefore strive against my mood? 1 cannot silence if I would, The softly falling rain. At such an hour, on such an eve, Bright hopes, that yet I only grieve, Sprang up to only fade and wane. Ah, never more, hand clasped in band, Shall we within the doorway stand, And watch the falling rain. Yet still the sweetness of that hour Returns with all its wonted power Of mingled joy and pain, When dropping down from window-eaves, Or gently falling on the leaves, I hear the summer rain. O cruel Memory I thus to bring That glad brief hour, with bitter sting, Bade to my heart again; These parting words of fond regret; With glad pretext, love lingering yet, Unmindful of thejuin. Ah! brief, indeed, poor aching heart, The joy those tickle hopes impart; Grief follows in their train. Nay, nay, my heart; take upward wing. O cruel Memoryl thy sting Shall vanish with the rain. Though sadder seems the song I trill; Yet sorrow, with its plaintift - thrill, Adds sweetness to the strain, As fragrant perfumes softly flow From hawthorn blossoms bending low, Beat down by wind and rain. A FAIR FRIEND. Vernon, stepping down from the carriage that had been sent from Royal Oaks to meet him, thought what a pretty picture she made—that slender graceful young girl standing in the open doorway of the grand old man sion, the westering sunlight slanting across her white-robed figure, and lingering in a glory on her yellow hair and rose-leaf complexion. Evidently she was expecting some one, and Vernon could not fail to see the look of inquiry in her blue eyes as he went up the step towards her, and the thought flashed over him that she was like a young saint on her shrine, and he the worshipper. As he went up nearer her, valise in hand, the look of inquiry suddenly changed into a little flush and smile of assurance. “I am quite sure this is Mr. Ver non?” “And so am I ” “Only I am not quite so sure who you are.” He laughed at this informal style of introduction. “Oh, I am Genevieve—-haven’t you ever heard Mr. Bascom speak of me.” “I have not seen or heard from my grandfather for twenty years,” he said gravely, "ana i uniy come now in obe dience to his dying request.” A surprised look was in her face. “You have notcome much too soon,” she answered. Mr. Bascom asks for you every few minutes, and I told him 1 would watch for the carriage and bring you at once when you came. Shall 1 take you to him now? lie is alone, but for Miss Carlyon.” Vernon followed her in through the maguifleent hall, paved with colored marble in fanciful patterns, thinking with a curious little sensation that it was the first time in a score of years that he had crossed the threshold of Royal Oaks—to which he should right fully be sole heir, but which in all human probability, he never would possess, because of a deep-rooted long standing grudge his grandfather held against him—because he was his moth er’s child, and she had married Otis Vernon against her father’s consent. And because young Vernon had his father’s name and his father’/look and manners, old Mr. Bascom had one day told him he needn’t come to Royal Oaks any more, because as his mother was dead, there was no longer any medium of welcome for him. So—for the first time in twenty years, Otis Vernon crossed the threshold of Royal Oaks, and met his fate when he looked in Genevieve’s sweet blue eyes. Everything was so strange to him— this lovely fair-haired girl, whose name was Genevieve, the other splendid- looking woman who was sitting by the man’s bed, and whom Genevieve briefly presented— 4 ‘Miss Carlyon,Mr. V ernon’ ’ — a ‘ creamy-skinned, crim* on-lipped girl, with eyes and hair like midnight. Old Mr. Bascom gave him a sniff of perforce welcome. “You and Genevieve may leave the room,” he said to Miss Carlyon, in his sharp autocratic way, that remember ing so well, seemed the only lamiliar thing about it all. Then he told Otis to come up beside . the bed. “I didn’t send for you because 1 especially wanted to see you on my own account,” he said abruptly. “You know I am not in the habit of mincing matters, and I see no reason for doing nay differently because I happen to be on my dying bed.” It seemed strange, impossible to rea lize that these hard imperious words came from a dying man, and Vernon was at a loss to know what to say. “I came at once when you sent,” he answered courteously. “And it is a good thing that you did,” the old man replied curtly, What I have to say to you is just this. “I leave a fortune and estate and valuables worth just exactly two hundred thousand dollars. If you want it you can have it by marrying Miss Carlyon. If you don’t marry her, you can’t have it.” That’s all thtre is about it. “It’s all down in my will, but the will is not to be opened until one month from the day I die. ’ “You have your choice.” “You can do just as you please.” Vernon met steadily the hard, al most cvuel eyes that looked up 'vom the pinched