THE HERALD! IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESAY MORNING, At Newberry, S. C. BY TPHOS, F, ORIORKKRRt~vrti ntnikd' Editor and Proprietor. __________ --a * ~4 LeJ( gv Terms, $2.00 per A Family Companion, Devoted toc~ Literature, Mile.tr r Invariably in Advance,.oLtrtr,Mseln,Nw, giutr,Mres c :: A e: The paper is stopped osertcd at th rt e iAT time for which it is paid. tThe ~4mark denotes expiration of sub IVol. XVII. WEDNESDAY MOIRNING JANUAR f, 180 No - ' criptin. ____on_above._ EUIZ! iUE! The subscriber having bought the stock of the firm of J. Taylor & Co., will continue to conduct the business in all of its various branches of WHEELWRIGHT WORK, BLACKSMITHING, PAINTING AND TRIMMING, All of which will be done in first class style. I have a choice and well selected stock of seasoned material and will build Double and Single Seat Buggies for sale and to order, of any style or pat tern, prompyly, and guarantee satisfaction, as I will employ none but the best and most careful workmen; and spare no pains to make my work first class. OLI?CARRIAGES AND BUGGIES reno vated and made to look equal to i ew. REPAIRING done in the best manner and with dispatch. HORSESHOEING and PLANTATION WORK promptly done. All of the above will be executed AT /IVESTC A$HPRICES. A liberal patronage respectfully solicited. J. TAYLOR, Shop Opposite Jail, NEWBERRY, S. C. TERMS CASH. Oct. 8, 41-6m. .)iseeUaneous.. L. Ct CIAMAN &ON Respectfully announce that they have on hand the largest and best variety of BU RIAL CASES ever brought to Newberry, consisting of Fisk's Metalic Cases, Embalming Cases, Rosewood Cases. Together with C~OFFINS of their own Make, Which are the best and cheapest in the place. Having a FINE HEARSE they are pre pared to furnish Funerals in town or coun try in the most approved manner. Particular attention given to the walling up of graves when desired. Give us a call and ask our prices. R. C. CRAPMAN & SON. May 7, 1879. 19-tf. 'The Best Agricultural Journal Publishedi& the South." THE SOUTHERN A LARGE QU7ABTO of 82 Ing of interest to the fe, mer, with an inlustrated fahion departmenbftthe ladies. a ya.1a % year. Saeecoy1 ents, a whitaker stetSavamish Saapre copy of-n~ Savmaak Weey Yeses,"ae um ,ecepe af 8.cos st. Mzeenaaboe. NEW YORK SiOPPINR Everybody is delighted with the tasteful and beautiful selection made by Mrs. La mar, who has NKVR FAILED to please her customers. Ne;.- Fall circular just issued. Send for it.. Address MRS. ELLEN LAMAR. 877 Broadway, New York. Nov. 26, 48-tf. .11.J heittom te e Lamnd ~ar cb ate Fona a~oi&bt home ad e y hidutios Capita o4eqie - w w v sar th d,lgi fote le s t a p ansucas tanyoeiao ightSE5a Thos ..eair ad esse aoe ad ete Oevs ost OTuaanteed. $12e. Nay ou.sta, omen 2oy a -.grl mae moneyfdtre atw or es,ay an t such asan oe ng ih t TANNRY is th i hs led twr 4 - Dry Goods and .otions. DRY GOODS EMPORUM! S.H. CLINE C. Respect''ully announce that their assort ment in . STAPLE AND FANCY DRY GOODS, WHiTE GOODS, HANDKERCHIEFS, GLOVES, HOSIERY, NOTIONS, LADIES' FINE SHO. -AND Plantation Shoes, IS NOW OPEN, And invite an early inspection by their friends and customers. With v'ks for pist favors we respect fully solicit a continuance of the same. Oct. 15. 42-tf. Clothing. CLOTHING, UNDERWEAR, HATS, SHOES, &c. NEW FALL STOCK -AND NEW PRICES. WRIGHT & 1.W . IJOPPOIK Invite attention to their elegant stock of othin[ & uiShing onds, Guaranteeing Satisfaction Both in Quality and Price. Suits Fine, Medium, Commen, LOWER THAN EVER. CIVE US A CALL. WIRIGEN& J. W.00JPPO0K No. 4 Mollohon Row, LNEWBERRY, S. 0. Oct. 1, 17-1y. 9. B. BUTER & CJ9., MACHINE SHOP GRIST MiLLS. The undersigned have associated togethei for the purpose of conducting a MACHINI SHOP and GRIST MILL, and will give par ticular attenition to Repairing Engines and Boilers, and persons having work of this kind to de will find it to their advantage tc patronize s. SATISFACTION GUARANTEED. We are also Agents for ENGIES, TIIRESIIERS,&0. OUR GRIST MILLS Are running daily, turning out the best of Meal, and Merchants can rely on being supplied at all times and AT THE LOW EST RATES. BLACKSMITH WORK. Mr. JAS. ROLLISON, the well knowi Blacksmith, is with us and is assisted bya first-class Horse-Shoer. WHEELWRIGHT WORK. Mr. THOS. CHAPM AN, late of Jalapa, is on hand to do work in his line. 0. B. BUT LER. R. H. ANDERSON. Nov. 5, 45-3m. BRIGHT, ATTRACT'IVE, CHEERFUL. Mrs. Julia McNair Wright's New Book, THE COMPLETE HOME. Full of practical information. The euxprienced house-kers friend a1e Rlgion Mor s, Money. Famil rov HOEBAUTIFUL DI) APP dA mbook of more practica til il ses tion."