Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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A Family Companion, IDevoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture Markets, &c Vol. X. WEDNESDAY MORNING, JUNE 24, 1874. No. 25. THE HERALI IS PUBLISRED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORSING) At '.ewberry C. K-9 BY TH09* F, GRENEKERt Editor andl Proprietor. Tel-AW,, $2a.5.1per *i4W luvariablY in Adrance. np The paper is stopped at the expiration4 time for which it is paid. 29- The >4 mark denotes expiratiou of sul bcription. SLEEPINiG IN CfHUR~CH. Thi follovring parody on Tennyson' "Charge of the Light Uigade" i-; baised up on the statement inade bY Dr. Guthrie thli at a lurge reli-it;ns tneetiu- lie wice atteri ed. he actualiy counted six hundred peopi O'er their devoted bead,~ While the law thunder'd, Snu,ly andI heedlles-zy snored the six hundred, Cirest was the preacher's theme; Screw'd on was all the steam: Neither with sbc)ut nor scream Could he disturb the dream Of tbesix hundred. Terrors to the risjht of them, iThv to the left of them, Tesions in front of them Hel! itself plundered Of its MDst awful things, WeA-16inded preacher flingri Arthe dumbfounded. Boldly he spoke and well; All on deaf ears it fell; Vain was his loudest yell VoleY'd and thunder'd; For caring-the truth to tell Neither for heaven nor hell; Snored the gix hundred. StiU, with redoubled zeal, St*bql spoke onward, And, *)a id appeal, StrWoig with, hand and heel Making the pulpit feel, - -,V4en md thndered Called them the church's foes; Threatened with endless woes. Fady the answer rose (Proof of their sweet repose) but there is no resource with th~ mf~ImQtA? ft ~~annnn lAt lnnst~. Xe rations! One has to deal with a pro jectile which thinks, seems to pos sess ideas,and which changes its di rection at each instant. How stop the course of something which must be avoided ? The horrible cannon flings itself about. ad vances, recoils, strikes to tb right, strikes to the left flees, passes, disconcerts am bushes. break down obstacles, crushes men like flies. The great danger of the situation is ii the mobility of its base. How combat an in clined plane which has caprices ? The ship, so to speak, has light ning imprisoned in its womb which seeks to escape; it is like thunder rolling above an earth quake. IQ an instant the whole crew were on foot; the fault was the chief gunner's; he had neglected to fix home the screw-nut of the mooring-chain, and had so badly shackled the four wheels of the car ronade that the play given to the; solo and frame bad separated the platform, and ended by breaking the breeching. The cordage had been broken, so that the gun was no longer secure on the carriage. As a heavy wave struck the port, the carronade, weakly attached, recoiled, burst its chain, and be gan to rush wildly-about. Conceive, in order tn have an idea of this strange sliding, a drop of water running down a pane of glass. At the moment when the lash ings gave way the gunners were in the battery, some in groups, others standing alone, occupied with such duties as sailors per form in expectation of the com mand to clear for action. The carronade, hurled forward by the pitching, dashed into tli; knot of men, and crushed four at the first blow; then, flung back and sho: out anew by the rolling, it cut in two a fifth poor fellow, glancing off tothe larboard side, and struck a piece of the battery with such force as to unship it. Then rose the cry of distress which had been i heard. The men rushed toward the ladder-the gun-dek emptied in the twinkling of an eye. The enormons cannon was left alone. She was given up to herself. Sbe was her own mistress, and mis tress, of the vessel. She could do what she willed with both. This wvhole crew accustomed to laugh in battle trembled now. To describe the universal terror woiuld be impossible. Captain Boisberthelot and Lieu tenant Vienville, although both in trepid men, stopped at the head of the stairs, and remained mute, pale, hesitating, looking down on the deck. Some one pushed them aside with his elbow and descend ed. It was their passenger, the peas ant, the man of whom they had been speaking a moment before. When he reached the foot of the ladder he stood still. The cannon came and went ralong the deck. One might have ifancied it the living chariot of the SApocalypse. The marine 'ian tern foscilating from the ceiling added a dizzying whirl of lights and Lshadows to this vision. The shape of the cannon was undistinguish Sable from the rapidity of its course; now it looked blIck in the light, now it cast weird reflections Ithrough