Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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A WOMAN'S INFLUENCE. CHAPTER XIX I?Con tlnaed. j She bent her head, pretending to ex' amine the gleaming stones, but raised It Immediately, to say rather slowly ,"Tell me what you wish most, and you shall have it." r Brian gave a questioning glance al ier half-averted face. He hesitated, but only for a second. The next he had caught ner in his arms, and holding hei sgainst his beating heart ho pressed a long, passionate kiss upon her passive lips. She made not the slightest resistance, "though her face had grown very white. He laid his own interpretation upon .Wk sirn. "You are angry," he said, allowing her to go at last *No, no, not angry; that 'was your Christmas gift." , She spoke with an effort and once more fell to admiring her pin. Brian watched her with a longing she felt rather than saw. To avoid his eyes she drew her chair closer to the fire and buried her head in its cushioned back, j "It is odd," remarked Brian, after an .awkward pause. "I think the world would smile to know that a husband ifl only permitted to kiss his wife on !Christmas day." I "Some other time we will talk of that, jUrian. Not now. It will only stir up old discords." J "There is always the shadow of discord between us," was the answer given with a sigh. "Heaven knows I should like to be a different man; but as I must be what I am, why can we not be happy together?" I "Are you unhappy?" "You know I am. "What pleasure can Eou find in hearing me say so? You now your love is the one thing I long irin till \7r>nrsf>lf In the *Vi. AW J VU ?f ?*? ^ interest of others, while for me " i He paused with a passion more eloquent than words. Margaret could not Teply immediately. A strange, nervous weakness benumbed her faculties, and she waited for a stronger moment to answer his reproaches. i "You speak unjustly," she said at last, with great effort. "I do not take pleasure in your unhappiness. If you knew how utterly exhausted I am, you would spare such remarks. They pain me. I ?I can't bear them now." i She had risen from her chair with the last words, and with sudden trembling swayed as though she would faint. "Margaret!" he cried, catching her in > his arms, "tell me the trouble." i "I am only tired," was the answer, with a Ittlf sob as her head rested for a second on his shoulder. "Only very tired." "I have been a brute," he rejoined, penitently. "I should have seen you were ill. Let me do something for you, darling." "Oh, no, Brian; I thank you. I shall be better when I have slept. I need only that, I think. I must say goodnight now." With a sigh he let her go from him, ~ nwroTT ^ 1 r? ofn o H i 1 tt hilt ttliU 3UC XUUVCU airuj uuowuuiij, coming back under the impulse of an after-thought, she said, very slowly: "Brian, won't you try to believe that want to see you happy and contented, and that I try very bard to make you so? If I am not a better -woman it is not because I do not strive to be." "No more," cried Brian, with much warmth. "Margaret, you hurt me. Not to win your love, but to be worthy of it, that should be my ambition. You are too good for me, I Good-night." CHAPTER XIV. A Bin Ell REVELATION. The old year died amid the festivities incident to the season, and the new yeal was already a week old; but still Margaret had not regained her old-time spirits. Brian "was at nrst anxious anu inou annoyed. It "was too bad of Margaret to look so pale and thin,/when he liked to see her strong and well. Thus he argued with man's sublime selfishness. "I wish you would tell me what is the matter with you," he said, rather sharply, at breakfast one morning. "You say yoj feel strong. You will not allow me tc prescribe for you, nor will you see Dr Philips; and yet you go around looking like a ghost. I can't understand it." "There is no necessity for trying. Brian. I was never rosy in my be^i days, and people often grow thin frou very simple causes. "Will you pass me a roll, please?" "You need not try to deceive me," pul In Brian, complying with her request "It is well enough to talk of being pale and growing thiir from simple causes. ] know there is a reason for your indisposition. The place is dull enough, deal knows. I think you might try to be cheerful, if only for my sake." Margaret's lips twitched. Her tempei had been tried by several circumstances that morning, aad now Brian's complaints capping the climax, put her in a mood for retaliation. "I wish you had thought of the dullness before you married me," she re. torted with the bitterness that filled hei 1 -i. UI'eubL. "I suppose you are angry now. 3 know you'll drive me mad. I wish j could hate you." "Don't quarrel, please. I don't lik? it. If you do not find sufficient to interest you at home, it is not my fault, and I will not bear the blame." Her eves flashed as that determined will passed her lips. "Are you going to the city again?" "Yes, to-morrow. I can't 3tand more than a little of this life at a time." "Nor of my company," addo'l Margaret, rather bitterly. "You are complimentary,' decidedly." "As to standing your company, Margaret, you know my fconng perfectly well. It is of the place, not you, 1 complain. What under heaven can a sanfl man do here?" "What can ho do in the city? Whal do you uo there?" .uai a^avu tiaio quietly. ""What can one do?" repeated Brian, ignoring the personality. "Bather ask: What can't he do? New York life is so flexible, my dear, that it bends to every caprice. Wonderful and accommodating both. There's pleasure for everybody. A tVicnio.inel jirrmspnif'nts to fill im nnn'u time. Ask a Gothamile how hy enjoys himself and hear his answer." "Then from your account I am to assume that enjoyment is the end and aim of his existence. I think your Gothamite's life would not suit me.'' "Not if you hold your present principles, certainly. Really, Margaret, you are a most self-opinionated young woman, and I'd bo delighted if you would drop one or two of your theories Jhg wayside," .... ? ~ ( ' ' jj? - . ... ""I dare say It would be as well," was the answer; "they could not fall on more barren soil than your unappreciative mind offers." "Say philosophical rather than unappreciative. You must admit that I have reason on my side. Show me the benefit of working one's self to death, when there is no necessity for it. You only see the surface, Margaret, but I go deeper." "On the contrary," smiled Margaret, "you see only the surface, while I lo<<!i deeper. You lcok only at the need^o! money, but I see a hundred effects'in which money nas no part, necessity is a very accommodating term, and Jias a different shade ot meaning for dLSferent people. As for working one's,self to death, I'm afraid that is alsotvb accommodating term. A lazy maiyfnight consider the slightest exertiop a step toward that lamentable end./ "I suppose I am that lafcy man?" "I shouldn't bo at all surprised. And, setting joking aside, ifrian. I do think that no man has a rijgnt to do nothing. ' Lounging about day after day, with no 1 higher ambition than to amuse one's 1 self would, it seeitis to me, make a man or woman (more particularly a man), ' tired of himself. Now, don't look at i me with that expression, please. I don't 1 want iu utj u. Duiu?y vi u yivuvuvi) either. I detest everlasting preachers, 1 and I don't intend to be one. Nevertheless, I wish to gracious you'd find something to do, and have a better reason for goinz to New York than your present one, which is?well, not particularly creditable." Margaret's voice broke slightly, but she tried to hide the momentary weakness by sipping her coffee. Brian's face had flushed very visibly at her allusion to the reason of his visits to the city and he, too, went on eating In silence. [ "Margaret," he said, presently, "if you i have any old men or women who need ioctoring call me in and I'll show you ' jvhat I can do. I'm Dretty fair, notI withstanding ray want of practice. "Very well, Brian, be prepared for an early call. It is not your ability I loubt. though._ As he Lad said, urian went to ^ew i'ork the next day. "I shall bs back in i day or so," he told Margaret on bidding her good-by. "You may expect tne." Margaret did expect him, but she was disappointed. The days passed, and after his first letter she heard no more from him. She became -worried and anxious, though even to herself she would not acknowl9dge her alarm. She did not dream of bodily harm. Intelligence of such a mishap would aave reached her quickly. Yet in some intangible way sho felt that ho was in dancer and needed her. In cases like this philosophy is of little avail. To tell herself that this or that was impossible, that Brian was merely forgetful and indifferent, augmented rather than relieved hor fe:irs. To relieve her mind she rode over to 'The Cedars to see and talk with Alice; but upon reaching her destination she was told that Alice had left the house with the intention or returning in a snort time. As she had the afternoon at her disposal, Margaret decided to wait; so she lound her way to the small room adjoining the library and seated herself in a lounging chair. The house was very silent, and the room unusually warm, and a? a consequence Margaret, becoming rather drowsy, was soon quite unconscious of her surroundings. How long she remained so she did nol know, but presently she was aroused by loud voices raised in some altercation. At first they were rather indistinct and seemingly put part of a dream. "Very well, sir, go to the devil for all I care." "The Colonel's voice," Margaret de1 cided, still unable to shake off the imprcssion of dreaming "What's the good of your education, 1 I'd like to know?" the voice continued, "Do you imagine I gave you the opportunity of reading law for you to give il ~ ?