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VOL. X.?New Series. UNION C. II., SOUTII CAROLINA, APRIL 18, IS79. NUMBER 16 AJNiNilU MUKTUN. BY AMY 1IAUNED. "There comes dear father at last!" cx claiuied Auuic Morton, springing from her scat at an opeu window through which she had been earnestly looking a long tlnio in expectation of his arrival, while her sewing rested unheeded upon her lap. "Oh, what a ioug, long week this has been without him : dear father !" Aud the rich blood mantled on her cheek; her black eyes sparkled, and the smile that parted her ruby lips made her very beautiful, as she stood for one mouicotere she spraug through the easement and down the long avenue to meet the carriage which contained her father. The mother looker! after her daughter with pride ; but pressing her hand upon her heart as if in pain, sho suuk back upon her BOUt, "Ah! what will she Jo without me, wilJ wayward as she is ?" murmured Mrs. Morj ton. "The world has sadness in store for \ thee I fear, uiy daughter; when I am goue, who will shield thee, and care for thee, as I have done V* A deep shade of sadness rested for a uiouiout upon her face ; but it passed away as the mother bowed her head in prayer for her passionate, wayward, but loving child. She heard the party approaching the house, heard the kind voice of her husband as he auswered the questions which Annie pou>*ed upon him, and with a sweet smile Mrs. Morton roso to meet them. The cxcitcuieut of meeting her husband, after his temporary absence, brought a slight flush upon her check, making her look better thau she really was; but it gladdened the heart of Mr. Morton, for when he left home she was so ill as to cause him much alarm; and as he folded his wife in his arms, he said, tenderly? "Why, my dear Mary, Ishalllcavo home oftencr if my absence causes you to look so well. I have not seen so handsome a woman since I have been in li ; but 1 must not forget?here is a young gentleman waiting to be presented to you : 1 know you will welcome nun. Tears stood in Robert Denny 11's eyes.? There was souuthingin Mrs. Morton's face, in her sweet, sad suiilc that reminded him painfully of his mother, who?but a Few weeks previous?he had seen laid in the cold ground, hidden forever from his sight. 11 e could scarcely command his voice to speak. Mrs. Morton noticed his agitation, and divined the cause of it. She extended both hands to him, and said? "Robert Dennyn, I am glad to see you here. Your mother was the dearest friend of u?y girlhood ; for the love of our early days, a son of hers will ever bo most dear to me." "Charlie will be at home to-morrow, Robert," interrupted Mr. Morton gaily, anxious to give a less serious turn to the conversation ; "but 1 do not intend to set you down to your books yet awhile, my boy ; you have studied too much already? you need rest. 1 wish to see you strong and weil : exercise will be the best thing for you. There are horses in thestibloat your service ; and Annie, as wild a madcap as ever set foot in a saddle, ready to point out tuc beauties 01 an tlie country round, provided you can read Miss Baudot) to lier. and listen to her chattering. What say you, uiy little magpie, will you have this young gentleman lor your knight-errant '{ 1 doubt not lie will he willing to do your bidding." Annie replied merrily : supper was announced, and in pleasant chat, the evening passed rapidly away. Charlie Morton came the next day; and the warm grasp of his hand told to Robert bow much he sympathized with him in the r trials he had endured siuco they left eolIcge. No two persons could bo more unlike than Charlie Morton and Robert Bennyn. Robert was tall, handsome, and but for the tjmwhr.ric of a boy unused to.society, would have been very graceful. His face was perfect; a little too thin perhaps. At times, his largo black eyes flashed and sparkled with a brilliancy that lighted up his pale lace, otherwise?in its expression?too grave ; and he surprised as well as interested his companions, for when in conversation he would forget himself?few youths <;ould be more irresistible. Though brought up in a city, he had been more secluded than boys arc generally, therefore his manners