The Newberry herald. (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, February 21, 1877, Image 1
A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c.
' Vol. XIII. WEDNESDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 21, 1877.
THE HERALE
19 PUBLISHED
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORlNING,
At Newberry, S. C.
BY THOM. B. GRRKKR,
Editor and Proprietor.
Terms, $2.50 per .Innznn
Invariably in Advance.
J he paper is stopped at the expirationc
t me for which it is paid.
The >4 mark denotes expiration of sub
sciptionl.
GOD'S SUNLI1GHT.
Look up to meet the sunlight !
Droop not in dark despair,
Though shadows be thy earthly lot
With sorrows, pain and care.
Though earthly love elude tby grasp,
And bright dreams fade away
Yet! for earth, and for all, God's snnligh
beams
With pure and steadfast ray.
We may not see through blinding tears
The brightness far above;
We may not feel through storm and cloud
The sweetness of his love
Yet, God's pure sunlight still is there,
And shineth for us all
The sad, the weak, the weary soul
That heeds its silent call.
The cares of life, the sins of earth,
May veil it from our eyes,
Till, tossed by earthly wind and storm,
We seek for parer skies;
When, gazing upward through our tears,
The darkening veil is riven
And burst upon the weary soul
The sunlight pure of heaven.
For heavenly love surrounds us still,
And heaven may still be ours,
For life withgrief is ever mixed,
to her own room. fancied
moment. From beneath its cov- 1
ers peeped the white head of an
old farmer.
"Good even', miss," said he.
"I've been to the post-office, and
they said there was letters for
Wilton's folks, and I fetched 'em
over. A'int got my glasses with I
me, so I don't know who they are
t writ to ; but you can see. All 1
well ? - That's right. Good-eve- t
nin'."
And away he drove, leaving 1
Jane with two letters in her hand, t
one for herself and one for Annie
Conyers.
Her own was from her mother. c
She knew the writing; the other
-well she knew the hand that
directed that, also.
It was from Mr. Craig.t
"And am I to give it to her ?" t
muttered Jane, between her teeth
-"'I !" *
And then, with an impulse f
which seemed to her unconquera
ble, she hurried away towards a t
wood, hiding both letters in her t
pocket.
At least she would delay her
rival's happiness ; she would not c
carry it to her at once.
Then alone in the green shadow c
she took the letter from her pock
et, and looked long and curiously
at the superscription.
Yes, it was from Craig, and
what had he said? Perhaps, af- t
ter all, he was not in earnest. f
'Could she but read what he had
written, she would know. l
She took a pin from her dress,
and drew it along the edge of the I
envelope. It opened a little space,
but the rest clung as closely as
before. Impatient at this, she
forgot all prudence, and drew the .
pin across the paper with a sud
den push. It cut its way through,
and the mischief was done. Jane's
heart beat hard and fast with ter- 1
- ror, but she had gone too far to
stop.
"I shall know the truth," she
said ; "and lettere are always be-C
ing lost in these country post-of
fices ; P1l read it, since I've torn
it." Then she pulled away the
envelope, spread the sheet of pa-J
per on her knee, and read the fol
-lowing words:
"DEAR MISS ONYERS :-It seems]
odd that a man of thirty should
be afraid to stand face to face with
a girl of twenty, and tell her that
he loved her ; but I could not
summon courage to do so, nor to
ask the question that follows such
a confession. So, far from you, I
commit my hopes to this paper,
and having in plain words said I
love you, ask you in plainer words
Sstill-do you love me enough to
> be my wife ? If you do, write to]
> me at once, I pray, and make me
the happiest man on earth by tell
ing me so. If you do not, then
Spain neither of us by a refusal ;
b simply leave my letter unan
swered. I can bear it better so.
IBut I shall pray for the letter, fori
I love you better than my life.
HARRY CRAIG."
Jane drew a deep breath. "So
it has gone as far as this," she said.
"What fools men are ! She will be
glad enough to say 'yes,' but if I
should destroy this bit of paper,
he would never know it; and then
-well, then he would do his best
to fill her place. Men's hearts
never break, and there is no one
~whom I know suits me better.