> *:?-10 V? Tkir ( up wxieu yt>u yicn biicu; .w, on i idea of -writing that's turned your head .is only another name for doing nothing, 1 Confound me! I believe you want to be like that d scoundrel, Leigh " 1 Margaret started. Was this dreaming? "You are mistaken," came the answei in Bertie'6 voice. "I have no desire tc emulate Brian in any respect. Please credit me with some consideration foi Alice." "If you didn't show more for her thar i he does for his wife, I'd shoot you wit! my own hands. He ought to be hung i the scoundrel! Leaving his wife as ht has been doing, allowing his domestic I affairs to be the talk of the neighbor hood and her name to become the sub' ject of discussion with every vulgai gossip in the place, and he ealivanting around the city like a loafer, lounging in ' clubs mornings, noons, and nights, and drunk at that. Beale sa-.v him the other day lyins on the club house steps, toe drunk to mo%-e. And Margaret has thrown herself away on such a creature. Don't get so excited, you say? I>o you think I am made of stone? Do von think I can talk quietly and calmly when I remember her? * Why in the name of heaven do such men have ; wives? Why in the name of a just heaven should she have such a husband': i And why in the name of the devil dun'1 I some one shoot or hang him? Margaret had heard all?every word, the Colonel's high-pitched denunciai tions. Bertie's lower but not less emphatic ones, and now she could'hear the Colonel angrily pacing the library, his regular rapid steps seeming to keej time with her quick heart beats. Xo, this was not dreaming. She was fully awake. And crouching down in her chair she pressed her hands ovei her eyes as though she would shut fron her sight the shame and disgrace thai -* t - i i was actuary xoucnuig uer mo. bad it never occurred to her before! Why had she not guessed that, while she passed her thoughtless, unthinking days in the safety of her own home, he following a path of ruin amid^the , gilded temptations of Now York? now much of the blame would lie at her door, | and what would be the end? Ah! those bittrr questions, with the.'r more bitter possibilities! i tefore h"r mind rose the memory of a solemn moment and the never-forgotten words: "Don't forget Brian. Be good to him for my sake." L>id she need such memories to make her realizo that now a* never before his future, his destiny rested in her I hands? She could not sit nere ana wan quietly for Alice nor could she be found I hero by either Bertie or the Colonel. She must leave the house unobserved if possible. Alas! it was not. possible. Scarcely had she reached the hall than Bertie, leaving the library at the same moment, came suddenly upon her. "Margaret," he said, starting at sight of her. "You here? I did not know. You are in trouble. You are ill. Tell me." "Heart-sick, Bertie, only heart-sick," she returned, with a hall-sobbing l.reath, while she caught at the dour for support. "I catno to see Alice. She is out; 1 cannot wait longer." "Y<>u have been waiting th'-n," ho questioned, quite bewildered by h'-r si range manner. "Margaret," lie added, with sudden revation, "you heard." "Yes," she answered, lowering her eyes before his pitying glance. "I was in there and I heard all. I did not know ?before." . J f f i / "Poor /fchild," he said, with unusual gentleness. "If Brian could only see you n9JW. I wish I could have told you Jess Abruptly. It was cruel. Father will/be bo sorry. Let me bring him hcp'e. He might comfort you, Margaret." ' Margaret smiled sadly, and leaned father heavily against the stairway. 1 .'"Xo, Bortie, no one can do that. It is / impossible, impossible. 1 think his ' sympathy would be very hard to bear > now. Don't pity me. Advise me. I f feel so helpless. Have you known?long? i Why has God sent me this ? this 1 trouble?" 