the gloom. It kept on its work of destruc Stion. It had already shattered four other pieces and dog two crevices in the side, fortunately fabove the water-line, though they Swould leak in ease a squall should Icome on. It dashed itself franti Scally against the frame-work; the js oli d tie-beams resisted, their curved form giving them gr-eat rstrength, but they ex-eaked omi u ously under the assaults of this Sterrible club, which seemed endo w Sed with a sort of appalling ubi Squity, striking on every side at I once. The strokes of a bullet e shaken in a bottle would not be madder or more rapid. The four r wheels passed and r-epassed above a the dead men, cut, carved and ;slashed them, till the five cor-pses t were a score of stumps rolling a about the deck ; the heads seemed e to cry out; streams of blood twisted h in and out of the planks with ev -ery pitch of the vessel. Thlle ceil ing dlamaged in several places, be t gan to gap. The whole ship was , filled with the awfu.l tumult. h The captain promptly recovered . his composure, arid at his order the sailors threw down into the deck every thing which could wdeaden and check the mad rush of Sthe gun-mattresses, hammocks, -spare sails, coils of rope, extra equipments, and bales of false as sigrnats. But what could these rags avail ? ts No one dared to ascend to arr-ange s5 them in any useful fashion, and in e a few instants they were mere yehapns f lint There was just sea enough to iender an accident as complete as possible. A tempest would have been desirable; it might have thrown the gun upside down, and the four wheels once in the air, the monster could have been mas terel. But the deva-tation increased. There were gashes and even frac tares in the masts, which, imbed ded in the wood-work of the keel, pierce the decks of ships like great round pillars. The mizzen-mast was cracked. and the mainmast itself was injured under the con vuisive blows of the gun. The battery was being destroyed. Ten pieces out of the thirty- were dif abled; the breaches multiplied in the side, and the corvette began to take in water. The ol4 passenger, who had de scended to the gun deck, looked like a form of stone stationed at at the foot of the stairs. He stood motionless, gazing sternly about upon the devastation. Indeed, it seemed impossible to take a sin gle step ;orward. Each bound of the liberated car ronade menaced the destruction of the vessel. A few minutes more and shipwreck would be inevita ble. They must perish or pnt a sum mary end to the disaster-a deci ion must be made--but how ? What a combatant-this cannon! They must check this mad mon ter. They must seize this flash of lightning. They must over throw this thunder- bol. Boisberthelot said to La Vieu ville, "'Do you believe in God, -he val ier?"' La Vieuville replied, "Yes. No. Somiietimfles." "'In a tempest?" "Yes: and in moments like thi'." "Of!ly God can -lid us here," said Boisberthelot. All were slient-the cannon kept wI) its horrible fracas. The waves beat against the ship ; their blows from without responded to the strokes of the Cn non. It was like two hammecrs alter natng. Suddenly, into the midst of' this sort of inaccessible circus, where' the cscaped cannon leaped and bounded, there sprang a man with an iron bar in his hand. It was the author of this catastrophe, the gunner whose culpable negli, gence had caused the accident the captain of'the gun. Having been the means of bringing about the misfortune, he desired to repair it. He had ca.ught up a han dspike in one fist, a tiller-rope with a slipping noose in the other, and jumped down into the gun-deck. Then a strange combat began ; a Titanic strife-the struggle of the gun against the gunner, a b'attle between matter and intelligence, a duel between the inanimate and the human. The man was posted in an angle, the bar and rope in his two fists ; backed against one of the riders, settled fir'mly on his legs as on two pillars of steel, livid, calm, tragic, rooted as it were in the planks, he wai ted. He waited for the cannon to pass near him. The gunner knew his piece, and it seemed to him that she must recognize her master. He had lived a long while with her. How many times he had thrust his hand between her jaws! It was his tame monster. lUe began to ad dress it as he might have done his dog. "Come," said he. Perhaps he loved it. He seemed to wish that it would turn toward him. But to come toward him would be to spring upon him. Then he would be lost. How to avoid its crsh ? There was the question. All stared in terrified silence. Not a~ breast respired freely. except, p)ehance, that of the old man who alone