Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c. V11. XV0 WEDNESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 20, 18-9. No. 34 THE HERALD IS PUBLISHED EVErY WEDNESDAY M011NING, At Newberry, S. C. BY THOS. P. GRANEKER, Editor and I-oprietor. Terms, $.00 per dinnuag invariably in Advance. r 1we paper is stopped at the expirntion of time for which it is paid. - The M mark denotes expiration of sub criptiou. Clothing. HEAD -QUARTERS FoR CLOTHING. Our stock of Men's, Youths' a-d Boy's CLOTUING - AND FURNISHING GOODS, For SPRING and SUMMER, is now coin plete, and is second to no establishment of the kind in the State. No pains is being spared to keep it first class in every respect. In addition to our Ready-Made Clothing, &c., we are prepared to get up suits, or any garment, to order, guaranteeing satisfaction in every particular, furnishing several hun dred samples of different fabrics from which to select. We respectfully solicit a trial of our skill in this direction, feeling sure that if those of our people who are wont to send abroad for their Clothing will give us an opportunity we will secure to them equal satisfaction and save them money. We call attention to our Furnishing Goods Department, especially to our Laun dried and Unlaundried Sh:rts, of the latter we claim to sell the best $1.00 Shirt to be found in any market. Also to our stock of Men's and Boy's Hats, embracing Stiff and Soft Cassimeres, Mackinaws, Leghorns, &c., all of the latest styles. We invite examina tion of all; 1f you are not pleased do not buy. .Respectfully, W1RIGilT & J, W. CJOPPOK, No. 4 Mollohon Row, NEWBERRY, S. C. Apr. 23, 1 7-1y JVatches, Clocks, Jewelry. WATHIES AND 1EW~ELRY At the New Store on Hotel Lot. I have now on hand a large and elegant assortment of WATCHES, CLOCKS, JEWELRY, Silver and Plated Ware, VIOLIN AND GUITAR~ STRINGS, SPECTACLES AND SPECTACLE CASES, WEDDING AND BIRTHDAY PRESENTS. IN ENDLESS TARIETY. All orders by mail promptly attended taf Watchmaking and Repairing Done Cheaply and witha Dispatch. Call and examine my stock and prices. EDUARD SCHOLTZ. Nov. 21, 47-tf. MCHANT TILlORING, COLUMBIA, S. C. The undersigned has the best appointed exclusive TAILORING ESTABLISIIMENT IN THE STATE. FRENCH AND ENGLISH CLOTHS AND CASSIMRE MILIARY TRIMINtGS, TALORS' TIIINiNS. None but First Class Work men Employed. W. C SWAFFIELD), AC E NT. A pr. 165, 16-6mn., BURAL CANE& KIJt I.0HAPMAN & SOIN Respectfully announce that they have or hand the largest and best variety of BU RIAL CJASES ever brought to Newberry consiting of Fisk's Metalic Cases, Emba1mimg Cases, .1fiscellan eons. PiLL ~:~L a..w INTRODUCED, 1865. A TORPID LVER is the fruitful source of nany diseases, promi rent IMinn which are DYSPEPSIA, SICK-HEADACHE, COSTIVENESS, DYSENTERY, BitIUS FEVER, AGUE AND FEVER, JAUNDICE, P'LES, RHEUMATISM, KIDNEY COM PLAINT, COLIC, ETC. SYMS OF A TORPID LIVER. Loss of Appetite ond Nausea, the bowels as ostive, b,.t sometimes alternste -with looseness, Pain in the Head, accompamed 'with~a Du1-ensinh eback part,Pain in~tlie riht~side ndunderthe shoulder blade~ fulniess~afer eating, with a disin clination to exertion of body~ormind, Irri tabilityof temper,_Low spirits, Loss of memory, with afeeling of having neglected some duty, General weariness; Dizzines, Fluitering at the Heart, Dots before the eyes, Yellow Skn, Head~ache generally over the right eye,Restlessnes at night with fitful dreams, highly colored Urine. IF THESE WARWIT.1GS ARE UNEEDEDs SERIOUS DISEASES WILL SOON BE DEVELOPED. TUTT'S PILLS are especially adapted to such cases, a single dose effects such a change of feeling as to astonish the sufferer. TUTT'S PILLS are compounded from subrtances that are free from any properties that can ijure the most delicate organization. They Search, Cleanse, Purify, and Invigorate the entire System. By relieving the en gorged Liver, they cleanse the blood from poisonous hamors, and thus impart health and vitality to the body, causing the bowels to act naturally, without which no one can foel well. A Noted Divine says: Dr. TUMT -Doar Sir: For teon years I have been a martyr to Dy3pepsia. Constipation and Piles. Last Spigyour Pills were recommende(i to me; I used hem (bat with little ftith). I am now a wll man, have good appotite. digestion perfect. regular stools, Cs o -n! [have gained forty ounds solid flesh. E V a n wPPSo? Louisville, Ky. TUTT'S PILLS, Their first effect is to Increase the Appetite, and cause the body to Take on Flesh, thus the system is nourished, and by their Tonic Ac tion on the Digestive Organs, Regular Stools are produced. DR, . F, HAYWOOD, OF NEW YORK, SAYS: Sew Aise"2a xist. that cannot be relioved by r this ppoeno romd as evrbee invented thai SOLD EVERYWH ERE, PRICE 25 CENTS. Offlee 35 Murray .Street, New York. EF Dr. TUTTT'S MANUAL of Valuable Inf or mation and Useful Receipts " will be maiiedfree on application TUTT'S HAIR DYE, BLs CK byasinl appiiai1o t YL D It- tf as Hrml~sa spring vater Sod bv DSits or ser.a by express ion receipt ot SI. Office, 35 Murray St., New York. OLD AND RELIABLE, DR. SANFORD'S LIVER INVIGORATOR is a Standard Family Remedy for,~ diseases of the Liver, Stomach and Bowels. -It is Purely J P Vegetable.