Beaufort Republican. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1871-1873, November 23, 1871, Image 1
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Jbaufort ?0uutij Republican
THURSDAY NOVEMBER, 23, 1871.
POETRY.
OVER THE BARS.
Twas milking time, and the cows came up
From the meadows sweet with clover,
And stood in the lane, while preUy Jane
Had a quiet chat with the drover?
Such a quiet chat that It scarcely seemed
That a single word was spoken;
Whiles magic spell with the night dews fell,
And the rhythm of song was unbroken.
The cattle stood at the lover's side,
Without any show of vexation,
As though impressed, that a five bar rest
TT? a parv ui tnnr rem uiaiivu,
And as Jane listened to the notot that came
Right under the bars and over,
Her heart took wlug, the silly thing,
And nestled up close to the drover.
She heard him say his home was poor.
That he'd nothing but love to give her;
And she smiled content, as though Love had spent
Every arrow he had in his quiver;
She smiled content, when the evening air
, With voices of birds are ringing,
And her lips confessed that a lowly nest
I Should never prevent her singing.
So over the bars the lovers lean.
In the joy of their sweet communion;
And their looks declare that poverty ne'er
Shall bo a bar to their union;
O, sweetest music, go thread your rhymes
Now under the hars and over!
Where pretty Jane, in the fragrant lane,
Bewitched the heart of the drover.
Xr. De Brtwie'8 Experiment.
Mr. Herbert De Browne sat in his luxurious
bachelor establishment in Bank
street, and pondered deeply. The snbject
of his agitations was a wife, or rather how
to get one. There were enough ladies who
| would be glad enough to bless their lucky
p stars for the privilege of becoming mistress
of his home, as he well knew, but he
also felt tolerably well assured the home
was a<l they cared for. For the fortune
i they woulu wed ?ts owner.
44Deuce take the money I" he exclaimed;
44I wish I'd never had a farthing, and
then? but, botheration, then I should
have been too poor to marry. Why
couldn't I have had just wealth enough
for all wants and nothing more? I'll foil
thtm, though, the mean adventuresses!"
L A furious pull at the bell-c?>rd brought
the housekeeper to the room in a hurry.
||fe'' 44Pack up your traps, Mrs. llinkle," he
exclaimed, adruptly, 44for I am going to
III close the house."
g|A It was evident he had come to some con
r elusion.
"Shut up the house, Mr. De Browne!"
ejaculated the housekeeper, almost believing
she had lost her reason. "Why such
a thing has not occurred since your lamented
uncle took possession, five and
forty years ago."
% "That makes no difference, ma'am ;
I'm master here now, and shall close it
for the present. Meanwhile your pay can
still go on, and that of such domestics as
you consider indispensable. Have you no
' relatives you wish to visit?" he inquired.
Tnat settled it. The proffer of continued
pay removed Mrs. Rinkle's scruples
quite effectually. She then remembered
she had some friends she had not seed for
years.
Three days later, Mr. Browne was safe
ly domiciled in a quiet lodging house, and
shortly afterward he began to sell his diamond
rings and seals, and other paraphernalia
of fashionable life, as well as dress
himself in plainer clothes. A rumor that
his property had been lost through an unlucky
speculation was soon afloat.
He lost friends rapidly. By twos and
threes they ceased to know him as they
met him in the street He only laughed
and snapped his fingers at them behind
. 1 ? TV 1 V _ 1 *1 1 1
tneir oacKs. naa nis auversuy Deen reai
he would not have felt like laughing.
Then came the time when his circle of
acquaintances narrowed down to three.
But three of his former friends still clung
to him, true in adversity. It was no wonder
he grew misanthropic.
Out in the street, one day, he met a carriage
containing some of his former acquaintances,
who had been absent from
the city since he had closed his house. He
thought they would not notice him ; but
I each inmate of the carriage bowed politely
as of old.
"They have not heard of the news,"
| he muttered, cynically.
He was mistaken. That night the owner
of the carriage came to see him.
1'Rather close quarters, my friend," he
said, as he took a calm survey of Herbert's
not very pretentious surroundings.
"Pretty close, that's a fact," said Mr.
f
De Browne, icily. "But since I lost mj
property?of which I suppose you haven't
heard?I have become very economical.'1
"But I have heard!" cried out his audi*
tor, abruptly, "and this is why I came :
I knew you needed friends now, if ever,
and the fact is?well?my daughter, sir?
I mean I came to offer you the position
of head clerk in counting-house. Will you
accept it?"
"Ahem! Well, I'll think of it. But
it's a long way from my lodgings."
"Deuce take your lodgings! You can
board in my family as a?well, as a sort
of guest, you know."