stood in th* deck with the two combatants, a stern second.. He might himself be crushej by the piece. He did niot stir. Beneath them, the blind sea di rected the battle. At the instant when, accepting this awful hand-to-haind contest, the gunner approached to chal lenge the cannon, sonme chance flutuation of the waves kept it for a moment immovable, as if suddenly stupefied. "Come on!" the man said to it. It seemed to listen. Suddenly it darted upon him. The gunner avoided the shock. The struggle began-struggle unheard of. The fragile matching itself against the invulnerable. .The thing of flesh attacking the brazen brute. On the one side blnd force, on the other a soul. rre whole pnased in a half.iight. .It v;as like the indistinct vision of a miracle. A soul-strange thing; but you would have said that the cannon had one also-a soP filled with rage and hatred. This blindness appeared to have eyes. The mon ster had the air of watching the man. There was-one might have fancied so at least-cunning in this mass. It also chose its moment. It became some gigantic insect of metal, having, or seeming to have, the will of a demon. Sometimes this colossal grasshopper would strike the low ceiling of the gun deck, then fall back on its four wheels like a tiger upon its four claws, ard dart anew on the man. He-supple, agile, adroit-would glide away like a snake from the reach of these lightning-like move ments. He avoided the encoun ters; but the blows which he eseaped feil upon the vessel ond continued the havoc. An end of broken chain re mained attached to the cannonade. This chain had twisted itself one could not tell how, about the screw of the breech-button. One ex tremity of the chain was fastened to the carriage. The other, hang ing loose, whirled wildly about the gun, and added to the danger of its blows. The screw held it like a clinch-. ed hand, and the chain, multiply ing the strokes of the battering rain by its strokes of a thong, made a fearful whirlwind about the cannon-a whip of iron in a fist of brass. This chain compli cated the battle. Nevertheless the man fought. Sometimes, even, it wap the man who attacked the cannon. He Crept along the *ido, bar and rope in hand, and the cannon had the air of understanding, and fled as if' it perceived a snare. The man pursued it. fbrmidable, fearless. Such a duel could not last lon g. The gun seemed suddenlv to say to itself, "Come, we must make an end !" and it paused. One felt the I approach of the crisis. The can non, as if~ in supense, app-cared to have, or had-because it. seemed to all a sentient being-a furious premeditation. It sprang unex pectedly upon the gunner. .He jumped aside, let it pass, and cried out wvith a laugh, "Try again !" The gun, as if in a fury, broke a carronade to larboard ; then seized anew by the invisible sling which held it, was flung to starboard to ward the man, who escaped. Three carronades gave way un der the blows of the gun ; then as if blind, anid no longer conscious of what it was doing, it turned its back on the man, rolled from the stern to the bow, bruising the stem and making a breach in the plankings of the prow. The gun ner had taken refuge at the foot of the stairs, a few steps from the old man, who was watching. The gunner held his handspike in rest. The cannon seemed to perciv him, and without takin-g the trouble to turn itself, backed upon him with the quickness of an axe stroke. The gunner, if driven back against the side, wvas lost. The crew uttered a simultaneous cry. Sut the old passenger, until now immovable, made a spring more rapid than all those wild whirls. He seized a bale of the false as signats, and at the risk of being crashed, succeeded in flinging it between the wheels of the carron ade. The bale had the effect of a plug. A pebble mnay stop a log. a tree branch turn an avalanche. The carronade stumbled. The gunner, in his turn, seizing this terrible chance, plunged his iron bar be tweeni the spokes of~ one of the hind wheels. The cannon was stopp)ed. It staggered. The man,. using the bar as lever, rocked it to and fro. The heavy mass turned over with a clang like a talling bell, and the gnnner, dripping with sweat, rushed forward head long, and passed the slipping noose of the tiller-rope about the bronze neckc of the overthrown monster. It was ended. The man had conquered. The ant had subdued the mastodon; the pigmy had ta ken thle th under-bolt prisoner. The marines and sailors clapped their hands. The whole crew hurridd down with cables and chains,'and in an instant the cannon was securely lashed. The gunner saluted the passen ger. The old man had resumed his