-Christian AdIvocath$e. nalcu NEEDELD tr homes, by rich and poor eauiful Binding, Splenlid IllstratinS Nearly 600 pages. Low Prices. Sells rapidly A NSWANTE MISN. De scrit and terms tree. . C. McCUEDY & CO., Philadelphia, Pa, Cincinnati, 0., Chicago, l, or, St. Louis, Mo, THE SIGNAL. The day is come for the ship to sail, and for John to go to sea, And his aged mother is fretting with the bairnie on her knee; The morning meal is scarcely touched, and the wife is still for sorrow. For her good man will soon be gone, and she will be lone to-morrow; Black clouds are'lowering in the sky, but between them streams the sun, With the light of hope in the dark time that for her is just begun. Oh, may his heart keep as true as hers, and 1 ship in safety run! And now they are waiting on the beach, and John with uneasy breath, Is fearing to say the sad farewell-farewell, tde shadow of death; They have little to say, and little know of writing in the books, But though they have lack of words they can talk to each other with looks; They can feel the heart in the hand, and read that is written in eyes; They can tell of their joys and their sorrows in kisses and in sighs, And so can they speak to each other withou the words of the wise. There is the good ship, the Mary Ann, at her moorings in the bay; And a boat is grating on the sand, and ready to sail away To the waiting ship with John and his mates. Ah, there's the signal gun! And the husband turns to kiss his wife, and they to each other run; It is over at last, and her good man is with the other tars; She will, weeping, watch the good ship go till the dark clouds hide the spars; And then for long lonely nights by the seas below the silent stars. -From Belgravia. THE BOUND GIRL. - o Locust Heights was one of the loveliest homesteads in the county of - . Its owner was wealthy, influential, and considered a 'an of honor and a gentle, generous, charitable gentleman. le was about thirty years of age and un married, a fact well known to all the anxious mothers wvith a sur plus of marriageable daughters con band. But Gilbert Pierson gave mothers and daughters a wide berth, for he had no desire to mar ry. When he found his ideal, Lo cust Heights w ould have a mis tress, not before, he said, never thinking that the woman that would open the gates of' Paradise for him was even then in the sound of his voice. 'No, Jack,' Gilbert Pierson was saying in a dreamy sort of waj, '1 have never yet seen the woma n I could make my wife.' Jack Delarey laughed merrily as he mounted his horse to ride away. He had been making a morning call at the Heights, and as usual, brought up. the question of his friend's marriage, for Jack was a happy benedict, and anxi Ouls to see his friend settled. 'Well I hope you'll meet your fate some day, and when you do meet her let nothing stand in you.r way.' 'No fear for that, Jack,' replied Pierson, w bo knew whbat his friend hinted at ; triches or poverty-it will be all the same to me.' Jack rode off, and Gilbert turn ed to retrace his steps to the house. A handsome drive, cool and shaded, led up to the mansion, whose vine-wreathed porticos and long windows, around which roses were trained with artistic taste, were flooded with the bright August sunshine, and broad patch es of gold lay on the velvety lawn, where a few tame deer were lying. In one of those same golden patches, and not ten rods from where Pierson was lounging, stood a woman, her dark, beautiful Gyp sytface upturned to the summer sky, and a mass of' black satin-like hair falling about her shoulders. Her dress was some bright cheap material, but fitted her to perfec tion, and the band that clasped the rim of a jaunty straw hat w as as bro wn as a berry. She seemed to be lost in deep thought, for the very eyes sejmed to be drinking in the beauty of' t,he scene around b er. Gilbert Pierson was struck with amazement. He had never met her in the neighborhood, and walked up to her with a puzzled expression on his countenance. 'Can 1 do anything for you, Miss-?' he said, as she turned to him with a startled look on her bright face. The voice that an swered him was as sweet and clear as silver bells. 'I have lost my way, sir. Wish to get home-to Mrs. Patterson's, if you please.' 'To Mrs. Patterson's ?' echoed 'Mr. Pierson, as the blushing face crimsoned still deeper beneath his ardent gaze. 'Why, you are a good two miles from there.' 'Oh, dear,' exclaimed the girl with a weary sigh, 'then I won't have the berries home in time for dinner.' She glanced down at the tin pail standing at her feet, and Pierson saw it was not half full of berries. 