Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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r' ===,-==. * -?=? - . , , ? -' V0L.XL1L WINNSBORO, S. C,, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1885. NO. 11. k |S? . A Candid Confession. You ask inc. lovely Ethel, wby I eare for Yourself, and why 1 long your hand to owe. You're very rich, you know, my dear, and therefore I love you fondly for your weaitli alone. Kk I know that I should sav it is your beauty L That o'er my doting heart a speil has thrown, IjpjL Eut I am ir:*.nk; I deem it is my duty To say 1 love ycu for your wealth alone. He * I ought to swear your eyes had wrought my l^*"- That love was wakened by your voice's tone. That hut to chip iinnn vr>-irfnop \vr>c ranture: ? _ But no; I love you for j-our -wealth alone. Suppose"I ?aid I loved you for your manner, Jt mig-ht be true: you fascim?te, I own; But I've enlisted under Mammon's banner* k 1 love you fondly for your wealth alone. W ? My constancy I claim is thus attested; Love bast d on beauty goes when youth has floira^ But if your money is but well invested. J'il love you always lor your wea'th alone. ? Rambler. A SPUING CLEANING. ' i i ?? ' y Fcrr a wboleweek Number two Bred?r:ir;jTi2as, CamberweU New Road, had been turned "upside down and inside out." :is poor Mr. Clavton declared. 4iil! there was no rest for the sole of one's foot," ami each morning as ho w' st:i:!<>d to catch Ins train . at KenningJf ' ton-Church with his son, he vowed that never again would he undergo the agonies of "a spring clean." But the afti-rnoon of the last day at length arjKv _ riwil, and Mrs. Clayton and WiniKv * frt?K her daughter, with their ono pji. f servant, were busy as bees putiing tho fini-hing touches to the household arT * r::ii_r<*ments, though it must be said ' that Winnie, who had just finished her last term at boarding-school, and who was not yet fairly domesticated, was a ^^tfnTornameutal than useful element However, she had uot been idle, and a1 hiit all,was finishod, and rather tir|lr cil and flushed with her exertions, Winnie went upstairs after a somewhat inaKcsnui uinner wuu tuu uest mteuI tions possible of clearing out; the closet in her room. II it had beeu a linen-closet, or a china-closet, or a preserve closer, or anything bat the-closet it was, there is '0 no idling what Winnie might have a<jV ^ compli'shed. y " But those four rows of dresses. hanging smoothly down from their respective pe^s,. proved fatal. They were dresses of her aate-boarding v school period, sand she liad had hardly a glimpse of -them for two years or ' more. ^ Trying them on eniuo next, in the natural course of affairs. it was au amusiug process. They were woefully out ot style, most of them buttoned behind, none of them. A reached below the tops of her shoes; rW hut it wac very absorbing, and she ~r could3iiardly befitfre her ears when she heard iier'inothcr "calling to her up the airs ftf come down to tea. ; She was arrayed*- at-that moment in a white spotted muslin, which she remembered to have worn for the first time on her fourteenth birthday. ~ It. had a sash .which tied in an imgosI , ing bow behind; it had a row of white m pearl buttons down the back; and it f' was several*inches shorter than?sup1 j posing there had been anybody to obRprvn?wonld have been strictly desir able. Winnie giggled. A sadden idea iiad struck her. She palled"out her hairL " - pins hastily, braided her hair in a long Bt< taS, and tied it with a blue ribbon; ; she had discovered a string of coral beads, in her drawer?she had worn it W at the ago of six?and put it on; and then she giggled again delightedly, and went downstairs. Her little plan was, to a curtain extent, highly successful. Her lather looked at her with cxact8* ly the degree of bewilderment she had lisE _ anticipated; her mother set dowu tho ^ teapot aud gazed ;?t her in just tho as I tonisnecf,- uuii-Tcruanitracmg' way snohad ^imj >vu^o: wyu|d doj, jUfS^-Jbrpther . George emitted the explosive chuckle sae had expected. But there her triumph ended- ' -?' Eor uext her own vacant place, V ^ spreading his napkin across his' knee, and regarding her calmly from a pair i of "handsome Woe eyes, * there sat a vonng man whom she had never seeaj; x before. ; Under ordinary circumstances Win- t / nje-woald rjjare becnl rather. gratified 5 thafl^otlierwise at the unexpected ap- ^ pearahce-of a nice-looking young ' ' ^ man. ^But now. the blood rushed to her f?cc in toiyejftts, her breath, came' in gssns; tnc iisrttt turiv aancea oeiore Tlire was nothing to be done. ,Sbe ? ^ was ha^wj^-across the roam; they W' were alf looking at her; the precipir . tate -Sight wftich she had meditated gk forvH- wfltf moment was not to be H thought of. J #. She clutched -a friendly chair to steady herself, darted a fierce glance at (yeorge,;?vlio was stuffing his napkin into his mouth, ami advanced as ma** jestically as her limited skirts would. ^ allow. _ . *?My friend, Tom Bradley. You're > r*\o ??i\aol',Af Kim Wirvn.1/) \fv uvmu UJV vi uiuu) M IUUJV? J sister," said George from behind his napkin. Mr. Bradley turned bis blue eyes upx on the figure at bis side. ' It had twisted its chair away from him as far as possible; it was'bending r?" low over its plate; it was evidently bashful. A The young man smiled paternally. "Doyou go to school?" he began, in * the patronizing tone yonng men as^ same toward smalt girls. Winnie murmured something inaudibly;?George gavo a violent snicker, and covered it hastily with a cough. Tom Bradley, bciug a kind-hearted fellow, and unwilling to see anybody T7n<v>mfortablp_ talked intinstrionslv ta Lis timid neighbor, in the hope of" reY # lieving her i-mharassment, though she was certainly the most diffident child W he had ever sven. But he observed? and it was an unusual thing, he said to himself, in girls at that interesting age?that she was decidedly pretty. "Well, we're very good friends already, aren't we?" he said cncourag, in?:ly, as they arose from the table. 