Herbert looked him over closely. John
Brandard was a wealthy maf)?very
wealthy he was called?and in his fac?
there was nothing to warrant the suspicion
that he had learned Herbert's secret,
and wished to curry favor by aiding him
while under an apparent cloud, so the
idea was quickly dismissed. Of course he
thanked him, and accepted.
Once cosily settled in the Brandard
mansion, it was not long before he wondered
why he had not noticed Susie Brandard
before. She did not seem to feel
above him, notwithstanding the wide difference
in their positions, and treated him
cordially?more cordially, he thought,
than before the change in his fortunes.
He would not have been human had he
not learned to love her.
The climax came when she had to give a
grand party. Then, before the elite of
the city, she did not hesitate to receive
attention from him, on which but one
construction could be placed. He
thought her quite a heroine, and asked for
no further proof that she loved him. The
next afternoon they met in her father's
library, where she had waited to see
him.
"Susie," said he, as soon as the usual
courtesies had been exchanged, "I came
to you this morning to learn my fate.
I kuow the difference in our position, and
would not urge you?only let your heart
decide. My heart I lay before you."
She blushed prettily, and seemed confused
for a moment; then she gave him her
hand.
"I liovp lnppd mn nil en lnntrl'J tlic
said,4 'and I feared that you would never
love me. You were so jealous before you
lost you money, and thought all the women
were adventuresses. I was glad
when papa said you had lost it, and?"
tlYousent him to nogotiate with me,"
cried Herbert.
"I loved you so!" she murmured, deprecatingly.
"I do not doubt it, dearest."
Ai. d Mr. Herbert De Browne believed
himself the happiest of men.
They were mairied. The wedding
was very unpretentious, as became the
bridegroom straitened circumstances, and
he was in a constant ecstacy as he thought
of her surprise when he should tell her
that his fortune still remained. He sent
for Mrs. Rinkle to come and re-opened
the house, and put it in condition to receive
the mistress. In the meantime
they tarried at her father's.
"Herbert," said his wife one day, 44I
have a favor to ask of you. Will you
grant it?"
4T will if it is in my power, darling,"
he reDlied.
"Well, poor papa is rather short of
money; won't you lend him ten or fifteen
thousand dollars?"
"Me? Why, you know?"
"Oh, I know very well what you have
beer pretending."
Herbert De Browne was dumb with
astonishment and chagrin.
"How did you find that out?" he gasped.
* 4I knew it all the time. When I
heard you were penniless, papa went directly
to your bank, and learned the contrary.
I think we managed pretty
well."
"I think you did," cried her husband,
desperately, "but do you think 1,11 endure
it?"
"How can you help yourself?" We
are married now; you can't apply for a
divorce?"
"No, I can't, but?
"Then what will you do?"
"Answer me nne nuestion! do VOU real
ly love me?"
"Yes, I do."
"Well, if you love me, we will drop the
subject"
liI think you had better," she said
quietly, "and lend the money to papa."
And like a sensible man he lent.
How Shall We fete?
t
Major Maldsoa, of Ute Hmt/ Artillery,
; Headquarters Haevy Artillery,
, Astgr Hoitke.
To the editor of the New York World.
Sir: Notwithstanding I issue all my
proclamations from these 4Headquarters,'
it is not generally believed, I fear, that
1 there is any such organization in existence
as the 4Heavy Artillery'.
But there is, and I am a Heavy. Al'
though of late I have had serious doubts
if we ever derive any such advantages
from our organization as we were led to
expect
I, too, have said quite recently, as I
saw one after another of my day-dreams
of the office in the Customhouse pass
away into the consoling cock-tan 'it is
not so respectable or so pleasant to be a
soldier of the 'Heavy Artillery* as-we
were led to believe when they invited as to
go to Virginia, and take oar chances of
being planted.'
Although I apprehend if I had succeeded
in getting planted there, they would
have given me a respectable niche in history,
and I should have had the pleasure
of shooting quails over my own grave,
as I propose shortly to do over the mustering-out
places of some of my former
associates.
However, a few of as whose patriotism
, is no longer a matter of doubt have toneluded
to vote for somebody at the next
election, but we are mixed as to what
particular ticket to vote.
If we could vote as easily as we registered
there would be no difficulty attending
the exercise of oar highest rights as
freemen.
We go into column, four of us, and
went for the register people.
First, there was the Colonel?the Siberian
traveller?who stands sixteen and a
half hands high in his snow-shoes, and
whose capacity has never yet been attained
by any living man.
We thought we should first confront the
register people with the Colonel, to produce
a strong dramatic effect at the sendoff.