'Berry-seeking, eh, smiled Pier son, '1 never knew Mrs.LPatterson owned such a charming daughter.' 'Daughter!' she echoed with a merry laugh; 'I am the bound girl-free in one month. Mrs. Patterson's dainty daughters do not wade through wet grass and brambles after berries. But please tell me the shortest route home ; Mrs. Patterson will be angry at my delay.' Mr. Pierson stepped aside and spoke to a servant who was pas sing. 'Come, now,' he said laugbingly, 'as you are a neighbor, I must use I you neighborly. While Seth is filling your pail with fruit from my garden, I will order a lunch and see that you get home in time for dinner.' 'Oh, Mr. Pierson, you are too kind ; no one is ever kind to Ma rah Grey,' she says, with a bright smile; although her dark eyes are full of tears. And they walk side by side up the cool avenue, the young bound girl talking with the grace and ease of a thorough woman ot the world and Mr. Pierson stam mering bewildered answers in a manner totally unlike his usual genial frankness. But his momen tary diffidence soon vanished as they became better acquainted over the delicate lunch the ser vants provided. He found, by a few cautious questions, that Ma rah Gray was an orphan and very unhappy in the house of Mrs. Pat terson, who had two daughters of her own-vain, homely girls who envied the poor bound girl her beauty and kept her in the background. Ho found her intelli gent, and was astonished at the shrewdness of her remarks, while his heart ached at her pathetic stories of her child-life. 'What a beautiful home,' she said as they stood together on the portico. 'I think you must be happy.' She lifted her shy, dark eyes to the grave, gentle face of the man before her. The tender light of some newly awakened feeling was in Lheir depths, and Gilbert Pier son's heart galve a great throb as he thought of the possibility of having the girl's face always at is fireside. '1 am not so very happy. Rich es do not always bring happiness you know,' he said with a smile. 'And I know,' she replied, 'some people have everything their heart desires, but contentment. I hope shall never be among the num ber.' 'Yet you are not content,' he says wistfully. 'Not very ; but still I am thank Iful for the few blessings showered upon me, one of which is your kindness this morning,' she laughs as sbe trips down the steps and takes her seat in the wagonette Seth had driven round. 'What splendid berries!' she ex claims, as Mr. Pierson takes his seat by her side. She felt confused and shy, for she expected Seth to drive her home, and tried to hide her confusion in examining the berries. 'Mrs. Patterson will be delighted.' '1 hope so, for I intend to ask a f~vor of her.' Marah Grey's cheeks were like roses, and her eyes glowed like stars as they drove home under the tall maples, for some strange, deep happiness had crept into her lonely heart. Her life had been so joyless that Mr. Pierson's gent ly proffered kindness seemed but a glimpse into another world. Summers might bloom and fade, winter.s ome and gon with chilling iblasts and cheerless rain, but the glory of that summer day would never grow dim. The crimson poppies that edged the corn flush ed a deeper red as the sunlight touched their silken leaves, wild roses nodded gaily as the girl's lovely eyes fell on them, and the bird's in the green boughs over head .aroke into blithe snatches of song, ass.if they would re-echo the g!adness in the yoang girl's fresh, sweet voice. 'I can never thank you too much,' she says with a smile and a blush, as Mr. Pierson set her down at Mrs. Patterson's door. 'I will call to-morrow and ask Mrs. Patterson's permission to call on you. May I ?' he laughs mer rily. 'Oh-' with a little shrug of hor ror, 'you must not; Mrs. Patterson would not like it.' 'We shall see.' And he did see. Mrs. Patterson was politeness itself until Marah Grey's name was mentioned. Af ter that ice itself could not have been colder. She could not un derstand how a man in Cilbert Pierson's position could stoop to associate with a bound girl. But she was too wise to risk her repu tation by refusing her permission, and Marah was sent into the par for becomingly. dressed,to the chag rin of Mrs. Patterson's danghters, who had often tried to attract the attention of the bachelor master of Locust Heights. Marah Grey's bondage was drawing to a close. In two days she would. be free-free to go where she pleased ; yet, strange as it may appear, something akin to fear lent a saddened expression to her bright face as Gilbert Pier son stood by her side in Mrs. Pat terson's elegant parlor. 'I have not had a happy home here,' sho says, in a low voice, 'but in two days I will be home less.' 