1 It was hard for Bertie to meet this : inquiry calmly. "Not for any desert of yours," he said, rather huskily. "You ask mo if I have known long. I'm afraid I must say yes. The lirst time I saw Brian not himself?I am hurting you." "XT ^ - ? ? * m n .11 Ti. '^o. vjo on, piease. lew me an. ik can make very little difference now." "I was surprised and shocked. I thought of you and I talked to Brian. He promised to do better. I believe he intended to, and I think he tried, but his resolutions are weak and easily broken. Do you remember the day I mit you in the road and you remarked ' upon my long face? It was tho day before Brian left on this last visit. I dreaded the result for him, and I determined to tell you all and lef suasions influence him. cut, 3rafga*et, when I saw your face my heart failed me, and I allowed the opportunity to slip. Yet you can remember how earnest I was in begging you to use your ' influence to keep Brian at home. Here the temptation seems to have no power over him. I think your presence must be the cause. Unfortunately, though, ho loves the allurements of city lifo. And you are not there." "Xo, but I shall be," returned Margaret, lifting her grateful eyes to his. "Thank you for showing me the way." "It is so little to tha:ik me for," he returne:!, sadly. "I wish I could do a thousand times more for you. If Brian is not content to stay with you at Elmwooe, the next best tiling is for you to be with him in New York. It will be a gain for him, but leaving your home will be a heavy sacrifice for you. Do you fell called upon to make it?" He looked kindly in her face, but he found no hesitation there. "A hundred times, if necessary," she responded. "I had not thought of that part, and I cannot speak of it yet. "Will you see that John brings my horse? And remember me to Alice and your father, please." "Keep up a brave heart," he said, as helped her on htr horse a few moments later, "and don't foruet me if you need a friend, thovgh heaven grant you never may." i' Margaret nodded. She could not speak, and pressing her hand with sympathetic warmth, Bertie watched her rii'e away, and then went in to recount to his father all that had passed between them. This served to increase the old gentle, man's indignation at what he called , Brian's despicable conduct. While Bertie talked he paced the room, alternately praising Margaret, whom he loved like a daughter, and conIt-inn in Viic aefimAtinn. UCUililU? JUIIUU, *** **?..? v had been false alike to the highest principle of manhood and to the honor and respect due to his wife. I TO BE CONTINUED. 1 HIRES "HORRIBLE EXAMPLES." Dr. Cnrrle Gains "Wealth by Covering; Their Heads With Hair. The "renewers of youth," who prove by their advertisements that they can remove the wrinkles from one side of an old woman's , face, are mere babes in artifloe as compared with "Dr. Parker H. Carrie." Dr. Currie is "well known and deeply regretted" in all the towns of t'jo northern portion af 8outh Dakota. He travels la a stylish carriage, and sails an "infalible hairrenewer" on the street corners. Previous to his arrival a stranger with an ' aggressively bald head appears in each town [ and makes himself conspicuous. When the "doctor arrives with his gaudy equipage, | and attracts a crowd to the most conspicuous I corner, the bald-headed man appears prominently in the assemblage and listens with > apparent credulity to the harangue on the hair-restorer. "Ah!" the doctor finally exclaims, pointing to the bal i-headed man, "there is a fit , subject lor experiment. Will you, sir, permit me to try my preparation on your head? 1 I won't charge you a cent, no matter what > the color of your new crop of hair may be." t The stranger, after some persuasion, consents, and his head is shampooe I with the i "doctor's" preparation. Currie then pro ? leeus uij uia juaruc)', uui i^iulu i?w .bree weeks later. ' In the meantime tne stranger's heart has 3 oeen covared by a luxurious growth of 5 hair, and the entire town is talking of the marvel. When the doctor returns all tho baldr beaded men and women for miles around t bssiegw him for bottles of bis "iufnllible hair-renewer." He reaps u harwst of greenbacks and then makes his final disappearance. The stranger al3o disappears. When the 1 bald-headed men and women do not grow i luxuriou: heads of hair they become suspicious and make inquiries. j They learn that the stranger was the "doctor's" advance agent, and that he bad merely shaved his head and allowed tho hair to crow after the application of the "renewer." ' "Dr. Currie" has rounded up all the towns 1 in North and South Dakota. STRIFE ON SINGINC OF "DIXIE." Basis of the Refusal of a Georgia Pupil to Take His Diploma. For the first time in the South's history i "Dixie" ha9 caused discord in Cartersville, i Ga., among the 10,000 inhabitants, various , degrees of harsh feelings have been expended, and the Publio School Board is in trouble. The graduating class of the Cartersville ! High School consisted of eight membere, i; seven of whom received their diplomas. Wil1 son Oongers Fite, the eight boy, declined to i receive his sheepskin despite the fact that ; he had finished fourth In his cla39. The ' declamation contest was the cause of the re, fusal. Young Fite claims that the judges were unduly influenced. 