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Vol. IX. WEDNESDAY MORNING, JULY 16, 1873. No. 28. THE HERALD IS P'ULI11ILD FViEILY WENESDAY MURNING, At Newberry C. I., BY THOS. P. GRENEKER, Editor and Proprietor. Terms, 2.050 Per 1nnum, Itvariably in Advance. r,- Trh, paper is stopped at the expiration of time for which it is paid. 9 The mark denotes expiration of sub scription. Voetra. From the Baltimore Saturday Night. OTO THE AUTHOR. WHO PICKED UP A GARTER IN CHURCH." 11Y ONE OF THE OTIIE. SEX. I hve noticed, Mr. Impudenc:, .self-styled "Author," if yo!; please 11ow your subiject you have handled, With such faithfulness and ease; And though little u.ed to ihyming - I will now my Muse enjoin, And besecehli her deft assistance To repay you-in your coin! In the first place, let me ask you Of the right you have to know o niucih about your subject, And dilate upon it so; Or with impudence amazing Say, uhat right have you to trace, "In faiey's eye," that "synmetry" Which once it did embrace ? You're some cgood-for.nothing bachelor, Whom all the girls refuse, So to show your spite on some one You do thus invoke your Muse; But if so, I'm truly puzzled, As you can hardly be such, For %ou surely nust be married, ElSe, how could you know so much? Bnt no matter, wed or single It is all the same to tue, Tot're Impudence par excellence, To which all the girls agree; And at church too! it is shanweful That the "subject" you should move, For your thoughts, sir, let me tell you, $hould'aave becn on dhings above! All your jokes, sir, on the "subject," I'll inform you, were too hold With "Honi soit," you salved tilem, Thinking some would doubtless scold, But you little thought a lonely, Haplegs female % ould essay, Thus to ;rr her weaLly cudgel and belabor you this way ! But, Sir Impudence, i'll leave you Knowinag well you sadly feel, At having found a foemnan Almost worthy of your steel ; And in future let me warn you, In your writiug, have a care, How you dwell on woman's fixins, How you "take off" what they wear! BaltimOl e,. June 26th, 1873. (eledeh (1orp. IOLEM~AN & C0., "PER 0." I am Louis Coleman, half of' the new firm long andl well known in the country as Coleman Co. I want to tell you how I worked my way to this position. At the age of fifteen with my free consent my fatheir signed articles which bound me to give to William R. Lee cabinet-mnaker, the labor of three years. In lieu of board, clothing, etc., the usual equiva lent given, I -was to receive one dollar per week, and at the expi ration of three years fifty dollars ill money. My homne in the mean time, was with my father, who boarded and clothed me. A backwatrd look over those three years seem p)leasanlt to me. .ippose many times during my apprenticeship I longed for moin liberty, more leisure, an'd more money, or~ something different from what I had. I should hardly have been an average boy if I had not, but in the main 1 was tolera bly contented. So eighteen came. The heir of :ani English estate, on the happy day on which he was to take pos stession, could hardly, I think, have felt happier than I. Upon the morning of the day when my in dentures were to cease, Mr. Lee ca:me to me and said: "1 sup ose I shall have to tell you that [ h-ave no further claim uplonl your time after to-night ?" I felt a certain amount of indc penidence as I replied: "1 know it," and drew a sigh of relief. "Come to the office after hourE," he said, and turned away. In the office at night ,LImetimy father, who, with me, sawv the writing canceledI. I then re ceived fifty dollars, shook bands with Mr. Lee, and turned to leave the office. "One moment," said Mr. Lee; "ha:ve you any plans for the fu ture ?" "No, sit-," I said promptly; "to morrow is my eighteenth birth day, and I want to spend it with out a though tof anything." Hie smiled a little gravely, and then said: "WVell take a wieek to think of nothing and then come back to me." Outside I found my fcllow-work men waiting to give me a cheer, for it was customary among us on tsuch occasions to have a general h,and -shake:" "Come, Coleman, .can we not have beer ?" said several voices. This was also customary, and I hesitated a moment, but some. thing said to me, "begin now as you expect to go on," and I said: Thre times the sum, boys. in anything else you like; but let us have no drinks." "Thats so," said one of the num ber; "remember poor Stearns." Stearns