impassible attitude, and did not reply. "Sir," he said to him, "you have saved my life." Temnhad conquered, but Te mh a httecno honnnnt ayat the cmARao j had conquered also. Immediate shipwreck -had been avoided, but the corvette was by no means saved. The dilapidation of the vessel seemed irremediable. The sides had five breaches, one of which, very large, was in the bow. Out of the thirty carronades, twenty lay useless in their frames. The carronade which had been captured. and rechained was itself disabled; the screw of the breech button was forced, and the level ing of the piece impossible in con-; .4equence. The battery was re-i ticed to nine pieces. The hold had sprung a leak. It was neces sary at once to repair the damages and set the pumps to work. The gun-deck, now that one had time to look about it, offered a terrible spectacle. The interior of a mad elephant's cage could not have been more completely dis mantled. However great the necessity that the corvette should escape observation, a still more imperious necessity presented i t s e l f-im mediate safety. It had been ne -essarv to light up the deck by anterns placed here and there ilong the sides. But during this whole time this .ragic diversion had lasted the Arew were so absorbed by the one Inestion of life or death that they ioticed little what was passing out-; ide the scene of the duel. The og had thickened; the weather 1ad changed; the wind had driv en the vessel at will; it had got )ut of its route, in plain sight of Jersey and Guernsey, farther to the sooth than it ought to have Yone, and was surrounded by a troubled sea. The great waves kissed the gaping wounds of the ,orvette-kisses full of peril. The sa roeked her menacingly. The breeze became a gale. A squall, a tempest perhaps, threatened. It was impossible to see before one four oars' lenoth. While the crow were repairing WuIMarily and in haste the rava- i ,es of the gun deck, stopping the leaks and putting back into posi 6ion the gun which had escaped lisaster, the old passenger had gone on.deck. Hle stood with his back against the mainmast. He had paid no attention to a proceeding which had taken place >n the. vessel. The Chevalier La Viuville had drawn up the ma rines in line on either side of the mainmast, and at the whistle of the boatswain the sailors busy in the rigging stood uprijrbt on the yards. Count du Boisberthelot advan eed toward the passenger. Behind the captain marched a man bag. gard, breathless, his dr'essin disor der, yet wearing a satisfied look under it all. It was the gunner who had just now so opportunely sh own himself a tamer of monsters and who had got the better of the cannon. The count made a military sa lute to the unknown in pleasant garb, and said to him "General, here is th a man." The gunner held himself erect, his eyes downcast, stabding in a soldierly attitude. Count du Boisberthelot contin ued : "General, taking into consid eration what this man 'has done, (10 you not think there is some. thing for his commanders to do?" '-I think there is," replied the old man. "Be good enough to give the orders," returned Boisberthelot. "It is fo you to give them. You are the captain," "But you are the general," an. swered Boisberthelot. The old man looked at the gunner. "Approach," said he.. The gunner moved forward a step. The old man turned towar Count dii Boisberthelot. detach ed the cross of Saint Louis from the c.av.ain's uiniform, a'd fasten ed it on the jacket of the gun ner. "Hurrah !" cried the sailors. The marines presented arms. The old passenger, pointing with his finger toward the bewildered gunner, added.. "Now let that man be shot." Stupor succeeded the applause. Thenu in the midst of a silence like that of the tomb, the old man raised his voice. Hs said : "A negligence has endangered this ship. At this moment she is perhaps lost. To be at sea is to face the enemy. A vessel at open sea is an army which gives battle. The tempest conceals, but does not absent itself. The whole sea is an ambuscade. Death is the penalty of any fault committed in the face of the enemy. No fault is reparable. Courage ought to be rewarded, and negligence pun ished." These words fell one after -the othe slowly, a.nd snlemnly. with edge to anything good under the sun. and you turn with eagerness to the gentler nature that, though not so sparkling perhaps, is more just and may be as witty. It is a singular fact that many who write easily cannot converse with pleasure either to themselves or to their listeners. Give them pen. ink an(d paper, and their thoughts flow rapidly; jest, quip and repartee, gush with a delicious freeness; memory