'Does Mrs. Patterson refuse to retain you in her ser-vice ?' 'She says I cannot stay one hour over my time.' Mara-h's eyes fill with tears, for Gilbert Pierson's friendship had cost her many a frown. 'Marab'-his face is very close to hers-'have you been blind ? Do you not know that I wou!d not have sought your society unless I loved you, for I think I have loved you since the first moment I met you. Oh, my little hcmeless one, let me give you my love and pro tection for life.' Marab's head drooped lower and her lips murmured some faint pro test against his marrying a bound girl. 'Bound or free, you are mine.' hn e read the answer in the dark eyes as he kissed the upturn ed face. Mrs. Patterson was shocked. But Gilbert Pierson had his wvay, and carried1 Miss Grey off to the Delaney's, whoe were delighted withl the bride-elect. In one month they were married, Jack Delaney giving away the bride. A ROBBER'S HONEST Y. BY A SHAM DERVISH. A sedentary life being against the principles of the dervish character wich I assumed, I often was oblig ed, willingly, or unwillingly, to. take my knapsack round my shoulders, and to make expeditions sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of my badji comrades. There happened always some ex traordinary things on these ex crsions. Sometimes witnessed a beartrending scone of slavery and cruelty ; at other times I saw strik ing examples of rude virtue and humanity. My dervish blessings remained never niurewarded. I sang until I became hoarse, but 'I filled my sack richly with ee,se and with horse or wild donkey's lesh; and I always got the pres ent of a piece of felt, or a handful ofcamel or sheep's wool, and some times even a piece of old garment, which the nomads threw off. Thbere was no fear of danger in th ienirns of Gomulshtene (a place where we halted amongst the Yomat-Turkomans);aud, as the number of my acquaintance grew always larger, I felt not the slight est hesitation to cxtend my roam ing expeditions a little further in the interior of such tribes as were on the friendliest footing with my hosts. It is true the latter often warned me to be cautious ; but as 1 wore nothing on me besides my wretched dervish garb, and my meagre purse containing about 20 krans (sixteen shillings,) I thought it superfluous to listen to prudent advice as to my safety, and pur sued my route for days together without taking the trouble to re turn every evening to my quar ters. One day, after having wandered about from one group of tents to another, I felt, towards the even ing, quite exhausted. I espied from afar one solitary tent, to which I turned my weary steps. An isolated tent in the desert is never recommended ; but I had nothing to choose, and soon de cided to ask hospitality of its in babitant for that night. I enter ed with the usual dervish chants and with a loud "Selam Alekum" ("Peace on you.") A tall, wild looking Turkoman received me at the door. He told me to sit down. We exchanged the customary sa lutations, and soon found ourselves in a deep conversation on religion, horse-breeding, and forays, their favorite topics. When the sun was nearly set on the vast and wild desert land scape, I saw my host was growing more and moro restless and un. quiet. He sat down and rose again, vent out and came back, without speaking to me a single word. I felt a little uncomforta ble. Suddenly be approached me, and with a rather bashful air ask ed me if I would not lend him some krans (money,) as he intend ed to treat me with a dish of rice meal (a special meal for guests,) add was highly puzzled from his not possessing a single farthing to buy rice. To lend money, I thought, is certainly better than to be robbed of it. I opened my purse and gave him five krans, which he hastily took and hurried away to make the necessarw pur dbase at a tent wh'ch he said was distant about a quarter of an hour. When he returned his face was beaming with joy and I really compassioned the poor but honest man who was so anxious to honor his guest. The supper was soon ready. A huge plate, enough to satisfy half a dozen empty stomachs, was put before me. lie and his wife, wvhom I ought already to have mention ed, sat opposite. It was only af ter my long insisting that I could induce them to share the meal with me. At length they too be gan to eat. We became more and more friendly. As we couldj not finish all our rice at once, the hos pitable woman asked me to stay a day iongcer with them. and to have a second dinner the following evening. My refusal of that kind offer will be easily understood. The next morning I rose early, bade