was a man whom Lee bad employed again and again. A week since he had been turned away because he came to his work intoxicated, and we knew he had no work since. Mear's remark gave inea thought, and I turned quickly and said: "If the crowd will forego treats. oysters, or what it may be, we'll agree to send the money to Stearn's wife and iunily. My plan took well, and was se conded not only with words, but deeds, and we deputized "Little Tomi, as he was called, to take the money over to Stearn's house. "And mind." said Mears again, "you give it to Stearn's wife, else, it might go for drinks." Then I went home and spent the week after in idleness. Per haps 1 ought to have felt guilty of waste of time. I do not think I did. I thoroughly enjoyed my re. spite and the liberty to be out at any time of the day. A curious feeliig, almost like seeing a new world, comes to a person who having been shut up from the sun shine for a considerable time is suddenly given freedom to walk, lounge or loiter, subject to no hours, times nor bells. My father and mother left me entirely to my self during thD week, though I have since been told that my mo ther's heart beat anxiously for fear I was beginning a downward path. My father restrained her fears, saying: "Give him his time, a week,wifle; let him run to the end of his rope. I think lie will begin to pull in thencm." .1 even deserted the family pew, on Sunday, a thing unheard of be fore, an-d looked in at the different faiths around but no comment was made. Until the appointed time, I had actually taken no se rious thought of the future. Punc tually then, but with a sigh, I pre sented myself to Mr. Lee. My father was also there. Mr. Lee smiled as I came in, and said: "Well Louis, what do you call your last week's work ?" "Relaxation," I promptly re plied. "Does it pay?" le asked. "It has so far," was my re sponse. "But I suppose you expoct to go to work some time ?" said he. The satisfaction of returning to my every-day work came suddenly to me then, and I said with anima tion : "I, do, indeed, and am here hop ing you have work to offer me." He looked pleasant and grati tied. So did my father. Mr. Lee said presently: "I have to offer you my office work. If you wvill engage with me for another three years, I will give you $300 per year, and at the end of that time an additional $100, making it S1'000 f'oi' th.e three years' work. What think you ?" My father then spoke: "Louis, the decision is your own: but the offer is fair. If' you choose to take it,. your board at home is just to pay mother for extra care, say $2 per week; and if you do well, I will cover Mr. Lee's $100 with another $100 the day you are twenty-one. Can you do bet ter ?" 1 knew I could not. I said so. So again I was back in the f'amil iar place, with three years before me, but they proved uneventful, save as the first links which con nected me with the firm- of Cole man & Co. The first duty. assigned me in my new position was the opening of some letters, and the first let ter I opened flaunted with the bill head "Coleman & Co.," My own name ! Just so, some day I should send out large sheets! So I raised an air castle. But this letter con tained, besides the order, some re ference to a superior casket,'' and a slip from a paper making public 'that the decease of Coleman, of the firm of Coleman & Co., would not alter the busgss arrange ments of' the firm. It wou!d still be carried o06 at the old stand, with the same name. Signed Cole man & Co., "per C." I handed the letter to Mr. Lee, who said: "See to your order immediately, and make a note of' the reference to casket, and file the letter on hook G." Hie rose, took down a package o f letters, saying to me: e '"Look at these curious signa tures.: Coleman always signed like that, with a long coil. The son has I suppose, inherited or acquir ed the same curious coil to his signature." I returned ans.wer to the letter, and when finished, a sudden fancy possessed me to make of my "per C." the same fanciful coil. After a few endeavors, I succeeded in doing this, and signed Wmn. Ri. Lee, "per C." making of my "C" an ex cellnt imitation of' the long coiled C appended to Coleman & Co. FEo the three ancceeding years, not a month elapsed that we did not receive an order of some kind, large or small, 'with the same Coleman & Co.. "per C." and then the long coil; which I invaribly an swered with Lee, "per C.," and