Then came the Jim Bludsoe man. He
held the 'nozzle,' which the Colonel proposed
to use on the hand of any register
party that might be included to thwart
our right as freemen, as aforesaid.
Then came the 'Fat Contributor.' He
don't vote in this settlement, but he said
he wished to register, in order that his
name might get into the newspapers.
The 'Fat Contributor' don't stop at
hotels, either to eat, bat he likes to arrive
and drink.
Then came the leading man of the Heavy
Artillery.
My innate modesty will not allow me
to insert my name in this connection; although
it was thought proper for the military
to bring up the rear on account of
the safe of that position.
'Stop here,' cried the Bludsoe man, as
we filed to the right, and unto a cellar,
where the register people were recording
the names of the freemen on the tops of
trunks and canvas carpet-bags, with
which the cellar was filled.
'Ease away your jib there,' cried the
'fat' party.
Probably referring to a paper-collar, on
which a register person was trying to
write the name of a freeman who had proceeded
us.
'We wish to register,' said the Bludsoe
man, 'just write my name on the lining
of your hat, and you will have it handy
by you when we come-to vote; and look
cheerful.'
And I said: 'No. Bludsoe. Have you
any ill will against this faithful guardian
of the public peace?"
'You might as well get some one to put
a head tnto him at once, as to compel him
to go into society with that name about
him.'
See here, you newspaper 'duffers,' I
know you.'
Said the boy in blue. 'What ticket do
you intend to vote?"
'Prithhee, my gentle clubbits,'said the
Siberian traveler: 'does that materially
affect the writing of our names on one of
these trunks?"
'It do,' said the clubbist.
'See here, Siftey,' said Bludsoe, 'we
goes for the Boss, we do.'
'Yes,' said the adipose party; 'these
freemen all go more or less for the Boss.'
'Oh, yes, Kelso,'I put in, 4we are all
Boss men, and we hare the vouchers to
' prove it
And I produced a paper from the Boss
wherein, on account of circumstances over
which he had no control, he proposed to
sell me the lease and fixures of the Metropolitan'
City Hotel, which the register
people at once recognized, and we were ?
recorded as freemen thereon. j
And the colonel commanded, 'Fat,'
*in.? '
Which the 'fat' man and myself obeyed
with much alacrity and precision, and we
filed out of that stronghold of liberty and
moved back to these "headquarters."
You see, Mr. Editor, it is easy enough 8
to register. All you have to do is to go ^
into some cellar, or other liberty canning
and preserving place, and give your name,
to one of the canners, and you have se- ^
cured your priceless boon. ^
But how to vote; aye, Boss, there's the ^
rub. First it is the duty of every freeman ^
who owns a brick house to vote for the g
Boss, because that extensive real estate ^
agent probably has a mortgage on it, and ^
the mortgagor can thereby secure easier Q
term of payment. g
Next, it is the duty of every freeman ri
who don't own a brick house or any other &
kind of roof but his hair, to vote for the
Boss, because he will pay more than any n
one else for a freeman's exercise of his h
highest right. I
For the benefit of the freemen of the a
last mentioned class I am happy to be n
able to give the following tariff of prices *
of votes at the next election. a:
To each house tarnishing ten or more *
votes for the Boss there will be paid one 8]
to of coal. al
To each register who shall roll up a ma- ft
jority of 100 for the Boss, in lieu of the h
city officer formerly given, there will be gi
allowed one twenty-carat diamond; and to tl
each ward giving such a majority as shall e:
prove the official honesty of the Boss be- tl
yond all question, there will be given ai
one eighth acres of Central Park. fo
But unfortunately for us, Mr. Editor, di
we are not included in either of these two h
classes of freemen. vi
We are iust below brick houses and lust I st
above hair roofs in point of wealth. In e<
short, we are of the Astor House.
We should be willing to own a brick G
house, if we had one, but how can we own n
a brick house without having one, is one d
of those things a voter don't find out un- li
less he is in the ring, and we are too re- tj
spec table for hair roofers. d
We would vote for Gridley, if it wasn't ?1
for Hawkins, and we would vote for Haw- *
kins if it wasn't for Gridley. to
Of course, we can't vote for Shandley *
without voting for Sigei, and how in the ?<
The World, or Iribune are we to vote to
for Sigel, without voting for Shandley? tl
Perhaps we might treat the Tribune "
and the Times candidates as a('stand off" h
but then we should loose the exercise of
our rights as freemen. Undoubtedly it is "
our duty as freemen to pick out some hon- 81
est man and stick to him as long as he *
has a dollar; but that would involve a a
journey to New England or to the far *
West, and railroad passes. u
And you cannot fail to see how we are 81
mixed, sir.