pale face. “I think you know you are asking an impossibility.” This lady of whom you speak is an entire stranger to me In a month’s time it is not at all likely I would learn to care anything for her —to order.” Vernon spoke coldly, proudly, and as he spoke it occured to him that month, a week would be too long in which he could be taught to tell little yellow-haired Genevieve he loved her. “You can do just as you please of course,” Mr. Bascom said. “That’s all I have to say.” “I suppose they’ll give you a room somewhere—you’d better stay, now you are here until after it’s over—you can have an opportunity of getting acquainted with Miss Carlyon.” But the end was not quite at hand yet. Vernon stayed because he liked to be where Genevieve was, with whom he had come to be wonderful friends. She told him that she was a protegee of Mr. Bascom’s, but that Augusta— Miss Carlyon—had superseded her in his favor. Vernon watched Miss Carlyon very carefully. She was undeniably handsome and charming in her manners. She could sing and p ay and read aloud most exquisitely, whereas little Genevieve was no elocutionist what ever, and only played simple little pieces, and sang the easiest ballads. Yet Otis Vernon fell desperately in love with her, and before one weak had gone by had made up his mind that he would marry her if she would have him, and the two hundred thousand be lost as far as he was concerned. It was not without a struggle though —Otis Vernon would have been more or less than human had he been placidly willing for such a fortune to pass him even for the sake of such a darling as Genevieve was, with her truthful wist ful blue eyes that lighted so at sight of him. And Augusta Carlyon who could have dowered him so royally, was no ordinary insignificant woman, who would have palled upon the man she favored. She was proud and reserved and elegant, and she did not in the least interfere in the very pronounced devo tion between the lovers, and so every thing went quietly along until One stormy July night, when a thun der-shower that had threatened for hours, burst over Royal Oaks in fury, and then settled into a pouring rain storm. Mr. Vernon had spent the evening with Genevieve in the library, and had told her in a lover’s frank confidence just what was before him, according Jo his grandfather’s will, and took her In his arms and told her how infinitely he preferred her and her sweet love to all the goods the gods could give him. He asked her if she would be his wife, and told her how he loved her in all of love’s most eloquent words. And Genevieve, with a little happy smile on her baby-sweet mouth, and an upward rapturous look of her innocent blue eyes, did not say him nay. “I almost believe I loved you that vary firof Hay, Otio ” aha said. “And I know I did, my darling, when I saw you standing there in the flickering sunlight, looking like a saint throned on her shrine. That was at 8 o’clock of that wet July night, and at eleven a servant rapped on Vernon’s door—would he please go at once to Mr. Bascom, Miss Carlyon begged —he was very much worse, and she was alarmed at his symptoms. Vernon found Augusta dismayed and anxious—but the thought that first flashea over him as he opened the door and saw her leaning over the sufferer, was how beautiful she was. Tfie next, how marvelously well she had played her cards to have become so great a favorite with this rich old man. “I do not understand his symptoms,” she said dismayedly. “Dr. Fortune old me what to expect—but there was nothing said of such agony as this.” “See—oh it is terrible!” “Do send Davis at once for Dr. Fortune, Mr. Vernon.” That the old man was in mortal agony was apparent, and Vernon in stantly despatched a carriage for the doctor, then returned to the bedside. “1 have clone all I could,” Augusta said pitifully. “But I cannot endure to see him suffer so.” Vernon looked straight at her. “Are you so much attached to my grandfather?” A very faint little flush went into her cheeks. “He has been very good to me,” she said simply. “He heard me sing, and volunteered to cultivate my voice, and it ended in my coming to this beautiful home. ” “And completely ruining Gene vieve’s chances,” he said, so sternly that he felt chagrined as he saw the look on her face. A look that instantly changed to one of haughty coldness. “Genevieve has not chosen to devote herself to her best friend. T have. ” A little sneering smile was on his handsome mouth, he almost answered her that she had played for high stakes and played them well. He was surprised at her next words— abrupt eager. “You do not like me, Mr. Vernon, why I cannot tell, but at risk of offend ing you beyond hope, I shall say this to you, Genevieve ” He stopped her by an Imperative gesture. “I shall hear nothing unkind against the charming girl who has honored me by promising to be my wife.” Their eyes met in a glanoe almost defiant. Then