Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c. - Vol. III.WEDNESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 1, 187. No. 31. LINEHERALD IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING, At Newberry, S. C.{ BY THOB. F. GRRNHKR, Editor and Proprietor. Term, se0 per ainnum Invariably in Advance. SThe paper is stopped at the expiration of time for which it is paid. ~7The ~4mark denotes expiration of sub 12cription. Swveet is chi!d-hood-Chil ih0od'S0o "_~ Kiss and part. Sweet is youth; but youth's a rover So's my heart. Sweet is rest; but by all showing Toil is n igh. We must go. Alas! thc going S ay "g ood -by e."-T H K I S Red lips said, "Don't," gray eyes said, "Do," Her silent wish found passage through; A voice in my heart's chamber heard Contradicts her spoken word, While from her eyes the clear starshine Came flowing, flowing into mine. Hands clasped we stood. I felt no need Give either voice obedient heed, Suspended in a trance of bliss The soul of that unproven kiss Forth from her gray eyes divine Came flowing, flowing into mine. WHAT IS LIFE? A little crib beside the bed,4 A little face above the spread, A little frock behind the door, . 1 ittle shoe upon the floor. A litl ladl of drk b-ron hiAir, there? No ? Well, it's a queer ,~ '~ ~. ~vv fln~ I full of speckled trout, and the hotel is just far enough from the sea to render the climate delightful. The San Marino House was filled to its utmost capacity that season. It was a curious kind of a crowd ga ,hered there. City sportsmen, with A guns, fishing tackle, etc.; and super.iuated old women, for the benefit cf tAe sea breeze: young boys fourteen oa: fifteen years old, making their firs' ?rip from home ilone ; two or three grzs widows ;. z somewhat fast clergyman-rode iown from the city on his veloci pede-and three or four young 1: lies and a dozen frisky school-gJs. Dn the whole, it was as jolly a crew is ever gathered together. With iorseback-riding, boating, fishing ind hunting, the time passed rapid Ly enough. I said there were three r four young ladies, but, so far as [ was concerned, there was only >ne-Miss Tootie Tusby. Excuse re, Pills, but I cannot speak that aame even now without. emotion,' md Bangs drew forth hs handker 3hief and wiped his eyes vigorously. 'I cannot describe all of her ,harms; but, Pills, if there ever was an angel in this world, she was >ne. I devoted myself to her from bhe very first. When Miss Tootie rode, I rode; if she walked, I walk ?d; when she went fishing, Bangs went fishing ; if she sailed on the lake, Bangs was there also. Pills, [ loved that girl ! And when I think of what separated us, you'll excuse me, but-' There the handkerchief again %ame into requisition, and Bangs' voice left him completely. 'Did you propose?' I asked. 'No ! Pills-no ! Ah ! if I only bad-if I only had !' 'What prevented ?' 'Well, nothing but my own folly. E was faint-hearted when it came to that. I had it in my mouth a dozen times, but my tongue failed me. There was another fellow there, too, that made me terribly jealous. She didn't show him any particular fa vors, but that he was a great ad mirer of her any one could see; and really I wasn't certain in my mind which she preferred. She might in bime, perhaps, have shown some preference, and my doubts been ispelled, had it not been for the affair that happened which I am about to relate, and which blighted Il my future life.' 'Bad as that?' I said. 'Pills, you never was in love y'ou never lost the one heaven as signed for you-you know nothing it all about it.' 'That is so. Go on.' 'There was a party at the San !Iarino House one evenig--a soiree ansante, or something like that, they called it. They sent up to the aity for music, and went in for a gay ime. I was counted out, some what-you know I don't dance. The other fellow did. More than that, he danced with Tootie nearly ill the time. Pills, you don't know mny thing at all about it. You ever had the girl you love dancing with your rival all the evening right before your eyes, while you sat in s corner like a knot on a log; see hima in the quadrilles, when all the rest of the couples simply take each other's hands and promenade-see that fellow just put his arm around that girl, and then go waltzing or polkaing all about the room, every ime right in front of you, and that ussed fellow treading on your orns every chance he can get-you lon't know anything about it.' I admitted my ignorance. 