needed that ease and self-coufidcnco which is only acquired by intercourse with society. I lid limn (tiiriiur liia innc; linl Imnn passed chiefly wilii his mother, whom ho idolized. As he approached manhood, he \ saw that mother?so dear?fading slowly away. When tho reality first Lur.st upon him that she was dying, llobert was stunned ?paralyzed beyond tho power of action. Was there no elixir of lile within his reach ? Alas ! no. The messenger of death came gently, peacefully to .Mrs. Donnyn, and she died, blessing her husband and hoii for their unwearied love, their untiring devotion, which bad soothed her many years of suffering JA?r a long time, Hubert refused to be comforted ; he bad loved bis mother with an intcusity which admitted do other thought. Life, indeed, to him seemed a blank without her. Just at this time, Mr. Morton paid his old friend a visit. lie was a man of acknowledged ability, aud 31 r. Deunyn knew that in placing his son with hiui, he would secure for him an able legal preceptor, as well as a kind frieud. Mr. Morton willingly received him under his charge, while ltobcrt gladly accepted the offer of his fathor which removed him, for a time, from that homo, now rendered painful by its memories of the dead. lie cauie to Mr. Morton's with a heart saddcued by the scenes of sorrow, through which ho had so recently passed; and the warm affection j with which the family greeted him, made him feel at once that he was not among strangers. Charlie aud himself had long been | friends : in college they were regarded as a i wjracle of brotherly attachment. No won- | jcr?for wl,o co'j'd look upon the clear, open, maniy brow of Charlie Morton, aud 1 hoar his riugiug joyous laugh, and uot love mm. uarc sat lightly upon liiui. His step . was quick and ficc; his whole uiauucr i beaming with kiuducss and good-nature | made him every where a welcome guest, and ] his return home a cause for rejoicing, llis ] father was very proud of him, for he had come oft' with flyiug colors at the fiual col- t legiate examination which lie had, with Rob- y ert Dennyn, so recently passed. The late j commeuccment Annie would havcattcnded, ( had not Mrs. Morton's unlooked for indis- j position detained her at homo. She bore < tho disappointment with a grace which proved she was not cutircly selfish. She was now wild with glee at the return of her , only brother, when she dearly loved. The coming of Robert Dennyn was an 1 eveut which decided the destiny of her life. ' lie was just the sort of person to enchain the uft'eCvions of a girl of seventeen. She soon learned to watch for his coming ; to listen for his voice; to note the ever-varyiug expression of his countcnauco with au eager interest which nou?t but those who have 1 loved cau ever know. Robert felt the power of her beauty. A " warm affection began to spring up in his . | heart for her?but Anuic was pettish and willful. Her passionate temper knew no ^ bounds?her violence repelled liiui man)' 1 times when he lclt most tenderly toward * her. ' She has no heart," lie would say ; and struggled to overcome the growing interest he felt in her. When she would be left alone after hav- . ing given vent to her temper, Annie would j feel overwhelmed with shame and self-re proacn; but she was ever too proud to acknowcldge lier faults, yet?although pas- J sionateand willful?Annie's character had in it the elements of a noble nature, had there ( been some one near her who could have ^ cheeked her wayward impulses, and taught her to subdue her proud will. She went ' on heedlessly; "sowing the wind" iu her folly, and, alss! indue time did she not "reap the whirlwind V 1 1 f "Annie," said Mr. Morton day, "my ' friend, Mr. Leslie, has purchased Lougbrook. 