1 After the speech of Edward Dwello, on ' "Thn Vatc Smith" ffiradvY the band, at the > request of persons in the theatre, played i "Dixie." The thrilling music increased the r enthusiasm that the speech had stirred and Dwellewas given a prize on oratory. ' Not only has Fite refused his diploma, but he has entered a protest against the decision of the judges, assarline: that they were unduly influence! by the interjection of "Dixie" into the programme of Dwello's speech. WE SEND IRON TO EUROPI. Contract lor Five Hundred Tons to Ee Sent From Alabama to Italy. The Tennessee Coal, Iron and Railroad 1 Company. Birmingham, Ala., closed a contract for 500 tons of i?ig iron with a foundry company in Genoa. Italy. This is said to be only a starter for business in th" Mediterranean, for negotiations are pending with an I Italian steel company for the delivery I for a term of years of 50,(jp;l tons a year ol the output of the Alice furnace, wuicn is turning out a line low silicon iron and adapted to steel making. ; Tho iron heretofore usad by the Italian Steel Plant has been purchased of the Eng1 lish furnaces. Tiio Sloss Iron and Steel Company and Tennessee Company have established agencies across tho ocean, and expect to make a large number of contracts. recnllnr Death of n Diver. A marine diver named Colwell lost his . life at Harbor Springs, Alioh., In the wrecking operations on the sunken steamer Ca, yuga. He was employed by Captain Reed, and was lowered In the diving rltr to tho sunken Doat. i'lve minutes later ne was hoisted to tho surface, and when his helmet waa removed his nead was found to be crushed. Tho cause is unknown. . LIBERTY'S EMBLEM. ' EVOLUTION 01 THE STARS AST STRIFES. | ? jHE flag of the United States, that * . . ' glorious emblem y X. of red, white and / \. bine which every *' Fourth of July proudly waves on the tops of hundreds of flagpoles, cupolas, domes , sightlyreplacesbin both city and country, is not as old by almost a year as the independence of our land. The United States was not a country in the usual sense of the word when the troubles occasioned by the hateful Stamp Act had broke out with the mother country, and as the difficulties grew eo that a war was the only method of settling the dispute, our Colonial legislators first busied themselves in asserting their independence, and it was not until some time later that the flag, as the distinctive emblem of the country's freedom, was chosen. Every true American surely ought to be as well acquainted with the history of his country's flag as with the main events which called forth that remarkable document, the Declaration of Independence. But until recently the history of our flag has been practically ignored. Within the past few years its birthday, June 14, has been rescued from oblivion, and given the place of distinction it ought to have in the calender of America's memorable days. The 14th of June is now regularly observed as Flag Day in many of our States. Its observance, beyond an increased fluttering of flags in our city, is chiefly confined to the schools where the bojs and girls of America's coming generation are instructed in flag lore and what "Old Glory," as it has been fondly called, really stands for. A RECOMMENDATION FOB NO. 13. Probably every schoolboy and schoolgirl knows that the thirteen ii i of.th? NAVY' VARIOUS AMERICAN FI alternate red and white stripes on our flap; typify the thirteen original States or colonies, from which our country grew. ThiB number thirteen, coming down from tbe remote ages of superstitious antiquity, has been stamped as the forerunner of dire misfortune and untold evils, but surely those individuals who are still inclined to fight 6by of the number must admit that a glorious exception has been the case in so far as these United States have been affected by having their birth from thirteen colonies. The white stars in the blue field also are known to represent the number of States in the Union, a new star being added with the entrance of every new State, but the star is not added until July 4, following the admission ot the State. Beyond these few facts comparatively little is known regarding the "Stars and Stripes." It was on June 14, 1777, a very trying year in the Revolution for Ameri* j i- - i iv . n r i.1 TT?Za.