9 1'here was no response other than a sudden swish through the air of a brown braid tied with a blue ribbon, and a glimpse of a short, white skirt flying through the door.. What a peculiar little girl she was! 6l~ If he had seen her at that moment. r probably he wouia . _ more peculiar. She had rushed upstairs and into her own room, locked the door, thrown herself on the bed, and commenced what the giris at school call a "good cry." f - If he had been old, or ugly, or disagreeable?if he had been anything but the soft-voiced distractingly good-looking fellow he was?she could have borne it with fortitude. Why had George brought him at > that dreadful time? Why had she hit y upon this particular day for that idiotic performance? Why was he not redhaired or cross-eyed, or?something? She would not have minded it in the L m--h least in that ease. * There was a tap at the door, and she heard George's*voice, not yet quite composed, begging her to let him in. His mirth disappeared before the woe-begone little person who opened the door to him, and stood mopping her eyes. "Ob, well, now!" he began, comfortingly, "you don't mean to say you're broken up like this about a little thing like that?" "A little thing!" cried Winnie, chokingly. "Oh, George! what?what will he think?" "Never mind what he'll think." _ ?J n - * 1__ i.Ti. J saia vxcorge, caiiniy. "it was a goou joke, and that ought to be enough for you." That? did not seem to console Winnie. She only sobbed into her handkerchief the more wildly. "Why did you brin<r him?" she murmured, iu a heart-broKen way. "Why didn't you bring somebody that wasn't so?so nice?" ' Oil. weU," he observed, trying to speak in an off-hand way, "don't worry about it! he's?he's married!" The sobs ceased. But, strange to say, the face which lifted itself from the handkerchief was not exactly radiant. Itsocmcd disappointed. "Xfurinrl f" \Vit>r>w? in nil . .. - ~r injured tone. "Good gracious!" said the bewildered young man. "Don't that suit yon? "Don't be rude!" said his sister severely. The sight of so much dignity, in combination with the coral necklace and the juvenile dress was too much for George. H? clung to the door ia another paroxysm of mirth. "You've got to come down, you know," he gasped, wiping his eves. "Put on something decent, and come down and paralyze him. What do you care?" Winnie wavered. After all. what did she care? He was marriod! Half an hour later. Tom. Bradley, Tftflnino- no^incf. t.h#> in th<? Hr.-iw I ing-room, and listening to George's I rendering of the latest popular air, was roused by the sound of a foytstcp I on the uncarpeted floor, and startled by the appearance of a graceful and ! extremely pretty young lady ia a blue | dress. He was astonished at the familiar i smile sh'j gave him; he was astonished at the way in which George whirled about on the piano-stool, and grinned, without introducing them; and then, as he looked more closely at the pretty apparition, he became aware of the startling truth. Winnie's composure, which had begun to desert her, returned in full force, as the young man dropped ; hi?>VA<5 ?it"? studied thr> haro floor in evident confusion. She sack on the sofa calmly, arranged the folds of her dress becomingly, and begged her brother, sweetJy to continue his song. Til let him know 1 don't care." she said to herself triumphantly. "Married?the horrid thing!" "Are you as fond of music as of? dolls?" the young man ventured, breaking the silence at last. " Almost," said Winnie, with a laugh. _ And the conversation,' with this small start drifted on gayly. It struck her, as they talked on, that Mr. Bradley, for a married man, was?well?not well-behaved. He kept his eyes fixed on her in an admiring way; the tone of his remarks ?half bantering, wholly complimenta ry?was nigniy improper under the circumstances. He had edged nearer and nearer to her, until there was no appreciable space between them. Winnie felt that something must be done. Sho went to the piano hastily, and.played a- lew meaningless notes with desperate speed. Mr. Bradley followed promptly, and leanedrover'her with an-air of profounds joymenL "Doesfe Mrs. Bradley play?" said Winnie, frigidly* "Mis; Bradley?" her - companion repeated, smiling inquiringly, and le;?ijng.ratSBer-IowoK: "Your wife ! "said Winnie, scry'eite"Obvbufc I haven't oneT* said tfec ^tafi-iookect-.^up at iim; quickly, and immediatelyJooked down again. one," "-Mr*- Bradley repeate$Sa#}j7 "but IV&bc^' thinking TA> V Kft ?PT- ttronfT. Uof 1 ' / 1 Wi 1U1UIWWV kUAb X U like on^1mn?n?eljv-tf?. ' The-*ecoliecii<>h that she had known Mr..BacOl^>ireiy aa hour aid a half caused Winme'tS tnrn away frois him hastily.aa^commeaco.a noisy polka. But when she got up to lief room that nighty at "a rather late hour, and sank on the edge of the bud, staring with unseeing eyes at tho white muslin, lying where she had left it in a heap on the floor, the thought did run vaguely through her mind" that per-' haps she had helped, or hindered, her mother for the last time." And Tom Bradley was of' the same opinion. A National Memorial Stone. It is proposed to bare a natural monument to Gen. Grant on Mt Gregor. , Down near the mountain station is a rustic covered lookout which is called the Eastern Lookout From its platiorm one has a wide view of the Hudson Valley for miles. This was tho placc last visited by Grant when he made that memorable journey in his invalid chair from the Drexcl "cottage, ; am (LHAA k/% 1 WWU KJL LUJLUi/ IttlJ O WlUiU ZiV UIUU. the right of this lookout is a great overhanging rock. 1c is proposed to trim offthc undergrowth in front of it; then chisel off its face and cut there, in letter thirty feet in hight, the namo , "Grant." This will be the only inscrip- j tion except possibly tho simple date of : his death. Mr. Droxel has subscribed , $250 towards this monument?New j York World. ( a m j Down in Maryland a few days ago a , wood-chopper, who could neither read, write nor cipher, lxanded a curious account of a month's work to his em- j ployer. The account was nothing more nor less than a long, smooth ' hickory cane, with twenty-four nicks 'J in it. Every nick stood for a day's ^ work, and the score tallied with that kept by the employer. This is a sur- ? viva! of one of tho oldest of existing . English customs, und it is by no , means uncommon in the South and West, "He loved her out of all w nicks," says a character in "Tsic Two ^ Gentlemen o? Verona," meaning past ; all accounting. mm 1 The deepest sea soundings known were made in the Pacific, where the < line reached down 4,575 fathoms, and J off the cast coast of Japan 4,600 fath- ] oms. Thus it seems that the greatest | heights of mountains and the greatest J depths of the occau correspond very ( nearly. j SCENTKY. Simmer Scenery C<>nt:a -ciiiMy and ^E>;thetically C mi<:,I -ri-!. This has been. 0:1 the whole, a very good season for "scenery." It has varied in price fr<>m two ilollars and a half a day for a quiet article to live dollars for the broadest ami best. A resort with "a full line 0; s-c^n.'ry** is. of course, expensive; that is. ono th it combines luoun'ains. valleys, w iter, hamlets, rocks, en-cudes. islau Is. wnter-falls. It is u'.llic-.i.t t <rx.ie ly what scnory i> in tiiu{>o;>ii(ur urn.I. OtU ail are a<jlv?M mai it is an hu.im; otic must go away irom homo to sr--t. It seems to bo t.ie general notion that, it is a view, ami with many tlio word means a wide and distant prospect. The commercial gentleman who was iooking oft' from the -platform of the Kaaterskill House, and remarked Uiat it was the best place for scenery he knew, came very close to a goo.I popular delinition. With him it was a large prospect. The idle traveler is often asked whether ho is fond of scmery. And the question is an embarrassing one. He may never have thought of it in that light. He is fond ot beefsteak; perhaps he does not liko to confess his love for things iesthetic. The Drawer .