That old man who gav.e the letters
never read the address. There
bcan be no inquiries made. It
Swould be safe to destroy it, dan
gerous not to do so now, even if 1
wanted to read it.".
'Then Jane tore the letter in two,
Sthrust it into its envelope, and
looked about her. It would be
Sdangerous to tear it to bits in the
Swood. Its white fragmen ts migh t
attract some eye among the green.
Sness of the grass. But hard by a
Ipretty stream babbled away over
Sstones and pebbles., Once thrown
into the water, that was the end
Sof it.
e Jane hurried to the water-side,
San&1 looking over her shoulder, as
, one niight who expected to see a
2 ghost. tossed the little package
e in. Ijt jgll with the closed side
t downwara and distended by the
a toru note,7 which was roughly
thrust into sit. The surface was
a hard and h\ghly finished, and
a shaped so asito resist the water.1
r A little breeze thbat had just sprung
> up favored it, and away it floated]
i lien a li,ti bloat. deftly clearing
the shore and tacking and turning
% it passed the dark, half-bidder
breasts of the little rocks ovei
which the water played.
"Good-bye," said Jane, laugh
og, as she watched it. "I havc
>et a vessel, freighted with th(
iopes of Harry Craig, afloat ir
ine style. I am afraid it wil
nake shipwreck, but all the bet
er for some one else. It's an il
vind that blows no one any good.'
ind, turning, she tripped towarc
,he house.
At this moment, farther along
,his same stream where, in a littlE
ove, lay hidden a great tangle o
vater-lilies, Annie Conyers sat in
6 rough little boat, rowed by Mrs.
Vilton's son Peter, a shock-headed
)oy of twelve. Little Fannie Wil
on sat beside her, and the twc
irls drew up the dank, dark green
tems of the great, beautiful white
lowers.
"If one could only carry them
,o the city," said Annie ; "but
,hey always die. How greedy I
=m, I can never get enough. But
ve'll leave the buds until they
)pen-and there comes one down
,he stream to us. Let's try to
:atch it, Peter."
Peter, in obedience to the man
late, rowed his boat into deeper
vater, and Annie leaned over the
iide with her hand outstretched
,o catch what she fancied was a
bating lily.
"Pshaw !" she cried, with a
augh, as it came nearer, "it's no
,bing but paper ! But it seems tc
e dodging me! I'll catch it, what
'ver it is!"
And with these words her white
ingers closed on an envelope, not
et soaked through, and within
vhich lay, torn and crushed, paper
still dry.
"Why; it has my name on the
)ack !" cried Annie. "I never de
itroy a letter when I am away
rom home."
Then her face changed, and the
bildren saw her pale and flushed
s5 she pieced the torn letter to
~ether and read it through.
"Is anything the matter, Mish
Lonnie ?" asked Fanny.
"What should be ?" said Peter
'What a litt,le goose you are
"Nothing is the matter chil
ren," said Annie ; "only as the
dage says, 'Truth is strange
,an fiction !'"
"Eh !" cried Peter.
"So odd for a letter of mine tc
loat to me on the river," said
innie.
"Ha, ha, ha! Aint it ?" roared
P~eter.
And it was stranger than Petei
cnew, for it was Craig's love-let
:er that Annie had just read.
She was a wise little wvoman
und kept the matter to herself
>t Fannie did not.
"Wasn't it funny, ma ?" shi
ried. "Miss Annie found one o:
er letters floating down th<
tream, just like a boat, when wi
were getting water-lilies."
"0 1" cried Mrs. Wilton, for a
~his moment the teacup Jane hat
ifted to her lips dropped fron
~er hand and dashed to pieces or
he floor.
"CHow careless of me!1" crie<
rane.
"Hope you haven't spoilt you
fress ?" said Mrs. Wilton ; but al
rane lifted her crimson face fron
~he fragments of the broken cup
she met Annie Conyer's eyes.
Women sometimes talk to eaci
>tber with their eyes; two dit
~ben.
But Annie was generous in he:
~riumpb. She never told Craig
~nd she sent Miss Heth an invi
~ation to her wedding, which
fiss Heth, with many regrets
elined.