- It never ' Debilitates-It is Cathartic and . TRY I IT,,9? ~~0 0 \RJ he 86 85'Liver ~. ~ .9has been 1:sd A 'and by the pule ~'.'for more than 5 ye: rs, with unprecCI ate-l r s SE'ND FO R C R U LA " Apr.1i', 10-17. NEW1 YORK_SIIOPPING. Lamar Purchasi[ Ag Established, Reliable. Everything bought with taste and dis cretion~ X. Y. Correspondent of HERALD connected with this Agency. Senid for cir ,cular with prices. Best city references. Address MRS. ELLEN LAMAR, e8p.9 S77 Broadway, New York. A r ,15-tf. R'ISTON DINNER II0IJ8E, IPassengers on both the up and down trains have the usual time for DINNER at and the S. fth . & C. R. R. , Fare well prepared, and tihe charge rea sonable. MRS. M. A. ELKINS. TIRE SUBSCIBER. was the old subscriber, His eyes were old and dim, ut "he wan't takin' no paper That was nokin' chaff at him." 'or he picked his paper up one day And it went to his heart like a rocket; "Whom the gods love, die young, it said, But they whose hearts are dry," he read, 'As summer's dust, burn to the socket." 'hen he looked through the paper with wrath and doubt. And his heart with anger burned; 'or he found a t had been left out And he found an o that was "turned." ind he lifted his voice with a mighty shout As the sheet with his feet he spurned. le stopped his paper; he would not read Suh a blundering, villainous sheet; )f the news it contained he bad no need, He could hear the news on the street. )nly ten days later, he sold his corn, But he pounded his head full of dents, hen he learned, after selling for twelve and a-half. It was quoted at forty-two cents. knd his farm was sold for taxes, because He didn't know when they were due, .nd he bet on a race three days after date, And he bet on the wrong horse, too. le was fined nine dollars and seventy cents For going out shooting on Sunday, For he did'nt know, with no paper to read, Whether t'was Sunday or Monday. Ie came to town to the Fourth of July, But it had been gone for a week, knd he felt so mad, that he wanted to cry, For he didn't know how to speak. Ee thought that Grant was President yet, And he never had heard of Hayes; t was worry, and blunder, and trouble, and fret, All of his weary days. 3o he came to town, one summer morn, And "signed" for his paper again, tnd went back home to his wheat and corn, The happiest man among men. -Burlington Hawkeye. RENTS SIT[ITION, -0 'Oh, 1 wish I wore rich,' said ena Lewis, out aloud, in the full ess of her hcart. 'I wish I could e a fine lady and play croquet in soft muslin edged with lace, and irench kid hoots, and wear real irds of paradise in my hat like lIiss Clara.' And leaning her el OWS on the wide window sea.t she ooked down through.the morning ;cren of Lamarque rose leaves at hec merry party on the lawn )elow. Little Rena Lewis' life had all een one upward aspiration. She iad no idea where she was horn. e only knew that they had *ound her in a basket on the steps )f the 'Dorcas Foundling Asylum,' .vith a shawl wrapped around her, nd a pair of bright brown eyes itaring up at the sky. She had een 'bound out' at ten years old, ud her unusual quickness and ;pirit chancing to attract the at ention of her mistress, had so ~ured her a good English educa 'Rena,' said Mrs. Brown, when he was seventeen, 'you are too right and intelligent for a mere servant-maid ; you have more rains than are Deeded for scouring pots and dusting chairs. Howv ould you like to become a .achr?' 'Oh, Mrs. Birown,' said she , 'it is what I have always dreamed 'Mrs. Alen was here yesterday,' said her mistress ; 'she has a niece iving out at Georgetown Hcights, who wants a nursery governese for her little girls. Salary $25 ai month-duties light and agree. able. I think, Rena, you could teach two little girls their read ing and spelling, and keep theit ribbons fr*esh anid their p)infores clean ?' 'Oh, I know I could !' eried th< girl, with reddening cheeks an. lips all garlanded with happy smiles. 'But-my clothes: ;1'v< nothing but a dyed merino anc two faded calico dresses-' ''ll see to that, mny dear,' sait Mrs. Brown, kindly. 