a flourish of the same round my C. I found myself at my majority in what I thought then, and think now, an enviable state. I had good health, good hubits, a good trade, an average education, moderate ambition, and a nillingness to work, and three hundred dollars a year in ready money. When my time expired with Mr. Lee, he again asked me my plans for the future. Though this time I had many and many a one, they were very indefinite and none of them practical. Mr. Lee, as before, gave advice and opportunity. Ile sent me upon business of his own through different parts of the State, saying: "Look out for yourself as you ,2 and if you find the right busi ness point, let me know." I likcd this change. I was making a *-aluablo acquaintance with business men and the coun try, and for a year longer found nothing which made me desire a change. One night I took a branch road and a new route to reach a certain point, starting with (a most unu sual thing for me) a racking head ache, which the jar and rattle of the cars so increased that by ten o'clock I had determined to ask for a lay-(ver ticket at the next station. I stopped not to ask where, but threw myself into an omnibus, and arriving at the hotel into a room and as quickly as pos. ible. Next morning I awoke with my head clear, but with a feeling of exhausiion that decided me to remain where I was for that day. After breakfast I sauntered out, going slowly up the principal street, gazing idly at the signs, dreamily settling with a home,and a business, and a name, and my sign would read-I started, there it was-"Coleman & Co." Yes, I read it aright, it was Coleman & Co. "Is this Abbetown ?" I asked of a man who was passing. le looked hard at me, but said civilly enough, "It is, sir." I crossed the street quickly, curious to confront the bonafide personages who had so many times appeared to ine under the jagged signature of "Coleman & Co., and singularly coiled "per C." I entered the open door and strolled through the rooms. No thing but a nice lot of cabinet warerooms, with the arrangements perhaps in better taste than is usual in such establishments. A quiet light-haired young man, my own age, came forward.-"Behold per C!" Isaid to myself. He polite ly waited till I had made a survey of the outer rooms; and then ask ed if he could be of service. I said I would like to see Mr. Cole man. A slight hesitation, then he said; "Step this way." Beyond the salesroom, a green baise door opened into a room about twelve feet sauare, neatly carpeted, furnished .with desk, chairs, and sofa. Occupying the room wvere two young women. Oine at the desk did not raise her heitd at my entrance. The other rose and bowed with an air of'a business woman, and the grace of a cultured lady. . For myself I could not strive to conceal the awkwardness I felt. Who could possibly expect to meet ladies in a ladies' parlor in a gentleman's counting room? I managed to bow arnd say: "Shall I beg pardon? I came in expecting to see 'Coleman,' of the firm of Coleman & Co." "I represent the name," the la dy said quietly, then added, "please be seated." Now, if Coleman had been a man, I should have had no diffi culty in stepping up to him, and shaking bands, and introducing myself and firm, and becoming ac quaintances in a mnoment. This, however, was a nec; programme, and I became still more involved by my next remark,which was that the person I wished particularly to see was "per C." Involuntarily I made a circling motion with my thumb. The girl's head at the desk bent low, over the leaves of the led ger. The woman sitting opposite me, with a kept-back smile in her eyes and on her lips, indicated with her eyes the direction of the ledger, and said, "That is per C." Was there ever such a position? I glanced towards the desk. The eyes of the girl were raised from the book and I met my doom ! I yieded to fate.eHenceforth, what ever befel me; my heart .and des tiny was at* the mercy of "per C." There was a pause, and grow ing desperate, I determined to ex plain matters. Rising, I said: "Will you grant me grace for five minutes ?" I had turned away from "per C." and was looking straight into the face of the older woman. She bow ed, just raised her eyes toward the desk, andl I knew then that "lper C." was looking and listen "I am Louis Coleman, of Macon Vile. I have written, I suppose, one hundred letters to -Coleman & Co., of Abbetown. The first