A man who was about to b<
mnged in Indiana, sang, as h~
tood with the noose about hit
2eck, "Ob, the bright angels ar<
waiting for me." Whereapon th'
ocal editor fiendishly wrote, "An<
then the angels stirred up the firi
and locked brighter."
A recent lecturer advises al
nen to "know themselves." That'
~dvising a good many to form ver:
ow and disreputable acquaint
isallaenus.
FOR THE HERALD.
BROADBRIM'S NEW YORK
LETTER.
NUMBER FoUR,
DREADFUL CONDITION OF THE STREETS
-FRANKLIN'S STATUE-THE YOUNG
EDITOR IN THE TALL TOWER
CHATHAM STEEET-THE FIVE
POINTS-GRAND DUKE-RO
MANCE OF A POOR YOUNG
MAN-FASHION NOTES,
&c., &c., &c.
"It's werry sloppy and rather
muggy, and I don't see no chance
of its gettin' no better," remarked
Jack, my porter, as he fussed
around my table this morning,
vainly endeavoring to get the dust
off a pile of newspapers, with the
'stump end of what was once a
feather broom. "I've watched
this 'ere kind o' weather pootty
close for several year," he remark
ed, "and I hev ginerally obsarved
that when it don't get no better
it ither stays where it is, or gits
was." I looked out of my office
window-Jack was right. Ugh,
it makes me sick to look at the
streets, continents of slush, sur
rounded by oceans of mud-rivers
of dirt dotted with islands of filth
as far as the eye can reach. Here
is a horse down, blocking Broad
way with swearing coachmen and
stage-drivers-dirty gamins and
bawling policemen-and, mercy
on me, there goes that fat woman
with the basket down on her
new dress that must have cost ten
cents a yard, if it cost a nickel;
and no.w look at that big patch on
the-well it's not a nice place to
have a patch of dirt. I pulled on
my two-story Arctics, buttoned up
my coat, took a look at an acci
dental insurance policy that I had
in my side pocket, and sallied out.
I ran tho muck-a-muck of Broad
way successfully, mierely losing
one rubber and getting my left ear
and my overcoat pocket full of
mud. I crossed the Park and tak
ing off niy hat reverently to the
statue of.Franklin, which sancti
fies Printing House Square, ob
served for the first time that he
had turned his back on The Tri
bune office, and the young editor,
whose eagle eyrie is away up in
the tall tower near the sky. I
pass by old Tammany Hall, now
occupied by Dana and The Sun.
Ah, me, the light of other days is
faded since Captain Rynders led
the Empire Club, eleven hundred
strong, down through the Sixth
ward, and Mike Walsh, with the
Spartan band at his back, was good
for two thousand majority from
the Bowery to the river. I love
Cbatham street ; thbere is such a
sweet and pleasant perfume of old
clothes, ancient boots, and dilapi
Fdated hats about it, that it is real
ly quite refreshing. I love Chat
ham street as I remarked before,
because there are no new smells
Lthere ; it's the same old smell that
SI recognized more than a quarter
of a century ago, and they say the
people don't mind it who are used
to it, on the contrary they rather
like it, in fact it is said they can
not live without it ; this may be
so, but I confess I do not alto
gether hanker arter it myself. I
recollect a somewhat similar aro
ma or bouquet during my travels
in Canada. I stopped at a log
house one evening for supper and
lodging, and thirteen wood-chop
pers had pulled off their boots and
lay sleeping with their feet to the
stove-the memory haunts me
still, even the sight of an old boot,
or a woolen sock is enough to dis
turb my peace of mind for a week;
but Chatham street is mild along
side of that, and as I contemplate
the gentle faces of the inhabitants,
I am constantly reminded of my
Swanderings in Palestine, and my
trip to the Holy Sepulcher. I
Swould almost be willing to take
Imy oath that that fellow with the
b ook nose and the wall eye is the
same chap who, nearly thirty years
ago, seized me by the waistband
of my breeches-dragged me into
that identical shop and compelled
Sme to buy, for two dollars and a
-quarter, a coat big enough for my
Im grarat-grandfather. But here
we are at Baxter street. Yes, .