~ -1 cans, mat me nag 01 tae umieu omico came into existence. Congress on that day passed the resolution, "That the BETSY ItOSS. flag of the United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the Union be thirteen stars, white, in a blue field, representing a new constellation." EORN IN PHILADELPHIA. Philadelphia has the honor of being the scene of the birth of this flag, as a yenr previous it gave birth to the country's freedom. It is also an interesting fact that the old house in which the flrst regular United States flag was made is still standing. This house is at 239 Arch street and is now occupied by a Mrs. Munday, who, besides showing patriotic visitors the room in which General Washington gave Betsy Iioss the rough design for the flag, dispenses over a small counter in front of the house pipes and tobacco. The house, although about 300 years old, is still in an excellent state of preservation. It is a small two-story brick building, being the second one of its kind erected in Phil- j adelphia, the bricks having been sent over from England. This house, in 1777, was occupied by Mrs. Elizabeth Koss, but she is known in history simply ae Betsy Koss. THE BIRD 01 all < V*\?N W \\v > />>: ; ,v ON THE GLORIOUS FOURTH The committee appointed by Congress to provide a suitable design for the flag consisted of George Washington, Hon. George Rosb, and Robert Morris, the great Pennsylvania financier, who freely gave all of his great wealth in the cause of his country. Betsy Ross kept a little upholstering store and was also one of the best seamstresses in the city, so it was natural that the committee should select her as the best one to make the flag. The design which she used was a rough one sketched by Washington in pencil, and//tis worthy of remark that to Bet8j^Boss is due the credit for the five pointed stars. In the original design the stars had been made with six points. Betsy Ross plainly told the angust committee that five-pointed stars would look much better, and cut one from a piece of paper to show how it looked. ' The suggestion was adopted, and Betsy made the flag, which AGS OF EABLY DATE. was greatly admired. She then received the contract from the Government to make all its flugs, for which ehe was paid ?1412s. 3d. apiece, abont ?70. The contract was held in this familv for several years, bnt later her daughter, who belonged to the Society of Friends, known as Quakers, objected to making flags for war vessels, although the society's scruples against warfare never seemed to have bothered Betsy Ross in the peaceful occupation of making the flags. The thirteen stars in the original flag were arranged in a circle, emblematic of the perpetuity of the UnioD. The Stars and Stripes met with universal favor, and as soon a9 extra ones could be made the different detachments of- the American armies were supplied with them, and from that time to the close of the war they were an inspiration to victory and renewed patriotism. UHArtuj&a ?2i inx* cuau. In 1795 the flag underwent its first change. Two more States, Vermont and Kentucky, had been admitted to the Union, and it was decided to increase both the Stripes and Stars to fifteen. This was done, and for twentythree years the flag remained in this condition. The first United States ship to unfnrl from her masts this fifteen striped banner was the historic old battleship Constitution, better known as "Old Ironsides," which was built in 1795, and did good service in the war of 1812. In 1818 tbe question of a change in the flag came before Congress again. Since 1795 five more States had been i admitted to the Union and they wanted to be represented in some < manner in their country's flag. The 1 committee in charge of the matter i were first in favor of increasing the i stars and stripes as had been done be- : fore, but this was objected to by many < on the ground that twenty stripes make the flag too clumsy. At this point Captain Samuel C. Reid offered the suggestion which won for him the honor of being styled the father of the Stars and Stripes as it exists to-day. His idea was simple and convenient, however great the number of States might be in the future. It was that the stripes be reduced to the former number of thirteen aud always remaiD so, while the stars be made as numerous as the States comprising the Union. On April 4, 1818, this plan was adopted by Congress, and the first ilng under the new idea