Miss Carlyon’s lips relaxed slowly into almost a smile. “You are right. We will not speak of her. Mr. Vernon, do you think Mr. Bascom is easier?” “I should sav he was.” “Can you leave him to me until the doctor gets here? You must be worn out—you look very tired.” His sudden kindness of speech made her cheeks flush. “Thank you. I am tired, and I have done all that one could do. If you will be so good as to watch by him—ten minutes or so, while I gain a little rest ” She went away, and Vernon, seeing the quiet into which the old man was relapsing, laid himself down on the lounge at the head ot the bed, to wait until the doctor should come, and to think over the intense happiness that had come to him that night. n, silently, softly, stealthily, with a glance around the apparently unguarded room, Genevieve came in, went up to the little marble-top medi cine table, and hastily, but firmly poured half a dozen drops of some liquid, from a vial in her hand, into the goblet of medicine, and then glided away as she had come, leaving Vernon paralyzed with horror and fear, scarcely able to speak to Dr. Fortune as he came into the room a moment later. “You look as if you’d seen a ghost,” he said, and then stepped up to the bedside, and gave an exclamation of surprise. “Mr. Bascom is dead,” he said, then Miss Carlyon coming in, related all the strange symptoms. “It looks like a case of poisoning,” Dr. Fortune said gravely, and all Ver non’s pulses seemed stopping as he walked to the table and took up the goblet of medicine, and examined it closely, with a face graver and graver. “Somebody has done it,” he said solemnly. “There will have to be an investigation here.” Sitting in her wrapper beside her window, Genevieve read the penciled note that somebody had thrust under her door five minutes before. “For Heaven’s sake get away as quick as you can! I was a witness to all you did. I can understand your motive—to have us think your fortu nate rival was in haste to secure her fortune, so that jou might profit by her disgrace. But I cannot endure to think that the woman whom I have kissed is in danger of the hangman’s rope. Get away for Heaven’s sake. Good-bye.” And when daylight came, Genevieve was far away, and no one ever saw her afterwards. Six months later Otis Vernon stood before Augusta Carlyon, grave, eager, earnest. “If you do not think me unworthy, Augusta. I was sure I loved—her— but 1 “Your sweetness and patience and goodness too has taught me my own heart’s needs, and, besides, you know what my grandfather’s will says. Dear, will you take me, and let us blot out all the horror- of the past, and make Royal Oakes the bonniest, happiest home that wedded lovers ever had?” And she laid her head on his breast, and let him kiss her for yes. It’* a Wafer. A few years since a man of high re spectability was tried on the charge of forging a will, in which it was discover ed he had an indirect interest to a large amount. Samuel Warren, the celebrat ed author of the “Diary of a Physician,” was a-sociated with the prosecuting at- t-nrnejr and the case was tried before Lord Denman. The prisoner being arraigned, and the formalities gone through with, the pro secutor, placing his thumb over the seal, held up the will and demanded of the prisoner if he had seen the testator sign the instrument, to which he promptly answered he had. ‘‘And did you sign it at his request as subscribing witness?” “I did.” “Was it sealed with red or black wax?” “With red wax.” “Did you see him seal it with red wax?” “I did.” “Where was the testator when he signed and sealed this will?” “In his bed.” “Pray, how long a piece of wax did he use?” “About three or four inches long.” “Who gave testator this piece of wax?” “I did.” “Where did you get it?” “From the drawer of his desk.” “How did you light that piece of wax?” “With a candle ” “Where did that candle come from?” “I got it out of a cupboard in his room.” “How long was that piece of candle?” “Perhaps forir or five inches long.” “Who lit that piece of candle?” “I lit it.” “With what?” “With a match.” “Where did you get that match?” “On the mantel-shelf in the room.” Here Warren paused and fixed his large, deep blue eyes upon the prisoner. He held the will up above his head, his thumb stdl resting on the seal, and said in a solemn, measured tone: “Now, sir, upon your solemn oath, you saw testator sign that will—he sign ed it in his bed—at his request you signed it as a subscribing witness—you saw him seal it—with red wax—a piece of wax, two, three, or four inches long; he lit that wax with a piece of candle, which you procured for him from a cup board; you lit that candle by a match which you found on the mantle-shelf?” “I did.” “Once more, sir, upon your solemn oath, you did?” “I did.” “My Lord,” exclaimed the triumph ant attorney, “it’s a wafer!” An old chip. The old ship New Orleans is soon to be sold by auction. The house