heaven be thanked it is still the a
same. Mike Dooley's new tene- t
ment house in the middle of the '
block seems a little out of place, t
but the Five Points still remain ;
intact. Yes, sir, every one of i
them! It seems to be the curse r
of all large cities to have a living r
ulcer in the center of their hearts. I
London has its St. Giles and Saf- i
fron Hill; Paris has its Faubourg I
St. Antoine; Vienna, Berlin, St. t
Petersburg, all have these living r
cancers-within i-ifle shot of migh- a
ty buildings where Bibles are print- S
ed for the heathen-and near I
churches from which thousands of e
missionaries go out to the four d
quarters of the globe and the scat- i1
tered islands of the sea. I look t
up toward the Five Points' Mis- y
sion and I read on a tablet: "Erect- t
ed on the site of the old brewery, s
A. D.1853." For four and twenty a
years these saints have been wrest- t
ling with the devil, and it's aston- a
i4hing to see how healthy the old e
man looks; they don't appear to a
have worried him a bit. Hero are d
his camp followers all around us t
by huudreds; the very air is redo- c
lent of crime and sin ; it rises like l
a miasma from the filthy gutters a
in the streets. it oozes out of the s
damp walls; it floats up from the r
dark cellars, and down from the a
ricketty garrets-it is all around r
us-virtue finds it hard to main- i
tain a foothold here, for the soil is I
barren, sterile and foul. Look in a
those faces, soiled and scarred with F
crime and sin, and you almost f
doubt, notwithstanding the pro- t
mises of the Savior, if they were t
ever intended to be redeemed. t
There goes .a party of young r
thieves into Teddy Mannix's junk- f
shop; see how suspiciously they t
look around to see if the police are s
in sight, and now they are down f
with Teddy in the cellar, driving r
a hard bargain for their plunder. r
That girl with the red head is i
scarcely twelve years old, yet she v
is as deeply versed in crime as a g
vicious woman of thirty. Look i
at that group around the lamp- t
post, they are picking each others v
pockets just for practice ; here are k
your incipient Jack Sheppards, C
Dick Turpins and Claude Duvals. fi
E very one of these mugs is already a
in the rogues' gallery-all of them v
have served terms in the county v
jail or penitentiary, and they are a
looking forward to the day, with t
pardonable pride, when some first- r
class burglary, or highway robbe- c
ry, will enable them to graduate t
with the honors of Auburn or Sing p
Sing. On the corner of Baxter v
and Worth streets, is the celebra- c
ted Grand Duke theater, the boot- r
blacks, news-boys, and rag-pickers' e
temple of the drama. Pick your a
steps, and mind how you go, for s
it's away under the ground-no- a
where in New York-perhaps no L
where in the world will you see a
exactly such an assembly. That a
big fellow in the gray ulster, lean- t
ing against the post with his hat c
slouched down over his eyes, is ag
prominent Wall street broker; I
that little man in the old brown I
coat, who looks so suspiciously- r
about and keeps his hands so tight- I
ly on his pockets, is a country I
clergyman-he has disguised him- t
self for the purpose of seeing the a
GratiT Duke, but the gamins know r
him at a glance and they'll go f
through him before he gets out. a
Merchants, doctors, lawyers, boot- I
blacks, scavengers and thieves are a
all mixed up together. There is p
a fetid, sickly smell of the sewers, a
mingled with stale pipes and bad a
gin ; but the audience of the Grand s
Duke care nothing for these, they a
are used to it ; its aroma is sweet- t
er to them than the pure breath a
of the mountains or the fields. c
We won't stay for the perform- v
ance ; let us get up into the air- fi
the sky is clear and the stars are a
shining. Do you see that woman c
standing over there ; well, right v
on that spot is where Mike Hen- s
nessey murdered the policeman c
over twenty years ago. He got a
away to California, and was one s
of the gang hung atSonora for the t
murders at Rancherie. That lit- E
tle house toppling into the street k
is w here the Donovan family were c
killed; and down in this cellar on v
the right is where Portugese 'Joe s
had1 the fight with the three i:
Prench sailors, and he cut them
,11 to pieces with a Spanish mache
o, and hid them under the floor.