was made by Captain Eeid's wife. n-DAVTT riTT TATTrPT* nr TTTT7 "Ft* Art. A point of interest that may not be generally known i9 that Captain Reid lies buried in Greenwood Cemetery, Brooklyn. His grave is plot 13,108, near Cypress avenue and Zephyr path, but the little mound is unmarked by even the simplest headstone. Congress, however, did, last year, grant an appropriation to place a suitable monument over the grave. Captain Reid was one of America's J tiue naval heroes, and he was famous i in his day as the intrepid commander : i rFBEEDOM. /$ ? f HE 18 MUCH IN EVIDENCE. of the privateer General Armstrong, which fonght a desperate battle against three English gnnboats in , Faval Roads, Azores Islands, Septem ber 26, 1814. The naval battle lasted the greater part of two days, but Captain Reid, by the exercise of rare J skill and judgment against his power- , ful adversaries, finally defeated them with great loss. After the war of 1812 he was Har- J bor Master and Port Warden of the J Port of New York. He died in 1861. Previous to the adoption of a reg- | ular United States flag in 1777, there wa3 a wide variety of banners and de- ; vices used by the different detachments of Colonial troops. One of the , most famous of these flags and one J 1 1_ 1 usea iurjjeijr uy i>uo iuiiaoabuuociitii patriots was the rattlesnake flag with its warning words, "Don't Tread on Me." The snake was sometimes represented as cnt into thirteen pieces and supplemented with the words "Join or Die." The color of the flag was yellow and the rattlesnake black. The yellow is said to have been suggested by the quarantine flag of Great Britain* indicative of plague, and the yellow color and the venomous rattlesnakes were meant to be suggestive of far greater danger than a plague to whoever attacked it. Massachusetts also had a special flag bearing the emblem of a pine tree on a white field. This sometimes bore the motto, "An Appeal to Heaven." South Carolina used the palmetto tree as its flag emblem, and it was one of these palmetto tree flags that waved so defiantly from Fort Moultrie, June 28, 1776, when AL- ?u.t J _ - ? me .ornisu maue a uuva^o avia^a u^wu that place. THE GRAND UNION. The Grand Union Flag waa about the first attempt to provide for a National emblem. It was the design of Benjamin Franklin and two others while in the camp of the Continental troops at Cambridge, in the winter of 1775, and it is said to have been first raised over the camp, January 2, 1776. It contained thirteen white and red stripes. The King's colors, the Cross of the Georges, had been retained, testifying that the Colonies were united, but were still ready to acknowledge the rule of Great Britain, if the obnoxious taxation laws would be repealed. But the flag had a very Iaaoa liVu fr\v ttifpT f.VlA T)p/V OUUlt iCBCO Ui UAV AV/? ) M*HV* >?? ? I laration of Independence on the following Fourth of July, there was no further use for the banner with the King's colors. What was called the New England ^ J' ' .< WHERE THE FIRST FLAG WAS M*T)Pflag was also used quite extensively. This was a plain blue flag with a white field in the upper left hand corner, divided into four squares by a red . cross. The other first square was a sphere, divided, emblematical of American as the new world. The Massachusetts troops had a number of these flags, but instead of the sphere put a green pine tree in the white square. Our Stars and Stripes was 119 years old on the 14th of last June, and in the celebration of our one hundred ind twentieth Independence Day something of its history may well be remembered by all patriotic Americans. An Up-to-Date Celebration. ra w p The Dilterciice. iVtmt does it mean to one little maid? Popcorn and peanuts and pink lemonade. iVhat does it mean to two little boys/ I forpedoes and lire-crackers, racket and noise. J HOW ?0 CELEBRATE. " Julia Ward Howe Suggests a Pro fifl gramme for the Fourth. The question will be, How to make B the Fourth of July a true festival, a 4H National solemnity, without forgetting fl the claims of the young to be amused, H as well as to be instructed. In the first place, I should think that the day H might fitly be made one of reunion, <.V by different clubs and associations of n culture and philanthropy. Those ( whose thoughts go deep enough to II understand the true conditions of I human freedom, might meet and com* fl pare their studies and experiences. 