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A Family Companion, Devoted to literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c. Vol XII. WEDNESDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 20, 1876. No. 38. T HE N E RAL D IS PUBLISHED E~VER1Y WEDNESDAY M011SING, it 'Newberry, S. C. BY THOS. Fe GRENEKERt Editor and Proprietor. Ternts, $2.50.per Jnrn.m, InvariablY in Advance. 7- Tbe paper iq stopped at the expiration of tine for which it is Paid. D 7 The >4 mark denotes expl.mtion of sub cription. GOD BLESS THE FARMY. God bless the farm-the dear old farm! God bless Its every rood, Whete willing hearts and sturdy arms Can earn an honest livelihood Can from the coarse and fertile soil Win back a recompense for toil. God bless each meadow, field and nook, Digemmed with fairest flowers, And every leaf that's gently shook By evening breeze or morning showers; God bless them all; each leaf's a gem In nature's gorgeous diadem, The orchards that in early spring, Blush rich in fragrant flowers, And with eac&,aatumn surely bring Their wealth of fruits in golden showers; Like pomegranates on Aaron's rod, A miracle from -Nature's God. And may he bless the farmer's home, WVhere peace and plenty reign; No happier spot 'neath heaven's high dome Doth this broad, bounteous earth contain, Than where, secure from care and strife, The farmer leads his peaceful life. Unvexed by toil and tricks for gain, E[e turns the fertile mold; Then scatters on the golden grain, And reaps reward a hndred fold; "At six." Early the next morning 1 hitched up "Old Sorrel," and in company with the stranger, drove rapidly to wards North Troy. It was a bitter cold day, a day when nature needed a little assistance, if ever, and when about fouri miles out-passing through Newport woods-I drew a ask of brandy from my pocket, and holding it up to the stranger, observed, "Here, friend, this is too cold a day to ride without some thing to drink-take some." "No-thank you," said he, "I never use stimulants." "Take hold, take hold," said I, "we can fill it again at Dodge's." "No, I never drink, never," said he, emphatically. "I have suffered too much from it." I felt rebuked that he did not rink. I had been debating in my mind for the last two miles, whether to sound him in a roundabout vlay, nd find out whether he ever drank ; r whether to put a bold front on the matter, and offer it to him at once. But I never had the good luck to carry a teetotaller, and had therefore come to the very sage conclusion that teetotallers didn't travel. But for once I had got a live total abstinence man, actually transporting him thirty miles on the line. I thought him stupid -very. Dodge's is a rum shop, situated n the Missiquoi River road, be - ween North Troy and Richford. [t is a place of conside:able no oriety-celebrated in the country %round as a low-lived, dram drink ing establishment, from which fows a continued stream of moral nd physical death to the sur rounding neighborhood. It is a favorite resort for the abandoned nd reckless. I was not at this time a drunk ard. 1 was unwilling to admit that I was a moderate drinker. True, now and then, as on the present occasion, I thought it no harm to take a drink of brandy, in order the more effectually to keep out the cold. I detested . drunk ards. I was not at all alarmed about myself and wondered how any one could be so foolish as to think me in any danger, yet my wife had often begged of me to abstain totally. No other human being seemed to think of such a thing as becoming too strongly at tached to my cups. My wife I thought a very foolish little love of a woman, and myself a very sti:ong minded man, capable of drinking a bottle of brandy now and then, without becoming a drunkard. On the present occasion I found no difficulty in disposing of the bran dy, without the assistance of my staid companion. When we arrived at Dodge's I had drank the last drop, and drew rein for the pur pose of replenishing my flask. "Not here, not here, friend ! for Heaven's sake have respect enough for my feelings not to enter this miserable place ! Drive on, I have something to tell you." Grasping the rein as he spoke, old Sorrel shot by in an instant and went trotting on toward Rich ford. He had got something to tell me ! What in the name of ra hre could it be ? Was it possible that so stupid a companion had had a bit of romance in his life! Nothing of the kind, I was sure. Perhaps he meant to regale me with some hackneyed temperance lecture. I consoled myself with the thought that in the course of two hours I should be back to Dodge's again. "Do you see that ruin yonder, like the remains of one of the prim. itive log-houses ?" "Plainly," said I. "Well, sir, ten years ago this winter, I found a dear sister there -found her, sir-found her ! Rum did it ! and I must te]l you the tale. I was one of a family of eight children, brought up in the good old State of Connecticut. My brothers and sisters wereal dear to me--but not alike dear; Alice, younger than myself, th( companion of my youthful hopes and struggles, was dearest of all tc me. Amiable and gentle, she seemec pure as the beings of nmy imagina nation-a concentration of all thai was good and lovely. 