E . ; ... . _ ^ i-^-LL-?1?^'j&j ' ' ; " ' ' i n, . ;. v ' y '' ' '* -.r ',-?*.? * '* ** ABBEVILLE PRESS & BAKU?'1 - i-> ' t '> .! .?<< >.i>j , ?? r ;J| v . '". "' ' ' ' >" "U'tl" x> f-'tj- . / i{ ,% * ... .! >; ?? w ?/?,} ../twi-ir'ty/tkittVfSi^\ ' fV: .. t;4? tt ' ? BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. . ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 23, 1879. NO. 7. VOLUME XXV^< " % = 'lfc.V till*; ^ , ?? ? ' . i ?- 1 , _t The Owl Critic. A LESSON TO FAULT-FINDERS. "'Who stuffed that white owl?" No om spoke in the shop; The barber was busy and couldn't stop; The customers, waiting their turns, were al reading The Daily, the Herald, the Potl, litth heeding The young man who blurted out such a bluni question; Not one raised a head or even made a sug gestion; And the barber kept oa sharing "Don't you see, Mister Brown," Cried the youth, with a lrown, " How wrong the whole thing is, How preposteious each wing is, How flattened the head is, how jammed down the neck i?? In short, tho whole owl, what an ignorant wreck 'tis! v I mr.ko no apology; I've learned owl-oology. I've passed days and nights in a hundred collections, And cannot bo blinded to any deflections Arising lroin unskilllul fingers that fail To stuft' a bird right, lroin his beak to hi3 tail. Mister Brown! Mister llrowa! Do take that bird down, Or you'll soon be the laughing-stock all over town!" And the barber kept on shaving. " I've studied owls And other nigh? towls, And I tell you What I know to be true: An owl cannot roost "With his limbs so unloosed; No owl in this world Ever had his claws curled,. Ever had his legs slanted, Ever had his bill canted, Ever had his neck screwed Into that attituc < . He can't do it, boca.ise 'lis against all bird laws. Anatomy teaches, Ornithology preaches, An owl has a too That can't turn out so! I've made the white owl my study tor years, And to sco such a job almost moves me to tears! Mister Drown, I'm amazed You should be so gone craze! As to put up a bird In that fiosturo absurd! To look at that owl really brings on a dizziness; Tbo man wko stuffed him don't hull know his business !'* And the barber kept on shaving. " Kxamino those eyes. I'm filled with surprise Taxidermists should pass Off on you such poor glass; So unnatural they seem They'd make Audubon scream, Ar/l -Jobii B t roughs laugh To encounter such chaff. Do take that bird-down; Have hun stuffed again, Brown!" And the barber kept on sharing. [ ' With some sawdust and bark | 1 could stuft in the dark | An owl better than that. I could make fin old hat Look more like an owl Than that horrid fowl, Stuck up there so stiff like a sido ot coarse leather. f In tact, about him there's no? one natural leather.'' Just then, with a wink and a sly normal lurch, The owl, very gravely, got down from his perch, Walked round and regarded hi3 fault-finding critic (NTho thought ho was stuffed) will) a gl-trce analytic, And then tairly hooted, as it he should say " Your learning's at fault this time anyway; Don't wasto it again on a live bird, 1 pray. I'm an owl; you've another. Sir Critic, ood uay!" And the barber kept on shaving. ?Jas. T. Fields, in Harper's Magazine PLAIN MISS CAREW. I .?hall never forget that happy summer at Harpswell. a quaint old peninsular town up the Ca*co bay. I don't know just how we haDoened to L'O there, but how pleased every one was with the old-fashioned houses, and the cottages built on the banks of pretty coves, and tne Atlantic booming |ind thundering and foaming right uudcr our windows! Dear little cottages, with piazzas and balconies and slender chimneys, and poplars bending over the roof lovingly ! And strong, more substantial farmhouses, with narrow windows and tiny ** panes of glass; gardens filled with poppies and dahlias, and always beautiful; perfumy lilacs, meadows fresh with buttercups and clover and tall marguerites. D^ep green woods, fields of corn, and everywhere a great quantity ?f roses. And such massive, rugged rocks, and grand views from the hills overlooking the sea; and all over the island that peculiar hoarse, musi cal sound, called the "rote," comes in from the ocean and adds a plaintivenesa to the lovely summer days. We were a party of seven boarders at Mrs. Sennett's cottage at the head of Lo. well's Cove. It was in reality a stout old house, but some romantic wanderer had . named it " Pearl Cottage," and as such we knew it. It was the most beautiful spot imaginable. Had it been a veritable Eden there could have been no softer beauty than greeted us on every hand. A wide garden brightened the space between the bank and the house and filled the air with perfume. The cove was shaded by huge willows of a hundred years' growth, and many birds sang in their branches. The soft, caressing breeze tinged our cheeks with healthy color, and a July sun added a not ur.Irconiing brownness. A most unconsciously we drifted into familiar, friendly intercourse, and were happy and easily pleased. Nature, in her grand moods, shames us out of our artificiality. No one reproved a loud laueh, a w leap, or even a run flown the level road. We wera all so happy and gay and brimming over with spirits, it was simply impossible to be dignified, and curb our unruly, boisterou* natures. We were having a delightful row one evenine, and returned rather late. There was a light in the sitting-room contrary to our custom, and a trunk and bag on the piazza. '' 3om?body hap come,'"' cried May Derry. " Here's ? m un's trunk?I fan tell iyi the canvas?and, yes, here's a card. Oh, girls! what do you think? It is that Mr. Skidmore wq saw the day we went to the Neck ! Isn't is splendid ?" "Soil is," said May's winter. "Come here all of .von. 