'Well, I couldn't stand it; it was too much.. I rushed out and start ed off toviards the sea. 1 don't know as I had any intention of sui eide, but I was in a desperate mood. The path to the beach led along by the side of a lagoon, and by the time I had gone a hundred yards I changed my mind, and thought I would take a swim in the lake. That is about all the accom plishment I possessed, and one can't show that off before the la dies, you know-not in the way you can dancing. I disrobed under the branches of a huge alder, or sycamore, or some such tree, and struck out for the other side of the lake. The moon was shining bright ly, and the water was warm and delightful. Having crossed to the opposite side, I swam along in the dark shadow of the alders until I came to the sea beach. Then I no ticed that the moon was getting low. I must return soon, before I was missed at the party. After a short rest, I plunged in again, and struck out for the place where I left my clothes. I could find it easily ~by the large tree growing there. In fifteen minutes I was there ; and, Pidls, I tell you, the situation of things about that time wvas precanous. 'How's that?' 'I couldn't find my clothes ! Gone, sir-every article, except my plug hat ! 1 rushed round among the brush and nettles and poison oak like a setter after a quail. Je rusalem ! Whew! I tell you I got a dose that lasted me for a month. Not a rag of clothing could I find. At length I happened to loo up the path toward the hotel. What do you suppose I saw ? A cursed greyhound that belonged to my rival with my white vest, toss ing it upon his nose, and dragging it about among the dust, and tar weed as though it had been an old dish-cloth. The situation flashed upon me in an instant. The dog had stolen my clothes in sport, and there I was-out there in the night air-with no possible show of get tir into the house without discov ery. Pleasant, wasn't it ?' 'Decidedly I' 'You don't know anything at all about it, sir ! That was nothing to what followed. Just as I was wondering how in the dickens I was to get out of the scrape, I looked up toward the hotel again, aid saw something that fairly made my blood freeze in my veins. I saw three persons coming down the path, and I at once recognized them as my rival, Wilkins, Miss Tootie, and another young lady. They met the dog when about half way between the lake and the ho tel. I saw, by their actions, the discovery of the vest had alarmed them. They all came hurriedly down the path toward the very spot where I stcod. Pills, that was a situation I hope never to be placed in again.' 'Undoubtedly ? Did you take to the wvater'?' 'I dared not do it; but it would have been better if I had. You see, I had been in the water too long already. I was in an awful shiver-goose flesh all over me. There wasn't time to deliberate long. My first thought was to spring up into the tree, and I did so. They came rushing down to the water's edge, under the tree, just Obeneath me. I could hear their voices quite plainly. They were discussing the probability of my being drowned. I was roosted up there on a limb, shivering like sin, nothing on but my plug hat, you know. 'By-and-by they began to talk about going back to the hotel and giving the alarm. I could hear one of the young ladies weeping ; but hang me if I could tell which one. I was anxious to know, of course, For if it was Miss Tootie, the fact would be significant, at least. In my anxiety to discover which one was crying, I crept noiselessly out a few feet further on the limb. I didn't stop to consider that the sycamore is a very brittle tree. Stretching my neck to the utmost, I peered down through the leaves, and-crash !' 'The limb broke ?' 'Yes, sir ; and I found myself stretched at full length on the sand, right in the midst of them ! 0, Jupiter ! Pills, you don't know anything at all about it. I prayed for an earthquake to open the earth and swallow me up ; but it didn't.' 'Well, the denouement ?' 'The girls' looked at me a mo ment in astonishment, and there was a tremendous fluttering of white dresses as they ran back toward the hotel. Wilkins burst into a roar of laughter, and kept it up until I sprang up and collared him, and. told him if he valued his life to go to the hotel and bring me my valise, which contained a~n extra suit of clothing. I made him promise to keep mum, too, until I was clear of the place. He was glad to do it for if I left he would have the whole field to himself. He brought the valise as he prom. ised, and I walked eight miles that night to the next hotel. The fol lowing day I took the stage for the city. Miss Tusby married Wilkins, and 1 have never seen, her since that fatal night.' 'And, therefore, you hate dogs?t' 'And who wouldn't ? If it hadn't been for that dog, I never should have met with that accident. I might have won Miss Tusby. I might now have been the father of a large family, instead of a misan thropic bachelor. I might-' Here Bangs was interrupted by some one rapping at his office-door. He unlocked it, and ushered in a disconsolate looking fellow, who, on seeing him, intimated a wish to consult him privately. Bangs' pris vate office is separated from his reception room by sliding-doors. Bangs invited his visitor in there, and closed the doors, as he thought. But it happened that the track on which they run was out of order, and the doors slid open about three inches. Unavoidably I listened to the whole conversation. 