0, how] loe our Alice Too well, toi well! She was my idol. remem ber how I almost wished to chide her from giving part of her love to George Dane, the village lawyer. I wished to be all that was dear to her, as she was all that was dear to me. "George was manly and intel lectual, and I had no reason to op-. pose her choice. Neither did I, only that I regretted to lose from the home society one so dear. They were married, and a life of happi ness seemed a sure reward for their purity and devotion. For two years-years I have reason to be lieve of unsullied joys to them they lived in the same village with us. At the end of that time George determined to go to Northern Ver mont. They moved to T-, and for a time, long and endearing let ters of their condition and pros pects in their new home were re ceived and eagerly read in the home circle. But after a time they grew less frequent-less encourag ing-and at the end of a year and a half ceased altogether. There was a cloud in our old home-a shadow on the hearthstone. Fearful fore bodings were felt by that band of loving hearts. Again and again we wrote, but months rolled around and no tidings came. But one re source remained-I must seek my lost sister! "Permit me to observe here, my friend, that my scruples were not opposed to spirit-drinking at this time. I was not a drunkard, but carried a bottle with me at times drank when I wanted it, a11d was alwaysin for a jolly good time. I was, in common parlance, a moderate drinker, as the most debauched are, previous to becoming drunkards. If there were no moderate drinkers, there would be no drunkards. "In due course of time I arrived at my destination in T-. I was surprised at the thriftless and general woe-begone appearance of the place. There was not a re spectable looking house .in the place, no appearance of enterprise and business, but a look of wretch edness and poverty, that made me shudder for the fate of my dear Alice. But Alice was gone. In answer to ,iy enquiries, I ascer tained that they had lived for awhile in comparative comfort and respectability, but that latterly they had come to want and left the village. Nothing more satisfactory could be elicited. No clue to their whereabouts-they had disappeared, no one knew where. "I spent a week in visiting the neighboring villages, and then re turned home. The joy of our house hold had departed forever ! "About a year afterwards an op portunity occurred for engaging in business, as agent for a manufac turing company, and required trav el in Vermont and Canada. In the course of tis tour, one cold day, in winter-so cold and stormy that traveling was impracticable, I fond myself laid up at Dodge's, with a fair prospect of a week's stay, and to tell the truth I rather liked it. I had in my trav els become more addicted to the ardent, and I was the lion of the place, the 'rich stranger,' who was liberal with his treats. I found time pass swiftly, and-I blush to own it now, sir,-pleasantly. The storm continued for three days without intermission-one of those cold, north-western blows and snow storms, that leave the snow piled in huge drifts, or wreathed fanci fully into shapes of wvondrous beauty. "In the evening of the third day, a little girl, thinly clad, and be numbed with cold, came softly into the bar-room, and smuggled in be tween the great stove and the wall. I was not as yet, thank heaven ! hardened to look upon suffering unmoved-and I instinct ively fetan interest in the little stranger from the moment that I saw her, and my interest was great ly enhanced when I noticed that she timidly shrank from observa tion, and seemed intently watching for some one. I divined at once Ithat she was an angel of mercy, sent b3 some lonely, suffering mother, Lo persuade home some drnken reveller from this misera le den of dath. Drawing a chaii close to the stove, and speaking as kindly as possible, I asked her to come to me. "'Don't, don't, please don't whip me, sir,' said the little thing, sob 1 bing. "'No, my dear, I wish to help you. What are you here for this cold night' "'Please, sir, to find pa.' "'Is your pa here, my little one -tell me which is your pa?' "'I can't see him, sir, but ma told me to come and tell him that she was dying.' "'Your mother dying; where does your mother live-when did your father go away from home?' "'0, a great while ago, sir ; I don't know how long. But I am going back. We've got no fire, and nothing to eat, and &a is cold.' 1"'Wait, little one,' said I, and sitting her down behind the stove, I pushed into a room adjoining, where a few minutes before I had seen Dodge enter, and where I found that personage engaged in assisting a bleared