'Mr. E. Skidmore.' I wonder how he ever happened to come here. Won't we.lu.ve a,jolly time?" "Victoria,"' expostulated her mother. " Well, well, a nice-l -oking young man doesn't come to fiarpsv. -II every day. You haven't seen him, Mi?-' Carew," turning to a plain, dart;-evcd git i. " lie is immensely wealthv. and ha* a real gold-brown benrd, and fitifly yellow hair, and blue eyes with brown spots in them, and?" She might have gone on far on hour had not a hearty lauuh from inside the room ^ s tort led h?r. ' 1 tx-? your pardon," said a deep voice, and a tall figure appear-d in the doorway, " hut the description wa* too amusing," and again a merry laugh broke from him, in i which we all joined. I 5 "I suppose I was very rude," paid Miss i Derry, " but the deed is done, and I guess i we'll go in and have some lunch." i "If she would only not say,' I guess,'" ] 1 whispered her mother. "It is quite pie- I beian." 1 j We lound Mr. Skidmore a delightful ad- 1 dition to our party. Of good family, < t wealthy, a thorough man of the world, and 1 handsome, he had everything in his favor. The Derrvs wen?, to use Victoria's phrase- ! . ? i? ?*? i?i ??.j 1 j U!U?V, uvcr nc?xu anu cojo iw.v ??*?.?. him," and the gentlemen voted him a capi. tal fellow. He played croquet with a i steady arm and never-failing stroke, rowed .? well, sang delicious little songs in a tender, 1 manly voice, read aloud when it was too 1 hot for exercise, and made himself a most t attractive companion. f%iu the first he seemed to positively dislike plain Miss 1 Carew. In our games he avoided her no- < ticeably, never willingly ^looking at or i speaking to her. Did she propose an excur- ] sion, he declined to participate; did she : sing sweet, old-fashioned sours we liked so i much, he left the room. One evening she i had crimson rosebuds in her hair, and he said crimson rosebuds were his special < aversion. Once in stepping from the boat, t coming from a sail, he offered his hand to assist her, and almost flung her ashore. He 1 seemed to have taken an unaccountable antipathy to her. * One morning I was braiding my hair when there came a rap on my door, and 1 Miss Carew asked to come in. She was i I i j ?? ui.._ u?,i ? f UresM'll 111 11 unit: uaillici i/uuihi^ r>i>>?t?..v. .. . white sundown was pulled down over her s face. Knots of scarlet ribbon were on her 1 sleeves and down the front of her dress. 1 . noticed an unusual color in the brown s cheeks, and her brown eyes were moist- i looking. I "You have been crying, Miss Carew," I \ said; "areyou unhappy?'' [ " Not exactly unhappy. Miss Arden," she I answered, in her slow, sweet, legato voice, t " Only troubled, and rather vexed.'' " Can I help you ?" 2 "No, thank you. Yon are very kind, but it is nothing, after all. I came to ask if ( you will be good enough to let me take your t umbrella? I am going to the east shore -t and have been stupid enough to let Miss Derry take mine.'' i " Certainly," 1 said ; " and if yoiP? " 1 A loud, boyish laugh interrupted me. " Now, let me in, quick ! I've something c to tell you, Miss Arden !'' and May Derry i burst into the room. " I've found out all ji about Miss Carew," she said, breathlessly, a ' and why Mr. Skiduiore hates her and all. I have just? Oh, Miss Carew!'' she cried, 1 ! I didn't see you. I l>pg your pardon. Dear, ms! I am sure, if I had known?'' I " I beg you won't feel distressed. Ii you e have ' found out all aboi/t me,' perhaps you t will have the charity t* enlighten Miss e Arden ?'' "It's nothing at all," she blurted out; :i " only Miss Payne came over, and said you u belonged to the Carews of New Jersey, and Ii hey were a bad lot?fast men and vulgar <, women?and 1 told her I didn't believe it. 1 And then-she asked Mr. Skidmore, and he -.aid he detested a vulgar woman, and could > tell in a moment if they had good birth and i breeding, and? Oh, Miss Carew, I haven't I made you angry, have 1 ? Of course, I i I ilidn't reallv believe her." ... I i " It is all true," sui.l Annie Carew, quiet- ii ly. " I didn't consider it necessary to tell uy affairs to every one. And now, if you fi *ill get the umbrella, Miss Arden, I will ; 40." I When we were alone, I said: " Now, \ May, tell me why Mr. Skidrnore dislikes Miss Carew." t " I'll tell you all he said, Miss Arden. 1 Miss Payne said there was a mystery about i Miss Carew, and hinted at something rather reflecting on her character; and Mr. Skid- y :aore said it was her family was ^ruining 1 ner. Miss Payne told me afterward that } he hated Mis3 Carew because she had in- j trapped his brother into an engagement.j 1 This was two y-ars ago,and it is all brokerr Ii off now. Mr. Skidmore would not hear o. 0 it, I believe, and wrote to'Miss Carew, teil- n iug her his brother would be an outcast 11 from his family if he married her, and a :isked her f> set him free. It seems that n she didn't really care for him, but he was 11 wild about her, and they drifted into an en- 1 ^agemeJit. The whole family thoroughly .lisliked her, and Miss Payne sai