> /?!?o > ??'; ...r ,rif! in tint P!..t.;L-ilU who said that she was very fond of scenery, and she liked nature too. Both sccncry ami nature she would go a great ways to see. and the inference was that they couldn't bo had at home. Perhaps scenery in her mind was associated with a hotel, and a number of young gentlemen in fancy walking costume. And, whatever scenery is,there is no doubt that it is vastly improved by the presence of young ladijs in gay toilets. In fact, you may take an ordinary landscape, or a common brook with a twenty-live cent water-fall? that is, a fall that it costs a quarter of a dollar to turn on?or a piece of open woods with sunlight flickering on the ground and on the boles of the trees, or a tree-encircled lake with row-boats, and introduce the female figure,groups of girls in those engaging attitudes that nature teaches them, or pairs of lovers in the pret ly self -consciousness of young affection, and you have what is probably tne best article 01 scenery in the world. A:id yet this sort of tin tig is not that usually recogti-z.-d :is scouery. The effect of scenery upon differ cut persons is worth the student's attention. Let him take hi* seat before some recognized piece of "scenery," like that from the Catskill height just spoken of, and watch the effect ot it upon those who come to look at it. The fat traveler who arrives perspiring seems to appreciate the value of it. He removes nis hat and mops his forehead, and looks about with an expression of delight in the vastness of the prospect. His eye roves at once over all the States of the Union in sight, lie seems to weigh the view in his mind for its size, but he wastes no time on it. He ' remarks that that is the scenery for him, and then abandons it in search of a cooling drink. Then comes the dominie school-master in a long-skirted broadcloth coat, a severe man, with half a dozen of his scholars. He waves his hand over the whole view with the ?;? nf imii-irtinor iiifi.ntl-if inn tn f.hfi *" ""1 O ? young: that is tiio Hudson River, that is Connecticut, tiiat is Massachusetts, that is Vermont, wo are in 2sTew York ?it is a gigantic lesson in geography, and the boys follow him away as soon as they have learned it. There, again, is a rather battered-looking middleaged man reciiuiug an the edge of the cliff?what does he see? A panorama of his life? Probably not. iewpeoplc arc given to musing on their past, lie enjoys the repose of the landscape, the faint rattle of wagons, or the eiaag of a railway train coining up from four or five miles away, tiio shadows on the immense plaiu, which is marked olT in irregular plots of meadow and grain and woods, the gleam of the river?a monotonous pieiure full of variety too far removed to make a distinct impression?the sort of view that requires nothing but a lazy mind. And these two young girls in muslin,arms around eachother'3 waists?no, not exactly young, but young for school-marms, | tno shv fnr ahsolutft vouth?sauntering i along the edo;e of tho precipicc, expressing gemxine rapture over the prospect. It must bo confessed that their figures in silhouette against the sky have an artistic valae. Nobody can tell how much they really sec, but doubtless more than another, couple who have just stepped out across the platform, and stand in an attitude of observation. Pretty soon, however, they are looking at cach other, and if they get any view at all of the landscape, it is as reHected in each other's eyes. There is no landscape in the world equal to that, if the eyes are pretty, that is, if they reflect well. I Are these lovers on a wedding tour? How charming the scenery is to them! ; She is sitting down now on a rock,pulling to pieces a wild azalea, with her eyes downcast, and lie, seated on a rock at her feet, is looking up at her. Talk about seeing four States at once and a hundred villages and the Hudson River! This young gentleman sees the whole world; and the charming girl ; who has entangled him with her long : eyelashes knows it as well as he does. This is an appreciation of scenery that goes to the heart- They never will forget this view all their lives. If the young lady is asked to describe it when , she goes home, she will not be able to make half as good a description of it as the fat man, but how much more she saw and felt! The fat man just carried J away with him a map, but this girl? | Heaven be kind to her?has gone away with a piece of scencry in her heart ' that all mankind desire, and that life ' would be very poor without. We have ^ seen some travelers who say they pre- j fer the seashore to scenery. This is a mere matter of taste. What the Draw- . sr prefers is the eyes of the young lady j that have the power of transmuting , everything into beaut}.?Charles Duo- j ley Warner, in Harper's Magazine for September. 1 ( Among the Hints of chalk formation i s occasionally found one that emits a ( dear musical sound when struck with < mo;her lliut. A Frenchman has just i ucceeded in making a "piano" from y iicso musical stones. The Hints arc uspcudcd by wires above a sounding ] >oard, and are played by two other i liuts. The stones of the piano num- ] >er twenty-six, forming two chromatic t staves, and were collected with much : latient labor, during a period of thirty 1 ears. There seems to be ifo relation I >eiween the sizes of the stones and i heir tuues. I W. S. Conant, an inmate of the Con- ^ Dord, X. H., Asylum, was made violently insane, it is believed, by remorse because he deserted from the army in ?. .UV M U1 A A AO TVlVkU CV> ? President Cieveiand, asking the man's j. iischarge, and has just received it. It t s thought the news will save his life. Indian Italic5". A farther examination of Mr. Richmond's relic collection, writes a Canajoharie, N. Y., correspondent of the Albany Journal, showed hanging over the door a line card of arrows, spears, knives, and scrapers, from the banks of the Conjrarec river, North Carolina. In form and material they are 'quite like many heretofore described. (Tiiey aro arranged in the form of the symbol of the holy trinity. On ihc