and bloated in dividual to dress. "'Mr. Dodge,' said I, 'there is a little girl in the bar room who has come to get her father.' "'Tell her to go home,'eaid the drunken wretch whom Dodge was assisting. "That voice! "No, I was not mistaken! Time and intemperance had not been able wholly to change it. I had heard it when it inspired happier feelings; but I could not be mis taken, it was the same voice still. The drunken wretch-who I af terwards ascertained had been dead drunk, for three days-was GEorGE DANE. "The true situation of affairs flashed upon my mind at once. I pictured to myself Alice, the wife of a wretched drunkard, suffering, perhaps starving, at t1ais very mo ment, and I so near. I took the little girl in my arms, and walked out ir the cold night air. "'Where do you live, my little one ?' said I, 'I am going home with you to see your mother.' "'0, ma will be so glad, she's so cold and hungry; will you, please, sir, give me something to carry to ma to eat ?' "I hastened back, and filling my pocket with cakes and crackers, re turned, and taking the child in my arms, pushed through the snow in the direction indicated by the child, to her home: And such a home ! All was dark, still and cold. Not a breath to tell that a human being inhabited4 the place; no feeling of warmth, nothing but cold, dark silence. But the child ran 'to one corner of the miserable hut, ex claiming: "'0, ma, ma, wake up ! The man has brought you something to eat; ma won't you wake?t' and she sobbed as if her little heart would break. "She continued talking in this strain to her mother, making all kinds of endearing little speeches to rouse her, and telling her that 'they would have some supper now,' and 'ma don't you want to see youir little Alice any more-ma, the good man has come to see us.' She kept talking and sobbing, while I, by the aid of matches and a jackknife, succeeded in kindling a little fire, which grew and grew, till the room was lighted, and some degree of warmth imparted. "It was a terrible feeling to know that I was in that wretched abode with death and my sister ! There was nothing that deserved the name of furniture in the room. Not a chair, not a stool, not a bench even, except a cupboard in one corner, to indicate that it was ever a human habitation. Close by the fire, on a nest of straw, was the cold, ema ciated form of my dear sister Alice ! What a meeting was this after a five years' absence ! I took her by the hand-it was cold as death. I raised her up and held her to the fire, and rubbed my hands rapidly over the wrists and temples to impart warmth. Is she dead ? 0, this must not be ! Look at me Alice ! I am your brother, come to save you. I could not bear the thought that she was dead At lngth cam the rward of my labors. She breathed, faintly it was true, but life-no she was not deadl. Calmly I worked on, and slowly, yet surely, my sister was coming to life. She spoke, but her mind evidently wandered. "'0, George,' said she, 'I am so glad you have come, and you are so changed. I thought I should die, I was so cold and hungry. I sent little Alice after you, and you were so good not to beat her. I had such a sweet dream. 0, George, it is growing dark. I am dying.' "'It is me, Alice; look at me.' "She swooned away exhausted, gasping for breath. Just Heaven! what if she should die now! No, I must save her! I went to the door and got a handful of snow, and by the warmth imparted by my hands, succeeded in melting it, and applying a few drops to her lips, and bathing her temples, she again revived. "Her eye was clear, calm and natural now. There was the same sweet look as of old. But she was white-0, so white and deathlike. She looked more like an angel from the spirit-world, than the flesh and being - she really was. Extending her hand towards me, she murmured in a voice sweet in its softness and sadness: "'Henry! is it Henry V "'Yes, Alice, it is Henry come to take you home to your father and mother.' "'0, Henry, is it possible? What a horrid memory !' and she pressed her hands over her eyes, as if to shut out some horrid image of the past. 'But it is over now. I have seen the death-angel-I am going soon. 0, Lord Jesus, have mercy on my child, my dear little Alice. Is not George here' "'No, he has not come yet. But don't have such thoughts, Alice. You are not going to die. Cheer up, you must go home with me.' "'Home! yes, I am going home now. Hold me in your arms, brother, I am so weak. I wish that George was here to see me die-he was kind to me once, but he was led away. Rnm did it. He did not mean to be so bad, but the best so ciety drank here. He couldn't drink a little without drinking too much. Tell him I forgive him. Tell my father and mother I have sffered, but I am happy now. I longed to write and let you know all, but I hoped for better times. I hoped every revel would be his last. But 0, the power, the power of rum! It is fearful, Henry, the power of rum ! George has fallen -he is a victim. The world will condemn him, but the world can never know how bravely he strove to break 'the charm. The world don't know how much he has suf fered. They know his sins-his suffering they do not wish to know. Poor George, there is no rum in Heaven!l'. "She continued to speak, but fainter and fainter, till her voice died to a whisper. "'Henry, you drink. Don't de ceive me-I do not love you the less, but I fear for you. 0, how I have prayed that you might be spared this awful fate. It is an awful thing to be a drunkard ! I shall die. in your arms. As you love me, Henry, as you wish to meet mue in the spirit-land, prom ise me that you will drink no more. I cannot bear the thought that you, too, will be a drunkard. It is the last prayer of your dying sister, that you will not drink another drop of rum?i Will you promise?t' "'I do promise, Alice, never, as I hope for Heaven, never will I drink again.' "'0, thank you, thank you, Henry-you are the same noble brother. I can die easy now.~ Take little Alice-give her to father tell him to let her have her mother's place in his heart. Bury me in the church-yard with sister. Kiss brothers and sisters for me-tell them to meet me above. Tell George-' "There was a slight quiver-a gasp-and the spirit had returned to God who gave it. "She sleeps now in the old church-yard, the link that connects my soul withL Heaven. "I have kept my promise. Not a drop has passed my lips to this day, and by the help of God, there never shall. This, sir, is the reason why I never drink. I have seen hundreds of sisters and wives made miserable by rum ; but I never realized the awful sin of drunken ness till it was brought home to me and mine. And now, stranger, join with me, and throw your bot tle into the Missisquoi, and you will never regret it." HOW TO MAKE COUNTRY TOWNS ATTRACTIVE. Mr. Henry C. Bowen delivered an address at the fair in Wood stock, Conn., in which he made the following remarks in closing:. The time is not far distant when the people in all towns and villages will organize and go systematically and joyfully to work in making public improvements. Those places which move the soonest will reap the earliest and greatest renown, for they will gain in population the re fined, the most enterprising and wealthy, and make permanently secure their prosperity. Real es tate will increase in value, taxes will decreased because of the in crease value of property and of population, and everybody will be made happier and better by the change. It is time to think of the improvement of your public streets and highways. It is time to . think of sidewalks and shade trees along all your high ways, of public parks and foun tains, of bathing-houses and boat houses, of flowers and shrubbery of grading and leveling, of doing everything in .your power to make all these beautiful hills and valleys bud and blossom as the rose, and be more and more your pride and joy. In this good work you must unite, harmonious, and persevering, and the blessed yearly investment of time and money you will make will repay you a dividend every day the year round and all your life long, and thousands shall share in your investment when you are dead and forgotten. Let every man, woman and child do some thing,.in this matter, and do it promptly. You can at least plant an elm or a rose bush every year, and you will not have lived entirely in vain. A single word more un der this head. I hope the time will speedily come when it shall be called a punishable offense for any man to make the public highway a depository for all his old broken carts, and stone heaps, and old rubbish from his garret and barn, from the cellar and dooryard. Such act9n is harmful, demoralizing, and a public nuisance, and it should be rigidly forbidden and prevented. You have the power thus to do, and I hope you will have the dis position to enforce it. It is for the public good that this should be done, and that is reason enough. And hereafter, if a man wants a nuisance let him have it in his own dooryard, where he can see it, ponder over it, and smell it every day, all by himself. Those towns and villages will most prosper which fastest multiply their local ttractions. You will all, of course, vote for schools, churches, and workshops, and this is right, but you' must march onward beyond these points as fast as you can with a proper regard to other duties. Look out for public institutions and endow them. Look out for your streets and highways, and improve them. Make your town, your vil lage, and your home more and more beautiful every year. Your hearts will be made better, and your souls will be richer for so doing. Pardon this frien.lly criti cism and accept my best wishes for your continual prosperity. A little girl wa~s asked what was the meaning of the word happy. She gave a pretty answer, saying: "It is to feel as if you wanted to give up your things to your little sister." There