'You are Lawyer Bangs, are you not ?' said the stranger, 'Yes, sir. Can I do anything for you ?' 'I think so. I am unhappy in my marriage relations.' 'Ah ! that's bad. Thinking of a divorce ?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Ah ! perhaps it is best, where two cannot live together' happily. Personally, I have always thought the marriage state the only happy one for a man in the world.' 'You are not married ?' 'Oh ! no, sir-no, sir ; might have been, possibly, had it not been for an unfortunato accident I 'You ought to think yourself lucky, sir,' interrupted the stran ger. 'Perhaps so. But let us proceed to this business of yours. On what grounds do you intend to proceed?' 'Incompatibility of temper, first.' 'Can't agree, eh ?' 'No, sir ; could as soon agree with the devil.' 'Anything else?' 'Yes, sir, deception. She claimed to be a maiden lady.' 'Wasn't she?' 'She had been married three times, and was the mother of three children.' 'That was bad.' 'Her reputation, I know now, is not good. She was nothing but an adventuress.' 'Let us get this thing in shape. I will take down your statements.' And immediately I could hear Bangs scratching away with his pen. 'Your name?' 'John Badger.' 'Wife's name?' 'Sarah Badger.' 'Name when you married her?' 'Sarah Tinkham. Tinkham com mitted suicide six months after their marriage.' 'Name before she married Tink ham?' 'Plunkett. Plunkett ran away and left her, and she got a divorce from him. Ah, ha ! She's one of 'em, ain't she ? What was her name before she married Plunkett?' 'Wilkins. He lived with her about a year, when he got a di vorce. 'Wilkins !-name sounds famil iar. Do you know her name before she married him ?' 'Yes, sir. It was Tusby-Susan Tusby-or Tootie Tusby, as she was called.' I heard a dull thud on the floor, a cry of dismay from the stranger, and, throwing open the door, I rushed in. Bangs had fainted. tifit.s. A ROMANTIC RELIC. I once had pointed out to me, at Peale's old museum, in Philadel phia, a bow and quiver which had a history. WVhat became of the articles when the curiosities of that museum were divided I do not know. An African prince, captured in battle, begged so hard that his bow and quiver, which had been his father's, might be left in his possession, that the request was granted. Captivity, of course, meant slavery. For a beggarly sum he was sold by his black captor to a slaver, and in time found his way to South Carolina, where he became the property of Colonel Motte. He brought his bow and quiver with him, an~d in his new home, with arrows fashioned by his own hand, he brought down many a choice bit of game for his master's table. The slave was strong and remarkably intelligent, as well as willing, and as the master was kind and hu mane, the life of the dusky prince was far from unhappy or irksome. The wi-ole family prized him, and he, in turn, became strongly at tached to them. At length the slave died, and .af ter he had gone, his bow and qui ver, the story of which he had of ten told in eloqucnt.language, were preserved as relics of the faithful servitor in the colonel's family, for the family could not but gratefully remember the services, the forti tude and the unswerving fidelity of the strong and gentle lambo. Duing the Revolution, Colonel Motte fell while fighting for liberty. In the campaign of 1781 his widow was driven from her house on the Congaree River, and the place was turned into a British garrison and strongly fortified. In time this garrison was beseiged by a detach ment of the American army, but its :efenses were so strong that the force was not sufficient to take it by assault. The American com mander, who was a South Caroli nian, and an old time friend of the Motte family, went to the widow, now living in a poor hut within sight of her stately mansion, and told her that the preservation of her house and property was the nly impediment to the capture of the British. 'What would you do ?' asked Mrs. Motte. 'Set the mansion on fire and burn them out,' was the officer's reply. 'And how will you set it on fire?' 'I have not yet thought, madam. had regard for your' wishes in the matter, and wished first to consult The widow reflected awhile and then asked: 'When would be a favorable mo ment for applying the torch?' 'This very night, after the senti nels are posted, and the rest of the garrison asleep.' 'Make your arrangements,' said the pmtriotic woman, 'and at your signal I will set the house on fire for you.' 'You ?' 