9 Very fitly, after such a meeting, each B individual of them might seek a group, I hn vVirtQA mnmbfirH ha miffht nresent a V popular statement of the philosophy of freedom. Mothers, who should be the true guardians of peace, might well come together to study all that promotes its maintainance. In gatherings of older children, prize essays might be presented and discussed. I can imagine civic banquets, of a serious and stately character, in which men and women might sit together and pledge each other in the exhilaration of friendship and good feeling. \ I would have processions, but I would have them less military in char- J| acter and more pacific in suggestion. B Congregations of the various religions confessions might walk in prder, headed by their ministers, who should I all exchange the right hand of fellow ship with each other. I would have B no monster concerts, which cannot be fully enjoyed, but divers assemblages, at which music of the highest order n V?a nnfloontail TiottAra of flrrpftt OUUUiU W ^/A^avuiiwv*! ? - Q- WW. _ ing should be exchanged between B cities and States, and the device of the fl day should be "In the Name of the Republic." The history of the war I which culminated in our National in* dependence should be amply illustrated by graphic lectures, and posBibly by living pictures. How would the followingprogramme answer? On the evening of the 3d of July quiet gatherings in halls and churches, in which the true love of country should be explained and illustrated. How many a name, half or wholly forgotten, would then be recalled from oblivion, and with it the labor and sacrifice of some noble life, some example precious for the community! The morning of the Fourth to be ushered in by martial music and a military display sufficient to recall the services of the brave men who gave our fathers liberty. At 10 o'clock orations in various public buildings, the ablest speakers ot the Commonwealth doing their best to impart the lesson of the day. From 12 to 4.30 in the afternoon I would have exercises for the children of the public schools, examination of olasses in 1 American history, prizes given for es- | eajs on historical and patriotic subject'?. Later, a gathering in publio gardens and a tea, with fruit and flowers, served for the children of the city. In the evening the singing of National anthems, tableaux vivants and fireworks, and in some form a i pastoral benediction. J To these exercises I would add the signing of a pledge of good citizen- I ship. The pledge might be either general or particular in its terms, but jm the act of signing it should imply a H disinterested publio service of some sort, a participation in some work I useful for the health, beauty or order of the city, without other leward than fl the badge or button which would rep- jfl resent the agreement entered into. I jfl would have the history of other re- fl publics brought forward on this day, fl and especially the historic struggles fl nf rtn* nnm ti'mo And T Wrttllfl if I could compel the attendance of onr 9 men and women of fashion upon lec- 9 tnres in which the true inwardness of 9 European society should be exposed 9 and the danger shown of the follies 9 and luxurious pomp which they de- 9 light in imitating and which, however 9 aesthetically adorned and disguised, 9 are for us a lead in the pathway of 9 moral and intellectual deterioration, 9 ?Julia Ward Howe. 9 \ Patriotic 111111?. 9 "The horse thief who broke into my 9 shop last night," said the false-hair 9 merchant, "reminded me very much 9 of a fire-cracber." I "How was that?" asked his friend. 9 "He went off with a bang," sighed 9 the hair merchant?Harper's Bazar. His tup Overflowed. 9 Gimlet?"Did you have a good time on the Fourth, Johnny?" 9 Johnny?"Did I? Well, say! Ma 9 ain't got over the hysterics yet." H I I ^I *"N * ?=-* Hi I heard it ring all throush the night In joyful tones supremo As though from freedom's far-oflf height j^BI The melody did stream; aH| a?/1 AUU 11UCU* 0! liberty? nl Its only constant theme, iifll And liberty B^S 0! liberty? It shouted through my dream. It seemed to lift, to rise, to float Me o-ithe joyful strain; The pulsing accents seemed to gloat On that oue rich refrain; And liberty 0! liberty? It echoed through my brain, GH| And liberty 0! liberty? BB| It called and called agaia. All through the dreamful, happy nlglit ^H| I heard its voice outpour? The "poor old bell," the people said, "Would ring, ah! evermore." Bat liberty * O! liberty? I heard it o'er and o'er, Ann noorty Oh! liberty? As in the days of yore. Anil iloos it rinp no more??ah me.' They spoke who were not wise, Its vole-; is rolling rouud the world? HH Such music never dies. Still liberty O! liberty TJnceasingly it cries, And liberty 9BH 0! liberty? mJ^hE A listening world replied,