casing of the door, covering almost the entire space to the floor, hang grooved axes; they are of various sizes and material, nearly all in a <rood state of presorva tioc. Many States ana territories arc represented, one of the most perfect being from the cliff dwellings of Arizona It is symmetrical in form, fids a good catting edge, so made from grinding down from both sides, with a deep groove running entirely around it. In size it is about six inches -'bug by three wide. Another, about4"lho samo size, is from K-insas, and I note a very largo one from Michigan, unusual in form and not worked to as sharp an edge as those spoken of above. I. stead of being grooved 'His so formed by depression on the sides that it could easily be held in placc by a withe. The material resembles granite. In size it is ten inches lonij by four in breadth. Some arc thick, heavy, and seemingly clumsy, while others arc so small as to give an idea that they were intended for ornaments rather than use. Many of them are made with the sides alike, while several have one side square, that is they arc straight down from the head of the ax to the blade. Others have a groove down one side. The object of making them in this manner is that a wedge may be insert cd for the purpose of tightening the withe. The manner of holding the ax. that was made with rounded sides, or, as before stated, with sides alike, was to Insert the ax in a split in a small growing tree, allowing it to remain there until the wood had closed tightly around tho groove. Another method was to insert a strong withe in the groove, letting it follow around the ax, bringing the ends together, when they were lirmly lushed by means ci deer sinews or thongs of buckskin. Grooved sixes were extensively used in deadening i'orest trees and bruising the outer liber near the roots, so that fires kindled around them might the more readily eat into tho trunks and insuro their early fall, also removjng the charred surface from time to time, thus affording fresh fuel for tho flanies. Often the head of the ax is splintered or bruised, which indicates that they were used as clubs or wedges for splitting wood, in the latter case the edge being placed and held in position by the wooden handle. The ax was driv cn into the wood by blows struck upon its head by some other object of wood or stone. In parts of this country the grooved ax is found in goodly numbers, cither in graves, upou the sites of old villages or in cultivated fields. In this immediate section I do not think any hara been found; noither do I thhrfc"'in^" New York has ever furnished many. To my knowledge I do not now think of but two. They are also very rare in Europe; in fact but one or two arc known to have been found there. What makes this seem singular is that so many objects are found in all parts of the world that are similar in shape to those found at great distances from each other. Axes more than anything else seem to differ in form in different countries. While this country had am 4 -m-r A 4 /WWAATTA/) ft Vitfl l ? /4 pic lit J ui ^tuurou utvu none, and the perforated ax found there is not known here. In almost everything elso used by primitive man, the world over, a similarity in form of objects existed, for instance, arrow and spear heads, celts, gouges, bone awls, beads, pottery, mortars, pestles, chisels, etc. What a Real Herman is Like. "The wind being easterly, we had thirty fathoms of water, when at ten o'clock in the morning a soa monster like a man appeared near our ship.first on the larboard, where the master was, who took a erapplins iron to pull him up; but our captain, named Oliver Rlorin, hindered him, being afraid that the monster would drag him into the sea. The master, Lemone, struck him on the back to make him turn about, that he might view him better. The monster, being struck, showed his face, having his two hands closed as if he had expressed some anger. Afterwards he went round the ship, and, when he was at the stern, he took hold of the helm with both hands, and we were obliged to make it fast lest he should damage it. "From thence ho proceeded to the starboard, still swimming as men do. When he came to the fore part of the ship, he viewed for some time the figuro that was on our prow, which represented a beautiful woman, and then ho rose out of the water as if he had been willing to catch that figure. All this happened in the sight of the wholo crew. "Afterwards lie camo again to the larboard, where they presented to him a codfish hanging down by a rope; he handled it without spoiling it, and then removed the length of a cable, and Dame again to the stern, where he took hold of the helm a second time. "At that very moment Captain Morin got a harping iron ready, and took it himself to strike him with it; but, the cordage being entangled, ho missed his aim, and the harping iron only just touched the monster, who turned about, showing his face as he had done before. Afterwards he returned to the bow and ?azed again at the figure on the prow. "The mate called for the harping iron, but he was frightened, fancying Lhat this monster was one La Comcuune, who had killed himself in the >hip the year before, and had been ihrown into the sea in tho same passlge. He was contented to push his jack with the iron. "The monster had the boldness to ;akc a rope held up by two sailors, who irew him partly up the side, but he 'ell into the water again,and then withdrew to the distance of a gunshot. Ho :ame again alongside afterwards,swam round the ship, and then made off, and >ve have never seen him since. "The 'merman' was about eight feet ong; Ins skin was Drown anu Lawny, without any scales; aii nis motions were ike those of men; the eyes of a propor.ionablc size, a little mouth, a large ind flat nose, very white teeth, black lair, the chin covered with a mossy >eard, a sort of whi^ers under tho lose, the ears like those of men, litis >etween the fingers of his hands, and eet like those of ducks. In a word, 10 was a well-shaped man." , The craze in Santa Barbara, CaL, is o grow English walnuts. It is said < hat four-fifths of the fruit trees will ; >e dug up, and walnut trees planted in i heir stead. i ROMANCE OF A It I AT A. How a Brmfm Sopimmori' 15 *cu:n<* a Cowboy and Won j? BrFiL-*. The movements of a real cowboy on Kearney s.trcct .attmct?d attention yesterday. He slooth nearly six fuel in bis boots, and his regular fc:tttires and blonde mustaehu jjavu his face an aspect of beauty fully in keeping with his handsome proportions. Iiis attire was that of the vaquero, consisting of buckskin trousers, a woolen shirt fastened at the throat with a carelesslyknotted silk handkerchief, a