.here are lights shining out from
he upper windon s of the mission;
perhaps some one up there is pray
ng to the Throne of Grace for
aercy and forgiveness to the sin
ers with which this place abounds.
hope so; God knows they need
t more than the savages of the
eathen. Where religion fails,
rade and commerce are becoming
aighty missionaries--their inroads
re gradual but sure-and in a few
ears nothing will remain of the
ive Points and the Grand Duke
xcept the accounts that you can
elve from the letters of some
inerant correspondent. Tell them
o beware of pious young men up
our way. We have just sent
bree to State's Prison, and have a
mall invoice left. I regret to say,
nd acknowledge it with humilia
ion, that one was a printer and
nother a newspaper correspond
nt ; this latter fact may have had
omething to do with the moral
eclination of the last-named wor
by-but ih the printer's case the
ause is unfathomable, for we all
now that type-sticking is rather
moral business-advertisers and
abscribers generally forgetting to
ay their bills, thereby consider
tely removing all temptation to
eckless and extravagant expend
ure. The printer had an undue
king for other people's overcoats,
nd the rascally newspaper corres
ondent amused himself with ex
erimenting with the currency of
he United States. In view of
hese unfortunate facts, which I
eg you won't mention, where
eople have asked my profession
ar the last two weeks I have told
hem that I was an explorer. I
tood in need of some slight re
reshment, and had just been ex
loring my overcoat pocket for a
ickel that went down in the lin
ag last summer when I was on a
isit to the Centennial, but I re
ret to say, like the North Pole,
was not to be found. I am aware
hat the ladies expeet me every
reek to give them some gentle
ints as to the prevailing fashions
f the great metropolis, not to be
aund in Harper's 5Bazar or .Mad
me Demorest's Weekly. I1 do this
rith greater pleasure, because
rriting fashion articles is my
trong suit. I understand the
erms and idioms of fashionable
omenclature, and this fact, will
onsequently give a grace and ease
o my fashion articles which the
roductions of mere provincial
rriters would naturally lack. One
f the most important as well as
iost disgraceful innovations on
stablished custom is the entire
bolition of the magnificent two
tory bustle w hich delighted and
mazed us of yore. Would you
elieve it, women may now be
een on Broadway at noon-day in
Imost their natural shape, a gen
ie ump, about as big as a piece
f chalk, being all that distin
uishes .the. difference bet veen a
~ifth Avenue belle and her more
umble sister of the Bowery. I
egret to say that trailing skirts
ave almost entirely disappeared.
regret this more particularly in
he present condition of the
treets. Last year, when the
2nd was ancle deep, I could have
>lowed in the wake of a fashion
ble lady from the Battery to
ladison Square, and never have
oiled my boots ; but with the
resent vile, attenuated skirts,
las, I can do so no longer. The
kirts are worn with a .Diana
weep and an inverted coal-scuttle
eompaniment ; point applique
rim mings on the back of the ears
nd reaching to the eyebrows 'are
onsidered graceful. Russes are
rorn on the elbows, feathers arid
owers on the back of the head,
nd the left hand pocket; Canton
rape, trimmed down the middle
rith six-penny calico is also con
idered very becoming, with bows
f Cardinal-red, Punkin-yellow,
nd Sham >ck-green down the
ides. This style of trimming is
ighly-esteemed in the Fourth,
ixth and Twelfth wards. I am
appy to state that the better
lass of fashionable young ladies
rho make beds, wash dishes, and
ew bags utterly reject the vile
alia-rnhher shoe which destrov8
the beauty of the foot; they very
properly considering that the pos
sibilities of galloping consumption
are not to be weighed against the
depravity of having a big hoof.
I broke right off here, and have
been waiting for the last fifteen
minutes to hear of some startling
murder, robbery or suicide to
wind up with, but nothing comes
except what you already have in
your exchanges, and so I must
close, as the mail is going.
Truly yours, BBOADBRIM.
PROF. TYNDALL'S WARN.
ING.