I ever wrote was in reply to an or der for a superior casket sent on the decease of Coleman,' of Cole man & Co., I signed it 'per C.' and copied as nearly as I could the pe culiar signature of order sent. It had been a notion of mine never to put it on any other letter" (I wish(d then 1 could bare seen 'per C.'s' face.) I have come to A b. betown quite by accident. The sign it was which attracted my attention, I came to see Coleman. I wanted to see 'per C.' Please don't misunderstand me. Believe me, I did not expect to find affairs conducted by a woman." The lady I addressed, as soon as I had finished speaking, said: "Mr. Coleman," and bowed as she pronounced my name, "I give entire c:-edence to what you have told me.-Four years ago when you commenced your business life, we, too, commenced ours. My fa ther was Coleman, of Coleman & Co. He died suddenly. The Co. is Mr. Hicksey, helpless, in body, but his mind is perf&ctly clear. He always advised, but the busi ness was overlooked entirely by my father. Through my father's short illness, my sister and I took temporary charge of correspond ence, and when affairs called for a settlement. with the consent of Mr. Hickscy, we retained the name and the business. Mr. Hicksey's advice we follow, and have been so far successful. Of course in our town we are known; beyond that people may come to the conclusion that a son has succeeded the fa ther in business. I am Coleman, of Coleman & Co., to the outside world; in proper person, I am Miss Eugenic Coleman. As such," said she with a smile-"as such I in troduce myself to you." I arose, bowed, and turned to receive an introduction to the younger sister as Miss Caddie Coleman. I felt that this was in tended as a dismissal. Taking my hat in hand, I said: "May I see you again before I leave ?" She bowed acquiescence. After leaving Miss Coleman, I indulged in a long walk for-the purpose of settling a plan which had sudden ly presented itself to me, and up ou which I resolved to act. In short, I had suddenly determined to settle in Abbetown. As soon as I had matured a plan, I called on Mr. Hicksey. I pro posed to buy out his interest in the business. He thought he did not care to sell. I then went to Miss Coleman. She said that Mr. Hicksey had been exceedingly kind to them, and she felt under obli2'ations to him; and that he wished soon to advance Harley, his son, to his interest in the busi ness, and retire. My jealousy took immediate alarm, and I sought Harley, the young man whom 1 had seen first in the salesroomn. I was rather surprised to find that he agreed with me, until he gave as his rea son that another hand would keep Caddie out of the place, and that would suit him: Caddie, indeed ! I coolly said; "I shall try to see that Miss Caddie has an inte rest elsewhere, if I take an inte rest in her." He looked at me. I returned it; then we understood each other. I stayed in Abbetown three days longer, during which time I culti vated Miss Caddie's acquaintane as much as I dar'ed. I also told Miss Coleman that I desired to settle in Abbetown; that I loved her sister and wanted to try and win her for my wife. I then re turned to Maconville for a week. I was somewhat uneasy on leav. ing Harley Ilicksey alone in the field, for I thought if he loved the girl as well as I knew I did, that he would not give her up without an effort. In eight days I was again at Abbetown. Harley Hlicksey had again offred himself to Miss Cad. die Coleman, and been refused. Mr. Hicksey knowing this, was ready to conclude a bargain for a sale, and Miss Coleman desired to remain with me, as before with Mr. Hicksey. All this seemed so entirely to my wishes, that I began to fear that I might miss the one thing to which all these yere made sub. servient-the loss of~ Miss Caddie Coleman. But as I had always tried to use my opportunities, so I was not remiss in this respect, and in one year from the time of my settlement in Abbetown 1 was a married man. We, Coleman & Co, are prospering in our busi ness. Mrs. Coleman is a dignified, matronly lady, but among her family she likes and I think will never lose the sobriquet of "per There is a moral to my story. Every boy worth the name prob ably sees it. I will write neverthe less: When a good opportunity occurs, don't sta-nd idle and waji Ristellantons. OUR VISITOR. BY U. H. He came with an interrogation point in one eye, and with a stick in one