which was built over it at Sackett’s Harbor. New York, at the close of the war or 1812 was blown down three years ago. Since then the vessel has been the sport of storms. To-day it stands a sad, weather-beaten object, awaiting its final destruction at the fall of the auctioneer’s hammer. Many of its timbers have walked off in the shape of canes. The ship was built in sixty days from the time the timber stood in the forests, and would have been launched in thirty more had not peace been declared. All the rigging was conveyed at great ex pense and under difficulties from New York. There were no railroads, and the Government road that ran out of and into Sackett’s Harbor was a very rude affair. The anchor chain of the New Orleans, weighing from 6,000 to 8,000 pounds, was carried from Utica on the shoulders of 300 men, who traced their way by means ot blazed tre«s. The New Orleans was built as a counter match on I. ake Ontario for the British ship St. Lawrence, London’* Foundling Uoipltnl. The Foundling Hospital, situated in Guilford street, was founded by Mr. Thomas Coram, a mercantile captain, who became interested in the fate of the numerous infants who, a century and a half since, were so frequently to be seen exposed in the streets, where they were left to perish by their parents. After seventeen years of difficulties he obtained the grant of a charter from George II, October, 1739, giving him permission to erect a hospital for the support of deserted infants, and in Oc tober, 1740, there appeared a notice on the door of a house in Hatton Garden to the effect that twenty children under the age of two months woul)l be received there, and that no questieji would be asked of any person so bringing an infant, on whose ct»thing some dis tinguishing inarK., however, was to be affivod. At the hour named a crowd of women with their babies assembled out side the house, and the strongest elbowed her way to the door and depos ited her child in Coram’s safe keeping. This clamoring and fighting was subse quently ovoided by the institution of the ballot, bags being provided with black, white and red balls. Those women who drew black balls were pronounced un successful, while those who were so fortunate as to secure the white were at once relieved of their children. As for those who drew red; they were per mitted to draw again for any vacancies which might occur in the event of suc cessful children being ineligible on the medical examination. Such was the origin of the foundling hospital. In 1745, the western wing of the present building was opened, and the House in Hatton Garden closed, the two other portions of the hospital being built soon after,and in 1747, the chapel was begun, a large, light structure, with some stained glass windows, and with an altar-piece by Benjamin West, repre senting Christ blessing children. In this chapel Mr. Coram was buried in 1751. The organ was originally pre sented by Handel, and although it has been greatly enlarged and altered, there still remain some of the actual materials before which the great musician sat when he helped to fill the coffers of the hospital by the gratuitous performance of the “Messiah.” The funds of the Foundling are mainly derived from the rents of the houses surrounding it, and with which the hospital is endowed, thanks to the exertions of its l»enevolent founder. Something also is obtained from collections made in the chapel. In the last annual report, for 1880-81, the income was stated to be ill 1,030, and the number of children maintained by the institution was 044. The placing of a child in the Found ling Hospital ia not eStaeted without trouble. Application must be made before the infant is a yekr old, and a printed form is then given to the mother to fill in, stating her name, age, occupation, inability to provide for her offspring, the father’s name, and when deserted. After presenting this form a long time often elapses before the mother is summoned to appear before the members of the committee. Then she is closely questioned as to her former life, her prospects should her child be received into the hospital, and the names and addresses of ladies by whom she may have been employed. She next receives instructions to come again before the committee in a fortnight, and during the interval careful inquiries are made as to the truth of her statements. Should they prove correct she is told to bring her infant on a certain date. On the day appointed (usually a Tuesday) the mother, with her child, presents herself at the institution, and is ushered into the room, where a fire blazes on the hearth, and before which a basket of infant’s clothes is placed. The mothers (for three children are usually received at a time), assisted by a female attend ant, undress their babes and wrap each one in a large gray woolen shawl; the doctors present examine them therough- ly, after which they are