1 congratulate you, for he has two daughters about your own age. You will no longer ( want society : You, too, Charlie, must ride 1 over with Annie to see them ; and Robert, I Mr. 1 jeslie is also an old friend of your fa- 1 thcr; for the sake of 'auld lang syne,' 1 < should like you all to be upon pleasant l terms of intimacy." < flora and Mary Leslie, though sisters, bore little resemblance to each other, cither 1 iu person or character, flora was tho c more beautiful. Her face was of a style i rarely seen ; pale as a marble statue and as 1 cold : not a tinge of color ever mantled her i checks, lier hair?black as night?she i wore parted smoothly over her brow, and i folded in rich braids on her classic head, ! with a simplicity that delicti ornament.? t llcr eyes were not black, but of a deep, i dark blue, with long black lashes that swept I over her checks, still paler from the contrast. Her ligurc was tall and exquisitely i moulded, ller beauty did not, however, i leave a pleasai-t impression. There was 110 1 woman's gentleness, no warmth in her man- < tier; one felt as in the presence of an ice- j berg. Her sister, on the contrary, seemed < like a little sylph; and Robert Dennyn's < eyes rested so fondly upon her, as to cause 1 Annie Morton's heart to sink within her. 1 Mary Leslie's hair floated in ringlets round her neck with a wild grace; her bright blue eyc? gave so clear a light, and her laugh was so innocent and happy, <hit one felt certain that no guile was in her heart. Annie Morton and the Leslies were daily companions; and when their hours of study were over, Charlie Morton and Robert l)cnnyu always knew wkcro to find the young girls. Bright visions of the future rose up I before them; and, was it strange that in the dreams of each, the gentle, loving Mary lieslie walked, sideby side, through their life with them '( Both the young men loved her. The elder sister was too eold. Charlie said she lacked sincerity ; and Robert, though he admired her, fek a chill in her presence, the cause of which he did not seek to divine. But, though the young men loved best to linger by the side of sweet Mary Leslie, | Annie Morton was more with Flora. There was something in the bolduess and haughtiucss of Flora's manner that agreed with her owu impulsive temper, and she gradually fell more aud more uuder Flora's iuflueucc. Mrs. Morton watched with pain tho growing intimacy of the young girls; sho felt. ?with a mother's instiuct?that Flora wr.s a dangerous companion for her daughter, aud often urged her to bo more with Mary. "Why should I uot choose my own fricudsAnnie would exclaim, when Mrs. Morton remonstrated with her.? "What do you know agaiust hor, mother?" ".Nothing, .tny child but I know fnfr. s daughter has alttfred vory, Vtfy much since 1 she has been so intimate with hor. Flora ' Leslie is uot pure aud sruilclcss as her sis- 1 tcr." * " < But the mother's counsels were unheeded by Annie?she was unhippy. She began ] almost to /iatc Mary Leslie. The jealous 1 friend was constantly whispering that, but 1 for Mary, ltobert might be her own.? ! I'hc thought tortured her night and day. 1 A. dark, eullcu cloud settled over her brow ' ?bho became more and more unloving and 1 unlovely. Robert turned from her to , arcatho the calm atmosphere which sur- 1 ounded Mary?with a sigh, that ouc so | aeautitul could display so little tenderness. ' Mrs. Morton's health grew more delicate, ? md Annie therefore more free to do as she J villcd ; for Mr. Morton was too indulgent, ' ind Charlie too much occupied with his ( >wn dreams, which wore approaching their ' realization, to notice the change that had :rcpt over Annie. "I aui going to B , to morrow, Char- ] lie," said Robert, the day after his cxami- , ration ; for the three years of study had passed thus quickly away, bringing our ^oung friends over the threshold of mail- ( rood and womanhood. "Leave us so soon ! I did not expect this j Llobcrt?what shall I do without you?" , "Surely, in the love of Mary Leslie you | vill find lorgct lulu ess lbr all sorrow, or you , lo not half deserve so priceless a treasure," ( said Robert, sadly. "Mary Leslie 1" Charlie stammered. ' Mushed ; then laughing oft' his confusion, , said?"Yes, Robert, there will be a wedding, ] 11 the fall, at Longbrook?will you bo my , jroouisman ? I should have told you this . ong ago, but?" and he blushed again, and , io blushed agaiu, and again hesitated. ( "Say no more, my dear fellow, I know it < ill, and will couic." ] And lie did know all. Only that morn- s ng he had gone to Mary Leslie, and told , ler of his love, and how fondly he hoped it was returned. Tears cauie in Mary's eyes ] while she listened; but she had plighted ( ler faith to another?long ago had she giv- ] jn her heart to Charlie Morton ; and, in , gentle accents she told liiui so, while her | jluo eyes glistened as she saw the suffering t she caused. Robert acquitted her of all blauie. , "God bless you, Mary," said he, and they ] parted friends ; and from thenceforth lie felt ( die must be as a sister to him, when his ] leart was overflowing with love toward her. < The autumn came. The wedding was 1 iver. Robert Dcuuyn grasped the hand of bis friend with sincere and earnest wishes lor his future happiness. How could he 1 but be happy with that guileless, loving jrcature for his bride ; aud Robert was able Lo meet her, not only with calmness, but without a wish that it should be otherwise. A new love was beginuin to dawn upon liim, aud he only wondered that the spell jf Annio .Morton's loveliness had nor. hpon ipon hiui long before. Iu3toad, as of old, ieaving her to pursue her walks and rides 1 done, he was now ever by her side. ? Annie did not repulse him. A deep purpose was in her heart; to bring this man to her ' feet who had neglected her in girlhood, and 1 ,hcn rcfuso him, became her d .'termination; ind in this sho was prompted by her subtle ' friend. ! Flora Leslie saw the devotion of Hubert 1 with a bitter heart. The pale student first 1 introduced to our readers had become a man. 11 is figure, then sharp and angular, was now tall and graceful. The light of genius shone in his dark eye, and spread it- 1 self over his face, uow beautiful to look upon in its maulincss. His success, since his examination, had been such as answered the expectations of his friends, vrhb predicted for him a brilliant career. Flora saw that his wifo would occuppy au enviable position in society. Her quiet country home had no charms for her. Her restless spirit pined for the gay scenes of a city life.? Robert Dennyn's wife would have the posilinn for which shr> Ihikt/uI nn?l tn his marriage with Auuic Morton, and to win him to herself, became the fixed purposo of her soul. She poured into the mind of Annie suspicions of his truth ; told her of his love to her sister, and of tho scene to which she had been a witness without their knowledge, when lie confessed his love to Mary. This scene she exaggerated until Annie was maddened by tho thought that the only being he had ever loved was Mary Leslie ; and when Hubert, during the merry bridal season. told her of tho newborn love that had sprung up in his heart for tier, she laughed his love to scorn, and drove biiu frotu her with colli and haughty words, though she loved Hubert witli all the deep lovo of which her heart was capable. Robert remained several weeks at Longbrook. lie did not choose t/iat Annie s/tould see that her scornful rejection had given liiui pain, and he uuconsciously devoted himself to Flora, who saw that her triumph was approaching. Wbcu they i met, Aunie could not avoid displaying agitation ; but she struggled hard with her feelings. <4Ilo shall never know how much I have loved him," the poor girl would say. I" ?hi? * ' -?law fs~your woman s pride, that you will permit liim to see your wretchedness. This cold, proud tnau is scarcely worth all this display jf affection." Just at this time an avent occurred which prolougcd the visit of Robert. Mrs. Merlon died. Robert could not leave his friondi iu their deep aftlictiou. Poor Aunie! her ?i ?-i- en jtivi II ao IIIIU auu Uli^UVUiiaUlU. OIIC l^rcw I pale and thin.; never now, as of old, did the I light flash in her eye, and tho color f mount to her check. ( IIow Hubert's heart yearned to fold her i in his aruis aud soothe her agony. lie determined to make one last effort to win her 1 love ; but again he was repulsed. Her evil t genius whispered that now he sought her in j compassiou ; he had seen what Flora called I iier weakness, and having won from her a t confession of her lovo, would despise her 1 for it. ltobert left her presence convinced that she did not love him, that her conduct toward hiui had beeu all coquetry. His first icquantance with her, when she was scarcoly more thau a child, recurred to him. He said to himself as then, "She has no