hand. One eye was cover ed with a handkerchief' and one arm was in a sling. His bearing was that of a man with settled purpose in view. "1 want to see," said he, "the man that puts things into this pa per."1 We intimated that several of us earned a frugal livelihood that way. "Well, I want to see the moaf) which cribs things out of other pa. pers. Tle fellow who writes mostly with shears, you under stand." We explained to him that there were seasons when the most gift ed among us were driven to frenzy by the scarcity of ideas and events, and by the clamorous demands of an insatiable public, in moments of emotional insanity plunged the glittering shears into our ex changes. le went on, calmly, bu. in a voice tremulous with suppres sed feeling, and indistinct utter ance through the recent loss of half a dozen or so of his front teeth. '-Just so. I presume so. I don't know much about this business, but I want to see a man, the man -that printed that little piece about pouring cold water down a drunk en man's spine of his back, and making him instantly sober. If you please, I want to see that man. Ishould like to talk to him." Then he leaned his stick against our desk, and spit on his service able hand, and resumed his hold on the stick as though he was weighing it. - After studying the stick a minute he added in a some what louder tone: "Mister, I came here to see that 'ere man. I want to see him bad." We told him that particular man was not in. "Just so. I presume so. They told me before 1. come ~that the man.1 wanted to see wouldn't be anywhere. I'll wait for him. I live in Hyde county and 've walk. ed several miles to converse with that man. I guess I'll sit down and wait." He sat down by the door and re flectively pounded the floor with his stick, but his feelings could not allow him to keep still. "I suppose none of you didn't ev er pour much cold water down any drunken man's back to make him instantly sober perhaps !" None of us in the office had ov er tried the experiment. "Just so. I thought that just as like as not you had not. Well, mister, I have. I tried it yester day, and I have come seven~ miles on foot to see the man that print ed that piece. I wan't much of a piece, 1 don't think, but I want to see the man that printed it, j.ust a few. minutes. You see, John Smith, he lives next door to my house, when I'm home, and he gets how-come-you-so every little period. Now, whien he's sober, he's all right, if you keep out of his way; but wheh he's drunk, he goes home and bi-eaks dishes, and tips over the stove, and throws hard ware around, and makes it incon venient for his wife, and some times he gets his gun and goes out calling on his neighbors, and it ain't pleasant." "Not that I want to say any thing about Smith; but me and my wife don't think he ought to do so. He came home drunk yester day and broke all the kitchen win dows out ofhis house, and follow ed his wife around with the carv ing knife talking about her liver, and after a -while he lay down by my fence and went to sleep. I had read that piece ; it wan't much of a piece, and I thought if I could pour some cold water- down the spine of his back, and make him sober, it would be more comfortable for his wife, and a square thing to do all around. So I poured a buck et of water down John Smith's spine of back." "Well," said we, as our visitor paused, "did it make him sober ?" Our visitor took a firmer hold of his stick and replied with in creased emotion: "Just so. I suppose it did make him as sober as a judge in less time than you could say Jack Robinson; but mister-, it made him mad. It made him the maddest man I ever see, and Mister John Smith is a bigger than mec and stouter. He is a good deal stout er. Bla-bless him I never knew he was half so stout till yesterday, and he's bandy with his fists too. I should suppose he is the hand iest man wvith his fists Ilever saw." "Then he wvent for you, did he?" we asked innocently. "Just so. Exactly. I suppose Ihe went for me about the best he knew, but I don't hold no grudge ag"ainst John Smith. I suppose heain't a good man to hold a' m.nde nainst, only I want to see .he man who printed that piece. I xant to see him bad. I feel as ,hough it would soothe me to see ,hat man. I would show you how L drunken man acts when you >our water down the spine of the )ack. That's what I come for." Oar visitor, who had poured vater down the spine of a drunk