farewvell to my host, who ap peared to be extremely touched,. and after 1 gave him and his horse (as is the custom) a bless ing, I left for my return to Go. mashtepe.. I had not been distant more than half an hour's walk from tbc tent when. I1suddenly beard a loud shoting behind me, which sum monod mo to stop in the most threatening terms. Seeing a wel armed horseman in pursuit, I stop. ped imnmedi.ately. My persecutox apprehended at a slow pace, an~ you may fancy my astonishmnent when I recognized in his person my host of the pas;t evening thai very Turkoman I biossed an houw before ! "Stop, badji," cried my friend with a deep voice and downcasi eyes, "Give me your purse, am. all you have on you, or .1-"' My astonishment had -no limits 'and as I took the whole .affair foi a joke, and laughed in his face the Turko'man grew ang.ry, an. said, "Don't delay, hadji, ocr I shal eob?iged to offend you." As robbery is not an offence il the eves ofa Turkoman, I though it advisable to obey his summon, I handed him my purse, also abou ti ee or four spoonfuls of greer tea I had on me, and a piece 0 old chintz which I used instead o a handkerchief. He took all m property without the slightes compunction, put it into his sael and just when I was ready to con tinue my way, called me back oplened my purse (now his own and gave me five krans from ~it saying "There, badji ;, take m debt of yesterday morning. think it was just five krans. don't hke to be a debtor." "What a strange honesty ? thought I to myself as I took th money. The robber now appear ed quite satisfied. In his view o moral and social life he had ac complished a noble deed, and wv. impudent enough to a,+k me on m: parting for a second blessing which of course I could not re fuse. I belioved his untaught con science was quite satisfied in tb whole transaction. Such pictures of mingled virtue and vices are often found amongs the nomads of Central Asia. I ha certainly a curious glimpse of bai barian life in the adventure wit the hospitable and honest robbei kRER RABBIT AND DE TAI BABY. - Another Story Told by Uncle Remus to i Sally's Little Boy. Atlanta Constitution. "Didn't the fox never catch tb rabbit, Uncle Remus ?' asked tb little boy to whom the old ma delights to relate his stories. "Ie come mighty nigh it, hone sho's you bawn-Brer Fox dic One day, arter Brer Rabbit foole 'im wid dat calamus root, Brer Fj went ter wuk en got 'im som tar, en mixt it wid some turker tine, en fixt up a tar baby, en b tuck dis yer tar baby en he sot 'e in de big road ; den he laid offi de bushes fer ter see wat de new wuz gwine to be. En he didn baf ter wait long, nudder, caz bimeby here come Brer Rabb pacin' down de road- lippity-elii pity, clippity-lippity-jez az sass as a hotel nigger. Brer Fox, h lay low. Brer Rabbit come prar ein''long 'twell he spied de ta baby, en den he fotch up on. h: beime legs like .be wuz 'stor ished. De tar baby she sot da: en Brer Fox he lay low. "'Mawnin'!' sez Brer Rabbi sezee, 'nice wedder dis mawnin sezee. "Brer Fox, he wink his ey slow, en lay low, en de tar bab e ain't sayin' nuthin'. "'How you come on, den ? ou deaf?' scz Brer Rabbit. seze< Caze ef you is, I kin holler lout er.' sezee. "Tar baby keep quiet, en Br< Fox, lie lay low. "'Youer stuck up. dat'sw' you is,' sez Brer Rabbit, sozee, 'e I'm gwi ne to kyore you, dat's w't I'm a gwineter do,' sezee. "Brer Fox, he sorter chucklei his stum muck, but tar baby ain sayin' nutbin'. "I'm gwineter larn you bowtt talk ter' 'specttobble people hit's de las' ack,' sez Brer Rabbi sezee. 'Ef you don't take off d: at en tell me howdy, I'm gwin ter bus' you wide open, sez'ee. "Tar baby set still, en Brer Fo: he lay low. "Brer .Rabbit keep on axin' 'it en de car baby keep on sayi nuth in', twell presently Brer Ra bit draw back wid his fis' at blip he tuck him side or do heca Right dar's whar he broke h molasses jug. IIis fis' stuck en 1 couldn't pull loose. D)e tar hi him. " GEf you don't lemmie go, I hit you agin,' sez Brer Rabbi sezce, eni wid dat he fotch him wipe wid de udder hani', en d stUCk. B3rer Fox he layv law. "'Turn me loose, 'fo' 1 kick< nat'r'al stufln' outen you,' s IBrer Rabbit, sezee, but de tar bal hilt on, en den Bret.r Rabbit los'' use un his feet in de same wa Brer Fox he lay low. Den Br Rabbit squalled out dat of de t Ibaby didn't turn 'im loose hb butt im cranksided, en he butt en his head got fasteied. Den Brer Fox, he sa'ntered fort', look in' des ez wunner yo' mammy's mockin' birds. f "'Howdy, Brer Rabbit, sez Brer f Fox, sezee. 'You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin',' sezee. en den he rolled on de groun', en laft