In concluding an address to the
students of University College
(London) Prof. Tyndall, who is
unquestionably one of the most
indefatigable brain workers of our
century, said, "take care of your
health. Imagine Hercules as oars
man in a rotten boat ; what can
he do there but by the very force
of his stroke expedite the ruin of
his craft. Take care of the tim
bers of your boat." The distin
guished scientist's advice is equal
ly valuable to all workers. We are
apt to devote all our energies to
wielding the oars, our strokes fall
firm and fast, but few of us exam
ine or even think of the condition
of our boats until the broken or
rotten timbers suddenly give way
and we find ourselves the victims
of a calamity which could have
been easily avoided by a little
forethought. What began with a
slight fracture, or perhaps even a
careless exposure to disorganizing
influences, ends in the complete
wreck of the life-boat. The dis
ease which began with a slight
headache or an undue exposure to
cold terminates in death, unless its
progress be checked, and the dis
ease remedied. The first symp
toms, the heralds of disease, give
no indication of the strength of
the on-coming foe, and the victim
trusts that his old ally, Nature,
will exterminate the invader. But
Disease is an old general and ac
complishes his most important
movements in the night-time, and
some bright morning finds him in
possession of one of the strongest
fortifications; and when he has
once gained astronghold in the sys
tem Nature ignominiously turns
traitor and secretly delivers up
the whole physical armory to the
invader. Like the wily politician,
1Nature is always on the strongest
side, and the only way to insure
her support is to keep your vital
powers in the ascendant. Ktep
your strongest forts-the stomach
and liver-well guarded. Do not
let the foe enter the arterial high
ways, for he will steal or destroy
your richest merchandise and im
poverish your kingdom. To re
pulse the attacks of the foe you
can find no better ammunition
than Dr. Pierce's Family Medi
cines. (Full directions accompany
each package.) His Pleasant Pur
gative Pcllets are especially effect
ive in defending the stomach and
liver. His Golden Mcd ical Dis
covery for purifying the blood and
arresting coughs and colds. II
you wish to become familiar with
the most approved system of de
fense in this warfare, and the his
tory of the foe's method of inva
sion, together with complete in
structions for keeping your forces
in martial order in time of peace
you can find no better manual ol
these tactics than "The People's
Common Sense Medical Adviser,'
by R- V. Pierce,NM. D.-, of the
World's Dispensary, Buffalo, N.Y.
Sent to any address on receipt ol
$1.50. It contains over nine hun
dred pages, illustrated by two
hundred and eighty-two engrav
ings and colored plates, and ele
gantly bound in cloth and gilt.
A man being asked, as he lay
sunning himself on the grass,
what was the heighth of his am
bition, replied, "To marry a rich
widow with a bad cough."
A Chinaman spoke all the En
glish he knew in Indianapolis the
other day, and was fined $7 for
profanity.
A domestic broil usually makes
a thnronghly nsatisfactory meal.
ADVERTISINC RATES.
Advertisements inserted at the rate of $1.00)
per square--one inch-for first insertion, and
75c. for each subsequent insertion. Dou*
column advertisements tenper cent on above
Notices of meetings, obitnaries and tnibutc Y
of respect, same rates per square as ordinay
advertisements.
Special notices In local column 15 cents
per line,
Advertisemnents no~t marked with the num
ber of insert:nns will fie kept in till forbid
and charged accordingly.
Special contracts maide with large adver
tisers, with liberal dedaet in~ns on above rates
b a P~RrwiJe
Done with Neatness and Dispatehb
Termj Cah.
A JUVENILE FIGHT.-A-lad, nar
rating a fight which he had. been
engaged in, said : "N-4ea you
how it was. You see,~ and
me went down to the wharf to
fish ; and I felt into may ppcket
and found my knife, ad.. it was
gone-and I said, "Bl;Yba stole
my knife," and he s I" iwas an
other; and I said, "Go there your
self;" and he said it was no such
thing; anc' Isaid youi are a liar,
and could whip him if I was big
ger'n him; and he said he'd rock
me to sleep, mother ; ,and I said
he was a bigger one; afid he said
I never had the measles ; and I
said for him to fork over that
knife, or I'd fix him for a tomb
stone at Cypress Hills ; and he
said my grandmother was no gen
tleman ; and I said he dersn't take
it up; but he did you bet; you
never-well, you never did; then
I got up again ; and he tried to,
but he didn't; and I grabbed him
and throwed -him down on *the
top of me like several bricks, and