'You hav< worked faithfully for me and yot deserve a present. I will give yoi an outfit; and I will tell Mrs Alen, who has a few toolish ideal on the subject of social position that you are the orphan child c a friend of mine. It's a little hi of a white lie, to be sure, hut don.'t fhinuk the roOrdingr ang6 wili ne very hard on me for it.' So Rena Lewis went to the handsome Italian villa on George town Heights, and fancied her self in Eden. Mrs. Alen, the younger, declared herself delight ed with the new governess. 'She's so pretty,' said Mrs. Alen, 'and has such a soft, soaring voice, and Loo and Olie are so fond oflaer. And she dres, as Clara's hair so exquisitely ; better than any Pari. sian maid could do.' For Miss Clara Alen, Mr. James Alen's cousin from the South, was there spending the summer, and it was Miss Clara's dresses, Miss Clara's jewelry, and Miss Clara's general dash and glitter that had awakened all these long ing ideas in poor Rena's heart, especially since Harold Reede had begun to come there so much. Harold Reede was the hand some young rector of a neighor ing church-tall, dark and dis tingue. lie had asked Rena Low. is to take charge of a class in the Sunday-school; he had escorted her home one rainy Sunday night, as courteously as if she had been one of the royal princesses; and in her secret heart Rena thought him the best, the noblest and the most beautiful of human beings. Just as the big round tears were trem bling on her eyelashes, behind the screen of Lamarque roses, in the still sunshine of the August after noon, Miss Alen's voice was heard echoing on the stairs. 'Rena! Rena Lewis! are you dead and buried, or what has be come of you ?' Rena started up hurriedly, brushing the dew from her eye lashes. '1 am here, Miss Alen,' said she. 'Can you play croquet?' im periously called out the fair Clara. 'A little.' 'Then come down at once,' said Miss Aleu. 'Alice IIarland, tire some thing, has gone home wvith a headache- and we want one more to finish the game. I don't sup pose you are much of a player but you will do better than noth ing.' Little Rena Lewis, far too much elated by the prospect of croquet to pay much heed to the ungra ciousness of the invitation, flew to put on her hat, and came blushing and smiling down stairs like an animated daisy. Rev. Harold Reede, as it chanced, was her part nr, and he thought he had never seen so fair and fresh a creature as Rena, in garden hat, with na ture's own roses on her cheeks. and eyes that shone like stars be neath their dark fringes. 'Am 1 aiming right ?' she said, timidly, with uplifted mallet, on~e tiny foot p)ressinlg the ball Ifeep down into the grass. Mr. Reede smiled. 'You could not have aimed more correctly,' said he ; and Miss Alen, who was watching them from the back-ground, bit her lips and se cretly regretted .her haste in call ing Miss Lewis to the rescue. 'An artful, flirting little puss,' thought she. But at this moment Mrs. St. Jerome-a fine lady, with a berouged countenance and a costume like unto the French plates in the magazines-called out, tragically : 'It's the very one!' 'Dear me, Mrs. St. Jerome,' said Clara, with a nervous start, 'what can you mean by frightening one out of one's wits ?' 'I have seen her at Mrs. Brown's,' cried the fine lady. 'I knew her countenance was familiar to me I never yet was mistaken in a fac-scouring the front dloorsteps and s.veoping out the hall.' 'Whbo on earth do you mean ?' cried Mrs. Alen half inclined to believe her friend was going mad. 'I meaa her,' said Mrs. St. Je rome, pointing straight at poor blushing Rena with the handle of her pearl-and-silver fan. 'She is not mi.stakcn,' said Rena, with burning cheeks. '1-1 was SMrs. Brown's servant-maid before I came here.' fMiss Alen recoiled from the con ttact of Rena's fluttering scarf. [Mrs. St. Jerome sank upon a gar en.at with her smellingdlbottle pressed to her nose. Mrs. Alen drew herself up haughtily. 'You never told me this,' said she. Rena's lips quivered, the tears rushed to her eves. 'Was it any disgrace ?' said she. 'Of course you won't keep her,' said Clara. 'Certainly not,' said Mrs. Alen, 'and I shall never foigive Mrs. Brown for practicing such a de ceit as this upon me.' Little Rena dropped her mallet on the grass and ran into the house, scarcely waiting until she had reached her own room, to burst into the bitterest tears she had ever shed. 'It is such a cruel world ;' she sobbed; 'oh! why will people look and speak so unkindly ? oh, I wish that I were dead!' She went back to Mrs. Brown, who received her, figuratively speaking, with open arms. 