heart." In this mood he rsturucd to Longbrook. Futcriug the drawing-room, the first thing that attracted his attention was Flora. She was bending over a tablo with a small miniature open before her. Her hands were clasped, her whole features convulsed. As lie approached she started with well-feigned surprise, stammered a few words, and left : die room. Robert was amazed?who could she love? 1 This cold creature, who had never before ! lisplaycd the least sigu of feeling ! From 1 nor mauner, ho inferred, that that love, ' vhoovcr its object, must be hopeless. Ho ' idvanccd to tho table, tho picture upon ' ivhich her eyes had been riveted in such ag- ! mized hopelessness was his own. Robert 1 staggered back into the scat which Flora 1 lad iust Quitted. A cold damn mnUtiirA : settled, on his pale forehead, now paler than 1 jver?the coldness settled on his heart. Here," said he, "have 1 wasted all the love which I possessed upou one iucapable )f returning it, while this noble creature? [t shall uot be ! she shall not suffer upon aiy account ! I will drive from my thoughts ' die idol I have cherished, and replace it by ' he image of this beautiful girl. Without a moment's hesitation lie adIrcssed a note to Flora, telling her that ho liad seen her agitation, and discovered the ' \uusc of it; frankly he admitted that he ' liad not loved her?"liut," he wrote, "if you 1 will accept a heart that has not been all yours, uiy life shall be spent in endeavoring to make you happy," Was Flora Leslie happy ? Her end was well-nigh accomplished. She saw herself already mistress of a magnificent establishment, surrounded with splendor, receiving the homage due to her beauty; but happiness had fled from her bosom, imrect peace iroui her pillow, for she felt that she bad trampled and crushed to the earth, the hopes ot a breaking heart. Charlie Mortou was delighted when he learned the engagement. lie hastened to tell Annie of it "I once hoped to have seen you his bride, Annie. I think he loved you; but if you did not love him, of course, you were right not to accept him." Aunio listened calmly, and her good brother never know that he was the mcs? 1 longer that brought darkness and despair to her soul. A new light broke upon her. L'ould her friend have been treachorous'( Hut it could not be, Charlie must have been uiistukcu. She recalled Robert's fond words, his despair, when ho left her so short a time before. "It cannot be," she exclaimed ; "he loves me still! 1 will not believe it! Even though ii dc irue, no sauii uot marry this girl 1 1 will toll him all!" She wroto a hurried, passionate note to llobert, in which she coufo scd how much sho loved him ; there was no coldness now?all pride was gone? merged in the wild thought that she might yet recall him to her side. Impatiently she waited for his answer, which she felt would be life or denth to her. Who shall tell the agony of Hobcrt Dcunyn when ho received the note, just as he was setting forth for his home in li. "Onco," he wrote iu answer, "Annie Morton knew that she might havo asked any thing of me, even life itself?now I am irrevocably bound to another." Annie Morton received tho note; she took it from the servant, as she stood trembling beside that same window where she sat when lirst prcscutcd to our readers; hut how unlike tho bright, beautiful girl who then sprang forth so gayly to meet her beloved father, and the strange youth who was to exert so great an iutlucucc upon her dos tiny. Beautiful she was still, for twenty summers had not yet passed over her head; and beauty canuot leave those she has loved so early?the gift will linger till many a year of suffering has passed over tho heads of those upou whom she has bestowed tho fairy talisman. Annie read tho note?a look of despair stole over her face?her eyes gleamed wildly. She crushed the note in her hand, thou tore it iuto a thousand pietos. For a moment she stood gazing out. A carriage passed. She knew that Robert was in it? She left the 6pot where she had been standng, passed f- >wly up the broad staircase to aer room, reached tho bed, aud concious3ess left her. They found her thero souio lours after?but reason had left her. She lad sowu tho wiud in