m man's back, remained until kbout 6 P. 11., and then went up ,he street to find the man that >rinted that little piece. The man ic is looking for started for Alas Ca last evening, for a Summer va. .ation, and will riot be bavk before september, 1878. )maha Correspondent New York Tribune. WIPED OUT IN BLOOD. STHAU;i.1fL CILAITER IN THE LIFE OP TH E N EW COM.IANDER AGAINsT THE .3101)CS. As I have never seen the exact acLs ur tie Gait House tragedy )ublished iiL the West, I will, at ,he risk even of making this :ketch too long, here recite them: General Nelson was in coin nand. He stood in the office of .he Galt House one evening when Davis entered. Davis was in -onmand of the disorganized and rregular companies for the de ense of the city, and wishing to inow the position. condition and ivailability of the troops under in. Gen.-Nelson turned to Davis ind inquired: "How many men have you, 3eneral Davis?" "About so many," replied Davis, itating as near as he could the iumber. "Do you know, sir, how many men you have?" cried Nelson, trowimg vry angry. "The inn of my command, as rou know, general, are unor ranized; new ones are constantly 0ming in, and it is impossible for me to tell you exactly how many [ have." "A soldier should know how many men he has. I am ashamed :f you, sir! You are not fit to have command. I will relieve you, sir!" cried Nelson, now in a towering rage. Some other conversation fol lowed; when Nelson was seen to draw back his hand and strike Davis across the face-some say with a glove. Davis instantly left the room, and Nelson commenced a conver sation with some gentlemen, as though nothing had happened, but soon.started to go up stairs. Mean while, Davis- smarting under the nsult he had received, had gone into the bar and borrowed a pistol trom some one, and re-entered the office just as Nelson was leav it. Following to the foot of the stairs lie fired at Nelson, who was on the steps, and with fatal effect, the ball entering Nelson's body. The wounded General caught hold of the stair-railing, and support. ing himself until he was helped clown and laid in one of the side rooms. From the moment the shot was fired, Nelson believed his wound was mortal, and the sur geon soon confirmed his fears. He had exhibited no alarm, and met his late as he had lived, like a brave man. At his request, the Rev. Dr. Torbett, who was in the hotel at the time, w'as called to ad minister to the dying man. Hav ing arranged his worldly affairs, the General was baptised and de voted the remaining brief time al lotted to him on earth to prepar ing his soul for the other world. A little later and he was dead. It is likely that Davis has seen Nelson's skeleton, and that he has many times sincerely regretted killhng him. The provocation was very great, and let no man say what he would do under liko cir cumstances until ho has been tried. We must remember that the shooting occurred at a time when there was g r eat excitement throughouat the country, and when men were fearfully wrought up; and we must remember, too, that Davis was in feeble health, and his mind rende-red sensitive by bodily suffering. After the shooting of Nelson. Davis gave himself up to the au thorities, who confined him for twventy days, and then released him, in obedience to the almost uniiversal demand of public opin won. A Brooklyn' sea captain, just re turned from a tour of the Holy Land, expressed himself disgusted with Je rusalem. "It is the meanest place I ever visited. There is not a drop of liquor in the whole town fit to drink." Tobacconists and drink-mixers lose $10,000 by swears-offs on New Year's day, but make double that sum the third week in January, when the lambs come back to the fiock thirstier aud hungrier than ever. A New Hampshire farmer scouts the idea of taking a newspaper at two dollars a year, and posts a notice og tlie selhool house that --3 lioggs hev rma or bin stoolen" from him. POLITE CHILDREN. "'T'hank you, 'harlie," said Mrs. Brown, as her little son handed her a paper he was requested to bring. iThank you, Bridget,' said the little ftllow a few hours after, as he received a glass of water from his niurse. 'Well, 31.rs. Brown. Vou have the best mannered children I ever saw,' said a neighbor. -I should be thanktul if mine were as polite to me as yours are to the servants. You iever spedi !alf as m1uch time on-your chibirei's clothes as I do, and yet every one notices them, they are so well-behaved.' 