clothed in the garments provided, but instead of a dress a white nightgown is substituted the shawl is once more placed round each child, and its name written on a slip of paper and pinned to it. The attendant now leaves the room, the doctor presses a bell, three foundling girls enter, and almost before the mothers are aware, their babes are carried away, never to be known to them again, unless in time to come they can prove that they are in a position to benefit their children by tak ing them from the institution. The mother is given the clothes, the child was brought in, together with a ticket bearing a number, the date, and the figure of a sheep holding a small branch in its mouth, and, by presenting this tiokot at the office any Monday, ahaoan learn particulars, concerning the health of her infant. Unless it had previously been christened, the child is brought into the chapel the following Sunday for that purpose, when it receives a new name, by which it is afterward known. During the first year of its existence the child is placed out to nurse in the coun try, under the supervision of paid inspec tors, usually with some cottagers, who receive 3s. 6d. a week, and a bonus of 10s. 6d. at the end of the first year if the infant seems healthy. At the end of five years the child again returns to the hospital and begins its education,ending with apprenf eship to some trade, or with some situation in domestic service being found for it. The children ap pear at chapel twice on Sunday, and on that day dine in public; the nurseries may then also be visited by those wish ing to do so. Personal inspection and inquiry as to the conduct of those who leave the hospital for the various occu pations of life are kept up, and every year a meeting of the apprentices takes place, and gratuities are given to those who can show certificates of good conduct. MediMl Itami. —Primary education in America has not yet produced such good results as might be expected. Of the 50,000,000 inhabitants, more than 36,000,000 are over 10 years of age. Of tnese, 4,023,- 607, or 13.4 per cent., cannot read, while « 239,958, or 7 per cent., cannot write. Pennsylvania, the busiest of the States, is at the same time the most illiterate. The knees are apt to be affected by rheumatic pains, lameness and stiffness. The reason it is so often these joints in preference to others, is due to their greater exposure. They are often put directly upon the ground, in place of the feet, but without the protection of the boots. We use them in pushing gates and doors and to' hold things, as a harnessmaker uses his vise. The knees are often the most exposed of all the joints; as in riding either in a saddle or vehicle, they are the first to get wet or cold. They are above boots and be low the coat. These joints should be protected, and when painful, should be rubbed vigorously with hot water con taining soda, then with a course towel, and lastly with three parts of fresh lard to one of oil of peppermint. To avoid nightmare and dreams, sleep on the right side, never on the back. Let the supper come just five hours after dmner and four hours before retiring, and let it be very simple and light. Eat no vegetables or cured meats for supper. If yo*u are still troub led with dreams, take a little salt in water on retiring. And let those child ren who are very sleepy in the morning do likewise—take supper at five o’clock and retire at eight; they will waken early and feel rested. With dinner at twelve o’clock a child is very hungry at five, and if he eats his supper then, he will have it digested enough by eight o’clock, so that he can sleep and get fully rested by morning. But if he is obliged to wait until six o’clock (which often means that the good housewife intends to have supper at six and suc ceeds at six and a quarter, and the “menfolks” get ready at six and a half, and finish at seven), he is very hungry and eats a great supper that makes him feel dull and heavy; he re tires long before it can be digested, and, with sleep, every activity of the body is slowed, and the stomach joins the other muscular apparatus in taking a rest. The poor child is wakened with difficulty, and feels worse than before. Very fleshy people may lay aside some of their burden by avoiding the use of sugar, starch and fat, eating very spar ingly of these. Vegetables growing underground increase one’s weight. Remember the fasts that have been un • broken for days and weeks without harm. Lean meat will not increase obesity. •A dropsical swelling may occur al most anywhere, and is to be distinguish ed by its smoothness, natural heat and color, and by the fact that, if firmly pressed upon by the thumb for ten se conds, it leaves the imprint of the thumb for a little time, gradually be coming smooth again. A bandage is useful, after gentle friction for a few minutes. Rest and quiet are useful. But the cause should be