is nothing half so sad in life as the spectacle of an auctioneer attempting to sell $15,000 worth of goods to an audience whose aggre gate and tangible assets foot up1 thirt cents. DARING BIDE. The perilous adventures which the early pioneers encountered, and which even now our Western set tlers are familiar with to some ex tent, are well illustrated in the following incident in the life of .Miss Cooper, sister of a Missouri settler, recently deceased. This adventure occurred about the year 1815: Just at daybreak the settlement was alarmed by an attack of In dians, and it was only by the ut most bravery and daring that they were retained in check long enough to allow the families to rush inside the fort for safety. Once within the wall they held the savages at defiance-for a time only. . On consultation it was decided that the whites could resist but a short time the attack of the In dians; an*' order to secure aid, a corier mu e sent to the Kin caid fort, almost immediately op posite, and about ten miles from the place in which they were sur rounded. There were but few men, and it was too hazardous a trip to think of sending a woman. What to do they knew not. But delay was dangerous; every moment was fraught with peril, and had it not been for the heroism of Miss "Millie" Cooper, in all proba bility they would have all perished. She stepped calmly forward and bade them bring her a favorite horse belonging to the family, and with the tears and prayers of her imperiled friends, rode forth on her noble mission. As she dashed out of the enclosure the murderous In dians let fly a shower of arrows, and with blood trickling.down her horse's sides, she fairly flew from danger. In a short time she arrived at the Kincaid fort and related her story. Reinforcements were sent out im mediately, and before the dinner hour the rascally redskins weie routed and the settlerssaved. The noble bravery, of the 'young girl won her a name that was not soon~ forgotten. The following horse talk is, at least, rational and worthy of con sideration: "Suppose you were in the harness, and I were in the wagon, I had the whip and you the traces, what ardent advocate you would be for kindness to the irra tional creation?i Do not let the blacksmith drive the nail into the quick when he shoes me, or br my fetlocks with a hot file. Do not mistake the 'dead eye' that nature put on my foreleg for a wart to be exterminated. Do not cut off my tail short in fly-time. Keep the north wind out of our stables. Care for us at some other time thai during the epizootics so that we may see your kindness isnot selfish. My dear friends our interests are mutual. I am a silent partner ii your business. Under my sounc hoof is the diamond of national prosperity. Beyond my nostril the world's progress may not go With thrift and wealth and comfort. I daily race neck and neck. B4 kind to me, if you want me to bE useful to you." A man named Bodda turns ui: in London, who states in court thai he "gets his living by making claims on singers who sing copy righted songs in public, and taking out summonses in the names of the proprietors." It is said that the subscriptioi book trade has fallen oif in latE years, but that the profits to the authors from this method of salei is still more than by the usual man ner of publication. A New York policeman arrestei a boy while in the act of drinking milk from milk cans under the stoops of private houses by means of a rubber tube inserted througl the iron grated door. A Georgia theorist, who wishe to increase the production of cori in the South, proposes a tax of $24 an acre on every acre of cotto3 more than five which may be raise< by any planter. To bury a man living is a ver; ADVERTUSINC RATES* Advertisements inserted at the rate of $1.00 per square--one inch-for first insertion, and 75c. lor each subsequent insertion. Double column advertisements ten per cent on above Notices of meetings, obituaries and tribuic 2 of respect, same rates per squarn as ordint y advertisements. Special notices in local column 15 cew.s per line, Adverdeementts W g6zm&ed witb the .umni bor bftweIo4*'M be kept--&- tffl ffrbid .-Speciili 1 d I lreavr Done with Nczines- *lzd Diapateh Terms Ca -h. A MINISTER WHO COULDN'T STAND THE TEST. A Well-known cegmnwas crossing loke Erie many Yeaks ago upon one of the lake steamers, and, seeing a small lad at the wheel SWernv- ther -boat acowU&h19m as follows: "4MY son, you appear to be a small boy to steer so large& boat." ,yes, si ;-but yqu we;AA4ea -do it though." "Do you think You understand your business, my son ?" "Ye, sI thin I do." "(Jan you box the compass?" "Yes, sir."1 "Let me hear you box it" Boy boxes the compass. "Well really, yon can do it! Let me heat you box it backward." Boy box6s it backward. "I declare, my son, you do seem to understand your business." The boy now took his tur que s tion asking. "Fray, sir, what may be your business ?" "iua iitrofteGse.