'We always try to treat our chidren politely,' was the quiet reply. This wast he whole secret. When I hear people grumbling about the ill manners of their children I always wish to ask, 'Have you always treated them with polite ness?' I once knew a man, consid cred quite a gentleman in society. who would speak to his children in a manner that a well-ins'ructed dog would resent. He would or der them with a growl to bring him his slippers, or perform some other little service; and yet com plained of the rudeness and dis obedience of his children. Many parents who are polite and polished in their manners .o ward the world at large, are per feet boors inside the home-circle. What wonder if the children are the same? If they should acei dentally brush against another in the stlects, an apo.ogy would be sure to follow; but who ever thinks of offering an excuse to the little people, whose rights are constant ly being violated by their careless elders? If a stranger offers the slightest service lie is gratefully thanked, but who ever remembers thus to reward the little tireless feet that are traveling all day long up stairs and down, on countless er rands for somebody? It would be policy for parents to treat their children politely for the sake of obtaining more cheerful obedience, if for no other reason. The cost less use of an 'If you please.' and 'I thank you,' now and then. will go far to lighten an otherwise bur densome task. Say to your son, '-John shut that door,' and with a scowl, he will move slowly toward it, and shut it with a bang. The next time say, 'John, will you shut the door, please?' and he will hast en with a pleasant smile to do your bidding. Many children as they grow old er, are obliged to learn the rules of politeness as they would a lesson. The consequence is when they ap pear in society they are awkward and blundering. On the other hand, children who have been ac customed to politeness at home, are at their ease in the most po lished ecreles, and are saved that confusion and bitter self-condem nation which are sure to follow any breach of the rules of eti quette. Some children, learning from their parenuts, seem to consider p oliteness at home affectation! Broth ers who would jump up with alacrity to give an easy chair to some dashing miss of their ac quaintance, will appropr-iate it to themselves when at home, without the slightest appar-ent conscious ness of the presence of a sister or perhaps a mother. 'My brother is as polite to me as any one else, when I go out with him,' said a girl proudly to a com panion. What a reflection on his manners at home! A sister will perhaps accidenta4ly knock over some of the tools with which her brother is busy. An apology in voluntarily arises to her lips, but she stifles it on considering that it is only Jack; and all the satisfac tion he is offered for disorder-ed plans is a blunt, 'Oh!" Angry re procaches are sure to follow. 'You are real ugly, Jack, to talk so about such a thing; you know I didn't mean to,' is thc equally angry re joinder. Why did she not say so? Two words would have saved all the trouble. Want of politeness is the cause of more quarreling among brothers and sisters than anything else. In their plays ebildren are constantly meeting with little accidents, for which they should be taught to apologize. I have seen the cheeks of a child flush with anger, his eyes flash. and( a little hand i-aised to stirike the unfor-tunate breaker of a toy'. wvhen, as if by magic, thne blow was at-rested by these woi-ds, 'Ex cuse, I did not mean to.' Polish is not everything. It is however something. It is better 'to have a black kettle that is sound, than a bright one with a hole in the bottom; but there is no reason why the sound one should not be bright too. It is of the first importance that childr-en should possess those ster ling qualitiec which fit them for battle with temptation and sin: but do not send them out in the world in gieat clodhopper boots. Shine them up, and both happinest ADVERTISINC RATES. A.iverlicmcnts inserted at the rate of .0 p-r squiarc -one incl ---ior first iisertion, and 7.3. for each .nsequent insertion. Doubi (oumn zdvertisenivuts ten per cent on above. Notices of neetings, obituaries ani tributes of respeer, same ac tes er square as ordinal y a1ei-emnents. Special noticeS in local column 20) cen, ier ine. Advertisemen:s not marked with the num ber of insertions will be kept in till forbid and cbged accordingly. Special contracts made with large adver tiser,, with liberal deductious on above rates J0 F91wfew Done with Neatness and Dispatch. Ternis Cash. TIaE DoMEsTic GROWLER.