determined by a competent person. Among the com mon causes are leaking of the heart’s valves; thinness of the blood, which is sometimes watery (in which case the sufferer is pale and emaciated), and disease of the kidneys. The dropsy it self is not a disehse, but the result of disease. The causes are nearly always mechanical; either there is too much pressure, or the circulating fluid is thin enough to escape through its tubes. The pressure on the veins of the ankle is mechanical—increased when one stands, diminished when one lies down. The heart pushes the blood in jets to the extremities, its return is in a steady stream. Veins have valves that hold the blood above them from settling back, awa> from the heart. Muscular action passes the veins and relaxes them by turns, thus increasing the motion of the blood through the valves. “ Shake'* Telephona. Kim tern Diggers. “The principal mixed drinks used in San Francisco,” said the obliging bar tender of a popular hotel, “ are punches, cocktails, and toddies. It is very seldom that mint juleps are called for. On a warm day there may be some demand for them, but you know how often we have a warm day here. Now, in the East, juleps, smashes, and all sorts of fancy compounds are drunk all the time during the summer. All the bars back there have “giggers” for measuring the ingredients of fancy drinks, but here they are seldom seen.” “ What are these ‘giggers’ ? ” “ I have one here, and I think it Is about the only one in San Francisco. I don’t think you could find another at any of the hotels. He produced the instrument, which an Irishman would probably describe as a small wine-glass made of silver. It had a very small base, and on the side were a number of small marks denoting the oiuuit proportion* of liquors usod in Uu> solemn and important process of com pounding certain fancy drinks. The last place visited was a popular saloon. “No, we have no call for fancy drinks,” said the bartender, as he deftly wiped the glasses and set them on the bar. “ Our customers are all kinds— mining men, bankers and brokers. Whisky punch and cocktails are all the go here.” A party of thirsty men filing up to the bar confirmed his words and the report er departed. * FoMiUin China. “I guess I hare my telephone took out of my house,” said a resident of of the eastern part of the city as lie took a seat beside Manager Jackson the other day. “Anything wrong?” “Yes, eafrytings is wrong,” was the doleful answer. “Perhaps the battery needs more water?” “Vhell, maybe so, but I doan’ keep no track of dot. You see, I vhas down to my peesness a good deal. In der morning, after I vhas gone a leedle while, somepody rings aboudt sixteen hundred times and scares my old vho- man half to death. She asks vho vhas dere, und somepody answers: ‘Hello! Shake, vhas dot you? Say, Shake, how aboudt dot leedle gal dot wrote you dot letter? Ha! ha! ha!’ Und dot makes my vife so madt dot she shumps oop und down und pulls her hair, and vhen I comes home she goes for me like some tigers. Vhas dot der right vhay to put up some shobs on a man?” “No, of course not.” “Und pooty queek after dot somebody else rings oop my house two tousand times, und my vhife almost faints avhav. Vhen she asks who vhas dere somebody answers: ‘Say, Shake, I saw you rid ing oudt mit your vhife on der Lake road last Sunday! Doan’beafraidt— I doan’give him away!’ Und den my vhife vhas madt enough to bust in two, und vhen I comes home she strikes at me mit der teapot. Do you call him telephone convenience?” | |“I call it a shame, sir.” “Vhell, some odder times somepody goes r-r-r-r-ring-ing-ing-ring like tund- er, und my vhife vhas as pale ash a bed- quilt. She tinks dot vhas some Occident to me, or some steampoat blowed oop mit her sister. Her heart beats like it would shump oudt on der floor, and vhen she asks who vims killed tomepody answers: ‘Ish dot Shake? Say, Shake, how much you gif dot policeman to keep sthill on you, eh! Ah! dot vhas a fine racket, Shake, but if der oldt vho- mans drops on it you vhas gone oop like some Gilderoy’s kite!’ Den my vhife she vhas madt some more, und she packs oop her trunks, und she vhas all ready to go vhen I comes home. Vhas dot some more convenience by electrici ty?” “I shall certainly look into this mat ter. Such things must be stopped.” “Und sometimes somepody rings soft ly, slant like cats, und my vhife wants to know who vhas dot. Me! Who vhas me? Katie! Who vhas Katie? Vhy, Shake, doan’ you know dot vidder vhomansyou met on der boat. Say, Shake, how vhas der oldt vhomans to day? Und how vhas dot on me vhen I goes home? Und how can I make der oldt v humans pelief 1 vliaa iu. jaay sal non all der time, und dot I doan’ know some vidder vhomans from a load of hay? I tell you, Misser Shackson, dot telephone preaks oop my family if I doan’ look oudt. Eafeiy day it is ‘Hello! Shake!’ und eafery evening vhen I comes home it is some more crying und talking like T vhas der worst man in Detroit.” He was promised speedy and perma nent relief, and as he backed up stairs to the sidewalk, he said: “Vhell, dot makes me feel like I vhas happy. If somepody vhants to ‘Hello! Shake!’ on me let him come to my saloon. I gif him some telephone convenience so he vhas lame for six months!” A writer in referring to fossils in China, remarks that the Chinese have never advanced a theory to explain their existence. In their books references are made to fossil shells, crabs, fish, trees, etc., but no attempt is made to account for their occurrences in solid rock. The little that is said is mostly of the marvellous sort. Ammonites are petrified snakes: fossil brachiopods -lamp-shells—are called stone swallows and are said to come to life and fly from their hiding places at the approach of wind and rain, changing again to stones on the return of fair weather. Fossil fish appear and disappear at pleasure, and their appearances prognosticates a plentiful harvest and prosperous times. One author supposes that the figures of birds, beasts and plants, which he had seen on certain slabs, must be the work of the gods or devils, for no human hand could chisel anything so minute and delicate. A Youiig Olrl’s Room. A young girl’s room may be furnish ed daintily and in exquisite taste at a small expense. The chief outlay will be for a bedstead. This cannot be con structed out of a pine board and a bit of muslin, though many other things may be; but a handsome painted bed stead of blue and white is the first re quirement of this room. The floor may be covered with plain white mating, or of blue and white plaid, with a soft rug at the side of the bed; a dressing-case of white wood, covered with blue silesia, with white wood washstand is also needed. This, like the dressing- table, should have the under part en tirely concealed by branches of the silesia and muslin. These should be gathered slightly at the top, so that they will fall in graceful folds. The curtains should be of the muslin, diall ed, and the bedspread and pillow covere ot the muslin over silesia also. The bedspread should, of course, lie smooth ly over the bed, and be tucked in at the end and sides, unlike the lace ones, which hang over.* The muslin of the pillow-covers may be shirred at the top and the bottom, if you like the fnll look the shirring gives; they need, in this case, no' edges, and in fact when put over tne snesm praimy, uu hoc t, uu them with lace, unless you add this adornment to tne curtains, but finish with a plain hem. With the various trifling ornaments a young girl gathers about her, the room will receive any thing it may need in color to brighten it. A room so prettily furnished may be a real help to a girl; it will not be easy for her to cultivate disorderly habits there, for the effect she has worked to create would be entirely marred. Tn« South. THE VERDICT -or— THE PEOPLE BUY THE BEST! Mr. J. O. Boaq—Dear Sir: I bought the Oral Dhv <« i. jcii'ue sold by you over live year* ago for my tv a who has given it i' long and fair trial. I sol we 1 pleated wlta it. It never Rlvea any iouj e, ami la aa good aa when tlrat bought. J. W. nonce. Wlnnsbovo, S. C., Aprt. 1888. M'. Boaq: Von wish io know what I have to aay In legard .o. ee Dovs Maonne bou^ u of you three yeaiti ago. I feel i can i aay too much In ita favor. I made aoout $80,no tv. b:n live modtha, at tlmea lUmi'ng .tKo f»8' tin 1 , the nced'e would get per fect'v no . ooi fr.c ,on. I feel l ojfldenl I could not nave < one die name work won aa niuen ease Hiilaowel wo o any ot ter machine. Not me lost lai'junnig a actimema. The bgntest running uiacioae I have ever ireaided. Brother Jamea and VV vita' lanilltea are aa muca pleased with their Drv a M.icu'nea nought or you. I want no better liKico oe. As I aaid before, I don’t think too much cad be said for ire Davis Machine. Respectfully, Ellen stevenbon, Fairfl“ld County, Apr!', 1883. Mr. Boaq: M.v m'chinegives me perfect satis- fact on. 1 dad no .anlt with It. Tne aiiachmenta a e so ample. 1 Wigtt for no better than the Davis Vei ioai Feed. Respejtfu'ly. „ . . Mrs. R. Milling. Fan fleld county, Apn', 1833. Mr. Boaq: I bongat a Davis Vertical Feed ew ng M icr ae fro u yon'ouryee'a ?go. I am elig ■ e Wiui !i. It never has gvea me any i on jle, and has aever been tne leas, oat of order. 