The Newberry herald. (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, July 16, 1873, Image 1
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.
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r,- Trh, paper is stopped at the expiration of
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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