-Look at him ! he is a eniriosity. He was pleasant enough an' hour ago. as he sat in his office talking to Jenks. With his chair tilted back,the toes of his boots resting against the maitel-plece, his mouti exteided in a loud guffaw in reply to one of Jack's yarns, you would have said he was one of thejolliest fellows in the world. But he does not look so now. He has lowered his hat over his eyes. and got his family face otn. lie considers it bad domestic policy to come home looking smiling and cheerfu; it would not only luwer his dignity as master of tho hout. hut it would encourage his wife and children to the asking of all sorts of favors, and the run ning of goodness knows what ex travagances. The only way. as he believes, to keep i> - prope system of household authoritv, and reduce household expenditur-e to its certain limits, is to always find fault, and never relax for a moment the system of d6inestic stinubbing. Of course, the coming home oi the Growler is not looked for with joy. All pleasant influence take Wing. The very atmosphere b)e comes charged with depressing or explosive material. The cook spills the gravy, and blackens the toast for the pigeons: the wife is afra:d the soup will not be all right, or the pudding done to the precise turn; the children huddle in a corner and talk in whispers, and no one feels that they can breathe a free breath until "pa" is gone. Who would be a growler? Ledger. REORGANIZING THE MILITIA.-The Chester Reporter. replying to an ar ticle in the Charleston Chronicle, on this subject. says: "The object of re-organizing the miili ti- is the same that it was in 1S70. It is for the purpose of getting up trouble and confusion in the State, so that while the attention of the press and the people is distracted thereby, those who have control of.or access to moneys of the State. may steal and plunder at their will. We predict that the future will prove that the organization of the militia at this timue, is either to prepare for sonme an ticipated robbery of the State Treas ury or to raise a row in the State, un der which can be hid the evidence of some rascality that has already beeni perpetrated by the State Admainistra tion. Time will prove this to be the case.* The Londoa postnmet. who at short time ago) refused stri pes intdicattingr meritorious services, have now accept ed them, as they have been made an accompaniment of increased pay. A Minnesota farmer lost a gimlet. three years ago. The other day he cut down a tree. and found in it a thres-quarter inch auger. So nueh for 'utting a thinet out at interest. The newspaper reporters in the Missouri Legislature have refuse-d a donationi of $75 voted to each of themi, taking the high morah ground that they had no right to take it. A new English edition of the Prayer Book changes. by a typo.rtph ical error, the verse in Psalns, --Th'lou hast broken my botnds " into --thou h ast broken my bones." A Kenttucky man purchased a cof fin fifteen .years ago so as to have it hatndy, and the other day lie was burn ed up in a limaekiln. and the coffin was a dead loss. The heaviest brain on record was recently found ini the skull of a Lon don bileklayer who could neither read nor write. It weigrhed sixty seven ounces. In numbers. the sexes are very nearly equal in the United States: males 19.439.565. females 19.064706m; but the distributien is no,t even. Newburg. N. Y.. calls commerciacl travelers "forei"n retail merchatnts."' and wants tbemu to pay 8100 apiece for licenses. Chinamnen are said to make good market gardeners. No peGple like them for minding their peas and their (ques. of fame," is the Indianapolitanm way of describing a ho'secaan's duty act a tire. There is not a single maanufac.turer of lead pencils who makes a good pen cil for reporters at a reasonable rprice. A Poughkeepsie clerk loves the very grond a Highland wid'ow walks upon. It is worth $200 an acre. 'He fell down dead and expired in two minutes," says a Georgia paper of: the death of a negro. An editor may not be reliaiuus. but he ge.nerally has an umbrella which keeps lent. If it wasn't for the law, a man could make a fortune in half~ the