But we are determined to vote. h
I don't say that our votes are in the w
market, but I do say that we feel the necessity
of having the controlling guard- h
lonoo r\f oAmo offlnnnf AffiAo.onoVnr I C4
iouvg vi ovuiv miiuvuv viuw^owavi*
Muldon, Major Heavy Artillery. b
si
u
Home Industry. d
u
ii
It is a mistaken notion by many people, t(
that it is the best interest of every one to ^
buy where they can the cheapest. To get ^
the most for their money seems to be the je
desire of nearly everybody. This to a cer- q
tain extent is correct, but to make this a u
general rule is detrimental to the best in- ^
terest of a town. It should be the aim of
every one to aid and sustain as far as possible
the industry and enterprise of those
of his neighbors who are directly interested
with him in the advancement and improvement
of the place in which they live. ^
The person who supports his home paper tl
is doing this and more. He is giving aid *
and encouragement to something from v
which he not only gets double the worth
aP kio m/\nnr in volnaKla rooilinnr Kilf l'a tl
VI UU7 UJVUVJ 1U TUiUMi/iv a vuuiug^ muw m# Hi
also supporting an institution that gives g
note and standing to a town, and brings v
in trade and money from ail sections of c
the conntry, and will accomplish more h
towards growth and prosperity of a com- o
mnnity than any other one business in it. c
We say then encourage home industry,
and thereby promote the general welfare v
of all.?Home, Gazette. n
I Terrible Heath Scene.
The citizens of this community were
greatly shocked yesterday evening by the
utelligence of the death of Charles H.
)urban and wife, the one dying from the
fleets of a pistol ball in the head fired by
lis own hand, and the wife dying in the
ame room of consumption, ten minutes
,fter her husband. The circumstances of
bis painful occurrence, as near as we can
;ather them, are as follows:
Mr. Charles H. Durban, son of our wellnown
citizen Thomas Durban, Esq.,
bout 23 years of age, a practising attorev.
was married last spring to Miss Lucy
eaman. After marriage, owing to the
ailing health of Mrs. Durban, they resied
at Judge Evans's. The disease with
rhich she was afflicted was that of conumption
of the lungs. Mr. Durban,
rom the testimony of all, was the most
evoted of husbands, kind, generous, and
oblehearted of sons. She continued to
row worse, and as the prospects of her
gcovery Med away Mr. Durban grew
&d and gloomy.
Dr. Ball visited Mrs. Durban yesterday
lorning and found that she could not
>ng survive, a few days at the most,
a the evening he was sent for again, and
rrived at the bedside of the sufferer ten
linutes before 6/)'clock. Mrs. Durban
ished to take some medicine, morphine
nd chloroform, prescribed by the Doctor
hen she was restless and conld not
leep. Her husband asked the doctor
bout giving it, expressing himself as if
airing the desire for the sedative might
icrease. The doctor requested him to
Ive her the medicine) which he did, at
le same tine seeming very nervous and
ccited. He walked partially around
le room with his hands in his pockets,
ad finally stopped at the foot of the
w1. The remedy did not seem to proace
relief. She was then breathing very
ard. The doctor then gave her some
ileriate of ammonia, Mr. Durban still
anding at the foot of the bed, and seem1
to be suffering intensely.
He said to the physician: 4'Doctor, for
od'a sake, can't vou irive Lncv this wife's
ame) something to relieve her?" The
octor told him to wait, that the remedy
ad not had time to act. As the difficul1
of breathing seemed to increase, the
octor told Mr. Durban to bring some unacted
lime, that she might inhale it
hile it slacked. He did so, and attempted
> hold it to her face, but seemed to be unble
from nervousness. She then took a
were fit of coughing, when the doctor
x)k his place and Mr. Durban passed to
le foot of the bed, saying, as he did so,
Doctor, can't you do anything more for
er, she is dying?" The doctor found that
ie would suffocate unless her position
1 the bed was changed, and with the asstance
of her mother and Mrs. Evans
'as trying to change her position, when
report rarg out which filled the room
ith the sound. The doctor, glancing
p, noticed Mr. Durban staggering, and
apposing that he might have accidentalr
shot himself, rushed to him and laid
im on the floor. He did not breathe,
iemiugly, after the shot.
His wife seemed fully conscious of wbat
ad taken place: said she was sorry, but
mldn't cry. She tried to speak again,
t the words were not understood, when
ie breathed her last, there being five to
in minutes in the time between their
eaths. The ball took effect in the right
;mple, a littie above and back of the eye.
a his pocket was found a letter addressed
) his wife, saying that he could not live
ithout her, and if he died first that he
ould meet her in Paradise. There were
itters also to his parents, and a note reuesting
that no Coroner's iuquest be held
pon his body; that it was a matter beiveen
himself and his God.