11 « pr good as wren I dial oougaiir. I can cnee.in 'y r.co.utmnd 1. Respectfully, Mrs. M. J. Kirei.and. Monticelio, April SO, 18S3. This la to cei tifv ihat I have been using a Daria Vei'..c d Feed Sew ag Machine for over tw > years, parciasedof M . J. O. Josj. I haven’t found It pjsa . sed of an v fault—all the attachments are so a >i lie. it .leverrefnaav to wo K, and ia certainly tni U'jaiest running in the mirket. I consider it a fivai class mac t no. Very respectfa'ly. Minnie M. Willingham. Oakland, Fatrfleld county, 8. C. Thirty years ago tne total value of the Southern crops of cotton, tobacco, rice, hay, hemp and sugar-cane was 1138,605,723. The census report of 1880 shows the Southern farm products were, in the last census year,'valued at $760,000,000, one-third of which was the value of the cotton product, which remains the great staple of the South, whose standing in the markets of the world has not been affected by the East and West Indian, the Brazilian and the Egyptian cultivation. Instead of send ing all the cotton to New England and Old England, the South to-day is loom ing up as the seat of a great cotton ma nufacturing interest, so that the cheap er or coarse grades of cotton cloth are readily made for home consumption, and are competing with the New Eng-_ land mills successfully. —The Albany Penitentiary encloses 776 prisoners, of whom ninety are wo* meR, M" Boaq : i am won p 1 eased n every parucui Wi. i; ic Davis Mao Vue bought of you. 1 think p t -CDs- ma-Mlue tieve. v respect. You know yon sold Severn' mac lines ot tne same make to (MTeient members ot our famdles, all of whom, as fpv as I know, t».e wel 1 p'eaaed w. o them. Kespectiu'ly, Mrs. M. a. Mobi.nr. Fa rfleld coanty, April, 1883. the D*v* f',o. As we take in work, and hare mule the p t,e o' several iiutesover, we oou . want auy 'i u) h ne. It is Riw. ys ready loiioaov kind o' wui«. we tave 'o do. Ro puckermgo. skipping S ' c ies. We conon'ysdv we are well pleased auu wia.i no uetter machine, KATHERINE WVLIE AND SISTER. April *>, 1888., I have no fau'tto dud with my mich ne, and douf wail any .tetter. I have male tie p-ice of ifsevera times oy taking li sewing. It Is always ready to do i's wk. Itnuc it a flrs-class ma chine. I feel X can't aay too much for toe Davis Vertical reed Machine. Mrs. Thomas Smith. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. J. O. Boaq—Dear Sir: It gives me much pleasu.e io test.iy to tne merits of the Davis Ver ne.' 1 Feed Sew ng Mach'ne. The mai hlne I got of yon abou. live years ago. uas been almost lu con- siaoi use eve" atuce that time. I cannot see that it Is woiQ any, and has not cost me one cent for re.'ai.gsmcA we nave had it. Am well pleased aa dou't wish for any be tier. Yours tru’y, Robt. Crawford, Granite Urairy, near Winnsboro S. C. We have used the Davis Ver.lcal Feed Sewing Machiue foi the last five ye.> 8. We would nut have anv o.her make at any price. The machine iiaa given us unb jumleu satisfaci ion. Very respec.fullv, Mrs. W. K. Turner a d Dauqhtbks! Fairfield county, S. C., Jau. *i, 1888. Havm t bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machme iiom Mr. J. O. Boeg some three years a^o, sad it 'laving given me perfect satisfaction in •very res.ieot as a lamily maouiue both for hea-'y rud iigiit sewing, ami never neeued roe least re- p;i r 14 rny way. 1 can oiieerfnl'y .ecommend it to anvonea-a n st-c'.ass machine in every narticu- !.., ami ih nk L scorn I to mine, itiaone ot the s a res. in ;l: uesmade: my ch"d en use it with a!’ease. The ai-achmems ere more easly ad justed ami it doe < a greater range of work by ineaus of its Vet ical Feed than any other ma- cniue I have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas owinqs. Winnsboro, Fairfield county, S. C. We have had one of the Davis Machines about fou> years and save always found It ready to do all kim : s of worn we nave hail occasion to ua Can’t see t art the machine is worn auy, and works as ’****”"" Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson's Creek, Farfleld county, 8. C. Mv wife Is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bough of you. She would not take double want s •• gave for it. The maculae has out been oiu of order since she had it, and she can do any kind of woikon It. Very Respectfully, Jas. F. Free. Monticelio, Fairfield county, S. C. The Davis Sewing Machine Is slmplr a treas ure Mrs. J. a. uoodwtn. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, 1883. J,0 Boaq, Esq.. Agent-Dear Sr: My wife hai iieen us.ug a Dav.s Sewing Machine constam- ) v for i ae past four veal's, auu it a as neve needed aay lepai.a an i works just es well as w ien first bought. S.ie sava It wnl do a g eite: range of pr. ct cal work wnd do .t easier and oerer than anym ci'oesheuas ever used. We cheerfully recommend it as a No. 1 family machine, Your traj. Jab. Q, Davie. Winnsboro, S. C., Jan. 8,1883. Mr. Boaq : I hare always found my Davis Ma chine ready do a! kinds ot to work I have had oc casion to uo. I cannot see that the machine la worn e par dele and it works ss wed as when new. Respectfully, Mas. R. C. Gooding. Winnsboro, S. C., April, 1868, Mr. Boaq : My wife has been constantly nsing the Dav s Machine bought of yon about Eve years ago. I have never regretted Ouy ng U, aa it is always ready for any k ind of family sewing, either heavy or ligaL It 1^ never out of fix or needing '"■'"■""Wfw. Fairfield, 8. C., March, 1888. jpai