throws open her well lined chambers, and culls out every radiant gem that will enhance the beauty of the subject they are handling. Fancy, like a willing hand maid, stands on tbe qui vive, to throw in all the bright sparkles needed-reason, with her solid beauties, is at her side eager to do duty, and wit will fguide the pen. But place the same persons in company, and nine times out of ten, all these faculties play them false, and they stutter and stammer through some disconnected unmeaning or stilted speech. whose obscurity brings the blush to their cheek as they think it over afterwards. Cole ridge, one of the most noted con versationalists, or rather monolo gists of the litera'ry world, is said to have almost lost the ability to t,write well, before the develop ment of his grand conversational powers, and after they were so strongly niarked be wrote little or nothing. The persons who can listen well, and yet who can offer ready sug. (restions throwing in here and there a remark that will bring out all the capability of those around, are often deemed interesting talk Ors, when in reality the secret lies in the tact they possess of drawing out the powers of those with whom they are in contact; and they are generally popular, for ev cry one who can talk at all, likes a good listener. A close-reading of good authors, an apt memory, a graceful ease in bringing in a happy quotation, an observant eye, quick to catch what may be passing around, and travel, constitute ail the ingredi ents necessary to make a really b r i 11l i a n t conversationalist. Though one may be eloquent with all these elements, no one can converse well who has not thought thoroughly upon some subject. The mind must be train ed to analfze, decompose and re construct, and then the language with Which the thought is clothed will be eloquence. Conversation can be, and should be, cultivated as an art. Like any other accomplishment, it can be acquired with more or less trouble, according to the natural capacity for i' ; and like reading aloud with exp)ression and ease, it is some thing that cannot cost too much troubleein its acquirement. These two stand at the topmost round of the ladder of elegant accom plishments, for music itself must yield the palm to them. Some converse freely with all alike; others cannot talk well without congenial spirits -around -like the fire in the flint, it must be struck with antagonistic steel, to flash ; but these talkers are of ten the most witty and original, and when once in full vein, are well worth listening to. In read ing, that it may be of service in conversation, do not read as a pas time, but reflect and -digest thor oughly the idea the author wishes to inculcate, and weigh its merit; compare it with other writers on the same subject, and do not fear to read and re-read; then put your thoughts upon it in words, and speak them to some friendly critie. In this manner, you will acquire the art of conversation. ( New Orleans Times.. THE ART OF NOT H-EARING. TVhe art of not hearing is fully as important to domestic happiness as a cultivated sar, for which so much time and money are expend ed. Some people feel so very anxious to hear everything that will vex and annoy them, they set about scarcbingoit out. If all the petty things said of one by the heedless or ill-natured idlers were to be brought home to him, he would become a mere walking pin cushion, stuck full of sharp re marks. It is not worth while to hear what your servants say when they have slammed the door; what a beggar says whose petition you have rejected; what your neigh bors say about your children; what your rivals say about your business or dress. I have noticed that a well-bred woman never bears an impertinent remark. A kindi of discreet deafness saves one from not a. little apparentL con nivance in dishonorable conversa tin.--..Ruange. a sort of inexorable measure, lik( the blows of an axe upon an oak. And the old man turning to th( soldiers, added: "Do your duty." The man upon whose breast shown the cross of Saint LouiE bowed his head. At a sign from Count du Bois berthelot two sailors descended between decks, then returned. bringing the hammock winding. sheet. The ship's chaplain accom panied the two sailors; a sergeant detached from the line twelve ma rines, whom he arranged in two ranks,six by six; the gunner, with out uttering a word, placed himself between the two files. The chap lain, crucifix in hand, advanced and stood near him. "March !" said the sergeant. The platoon moved with slow steps toward the bow. The two sailors who carried the shroud fol lowed. A gloomy silence fell upon the