'If people will be fools, my dear,' said she, 'it's no fault of yours. You shall stay with me until we can hear of another situation.' But the one circumstance of all that troubled Rena most, and which, frank though she was, she could not confide to good Mrs. Brown, was the certainty that she should never see Harold Reede more. In this, however, it chanced that she was mistaken. She had not been three days within the shelter of her old home when Rev. Mr. Reede was announced. Rena came blushing down to see him. 'i-I thought you would avoid me,' she faltered, 'after what hap pened at the croquet ground.' 'Avoid you ?' repeated he. 'For 'what do you take me, Miss Lewis? Stay a minute. Let me speak. I have always admired you ; but upon that afternoon I compre hended my own heart. I knew then that I loved you.' And Rena, in the blissful con fusion of her contending emotion, knew not what answer to make. 'So,' said Mrs. Brown, shrewdly, "we have no neced to look out fresh situation, oh ? No situations like that of a wife, Rena.' And all the brightness of Mrs. Harold iReede's life had its sup. plying fouut from the croquet ground, on Georgetown Heigh ts, where Rena Lewis suffered that cruel humiliation. 15sttlIEouzN. NE WSPA PE RS. Extracts from the Address of Whitelaw Reid Before the New York State Press Association. This, then, I conceive to be the next great revolution in journal-. ism. We shall not have cheaper newspapers. They are the cheap est thing sold now, considering the cost of making them. We shall not have continually growing sup plemeut upon supplement of adver tising, individual wants will seek mediums more suitable. Only gen eral wants will seek the publicity of great journals, and these will be kept, by increasing cost, within manageable compass. We shall not have more news. The world is ransacked for it now. Earth, sea and air carry it to us from every capital, from every people, from every continent and from very island. We shall not have bigger newspapers ; they are big ger now than a busy people can read. We shall have better news papers; the story better told; bet ter brains employed in the telling ; briefer papers dealing the more important of current matters in such style and with such fascina tion that they w ,ill command the wildest interest. There will be more care and ability in selecting, but of the myriad of~ things you might tell, the things that the better people want to be told, or ought to be told. There will be greater skill in putting these things before them in the most convenient and attractive shape. Judgment in selecting the news ; genius in telling it-that is t,he goal for the highest journalistic effort in the future. In making a newspaper, the heaviest item of expense used to be the white pa pe. Now it is the news. By and by, let us hope, it will be the ains. rTiE PRESS MORE POTENT THAN EVER. Is the power of the press declin ing? Every little while some discontented clergyman or extinct politician declares it is. Quite re. cently they have given us very solemn discourses about it. News papers are more read, they admit, but less heeded. With the air of discoverers they tell us of the past generation, and triumphantly exclaim : 'But who minds now what a newspaper says?' There were giants in those days ; only pigmies walk the earth to-day. In the .arlier times the great news papers stood for a great noise. It has become selfish, it wants to make money, it is on a commer cial basis now, it actually supports itself-how can such a press wield the old influence? I wish to epeak with due respect; but really this sort of talk-and we hear a good deal of it from unsuccessful quar ters-seems to me the twaddle of mushy sentimentalists. Far wiser and matlier was the tone taken by Lord Macaulay, in opening his great history:. 'Those who com pare the age on bich their lot has fallen with a golden age which exists only in their imagination, may talk of degeneracy and decay; but no man who is correctly in formed ts to the past will be dis posed to take a morose or despond ing view of the present.' It is easy to marshal the great names of the past, and idle to try to match them from the living. We count no man great, anyway, till he is dead. But great men do not necessarily make the great est newspapers. As well might you challenge the London Times, in the zenith of its influence, say in 1855, to prove itself the equal of the old Public Advertiser of the century before, and crush it with the taunt, 'Where have you a man the equal of Junius ?' it is not true that the ability of the press is declining. The pa pers of the country are better written now than they ever were before. Their