coarse chinchilla sack coat, and broad-rimmed felt hat of the sonii>ivro pattern. An Alia reporter learned his name and I * IT* T-* 1 1 XT I nisiory. ins name wus .auwaru in. Willcts, and six years ago he was at college, when he received peremptory orders from his father, a wealthy Boston merchant, to enter the theological j class and lit himself lor the ministry. Tiie command came like a iininderbolt to the happy-go-lucky young fellow, who had aiways S-elievt d himself destined to follow his father in business when the latter should lie ready to retire. A quarrel with his pore was the result, and the young fellow suddenly left for the west. At Cneyenne he laid over for a short hunt on the plains. The wild life of the cowboys caught his fancy. Salary proved little object, and he had little difficulty in attaching himself to a big ranch tinLil he had mastered his new vocation. Finally he drifted through portions of Montana, Nebraska, Da kota, Idaho, Nevada, and finally into Oregon and California. The opening of tho summer found him enlaced with three or four comrades in driving a small band of steers over tiie Santa Cruz mountains. CaLlle in tiie mountains are not pleasant objects to deal with- Every unruly steer that broke from tiie band required an hour's chasing up and down steep slopes, over rocks and fallen trees,, and through the spiteful brush. Toward the end of the drive the steep bluffs that line the road on cither hand kept the steers in fairly good order, and only occasionally did an unusually juicy bunch of grass tempt somo hungry one to boit up the slope .or into the canyon below. It was an occasion of this sort that sent Willets careering among the brakes and ferns on the slope above. A cliasc of half a mile had seen the truaut return to the road, and Willets was skirting the edge of the bank some distance in advance of the drove in search of a safe placo to descend, when in the middle of the narrow road ho saw a lovely girl. The drove was thundering down on her, and promising to soon crush her young life out beneath their pon<fotv\na wninrJtf* irtr tho nri?*l seemed impossible. From the road to where Willett's horse stood was a wall of rock full twenty feet in height, and ! below to the bed of the stream was a sheer descent of double that distance. Fur only a second was the horseman ; inactive. Then with the speed born oi long practice he lifted his trusty ! rawhide riata from the horn of his sad- ; die and threw it "Put -that under 'j our arms Miss," was Willcrt's hasty ] injunction. It was obeyed, and not a ; moment too soon the girl was lifted ! above the heads and horns of the on- J commg cattle. When they were well by Willetts slowly slacked down until his "catch" dropped sol tiy to the earth. Five minutes later, when lie managed to iind ' a pathway uowu and reached the subject of his daring bit of horsemanship, sue was lying iu the dust ia a faint. When she recovered he learned that 1 she too was from Boston, and with her lather and mother was spending the " summer amid Culiiornia's most l:?v\>red j spots, 'i ne old gentleman, her fal-Uer, ' w:is Jii?rhiv dvi;ghted when lie learned of WiliuLLs* identity, as he soon tliil. "His daughter foolishly placed a high J ralue on my little servicr," explained 3 Willetls, buisuing, "and when 1 saw ! iiow she had overestimated it i meanly ' demanded tin: largest reward 1 could ' think of. The details were settled yesterday, and I came up by the even- ' ing train to lit myself for her society. J She swears that 1 look liko an angel in ' my woolen shirt and buckskin trous- ' ers, but I will try and get her nsed to mc in civiliz *d garb, for a vaquoro's dress is hardly the thing for resfhetic Boston."' [ "Are y-m iroing back?"' Yes, in September. Wo shall tour 1 Yosemite as man and wife, and then ] ? i 1. i vr? e.. 11 i ! uactw Junuu. iujf latui-i-iu-iaw aajd that ray father has long been anxious to have nit; come home, and that he will set me u;> if the old gentleman doesn't, so I think I had better go."? San Francisco A la. ^ ^ Why Markets are Failures. "Markets are not the same to-day as they were twenty and thirty years ago." said a veteran marketman, who had retired from business, to a reporter for the New York Mail and Express, j "The housewives n'wavs went to the . " / J market to lay in u?eir week's stock- ^ Me:it, butter, vegetables, cheese, eg^s, < everything was boiiir'?t in the market, j Tea, coffee, and such gr< ceries were ^ bought near tlie market. Men would come a lon<r distance with a big basket, ^ which they would have lillud before leaving. Women would also appear t with a similar accompaniment The J best part of a workwoman's wages would be expended on a Saturday night in the market. 'J he wife would then * know that she had food enough laid in for the week. The husbaud would know . how much ho had for spending money. Now this is all changed. Tho market . is about the last place the majority of 1 housekeepers visit, and if it were not for the restaurants the city might al- | most shut up tho markets. Some are already virtually closed. Where is the crlorv of Centre. Essex. Union. Clinton, C.itharine, Manhattan, and other mar- 5 kets that were famous in their .day? ^ Some have been torn down and the ground devoted to other occupation* [ Two have become police' stations, be- ^ cause they were city property. I allude to Franklin and Union markets. * Two have become large depots for Chi- j cago slaughterers, i mean Jmsox and { Centre markets. Several have disap- J peared and their sites built upon, tone- J ment-liouses and stores taking their ^ places. And oven those that remain \ are hardly worth being called markets c in the sense they once were." v 'What has been the causc of the 1 change?" a "One reason is the groccry stores, ^ where housekeepers can goat any time, ! keep everything. Many of them sell ^ even meat, and nearly all of them deal 7 in poultry. They arc "near by the hous- J. es of the people. They are kept in good order, and are cleanly. The plan of I wholesale houses making up coffee, 1 spices and many other things in neat r packages, with guaranteed weight or * measure, lias induced nouseneepers to ~ deal with grocery stores nearby. Smart ^ storekeepers found out the advantage 3 of keeping everything, and now a gro- J eery store is a small market oi ilsalf." ^ THOUGHTS FOR THE MONTH. TIMELY TOPICS FOE THE CONSIDERATION OF PROGRESSIVE FARMERS. What Work Should be Done Daring the Month of October?Valuable Sncestlona from High Authority. ( W. L. Jones in Southern Cultivator). in our last, tne importance or covering onr fields with growing crops through the winter was discussed at some length. Increased