corvette. A hurricane moaned in the distance. A few instants later there was a flash ; a report followed, echoing along the shadows; then all was silent; then came the thud of a body falling into the sea. The old passenger still leaned back against the mainmast with folded arms, thinking silently. Boisberthelot pointed towards him with the forefinger of his left hand, and said in a low voice to La Vieuville, "The Vendee has found a head!" -lipis 1r20ou. CON VERSATION. It is somewhat singular how few persons there are who are ready and interesting conversa tionalists. This is perhaps owing to the fact that there is too little ains taken with our young folks to induce the habit of thinking over what they see, hear and read, and then putting their thoughts in language that will interest. Our young peop)le read but little that is really improving, or not being trained to put even that lit te'to good service, their conversa tion is generally made up of trifles and light nonsense, very closely resembling the froth on a bumper of champagne-sparkling, but ex tremely light. They graduate early in the light persiflage com mon in general society, and as a rule seem to think it all that is necessary to entitle them to high honors as entertaining and even witty personages, and their gay spirits and merry hearts make their rather silly trash pass cur rent for more than it is worth. But of an evening when out i-n company, quietly listen to the elders-those who do not dance and what is the general tone ? Servants, a little morceau of scan dal, or that never ending subject of interest to some parents, the smart sayings and doings of their remarkable children, and the weather, comprise about< all the topics under discussion, with rare exceptions. Occasionally you will meet with a lady who has read and i~s not afraid of being thought a4slue stocking, will discuss the works she has read, and can form and give you an opinion upon their merits and demerits, which she has not taken from a review ; or who loving the drama enough to have a close acquaintance with Shakspeare, Beaumont, Goldsmith, Fletcher, and others of their ilk, is quite capable of appreciating a good play and of criticising it wvhen badly played, as good plays too often are. But these ladies are rare~ aves, somewhat like oases on that great desert of society, where the light and glittei, like the mirage the thirsty traveler sees, is ever prIomisirg pleasure to the intellect which it does not give. Mere talkativeness is not a sign that the speaker is capable of uttering anything worth the hear-in g or remembering. Some times it would be. well if a bridle could be put upon the tongue of those who talk too freely, or if what they said could be forgotten as soon as said,for it is too often mis chievous in its nature, 'talJng they knoN niot wvhy, and care not what.," or who is wounded by it. They do not converse, but babble. Some one has said that no one can be brilliant in conversation who is not csustic and a little given to scandal. This is not trueo, for one of the most delightful conversation alists we have ever met,never spoke an ill-natured word, or made an uncharitable remark. There is no doubt that a close, observant, fluenIynie does make an hour's conversation glide rapid -yb,btyutreo h oes oyne-,ided youttitewifltnottonenol nna.airlarl that it will not anknnwl. i NEWSPAPER PATRONAGE. We copy the following from the Selna Times, but we hope nobody wiil have the hardihood to say we endorse it : There appears to be many differ ent ways of understanding the true meaning ofnewspaper patron-. age, as it is called, and as arr inte rested party, we give place to a disquisition on the subject, by one who knows whereof he speaks. It will serve, perhaps, as a mirror in wbich certain parties may "see themselves as others see them." Many long and weary years of experience in tht. publishing busi ness has forced the conviction up on us that newspaper patronage isa word ofmany definitions, and that a great majority of mankind are either ignorant of the correct de. finition, or are dishonest, in a strict biblical sense of the word. News paper patronage is composed of as many colors as the rainbow, and as changeable as a chameleon. One man comes in and sub scribes for a paper, and pays for it in advance, and goes home and reads it, with the proud satisfac tion that it is his. He hands in his advertisement, asks the price, pays for it, goes to his place of business, and reads the advantages thereof. This is patronage. . Another man asks you to send him the paper and goes off with out saying a word about the pay. Time passes on, and you are in