'Yes. I will do it.' The officer saw that she was in earnest, and he went - his way to make preparations. And then the widow went at her work. One of the children had brought away with them from the house Iambo's bow and-quiver of arrows. The arrows were long and finely made, with steel heads and delicately feathered shafts. With a lot of loose tow she made torches of the arrows, the prepared heads of which she set in a pail fill ed with spirits of turpentine. At eleven o'clock at night the American commander came and told Mrs. Motte that all was ready. Taking the pail, with the soaking arrows, in her hand, she called up on her stout servant to attend her. He was a powerful fellow, and used to the bow. Arrived at a favorable locality, she opened her lantern, and lighted a pitchwood splinter. Then the servant fixed an arrow torch to the bow string, and the widow set the inflammable tow on fire. In another instant the fiery messenger was sped on its way, and it alighted upon the roof of the mansion, far from the immediate reach of the garrison. By the time five of these ignited torches had been surely landed up on different parts of the roof, the mansion was in flames beyond the power of the aroused inmates to subdue them. And yet the brave, noble woman did not lose much of her property. The British, fearing a horrible death by fire, laid down their arms and surrendered, and joined with their captors in extinguishing the flames, which was accomplished be fore the fire had extended below the garrets. EDITORS SHOULD Go ABOUT.-Re ferring to the excursion of the Mas sachusetts editors, the New York Sun: says: "The profession of journalism is in many respects a very trying one. A newspaper requires as constant care as an infant at the hands of its mother. This devotion the true editor gladly gives, for his work is his delight, and there is an exhila ration -in it peculiar to no other profession ; that is, if his newspa per is successful, and he sees the effect of his labors on the public mind. Otherwise it is pretty hard sledding, as, we regret to say, many of our contemporaries are finding out in these dull times. "It is not surprising that the provincial editors are in the habit of clubbing together to gain recrea tion after their arduous labors. They wish to rest their tired brains, to get the stimulus of travel, and to see what there is to see in the way of the beauties of nature, and the chievments of men. This is a good thing. People rust if they stay at bome too much. If they do not go abroad to observe the world, they are apt to overrate the importance of the narrow concerns which occu py their minds in the towns and villages where they have their resi dence. Editors especially should broaden and enlighten their intel lects by contact with the great world ; though the wise and com prehensive editor does not occupy himself with the cliques, parties, or individuals of society, but, like a mariner at the mast top, he surveys the whole expanse, so that he may deal with all interests according to their relative importance. From his elevation he sees currents of popular opinion, tendencies of thought, and ultimate conclusions which are hidden from those who are on the level." "William," said one Quaker to nother, "thee knows I never call nybody names, .but, William, if the governor of the State should ome to me and say : 'Joshua, I want thee to find the biggest liar a the State of New York,' I would ome to thee and say: 'William, the governor wants to see thee par An Alabama man refused to ac ept certain bank bills tendered him, because the mules engraved upon them were not properly gear ed. He said that the engraver had put the breeching upon the lead mules instead of those at the whels, which made a very grave state of affairs in going down grade. A little four year-old girl visiting a neighbor was asked if she would have some bread and butter. "No," she replied, rather sorrowfully, "my ma said I musn't ask you for bread and butter ;" then suddenly :rightening up she said: "Have you got any cookies ?" "Jane, what letter in the alpha bet do you like best ?" "Well, I don't like to say, Mr. Snobbs." "Pooh, nonsense ! tell i-ight out, Jane-which do you like best ?" W~\ell," dropping her eyes, "L like u' the best." Friendship is infinitely better han 1rindness - A NEGLECTED SENTRY. The French papers state that a soldier of the first empire, named Jacques Roussel, has just died at Montpelier (Herault), at the age of ninety-two. He was the hero of a singular adventure, of which a number of journals spoke at the time, and which he himself used often to relate. In 1807, the French took possession of Rugen, a small island in the Baltic, sepa rated from the coast of Pomerani by a narrow channel. It was occupied by a detachment of Davoust's corps, when the order came to evacuate it immediately. The embarkation was so sudden that a sentry was forgotten-no other than Roussel. Ignorant of what had passed, he continued to pace up and down, and no relief having come after three