her folly, she was capiug tho whirlwind iu her misery. Robert Dennyn and Flora Lcslio wero icver married. Tho frantic words that fell rotn poor Annie Morton's lips, during tho irst moments of her hopeless insanity, disposed Flora's treachery, aud the ongagc nent was oroKcn. Robert Dennyn went on bis way, loved, lonorcd, respected by all; but a lonely old! igo was his portion. Ho had too kind and ?ood a heart to becomo a misanthrope; but ;he flowers of love in his heart were bruised ind crushed?they bloomed no more for liim. AN OLD FARMER'8 VuLTURKO F CORN. Editor Southern Cultivator.?As you repuest your patrons to give you the results of experiments they make, I beg leave to givo you mine. For the past three years ^ I have entirely changed my manner of applying manuro to coru, and liavo also' changed the implements with which I cultivate my corn crop. So far as the prep* aration and culture is concerned, I havo abaudoned the shovel, twister and bulltongue, and substituted therefor a light two-horso Avery plough. In 6tiff lunds I use two mules, in light land one, and break the land from three to five inches Jeep. I never break uiy laud but once and (vhen broken I use the rotary and smoothing harrow until the clods arc pulverised, rnd the tussocks of grass and weeds are all Lorn to pieces. The importance of thoroughly pulverizing is not appreciated by our farmers, although Jctliro Tull demonstrated its wisdom upwards of a hundred years ago. I then lay off my land with a small straight shovel?shallow. The corn is dropped in this furrow, width governed by the strength of tho land. It is then covered with the rotary harrow. If going over tho land once with tho harrow docs not All the furrow made by the straight shovel I harrow until the land is made level. When the corn is dropped, there is applied about 50 lbs (to the acre) of a commercial fertili scr, mixed with three times its' bulk of vcgetablo matter gathered in the field.?' When the corn has 3 or 4 blades I go* through it with the horse hoe or malteso cultivator, two furrows to the row, which cleans it thoroughly, and I do not go ruoro than two inches deep. I endeavor to runthrough the corn alter every rain, using the same implement. When the corn is knee or waist high, as convenience suits, I apply the bulk of my manure, which is ahandful of acid phosphate, composted with stable manure. This is the quantity I direct to be applied, but uiy laborers find it more convenient to put half a handihl, as they can then keep up with the plough more easily. I care little whether the uia-' nurc is covered or uot, but I do liko to get a rain soon after. I then plough with a sweep and continuo with the sweep until' the crop is laid by. I did not plant my corn lust year until1 I was done planting cotton, aud the soasou was much more favorable to early than luto plauting, yet all my neighbors' corn was Kvnrl kit /4 ?*ai ?/?k t ?> k . I /? ?~ *? U1V.U wjr uiuugiik, TTUliU UIIIJU rcmuiucu groen. I am now in iny eightieth year, havo been planting forty-two years, yet I never saw a field of better upland corn, and all who saw it would say it was the boat field of corn in the county. When the manure is put on top of tho ground, the first ruin that falls carries all the fertilizing matter into tho ground, where the roots are near the surface. The roots ruu mostly two, thrco or four inches, except in dry time, and if manure is put five inches below the surface, the roots seldom find it. From what I see in your and other pa* pers, I think labor here is about the samw as with you; but agriculturure in tho Sout/t can nevor riso, so long as the great Juggornaut of protection runs over its harbors and crushes them, for tho of Northern looms, furnaces, fee. CflESTER. Chester, S. C., March, 6, 1879. * "Ai.l Tiiinor Teach a Moral Lesson."?Kcctor?"Those pigs of yours aro in a fine condition, Jarvis."?Jarvis?"Yes, sur, they bo. Ab, sur, if we wos all on us on'y as tit to dio as tbcm are, we'd do [Montreal Herald. The best religion is tlr.it which will make a colored man sit down oontcut to cat com bread for supper, knowing at the same time that a neighbor has fat chickens and no dog in his yard.?[A'ac Orleans Picayune.