average courtesy is greater ; their average merality is prer ; their average tendency higher. They better hit the w ants of great, miscellaneous commu nities, and so they have more readers in proportion to popula tion. Their power may be more diffused ; but it is unmistakably greater. There has been no more remarkable phenomenon in the istory of the profession tban the rapid growth of'the country press aud its increase in abillity, in re sources, in self-i-espect and in in fluence. - LEADS ALL THE REsT. No! The power of the newspa. pCI- is not declining. Never be forec was it so great. Never befor e did it offer such a career. But it is power accomplanied by the usual conditions-greater when most self-respectinLg and least self-seek ing. There is more good, young blood tending to this than to any of the other professions. Thbere is more movement in it than in bar, or pulpit, or whatever other so~ called learned profession you will -more growth, a larger oppor. - tunity, a greater future. 'We are getting the best. These young men will leave us far behind. They will achieve a usefulness and command a power to which we cannot ,aspire. Vry crude and narrow will seem our worthiest work to the able editors of a quar ter or a hglf century hence-very splendid will bc the structure they erect. We shall not rear the col umns or carve the capitals for that stately temple. Let us, at least, aspire. with honest purpose and on a wise plan, to lay aright its foundations. All is hollow where the hear1 bears not a part, and all is peri where principle is not the guide When the purse is empty anc the kitchen cold, then is the voict of flattery no longer heard. All the girls are becoming vege tarians. They wear turn-up hats Obedience -is nobler than fr-ee dom. LEADVILLE. Life and Incidents in That Flourishing Town. Leadville letter to the iN. Y. Jerald: The excitement of the hour is th-, killiing of Jacob M. Grier by F. M. Ritchie. Grier was the barkeeper of the Merchants restaurant. a man universally pop ular. lie may still be remembered by some at the east as the rail way engineer who several years ago, while hauling an express train over the Pennsylvania road at the rate of forty miles an hour, saw a little girl on the track be fore him, rapidly crawled upon the cowcatcher and caught her in time to save her life. F. M. Ritchie. a barkeeper from Arkan sas, had bought an interest in the Merchants saloon, but had failed to come to a final understanding with Ellis, the proprietor, who ordered him to be excluded from the place. On Friday evening Ritchie came to the saloon and was prevented from going behind the counter by Grier, who was in charge. It was about eight o' clock, and at that hour the broad avenue on which the saloon stands is full of men, partly miners re turned from their prospect holes and partly new comers just emp tied from the stages. A crowd of these were standing around the door when the two men, Grier and Ritchie, speaking loudly and gesticulating, appeared on the threshold. In Leadville a "diffi culty" is pretty well understood, and it is pretty well understood,too, that it generally takes the form of lead. So the crowd began to scatter. In an instant shots were heard-z- witnesses say two, some three-and Grier's dead body was seen qn the side-walk. The physicians testify that he was shot twice through the chest and died in ten seconds. A jury was summoned on the following day and found a verdict of willful and felonious murde.r against Ritchie, and he will (probably ?) be dluly tried. His defense is that Grier struck him with his fist and then fired at him in the street ; that he only used his pistol in self-defense. But Grier's popularity leaves him few apologists in this town. Peo ple are getting sick of all this bru tality and violence and fraud and debauchery of all kinds. It is on ly the other (lay that a man was shot dead for claiming a town lot, and another, a mining contractor, met the same fate from a laborer who claimed to be paid off on Wednesday instead of Saturday. As to robberies. they are of daily occurrence. Every night some lone ly wayfarer is requested to "hold up his hands" by two or three bunkos with revolvers in close proximity to his nose, and pun ishment hardly ever follows the offense. In the rare instances in which arrests are made the bun ko's confederates are always on hand to prove an alibi. A local newspaper desiring to glorify the town states in a recent article that "though it is scarcely two years since the first building was put up ere. it now contains-beer halls, 19 ; saloons, 120 ; gambling-houses, 118; houses of prostitution, 