hours, he lost patience and returned to the guard-bouse, which, of course, he found deserted. Making inquiries, he learned with despair the de parture of the detachment. "Mon Dieu !" he exclaimed, "I shall be reported as a deserter. I am lost, dishonored !" and he burst into tears. His grief aroused the com passion of an honest artisan of the place, who consoled him and gave him shelter, and, after a certain period, gave his only daughter to him as a wife. They were all liv ing happily together when, at the end of five years, a vessel was sighted, and the people flocked to hail it, the uniform of the French army being recognized. "Pour le coup, they have come for me," ex claimed the frightened sentinel, but a sudden thought restored his courage. He ran to his dwelling, quickly donned the uniform, which he had carefully preserved, seized his musket, and, returning to the shore, mounted sentry at the mo ment when the French landed. "Qui vive ?" he called out in a stentorian voice. "Qui vive vous meme ?" replied those from the ves. sel. "A sentinel." "How long have you been on duty?" "For five years !" Davoust laughed hearti ly at the adventure and ordered that a release in due torm should be giren to this deserter in spite of himself. Roussel lived happily with his family for some years ; but having had the misfortune to lose his wife and only child, he soon felt a strong wish to return to his country. He arrived at Montpelier toward 1829, and re sided tbere ever since upon his savings and a small pension grant ed him by the second empire. BROKEN PRoMIsEs.-Reader, nev er break your promises! And to this end, never make a promise that you are not sure you can ful fil. You may think it a trifling matter to make an appointment with a friend or agree to do a cer tain thing, and then fail to "come to time ;" but it is assuredly not a small affair. If you get into the habit of neglecting to make good your promises, how long, do you think, will your friends and ac quaintances retain- confidence in you ? The nearest and dearest of heml will in time learn to doubt ou, and will have but little faith in your words. And there is a way of half meeting one's obliga tions, which might be called 'bending' a promise, which is also a very bad practice and should be carefully avoided. For instance, you agree to meet a person at a certain time ; but, instead of being punctual, you put in an appearance several minutes, perhaps an hour, after time, or you promise to do something for a friend, and only partially per form the duty. You may not ex actly have broken your promise, but you have certainly bent it, which is almost, if not quite, as bad. Keep your promises to the letter ; be prompt and exact and it will save you much trouble and care through life, and win for you the respect and trust of your friends. A FABLE.-A prowling wolf es pied a horse grazing in the field. "AhI !" cried he, "a prize! but how to manage ? A horse is not easy prey, like a sheep. I must try some trick." So he drew near and introduced himself as a doctor. "You must be ill," he told the orse, "or they would not have turned you out to graze. Tell me your disease ; I can cure it, what ever it is." "I have a swelling on the under side of my foot," replied the horse. "Let me examine," said the wolf; making ready for a snap. Suddenly the wary horse let ly his heels and threw the wolf high in the air. "Ah," he howled, as he limped away, "this serves me right ! I should not have quitted my trade. ature meant me for a butcher, not for a doctor." Very unsatisfactory sort of bread-The roll of fame. Fear is the universal offspring f uncertaintv. THOUGHTS FOR SaTURDAY NIGHT. As long as love prevails in a house space of the breadth of a sword is satisfactory. As soon as it disappears sixty band breadths are not sufficient. Love teaches cunning even to innocence, and when he gets pos session his first work is to dig deep within a heart and there lie hid, and like a miser in the dark, to feast alone. Life, whether in tbis world or any other, is the sun of our en tertainment, our existence, our character. The conditions are secondary. In what other world shall we be more surely than we are here? There is not perhaps, a more whimsical figure in nature than a man of real modesty who assumes an air of impudence who, while his heart beats with anxiety, studies case and affects good humor. What is this life but the circu lation of little mean actions ? We lie down and risc; again, dress and redress, feed and gron hungry, work or play, and are weary ; and then we lie down again and the circle returns. Of all the difficulties in a State, the temper of a true government, most falsifies and perpetuates it ; too sudden alterations distemper it. Had Nero tuned his govern ment as he did his harp, his har mony had been more honorable, and his reign more prosperous. Men have been somewhat cyn ically defined as a contrivance of wise men to keep fools at a dis tance. Fashion is shrewd to de tect those who do not belong to her train, and seldom wastes her attentions. Society is very swift in its instincts, and if you do not belong to it, resists and sneers at you, or quietly drops you. Midas longed for gold and in sulted the Olympians. He got gold so that whatever he touched became gold, and he with his long ars was little the better for it. Midas had insulted Apollo and the gods; the gods gave him his wish and a pair of long ears, which also were a good appendage to it. What truth in those old fables! A SLIGHT MISTAKE.