The Summer Has Elided.
The summer has ended. We see it as
re look upon the fallen leaves that strew
tie ground, and hear it in that coarser,
rilder note which has been added to the
rind-harp.
The summer has ended. Tourists and
ravellers, who have been climbing ruged
steeps, and pacing ocean sands, and
*! -- .IJ 1 1 I 1 V
lewing Clues OIU, mil uew w mem, uavtt
ome back borne again, with renewed
ealth, and though full of the beauties
f creation, and precious memories that
an never die.
The summer has ended. The poor lnalid,
who lay through all the pleasant
lonth on her weary bed, looking out of
the window at the glories without, and
feeling the soft balmy air as it kiesed her
cheek, has faded with this summer, and
gone Where all is summer, all is light, and
musie, and love, and beauty; and her
eyes now rest on the King in his glory*
To many the summer has ended with
their homes in ashes, With ruin sitting
where beauty reigned. Others hare pray
ed for the end of summer when the King
of the pestilence would lay down his sceptre
and his crown. To some, the summer
has brought only pleasant things?Ut
others, ruin and sorrow. But, it has ended.
and wh&tefer It may have taken in
its flight, it has still left us the inestimable
blessings of life.
Irish Bills. '
It was an Irishman Who wanted to find
a place where there was no death, that he
might go and end his days there. It was
an Irish editor that exclaimed, when
speaking of the wrongs of Ireland, "Her
cup of misery has been for ages overflowing
and is not yet fall!" It was an Irish
newspaper that said of Robespierre that
"He left no children behind him except a
brother, who was killed at tha nam*
time," It was an Irish coronet
who, when asked how he accounted for
an extraordinary mortality in Limerick,
replied sadly, "I cannot tell. There are
people dying this year that never died before."
It was an irish hand-bill that announced
with boundless liberality, in reference
to a great political demonstration in
the Rotunda, that "Ladies, without distinction
of sex, wonld be welcome."
i Lad ii his Day.
When Dr. Thompson, a distinguished
Scotch clergyman, was minister to Markinch,
he happened to preach from the
text,;1'Look not upon the wine when it is
red in the cop;" from which he made a most
eloquent and impressive discourse against
drunkeness, stating its evil effects on the
heart, head and purse. Several of his observations
were levelled at two cronies
with whom he was well acquainted, who
frequently poured out libations to the rosy
god. At the dismissal of the congregation,
the two friends met, the doctor being
cloee behind them. "Did you hear
yon, Johnny? quoth the one. uDid I
hear't? Wha didna hear't? I ne'er wink
aA an a'a +Via Vioill umnn 11 K A bmv.1
VV? mm+m v W vuv OViUlVUi A VT lllXj
what thought ye o't?" "Adeed, Davie,
I think he has been a lad in his day, or he
couldna ken'd sae weel about it! Ah, he's
been a slee hand, the meeniater!"
Too Green to Kara.
In Cincinnati there occurred recently a
scene at the door of the Chapel, in
which the prime actor came off considerably
the worse for wear. A young man,
who believe he knew as much as any
other man, had been payfeg-bis attentions
to a youug lady, who, among her own attractions,
possessed a very luxuriant
growth of red hair. The young man coald
not induce the young lady to think him
better than other men, and she finally
gave him the mitten. One evening after
this, thinking his time to get even had arrived,
he stationed himself in the aisle
near the chape) door, and seeing the
young lady coming, threw up his hands,
pretending fright, and exclaimed, "Stand
aside, boys, or you will take fire! Here
?% I 1 iV - 1 - J ? \ 01
cornea " juaLuiug me muy;. ouv
walked very leisurely to where the young
man was standing, stopped, and looked
him in the face, saying, "You need not
be alarmed, Mr. ; you are entirely too
green to burn I
The roar of laughter which greeted the
young man's ear was more than he could
well relish, and be beat a hasty retreat.
1 Frenchman's Troubles.
Prof. Dubois writes us from Portsmouth,
B L, of bis experiences. On one
occasion, after paying bis bill at a hotel,
the landlord told him be was square "I
am told," says the professor, "I never
knew I was square before." "Goodbye,"
said be; "you'11 be round soon."
"I thought you said I was square" "Oy
yes," said he; "but I mean youH soon be
round?you won't be long?" "Of
course," I replied, "If I am square, I will
neither be long nor round." The professor
has made so many of these comical
blunders that he has entered the lecture
field, taking "Blunders" for his subject.