acreage in oats, barley, and especially rye, wheat also grasses and clovers, was earnestly advocated. The more we reflect upon the matter, the greater its importance impresses us. It is not too late yet in much of the cotton 'belt to start these crops, and for this reason it is again brought to notice. In the coldest porion of the cotton belt wheat sowing will begin this month, and rye and barley may be seeded down well into next month. Abnndant opportunity, therefore, exists to do this convervati?g work. We are trying to improve our lands: every" wide-awake farmer is diligently husbanding and Kauimjug iiiiiLci iciio IUI WUI^USU^J it'i us not neglect the means of holding 011 o the fertility already acquired. In machinery a ratchet-wheel is all im>ortant?its equivalent is not less so ii agriclultore. We cannot afford to ose anything \vc have gained; whatever manurial elements the present 3rop has failed to utilize must be held in reserve for succeeding crops. Tins is just as necessary as the annual application of new doses of plant food. We are not unmindful of the cost ot <eed and of seeding under the propos;d arrangement. Let us study every aeans ior reduciug it; economizing power or labor is a great desideratum In our farming. If called upon to lingle out the mostimportant item jnst' low in the line of progress, we would anhesitatingly selcct economy of pow$\ Our ^mechanical appliances are not equal to the demands of the time or ?f our surroundings. We do not substitute horse-power iu place of human muscle sufficiently, and we fail tn <r??f fh/? full henpfif. of hnrsp nnwpr by making it work through inadequate or imperfect implements. We have been studying fertilizers very diligent- i ly dnring the last fifteen years; we are pretty well advanced in "the chemistry < of the fttrm. Let us concentrate our 1 thoughts now for awhile on the i mechanics of the farm; let us find out how to produce the greatest with the ] least labor. Consider what a revolution in onr farming the general intro- : duction has brought about. Who i would go back to the shovel and scoot- : er in the ^cultivation of a crop? But ( has the sweep, or its better substitute, ; the scrape, exhausted our ingenuity or set bounds to useful contrivances? It i is, or should be, but the beginning of a i thorough .revolution in the mechanical . appliances of the farm. In the prepa- : ration of land our ingenuity has not < advanced beyond the gathering up aud j burning of precious vegetable matter ] to get it out of the way, or else with a ] turn-plow of burying it in one thin < continuous sheet several inches below < the surface. Neither of these are at I all desirable. Implements are needed l which shall cut up and comminute i weeds, grass, stubble, stalks or what 1 not, ana leave them in condition for i iny form of plow desired to mingle t rrr k f ka CA*1 Tlift 1 LU^IIJ UUiiVl 1AJ11/ trifrftl CUU. JkUV I icrew pulverieer, the Disc harrow, etc., are the beginnings in this directien. Such implements, if perfected and prodded wilh seeding attachments, would make the putting in of grain and ?rass a very light * job. A man and four horeses could put in eight or ten icres a day. Contrast this with the 5ld style of man and horse and scooter Snishing up one a day. Profit is the difference between cost Df production and gross sales, and cheapness of production is more apt to i)ring godd profits than large yields svith heavy expense account. But meanwhile, until the necessary implements are perfected, let us do the best tve can with such as we have. Donblesbovels, sweeps, cultivators., harrows, judiciously used arc decided improve- ^ ments on single-shovels and scooters, ] ind a diligent farmer can, with these, { 50 w down a very large quantity of land j from the first of September to' the first t }f December. 1 Of the various anti-leaching crops, s rye aud burr clover are the most prom ? sing, aud the reader is urged to take r ;he necessary steps now to raise an ibundance of seed of each of them for 3ext year's use. Home-raised seed , joinparativelv little; why should a . rarmer pay from one to one and'a half , loiters per bushel for rye, when he, , jan raise it for fifty cents a bushel or" ess, just because a majority neglect to c sow rye, and have to pay whatever the i few who do raise it choose to ask? ^If ? the practice of sowing rye on our bare j ands should become general, seed rye ' vould go a begging. But all not leeded for sowing could be profitably . fed to stock; ground rye is a most ex:elledt horse food, and the superfluous jrain, together with the abundant pas- , wage afforded by the practice advo:ated, would more than" pay the ex- f )ensesofit. * e Partly for the work of conservation . md partly for the value of the crop j teelf to the farcer's family and labor- ^ srs, the sowing of wh?at recoirimeeds tself. "We are fally aware that the :otton belt is not the home of the wheat ^ )lant, and that only the hardier varie- ' ies of it can there be grown with reaouable hope of profit. Red, bearded arieties, like the Mediterranean, arc nost to be relied on, and early matnr- , tr is a matter of prime importance. iVheat raising in the cotton belt fnrlishes an instance where extremes arc , >etter than the proverbially safe means. Jest profits come either from a few ** icres not fertilized at all and very ? ightlv seeded. In view of the desira- , )ility of having growing crops on as . arge areas as possible during winter, he practice of sowing from a half >nshel to three pecks of seed per acre, vithout manure and with least expenliture of labor, is probably upon the rhole preferable to the intensive ar- , angement where one has an abund- , ,nee of land. It was a good deal in rogue before the late war; without , >revious preparation of soil, the seed ras sown and plowed in. In good rheat years fair crops was harvested; n adverse seasons failures followed, ihe cost of seed is small, and if the (lowing in is done with a wide cutting " mpleraant, like an Acme or Disc har- P ow, the labor expense is small likerise. The highest and driest soils honld be,selected for wheat?red land letter than gray. Mucky soils, or uch as abound in organic, are, as a nle, unsuited to this crop; lime soils est of all. In the olden time, cotton seed and Peruvian guano were regarded as the best manures for wheat and where one wishes to fertilize heavily, the substances named furnish "an excellent clue to the wants of the crop; both, in the first place, are highly nitrogenoas manures. Universal experience confirms the indispensabilitv of this substance to a wheat crop; it must have a fall supply of available nitrogen to produce laage yialds. But tEe