35. This is a pretty showing, but the line of argument by which it is made to gratify any citizen's pride is not easily followed. We have imported our vices from the west as well as the east. One~in stitution-known as opium club balls-has been borrowed from Sarn Francisco. The main object of the club is, of course, the smok ing~ of o piurm. But the deleterious charms of the drug arc heightened by the presence of female society, and the meetings of the club are held in rooms closely shut up and* heated to such an extent that cloting is un bearable. Here scores of creatures spend their days and nights in semi-stupor, uncon scious of everything but the dreamy, sensuous languor which DeQuincy so graphically describes. .o policeman can enter there, unless, indeed, he desires member ship in the club and has money enough to pay his share of the ost. But public rumor is much at fault if on the list of members you could not find some of the liadin- merchants. lawyers and. ADVERTISING -RATES. Advertisements inserted at the rate of L1.00 per square (one inch) for first insertion Ui(d 75 cents for each subsequent insertin;. ouhle column advertisements ten per cent. )n above. Notices of meetings, obituaries and tributes )f respect, same rates per square as ordinaiy ulvertisements. Special Notices in Local column 15 cents ,er line. Advertist-ments not marked with the num >er of insertions will he kept in till forbid, td ebarged accordingly. Specizl contracts nade with birge ndvei :isers, with i beral -!eiiuetions on above rates, JOB PR I.VTIlOG D)ONE lITH1 NEATNESS AND DISPATCH TERMS CAS.H. mine-owners. Life is very hard here. The climate is exceedingly tryin(; it snows every month in the year. Few men have their wives with them. Hence the in ordinate number and vast variety of resorts devoted to what is called pleasure. BE SURE TO TAKE A PAPER. The following from the Lexing ton Dispatch may be a !;tle over drawn, but it is not very %ide of the true mark : MESSRS. EDIToRS--Very recently I called on a good farmer, when the following conversation en sued: 'I am mighty glad you have come, I want to bear the news; I know you always have it-you read the papers.' 'Well, I know nothing of much interest. I believe the exodus of the negroes has created some lit tle attention.' 'The exodus of the niggers! Does it kill many of them? Is it as bad as the yellow fever, or is it worse?' 'Oh, no. It is considerable num. be moving to Kansas.' 'Ah, that is to Liberia, away across the ocean ; they say they die very fast there.' 'No; Kansas is one of -h United States.' 'A b, it joins Maine.' 'No, it is a Western State ; Maine is East.' 'How far is it ? Do you have to0 cross any big waters to go there ?' 'Nothing larger than the -Mis sissippi. It is not a thousand miles from where they are emigrating.' 'Have to cross the Massassippy ! Does. that country over there be long to us?' 'Oh yes, as far as the Pacific Ocean.' 'Goodness! We must own most all the world. What a great bles-- ' ing to know all these things.' N.. 'Read the newspapers.' The int migration of the negroes is a small* item of news. You ought to take a paper.' 'I would, but I am too poor.' Now, reader, when we sat down to dinner, after faring sumptuous ly, we left enough on the table-to pay for a paper, and yet, this fam. ily would sacrifice the luxury of reading a newspaper. 1 know numbers, the sdper fuities of a single Sunday dress, of any one of whose family would pay, for a paper. Numbers of men pay more i.n a year for whis-' key than would -pay for half a dozen papers. I do not mean drunkards. I heard a reliable man recently say, he knew some of his church brothers who pay twenty dollars a year for wvhiskey. and claim to be too poor to take their denominational paper. Editoi's and newspapers are auxiliaries in the good work of in telligence. Every man in the coun ty is a much heavier sufferer thtan he conceives, if he does not read his county paper. S. M. S. T wo VoxCEs-"Thbe s weetest voice I ever heard," said Bishop, "was a woman's. It was soft and low, but penetrating ; musical and measured in its accents, but not precis.e. We were on a steamer, and she murmured some common place about the scenery. Ido not remember what she said, but I. can never forget the exquisitely tender, musical voice." "The sweetest voice I ever heard," re plied the professor, "was a man's. I had been out fishing nearly all day, and got back to the hotel about three o'clock. The muan came out on the front stoep, opened his mouth like a sea-cav ern, and roared 'DIN-NU.R!! !' till it soured the milk in the cellar. I ave heard other voices since-" I 1f.(%17 ~