-The pres ent Archbishop of Dublin, the gifted author of the work, so wide ly known, on the 'Study of Words,' is not in very robust health, and has been for many years appre hensive of paralysis. At a recent dinner in Dublin , given by the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, his Grace sat on the right of his host. ess, the Duchess of Abercorn. In the midst of the dinner the com pany was startled to see the arch bishop rise from his seat, and still more startled to hear him exclaim, in a dismal and sepulchral tone, "It has come, it has come !" "What has come, your Grace ?" eagerly cried half a dozen voicss from different parts of the table. "What I have been expecting for twenty years," solemnly an swered the archbishop-"a stroke f paralysis. I have been pinch ing myself -for the last twenty minutes, and find myself entirely without sensation." "Pardon me, my dear archbish p," said the duchess, looking up to him with a somewhat quizzical smile-"pardon me for contradict ng you, but it is I you have been pi nching."-Harper's Magazine. DON'T LosE A MINUTE.-Koep busy. The man who has nothing o do is the most miserable of be nge. If you have no regular work, do chores, as farmers do when it rains too hard to work in the field. In oce'upation we for et our troubles, and get respite from sorrow. The man whose ind and hands are busy finds no ime to weep and wail. If work s slack, spend the time in read ng. No man ever knew too uch. The hardest students in ( he world are the old men who now ,the most. If you lack ooks, there are free and very ceap libraries, at least in* cities, t your command. The man who 1 oes not acquire some item of use fl information between daybreak and bedtime must mournfully say, ith the Roman Emperor: "I ave lost a day." The Burlington llawk-Bye tells f a solhtary Ohio mangwbo de anded, in a husky voice, at the fice window in the railway sta- ~ ion : "Tick't." "Whbere to ?" ask d the unruffled monopolist behind te window. "'Nywhere ! Any were! Clean through ! Clean crost ! To Burglarry or Proo by; or the Danube, or Diffendor pr, or any place. Anywhere out f an ungrateful country, that oldly turns its back upon its de erving children. Any where out t f America!" And he bowed his t ead and wept. He was the only an in Ohio that d'dn't get an office. The book-keeper who fell from , column of figures is still in a; ~riticnI state . t ADVERTISINTG RATES. Advertisements inserted at the rata of $1.00 per square (one inch) for first insertion, and 75 cents for each subsequent insertion. Double column advertisements ten per cent. on above. Notices of meetings, obitnaries and tributes of respect, same rates per square as ordint:ty advertisements. Special Notices in Local column 15 cents per line. Advertisemnen = not marked with the num ber of insertions will be kept in till forbid, and charged accordingly. Special contracts imode with large adve' tiiers, with liberal deLluc:ians on above rate. JOR 'RIo"NIOMG DONE WITH NEATNESS AND DISPATCII. TERMS CASH. A FINE DISTINCTION.-A young man whose attire was clean and neat, and whose appeararece was rather prepossessing, stood before the bar of the Jefferson Market Police Court yesterday morning. By his side stood a young man about the same age, with a coal black face and woolly hair, and who was dressed in all the gorgeousness of a "swell." "What's your name, white man?" asked the court. "MeFinnigan, sir." "And yours, my man and bro ther ?" c"Gawge Washn'ton Jones, sah." "'What was the matter, George Washington? "Sah, I'll tell yo' de truf, sab. I was a goin' up d.e street, sab, las' night, when I met this man an' I kine of jn~stled agin 'im, sah, an' he turn' right roun', sah, an' fetch me a clip on de nose, sah, den I calls an' offsa' an' had dat man arrested, an' dats all de troof, foa' God, sah." ""How was it, McFinnigan ?" "Shure, yer Oner, an' it was all the nayger's fault, sor. I was a coini' down the -av'nie quiet as a lam', sor, sayin' nothin' to nobody, whin that sbpalpeen came forninst me, sor, wid his elbie, an' I up an' bit 'im upon the spur av the mo "n t. esu vtem mn" ustom. There is no error so crooked but b has in it some lines of truth. '. ~.