two articles mentioned contain in addition to nitrogen a fair supply of phosphates and test experiments have given additional proof of the value of phosphoric acid to wheat. Five hundred pounds of acid phosphate to an acre would supply liberal quantities of the. substance most needed by a wheat crop, aud ought, under favorable conditions, to produce large yields. Both of these fertilizers may be plowed or harrowed in with the seed. In high culture the surface soil should be brought into the finest tilth before the seed is sown, bv repeated plowings, rollings and harrowing?, and especially if the seed are harrowed or brushed in, a good rolling: should follow and complete the work.. The "firming" of the surface soil is done by the roller makes" the seed come up more uniformly and gives vigor to the young plants by preventing to^free exposure of their roots to air and dampness. Whether land for wheat should be very deeply broken in our climate admits of doubt. As we all know, the ,vorst enemy of wheat is the red rust, and this is more apt to attack a crop oil damp than on dry land. Hence a dry May is so favorable to wheat. But a deeply broken soil, and especially one filled with humus, dries ofl much more slowly in the spring than a shallow, broken one; there comes iuc uan^ui uccp ui uax\ . Moreover, as the soil and subsoil are usually wet in winter and therefore soft and penetrable by roots, there is the same necessity of deep breaking for winter crops that there is for those of summer. Hoots can work their way quito readily through unbroken soil in the early spring while it is wet and soft, and a wheat crop is generall matured before the ground gets 60 dry as to be very hard. Perhaps the best time to sow wheat is a week or so before the average date of a killing frost; this, of course, varies with different localities. In the northern portions of the cotton belt, it is not far from the 2oth of October; towards the Gulf it approximates the middle of November. From the middle of October to the middle of November, or even the first December covers the period of wheat sowing. The Hessian fly and other insects are not likely to injure a crop which comes up after a killing frost. But for these insect enemies, wheat might be sown earlier with corrcsponping hastening in the spring, with more likelihood of escaping rust. The early settlers of Middle "Georgia, we are "told, someiraes sowed" wheat in August and made fine erops, and it would be well to try on a small scale early sowing i#ain. On rich laira sucli sowings might come forward too rapidly and shooting np, before hard freezes, might *et killed. This might be obviated by light grazing. On poor land there is little danger in this direction; hence 3ue should make the earliest sowings i>f all kinds of all kinds of grains on :he poorest lands and finish up with ;he richest. Oats, sown on poor land is early as the last of Angnst, are not ikely to head out before frost; but if n anv binH nf <rr*in -ininfinty threatens o begin by the 1st of November or before, a little judicious gracing with 5alves or sheep in dry weather will emedy the trouble. October is usually a dry month aud rery favorable to the housing of crops, rhi's work should now be pushed forward with energy; everything keeps )etter when put away in bulk, if the lir is dry at the time it is bulked. Horn is now fully dry and ready for he crib; true it'may remain longer in he field, but the longer it is left, the greater will be the waste. Overhaul he crib before- putting iu the new :rop; make it rat-proof by setting on )iliars capped wilh'sheets of tin or ihcet-iron. Sweep out all rubbish, )rush down the walls, and paint the nside top, bottom and sides with :oal tar or crude carbolic acid; this vill sill insects anct Keep tnem out. .u localities where the weevil is very >ad, tnis painting may be removed at ntervals on all uncovered portions of he interior walls. Where there is lonse-roomit is better to put corn twav in the shuck: it will keep better md "the shucking will afford erapioynent for rainy days daring winter. Forage of any kind cut early in the nonths' will be apt to cure well. Forage corn, cut and put up at once n shocks, three to four feet across at >ase, will cure well without additional landling. It scon shrinks enough to illow good ventilation throughout the ihock. The important point is to )uild up the shock right; see that each trmful of stalks as they are added to t are well settled on the ground. With a rone with loot) at one end. Iraw the shock up as tighly as possi>le in the middle and tie securely with i rope of grass or stalks; put another round the shock.near the top. .Thus milt, it will ?hed rain and withstand rind for many weeks or until perectly cnred. Millo maize, sorghum, tc., may be cured in same manner; he sorghnm gets limber and is more [isposed to mil down. Perhaps the >etter plan with it is, as soon as cool weather sets in, to bury in trenches ike the ribbon cane. We hare been eeding out horses and mules for ome weeks wit sorghum (early amber) ,llowed to ripen as it' intended for yrup making. The whole plant is iin through a cutter, stalk, blades and eads, and about a bushel given to each niuaal at a teed?no other feed given xcept a half gallon of bran once a ay. They relish it finely and it ap,/\AMA o <vn/\A I I i U 4 an fill KAn iv cc wiiii iiiciii XJI an iw ects bat one?it is rather too laxative -and in some animals irritates the owels. This effect is more marked 11 some animals than others; scarcely bservable in mules. They can digest oarse food better than horses, and we re inclined to suspect that it is the . uter casting of the stalk with its hard '< bre that irritates the bowels. Probacy the difficnltv might be corrected ! v giving only one of two feeds a day ' f the sorghum, or by mixing it with j ry feed of some kind, as is customary ] a* feeding dry ensilage. Lumps of i ock salt are kept in ihe mangers all ; be time. This is our first trial with : orghum in this form; hare seen it 1 #wn with peas and the mixed hay of . eavines and sorghum feed to stock , nth good results. If sorghum can be , tilized iu this manner successfully, it ] rill be a very valuable addition to ur collection of stock feed, as it is so _ i a nr:n i. _ a.1 i t* ^ j asiiv raised, vy in not owners oe kiiiu nongh to report their experience with Late sown pea3 will be ready to cut x- -S&i and cure now. After all that has been suggested about methods of caring pea-vines, it is doubtful if any plan is superior to the old fashioned one of curing in rail pens. Instead of boards , laid 011 without nailing and kept down by weights, plank an inch and a quarter thick, of proper