need of money, and ask him to pay the sum he owes you. He flies into a passion, perhaps pays, perhaps not, and orders his paper stopped. This is called patronage. Another man has your paper for a long time, and,becomes tired of you and wants a change. Thinks he will have another paper. But he don't pay; oh, no! he has to keep your money to buy another paper. Pay comes when you sue him. Such may be called news paperpatronage. One man brings in a fifty cent advertisement and wants a two dollar puff thrown in, and when you decline, he goes off mad. Even this may be called newspaper patronage. Another man don't take your paper--it is too high-pricedI-but he borrows regularly and reads it. And that could be called newspaper patronage.. One man likes the paper; he. takes a copy and pays for it, and gets his friend to do the same; he is not always grumbling to you or others, but has a friendly word. [f an accident occurs in his sec tion, he informs the editor. This is newspaper patronage. Another man has taken the pa per several years..but has not paid for it, and in he comes with an advertisement which he wants inserted free, because he is "an old patron."~ This is called patron age. One hands you a marriage or other notice, and asks for extra copies of the paper containing it, and when you ask him to pay for the papers, he-'looks surprised you surely don't take pay for such small matters. That is called newspaper patronage. One man, it is good to see such, comes in and says, "The year for which I paid is about to expire, I wan't to pay for another." He does so and retires. This is news paper patronage. Now, is n't new.spaper patronage a curious thing ? Ini that great day when the gentleman in black gets his dues-as he surely will -how many of the patrons enu merated above will fall to his 'share ? While it will be seen that while certain kindis of patrons are the very life and existencerof: newspapers, there are other kinds of patronage that-are more de structive than the "deadly night shade." SoME OF THIE PRESENTS.-Ang the most costly gifts presented to Miss Nellie Grant were a dessert set of eigh ty-four pieces by George W. Childs, and a complete silver dinner service by A. J. Drexel, of Philadel phuia, the combined value of them be ing probably $4.500 ; Secretary Fish, a large silver tankard; General and Mrs. Sharpe, of New York, a ring with a stone cameo set with diamonds; Post master-General Crcsswell, a very ham:isomiie silver ice cream service; ex Senator C:attell, a diamond ring, five stonIes ; L. P. Morton, of New York, ani emerald and diamond ring; these two rings are probably worth one thousand dollars each; Secretary Rob eson, a toilet set and side pieces, brass, elaborately finished of the style of Louis XIV; A. T. Stewart, of New York, the largest size lace-pocket hand kerchief, such as sell for $500; Gen. Babeock, an elegant valenciennes lace fan, with a smoked pearl frame, with the monogram of the bride in gold. Kr~. Sartoris presented 'to his wife a large and:choice collection of flowers. The present of the father of the bride is ten thousand dollars; also all the immediate members and relatives of the President's family, five handsoule prCeents. -- ~ wq "MOW. ADVERTISINC RATESW Advertimements inserted at the rat* of $1.00 per s% --7Re-ojnche1-for:fit ineuo j5e- tbr- euh ise ietinieirti., Double counaveteet tenper cention above. cewfieeinr'A~tus$indutibates of respect, same raWe per'square as 6rdinary adverisements. Spe"'.1,1p~e i 3o0al column 20 cents per IiT$C - Ad ~ tk~th the num ber4 '4nt~nulbekiI til forbid 4 t , __S - d e' st-overatts. Do Xwii I4eae and D*NjAtCb. -Terms Chk.. P&RABLE FOIR XTT IlL E daomi,e the' ypoung4 And- lovely dagtrof SalatjkOel ;,6 dith was troutled,An. 'prit, because at the approaching f ast dfrinpets, she - woW&d be-coMPAl6ed ip- appear in. her pjaia, gadyedL Ookii,hile some of heryoftg acquaintance would appear-in Mlue ad purple and fine- line"of 19gYPL. P~m ther saw the -gloo, &that sonred upon, the fuce otthe ,l1vely,,ehild, and taking her, Apa 1edt ber this parable: - - ~* A dove.th.us 'aeher4oisp1sint to the guardian. s dfr$a, Jefth cred-tribe: "Mind GeWwVhY i Ii v the hoarse-voiedadsiuti cock spreid~is ganud7 traint the sn, nd~zint, i 1#bof passer-by, 'hi1rt plumage--yaml Overl~~ d"ir gotten: by Idl by~y'ind. Genius-,seen.frott6-,-bef-- ~to. % ards. those 'vmdr70-lcic- w and protection."*. : The Geniu ~ ~ em plaint, and thus reie I1 will ;rzqt e-i~ tar in riehaegs toth l o~he'; dy bird'tho,u'seemett and shal[ demand of ihree4bO .4 00"n- - -dition*in re*turn." - within us, and though i~ may pass away like the faded7t~af and