length, will found more convenient and more effective as a covering. A good supply of such planks should be kept on every farm . m9.' for temporary shelter purposes. A loaded wagon, a pile of hay or other * stnff could be roofed in a few minutes against a threatening rain. When not [ in use they could be stored under' - auu nuuiu ioow xkjl )cau? xuu , next best plan is to cut and stack the vines at once, without drying, around a second growth pine with low branching limbs, the ends of the limbs being cut off so as to make tjie outlines of y k the tree after it is trimmed cone^shap^ . ed. The limbs prevent the vines from JH settling down too closely and the shrinkage in drying gives a plenty of ventilation. Of course brush or rails ^ raised above the surface, are placed aronnd the bottom of the tree to keep. vines off the ground. It is well also to cap with hay or straw, as pea-vines do not shed water very well. ' After they are well cured, put up in barns, as such stacks will not bear long exposure to weather. Much crab-grass hay can be saved i on every farm; cut when in bloom, or a little after, the quality is excellent. Most of that which is usually saved is cut too late, the seeds having already formed and drawn from the stalks and Iaattaa ms\c<4- ttrt fnnT\f a aanfanlo ica?w c i J vi l mvot vaiuauic; wuicuto. The seed usually drop off, and add nothing of value to the hay. A trained hand, with a good reap-hook, can cut a great deal of this grass in places where tbe mowing blade cannot reach it. Swamp grasses, if cut early jusfc in bloom, make good medium hay for cattle aud mules, but as in the case of crab-grass they are generally cut too late. Never let grass, aftei it is partly dried, lake dew; all that is cnt before two or three o'clock should be put up in cocks just before night, and as fast as it enres, several small cocks should be bfobght together and put into one large cock. The rule is to expose as possible to dew. rain or sun. and a large cock has less surface in propoi> tion to its contents than a small one. We have have often tried to care potato vines, bat without success. A week or so, however, before the usual time for digging potatoes the vines may be grazed off without appreciable injury to the crop. Most persons prefer to dig after the vines are singed bv frost, and the work is usually dorie from the 2oth of October to the 10th of * November. If the ground is dry, so that there is no danger of injury from freezes, it is well to defer the digging as late as possible, as it is desirable that the potatoes should be cool after they are dag?coolness, dryness and as . little variation of temperature as possible are the conditions requisite for keeping potatoes. The temperature of. . the interior of the bank or hHl should ? ? nener fall below forty decrees, and if practicable not raise above sixty. In warm weather it would be difficult to keep the temperature down to sixty; therefore we say it is best to put up potatoes after the weather has become settled sold. The sinking below forty _ * degress is to be guarded against by a liberal covering of pine straw, corn stalKs, etc , nnisned on with a layer of earth. After the straw Is compressed, it ought to be six inches thick And the layer of dirt on outside from sir inches to" a foot, according to the severity of the climate. The thicker the coating of straw and dirt, the slower the changes of temperature in the interior of the bank; this, therefore, is a very good means of preventing sudden ^ variatiotion from warm to cold or the* reverse. Another is to protect the bank from direct sunshine. A thermometer being in the shade will show less variatins of temnerainrn dimits* the twenty-fourhonrs of night and day than one hnng in the snushine. For a like reason a shaded potato bank will have a more uniform temperature than one exposed to the sun during the day and to free radiation at night. Potatoes go through a sweating process soon after they are banked; it is well, therefore, to have a ventilator through the the centre .of the bank and an opening at the top daring the first three or four weeks after tney are put up. Subsequently the opening should be thoroughly closed, not only with straw, but with dirt likewise. Exclude air, exclude moisture, and exclude light; keep the temperature uniformhot or cold?these arc the requisites for preservation. The potato is a tropical plant; in the tropics there are two seasons, the wet and the dry. In its relations to vegetation, the former takes the place of our summer, and the latter of our winter. Vegetation is more or less dependent during the dry season. The sweet potato bridges it over by its tubers, which remain unchanged in the dry hot soil. The temperature of the soil, though high, is uniform, and this uniformity, together with absence of moisture, "keeps the ^ tubers dormant. A cool soil would be better if above freezing point, because heat is one of the stimulants to germination, or sprouting, which is similar to germination, and to rotting, which is always an accompauiment of germination." The sweetening of the yam during winter is evidence of a slow chemical change in its contents?its starch being gradually converted into snflrov on/1 fhno cnlnKIo on/1 tA oilmen aiHv iuuq ?ajc?vjv oviui/iv unv* UV vw nourish to voung sprout?, which, in the course of nature, are soon to appear. The gradual approach of cold weather, and the dryness of October*, in temperate climates, prepare the potato for its period of dormancy, but man-must guard it against moisture, freezing and changes of temperature in ifs new home. This is most effectually done af the South in banks constructed in the manner mentioned above; at the North they are kept in cellars artificially, the" heat being I.l. ? t XL. *? J? i* A reguiaieu uy uie inuicauuns ui a iiiermometer. Burned to Death, and Restored to Life. I know of a man nearMaxey's, Ga., who for ten or twelve years was almost a solid sore from head to foot. For three years, his appearance being so. horribly repulsive, he refused to let any one see him. The disease after eating his flesh, commenced on his skull bones. He tried all doctors and medicines without benefit and no one thought he could passably recover. At last he began the use of B. B. B., and after using six bottles, his sores were all healed ana he was a sound man. He looks just like a man who had been burned to death and then restored to life. The best men of the county know of this lase, and several doctors and merchants have spoken ot it as a most wonderful case. JOHN CRAWFORD. Drueeist. * Athens, Ga. ?The executive committee of the Piedmont Fair Association is booming the coming enterprise. -